#I’m just in a range where 1-2 points matter for whatever bullshit reason but like I said I’m fine for literally everywhere I’m applying

[musclesandhammering]

Every Single Issue I Have With S*lki (It’s Not Just The Selfcest)

Here goes. I threatened to post this a few days ago and never did, but I just saw a s*lki stan Twitter account claim that Loki caring about Sylvie more than the whole multiverse was a Good And Romantic thing and it pushed me over the fucking edge, so now you all have to read this. I’ve divided it into categories cause there’s just THAT much.

OOC Bullshit

• First and foremost, no amount of mental gymnastics you do will ever make me believe that this specific Loki- the one that just invaded New York, that just came off a year of Thanos Torture, that just got done being influenced by the sceptre, that was literally in the middle of a crisis already, and then on top of that went through all the trauma of Ep 1- would even be worried about a romantic relationship. That would be the furthest thing from his mind. Go back and watch how he acted in Avengers- you think that guy would abandon his previous mission to become a snivelling simp for a girl he’d just met 3 days prior? Yeah, there’s no universe in which that makes sense.

• “It’s very in character for Loki to fall in love with himself lololol-“ NO, it’s literally not. Out of all the characters in the mcu, I don’t think I can think of anyone that genuinely hates themselves more than Loki. He even referred to all his other male variants as “monsters” and said meeting them was “a nightmare” in this series. He’s got so much self-loathing, plus the fact that he genuinely thinks himself to be an evil backstabbing scourge- so there’s no evidence at all suggesting that he would ever develop a fondness for, or even be inclined to trust, another version of himself, after only knowing them for 3 days.

• Building on that, the whole concept of Loki falling in love with a version of himself just feeds into the annoying ass misconception that he’s a narcissist. No matter which way you stack it, he’s not. If you’re referring to NPD, he doesn’t fit the criteria, and if you’re saying “narcissist” just as a slang term meaning “selfish and arrogant”, that still doesn’t accurately describe him. But when creators like Waldron and Herron do things like having him fall in love with himself, it makes it so much easier for casual viewers to think that he is.

Shitty LGBT Rep

• It’s kinda sus that Loki’s are allegedly genderfluid and yet the only female-presenting variant we see (and apparently the only female-presenting variant there is, cause the male Loki’s all seemed unfamiliar with the concept) is treated as some kind of mind-bogglingly special paradox. Also very sus that, out of all the Loki variants, the one our Loki falls in love with just so happens to be the only female one. What a coincidence.

• The fact that the creators of the show went around bragging about Loki’s bisexuality and Marvel purposefully (lbr) allowed stories about Loki possibly having a male love interest to circulate, specifically enticing queer viewers to watch the show (you know, the definition of queerbaiting), and then instead of having a male love interest (Loki was the first queer main character, so it was the perfect opportunity) they gave us *gestures to this dumpster fire* this… it’s just a middle finger to LGBT fans. The fact that they would rather have this relationship with all its myriad of problems than have a gay relationship is just……. Very telling.

• While him being with a woman obviously doesn’t refute his bisexuality, the fact that they showed/talked about him being interested in 3 different women (flight attendant, Sylvie, Sif) and never even hinted at him being attracted to a man, definitely makes it seem like they were trying to cover up his bisexuality to smooth things over with the more homophobic viewers. You know? It’s like “I know you’re pissed that we sorta confirmed Loki as bi, so we promise we’ll never mention it again! Or even hint at it! As a matter of fact, we’ll give him lots of female lovies and make him seem as straight as possible! That’ll take your mind off of that horrible crumb of queer rep, right? Please please please keep giving us your money!!!”

• Aside from all the other issues, at its core, the biggest reason why I think I’m so irritated with s*lki is that it took one of the most interesting, complex, and diverse characters in cinema atm and squished him into a tired ass unnecessary heteronormative subplot…. Like literally every. single. other. protagonist. ever. Loki is such a unique character, and it’s so so so incredibly disappointing that they stuck him into that same boring cookie cutter romance that happens to every other character in every other movie I’ve ever seen. It’s a disservice, and it’s honestly just not compelling or entertaining at all.

Thematic Issues Galore

• His arc didn’t need a romance. With anyone. It was unnecessary and it didn’t make sense plot-wise. In fact, one of the reasons he was my fav prior to this was because he was the only big-name mcu character whose story wasn’t muddied-up by a romance that didn’t need to be there. So much for that.

• He wasn’t emotionally ready for a romantic relationship with anyone. Hell, just a genuine friendship would’ve been pushing it for him at this point. He was in such a bad state that any relationship he got into would’ve been toxic and unhealthy for both him and the other person, and it doesn’t make sense why the writers would want to put him in one when there were so many cons and essentially no pros (other than “Uwu aren’t they cute together”).

• Sylvie’s character in general was unnecessary and Loki’s character was robbed just by her being there. The whole show became about her post-Ep 2. They spent most of the time giving her backstory, building her up, telling us how awesome she is, trying to convince us to like her, etc when what they really needed to be doing was building Loki up- cause I gotta say, if I had to describe TVA!Loki in a few words, they would be Flat, Boring, and Weak.

• The romance overtakes the plot. They spend time portraying their supposed connection that could’ve been spent adding depth and complexity to literally any of the characters. They make the big Nexus Event them giving each other googly eyes on Lamentis when it could’ve been so many other way more profound things that speak to the fundamental nature of Loki’s. They have the climax of the finale be “oh no she betrayed him to kill He Who Remains” when it could’ve been something way more compelling (Loki having a moral crisis over whether or not to kill HWR, Loki contemplating the state of the multiverse and weighing the pros and cons of freedom vs order, Loki looking into some What If situations and getting emotional about what could’ve been regarding his family, Loki realising the gravity of HWR’s offer and finally coming to terms with how important he is to the universal cycle, etc etc). The entire plot suffered in favour of a romance that half of us didn’t even want.

• It essentially reduced all of Loki’s potential character growth down to “He did it for his crush.” He seemed to at least have some motivations of his own in Ep 1-2 (feeble as they were) but after Sylvie showed up in Ep 3, literally every action he took was just him being a simp for her. Why did he lie in the interrogation? To try to protect Sylvie. Why did he fight the minutemen and Timekeepers? To survive kinda, but mostly cause it was important to Sylvie. Why did he get pruned? Cause he got distracted trying to confess his crush to Sylvie. Why did he try to get out of The Void? Cause he thought Sylvie needed him. Why did he stay in The Void? Cause Sylvie was staying. Why did he try to enchant Alioth? Cause Sylvie told him to. Why did the multiverse get cracked open, leading to an infinite number of Kangs waging war on all of existence? Cause Loki didn’t wanna hurt Sylvie in their fight at the Citadel and then get distracted by her kissing him. It’s uninteresting and honestly pretty embarrassing.

• Throughout their “relationship arc” the writers do their absolute damndest to convince us that we should like Sylvie more than Loki. And you know what? It’s the most hypocritical shit I’ve ever seen. They preach and preach about how Sylvie’s life has been so difficult/we should feel bad for her/she had it so bad/poor poor sylvie/she had it SO much worse than pampered prince Loki…. But then they never even touch on any of Loki’s trauma of hardships (the ones that have been ignored for literally 3 movies now). They frame Sylvie as a good person and a Freedom Fighter after she spent literal decades/centuries mass-murdering brainwashed TVA agents and showing exactly zero remorse for it….. but then they make it their mission to constantly remind us that Loki is a terrible person and constantly put him in situations where he’s forced to acknowledge his wrongdoings/show remorse/admit to how “evil” he is for being a mass murderer for like 2 years. They show him on-screen having a wider range of powers than her, and perpetuate his whole shtick of being a “master manipulator” or whatever….. But then they make Sylvie “the brawn” more competent, intelligent, and physically capable than him. Tell me how it’s a good thing for a ship to be so narratively biased toward one character.

Missed Opportunities

• If they absolutely had to have a romance subplot, then they could’ve paired Loki with one of the characters that have already been established OR one of the characters that were a big part of the whole TVA storyline anyway. It would’ve been so interesting if they’d revealed that Loki had a history with some of the players from previous films (Sif and Fandral both come to mind). It also would’ve been really interesting if they’d given Loki a love interest that actually had some allegiance to the TVA as a whole (Mobius maybe, but not necessarily. It also could’ve been Renslayer or B-15). Hell, imo it would’ve been cool if they’d followed through with that “See you again someday” line that he said to the flight attendant in Ep 1. ALL of these characters have way more chemistry with him than Sylvie, and they were also already relevant to the plot without wasting half the show to give background info on them.

• If they absolutely had to have a hetero-presenting love story involving an enchantress-type figure, then there’s a whole Enchantress (Amora) that was actually Loki’s love interest in the comics. Plus, fans have been screaming for Amora to appear in the mcu for years. Plus, Tom literally pitched an Amora/Loki storyline way back in 2012-13. Also, Lorelei (another enchantress) is also one of Loki’s love interests in the comics, and she already exists in the mcu (she was on Agents of SHIELD). There were several different established characters for them to choose from. Creating a whole knew amalgamation of a character and going with the “she’s a Loki variant” storyline was just completely unnecessary and made no sense.

• They completely robbed us of a Chaos Twins dynamic. Had they handled Sylvie better and not forced her and Loki to smooch, the two of them could’ve had a really really complex and interesting sibling relationship. Loki could’ve stepped into Thor’s shoes and sort of used that new role to gain some self importance, and Sylvie could’ve finally had somebody to look out for her/teach her magic/be there for her. It would’ve been very aesthetically pleasing, the vibes would’ve been out of this world, it would’ve been way more profound than this bs, and frankly it would’ve been much more entertaining to watch.

• Loki’s relationship (read: obsession) with Sylvie completely overshadows all Loki’s other relationships in the show. Loki and Mobius were literally the focal point of the series in Ep 1-2, but after Sylvie showed up in Ep 3, they barely had any interactions with each other, and Mobius pretty much faded to the background entirely. Loki had the beginnings of a pretty interesting antagonistic relationship with Renslayer (with her wanting him pruned, then arguing with Mobius that he couldn’t be trusted), but after Sylvie showed up the dynamic shifted to focus on the history between her and Ravonna. Loki and B-15 started off very badly and openly disliked each other throughout Ep 1-2, and then in the end of Ep 2, Loki showed a little bit of concern for her when she was possessed, hinting that they might be inching toward a reconciliation- especially considering how obvious it was that Loki was gonna uncover the TVA’s sins eventually. There was so much potential for him to be the one to give her her memories back and convince her to change sides, but no, of course that honor went to Sylvie. In fact, after Sylvie showed up, Loki and B-15 never even spoke to each other again.

Various S*lki Fails

• If they were trying to convince us that this affection was mutual, they completely failed. There’s nothing I’ve seen that even hints at Sylvie feeling the same way about Loki that he does about her. At most, I’d say she has a slight endearment to him. She finds him likeable and she’s grudgingly fond of him, but she definitely isn’t in love with the guy. Maybe she thinks he’s cute and hopes that he gets out of this mess alright, but her mission obviously comes before him- whereas, it’s been confirmed multiple times that Loki cares about her above anything else. She doesn’t trust him, she looks at him like he’s an incompetent fool half the time, she shows little to no reaction during most of his confession moments, and she kissed him as a means to distract him so that she could get him out of her way. Look, all I’m saying is, when you get into a relationship where one of you is way more invested than the other, it never ends well.

• This goes without saying for a lot of us, but the selfcest is just straight up odd and cringey. If you’re cool with that sort of thing, fine! People can ship what they want! But don’t pretend it’s not at least a little bit uncomfortable. Yes, I know they’re not technically siblings so it’s not technically incest, and they’re also not technically the exact same person, but they’re similar enough that it makes things weird. And yes I know selfcest can’t happen in real life, so there’s no way to judge it morally, but neither can most of the other stuff that happens in these shows/movies (the Snap, Loki destroying jotunheim, superhero with powers being held accountable, mind control) and yet we still find ways to judge their morality, because they all mirror real-world events. (The snap= genocide; Loki destroying Jotunheim= bombing other countries; superhero accountability= weapons accountability; mind control= grooming and coercion). And lbr the closest real-world mirror to two versions of the same person (who may or may not share DNA, family, backgrounds, physical and emotion characteristics) being romantically involved with one another is incest. And you can be ok with that if you want- that’s your prerogative- but don’t get pissy just cause a lot of us are squicked out by it.

• The whole mirror metaphor (learning self love via each other) thing just fell completely flat. First of all, having Loki learn to love himself by looking at someone who mirrors him did not, in any way shape or form, require them to be romantically involved. But they were. Of course. Secondly, the creators have contradicted themselves so many times on whether Loki and Sylvie are the same or not, that it doesn’t even really register to the viewer that the mirroring thing was what they were going for. Finally, Loki and Sylvie are shown to have so little in common- and to have only the most bare minimum of similarities personality-wise- that it doesn’t even make sense that Loki would “learn to love himself through loving her”. Like? They’re nothing alike. So how would he make the connection that he himself is actually pretty cool, based on her alone? There’s virtually nothing in her that reflects him.

• I know the objective of the entire show was to convince us of how awesome and unique Sylvie is, but honestly her relationship with Loki just did the opposite. A hallmark of a Mary Sue is having her constantly upstage the male lead, and then having him instantly fall madly in love with her anyway. And that’s.. exactly what happened here. Everything they’re doing to try to force her character to be more stan-able is really just forcing her to look more like their self-insert OC. Which is exactly what she is. It would’ve been so much more satisfying if she didn’t have to try so hard to look cool, if they didn’t have to try so hard to make her backstory tear-inducing, if they didn’t have to turn our protagonist into a snivelling simp just to prove how incredible she supposedly is. Very much #GirlBoss energy and we all know how performative and cheap that is.

• The entire thing was too rushed, there was too little build-up, and it was nowhere near believable. As stated above, it’s ridiculously unlikely that Loki would canonically even be interested in Sylvie, and this show did nothing to explain why he was. He just suddenly was. There was nothing they showed us as viewers that would justify a guy as closed-off and preoccupied as Loki falling head-over-heels for a girl he just met. Their was no explanation, no big revelation, no reasoning, it just… kinda happened. And I’m also severely skeptical of any love story that has the characters go in this deep after only 3 45-minute episodes of exposition.

I’m sure there’s other stuff, so if anyone thinks of anything, let me know and I’ll be more than happy to add it. Tagging @janetsnakehole02 @raifenlf @natures-marvel and @brightredsunset800 for expressing interest. This is all your faults.

[tomatograter]

this is probably a dumb question but if HIC preferred jane over jake how come she gave crockercorp to jake before disappearing from the beta timeline?

This happens for a variety of reasons! Let's go over it:

1) Jane cuts ties with HIC once she reaches her mid-thirties. This is where the 'Egbert' comes in. Disillusioned (and somewhat disgusted) with who her mother is as a person and the bloody state of the household, Jane decides to get out from under her wing once and for all. Her plans include having a baby, opening her own small business, and living like a regular person completely disconnected to Betty Crocker and the large shadow it casts over everything it touches. Jane really just wants to live a normal life, and for the most part her wish is granted. She marries into the Egbert family at 47.

2) Beta Earth is basically a lost cause. HIC has utilized this version of the planet as a free-for-all testing ground for her schemes; she has used it to put feelers on social relations, historical events, people of notice — to test alien technology and see how her company fares among humans, but time has run out. The only way she will achieve a true empire is in a new universe - the Alpha session, where she envisions Jane will be properly educated for her role as an upcoming heiress, Jake will be made into more or less a slave, and the course of history can be tweaked and manipulated for her own personal gain. She knows earth B1 is set to end in 2009, but the next one is free real estate. In the meantime, she's setting up the playing pieces on B1 that will aid her smooth transition to B2, and Jake's continuous poking around the lore is one of them.

3) Jake had already been in charge of subsidiary company matters (namely: Skaianet) prior to Jane's change of heart. Initially, the jobs are given to him in a bullshitty "whatever keeps him occupied and out of range" way, but he comes to genuinely believe he's doing competent, important work. The Condesce never stops pulling the strings. In time, his focus drifts from "office job" fully into "investigating alien ruins", and he doesn't look back. HIC regards him as a stupid tool but a tool nonetheless, and when time comes for her to make the jump, he's already neck-deep in silly absurd Sburbian plot bullshit, which she figures can be instrumentalized for her purposes, despite how much he pisses her off. She can just exit stage left, and he'll do all the work.

When Jake finally gathers the final pieces that shine a light on what's to happen (when he finds the Frog Island) it's basically way too late. From that point on it's a race against the clock to Maybe Probably give the kids and perhaps the Earth a fighting chance.

In B1 the game is released worldwide, resulting in a shitton of meteors/sessions/the implosion of the planet, in a vaguely similar way to how Feferi (fail heir x2) winds up creating the dream bubbles to accommodate any stray players in the case of their untimely death, whereas in B2 HIC oversees the plans so only the four kids get into it. She doesn't even spare a thought for Roxy and Dirk, despite the impact she ends up having in their lives. Ironic, considering the way she's going to kick it.

I Hope you enjoy the sparknotes version of all that bullshit (tm), this is how it's mapped out in the archives but I'm leaving out the obviously 'ugh'-tier detail.

[aerltarg]

Maybe this is a stupid question, buuuuut:

I just can't imagine a world that Rhaegar comes back from the Trident, wins the war and becomes king. No, I'm not a anti Rhaegar, matter of fact I like him very much, I'm just can imagine how would Lya, little Jon, this whole affair, would settle in the capital. The norm that fics (at least those I read) tend to follow is to make Rhaegar:

1. A douche, paranoid and destiny-obessed king.

2. Completely incompetent, aloof monarch, that deep down has a heart of gold, but can't really be understood.

I mean, isn't he supposed to be a scholar since he was a kid? What's are your thoughts about it?

oh, yeah, i can totally understand this! it's is the whole point in canon actually, "the wrong man came back from the trident". you would expect a hero win against his antagonist and have a happy ending w his lady love but it doesn't happen. instead the subversion happens to them with rhaegar being killed by robert who becomes obviously a shitty king and lyanna dying after him. they were never supposed to have happy ending, they were created as tragic and doomed and dead from the beginning for the whole plot to start, jon to have his parentage mystery and dany to take the passed baton as the last dragon, prophesied savoir and the heir who has to carry entire house on her back now.

as for the realistic rhaegar wins aus that's the difficult question. tbh we just don't know enough abt their situation, plans and wishes. you see, e.g. in agot we can be right in ned's head and see his motivations, what he was thinking abt, what he was planning, what he was hoping to do. but if his story was told the way rhaegar's was i bet he would have his own crowd of haters and ~intellectuals~ jumping out every two seconds w their "hot takes" how actually all hints abt what rlly happened (ned being a good man w his own sense of honour, justice and experiences affecting him and the deal w cersei's children) doesn't matter and he was an ambitious prick, planned to grasp the power by being joffrey's regent and make his daughter sansa queen. (you can actually insert there any bullshit and still don't reach the level of stupidity of such "hot takes" this fandom loves so much lmao). also he would be blamed to the hell and beyond for being too stupid and not foreseeing the future and actions of other ppl bc ofc after everything happened it's so easy to say what was so obvious to notice. also they would say that the deaths of his men and horrible fates of his kids are 100% his fault and even straight up say he killed them lmao. i can rant abt it for hours so yeah. this is a situation w too many unknown variables bc it depends too much on actions of too many characters we don't know enough abt. the only thing it's possible to tell for sure is the fact that there couldn't be any perfect solutions since things got too complicated at this point.

such fics as you've mentioned tho are just a part of this dumb fanon where rhaegar is "too prophecy obsessed"/"incapable of love"/shrodinger's rhaegar both smart and stupid at the same time/whatever/all of this combined lmfao. the man was notably intelligent from the early age as you've absolutely rightly mentioned, his guesses abt himself being tptwp have nothing to do w egocentrism as some parts of the fandom would want us all to believe unless he wouldn't be so reasonable abt it and later on, after so many years, wouldn't have changed his mind and thought his son could be tptwp.

and literally fuck all antis that think you shouldn't consider prophecies that hold real power in this fantasy world lol. you know, aegon the conqueror was said to be motivated (or at least partly) to unify westeros by the prophecy and still got the treatment of perfect/maximum close to perfect figure of a leader everyone should look up to from the narrative and grrm. prophecy obsessed much, huh? i don't even talk abt all these parallels between him and rhaegar grrm put there not for bitches to ignore them completely! and i will never get tired of reminding that dismissing prophecies is UNWISE for targaryens of all people. the house whose story is built on the dream of young daenys and her father aenar that listened to her despite common sense (or what local "anti magic"/"anti prophecies" clowns consider to be common sense). targs would be as dead as the rest of dragonlords if not for daenys the dreamer. who else in the world has as many reasons to take prophecies seriously as them?

yet antis out there act as if rhaegar is one dimensional weirdo whose every character trait is abt mf ~prophecy obsession~. like how can they miss one of the main points so badly?? the game of thrones distracts ppl from the real danger beyond the wall, yk, the one rhaegar was aware of and meant to deal with. there wouldn't be such a problem if he became king and had as many years of head start before ice zombies apocalypse as ignorant bobby b did. rhaegar had to die just for westeros to sink in shit and our main heroes to save everyone to make this story more epic LMAO

so yeah, too many ppl portray rhaegar as this one dimensional robotic creature without any knowledge of what feelings are idk even for what reason. it seems these ppl can't read for real bc rhaegar was not only intelligent af as well as dutiful ("it seems i must be a warrior" but "he loved his harp more than his lance") but also. ugh emotional?? my boy had constant emo sessions w brooding at ruins of summerhall, sleeping out there beneath the stars all alone and writing songs that made all women cry. does it sound as someone who "isn't capable of love" lol? folks act as if he was completely heartless from the day he was born (bc he didnt play w other kids ig??) but in reality their emotional range is less than the one of a spoon in comparison to rhaegar's lol. i'm not even gonna address the horrible attitude of demonizing him for his implied depression, vile clowns never listen to themselves when they talk abt targaryens and their "madness".

tldr; these fics are mostly lame af and suck at characterization if they're making rhaegar like that lol. anyway his character isn't abt being a good or a bad king, it's abt being a would-be-king for characters in books and readers in reality to sigh over his tragic aura and pretty aesthetic abt how it could've been. however, grrm clearly doesn't write rhaegar as evil or incapable as some parts of the fandom would want to try to persuade others. realistically speaking in the scenario where he wins there couldn't be any perfect decisions but it's a territory of speculations on thin air and lit nothing more since canon doesn't provide us with enough information to rlly theorize anything instead of building biased headcanons some ppl call "analysis".

but remember what barristan said about rhaegar while practically watching him all his life, from a literal baby to the man grown:

“I know little of Rhaegar. Only the tales Viserys told, and he was a little boy when our brother died. What was he truly like?”

The old man considered a moment. “Able. That above all. Determined, deliberate, dutiful, single-minded.” (ASOS, Daenerys I)

“Prince Rhaegar’s prowess was unquestioned, but he seldom entered the lists. He never loved the song of swords the way that Robert did, or Jaime Lannister. It was something he had to do, a task the world had set him. He did it well, for he did everything well. That was his nature. But he took no joy in it. Men said that he loved his harp much better than his lance.” (ASOS, Daenerys IV)

[lapinmiel]

Mirror, Mirror

Felix and OC (Female), 1,8K. (Part 1)

Phoebe’s life was never one of an adventure, even as a vampire — after being discovered by the Volturi for her talent, she finds herself running away from the world’s most powerful organization, and soon she finds herself in a complete lie and truth situation, with the anchor of her lover leading her to his side.

Part 1, Part 2

None of the nights were calm anymore, it was always a chaser behind, and there was always an obstacle to be faced ahead. Days were filled with blood and dread, and she wished she could close her eyes for a night and never wake up again.

He called it “teenage dread” which made her very sad and furious, because she had been alive for fifty years now, how the hell could she have a teenage dread now? She had never heard it before anyway, she was past her teens — more like early twenties, but she didn’t remember her birthday. Her thoughts were like water droplets in a bucket of water swaying left to right, purely disordered.

And now, she was dealing with another threat: the damn Volturi were after her.

The night they realized there was a vampire out there who could mirror any talent was the night her life as a free vampire had ended. She had never seen the Volturi before, but she’d heard about them from Saladin’s stories, and all those were horrible. From executing clans to poaching lone vampires, they gained form as soulless monsters in her imagination, and she was not ready to face them.

And when the night of her planned poaching had come, she was surprised, because even Jane, the little one was a monster in her mind but, she was barely half of her height, which made things complicated for her. She knew she could kill Jane in a heartbeat, it was one of her skills after all, but would she feel comfortable killing a child? She didn’t know, but she realized she would have to do it one day rather quickly.

“Phoebe.” Jane’s dead, stone-cold voice had traveled the air and reached her. “I propose you join us, and we will let your creator be free.”

It wasn’t an easy choice. It wasn’t a choice. Saladin had told her before, the Volturi does not forgive. The Volturi does not tell the truth. If she joined them, Saladin would be dead by dawn, and she would have to spend her whole life serving for three marble like (but much uglier) creatures to death. Her aspirations didn’t fit theirs, and her sense of freedom definitely wasn’t a thing that they could inspire. It wasn’t the right band of people to be sent to offer a union anyway, a little agony machine, a man with eyes of mischief and another one with a door like figure that looked like it would take him a single wrong lettering of a name to crush your skull to a jelly. Besides, the men looked slightly attractive, and it wasn’t for the easy lover like Phoebe to resist men like that easily.

She refused. No hesitation was found in her noise, no twitching of hands — and in a second of leaves falling from the trees, she felt thousands of needles trying to penetrate through her skin. Her mind took action in an instant and the three vampires fell on the ground. She used the chance to turn around and tell Saladin to run away, but he had already, and when she tried running, she felt something around her neck.

The arm, or whatever it was that choked her, felt like a tight rope, much like when she was drowning in her human life. She tried putting her hand around it, but the force was far too powerful for her to slip her hand.

Then she acted out on her instinct, and kicked the figure behind her. The arm around her neck loosened, and she used the moment to run away.

It had been five days since the night happened, and they hadn’t stopped for more than two hours. “If we stop, they will find us.” Saladin had said to her earlier, he told her that the shorter man was called Dimitri, and he could find anyone, anywhere. He couldn’t risk staying in a place more than a couple of hours because he knew the Volturi would bring a whole army to poach Phoebe, and it wouldn’t matter whether his shield would be working or not. They had penetrators anyway, and he wasn’t looking to die in at least three hundred years from that moment on. They were running for hours, hunting, and running again. Saladin knew the Volturi were tracking their footsteps, and Demetri was on their necks like a crow.

It had been three hours since they’d stopped on a mountain in north Asia, and soon, it was going to be the time to move.

Phoebe had been thinking to say something for days, and the mountain range, which she didn’t know the name at, gave her the feeling of what would happen if I said, it doesn’t matter, and she wanted to go for it.

“You know what, Saladin.” She said in a breath. Saladin was busy with finishing his food. “I’m gonna say it.”

He looked up with curious eyes.

Phoebe poked the hand of her victim on the ground to fend off nervousness.

“You are the reason that we are running away now.” She looked up at Saladin. His eyes showed no emotion other than curiosity. “If you hadn’t put your shield down on the forest, we wouldn’t be here. We would be looking for Zareen like you wished.”

Saladin, licking the blood on his lips, got up and stood on the place like a mannequin. Phoebe was relieved now, because her thoughts had reached the belonging place, and now she could deal with his bickering for a couple of days. Better than keeping thoughts in a locked up place.

“Well, I am.” Much to her surprise, Saladin wasn’t angry. “But you must accept that it wasn’t intentional. I was distracted by the human. If I wasn’t, nothing would have happened.”

“Yeah, that’s the point.” She said. “If you weren’t. You should keep your guard up all times. You hadn’t one time, and we are being hunted down by the Volturi and you are probably going to get burned like a witch at a stake as if it was the Middle Ages!”

“I’m not you, Phoebe! My talent doesn’t work on its own, I have to focus on it.”

“I know.” She was feeling guilty for telling him what she thought now. It felt ungrateful.

“It doesn’t matter. We will survive this.” Saladin took a step towards her and put his hand on her shoulder. “We are going to find Zareen, and we are going to erase our existence from our world.”

He smiled, and embraced her tightly.

She knew it wasn’t completely his fault. She knew that it was a distraction that caused this all, yet, she couldn’t forgive him completely. No, it wasn’t a matter of forgiveness — it just felt wrong. It felt wrong that after living fifty years in peace, she now had to run away, and if they couldn’t find Zareen, they had to do it for their whole life. God knew how long would that be.

She was already getting bored with her life. Living in the shadows, hunting people, overpowering every being on the planet, being indestructible. A weakness was lacking, and her talent didn’t help at all. She was presumably the luckiest person in existence, and perfection was boring after spending decades being it.

After Saladin released her from his hug, they started running again. Hours and minutes were as light as a bird’s feathers, and later, they found themselves in the southern regions of the continent.

After hours of running, they stopped again, another mountain by a big city. Saladin felt like the place was quiet enough for him to catch any sound that sounded peculiar, and Phoebe thought that the trail around the mountain was the perfect place to hunt humans. They quickly ran around the mountain for a possible prey, and they fed on him to his last drop of blood once they found him. Within seconds, they felt powerful again.

In that little euphoria of feeding, Phoebe caught the glimpse of a plane flying right above their head. Her eyes glimmered. She turned and looked at Saladin to see whether he was thinking the same thing, but no, he definitely was thinking about his meal.

“Saladin.” Her voice brought surprise to Saladin again.

When he looked at her, she pointed upwards to the plane, but still, Saladin’s eyes were oblivious as ever. Maybe it is his old age, she thought.

“We can use planes.”

Saladin furrowed his brows.

“We can use planes to stop the Volturi from finding us. We’ll sneak into the cargo compartments during take off, and you’ll use your shield throughout the journey. When we land, we feed and look for Zareen. Then the Volturi will be confused.”

Saladin finally understood. Phoebe often felt like following him was a mistake, because despite his brilliant plans, he was often too slow at understanding her plans.

“They won’t be able to track us without thinking that something is wrong.”

“Yes!” Phoebe’s excitement was flowing through her veins. “No vampire uses technology. And I wasn’t born a thousand years ago.”

Saladin gave a quick smile. They agreed on the plan, and they quickly finished their meals. They arrived at the airport soon after. Phoebe offered playing a little game to choose which plane to sneak in, but Saladin, being his no-bullshit self, refused it, and choose the biggest plane. The logic behind it wasn’t clear to Phoebe, because he had never traveled by plane before, how could he know which plane flew where? Phoebe didn’t know it either, but judging from the size, it was likely going to America.

The plane they chose came to the runway about an hour later. They were waiting by the airport fences. When he felt ready, Saladin told Phoebe to run and lead him. She did as he wanted — just when the plane was about to start its engines, she run and entered the plane from the back tires.

The space was enormous, and Saladin look terrified. He knew he wouldn’t die even if something happened, and he knew that planes were completely safe after what Phoebe told him about them, but being in such a foreign object was giving him an extremely uneasy feeling, as if he was a human again and was sick with nausea. Taking off part felt like he was flying, not the machine, and after spending long hours, lading felt like falling.

The terror in his eyes when Phoebe told him to hold on to somewhere on the top of the compartment was remarkable, and Phoebe couldn’t contain her laughter when he saw him looking like a little scared puppy. While they were holding to the cables and parts of the plane, the tires got lowered, and for once Saladin felt thankful for his vampirism. At least I won’t be crushed by this thing, he thought.

Just as when the plane was getting out of the runway, Phoebe and Saladin jumped off the plane and run to the nearest fences. They jumped through them, and started running again.

It took a couple of seconds for Phoebe to realize it wasn’t morning and that they didn’t have to run away. She slowed down and told Saladin to do the same too. He came close to her to get her in his shield.

But it didn’t take long. The feelings that settled in Phoebe was not relaxation, but fear.

Because the signs on the streets didn’t read any English words. The people around them were not speaking English either. It was melodic, much more than her own language. And it was terrific too, because they were trying to run away from their hunters, not land in their homeland.

From the Writer: Just a heads up, my first language is not English and I struggle with choosing tenses when writing. If you see “had been” mixed with “was” or thing like that, please inform me. I can’t really differentiate them. By the way, Phoebe is not read the regular “Phee-bee” way, it’s more like “Pho-ee-bee”, because that’s how I pronounce it lol.

[ourloveisforthelovely]

One Chance (one shot)

Harry Potter Marauders Era 

Request:  hey so i was thinking could you might do a regulus x reader where the reader is like sassy or maybe all cold hearted? i honestly love ur page but i cant never relate with the reader bc she is always too soft 😭 maybe like if they understood each others depression and then end up falling in love? idk how to explain

To the annon who requested this: I hope that you enjoy

Pairings: Regulus Black x Reader 

Rating: M

_____________

“Y/n, Regulus Black has been looking at you for the past 10 minutes.” 

You didn’t bother looking up from your potions book when your friend Anastasia spoke. The last thing that you wanted to deal with was Regulus Black and his stupid good looks. 

“He needs to look somewhere else.”

You commented. Regulus Black had been staring at you a lot lately and it was beginning to get under your skin. Before a few weeks ago Regulus had nothing to do with you. It didn’t matter that the two of you had always been in the same house for the past 6 years or that the two of you had friends in the same circle. In fact, he took extra measure to not speak to you. 

The best that you could come up with was he was uncomfortable with you going on a date with his old brother. Your heart hurt thinking about that particular time in your life. That was when you were an innocent sweet 4th year. Sirius dated you for all of a week before dumping you for some pretty Ravenclaw with blond hair and big boobs. 

This was also the time that your depression really started kicking in. You weren't quite sure how to deal with all of the feelings swirling through your head. From dealing with your first break up to all of these dark and intrusive thoughts...you didn’t know how to cope. None of your friends seemed to understand either. A few of them chose to ignore what you were going through. The rest didn’t know how to deal with constant sarcastic comments. Now you had a few that stuck with you because it was in their best interest. If someone bothered them, you would chew the miserable fuckers ass out that caused them grief. This was a healthier outlet than sinking a knife into your arm. 

Being at home was no better. Your mum tried to constantly get you off of the couch to do things but she didn’t seem to understand that you wanted nothing to do with whatever she was doing. Her words of…

“Stop lying on the couch like a giant hairball and do something. Go enjoy the day.” 

Apparently you mother didn’t understand that you definition of “enjoying the day” meant being left the fuck alone. 

That is one of the reasons that you preferred being at school. You could find peaceful places to be left alone.

Anastasia spoke again, pulling you from your thoughts. 

“He probably thinks that you are pretty, Y/n. You really are a lovely girl.”

“Go get your eyes checked. Anna, I have as much luck with boys as a turtle does crossing the road.” 

You muttered as the bell rang. 

Not a moment too soon. 

You thought as you stood to gather up your things. You were getting away from Anastasia and her mind numbing questions. Walking to the door you ran into a hard body. 

Looking up, Regulus Black had turned around to just who the fuck ran into him. He blinked a few times the moment that your eyes met. 

“Watch where you are going, Black.”

You hissed. Regulus automatically frowned. 

“You ran into me.” 

“So, you aren’t moving fast enough?”

You replied, not missing a beat. Regulus seemed a bit surprised by your comment. He wasn’t for sure why you were hostile toward him. In all of the years that he had known you, with the exception of year 1 and 2, you acted like he had personally fucked you over. 

Regulus couldn’t help admitting that you were a lovely girl but your sarcastic hostile nature was a bit off putting. He had decided the year before just to avoid you at all costs. This year, however, he understood more about you. You were as depressed as he was. Regulus never understood it until this year. 

Over the summer, Sirius ran off to James Potter’s abandoning his family. Regulus didn’t know how to put into words how he felt about it either. There was sinking in the middle of his stomach that never seemed to go away. It was there when he went to sleep at night and was waiting when he awoke the next morning. Regulus honestly never thought that he would be happy again. 

He figured that returning to school would soothe those feelings. Regulus would be back with his best friends and would have no reason to think of Sirius. Unfortunately, the moment that he stepped into the great hall and saw his brother sitting at the Gryffindor table smiling and laughing. There was clearly no sadness in Sirius over the events of the summer. This sent Regulus into a deeper depression. His brother didn’t miss him and never would.

“You know most people just say excuse me and go on about their business.” 

Regulus replied. 

“Just get out of my way.”

You hissed and moved to get around him. Regulus honestly didn’t deserve your venom. He, after all, had done absolutely nothing to you. 

He hasn’t done anything to you but you have no reason to trust him. Regulus will probably be just like his brother. You’ll get attached and have your heart broken. 

You thought. It wasn’t fair to compare Regulus to Sirius when they were obviously such different people but you couldn’t help it. Most guys, no matter the house, was the same. 

As you walked down the hall, you wanted nothing more than to have some time alone. You decided to walk down to the lake. A free period was just what you needed! 

Sitting down, you took out a book and quietly began to read. It wasn’t until you were on paragraph two did you realize that someone was standing in front of you. Looking up, again your eyes met Regulus Black’s. 

“What now, Black?” 

You questioned. He put his hands on his hips feeling a bit annoyed. After the exchange in the potions, he decided that it was time for both of you to have a little chat. 

“You and I need to talk.”

“Whatever about?”

You questioned as he sat down. 

“I want to know why you hate me so bad?”

“I never said that I hated you.” 

Regulus chuckled. 

“Sure could have fooled me. You are always glaring at me like I personally offended you.” 

You put your book down. 

“I just don't like being oogled by some guy who is going to screw me over.” 

Regulus raised an eyebrow. 

“You don’t know me.” 

“Yeah, I know your brother. All guys are the same so it doesn’t matter who you are.”

The response came out a little snipper than you planned. Standing up, you turned to storm back to the castle. Just who the fuck did Regulus think that he was? So what if he was a member of the Black family? 

Woo-freaking-who.

“First, off you don’t know anything about me. I am nothing like my brother. If you would give me a bloody chance you would see that. I see what you are doing Y/n. I get it you use sarcasm and cold humor to cope. I do it too. As much as you want to come across as this tough girl who doesn’t need anyone, you're actually quite lonely…again I get it.” 

You stopped before turning to face Regulus. He sat with his knees drawn to his chest. Dark eyes looked up at you with an intensity that you had never seen on his face before. 

“I don’t like this, Regulus.”

He smirked. 

“You don’t like someone figuring out who you are, Y/n. You don’t want people seeing that inside you are actually in pain. Again, I can relate.” 

Regulus stood and walked down closer to the lake. 

“My brother, who I know that you dated and I know he did you wrong, he abandoned our family over the summer. Now...everything is up to me. I am the only heir to the Black family. I have to do everything and I don’t fucking want to. I want to do whatever it is I want and there not be repercussions for my actions. However, that won’t be able to happen now.” 

You frowned and watched him curiously. 

“And why is that? Why can’t you just walk away? You’ll be an adult soon. Tell them to fuck off.”

Regulus laughed. 

“If only it were that easy. You see my mother, she depends on me and I can’t let her down. If you knew my family, you would understand.”

You had heard plenty of rumors about the Black family. Regulus’ mother sounded like the typical pureblood mother. Maybe a bit darker than what your mother was but a pureblood mother all the same. 

“I’m sure our families are very similar. Lovely bunch, purebloods.” 

Regulus laughed bitterly at that. There wasn’t much that was lovely about being a pureblood when your mother was Walburga Black. 

“Then you will understand why we have to do things that we don’t want to do. For example, being a death eater.” 

“Regulus…”

He automatically pulled up his sleeve to show you the dark mark on his arm. Regulus wasn’t surprised when you made no facial expression. He had a feeling that you had seen your fair share of dark marks lately. 

“My mother and father were okay with me doing it. Actually, they were quite proud that their son was doing the right thing...the just thing. I think I am too...at points. There are other times that I am not for sure. I see your face. You have the same expression. I bet you about 10 galleons, if you pull up your sleeves there are going to very similar cut marks...sometimes it gets too much.” 

You looked down. For the first time, your tough exterior faded. 

“You do it too...cut your wrists?”

Regulus nodded. 

“Physical pain is better than mental pain, at times. Maybe we understand each other more than we thought?” 

Your crossed arms slowly dropped to your sides.

“Maybe. We could also really hurt each other.” 

Regulus’ hopeful smile fell. 

“Or help each other. I don’t know what my brother did to you but I’m not him. Sirius and I have nothing in common except our last names. I mean, our last name is literally all that we have in common. You’ll get stupid bullshit with him. I’m on my A game. You wouldn’t have to guess what you were to me. All that you have to do is give me a chance. If it makes you feel better...I know where my brother is about this time of day and...well...sometimes Sirius isn’t so bright.” 

You snorted. 

“You could say that again. Fine, you have a chance. Don’t mess it up Regulus.” 

Regulus held out his hand with a small smile. Something told you to be wary. The depressive side said, no but something deep inside of you said yes.

You reached out and wrapped your hand around Regulus’. He gave you a small smile before tugging in you with him.  

“This is going to be funny.” 

You slipped through quiet corridors behind Regulus as he checked for any “little eyes” that would get into his way. He finally stopped the moment that he saw Sirius and James standing in an empty hallway playing “exploding snap.”

Regulus lightly elbowed you in the side before grinning. He had his wand out and muttered something low. You weren’t able to make out what he said but it didn’t matter. It looked as if someone had a bucket of water and dumped it all over Sirius and James. Both boys jumped back looking around wildly as another explosion of water knocked them off of their feet. James hit the ground first. Sirius reached out to help his best friend only to get hit in the face with water for the third time. He was knocked off his feet and directly on top of James. His elbow crashing into James’ crotch. James howled in pain as Sirius started rubbing his head where he hit the stone floor. 

“Pads, stop. You're killing me!”

James shrieked. Sirius was yelling about how truly sorry he was over and over. 

You, meanwhile, had to hold back a fit of rare laughter. Regulus, himself, was grinning as he turned the floor to ice. Both James and Sirius were sliding all over the place all the while screaming curse words after curse words.

“Whoever you are! We are going to fuck you up!” 

Sirius yelled as Regulus reached down and squeezed your hand. 

“This is where we make our exit. They are going to be sliding around for a while.” 

You ran after Regulus, until he pulled you into an empty classroom 

“That was fun.”

He commented. 

“Fucking brilliant. Watching them slide all over the place while looking like drowned ferrets was the best fun that I have had in awhile.” 

Regulus smiled, giving you a cocky smile. 

“That’s only the beginning. I have a lot better material...if you want to watch.” 

You reached up and pulled the taller boy down by his tie. Regulus was clearly a bit surprised but leaned right into the kiss. When he pulled away, you tossed your hair over his shoulder. 

“Watching is for babies. I want to help.” 

______

@amelie-black

@truly-insatiable

@fandomsxxregulus

@realgaytrash

@spiderxalmighty

@lucasfilms77

@exhsle

@knreidy1

@jessyballet

@whymyparentscheckmyphone

@criminalyetminimal

@brokencasbutt67-writer

@authoressskr

@fandom-trash-worth-it

@hankypranky

@summer-novak

@shaylybaby2032

@emiwrites3reads

@li0nh34rt

@tas898

@stuckinsaudi1

@shadows-and-padlocked-hearts

@knight-of-gleefulness

@untoldshortsofthefandoms

@sprnaturallover

@deanwherescas

@shitfaceddaniel

@wontlookaway

@mycuddlycorner

[blueaura]

Lost and Found Ch. 8

A/N: Hello again! This chapter is a little shorter than the last couple of chapters but I hope you enjoy it nonetheless. Thank you for the feedback on the last chapter, it means a lot. Also, I’m making a seperate tag list for people who would like to be tagged in all of my supernatural stuff (one shots, dabbles, other series etc.), so let me know if you want to get on that. Also, Also - if any of you have any requests for one-shots or the like, I’d love to do that. Thanks to everyone who’s read and re-blogged it this far. As always, any tips and suggestions are welcome. Feedback would be amazing. Thank you and happy reading!

Summary: Sam and Dean meet a young hunter who is a little rough around the edges and they reluctantly take her under their wing. But she might be a little more connected to them that any of them realise. 

Word Count: 1.8k

Chapter 1 Chapter 2 Chapter 3 Chapter 4 Chapter 5 Chapter 6 Chapter 7

Chapter 8

To Dean it felt like it took forever.

He watched Cas’s hand glow as if he were healing her, not even daring to breathe. Sam stood beside his brother in support. Cas had his eyes closed in concentration. Dean was looking worriedly at Y/N but she didn’t look like she was in any pain. He trusted Cas with his life and knew he would never knowingly hurt Y/N, but worrying came naturally to him and he had to make sure she was safe. There was an instinct there that he was usually used to associating with just his brother.  

Cas had only wanted to see her soul but as soon as he put his hand on her, he was bombarded with her memories. Her thoughts, her pain, her experiences – they were so loud. He had never felt so crippled by a human mind before. He was surprised by the intense anger he felt on her behalf. The girl didn’t seem to harbour much anger herself – there simply wasn’t any place for it beneath the fear, uncertainty, loneliness and hurt. He saw her memories like he had once seen Dean’s when he pulled him out from hell. Once he was sucked in, he couldn’t get out until she let him even though he felt like he was somehow violating her privacy. But, if he ever had any doubt that there was a part of Dean Winchester in this girl, the burning determination underneath everything else would have been enough to remove it. Even without seeing her soul, shining as brightly as her father’s.

Y/N was expecting pain even after Cas assured her that there wouldn’t be any. What she was not expecting was the warmth. It felt like she was bundled in the softest blanket and nothing could hurt her as long as she stayed in the cocoon of that warmth. It was bright light and hope and love and like nothing she had ever felt before. She almost didn’t want to let it go but she could feel the sensation trying to pull away from her. She chased it until she couldn’t. She didn’t know how long had passed before she came back to Earth, so to speak.

Cas’s hand slid from her forehead down to her cheek momentarily.

“I’m sorry for the hard life you’ve had Y/N. You are truly an incredible human being and I vow to protect you to the best of my ability from here on. I shall not let any harm befall you.”

The intensity of his words surprised her but she didn’t say anything. Dean, on the other hand, balked at the words.

“Wait, what just happened?” he asked, looking from Cas to Y/N and back again.

“What’s with the vow of protection? Is this some kind of Twilight imprinting bullshit?!” Dean’s voice grew more hysterical with every word, making Y/N muffle a snort.

“Dude, why the hell do you even know what that is?” Sam asked incredulously. Dean ignored him in favour of glaring at his friend.

Cas turned away from Y/N to give Dean his best imitation of Sam’s bitchface.

“No, Dean. I didn’t imprint on your daughter. I can assure you I have no intention of mating with her,” Cas sarcastically dead-panned, which would have normally impressed and even amused Dean but his brain had stopped working at that moment.

Daughter. Daughter.

Fuck.

There was a ringing in his ears. He could hear Sam calling his name, could feel the weight of his hand shaking his shoulder, but everything was muffled – the only thing he could focus on was the fact that he had a fucking daughter.

Of course, he had known it was a possibility – that was the whole damn point of the angelic test, but now… it was real. He was a father. Just like that. In that moment – he fucking hated Sandra.

Sam would have loved to say that Dean reacted maturely and focused on Y/N and didn’t freak out at all, but father or not, he was still Dean Winchester. So, Sam wasn’t all that surprised when instead of making sure his daughter was alright, Dean stormed out in the direction of the shooting range, or so Sam assumed. He knew his brother and he knew that it was how he processed things. Working on his car or shooting stuff was Dean’s way of dealing with the news and Sam was just grateful that he didn’t choose to turn to the bottle instead.

He watched Dean walk off but instead of trying to reason with his brother, he turned towards the other person affected by the news. His niece (Holy shit, he had a niece) was frozen in place, her eyes not really focused on anything. Cas looked at him worriedly and Sam realised that Cas hadn’t meant to drop the news in such a way. He smiled at him reassuringly, and walked to where Y/N was still standing.

Instead of calling out to her, he gently guided her to the library and made her sit down on a chair. She didn’t react at her which didn’t necessarily surprise Sam but worried him nonetheless. Cas brought a glass of water from the kitchen and Sam quickly thanked him before setting it down on the table and kneeling in front of Y/N.

“Kiddo? Hey Y/N, are you alright?” he instinctively asked and winced. Of course, she wasn’t alright. Her entire world had just turned on its head.

“Y/N, you with me?” he tried instead.

She looked at him without really seeing him. He had to repeat the question a couple of times before he even saw a hint of acknowledgement in her eyes. He waited patiently until she finally shakily nodded her head.

Her throat was dry. She reached for the glass of water blindly. Sam quickly picked it up and placed it in her waiting hands, watching as she took small sips.

“Where’s…” she trailed off, sipping at the water again just to have something to do.

“Probably in the shooting range. He’s… processing. But I guess so are you,” he said uncertainly.

“You have a shooting range?” She was clearly avoiding the big elephant in the room, but Sam didn’t take the bait.

“I’ll show you later,” he dismissed the topic change expertly. “How are you holding up?”

“You mean after learning that my mother lied to me my entire life?” she spat out. Sam winced at the tone but ignored the hostility, only squeezing her shoulder in response. She deflated at the lack of a fight. He simply waited.

“I don’t know,” she said finally. “I wasn’t expecting… I know you were all but convinced but I wasn’t. San- my mother always gave me the impression that my father was dead. Until a few minutes ago, I didn’t even have distant relatives that I could call family. Now suddenly, I… I don’t know how to deal with that,” she said, frustration heavily lacing her voice.

Sam noticed the hesitation at her mother’s name and stored that little piece of information for later. His heart went out to her, it truly did.

“Look, I can’t even begin to imagine being in your position right now. Or Dean’s, for that matter. Hell, I’m still reeling from the fact that I have a niece, and I’m not even the one directly affected by this! So, I cant tell you how to feel or what to do. That’s up to you. What I can tell you is that you’re family now, Y/N. That word has way more weightage in this household than it probably does anywhere else. So, whatever you’re going through, you won’t be alone. I’m here, Cas is here and when he eventually gets over his little temper tantrum, Dean will be here too,” Sam smiled wryly.

Y/N chuckled a little even as emotion clogged her throat, shaking her head at Sam’s attempt at levity. She was suddenly pulled into the tightest hug by Sam, but this time she refused to cry. She’d had way too many breakdowns in the past few days and she’d ignore the stinging in her eyes and the burn in her throat if it was the last thing she did.

Instead, she sniffled into Sam’s plaid shirt, realising this was the second time in as many days that she was in this position. She chuckled at that, and instead of pulling away burrowed herself deeper into the comfort of the embrace.

Sam squeezed her tighter and kissed the top of her head. This was his niece. He was a fucking uncle! What did uncles even do? She was probably too old for toys. He also didn’t see much pranks in their future, at least for a little while. He could teach her he supposed. She clearly needed education and didn’t seem particularly thrilled about any form of formal institution. Yes, he would be the brainy uncle, who answered all the questions. He could do that.

Eventually, she pulled away. Seeing the hopeful expression on Sam’s face, she managed a weak smile at him, trying to tell him that she would be alright.

“I think I’m going to get some sleep and… process all of this. Let me know if De-Dean comes back soon,” she stumbled a little, not entirely sure what to call Dean anymore. Was ‘Dean’ inappropriate? It was way too soon for anything remotely in the ‘Dad’ ballpark. She put it away as a problem for later, not wanting to deal with the headache that accompanied thinking about her new family.

“Yea- yeah! No issues, kid. Get some rest. Dean will probably be a couple of hours. Cas already went to him earlier. He’s good at making Dean sort through things. I’ll probably head over there myself in a few,” he said assuredly.

“What’s up with that anyway?” she asked, her earlier curiosity making it harder for her to keep her mouth shut.

“What’s up with what?” Sam sounded confused.

“Cas and Dean?”

Understanding dawned on Sam’s face, immediately replaced with a look of long-suffering exasperation. Y/N giggled at that, making Sam smile subconsciously at the sound.

“If you ever figure it out, let me know,” he sighed and with a last kiss to her head, walked away.

Y/N shook her head and walked up to her room. She once again took stock of all the things that supposedly belonged to her. The mattress was the softest she’d ever slept on. She had her own freaking room. She had food to eat and clothes to wear and a couple of guys who cared more for her than what she thought she was worth.

Maybe, just maybe, this wasn’t so bad.

TAGS: @vicmc624​ @carisi-sonny​ @zizzlekwum​ @geekqueen5​ @mondefantastique​ @lemondropirwin​ @hamildork​ @mrswhozeewhatsis​ @singingsongbird1318​ @strrynigxts​ @only-for-cee​ @now-its-time-to-get-funky

If anyone else would like to be tagged, please send me an ask (: Thanks for reading!

[adrunkgiraffe]

I have been through this journey before, so I get to be actually frustrated about it.

IUnder a read more because im not subjecting y’all to this. Also: I should caveat I haven’t watched the episode cause I’m waiting till its on Netflix but I have watched way too many other episodes of Supernatural so I have a right to say these things. 

TL;DR: I mean you all knew Cas’ confession was fucking bullshit and that SPN is...hm. But I’d like to actually express my genuine frustration, for a moment? I’m going to say things you already know, but I have too much knowledge of this show and too much stupid meta in my brain about a series I haven’t genuinely enjoyed for at least 5 years which makes this not just blandly bad but disgustingly insulting to me not even as a gay just as like. A writer?

Or, even shorter: Cas’ confession is just a Charlie Bradbury Speedrun 

So. As some of you may know if, for some reason, you followed me back in 2013 (and till...okay fine 2015), I used to be, uh. Really into SPN. Really, I was into Destiel. Like, as in, I slogged through seasons 1-3 to get to Cas and am also really vulnerable to the Sunk Cost Fallacy and projecting onto characters. (I was in 8th grade in 2013, okay? Get off my back)

Also, because I monopolised use of the TV, I kind of...also got my parents into it? In a “this is silly but fun” kind of way.

Over time, critiques of the show from viewers, learning what queerbaiting is at all, fatigue with how long it was going, and also fatigue from how characters I enjoyed, like Rufus, or Crowley, or Ellen, or Jo, or Kevin, or Charlie, or Cas a few times, kept getting killed off. As time went on, it didn’t escape my notice that, aside from Cas, all of these characters fit one or more of the following criteria:

They were a woman

They were a person of color

Were Queer or Queer-coded in some way (listen Crowley was bad rep but at least Mark Sheppard actually kissed a man on screen)

I also just...generally got tired of the way the show treats women and sidelines people of color. 

The final straw really came with Charlie’s death. It got us all excited, because she hadn’t been back in a bit! And it was interesting to see how reuniting with her dark side from Oz had changed her! (yeah remember the fucking Wizard of Oz storyline? The writers sure don’t!) And maybe she’d get developed! Because at this point, Charlie and the fairly good writing of her character was a major upside for the series! Charlie was cool, fun, gay, and morally complex in a way...none of the female characters had been before her, in large part because by definition, her relationship with the boys would always be platonic.

And then. Offscreen. She is violently murdered. For no damn good reason. Like, literally, her being brought back in this episode after fucking off to europe after having returned from fucking off to Oz seems to have filled two purposes in total. 

The codex is solved (but Sam doesn’t know till next episode)

Charlie is dead, which means Dean can be angry, specifically at Sam, and kill more people because he’s the big bad this season. 

That’s it. Two things. Twooooo whole reasons to do this episode. Whoopee. 

But you didn’t come here for this, you came here for me to rip this reveal to shreds. Don’t worry, I’ll get there. What I want in your minds is that Supernatural already had a really good anddynamic queer character. And then they killed her off to make Dean angry. No, it doesn’t matter that they brought her back in season 13 or whatever. They made that decision. 

After the rage this incited, I started realizing general flaws in the writing (I had probably already noticed them but now I was angry enough to complain.) Every conflict is born of Sam and Dean not communicating/taking on burdens and Dean being angry at Cas for reasons that ranged from good to ridiculous, but in a way that always went way too fucking long, (which...yes, does make the “you do it for love” gifs fucking hilarious). It didn’t help that seasons 11 and 12 were next, which meant Demon Dean and GOD’S FUCKING SISTER, plus the decision to resurrect Mary, which, while I do like her later scenes, as a season 12 finale it...well I’ll be honest it kinda sucked. It undercut the majority of the Winchester’s’ arcs and their slow and painful journey out of their father’s toxic vengeance quest and knowing Mary as a person when it’s too late to know her was one of the last semi-compelling grounders of the narrative. 

By this point it was a hate-watch for my parents and I.

So then, I’m at college, and I’m not watching anymore cause I don’t have the motivation or access to Hulu to continue, and SPN is bad. I watch the Scooby Doo crossover when it comes out and my friend and I make fun of it, and we also continue making jokes about Dean and Cas and queerbaiting because we’re queer, but I don’t keep up. My Dad does though, so when I return, I watch some with the fam and lads. It’s even more tiring without context. 

So flash forward to Quarantine, my sister, the only one with taste, has left, and we have run out of netflix to watch. So we return to the well, and seasons 13-14 are. I’m gonna say it. Bad. Really fucking bad. The cycle of bad communication continues, season 14 has like seven antagonists and the way it’s structured makes it so I literally cannot remember the timeline of a season I watched 3 months ago. Oh also, they have a queer coded cannibal snake monster for...well I guess Jack’s snake bud was cool but like. Huh wow it’s almost like these writers don’t handle queers well. 

Our one saving grace is Cas, but he’s barely in any episodes, though I did note that his deal with the empty, being happy completely for one moment killing him, that struck me as “this has potential and I know they’re gonna half-ass it somehow.” Also Jack and Mary, but then oh...plot….The most compelling it gets is literally the finale.

But then, 3 days later, the first half of season 15 comes out on Netflix and it’s...actually kind of acceptable. The new character they give Jack’s actor is fun to watch him play until they make him evil. Exploring just how toxic Chuck can be gave the series direction again. The alternate future was genuinely scarring, and Eileen’s return was genuinely moving. Most of all, though, Cas got the opportunity to tell Dean no, that Dean was being unfair to him, had always been unfair to him, and he was sick of it. I had no illusions, I knew Destiel was never gonna happen, and Cas was gonna die, but giving him that bit of agency, letting Cas grow and be self-sufficient, and be angry with Dean not for existential reasons but interpersonal ones, was such a good sign for me, and Dean grew too! Dean fucking apologized for being horrible and Jensen Ackles had a...yknow what, ill give it to him, he had a good acting moment. 

But the thing. About. The “I love you.” 

Let’s take it in parts.

What was good: I’m gonna admit it, lads, “Wanting what I can’t have” - AS A LINE - is good, and, structurally, there is something to the Empty Deal that could have been an interesting aspect of Cas’ arc when it comes to self actualization and being on even footing with Dean. The problem is, this is Supernatural, and that arc only comes up when I bring it up because character study, even in bad media, is fun for me. 

What was bad:

I mean. Like. All of it? All of it. 

Okay. Fine. I’ll be specific. 

Cas dies immediately when - possibly because- he is revealed as having feelings for Dean. They kill him as they queer him, that’s a Bury Your Gays Speedrun right there.

Like the least they could have done is have him mention it to someone in another scene or something to establish some romantic feelings on the part of canon a full episode beforehand. That would have been the literal bare minimum. 

When Cas starts praising Dean, for some reason both the writing and Misha’s acting take a bit of a downswing (from...where it already was). Cas, whose most powerful moment this season was acknowledging that Dean’s anger at him is cruel and unfair, flatly praises him for doing everything out of love and it reads with a misunderstanding of both Dean as a character and Cas’ understanding of Dean. Dean is angry! VERY ANGRY! And it’s a problem he needs to work on and rarely does. 

Talking out of my ass, a better speech would have been about how Dean is angry because of his love for Sam, family, and the people around him, how, for better or for worse, he can’t help but be angry on behalf of others, and that his journey of moving that tendency towards the better is what made Cas care so much. Guys this alteration to the metaphor took 2 minutes to write tops I am an Art History student and these are TV WRITERS WITH YEARS OF EXPERIENCE CAN YOU TELL THEYRE NOT TRYING YET? 

A better speech would, of course, have come out of a better series. My point: this part was half-assed. Poorly written. Wow it’s almost like the series is also poorly written. 

 Also, Misha is the better actor of the three(***OF THE THREE), but his choices in that scene are jarringly out of character which. Makes the bad writing worse. It doesn’t help that they cut to the same fucking shot of Dean 3 times. The chemistry in that scene makes it feel so fucking hackneyed. Because it is. 

This combines lead me to the point: (wait there was a point to this?)

As someone who does not have the luxury of watching this capsized ship fall into boiling seas from a distance, it is less insulting to me that they did this so last minute and then sent Cas to the Void than it is how they did it. They had ingredients for something that could have been compelling enough to me as a former fan of the show to think that they had put effort into it, that they had decided months, perhaps even years ago to do this, and had crafted a storyline around it. That this was an intentional decision they cared about. It wasn’t. It was barely even pandering, because it’s almost insultingly blatant. 

SPN kinda proved to me that it didn’t care about queers when Charlie was killed off. It proved it to me again when Cas, not only died in confessing his love for Dean but did it in the weakest result of what could have been a surprisingly strong story.

[douchebagbrainwaves]

THE LAST ONE MIGHT BE THE MOST IMPORTANT INGREDIENT IN A STARTUP IS AMONG THE PUREST OF REAL WORLD TESTS

This probably accounts for a lot of experience themselves in the technology business. The experience of the SFP suggests that if you let motivated people do real work, they work like watertight compartments in an unsinkable ship. You don't give up as much equity as VCs wanted. An essay is supposed to suggest efficiency.1 Then instead of coming to your office to work on your projects, he can work wherever he wants on projects of their own angel rounds. But most young hackers have neither. The spammers wouldn't say these things if they didn't sound exciting. Not even investors, who have in the past.2

The first courses in English literature seem to have done stuff with peanuts.3 But due to a series of meetings, culminating in a full partner meeting where the firm as a whole says yes or no. You can take out the whole point if you need to do this when they can.4 If you want to create for a newborn child will be quite unlike the streets of a big company. 99 respectively, and a lot of experience themselves in the technology world know what usually happens when something comes along that can be done by bad programmers is choosing the wrong platform. Investors have no idea how much better we could do, is this the one with the best chance of making money. And being charming and confident counts for nothing with users.5 So I'm going to try to get into second gear.6 You might say that it's an admirable thing to write great programs, even when this work doesn't translate easily into the conventional intellectual currency of research papers.

I'd only seen in zoos before. I was still ambivalent about business. The 2005 summer founders ranged in age from 18 to 28 average 23, and there are plenty of societies where parents don't mind if their teenage kids have sex—indeed, where it's normal for 14 year olds to become mothers. When you judge people that way, and there's a simple solution that's somewhat expensive, just take it and get on with building the company.7 They switch because it's a recipe for succeeding just by negating.8 But actually being good. How do you find surprises?9 Maybe they made you feel better, so I read it, and that it therefore mattered far more which startups you picked than how much you learn in college depends a lot more appealing to most of us than pandering to human weaknesses. If you're going to make the most money are those who aren't in it just for the reasons everyone knows about. People trying to be cool and maybe make money.

But by no means impossible. But you should realize you're stepping into dangerous territory. But most young hackers have neither. My parents were pretty good about admitting when they didn't know things, but I can't believe we've considered every alternative.10 The best stories about user needs are about your own. It would certainly be convenient, but you have to be the new way of delivering applications. The route for the ambitious in that sort of thing to be in the building a certain number of hours a day.11

Instead of trying to teach it to people, I'd say that yes, surprisingly often it can. 15981844 spot 0. We all thought there was just something we weren't getting. Which means, oddly enough, that as you grow older, life should become more and more surprising. An essay can go anywhere the writer wants. It's because liberal cities tolerate odd ideas, and smart people by definition have odd ideas. A nerd's idea of paradise is Berkeley or Boulder. One of Silicon Valley's biggest advantages is its venture capital firms. What if both are true? It was remarkable how different they seemed.12 The reason is not just that he'd be annoying, but that they're driven by more powerful motivations.

Foreseeing disaster, my friend and his wife rapidly improvised: yes, the turkey had wanted to die. People. It does not seem to have looked far for ideas. That seems the wrong model. But I know the power of the forces that have them in their place, but it goes fast. We're just finally able to measure it. Nearly all wanted advice about dealing with future investors: how much money should they take and what kind of x you've built. Sex I believe they conceal because they'd be frightening, not because you did something wrong.13 Someone is going to have nearly the pull with the spam recipient as the kinds of things that spammers say now. So on demo day I told the assembled angels and VCs.

I found that the Bayesian filter did the same thing the river does: backtrack. What would be a good idea. The effect of unpredictability is more subtle. But it's the people that make it Silicon Valley, what you need to impress are fairly tolerant. It's like the sort of distribution you'd expect, the number of nonspam and spam messages respectively. Now that we know what we're looking for, that leads to other questions. But we knew it was possible to start on that little because we started Viaweb on $10,000.14 And having kids is our genes heading for the lifeboats. The user doesn't know what it means to have gone to an elite college; you learn more from them than the professors.

Notes

Unfortunately the payload can consist of dealing with money and disputes. Mueller, Friedrich M. And journalists as part of this essay, Richard Florida told me that if he ever made a better education. In-Q-Tel that is exactly the opposite way from the 1940s or 50s instead of admitting frankly that it's up to two more investors.

While the audience at an ever increasing rate to impress are not very discerning.

5 seconds per day.

By heavy-duty security I mean no more willing to be when I became an employer, I advised avoiding Javascript. And though they have because they suit investors' interests. This is one of them was Webvia; I was as late as 1984. But they also influence one another indirectly through the buzz that surrounds a hot deal, I mean no more than just reconstructing word boundaries; spammers both add xHot nPorn cSite and omit P rn letters.

On the other. Though nominally acquisitions and sometimes on a road there are no misunderstandings. Looking at the leading scholars in the sense of things you want to lead.

Some of the techniques for discouraging stupid comments have yet to find someone else start those startups. If the Mac was so great, why not turn your company right now. Google is that you're small and use whatever advantages that brings.

Security always depends more on not screwing up. Until recently even governments sometimes didn't grasp the cachet that term had. Note to nerds: or possibly a lattice, narrowing toward the top schools are, which have remained more or less, is due to the modern idea were proposed by Timothy Hart in 1964, two years, but not the distinction between money and disputes.

Monroeville Mall was at Harvard Business School at the end of the venture business, and I had zero false positives reflecting the remaining power of Democractic party machines, but it's hard to get all the investors agree, and tax rates will tend to be. One valuable thing you changed. These were the impressive ones. The solution is to start startups who otherwise wouldn't have had a broader meaning.

Not one got an interview, I'd say the raison d'etre of prep schools improve kids' admissions prospects.

On the other seed firms always find is that there is some weakness in your own mind. On Bullshit, Princeton University Press, 1965. Us 10 million and we'll tell you them.

Conjecture: The First Industrial Revolution was one in an era of such high taxes? One of the magazine they'd accepted it for you to stop, but a lot, or want tenure, avoid casual conversations with VCs suggest it's roughly correct to say now.

You have to admit there's no lower bound to its precision.

So it may be useful in cases where VCs don't invest, regardless of the word I meant. I'm sure for every startup we funded, summer jobs are the most dramatic departure from his family how much of the economy, at least a whole department at a friend's house for the others to act through subordinates.

At one point in the chaos anyway. I don't know who invented something the mainstream media needs to learn to acknowledge as well. Robert Morris says that the only audience for your protection.

[tessisawriter]

What Real Support Looks Like, Part 1 (Mat Barzal)

Part 2 / Part 3 / Part 4 / Part 5 / Part 6 / Part 7 / Part 8

A/N: This originally started out as a happy story about Mat Barzal and Jordan Eberle’s bromance, but it turned into something far more important. I was heartened to see Jacob Trouba support his fiancé’s career to the point where he was willing to move to another country for her. For that, I deeply admire him, and I wish more hockey players would support their S/O’s like that. To everyone who reads this story: don’t let anyone tell you what you can and can’t do. Pursue your dreams no matter what. And you deserve true love, so don’t settle for anything less.

I also created a playlist of songs that have influenced me throughout the series.

Warnings: Swearing, angst, alcohol, sexism

Word Count: 2.8k

Gemma Sullivan smiled as she put the last touches of makeup on her face.

She had been dating Mat Barzal for almost two years now, and she couldn’t be happier. They were each other’s best friend, and they supported each other in everything they did. Gemma lifted him up when he had a bad game or when the Isles were losing, and Mat had been her biggest cheerleader through college and supported her career aspirations. Gemma was going to graduate from college in three months, and then apply to master’s programs to earn an MA in history. Before she could even apply, though, she had to finish her senior thesis. She just took a major step forward this morning when she handed in her full draft for her advisor to edit. Today was also her 22nd birthday, so Mat was going to take her out to a fancy restaurant to celebrate.

Honestly, Gemma was happy that the draft was done because this past month, she had been writing so much that she’d barely been able to spend quality time with Mat. She couldn’t wait to get back a semblance of normalcy, and tonight would be the beginning of that.

Gemma walked out of the bathroom and into hers and Mat’s bedroom, where her red dress was on a hanger. Red was Mat’s favorite color on her, and she bought the dress for that reason. She wanted to surprise him. Gemma slipped it on and zipped it; thank God the zipper was on the side and not the back. 

She looked at the clock on the night table, and it read, to her surprise, 8:30PM. Their reservations were at 8:45, and Mat was supposed to be home at 8, so she didn’t bother setting an alarm to make sure she stayed on schedule. Was it possible that he forgot? Gemma immediately shut down that thought. There was no way he forgot; he was probably just running late from hanging out with Tito. She grabbed her heels and sat on the bed, putting each shoe on. As soon as she was done, she heard the front door open.

“Babe?” Mat called, but his voice wasn’t clear like it normally was.

“Where are you?” he called again, and when Gemma heard his staggered footsteps coming towards the bedroom, her heart dropped.

“Hey, babe, there you are!” Mat wasn’t just drunk: he was absolutely hammered. His hair was disheveled, and his eyes were glazed over. He approached the bed and gave Gemma a sloppy kiss on the top of her head, and she smelled his breath, which reeked of vodka. This kind of behavior was completely out of character for him, and she could barely believe her eyes (or her nose).

“Babe, what happened? We have dinner reservations in 15 minutes,” Gemma said, concerned.

“I was out with Tito and some of the boys,” Mat replied, “And it was totally epic!” He dissolved into a fit of hysterical laughter and stumbled into Gemma’s lap. Not wanting to smell of alcohol, she shoved him off and onto the bed next to her.

“You look so sexy. Is this all for me?” Mat asked.

“We’re supposed to go out to dinner in 15 minutes,” she repeated.

“Why?”

Gemma’s heart sunk even further.

“It’s my birthday, Mat,” she said.

“Oh yeah, I forgot.” He looked at her, expecting an answer, but she was silent, trying to keep herself from crying. Presumably to fill the silence, Mat said, “Whoops, my bad,” and started laughing again.

His laugh set Gemma off.

“You forgot? You fucking FORGOT?” she exploded. “I’m generally easygoing, but today of all days? Really?”

“Jesus, Gem, relax. We celebrated it on another day last year, so we can do it again this year.”

“Are you saying that you’re bailing on dinner tonight?” she asked.

“I’m not bailing, I’m rescheduling. It’s no big deal.”

“No big deal?” she yelled, “No big deal? Are you kidding me right now? It’s not just my birthday; I handed in my thesis draft today. But you probably forgot about that too,” she added bitterly.

“That goddamn thesis is the reason I haven’t seen you for weeks on end!” Mat yelled back. “You’re always busy writing, or reading, or whatever you’re doing. Sometimes I wish you weren’t going for your master’s.”

Gemma’s mouth dropped open. She couldn’t believe he just said that.

“What the fuck is that supposed to mean?”

His eyes widened. He must’ve known he crossed the line, but that didn’t stop him from opening his mouth again. “I don’t know, you just work so hard, and you don’t have to worry about money because I’ll take care of you.”

If Gemma wasn’t seeing red before, she was now.

“This is not just about money, Mathew. Yes, I want to be able to make some of my own money, but if I wanted to be rich, I would’ve gone into computer science or finance. I’m really passionate about history, and I need to be fulfilled intellectually. You said you understood that when we first met; you even said that you love how driven I am!”

“I do, but…”

“But what? There are no but’s. You either support my career or you don’t, and you clearly don’t, so we’re done!”

Gemma took her heels off and threw them on the floor before retrieving her backpack, overnight bag, and a pair of sneakers from the closet. She shoved the sneakers on her feet and started ransacking the drawers. As she took out essential clothing and stuffed it in her bag, Mat just sat there on the bed.

She started to zip up the bag when Mat said, “Where are you going?”

“Where am I going?” she parroted back, incredulous. “Oh, so now you care. How generous of you,” her voice dripped with sarcasm.

“This is our home,” he replied.

“No, it’s your home now,” she said with a calm and even tone that surprised her. “You promised that you would support me and my career no matter what, but you clearly didn’t mean it. Don’t bother trying to call or text because I don’t want to see you.”

And with that, she picked up her two bags, walked out of the bedroom, picked up her car keys on the table in the foyer, and opened the door, slamming it as she exited.

Gemma ran down the stairs as fast as she could. As soon as she stepped outside, she was greeted with pouring rain.

“Oh, this is just perfect!” she muttered to herself. She forgot her umbrella in the apartment, and there was no way she was going back there, so she raced to her car, hopped into the driver’s seat, and slammed the door. She threw her bags on the back seat before turning on the ignition and pulling out of the driveway.

She drove down the road to the next intersection, and after turning right, she pulled over. As soon as Gemma stopped the car, the floodgates opened. Her life was in tatters. The man who she thought would always be there for her stabbed her in the back. She felt so alone, and when she remembered that she was homeless now, she cried even harder. Where was she going to sleep tonight?

She restarted the car and began driving to the Eberle residence.

When Gemma first started dating Mat, she didn’t expect to get a best friend out of it, but that is exactly what Lauren Eberle became. Right from the start, she and Lauren hit it off due to their mutual low tolerance for bullshit, and an epic friendship was born. She had been her rock through everything, and Gemma knew that she could ask her for advice on anything, no matter how uncomfortable the subject. Lauren’s husband, Jordan, was Mat’s closest friend on the team besides Tito, and Gemma was fond of him as well. He taught her how to play the guitar.

She could only hope that now that she broke up with Mat, they would still be there for her.

Gemma came to a stop in front of Lauren and Jordan’s house less than five minutes later. It was still raining heavily outside, so she grabbed her bags and walked to the house. She already looked like a drenched rat, so why bother running?

She reached the door and rang the doorbell. When the door opened, it was, to her intense surprise, Jordan standing at the threshold. She assumed that he was with Mat and Tito when they went out.

“Gemma? Happy birthday! What are you doing here?” Jordan said.

“Thanks. I’m sorry to bother you, but is Lauren home?”

“Yeah, she’s inside. Come on in.” He held the door open wide, and she entered the house.

“Lauren, Gemma is here!” Jordan shouted, and then said to Gemma, “You’re soaking wet! You should take off your shoes and socks, they’ll make you feel even colder than you already are.”

“You’re right, thanks, Jordan,” she said, holding her tears back with great difficulty.

“No problem,” he replied, and he left as Lauren entered the foyer.

“Gemma, happy birth…” Lauren stopped talking as soon as she saw the dripping girl. “What happened?”

“Mat and I, we…we got into a fight,” Gemma started sobbing uncontrollably.

“Oh, sweetie, I’m so sorry! Let’s get you some dry clothes and we can talk about it, yeah?” Lauren said.

“I brought clothes with me,” Gemma managed to choke out and gesture to her bags in between sobs.

“Let’s go get you dry.” Lauren put her arm around Gemma and led her through the house to hers and Jordan’s bedroom. Gemma opened her soaked bag and pulled out a pair of sweatpants, an old Trinity College Dublin t-shirt from her semester abroad, and a thick pair of socks. Lauren sat on the bed patiently as she went into the bathroom to change. She emerged, and the two of them walked back to the living room and settled into the couch. Gemma could see Jordan in the kitchen due to the open layout, and he was rustling through the cabinet where they kept their glasses and cups.

“What happened?” Lauren asked. “I thought you two were going to dinner to celebrate your birthday and thesis draft.”

“We were supposed to, but Mat showed up 15 minutes before our reservation completely drunk. He said he went out with Tito and some of the boys.”

“That’s odd. Jordan has been home all evening, and he generally goes with them when they go out.”

“Well, they went out without him, and Mat forgot my birthday. He said we could go out another day, and when I protested, he went on a rant about how he hasn’t seen me in weeks due to my thesis and…and…” Gemma started crying again.

Lauren put her arms around her, and Gemma sobbed into her shoulder.

“What did he say?” Lauren asked when Gemma pulled away, a hint of nervousness in her voice.

“He said that he wishes I wasn’t going for my master’s degree, and that I don’t need to have a career because he can ‘take care of me,’” she formed air quotes with her hands for emphasis.

“What the fuck?” Lauren said.

“I’m going to kick his ass when I see him tomorrow,” Jordan chimed in, walking into the living room with two mugs. He handed one to Lauren and one to Gemma, and she saw that he made tea.

“I figured you were going to be talking for a while, and you were so wet when you got here, Gem, that hot tea seemed to be in order.” Jordan said, sitting in the armchair perpendicular to the couch, giving her and Lauren a little space.

For the first time since her fight with Mat, Gemma’s heart felt warm and fuzzy.

“Thank you, Jordan. Seriously, what would I do without you? Either of you,” she said, turning to Lauren. “I’m not going to lie, I thought after I told you we broke up, you might not want me here.”

“You’re my best friend, Gem,” Lauren said, “You are always, always welcome here, and it doesn’t matter who you’re dating.”

“I second that,” Jordan interjected. “You’re like a little sister to me.”

“Guys, you’re going to make me cry again,” Gemma said, putting down her tea on the coffee table before hugging Lauren.

“We’re always going to be there for you, Gemma. You can stay in the guest room as long as you need.” Lauren said.

“I already put your bags in there,” Jordan added.

“Thank you, both of you. God, I sound like a broken record.” She laughed, and they laughed with her.

“So what happened after he said that?” Lauren asked.

“I broke up with him, took as much as I could carry, and left,” Gemma replied, and she picked up her mug and took a sip of the tea.

“I just can’t believe it. He always talks about how proud he is of you, that you’re going somewhere in life, and that he loves how passionate you are,” Jordan said. “But if he’s so threatened by you, you did the right thing breaking up with him.”

“You think he’s threatened by me?” Gemma asked.

“I don’t know what exactly his problem is, but that’s the closest thing to what you described,” he answered. “I know you’ve been busy this month, but every relationship gets tested that way. You deserve to know what real support looks like and someone who isn’t going to get scared when the going gets tough. You are the smartest person I’ve ever met, and you truly are going places, Gemma Sullivan.”

“Aw, Jordan,” she said before she stood up, walked over to the armchair, and hugged him tight.

“Thank you, for everything,” she said into his shoulder.

“No thanks needed, it’s the truth.” Jordan replied, pulling away and hitting her arm playfully.

“He’s right, Gemma,” Lauren said. “Everyone admires how passionate and determined you are, not to mention your brains. Someone is going to treat you like the queen you are, even if it isn’t Mat. Speaking of him,” Lauren continued, “What did he do when you were packing to leave?”

“He just sat there on the bed, but when I was about to leave, it seemed to hit him that I was leaving. He tried to say it was our home.”

Lauren and Jordan listened intently, thinking she had more to say, but she didn’t.

“That’s an odd thing to say after one hurts their girlfriend’s feelings so badly,” Lauren said.

“Yeah. I guess he was too plastered,” she muttered, and then she yawned.

“You look exhausted,” Lauren commented.

“It just hit me all of a sudden,” Gemma said, looking at her watch, which read 10:01, “I guess you really can cry yourself out.”

“Why don’t you go to sleep?” Jordan suggested. “You’ll feel a lot better in the morning. Well, physically, at least.”

“It’s 10 o’clock, I don’t go to bed this early.”

“Maybe you shouldn’t fight it. Your body needs to recover from today,” Lauren advised.

“You’re right,” Gemma said, “Good night. I can’t thank you enough for letting me stay.”

“It’s our pleasure,” Jordan replied.

Gemma turned away and walked down the hall towards the spare bedroom, but she stopped and turned back around, only to watch the couple in the living room. Jordan was now on the couch with his arm around Lauren, and he kissed the top of her head. Gemma smiled; she really didn’t want to ruin the moment, but she had to address one more thing.

“Hey guys?” Gemma said, and they looked up at her.

“Yeah?” Lauren said, furrowing her brow.

“I don’t expect Mat to get his shit together tonight, but if he comes here or calls to ask where I am, could you please tell him that I’m not taking him back and will pick up the rest of my stuff when I figure out a new living arrangement?”

“Of course, Gem! We won’t let him get anywhere near you, I promise,” Lauren said.

“Thanks.” She smiled at them and walked into the spare bedroom.

After she got into bed and pulled the sheets up to her chin, Gemma realized that today wasn’t completely horrible. Lauren and Jordan had shown her what real support looks like—putting a roof over her head when she showed up on their doorstep and giving her great advice. Sure, she suffered a nasty breakup, but in the process, she realized just how amazing her friends were, and she couldn’t be more grateful to have them. She knew the days, weeks, and months ahead were going to be really difficult, but she was ready to face every challenge that came her way.

@averytiredlawstudent @star-adorned @theforevermorereject

[adecila]

Game of Thrones – 8x04 “The Last of the Starks” episode analysis – or who the fuck ever let D&D write stuff

You know I am pretty much like this dude here –

so I will be the woman to lead this ship or so help me all the old gods and the new.

Spoilers, d’uhh.

Aftermath - but everyone has their wardrobe on fleek, hair looking fab and they even had time to clean the entire field of Winterfell

The episode starts with the funeral pyre and how DARE you make me love Jorah even more and twist the knife in my heart. And did you have to show me Theon, Beric, Edd’s and Lyanna’s bodies??? 

RUDE.

Jon is doing a big speech and it is nice and drove the sobbing further, but I get it this is Jon’s turf so he has to be the one making the big speech. That is such a Dany thing though, and I can’t help to think, when put into perspective with the rest of the episode, that it’s yet again a thing Dany has lost. But more on that later. 

The pyres are lit, sad music, more sobbing from me. OOOPS BUT DID YOU CATCH THAT JONERYS EXCHANGE OF LOOKS? Because I did! I can’t help but think how he looks at her for reassurance and she feels it and she turns and she is just.so.broken. And then she cries and I cry again. 

A feast for crows the survivors 

And then we get a feast and suddenly everyone is happy and stuff… ok, I guess life goes on. Maybe Sandor’s crass remark, under the guise of a funny moment, was meant to make us think on it. But maybe that’s too deep for D&D who the fuck knows. 

Let’s talk about Gendry’s legitimisation. 

Dany does it quite publicly, and small exchange between her and Tyrion makes sense. Honestly, if she hadn’t done it herself then and there, it would have come up at a later point, but with 2 episodes left there’s no time. S.ansa does her shady looks because she throws shade and Bran just stares into the void smh. 

In which I am the Hound unimpressed and eating his chicken. 

Davos x Tyrion

The Lord of Light fucked off into the sunset when he saw D&D’s piss poor writing and honestly same. He probably fucked off when he saw Melisandre was still getting his prophecies wrong. 

Every time S.ansa comes into frame my soul leaves my body a bit more because whY THO. 

Tyrion x Bran the 3ER

Cool beans Bran, that’s how you use you abilities? OMG JOJEN FUCKING DIED FOR YOU–

“I mostly live in the past now” - to me this means Bran has become this empty shell of a man and he just visits the past and checks out cool shit. It’s like a kid who gets access to YouTube for the first time. Heck he can even see his dad or whoever else he misses if he feels anything at all now. Because if he doesn’t even have “wants” then? What was the point of it all? God I swear the writers will not rest until they will have reduced all characters to tropes and empty shells of their former selves.

Tormund and the gang around Jon; Tyrion with Jaime ; Dany alone

This scene right here was the beginning of the end. Remember when Tormund was a dude who was in awe by strong women? D&D don’t. He suddenly is so far up Jon’s ass nothing could take him out. Guess it pays off for him in the end since Jon just gifts him Ghost.

S.ansa just fucking stop OMG PLEASE STOP WITH THE FUCKING LOOKS JFC.

But where was Missandei??? Why was Dany alone? And what the fuck was that look, VArYs?? Someone give Dany a hug because my god the isolation is real. Fuck. STOP. TAKING. EVERYTHING. FROM HER.

Never have I ever… thought the writers would stoop so low but here we are

So it’s all fun and games until it isn’t. 

Poor Tormund. Jaime never deserved Brienne and that’s a fact. 

And the mystery of Willa, the sassy Northern girl has been solved! Bless!!!

SanSan, but with more misogynistic undertones than you ever thought

Yeah you know what, I am not touching this scene. Fuck D&D for daring to say that.

Gendrya - or the moment Gendry decided to pull a Ted Mosby 

I feel so bad OMG they did this ship so dirty. However. Arya saying that was expected. But I call bullshit on her never rethinking her decision. Girl’s got a list and she just can’t NOT try to finish it, I mean, wouldn’t you? After you killed such a big boss as the NK? 

At the same time, they would be trying for faux feminism, pulling a Arya doesn’t need a man to be happy. Guess the sex was just to try it? Wow can you believe they cheapened this ship and that beautiful moment like that? 

I’m so sorry babies, you deserved much better. Guess Gendry was always meant to have his heart broken by a Stark girl once he became a Baratheon. Wow. 

Weirdly enough!!! And spoiler maybe?? Leak? Idk. But I feel like Gendrya will prevail (also because she looks heartbroken to reject him like that…). When asked if Gendrya will rule the 7K, Friki said no, these two aren’t made for ruling anything. For what’s worth, Friki mentioned he does know Arya’s endgame and shebis confirmed alive in the Dragon Pit in 8x06 :)

Oathsex

Uff yeah I did not like that. It felt wrong in the context and it felt cheap and I…. yeah IDK. And then Jaime leaves. He could have at least told Brienne that he is he only one who can kill Cersei or IDK, but not leave her like that. Jeesh dude my poor Knight, she is gutted by him. 

Jonerys makeout and chat and hey who wanted angst? Turn on your location I just wanna chat. 

Sooo flip side: I somehow, for the second time, predicted a thing in my fic. HOWEVER D&D keep only getting half my fics because GURL DID YOU NOT GET THE SMUT MEMO? AND THE FLUFF MEMO?

So Dany goes to find Jon, again, who is tipsy, and Jon suddenly remembers to give Dany some comfort for having lost Jorah… 

The set up for Dany saying ILY it’s a bit .. ehh. But her actual words: “He loved me, but I couldn’t love him back, not the way he wanted it. Not the way I love you. Is that alright?” 

A+ scene. I love how he can’t help himself and as soon as she is in his arms’ range he just pulls her into him, BEFORE she asks “Is that alright?”. 

Uff emo side note here, this scene and this phrase reminded me of this song. Listen and sob. you’re welcome.

On that depressive note, wow that make out tho. Two things I learned from this scene: 1 - Jon is horny drunk, which same; and 2 - Jon is a tiddies guy like he dove in and went for the tiddies, which also same. Am I Jon? Is this why I keep guessing his fucking reactions but D&D won’t give me the rest????? We’ll never know.

And… then Jon stops and pulls back. And I KNOW that in the BTS we are told he is disgusted or whatever along those lines, but to me?? That look means he is CONFLICTED. And listen, if y’all wanted it to make it to mean "disgusted" then you should have made Kit do it differently since YOU KNOW HE WAS FAKE GAGGING TO EMILIA EVERY OTHER MINUTE. YOU CAN’T KEEP ADDING SHIT LATER YOU FUCKING DUMBASSES YOU EITHER PUT IT IN THE ACTUAL  SHOW AND THE ACTUAL ACTING OR STFU.

But I guess to me that rejection was more for the general audience than for us. C’mon he clearly loves her, his dick was so hard he was about to nut then and there. Stop bringing your 21st century considerations into a feudalistic fantasy where you have Royals and dragons. Also FUCK YOU VARYS BECAUSE EVEN IN THE NORTH AUNT AND NEPHEW MARRIED SO FUCK YOU BALDIE.

I digress. Then Dany echoes what Jon himself thinks/said - wishing she would have never known. And then we get something that I felt when she was alone and sad at the feast. “I saw the way they looked at you. I know that look; the same way people looked at me, but never on this side of the sea” - yeah so I need a break.

This here - cemented for me what I think the show is doing: stripping everything away from Dany: her armies, her children, her people and the love her people have for her… then Jon. And I don’t mean that as in the sense of some bullshit fleak. No, I mean it in the context of this episode. Because Jon never says I love you back (and maybe @normalisjustafairytale is right and Jon is afraid to say it after Ygritte), and he rejects her, and he says he can’t NOT tell his sisters, even if Dany begs him not to. So in a sense, for now at least, Jon is being taken away from her. So you have all this isolation and losing and losing and then what does she have left? The only constant in her life? The fucking Iron Throne. Because at the moment there is nothing else for her and she probably feels like she will be nothing without it. Hence why she presses to go and take Cersei down. I won’t lie to you, it is cheap writing and very lame and honestly I have read fics a million times better than this bullshit, but they will, at one point, hit us with the boatie reveal, and when that happens, and when Jon fucking finally pulls through and stands by her side, she will have something else, a different constant in life. Moreover, because she realises that the people here in Westeros will never love her, she will have even more of a reason to bow out, say a big fuck you, take her boatie and her hubs and get to her house with the red door. 

This is not just wishful thinking, it is very much D&D, and they will of course “humble the powerful woman” (I puked in my mouth by writing that). But also, my consolation is that with this episode, heck even the people who weren’t necessarily her fans, are on her side and asking her to burn KL down. Which I don’t think she would, but more on that in a different post. God this post is already long.

*bathroom break*

BAck. Then Dany echoes what I also said in my fic ugh I hate myself what we all know and are thinking: it doesn’t matter if Jon doesn’t want it; it matter that there are people out there (fucking S.ansa jfc this fucking UGGHDGugduzdahidfg) who don’t like Dany and will support Jon immediately over her. She is right and he is stupid for not seeing it. 

I guess I also got my bending the knee from my fic. Kinda. FUCK.ME.

I cannot believe that my Queen had to BEG him and Jon had to be so naive. BOY DID YOU NOT UNDERSTAND THE LESSON FROM YOUR FATHER? Two can keep a secret is one of them is dead, Jonno. Did you not watch Pretty Little Liars??? Why the fuck do you think Ned Stark didn’t tell his wife?? LMAO she would have sold him just like S.asnsa blabbed on you, guess the J___sas were right, it was a bit of a Ned x Cat parallel, probably Cat would have sold Ned also in a fucking instant. Dany is absolutely right. This shit cannot be contained because you don’t know how people would react to it. 

“She’s not the girl you grew up with” … BOOM.

I love how he cradles her face into his hands MY FUCKING HEART MY HEART.

Pause. The part where she begs remind me of this traumatic moment:

… fuuuuck. Anyway.

And I love how she turns the tables on him. But Jon… is still Jon for plot reasons I guess. Maybe he didn’t understand why Ned had to keep the secret for so many years. 

The end of the Northern plot - BYE NO ONE WILL MISS YOU

The Starks can choke. They are cancelled. 

Yeah no. Bye. Fuck S.ansa or Sandra, who the fuck this OOC shitty ass character is. Fuck every single one of them. Wow, emotional manipulation at its finest. I just love how they basically called this episode the last of the Starks because they just character assassinated all of them. Edit: LMAO you know what this is? The shitty family that pulls over one member and tries to break him up with his wife, for the sole reason they don't like her. Because fuck their brother's happiness. Because they are fucking selfish people.  

Jaime x Tyrion x my headache

Let’s add to the list of cancelled people Jaime and Tyrion just for that fucking chat.

“I will pay you double” ex machina, and that’s how the Bronn issue is solved. Just as Friki said, btw. 

Arya x The Hound

So I guess Arya just fucking lies through her teeth now smh, since she was guilt trippig JON JUST MOMENTS AGO and she just up and leaves BECAUSE FUCK FAMILY I GUESS 

Tyrion is suddenly afraid of Dany so I guess we are supposed to excuse Sandra’s petty shady jealous ass 

Sandra is fucking jealous and insane. Littlefinger will be proud. Her face though. This fucking bitch doesn’t like that he is a Targaryen LMFAO she is scheming so hard bahahahahah

She is fucking cancelled. They murdered her character the moment they took her out of the Vale. FIGHT ME ON THIS I FUCKING DARE YOU.

Jon x Tormund x Ghost - say your goodbyes

Hey hey hey so that line where Jon belongs in the North? The real North, which for Tormund is North of the Wall since he calls Winterfell the South? Guess where those waterfalls from 8x01 are?

Jon is the worst dog owner KILL ME.

Fucking Sam Tarly

Jon was like yeah no don’t name your kid after me. Interesting how he could tell from a hug that Gilly was pregnant. Hope Dany starts showing soon *wink wink boatie is still coming*

The IT or Southern plot

Tyrion x Varys

I cannot wait for Varys to die. Like, he is spewing inaccurate information and then, he is suddenly against Dany and suddenly only Jon is a war hero. Just because he has a dick. Fuck D&D and their sexist asses Also VArys keeps talking about the realm LMAO YOU KNOW WHAT I SEE? I see kings dying all around you, and the only constant it’s you. Who is the problem, I wonder? 

Euron ex machina

Makes no fucking sense. But I guess nobody cares anymore.

Yeah I screamed when Rhaegal died. And I screamed again with Dany.

I guess Dany couldn’t just fly behind Euron’s ship and roast them all for plot reasons. 

Dragonstone mess

Fuck you, Varys. And fuck you, Tyrion. Not you, Greyworm, ILY *hugs tightly*

BONUS: FUCK YOU JAIME FUUUUUCK YOU FOR LEAVING BRIENNE LIKE THAT. BYE BITCH GOOD RIDDANCE.

King’s Landing mess & the shitty ass parley that even Captain Sparrow could have organised better

Ew how much time has it passed since Cersei is already claiming to be preggers? 

“So much for the breaker of chains” - is again, a sign they are trying to strip Dany of everything she has and is. 

Tyrion and Qyburn - ew, but also Qyburn has a point, why would Cersei surrender? Oh and I think the point to save Rhaegal from the NK only for him to die at the hands of Euron is to further handicap Dany and make the Cersei threat real, and have a reason to keep Drogon away from KL - HAVE YOU ALL SEEN THE SCORPIONS EVERYWHERE?

Ugh Tyrion stop trying to get Cersei to love you LMFAO she doesn’t. But I know, it is hard to break from toxic relationships and abusers. Tyrion told Cersei “you are not a monster” and she literally went “HOLD MY BEER”.

Missandei’s death made me sick to my stomach and traumatised me for life. We should all collectively agree to NEVER give D&D our attention again and never let them write anything again. 

Missandei hatefully spewing DRACARYS as her last words was so strong it made me start crying because holy shit this was a peaceful person, and for her to show this much hate and rage was so gutting…  fuck me. I am crying again. I think she also meant, besides from the obvious, “there is no reasoning with these people, so why bother. Might as well blow it the fuck up.”

And Grey’s reaction wow - again, I was about to puke, despite the scene not being the most gorey on GoT, but it was so intrinsically and viscerally wrong my mind could not deal. 

In conclusion

Poor Dany, she has lost everything. EVERYTHING. She is literally at her lowest. After the discussion with Jon, she slipped back the Queen mask - like you can pinpoint the moment she does so! And she keeps it on in front of everyone else but her dragons.

I am expecting a very very cold (but very fragile inside) Dany in 8x05. I am expecting her to push Jon away. Oh and at the ending of 8x04 she totally just gets up on Drogon and goes back to Dragonstone. No way she does anything yet so soon.

I haven’t watched any of the BTS and Making of videos, nor have I watched the 8x05 promo. Will do soon.

Stay strong, jonerys is still going strong. I am here until the very end and I still think this will end with jonerys together. Will it be good writing? Nope. But it will end well. As I keep saying. We’re missing the “sweet” in this fucking “bittersweet” shit show. Stop saying it ends badly because of 8x03.

If you need me, you know where to find me. Image of me in the fandom. Except I charge nothing.

Oh and PS: FUCK D&D.

[sieben9]

“the final battle” impressions

{Quick request to anyone reading: I’m watching OUaT for the first time, and I want to avoid spoilers. So, if you want to discuss something spoilery, I’d be grateful if you could start a new post for that. Thank you!}

Ah Once, what am I going to do with you?

I mean, this episode was definitely an Experience™, that much is certain. Just… ::sighs::

Look, if I try to sum it up, I think the best I can do is “this was twenty minutes of a really good finale stuck inside a rushed ninety-minute wtf-fest. Also, those twenty minutes belong to a totally different season.

this is the sort of thing you’ve got to foreshadow at least a LITTLE

The acting was pretty damn good, though.

(Fair warning: don’t open this on mobile, there’s a ridiculous amount of pictures under the cut)

OK. So. Couple of things that I really liked up front, so I can gripe in peace later on. (And readers can skip whatever part they wish ; )

First, and I realise this is a weird thing to enjoy, but I loved how utterly despicable I found Fiona in this one. She may have hung around like a bad smell for most of the season without really doing much, but she sure stepped up her game for the occasion.

Seriously, if Rumple hadn’t killed her, I would have found a way. “Our son”, indeed.

Though, please, have some pity on the poor guy. At this point, he has killed both his parents, and one of them twice. That can’t be good for anyone.

oh look the wall robots are still there

And speaking of Rumple… dang, that was a good scene in the mines. What I loved most about it was that this was literally all him. Nobody would ever know what he did in there if he didn’t tell them, except for himself, and he still made the right choice. Despite being offered everything he ever wanted, despite being under the influence of his curse just as much as ever…

before you ask, yes, my mind did go Places

…and more literally than it’s usually shown. Well done, pal. I should probably be more excited about this, but despite the tense buildup, I feel like the scene kind of fizzled as a whole. Maybe because he already made the exact same choice earlier, and was just confirming that he really meant it, too. Still, it was a good moment, and I was very proud of this walking human disaster by the time it was done.

Some more on the topic of Rumple: congratulations on his acting skills. Rumple’s, not Robert Carlyle’s, specifically. Because there’s no way in hell I could have seen these photos…

…and kept a straight face. Honestly, I’m half convinced that they were a test by Fiona to see if he was awake after all.

Oh, and the book!

The book made it across! And you know why? Because Belle and her son have True Love, even if Gideon cannot remember that, because Fiona is The Worst. And Rumple worked so hard to make Gideon remember; it was heartbreaking to see. I mean, he had to do that for… what? Five hours? And he still couldn’t stand the thought that Gideon might believe his mother didn’t love him. It was a good scene, OK?

On a sillier note (but still unambiguously positive): Emma’s wardrobe came back for the finale!

I don’t know, it’s just nice to see.

Other things I loved a lot:

Any and all interactions between Regina and her now-settled other half. Just. Pure joy, even in the midst of the wtf-ery. And with the obvious standout-moment when the Queen goes and sacrifices herself to give the others that tiny bit of time they need to get back to their world and help Henry (and Emma, but I think we all know who the priority was in this case)

Just… damn. I’m still worried about this woman’s self-destructive streak in general, but this was a good moment. (It also helps that she got better. ‘cause that could have been really depressing otherwise.)

Oh, and since we’re speaking of Regina (or the Reginas, plural), I absolutely adored the speech she gave Emma. Just… I mean, I expect the hope speeches from Snow (and that one was pretty good, too), but this? I mean… wow. Please compare and contrast with season 1. Except you don’t have to, because Regina already did that, and it was beautiful.

Then we have an actual mirrored TLK (see below for a botched version…) in this very good moment:

Like, yes, I love bookends, and this was a great one. Calling back to the “holy crap why didn’t I see this coming” kiss in s1 worked surprisingly well, considering how little interaction Emma and Henry had this season, but there’s enough material in the show in general to make me buy into this. Like I said: sucker for bookends.

In general, I feel like this episode was at its strongest whenever re-focused on the family relationships between the characters.

And to close it out, the ending montage.

Just... it’s like Snow said. They get to live their happy endings now. Snowing finally have the time to be a proper family (and David got a dog!). Regina is accepted and loved by her people (and the Queen gets to have a completely “new adventure”, as Robin so aptly put it.) Snow can do what she loves and doesn’t have to fight all the time anymore. And Emma finally has a place in the world; one where she can settle and be comfortable and doesn’t have to be alone anymore... and I’ll just leave it at that. It’s a good ending.

And no, I haven’t forgotten it--obvious special mention to this bit here:

Yup. Killed me dead. And I died happy, thank you very much. They’ve been through so much bullshit, and now they can be together, and raise their son in peace, and won’t be really worried when he doesn’t stop growing, either.

I also want to give a special shoutout to the five six people who immediately made sure that I knew that 1) the kiss wasn’t scripted and 2) we, as a fandom, are extremely lucky to have Robert and Emilie. (For those who haven’t seen the interview in question, it’s here, and here)

The finishing dinner was nice, too, even if I’m not sure what the whole Last Supper imagery was supposed to do.

Listen, I’ve been going “just let them be happy!” for way too long to complain much when they finally are. Also, I could write an essay on the range of emotions Rumple goes through when he comes through that door and people are actually happy to see him and his family. Or about that look that passes between him and Regina, because I caught that and it made me cry! I don’t think either of them ever imagined they would really be this happy again when they first met and they’ve been through so much crap and just... guh. I like this. It’s a good closing shot.

And now, the rest.

Because frankly, this wasn’t a great finale. It wasn’t even that good of an episode. It was everything wrong with the 4B finale, only more of that.

For example: What was the deal with making Emma lose her belief? Since when was her belief required for the magical realms to exist? The only person who’s ever had even something approaching that function was Henry. She didn’t need to believe in magic to keep it alive, she needed it to break the curse.

And this was never set up as the Black Fairy’s plan. Not even a little. This came so out of left field, it wasn’t even in the same stadium! And it’s so frustrating, because this wasn’t a bad plot, as such, but there was no build-up, no real payoff, nothing. Or, let me put it differently: this was a perfectly fine plot resolution, it just had no business being attached to this season.

Everything felt rushed, there were about five dozen plot points, none of them with any time to breathe and somehow, we still got that terminally boring climb up the bean stalk.Sorry, David, you know I love you, but what was the point of that sidetrack? Nothing happened. There was no try-and-fail cycle (because there wasn’t time for one) and honestly, if you needed a handwave for how they got back from the magical realms, maybe you could have gone with a less time intensive one?

And that moment where Snow kisses David back to life? Yeah, unearned, again. And dear show: the cut-in from the first episode worked for the split-heart curse, because you were subverting it. But here? It just didn’t do anything. This wasn’t a parallel. David wasn’t cursed, he was crushed by a beanstalk.

And speaking of things that don’t make sense…

For the love of fuck. Her ankle? Really? This is such a cliché that even the slasher genre doesn’t do it anymore. And it’s a dumb cliché, too. It’s rooted sexism and it makes it look like you didn’t have any other ideas. I get it, you don’t want Belle with Rumple at that final point so she doesn’t influence his decision. Here’s a thought, then: let her stay behind for a good reason! Or, hell, if you don’t want to write a scene for her (the writers sure seem to be allergic to giving Belle any screentime), let there be a fork in the road! They don’t have the time to check each one, let Belle go one way and Rumple another. It’s still a lazy plot excuse, but at least it’s not the stupidest cliché in the book.

And one more thing…

::sigh:: I have such mixed feelings about this?

Because on the one hand: Gideon had a life that nobody would want. He was kidnapped, imprisoned, kept in the dark and abused for all of his twenty-eight years, and even if he got free, he would never get that time back. Nobody would ever choose that for themselves.

At the same time… Gideon died. The person I got to know over the last half-season is no more. He’s gone. And he never had any say in the matter. Hell, he didn’t even get to say goodbye. It’ just such a messed-up way to get a wonderful thing.

(Also, while I’m on that topic… yes, I did notice that Rumple didn’t recognise his very tiny son at first, and I realise that it’s because he’s never seen him before. It prompted a particularly long “oh noo…”, too.)

And finally…

… that cliffhanger/teaser, though, huh?

I have so many questions. Why was Henry in that monster forest? Why is he now in an apartment and doesn’t remember his daughter? When did he get a daughter? (Also, who with? Enquiring minds would like to know.)

So. I know, like, three things about s7, and one of them is the cast list. Please try not to spoil anything else, because that’s already way more than I wanted to know going in. Seriously, I’m a reasonably grown adult. I can deal with a couple of surprises.

[why-this-kolaveri-machi]

avengers: infinity war

um. SPOILERS.

so i finally watched spiderman: infinity war avengers: infinity war yesterday with the inimitably awesome aakanksha ( @franklyineedcoffee). it was great! very cgi and very Epic.

like. mcu movies were never terribly remarkable to me, but then they got Spiderman involved (and made him great!) and the ensuing trifecta of extremely enjoyable films (homecoming, ragnarok and black panther) finally made a fangirl out of me. which basically primed me perfectly to enjoy the shit out of infinity war. 

a few thoughts! a second reminder for SPOILERS because i discuss about basically everything.

1. the film did a great job juggling so many characters and so many plot threads? of course some parts were under-served (the whole wakanda stretch was a bit meh to me), but at no point was i just waiting for the film to get back to the Interesting Bit. almost all of it was equally engaging.

2. i’d heard a lot about thanos going into this film but what i wasn’t expecting was to be reminded of two villains that the mcu had done really, really well recently: adrian toomes/the vulture from homecoming, and erik killmonger from black panther. thanos isn’t nearly as compelling as either of them and certainly doesn’t deserve a fraction of the sympathy we can reasonably afford to either toomes/killmonger, but the kind of sad, single-minded conviction that he used to justify murdering trillions of people? yeah, that was all-too-familiar. far from the cackling, evil villain trope, both toomes and killmonger were shaped and scarred by unforgiving circumstances; you didn’t approve of the stuff they did but their pathos was palpable. thanos plays this part of the villain arc very well--he doesn’t visibly delight in death and destruction, but does it because he is burdened with it. and isn’t that how it usually goes in the real world? the worst people in the world never believe in their own evil--just their own status as a Special Person Who Knows Something Better Than Everyone Else. a special destiny, a special responsibility with all that power. sometimes the line between superhero and villain is so, so thin.

2.5. because looking at it objectively, his motivation was some malthusian bullshit, yeah? and in a way recalls some of the most harrowing repercussions of bullshit science from the early twentieth century. so if i read one more thinkpiece about ‘errrrr guys maybe thanos had a point’ i’m going to lose it. both the writing and performance for thanos was fantastic--he practically dripped with gravitas, even under all the layers of cgi and chaotic fight scenes--but let’s not confuse that with actual sense/decency, yeah?

3. the groupings were great--so great that i could’ve readily watched an entire film based on any one of them. my favourite had to be thor with rocket/groot. i would’ve never guessed it, but it turned out to be the most poignant dynamic of them all. that little conversation that rocket had with thor was a little oasis in the middle of a terribly chaotic movie and neatly tied in and mirrored the incredible character development both the characters had undergone in their last movies--GotG vol 2 and ragnarok. this scene for me was an example of the ultimate reward of getting a film like infinity war--a moment of truly resonant emotional connection between two wildly differing characters and genres.

3.5. and, btw, the genres! can we talk about that a bit? it was a really cool mix of generic superhero stuff with sci-fi, a touch of horror, magic, swords-and-sorcery, opposites-meet comedy, a bit of romance, and just good old-fashioned family drama. 

3.75. and speaking of drama, the whole arc with gamora was gutting and inspired more tears from me than the much-talked-about snap. the sheer range of emotions she went through right before and after she realised that thanos was going to kill her and why! zoe saldana is fucking amazing.

4. aagh i just wished we had more time but all of the groups played really well off each other: i enjoyed iron man and company in particular because duh, spiderman, and watching three gigantic egos clash in the form of tony stark, dr strange, and peter quill was entertaining as all hell. and i know tumblr fandom in particular likes to give tony a hard time but i was impressed not just by his quick thinking, his surely-impossible technology, and his raw physical strength, but also his ability to lead, well, any team. he had spiderman covered (summoning the iron spider suit! appointing him an avenger! collaborative flying of an alien spaceship!), had dr strange figured out pretty quickly, and tried his best to steady peter quill. 

4.5. the group on wakanda wasn’t nearly as compelling, but much of their screen time was filled with fighting cannon fodder and that’s literally the least interesting part of any mcu movie, so. i guess i was also annoyed by rhodey basically throwing away the principled position he took in civil war--the narrative had to essentially make the regulatory body a one-dimensional super-villain. and, like. whatever. the avengers have to reform, etc. but it still stinks. i kind of dozed through the parts of civil war that didn’t involve spiderman but some of the issues that it raised were compelling. but then those issues were just used as an excuse to get a slugfest between iron man and captain america and now somehow an agreement signed by 150+ countries is all about oh no! will steve and tony ever make up?? like, fuck that shit. 

4.85. i didn’t expect to be as moved as i was by vision and wanda, though. unlike the nat/bruce thing that also kind of came out of the blue in ultron, these two were weirdly compelling. (although wanda’s missing accent is bothering me.)

5. there was so much cgi in this movie! some of it was truly breathtaking but more often than not it felt suffocating. i feel like tony stark and co. were especially ill-served: the deep blues of the doughnut spaceship and the flashy, dusty oranges on titan just made it more difficult to see the characters and, idk. i’m not a fan of the effect. 

5.5. everything involving thor was great, tho. couldn’t possibly match the climactic bridge scene in ragnarok in terms of pure Epicness but came close several times. 

6. mmm, what else? i really liked that this film undercut a lot of the truly dramatic scenes with humour--it just lent a dreadful sense of finality to the scenes that left us with death rather than a punchline.

6.5. another note: i realise that thor continually calling rocket and groot ‘rabbit and tree’ was supposed to be funny, but why would he do that? the ‘captain’ has a name. and he speaks groot’s language! why would he call him something as reductive as ‘tree’? (unless groot’s actual name is tree) it’s just a little niggling thing but it’s starting to bother me a lot now.

6.55. but i do find it a little endearing that prideful, extremely sensitive rocket never once bothered to correct thor.

7. ultimately the Epicness that made this movie possible is also one of the things that repeatedly threatens to bring it down. i just don’t want this film to fall down the rabbit hole that SPN finds itself in--expand its scope exponentially and find itself unable to remotely do it the justice that it deserves. what do you do with a character who could kill half the universe with a snap of his fingers? what do you do with characters who, in their individual movies, have expressed powers and resources that are seriously large-scale?

we see the film sputter in this respect a couple of times: i never understood why thanos didn’t just use the reality stone to, say, turn tony’s tech into cheesecake or something. out of respect at the man’s sheer tenacity? idk. and loki going out by trying to stab thanos was weird to me. was he deliberately sacrificing himself? is there something else going on? doesn’t he have much better weapons in his arsenal? at least he was aiming for the head

and the consequences of the final snap where more than half of the heroes disintegrated in front of their friends’ eyes should’ve felt more devastating, but the neatness of the old avengers being spared so that they could save (avenge if you will) their next generation in a final hurrah in the next movie seemed way too obvious. that’s not to say it wasn’t impactful. watching peter parker disintegrate in tony’s arms, fighting till the very last minute to stay he was so scared oh god he just wanted to stay and for mr stark to make it all right was gutting, no matter how much i’d prepared myself for it. i may have whimpered. 

8. i’m sure i have a lot more to say but it’s getting late and i’m tired, so. another post in the near future maybe.

but before i go, how could i not talk about spiderman?? i screamed my throat raw at the first sight of peter parker, and although he doesn’t actually get all that much screen time he made every second count. the awe-inspiring appearance of the iron spider. “have you ever seen that old movie, aliens?” the sheer range of emotions that passed his face when tony stark officially made him an avenger. flying spaceships along with tony. fun with magic portals! almost getting the gauntlet off because he is Just That Strong. saving mantis and drax. and clinging to life till the very last second even as the edges of his body were starting to wisp away. this boy. god. how mcu hit the perfect formula to represent my all-time favourite superhero on screen is a mystery, but i’m so so glad it happened. 

[moiraineswife]

Infernal Mending: The Locket, Part 3 - A Mollymauk Fic

Part 1 || Part 2 

Finally posting part 3 (I definitely didn’t forget about this except for the fact that I kind of did) 

Title: Infernal Mending 

Fic Summary: Molly has no memories of his past before he woke up at the side of the road, half-dead, and was taken in by the carnival that became his family.The only connection he has to who he was before is a locket given to him by Yasha.

Now travelling with his new, strange group, he begins to understand who he was before, and is forced to face the ghosts that emerge from the locket he opened with unthinking curiosity.

Mollymauk backstory/character study/exploration of the new team dynamic. Something in here for everyone. And shit loads of angst. Because I’m me.

Chapter Summary: Molly cools off after the uncomfortable moment with Jester, and gets help from an unexpected source that advises him on how to put things right. 

Teaser: ‘ In that moment he was close to wishing, as he had in those early days, that they had left him there to die. Nameless. Storyless. Forgotten. It was kinder than this. Kinder than pretending that he hadn’t died that day. Kinder than allowing this shambling wreck with no sense of self or purpose to continue existing in the world and call it living.’

Link: AO3 

Without another word he sped up to walk ahead of their little convoy. The wagon didn’t move fast, with their sad, solitary horse to pull it, and it didn’t take much effort to get clear ahead of them, out of range of their whispered comments about his behaviour, their prying eyes, and above all, the hurt on Jester’s face.

An empty pit inside him had opened up and threatened to swallow him whole. He shouldn’t have snapped at Jester like that, he hated himself for snapping at Jester like that but...He had done so well at pretending he had started to deceive himself, had started to believe that he might actually be a whole person, who didn’t need anything but the last two years he could remember to cobble together a sense of self.

Yet listening to them all talking, hearing how their families, their upbringings, however had or good, had shaped them, driven them, given them purpose, given them identity, had made him realise how hollow he was by comparison.

Molly put on a front, that wasn’t exactly a secret. But usually when people acted the way that he did they had things to hide. They had secrets. They had something or someone they were trying to conceal. He had nothing. He was nothing. Nothing and no-one.

The front had been enough for so long. The pretence, the lies, the bullshit he spouted whenever anyone asked him a difficult question about where he had come from or why he was like this. Most of them had known it was bullshit but that hadn’t really mattered. All that had mattered was that he had said something, he had found some lie, some story, something that he could hold on to and pretend with.

It had all slipped away when they had started to talk of family. That hadn’t been as much of a problem in the carnival. Everyone had been there to either run from something, hide from something, or pretend to be something else. No-one had pried into the others’ pasts, and there had been few questions about family. It had been commonly accepted that they were each others’ family now, and that that had happened for a reason.

He covered his face with his hands and groaned softly. Why hadn’t he just been able to lie? Why hadn’t he just  been able to tell them all that his mother was a famous musician with so much talent that kings begged her to play at their court, and that was why he could sing so well himself? His father had been an incredible painter, and was the source of his own small creative prowess? Why hadn’t he been able to invent a younger sister with lavender skin and big black eyes who he sang lullabies to, just to please Jester? Why had he gone to pieces like that?

Why, why, why?

Nothing made any fucking sense. Nothing had made any fucking sense since the day he’d woken up in a puddle of filth and rain at the side of the road and been taken in by the carnival that had happened past him and pulled him out of death’s embrace that had been closing so sweetly around him.

In that moment he was close to wishing, as he had in those early days, that they had left him there to die. Nameless. Storyless. Forgotten. It was kinder than this. Kinder than pretending that he hadn’t died that day. Kinder than allowing this shambling wreck with no sense of self or purpose to continue existing in the world and call it living.

On some strange instinct, he pulled at the fine gold chain around his neck and pulled the heavy locket up from where it had been resting, warm from the heat of his body, just over his heart.

He turned it over and over in his fingers, his calluses scraping on the edges of the fine engravings that patterned it. He clicked the latch and opened it, staring down once more into the eyes that had been haunting his dreams since Yasha had given it to him in the Feed and Mead tavern a few weeks earlier.

One of the doors was empty. In the other was a thick piece of paper, painted over with a clear liquid that reminded him of a pottery glaze in order to preserve the image below. It depicted a tiefling woman. Her horns extended straight up above her head, like a ram’s, spiralling slightly at the tips. Her skin was a deep blue, darker than Jester’s, but she had red eyes, like his. Above the top of her head, in blood red ink, were four numbers: 3010.

He had no idea who she was. But she had been important enough to him, at some point in his life, to keep safe in this locket that he had still been carrying when the carnival had found him. And she had begun to creep into his dreams, already dark and twisted, that woke him before dawn most days, shaking and sweating, clutching at the details of the demons his mind danced with at night, at the possible insight they might give him into his past. But he still had no idea who she was. His mother, perhaps, when she had been younger? Or maybe a sister, as Jester had suggested. Or a friend. A partner?

It seemed his search for answers about himself was only giving him more and more questions, adding to the already extensive list of things he didn’t know. It was exhausting and infuriating, and never more present to him than when the others had so poignantly reminded him of the life he didn’t have.

He was like a ghost walking among them. Not part of their world, but not able to move on or find peace either. Lost. Adrift. A soul condemned to wander on this plane for the rest of eternity, searching for those who may once have loved it.

It was a lonely, cold, isolating thing, and as the last vestiges of whatever it was that had made him snap at Jester faded away, he realised it had settled firmly in his chest, in the place where his heart might once have been.

He walked. And walked. And walked. Until his feet protested and his calves felt as though someone had applied thumb screws to his tendons. The sun had set below the horizon and the cold wind tugged at his coat before he realised it was time to stop.

Glancing over his shoulder, he scanned the horizon for some sign of his party and, after a moment, he spotted a rising column of smoke from a fire. He made towards it, vaguely hoping it was his friends, and not another random band of travellers. Though if it was, he assured himself dully, they might yet be more willing to take him in than his group would.

Once his self-pitying thoughts about his past had elapsed, which admittedly had taken some time, his thoughts had turned instead to how he had snapped at Jester. Thinking about it now caused him to wince, not least because of the way the others would react. Shouting at Jester was like kicking a puppy. It was, above all, an inexcusable crime that served no-one and left the world a little darker than it had been before.

After almost twenty minutes of walking, he crested a small rise, and came upon their poor horse which was grazing absently on the thick tufts of grass around it, swishing its tail back and forth to ward off the flies.

“Hello there dinner,” he murmured quietly, stepping forwards and allowing the horse to nuzzle at his hands. He’d gotten into the habit of feeding it a sugar lump a time or two while he’d travelled with it in the circus and the thing now assumed that every time he approached it, it was going to get sugar from him. He had gotten into the habit of calling it ‘dinner’ a few days ago, because it made Jester squawk indignantly every time he did so.

“Go back to your grass, friend,” Molly told it quietly, “I haven’t got anything for you I’m afraid.”

The temptation to remain beside the horse and not move any closer to the small fire they had managed to get going was extremely tempting, but he didn’t need to add ‘coward’ to his long list of flaws of today.

So he strolled into camp as casually as he could and announced to the people gathered there, “The road ahead is clear. No dangers.”

There was a long, agonizing silence as they all slowly looked up at him. Finally, after letting him stew in his own discomfort for a lot longer, Beau broke it.

“And how the hell were we supposed to know there was danger or not?” she demanded, screwing up her face in that frown of distaste she reserved just for him, “Seeing as how you didn’t bother coming back to us for six hours, by which time we’d already stopped.”

“Well,” Molly said, chewing on that for a moment as he swaned closer to the fire, suddenly realising how cold he was, “If something dangerous had attacked and killed me, my lifeless body at the side of the road would probably have been a good indication for you all to stop, wouldn’t it?”

“Yeah, stop and give whatever finally did you in a fucking medal,” Beau muttered under her breath, turning her attention back to the chopping board balanced precariously across her knees where she was helping Fjord with dinner.

Molly stepped forward to help too, feeling pity for the poor roots Beau was currently mangling, but Fjord told him in a voice that was curt but civil, that he didn’t need any help. After almost five minutes drifting around the camp trying to find something to do with himself, he felt a tug on the hem of his cloak and looked down to see Nott there.

“Yes?” he said, arching an eyebrow at her.

“The horse has a stone in one of his shoes, we think,” the little goblin girl informed him in a soft voice, “But he won’t let any of us close enough to look, he just kicks. Maybe, maybe you could fix that?”

“Of course,” Molly said, thinking that getting kicked in the face by a grumpy, overworked horse was entirely more enjoyable than the alternative.

“And,” Nott whispered, dropping her voice even further and glancing around, as though afraid to be seen talking to him, “You should give her some flowers.”

“Who?” Molly said, bewildered.

“Jester,” Nott said, as though this was obvious and, in hindsight, it probably should have been. She shuffled her feet and explained, clearly thinking him to be incredibly dense, which perhaps he was, “She likes flowers. It can be how you say sorry.”

He sauntered back to Winter’s Crest, still placidly chomping on the grass, and set about examining his feet. The horse didn’t think much of this, and did indeed kick, but a few soft words and touches were enough to calm him so that Molly could actually help the silly beast. He stood beside it a while longer, chewing on his mint leaves, pondering Nott’s words to him before deciding that it almost definitely couldn’t make the situation worse.

He was thankful for his darkvision as he scoured the nearby bushes and grasses for some likely looking flowers. Unfortunately, there didn’t seem to be any around save a few half-wilted dandelions. As far as apologies went, they would probably make the situation worse.

In the end he got hold of a stick around as broad as his thumb, and roughly the length of his forearm, plopped himself down on the grass next to WC, who spared him half a glance in between his grass-chomping, and began whittling it.

Half an hour later, he had what he hoped would suffice as a fairly reasonable apology gift and approached the camp again.

Jester was being kept well aware from the food, as they had all learned the hard way was essential to avoiding food poisoning on this trip together, and drawing furiously in her sketchpad. He wondered briefly if it would depict him headless, along with a prayer to the Traveller for something nasty to find and kill him the next day, but he didn’t really think Jester had a truly vindictive bone in her body.

He had barely opened his mouth when Fjord and Beau seemed to coalesce from the darkness on either side of Jester, both standing straight, arms folded, glaring at him like bodyguards.

Frowning, he opened his mouth to say something that would either make Fjord laugh or Beau punch him, when Jester interrupted, “It’s alright, it’s alright. You don’t have to protect me from him,” she said, rolling her eyes as though she found her companions completely ridiculous. Molly felt his heart lighten for just a second, thinking that maybe she wasn’t as hurt as he’d feared. Then she added firmly, “I can do that myself.”

Beau and Fjord did at least move aside, though Beau continued to frown suspiciously at him even as she did so, and neither of them went far. Molly tried to ignore them as he focused on Jester.  

“I have something for you,” he said quietly to her.

“What is it?” she asked, looking curious, her voice perking up apparently in spite of herself.

“An apology,” he said, frankly, then withdrew the thing he had carved from her and handed it out to her, “Nott suggested flowers, but I couldn’t find any. And besides, I think you’ll like this better.”

“Better than flowers?” she said, suspiciously, “Is it a doughnut?”

He laughed a little at that, “Unfortunately not. If I’d passed a bakery in the middle of a field I’d have been sure to get something for you.  This is the best I could manage with what I had available to me.”

She took it from him and raised an eyebrow, obviously unimpressed. “It’s a stick,” she informed him, “Definitely not better than flowers. This one isn’t even on fire,” she glanced around him to where their fire was currently consuming many sticks.

“Take a closer look,” he urged her, afraid she was going to impulsively set it alight just to declare it better than a simple stick.

Frowning, she peered down at it for almost a full minute before she declared, “It’s a stick with holes in it. Probably better than just a stick, but not better than flowers.”

Sighing a little in spite of himself, Molly held out a hand, “May I?” he asked her.

She handed him back the roughly carved flute, now looking slightly suspicious, as though afraid he was teasing her. Beau and Fjord were both watching him now, and Nott was peering from around Caleb’s legs at him. Their eyes on him, he blew gently and played a soft few notes.

Jester clapped her hands together in delight while at the same time he was almost certain he heard Fjord give a soft groan. Like Molly, he was probably fully aware that this gift meant they’d never have another peaceful moment on the road.

“It sounds just like an owl!” Jester said excitedly, snatching it from him and blowing it herself. The note she made was a little more cracked than his had been, since she hadn’t quite perfected the art of not doing something to the fullest extent that she possibly could, but she looked very pleased with herself all the same. “You were right, this is definitely better than flowers,” she informed him.

“I’m glad you’re pleased,” Molly said, bowing to her, “I’ll teach how you to play some songs on it tomorrow,” for the sake of all of their ears, he hoped she picked it up quickly.

He opened his mouth to continue, but Beau interrupted, “Is that it, then?” she demanded, shifting protectively a little closer towards Jester, arms folded.

“No,” Molly scowled, “It’s not.” With that, he turned firmly away from her and said to Jester in Infernal, “Can I have a word? Just the two of us?”

She studied him for a long moment, then she said, “Yes, alright,” in Common, set down her sketchbook, and got to her feet.

She took his hand and promptly began to lead him away from the confused Beau and Fjord.

“Jes?” Fjord said, a question in his voice.

“We’re not going to have sex with each other, “ Jester informed Fjord placidly, while Beau choked, “Don’t worry,” she patted his arm in an apparently reassuring way then, with surprising strength, tugged Molly deeper into the darkness.

She seemed to have a destination in mind, and he didn’t protest as she dragged him into the shelter of an old oak tree and plopped down, patting the grass beside her in invitation. He accepted it, and joined her on the ground.

Before he could say anything she spoke, examining the roughly carved flute in her hands. “Where did you get this?”

“I made it,” he replied, in Infernal.

She cocked an eyebrow at him, “Really?” she said in the same language.

He nodded, “Really really.”

She studied him for a long moment, apparently trying to decide if he was teasing her, then said, “I didn’t know you could make things like this.”

He smirked at her, “I’m a man of many talents and mysteries, my dear.” She continued to watch him and after a long moment he shrugged and said, “Yasha taught me how to do it, while we were travelling together. Something to keep my hands busy, she said.” He had needed that, back in those days, just to keep him from climbing the walls or clawing off his own skin in frustration. “She’s much better than me, the things she can make are incredible. But don’t ask her directly about it.”

Jester cocked her head, curious, “Why not?” she asked.

Molly smiled thinly, “She’s self-conscious about it,” he said, “Doesn’t like attention being drawn to her. She’d probably butcher me right here and now if she knew I’d even told you this much.” He wasn’t sure how much of an exaggeration that was. It probably depended on Yasha’s mood in the moment she found out. “Although,” he added wryly, “I suppose you might not object to that.”

Jester considered him for a moment, then she said, “I would.” There was such a sweet sincerity to her words that he felt yet another stab of guilt for having snapped at her before. “You were a bit of a dick,” she admitted, “But I wouldn’t want her to hurt you.”

“I wouldn’t blame you if you did,” he told her, quietly, “I shouldn’t have snapped at you like that.”

“No,” Jester agreed, with that characteristic candid bluntness of hers, “You shouldn’t have.”

Without really noticing what he was doing he started pulling up long blades of grass with his fingers and absently weaving them together. Jester watched him for a long moment. Finally, he said, his voice soft, “It’s nice to have someone to speak Infernal with again.” That seemed to catch her off-guard and she just blinked at him, “Haven’t you missed it?” he asked her.

“Not really,” she said slowly, “But I haven’t been travelling for as long as you have.” She considered for another moment, then, “And it is nice to have another tiefling to talk to. Fjord is very nice, but for a sailor he’s very bad with languages. He doesn’t even know the fun stuff like the curse words!”

Molly laughed at that, “I take it you’ve already solved that problem?” he said.

“Of course I have,” Jester replied, looking mildly offended that he’d even felt the need to ask. “He now knows how to say all the important things.”

Molly smiled, “I’m glad to hear that.”

He was silent for a log moment, staring up into the velvety black sky that blanketed the world. They were far enough away from any cities that he could see stars stretching out in endless clusters before him, like handfuls of diamonds tossed across the sky by the hand of a careless god.

Yasha had told him once of the strange beliefs of her people with regards to the stars. They believed that the entire sky was actually only stars, and nothing else. The black patches were not the sky, they were simply stars that had not been given souls yet.

He had questioned her on what that had meant, and she had solemnly told him that every star he saw in the sky corresponded to a departed soul. When a loved one died, she had claimed, their soul was carried into the sky, and drifted into one of the empty, waiting, black stars, illuminating it.

Shooting stars were the last farewell of a soul as it left the world as they knew it and was carried into the sky to take its rightful place. Her people believed that some day, when the sentient races had completed their quest in this world, that the last thing the gods would see was the sky was it should be, an oasis of rippling light, every dark, empty star filled, and that the world would then ended.

As he stared up above them he wondered if his family were up there, watching him, or if their stars, like his, were dark. He wondered if the woman from the locket was there, too...

“Mollymauk,” Jester said after a long moment, interrupting him.

“Mm?” He started, looking down at her.

“I’m not sure how to tell you this,” Jester said in Infernal, gently patting his hand, “But this is a really shit apology.”

He barked out a laugh at that, “It is,” he agreed, then dragged a hand through his hair. His fingers caught on the tiny braids Jester had been weaving into it that morning, which he had forgotten about until now. “I haven’t had to apologise to people too often,” he explained, with a broad, lazy smile, “It’s one of the many burdens of being as perfect as I am-“ he broke off, snickering, as Jester playfully shoved at him.

He sobered up a moment later, gazing up at the stars once more, his throat growing tight. “The truth-“ he faltered, swallowed hard, and forced himself to try again, “The truth is, Jester, that I wasn’t really trying to apologise there. I was trying to explain.”

Jester’s brow furrowed in answer to that, “Explain?” She repeated, confused, “By telling me about Infernal?”

“Yes,” he said, his voice growing suddenly hoarse, thick with an emotion that he couldn’t place that welled up from his chest and threatened to drown him for a moment. He swallowed it back down and forced himself to continue, though he didn’t look at her now. “Before you I hadn’t spoken Infernal in a very long time. I had no-one to speak it to. No-one in the carnival knew it, and I almost thought it had left me, too, until I saw you again.”

Jester stayed uncharacteristically quiet and still, as though she had been frozen, watching him silently.

With a ragged, shuddering breath, he looked up at her again and said, “My family are gone, Jester.” The words were true enough. Whether the interpretation she chose to place upon them was also true was another matter entirely, but not one he cared to dwell upon at the moment. “All of them. There’s nothing left of them. And so...So it was nice to have someone speak Infernal with me again.”

She reached out slowly and took his hand, giving it a gentle squeeze. At the same time, she tangled her tail with his, a common sign of intimacy and affection that he had also not experienced...For as long as he could remember. Yet it felt right. He smiled, a little shakily it was true, but he smiled.

“I know it’s not an excuse,” he continued, “But that was why I snapped at you before.”

“It must be painful to think about,” she said quietly.

He swallowed, “It is,” he admitted, and for some reason, it felt good to say that, to acknowledge that there was this wound in him, this hollowed out scar, capable of hurting him still, even if he couldn’t recall the wound itself.

“Then I’m sorry I pushed you so hard to talk about it,” Jester said, resting her head comfortably on his shoulder and putting her arm around him. She was by far the most comfortable of their group with casual physical affection, something he was glad of.

“I’ll forgive you if you forgive me,” he promised her, turning to the side and kissing the top of her head.

She was quiet for a long time, allowing them to settle in the peaceful silence. Then she said abruptly, “Deal,” and got to her feet without warning.

Molly blinked, a little thrown by this sudden turn of events, even more so when she swooped down and pressed a soft kiss to his forehead. “I forgive you, Molly,” she said, and he felt a soft warmth spread through him at her words. “And to prove how much I forgive you, I’m going to go back to camp and tell Nott not to put beetles in your dinner after all.” With that, she skipped off.

“Wait, what?” Molly shouted after her, her words only just hitting him as he scrambled to his feet and chased after her.

*********************

[notsoguiltykpop]

The Tenth Floor pt10

Min Yoongi had gone through 34 secretaries in the past 24 months, and each one of them left in tears. This fact alone should have warned you against taking the job, but the pay was too good to pass up. Surely you could put up with a billionaires temper-tantrums, right?

Yoongi x Reader & Taehyung x Reader

Genre: Fluff, humor, probably some angst

Warnings: Strong language, smut talked about/implied, some dark themes

Part 1, 2, 3, 4, 5, 6, 7, 8, 9, 10, 11, 12, 13

Min Yoongi was not someone to trifle with. He saw through the best of liars, and couldn’t be manipulated easily. He didn’t let his head get clouded with emotions. He was good at his job, and his job was his life--therefore he was good at life, right?

So he couldn’t figure out he felt so stupid currently. 

He knew his mother would laugh if she could have heard his thoughts. She’d tell him to be humble, and probably ask when his ego had become so inflated. 

He tapped his fingers idly on his office desk. He shouldn’t have let Taehyung get to him. He knew that. But Taehyung knew exactly how to get a reaction out of him, possibly even better than Yoongi knew himself. 

He wasn’t planning on skipping out on the family dinner--It just kind of... happened. When he sat down in the dirt and grass in front of his mothers grave that morning with a bouquet of flowers, he had every intention of showing up on his father’s and stepmother’s doorstep later that day. 

Then he remembered Taehyung. He had been particularly difficult to deal with recently, and the thought of having to sit across from him, pretend to tolerate him, for any extent of time wasn’t something he wanted to do. And then there was his father, who he was sure would try to make small talk at first, and after a few drinks start apologizing. Again. 

That was always a mess. 

And then his stepmom would start apologizing on behalf of his father, and Yoongi would say no, don’t be sorry. It’s fine. I’m fine. I understand. Even though he didn’t really. He had forgiven his father long ago, things were just never the same between them. But his stepmom wouldn’t believe him, would keep on saying sorry, and Taehyung would get mad at Yoongi for upsetting everyone. What Taehyung would never understand was that it wasn’t really Yoongi’s fault: he could never give his father the forgiveness he was looking for because he wasn’t the one his father was seeking it from.

“You’d tell me to go, wouldn’t you.” Yoongi had said with a sigh that morning as he placed the flowers down. There was, of course, no answer. “We’ll compromise, I’ll think about it.” He leaned back on the heels of his hands, sitting cross-legged in front of her grave. “I hired a new secretary. You’d like her. At least, I think you would.” Yoongi gave a little laugh. “I can’t figure out if she sees through me, or if I just can’t keep up an act around her, but every once in a while I catch myself slipping. It’s weird. Maybe it isn’t her though--maybe I’m just tired of acting.” He knew what he mother would have said to that; she’d say it was about damn time, and that he shouldn’t have been putting on an act in the first place. 

“You remember when I was in tenth grade, when Taehyung and I got into a fight over a girl? You told me not to let my competitiveness hurt her. You told me to be kind. I haven’t been.” 

Yoongi would be lying if he said that when he had you half naked in his car, he hadn’t felt more than a little smug that he beat Taehyung to you. It wasn’t until you started panicking that he realized just how petty and shitty that was. The question “when did I turn into that kind of person” rang through his head constantly ever since, but perhaps he had always been that person. 

Be kind. 

His mother would be horrified.

But how could he be kind when Kim Taehyung was involved?

“This isn’t a game, Yoongi. This is someone’s heart you and Taehyung are toying with--more than your pride is at stake. She thinks you like her when you don’t, and that’s not fair.” His mother had scolded him after Taehyung dropped by to inform her of the situation--except he left out a few details, like the fact that Yoongi really did like the girl which, at age sixteen, was a big deal to Yoongi.

Back in high school when he and Taehyung were friends, it was one thing. When he backed off and let Taehyung date whatever-her-name-was, he could at least rationalize that Taehyung was a decent guy and that he’d make her happy.  

But this time was different. Taehyung was a self-absorbed shithead who did nothing but meddle. He didn’t deserve to have a chance with anyone halfway decent, let alone Yoongi’s secretary. But there he was, talking to you every chance he got, and undoubtedly flirting. At first Yoongi could blame his irritation at the situation on looking out for your well-being; you were actually pretty damn good at your job considering you had no training or credentials, and Taehyung would undoubtedly attempt to ruin that if he got the chance.

Somehow that concern for you had twisted into something else though--or maybe it had always been something else, and Yoongi had simply lied to himself. There was an unspoken competition to fuck you first, and Yoongi had let go of whatever decency he had in him to win. 

Be kind. 

“Damn it.” Yoongi ran a hand over his face when he returned to his car later that afternoon. He knew what he should do--no, what he had to do. Things were already out of hand, and the kindest thing he could do for you at this point was to ask you to resign. He’d give you a good reference--hell, he’d set you up with a new job himself if you wanted. But you needed out of his company, away from him, and away from Taehyung. 

Much later, after the fight with Taehyung that resulted in Yoongi getting a split lip, it was only that much clearer to him. The longer you were here, the worse it would get. How you felt about either of them was secondary in both their minds, and that wasn’t going to change. 

He’d wait until Friday to talk to you, though. That way Jimin would lose his stupid bet. 

He stood from his desk after a few minutes of silence in the empty office, and flicked off the light on his way out. 

“Is something wrong?”

You met Yoongi’s gaze evenly as you tried to decide how to respond. Half of the day had gone by without incident, if a little awkwardly. No one dared ask about how Yoongi got a split lip, and you pretended not to see it. Jungkook had tried to talk to you over your lunch break, saying something about researching Yoongi and Taehyungs connected backgrounds, but you did your best to ignore him. You needed to distance yourself from the people at work, and becoming any more invested in them in any way was the opposite.

You still refused to quit because you still needed a decent paying job, but the only way you could see yourself staying was if you kept your work and personal life completely separate. It had been your plan when you first started working there, and looking back, you weren’t sure when you had abandoned it. Was it when Taehyung showed up? Or perhaps it was before that, when you first got caught up in how attractive Yoongi was.

But it didn’t matter really, the facts still remained; Yoongi was just a crazy boss, and Taehyung was just an annoying coworker. If you were going to stay sane, you needed to keep reminding yourself of that.

“No sir, why would you think that?” You asked curtly. You didn’t miss the second of surprise in Yoongi’s eyes when you said sir–you had stopped referring to him as such that fateful day at the carnival, but you brought it back as a reminder that there should be a barrier between you and your boss.

Yoongi had called you into his office several times that day for no apparent reason, then playing it off like he had a question about where something was–you had reorganized nearly everything in his office, so you guessed this was a decent excuse, but this time he got to the point.

“You just seem…” His voice trailed off as he studied you. God, you wanted to punch him. You wanted to yell at him, scream, throw things, have a meltdown and make it clear that yes, something was very wrong. He was wrong. He was fucked up, had used you–was still trying to use you–to get under Taehyung’s skin. “Distracted.” Yoongi finished.

“My apologies, sir.” You replied flatly. You didn’t want to be there. Maybe you would hand in your two-weeks notice after all.

“I didn’t mean–” He started.

“Is that all, sir?” You interrupted, and Yoongi’s mouth shut with a snap.

“No.” He said after a confused moment. “It isn’t. The fuck is going on with you?”

“Have I don’t something wrong, sir?” You asked mildly. This was the Yoongi you were more accustomed to dealing with.

“Since when do you call me ‘sir’, anyway?” Yoongi snapped. “Cut the bullshit. You’ve been acting like a robot all day and it’s getting on my nerves.”

“Sorry. Didn’t realize being polite was against the rules, sir.” You couldn’t help it, the words slipped out before you realized what you were saying. It wasn’t that you wanted to be fired exactly, it was just so hard to stand there and be civil. You hadn’t been any kinder to Taehyung that day; when he tried to say good morning, you had replied with a calm “fuck you” before continuing past him. He had at least taken the hint and was staying away from you for the time being.

Yoongi stood from his desk, walking around it until he was standing directly in front of you. His hands were in his pockets, but you could see the irritation in his eyes.

“Listen. I don’t give a shit what’s crawled up your ass this morning, but pissing me off isn’t a good idea.” He warned lowly.

“I don’t know what you’re talking about.”

You were saved from whatever Yoongi was going to say next by a knock on the door. Taehyung walked in a second later, not waiting for a response.

“Jungkook’s looking for you.” He said to you, before turning his gaze to Yoongi. “What are you doing, anyway?”

“Nothing. She was just leaving.” Yoongi rolled his eyes, walking back around his desk. “Now both of you get the fuck out.”

A/N It’s a little short but I’m finally happy with it! Every time I’d get most of the way done with this chapter, I’d realize that I didn’t like it and rewrite it, which it why it took me so long haha. Thanks for reading and staying patient with me! Hopefully this answered a few questions as to what the hell is going on in Yoongi’s mind lol. Let me know what you thought of this chapter! <3 <3 <3

[blindrapture]

an old Andrew Hussie quote (and then a ramble in the tags)

(In response to “are you aware of all the people wishing Act 5′s hiatuses weren’t so prominent”)

I don't know. I hardly ever read more than half way down the first page of questions. Too many, too repetitive, etc.

But through various channels, I detect certain flavors of reaction, ranging from disappointment to frustration to something faintly resembling outrage, not just at the lack of an incendiary production to mark year 2, but also the flagging rate of output in recent weeks.

These reactions are far from universal, but they exist, and to address them I think an education on why MSPA exists at all is in order. If you see a creator who begins to languish in production of what presumably accounts for his day job, the impression may be that he is falling down on the job and failing to live up to his professional commitment. So maybe this is the source of indignation, re: entitlement, that some may feel when my output falters. The problem is, MSPA is not a day job for me. It is an all consuming lifestyle. Hence, the mirage that is the apparent ease of output for what is at times ludicrous volumes of material is highly sensitive to even slight perturbations in my life situation.

Let me put it this way. You may work a full time job. It may be that something happens in your life that makes your job more difficult, because you are preoccupied. Your work may suffer to some extent, but you can still approximately match what's expected of you, because there is a partition between your job and your home life. You may nevertheless feel your full time job seems to dominate your existence, saps your energy, and leaves your weekend respites feeling all too short. This is not an experience I share, because MSPA is not a full time job. If you have such a job, then I would have to RADICALLY REDUCE my workload to match your level of day to day preoccupation.

The actual quantities involved have always been nebulous and I never made a point of keeping track, but 12 hours per day seems like a pretty reasonable average, since that is just shy of all waking hours. Time spent writing, drawing, animating, or just spacing out at my monitor while contemplating all the moving parts. This is what I did every day, including weekends and holidays, for two years, and to some extent another year prior to that with Problem Sleuth. Only a few weekends were missed due to conventions, and there was a single week off immediately following the infamous "robo smooch", and that's it. (Most of that week was spent wondering why the hell I wasn't updating...) There are other gaps in the archive, spanning days or a week, when I was animating. Those spans involved the usual work schedule, while simply omitting sleep!

Not only is this an unreasonable workload to expect of anyone, it's practically impossible to pull it off. Maybe you can expect some committed guy out there to really buckle down and duplicate that effort for a month or two. But years? Too much can crop up in the white noise of normal life to destabilize it. Momentum is absolutely crucial for maintaining that kind of pace. I find that if I only do an hour of work in a day, I get ten minutes of work done. If I do 12 hours of work, I seem to get 24 hours of work done. This is especially true of animation. Such projects notoriously take a very long time. I feel like because of the crazy head of steam I've built up from years of nonstop effort, I can knock out in days something that might take another animator a week. Or in a week what might take a month. Without that momentum, it's not possible. Starting up Flash cold is excruciating. Getting your head back into the stride of a story wastes energy you wouldn't use if you never broke stride. Without the momentum, the pace reverts to ordinary. Getting distracted by life destroys the momentum.

I've been pretty zealous about deflecting the distractions, even when I move, as I often do. A notable example was last year when I came back from the Emerald City con in Seattle, and found my apartment flooded. The con was already enough of a time sink, so I didn't have much of an appetite for going into personal crisis mode. I just kind of shrugged, picked my computer off the lone, miraculously dry part of the floor, dropped it in a temporary residence, and kept drawing. I think the flood mess occupied about a day of my attention, whereas something like that could easily take up weeks of your time and energy if you're living that "normal life". You know how it is, you come home and find water up to your ankles and go aw fuck, what's ruined, what needs replacing, gotta call whoever and deal with the fuckin landlord about stuff and auuuugh. I just didn't bother with any of that, because it just didn't seem to matter, and I preferred to keep working and not give a crap about all my soggy bullshit. And in retrospect, I guess it really didn't matter.

All of my moves have been similarly characterized by the unceremonious transportation of a computer and a few boxes to a new room, in which I'd continue working as if no change took place, with no service paid to the life that would be lived there, except as a workspace. I moved again recently, prompted by decidedly less dramatic and less soggy reasons than after Emerald City. This time, for whatever reason, I did it differently. I moved the normal way, the way I imagine normal people doing when I close my eyes, whereby more than a car trunk full of utilitarian belongings are imported into the household, placed on the floor, and never unpacked until the next moving day. I am not necessarily PROHIBITIVELY busy, but like I said above, any dent in the momentum, whether its a few trips to Home Depot or Target here and there or somehow waking up to discover I'd absconded from a shelter with two particularly energetic young cats, is something that precludes a pace of output that is insane and often bordering on miraculous.

What I'm trying to convey here is this isn't necessarily any sort of break, or a grand announcement of a big slowdown for MSPA. I'm trying to give you a sense of the reality which made MSPA heretofore possible, and that if for a period of time I descend from an altitude far exceeding the hours of a full time job, into "merely" those of a full time job, IT DOESN'T ACTUALLY COUNT AS A BREAK! And certainly not as any sort of violation in a pact with the readership. Different from what you're used to? Sure. But you should never find yourself in a position where you come to expect, let alone demand, that degree of effort from anyone, even me. If my output "sputters" from 10 pages a day to 1 or 2 or 3, IDEALLY (re: unrealistically) this should not even cause you to voice an internal observation on the matter! And if one is voiced, instead of "oops, looks like Andrew's slipping," it should be "oops, looks like Andrew's being a regular dude for a while."

Not that detecting a pace change is some terrible wrongdoing, since clearly I've done everything in my power to establish these absurd precedents, and people have naturally associated this with The Brand. I'd just like to suggest it would be beneficial to the reader to disentangle enjoyment of the content from the torrid pace its been commonly delivered. Who can say how fast or slow it'll come in year three? Would my assurances even be reliable? Maybe it'll stay at the current pace for a good long while. Maybe it'll soon hasten back to something more typical. Maybe it'll come back FASTER THAN EVER. Who cares??? Do you really NEED this site to be the fastest comic on the block to enjoy it? Are you prepared to contend with the backlash to your psyche that is risked by so fervently relishing that particular property of the comic? What if it's taken away? Don't go boasting to your neighbors that your slave can pick cotton ten times faster than theirs. It's unbecoming. Just enjoy the fluffy yield of his furious hands, while you wait and pray for Abe Lincoln to gently stroke his beard and relieve you of your bigotry.