#wanted to end on a funny note to cover this whole au because I think it covers a whole spectrum and wanted to give it justice

[whomstress]

Which One? Chadverse su fic

Hey so I asked @universallywriting a while ago if I could do a fic on their and @suf-fering au and it was going to be much longer than this but I’ve been sitting on this so long I just needed to post it or it’d get lost forever. I know the pacing is fast but I also haven’t written in a while so I’m a little rusty. Hope you guys still like it!

“So that’s another one for me!” Star puts a tally on his board adding to a solid 7 whereas Diamond points have reached a measly 3.

“Can we please stop? I wanna actually watch some of this movie!” Connie said giggling at her husband’s pouty face. She didn’t like how this game was turning. Diamond may not show many emotions, but a game based on which one of them makes her happier in a situation and him losing by half is probably not making him feel great. Even though she knew he’d sit through it if she wanted to.

“Booooo! Just when things were really starting to get good.” Star flops back on the sofa, “I’m the winner so guess that means I’m the better boyfriend too.”

“What?” Connine and Diamond say at the same time looking at him.

“I mean c’mon he got three things you like about him more and two weren’t even about him.”

“Star, that’s not funny.” Connie said, putting down her drink.

“You're right it’s sad. He can cook and clean, more of a maid than a boyfriend.” He’s now directly staring Diamond down and Connie can feel the agitation in the room rising. It’s one thing when Star got mad but when Diamond snapped so did a good portion of things in the room.

“Star, stop! That’s not even true!” But they weren’t listening to her. They’d been caught up in their own world.

“He doesn’t have a heart, how's the tinman expected to know how to love?”

She hears a creak in the wood as he clenched a little too hard despite his stoic face, knowing the tale tale sign of Diamond starting to get upset.

This wasn’t common but also not something that happened before more than a few times over the years. Though Star was usually one to let himself become overrun with emotions to the point they overtook him there were times he could use them as weapons and tear someone apart. 

More often than not it was himself. Steven had told her about this; it was a type of self harm his consular had told him. One side bullying the other with his greatest insecurities. It was much easier to pick on his Diamond side; it didn't have the emotional maturity to deal with things the same. Since Star knew what bothered Diamond the most he could aim for like a bullet to the heart. Half the defense, double the damage.

Connie learned Star got his frustrations out but it causes more problems for both of them. Steven’s therapist was kind enough to explain to her what follows this. She thanks the stars for psychiatric professionals because despite how much she loves Steven she’s been so lost other times. Connie lets out a heavy sigh; she'll need to stop this soon or Star will spiral and Diamond will wonder off for a couple days again. 

“Alright enough is enough. I’m putting my foot down. If you can’t talk right now that’s fine but we’re NOT going after each other after the first nice night we’ve had alone since the baby was born, understand?” Her face softens and she says, “If not for you, at least for us. Please.”

Connie looks at Star and he’s looking at the crushed part of the couch with an intense stare. He knows where this will go if this doesn’t stop now. So she gets his attention and makes him look her in the eyes so she knows what she’s asking. “Star?”

He looks up and takes a look at the room. All the romantic lights and flower petals they set up for her. This was meant to be special. Gems and Dad with the baby. It was just supposed to be them being as comfortable and relaxed as they could be with him split like this. “I guess… it would be a waste to let this night go in the gutter.”

Connie knows it’s a reluctant comply but she’s still grateful. “Thank you, Star.” 

She places a hand where his Diamonds is still clenched on the couch to guide his eyes to her for the same kind of promise, “Diamond?”

He lets out a clenched breath as if that doesn’t say enough how hard this is for him since she’s pretty sure he doesn’t even breathe. He looks deeply in her eyes for a moment searching for something and she briefly wonders if he found what he was looking for before he flips his hand over to gently rub a thumb over the top of her hand, “Anything for you.”

She sits back down and puts her vacant hand in Stars and he instantly takes it to his lips with a kiss. The air is still tense but it’s much calmer now. Still thick with fresh wounds but manageable.

The movie plays on in silence but Connie’s equal attention is a comfort the men can’t ignore. It’s calming and cooling like the waves outside their window. It brushes over them in a breeze and they can feel themselves relax physically and mentally around her in a matter of minutes.

It doesn’t take long before they occupy her space in a familiar way. She thinks it’s crazy how his mood can change so quickly. One minute they're at each other's throats and the next they want to cuddle.

She knows it can be messy at times but she’ll love him no matter what. She's just glad the crisis was averted and it shows to how much he’s grown because before this was practically impossible. The fact that he’s willing to not fall into his old habits is exactly why she believes in him so much.

He believes anyone can change. It’s one of his great strengths. Everyone has a chance at redemption and despite this fight Connie can’t help how proud she feels knowing he’s allowed some of that compassion to himself. Because for the longest time he hasn’t. 

After about another half hour everyone has finally relaxed enough to mold into each other, but because of this the movie starts to drag on and her eyes start to get droopy. She’s about to fall asleep when she hears, “Hey Connie?”

She hums perfectly comfortable to fall asleep between her husbands. Star laughs and Diamond lip quirks at her cuteness of her little wrinkle of her nose, “Can we ask one more question?”

She frowns rather harshly for how sleepy she is, “That really does not sound like a good idea.”

“I know, I know, but we’ve been wanting to ask this for a while and we won’t fight. Swear it.” 

She’s about to argue more firmly but when she peaks her eyes open they both have puppy eyes and despite knowing this is pretty suspicious she decides once again to give in to them. Because like she said they did so well tonight and jeez if that wasn’t the face she fell in love with.

So she turns to Diamond, “Fine, but you ask the question, so make it count.”

This choice thus turned out to be her biggest regret of the night because on the rare occasion of the two sides working together Star gave him a firm nod to ask a question they’ve long wanted to. “Which one of us made Kaya?”

Connie’s eyes shoot open and her arms are thrown in the air with a squeaked “WHAT!?!”

Connie turns around from the couch flustered and ranting about how they were ALL her husband. She didn’t sleep with three different men so this shouldn’t even be a question. It would make no difference which all of them it was. Steven and all of them were her father. This question was ridiculous!

Star and Diamond waited until she was done ranting before Star slowly moved his mouth again, “Connie we were joking, we know were all her Dad nothing will change that. But, you actually know don’t you?”

Connie was still flustered beyond belief looking everywhere but her husbands. Her mouth moves before her words come out and she fidgets rather obviously before a final,  “...Yeah”

Diamond and Star look at each other, trying to keep their cool. “Do you want to tell us?”

She sighs, calming herself down and sits back between both of them, “Of course I do! I just don’t want to cause any fighting between you two. Especially after tonight.”

Each of them straightened a little taller knowing it was one of the other. “It’s okay Connie, you can tell us anything. We would never be upset with you. It’s completely up to you if you wanna say it.” Star hugs her gently and Diamond rests a warm hand on her leg to comfort her but there’s an edge to there words that betrays the promise they spoke.

Connie’s eyebrow raises and she lets out the most sarcastic ‘uh huh’ they’ve ever heard. So she leans back and says, “Then I guess I’ll keep it to myself since you're both okay with not knowing.”

Both men become ridged as rocks in a moment and Connie wiggles out of their grasp. “I knew this would happen and I didn’t even say it yet!”

“So you are gonna say it?” Star said hopefully.

“Star!” Connie said warningly.

“Oh c’mon we all know it’s me! I'm organic, human! He’s the gem! Your mom’s a doctor, you know how it works! I'm pretty sure he couldn’t even get you pregnant if he tried! Right, Connie?”

She looks away and finds her wine. “I need a drink.”

Connie blush started to pick up 10 fold as she feels eyes burn holes into her. Star looked at Connie downing her wine and Diamond whose eyes were wider than he’d ever seen. “Right!? Connie!?”

Diamond plopped back to the back of the couch with a large thud and awed look on his face. Both halves of Stevens finally looked at each other each end the couch one literally glowing in endearment and the other seething in disbelievement almost creating a perfect yin and yang of energy as a nervous Connie sunk further into the couch waiting for the for the spark that sets off the dynamite. 

Diamond looks to the scoreboard they had earlier that night, remembering the jealousy he felt but couldn’t express everytime Star gained another tally against him. When he looked back at Star he noticed he followed his eyes and Star’s expression said everything as if the words were written on his face. ‘Doesn’t count. DON’T. SAY IT.’

Star is right, it doesn't count. The birth or conception of their only beloved child isn’t a silly game. Though they had slightly made this a contest, by the time they fused back into Steven they’d see both sides of the story. Like Connie said they were all Steven. Star was no less a Dad to her than Steven or Diamond. They’d understand that in the end it really doesn’t matter that much who was the one to help conceive their child. The most logical thing is to let it go.

Star seems to calm down a hair, raising an eyebrow as he can see the gears in Diamonds head working. Diamonds eyes laser focus on Star and think of all the taunts and “burns” tonight. 

…

On the other hand he’ll never have an opportunity like this again. He makes a decision. He decides not to say a word about it.

Instead he places an arm around Connie and draws her close to him Star bristles like a porcupine ready to fight but what really does it is Diamond looks Star up and down before letting out the smallest unmistakable, “pfft.”

There is a thick silence for 5 seconds before the rest of the evening is filled with some sort of chaos.

“HOW D A R E YOU, YOU HOMEWRECKER!” Star explodes with the ferocity of a volcano and Connie’s face falls to her hands

[mistress-of-vos]

Ra'sTim fic idea:

// Omegaverse, no capes AU:

So that cover of Damian playing soccer has me thinking about an AU where Tim and Ra's have never met before.... 👀

Tim is the omega child of Selina, who just started dating Bruce, Talia's ex husband. But Talia and Bruce are on good terms, and have given Damian a very nice childhood. Talia has been mainly supported by her dad, alpha Ra's, who has been a widow for over 20 years now and focused on his family ever since. While they're all aware Bruce is dating Selina, there has been no proper introduction whatsoever between the three families (the al Ghuls, the Waynes and the Kyles).

Until one day, during a soccer game, Damian's team wins. This ends on a party, which Talia and Ra's attend gladly, congratulating the 9yo pup on his discipline on the sport. Damian then introduces them to Jon, his best friend in the team, and Jon introduces Talia and Ra's to the couple that went to watch him in the game: Kon and Tim.

Kon and Tim aren't actually a couple, they are just very good friends since forever, and since Jon's parents are off the city, Tim agreed to make company to Kon and encourage little Jon so that the pup wouldn't feel left out. Kon is Jon's half older brother, child of Clark's previous marriage, and Kon really didn't want to be alone at Jon's game.

So, yeah, long story short: 9yo Jon points at Tim happily and says Tim is their neighbour, and that he likes Tim very much because he makes very good cookies. Tim giggles, shaking Talia's hand first and then promising Jon some cookies for winning the game. Damian asks if he can some too, and suddenly there's a whole conversation going on between all of them except Ra's. Ra's, whose brain just stopped working at the sight of such a pretty, mesmerizing omega.

He regains composure quickly, smirking with certain flirting when Tim turns to see him, blushed and ashamed. "I'm sorry, I didn't greet you!" Tim murmurs with a nervous smile, hurrying to take Ra's' hand. The alpha takes it, but rather than shake it, he dares to take it up his lips, giving a soft kiss to Tim's knuckles.

The omega gasps, cheeks red.

"Don't worry, Timothy. It's a pleasure to meet you."

The mutual interest doesn't go unperceived by anyone, but neither Talia nor Kon approve of it, and avoid letting the two love birds alone. In the end, Ra's has to go to extreme measures, and discretely give a note to Damian with his name and phone number, sending it to Tim via the pup's hands, who is easily bought with the promise of ice cream for dinner.

Tim and Ra's starts messaging each other, and for a few days that's all they do before Ra's asks him out on a date. But funnily enough, just the day before their agreed dinner, they run into each other at a park, Ra's babysitting Damian and Tim babysitting Jon again. The two pups go and play together, giving Ra's and Tim the perfect excuse to sit together under the shadow of the trees and talk for hours.

Anyway, I might write this properly later, but for now this is it. Of course this is followed by Ra's and Tim going out for a few weeks, having fun, kissing... Until Bruce has his engagement party to Selina, and Tim discovers the Damian pup Selina mentioned that Bruce had, is the same Damian that he just met. It's awkward, and it brings some tension to all the families, to the point both Ra's and Tim consider breaking up... But their love's stronger, and they decide to stay together even if it's difficult.

In the end it's funny. They laugh at life's coincidences, and Damian is their supporter number 1 (they bought the pup with sweets and toys). For the rest of their lives, they are very happy to have attended that children's soccer game.

[firephoenix2305]

So, an idea for a Good Omens Human AU hit me and, in true me fashion, it just refuses to leave my brain.

SO

If I were to write a silly, fluffy, strangers-to-friends-to-lovers human AU where Serpent a.k.a Crowley is a rock/pop singer (I was thinking like a cover artist, because I can't go writing thousands of original songs for this guy, that would require too many of my braincells. Though there would be an explanation as to why Crowley doesn't sing original stuff, eventually) and Aziraphale is a much less-known, very shy and private, but jaw-droppingly talented opera singer, known as the "Angel of Eden" given his tendency to perform in said theater; and in which they meet because Aziraphale is dragged to one of Serpent's concerts by his best friend Anathema....

...would...would anybody object to that?...

And of course Crowley has anxiety and self-esteem and such problems behind his demonic, cool-and-aloof on-stage persona, 'cause that's my signature. (I'm not quite sure why, nervous breakdowns and the like just always end up happening in my stories. Should I be worried...?)

But anyway! I'm trailing off!

Would...um...would I...have the fandom's blessing? Or at least one bored soul who'd read it just to pass the time?

...

Have I actually already written a whole chunk of what would be the first chapter? Possibly.

Will I share a little so you can see my vision? Sure!

[For context, this takes place in the midst of Serpent's concert, which Aziraphale is attending with Anathema]

- Right! - he sighed into the microphone - I like rock as much as the next guy, but if I keep shouting like a fucking maniac I'll finish snapping my bitchy little vocal cords in half! - laughter echoed through the crowd, making Serpent smile - So, let's try not to do that and sing something slower, yeah? -

To Aziraphale's surprise, the man circled around the piano and sat down on the stool, placing his hands elegantly on the keys. He played a couple of loose notes and addressed his audience again.

- What should we go for? Hm?- he said softly into the microphone before letting out a quiet chuckle as the crowd erupted in applause - Oh, shut the fuck up! I know exactly what you want, you bastards! - he playfully snapped at them.

Then, his slim fingers began moving on the keys as if they had always been meant to be there, leaving Aziraphale near breathless. After a few notes, he began to sing, and the audience exploded.

You know the distance never made a difference to me.

I swam a lake of fire, I'd have walked across the floor of any sea.

Ignored the vastness between all that can be seen,

And all that we believe,

So I thought you were like an angel to me.

His voice felt like silk against Aziraphale's ears, his mouth agape. With all the drumming and the electric guitars, he hadn't really had the chance to listen to Serpent's voice. And now that he could, he was completely entranced. His eyes were glued to the red-haired man, whose eyes were, in turn, closed in concentration beneath the yellow lenses of his glasses.

Funny how true colours shine in darkness and in secrecy.

If there were scarlet flags, they washed out in the mind of me.

Where a blindin' light shone on you every night.

And either side of my sleep,

Where you were held frozen like an angel to me.

It ain't the being alone. Sha-la-la

It ain't the empty home, baby. Sha-la-la.

You know I'm good on my own.Sha-la-la

Sha-la-la, baby, you know, it's more the being unknown.

So much of the livin', love,

is the being unknown.

So, eh, yeah...thoughts?

[kylelover]

headcanons on the joint YouTube channel of the Reader and Eric, Wendy and Kyle? (for each separately please)

Thanks in advance!!<3

hi anon! i love this omfg you guys are gonna make me wanna do that streamer au even faster... heh anyways thanks to u for requesting! I also made it so it was for Kenny and Stan as well, hope you don't mind.

Sharing a YT channel with Team Stan + Wendy

Stan

you and stans youtube channel would be of gameplays that you play together!

its kind of funny because sometimes both of you post videos playing alone, so its just half animal crossing, half cs:go lol

it would definitely have a pfp of a selfie you took together

sometimes stan posts guitar covers of his favourite songs and small clips of his life he finds cool, just like kyle!

somehow the channel got over 200k+ subscribers and you dont even know how

so... yeah.

lorde attacks once again - 80k views.

"3... 2... 1... ok, go."

stan started touching a similar tune on his guitar, as you focused the camera on the instrument.

"how are you so good at this?" you smiled

suddenly you could hear someone walking near the entrance of stans bedroom.

"oh shit, i think its my dad."

you immediately covered the camera with your hand.

blackness could only be seen from the videos perspective.

a door creak could be heard from the distance.

"stan, check this new song im writing!" his voice sounded raspy, he was intoxicated, one bottle on his left hand and a microphone on the other.

randy took a sip of his beer quickly.

"god damn it dad! when are you gonna stop that whole lorde thing!"

you moved your hand from the camera and focused it on randy.

he was wearing a red gala dress and a brown-ish wig.

"makes me feel so good~ i could dance forever! because i am lord-" randy's sentence got cut off by stan grabbing his shoulders and moving him off his room.

"ok dad, stop, youre embarrasing me." could be lowly heard as he shut the door off and the video finished.

Kyle

i always felt like kyle would have a youtube channel where he posts skits and short videos of his life!

which means together you would post vlogs and short clips you guys recorded with your friends.

apart from those, since kyle is very interested on guitar hero i feel like he would also post his best scores on the game and little game plays of his.

mainly the channel is filled with small moments from both of your lifes, since you and kyle only wanted to keep your memories on a small archive channel:)

vid for mom lols - 5 views, private.

as you started recording the screen turned from a black screen to suddenly seeing kyle's own face.

"wait, are you recording?" kyle questioned.

you nodded in agreement.

both of you had gone to a nearby cafe area to have some lunch together to study for some really hard math exams.

"kyle, I'm gonna send this to my mom. act like you weren't smoking a fat joint earlier," you joked as you zoomed the camera closer to his face

kyle's expressions went from an ear to ear smile to a poker face.

"WHAT? I WOULD NEVER DO THAT!" kyle spoke loudly as he put his hand in front of the camera so his face couldn't be seen.

"dont send that to your mom, y/n! I'm gonna have a bad impression on her!"

you turned the camera to focus your face. "don't worry mom, he is a very studious gentleman," you said whilst moving once again the camera and recording kyle's long study-notes.

you laughed softly while turning off the camera. you'll save that video for later...

Cartman

cartman obviously would have a reacting channel.

however since he shares it with you he decided to also make challenge content.

such as the ice bucket challenge, eating the most spicy pepper, etc.

together you would record videos of pranks and some youtube shorts.

cartman would definitely make one of those videos where he eats the most nasty spicy mix ever, cry, and then say "no reaction."

WE DID THE ICE BUCKET CHALLENGE ⛸️🧊 (end is incredibly funny) - 3892 views.

"h-hey guys hows it going, this is cartmanbrah on another challenge!"

you moved the camera to butters standing on the freezing snow as cartman appeared slowly on frame pointing at him.

"today we are doing the ice-bucket challenge! so dont forget to like and su-su-subscribe!"

the camera got closer to cartmans face as he said the last line.

suddenly the video was cut and only butters could be seen.

he was only wearing boxers...

"come on butters just say it!" cartman shouted.

"i'm butters a-and i got dared by scott67 to do the ice bucket challenge" his voice and body shaked, he was clearly cold.

you grabbed the bucket filled with cold water and poured it on him.

the video was slow motion as the water hit butters head slowly.

"WO-AH DUDE! that was awesome!" cartman laughed.

"Ok guys! smash the like button, by-bye!"

Kenny

kenny didnt have a phone so of course he also didn't own a camera.

so when you bought a new camera you had such a great idea.

make a youtube channel with kenny!

your channel mainly consisted on dumb videos of you two.

maybe it was kenny climbing a tree, or crossing the river jumping on rocks.

sometimes it was you guys just running away from 5 mad dogs following you.

random videos in general.

everytime you watched them together you always smiled.

big man ken - 2 views, private.

the camera moved closer to kenny, showing his side profile where only his bright orange parka and dirty blonde hair could be seen.

his face turned to the direction of the camera.

he laughed softly, his crooked smile and small teeth gap could be seen.

"guys check this out, its the immortal snail." kenny grabbed the camera gently and focused it on a random slug.

"thats not even a snail, kenny!" your laugh could be heard off-camera.

"its the same thing."

he changed the camera to selfie mode and made an exagerated shocked face while he looked at the small animal.

"alright kenny, stop acting like a reac-"

suddenly, a tree fell on top of him, killing him instantly.

"WHAT THE FUCK?"

Wendy

wendy and you would have a story-time vlog channel.

you would basically do pijama parties, yoga, etc together and record

it was fun since you added some effects while recording story-times which made them more engaging to the public

sometimes bebe joined and you three made outfit videos!

your channel was pretty popular among south park.

having over 12k subscribers!

pillow fight! - 50 views, private.

"alright guys! heres a tutorial on how to see if your boyfriends cheating on you!" bebes face could be seen on the camera.

"lord, bebe! I thought we would record our hairstyles!" wendy snatched the camera away from her.

"bebe, don't worry I got your back" you whispered to her whilst grabbing a pillow slowly.

BAM.

you had hit wendy on the head with a pillow.

"i can't believe it!"

"pillow fight!" heidi's voice could be heard behind the camera.

the camera was moved by bebe to a corner in the room and you all started hitting each other.

[good-beanswrites]

LCSYS ask again(undercover asker here hiiiiiaufhghghgn)thank you for responding!!!! ilovfe seeing your ideas theyre such good fuel in between trials❤️❤️

i was wondering how th prisoners would react to es’ usage of violence, like some of the younger prisoners complaining about it while the older are concerned because Hello Where did that stem from???? you cant tell me es’ “phew, i feel so much better” after hitting shidou didn’t send his mind racing a million miles per minute

ALSO curious about YONAH………… similar to how red’s violence towards es was scripted, was kotoko’s monologue about es being imperfect Also scripted, or was it on her own? yonah is probably my favourite voice drama of all time and I’m curious about how it would be interpreted in this au 🫶

Ah hello again! Thank you so much for reaching out -- every time I think I've covered everything you guys hit me with a new insane detail that makes my brain go brrrrr >:3

Because OMG I spent so much time thinking of the faked violence, I don't know why I never put as much attention on the flipside! I love the idea of Jackalope assuring them, "there will be no physical punishments. We'll talk about restraints but that's all fake. We'll make up injuries between trials but that's all fake. You don't have to worry about any real pain." And then this 15yo strolls up, interrogation one, ready to smack someone😅😅😅

Seriously though, I think it would come as a pretty big surprise to the group. They knew it was a possibility, but didn't think Es was that likely to attack, since they've made a few comments about being against violent punishments. Haruka comes back to mention the slap, and Yuno follows their instructions and says she also suffered violence, and the group is Shocked. I think it would just kill Fuuta that he wasn't allowed to hit back and avenge the others. He probably has the most complaints about the situation (and is insanely relieved that he get by in his own interrogation.) In a feeble attempt to get back at Es and make them feel bad, he encourages Muu to cry and make a big show about being afraid of them. Muu is frightened enough that it doesn't take much persuasion... I think Kotoko and unfortunately Amane wouldn't mind the threat, they both have lives in which authority showing power isn't out of place (and maybe Haruka?). Mahiru, too, thinks it's just the way a prison guard can run their prison if they want, though she's determined her charm will keep things running pleasantly.

Kazui reaches out asap* to question the legality of the experiment, since they're allowing children to get hit, even if by other children. There's a tangle of signatures and consent from everyone involved so it's okay, but the whole thing still rubs him the wrong way. He knew the experiment was a bit shady, but he(Though, this does make his first vd kind of funny -- instead of actually talking through his theories on the prison, now it feels like he's just egging Es on to see if they'll actually hit him...)

And I really like that idea that Shidou's dad instincts kick in (or maybe it's doctor instincts)! He'd understand if it was a child trying to play the role of an intimidating adult, but the way Es is doing things, the things they're saying, it all points to something deeper going on in Es' head. I can see him sitting down with the others and Jackalope to discuss. Of course Milgram gives him very little to work with, but this still kickstarts everyone's efforts to make sure Es is also taken care of post-Milgram.

*I just realized I'm still a bit fuzzy on communication during the trials. Jackalope can definitely get information to the prisoners (most commonly the 'voices' they're supposed to be hearing based on Es' notes, but also in case of emergency changes or things). I was picturing the prisoners unable to communicate outward until the trial ends, as it builds up the feeling of isolation and imprisonment. The issue is, I feel like Jackalope would want to keep that line open in case the prisoners had questions/issues with the experiment that affected their acting. So idk if the prisoners voice these concerns about Es mid-trial or they're forced to wait. I'll get back to you on that, hm

And Yonah!!

I wasn't avoiding spoilers, I actively looked for snippets here and there, but it was this ask that finally motivated me to sit down and watch it through -- and I'm SO GLAD I DID 👀 It's really well-written and wonderfully acted!! I'm floored with the whole thing omg

I really like the idea that the Milgram team instructed Kotoko to mention Es' imperfection to rattle them a bit, but left the specifics to her. Jackalope thought she'd just make some quick comment, and does a double take when he listens in on the interrogation and realizes she has a lot to say on Es and the way Milgram is run.

Jacklope told her to be harsh with Es, and she thought that was no problem at all. She felt those opinions strongly and wasn't going to go easy on the criticism just because they were a kid. She goes into the interrogation ready to stay completely put-together... and then surprises everyone and herself when Es' distress moves her to pull them into a tight hug and tell them everything's going to be alright ;---;

[borrowedtimeandspace]

The Question

AU: A Patient, and Time (Donna AU); set some time after A Whole Lot of Precious Time

Note: Hope y'all enjoyed the comfort...

~~~

“No, no, it's not that I don't understand the threat, the Doctor insisted. “I get it; temporal displacement weapon, you point it at people so they do what you want or else they're, as it says on the tin, displaced in time. What boggles my mind is why you've added a wheel to it. Aren't fidget spinners a bit 'retro' for the 51st century?”

The terrible smirk on the face of the crisply suited man before the Doctor didn't falter even a hair. He continued to hold the deceptively dangerous device so casually in one hand, letting his thumb flick its shiny new wheel up and down at odd intervals. Not a thought was put into the action.

“Time… It's a funny thing, isn't it, Doctor? Suppose you'd know, the great and powerful Time Lord that you are. I should think you'd be more aware than anyone that in this day and age, temporal displacement is becoming a bit of an empty threat. What with vortex manipulators being a dime a dozen, it sort of takes the severity out of it. Just trace back the setting, or strong-arm the one with the weapon, and you'll find them eventually.”

It was all the Doctor could do to not roll his eyes at the man's monologuing. He'd prompted it, after all, and it was what he wanted. A distraction.

Alaric Edwin didn't have nearly half the planet under his thumb simply by having an odd, tricked-out relic in hand, after all. He'd come into political and social power by manipulating the populace with his network of tech worming into the vast majority of people's heads. A network powered by the master control at the far end of the room in which he and the Doctor now stood.

All eyes were on the two men, any hired (though to be frank, they were also enslaved) guns trained on the Doctor and awaiting the signal of their commander. Edwin, confident as ever, wasn't worried. 

No one but the Doctor seemed at all aware of the tiny woman sneaking from shadow to shadow along the edges of the room.

Zepheera had jumped at the opportunity. For how tight the security was in this base of operations, it all but ignored smaller life forms. Even carrying the tiny but incredibly powerful EMP device the Doctor had given her, the four and a half inch tall borrower was able to avoid tripping any alarms. She could get in close to the master control and shut it all down long enough for the Doctor to make sure it could never come online again.

It was the Doctor's job to make sure she got there.

Once in a while, he could catch the slightest glimpse of movement in the corner of his eye, but he dared not look for fear of blowing her cover. The Doctor only noticed because he had grown so used to a borrower being around, and as far as he could tell, Mr. Edwin was so locked in his own world that he had no concept of anything or anyone else. And the Doctor was determined to make sure it stayed that way.

It was just a shame that getting him to brag about his toys was apparently the way to do it.

“But, with this,” Edwin continued, lifting the temporal displacement weapon so that the newly added wheel was prominent, “it's all random. Even I don't know when exactly I'm sending someone once I fire it off. And the very next second, well…” He gave the wheel another pointed spin. “Then it's gone. No way to trace anything back, no way to know. Nice and clean, you see? Even torture won't get anyone anywhere since I literally do not know, myself, where I'm sending people. I've even lost track of which direction takes someone forwards in time or backwards. Really turns what was once a weapon of waning relevance into something…truly devastating, if I do say so.”

The Doctor’s eyebrow quirked. “And that just works for you?” he asked, deadpan and unimpressed. In his peripheral vision, he could see the faintest movement against the side of the master control. Good job, Zepheera, he thought, just a little longer… “Not nearly enough to point guns at people, is it? Is that what you do all day, come up with endlessly creative ways to threaten people who are already in your thrall?”

“You know, I grow tired of all your questions, Doctor,” Edwin sighed. “They're not nearly as entertaining as they were. I should think the time has come for me to begin asking the questions. For instance: How is it that you think you're going to put a stop to my operations here? You've come all this way, I can only assume that is your goal.”

Behind Edwin, Zepheera's heart was in her throat. This was hardly the first time she'd taken on a task that separated her from the Doctor, especially since Donna’s loss. Her drastically smaller size lent her to very different strengths than her Time Lord friend. He'd been nothing but encouraging, if a tad protective when she first started actively taking such initiative.

The adrenaline coursed through her veins, powering her climb. If she pulled this off, millions of people would be set free from imprisonment in their own mind. She knew firsthand what a terrible fate that was, and helping put a stop to it was what kept her moving forward.

It was slow going up her climbing rope, but Zepheera finally pulled herself up to the titanic machine's console. Leaving the grappling hook and line behind, she began sprinting toward the center. Along the way, her fingers fumbled to remove the straps keeping the electromagnetic pulse device attached to her back. She abandoned the fiddly latch and simply yanked the device over her head.

The Doctor clocked this movement, and tossed his hands in the air. “Well, I'm only a concerned passer-by. Just reckoned I'd scope things out as I stumbled in, plans aren't really my forte–”

“Couldn't agree with you more,” Edwin cut in, whipping his head around in time to lock eyes with Zepheera, her arms full with the little device. 

Her steps faltered for a split second at the sight of being caught, but she quickly redoubled her efforts. Frantically, Zepheera slammed her hand down on the button that would begin the thirty second timer on the pulse. 

Edwin's thumb flicked the wheel.

Zepheera tossed the device as far as she could throw it and made a mad dash for her hook.

Edwin's arm whipped around and he squeezed the trigger on his weapon.

“Zepheera!”

It all happened far too quickly for the Doctor to stop it. A bright flash of blue light leapt from Edwin's hand and collided with Zepheera. She didn't have time to scream before the beam consumed her whole. 

In less than the blink of an eye, Zepheera had vanished completely.

Edwin's thumb once again flicked the wheel on his device with a pointed whirrrrrrr. The only sound the Doctor was consciously aware of anymore.

That smug smirk was in full force as Edwin turned back to the Doctor. “Would you like me to repeat the question?”

The Doctor didn't respond at first. He stood frozen, staring at the last spot he'd seen his friend before she was tossed into the temporal wind. And at first, Edwin took pride in shaking up the Time Lord so visibly, and was willing to wait for it all to sink in.

Then that gaze slid slowly to lock with Edwin’s, and suddenly he was the one frozen in place.

Anger wasn't all that could be found in those eyes, and Edwin could almost see for himself what they saw when they looked at him. It wasn't just the dismantling of his plans. It was the complete and total destruction of everything Alaric Edwin was and ever would be, along with anything and anyone bearing his name. Oblivion in the truest sense of the word.

The wrath of the Time Lord, whose lip curled with utmost disdain as he growled; a low tone that went well beyond seething.

“Oh, big mistake.”

[lale-txt]

🌙 modern AU: OP kids teaching their dads how to use the computer

a/n: avoiding all the things i'm supposed to write and writing silly little headcanons like these instead because i needed something for the soul today and because my heart is soft and weak for any of these dads and their sons ugh („ಡωಡ„)

Law & Rosinante

deep breaths, Law is reminding himself as he watches Rosinante trip over the cable of the charger and almost take down the whole PC setup with him as he falls to the ground

this was the man he owed his life to, the man who burned down several hospitals for him, the man who never gave up even in the darkest hours… giving him a computer crash course was the least Law could do to show his gratitude 

with a cigarette dangling from his lips Rosinante sits up straight, eager to learn all about the world wide web 

he nods along eagerly as Law starts rambling about the importance of secure passwords and how to detect spam mails, that he should never ever click on one of those and never give out any private data about himself

as if Rosinante hadn’t lived an undercover life for so many years and didn’t know a thing or two about keeping data safe

Law is unfazed as he puts out a small fire caused by a smoldering cigarette someone dropped on the tittie mousepad (a gift from Rosinante’s brother who had obnoxious taste but at least it was good for the wrists)

he also continues his PowerPoint presentation when Rosinante slips from his chair when he wants to change his position and Law takes a mental note to never get him a gymnastic ball because that won’t help his dad with good posture, it will probably just break his neck

“any questions?”, Law asks after a 5 hour lecture and raises an eyebrow when Rosinate lifts his hand. now what could it be, he went into deep detail about everything, there’s not a single topic he hadn’t covered…

“so. how do i turn this thing on?”

Ace & Roger

his therapist had suggested some father-son-bonding time but Ace wasn’t entirely sure if that’s exactly what they had in mind

“you have to doubleclick to open it”, Ace says through gritted teeth as he watches his father trying to open the internet browser, the mouse disappearing entirely under his big hand

Roger laughs and pats his son on the back, just happy to spend some time with him

“but i’m clicking already, i think that thing is broken. maybe i’m just too old for this thing.” – “no, you have to click faster. not like that. just… fast. oh my god, dad, are you kidding me?!”

Ace is close to gnawing at the desk as he watches Roger click anywhere just not the icon he is supposed to click

how did this man sail the whole world back and forth and can’t do a simple thing as opening an app and why does he want to learn how to use a computer anyway at his age

Ace is close to getting up and running out when Roger turns to him and smiles at him softly, almost apologetically

“you know… this is nice. i love spending time with you. now show your old man one more time how to write an email so we can stay in touch when you’re traveling.”

Ace feels a lump in his throat and takes a deep breath, putting on a stoic face as he lays his hand on top of his father’s and shows him how to click correctly

there’s many things left unsaid between them but not all of them were bad. after all, Ace would sit and smile when Roger replies to his email from vacation with an over exaggerated chain of smileys :-) :-D :-) :-D :-) :-D 8-D  

Yamato & Kaido

listen, Kaido is trying, he really is

it‘s not his fault that this keyboard is TINY and his fingers are MASSIVE

lots of yelling and shouting and doors being slammed as Yamato’s patience is running thin 

he comes back to Kaido crying in front of his tiny laptop and in the end will help his dad send out the “funny eCard” to his friends and subordinates

Yamato will show him how to use speech to text because that might be helpful when Kaido can’t type on the small keyboard, right?

little does he know that he opened the box of pandora with that

cryptic text messages at 2am, something about “running out of sake press send why doesn’t it send Yamato can you hear me this is not working send send send hello oh fucking hell hello? hello? i need more sake where is it where is it ahh it’s empty hello”

that’s Yamato’s breaking point; when he decides to get rid of the computer the following day and just gift Kaido a nice calligraphy set or something instead

because frankly, he never wants to wake up to a dozen emails from his father again written through entire phases of his drunk stages

emails he didn’t send to Yamato only, but to his whole subordinates to which Ulti replied to all with a simple “is Kaido stupid?” 

also because he learned that people online call his dad “babygirl” and he’s not sure how to explain that to him…

[minecraftbookshelf]

The think about asking about the things you want to talk, is that they’re the things I want to know about. Same brainworms. Nerd to nerd communication. Speaking of, my last fixation was fading right as I started thinking about this AU, so guess what took its place in prime brain real estate. I have so many thoughts about your AU, it brings me great joy.

But first, there’s only one “how to become emperor for dummies” left, considering you’ve already covered xornoth and shrub pretty neatly in other posts.

So. How does one become the lost emperor? And also why did Joey decide to rejoin the rest of the world? (It’s funny that this is last one we learn about actually, considering the lost empire’s whole situation)

It took me so long to answer this mostly because I wanted to keep this ask in my inbox to make dolphin noises over for a bit longer XD

The nerd to nerd communication be strong.

Hopefully this is a satisfying hyperfixation for you while it lasts! Especially with the non-zero chance of fic before the end of the month!

(Ironically, my plans for Shrub have changed quite a bit since the original concepts for this au...but that would be telling :) )

As for Joey and The Lost Empire...

standard copy+paste

Also a general note relevant to the succession criteria of the majority of the empires. Remember this whole thing, where Pix kind of accidentally changed the formal definition of war in the empires? That had a lot of implications for how royalty functioned in the Empires. While they still absolutely have internal duties and responsibilities and privileges, ultimately their most important job is that they stand ready to defend their empire and its people at all times. Part of this is that they also function as international ambassadors in a way, while most empires also have official ambassadors, the relationships and interactions between the emperors themselves are a very important (sometimes volatile) facet of international relations. A country cannot be recognized internationally as an autonomous nation without an official Emperor/Head of State.

The Lost Empire has been isolated, within magically established borders, since The Plot Things I keep referencing vaguely.

So they don't operate with the "modern" rules. They are a bloodline monarchy, but they have two bloodlines.

Most of the population of the Lost Empire are hybrids, and both of the royal families are hybrid. One avian and one feline. They alternate who is active ruler, with an avian taking the throne after a feline and vice versa.

(assassination between the families is prevented by the simple method of "if the ruler gets assassinated then all members of both families are executed and two new families will be chosen to take their place." It's brutal but fairly effective.)

So yes, Joey was raised in the fire temple with the intent of inheriting the throne. And then he did. And a couple of years later he took down the border and made the first ventures into the outside world (and raided Fwip's kitchen in the process.)

His reasons were mostly just that he wanted to and he had the means. There's more to it, but he is going to get a fic so I'll leave some things for that. XD

-

AU Masterpost

[mythicaldemigoddess-of-deltarune]

Hazbin Hotel Au: Alastor Altruist The Ex-Exorcist (2024)

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[Note: if possible, and if needed...please click on the drawing to make it a bit bigger....also I do plan to use this drawing as a Cover for a future chapter over at Quotev. so it will be for here and there.]

Credit for Hazbin Hotel goes to Vivienne “Vivziepop” Medrano

-----------

yeah if it weren't for the fact that Alastor always seems to get a "X" on his forehead most of the time when he uses his powers and the whole what Carmilla Carmine says about Vaggie, I wouldn't have this weird idea and Fan-Headcanon theory about Alastor.

so yeah, even if the chances of Alastor being a former Exterminator/Ex-Exorcist Angel is possibly not very likely, but what if he did become one after he had died in the human world, but he couldn't truly be himself when he got into Heaven and was made to be part of Adam's Exterminators, which is possibly made up of all Women.

there is a big reason why the horns that is a part of Alastor's Exterminator outfit, has Horns that are similar to a Female Imp while the other is Similar to a Male Imp, that is why both of them have the words "Nope" for the Female Horns and "Yes" for the Male Horns.

even if Alastor might not figure out he is Ace, which just makes him adorkable that way with him being the only one who doesn't know he is Ace.

it could be that Rosie isn't the only one who possibly knows and it can turn out that Husk, Mimzy and Niffty who know this as well.

the idea I want to go with this drawing, is for a type of Crossover AU where Alastor is Chara's parent, and it is thanks to a fan fic I read before where he is Chara's Father that I love the idea so much.

and if Alastor had originally the wrong type of body that didn't match his gender identity of being Male, it could be possible he was still going through the process of transitioning but had yet to get the whole top surgery before his death, and would mostly dress up in the outfits that match his true self but most of the time had dressed in the outfits that was expected of him.

the idea I want to go with for well this version of Alastor, is that he had went through the whole taking some of his eggs and having them cryogenic frozen, which still ends up frozen even after his death, so Chara would end up being born some decades later.

so Alastor wouldn't know he had became a Father while he was in the Afterlife, even if it took some decades later for the eggs he had cryogenic frozen to be used by a couple that wanted a child.

Chara's Human Parents, could of been both not able to have a child, because the Human Dad was sterile, so they would also have to get another genetic material for the other part of having Chara be made.

I'm kind of tempted to have Vox be the Other Biological Dad. XD

like picture how Valentino would react, it would be kind of funny.

I also want to go with the idea that Chara's Mom, who the egg was implanted in, did what some of those women from Vandread did, which I think maybe in a few hours or so, I will go and watch some of the episodes...

like Chara's Human Mom could of splice some of her DNA into the egg, and then have it be placed into her Womb, which would mean that Chara is the Biological Child of Alastor and the unknown Human Mother.

and yes, I love Vandread, and the idea of Chara having a slightly similar creation is interesting, but Alastor would still be the Dad.

not everyone has to like this idea, and how Alastor's Dead-Name is Alastriona. but yeah, it is thanks to some episodes of Hazbin Hotel that makes me think that before Alastor ended up in Hell, he didn't end up going to Hell and instead ended up in Heaven and was made to work for Adam until he ended up where he is now.

but it might of been thanks to his deal with someone where he is also on a chain, that he was able to leave and become who he truly is, and yeah in a Crossover AU idea I have, this version of Alastor was originally born in a female body, but that wasn't who he was.

the idea is that before he had figured out he was a man, is that he still kept his hair long, well some guys do still grow their hair long but some can choose to have it short. just like how some gals can either have long or short hair.

the reason why Alastor's Deer Ears don't show on the other versions of him being in his Exorcist form, is because it can have to do that he was able to hide his Deer Ears, and he could possibly still do that but chooses to not do so anymore.

and if Alastor was formerly "one of Adam's girls" but technically not being a girl, Alastor may have finished most of his transition and of course it could be possible Adam wouldn't recognize him.

this version of Alastor could use a Binder to well bind his chest, that he never got rid of in the top surgery he was suppose to have before he died.

and one of the ways I can think how he could, without some form of regeneration happening afterwards, is if he possibly used Angel Weapon that has been reformed into a Medical Tool. and well it could be for those who choose to go through the surgeries that they weren't able to get around to when they were still living in the human world.

the chances of Alastor actually being a Transman in the canon, it possibly not likely to be confirmed or canon.

even if it is true that only some percent of deer in real life, do have both the male and females have antlers while other type of deer it is only the males who have them.

so yeah, in some species of deer, it isn't just the bucks that get the antlers on their head.

so yeah, this drawing was inspired by not only Alastor having that "X" appear on his head at times, but also what Carmilla says about Vaggie.

but there could be other reasons why that "X" is there, and the original reason for the "X" on Sinners might not be canon anymore, but that doesn't mean the "X" wont still have some meaning, like having to do with Angels who end up living in Pentagram City.

anyway it's okay if the idea of Alastor also being a former Exorcist isn't true or even canon, it still be a good idea in Fanon Timelines.

also even though the drawing itself isn't really mature, I'm still having the tags "not for kids" and "mature audiences only" because of what I wrote on this post, and well hopefully some will respect the whole "do not reblog without permission" tag...

anyway hope some like this drawing as well as the idea about the name Alastriona being Alastor's Dead-Name.

[hushimstressed]

I have. SO many thoughts about your Spider-Man au. First of all, I don’t know how much or how long you’ve watched slimecicle, but as I long time frequent viewer I can tell you he is DEEPLY unhinged. He makes a fantastic villain whenever he sets his mind to it. Which brings me to my point - you’ve mentioned slime living in fear of his lack of control over venom. I think you could break slimecicle into two pieces - Charlie, his civilian identity, and Slime, his symbiote. Together they make slimecicle. Charlie brings the puns, the humor, and the lightheartedness to their hive mind. Slime brings the violence, the territorialness, the disregard for human life. Combined it means that slimecicle cracks cannibal jokes before he eats people and stalks those he cares about. I think he would be all in on the cannibalism. He’s disturbing not by being scary but by being silly and normal even as he eats people. Becomes obsessed with Spider-Man. Some guy hurts the spider real bad and slimecicle tortures and eats them. I just think he should be demented and unhinged! He offers to eat Juanaflipa’s bullies. When him and Mariana find out each other’s identities and split ways he stalks him to make sure he’s safe. Maybe he even killed someone before the symbiote. He’s a fucked up silly little guy. Take this with a grain of salt if you want these are just my thoughts! I just think he should hive mind and be creepier. And that he’d be into the murder thing.

🐀

Answer got too long so I have to hide it under the cut again whoooooooo also there’s a poll at the end

Charlie definitely gets unhinged but only really after Juanaflippa dies because that’s when he stops holding back Venom/Slime from going on a rampage- as time goes on and his issues remain unaddressed the line between Charlie the human being and Slime the symbiote becomes blurred. Before he’d make more of an effort to “mask” anything out of the ordinary (with varying success) but post-Flippa’s death he rolls with the horror more instead of covering it up, e.g. “That was just a very large dog, don’t worry about it hahaha” vs “yes, I just ate a man- I skipped breakfast, we all do it.”

Charlie indulging in more “monsterous” habits and the symbiote Slime forming genuine human connections with those around it (Mariana & Juanaflippa)! So when Mariana and him “split” after her death, he justifies following him around because he want to keep him out of similar danger, and it’s fine because Venom/Slime is helping. Before he would catch sight of Spider-Man and adore him as a symbolic figure to what Charlie could never amount to, now he follows Mariana out of desperation for losing all he used to have (but simultaneously cannot confront Mariana in person because then he’d have to face a whole other can of issues relating to Juanaflippa’s death).

Charlie definitely considered eating Juanaflippa’s school bullies at one point but never brought it up to her because he was under the impression she didn’t know he was possessed by a man-eating symbiote lmaooo

Also you make a good point of making Charlie creepier! I considered indulging into some body horror when I first started this au but figured that would scare people off so I kinda forgot about it 💀 like “oops I grew a second mouth” and then vomits a skeleton hahaha and how an alien species attaching itself to his body could make him feel like his body isn’t his own anymore but the host of a being out of his control and comfort :)

On a side note he would 100% crack a pun before killing a man (I’m just not good at puns so imagine a really funny one rn) and nom

Accept this doodle as thanks for the brain rot I will continue to think of these dumb idiots whom I love

[apocalypticavolition]

Let's (re)Read The Dragon Reborn! Chapter 22: The Price of the Ring

Everyone always wonders why heroes in fantasy stories are so reluctant to get the cool magical artifacts and stuff. This chapter justifies why you should be a little cautious around free doodads, especially when they're enchanted! Anything else would be spoilers though, and if you don't want spoilers for the whole Wheel of Time series, you shouldn't keep reading.

This chapter has the Flame of Tar Valon icon because we're seeing the Accepted ritual again and because Egwene is going to be the Flame of Tar Valon for a hot minute or two. Also the Amyrlin's voice is heard at the end. Lots of meaning, this chapter icon.

But Sheriam seemed to have dismissed the papers from her mind as soon as she asked.

Since the first word out of Egwene's mouth was "Verin," Sheriam probably dismissed them for that reason. She either knows Verin's allegiance or buys the cover that she's a distracted old wmoan.

“I listened to the lectures,” Egwene protested, “and I remember them, but . . . can’t I have a night’s sleep first?”

It's funny to consider that when Egwene gets raised next time, she'll spend a night traveling through the world of dreams.

An Aes Sedai sat cross-legged on the bare rock before each of the spots where arches joined ring, all three wearing their shawls. Alanna was the sister of the Green Ajah, but she did not know the Yellow sister, or the White.

Sadly, we don't know them either. I wouldn't at all be surprised though if they were significant players though, since Sheriam, Elaida, and Alanna all are too.

“She should not be given this chance.” There was iron in Elaida’s voice, and her face was scarcely softer. “I do not care what her potential is. She should be put out of the Tower. Or failing that, set to scrubbing floors for the next ten years.”

Elaida's just bitter that Moiraine has outmatched her in recent all-star recruitment. Cute that their animosity starts so early.

She sounded as if she had said this many times. There was a light of sympathy in her eyes, but her face was almost as stern as Elaida’s. The sympathy frightened Egwene more than the sternness.

If a member of the BA is feeling sorry for you, you know your life is about to suck hardcore.

“There is some sort of—resonance.” She never took her eyes from the arches. “An echo, almost. I do not know from where.”

Two T'A'R access points conflicting with each other?

“Then let her face what she fears.” Even in its formality, there was a note of satisfaction in Elaida’s voice.

Already Elaida thinks Egwene can't survive the punishments coming her way. And already she's wrong. A remarkably pig-headed woman.

Of course Rand was her husband—her handsome, loving husband—and Joiya was her daughter—the most beautiful, sweetest little girl in the Two Rivers. Tam, Rand’s father, was out with the sheep, supposedly so Rand could work on the barn but really so he could have more time to play with Joiya. This afternoon Egwene’s mother and father would come out from the village. And probably Nynaeve, to see if motherhood was interfering with Egwene’s studies to replace Nynaeve as Wisdom one day.

Egwene's first archway takes her to the closest equivalent of a fluffy high school/coffee shop AU that the setting can allow. A true hell for Egwene, who needs shit to do.

Egwene knew—she thought she knew—Whatever it was, was gone.

Egwene's Seanchan trauma is so strong that she can almost recall it across timelines. I think the only reason she doesn't spend any of the three arches in the damane collar is because she's already faced that fear as thoroughly as possible.

When Rand’s head hurt, strange things happened soon after. Lightning out of a clear sky, smashing to bits that huge oak stump he had been working two days to root out where he and Tam were clearing new field. Storms that Nynaeve did not hear coming when she listened to the wind. Wildfires in the forest. And the deeper his pain grew, the worse what followed.

Huh. After my migraines we get sudden thunderstorms and those cause forest fires. Am I the Dragon Preborn? I fucking hope not, though getting channeling as a reward for suffering through the headaches would be fucking fantastic.

But three times now, Egwene had cured someone Nynaeve had given up for dead. Three times she had sat to hold a hand through the last hour, and seen the person get up from a deathbed. Nynaeve had questioned her closely on what she had done, what herbs she had used, in what blending. Thus far, she had not found the courage to admit that she had done nothing.

It's interesting to note that in a world where the EF5 never leaves town, Egwene eventually becomes more capable at Healing than Nynaeve. It might just be that their blocks are different, I suppose, or that Wilders are prone to implausible feats in the initial period that they can't necessarily replicate after the fact, though Rand's channeling outbursts are things he'd do quite easily later.

She halted, looked back at Joiya gurgling in her cradle, at Rand still pressing hand to his head and looking at her as if wondering where she was going. “No,” she said. “No, this is what I want. This is what I want! Why can’t I have this, too?”

Fucking Wheel, making women choose between families and careers no matter what position it's in. How depressing.

She stiffened her back and kept walking, but she could not keep the tears from rolling down her cheeks. Rand’s groans built to a scream, drowning Joiya’s laughter. From the corner of her eye, Egwene saw Tam coming, running as hard as he could.

Really the fact that Joiya is laughing hysterically while her dad is having a horrible meltdown is good evidence that these possible timelines aren't entirely real but are specifically designed as a trap.

“Every woman I have ever watched come out of there has asked that question. The answer is, no one knows. It has been speculated that perhaps some of those who do not come back chose to stay because they found a happier place, and lived out their lives there.” Her voice hardened. “If it is real, and they stayed from choice, then I hope the lives they live are far from happy. I have no sympathy for any who run from their responsibilities.”

And what about your responsibilities to not be an evil witch, Sheriam? Pretty hypocritical of you to judge the women trapped in the ter'angreal when you aren't even a true believer but only joined for political power!

She stared down at her dress, blue silk sewn with pearls, all dusty and torn. Her head came up, and she took in the ruins of a great palace around her. The Royal Palace of Andor, in Caemlyn.

This is of course foreshadowing the eventual destruction of Caemlyn as the central location of the Last Battle that never does quite come to pass under Brando Sando's work.

Once she stepped on a woman’s arm, sticking out from under a mound of plaster and bricks that had been an interior wall and perhaps part of the floor above. She noticed the arm as little as she noticed the Great Serpent ring on one finger. She had trained herself not to see the dead buried in the refuse heap Trollocs and Darkfriends had made of Caemlyn. She could do nothing for the dead.

It's for the best that real Egwene never quite has to steel herself in this way.

“The madness, Egwene. I am—actually—holding it—at bay.” His gasping laugh made her skin prickle. “But it takes everything I have just to do that. If I let go, even a little, even for an instant, the madness will have me. I won’t care what I do then. You have to help me.”

A lot of people think that Egwene judges Rand way too harshly in later books and while I definitely don't think she's as good as a friend as she should have been, I think we can blame this vision for some of it. The Rand of later books becomes more and more like this madman, laughing at inappropriate, mood swinging violently, not always able to channel reliably or effectively. Egwene gets to see the end of the road before everyone else does and even though he's still relatively stable in LOC, she's definitely seeing him take the first steps down it.

“If they take me—the Myrddraal—the Dreadlords—they can turn me to the Shadow. If madness has me, I cannot fight them. I won’t know what they are doing till it is too late. If there is even a spark of life left when they find me, they can still do it. Please, Egwene. For the love of the Light. Kill me.”

While the arches do seem to be psychologically manipulative, they are also great teaching tools. This scenario is clearly built out of Egwene's fear of Rand's channeling ability, but it has to up the stakes even beyond that and so pulls more facts for her to learn from.

It is a thing not done, so far as I know—Light send it has not been done!—since the Trolloc Wars. It took thirteen Dreadlords—Darkfriends who could channel—weaving the flows through thirteen Myrddraal. You see? Not easily done. There are no Dreadlords today.

But there are members of the Black Ajah, who are Dreadlords in all but name. And Sheriam can lie. But like I said, she's not a true believer, she did it for the opportunity. Is she being truthful to Egwene here, both in that the technique has not been done in two thousand years and in that she hopes it has never been done? Is that one of the reasons she holds her position, to recruit naturally and hope that things never turn to filling out the numbers in a different fashion?

Egwene stared into the standing mirror, and was not sure whether she was more surprised by the ageless smoothness of her face or the striped stole that hung around her neck. The stole of the Amyrlin Seat.

Like Nynaeve, Egwene's third vision is of a very similar future to the fate she actually gets. Is that common to all of the women who go through these arches, or is it just that their fates are so firm there's nothing to pull from but the truth?

There was an Aes Sedai at her elbow, a woman with Sheriam’s high cheekbones but dark hair and concerned brown eyes, and the hand-wide stole of the Keeper on her shoulders. Not Sheriam, though. Egwene had never seen her before; she was sure she knew her as well as she knew herself. Haltingly, she put a name to the woman. Beldeine.

"Not Sheriam, though." Fun foreshadowing for Egwene's first Keeper and her removal, that.

That thought shook her. Not that she had been Green Ajah, but that she had to reason it out.

Another question is whether the ring broke this vision but not the other two because of repeated exposure, or if the future-predicting aspects of both ter'angreal was the thing that let the resonance grow out of control?

That seemed an odd thought, too. Part of her remembered something called the Great Purge. Part of her was sure no such thing had happened.

A much less important question is if the Great Purge of this timeline was more or less successful than the main timeline, considering how things turned out.

The Flame of Tar Valon lay centered in the floor, surrounded by widening spirals of color, the colors of the seven Ajahs. At the opposite side of the room from where the ramp entered, a high-backed chair stood, heavy and ornately carved in vines and leaves, painted in the colors of all the Ajahs.

Our first look at the hall, even if it is fake. Note the emphasis both in-text and in-universe on all seven Ajahs. Even though there's definitely some problems and changes to come, all are consistently treated as an integral part of the Tower until the breaking.

One of the Red Sitters stood. Egwene was shocked to recognize Elaida. At the same time she knew that Elaida was foremost of the Sitters for the Red, and her own bitterest enemy.

Lucky of Elaida to not get taken by the Seanchan. Perhaps the arches neglected that detail specifically to fuck with Egwene more, or perhaps it was an inevitable consequence of whatever butterfly effect we're dealing with here.

One of the Green Sitters was on her feet, anger bright through her calm. “Shame, Elaida! Show respect for the Amyrlin Seat! Show respect for the Mother!”

Obviously this could be virtually any non-Black Green, but I like to think it's Farnah specifically. Could be Faiselle though if it's one of the three actual Sitters Egwene gets, probably not Rubinde since she's an Elaida loyalist in the real timeline.

As Egwene opened her mouth, Beldeine moved beside her. Then the Keeper’s staff struck her head.

No surprise that Beldeine, one of the women who will be sent to box Rand, would betray Egwene to Elaida even as her Keeper.

The pain in her head made thinking difficult, but it seemed important to count them. Thirteen.

Would being 13x13ed here have truly changed Egwene, I wonder? Was Sheriam hoping it might and trying to play towards it, or is this entirely of the resonance and thus not an outcome she could have predicted?

Flames burst from Myrddraal skin, ripping through black cloth as if they were solid daggers of fire. Shrieking Halfmen crisped and burned like oiled paper. Fist-sized chunks of stone tore themselves free of the walls and whizzed across the room, producing shrieks and grunts as they thudded into flesh. The air stirred, shifted, howled into a whirlwind.

Either Egwene is able to throw around way more power than she should be able to (our girls will later find out that setting Halfmen on fire is actually a rather bad choice, all things considered), or the arches are just playing along with her.

Egwene’s mind put a name to the face. Gyldan. Elaida’s closest confidante, always whispering together in corners, closeting themselves in the night.

We do not ever meet a Gyldan in the main timeline. She may be a real Black who just doesn't get up to much in reality, or perhaps the real Gyldan is even more unremarkable and in this timeline Mesaana replaces her, not the Brown (in which case, good on you for punching her out Egwene!). Perhaps she doesn't exist at all, though Beldeine certainly does.

It was unnerving, trotting through empty hallways. The White Tower no longer held the numbers it once had, but there was usually someone about.

Consider that the White Tower is already at its lowest membership count ever and that in this timeline we have no evidence of the reforms that lead to the Rebels having a larger roster. It may well be that with the Blacks mostly purged (or victims mostly purged, since obviously 13 are still running around), the Tower has virtually no one left at this point.

“What would you have done? What? Nothing! There’s nothing you can do. But they said they could give it back to me, with the power of . . . the power of the Dark One.”

So apparently Nynaeve never cured stilling in this timeline. She and Elayne, and really a wide variety of Aes Sedai who you'd think would be a bit sympathetic to our girl here, all seem to be gone. Has the resonance up and put Egwene in a T'A'R nightmare, is that why things are so incoherent? Can she not remember what happened not purely by glitch in the system but because there's no logical way to arrive at this scenario, so there's no memories to give her?

“More than anyone suspects,” Egwene said. “I never held the Oath Rod, Beldeine.”

This of course should technically be another bit of early installment weirdness where Jordan hasn't decided that the Oath Rod is what causes the ageless look, not channeling as a whole, but since we're in a resonance cascade or whatever it might as well be just another mismatched puzzle piece in the mystery that is this timeline.

It would need to be done quickly; there was no point if Rand was gentled while she was still wrapping Warders in Air. Even Warders would break if she loosed the lightnings on them, and balefire, and broke the ground under their feet.

I love how balefire isn't even the final option here. "I'll shoot them with lightning, and if that doesn't work I'll retroactively remove them from existence, and if THAT doesn't work I'll stick their legs in a rock because if they refuse to be balefired they obviously can't be killed, only slowed down."

Twelve Aes Sedai surrounded him, and another—who Egwene knew had to be wearing a seven-striped stole, even though she could not distinguish it—stood before Rand.

You've got to hand it to Elaida. Very few people have a destiny so set in stone that it comes true in an alternate timeline that isn't really even a timeline, but dammit every variation of her that has ever existed is going to usurp the Amyrlin Seat, and that includes nightmare versions.

Thirteen Aes Sedai. Twelve sisters and the Amyrlin, the traditional number for gentling. The same number as for. . . .

No Egwene, focus on that thought. Sure it's really only because of the metaphysics that everyone's arrived on the same number, but what does it say about the White Tower that its court system is only a mirror image of the Black Ajah's most despicable ritual?

There on the tower top, tilted to sit flat against the sloping tiles, was a silver arch filled with a glowing light. The arch flickered and wavered; streaks of angry red and yellow darted through the white light.

Are they having troubles keeping the door open because of the resonance alone, or because Egwene's scenario is so far off the map it's not normally where the arches point to? I know we'll never know, but both answers provide such rich potential for how the arches work at all. Alas.

Light plucked her apart fiber by fiber, sliced the fibers to hairs, split the hairs to wisps of nothing. All drifted apart on the light. Forever.

Pardon the math joke, but isn't that being a bit hyperbolic, Egwene?

Next time: Egwene recovers from her sorority hazing!

[stellocchia]

Ho postato 15.235 volte nel 2022

1.366 post creati (9%)

13.869 post rebloggati (91%)

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@alwerakoo

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Ho taggato 2.928 dei miei post nel 2022

#dream smp - 613 post

#anon ask - 488 post

#dream smp au - 242 post

#regulus-ready-to-scream ask - 210 post

#'long post' - 191 post

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#dream smp fanfiction - 141 post

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Longest Tag: 140 characters

#like it's not really a choice if you put a gun to someone's head and tell them it's either you do what i say or a i shoot you and your famil

I miei post migliori nel 2022:

#5

Btw, I love how there are streamers complaining the audience wants high production planned lore and won't be satisfied by anything less, and then c!Clingy, c!Jack, and c!Hannah come in with a low-key self-contained stream and everyone absolutely adores it.

Like, at the end of the day that's what made people fell in love with the dsmp streams anyway. It's the casual in character but extremely relaxed streams that do it. No matter how silly they are.

859 note - Postate 12 luglio 2022

#4

In other news, it's still somewhat funny to me how c!Fundy said no to dealing with his daddy issues, but then saw his estranged maybe uncle and his schrödinger's uncle going through the weirdest possible coping mechanism and went "yeah, that's one way I can connect with my family".

Like, good for him, hope being a noir npc helps him too

1.333 note - Postate 13 luglio 2022

#3

C!Tommy should fill his walls up in glitter so the next time c!Dream tries to hide in them he'll be sparkling and easy to see from afar for weeks

1.754 note - Postate 31 luglio 2022

#2

I absolutely LOVE Jimmy's new prank.

Please, that's so fricking good!

I think we should consider this canon, just like with the toy Jimmy stuff. Joel isn't a god, he's just a very good illusionist. He's a scam artist.

And maybe it's not even his doing! Maybe that's just what the fountain does! It covers everything in pretty little illusions that fall away with the flick of a lever.

Joel's height? His beard? His whole floating kingdom? Nothing but a pretty illusion from the fountain. And he knows it. Oh, he knows it! That's why he's so insecure. That's why he has to constantly repeat to himself that he's tall, strong, and sexy. My man's a scam artist!

2.217 note - Postate 21 novembre 2022

Il mio post numero 1 del 2022

Some people in this fandom: "c!Dream only SEEMS evil because we don't see his perspective!"

C!Dream from his perspective: "It's always morally correct to kill fortniters 😌"

3.801 note - Postate 14 gennaio 2022

Guarda ora l'Analisi del tuo anno 2022 di Tumblr →

[a-rare-female-blaziken]

Ok so thinking about ara again but for some reason I zeroed in on ZoroAra (aka the au where she dies in hisui and becomes A zoroark). Sent her to uva academy for some reason, mostly because I wanted to think about what her dorm would look like, so here's some details (im rambling rn):

The curtains are always drawn to darken the room, and the temperature's always pretty low

She has a few framed pictures, including: A very old-looking picture of her and the Hisui Gang, A more recent picture of her ten-year-old self with her family and the Hoenn gang, and a fairly new picture of her with Ingo and Emmet. Also, some group shots and portrait shots of her various Pokemon.

If the player was to look at her bed, the text would read, "There's a lot of white Pokemon hair on the sheets." (Btw none of her Pokemon have white fur. Ooooh how mysterious I wonder how that got there)

She has a carved Pokeshi doll on her windowsill.

She also has a bookshelf with a number of books. Sitting front and center is a thick book with a blue cover. The pages are worn, yellowed, heavily annotated with multiple different people's handwriting, and have lots of notes and other papers sticking out from between the pages. (Professor Laventon transcribed all the data to a different book and let her keep the original dex when she had to leave.) If interacted with, it would open up a menu that would let the player go to the following pages: Decidueye, Gallade, Garchomp, Walrein, Ninetails, Dusclops, and Zoroark (aka her Hisuian team and her.) It would open up to the actual pages and PLA dex entries for the Pokemon, with a few extra notes in the margins.

Her kitchen would feature a teapot on the stove and a recipe book open to potato mochi lol

the whole theming of the room would probably be light purples, pinks, and greens. I feel like those colors just suit her.

Besides details in her room, I think it'd be funny if npcs would sometimes talk about her and how strange she is. Stuff like she only ever attends night classes, she has strangely glowy yellow eyes, her hair always seems to float, her teeth are sharp, and the way she talks to Pokemon you'd think she understands their language. Probably one or two would mention how she used to be the Champion of the Hoenn Region, but went missing for a couple years and came back... strange.

Ara can't create perfect illusions because she's bad at being a Zoroark and also deception is simply not in her nature. Disguising herself as a human, she can get pretty close, but Zoroark elements tend to bleed through.

The only people in on the secret are Clavell because he's the director and probably should know, Nurse Miriam because what if Ara gets hurt and needs her help or something, and Jacq because he's her uncle. Raifort is probably on to her but doesn't know anything for certain. Oh and dammit Geeta would probably have to know but I hate Geeta so we'll ignore that fact

Its a little awkward, technically being a Pokemon who trains Pokemon, but she talks it out with the Pokemon she catches and makes sure they're cool with it. If they're not, she doesn't mind releasing them.

Honestly she's just here to keep her nose clean and do the gym challenge, trying to relieve her early days as a trainer before Everything. No missions from Arceus, no saving the world, no taking down evil teams, no maniacal legend-obsessed people trying to take over the world by stealing ancient magical artifacts, no time travel-- oh arceus damn it there's a time machine. She probably gets sucked into Operation Starfall a little but the player would still be doing the bulk

Yeah she'd somehow, against her better judgement, end up on the Area Zero mission, where she'd have to reveal her secret to the player, Nemona, Arven, and Penny. But honestly they're cool with it. Fluffy

Wow this turned out longer than I meant it to

[heesterical]

Heartbreak Anniversary — l.hs.

PAIRING Heeseung x GN!Reader.

SYNOPSIS Sometimes, choosing to give your all to one person, can be a bad idea. This time would be different though, you hoped. You hoped for it, although you knew that fate does not favour the hopeful. And you were right, in a way, it seemed — because fate did not favour you either.

GENRES AND THEMES angst. Post break-up scenario so Y/n is still grieving (?), iland happens when Heeseung is 21, so technically non-idol AU? briefly flashback AU.

WARNINGS Mentions of break up, Y/n is sad, Heeseung is a coward (sorry). Let me know if there are others!

WORD COUNT 1.5k words.

NOTE reposting from old blog.

One week.

It had been a whole seven days since Heeseung broke up with you at your favourite spot — the spot that held so many of your memories; memories that you shared with him.

One week since you had excitedly walked up the stairs to meet him, a cake box packed neatly in a cute cover in hand, hoping to share it with him on your special day.

One week since he left you with no explanation as to why he was breaking up with you — nothing more than a “I don’t think we should keep seeing each other anymore.”

It was rather cruel to you, Jake had said. And at first, you agreed with him.

It was indeed cruel, to not only crush someone’s heart and expectations but to not explain it… three years of your relationship, right up from your chaotic age of eighteen until your very first steps into adulthood as a twenty-one-year-old…

Regardless of the relationship you two had shared, he had been a part of your life for long enough to at least give you an explanation as to why he was leaving you, didn’t he? Or was that just too much to ask for?

Somehow, wondering that felt selfish. Why? Was it because Heeseung had been one of the most gentle, kind-hearted person you had known? Or was it because he had treated you as an equally important person to himself until he had decided to cast your relationship aside and walk away without another glance?

It still hurt. And you believed you had the right to feel hurt; so why?

Why did you still hold that hope that maybe… just maybe, he hadn’t ended things because you no longer meant as much to him as you once did? That… maybe he still loved you?

False hope, you remind yourself. That was just you holding onto false hope; a hope that was sure to leave more hurt in its wake.

But his pained expression continued to linger at the back of your head, haunting you. If he no longer wanted to be with you, why did he have to look at you like that?

Like he, too, didn’t want this. Like he wished for a different situation - a situation where he wouldn’t have to make this decision.

Funny how you were supposed to spend the day after your anniversary going on a one-week trip with him like you two had planned. It was supposed to be romantic and beautiful. And you were supposed to return today, happy and energised. Instead, here you were, hugging a metaphorical knife to your chest as you held back tears.

Were you overreacting? It felt like you were. But did it really matter? No, no, it didn’t. Not when he knew how much this place meant to you, and yet decided to go ahead and break your heart.

This was the very place you two had had your first kiss, and also the place where you had finally gathered the courage to ask him out. The place you two would randomly find yourselves in, late at night when you couldn’t go back to sleep, and being surprised when you ran into the other without notice.

The terrace of an old empty building, one that was supposed to be torn down for reconstruction. But that never came, and you two had occupied it as a secret hideaway instead. Conveniently, it was just a few blocks away from your apartment, too.

Heeseung had introduced this place to you, having admitted that this was the place he used to come to often, especially when he wanted to clear his head; which somehow made it more... special? Meaningful?

The terrace was pretty high up, and the fire exit was the only way to it. Climbing the stairs was a good workout, Heeseung had joked. A dry smile graces your lips at that thought.

Reaching the door leading to the open terrace, your breath catches in your throat. It wasn’t the exertion of climbing three flights of stairs, no. Something stirs in your heart, seeing the usually tightly closed door set ajar with nothing but a rock holding it from slamming shut, locking out whoever was out there.

If someone was out there.

Heeseung… he must be here; you think, hesitating at the top step. Would walking out to see for yourself if he really was here help? Was it worth the pain to — possibly — see the look of annoyance or displeasure on his face?

Heeseung had never once looked at you with anything more than adoration. He always had this soft look in his eyes, like one would when they’re looking at someone precious to them.

But was it all in your head? Had he truly adored you? If he had, why did he have to leave?

“What do you think about going-”

“Y/n?” You pause. Y/n. Not sweetheart, or darling, or even some of the silly nicknames he had given you.

“Yeah?”

“Can we talk?”

You hear his voice clearly in your head, the memory still fresh.

It had felt like a nightmare when he had uttered those words.

“I think we should break up.”

“What?”

The rest of it was a blur.

Taking a deep breath, you wrench open the door, cringing at the familiar metallic screech. You step outside. Nothing.

It was empty, as to be expected. It looked like there was no one here. Sighing, you take a seat against the wall, looking up at the cloudless sky.

You recall the first time you two had been caught by the security guard, Mr. Kang. He shooed you both away every time, but you two still continued to sneak in, until he had given up.

Soon, you and Heeseung dropped by more freely, sometimes greeting him on your way up. It was a fond memory for sure, running away with Heeseung or sneaking up the stairs like a pair of rebellious teens, muffled laughter and intertwined fingers.

Growing up, you had lost many people in your life. Sure, that was normal, but it still sucked, you know? It felt as though, one by one, all of your loved ones were leaving you. Not Heeseung though; he was the one constant in your life. The one person who had stuck by your side through thick and thin.

Maybe that was why the sudden distance between you two had hit hard. From knowing each other like the back of your hands to complete strangers. Sure, you still believed that you knew him. But was it as entirely as you had believed? Did you know the real him? If you did, would you be here right now?

The loud silence keeps you company. It felt different; you muse. This was the very silence that gave you peace of mind after a hectic week before. Now it just made the voices in your head resound more clearly. Frustrated, you get up, dusting off your clothes and making your way downstairs.

Maybe coming here was a bad idea.

“You’re here again,”

The familiar voice startles you out of your thoughts, and you whip around to find Mr Kang with an exasperated smile.

“Hello, sir.” You smile a little sheepishly.

“Did you see the boy?”

Your smile fades a little.

“No? I haven’t seen him in a while…”

“He must have left already then,” the guard muses. “My, he looked so down in the dumps lately. That must be why.”

Your smile had completely faded by now,

“He came by?” you question, feeling your mouth run dry.

“He comes by everyday now.” the old man continues, oblivious to your fallen expression. “I saw him sit there for hours and when he came back down, his eyes were red… Did you two fight?”

He looks over at you, a shocked expression replacing the thoughtful one he had had earlier.

“My, why do you look like you’re going to cry, too?”

You sniffle, shaking your head.

“Did he tell you anything?”

The security guard looks concerned, but he tries to recall. Scratching his chin, he speaks up.

“I think he said something about… island? Was he going on vacation?” Mr Kang tilts his head. “Was he sad he had to be away from you?”

iland. So that’s what this was about.

“I have to go,”

The old man doesn’t stop you as you hurry away, huddling into your sweatshirt to hide your tears. He could have told you something.

Did he not know that you would be supportive of him? Did he not know that you would wait for him? Feeling the tears starting to prick at your eyes harder, you hurry home, not wanting to cry in the streets.

Was that how little he trusted your love for him?

Enhypen masterlist.

[lesbiansforboromir]

So, I've waded through the "rings of power" tag here, and heard every bit of negative feedback. The Eminem looking fella everyone assumed was Annatar, beardless dwarf women, short hair elves, old Celebrimbor, "politically ambitious" Elrond, and all the costume critiques made by those spoiled by WETA workshop. And of course, the fact half the show is made from just the LotR appendices, the other from scratch. I don't suppose you have any positive notes from the trailer?

MY FRIENDS? That trailer was absolutely great I've no idea what you're all on about, it revealed nothing negative in my view about the show that we didn't already know (except the Balrog at the end but I had suspected that for a while and I'll talk about it later.)

Okay first off for the elf fans out there, pretty sure the first scene is literally the aftermath of the battle of sudden flame like I know piles are big Nirnaeth arnoidiad imagery but that wasnt a pile of bodies it was a pile of helmets (bodies burned to ash??) and all around it the whole landscape is scorched to hell and that shot was incredibly ominous! For what I can only imagine is a brief flashback shot, that was a really striking representation of that obscure first age battle! Is that not cool to you elf fans? It seems like they're gonna give Galadriel a dead brother compilation! I thought it was cool and I couldn't care less about these folks.

But more importantly PALANTIR? 👀👀 oh acknowledgement of Palantiri in Numenor, Tar-Miriel using it BEING it's user, the special tower specifically created and designed with precise geometry to enhance the Palantir's sight!!!! Do I think Galadriel and Miriel were ever here in this tower together? No! But it's a cool scene to think about, it's a cool concept to ponder even for noted Galadriel-hater me! Where are all the AU fanfic lovers out there, come ship these two!! And once again I have to keep saying this; all the imagery of Numenor has been absolutely impeccable, I literally couldnt have asked for better numenorean design work, did yall know they went and built a city to film this all in? I had to stim about it.

AND NIMLOTH AHHHH That's my fucking tree mum there she IS she looks so beautiful I genuinely cried when I saw her and i was RIGHT too I thought those petals in the teaser trailer were from her! The way the arches around her are so old they are degrading because the anti-elf sentiment has meant people do not care for the tree and it's setting as they used too?? I'm excited to watch Numenorean politics! I think Miriel and Pharazon are attending Tar-Palantir's funeral here too.

Okay now listen, the eminem thing was funny initially but this here priestess doesn't look THAT much like him first off she just has buzzed white hair. And secondly Sauron cult!! I love Sauron cult and seeing the religious side to his influence and the way they're wearing WHITE I love that so much yes evil people wearing white. Am I psyched about stereotypical gender non-conforming woman being the Evil Priestess here? No not really, but her eyes look scary and we haven't seen the Sauron cult on screen before so!! I'm excited about it, it's a unique plot point to include! The ominous rune and the 'have you heard of Sauron' and spooky evil swords!! It's very Silmarillion is what I'm saying!

Not specific to this trailer but the looks at Khazad-Dum so far have been absolutely spectacular, I might not be a fan of this much exposed rock without beauty to that rock but just the sheer scale of it and the blue light to it and the way it's so lively and the dwarven battle masks that cover their beards too!! And Durin's costume!!! I'm so unbelievably excited for the dwarf stuff, Disa's character especially is so exciting, she's also a mother as well as being Durin's wife apparently like!! Thats an aspect of dwarvenness we've never seen on screen before and I want to see what Sophie Nomvete does with it!

Okay and THE HORROR MONSTERIFICATION OF ORCS BABES! Make orcs fucking terrifying yes oh my god, they're strong they're silent they strike in the dark they terrorised Middle Earth for seven thousand years and they ARE a threat, even one of them! Love that angle to view them in, really exciting as a concept!

ALSO! Just as more of an aside but I love all the mature romantic relationships we're getting in this show. As far as I can tell the only romance plot we're possibly going to see is between Kemen and Earien, Arondir and Bronwyn have been together for a while, Disa and Durin are married! Also Bronwyn already has a son? Is that with Arondir? I want her to be divorced with an elf husband so badly but her old husband is probably dead OR Theo is half elf which would also be cool, NO MATTER WHAT I'm into all of them.

BIG FISH!!

And just a bunch of little things and design choices in all the scenes, the tambre of the voices, the acting itself I'm!! Excited!! We haven't DONE this in so long, in fact the tolkien fandom has never done this, we've never had a piece of tolkien media where we dIDN'T know what was going to happen in it and more importantly to ME it's been far too long that PJ's been allowed a monopoly on tolkien designs, lets see what this has to offer! Come on, most of you were kids like me when the lotr films came out and when I was a kid I loved them and had a fantastic time watching them, be twelve again!! This is new and unique! Lets all have fun together about it! :D

Addendum: Yes, I am annoyed that (as seems likely) dwarves cannot be allowed narratives that dont revolve around their homes being traumatically taken from them through some narrative moralisation of gold and mining that has very antisemetic undertones. I would have liked dwarf politics not just Balrog. 

[talesofstyles]

Drs Styles

paediatric heart surgeon harry, husband harry and dad harry. honestly the holy trinity.

warning: they did it in the car. bloody animals.

Harry

“Move your car, please!”

“What are you going to do? Write me a ticket?”

“This is in the interests of safety for the children!”

I look at the time in the car. I’ve still got about twenty to twenty-five minutes to watch this drama unfold at the school gate. I just wish we had popcorn because drop-off and parking situations at the school gates are always more entertaining than Good Morning Britain. 

The school gate is a strange social scene, and honestly, I don’t blame my wife for trying to avoid it like a plague. Sometimes, you don’t even have to talk to these people to know everything about their lives and more. I swear there are more gossips in the class WhatsApp group and daily playground chattering than in the copies of The Sun and Daily Mail combined. You know who’s married, who’s getting a divorce, whose husband shagged the au pair again, whose party you haven’t been invited to, even who’s looking for a builder. 

I see the school caretaker chuckling to himself as he sweeps the autumn leaves off the pathway, no doubt also enjoying our morning entertainment. 

“Why is Mrs Chambers screaming like that?” Alma, our eldest daughter, asks from the back of the car. 

“Because that man parks his car in a drop-off zone,” I reply, still watching him as he removes a child from his car seat. “Do you know who that is?”

“I think the boy is your classmate,” Alma turns to her sister.

Fiona, our youngest, peers over to inspect. “Oh yeah, that’s Rufus and his dad.”

“Do we like Rufus?”

“Not unless we like boys who pee down the slides,” Fiona scrunches her nose up. “He stood at the top and peed down like a waterfall. I haven’t gone down the slide ever since.”

I shake my head and let out a chuckle. “M’sure they’ve cleaned it up since, button.” 

Did you know that choosing a school for your child after nursery can be a head-throbbing, stomach-twisting, heart-pounding experience? Well, it can. How is one supposed to choose a school anyway? According to the proximity? Leavers Results? Adorable uniforms? Parents’ agendas?

After many, many discussions and visits through more schools than I can count, we ended up with Thomas’s Kensington. It’s a great school, and only ten minutes away from our home, making school runs easier. The downside of this school is the fact that it costs us an arm and a leg and that they’re always trying to rip us off any chance they get. Also, they only take the kids until 11, so after that, we’ll have to look for other schools again. But since our girls are only seven and five, we can worry about that later. 

There’s a strange mix of parents at this place. I went to school up in the North and the school gate scene is nothing like this. Here there are more au pairs, fancy cars, nicer clothes and people coming with impressive tans from their last weekend break in Antibes. The kids here are suited up too: the PE kit is the size of a small weekender bag, and we put them in uniforms that make them look smart, hoping that will increase the size of their brains. A child walks past our car with a cello case, another with a hockey stick. It’s a different land here. One that my socialist in-laws constantly tease us about and one which my mum was hysterical about because she was scared her grandbabies would be little Tories. I promised her I’d keep them grounded by only giving them plain hobnobs. None of those luxury chocolate covered ones.

Jokes aside, my girls are happy here. They’re thriving. They learn French and Spanish and Mandarin, even if they share a class with kids who have ridiculous names like Kitty and Archibald. 

A knock at my window calls me to attention. I wind it down.

“Are you Fiona’s dad?” A mum asks me.

“I am.”

“It’s about Ophelia’s riding party this Saturday at the riding stables.” 

Like I said, it’s a different land here.

“I thought we RSVPed to that?” I look at her in confusion.

“Yes, you did, but we have to change the food options as one of the partygoers is allergic to nuts. I’m making everyone aware and we need to let the guests know that they can’t bring any nuts on the day.”

A dirty joke is right there on the tip of my tongue and I’m trying my hardest to keep it in. My wife would definitely find it funny though, I’ve got to remember this and tell her later. 

“Noted,” I mean, I wasn’t going to send my daughter to a party with a packet of cashews anyway but I nod politely.

“And just gift vouchers for gifts please. Smiggle, if you can.”

Again, I nod, biting my tongue at the presumptuousness. But then I suddenly panic, because we haven’t entered the realms of pony riding just yet. Do I have to buy jods and boots? If I don’t, will my daughter be the odd one out? But Ophelia’s mum saunters off before I’ve got the chance to ask.

“Do I have to go to that party, daddy?” Fiona asks. 

“Well, we’ve already replied, poppet,” I tell her. “Did you not want to go?”

“I’ll go if I have to.”

I don’t answer because I get distracted by a vacant space. I edge the car forward so my girls can hop off. 

“I love you both. Have a good day, make good choices.” 

“Bye daddy! We’ll see you after work!”

***

Evelina London Children’s Hospital is our second home. Of course, as a children’s hospital, we try to make the place as fun as possible as not to freak those little patients out at being ill. It is bright and primary coloured, and each ward is decorated according to its own theme with different colours and lovely artworks. There are televisions and toys almost in every corner. We have a giant slide on the ground floor, and even the bins are shaped like red London buses. The aim was to help the children to forget that they’re in a hospital and take their minds off their sickness.

Since my wife and I are in the same department, our offices are next to each other, both overlooking the Thames. It’s nice up here. Would’ve been nicer if we could sneak in a quickie, but that’s practically impossible with our shared secretary’s desk sitting literally in front of our doors. 

Speak of the devil.

“Good morning. Here’s your tea,” my secretary follows me into my office with a cup of tea and a tiny plate with a couple of rich tea fingers. “Clinic until 3 pm, scheduled PDA ligation in the laboratory for 4 pm and then evening rounds on the wards.”

“Mornin’ Rhonda, you look lovely today,” I greet her cheerily. She’s a stern-looking woman who definitely likes her tea as strong as tits and who has probably never cried in her life. With such severity, she runs a tight ship, but she secretly has this affectionate side in her too. Not only is she a great secretary, but she also takes care of us in a way as a grandma does. She makes us tea, feeds us in between surgeries with biscuits or nice baby cheeses and crackers just so we wouldn’t starve. 

See that sofa over there in the corner of my office? Rhonda got me that. It was around the time when I had just become a new father with the sweetest, most gorgeous little baby who did not sleep. Alma wasn’t a fussy baby though. For some reason, she just wouldn’t go back to sleep after her midnight feed for months. Believe me, I tried everything. I changed her nappy, I swayed and jiggled and rocked and sung her to sleep. Odd nonsensical songs like, ‘Alma darling go to sleeep. Sleepy sleep sleep. Pleeeeease. I’m so tirrrred. My eyeballs may actually exploooode. I don’t want you to see thaaat.’ And she would just look at me all wide-eyed like I’d lost the plot. Those were song lyrics? That was rubbish. Please don’t give up your day job. Also, it’s not sleeping time. I’m awake. I’m ready for life. Come on, entertain me, old man. Isn’t this nice, just you and me? Tell me everything you know. EVERYTHING. 

Except of course she didn’t say all that. She would just stare at me and I had no idea what was going on in her little head. 

I took over my wife’s patients at the hospital during her maternity leave, so I had longer hours at the hospital. One day Rhonda found me napping on the floor between surgeries, so she sweet-talked some porters into looking for any old sofas on the go and paid to have this one reupholstered. She even bought me a fleece throw for it too. We really don’t deserve her.

“You hittin’ on me?” She deadpans. “Yer wife not doing it for you these days?”

“It’s the blazer. I’m a sucker for a blazer.”

“If I’d known, I would’ve worn it more often,” she replies. “Did my nice dress yesterday not give you the fanny flutters?”

“It’s schlong shiver for me,” I roar with laughter. “And it’s the tartan, makes you look well old.”

“YN, yer husband’s a bloody git, did I ever tell you that?” Rhonda says loud enough for my wife to hear, and I can hear my wife’s laughter from her office next door. “Drink your tea. Your first clinic appointment is in twenty.”

“Yes ma’am,” I salute her. 

***

The Arctic ward in the Evelina is home to many of our imaging, heart and kidney services. The name is probably giving it away, but everything is decorated in blue and white to go with the theme. We have several zones, and since paediatric cardiology clinics are held in the Walrus zone, I spend a great deal of time each day looking at walrus and snowflake decals. 

“Doctor Styles!” I hear a little voice shouts in excitement as I walk towards the waiting room in the outpatient ward. I smile, because I recognise that voice even before I see the little person.

The waiting room is very open here compared to other hospitals. There’s a sea of noise, snacks, tiny juice boxes and colouring pages. There’s also always a look of expectation, judgement on the faces of parents and guardians every time I walk in. They want to see if their doctor is old or qualified enough to see their children. There’s always one child who has the whole gang with them; parents, two sets of grandparents and even several aunts and uncles, and there’s also at least one child running around in circles out of boredom. 

This little lad bounces off his chair and hurls himself at me in a way like a little puppy would when its owner comes home from work. I put an arm out, hoping that he’ll apply the brakes but no such luck and he bundles himself into my arms. “Nice to see you, mate.”

His parents smile as they watch their son’s antics, who then runs off as I shake their hands. I turn around to see what caught his attention, and I can’t help but chuckle when I realise it’s my wife. 

“Doctor pretty Styles!” He exclaims excitedly as he bundles himself into her arms. She gets a mouthful of curls in the process. 

“Hi Rory,” she greets him as she runs her fingers through his curly mop. 

“Oi,” I pout as I walk towards them. “You don’t think I’m pretty?”

“Your wife is prettier,” he says with a shrug, his tone matter-of-fact.

She laughs and gives him a high-five. “Rory, you are officially my favourite patient.”

She is right. Rory is one of our special patients for sure. We’ve both known him for about six years now, ever since Rory’s mum gave birth to this tiny human next door at St Thomas and his heart was literally broken. I remember watching proudly from the theatre when my wife replaced two of his valves when he was born. It was in our early years of training. Long time patients like Rory almost always feel like family. We’ve seen all their parents’ tears and watched over their children throughout the years. They send us cards and wine every Christmas and despite all attempts to keep a professional distance, their kids do feel like our own.

Rory shrugs off his dinosaur rucksack and unzips it, pulling out a drawing of a blue whale and an opened packet of KitKat. I like that the whale wears a top hat and appears to also don a moustache. 

“I drew you both a picture. Only one though, because I figure you can share,” he says with a big toothy grin and hands the packet of KitKat to my wife. “And I’ve got half a KitKat here. Do you want it?”

“I’m good for now. Keep that KitKat for later on the tube,” she smiles and waves at Rory as she begins to walk away towards the fetal cardiology ward just down the hall. “Bye Rory, thanks for the picture.”

“Bye doctor pretty Styles,” Rory replies, making my wife laugh as she walks away. I give her a wave and a wink. 

“Hey Rory, did you know a blue whale has a heart the size of a small car?” I ask him and his eyes widen.

“No way! That’s mega!” He exclaims. “Do you think you could operate on a whale heart?”

“I would need a very big ladder,” I tell him. “And a wetsuit. I’d give it a go though.”

A senior nurse from the outpatient ward, Florence approaches us with a junior nurse trailing behind her. “Dr Styles, always a pleasure.”

I smile at her. “Florence. How are we today?”

“Busy as usual,” she replies. “We’re about twenty minutes behind I’m afraid. We had Dr Goodridge in this morning and you know he likes to talk.”

“He always runs over,” I chuckle. “Well, don’t worry. I’ll skip lunch and get us back up to speed.”

“I’ll make sure to send some snacks for you. Here’s your chart, your files are already in your office. And this is Alice, your nurse today. She’s newly qualified so might need some instructions.”

The new nurse looks terrified so I smile at her to try and calm her fears. I totally get that. When you work in medicine, unfortunately, you’ll realise that there are a lot of rude self-important wankers. 

I look down at my chart and find Rory’s name on the top of the list. “Well, look who’s coming with me to the exam room.”

Rory reaches out to hold my hand and we walk towards the examination room. His parents follow us closely, carrying the usual coats and devices that people do when they know they’re bound for a hospital waiting room. I see them inside and sit behind the desk.

“So, young man, I hear we’ve had a touch of drama with you. Can you tell me what happened?”

I’ve actually already got the information in the file, but I like the way this kid tells a story. He reminds me of my youngest. 

“So… I was at school and we were doing PE and I wasn’t really feeling it because it was cold and really we should have been inside but Mr Witter makes us go outside because he used to be in the Army apparently and he says we should get used to the cold but that’s what they do in prisons.”

I smile. “Go on.”

“And then my heart started running.”

“You mean racing?”

He nods firmly. Racing isn’t even the word. It sprinted to the finish like Bolt at 252 beats per minute, three times the speed it should.

“It felt like bubbles in my chest and then the school went crazy panicky and they called the ambulance and they brought me to the hospital but not this one, it was another one and it wasn’t as good because you weren’t there and they had really bad biscuit.”

His mum adds. “And they gave him some drugs to bring it back to a steady rhythm; they were close to shocking him.” Her voice trails off and both parents’ faces look drawn and pale remembering the incident.

Rory looks absolutely unbothered by this. To be fair, we have put this little man through everything. We’ve cut his chest open more times than is necessary for someone so small, we hook him up to machines and put him on treadmills. His resilience and character amaze me, and I really can’t imagine what it feels like to see your child so vulnerable and helpless, to be paralysed and weighed down with such worry.

“Alright then, little man, we need to make sure that your heart is working as it should. This is Alice, and she is going to take you over for an ECG and we just need to make sure your tick-tock is in good shape.”

Rory nods and jumps off the chair. His dad offers him a piggyback, and his mum smiles at them. I can hear Rory offering that half KitKat to Alice as they leave the room. 

His mother turns to me as the door is closed, her shoulders relaxing, allowing herself to breathe. “And how are you?” I ask her.

“You just think it’s done and then something like that comes along to scare you,” she says with a sigh.

“Let’s have these tests and then see if it’s anything major to worry about,” I try to calm her. “Episodes of rapid heartbeat is quite common in Rory’s case, and we can look into drugs to remedy that if necessary.”

She smiles, nodding.

“Did you have any other questions for me?”

She studies my face for a moment too long. “I… well, it will show up in Rory’s records soon, but my husband I are… I mean we’re getting a divorce.”

I pause for a moment. Of course, I know these things happen in life, but I’ve known this couple for years. I’ve seen them at their lowest ebb, bound by friendship and their love for that boy. I really do feel sorry for them.

“Oh, I’m sorry,” I mumble.

“We just… we’re terrified about telling Rory.”

“He doesn’t know?” I ask.

She shakes her head. “We’re scared of breaking him. I mean, look at him. All of this stuff he’s been through and he carries on like nothing has happened. We don’t want to upset him.”

“It took a team of us the best part of six years to build Rory’s heart. There's a warranty on that workmanship,” I reassure her. “Have that chat with him. He’ll be fine.”

***

“Have we got time for dinner first?” I turn to my wife as we walk out of the hospital. We don’t normally have the luxury of ending our shift at the same time, but today is exceptional. We have parents’ evening at the girls’ school so Rhonda made sure to clear up our schedule after our evening rounds at the ward. 

“No, but we can raid M&S and eat in the car?”

I’m starving and I almost cry with relief at the suggestion. “Always knew I married the right woman.”

She chuckles. “Damn right you did.”

We leave the car at the hospital and she drags me along the walkways to Waterloo, the breeze biting at our cheeks. I pull her into M&S, dodging the marching commuters and grab a basket. 

“I’ll look for some wine,” she says before she saunters off. “Oh and I want sushi. None of that crap with the mayonnaise please.”

“Alright.”

I skipped lunch today so the whole place calls to me. I start taking very random things off the shelves: a packet of raspberry iced buns. That’ll do. I also take some hummus for my wife because she bloody loves hummus. I’m not even joking, I’ve seen her down a whole pot of it. Then I take some sushi as requested, some coleslaw, a family bag of mature cheddar and red onion crisps and a trifle. I hope I don’t bump into Rhonda. Next are cheese twists, noodle salad and cocktail sausages. 

It takes me a while to notice that there is a man right next to me with a roll of yellow stickers in their back pocket. Hello there, you are one of my favourite people tonight. Have I managed to find that sacred hour when all the food is being marked down? He labels some prawns with dip and even though I get a little squeamish about eating fish near its expiry date, I put it in my basket. I then follow him around the corner. Now, this is dinner. I put all sorts of random food in my basket and smile at the thought.

Ooh, knockdown pizzas. I should get a pizza. That’s tomorrow’s tea sorted, the girls will love it. Although I can’t help but wonder, what’s the limit for us to feed our daughters frozen pizza in a week before they get taken away from us? But eh, we might be able to get away with it if we give them frozen peas on the side. 

“Look at you,” says my wife, depositing two bottles of red in the basket. 

“Yes, it’s me. I’m the yellow sticker bitch.”

She snickers as we turn to head for the tills. “Excellent work.”

***

“Mr and Mrs Styles, welcome.”

“Mrs Ebner, always a pleasure,” I shake the headmistress’ hand who’s standing at the door. 

“Busy evening?” My wife asks her as she shakes her hand next.

“Always,” the headmistress replies with a smile, then proceeds to speak like she’s reading out of brochures. “But such a wonderful opportunity to connect with our parents and build on the special relationships we have with our school community.” 

Two uniformed minions appear.

“Lewis, Maggie, could you please show Mr and Mrs Styles through to the drinks reception?”

They both nod in unison. The boy holds his arms out like a waiter showing us to our table. We follow them through the school’s grand corridors to the main hall. It’s the one thing I like about this place. It’s very Hogwarts-like with hefty engraved name boards and sepia photos of successful sports teams. In the hall, a throng of parents mill around waiting to see respective teachers. It’s the same every year. We all dodge the people from the PTA trying to sell us quiz tickets, and the bowls of crisps out of hygiene concerns.

“Red or white?” Asks a lady in an apron.

This right here is the very reason we get through parents’ evening. From the look of the bottle, it’s decent wine too. I think that’s where a good proportion of our fees is going. 

“Red, please.”

We both take our glasses and walk to the corner of the hall. It’s essentially a holding area without the background music. The idea is that all the parents will get on and create a party vibe but it just becomes a strange family gathering. As terrible as it sounds, it’s sorted into cliques: parents who know each other via NCT groups, the international expat brigades who keep to themselves, the parents who’ve ostracised themselves by gossip, the ones who you know regularly brunch and ski together.

The boy from earlier suddenly appears in front of us. “Mrs Hughes is ready for you.”

I put my hand on the small of my wife’s back as we walk towards the classroom. Fiona’s teacher first and then Alma’s straight after. Right, we can do this.

“Mrs Hughes, we meet again,” I shake her hand. I’ve got no qualms about Mrs Hughes. She’s a seasoned teacher who likes a slack and sensible moccasin and we’re familiar with her since she taught Alma two years previously. When we enter the classroom, Lewis bows in reverence, taking his leave and I wonder whether to tip him. 

“It’s always lovely to have another Styles girl in my classroom. Fiona is a particular delight.”

My wife and I smile proudly. I’m sure Mrs Hughes says this to every parent here about their child, but that’s always nice to hear. 

“She talks a lot about you,” my wife says. “She seems to have settled in well.”

Mrs Hughes opens up a couple of books and it’s classic Fiona. Alma is ordered and neat—if she makes a mistake then she erases it completely and she underlines things with a ruler and listens to instruction carefully. She gets that from her mum. Fiona though, on the other hand, she’s all me. She has more wild abandon about her; no rulers, no rubbers. She puts giant crosses through things that don’t work and likes her bubble writing decorated with doodles of many, many cats.

I glance around the classroom as Mrs Hughes talks to us about standardised scores. The theme of the school is to show you how smart and educated these children are. Look at the copperplate handwriting, their reproductions of Van Gogh and our languages corner where they’ve all had a go at telling us what they like in French. I spy a contribution from my girl. J’adore les chats et le gâteau au chocolat. 

I’ve lost track of the conversation so I try to catch up.

“So to push Fiona into those top scores, perhaps we can look into tutoring? For maths, in particular, so she can grasp some of the concepts a little more tightly,” says Mrs Hughes. 

My wife and I look at each other confused. “Uh, I don’t think there’s a need, right? She’s only five.”

“It’s never too early,” replies Mrs Hughes. “We run an after-school tutoring club on Tuesdays that would help.”

Back when I was a youngster, clubs were fun endeavours that involved matching baseballs caps or were a chocolate biscuit that you had in your lunchbox. Maths tutoring session was not a club.

I ask her. “Is it free?”

“It’s fifteen pounds per session.”

See? My point being this should be a parents’ evening, not a sales session.

“Well, then it’s something to think about,” says my wife. “It could be that Fiona catches up with people throughout the year.”

“Possibly,” Mrs Hughes nods. Still, though, she proceeds to go into her folder and passes me a form. Sneaky. “Fiona has also shown great interest in languages and art. Her pictures have been a joy.”

Mrs Hughes goes to a file and pulls one of Fiona’s drawings. I glance down at it. It’s a standard child piece of art. The grass and sky are strips of colour to the top and bottom. It’s a family portrait, and we are as tall as the broccoli style trees. Wait, hang on a second. I count the number of people in the picture again. Is that-

“And Mrs Styles, I gather congratulations are in order,” she says with a smile. “Such lovely news.”

“I’m sorry?”

“Fiona told me it’s a boy,” she adds, and the sheer terror on my wife’s face at the realisation is priceless. “You must be very thrilled.”

I study the picture. There’s a house in the middle, and standing in a line in front of the house is our family. The one slightly taller than the broccoli tree is me. I’ve got my white lab coat, and I look like a serial killer because I’m holding a scalpel with the size of a butcher’s knife. Next to me is my wife, also with a white lab coat, but instead of a scalpel, she’s holding a very chunky baby who rather looks like a basketball with a head.

“Oh dear,” I chuckle. “Guess now we know what she’ll ask for Christmas.”

“Yeah,” my wife shakes her head. “We’re not expecting.”

“Oh, I apologise,” Mrs Hughes says with a sheepish smile.

“No worries, Mrs Hughes,” I tell her. “So, what else has our girl been up to here? Besides gossiping of course.”

Mrs Hughes laughs under her breath. “Well, in class, Fiona is attentive, bright and very helpful. She is a credit to you both.”

***

“I swear your daughter, Styles.”

We’re sitting in the car now. Finally done with parents’ evening, still laughing at the slightly creepy, chunky basketball baby in Fiona’s picture and the fact that three people, including Mrs Hughes, have congratulated us for the ‘baby’.

“You haven’t called me Styles in years,“ I turn to her with a grin. “Not since medical school.”

I can’t help but flashback to the good ol’ days when we had matching university hoodies and we’d test each other on the parts of a kidney whilst walking into lectures, sitting next to each other, sharing pens and cans of Lilt. 

“Well, after that I became a Styles too,” she chuckles. “Would be confusing then, wouldn’t it?”

“True,” I laugh under my breath, then I grab her hand and pull it to my mouth so I can kiss her knuckles. “Thank you.”

“What for?”

“For being a Styles.”

“Aw, aren’t we soppy tonight?” She smirks. “Alright, stop the car.”

“What?”

“There,” she points to a dark empty spot and I oblige. 

Then, before I can even ask her why, she reaches over and grabs me by the collar. Pulling me close to her and gives me a kiss. I kiss her back, and I smile when she bites gently on my bottom lip.

“Oi, oi. Something’s got you randy.”

The next thing I know, she undoes her seatbelt and then rolls her trousers down her legs along with her knickers, fumbling and giggling at the awkward movement. I push my seat back and pull my trousers down. 

“Don’t fall on gearstick now,” I joke as she climbs over to straddle me. “Well, unless you want to, of course…”

She laughs as she lowers herself over my lap. I really can’t believe what’s happening here.

“Mrs Styles, we’re about to have sex in a car. Around the corner from our daughters’ school.” 

“I know,” she says with a smile before she runs her tongue along my neck. “Not our first rodeo though.”

“Oh right, we did it in our Volvo years ago, didn’t we? Thought the suspension couldn’t take it.”

“And it turned out fine. Told you that you needed to have more faith in the Swedes, they’re a reliable breed.”

“I love it when you talk about Sweden.”

“Ikea.”

“Fuck.”

“Meatballs.”

“Billy Bookcase.”

She throws her head back in laughter and I take this as an opportunity to run my tongue along her collar bone. She gasps. I reach down to lift her before I slowly lower her over my cock. We both sigh as I enter her, a long exhalation with our lips barely touching. 

“Viggo Mortensen.”

“Isn’t he Danish?”

“Tomato, Tomahto.”

I smile at my wife and push my hips up, silently telling her that we don’t need to talk about Swedish people anymore. She grabs onto the car seat and levers herself up and down. I look at her in the eye, a goofy smile still plastered across my face.

But then I squint. Light. Bollocks, what’s that? Where’s that light coming from? Crap, that’s bright. Shit. I see the flash of a hi-vis jacket, a knock at the window and someone shaking their head.

Oh sodding fucking bollocking shit wank.