#day one of me psychoanalysing this man

[mydarlingdearestdead]

Aleksander Morozova rambling

Aleksander, as a child, saw and lived in a vastly prejudiced society toward his kind, which unsurprisingly had a large effect on his choices as an adult. Grisha were, and still are in the timeline, hunted for sport by otkazat'sya (namely Fjerdans). Not to say they were a united front against this bias, take Annika's ruthlessness as an example of that. She was his friend, or perhaps posed as such, yet willing to carve out his bones for the sake of her own power. She was the one who died young in the end, Ulle's son as well, Aleksander thought to use the cut on himself and frame a otkazat'sya village nearby. This was likely the first act taken against him as an individual from other Grisha, nevermind children.The two were afraid, unmistakably so, and therefore thought it justified to sacrifice, as I'm sure they would've considered it, another living being for either of their benefit.

The problem is, each of them, Aleksander especially, had the same experience. How does it feel when your parents bring into the world knowing they can't protect you from the dangers? Dangers posed from their own blood, mind you? Aleksander set out to create a sanctuary where no Grisha child would suffer like he once had. It was a noble vision, but a poisoned seed, as they say, grows to a poisoned plant. Those with power consistently crave one thing: More power. Aleksander Morozova is simply another victim of this pattern in literature.

The Darkling mantle, and those which came before it (e.g Black Heretic) are dehumanising, to say the least. The Grisha soldiers under his command aren't meant to see him as human in any case, to them he appears as an untouchable figure. I suppose that's important; when a god tells you to do something you rarely doubt his word.

Aleksander was fighting a war. Not the war those under him fought meekly with guns, though that literal war accumulated many losses and sacrifices as any does. His struggle was for power, as you'd expect and though it landed him in the throne eventually that's not the prime aspect. As I said before, the thing with powerful men is that they're ravenous, dangerously persistent in their hunt for more power. A single life lost is not a tragedy. No matter who the victim is, noble or poor, young or old. A single life lost in favour of a greater picture, is a sacrifice, a martyr. Alina says it herself, so many saints are martyrs.

I’m not saying Aleksander is a saint, despite The Starless Saint being a wonderfully poetic name. I’m merely suggesting he set out on a road to become one. I mentioned that a poisoned seed always grows into a poisoned plant because that’s nature. That’s the way things occur, nothing to fault or blame. I believe his idea was a poisoned seed, of sorts. The unfortunate truth is the most exquisite plants often turn out to be toxic.

His vision to create an oasis for Grisha was pure, but does that excuse the unavoidable bloodshed to afford it? Is there a meaning behind those losses? It was war after all. War ruins lives, that is no secret. Aleksander brought peace, and The Little Palace was, in some form, a direct result of that peace. The Little Palace and the second army were established, a sanctuary for Grisha and an Army for the king. A fair trade?

Is this trading lives like crops? Ten otkazat'sya for one Grisha?

Aleksander’s new system still had a hierarchy, despite it almost being flipped from the previous version and more complex. Before otkazat'sya were considered top of the food chain, and Grisha, orderless, below them. In that time, if Grisha had any use it was as weapons, which didn’t expressly change once the Shadows came into rule. Once Aleksander got his way, Grisha stood above those who had once tortured them. Still, even within them there was yet another hierarchy.

While all Grisha Aleksander considered to be below him except for the Sun Summoner, he had his favourites in Corporalki- Healers, Heartrenders, later Tailors-, preferring his guard to be made up of many Grisha within that order. Etherealki, which Shadow Summoners are also considered to belong to, remain as prominent figures in many battles as well. Materialki- Durasts and Alkemi-, while powerful, were not considered fighters during Aleksander's reign. They were not given physical training until Alina took control, which was an intelligent move on her part especially since we know what kind of accuracy Durast sharpshooters can achieve. A mistake on Aleksander’s part.

In conclusion, Aleksander did what he thought necessary. To him, every loss is a sacrifice, willing or not. Still, it’s the rule of man. Some people are always going to want to feel better than others. As Genya said, be careful of powerful men. The choice to have every otkazat'sya tested for Grisha power was to find The Sun Summoner and to build numbers in the first army. The problem is that many of these children, who were being brought to a supposed sanctuary, weren’t in need of one. In fact, by definition, a sanctuary isn’t a sanctuary if you aren’t in need of one.

One thing didn’t change from Aleksander’s childhood: Otkazat'sya feared Grisha. What did change is how they reacted to that fear. The reaction was an instinctive move to destroy what wasn’t known. Once Grisha were known to the public in Ravka, the fear may have grown, yes, but the willingness to do something about it shrank. These people who live their lives quietly in a town aren’t going to suddenly pick up a knife and throw it at someone meant to protect them. Even if they don’t believe that protection is necessary or possible.

#jm sorry it's sounds like I'm for this guy #im not #i just understand it #day one of me psychoanalysing this man #i spelt that wrong #oh well. #the Darkling #alexander morozova #shadow and bone #leigh bardugo #alina starkov #anti darkling #anti darklina #ruin and rising #siege and storm #nikolai lantsov #mal oretsev #shadow and bone trilogy #reminder: this is my take #opinions and all that #if you disagree don't be an asshole about it

[damianbugs]

thoughts on bruce x jack drake?

hello anon apologies for the late reply but when i first received this ask i immediately assumed there was a leak in mine and @plutoslvr messages because we were literally talking about it about two seconds beforehand. i could barely sleep that night.

my thoughts are that old man yaoi is so enjoyable when it's just slightly ridiculous and entirely impossible. there are three ideal sections of the brujack ship (enjoyed by population NO ONE, apparently, but with our combined efforts i imagine we can spark this flame):

rivals to lovers

bruce wayne vs wanting to bone people who want him dead

doomed by the narrative

1. rivals to lovers.

bruce and jack competing in the worlds most intense "who is the best average-leaning-towards-okay dad" battle. trying to outperform in casual "okay dad" actions to win "okay dad" points from tim, something that is totally normal and entirely possible (jack is always in the lead and bruce has not yet realised that he will never overtake him).

this one is so fucking funny to me. silly events such as them fighting on who gets to take tim to his school events, comprising on taking turns (for tim's sake, not because they want to) or attending them together (the pta now think bruce wayne and jack drake are in a relationship). jacks like im taking tim to the skate park and bruce is like well i told tim i'd take him to lunch — now it's bruce and jack taking their kid to the park then lunch together and the paparazzi have no idea how to headline this.

i imagine eventually tim can't handle this truly bizarre tension filled dynamic anymore so he cancels last minute and bruce and jack are like, well, we've already booked a table at this super expensive restaurant AND that cool movie afterwards, so we might as well make use of them.

at some point the "i HAVE to one up the other guy to impress my son" becomes "i HAVE to one up the other guy to impress our son AND so he realises how i'm obviously a catch"

i imagine eventually when they form some sort of established relationship ("do not call me your damn boyfriend, bruce, are we fifteen?") the rivalry doesn't really stop, but it's far more fond and well, tim's just glad he doesn't need to set aside two days a week to make sure he spends time with each of them.

2. bruce wayne vs wanting to bone people who want him dead

now we all know bruce's ideal type is someone who is either a) actively a danger to his life or b) was at some point more inclined to being a danger in his life or a secret third thing that is c) would become a danger to his life if pushed slightly in that direction. we've no time to psychoanalyse this but it's hardly a point that needs to be explained after taking a look at his long list of exes.

now, after this, is it truly out of the realm of possibility that after jack drake finds out that bruce wayne is the fucking batman and is to partly blame for tim's dangerous life choices he stomps over to the man's house and threatens to SHOOT HIM, that bruce wants him carnally. my exact words when reading this scene was "rather reservedly, i imagine this level of foolish and almost stupid bravery impressed bruce, regardless if it it was for entirely unselfish reasons on jack's part or if it was genuinely out of care for tim" i then say "i also think this would have moved bruce, emotionally, figuratively, poetically, sexually WOAH"

we all know that canonically when bruce falls in love or becomes even slightly interested in someone, he goes STUPID and impulsive. he's sending jack rare artefacts and really specific gifts and throwing galas with the sole purpose of inviting jack all without even considering that is actually not a normal response to have after someone threatens to kill you. perhaps he doesn't even realise this is something more than just paranoid obsession, and he tries to rationalise it like "i'm only trying to convince him to come with me to the museum so i can work out what kind of person he is in casual date settings and also to kiss him WAIT"

this one is funny if jack is just not interested at all and he's like okay what the fuck what kind of mind games is this guy trying to pull. tim is your mentor trying to tell me something through the purchase of these front seat opera house tickets and tim is like i can't believe this is real life i hope this is all a nightmare this can't be happening to me. bruce is hopelessly infatuated and jack is like don't think i won't file a restraining order against you BATMAN.

or it can get funnier if jack is like I WONT FALL FOR YOUR SEDUCTION TECHNIQUES BATMAN (proceeds to fall for batman's seduction techniques).

bonus alfred is actively praying on jacks downfall (canon) and is experiencing war flashbacks when bruce begins to display lovesick behaviour

3. doomed by the narrative

now as you may have noticed most of these work before the bright red alarm that is JACK DRAKE'S TRAGIC DEATH. his death in and of itself is already so sad, because he was changing, he was better and tim was so close to having everything he wanted, and jack was truly hopeful to be present and good to his son.

if we now throw in the mix of this shortlived romance, wherein canon bruce is already swamped with guilt about janet's death and feels as though he OWES it to tim to save jack as well, it becomes all the more heartbreaking. i would actually change nothing about how it happened in canon. jack still leaves that phone call for tim, tim and bruce still race to get to him, tim still finds his father's dead body and bruce still holds tim away from the corpse.

because the best part about this potential relationship is that it is born from the shared want to look after tim. it's what connects them and what causes any sort of interaction between them. so even at this point, bruce's first priority is tim, because it will always be tim first, but also because that is what jack would have wanted from him.

just another love for bruce to hide in his heart, let it consume and damage him, let it make him colder and harder to approach, another layer on this already unbreakable foundation. it probably causes problems between tim and bruce, for the sake of mourning but not reacting and simply because loss can make people very unkind. bruce's guilt is now more than just what he already feels for somehow failing tim, but also for not being able to save someone he loves, again.

OR jack lives au and bruce is even MORE obsessed and insufferable about it and tim literally has to help his own dad break out of the manor because batman is holding jack hostage (bedrest for almost dying).

or we have our obligatory bruce wayne "I almost lost you, so now im going to push you away for both our sake" arc to which Jack drake probably threatens to shoot bruce again and then they do it silly HAPPY ENDING EVERYONE GO HOME

#me vs making up romance that isn't there but could be but probably not but WHAT IF #i didnt even mention the what if jack moved into the manor to recover post coma #or what if jack and bruce were together during no mans land #or short college romance jack and bruce #IM NORMAL #this is zafs fault tbh #bruce wayne #jack drake #tim drake

[i-cant-sing]

I am very, very sad right now :( so I will use this time to make another OC that will comfort me <3

Meet Theodore. He's an undercover agent/assassin who is deaf. He's been working at his own cafe that he'd inherited from his grandpa, as a cover story. To maintain his low profile, he rarely works at the front of the shop, preferring to stay in the kitchen and let someone else handle the customers. Because there are still some assholes that like to make fun of his disability, and he only doesn't have the time to kill so many people from the same town and clean up as well.

You've recently moved into his city. Theodore always keeps tabs on everyone, so the moment you'd stepped into his cafe, his agency had already sent him a complete background on you. You were a normal person, nothing really stood out about you.

The barista had gotten sick that day and went home, so Theodore had to work in his place instead. You'd just ordered your coffee and busied yourself with your phone. He was trying very hard to read you, and while nothing really stood out about you, his guy told him you were not as normal as you seemed.

Something was up with you, and he was determined to find out.

While he was psychoanalysing you, some jerks had decided to interfere and mess with him instead. They were calling him derogatory names and making fun of him in general, not knowing that Theodore could very well read lips and he was very close to throwing the hot pot of coffee on them.

But before it could come to that, you told them to stfu and knock it off. Obviously, these guys didn't take it well and walked over to you and asked if you'd got a crush on the retar-

Before they could finish talking, you punched one guy in the face, and when his friend tried to grab you, you threw your hot coffee on his face, some of it spilling and burning your own hand too. The guy you'd punched earlier took your momentary distraction and threw a chair at you, but it never hit you. Because Theodore had grabbed it with one hand.

And then... he launched the chair back at the man.

The furniture sent him flying down with a deep gash to his forehead. Theodore stalked towards the other guy and punched him in the face, breaking his nose. The guy was howling in pain, but Theodore didn't give him time to recover as he yanked the man up by his collar and gave him the deadliest glare ever before nodding his head towards the exit.

That was enough for the man to understand what Theodore meant and he didn't waste another second before dragging his unconscious friend out of the cafe.

Theodore turned his attention back to you, finding you holding your bruised knuckles. He went to the back and brought you some ice in a towel, gently taking your injured hand in his and icing down the swelling. You both didn't say anything for a while, at least not until you'd pulled your hand away and said thanks.

He just gave a nod.

"So... you read lips?" You asked. Theodore nodded. "Hm, figured as much. Well, thank you for the ice. Here- let me help you with this." You said as you helped clean up the coffee you'd spilled. "Yes, sorry about this. I- I'll take my leave-" but he stopped you when you tried to pay for the coffee. He pulled out his phone and typed into it.

No need. On the house, for standing up for me.

You smiled. "No biggie. I'm Y/n." He typed into his phone.

Theodore. Its nice meeting you.

"Theodore. I like it." You nodded. He began typing again.

Haven't seen you around here before. Passing by or staying?

"Staying. For a while. I haven't decided how long, I'll have to see if I like it here."

He nodded. Well, if its any consolation, those 2 jerks aren't representative of most people here. Besides, I think the town could use some people like you.

You giggled. "Well, if you continue making good coffee, I just might stay here permanently."

-

From there on, Theodore began keeping tabs on you, initially under the guise of being wary of you, but then when he found out that you were his new neighbour, your apartment right next to his, the universe practically was begging him to stalk you.

I mean, he wouldn't have really bothered with it after he confirmed you had a clean background, but it just- he couldn't get the way you stood up for him (a complete stranger) against two men who were twice your size, out of his mind.

And maybe he could've overlooked it if it was only a one time thing. But it wasn't quite one time thing.

Theodore has observed that you have a... bleeding heart of sorts. You stand up for anyone and everyone that comes in your sight. Someone's bullying a kid? You get those bullies to apologise. Someone's giving the homeless guy a hard time? You butt in, with a feral fighting stance against some asshat who could break you like a twig.

But your "good samaritan" behavior tends to backfire a lot, leading you to sometimes having small bruises to a fractured bone or two. Which then leads to Theodore worrying himself sick over you, and he tries to jump in as often as he could without raising the suspicion that he's stalking you. You'd lead him back to your apartment (too trusting) and offer him dinner or something while he insisted on bandaging you up. One of these days.... one of these days someone is gonna pull a knife or a gun on you and he won't be able to save you. The mere thought worries him, and he tries to convince you to not help everyone you see, especially at night. You just laugh it off, telling him that "I'm not a klutz, Theodore. How stupid do you think I am?" before grabbing the hot handle of the pan and burning your hand.

Theodore stays up night wondering if you're in bed or ran out to the street in your bunny slippers because you heard someone cry. He wonders if you'd even locked your door.

He could... he could always check, right? He's just a concerned neighbour-

Theodore was now standing outside your room. As it turned out, you did lock your apartment door, but then Theodore got worried if you'd left the gas stove on, or if you were even breathing. So he broke in, as quietly as he could, just to check up on you. And then he couldn't stop staring at you.

He left eventually, realising how creepy it would look if you saw him, but not before putting some a few cameras around the house (how you didn't hear him is beyond him).

Now, he can keep an eye on you even when you're not at his cafe💖

However, something about you still bugged him. Like you were off somehow, perhaps hiding something.

So he decides to date you. But not because he loves you or anything. No, no. This was only to get close to you, only to spy on you... right?

Now he's dating you. You were reluctant at first, but once he was able to charm you (mostly by making you pity him when he told you he's ne er felt like this before for anyone because he never thought anyone would date him because of his disability. Which is complete crap because he had a lot of people falling for him, but Theodore pushed them all away because he hated them).

Dating you allows him to be near you. He can swing by your apartment a lot more often, and that gives him a chance to snoop through your stuff.

While Theodore is looking around, you're doing all the lovey dovey stuff and since he's never been in a relationship, he's falling hard for all of it.

Cuddles? He loves them, never knew how much it made his heart swell when he wrapped his big arms around your small frame.

Kisses? He's kissed a few people on the lips for missions, but omg how cute are your kisses on his nose and cheeks. He's melting inside.

His favourite thing to do with you is reading. You're just snuggled up to him as he holds a book, and you're both reading it. Usually, he reads up on world history and psychology, but with you, he's reading all types of genres. And you look so cute when you'd dose off.

But perhaps the nail in the coffin was when you learned sign language. For him. You did that for him. How- what- WHO DOES THAT???

And now, he's completely and utterly in love with you.

And once he's able to admit that to himself, things are likely to go downhill for you.

His protectiveness increases by 10 folds. Which means more trackers and bugs on you, more of him accompanying you wherever, more lectures about how it's not always a good idea to leave the house to help complete strangers. He has literally climbed on top of you to prevent you from leaving your bed in the middle of the night (only moving away when you insisted that someone might need help, and even then he'd push you back into bed and go check out the noise himself)

Theodore never liked possessive s/o. He always thought that was a very toxic trait and a huge red flag to have.

It's funny how blind he is to his own possessiveness. He hates it when other people interact with you, when others have your attention. You waved it off as "cute" when Theodore would hold onto your hand or tried to block your door when you wanted to meet some friends. You just kissed his nose and ruffled his hair (and he just melted into your touch), telling him you'd be back soon. It's just that Theodore has never had someone so nice to him, so selfless and caring. He just has you now, and he doesn't ever want to let go of you.

I don't know why, but I think of Theodore as this big cuddly bear that sometimes huffs when he doesn't have your attention. Like he just stares longingly at you through the cameras wondering if you're just pretending to have a good time to mask how sad you actually because you miss him terribly.

He absolutely loves it when you drop by for surprise visits. Like Theodore would be busy on his laptop, typing absentmindedly because his mind is actually preoccupied by you, and then boop! You surprise him with a kiss on his pouty lips. His dumbfounded reaction is always so worth it.

What's not worth it is him tackling you into a hug as if he hadn't seen in centuries, which is followed by Theodore pulling you into his lap and making you wrap your arms around him as he hooks your head under his chin because as terribly as he had missed you, he still has work to do. And even though he doesnt allow you to move until hes finished with work, he's warm and fuzzy and he gives you headpats (and some pats on the bum).

Sometimes when he's sleeping next to you (with a leg and an arm draped over you to make sure you don't escape into the night), he wonders how important you've become to him. How much control you have over his heart. He would catch sharp knives with his bare hands for you (you should ask him to do that. He's very good at it). And it scares him a little how he's sure he would lose his mind if something were to happen to you.

He pulls your asleep body closer to him, silently pressing a kiss to your ear.

I love you so much.

[elizabethrobertajones]

[the TARDIS arrives at Gatwick airport in 1966 where Polly witnesses a murder]

The murder is going to be your other travelling companion who is a scot from the 1700s??? You can't just take him to present day Glasgow airport???????????

...

I'm really enjoying the 2nd doctor but largely in comparison to how the creep of time is introducing more and more recognisable TV drama standards and easing my 21st century brain into things in a more familiar way.

There was also a real churn of companions after the first squad departed so I didn't really check in with the end of the seasons with posts because they're not lining up their appearances and disappearances with ends and beginnings of seasons, so the binge watch doesn't have good start and end markers and makes it really easy to forget that that would have been a good place to make a post with an update.

While I can see from like the grand scope of history psychoanalysing the Doctor he let his granddaughter go and then sequentially collected 2 more girls of similar age to fuss over with the exact same language and affection and then they inevitably also moved on because they were randos and not his actual beloved family he could keep forever, so he accidentally just compounded that trauma, it also was kind of a whirl when you have to also skip chunks of missing episodes here and there, drastically shortening the time the audience gets with them. So he kinda burned through 2 replacement granddaughters in a week and then regenerated of old age.

I had really high hopes for the first adult replacement companion, err... Steven? he missed a ton of episodes including the whole set after his intro, and also his parting episodes. (The trend of the BBC saying all the costumes sounded like a hassle to recreate as to why there's no animation really lines up with what sounds like real problematic concepts for modern audiences so I think these episodes may just kinda. Accidentally stay lost. Oops, says the BBC.) Anyway this guy seemed really interesting from his intro then was just a shouty man who was probably rather fumbled in execution, or else only interesting in the missing content.

The 2nd doctor is someone who I know only from pop culture as a face who comes in slide shows of all the doctors, and literally nothing else. Looking at the lost episodes list and how the animated recreations are very recent, I can see how he was probably only known very well to people who really put an effort in to read or listen to deep nerdy fan Doctor Who stuff, and the whole show being on iplayer is such a new development I feel like it's the first chance for average half-invested people to only just meet him. And almost entirely as an animated character.

He inherited the adult companions from the last doctor - Polly and Ben - who are really good characters both of them. Or at least, Polly was from her intro episode and shows flashes of brilliance when not just being used as the screaming damsel (alas). She had great chemistry with the previous companion Dodo (who was a bit older seeming than the other "child" designated girls and liked fashion and clubbing so represented the granddaughter parade growing older and away from the Doctor I guess and just chose to stay in modern London off screen). Since Dodo never even came back to say goodbye, I was very disappointed she and Polly didn't get more than one episode to hang out.

Ben is an absolute treasure though, I'd recommend watching just for him because he's the most normal lad guy with a force of personality, and he's charmed me by basically just existing as a bloke who is a stalwart stand up guy being put in Situations. Missing a few episodes with him so I have no idea if we learn WHY he was in deep depression on introduction (the same episode that set up Polly) or if he was cured by having a sense of purpose travelling with the Doctor. It could also be once again the intro episode gives us chewy characters but then doesn't bother chewing them once we have them vs how all the modern companions are basically leading the show with their emotional plots. The episodes are very oriented still towards action and if the characters have challenging moments they are of course very repressed and British about dealing with it.

By season 4 when we have the second doctor he shows up acting all kooky and it's hard to tell at first if he's just like that because he regenerated and doesn't know who he is, but I'm far enough along now that while he's stabilised he's definitely trying too hard and has the same vibes as Matt Smith trying to follow Tennant did.

In this case, he literally seems not to have changed his clothes since the regeneration and I think it's been a whole season or two since he changed, and he's still wearing the First Doctor's suit hanging off him all too-large shirt and jacket, and the belt knotted at the front to keep his trousers up. It's very symbolic and knowing that he just tried to replace a beloved character but also watching it, he's really just playing along the tropes of what the Doctor is supposed to do and not contributing more than like, funny little quirks to the original formula, rather than being a whole different guy and it's just suffering the inevitable drag that happens when you do that and don't go hard in another lane.

In this case the only real change that's setting the action is that they're not having him be grandfatherly and don't have a companion he treats like a granddaughter, and are allowing the adult companions to help set a tone, so it's good the 3 of them have strong personalities (Polly's trap in the misogyny of the era aside) and are taking part in a lot of action because they can fill out a lot of the space around the Doctor and help actually give some personality to what's happening, since the 2nd Doctor is giving plot required meddling and nonsense but his personality is just not filling up the space like the 1st did. Far more mad scientist but without the forcefulness that I didn't even like from the 1st Doctor but at least was a real unarguable powerhouse performance.

Anyway all the episodes are missing where the Doctor heads off to 18th century Scotland and just collects a random guy there, so you jump right to him taking this lad to Sci Fi Scenarios and he's there in a kilt and freaking out about everything because he's got no reference. I was talking to my mum about all this and we agreed if you did the same to a 1940/50s guy he'd be almost as mentally unprepared but as soon as you hit the 60s and have people who've even heard of a space race you get companions who are ready to conceptualise things in a different way and don't feel as historical. The Modern Era Doctors could grab a 1960s companion if they felt like it and they wouldn't feel as out of place in terms of being able to understand casually what is happening around them at all times, is what I mean.

Interesting framework for like, a meta explanation for why the Doctor's travels suddenly kick into gear when he hits the 60s and starts sort of, having picked up companions from there and needing to go back there to drop them off and pick up new kids in the same week, begins to anchor to our modern time progression. Just because he hits the start of humans having a brain for space travel and thinking of modern sci fi concepts and understand the basic principles of science we still use as a baseline today, and he begins at the very start of when people were ready for that and in that very loop de loop way ends up following along the progress as he takes companions from further and further down this timeline in a semi-chronological order.

Although the modern ones all being FIRMLY from our present day does make it very funny that we've had a girl from the future as the 2nd granddaughter, and now a lad from the far enough past to make it REALLY weird in this early run when there didn't seem to be such strict rules on where people could come from to be an Official Companion.

Absolute "this would kill a medieval peasant" behaviour.

In a chunk of very lost episodes in the 1st doctor's run wikipedia described him taking a girl from Troy and accidentally getting her killed by space aliens in the far future. (I've also noticed he does a lot of killing thousands of people or carelessly exploding companions in the missing episodes... Talk about BBC propaganda XD)

I think after watching several episodes with Jamie the 1700s Scottish piper as a companion, he may be one of my favourites though, just because he's been in a long run of future episodes with lots of aliens and nonsense. Guy's fought Daleks and Cybermen and weird crab aliens and he's doing ALRIGHT for someone in his situation. Gold star for culture shock recovery.

I guess I will watch what happens to him when he sees an airplane for the first time now.

#doctor who

[rhaenella]

You & Me - Rhys Montrose x Reader - Part 15

Part 14 | Part 16

Summary: What happens when reader assassin is tasked with killing the possible future mayor of London; Rhys Montrose. Politician by day, Eat the Rich Killer by night. But he isn’t the only person wearing different masks. 

Rating: Explicit

Warnings: Violence, murder, immoral sociopathic behaviour, mentions of alcoholism, drug abuse and neglect, smut

Word count: 6.1k

A/N: I’m usually not a fan of spoiling my own work for readers, but I would like to quietly point out that from now on ALL warnings apply to the story. Happy reading ;)

Song: In the Air Tonight – Natalie Taylor

The air was thick around you. Professor Jonathan Moore quietly sat before you with an unreadable expression. You ferociously fought the urge to be the first to break the silence. You were familiar with all of the common tactics to get a person to talk and say perhaps more than they would’ve liked to share. So, you waited. Noting the soft ticking sounds of the antique carriage clock in the corner of the room. 

“Zoe,” Jonathan nodded. “She’s a very talented, young writer. I believe she’s got great potential.”

You took a moment to answer, eyes raking over the planes of his face. Jonathan had set the pace, opting to dance around it a little longer. Fine, you would dance with him. Let’s see how well he could manage before he gave away his true motives. 

“She is,” you agreed. “Although, I must admit she won’t let me read a lot of it. I think she’s a perfectionist in that way. Wanting to get it right before showing her work to anyone.”

Jonathan hummed contemplatively, stroking his beard. “And is that something you share? Being a perfectionist?”

Was he blatantly psychoanalysing you now? The hubris. 

“Oh, I’m not sure,” you chuckled. “That’s probably for my shrink to decide.”

“You seem to share your sister’s intelligence, at the very least.”

To the outside observer that would be a sweet, innocent compliment. Maybe even lingering on flirtation. But you regarded Jonathan with a similar unreadable expression as he shot you a small smile meant to disarm you. If he was under the impression that you would let your guard down around him, he’d have another thought coming. 

“Why, thank you,” you smiled. “But, one wonders, did you have anything specific you wanted to discuss about Zoe? Besides her academic progress, which as you mentioned is exceptional, all things considered,” you said, steering the conversation away from yourself.

Jonathan blinked. “Yeah, yes. I was simply wondering how she’s recovering. I’m not exactly worried about her being behind. I know she’s more than capable of keeping up.”

The fact that this killer had been able to keep such a keen eye on your sister enraged you. There was no way you could keep your sister safely locked away in a cage somewhere, you knew that. But when dangerous men were lurking around her like this, you were almost tempted to. Yet, Zoe’s happiness was the most important thing to you. And you would never in a million years do that to her. Or anyone, really. It was unnecessarily cruel. 

A little torture, a little bit of fun before ending your victims’ lives. Sure. But nothing long-term. Which is why the man sitting in front of you gave you goosebumps. Rhys had told you a fair share of what Jonathan had been up to in his previous life as Joe. And it wasn’t pretty, to say the least.

“I can honestly tell you, she’s doing remarkably well,” you answered with a genuine smile this time. “She was in the hospital for a couple of days before being released. I’ve mainly been taking care of her and her sister since then.”

“That is wonderful to hear,” Jonathan returned your smile. 

He was quiet again, gathering his thoughts. Or, he really just wasn’t much of a talker.

“Do you think she’ll be able to come back to class soon?”

“I think so, we’ve been gathering quite the collection of books that she needs to catch up on.”

“I’m sure Zoe will get through them in no time. It will be good for her to return back to normal,” Jonathan pointed out.

“Yes, definitely,” you agreed. Again, suppressing a massive surge of discomfort at his cordial words.

It felt like a natural conclusion to your conversation so you decided to stand up, Jonathan following your lead. Really, you just wanted to get out of here. The psycho gave you the creeps. 

You draped the strap of your purse over your shoulder, turning your back on Jonathan to let out an inaudible sigh as you quietly made your way to the door.

“Oh, one final thing,” Jonathan called.

You halted, schooling your expression once more before turning around to face him with a questioning frown. “Yes?”

You noticed an indiscernible look pass over him, his posture more rigid now than before. It gave you all the forewarning you needed for Jonathan’s parting blow. The main reason he asked to speak to you in private.

“Do you know Rhys Montrose by any chance?”

“I do,” you instantly replied, sincerely and light. You were certain Jonathan had seen you with Rhys, so the best option was to pretend to be the innocent woman here. 

And you were right, Jonathan didn’t look surprised at all, indeed already aware that you two were acquainted. Fucking tabloids. You briefly contemplated silently killing off their editors. You internally scoffed. Was that Rhys’ influence talking to you? Or was that just you, finally allowing yourself to take matters into your own hands. You shook off the thought for now.

“Are you a fan of his book?” You quipped, deciding that taking the lead in this conversation was the best course of action. 

Jonathan inclined his head, stepping around his desk. “Yes. His memoir was… Well, honestly, one of the best ones I’ve ever read,” he admitted, slightly scornful.

You let a small, amused smirk tug at your lips.

“You know, being a literature professor, that’s high praise. I’ll be sure to let him know,” you jabbed, trying to get a reaction out of him. 

It worked. Jonathan’s eyebrows shooting up as he quickly clenched and unclenched his fists.

“You’re friends, then?”

“We are.”

Silence.

“And you know him well?”

“I suppose I do, yes.”

You opted to answer his short questions with short, truthful answers. You didn’t want to disclose too much information but also didn’t want to seem uncharacteristically closed off. Though, Jonathan was American. Perhaps that would be his take on British culture in general. Nevertheless, you were definitely not telling him about how you and your sisters had been staying with Rhys.

“I see.”

You canted your head. “Why do you seem so interested in him?” You asked innocently, a curious lilt to your voice.

Another beat of deafening silence.

“No reason,” he cleared his throat. “Like you said, fan of his work.”

“Right. You can join the club with the rest of us,” you laughed kindly.

The defeat in Jonathan’s voice had given you the impression that he believed your pretence. More specifically, believed that you thought you knew Rhys, but had in fact not a clue as to his true nature. Which was what you needed. Zoe and Sadie would be safe as long as Jonathan didn’t know you were in on it.

“Well, if that’s all, I’ll be on my way. Zoe may be feeling much better but she still needs to take it easy.”

“Of course, of course,” Jonathan said, absentmindedly. He strode past you to chivalrously open his office door for you. You thanked him as you said your goodbyes, happily walking out of the stifling room.

You shot him one last glance over your shoulder before he closed the door behind you. His shoulders were sagged and a persistent scowl was carving its way onto his face. It confirmed your hunch that you had indeed successfully passed his test. For now.

––

The sky was ablaze with the fire of the setting sun by the time you and Zoe made it to your sisters’ new flat. 

You had prepared a light dinner, a chicken salad. You’d all dug in, and of course you still helped Sadie with cutting up her food. She complained she felt like an absolute baby and Zoe had snickered, saying she was. 

You’d laughed with them, but your mind was somewhere else. You were still going over the conversation you had had with Jonathan, analysing every tiny detail. Trying to imagine how the conversation could’ve progressed if you’d said the one thing instead of the other.

Your sisters even called you out on it, and you had to admit it was kind of ridiculous. You should go with your gut and trust that your instincts were correct. Jonathan was none the wiser. 

After dinner, when your sisters had gone off to their rooms to do god knows what, you’d sat down on the couch, gazing out into the evening sky. It had been such a beautiful day with clear skies that you could make out a couple of stars. You were quite sure it was Venus staring straight back at you. 

This was how you used to cope with your problems. Otherwise sitting on your windowsill, looking up at the stars to try to find the hidden answers to your struggles between them. You sighed, shaking your head. You no longer had to keep all your thoughts bottled up inside of you. There was someone in your life now who was willing to listen. It was still new to you, but you felt a persistent need to tell Rhys. And if you were brutally honest with yourself — you missed him. So, you reached for your phone.

<<< Are you home?

His reply was almost instant.

>>> I am.

<<< Can I come over? There’s something I need to talk to you about

>>> Of course. I’m just finishing up in my office upstairs.

Ah, yes. Tomorrow was the big day. Finally, Rhys Montrose would officially announce his mayoral candidacy. 

<<< Okay, I’m on my way

And with that, you stood up. You knocked on both of your sisters’ doors, opening Sadie’s first. You told her you’d be going out, not knowing what time you’d be back.

“Where are you going?” Sadie asked, taking off her headphones.

“To see Rhys,” you replied apprehensively.

“Oh, then I know full well when you’ll be back,” Zoe shouted from behind her closed door before opening it with a swing. 

She stood in the opening, regarding you with a knowing smirk. “Early morning hours. Perhaps she’ll even stay for breakfast.”

The way she spoke the word ‘breakfast’ insinuated all kinds of things except for a regular cup of tea and some cereal. 

“Okay,” you cut in abruptly. “I’m leaving. Bye, now.”

The echoing laughter of your sisters stayed with you as you descended the stairs and walked off into the night. You hadn’t thought of putting on a jacket, the air still warm enough. 

You took the tube to Primrose Hill, walking the short distance from the station to Rhys’ home. The lights downstairs were out, which told you Rhys was likely still upstairs working. You took out the spare key he had given you and opened the door, slipping into the darkness. Faint music came from up the stairs, so you followed it all the way up to his home office. The door was partially opened and you peeked through. Rhys was sitting behind his desk, typing away on his laptop, probably working on his speech for tomorrow.

You pushed the door open, the ensuing creaking noise announcing your presence. Rhys looked up from his work, the creases in his forehead disappearing when you fully entered the room. The makeshift bed on which you’d slept when you stayed here had already been stashed. Any remnant of you using this space as your bedroom was gone. 

“To what do I owe the pleasure?” Rhys asked, turning off the soft rock music he’d been listening to. He stood up with a sigh, stretching out his back as he walked around his desk to meet you. 

Rhys sweetly kissed your cheek, and you faintly smiled at his gesture. He stepped back, looking at you expectantly. But before you were able to utter a single word, Rhys’ face already hardened. Apparently, he could read the worry on your face as clearly as day.

“What is it?” 

You sighed, looking over his shoulder for a moment before refocusing your attention to him. “I met Jonathan earlier today.”

Rhys was silent, a little surprised at that.

“I went to Darcy College with Zoe to pick up some of her books and we sort of ran into him. He asked if we could speak in private, and I agreed,” you began. 

You recounted what happened nearly word for word, noticing Rhys’ frown deepening and his jaw clench bitterly. His anger was slowly but surely boiling away underneath the surface with every new piece of information you presented to him.

“I don’t think he suspects me. So, we’re good for now,” you concluded.

Rhys huffed. “We’re not good, Y/N. He clearly doesn’t bloody understand what it means to back the fuck off.”

“Like I said, he doesn’t know who I am. How could he, in all actuality, know that I’m ‘off limits’?” You shot back, trying to temper his growing anger.

“That doesn’t fucking matter. He recognised you. Has seen you with me. Figured you could possibly be important to me. And then had the nerve to approach and interrogate you,” Rhys seethed.

You chewed your lip. You had nothing to say to that. Rhys was pissed off, there was no doubt about it. And, to be fair, he did make a good point that wasn’t completely unfounded. 

“You know what? I think someone needs to show him what the consequences are of daring to come near you,” he grumbled. 

Rhys turned to march back to his desk, closing his laptop with force before walking back in your direction.

“What are you gonna do?”

He didn’t answer. 

“Rhys,” you warned. 

He still proceeded to ignore you, walking past you, out into the hallway. You groaned in annoyance, following after him and firmly grabbing his wrist to pull him back to face you. 

He looked down at you with a blank stare, his eyes cold and dark. You quickly recanted your earlier observation. He wasn’t just angry. No, he was fucking livid. A part of you reeled at the sheer projection of dominance and will to protect you, no matter the cost. But this was going to end in a disaster if you didn’t intervene right this second.

“Rhys, listen to me,” you spoke softly, your other hand landing on his tense shoulder. “Didn’t you hear what I just said? He doesn’t know. Let’s keep it that way, yeah?”

“He won’t know a goddamn thing ever again when I cut off his balls and put them right down his gullet,” he said icily, the vein in his neck pulsing menacingly.

“Bloody hell, Rhys. You were the one who convinced me Jonathan would be the perfect pawn in our larger plan,” you accused, starting to lose your own temper. 

“Yes. Until he wouldn’t. Until he would start running his mouth, or in this case threaten you.”

“He didn’t threaten—,” you paused mid-sentence, exasperated with him. His rage was obviously running away with him. 

You let go of Rhys, crossing your arms in defiance. “What about our last warning? Huh, what about that? You can apprise him of the bribe money and the off-shore account being set up in his name. That will make him back off.”

Rhys’ eyes flickered. Somewhere, beneath all the animosity, he knew you were right. He knew that the plan you’d come up with was still the best play. 

“He doesn’t deserve to live after—”

“No, he doesn’t. I’ve frankly never understood why you wanted him to live at all. But now he’s become an integral part to our plan. Or, our back-up plan, really. Nevertheless, we need to be sensible about this,” you implored.

His eyes shifted between yours and you only noticed then how close you were. You’d involuntarily moved into his space when you’d tried to persuade him of some rhyme or reason. But it also accomplished something else, the heat of the moment evidently heightening the slumbering sexual tension between you.

“Rhys,” you stressed, cupping his cheeks, willing him to listen. “You have to trust me. We do this together, remember?”

You felt his jaw slacken beneath your palms and he momentarily closed his eyes in defeat. You knew Rhys was begrudgingly coming to his senses, acknowledging that you were right. The mention of trust and together ultimately convincing Rhys to let the savage urge to skin Jonathan alive rest for now. 

“Okay?” You prompted.

Rhys nodded almost imperceptibly. At last, surrendering to agree with you. You’d successfully been able calm him down with your touch, just like he’d done to you many times before. The realisation made a warmth and fondness spread through you. 

It was then that Rhys seemed to clock how little space actually remained between you. He couldn’t help but longingly glance down at your lips. His anger slowly starting to become overshadowed by another powerful emotion, one which was filled with a deep yearning.

The elastic band of your stirring desires was about to snap, there was no denying it. Your pulse quickened and you brushed your thumb over his cheek to make him look up at you. You needed the verbal confirmation.

“You and me, right?”

The look Rhys gave you made an overwhelming wave of pure need for him crash through you. His eyes darkened once more. Not out of malice this time, but because of an aching want for you. 

“You and me,” he repeated, his own hands moving to cradle your face. 

You sighed softly, leaning into Rhys’ touch. You knew it then and there. You wanted him. All of him. There was nothing holding you back anymore. And frankly, you weren’t willing to let anyone or anything hold you back from getting what you wanted ever again. That time was over. 

You briefly closed your eyes and when you reopened them, you lustfully stared up at him. Rhys was powerless to resist you and without hesitating, he crashed his lips to yours.

Your entire focus zeroed in on him and you forgot about everything else — the outside world and all of its many issues and problems you faced, faded away. His soft lips moved entirely in-sync with yours in a heated tangle, devouring each other as if you’d been waiting for the other for a lifetime. And in a way, you felt like you had. 

The feeling of Rhys’ body rubbing against yours made you moan into the kiss. He groaned in response and started moving you backwards until your back hit the wall behind you. Rhys anchored you in place, deepening the kiss as his hands wandered down your body. You tangled your hands into his hair and tugged slightly, making him groan again. 

Rhys licked your lower lip and you parted your lips without objection, letting his tongue slide into your mouth to beautifully battle with yours. 

It was a possessive kind of kiss. Full of pent-up emotions and untamed desire, fuelled by whatever anger and fear Jonathan had been able to ignite within Rhys at the prospect of you being alone with that man. Even if he hadn’t hurt you. 

Rhys’ hips surged forward and you made a wanton noise at the feeling of his stirring erection pressed securely against your hip. Heat spiralled through you like a heavy, pulsing thing. You arched your back when you felt his hand slide underneath the hem of your dress and start exploring. Fuck, you couldn’t take this any longer, your patience severely lacking. 

“I think it’s time you showed me your bedroom,” you panted into his mouth.

“Mind reader.”

And before you knew it, you were stumbling into Rhys’ bedroom. You weren’t able to take in much of your surroundings, Rhys invading all of your senses. His hands were everywhere, mapping out your curves. 

Rhys bunched up the ends of your dress in his palms, roughly lifting the thin material over your head. You swore you heard the faintest rip of fabric but Rhys didn’t spare you another minute to think about it as his lips were already back on yours, claiming your full attention.

You vaguely registered him unclasping your bra with one hand. Rhys slipped the straps down your arms and tossed the undergarment to the side. His right hand cupped your breast, thumb brushing over your pebbled nipple. You canted your head to the side to give Rhys more access as his full lips descended onto your neck.

You moaned, your hands moving underneath his sweater to explore the chiselled lines of his body. You made a negative sound when Rhys leaned back, taking his delicious warmth with him. A hint of a smirk played on his lips as Rhys held your gaze, slowly dropping to his knees in front of you. The sight alone enough to make you groan.

The air around you was still buzzing with an insatiable want and hunger for the other, but everything seemingly slowed down then. It felt like the world had stopped turning for a moment. Rhys’ fingers delicately traced down your calves to your ankles, fidgeting with the clasp of your sandals. When he managed to unclasp them, he urged you to carefully step out of them and you did. 

Rhys paused, looking up at you with blown pupils. “Are you sure?” 

“I swear to god, if you stop now, I will kill you.”

Rhys grinned. “The big man surely knows you’re more than capable.”

You were about to sassily retort but you bit your tongue when you felt Rhys’ warm hands encircling your upper thighs, slowly trailing towards your hipbone. He hooked his fingers under your panties, pulling them down in one smooth motion.

You were standing in front of him, gloriously naked. Rhys sat back on his heels, savouring the moment as he looked up at you like you were a gift sent from heaven. You confidently gazed down at him as you moved your hand to cup his jaw, brushing your thumb over his lower lip. He obediently opened his mouth, sucking lightly on your thumb. You felt more of that delicious heat rush through you at the sight before you, getting wetter by the second. 

You were certainly losing your sanity and Rhys clocked it, smirking again as he released your finger. He moved forward to lick a wet trail from your stomach to your ribs, all the way between your breasts up to your neck as he straightened back up to his full height. Rhys caressed your cheek with his left hand, his right landing heavily on your waist to pull you even closer.

He pressed a chaste kiss to your lips. “Spread your legs for me, darling.”

And you gladly did as you were told, widening your stance a little. His right hand wandered from your waist, lower and lower towards the place you were aching to be touched. You looked desperately into his eyes, whimpering as you felt his fingers gently part your folds.

Rhys hummed approvingly at the slickness already present between your thighs, shooting you a pleased little smile. His exploratory fingers made you grab onto the back of his neck, forcing his mouth back on yours. Rhys kissed you languorously, his index finger slowly circling your entrance. You moaned into his mouth when his thumb brushed your sensitive clit. 

He took that as an invitation to move his tongue willingly against yours whilst easily sliding a single finger inside of you. Your lips parted on an exhale at the sensation. It’d been too bloody long. You also briefly contemplated if you’d ever been this turned on in your life before. Rhys understood and spoke to your deepest and darkest desires, and it seemed that the sexual ones wouldn’t be neglected. 

The tension between you had been building for the past couple of days. Well, if you were honest with yourself that tension had been there from the start. But it started to crescendo the moment you returned from killing Lockwood. It might be twisted and other people would likely never get it, but you both did. A silent understanding between the two of you. Your bond filling itself with a yearning and desire for the other that ultimately led you to be so fucking wet right now.

Rhys leaned back to watch you when he unapologetically added another finger. His intense gaze solely focused on you as he analysed your every reaction to figure out what you liked — what would ultimately make you see stars. Insistently repeating those touches and angles that made you want to jump two feet into the air if it wasn’t for Rhys’ strong arm wound tightly around your waist to keep you as close to him as possible. 

You gasped at the delightful pressure, eagerly moving your hips to meet the thrusts of his hand. You were already so close to the edge, it was almost humiliating. But you honestly couldn’t give a damn. Not when Rhys was hovering over you, looking at you like that, hand buried deep inside of you. His thumb had been lazily grazing your clit, slowly stoking the heat building within you.

Rhys pressed his cheek to yours. “Are you going to come for me like a good girl?” He rasped in your ear.

You moaned loudly into his neck when he didn’t wait for an answer, instead proceeding to circle your bundle of nerves in earnest. He gradually picked up the speed and you clawed at his back, his fingers pumping inside of you at an unrelenting pace. Apparently, Rhys knew exactly how to make your body sing, giving you what you so desperately needed. It made you shiver when you realised this was only his hand, already starting to anticipate what would come after. 

The combination of his warm breath on your skin, the sureness of his skilled fingers and the sultry tone of his voice as he kept whispering encouraging words into your ear, ultimately teetered you over the edge. 

“That’s it, Y/N. That’s it,” Rhys panted. Your pleasure nearly making him come undone himself.

You bit the juncture of where his neck met his shoulder to keep from crying out, clenching down on Rhys’ fingers that were steadily guiding you through your orgasm. Rhys groaned and he pressed his lips to your neck, leaving behind a wet trail of open-mouthed kisses. The pulsing waves of pleasure just went on and on, seeming like a never-ending bliss you wanted to drown in.

His fingers slowed when you at last started making slight protesting sounds. It was all too much. He was too much. Rhys had arguably just given you one of the best orgasms of your life. 

You felt a little hazy, grateful for his arm around you and him supporting most of your weight. It took you a moment to fully come back to your senses, Rhys using that time to place kisses along the side of your mouth. Your eyes fluttered, feeling his hands wander freely over your body.

You were still drunk on that euphoric feeling when you moved your hands from where they were gripping Rhys’ still-covered shoulders to pull on the ends of his sweater. He was wearing too many goddamn clothes.

Rhys chuckled as he let you ungraciously yank the sweater over his head. “Was that not satisfying enough for you?”

Your hands landed on his now naked chest and you leaned in to brush your lips against his. 

“On the contrary,” you said, softly biting his lower lip. “But I need you inside me. Right now.”

Rhys’ eyes filled with lust, his full lips curling upwards, conveying all of the dirty things he wanted to do to you. Without warning, Rhys effortlessly picked you up and you instinctively wrapped your legs around his waist. You whined when your sensitive and still throbbing core made contact with the rough cloth of his trousers.

“As you wish,” Rhys murmured before refastening his lips to yours as he walked you both over to his bed. He simply couldn’t stop himself from kissing you. You were fucking irresistible.

Rhys lowered you to his bed, quickly straightening again to discard of the remaining clothes he still wore. You let your eyes roam his physique unabashedly, taking in his naked form. You knew he kept himself in impeccable shape, and it showed. Rhys smirked when he crawled over you. 

“Like what you see?”

Rhys pressed his body to yours, making space for himself in between your thighs. You playfully smacked his chest and he pretended to be hurt, which made you softly laugh. His eyes crinkled as he smiled at you, leaning down to claim your mouth again. 

You felt his firm erection pressed to your lower abdomen. You’d already taken notice of the magnificent size of him when he’d self-assuredly undressed himself in front of you, but the feeling of him against your naked body was something else. You rolled your hips suggestively, the friction making Rhys moan into your kiss. He was just as desperate for it as you.

You hooked your leg around his waist and grabbed onto his shoulders before levering the both of you over, rolling Rhys until he was on his back. Rhys breathed out sharply, staring up at you.

Perched on top of his thighs, your hand found his hard and wanting cock. You gently squeezed, eliciting another delightful moan. Rhys regarded you with half lidded eyes when you moved over him, lifting your hips to line him up. You sighed appreciatively when you felt Rhys’ hands gripping your thighs to help stabilise you.

Your hips teasingly circled his cock, dragging him between your folds a couple of times to spread your wetness over his length before you slowly sank down on him. You took him inch by inch, marvelling at the stretch, holding his gaze until he completely filled you to the hilt. Rhys groaned, fingers now digging roughly into your hips. You whimpered at the feeling of being so full, throwing your head back in ecstasy. 

“Fuck, Y/N,” Rhys grunted when you involuntarily clenched your inner walls around him.

“Yeah,” you agreed, planting your hands firmly on his chest. 

You lifted yourself up and then dropped back down onto him, repeating the movements slowly and steadily, allowing your body to adjust to him and his blessed size. After a minute or two, you started to set up a fast and fierce rhythm, shoving yourself down on him with sheer abandon.

Rhys looked up at you in awe, lips parted as he let out soft grunts of pleasure. Your nails raked over his chest, leaving behind faint red lines. He didn’t seem to mind though, instead focusing on lifting his hips in time to meet your thrusts. “Christ, you’re a vision,” Rhys said, his voice rough.

You could only moan in answer to that, continuously shifting your hips to find the one angle that made you want to crawl out of your own skin. Rhys knew exactly when you did. Your nails digging into his chest as you called out his name. 

Rhys unceremoniously sat up, his abs flexing as he wrapped his arms around you, making you sink down on him a little further. “Oh, god,” you mewled, holding onto his shoulders for support. 

“I know, my darling,” Rhys rumbled into your ear. “You feel so fucking good around me.”

Rhys tangled his left hand into your hair and tugged — forcing you to bare your neck for him. His lips descended on your pulse point and you moaned when he sucked a mark on your skin.

You felt him start to tremble beneath you and Rhys’ other hand moved between your sweaty bodies, fingers finding your clit once more. The delicate circles completely at odds with the brutal pace you’d set. It was the combination of those opposing sensory overloads that did it. You came hard for a second time that night, moaning uncontrollably. The rolling waves of bliss stealing your breath.

Rhys followed close behind you, groaning into your hair as his own orgasm ripped through him. He came in long pulses, his body shuddering against yours. 

When you both started to come down from your highs, you leaned back, slowing down your movements. You noted his messy hair and the look of pure bliss on his face. Rhys shot you a lazy smile, untangling his hand from your hair to smooth it back a little. It was probably just as wild and untamed as his. Perhaps worse. 

He started to soften inside you, so you levered yourself off of him with a sigh, collapsing next to him on the bed. Rhys laid back as well and turned onto his side, immediately reaching out to pull your body close to his.

You leaned in to kiss him and he returned it, softly moving his lips over yours. There was a striking gentleness there, wholly different from the utter desperation you’d felt before. Nevertheless, it was no less meaningful. 

“You are something else, Y/N,” Rhys murmured, reverent, propping up his arm to support his head with his hand. You mirrored him, delighted at his words. You traced his chest with your finger. 

“So are you,” you whispered softly. 

His dazzling smile caused an unfamiliar, warm feeling to blossom inside your chest. You acutely realised you truly and deeply cared for him. And that feeling ran much deeper than you’d previously thought.

Rhys shifted his weight then, clearing his throat. You frowned at his sudden change in attitude, running your hand through your unruly hair. The action made him glance up at you, a sheepish look passing over his face. 

Oh, this will be good, you inwardly smirked.

“So,” he pursed his lips. “Do you agree to inform Jonathan on his kind act of sponsoring Lockwood’s latest trip to the Mediterranean, next thing tomorrow morning?” 

He already knew you would. It’s what you demanded from him before. To take a breath, see the bigger picture, and most importantly — stick to the bloody plan. Even so, this was Rhys’ way of giving in, acknowledging he’d been a little overzealous with wanting to choke the professor to death. 

It’s okay, it happens to the best of us, you thought. As long as you were there for each other, to balance each other out, all would be well.

“Yeah, I agree,” you answered with a gentle smile. “And do you agree not to do anything rash?”

“As long as I can keep you here in this bed with me — then, yes.”

You snorted. “Right. I suppose that settles it.”

“Very well,” Rhys said, low.

He reached out to touch you again, running teasing fingertips over your side. You instantly jerked back, smacking his hand away. Rhys’ hand warily strayed back to his side as he narrowed his eyes at you. 

“You’re ticklish?” Rhys smirked, devilish.

“Oh, for fuck’s sake. Yes. Yes, I am,” you sighed, already knowing that this insight would become the death of you at some point. The teasing and wicked nature of the man telling enough.

“Well, well, isn’t that interesting,” he said, storing away the valuable information for later.

You groaned in annoyance, making him laugh. He really was insufferable. You promptly promised yourself you would find a way to get back at him. At some point. 

Rhys moved over you then, making you look up at him with suspicion. He briefly caressed your cheek before sliding his hands down your body, the simple touch causing want to flare bright and hot inside you once more.

“What? Did you think I was done with you?” Rhys asked playfully when he noted your quizzical expression, his hands pushing your thighs wider as he settled comfortably between them. 

He pressed a lingering kiss to your sternum, fingers cheekily squeezing your nipple. You keened as his mouth slowly trailed down your body, carefully avoiding the area where you needed him most. You felt that pulsing need for him return in ten-fold and without thinking, you callously threaded your fingers through his hair before taking a fistful into your hand. 

“Stop fucking teasing, then,” you demanded, already breathless, trying to steer his head down.

“Patience, my dearest, patience. Good things come to those who wait. And more importantly — behave.”

You scoffed. “I didn’t see you exercising patience when you so much as ripped my clothes off earlier.”

Rhys chuckled, his warm breath fanning over your core as he just hovered there. You stared at him with unfocused eyes, his hands hungrily rubbing your inner thighs, keeping them spread apart. 

“I promise you this, Y/N. One day I will make you beg for it,” he vowed, blue eyes sparkling with sinful desire as he finally bent his head, never breaking eye contact.

–––– 

A/N: My sincerest apologies for the inordinate amount of smut but it’s been a long time coming.

#rhys montrose x reader #rhys montrose x female reader #rhys montrose fanfic #rhys montrose fic #rhys montrose #you netflix #you season 4 #you season 4 canon divergence #jonathan moore #joe goldberg #goldrose #ed speleers #rhys montrose x original female character #on ao3 #you and me

[golbrocklovely]

i’m interest in allll the psychoanalyses on the guys if you wanna share 👀

i've answered asks like this before, where i kinda go into some detail about what i think on them, but i don't mind doing it again lol

but before i do, i just want to say that this is all just my assumptions about this. there is no definitive proof to what i'm saying, so take what i say with a grain of salt. they are real ppl at the end of the day, so i don't want to say too much or have you guys believing something that might not be true. this is just what i've noticed and what i think. but i also don't know them so…… you don't gotta listen to me.

so snc have a lot of overlap in some of their…quirks, so to speak. but i'm gonna try to just separate it into what i think about sam and what i think about colby. so if i end up repeating myself, you know why.

sam…. sam is an interesting cookie. see for years, this fandom (and me as well) have always thought that colby was the mysterious one, that he was the aloof one. and while he is in some regards, i feel like i can read him very easily at times. not to mention he ends up airing out a lot of things nonchalantly without even realizing it. but sam is an oddball. he almost never shows or tells so it's hard to really know what's going on in his head.

but that's the thing. i don't think even he truly knows.

i think both boys suffer with this, but sam especially: they want to be seen as a nice guy, the hero - so to speak. they never want to be seen in a negative light. and bc of that, they go out of their way to please everyone. and the thing is, you can't really do that. but sam does it differently than colby does. sam does this in his own personal life - he never wants to do the wrong thing, so he always tries to do what others deem as good or right. but i feel like he never gives it a second thought as to whether that's something he truly wants.

i know this will probably be a bit controversial, so no one try to come for me, but i fully believe that sam was never gonna marry kat. if for argument's sake colby didn't get sick last year and things would have worked out in their favor and sam and kat would have gotten engaged, i think they would have ended up calling it off or getting married but divorced not too long after. but it's not bc he didn't love kat, i just genuinely think he wasn't ready and probably won't be for a long time to get married.

sam has made it abundantly clear over the years that he doesn't want to grow up, that's he's scared of losing his youth, of getting older. and i think to him marriage was a sign that his youth is gone. that he no longer can be a boy, that he HAS to be a man. marriage is a lot of commitment, it's a huge step for a reason. and while i think he loved kat, i just don't think he ever wanted to get married. or he wanted to wait until he "had to" get married - when he finally felt like his youth was truly gone. but that's the thing, i think the only reason he was even considering it this past year was bc at that point in time, he had been with kat for 8 years, and enough ppl were telling him "hey, why aren't you two married yet?" and so i think he was literally just going thru the motions bc in his mind, getting married to her would be the right thing to do. bc otherwise…. you kinda look like an asshole for being with someone for this long, promising them marriage, but not fulfilling that promise in a timely fashion.

i think in the right circumstances he could have married kat, but she would have had to wait longer and that clearly just wasn't in the cards for them.

let's see, what else is there about sam lol

he's afraid of being alone. i think part of that is bc he doesn't know who he is as a person. he doesn't know what he wants, what he brings to the table, what stereotype he falls into, and bc he's unsure of who he is, he needs to rely on others to play off of. i think part of that is also being a middle child, but i don't know too much of that since i'm the baby of my entire family (like literally my entire last name ends with me as of right now). but he for sure has middle child syndrome. he wants to fit in so bad and be liked that he goes out of his way to do things that he doesn't even want in the end, and then ends up getting passive aggressive about it bc he doesn't know how to regulate his emotions. he relies on other ppl's words, other ppl's philosophies, to figure out who he is instead of just… listening to his own wants and needs and being upfront about them. and i think part of that issue stems from him being afraid to be seen as a "bad guy". bc hey, crazy concept here, sometimes the things we want are selfish and lack empathy towards others. that's just the reality we live in. and i think he does too much to try to circumnavigate that, but ends up just looking like a dick on accident.

he's also very much about self preservation and truly only respects like… himself, his dad, and colby. everyone else is second, if not last, to him in his mind. so that's why he doesn't take criticism well and just generally doesn't listen to anyone that isn't one of those three ppl lol

he's also a massive control freak with a bit of wet blanket personality. and i say that with all the love in the world…. as a massive control freak with a wet blanket personality myself.

there's probably other things i could say about him, but this is my general thoughts about him.

now… for colby. oh sweet baby colby sksksk

colby is the definition of a ppl pleaser. he wants to be loved and liked so badly by everyone, that he will literally turn himself into a floormat to do so. and i think part of that really comes from his lack of self esteem. idk who told him in his life that he was lesser than, or that he was weak and unworthy of love, but i would love to sucker punch that person. i think he has gotten better over the years, but i think there is a lot of shit deep down that he does not allow up. and a lot of this ppl pleaser energy can be seen with how he interacts with the fans. he does everything in his power to get back into our good graces when certain fans deem he isn't doing enough or did something wrong, even tho most times he hasn't.

like i said before, while colby likes to act like a mystery, he very much tells on himself without meaning to. idk if i've ever talked about this before, but i found old snapchats he made years ago, back when snc were doing the life project, and colby talked about "danger zones" and what these were were places/times when he would be left alone with his thoughts and would end up dwelling and spiraling into some negative things. he worded it in a slightly different way, but that's how he said it basically. and his whole thing to everyone else was figure out what your danger zones were and do your best to ignore those times/find ways get thru them quickly.

and the list for these was like… basically any time he was alone. and the solution to these things was just "try not to be alone". like one of them was when he was in shower, he apparently would start overthinking, and his solution was just to take faster showers.

now, respectfully, if you can't be alone with your own thoughts for as long as it takes you to take a shower……… i think something's wrong.

i'm not one to diagnose ppl. i'm no medical profession. there are just a lot of similarities to things he has said and things i once said before i got diagnosed with depression. i won't go into it, just bc again i don't want to lay that out there since it's none of our business anyway, i just truly hope i'm wrong.

more about colby… let's see….

also afraid to be alone/die alone. also afraid of getting older, but it doesn't seem as bad as sam's. i think part of that, weirdly, also comes from colby just being a more lighthearted person than sam sometimes. so i think colby will always be a bit more youthful even when he's older. a kid at heart, essentially.

colby's past relationship did him so wrong he is really holding himself back from finding happiness. i have a feeling that that relationship "proved" something to him in his mind and that's why he holds himself back from really putting himself out there again. and by prove, i mean, and you'll get this if you've ever felt terrible about yourself, you kinda have this idea in your head of who you are. for example, for years i always felt like i was ugly externally. i just wasn't attractive in my mind. and bc of that, i never tried to ask anyone out, bc i didn't want to be proven right. i didn't want someone to say "no i can't date you bc you're just not attractive to me". but i had that happen before the one or two times i tried, and all it did was validate my inner voice that kept telling me i was ugly. and i think in way, maybe something like that happened to colby. not that exact example, but something happened when that relationship ended that made him go like "i am right" to his deepest insecurities. that the shitty inner voice wasn't being mean, it was telling him the truth.

and i think part of that is that he fell for his ex really hard, came in a little too hot, and she just pulled back significantly. fell out of love for him. and i think that maybe that proved in his mind that he was too much, too unlovable. idk if this is true, but the way he only blames himself and never brings up any of her possible wrong doings (and mind you all of this happened to him when he was like 19 which would be the prime time to blame others lol) makes me think he feels he fucked up just by being himself too much.

and all of this has kinda lead him to do the whole "leave before you get left behind" thing with every past relationship since. it's why he hasn't tried to date seriously and only hooks up.

he has trust issues and abandonment issues, but weirdly has a terrible idea of who to trust. bc he continues to fall for those that love bomb him and say all the right shit, but then air out his dirty laundry (case in point being, shea).

there's probably a million other things i could say about each of the boys, but this is the general gist i have on them. again, none of this is confirmed. this is just my assumption so don't listen to me like i'm an expert. i'm just someone that observes shit and thinks i'm right most times lmao

#ask #personal

[dramallamas]

The (unserious) notes of Beyond Evil. Episode Three Edition

Previous Episode || Next Episode

Cant wait to psychoanalyse this episode later with the scriptbook!

Jinmuk je te deteste dont even dare feel sad you monster

that shot of Juwon lazing on his sofa im down bad

He has nice handwriting tho

Honestly when is this man not thinking about Dongsik

The fly jumpscared me bc of my headphones

Dongsik you bastard (affectionately)

He is not ok rn

Juwon eavesdropping was me and my flatmate last night trying to find out the drama

The camerawork in this show is beautiful omg

Dongsik has no right to look this fine rn tho

Oop spotted!

Jihwa knew both of them were at the station lol

And bada bing bada boom we are in the recording room

And theyre off and Jihwa is so done

Juwon is so like WTF with this whole thing.

If looks could kill Dongsik would be dead 💀

why at 5am?! WHY WERE YOU UP AT 5AM?!

Bro Juwon doesnt hold back

Dongsik <3

Juwon could murder im sure of it. He has it ij him.

I like watching the gay men fight… because its fun :)

THE ONLY TIME I WILL AGREE WITH HAN KIHWAN IS RN “What a nut job. I like him [Dongsik].”

Juwon pissing off Kihwan is just so great at all times.

Theyre gonna find the wrong body and blow this case even bigger

Dongsik again <3 the onlt dilf of my life tbh

My heart breaks for him though. He masks a lot if pain

“What if I ran into older Yuyeon on the street, but failed to recognise her. That worries me a lot…” 💔

Fellas is it gay to stare at another mans smiling photo for a long time whilst in your room?

Juwon you have always been a crafty bitch and I respect that

YJG is a brilliant actor he is a master at subtle emotions which makes him one of the most expressive characters in the show

YAY you found a phone

Bad news for Juwon its Geumhwas phone that has his number.

Mate ur laughing like a maniac like dongsik does. You two arent as different as you think.

But my god you like to jump to the wrong conclusions

Watching the scene with nam sangbae and dongsik makes me cry but i cant because im in the living room with my flatmates. And the score in the background just 😭

Me 🤝 Dongsik : Laughing to hide pain

Man will stay in work just for Juwon

They back and forth in every scene like its all they do.

Mf going on about the culprit always returning to the scene and here comes JINMUK AHDKFMSP FORESHADOWING WE MISSED

Part of me think that Dongsik is suspicious of Jinmuk atp.

If you told them that they would be so close by the end of the series they would be fucking disgusted.

Oop juwon getting interrogated.

Juwon pausing before adding 요 at the end of his sentence like bro you are forgetting your respect conjugation

oh shit juwon not looking good for you is it.

"Given his nature, there is no way he [Juwon] would get involved in a crime" HYEOK YOU DONT EVEN KNOW-

Hyeok became his tutor in 2010... when JW was 17. does that mean that he helped JW in Korea rather than britain? or the tail end of britain onwards.

Hyeok you are such a kiss-ass

Do Haewon 🤢 she is so fake i hate it (which is the poing ig lmao)

LEE CHANGJIN. hes so funny for a bad guy

Jeongje is so frustrated with his mum (same)

Juwon is this close to slapping Hyeok at times.

aliens? rude much kihwan (what did we expect)

and there goes juwon loosing his cool.

annoyingly kihwan makes some points even if its for self centered gain. still hate kihwan dw

bro standing outside as ppl talk about him like 🧍

And then the eye contact between him and dongsik god having a whole silent conversation

Nice recovery juwon.

Them being nice to each other? NOT THIS EARLY BOIS

And boom personal space who? They dont know it.

Dongsik telling Juwon to go to therapy lmaooo

Juwon grabbing Dongsik probably became a… different thing later on yk? Hehe

This episode is basically Juwon and his terrible no good very bad couple days.

Bro you need to hike/walk more Juwon how are you already sweating.

You make think you have him, but nope he has you.

JUWON BREAKS INTO DS BASEMENT PART ONE HERE WE GO

The tiny bloodstain ofc. He def left it deliberately somewhat

And i am so hyped for episode four because of the incoming moments.

Juwon this isnt the victory you think it is trust me

see you all next episode! bye ^^

#괴물 #beyond evil #jwds #kdrama #han juwon #lee dongsik

[rainbluealoekitten]

i want to give you guys boy updates but also! he rejected me! i need to move on! but akso you will not BELIEVE the shit he's been pulling

so we've reverted back to our wonderful little friendship, just like before but actually he's putting in more effort now, and the other day after a study block where we did everything BUT study, he said "this was nice :)" and yeah :) it was

and in TODAY'S study block, this boy sooooo excitedly pulls out this notebook to show me a bucketlist he made for all the things to do before graduating. cute. so i go through this list and some of it is predictable (fill in shorts, whatever workout goal, etc), some very cheesy (dance in the rain), and some that completely caught me off guard (take someone to prom, kiss someone)??? like. why are you showing me this. ik he doesn't like me but could he act like it a little more please bc i'm going insane?? nd also. girlie babes darling who else in this school are yoi taking to prom and kissing. WHO. nobody likes you and you actively make it difficult to make friends PLUS we are a TINY school like ??? unless your gf is going to miraculously appear then idk who else you're going to do this shit with

and then whatever. at lunch my friends and i gossip and psychoanalyse and wonder. but whatevrr. or so i THINK. bc later on before my musical, i obviously text him all stressed, and then eventually we make a joke about one of the girls having to act like a buff man and oh heee knowsss jusy how HAAARD it is and then (and here is what caught me off guard) SENDS! A! SHIRTLESS PICTURE! boy PLEASE you friendzoned me idk what you want me to SAY

#blue screams into the void

[calimera62]

Tanz der Vampire, act 2: A crack and shitty summary

Sarah: Finally, I am in the castle! Now is the time to live my fairy tale

Graf von Krolock: Hello dinner- I mean, Sarah!

Sarah: Hi! I’m here for the romance, the pretty dresses, freedom and the sponges

Graf von Krolock: No biggie, a bite will just do the trick

Sarah: Yay!

Graf von Krolock: But not tonight. We have to prepare for the ball.

Sarah: Why the wait?

Graf von Krolock: I’m a vampire. We like a good show.

-Carpe Noctem-

Alfred: Well that was the weirdest dream I ever had. Mark me down as scared AND horny

Alfred: Dreaming of sharing a seductive dance with Krolock and Sarah, being seduced then turned by Krolock, and me biting Sarah. Shouldn’t mean anything… Still, better not let Abronsius psychoanalyse me on this dream

Alfred: ANYWAY! This is a great day to save Sarah!

Abronsius: Do you mean this is a great day to sneak into a vampire’s tomb?

Alfred: I can’t do it! I can’t kill them!

Abronsius: Bah! Kids these days… can’t handle killing monsters anymore!

Mr Chagal: Hello sleeping beauty

Magda: For some weird reason, I find you attractive

Koukol: No fucking in front of my sleeping masters you deranged people!

Alfred: Professor! We have to find Sarah!

Abronsius: BOOKS! BOOKS! BOOKS! BOOKS!

Alfred: … never mind, then

Sarah: -sings-

Alfred: Sarah! Thank God I found you! We have to leave at once!

Sarah: And miss the ball? Are you out of your mind?

Alfred: The situation is dangerous, Sarah. Please, we have to go!

Sarah: Ask me again tomorrow, tonight I’ll dance with the count!

Alfred: Why him and not me?

Sarah: Well he has a bigger…. SPONGE!

Alfred: What’s up with you and sponges??

Sarah: I just think they’re neat

Alfred: This is bad… I have to find Abronsius.

Abronsius: BOOKS!!!!

Alfred: JESUS CHRIST AM I THE ONLY ONE ANXIOUS ABOUT THE WHOLE SITUATION?

Herbert: Alfred! Just the one I wanted to see

Alfred: This can’t be good

Herbert: How pale you look! Are you ill? Maybe you should go to bed. I might even join you ;)

Alfred: what

Herbert: What can I say? When love is inside me, I just can’t resist

Alfred: ...

Herbert: Yes! I’m in love with you!

Alfred: We only met, like, yesterday.

Herbert: You proclaimed your love for Sarah 5 minutes after meeting her

Alfred: Touché

Herbert: Enough talking, let me have a taste

Alfred: PROFESSOR HELP!!!!!

Abronsius: Haha! What do I see here? Seduction? In front of an old man. Have you no shame??

Herbert: Hitting me with an umbrella… my father will hear about it!

Alfred: This day can’t go any weirder…

Graf von Krolock: Hello, it’s me

Alfred: JESUS FUCKING CHRIST

Graf von Krolock: I’ve heard you’ve been messing around. Don’t you know that too much curiosity is deadly?

Abronsius: Why don’t you come down and tell me face to face? Just to talk. I promise I won’t try to get you and preserve you in alcohol to study you

Graf von Krolock: You’re too late old man, Alfred is already mine!

Abronsius: Nuh-huh

Graf von Krolock: Yuh-huh

Abronsius: Nuh-huh

Alfred: Someone gets me out of this musical please

Vampires: Wakey wakey, time for the ball! But first, let us sang about the curse of immortality

Graf von Krolock: The night is so beautiful. Perfect for an angsty monologue about my life and the weight of eternity

Alfred: Aaaw they have feelings too

Abronsius: I should hope so. I want them to feel the PAIN when we’ll stab them in the heart

Vampires: Time for the ball!

Abronsius: Let us disguise and hide among them

Alfred: Sure, what could go wrong?

Graf von Krolock: Welcome all! Enjoy the night, there are free snacks wandering in the castle. But remember, the girl is mine.

Alfred: Free snacks? Is he talking about us?

Abronsius: Naaa I’m sure we’re fine

Sarah, dancing with Krolock: This is the dream

Graf von Krolock: IT’S MEAL TIME!

Vampires: One of us! One of us! She’s one of us!

Sarah: The risk I took was calculated but man am I bad at math

Graf von Krolock: You wanted someone to steal your heart, I just took your blood. Not a big bifference

Abronsius: Now let us just sneakily take Sarah with us, we can’t have vampires notice us

VAMPIRES: HUMANS!

Alfred: Oh crap

Abronsius: Alright, the fast and not so quiet escape it is then

Graf von Krolock: KOUKOL GO AFTER THEM AND BRING THEM BACK

Koukol: Woh, the wolves aren’t very friendly tonight

Alfred: Safe, at last! Don’t worry Sarah, everything will be alright now! I’m here for you!

Sarah: You are so sweet Alfred

Alfred :

#tanz der vampire #tdv #alfred #sarah chagal #count von krolock #graf von krolock #herbert von krolock #abronsius #professor abronsius

[jewishbarbies]

for the anon who said they feel like theyre the only bi who doesnt like taylor swift - hey! im another bi who doesnt like taylor swift!

tbh i really hate people who keep trying to psychoanalyse me when i say i dont like her. im a metalhead. pop music, other than some lady gaga and rihanna, isnt really my thing. im contantly called "tone deaf" for having preferences.

and people who call her a good "songwriter" need to shut up. her melodies are nothing new, theyre simply catchy. her lyrics are pretty emo. emo is relatable. thats it.

i have friends who are reasonable swifties but some of them... man. one of them said they would listen to my music if i listened to hers. i listened to several ts, harry styles and more songs but she listened to like 2 of mine. she is also one who said "taylor is the greatest singer and songwriter of our generation" like stfu the artists you listen to are less than 1% of all music and all awards these days are more about popularity, connections and money rather than actual talent.

ayyy another bi! we’re officially

in all seriousness, THIS. I couldn’t have said the last paragraph better tbh.

#Asks #anonymoose #anti taylor swift #swifties dni #collecting anti taylor bi’s like infinity stones

[4lph4kidz]

(I have no idea if this sent twice, my laptop did a weird in the middle of it. Apologies if so)

Man, I feel like I get gaslit about Dirk every day. My main take is that Dirk's Big Two Most Memorable Conversations are the AR and Dave ones in LOTAK, and if you're thinking about those two conversations in a vacuum and nothing else with Dirk yeah, you're probably gonna go AR=Dirk=Bro and Dirk admits it, therefore Dirk=Ult!Dirk, but like. lol

and that the comic ENDS on the dave convo, and dirk never gets meaningfully challenged on his beliefs. jake is also crying in the corner that he's the worst and can't be trusted in relationships ever and should probably just go live in the mountains like a hermit forever, do i believe him? are we taking these as accurate self assessments, really? but because that's the tone the comic ends on........ that does feel like the end of their "arcs", those realisations. and that's what you tend to remember if you aren't trying to psychoanalyse those brats.

dirk and his splinters are like... staring at yourself in funhouse mirrors. that's you in the mirror, but it's not an accurate reflection. you still have that giant zit on your face though. it's not that big, but you might want to do something about it.

my favourite kanaya is bewildered kanaya on her first date with drunk rose. she was so gentle....

i lost my original response to this one so i think we're even anon, lmao

basically - i do agree with you, broadly speaking, about what kind of impression those scenes might leave people with, but that's not what i came away with at all. like, i like dirk's ending because it IS one of the better conclusions we get in homestuck, even if i think he's being way too harsh on himself ('i was a completely toxic element in his life from day one' is just objectively not a true statement no matter where you fall on the dirk/jake faildating debacle) i still take his fears about his worse capabilities seriously and really like the way those conversations go, because i think dirk being self-critical is pretty important to his arc and growth, despite his overly negative perspective on himself.

maybe it's cause i don't think he goes unchallenged after all - dave's presence in the scene has a lot to do with why i think it's ultimately a positive thing? yes dirk's fears about being a bad person are actually validated when he finds out yeah turns out he really COULD be that bad, but the person who was hurt most by all that is still very firm about not seeing them as the same person after all, and not holding him responsible for any of it. dave is able to find comfort in dirk being there, and dirk feels that maybe him hurting and being bad for people isn't an inevitability after all.

that said he is still overestimating himself/feeling like he needs to take responsibility for things he really shouldn't, and i fear that difficulty in changing that mindset may be the prince of heart's curse, but still. it's something that gets explored in enough depth for me to be more than happy with it as it is.

this is not the case with jake, who is not even slightly challenged on the conclusions he comes to... it's a shame but homestuck just did not have time during its concluding arcs to take his character seriously and attempt to resolve everything going on with him (in a self aware way, the comic pokes fun at itself for dropping the ball with him) and essentially reverts to the same old tactics/routine in order to press forward, while internalising all that negative shit about himself. that IS pointless, unconstructive self-hatred which is not meaningfully challenged. i still maintain jade and jake getting to talk about stuff wouldn't have wrapped up EVERYTHING, but it would have have provided a good deal better resolution for BOTH characters imo.

anyway either jake gets his resolution offscreen during act 7/the credits, or he gets no resolution at all... which i think is the version i prefer, weirdly. he's a character who has a really hard time facing up to problems so i do like the idea that it is going to take him a long time to work through all that stuff. ideally it happens when he's not in a story that (even jokingly) hates him.

and kanayaaaa TT_TT she is very sweet and gentle but that scene still kinda upsets me tbh. she's such a loving, romantic character who is so earnest about trying to be there for people and to see that go wrong in a way she can't really do anything about is so sad to me

#ask #anon #babbling #the dave and dirk convo was good where's the jade and jake equivalent please i would kill for that

[gumnut-logic]

Wildflowers

Gorgeous artwork here

This one is @godsliltippy ‘s fault. She started drawing, I hadn’t written for a few days, it was inevitable inspiration. Also, many thanks to @gaviiadastra @katblu42 @onereyofstarlight @alexthefly as well as Tippy for various readings and cheerleading. You guys are wonderful to me ::massive group hug::

Warnings: Total fluffy fishtank.

I hope you enjoy :D

-o-o-o-

It was one after the other. That was nothing new but this time Gordon called it.

Virgil was the medic in the family, but Gordon was the psychologist.

Well, not by any qualifications and he would never attempt to psychoanalyse any person not a member of their family, but he had to say that he had umpteen degrees in knowing his brothers.

And this brother needed downtime.

He could have said ‘Virgil, stop.’ But his brother was as stubborn as they come and the immediate response would have been to rebel and ‘do the right thing’ which would have involved launching into the next rescue.

So what Gordon did was much more subtle and over the top.

He had a reputation to maintain after all.

Before they could launch from the grassy mountain top in Austria, Gordon dumped all their equipment where it was supposed to go…and then he bolted.

“Gordon, what the hell?”

But he was already far enough for that baritone to fade just a little.

Before his irate brother could switch to comms, Gordon contacted Five. “Johnny, he needs a rest.”

John sighed. “Gordon, there are ways.”

“Yeah, and this one will work.”

“It’s your funeral. Redirecting to the GDF.”

“Good. Make them earn their pay.”

“Gordon…”

“Sorry, busy avoiding the bear. Speak to you soon.” He cut off his comms.

Said bear was still quite a distance away, but his glare had a long range. Not to mention his stalk. Gordon paused and looked back as Virgil strode through the knee-high grass and wildflowers.

He needed a diversion and he needed it now.

Flowers.

Gordon plopped himself on the grass, grabbed the nearest two daisies and started weaving them together.

Arty and crafty, Virg could never resist.

Gordon suddenly knew how Muhammed might feel if the mountain ever came to him.

And leant over him, frowning fit to split something.

“Gordon, what the hell are you doing.”

“Taking a moment.” He threaded one daisy into the other.

Daisies were their mothers favourite flower, weren’t they? Virgil claimed that they were.

Gordon had no memory of that.

“We have another situation.” Virgil gesticulated towards his ‘bird.

“Nope. GDF is taking it.” Gordon grabbed another flower. “You need to sit down and relax, bro.”

Virgil’s lips were pressed together so hard they had lost circulation.

Time for an earnest little brother to intervene. He put everything young he had into his voice. “John agrees. I’m tired, you’re tired, sit down a moment. Hell, enjoy the Sound of Music landscape. Julie Andrews was always your fav. I’ve certainly heard you singing her stuff enough.” His lips curled. “I dare you to run across this hill top singing with your arms flung out.”

His brother’s dark eyes widened and honestly Gordon could tell he was caught between anger and the need to either rest or simply explode.

Or maybe even run across the hilltop like Julie Andrews.

Gordon could always hope for that kind of footage.

The cool breeze played with Virgil’s hair, picking at it like a bird.

Gordon kept up the ‘little brother’ expression and watched every muscle in his big bro’s body slowly relax. Remove the rescue, remove the responsibility, and he could usually peel Virgil back to the kind but tired man he was, and derail the emergency responder responding.

This was usually the point where the medic caught up with exactly what Gordon was doing and…

“You’re an ass.”

Right on time.

Gordon grinned up at his brother and wove another daisy into his garland. “Sit down, Virg. Take a load off.”

A glance back at his ‘bird, a gaze around their immediate vicinity – hmm, maybe some of that security protocol Kayo had been trying to drill into Virgil’s head was actually working – and his big brother sighed, sinking down into the grass.

Gordon was still grinning, but he let it slip into a smile and started singing quietly…”How do you solve a problem like a Virgil?”

“Shut it, Squid.”

“Aww, but you love to hear me sing.”

He got a grunt for that.

He held out his half-completed garland. “Here, use all those arty engineering skills and finish this.”

Virgil stared at him a moment longer, something unidentifiable in his eyes, before he grabbed the garland and did exactly what Gordon wanted him to do.

See, psychologist.

The next step was to wind him down just a little more and music was always the key to this brother. So, plucking another daisy, Gordon started humming ‘Wildflowers’, one of his relaxing favourites.

The arched eyebrow he got for that one was hilarious.

You belong among the wildflowers

You belong on a boat out at sea

Sail away, kill off the hours

You belong somewhere you feel free.

And yes, there was a small smile forming on his brother’s lips.

Honestly, Virgil was so easy to manipulate if you knew how.

Not like John or Scott…they were just hard work.  

While weaving his own flowers and humming away, he watched Virgil slowly wilt over his own pile of flowers.

Honestly, you only had to get the man to pause on his headlong rush to save the planet and his actual condition would start to shine through.

The breeze wafted over the grass causing ripples. Snow-topped mountains, birds in the trees off in the distance, everything was just beautiful.

Virgil’s eyelids started to droop.

Gordon continued to hum and intentionally fake-ignore his brother while stringing more flowers.

Virgil’s flowers dropped onto the ground.

On the surface, it was ridiculous for International Rescue operatives to be chaining daisies in the middle of a field miles from nowhere. But the rescue had been the most recent of far too many and the fact he had managed to get his brother out here in the first place was clearly a sign that a break was needed.

Virgil was literally falling asleep where he sat.

Exactly why flying back hadn’t been a great idea.

Scott would be proud.

Here’s hoping John or Allie had that big bro in hand.

Gordon continued to hum and before long, he was joined by soft snores as his big brother drifted off to sleep sitting amongst the daisies.

Gordon resisted the urge to smile, almost broke a few muscles with the effort, in fact. Virgil just looked adorable with flowers in his lap and such peace on his face.

He needed it. Hell, Gordon needed it. But one Tracy brother at a time.

Eventually, Gordon was able to let off the humming and their soundscape was reduced to the breeze and birdsong. It was lulling and ever so peaceful.

But he continued to weave flowers together enjoying the quiet moment and the soft sound of his brother’s breathing.

Which was interrupted by a snort as Virgil toppled sideways.

Gordon moved.

Fast.

It wasn’t a conscious thought, just action. After all, it wasn’t as if Virgil was going to hurt himself falling over in the grass, but priorities…

Somehow he did manage to leap fast enough to catch Virgil before his head hit the ground. A sign of reflex if nothing else. But he ended up with his hands full of sleeping and very heavy big brother.

And grimy. Virgil definitely smelt like hard work.

Gordon wrinkled his nose and lowered him gently down to the grass. His brother immediately rolled over and flopped onto his back, and Gordon had to move quick or be squashed.

Virgil wriggled a little and went back to snoring, this time much louder than earlier.

Sitting back on his heels, Gordon did take this opportunity to smile down at his big brother. The man was a goofball of his own definition. Here he was, lying in a field, amongst giant mountains with scenery fit for a major musical, and he had dirt smudged on his nose and a caught flower in his hair.

Gordon blinked.

Flowers in his hair?

His smile grew into a grin.

Scampering quietly back to his half-finished garland and gathering up the discarded and partly squashed remains of Virgil’s, wove them together into a crown.

Reaching over ever so carefully, he placed the flowers in Virgil’s hair. His brother’s hair gel was plenty stiff and fully capable of supporting Gordon’s creation.

Leaning back he checked his composition.

Virgil kept on snoring, white petals fluttering on each exhale.

Perfect.

Phone out, photo and video taken…okay, several photos and videos from several different angles, some cropped and artistically edited, and sent to certain family members on the other side of the planet.

He flicked his phone to silent as replies came flying back.

In amongst the smart-ass comments were two lines from Scott that stuck to Gordon’s heart.

Thank you for looking after him.

Don’t forget yourself.

Gordon sat back down on the grass and stared at those words.

Perhaps he was more obvious than he thought.

But the sun was warm on his cheeks and Virgil was safe, and there were more flowers to weave together, particularly if he was going to decorate Two on the way home.

So Gordon sat chaining daisies together, in a field, on a mountain, humming to himself in his own musical.

Watching his big brother sleep.

-o-o-o-

#thunderbirds are go #thunderbirds #thunderbirds fanfiction #Gordon Tracy #Virgil Tracy #FishTank #nuttyfic

[limetameta]

Mustang: I love the Lieutenant.

Kimblee: Is that the term of endearment you're choosing to die on?

Mustang: :/// yes

Kimblee: Well, I call her by her name. Riza. Because to me she isn't a title.

Mustang: Fine, I didn't want to get into this with you but I also think of the Lieutenant as the Queen on my chessboard.

Kimblee: That's also a title.

Mustang: Listen here-

Kimblee: Do you see everyone as tools, Mustang? A Lieutenant, a Queen, a rook, a Bishop, a major etc. That can't be a nice way of living. People are inherently trusting. This whole machiavelian facade you have going on has got to be draining, doesn't it?

Mustang: Don't psychoanalyse me, you freak. You're the one that needs to be locked up. If I see everyone as tools you see everyone as collateral damage.

Kimblee: :) now you're getting it *pats him on the back*

Mustang: oh god why aren't you in prison... why does the Lieutenant like you?

Kimblee: :)) I ask myself that first question every day of my life. The second one, I don't need to ask... I am an honest man and women love that.

Mustang: Bullshit. You lie all the time.

Kimblee: there is a big difference between being rude and being honest. If I see someone has bought the most awful shoes I have ever seen in my life that , to add salt to injury, dont match their suit at all - I'm not going to say anything. Because I see that person is smiling and happy and boasting about their new shoes.

Mustang, looking down at his new shoes, looking up: Is this about-

Kimblee: Yes, this is about your clown shoes. They make you look like a clown.

Mustang: What happened to not being rude?

Kimblee: I don't like you enough to bother to sensor myself. I only did it that time because we were surrounding by all of your friends. Tools. Titles.

Mustang: oh my god...

#metallic crimson #kimblee and mustang converse and they deal 838383 psychic damage to each other

[mercedesdecorazon]

I adore Lucas and Marisol together. Do you have any headcanons for them as a couple?

*Looks around and makes sure that Rosalia is asleep in her bed* 👀

Whew, I have to do this real quick.

So I don't really ship Lucas with anyone because he's my MC Rosalia's main LI. But I'll try:

💚 Couple goals! These two would be THAT power couple. People would look up to them.

💚 Lucas wouldn't mind Marisol's psychoanalysing all that much. I think he would find that interesting; He and Marisol would have a lot of conversations about Marisol's thoughts on the world.

💚 Marisol would have no problem taking on Lucas's prickly personality (Remember not everyone can take Lucas's personality). She's just as prickly and these two would have some playful arguments all the time.

💚 Weekly dinner dates. They both have expensive taste so high end restaurants are a go!

💚 Lucas would get Marisol into motorcycles strangely enough. He would buy her one and she would love it!

💚 Lucas would teach Marisol how to properly massage and she would take some time to grasp it but she'll learn.

💚 I'm not too sure that they'll last long term but I can see them lasting a solid 4 years before they call it quits.

Like I said, I don't really ship Lucas with anyone that much, since he's Rosalia's LI. And she doesn't like it when I ship her man with other women, especially with one of her rivals (Rosalia and Marisol are 'friendly' rivals - you'll see in my fanfic some day.)

Thank you so much for the ask! I enjoyed this!

(I hope Rosalia isn't too mad at me.)

#litg lucas #litg marisol #litg lucas × marisol #litg season 2 #litg s2

[dgcatanisiri]

I don’t like that these high profile incidents of trials and such turn EVERYONE into an armchair psychologist who’s diagnosing all sorts of things about someone based on what has to be one of the worst days of their lives in general, but I REALLY dislike the way that this only exacerbates the strict dichotomy of “[person X] is the good guy/[person Y] is the bad guy!”

Like... How can it EVER be that simple? A victim in survival mode will do anything to protect themselves, from minimizing what they’ve gone through to complete disassociation, and yes, even to retaliation.

And people still want a “perfect victim,” someone who conforms to our ideas of what victimhood is supposed to look like, and, if they do not, that automatically confirms that they are and have always been lying.

Honestly, we have no business having these be a public spectacle. WHOEVER the victim is in these cases, we just exacerbate all their trauma by putting it on display for everyone to see, PARTICULARLY when it’s so damn easy for the public to diminish what the victims go through, dismiss their status as victims and survivors, elevate their abusers, actively side with them because THEY manage to “perform” victimhood “better” in the eyes of the public.

Cuz, y’know, abusers DO that - they play the wounded party, they make themselves into the victim, and gaslight their victims into believing that they actually ARE to blame. Like... How often do people around domestic violence cases say that they had no idea what was happening behind closed doors? Or even how often do we hear from people who’ve suffered that their abusers got ahead of things by coming up with lies to their friends and family that made them side with the abuser?

Not to mention the cases of mutual toxicity - that a relationship was just doomed from the start, that it was always something that would go off the rails, and ends up becoming a case where both people end up being awful to one another in a game of escalation as a result until the cycle gets broken by SOMETHING? That the people involved just end up bringing out the worst in each other until they finally manage to just break things off?

But even beyond that... How many times do we have to learn the lesson that our armchair psychiatry is based in nothing but stereotypes, assumptions, misinformation, and downright bullshit biases? A couple of months ago, Sarah Z did a video essay on the Panopticon Effect surrounding an incident on TikTok involving “West-End Caleb,” and how all of this kind of armchair analyses can damage people who, on the basis of a few seconds of video, become the center of social media armchairs’ deciding that they’re lying, they’re cheating, they’re secretly serial killers, whatever, purely on the basis of their obsessive observation of those precious few seconds of footage.

And, in many of these cases, the armchair psychoanalyses? Are complete bullshit extracted directly from the analyzer’s anus. They judge a trans woman dancing as being “a man in a dress, probably a serial killer.” An autistic person doesn’t make eye contact and is uncomfortable on film? They’re hiding something from someone, and, because the conversation being filmed flows in a certain direction, it can be anything from cheating on a partner to repressed feelings to any number of things. A boyfriend gets a surprise visit from their partner and doesn’t respond JUST. SO.? Must be cheating.

WE MAKE THESE ASSUMPTIONS AND WE’RE USUALLY WRONG. And yes, I’m acknowledging that I’m just as prone to this as anyone else, I am not immune to propaganda, etc. etc. Thing is, my awareness of this keeps me from jumping right in to the fray. Which... The way I’m seeing things go on social media, that’s not what a lot of these people are doing. They’re not trying to examine their own biases, just jump straight to “[X] is clearly lying, obviously they were abusive to [Y]” or “[Y] is clearly fake crying on command, they must have made it all up to smear [X].”

*sigh* I am REALLY tired of having all of this take up time and space in my head, and yet social media ENCOURAGES this shit, because algorithms demand engagement. I’m sick of it. Honestly, the world would be a better place if we all deleted Twitter and probably TikTok while we’re at it.

#dg rants

[kaywavy]

[not my writing]

Pocket calculators! Now there's something. They're so complicated! I have a calculator which has sines, cosines, tangents, logarithms, hyperbolic functions and multiple nested parentheses. You can program it in Fortran, Algol, Basic, Pascal, Forth, Fifth and Sixth, ADA and Carruthers. It will factorize primes for you. At present it's working on the Halting Problem.

(continued)

It translates from one language to another. From German to Spanish. From Macedonian to Esperanto. From Cantonese to Greek. Or from American to English.

It is, in fact, a multiprocessor system. There are 22 Transputers in there. Sometimes they organize a game of football between them.

It has a full color, wraparound wide screen, liquid crystal, three-dimensional holographic display. It's called HoloChromaCinePhotoRamaScope.

Its audio facilities include Dolby Digital Decaphonic surround sound. On the way here I watched "The Labyrinth" on it.

It also has synthetic speech and a voice recognition system. I often talk to it. I tell it my problems. Sometimes it psychoanalyses me. It has me figured as paranoid. But that's just because it keeps getting at me. But don't get me wrong - it can be very user friendly. In fact you can program precisely HOW user friendly you want it is to be on a scale from ONE to TEN.

On a setting of ONE it won't even interrupt a football game to answer you. But on a setting of TEN it's so friendly that on a cold day it pre-heats its pushbuttons.

But no matter who smart it SEEMS, deep down inside it's just a dumb old computer.

One time I got really mad at it. Like all computers, it knew precisely what I wanted it to do. It knew exactly what I MEANT. So why does it have to go and DO what I SAID?

How do you get even with a dumb machine like that?

First I tried slapping it around a little. I pushed its buttons a bit hard. I threatened it. "How would you like a busted display" I said.

But it did no good. It just said "I am virtually unbreakable - and I'm not going to take any notice till you enter the data nicely, like you used to do."

Whatever I did it always seemed to win.

I decided to have a man-to-man talk with it. So I sat it down and said to it "Who's the boss here, you or me?"

No reply.

Again I ask "Who's the boss, you or me? Go on, answer me!"

"I'm thinking, I'm thinking," it said.

So I hit it. Hard. Too hard. I cracked its case.

At first I thought that was the limit of the damage. But then little things started to go wrong. At first there was nothing definite. Nothing you could put your finger on. Just little things like stuttering. It just didn't sound quite the same. Its voice seemed to lack its former confidence.

Then once I caught it making an arithmetic mistake. Of course I didn't mention it. But you could tell it knew. Its self image was shot to pieces.

Saddest of all, it forgot our anniversary - of the day I bought it. In the past this had been a special time for us.

I just couldn't bear it any longer. One evening I tucked it up snugly in its case, lit candles, played a record which was popular when we first met, and sat down beside it.

"Where did we go wrong?" I said. But it had it pride. It wasn't about to weaken in front of a non-machine.

"Wrong? Nothing is wrong," it said. "Just insufficient data."

But underneath you could tell it was hurt.

From there it was a rapid downhill slide.

Now it just mutters to itself. It can only do very simple calculations on small numbers.

Finally came the ultimate indignity. It lost control. It leaked electrolyte all over its case.

I felt so bad about it. My other gadgets weren't happy about it either. They all came out in sympathy for the calculator. My watch gave me a bad time. My power tools keep blowing fuses.

Then one night last week I was driving my car back from London when suddenly the engine stopped all by itself on this lonely country road.

I tried to get out but the solenoids were inhibited by the central locking computer. Suddenly the air conditioner came on and started to blow out freezing cold air. It made a noise like wind whistling through the trees. Then this creepy music came from the loudspeaker. The sort of music they play in movies when the hero is lost in a dark forest.

I got scared. The cold, the wind and the weird music got to me. Then it started to speak.

"You're the guy who beats up pocket calculators!"

#i’ve posted this bit before but it’s been lost to the tumblr search abyss #i wanna check out cryptography #cuz this is great