#just poorly rehashed
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addressing my abandoned wg comic for my wg followers:
(ty @cargoshortsenjoyer for the suggestion!)
it will likely never be completed so as a result ill be sharing the basic ideas i had planned out for it below:
it was a highschool au staring becky/wg and tobey as being in a relationship (where tobey doesnt know becky is wordgirl)
important context for this au:
after some time of their elementary shenanigans, in middle school, tobey quits being a supervillain due to his aspirations of having a normal life. he's tired of pining over someone he knows will never reciprocate, and even more so of working so hard on his inventions that go unnoticed by everyone, especially his mother. (mommy issues alert)
after tobey's disappearance from villainy, becky/wg gets concerned for his wellbeing and check up on him (as becky). after seeing hes decided to change his ways for once (given its been years since wg originally takes place) she gives him a chance at friendship from which their rivalry turns into a sweet yet playfully competitive relationship with one another by the time theyre in highschool.
au starts:
the two are roughly in junior/senior year (undecided) nearing the end of highschool by the time the au takes place as tobey sees how the stress of school has taken a toll on becky. they have a conversation about it with tobey doing his best to comfort her when she mentions how much the supervillain population in fair city has been affecting her. being a former villain himself this sparks tobeys interest and he starts to pay more attention to his surroundings.
thats when he realizes the sheer amount of villains that had come since he quit. given they only have 2.5 heroes pulling the work of a city practically run by villains, tobey notices the imbalance there is. he finds it unjust that this has to be the state becky goes through everyday. he knows how important justice is to her (she also wants to be a district attorney like her mother) and decides to take things into his own hands
he takes out his robots for the first time in years, (only bigger and better than the ones he made when he was 10 (he's had more time to hone his skills in private)) and begins to "apprehend" supervillains in town, which prompts wordgirl to swoop into his robot warehouse to see whats been going on. (where else would he store those things? his backyard?)
from here tobey tells wg all about how hes being a hero now and creating less trouble or innocent citizens out there when she tell his that this is not the world becky (herself) would have wanted at all. shes not happy to see him like this again knowing the progress hes made and she doesnt want to fight him again after all this time.
events after the existing two parts i posted:
from there on tobey enlists the help of other 'retired' supervillains to achieve his goal of making fair city a better place (for becky). the story continues on as becky/wg urge him to stop and think about what hes been doing which he stubbornly disagrees with her, putting strain on their relationship.
throughout this tobey starts to adopt a savior complex and truly thinks its his duty to cleanse the world of villainy. everyone in fair city is too dense to realize what him and becky do. the fact that just jailing the villains alone wont stop them from crime. there needs to be an end. and he's going to be the one to do it. (adding onto this, tobey will eventually start to target regular criminals without superpowers after he gets rid of the supervillains through his mandated death penalty of those with unnatural abilities. at some point he will begin to view wg as a threat despite being a hero because she stands in his view of whats just. wg tries to save as many villains as she can and tobey is on her trail. at this point its likely rose may hold a part in his investigation, wanting to get closer to the action to get a better scoop.)
the fate of this au is undecided from here on (though there would be a ton of character moments unmentioned here to keep it from getting too long. i would love to touch on how tobecky is holding up throughout this alongside other characters reacting to the scenario (ex. family, friends, villains))
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#sorry sorry sorry this is so low quality but i had to get this out of my system#sorry all of my revstar memes are just poorly rehashed twitter memes. im truly sorry#unfortunately these are funny to me.#tbf i could probably make one of these with almost every revstar character#but in any case nana had to be first.#daiba nana#nana daiba#revue starlight#shoujo kageki revue starlight#revue starlight the movie#gekijouban revue starlight#mine
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yeah I still hate the story beats around killing Ghilan'nain the second time around lmao this coulda been so mean, but instead it's suuuuper rushed
#I continue to dream of hunting CEOs for sport over this#I wish they had gotten the time and resources to set up the regrets#instead of speed running all of them in rapid succession#I'm also just... so fucking tired of Elgar'nan showing up to say a random sentence at me and then fuck off#I wish more companions could have become Hardened so when you're hearing them all sniping at you#as you fall into the prison there was real weight and bite behind those words#the reality that yeah they /could/ believe all that#instead of feeling like “my friends would /never/ say that we're all besties I did their quests”#like it's very power of friendship feeling#and at the end of the day it's all /fine/#they did what they could with the time and resources they had#but I see the potential I see all the threads they were clearly weaving together#and had to snip early#and I'm so mad for them! I'm furious at what they had to abandon because they had to make the game 3 times over!!#chewing on glass#also add fights are kind of bland and I feel like a proper throw down with Ghil#should have been with some unique beasties or a new one that would transform into other bosses#to use their mechanics and junk#instead of just... generic darkspawn... mother of monsters who only has 4 monsters feels bad lol#god sorry okay#I already went on a huge ass rant about this section when I first beat the game#and this is just rehashing my gripes#I adore the first 2/3 of this game but I fucking hate the gods they're implemented So Poorly#Ghil could have been the most fucked up scientist to ever live#and El coulda been such a bastard tempter and manipulator#and instead we got saturday morning cartoon villains who don't even have a proper goal#ajsdhajshd whateverrrr it's fine it's fine it's fine#trying to finish my Shadow Dragon run while tired was maybe a mistake#I'm adoring my Neve romance tho there's good angst here#and she has Very nice scenes 10/10 wish we got more energy like this in general
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":')))))))) you realise that gen AI is available to everyone though right??? Queer creators can use it just as much as anyone else??? I just don't understand this post... It really feels like a cheap way to get on the 'AI Bad's bandwagon, and coming from such a thoughtful and insightful creator that's incredibly disappointing... It's okay to not comment on subjects you're not an expert in y'know...?"
Y'all know the drill, I am replying to this publicly but that is not an invitation to send any negative messages to the person I am replying to.
Anyways, let me start by saying that the original context of the post you're replying to is discussing an event where a queer org used generative AI to steal an interview with Keri Hulme. So let's start there. To be clear I don't even know if the original interviewer was queer so let's put the identities of stealer and stolen from to the side. I want to explain the harm done in this example specifically and I hope this is illustrative of what harm generative AI can (and does) do.
The original place I saw generative AI was a queer org that explicitly says they are using generative AI "for good", and as a way to bring more queer history to light. So let's take them at their word, and assume they are not out to cause harm. This is the best example of generative AI that I can imagine, so I hope that makes it clear that I am not coming at this issue from bad faith in any way.
Here is the harm they are causing:
Decontextualizing and rephrasing an interview: I am not going to pretend that I am an expert in academic best practices, but I do believe one thing, if a person is speaking on their own identity and lived experience, it is always much better to directly quote than it is to rephrase. As I read this source, I initially didn't know that it was AI, and I was already upset. An interview that is widely available on the internet with no pay wall, was poorly sourced and made more vague than it was in the initial text. By creating one degree of seperation between the original words of A WRITER (whose literal job was largely based in choosing the right words to describe experiences they had) harm is already done. It makes vague what was once clear, and removes Keri Hulme's voice from her own narrative.
The original interviewer is not paid, or given proper recognition: I get it, sometimes just copy pasting an interview doesn't feel transformative enough, but something that one would learn if they worked in the queer history field and weren't a literal robot rehashing what has already been said, is that not everything needs to be transformed. In those cases, we give credit to the person who said the original words (in this case Keri Hulme), and the interviewer who facillitated the conversation (in this case Shelley Bridgeman). This case (again a best case scenario), takes the attention and byline away from the original interviewer and gives it to an AI.
The original publisher of this story is deinsentivised from paying interviewers in the future: The original publisher of this interview has ads on their website. As a person who also has ads on their website, taking an article like this and rephrasing it for no good reason (the orginal word count was not prohibitive and the rephrasing did not make it more readable), takes money from the publisher. It's pennies, but it's also removing numbers could have been used to justify further interviews with asexual people and archiving of asexual stories. The org that stole from this publication does not interview people themselves so the money and numbers that could have gone to continue to preserve asexual stories goes to stealing them instead.
These are just the active harms that I saw in this specific case. As you said, I am not an expert in generative AI, and will not be speaking as if I am. But I will say that asking me not to speak out on active harm that is being caused in queer history spaces, is disrespectful to my many years in this field.
To illustrate this even clearer: if you were a patron, you would know I recently took down an old article. I have been rereading and editing our backlist of articles, and I found one that no longer fit my standards of sourcing. My standards had recently raised due to a video made by HBomberguy about someone in the queer history space who was stealing from other creators. I watched this video not as a work project, but because I watch most of HBomberguys videos, and this one made me think more critically about sourcing. An AI can't do that. All an AI has is what has been inputted, and it is right now impossible to input every available peice of information about ethics into an AI and get a coherent ethical basis on which it will function.
It is a distinctly human trait to absorb information and change in that way. AI can rephrase information that already exists, steal it, recontextualize it even, but it cannot create something altogether new.
Do I believe that there one day might be an ethical use for Generative AI? Maybe. Do I believe that coming into a queer history space, stealing the words of a Maori asexual author, rephrasing them, and giving the original interviewer and publication no form of compensation for their work, is accomplishing that? No.
On a more personal note: I am coming at this issue with a bias. As a queer history creator, I do not want AI in my space, because it is literally damaging to my financial prospects. It has been like pulling teeth to try and get patrons in the current state of the global economy. I don't blame anyone from that, but I feel very disrespected that I am being asked to compete with a machine now. Not only that, but I am being asked to shut up and be fine with it? No, absolutely not. I cannot and will not stay quiet as space that I have fought tooth and nail to create in mainstream discussions is taken and given to AI.
AI was not supporting me when I was sent gore to try and scare me off of discussing queer history. A person did that. AI was not there to tell me I had written too many sad stories, and I needed some happy endings to remind myself of the good in the world. A person did that. AI was not there when I was being harrassed for supporting and including asexual stories on my website. A person did that.
And after all that, I am being asked to lie down and take it when my ability to pay the people who supported me in those ways, is being threatened. Nope. Not going to happen.
An AI doesn't have to make rent. An AI doesn't understand what it feels like to have to stop holding their wife's hand in public. An AI didn't get calls from people needing comfort in reaction to the election. Pay me for my work, and get this AI nonsense out of my face.
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apologies and interruptions 𓂃 continuation
pairing. bob reynolds x fem!reader (romantic), john walker x fem!reader (platonic, teammates)
summary. after being a little less than favorable to you, walker decides to apologize for his behavior in the best way he can. meanwhile, you and bobs relationship takes an exciting step forward.
content warnings. a little angst and sm fluff, mentions of injuries and missions, john taking accountability (crazy), so much pining, romantic and (slight) sexual tension, a briefly shirtless bob, food, swearing, hugging, an almost kiss. not proofread
word count. 3532
check-ins 𓂃 part one!



———
you’d woken up sore and poorly rested.
the ache in your side was the first thing you felt. despite attempting to situate yourself before you’d fallen asleep, there wasn’t much you could do for the pain. it was honestly a miracle you’d even fallen asleep. you thought that, maybe, bob had a little to do with it. you’d fallen asleep right before the credits rolled for the romcom you started with him. you always felt comfortable with him, he put you at ease. so, you thought that he’d helped you just a little by being there, even if he didn’t realize the comfort you brought him.
you woke up without him by your side, that was the second thing you felt. there was a warmth missing beside you, the weight of his body gone from your bed. you frowned at the realization he’d left. sure, you were only friends, and he had his own bed to sleep in, one bob was more than likely eager to find solace in. that didn’t mean you couldn’t be disappointed he had left. another thing you noticed was the fact he’d tucked you in properly. your blanket was secured up below your chin, engulfing you in its warmth.
the last thing you felt was how awful you’d slept. the ache in your side must’ve kept you from fully falling asleep, keeping you just inches away from rem. you reckoned you’d be dealing with this for a week or two until the wound healed better. you’d find a way to manage, even if it meant being on the grumpy side for a while. it’s what you always do.
your fingers grasped at your comforter as you pull it closer to your body, adjusting yourself off of your wound the best you could. a low groan slipped from your mouth at the feeling, the ache shimmying its way down to the rest of your body. the impact you’d made against the ground yesterday was beginning to catch up with you. all you wanted was some more sleep, despite knowing you weren’t going to get it this morning. instead, all you did was lay down, cozied up in bed for the time being.
your hand began searching for your phone, fingers eventually grazing it, tugging it off the charger. it wasn’t very graceful the way you’d grabbed ahold of it, nor the way you looked down at the bright screen. maybe you were a little grateful bob wasn’t in your room to see your eyes squinting desperately and your chin tucked down into your chest. you didn’t have much to dwell on that though, the moment your eyes found a notification on your phone your heart began to sink.
it was a message from john.
“fuck,” you whispered out, quickly unlocking your phone as you gulp slightly. your hands began shaking a little with nervousness. you were convinced he texted you to tear you a new one, to double down on what he’d said to you the day before. what he’d actually said, you were sure, was actually so much worse.
“let me know when you’re free. we should talk.”
it was a little ominous in a way only walker would do. part of you wished he would just leave the conversation as it was yesterday, to simply move on and forget about it. another part of you wished he had tore you open over text. at least that way you wouldn’t have to look him in the eyes as he argued. you thought it would be easier that way. your stomach began to ache right along with your wound, suddenly a little nauseous at the thought of rehashing your argument with him. you knew that’s what he wanted from you.
with a grumble, you pushed your blankets off of you, before slowly sitting up in bed. your face crinkled up in slight pain as you plant your feet to the ground, slowly moving to stand. if you were going to do this with walker, you were at least going to shower and change your bandages first.
the old bandage from last night were slightly bloodied on the inside, the gauze a muddy brown. you tried not to think too much about the flakiness or the texture as you gently begin cleaning around the wound again. you got any sort of dried blood off of you out of the shower, figuring it would be easier that way.
you focused on the rest of your slightly sweaty body in the shower, gently washing yourself clean with soap. you were even more careful with the way you cleaned your knee up. a soft smile quirked up on your lips as you thought about last night. you mimicked bobs gentleness with yourself, the thought alone taking your mind off of the soon to be conversation with walker. you wondered what he was doing now, and if he was thinking of you just like you were thinking of him. it’s silly, you knew that. still, you couldn’t help but let your mind drift to it.
it wasn’t until youd bandaged yourself back up, slipping into clean, comfortable clothes after the much needed shower that you’d picked your phone back up. there walkers text was, unanswered, intimidating. you swallowed again thickly, thumbs fumbling at your keyboard as you finally answer back, just as simple as he’d texted you.
“i’m free now if you are.”
your text was left un-responded to for ten minutes. you were sure he’d gotten busy, it’d been two and a half hours since he’d sent that first text. still, you sat on the edge of your bed, anxious and very impatiently waiting for some sort of response from the man. that’s when a knock at your door caught your attention, a lot more rough than the knock bob had given you last night. with a long, deep breath, you pushed yourself off of your bed, walking towards your door.
you opened it to find john standing in front of you. he gave you a small, tight lipped smile as he scratched the back of his neck, looking down at you with eyes that had guilt written all over them.
“hey,” he said, voice a lot more quiet than yesterday. he moved to cross his arms in front of his chest, a little uncomfortable with the situation. “any chance i can come in? we need to talk about yesterday.”
you nodded at him, offering up a small, worried smile. you tugged the door open a little more, giving him space to come in “yeah, yeah we do.”
walker carefully let himself into your room, eyes beginning to wander the interior. he’d never been inside your room, there was never a need for him to be until now. when you shut the door, you’d pointed to the end of your bed, slowly making your way to sit. he was hesitant in the way he sat next to you, giving you two a few inches of space between your bodies. the air was thick with tension. you noticed the way he nervously slid his hands down his thighs. man he really looked worked up.
“listen,” walker started slow, eyes glancing over to you for just a second. your eyes locked in that brief moment, and he’d noticed you were a little nervous, too. his guilt only weighed down on him more. “i’m not really the best with these kinds of things. i don’t think you are too. but i just wanted to explain myself.”
you gave him another nod, eyes flickering to him again. your shoulders were tense and so were his. you were good with feelings, but you weren’t good with confrontation. and walkers stubborn, just a little more than you are, and struggles verbalizing what’s going on in his brain. it was quite the situation you two had found yourselves in. you whispered out a small ‘okay’, urging him to continue. he let out a deep breath before he spoke, something you could tell he truly thought out and practiced.
“i shouldn’t have yelled at you like that. i get, just, so worked up sometimes, and i don’t know how to control it. i need to control it, and i’m working on it, but it’s difficult for me sometimes. when you got hurt like that, all i could think about was lemar, about how i couldn’t save him. that could’ve been you. i don’t know if i was angry at myself for not being there with you, or if i was just frustrated with the situation. either way, i shouldn’t have blown up like i did. that’s not how that conversation should’ve gone.”
walker was here to take accountability, and god did it feel nice to hear that from him. at the end of his little speech, his eyes found yours, a little desperate for some sort of affirmation. he was first met with your gentle eyes, something that’d eased up as he spoke. he was next met with your hand gently smoothing up and down his back a few times as you gave him a nod. this whole thing was a little awkward for the both of you. the apology, the vulnerability, the communication, the touch. walker still found a little comfort in your gesture, though.
you two were the kind of close that could only really be compared to siblings. he was an older brother to you in the sense that he was an obnoxious little shit that had your back when you really needed it. you may not talk about feelings, or much of anything super personal, but you knew he was there for you. especially during missions.
“i’m still a little upset with you,” you whispered, hand drawing away from his back. you kept eye contact with him as you spoke. “but i appreciate you telling me that, it means a lot to hear. it helps knowing where you’re coming from. i’ll try and be more careful next time, i promise.”
walker shrugged his shoulders at your words, eyes moving away from yours to look at the wall as he thought for a moment. his eyes squinted a little as he gave a short reply. “you’re good at your job, i trust you to make the right decisions.”
you nodded once more at his words, now a little unsure what to say. it seemed walker didn’t have much else to say, either, deciding it was best for him to get up and leave. he hoisted himself off your bed, you following his lead a little slower than him. walker offered up a fist, earning himself a genuine smile from you, the first he’d been given in days. you fist bumped him, watching as he heads towards your door to leave.
“we’ll train when you’re feeling better,” walker said while opening your door, free hand motioning down to your side as he slid outside. “practice how to take someone who’s coming up behind you.”
“yes sir,” you say, saluting him teasingly. with a roll of his eyes, he leaves, gently shutting the door behind him. you let out a giant breath when he leaves, hand reaching up to press against your forehead, rubbing slightly. it was relieving having that conversation with him. the air felt a lot less heavy, your chest loosening up as your anxiety mostly eases.
now, it was your turn to go knocking.
you’d found your way towards bobs bedroom only minutes after your conversation with walker. you were eager to speak to him, to tell him that you’d smoothed things over with the hot headed man. your knuckles were gentle with the way you’d knocked on his door in hopes not to startle him.
when bob answered the door, you were slightly taken aback by the sight in front of you. he’d so obviously just gotten out of the shower. his hair was damp and so was his skin - which, by the way, was fully on display, given the fact he was in only a pair of shorts -, the soft vanilla of his shampoo wafting into your senses. you tried not to ogle, truly you tried. how could you not stare for even a second when his chest was on full display, his toned muscles tensing at the sight of you. you weren’t sure who he was expecting, but you didn’t think it was you.
“bad time?” you asked, eyebrows knitting together in worry. you began to worry again, ready to make a quick departure at his request. that’s not at all what he’d told you.
“not at all,” bob said quickly, ushering you into his room, quick to shut the door behind you. he stumbled around until he found a clean shirt, sniffing it to make sure, before tugging it over his head. you frowned only long enough for him not to notice, eyes scanning his back as it disappears beneath the cloth. he turned back to you as he spoke, cheeks tinted pink at his slight indecency, even more so at the realization you’d been staring. “how’s your side?”
you shrugged, eyes blinking a few times as you attempted to compose yourself. you’d finally looked him in his face, your own face burning slightly just like his. “hurts, but it’s not infected.”
bob gave you a smile, nodding as his shoulders slouch in a weak attempt to fold in on himself. he whispered ‘good’, hands clenching at his sides. you decided that you’d try and fill the silence, desperate not to make things awkward. you’d felt bad for staring, even if he was really nice to look at.
“john apologized to me,” you spoke. bob looked a little bewildered at your words, head nearly spinning off as he turns to look at you again. you giggled a little at his reaction, moving to explain yourself. “he texted me and told me he wanted to talk and i almost shit myself. i thought i might genuinely have to take him in a fight.”
bob began to laugh with you, shaking his head softly at your words. his nose crinkled up at the thought of john apologizing. it was something he’d only seen a handful of times. “and all he wanted was to apologize? why’d he text you so weird?”
“no. clue.” you replied through gritted teeth. “it was actually a pretty decent apology though. he didn’t try and put the blame on me, he took accountability and stuff.”
you spent the next few minutes giggling about the situation, relief washing over the both of you now that everything was done and over with. admittedly, bob had been a little worried for you. he knew how worked up walker had gotten you, and how nervous you were about seeing him and confronting him again. he was glad things went well, for your sake and his. as much as it would’ve scared him, bob would’ve stepped in and defended you against walker, even if you didn’t need him to.
after the conversation died down, you’d realized how late in the day it had gotten. it was nearly 11, and you’d yet to eat. you noticed the way your stomach began to growl, how you felt a little lightheaded. you’d lost a bit of blood from the stab wound. not eating anything other than a little fruit in a day and a half was beginning to catch up with you. thankfully, bob seemed to catch on. you weren’t sure if it was obvious you weren’t feeling too well, or if he’d simply just knew you hadn’t eaten in a while, though you were glad he’d realized.
“would you, maybe, wanna go get pizza with me?” bob asked, looking at you full of hope. “we can go get a box to share at that place you’ve been eying up. the one a block or two away.”
you nodded quickly, almost too quickly. your eagerness to be around him continued to grow more and more apparent the longer you were around bob.
that’s how you two ended up walking the streets of the city, side by side, deep in a conversation about the book you’d been reading together. it wasn’t often the two of you were able to talk like this without any interruption. you savored every last minute, clinging to every last one of his words like they’re about to run away from you. during this walk, you’d made a note of how he’d taken the side closet to the road, something that made your heart stutter in your chest. it may not have been intentional, or even something bob put a lot of thought in to, but it had you swooning.
when you’d made it to the pizza shop, he’d ordered you two just a simple pepperoni and cheese. the shop was a little crowded, and it forced the two of you a little close to each other as you stood and waited for it to be made. you didn’t mind in the slightest. the warmth you were searching for earlier in the morning had found its way to you again, inviting and intoxicating. you wondered if he had even the slightest idea the effect he had on you.
an effect that you so happened to have on him, too. you’d just missed the way bob swallowed nervously as you shuffled a little closer to him. your pretty eyes were staring up at him as he spoke, and it had him stumbling on his words a little. bob wanted nothing more than to reach a hand out to you, to feel your warmth against his fingertips. he had to stop himself from doing that often.
after your pizza had finally finished up, the two of your readying to step outside, you noticed how the sky started to darken. bob groaned as you guys pushed out the doors and onto the street, eyes scanning the sky passed all the large buildings. your trip back to the tower was a lot quicker than your trip from in hopes to beat the rain. and, lucky for you two, you had. the moment you’d scanned the both of you in, slipping inside of the building, heavy rain let loose against the streets. you and bob shared smiles as you hustled towards the elevator, heading right up to the living quarters.
the pizza was eaten in the silence of bobs room. you’d say on the ground at the foot of his bed, backs resting gently against the cushioned bed frame. silence with him was just as nice as a conversation. it was almost never awkward. you were able to just exist next to each other in a way you couldn’t with the rest of the team. when the two of you finally finished up your meal, closing up the box now empty box, you’d gotten the urge to touch bob. to feel his warmth up close this time. before you could lose the confidence, you turned to him.
“thank you for helping me out last night,” you whispered, hand slowly finding its way to his elbow. bobs eyelashes fluttered while he looked over at you, sitting the box to the side as his heart began to pick up in pace. “for cleaning up my knee and for listening and stuff.”
“of course,” bob said, head bobbing slightly as he tried to think of the right thing to say. his brain short circuited a little at the feeling of your hand sliding up his bicep. he watched as you leaned into him, your arms moving to wrap around his neck, gently pulling him into a hug. his arms were hesitant in the way they wrapped around your waist, hands finding a comfortable place on your back. he was careful not to brush against your wound, resting his touch just around it. bobs face pressed gently into your shoulder at the same time yours tucked into the crook of his neck, beginning to mumble against your hoodie. “i’m always here for you.”
you sat in this hug comfortably for a few moments, relishing the feeling of his touch and his warmth. a part of you expected him to pull away, to cringe and tell you to stop. all bob did was lean in closer, holding onto your body with such care that it made you a little ill. what he was about to protest was the fact that you’d pulled away from him. that didn’t happen, no. he couldn’t seem to find the words now that your face was only inches away from his.
your breath fanned against his face, eyes staring right into bobs. his hands moved to carefully steady you at the hips, his grip gentle, just enough to keep you upright. your chest was brushing right up against his, his mind swimming back to the night before, remembering the sight of you in your bra. and just when he’d thought you were going to lean in, to close the gap between your lips, a loud knock interrupted your moment. both of your heads snapped towards his door, hearts stammering in unison as you looked. it was yelena, seemingly annoyed.
“team meeting in 15, val’s orders. you lovebirds better be there.”
#munsonify#bob reynolds#robert reynolds#bob reynolds imagines#bob reynolds imagine#bob reynolds x fem!reader#bob reynolds x you#bob reynolds x y/n#bob reynolds x reader#bob reynolds fluff#robert reynolds x fem!reader#robert reynolds x y/n#robert reynolds imagines#robert reynolds imagine#robert reynolds x you#robert reynolds x reader#robert reynolds fluff#john walker#john walker x platonic!reader
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okay time for my rant
i feel kind of upset that i know that a lot of people will be disappointed with season 5 byler because they have this one view: past byler moments need to be referenced.
assuming that it is endgame (bc yeah ofc it is), i don't think that will be enough for everyone, which i totally get <3 like if they do it in a poorly written way (i.e. no depth into mike's queerness or a cheating plot on el) i would totally get not being happy with it. but i know that some people will think that it's not that good because they may not reference past byler moments??
like some things that i've seen people hope for are understandable. for example, wanting a kiss with heroes in the bg, or wanting a mention of the painting. those make total sense because the writers set those things up in a way that implies it'll be referenced later on.
some things i just don't stand by. for example, wanting them to show ANY reference to them meeting each other for the first time, any reference to the crazy together scene. those are already canon moments. it's almost as if people needing these scenes to be referenced is a kind of insecurity in the existence of those scenes in the first place? like we need to them to be rehashed in order to make them like- double canon in a way?
now, i totally get wanting this to happen. for the reasons i have just expressed and the fact it would be really cool. but what i don't get is: saying that the new season's byler would be poorly written without a reference to a past moment.
i can almost see it now, post byler endgame, people getting mad there was no reference to their first meeting, people getting mad they didn't reference 'lets start a new party'. them saying it was poor writing. me going:
honestly......... i think it would be better written if they didn't reference these. More specifically, if the miwi flashback isn't them meeting each other for the first time, i would be equally as excited, because it means a NEW THING for us to reference, a new thing for me to explore in analysis.
the writers will hopefully give us some new lines. new soundtrack songs. new things to analyse and make memes about. i don't neeeed them to say they're crazy together for the third time*.
so if i catch anyone calling writers who have made an effort to create new, romantic, beautiful scenes that deepen the complexity of byler's relationship bad writing just because they didn't reference old moments, i am going to have an aneurysm <3 and then giggle in heaven, because why ur working urself up over literally nothing, i'll be sat, positive and happy, looking at fresh and new things to obsess over.
if you feel attacked by the post, im sorry, i just want to get you guys excited because no matter what we are getting new byler content, new lines and new complexities. sorry for making u feel bad in the future for criticising writers for taking the hard way out, and writing new lines LMAO
and in the possibility that they do reference these old moments, i'll also be happy, i just hate the idea that some people won't be happy if they don't do it, if that makes sense
*if you're wondering what the second time is, it's when mike gives will that post it note with the line on it.
#thanks for listening to my ted talk LMAO#does anyone agree with me i swear im not going insane#byler#byler nation#byler endgame#mike wheeler#will byers#stranger things
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Hi! I don’t know if your requests are open but if they are, could you please write headcanons about how Iruka, Itachi and Kakashi would react to seeing a dream about the S/O dying? Thank you!
thank you for the ask, i'm totally game!!
How they would react to a dream about their S/O dying
They being Iruka (🥹), Kakashi (😩), and Itachi (🥴) - with wildcard picks of Shikamaru (😋) and Sai (🤭) (GN!Reader)
Warnings: talk of death, swearing, lil drinky-poo mention for Kakashi n cigaroot mention for Shikamaru, tell me if this sucks💋
Masterlist💿
Iruka
Iruka dreams about you, on a mission far too dangerous, getting locked into a skirmish and then meeting a gorey demise right in front of him
Wakes up covered in sweat, chilled to the bone, to your concerned voice and gentle hand
He pulls you close in a huff, breathing heavily and quickly - Iruka just can't seem to get enough air until he's got you, on his lap, with his arms wrapped around you and his face buried in your collarbone
You laugh lightly, and scratch his back in slow circles until he's regained enough composure to tell you about the dream
Iruka would be mortified to find out he had been yelling out for you in his sleep, and that being what initially woke you, but he'd be very comforted by your presence and consciousness
He would have some issue getting back to sleep, so one of you would suggest a tea and an early start if the hour was great enough
But, if it was still around midnight, you would flip him to his stomach and perch on his butt, then scratch/rub his back while whispering sweet assurances in his ear for however long he needed to relax again
Terrified of having to live without you, hasn't got a clue how he would be able to see through that kind of fog - he's just grateful for it to have been a figment of his imagination
Kakashi
Kakashi's dream isn't only of you dying, it's of you dying by his own hand
He wakes up with a jolt, turning to find you're safely in bed next to him - still, he holds a finger under your nose to check your breathing
Feeling a burning tingle coursing through him, Kakashi has to get out of bed, he can't just forget about the dream so easily
Without disturbing you, Kakashi gets out of the bedroom entirely and goes to the living room, pours a stiff drink and sits at your bay window while watching the dark sky move
You come out to the living room soon, before he's even done his drink, and you ask if he's coming back to bed
He finishes his drink and tucks you under his arm, steering you both back to the bedroom, feeling poorly about waking you up but feeling quite cared about
Kakashi can't bring himself to tell you about the dream, even if you ask - he didn't want to deal with it the first time, let alone rehash it
Eventually falls back asleep, holding you as closely as humanly possible, drifting off while pressing a million small kisses to your face and head
Itachi
A recurring theme in all of Itachi's dreams is death - familial, friend, himself, but he hates the ones where you die the most
Sometimes, you're killed by another, bested in a fight and demolished in front of Itachi - he can hardly take those seriously, you're far too powerful in the waking world
Other times, it's Itachi, himself, who takes your life - another impossibility, he would never, not even if you had something he coveted
It's the dreams of you and he, sitting together, wasting away with decay and disease - he can't stand those, because they're all too possible and real
He'd wake up with a start, and turn to you, running his fingers through your hair, and over the rosy apples of your cheeks, scouring your body for signs of vitality
You'd wake with a laugh, his fingers tickling your ribs, and Itachi would just hum for you to go back to sleep
Just as you curl up to his chest, he starts having a coughing fit (his lungs sound like sparkling cardboard with your ear right up to his chest) and has to sit up while you rub his back and hit him between the shoulder blades with the heel of your hand
He has to get up to spit out the phlegm and blood he coughed up, but comes right back with a heavy sigh
You promise him you'll stay by his side, through sickness and in health
Though riddled with anguish, Itachi just tells you he loves you, and thanks you for putting up with him, before crawling back into the bed
You two cozy up nicely and you listen as his soft, controlled breathing turns into a light, stuttered wheeze before falling back asleep yourself
Shikamaru
This poor motherfucker can't sleep a full night without at least one sour dream and it's such a drag
He wakes up swearing and shouting when the sour dreams are about you - his dreams never go on long enough for you to die, just for Shikamaru to see you in the grasp of the enemy, scared out of your mind, knowing what's to come
If you're not woken up by his ruckus, he'll surely wake you up to get a good look at you, to get your fearful expression out of his head
You're cranky, having been woken up from a deep slumber, and Shikamaru apologises insincerely before recounting his dream in vivid detail
Of course, this causes a change of tune, but Shikamaru teases you, telling you to apologise for being such a hater after he had such a concerning dream about you
You do, begrudgingly, then ask him to cuddle you again
Shikamaru lights a cigarette and tells you he might not go back to sleep, but leans back into his pillow and puts his arm around you, allowing you to rest on his chest
Despite his claim, Shikamaru almost immediatly falls back asleep, leaving you to slip his cigarette from his fingers, steal a drag, then ash it for him in the tray on his bedside table
He's gripping you so tight, you think he might think you'll disappear if he doesn't
You just sink into his being, taking comfort in his warmth and the rhythm of his heartbeat
Sai
His dreams are quite strange - they never make sense out of the context of Sai's unconscious mind, and even then
They're all very metaphorical and symbolic, and Sai could spend his whole life trying to decipher some of them, instead he just fills a notebook with whatever he can remember
All he can particularly remember from any of his dreams about your death is just a heartwrenching feeling that took over his soul
It would suffocate him, deafen him, blind him
When he wakes up next to you, peaceful and alive, he curses his mind and wishes he could remember the context of the feeling
Sai's just glad it was only a dream, only a manufactured feeling from his subconscious to torture him
He curls up to you, letting that disgusting feeling melt away as you press into him
All Sai can think about as he drifts off to face another vivid, otherworldly dream is how lucky he is to have someone who causes such visceral emotion within him
#itachi x reader#kakashi x reader#iruka x reader#shikamaru x reader#sai x reader#sai naruto#itachi uchiha#kakashi hatake#iruka umino#headcanon list#shikamaru nara#naruto headcanons#sai
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The Winchesters: A Post-Mortem
Endings are hard.
I’ve been dicking around, and as I wrapped up another Supernatural rewatch, I finally decided to follow through on something I’ve been threatening to do for a while: watch The Winchesters. Since the show is dead, done, and dusted, I feel okay about it because now it feels like it’s just some obscure piece of lost media and I’m not actually, you know, supporting it.
I think we have a hard time letting stories end, especially when they have been with us for so long. We live in an age of reboots and endless spinoffs. The Winchesters is an interesting case because when the flagship show ended, viewers had all their own feelings about it, but it was over and they knew it was over. Dead, done, and dusted.
Not so much.
As you know, on June 24th, 2021, about seven months after the end of Supernatural, Jensen Ackles announced his spinoff The Winchesters, produced by his and his wife’s new production company, Chaos Machine. Robbie Thompson would be heading the project, and it would be telling the “epic love story” of Sam and Dean Winchester’s parents. We’ve already established that there’s no story here, and no matter how you twist it you will never convince me there is – at least, not in the way they wanted to tell it. Diehard fans and conspiracy theorist Hellers seemed to end up being its primary audience, but considering its low viewership numbers, I don’t think it ended up attracting many people outside of the established fandom, and was thus canceled.
This was not a story people cared about.
This fact did not seem to matter to the good people at Chaos Machine and The CW.
Luckily for me, there are only thirteen episodes, and I have nothing better to do, so I am here to present my autopsy of The Winchesters.
The pilot moves so fast.
The Winchesters begins with Samuel Campbell, Mary’s father and Sam and Dean’s grandfather, who we know from the original show. In the prequel, he’s played by Tom Welling, not Mitch Pileggi, but he’s a mere shadow when we first see him, so we can’t tell yet how poor the casting is. All that matters is that we know he’s gone missing, and Mary wants to find him.
Immediately, the cold open of the pilot pales in comparison to the flagship program’s pilot. It really does feel like a cold open to any run-of-the-mill episode of Supernatural. It doesn’t create that same intrigue as the Supernatural pilot does.
But that brings us to one of the show’s central problems, and it’s something that shows up almost immediately: it is a poor attempt at rehashing the original, filled with Easter eggs that the casual viewer wouldn’t have gotten or cared about.
Right after that, we get the copycat title card and then a sort of awkward transition to John’s homecoming. He’s having PTSD flashbacks to his time in Vietnam, his tour having just finished, and goes home to see his mother (whose name I don’t even think is mentioned in the pilot, not until the second episode, so I think anyone wasn’t isn’t familiar with the original show might be a little confused.)
But this is where we hear him: Dean Winchester.
“March 23, 1972. The day Dad came home from the war, and the day he met Mom. Now I know this story might sound familiar, but I'm gonna put the pieces together in a way that just might surprise you. And in order to do that, I have to start all the way at the beginning.”
Um. Okay.
I’m going to tell you what this is, and it’s really very simple: it’s a justification.
Genuinely, I think these voiceovers are one of the worst things about the show. Now, Dean isn’t exactly a poet, and even Sam teased him for some of his corny lines, but these bookends are…beyond poorly written. Just strings of cliches put together, and the first one is the worst one because what it is attempting to do is justify this show’s existence within its very text.
As anyone who is familiar with the situation knows, when the prequel was announced, there was very public backlash – including from Jared Padalecki, who not only played protagonist Sam Winchester in the original show, but was not looped into any of this…at all. He found out at the same time the rest of us did, and it was pretty clear from the reaction that his was the majority opinion.
The thing about this little intro from the pilot is that it’s not really Dean talking here – it’s Jensen. It’s Danneel Ackles and Robbie Thompson trying to justify the fact that this show even exists. That exact sentiment showed up in several press releases and interviews for the show. Whoever was being spoken to, they’d be like “Oh, we’re gonna surprise you! It’s not what you think!”
The thing is, the prequel is:
Not surprising
Doesn’t exactly start at the beginning. That’s misleading.
(“I’m gonna put the pieces together in a way that just might surprise you.” Jesus Christ, shut up.)
The pilot does do something I appreciated, though, which was to acknowledge that John enlisted underage by forging his father’s signature. This could have been interesting, but they drop it pretty fast.
I know pilots sort of need to hit the ground running to prove their case, but if we’re going to use the original show’s pilot as a point of comparison, it’s incredibly weak. Not only were there rumored production issues and they apparently had to do reshoots, forcing them behind schedule for the rest of their run and putting immense pressure on the cast and crew, but it’s simply lacking. In the original pilot, we are given enough glimpses of the Winchester backstory to make the rest of the pilot interesting. Sam and Dean are brothers and therefore have history, a dynamic – though strained at the time – and an undeniable chemistry that intrigues us enough to keep us watching. With the Woman in White, we get an idea of what it is the family does and what Sam has run away from, while giving the episode a plot that isn’t yet mired in the show’s mythology.
The Winchesters doesn’t have that. What we have is John and Mary, and while a lot of people were rightfully confused as to why they – of all the characters on the original show – would be the ones to get a spinoff, the fact is that they did. Truthfully, while they would not have been my first choice, if treated properly, I believe John and Mary’s lives before the show could have potential.
What we know about John and Mary from the original show is that they were brought together by a Cupid from Heaven in order to ensure the birth of Sam and Dean, so that Michael and Lucifer would have vessels for the Apocalypse. In fact, the Cupid states that John and Mary couldn’t stand each other beforehand, but I guess when they bumped into each other outside of Slaughterhouse Five (which does happen in the spinoff’s pilot), I guess we’re to assume that’s when Cupid’s arrow struck and they fell in love.
Basically, their love is…not natural. It would not have been something they chose for themselves without divine intervention. The prequel doesn’t hint at this at all. Instead, the prequel has John and Mary immediately thrust together and John introduced to the world of the supernatural and the Men of Letters and on his first case all in those 42 minutes.
These are not John and Mary. Not the ones that we could be made to truly care about.
The John and Mary we know are much more complex. They are interesting, and flawed. We know from season 12 that Mary was sometimes sneaking out on hunts, even after Dean was born. We know that John and Mary would sometimes separate for a few days at a time, maybe even longer, probably because what they had for each other was not true love, but something divined by Chuck/God and the angels in order to carry out their plans. They were pawns, especially when it came to them as a couple. A story where Mary is struggling to keep her former life a secret while John is dealing with his post-service life, all while trying to be a couple and having these moments of realizing they don’t really know or love each other could have been a good premise. Instead, what they present is instead just sort of…confusing.
After the pilot, there are a series of Monster of the Week episodes. This is all supposed to be John’s intro to hunting and the true coming together of the Scooby Gang. This version of John and Mary are thrown together with Latika (she’s the pacifist who does all their research), Carlos (he’s the stereotypically slutty, sassy bisexual), and Ada (the wannabe witch who’s older than them and I guess sort of a mentor? Maybe?), and along with John’s mom, Millie, we’re told that they’re this big, happy found family.
Lots of telling and not showing here. In all honesty, John and Mary don’t have great chemistry, and that is not intentional. (I’m actually not gonna blame this one on the acting, at least not wholly, but I’ll get more into that later.) John is saying that he can’t live without Mary within something, like, three episodes. Honestly, he’s got better chemistry with Latika in the pilot than he does Mary. Actually, I’d say he has better chemistry with pretty much all the other main characters – Latika, Carlos, and Millie – than he does Mary, and that is interesting. Ya know why? It’s because it makes John feel like the protagonist. And John is the closest thing to a Sam-like character we get in this show.
We learn early on that the Big Bad is something called the Akrida, which are these weird, poorly CGI’d spider-looking things (all of the budget on this show went to music and reshoots, I swear), and they are out to destroy the universe – and not just this universe; all the universes are at stake, so it feels like the show is trying to play off what the original program was doing in its last few seasons. (Which, weren’t all but Earth One destroyed anyway? Or something like that?)
This is a big thing. It feels…too big. The first season of the original show did a good job of building to the reveal of Yellow Eyes, and they let that story breathe with the Special Children in the second season. We saw that while Sam and Dean were experienced, they were still novices in a sense, in over their heads, and did a lot of learning and had to figure out how to work together again. We don’t get that feeling here. They’re too good too fast.
xXx
In the tenth episode, John and Mary go up against a Golem. The Golem is under the control of a former Man of Letters who performed experiments on humans, and under the guise of helping them defeat the Akrida, he wants to use John and Mary to bring back what the Akrida took from him: his wife, who was killed by them in the late fifties.
When John and Mary dispose of the bodies at the end of the episode, John thinks what the Man of Letters was doing was out of love, trying to bring her back, but Mary says that he was only doing it for himself – that he was being selfish. And then she asks John if she thinks they’ll ever turn out like that.
Immediately, this seems to be an assertion that what Mary did in the original show – making the deal with Azazel after he killed her parents and John to bring John back – was this awful, selfish thing. That saving the only person she had left, the only person she could save (because she wanted Azazel to bring back her parents, too), was inherently wrong. This seems to ignore the fact that Mary had no idea what the repercussions of the deal would be. All she knew was that the demon was going to “pay her a visit”, whatever that was supposed to mean (probably assuming he would come to collect her soul as usual), and all she wanted was to save just one person, and that was the man she believed she loved.
I know we’ve established that John and Mary’s love was contrived, but to Mary, she believed she did love him, and it is ridiculous to think that her saving him was something that makes her inherently bad, or selfish, or unloving, as the prequel seems to imply. She could not have known that Azazel would do what he did to her, to Sam, and to their family. She didn’t even know there would be a Sam and Dean! She was nineteen years old!
And yet, the prequel takes this opportunity to vilify her. The fandom already did enough of that. When Mary made her return in season 12, her character endured endless misogynistic takes. When even Dean said it was ridiculous of him to expect her to tuck him in and make his lunch, the fandom still didn’t want to accept it.
Mary is a complex character. She was dealt as shitty a hand as any other character, but still had to absorb a lot of blame. Oh, god forbid she struggle to adjust to the 21st century, and having adult children, and not being dead anymore, and learning what the consequences of her actions were. She clearly felt immense guilt for the hurt that was brought on her family, which was something she would have never intentionally done. She wanted her and her family to be safe and did the best she could with the information and resources she had. God forbid a woman be complex or have flaws or be anything less than the perfect mommy to her adult sons. (Who – again – were not as upset about that as the fucking fandom was.)
And now the prequel is piling onto her, too. Our Mary is better!! Shut the fuck up.
xXx
The prevailing sentiment I had when watching this show was that none of it mattered. The plot, the characters, the monsters…none of it mattered. Not as a story, and not as it related to the original show. It doesn’t even really succeed at doing what it really set out to do, but we’ll get to that later.
Like I mentioned, the Akrida feel like a really big Big Bad for the first season of a show. Ultimately, what the Akrida are, are a failsafe for Chuck. Basically, they were his backup plan if he were to ever cease to be and they would carry out his plan to finish destroying all the universes he had created. I guess those of us who watched the original show are supposed to gather that he created these Akrida sometime around season 15, when he started getting rid of all those other universes. And, since the Winchesters and Jack defeated Chuck at the end of season 15 and Jack took over as God, these creatures are supposed to come in and finish what Chuck couldn’t.
Alright. A little convoluted, but I can follow it. It’s how the spinoff attempts to connect itself back to the main show’s plot.
But, wait a second – I thought this was the epic love story of John and Mary!
Let me just say this: this is not a love story. The love story in the show is pretty weak. Like I mentioned earlier, the show moves so fast, which means John and Mary’s relationship moves incredibly fast, and the show makes no indication that this is because of any Cupid effects (but maybe they knew the clock was ticking and they didn’t have a good chance at renewal.) We get no sense of how much time has passed here. I’m being told I should care about this relationship, but I don’t because of how little effort the writing puts into not only developing this relationship, but the characters themselves. So it’s hard for me to say that the love story matters in any way.
Then there’s John and Mary’s searches for their fathers. Those of us who have seen the original show know that Henry Winchester died in the future killing Abadon. We also know that Samuel Campbell first died when he was killed by Azazel in 1973, and then in season six after being resurrected by Crowley to help him search for alphas. After the show opens with Samuel going missing and Mary starting the search for him (which just doesn’t pack the same punch as the search for John), Samuel’s presence in the show after they find him is negligible. For one thing, he’s not a great portrayal of Samuel, and doesn’t even look like him – not a bit. That part isn’t as important, of course, but it does still take you out of it a bit. This Samuel is still sort of a jerk, but it just feels like he’s sort of…there. So when they find him, it doesn’t feel like a big deal.
John’s search for Henry is carried out a little better. The reason for John deciding to go home to Lawrence after returning from Vietnam is because a Mystery Man (who we all know is Dean) gave him a letter that Henry had left for John before his passing. It leads John to finding an old Men of Letters clubhouse in Lawrence, which he and his new friends use as a base throughout the show and is a resource for them in learning about and fighting the Akrida. When John finally does see Henry as a ghost (the result of a séance similar to the one Sam and Cas perform to contact Bobby in season 10), Henry is once again portrayed by Gil McKinney, like he was in the original show. That does help. Henry is mostly there to give them information to help them with the Akrida, but it does give John and Millie a sense of closure, unlike in the original show, where John spent his whole life not knowing what happened to Henry and hating his guts.
This all happens in the seventh episode – the show’s midseason finale: both John and Mary get answers on their fathers. It’s supposed to be the episode where all these things start to come together. Mary finds Samuel, John and Millie find Henry (sort of), we get some answers on the Akrida, and John and Mary kiss. Woohoo.
After that, there are another few Monster of the Week episodes with Big Bad plot running alongside it, just like in the original show. It follows a similar structure. The episode with Richard Speight, Jr. as Loki (not sure if it’s supposed to be the real Loki or Gabriel as Loki, but probably the latter?) is maybe the worst one. Loki/Gabriel just comes off as an annoying caricature, the plot and his scheme are just sort of confusing, and there’s just…way too much singing. Part of Carlos’s story is that he wanted to be a musician, and he and his former bandmate do some singing, and the songs don’t even sound as if they fit the time period, so. That’s awesome.
Carlos is also subjected to more humiliation when in an episode with vampires – and I’m sure those in the know already know where this is going! – he has Latika douse his hair in holy water and he whips it around to splash it on the vampires. Like…since when are vampires affected by holy water? Not only is the physics of it stupid (it would be so inefficient to have to be constantly whipping your head around, just fucking squirt them with a water bottle or the water gun Carlos used in the pilot), it’s just not even right. It’s incorrect within the show’s own mythology.
The penultimate episode is a creepy clown episode. I will say, the clowns are sort of creepy, but maybe that’s just because I agree with Sam about clowns just being inherently creepy. It’s an okay case, I guess. This is also the episode with Rowena. Ada is trying to find some sort of magical way to deal with the Akrida, and she stumbles into a witch club where Rowena finds her. Ruth McConnell does what she does, and it’s hard to complain about Rowena because she always plays her well. She does give Ada the magic to use against the Akrida in return for a bonzai tree that has a demon trapped in it (I know, I know) because the bonzai demon has information on her son. (Who we know is Crowley, but he doesn’t get a namedrop here, and there’s no further explanation there. I guess it’s possible Rowena could have known in the seventies that Crowley/Fergus was a demon or otherwise had something to do with demons and hell, but when she sees him in season 10 for the first time, she doesn’t recognize him. I do think that can be written off as him just being in a new vessel, though, so I’ll give this one a pass.) Of all the guest stars they brought on from the original show, Ruth/Rowena is by far the best, both in performance and purpose. She shows Ada how to kill Akrida using magic, but doing so kills off a bit of her soul, similar to the magic used to resurrect Jack in season 14.
And then it’s the finale. Just like that. In the final episode, they go up against the Akrida and their queen. In order to kill them, they either need to use the magic Rowena showed Ada, or they need to use something from another world. They connect with a hunter, Joan Hopkins, who has been in contact with Dean/Mystery Man, who she has thrown into the portal and destroyed after months of him staying ahead of her, and no living thing can survive the portal (the portal being the thing that the Akrida use to destroy worlds.) John and Mary find out this hunter is actually the queen. She and her family have hunted with the Campbells for generations, and we find out that Joan was actually born in 1673 and after losing her entire family and her husband, she turned on humankind and imbued herself with monster essence. She claimed monsters weren’t the problems, but humans for always needing saving, making it so hunters always paid the price for protecting them. She was made the Akrida queen when she was cast out of her world, and she is helping them carry out Chuck’s final mission of wiping the universe of universes of humanity. And now, Joan/the Queen is at full power, and will open up the portal to finish the destruction.
In the end, there’s this battle, and all our new friends are there fighting the Akrida, and they use this thing called the Ostium in an attempt to summon something from another world to kill the Queen, the Ostium being the only thing known to be capable of doing such a thing. They use Dean/Mystery Man’s journal to try to summon him, but nothing happens at first, leading them to conclude that the Mystery Man is dead.
And then – as we all know – the Impala appears.
Mary realizes the Impala is not from their world, and therefore can be used to kill Joan. With the portal open, she runs Joan over with the car, but also ends up accidentally going through the portal, which as we know, no living thing can survive. Womp-womp.
But wait! The Impala reappears, and inside it is a living Mary – and Dean Winchester.
Apparently, the Impala somehow protected her (I don’t know how, it’s not explained, don’t ask me), and Dean tells them all he’s already dead, so it’s not like it could do anything to him, and I guess that tracks. He was stuck in between worlds after being tossed into the portal by Joan, waited by the portal, and gave Mary a ride out.
I’ll let Dean explain the rest:
“I'm a Hunter, just like you. But I'm not from this Earth…When I died, I made it to heaven. And [the Impala] was waiting for me. So I went for a drive, and then I took a little detour. Through the multiverse…I was looking for my family. See, I come from a long line of Hunters. I guess I was hoping that somewhere out there was an Earth that had a version where my family had a shot at a happy ending. When I was driving, I caught wind of the Akrida. Turns out that they were one of Chuck's last creations...basically, he's a real dick. He left the Akrida behind to wipe out all of existence in case he failed. Well...he failed. Eventually the Akrida were going to make their way to my world, and I got family there, so I couldn't let that happen…I took my little detour. The rules were simple. Don't mess with anything. Well…I gave it a little nudge. Thought it might need a little help. Looks like it worked out pretty well. So now that the Akrida are gone, you all can choose your own destiny. You can write your own story.”
Then Bobby and Jack show up. We already saw Bobby at the beginning of the episode, and he more or less feels like Bobby, but it’s still like…what are you doing here. What’s going on here. This scene at the beginning of the finale shows us when Dean gave John that letter from Henry, when he’s dressed like a Bond villain, setting the story in motion. Bobby reminded Dean then that they weren’t supposed to meddle, but Dean is Dean and does whatever the fuck he wants, apparently, and Bobby says he’s off to get the cavalry, a line I’m still not completely clear on because who is the cavalry in this situation? Is it Jack? Can’t be Gabriel/Loki because they’re dead, can’t be Rowena because not only is she Queen of Hell in the main timeline, but nothing about her appearance here suggests that she was the current iteration of herself from the original show. So I don’t know who the hell the cavalry is in this context, but I’ll let Jack and Dean take it from here:
JACK: Dean. DEAN: Yeah. No, I know. I know, Jack. JACK: When I restored things, I wanted mankind to make their own fate. That meant no interference from on high, anywhere...no exceptions. DEAN: I couldn't let our world get destroyed. Sam's still down there, okay? He deserves a good, long life. Hell, they all do. So, if you want to cast me out of heaven...so be it. BOBBY: If we're taking a vote, I'd say you give the guy another chance. JACK: There's always another case with you Hunters...even in death. Well...if you're going to meddle in things, finish what you started. After this...it's time to get around to the..."there'll be peace when you are done"…part of the song.
Jack then hands Dean the journal he had been writing in and the Colt. Yes, the Colt. Dean gives them to John and Mary, telling them to use the Colt if a Yellow-Eyed Demon ever comes to them, and to use his journal to help guide them as hunters. The journal is what we see Dean with in the final episode of the pilot, and what he says in voiceover at the beginning and end of each episode (which are just these platitudes and cliches about hunting and family) are written in that journal. They ask his name, Dean tells them it’s James Hetfield (founding member of Metallica), and then he, Jack, Bobby, and the Impala disappear.
The episode ends with all of them happy the Akrida are gone and free to make their own decisions about their lives. John plans to keep hunting with the gang, but Mary isn’t sure. She got into Kansas State earlier in the season, but she needs time and space. But she does show up at the Winchesters’ repair shop at the end, and she and John go on a drive while “Ramble On” plays over a montage of scenes from the show.
And that’s it.
xXx
Okay.
What becomes abundantly clear at the end of this show is that all that mattered – all that ever mattered – was what the fuck Dean was doing. It wasn’t John and Mary’s love story, it wasn’t the search for their dads, it wasn’t the question of whether to hunt or not, it wasn’t the Scooby Gang’s found family. It was just…Dean.
Now, don’t get me wrong: I love Dean. I think he’s an interesting character. I also think his death was appropriate. But one person was so frustrated by his ending that he decided he needed to do something about it.
The logistics of the finale are…weird, to say the least. I can understand the logic behind the Impala being capable of killing Joan based on the show’s rules. It’s of another world, and Joan really gets her shit rocked by it, like Regina George getting hit by that bus, so I can buy it killing her. Sure. And I guess Dean waiting by the portal in the space between spaces or whatever is…plausible, I guess, since we don’t know how anything works between universes, so I’m willing to buy that. (Notice I’m not buying anything here with much enthusiasm, however.) But what the fuck does Dean mean, he heard about the Akrida while he was driving around? What does he mean, he took a detour? Did Jack tell him what was happening? Was he the one who set the rules? If so, did he not take care of the problem himself because of his own self-imposed resolution to not meddle? Did Jack want Dean to give John the letter? I don’t think he did because Bobby seemed to think that was meddling, which Dean was expressly told not to do, but how does any of this work without some level of meddling? And speaking of Bobby, I know we see him in the original show’s finale, but what the hell is he doing this whole time? Did he get caught by Jack doing something offscreen that we’re not told about, or did he run to him and tattle? (Super out of character for Bobby to be a narc, by the way, if that is the case.)
Or, maybe I’m supposed to interpret this another way, as something Dean stumbled upon while he was taking his Heavenly drive. He said he took a little detour and went looking for his family. That he was hoping there was a version out there that had a happy ending. Maybe he somehow found this potentially happy version of John and Mary and learned their universe was being threatened by the Akrida when he did? I don’t know.
I am baffled. Befuddled, even.
This episode is the only one to acknowledge Sam, and what’s funny about that is that for as much as the show excluded him, it inadvertently reinforces the idea of Sam as protagonist. Dean wants to stop the Akrida not to save this universe, necessarily, but because he’s worried about the Akrida getting to Earth One and getting to Sam. He did it all for Sam. It’s fucking poetic, is what it is, and I don’t think they did it to be poetic. I think they did it because they knew that:
They were stupid to leave Sam out of it in the first place, and
They had to justify this whole thing somehow.
In the end, none of it mattered.
xXx
At the beginning of this, I mentioned how hard it can be to let things end. While we can joke about how ridiculous Carlos whipping his hair back and forth to spray vampires with holy water is, or how Mary was dressed like a knockoff Claire Novak in the pilot, or the vanishing Impala, or how bad the Akrida looked, or how convoluted the premise of the whole show is, I think there’s something more we can take away from this: The Winchesters is a study in both vanity and poor media literacy.
Dean Winchester dying at the end of Supernatural makes perfect sense within the text of the show. This is a tragic character completing his tragic arc. His death also symbolizes the end of an abusive cycle, but in order to acknowledge that, you have to acknowledge that something very complex exists within Dean’s character. Many fans do not want to acknowledge that Dean continued the familial cycle of abuse. Do I believe he loved Sam? Absolutely. Do I believe he was unfairly parentified? Yes. Do I believe he was also a victim of neglect? One thousand percent. But that doesn’t change the fact that Dean continued these harmful cycles. That’s part of the tragedy. His death made it possible for Sam to break those cycles and live a life he had been continuously guilted and shamed and ostracized for wanting to live, and while that’s in a sense a win, it comes about in a tragic way.
The tragedy is the point. The hurt is the point.
But Jensen Ackles just didn’t like that. Of all the people on the cast and crew, he was the only one who it didn’t seem to click with, and look – I can understand that maybe he needed to take some time to sit with it because he brought that character to life for fifteen years and that character has a rough end, and it also marks the end of fifteen years of his life. It’s tough stuff. But what Jensen and the producers of The Winchesters did didn’t add to Dean’s story or his character, it didn’t add to the original story, it didn’t improve upon anything, or clarify anything, or rehabilitate anything.
It was Jensen’s attempt to get the last word, and it failed spectacularly.
I said earlier that I don’t want to blame a lot of the show’s problems on the acting, and I think that’s true. The main cast are young actors who haven’t been in a ton of projects (Meg Donnelly, who played Mary, has the most experience with ABC’s American Housewife and Disney’s Zombies movies), and I don’t want to blame cast and crew for just wanting to get work, and the main case certainly isn’t unwatchable. They have to do and say some pretty cringy shit at times, but that’s not on them. The supporting cast is generally serviceable to forgettable, and only truly bad a couple of times (the guy who plays Ada’s half-djinn son is…not great. He sounded like he was having lines fed to him and wasn’t comprehending any of what he was saying). Carlos and Latika aren’t particularly bad characters or poorly portrayed or anything, even if they do rely on some stereotypes (again, not on them), and might be fine in another context.
I will also say, though, that while Meg Donnelly isn’t like…a bad actor, she’s not a good Mary. The Mary we know from the flagship program is sweet, and hopeful, and resourceful, and very capable. I could absolutely believe that the Mary portrayed by Samantha Smith or Amy Gumenick could both kill a monster and struggle to break out of the life she was raised in, and absolutely, 100% want out of that life and apply to Kansas State University behind everyone’s back (just like someone else we know!) Donnelly’s Mary just feels like a Claire Novak rip-off. Which was a weird choice to make, and I guess they could try to justify by being like Oh, well this is a Mary from another universe, but that’s not gonna fly. We got a Mary that could certainly kill monsters, but otherwise doesn’t really feel like Mary Winchester at all.
Then there’s John, portrayed by Drake Rodger. He was my favorite of the main cast, and the one who seems to be the true protagonist, which I noted earlier. Rodger had mentioned having watched the original show, and he has that sort of gentle giant quality that Sam had, and even does a good job of picking up on some of his mannerisms that make him at least feel like a Winchester. Does he feel like John? I mean…that’s harder to say than it was with Donnelly’s Mary. We know from the original show that John before hunting was a pretty different guy. He was probably struggling with PTSD after his tour, but Mary repeatedly refers to him as a sweet, open person, so I can believe that this John could be more like Sam: generally a very nice, gentle guy who you need to watch out for when he’s angry or scared. As far as performances go, he did pretty well – or, as well as he could, considering the writing.
So, yeah, I’m not gonna pin the show’s downfall on the acting because that wasn’t it. And I’m not gonna pin it on the crew, either. Sure, the special effects and editing weren’t always great, but they weren’t always the best on the original show, either.
This is a project that never should have been greenlit, for one reason because it would have saved that crew member from getting struck by lightning. The crew member sued, naming Ackles and the other producers in the lawsuit along with the network for not following proper safety measures. Director John Showalter, a Supernatural alum, decided he wanted a scene shot in the rain, even though there was lightning in the vicinity. The show had already dealt with reshoots and short filming windows, so Showalter, the producers, and the network decided to risk everyone’s safety, and a crew member literally got struck by lightning and woke up in the emergency room. I hope he gets a giant settlement.
It also shouldn’t have been greenlit not just because it was apparently poorly run and unsafe (which, really, is the worst thing about all this – the show’s not even good, and you’re endangering people for it), but because it was a petty little vanity project. Jensen Ackles just couldn’t let it go, couldn’t stand that he wasn’t the protagonist, and had to try to get in one last word.
But he couldn’t do it. He was never going to be able to do it. This wasn’t a project driven by love of storytelling, but by spite. He wanted everyone to be thinking Where’s Dean? How does Dean fit into this? What’s he doing there? He didn’t want to explore this weird, difficult relationship, or the original show’s major theme of autonomy; he just wanted attention. That’s what comes through in all of this because the story itself doesn’t matter. If these characters don’t reveal anything about the original characters or story, then it doesn’t matter, and it’s certainly not written or performed or produced well enough to make it matter. Why should I care about this John and Mary? I don't know, and the show doesn't, either.
And the kicker is that all of Dean’s voiceover bits are stupid cliches, it doesn’t make sense how he even got himself into this mess, and it all still comes back around to Sam in the end, anyway. So there was literally no point. It was all a waste of time and money and a man got struck by lightning.
This show was doomed from the start. Dead, done, and dusted before it even made it to your screen.
#supernatural#spn#spn prequel#the winchesters#spn meta#jensen ackles#john winchester#mary winchester#dean winchester#sam winchester#that's right I'm putting this in the main tags#idk if anyone will be interested in this or not but here it is#I know it's long but there was quite a bit to say#and I had nothing better to do#abby speaks
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oneshot one four three ❤️🩹
pairing — paige bueckers x fem!reader
content & warnings — "four years of heavy hearts and unspoken words meet in the gampel pavilion parking lot, rehashing old wounds" , uhm just poorly written angst sorry...
word count: 1.9k , notes @ the end (i'm sorry for this)
[PRESENT DAY, 30 SECONDS AGO]
“I just wanted you to know.”
It’s been four years. Four years of pain you thought you numbed. You thought you numbed. Because now that wound in your heart you had tried so hard to ignore felt fresh all over again.
[4 YEARS AGO]
Maybe you should’ve seen it coming. Maybe you did see it coming. Doesn’t make reality hurt any less. That’s just the harsh truth. Paige’s life was changing, her future having so much in store for her. A future that you aren’t in.
She left for Connecticut two hours ago. Her last message to you was five minutes ago.
paige :) 9:13PM
Boarding now
I’m sorry
You blocked her number after staring at the message for another five. Childish, sure, but so was your hoping things would work out for you. Hoping long distance would work out. But Paige was barely out of state and look where you were now. A sick game it is, love. Not fit for childish hopes.
[PRESENT DAY, 2.5 HOURS AGO]
“Please! It’ll be fun I swear!” Your best friend begged. She’s been begging you to go with her to a UConn basketball game. You would but you got off a plane not even two hours ago and entry to the game venue was in less than one. But your best friend is nothing if not persistent and you relent to her continuous pleas.
Within 45 minutes you’ve showered, picked out an appropriate outfit, and done minimal makeup. You wanted to look at least a little more presentable.
Your best friend, Elsie, rushes you out to her car to drive you to the UConn campus from her apartment. She hops out of the car excitedly, telling you all about the friends that let her know about this game. You nod to the sound of her voice but you don’t pay attention to the words she’s saying.
This is a women’s basketball game. You don’t realize you’ve said that out loud until Elsie looks at you and says, “Duh,” with a weird expression on her face.
You don’t say anything but silently, you dread every step closer you take to the arena, knowing what (or who) you’ll probably be facing in a matter of minutes.
Elsie spots her UConn friends near the entrance to Gampel Pavilion and runs excitedly up to them, waving you over quickly when she notices you didn’t follow her. You walk behind the small group of girls quietly, having said minimal introductions. The place is already packed and buzzing with energy as soon as you step inside.
You follow the way to a registry table and then to your seats. It’ll still be a few minutes until the athletes come out so you take that precious time to calm your nerves. Elsie notices you breathing heavily and shaking your leg and sends you a concerned look. It snaps you back into a more normal state. You were probably worrying for nothing.
Except when the UConn Women’s Basketball team, or more specifically, a certain blonde on the team, emerges from the tunnels, the stands erupting in cheers, people clapping loudly next to you, it feels like the world stops to lend you that moment of time to feel everything again.
[4 YEARS AGO]
“You could’ve told me sooner.” Your voice was eerily quiet. It unsettled Paige only because she thought you’d be yelling at her. You wanted to, you wanted nothing more than to scream and yell at her but you couldn’t. The only display of emotion coming from your otherwise stoic face were the quiet falls of tears coming from your tired eyes.
“I know, and I’m sorry I didn’t.”
“You let me hope, Paige. You let me hope like an idiot in love that you would choose to stay. Or at the very least, be willing to keep me in your life!” The last sentence rising in volume as you finally felt the anger take over.
She was committed to the University of Connecticut, a thousand miles away from where you currently were in Minnesota. That wasn’t the part that made you angry. You were angry that she had waited until months after she told you where she committed that she couldn’t do long distance.
Your chest burned and your throat constricted with all feelings of grief and anger. Bile rose faster than the words you wanted to scream at her, leaving you speechless.
Paige was quiet herself, too ashamed to say anything further. “I hope everything goes well for you in Connecticut.”
And then you walked out of her house, a red tinge in your eyes and an ugly feeling in your heart.
[PRESENT DAY, 2 HOURS AGO]
Paige ran out with that buzzed feeling running through her. It felt like her veins were electric currents. The crowds cheered loudly upon seeing her and she loved playing into it too much, her teammates smirking at her.
They announced the starting lineups and within a matter of minutes the first quarter to the game had begun with the tip-off.
The game felt good. Paige felt in her element and the the crowds felt energized. It was shaping up to be a great game for the Huskies. For Paige especially. She sank a good number of her three attempts, getting her teammates some assists, making most of her free throws.
By the fourth and final quarter, UConn was up by 11. Their momentum hadn’t slowed down and every player that got to play got a decent amount of points by the end making a decisive victory with the Huskies up by 18 points in the end.
Paige was on a high even after almost everyone had cleared out. She felt amazing, like she could do anything.
Fate has a funny way of testing her.
[PRESENT DAY, 30 MINUTES AGO]
The game ended well. You did enjoy watching (if you count out all the times your eyes drifted to Paige, which in your defense, is hard since she is kind of their star player, which was a lot of times so maybe you didn’t enjoy watching as much you thought) and maybe you’d watch another one (if even thinking about basketball didn’t bring back painful memories).
One of Elsie’s friends was still inside the venue talking with some other people and you were waiting outside for her since she needed a ride home. Elsie was just recapping all the moments she loved from the game and you did your best to agree and respond as enthusiastically. If she noticed you were forcing it, she didn’t say anything.
A door opens and you instinctively turn to where the sound came from. At first, you don’t register who walks out properly because of the canopy of darkness from the night sky.
Then your eyes meet hers and you both freeze. One could argue it’s from the chilly breeze but anyone with two, even one, functioning eyes would be able to tell something was off.
You turn back around quickly, trying to push Paige out of your mind which was much harder now that she was standing the closest she has to you in years. Your attempts are completely futile when you feel a presence behind you and Elsie is making a face at you to turn around.
Reluctantly, you do. And you think you can hear your heart crack like porcelain.
She looks good even in her tracksuit. She still has the same blonde hair and dark roots. The same piercing blue eyes. She still makes you feel the same things she did four years ago. Although now there are more painful undertones as you take her in.
“What are you doing here?” she asks, not accusatory, just in genuine question. It takes you a second to reply back, kind of in shock that she was talking to you again.
“I’m- I’m visiting my friend,” you point over your shoulder to Elsie who waves before turning to walk away, pretending to be on her phone. You’ve told her bits and pieces of your history with Paige but she’s never gotten the whole picture. Whether it was because “it wasn’t that serious” or it hurt too bad (it’s the latter), you’re sure Elsie’s probably figured out the answer herself by now
Paige nods. Neither of you say another word for a solid minute, just standing there quietly, looking at each other. Wondering if this is real life.
Paige isn’t even sure why or how she ended up here, she only vaguely remembers her feet carrying her over like there aren't four years and paragraphs of unspoken words between you two.
You don’t even realize you’re crying until Paige’s hand instinctively reaches out to wipe the droplets away before stopping herself, knowing that that’s probably inappropriate to do now. Every fiber of your being wishes she didn’t because you’d have let. You’d have let her do whatever, no matter how reckless.
“I’m sorry,” she whispers. It’s so faint you have to strain to hear it. “Why are you apologizing again?”
“Because I still don’t think I’ve said it enough. I really am sorry.”
You only sigh but add a nod along with it. “It’s okay.” Except it really isn’t. Somehow the pain is worse than the first time she said it. All you want at this moment is for the pain to stop. For Paige to not say anything further for fear it’ll only make it worse.
But she has a knack for doing the opposite of what you want.
“I’m not sure I should even be saying this, or even be here really, but I regret doing what I did to you. I regret it so much.”
“So why did you do it? Why’d you let me believe we could work it out? That you’d let me be there for you? I was willing, Paige.” Quiet sobs wracked your body, threatening to get louder as she stays silent again.
She’s crying now too. Paige contemplates what to say next, trying to gather her thoughts but that’s the thing about you, she’s never been able to think properly around you. So she blurts whatever response her brain conjures up.
“I was scared.”
“Scared? Scared of what?”
“Of the possibilities.” She’s quiet. You’re quiet. Dead silence falls between you two.
“You think I wasn’t too? I was so terrified of all the things that could go wrong. But I loved you enough to not care, even when you chose the possibility I was the most scared of.” Anger flooded your body again. This was so unfair.
“Everyday I wish it wasn’t the one I chose. But I got in my head and didn’t want to lose you while we were thousands of miles apart.” The “so I lost you while we were three feet apart” hangs in the air.
Nothing else comes out of your mouth. You’re too tired for this conversation.
[PRESENT DAY, 1 MINUTE AGO]
You thought when you walked away that day four years ago would be the worst pain you’ve ever felt. That turned out to be a lie as thirteen words fell from Paige’s lips.
She didn’t say anything else but as the final blow to your already worn out heart, she lets herself hold you in her arms, giving a light kiss to your temple before walking away to her car.
You sobbed dryly as she drove off, the last words she said to you ringing in your ears.
“I still love you. I never stopped. I just wanted you to know.”
🔖 — day two! chose a pretty vague prompt and went angsty with it. idk how to feel about this honestly i hope my angsty writing improves... lmk how you liked it! thank you sm for reading 🤍
#✮ litfiction#✮ c says#paige bueckers#uconn wbb#paige bueckers x reader#uconn x reader#uconn huskies#wcbb#angst#paige bueckers angst
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Reunion
Rick Flag Sr. adjusted his collar, the usually unshakable leader of the Creature Commandos suddenly feeling as vulnerable as a rookie on his first mission. The old diner was exactly how he remembered it—dingy, with faded wallpaper and the faint scent of burnt coffee—but it had been years since he’d sat across from her here. Years since he’d walked away.
The team trailed behind him, their curiosity poorly concealed. Dr. Phosphorus glowed faintly, a walking nightlight in the dimly lit establishment, while G.I. Robot clicked quietly as he surveyed the room. Weasel, as always, shuffled nervously, nibbling on someone’s half-eaten toast abandoned on a neighboring table.
“Why’d we have to come for this?” Nina Mazursky muttered, her aquatic features half-hidden by the hood of her coat.
“Because he’s our leader,” Frankenstein rumbled. “And it’s… entertaining.”
Flag turned sharply. “Stay out of sight. Just—don’t cause trouble, alright?”
The team exchanged dubious glances but slinked into a booth at the far end of the diner.
Then she walked in.
Y/N looked older, of course—they both did—but to Rick, she still carried the same elegance that had caught his eye all those years ago. Her (h/c) hair was streaked with gray, her eyes held a mix of warmth and guardedness, and she still wore that locket he’d given her, now faded with time.
“Rick.” Her voice was soft but steady.
“Y/N.” He stood, unsure whether to offer a handshake or a hug. She settled it by sliding into the seat across from him, her expression unreadable.
“Still running with monsters?” she asked, nodding toward the team’s not-so-subtle attempts to eavesdrop.
He chuckled awkwardly. “Still running. Just different kinds of monsters now.”
A waitress appeared with two mugs of coffee, setting them down with practiced indifference. Y/N wrapped her hands around hers but didn’t drink.
“I heard about the missions,” she said after a moment. “The risks you take. It’s not much different from what tore us apart back then.”
Rick winced. He’d expected this—deserved it, even—but it didn’t make the words sting any less. “I thought maybe, this time, I could show you… I’ve changed. Or at least tried to.”
She raised an eyebrow. “You think a cup of coffee is going to fix decades of neglect?”
“No,” he admitted. “But it’s a start. And I wanted you to know—I never stopped thinking about you. About us.”
Y/N softened, just a little. “Rick, I didn’t come here to rehash old wounds. We both made choices. I just…” She hesitated, then met his gaze. “I miss you too. But we can’t go back. That doesn’t mean I don’t want you in my life. I just… don’t know how.”
Before he could respond, a loud crash came from the team’s corner. Weasel had knocked over a tray of plates, sending them scattering across the floor. The waitress glared as Dr. Phosphorus tried (unsuccessfully) to melt the shards into a pile.
“Really?” Y/N asked, one eyebrow arched.
Rick sighed, pinching the bridge of his nose. “They’re… a work in progress.”
She laughed, a genuine laugh that softened the tension between them. “I can see that.”
As the commotion settled, Rick looked back at her. “I don’t expect anything, Y/N. I just wanted to see you again. Maybe try to be… better, for whatever that’s worth.”
She reached across the table, placing a hand on his. “You’ve always had a good heart, Rick. Just don’t lose it in all the chaos. Let’s take it one step at a time.”
From their booth, Frankenstein watched the scene unfold with an approving nod. “He’s holding his own,” he remarked.
Nina smirked. “For now. Let’s see if she survives meeting the rest of us.”
Rick glanced over his shoulder, shooting the team a warning glare before turning back to Y/N. For the first time in years, he felt a flicker of hope.
Maybe monsters weren’t the only thing worth fighting for.
#creature commandos fanfiction#creature commandos#creature commandos x reader#rick sr#rick sr x reader#rick flag sr fanfiction#rick flag sr x reader
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Because tears of the kingdom is a spineless rehash of breath of the wild, I think it’s not unsafe to predict that age of imprisoning will be an equally uninspired copy of age of calamity. So here are some of my predictions for Nintendo retreading the same ideas a-fucking-gain!
It’s marketed as a straightforward adaptation of the imprisoning war. First few levels support this idea, but it flies out the window once characters are supposed to start dying
Before everything can go Big Wrong, Link and the sages from the future show up bc idk more time power/secret stone bullshit to Save Da Day!!!!
If anyone is unable to escape their poorly-written totk fate, it’ll be Sonia; who will be fridged just as gutlessly as she is in game so players know how unambiguously Mean and Evil and Not Nice Ganondorf is
Ganondorf has no interests or personality outside of laughing evilly, kicking orphaned puppies, and laughing evilly while kicking orphaned puppies
The sages’ movesets are 1:1 copies of Revali, Daruk, Mipha and Urbosa’s in age of calamity
The definitely surprise characters from the future have movesets that are also copied from their age of calamity counterparts
except maybe Riju and Yunobo bc the Thunderhelm and Daruk’s Protection are part of their aoc appearances but went to the bottom of the well with all the sheikah tech in totk
The game makes gestures at filling the void where the sages’ personalities should be, but doesn’t go all the way because that would break with the party line set in totk
They try to make the Rauru hand abilities into combat mechanics just like the sheikah slate runes
The descendant who has to exist in order for Sonia’s “blood connection” line to make any fucking sense either remains unmentioned or is upgraded to flavour text
There is a Very Very Sad moment where it looks like either Zelda or Rauru is about to sacrifice themselves. Naturally it doesn’t stick
To make up for the lack of unique characters who could fill out the roster, they add OCs or reuse playable characters from age of calamity
They try to have sages from the past and the future bond like everyone did in age of calamity and it fucking sucks because where the champions were likeable in their own right the sages are just cardboard cutouts standing in for characters
The talents of Matthew Mercer, Cherami Leigh, and Chris Hackney are just as wasted as they are in totk. The other VAs do not get a better deal
Ganondorf is defeated and the rest of the Gerudo atone for the crime of being the same race as the demon king by humbly accepting their rightful station as Rauru’s cherished vassals like the rest of Hyrule. This goes completely unquestioned and unchallenged
There’s a side stage where the player wrecks the sages as Ganondorf
The Light and Demon dragons are either bonus missions like the divine beasts in aoc, or they’re alluded to in Zelda and Ganondorf’s special attack animations
The last scene before the credits is Link, Zelda, and the new sages saying goodbye to Rauru and co and going back to their own time. And they all live Happily Evar After!!!!
#bluebird.txt#salt of the kingdom#totk salt#totk critical#maybe I’m wrong and the game will either be good or an okay companion to totk#but I’m not playing it to find out lol#age of calamity sweetheart I’m so sorry this bitch is trying to copy you
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thinking about the reboot mw games collectively and it’s so sadly unfortunate because like. when put up against the other two, mwiii fails so visibly.
first of all you’ve got their thesis/emotional core, right. for mw19, it’s all about the personal motivation of being a solider, the cost of war on an individual. what it means to fight and discovering the importance of what you’re fighting for. for mwii, it’s about trust. the importance of knowing that your team has each others backs, the weight that it has between individuals. what happens when that trust is broken and how it’s found again through vulnerability, because that’s how you truly know you’re there for each other.
and then there’s mwiii..? you should let your sergeant kill a prisoner illegally so said prisoner, when he breaks out of maximum security prison, doesn’t kill your sergeant 4 years later? you should illegally kill people who piss you off (shepherd)? sure there’s the whole “never bury your enemies alive”, but where does that come in to play outside of the soap/makarov interaction? it’s definitely not a valid reason for price to kill an american general in his own office. they could’ve used it for graves if they wanted to take it a step further, but no— graves doesn’t betray the team again, for whatever reason. we’re expected to consider him just a much a member of the team as anyone else, and the narrative treats him as such outside of a few bristly reactions to his involvement.
secondly i take a huge issue with how characters were handled in mwiii. literally everyone is here, and there is no reason for several of them to be. alex felt like a cameo— you see him actually on screen for maybe 30 seconds. farah’s missions feel forced for the sake of her involvement. not that farah shouldn’t be in this game, but makarov’s flimsy reasoning for targeting the ulf is so clearly an excuse to involve her. it feels very random and transparent as a decision to reuse her character because she’s familiar. again with graves— why is he here? i still genuinely do not understand why they decided to retcon his death. it was a perfect arc for mwii to kill him, and him being alive adds absolutely nothing to the story. he has nothing to do in mwiii and there is zero reason for his involvement other than “people liked him in mwii and he has a cool accent.”
within the 141, it’s mostly rehashing of the growth/personality that each of them showed in previous games. none of them have an arc, except maybe price if you’re willing to call the *post credit scene* where he commits cold blooded murder a completion of an arc. gaz, soap, and ghost are static versions of themselves that simply are just … there for most of the plot. they’re not out of character or ruined, but none of them individually have anything going on that can’t be tied back to price.
i think a lot of it comes down to the way they tried to shoehorn mwiii into the original trilogy’s storyline. people loved those games, and nostalgia sells. i don’t think it’s a coincidence that makarov was a big marketing factor for this game— and that’s not to say that mw19 or mwii didn’t abuse that either, but in execution you can feel the difference. price, gaz, soap and ghost are all their own characters miles away from their original trilogy counterparts. makarov… isn’t. he’s a poorly written villain riding on the success of the original trilogy— he’s scary because he’s *makarov*, not because he’s a real threat. it’s cheap. the knockoff “no russian” mission felt insulting. it’s a callback with no real impact in the story, just simply “look! remember when we did this in 2009 and everyone loved it?”
and all of it culminates into a shit ending with shock factor that it tries to make you feel emotional. i’m not sad over this character death. i’m mad, because it’s unearned and lazy. i realize it’s a lot to ask a multi-billion dollar corporation to actually put effort into their stories, but… it’s such a let down when the previous games actually had at least an ounce of passion. i’m just still so disappointed with this game ruining what could’ve been a really interesting and unique story.
#anyways ummm#yeah this has been on my mind for a while#if i was a youtuber id make a whole video essay on this because i am very passionate about how badly they fucked up#i have a character analysis essay for my english class that i actually need to write too#but this is easier because fuuuck#pls pls share your thoughts let’s all complain together#or if you liked mwiii tell me why#call of duty#cod#cod mw2#soap cod#john soap mactavish#soapghost#ghostsoap#mwii#mwiii#mw2#mw3#simon ghost riley#kyle gaz garrick#john price#task force 141#tf 141#idk? complaining?#phillip graves#farah karim#modern warfare
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winter of our youth
eleven first _ prev _ ao3 [tw//: mentions of blood/injury in this chapter.]
Ultra Magnus' internal clock reads that it has been about four hours since the accident, but it feels deceiving, as if it was malfunctioning. Time melds across several diluted and mismatched conversations, uncertain about what he's exactly said and to whom he’s said it. He's vaguely aware of when you mumble slurred words in your sleep or the inner debates he's had with himself, getting all riled up to succumb to exhaustion again. Replaying everything over again to pick apart what he should have done to prevent this untimely disaster, horrified with the outcome attached to reality. Magnus' playback even extends to the night the two of you first crossed paths, verbosely regretful before shaking such a mindless thought away.
He was disappointed in himself, but he had no compunctions in ever meeting you. The backtracking was selfishly needed since you were not awake to discuss it, but it didn't mean that it resolved all of his woes in an instant. The whole circumstance feels as if someone had picked everything up and thrown it straight back in his face, rehashing the same fear that he thought you’d overcome. An old wound resurfacing that he'd thought had finally healed itself.
But it’s fair, and Magnus would never dream of bothering you whilst you press a plastic bag rattling with ice to your face. You needed the space but were unable to distance yourself from him, so the silence this time around was not only warranted but expected. The both of you are injured, yet you’re far worse off than he is. He can’t even look at you, disgusted with himself beyond any sort of reassurance, try as you may.
In the first hour, you’d gone through the five stages of grief, perhaps a little too fast as it knocked you out cold for the second hour, body catching up to the exhaustion. A wad of bloody paper towel sits firmly in your grasp, head leant up against the driver-side window to seep in its colder touch. Every so often, more liquid would trickle from the wound, and you wouldn't quite feel confident enough to assume it was healing properly. It was likely broken, but the bruise that was developing was well enough to steer Magnus far away from any conversation with you, angry at himself.
“Perhaps we should go to a medic,” He says, implied more sternly than a mere suggestion. “You persist that you do not need to be seen by a doctor, but I still do not believe you. Nor do I accept your insistence that you are fine.”
On reflex, your gaze bounces to the rear view mirror, only to find it’s still positioned away from you. “You don’t have to believe me.”
You expect the discussion to die there, but to your surprise, he stands firm. "You are right. I do not."
Latently, you understood full-well that your annoyance and irritability were poorly misplaced. Maybe it was the blinding headache that you were forced to suffer with or the shooting pain that ran up and down your nose that fueled an already unsteady flame. It could also be the addition of Magnus' abrupt coldness, more indignation to his tone than you were formerly amicable to.
"What are you going to do?" You seethe, annoyed as more blood runs down from your nose, leaving a trail of red across your face. When he doesn't respond straight away, you offer some additional superfluous arrogance. "Do whatever you want, I don't care."
He pauses for a great deal of time before answering, as if choosing his words carefully. "You appear upset. Is it due to your injury?"
"Making me agitated?" Voice softening, you swipe at the mess gathered on your cupid's bow before placidly setting the bag of ice onto the floor by your shoes.
Now that Wisconsin was no longer an option, Magnus had decided to drive in any direction, so long as it was not back the way you had just departed from. Nowhere felt reliable, and he felt even more defenseless than he had just a week prior, now without any sort of means or intention. He hated such an observation, feeling powerless against an unknown, even more so when now he had someone looking to him for a solution. Until he had a better plan, it was west, and part of you thought that he'd keep driving into the ocean past California when he ran out of road. His determination was exceeding the speed limit, but you couldn't place if it was resolve or fear. Magnus was so distracted, far more so than you've ever known him to be. It wasn't that long, but he had the regard of the type to remain focused, at least in situations as confusing and grim as this one.
The ambush hadn't lasted very long. Everything was washed out in your memory, some blank slots, but you could recall briefly that about three or four shots were purged. Magnus hadn't fired off a single round, not wishing to draw any more unwanted attention to himself. Instead, to your utmost surprise, he had transformed and taken off, but not back toward the highway. You had anticipated a full-blown brawl whilst still bleeding all over his hand, uncertain of your fate with how fluidly his hand swapped for a cannon.
Truthfully, you had not expected that.
In his position, he couldn't focus. He needed to have his full attention on whatever was sought out to harm you, yet all he could stare at was your face and the blood that dribbled across the palm of his servo. You were his top priority, and engaging in a fight when there were more prevalent matters at hand proved a selfish and disloyal move. Magnus could not guarantee that this would go the way he wished, but he had to take a chance, even if the odds were not as great as he'd like. Risky maneuvers now were not the same as when he had been on his own. So instead, without cowardice, but control and vigilance, he decides to remove both of you from the situation.
For some reason unbeknownst to either of you, the attackers did not follow. Perhaps it was the unfairness of the dense trees or the likelihood to be seen just off the shoulder of the highway, not enough distance between. Maybe it was a warning shot, your stalker making sure you were well aware that wherever you went, they were to follow. They had every chance to run this unfair fight right into the ground but chose to let Magnus and yourself escape. Whoever it was, they certainly let you both escape, as just by numbers, they were highly advantageous.
Part of you was ready to confront whatever had been stalking the two of you. You wanted to see it fully with your own eyes and maybe hope for once that this was finally approaching an end, whether by this success or someone else coming to his aid. You wanted something out of this, a resolution of some sort, but when Magnus skipped out on the fight, you felt a sense of achievement in some roundabout perception. This storyline didn't end here, even as much as you craved a successful ending, making it evident that Magnus was in control of keeping everything on the rails.
You needed to relinquish that. He wasn't running because he wasn't confident he could win; he made himself scarce because not only were you injured, you had nothing to defend yourself with if he wasn't there to defend you. With what he knew now, the only way to keep the enemy at bay was to blend back into the city streets, away from impromptu battlegrounds. He needed to get as far away from Wisconsin as possible, but the only way to do so without obvious detection was to take main roads parallel to busy traffic. The stop-and-go was making you nauseated at times, but it was the only solution, at least presented to him for a quick fix.
"So the device's coordinates were a dud." You had huffed after heaving your upper body off the backseat of his cabin when he had erratically taken off. "Why are we driving away?"
"You are insane to think I would fight the enemy not only alone but while you are vastly injured." Magnus was unyielding, especially with your disoriented replies. "Is your wound still bleeding?"
All three of his mirrors had been on high alert, caroming around the greenery and then ultimately back to your sore face. Organic wounds were so distinctive, it wasn't far from comparable to injuries of his own. Superficial things could be fixed, metal could be welded back together, but the blood that keeps you alive is matchless to his life force. Feasibly, it was because he's seen enough spilled Energon for seven lifetimes, undoubtedly habitual to it, but has never encountered organic affliction before. You bleed red, streaming down your face to settle on your chin, and Magnus can only watch as you swipe at your nose with the sleeve of your sweatshirt, staining the cloth freely.
Adrenaline must be keeping you upright because he's certain a facial injury like that would have him knocked out and then some. But his processor loves to remind him that he's the reason for your bruise, recalling how your face all but slammed against the plastic of the steering wheel. If he had been a little more alert, paid a better attention-
"I'm fine." You'd argued, becoming impatient with the unknown. "What the fuck are we going to do now?"
After you had woken up from your opportune crash-out, you asked to stop somewhere to get some ice and to tidy yourself. Magnus hadn't wanted you to leave the cabin, let alone be anywhere out of his sight, but with some reassuring and coaxing, he eventually relented, and you headed in to use the bathroom to clean up. Your entire body was achey, and it took every ounce of you to drag yourself across the linoleum to the bathroom. There, you wadded up paper towels and got to work, only for fresh blood to replace the swathes that had already dried.
Returning to the parking lot, you drop down on the curb beside his front tire with a fatigued sigh. Magnus had made a noise of protest, though relented, assuming you needed the fresh air more than he did. After ten minutes or so in silence, you stand on shaky legs, making your way back to the step that leads into his interior.
That brings you to the present, with Magnus attempting to wrangle you once more into going to a hospital. "Pardon?"
"What are we going to do?" You change the subject, voice somewhat hoarse. "We can't keep running forever."
"I must locate a secure area where I can attempt the communication device once more." He gravels, unimpressed by your deflection. "They must have intercepted the signal and inputed incorrect coordinates to set up an ambush. I do not understand how I could have been so foolish."
You hesitate, wanting to reassure, but feeling so burnt out from the evening's events. He doesn't give you a moment to answer anyway, as he presses onward.
"I broke the promise." He spoke so quietly that you would never have known he expressed it if you weren't right in front of him.
"You didn't-" You try, but it wouldn't be the truth if you spoke it.
"I did not keep you safe." Magnus rumbles, interior mirror finally bending in your direction. "You have my sincerest apologies."
"Yeah, and I lied." An ironic laugh escapes you as you lean back against the leather of the seat. "So I call it even."
The sound that emits from his dash is aggravated and not in a playful manner. "How could you even attempt to compare such things? You are injured, y/n, and it is my fault."
"And you're missing part of your bumper." You lean forward, gesturing to his hood. "Don't blame yourself for everything; we're good. We just need to figure out a new plan."
"I thought you wanted nothing to do with me."
This was his misery absconding, weaved with misinformation and lies. He said it because he presupposed that this is where it would end, that you would cut all ties and leave this as a bad and distant memory. You had wanted to do that since the initial meeting, yet he reapproached you each time because he wasn't so ready for this to culminate here. You hadn't outwardly said so, yet part of him still wished he had listened when you had wanted to take your leave earlier.
A lifetime of war makes you desire scarce things. Especially when he was a mech that was undesirable when it came to good company, he found it fascinating that you not only appeared to tolerate his amity but also enjoyed it. Nothing was forced either; you spoke your mind and allowed him the floor to do so as well, a more than equal exchange. An unlikely friendship and bond had formed rather quickly before his eyes, unable to stop it as the protectiveness over you skyrocketed. It's begrudgingly come to his attention that he can't continue with this without you. He can't articulate that vocally, not quite yet, but hopes you'd be willing to recommence the patience that you'd so graciously awarded him.
"There's your problem." You sniffle, hoping to keep a round of bleeding at bay. "You thought."
Unsure of what you mean, he opts to let you explain. "You will have to expand on that. I do not understand."
"You assumed that I wanted nothing to do with you." You start feeling the irritation and discomfort seep from your frame ever so slowly. The change in demeanor is strange because while you had previously felt vexation at the situation, it was never directed at him. It was undue and mislaid, and you suppose an apology is owed just by your behavior. "We've come this far. I'm sorry too. Let's figure it out together."
"How far are you willing to see this?" Magnus inquires, somewhat mystified.
Without hesitation, you return with a smile: "To the end."
After some deliberation and mild convincing, Ultra Magnus suggests getting across one more state before calling it a night. He prompts you to sleep for the majority of the ride, but after another quick nap, you've proposed a small detour.
And try as he might, he can't find it in himself to deny you. Particularly, at least on the surface, everything appeared to be moving in an optimistic and promising direction. No one had tried to run him off the road, not a single sign of another Cybertronian since the last encounter. This was how the trip was supposed to have been carried out, and Magnus can understand why every so often you were itching to stretch your legs. He couldn't, and he was mildly jealous of you in that regard.
The deviation you had suggested was deployed as a secret, though you had looked up the address on your device upon getting close to the location. When Magnus pulls into the parking lot, he's somewhat appalled to find it is an automotive supplies shop, but the shock leaves him when he catches the satisfactory smile adorned on your face.
"Give me ten minutes." Your fingers wrap around the door handle subconsciously, momentarily forgetting that he opens it each time for you. "This is a good surprise."
"Surprise?" He retorts, feeling undeserving.
"Trust me?" You return, calmly tugging the handle twice.
Without another word, the door carefully clicks open, and he watches you down the steps and across the parking lot. He's counting the minutes, painfully aware of his surroundings to ensure no further ambushes, safety now his top priority, alongside you.
It's fourteen minutes when you return with an armful of supplies, an excited expression plastered from head to toe. But he's forced to push aside your elation and is doomed to focus on the small patch of marbled skin on your face, the cut under your eye, and the patches of dried blood that you had missed while trying to clean yourself up. It appears that every time he looks at you, he's forced to see just how badly he botched this venture up, still angry with himself.
He jolts somewhat as you crouch down by his damaged bumper, depositing the small pile of tools on the sidewalk to your left. "Can I-?" You ask, and immediately he knows what you're referring to.
"Certainly." Magnus rumbled, keeping his voice just above a whisper.
At once, he feels your small fingers easily threading through the rather large gouge in his plating. It hadn't hurt, mostly a superficial graze, but it worried you more than it did him. He supposes you didn't know, assuming that injuries like yours would hurt him, displaying your compassion so easily. It's almost a confounded occurrence, as he never knows it's coming and never knows how to react properly.
Magnus comes to find duct tape and something called 'bungee cords' attached to his front, but it's a makeshift solution that assists him in blending in amongst the traffic. With the trauma to his front, it would make him recognizable to the 'cons who ensnared the both of you. Your thoughtfulness knows no bounds; that was extremely discernible in the short time he's come to know you.
"Oh, it looks so bad." Standing back to admire your work, you can only laugh at how shoddily it came together.
"Not at all." He hums, a softness permeating his words. "I am not vain, y/n. This will do nicely, I thank you."
The drive continues, but the silence doesn't last very long. “I have a request if you would consider it.” He’s unusually jaunty about something, but his change of emotion was rather minuscule, something you've eerily grown accustomed to. Magnus had every right to be enthusiastic, as he was finally getting somewhere in this mess, though he never seemed to show true emotion, choosing to reserve that for other triumphs, you infer.
“Sure,” You reply, halting previous fidgeting with the braided strings of a freshly changed sweatshirt, nestled once more in the driver’s seat of his cabin. Instead of focusing on the mirror, your gaze flits to the steering wheel, a laugh brimming at how it spins so effortlessly, even though there was no soul there to turn it.
“Something appeared on my scanner whilst you were inside the store. It appears to be a small Energon bank,” He speaks candidly, but there was no question within such a statement to even appraise.
Your mouth opens, then closes, then opens again as you survey his words carefully, choosing to ask the most prevalent inquiry first. “Okay, I'll bite. What’s Energon?”
“Energon is equivalent to…sustenance, in your terms, I believe. It keeps me online, and it's necessary to consume to keep my health up to par.” His dash lights with each word, a hiccup of something dancing in his tone, but it doesn’t give you the time to decipher it. “Another small detour, but it will bide us some time to formulate a concrete plan. I presume I can work with the communication device there as well."
His sentiment is sweet to ask your permission, as he sounds almost gruntled to ask it. “Understood. How far away is it?”
“Roughly fifteen miles off our current course,” Magnus answers, almost hesitant. “If I wasn’t using my reserves right now, I would not have considered it. It may prove an avoidable problem if we handle this now.”
“Of course.” Nodding along, though you aren’t entirely sure you’re both on the same page on the subject. “It’s not like we have anything better to do.”
A poor joke, but he grumbles, partially flustered by your nonchalantness. “I only ask because we are now knee-deep in this chaos. I seek your approval of things as well.”
“I’m cool with it, Mags.” An ex-vent, annoyed with the nickname but makes no move to argue as he normally would if you bypassed his full name. “Let's do it.”
Even after the ground bridge had closed, the bickering hadn't ceased. It was mostly one-sided, as one mech was far ahead of the other, waving his servo dismissively. "Do you ever stop talking?"
"No," came the defiant reply, but he contributed to the investigation with a simple scan of the environment. "But I can say with confidence he's definitely been here."
When his partner didn’t respond, he joined him where he crouched, entranced by something caked in the grass. "What's that?"
"Organic Energon," the other mech scoffed, clearly annoyed to even entertain the possibility. "Ultra Magnus isn’t alone. If it is true he was here."
#sul tf writes#transformers#maccadam#transformers idw#mtmte#transformers prime#transformers x reader#transformers x human#first contact au#ultra magnus#ultra magnus imagine#ultra magnus x reader#tfp ultra magnus#ultra magnus transformers
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I really wanted to ask you about this:
Do you have any advice of how to develop critical thinking and media literacy?
There are many, many ways you can practice critical thinking, evaluation and media literacy. At its most basic, you can access student resources for lower levels of education like earlier high school years and look at the examples and guidance given there. Rehashing this will often give you a good foundation to build off of and apply.
One of the main aspects of critical thinking involves discerning what is fact and what is opinion. A good portion of media analytics is opinion. What is 'bad' by one person's standards is 'sub-par' or even 'great' by another's. Similarly, the majority of fandom space is opinion-based. The main pitfall of fandom spaces is that everyone wants their opinion to be taken as fact, which is where critical thinking and even basic communication begin to fall away.
"I'm right and you're wrong" and "this is the way it should be, if you do it or think differently, you're wrong" are common roadblocks people run into when engaging with things like media analysis and even basic fandom activities like fanfiction.
'Mischaracterisation' is fanfiction is one popular topic, especially here on Tumblr. What people often fail to recognize is the true creative depth of fanfiction and using someone else's pre-existing characters. Characters as they are in the source material may not make the choices or behave in the ways necessary to activate or validate certain plot material or author intentions in fanfiction. Which is, inherently, one of the main points of fanfiction. Exploring the alternate.
While you might immediately recoil and say "he'd never do that!" you then have to sit back and recognise that that's exactly the point. That this iteration of that character is not meant to directly reflect the source material. Its a re-imagining, a re-interpretation. That doesn't mean its bad. Its simply different.
'Mischaracterisation' is only actually applicable in fandom spaces when someone is trying to insist as a blanket fact that a character would do something or behave in a way that blatantly contradicts their canon behavior, opinions, morals and perspective or deliberately interpreting an action in biased bad faith. It is not actually applicable to fanfiction where creative liberty dictates you can do whatever the fuck you want with a character because you're not trying to claim it as part of the source content.
Questions To Ask Yourself
Am I reacting to [media] emotionally instead of rationally? Is my emotional response to [media] blinding me to the rational or critical approach(es)?
Am I allowing my expectations to get in the way of me understanding [media] fully? Am I forming a biased negative opinion of [media] because it isn't meeting my expectations?
Even if I disagree with [media], do I actually understand it? Can I recognise the reasoning behind choices made or actions even if I don't agree with them?
Am I searching too hard to hidden meaning or purpose in absolutely everything? Can I recognise what is simply passive information/detail and what is active information/detail? (E.g; English tutors saying a character's curtains are blue because they're depressed when throughout the literature its passively reinforced that blue is the character's favorite color.)
Even though I disagree with the statement or opinion shown, is it necessary to argue against it? Is there any benefit to making my counter-opinion known or is it simply a no-end argument? Am I just using arguing as a means of release/fulfilment? Am I treating this person poorly because of their opinion/statement?
Resources
Critical Thinking Exercises & Explanations #1 The Critical Thinking Activity Workbook Early Stage Critical Thinking Games Five Media Literacy Activities Six Media Literacy Ideas
#myfandomrealitea#sephiroth speaks#fandom#reality#fanfiction#fanfic#fan fic#literature#media literacy#critical thinking#education#fandom culture#activities#games#fiction#ao3
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my theory for why Steve's character was handled so poorly once the later Infinity arc kicked in is because most of his humanizing is done via his relationship to Bucky- Bucky being a de facto model for Steve about the kind of hero he wants to become, a guy who saves the weak from being beat up by a bigot in an alleyway -which grounded Steve's heroism in something tangible and real: his respect and reverence for Bucky, his personal hero. it makes the larger-than-life aspects of Steve relatable. even their superhero titles (Captain America & Winter Soldier) are both linked together in that their geopolitical names coercively imposed upon them. with Bucky the imposition is obvious, but Steve never wanted to play a character in the USO propaganda tours (which is where the CA persona comes from) so there was always this separation of his public facing identity & who actual ideals.
but ofc once the MCU started gaining steam- and despite the movie essentially titled 'Bucky & Steve' being immensely popular -TPTB didn't care for Buys story at all (not gonna rehash, we all know how dirty they did Bucky after Cap2) but in doing away with Bucky it also does away with all the nuances & interiority of Steve's character that he had.
Steve's character gets truncated & made short. And not just with the obvious things like Iron Man having most screentime in Cap3 or Steve's roles in IW being cameo-length & ofc EG (not gonna rehash, we all know), but Steve gets ironically reduced to just being CapAm. Steve's humanization & interiority, the fact that his heroism is modeled after Bucky in their youth & the fact that the Cap 🇺🇸 title was imposed on him, all that nuance is gone & instead we get new projects that act like Steve just "Cap" and an out of touch white 🇺🇸 guy who didn't care for anyone & was too busy being a national symbol.
alongside the obvious of Bucky's character being sidelined & nearly erased by marvel, Steve's screentime got drastically reduced & likewise the humanity & nuance of Steve's character disappeared & new projects freely mischaracterize Steve as nearly everything the earlier projects took time to distance him from. Now Steve's treated as unironically the dancing monkey from the USO tours that the 1st movie showed he hated. All bc Marvel didn't care for the fact that his reverent relationship with Bucky humanized the character.
yes. Bucky being constantly mistreated and Steve's character arc turning into what it did in the end are very closely linked.
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While I acknowledge it has some poorly aged flaws in its writing, one thing I have to praise the show Bones for is handling the romance between its two lead characters without constantly trapping them in “will-they-won’t-they?” Limbo.
They have a kid.
They fall in love.
They get married with like 4 whole seasons left to go.
And they’re never broken up just to rehash them getting together a million times. They have ups and downs like a real couple but they’re loyal and stay together, and display amazing chemistry.
Waaaaay too many writers think only the pursuit and the pining are interesting, and that the fulfillment of that pursuit should only happen at the finale, because “oh, well once a couple gets their happily ever after theres no more drama or tension. It’s boring and uninteresting.”
And we need more couples like Brennan and Booth being shamelessly in love and anything but boring and uninteresting on screen together.
#I know Booth is a fed and a Catholic#and I know Bones is worn down into Catholicism#it was written in a very Christian era of television#Superhero writers could still stand to learn from Bones#bones tv#romance#will they won't they#happy couple#writing advice#bones spoilers
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