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little-paperboat · 4 months

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Through Shadows To The Edge Of Night (3)

Here we goooo! Final chapter of "Through Shadows" is out, one day earlier than planned! 🧡 I'm super excited, it was so much fun to write! It's over 6,600 words too!! Twice as long as my usual chapters, which I didn't expect initially, but during the editing process I chose to merge the ending dialogue with another one that I had written for a later chapter, as I found it made more sense.

I'm glad that Tav and Rolan are finally having more interaction... and a little misunderstanding I was craving to write since the beginning, including that *one* scene that I imagined all those months ago and made me want to write this fic 😏

I hope you'll like it! The next part of the series will finally bring us to Baldur's Gate and to Sorcerous Sundries, and well, who knows what will happen then 👀 I'm planning to release it on next Saturday. You can follow the tag "series:forbidden fire" here on tumblr to not miss it when it comes out 🌸

And of course, I'm so grateful for all the comments, kudos and support! The Holy Rolan Empire is truly a gem, you guys are wonderful and it's super heartwarming to be part of such a kind community with so many talented artists and writers 🥹 ❤️

Read on AO3 (3/3)

Read Part 1: Wild Winds Are Death To The Candle (2/2)

She took a step towards him.

“Rolan?”

This broke him out of his stupor, his eyebrows perking up, frowning, and finally coming closer. Had he always been this tall?

“Tav,” he replied sternly.

Her name rolled off his tongue with ease, and something surged within her; wishing that he’d say it more often, whisper it against her skin, his lips caressing the shell of her ears— Wait, what? No! She had done so much for him, against her better judgement even, and he had been nothing but rude and a pain in the ass. No: she wouldn’t be so easily swayed. The ball was in his court, and her expectations were high. She wouldn’t be distracted by nonsense.

She crossed her arms, unimpressed, trying to appear as nonchalant as possible.

“You brought them back,” he said finally, his eyes finding hers, a hint of hesitation colouring his deep voice. Once again, she found herself hypnotised by the golden flames dancing against the moonless sky of his eyes. “I thought my entire family was dead, and you… you brought us back together.” His voice was soft, almost emotional. She didn’t even know he could speak like this.

“Don’t mention it,” she croaked out. What was wrong with her? Gods, she needed to get a grip, now.

“You have no cause to be humble. You did the impossible and you went out of your way to help us when most people would’ve left us to die - or worse.”

Maybe she liked it better when he yelled at her, after all. At least it didn’t make her heart beat so fast.

There was a pause, but before she could speak, he continued.

“I’ve lashed out at you, drunkenly and otherwise, and you helped anyway.” She fought back a smile, biting the inside of her cheeks to physically stop her lips from stretching. “You didn’t deserve that. I’m sorry. And, thank you.”

Was this real? Was this really happening? She tilted her head up at him and wished that she didn’t imagine his own gaze flickering to her lips.

“Why are you being nice?” she asked in a hushed voice.

“Because you were. I still don’t quite understand why you decided to help us - to help me, but you did.” He seemed to remember something, and handed her a small purse. “It’s only right that you get something in return.”

A bag of gold sat in the palm of his hand, heavy and full. She paled, suddenly ill at ease. Was he giving her his savings?

“Rolan, no. I can’t accept it.” It was absurd. Actually, it was offensive.

His eyes darkened.

“No? Is that not good enough for you?”

“On the contrary, it’s way too much. Really, I… I don’t need gold. I don’t, I swear.”

She didn’t know how to explain to him that the sum he was handing her was probably less than her weekly allowance as a teen.

Not that she was the kind of selfless person who refused to be paid for her services. Quite the opposite, actually: half her life so far had been dedicated to finding ways of getting and spending money, without any concern in the world for those who didn’t have any.

But, well. Being catapulted in the middle of a refugee camp without any gold piece to spare had somewhat altered her perspective, and now she did feel bad about taking money from people in need when she knew her own coffers were still overflowing at home.

“I don’t need a reward,” she continued. “You keep it, for you, and Lia and Cal, for when—”

“Take it, Tav.” He cut her, annoyance sharp in his voice. Clearly, he would obviously feel beyond insulted if she refused it, but at the same time, she really didn’t need it. Although, it could benefit the group, if only temporarily…

She chewed on her bottom lip, indecisive, before reluctantly taking the coin purse from him, swearing to herself that she’d find a way to give it back somehow. Her obedience seemed to please him, and he gave her a satisfied smirk that ignited a fire in her belly, a violent desire coursing through her veins.

She wanted to know how his lips would feel against hers, how his body would react to her touch; to see pleasure etched over his handsome features and to hear him say all those nice things again, and then some. To see him happy, pleased; to make him lose his composure and show him how good it would feel to not be a stuck-up prick.

She wanted to kiss him - she really did.

And she wanted it now, even if he hated her.

She had dealt with worse than that.

“I didn’t tell Cal and Lia about what happened,” she said instead, inching just a bit closer, batting her eyelashes just so - giving him that one sultry look that always got her tangled in bedsheets under an hour.

“I know,” he said with a strained smile.

“You’re welcome,” she teased.

He let out a breathy laugh.

“I thanked you once already. Don’t be greedy.”

A glint of mischief burned in his eyes and she felt herself smirk, the flames of desire burning brighter. Oh, she was greedy alright - all she needed was a sign that he wasn’t just being polite, something, anything to let her know that he was also curious about her, and she would show him exactly just how greedy she could be.

— Read the rest on AO3 :)

#rolan x tav #holy rolan empire #rolan nation #series:forbidden fire #fic:wild winds #fic:through shadows #tag:writing #baldur's gate 3 #bg3 rolan

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thesinglesjukebox · 8 months

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SOPHIE ELLIS-BEXTOR - "MURDER ON THE DANCEFLOOR" (2001) (2024)

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23 years on and this groove's still got some life in it...

[7.11]

Thomas Inskeep: Sophie Ellis-Bextor should've been the next Kylie — and for a couple years, almost was. Her 2001 debut album Read My Lips spun off a trio of top 3 singles in the UK, including this one, which has over time become her true classic. Dua Lipa's entire career was birthed in this single, the dictionary definition of ebullient dance-pop. (It's fitting that Lipa's "Houdini" is currently the most-played song on UK radio as this single is re-ascendant.) SEB has never gone anywhere: she's still making music, touring (based on her 2022 Sophie Ellis-Bextor's Kitchen Disco (Live at the London Palladium), she still sounds great), and is now a DJ on BBC Radio 2. She just didn't become the massive pop star she deserved to be. Now, thanks to its placement in a climactic scene in Saltburn, her greatest single is getting its flowers, climbing back up to #2 in the UK (so far — my fingers are crossed it can make it that final notch higher). "Dancefloor" still sounds fresh, certainly fresher than the glut of '90s-sampling dance-pop dominating the UK charts. This single sparkles, SEB giving a knowing wink as she sings, especially on the line "gonna burn this goddamn house right down." She knows what she's doing here: making magic. [10]

Edward Okulicz: I bought this on single back in 2002, which tells you something (other than that I am old): it was an irresistible bit of sparkly disco radio pop back in the day. Move it forward or backwards a few years and it might have been an indie rock song for someone else, a filter house record, or (gulp) a Ronan Keating record. Fortunately that never occurred, and it's a delight to see a classic gain new fans from age groups and territories that didn't get it on saturation rotation. Part of it's the solid song by Gregg Alexander, who at his best was a master craftsman of a much-maligned form. Another part of it's the much nimbler, slinky production compared to the rest of his soft-rock oeuvre. And a very, very large part of it is the Debbie-Harry-but-English pose of Ellis-Bextor, too cool to do anything but be filmed dancing from the waist up while she stomps her heel into your eardrums. "Murder" really has everything — a catchy chorus, the tinniest guitar solo ever, hooks that fall as much off the words as the melody — and so is perfect for every occasion, even a movie I am never, ever going to see. [10]

Alfred Soto: Like the Pet Shop Boys' "Rent," waaayyyy too good for Saltburn — perhaps Emerald Fennell thought their incandescence would rub off on her as if it were glitter. Part of a vanished climate of French house-inspired crossover pop like Kylie Minogue's "Love at First Sight," Sophie Ellis-Bextor presages Katy B's regular-person anonymity: she surveys the strings and rhythm guitar licks like a party hostess keeping an eye on the band while sipping her prosecco. [8]

Alex Clifton: I haven't seen Saltburn and frankly have no interest in it, but this film has led to the Sophie Ellis-Bextor renaissance which is a net good for society. "Murder on the Dancefloor" is just brilliantly composed and produced; it feels as fresh today as it did twenty years ago. There are so many thrilling little moments from Ellis-Bextor's vocal delivery: the way her voice curves into "about your kiiiiiind," the little rasp in "there may be others," the little trill of "dancefloor" in the bridge. I feel so biased writing this review because I've literally been listening to this song since I was a kid, but I'm so jazzed about "Murder" finally receiving the love it deserves. [10]

Ian Mathers: How can you not love pop music when it'll randomly do things like this, suddenly giving us a song to review from before the earliest days of the Jukebox, that is here purely because of its use in a movie that I have not seen but am informed was probably picked on the basis of Ellis-Bextor's plot arc in the music video. And if I'm not willing to go to bat for it quite as hard as I would for "Running Up That Hill," I did love "Murder on the Dancefloor" in 2001 and it still sounds great now. I don't find myself having any reaction more complicated than happiness at hearing it again and that particular joy of people liking something you like. [8]

Nortey Dowuona: If you told me this came out in 2021 and Emerald Fennell asked Sophie to use it in her movie set in 2001 because it was just that on point in depicting the time, I would agree. Then after taking out my phone, I'd be punched in the face and meekly give up my phone. Then, after watching you sprint into a nightclub, I'd immediately thank goodness you didn't ask for the passcode and run like hell for the closest subway. I am three stops from home before I remember this did not actually come out in 2021; there are other Sophie Ellis-Bextor songs and jailbreaking is a thing now. [10]

Leah Isobel: RIP Mark Fisher. You would've written a hell of a blog post about Saltburn. [7]

Mark Sinker: Necessary digression 1: heraldry as a science in Europe is roughly 900 years old, a bright and stylised easy-read guide, highly rule-bound and policed, to class and land and title — which is to say to material history (its jargon-field is still mostly words not otherwise used in the UK since the 14th century; even property law is less lousy with extinct Norman French terms). And like many very aged things, it has necessarily also passed through phases and fashions, as technologies of display arrive and depart. In fact the first inkling I had that I wasn’t going to get on with Saltburn was the typeface chosen for the title on-screen at the outset. It’s a font with a fairly specific ill-set ungainliness to it: it wants to have the weight of "pleasingly and weirdly old; not how we do things now," but it might just as well be some off-the-peg super-modern studio confection — or even (though I slightly doubt this) something custom-fashioned purely for the film. There’s no discernible care to the choice. Necessary digression 2: back in the late '70s when Peter Saville was busily and insouciantly borrowing from this or that actual-real document or design, of such-and-such era, part of the point was the severity of the decontextualisation — except there was a rigour to the carelessness. The item was being supplied with an iconicity (the very word) pulling you in towards whatever the item was that Factory Records was then placing on the market. The surface glamour of the original was to be funneled through in such a way that its weight amplified only the new relationship. In fact (in its stylised easy-read way) Saville’s work was ruthlessly the opposite of heraldry, so very good at managing the ambient melancholy that suffuses the wider Factory moment; all the blocks and counterspells necessary to conjure here beyond the end of creative time as the context for the music to have presence. Anyway, long story short (lol) Saltburn – which would love to believe it has accessed the aura, for example, of the cover of New Order’s Technique — is attempting to juggle the same double burden. It wants to conjure a play between the decontextualised pull of 24-hour-party-people hedonism and the real ineluctable unremovable weight of actual history and actual class and actual land and actual title. Except for its story to work it needs both dimensions (hedonism and weight; heraldry and careless scribble) to register, as Saville absolutely didn’t. No block, no counterspells, nothing to dampen the disturbances — so when poor old Sophie EB’s voice and poise are scalpeled out of their 20-year-old chart context and abruptly c/p-ed into whichever late-stage scene it is, well, here they are, as a clumsy synopsis (calculation, side-eye, dancing, death) the structure really shouldn’t require, in a role the song is the wrong mood (a faintly gauche trifle, a chirpy hustle) to deliver. The movie never works out where it gets its deep reveal from, or what shape its politics are (if politics is even a useful word here). Ill-set ungainliness all over again: the carelessness floods back into the borrowed adornment, and breaks it in pieces. I don’t even love this song that much but I hate how it gets what value it has so gracelessly driven out of it. [2]

Jacob Satter: At the risk of killing the groove, this is a pretty boring choice for a manufactured revival track. Call me back when the kids discover "It's In Our Hands." [4]

Jacob Sujin Kuppermann: I'm glad everyone's having fun here but the more I try to enjoy this — either on its own terms or as an icon of nostalgia — I get nothing. Unremarkable in any year. [4]

Lauren Gilbert: It was a [10] in 2001, it's still a [10] now. [10]

Katherine St. Asaph: The thing about it being 2024 is that in the intervening 20-plus years since "Murder on the Dancefloor" came out, approximately ninety million more disco-revival tracks came out. Some of them are by Sophie Ellis-Bextor, even. And so many of those tracks are smooth where this is stiff, magisterial where this is timid (and not in a winsome Katy B kind of way; Katy got better arrangements), charged where this is inert and just generally unmurderous. It's actually startling how inessential this sounds by comparison. [3]

Oliver Maier: Even as a youth, before my brain was burdened with indulgent critical vocabulary, I felt like this song just didn't work. I can't pin down whether "Murder" is knowingly a little chintzy (dare I say camp?) or if it's just cheap tat trying sincerely to sound boutique. Benefit of the doubt granted or not, Ellis-Bextor sounds like she's doing karaoke off the sofa. [4]

Michael Hong: When Ellis-Bextor pauses, it's easy, like a quick and graceful end to a conversation rather than the expectant response to her more spirited word choice. She's committed to this casualness, easily slipping away at the hint of a faux pas, which makes the occasional lingering word more charming. "About your kind," she sings, as if looking you up and down, wondering if she's got it wrong this time; the word "others" is trailed as if she's daring you to eliminate the competition. In that way, "you better not kill the groove," delivered with such nonchalance, becomes a fervid instruction. [7]

Will Adams: It's cute, Sophie is ever-charming, but there's real problem when you've got songs in your catalog with titles like "Bittersweet" and "Heartbreak Make Me a Dancer" that offer way more palpable drama than the one with the word "Murder." [5]

Joshua Minsoo Kim: Every other line is threatening here. “Stay another song,” “Don’t think you’ll get away,” “You better not kill the groove.” Sophie Ellis-Bextor isn’t demanding fear, though. That’s what makes “Murder on the Dancefloor” so irresistible: she sounds like a friend, albeit one who’s deathly serious about having a good time. When you hear her, you believe it can be this good for you too. [8]

Taylor Alatorre: Wow. They were allowed to make these slick disco-pop reimaginings with actual guitar solos back then? We must retvrn. [8]

Tara Hillegeist: It feels like a time capsule from another era in pop music entirely, because it is. There was a time when Ellis-Bextor's stately, imperial, nigh-inhuman precision of a delivery felt like nothing so much as the edifice within which pop star royalty could be crowned, particularly in the world of UK pop; it's still hard, even now, to deny the simple pleasures of someone who knows what her job is and then executes it flawlessly. But it's been over two decades since this song originally bowed, and it must be said that it was the impact of songs like, yes, "Murder" itself that raised pop music's skill floor high enough that such icy professionalism now feels like the most tiresome part of it — Dua Lipa does this regularly, after all, and with equal anonymity. No, what saves it, and ensures the song remains nothing so much as a delightful diversion (conditions of its resurgence be damned, I say), are the sampled whoops that come in beneath the guitar solo; notwithstanding that such a slice of controlled disco can credit itself with having a guitar solo to begin with, but the canned hype is such a stupendously goofy touch. It humanizes the song instantly, stripping the archness of its artifice aside to reveal the awkward smile underneath. The moment passes, of course. But the smile lingers. [7]

Anna Katrina Lockwood: I've been waiting 20+ years for an opportunity to issue a dissertation on the songwriting genius of Gregg Alexander and by god am I ready. Though it's hard to imagine it in a different form, "Murder on the Dancefloor" was apparently a cast-off single for Alexander's New Radicals debut, replaced by the equally glorious "You Get What You Give" — like, imagine being such a talented songwriter that you can just cast off a song like this, knowing you've got an equally great one to replace it with! "Murder on the Dancefloor" is just perfection in Ellis-Bextor's hands, with a galaxy of terrific choices in its production to go along with the amazing melodic structure. I still can't help but burst out laughing at the initial vocal hit in the intro on occasion, a perfect, delicately harmonized coo of "Murder!," cutting through the disco instrumental setup occurring all around. It's as great a moment of pop songwriting as I'm aware of — setting the expectation of the song's vibe from the outset. Ellis-Bextor's lyrics are outstanding, cleverly arch but not too shiny, in the thick of it yet also gliding past suavely. The song is incredibly detailed, a carefully calibrated piece — it lopes by with a relaxed stride rather than a reckless dash, a well-tailored Savile Row suit as opposed to an H&M tunic, cut to the millimeter. Yet it's also very clearly of the disco, built for singing along, difficult to avoid dancing to when it comes on. It turns on its heel at moments' notice, with layers of melody playing off each other throughout. Matt Rowe's efforts in production also deserve notice — this song sounds great, so distinctive that it is still eminently listenable 23 years on. I honestly have not a single thing to criticize about "Murder on the Dancefloor," and it's been a long time that I've considered it to be one of the truly great pop songs of my lifetime. It feels like incredibly just desserts to see it garnering so much praise now. [10]

[Read, comment and vote on The Singles Jukebox ]

#sophie ellis-bextor #saltburn #music #pop #pop music #music writing #music reviews #music criticism #the singles jukebox #Youtube

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asexual-doctor · 2 months

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Season 9

Day of the Daleks 🌕🌕🌗🌑🌑

I liked the possible future, under Dalek domination, and how coming back in time to change it actually makes the very thing they were trying to prevent happen. The Daleks are back, but I wished they’d had more of a confrontation with the Doctor, it all felt a bit rushed here. Also, I was very upset by the fact that Three refuses to kill one man to save millions (even though it wouldn’t have changed anything) because it’s wRoNg but half an hour before, he shot and killed several Ogrons and this was never addressed. I’m sorry, I love you Three, but just fuck you. All in all, this episode is ok but not really memorable either.

The Curse of Peladon 🌕🌕🌕🌕🌑

Sorry, I lost my fucking mind every time King Peladon’s thighs appeared, who in hell thought that this would make a king look respectable and not look like a fucking slut? Anyway. I liked this episode, especially the political aspect of it all, even though it was a tad predictable. I liked Jo here, she finally felt deeper, I hope this trend will continue from now on. The Ice Warriors are back and they’re nice, why not? But it kind of physically hurt me to hear them talk. And we have the Venusian lullaby, and if I still prefer Paul McGann’s version, this one (the original you might say) is also very very good.

The Sea Devils 🌕🌕🌕🌕🌗

Until the end, I was expecting to see the Brig and UNIT arrive on white horses to rescue the Doctor (and the Master). So I was a bit disappointed when they didn't. But apart from that, I loved this episode and that's not surprising as it has everything I love: a sea mystery, the sea devils, and the Master (Delgado, please). I love the Master even though his schemes are always the same, this idiot NEVER learns and I love his relationship with Three: the sword fight (was this scene completely necessary? No. Would it have been a great loss if it hadn't been included twice? Yes.), the touching and the collaborating at the end ("we can both die or both escape" you morons deserve to die for giving me so many emotions I can't handle too many emotions, I'm emotionally impaired). Anyway. I also really liked Jo here, the way she helps the Doctor to escape and that scene with them communicating through the window ... hum ... Ten and Donna ... hum.

The Mutants 🌕🌕🌕🌑🌑

This episode is weird. The writers, director, and producers were obviously on drugs when this was written/shot. And luckily, it's an old case of it's so bad that it's actually good. It's camp, it's gay (excuse you, you can't tell me it's not: rainbow mutants and gay couple with Stubbsy and Cotton), the mutants are very ugly and yet I can't help but love them, especially their relationship with Sondergaard (who is a hippie). And the plot is actually interesting and well-handled! And I'm falling hard for Three, I think he might be joining Eight and Twelve up the mountain of my adoration.

The Time Monster 🌕🌕🌕🌕🌗

Oh wow this is so gay, it was delightful. I watched this episode in one go (almost) and kept laughing my ass out. I mean, it has everything: Three being rude to the Brig, TOMTIT, the Master being a pacifist, the temporal sensor thingy, the Brig calling Yates "Mike" and checking out his injuries, baby Benton, two TARDISes inside one another, pigeon!Chronos and genderless!Chronos, "groovy", ... I love everything about this episode, I love Three, I love the Brig, I love the Master. The only negative thing was the parts in Atlantis that I found a tiny bit less interesting but really, a very very good episode all the way

#doctor who #three #third doctor #jo grant #brigadier alistair gordon lethbridge stewart #mike yates #john benton #the master #delgado!master #threegado #classic who

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just-my-latest-hyperfixation · 5 months

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Congrats on the (well-deserved) 1k! Can't miss that opportunity to ask you stuff >w< 🧠 What's a random little headcanon from (You got me) in the palm of your hand that you didn't get to include, a scene you scrapped or a detail you changed?

✍️ What was your writing process like for Hic sunt dracones?

💀 Would you rather drink tea or coffee?

Thank you so much for the kind words and for the questions! 🥰💖

🧠

Altogether, there was not a lot I scrapped but rather a lot I added. The original outline for this fic was four chapters rather than the six and an epilogue it ended up with, but then the sex scene spiraled out of control (like they tend to do), and then Steve wanted to visit Eddie in his rent before Nancy showed up, and then the platonic soulmates wanted to have a moment in Robin's bedroom and how could I say no to extra Stobin?😅

I'm still very happy with how the fic turned out bc I really like the pacing and I think the extra bits really add to the character dynamics. 🥰

✍️

Oh my God, here we go!

So, everyone is gonna laugh at me now, but when I first thought of that story, I thought it would be SHORT! 🤣

When I started writing, I had everything up to Eddie’s first shift and the fullmoon sex scene planned out, and I thought it would be a relatively quick write that I just needed to get out of my system.

By the time I finished chapter 1, I began to realize that this would … not be the case. 😅 The thing kept getting longer and longer and the backstory and world building kept getting more and more complex, and that poor guy was still stuck in dragon form. 😂

By the time I finally got to the big reveal, I had a solid idea of the ending I wanted (dramatic tower plummet, followed by happy end and throne sex), but the in-between was very, very foggy, and remained like that until I wrote the escape scene almost. (The outline for the entire middle part literally read “they hang out at the lair and fuck a lot” for the longest time. It gave me massive anxiety.) It literally all fell into place when I figured out the role I wanted Wayne to play, and from that moment on, it finally came together. (Except for chapter 13, aka the longest fight scene in existence, which felt like I was bodily wrestling it out of my brain and into the doc.)

The flower crown, btw? Not mentioned in the outline with a single word, I only thought of adding that about one chapter prior. 😅🌸

💀

I'm a coffee gal through and through. There's one brand of tea I'd kill for, though - mango and ginger flavored. I can drink that stuff like water.

I'm celebrating 1k followers - let's chat! 💖

#steddie #steve x eddie #steve harrington x eddie munson #steddie brainrot #steddie fanfic #fanfiction writer #fanfiction #fanfic #my writing #1k followers #asks and replies #hic sunt dracones #(you got me) in the palm of your hand

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sakee21 · 1 year

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SEVENTEEN - F*ck My Life MV

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Oh my gosh... I really had to make a (long) post about this song and the MV because the MV references the movie called "The Truman Show" which is a touching classic movie, the message and the lyrics of the song really hit so hard, and the whole production of the MV is top-notch and SVT's acting in here deserves to be appreciated, like it was really like a short film or something. It was really amazing in my opinion.

So first, for the Truman Show references that I can remember (cuz it was fun to look for them haha).

(SOME SPOILERS FOR THE MOVIE AHEAD!)

Plot summary for those unfamiliar with it: the movie was about an ordinary man named Truman who has a stable job, a lovely wife and a loyal best friend. However, it seems that something was not right with his almost "perfect" life when he began to notice unusual things happening around him, such as a mysterious object falling from the sky

and rain pouring down on a certain spot only.

It turns out that the movie is set in the future and Truman is the star of a reality tv show that is being broadcast to the whole world.

His whole surroundings is just a giant tv set made with advanced technology, the people around him (including his family, friends, coworkers) are just actors hired to play certain roles, and since his birth he was living a fake life made by the show's creator/director.

However, this didn't mean that Truman's feelings, emotions, and experiences were fake because he once fell in love with an extra actor named Sylvia. But since she wasn't the intended love interest for Truman (and because she was trying to help him get out of his fake life), she was forcefully removed from the show.

The pin during Joshua's scene is a reference to the pin that Sylvia wore in the movie.

Becoming confused by what is real or fake and driven by his desire to find Sylvia (his true love), Truman began to go against the rules and goes missing. He decided to run away using a boat and crosses the ocean (which he is afraid of because of a trauma he had when he was young).

Of course the show's creator didn't want this to happen, so he made a storm happen to discourage Truman and change his mind.

The final part of the movie showed Truman fighting against his fears; him hitting the edge of his world, the "sky" (which is actually just a backdrop wall) and realizing that he was indeed living in a fake world; his desire for freedom; and him ultimately making the choice to open the door to the outside world and go live his own life.

I think the overall message of the movie (and especially the ending) fits really well with the message that SVT's wants to convey in the song, which is to fight for your own life and find your true self, just like Truman. In SVT's own words:

From now on I'll fight for my life

For my own good, fight for my life

We'rе so used to feeling numb in this life

Now I just wanna find myself

Now for some additional thoughts:

Though the overall message of "F*ck My Life" can be applied to almost any person's life, I also can't help but have a bit of comparison to Truman and the world of k-pop idols. We are familiar that k-pop idols broadcast a part of their lives to us, the viewers. And like the audience of Truman's show, fans learn to laugh with them, cry with them, grow with them. They share a lot of things to us and we develop an attachment to our idols. Though this isn't necessarily a bad thing, we have to remember that k-pop idols are still real people living in the real world, and like Truman, they have their own desires and happiness that they want to find and achieve. So as fans, the least we can do is give them the privacy and respect they deserve and let them live the lives they want to live. We don't have the right to tell them what they should do or how they should act or who they should only interact with. If we do so, we are no different from the creator of Truman's show, who wants to cage him inside the fictional world that he created. The idol life is already a f*cked up world as it is, hopefully we shouldn't make it more difficult.

Aaaaaand that's the end of this essay lol (I honestly don't know how to end this well 😅english is not easy). Tho this felt all over the place and the ending got kinda preachy, but idk SVT's song and mv just made me think of these thoughts. I'm glad they released a song and MV like this. I was already SUPER amazed by "Super" but I think I really became more of their fan because of "F*ck My Life". Hopefully the message they want to convey can reach a lot of people, and hopefully SVT themselves can find their true happiness just like Truman.

#Youtube #kpop #seventeen #svt #f*ck my life #seventeen fml #the truman show #noooo im not crying #svt i hope you'll always be happy #thank you for showing us a new side of yours #and hopefully you'll achieve greater things and your music reach more people #k now im just being corny lol #and kinda cringey but idc!!!!!!

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casspurrjoybell-22 · 5 months

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The Art of Sin - Chapter 18 - Part 1

•Bain López (Werewolf)

•Noir Laurent (Dark Elf & Sun Elf)

*Warning Adult Content*

My mind felt heavy yet my body was light, as if it wasn't even there.

I saw yet I couldn't at the same time.

Everything was white, a blinding white that would have made me close my eyes but I couldn't seem to move my body.

I couldn't even tell if I had one.

'Am I dead?'

The thought struck me, my mind racing to try and unravel the confusion that was my memories.

Slowly, I started to string together what was my life.

There wasn't any order though.

I couldn't remember the order.

Scenes both disturbing and wonderful played out in my attempt to remember.

I was disgusted by most of them, wanting nothing else then to turn away and bask in this white world.

I couldn't though.

In between the bad, I saw images that made me unbelievably happy.

I was surrounded by people who cared for me, who I cared for.

It was enough to make me keep going.

I began to piece together my existence starting from when I was a child to what I was sure happened recently.

Then the final piece fell into place.

My family held by men.

Their pleas for me to stop.

What did they want me to stop?

Oh. I remember.

Oberous, the vampire the other men followed, was using my body.

It was my plan but I didn't want it.

I hated what I was doing, what my family was forced to see.

It was disgusting.

Even as I took Oberous's life force, I felt shame.

I couldn't help but be happy as I curled up on the floor in agony, choking up blood, as if it were some sort of punishment.

A punishment I still felt I deserved, even in this weird place.

"You wish for punishment?" the voice echoed through the white space, slipping into my ear like a whisper.

I knew who it was immediately.

Oberous.

I didn't panic, knowing exactly what was happening.

"You cannot hurt me in my own mind. Even as we speak, your life force is being broken down and soon you'll be no more."

He chuckled, making me uneasy.

"Ah but you forget, I'll become a part of you. Since we'll be together for a long, long time, how about I tell you about myself?"

I was unable to stop the flood of images from appearing, similar to how I had pieced together my life.

This, however, was much more gruesome.

There was blood, so much of it.

Almost every scene was one of murder, of him ripping into someone for the simple joy of killing.

He didn't need to feed.

He didn't need anything.

I felt nauseated as they continued.

I didn't know how time flowed where I was but it felt like an eternity.

An eternity of blood.

Through it all, he laughed.

He laughed at the disgust that I felt.

He laughed at the expressions of his victims.

It stopped when Lord Nikoli came into view, however.

********

A man, beating him by only an inch in height but by a lot in brawn, stood before a younger Oberous.

The man stared at him and he trembled beneath his gaze, one he loved, one he hated.

Eyes so similar to his own yet completely opposite, held indifference.

"Why?" Oberous whispered, still not looking at the man.

"Why won't you love me, Nikoli?"

Lord Nikoli sighed, running a hand through his hair as the corners of his mouth pulled into a frown.

"It's not that I won't but can't. Love cannot be forced."

"BUT YOU'VE SLEPT WITH COUNTLESS OTHERS."

Lord Nikoli's eyes snapped to the now burning ones of Oberous.

There was no love, there never had been though Oberous had claimed there was.

He did not love Lord Nikoli though try as he might to convince everyone including himself.

He loved the power of having Lord Nikoli, one of the most powerful of their kind, as a lover.

He wanted the respect, the fear, that came with it and for that, Lord Nikoli denied him.

"Fine," there was a dark look in Oberous's eye.

"One day, one day I'll be as powerful as you. I'll find you just to show you that I didn't need you or your love and when I do, Oh you're going to regret it."

With that, he stormed off, leaving Lord Nikoli standing there with suspicion in his eyes, eyes that didn't miss anything.

Not even the slight trembling in Oberous' body or the single tear that made its way down his cheek.

********

Silence.

Neither of us spoke.

"Was that really the reason you came here? Why you did those things? Because Nikoli denied you?"

I felt rage, more than I'd felt in years.

The air around me seemed electrified, sizzling with my fury as what he did, what I did, came back to me.

The pain he caused, the pain my family felt, was because Lord Nikoli wouldn't take him as a lover.

"It's pathetic."

"DON'T YOU DARE TELL ME THAT."

Everything went dark as his voice thundered out with such venom that it stunned me.

The white became an inky black.

My light body suddenly became heavy.

The air was muggy and weighed me down, slowly my thoughts.

It got worse as Oberous spoke.

"He was my everything. I did whatever I could to please him, to make him happy and do you think he cared? No. He ignored my love for him. He destroyed it and turned it into hatred. So I decided to destroy his love."

He chuckled darkly, revealing scene after scene.

In each one, he watched from a distance.

It took me a moment to realize that in every one, Lord Nikoli was the focus, Lord Nikoli and the others.

One scene, in particular, stopped me cold.

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getmemymicroscope · 2 years

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The movie was, of course, amazing. The tribute(s) to Chadwick Boseman - the moment of silence at the 'Marvel' opening credits, the celebration of life as the movie begins, the moment of silence at the end, the flashback to some of his scenes - were all brilliantly done, brilliantly handled, and very, very emotional. This did that magnificently. And the turn-around, to take this movie and turn it from Chadwick Boseman-led Black Panther to what we got - well, that was fantastically done too.

The story, meanwhile, was also pretty great - sure, it's a superhero movie, but it's also about people (many people, in fact) dealing with loss. Dealing with it poorly, in some instances, but dealing nonetheless. Shuri, especially, deals with it very poorly - up until she doesn't - but I guess that is to be expected. There's been a lot of loss she's had to deal with, and in pretty quick succession at that. And, to that extent, the bringing back of Kilmonger in the way they did was very, very well handled as well and, once she figures it out, pretty damn impactful.

There's something to be said, in that regard, of her hiding the truth from the others, but then ... it's also a movie. And maybe she just doesn't fully trust them.

Interested in Ironheart, for sure.

What really stood out to me, almost from the start (because of the way the movie plays) is that when she first comes across the 'villains,' the lady describing them just describes them as "blue people." Which is, well, accurate, but more to the point - it would appear that this MCU world does not have the 'Avatar' movies in it. Because that description is not used by anyone, anywhere, at any point in the movie. Odd, since it's also a Disney franchise (and was also releasing a movie soon after), but then, I guess maybe Disney didn't want them to be associated with the 'bad guys.' But still, they have MIT and Anderson Cooper and Boston, you'd think they also have James Cameron.

More frustratingly I think, MCU-wise, is the 'twist' at the end with Namor, which pretty much ends with him being set up as possibly being a returning villain and only agreeing to a truce to hold it over people later (or, well, to exploit at future times). The MCU is getting way too big with all these 'take over the world' characters, and while I understand that that's what superheroes fight and what the MCU needs, it feels like they're just getting too big by expanding into the universe (Kang?, Guardians 3, the Eternals), the multiverse (wherever Strange is going next), the quantumverse (Kang, again), and underwater on Earth (Namor). And, of course, the many evil people already on the land parts of Earth. Like, if anything, you'd have thought that this entire episode, including that final fight scene, might've made him sorta turn good, or at least an ally with Wakanda, and not just 'friends with benefits.' But maybe it's just me - I just, by the end, was sorta done with them and with Shuri not realizing that she was, in fact, turning into yet another Kilmonger.

I'm not sure it tops No Way Home as best Phase 4 movie for me, simply because No Way Home had the return of so many familiar faces who deserved better from the Spider-man universe (not to mention, a sort of redemption for the Amazing version) and reconnecting with childhood (or around there) memories. But that's not to take away from this movie, which was absolutely amazing and really a complete marvel through and through.

#movies #movieblr #gmmm does movies

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duskholland · 4 years

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The Fame Game (Part Nine) - Tom Holland

Summary ↠ Breaking up is hard. But breaking up with your fake boyfriend, with whom you’ve fallen irrevocably and painfully in love with? It’s almost impossible.

Warnings ↠ Angst, Y/N’s being stubborn but can we blame her? Cursing and crying. All the good stuff.

Word count ↠ 5.2k

A/N ↠ This part? Emotional rollercoaster and a half. We’re almost at the end of the story, though! :((( Only part ten and the epilogue to go, and I am not okay. Crazy crazy crazy. Anyway, buckle in and enjoy part nine :)

NINE: Expiration Date (Y)

It’s raining in London. Tracks of grey, miserable water stream down the dirty window, obscuring the view of the city beyond. Your fingers are cold as you hold a mug of stale tea, the liquid pale and long-past its best. You’d poured it an hour ago, intending to throw it back and pull yourself out of your stupor, but you’d failed.

Today is the end of your relationship with Tom - the expiration date, as your team likes to call it. In a move of obscene pathetic fallacy, the weather curled across London seems to emanate your innermost thoughts. It’s cloudy and grey, darkness settled across the sky. In the distance, the clouds grow blacker, and a part of you wonders if it’ll thunder later.

You feel a tear slip from one of your eyes, and the warm line traces down your cheek as you sniffle. With slow movements, you finally put down the mug, crossing your arms over your chest as you continue to stare out of the window, vacantly. You’re in your London flat, your belongings in boxes around you. With the conclusion of a final filming project comes the end of your lease, and when you leave London tonight on a plane, you leave behind your flat, your job, and your boyfriend.

Your boyfriend.

Your fake boyfriend, who sometimes acts like your real boyfriend, but has made it all too clear that he is only, only, only your fake boyfriend.

A scowl springs out across your face, and your fingers curl into fists at your sides.

You thought you’d been hurt by Tom before. For years, you’ve felt anger towards him - resentment, irritation, burning frustration. You’ve cursed him out on countless occasions, publicly denounced him, and watched on as he’s returned every move you’ve made against him with equal ferocity. At almost every given opportunity, Tom has launched blow after blow at you, but you’d taken it. You had accepted that that was just your relationship - that sometimes two people don’t get along, and sometimes they thrive off irritating the other. His insults didn’t touch you - not really, not like this. They’d riled you up and they’d made you seethe, but they were just insults - just empty, irritating insults, which you’d returned with a smile on your face. But now…

For the first time, Tom Holland has actually broken your heart.

It’s painful when you think about him, as you cast your mind back to your last day together. You’d been so excited, so hopeful, when you’d turned up at his place in LA, and as he’d laid you down and you’d held one another, you’d felt the love you have for him grow. Each time he’d kissed you, you felt your love deepen. Each pass of his hands over your skin made your heart race, your mind shake. You’d been waiting on the right time to open your mouth, say the three golden words, and then propose giving your relationship a real shot, only for Tom to jump the gun and tell you that he, in fact, loved you.

To have Tom stand opposite you and tell you that he loves you - only to immediately follow it up with a retraction - has shattered you. You can’t stop thinking about the moment that you’d let yourself believe, for one brief, shocking second, that Tom reciprocated your love - that Tom had softened out, and grown to love you, too. His words had knocked you off-guard, but fuck, if they weren’t the sweetest three words you’d ever heard. You’d been fully prepared to drop everything and jump into his arms, only for him to add--

“No… Wait, no.”

You are upset. You are so fucking angry. You are a whirlwind of tears and clenched fists and stiff jaws. The more you contemplate it, the hollower you feel. You have never known heartbreak as pronounced as this.

You hate the power that you’ve given Tom. Hate that you’d walked straight into this, eyes open. You can’t even blame it on blind infatuation, because you’d been aware at every moment how dangerous your budding feelings were, just you’d chosen to ignore the warning signals, too distracted by Tom’s easy smile and his kisses. You hate that you let him break your heart, hate that he’s emerged from this unscathed when you feel the weakest you’ve ever been.

But above all, you hate that you don’t hate him. It would be so easy to slip back into old habits, to return to that blind, festering hatred that used to roar through your veins at the mere mention of his name. You can’t return to that, and every time you try to drum up some anger towards Tom, you’re instead reminded of how nice, and funny, and sweet he can be.

You release a shaky breath. It’s your expiration date, today. All that’s left of your relationship is a visit to Tom’s house to collect your things, and a few pap photographs of you leaving his place, in pieces. There’s no doubt in your mind that the paparazzi will find it convincing: you’ve been a mess for days, your tears will be real. You’re full of apprehension and rattled nerves about seeing him again, about walking back into his house knowing it’ll be the last time and having to act like he hasn’t reached into your chest and ripped out your heart.

You are an actor, to your core, but your role within this relationship has been your hardest performance to date - and you have the sinking suspicion that not even you can pull off the denouement.

The paparazzi are already outside Tom’s as you walk down his front path, raindrops bouncing off your jacket. The flashes from their cameras illuminate the garden, and your eyes hurt as the light glints off the collection of small garden gnomes Harrison and Tom keep in front of their house. You’re quick to drum your knuckles on the front door, tugging on the chords of your hood and trying to shy away from the yelling journalists.

After what feels an eternity, the door is opened. Tom stares out at you, eyes widening as he takes in the pouring rain.

“Shit, it’s wet today, isn’t it?” He mutters, quickly moving aside. You hurry into the house, sighing contentedly as the warmth envelops you. You kick off your shoes, but your fingers are frozen solid and you can’t quite tug the zip of your coat. “Do you need help?”

You glance up, seeing Tom eyeing your shivering fingers as you try and fail to release the slippery zip. “Yeah,” you mutter, quickly glancing away. It’s not your intention to stay long, but you’re not so inconsiderate that you’d traipse through Tom’s entire house in a dripping jacket.

You stay very still as Tom steps forward, one of his hands holding the bottom of your jacket as the other goes up to the zip. His tongue slips out between his teeth, and a deep crease appears between his eyebrows as he grasps the zip and carefully tugs it down. A smile splits over his face, and you sigh as the coat releases.

“There you go.” Tom doesn’t stop there, though. He goes so far as to help you wiggle out of the jacket, and even hangs it up on the peg for you. The same peg you’d used when you’d stayed with him a few months ago. Your peg. “So.” Tom rocks back on his feet, looking at you through narrowed eyes. “Why haven’t you been answering my texts?”

You clear your throat, crossing your arms over your chest. “What?”

“Y/N.” Tom steps a little closer, his eyes wide with hurt. “My calls, too. I really needed to talk to you.”

“Sorry,” you fib. You’re not sorry, not even one bit. Every time you’d watched your phone go through to answerphone, you’d felt a little stronger. “I’ve been busy.”

“Doing what?”

“Oh, you know. Stuff.”

Tom frowns at you. “Well, I needed to talk to you.”

“Yeah, you said that.” You clear your throat, shaking out your arms as you try to lighten the air between you. You hadn’t meant to come into your last encounter with Tom with so much hostility on your shoulders, but being so close to him again makes your chest ache. “Sorry,” you mutter. “What did you want to talk about?”

Tom nods his head. “Well, it’s… It’s complicated.” Now he’s hesitant, with reluctance clinging to his features. You feel irritation stir inside as you watch him fluster. All you want to do is get this over and done with, so you can leave his house before you start crying again. You don’t want to drag this out.

“Well, can we talk about it as I pack my things?” You ask, your voice clipping a little at the edges.

“Uh, yeah, I guess.” Tom moves out of the way, letting you into the main body of the house. “What do they want us to do, again?”

You bite your lip as you see the photograph that hangs from the wall in the hallway. It’s new, and it shows you, Harrison and Tom, laying out together on one of their sofas. You remember the night well: Harry had taken the picture, teased Tom for the way he’d got you wrapped up in his arms and refused to let go for the duration of the scary film you were all watching. On your other side is Harrison, glaring at you and Tom, mock outrage on his face. It was a good night - near the end of your trip to London, back when things were better.

“Did they send you a box?” You say, voice vacant. You can’t stop looking at the photo, at the way Tom has his face buried in your neck. You look so happy. “They want me to put all my stuff in a box. Apparently, paps just need to see me leaving with all of my things, and then they’ll get the picture.”

“Pretty simple, then?” Tom drops down to his knees, beginning to rummage in the cupboard under the stairs until he procures a big red box. “This is the one they sent.” He passes it up to you. “Will that be big enough?”

“Yeah. I only have a few things here, I think.”

“Cool. Do you want to start upstairs?”

“Why not.”

You feel awkward as you slowly climb the staircase. The air between you is unsettled, and you can tell Tom’s hurt that you’re clearly less than enthused to be here. Part of you wants to soothe him, but the other part wants to run, run, run.

“Harrison not here?” You ask as you walk past his empty bedroom. You enter their spare room, which you’d been crashing in back when you’d stayed, and quickly start pulling out the odd book and bottle you’d left. Management had instructed you to leave a few things back when you’d left, and now you understand why.

“Nah, Liverpool,” Tom says. “It’s just me.” He sits on the edge of the bed, watching as you quickly pile everything into your box. “Look, Y/N, can we please talk?”

“I’m listening.”

“No, no.” Tom stands up, and you freeze as he reaches out for your arm. The second his warm fingers touch your skin, a lump comes to your throat. “I need to- we need to talk.” You stay completely still, closing your eyes as you feel him slide his hand up your arm. His palm rests on your shoulder, weighted and familiar, and the contact makes your heart pang.

“What do you want to talk about, Tom?” You ask, voice hoarse. You keep your eyes shut. The scent of his cologne is so familiar it brings back the tightness in your chest. You aren’t sure if you’re so upset because this is the last time you’ll be together, or if it has more to do with the fact that you can’t look at Tom without being reminded that he doesn’t love you.

“Come and sit down. I can make tea.”

You suck in a deep breath. “You know that I’m walking out of your house in ten minutes and probably never coming back again, yeah?” You mutter. “What’s so important that it deserves a cup of tea?”

Tom only chuckles, not seeming to mind the bitterness of your voice. “I’ll tell you. Over tea.” He squeezes your shoulder, and you finally open your eyes. Your vision swims with tears, but if he notices it, he doesn’t comment on it. “You can pack your stuff up here, and I’ll meet you in the living room. Okay?”

You nod. “Alright.”

You try to delay your conversation for as long as possible, which takes you on a short trip into Tom’s bedroom. In your defence, you don’t mean to snoop - you did, in fact, leave your favourite book on his desk - but you do also take the opportunity to have a little look around.

On Tom’s windowsill is a line of very dead plants, their leaves shrivelled and broken. You roll your eyes as you peer into the empty watering can, chuckling softly. Typical. On his desk is a pile of scripts, dog-eared and stained with the round marks of spilt tea, and crumpled clothes hang everywhere, shoved over various armrests and laying in heaps on the floor. Tom’s entire room is organised chaos.

What catches your eye, though, is the large shelf hammered into the wall. You’ve been in Tom’s room before, hell, you’d spent your last night in London in his bed, but you’d never taken the time to look up and examine this shelf. Settled in the middle of it, gathering dust, is Tom’s BAFTA. You sigh, and instinctively, you reach up and take it.

It’s heavy in your hands. You’ve felt it before, but you’d forgotten the weight of the blue glass trophy. When you’d last touched it, it’d been on the night of the show, and Tom had thrust it into your hands mockingly, making some flippant comment about it being a mark of his success. You’d immediately tossed it back at him, almost dropping it in the process, and shut him down with a snide remark.

Now, you run your thumbs over the award. The curves are smooth beneath your fingertips. You blink a few times, and two tears splash out onto the thing. As you rub them away, you take a deep, shuddering breath.

Pull yourself together, Y/N.

You swallow, and when you release a deep exhalation, you feel steadier. The award goes back to the shelf, and you pick up your box. Just ten more minutes. One conversation, one cup of tea, and ten more minutes. Then you can leave him behind.

How much can change in ten minutes, anyway?

There’s something melancholic about the way you find yourself sitting on Tom’s sofa, facing him again. You’re in the same position that you were in back when you’d customised your shoes together, before everything had gone to shit: you, leaning up against one armrest, Tom against the other, both of you with your legs outstretched and meeting in the middle. Tessa has staked her claim sitting on your feet, and as you sip nervously at your tea, you keep your eyes on her.

“So.” Tom’s fidgeting. If he’s not drumming his fingers over the ceramic of his mug, he’s picking at the strap of his watch. “I need to talk to you.”

You wince a smile. “Yeah, you keep saying that.” You take a sip of your tea. It’s still hot, and it burns the tip of your tongue, but part of you wants to down the whole thing just so you can leave. Being so close to him makes your chest sting.

Tom takes a deep breath. “I said something really stupid the last time we were together. I was… I was just going to leave it, but then I realised that doing that would be even more stupid,” he starts. Immediately, you feel yourself bristle. You can’t have this conversation again.

“We don’t need to talk about it, Tom,” you mutter. “What’s the point? I’m leaving soon.”

“Which is exactly why we need to talk about it, love.” Tom’s eyes are wide, a hint of desperation swirling in them. He sets his tea down on the coffee table and sits up straighter. “I didn’t mean it.”

You sigh, rubbing at your forehead as you feel another stab of pain in your chest. He’s really twisting the knife, now.

“I know,” you remind him. “You’ve already told me that you didn’t mean it.”

“No, no.” Tom shakes his head, running a hand through his curls. “No.” He’s visibly anxious, but you’re too perplexed to consider offering him any comfort. “I mean… I said I didn’t love you. Well, I said I loved you, and then I took it back.”

You release a sound somewhere between a whimper and a groan, and it brings on a fresh set of tears. “Yes, I remember, Tom.”

“Well, I was wrong.”

Very slowly, you look up at him. You put down the tea and bring your knees to your chest, staring at him through hard eyes.

“What?” You say, voice dull.

“I was wrong. I shouldn’t have taken it back.” “Tom.” You’re exasperated and confused. “What are you trying to say?”

“I love you, Y/N. I’m in love with you.”

Your eyebrows pull together. “What?”

“I love you.” Tom’s lips quirk into a soft, warm smile. “And- And I know you probably don’t feel the same way, and you probably don’t want to hear it, but I had to tell you before you leave. You have to know how I actually feel.” He sits forward, and his foot nudges your knee. “I love you. I’m sorry for being a dick, I just… I panicked, I guess.”

Your brain feels like it’s running slow, wading miles behind the rest of you. You’ve spent so many days coming to terms with the fact that Tom doesn’t love you that the evidence for the contrary isn’t sinking in.

“What- but you said that you didn’t love me?” You puzzle.

“I was wrong.”

You look at him. You look at him long and hard. Your eyes dissect the soft smile on Tom’s lips, the eagerness in his eyes, and the blush on his cheeks.

You don’t believe him.

“How can you get something like that wrong?” You ask him, frazzled. “Tom, I- I don’t know if I can trust anything that you say.”

Tom raises an eyebrow. “So you want it to be true?”

“What? Shut up, this isn’t about me.” You have a lump in your throat. “Tom, this is- this is about you, not knowing how you feel.”

“But I do know how I feel. I love you. I love you, I love you, I love you-”

“Stop.”

You can’t take it. With every repetition, it feels like Tom’s rubbing it in your face.

“Y/N?”

You stand up from the sofa, displacing Tessa who whimpers in response.

“You’re so cruel, Tom.”

Tom scrambles to his feet too, hopping as he regains his balance. He stands in front of you. “What? What do you mean?” His eyes are wide with hurt. “I’m being honest, Y/N. How is it cruel to love you?”

Tears form in your eyes.

“You don’t get to take it back. You… First, you said that you loved me. Do you… Do you know how happy that made me?” You screw your hands into fists, voice hoarse. “I thought, for a second, that you loved me. I really, really did. I thought that we could end this stupid thing and just be happy. But then, you turn around, and you take it back. You’re not allowed to take back a declaration of love, Tom. Do you know how- how crushing that was?”

“-But-”

“No, I’m talking.” The end of your nose tingles, and you reach up to brush the wetness from your cheeks. “You… You broke my heart, Tom. Because I-” You break off, and you meet his eyes. You speak directly to him. You finally bare your soul. “I love you, Tom. I fell in love with you, and so for you to turn around and take it back-” You break off, waving a hand through the air. “It broke my heart.”

“I’m sorry.” His voice is raw, and you watch as Tom rubs at his eyes. “I didn’t know, Y/N.”

“How am I supposed to believe you?” You look at the floor, vision blurry. “How am I supposed to believe that you aren’t going to turn around in two minutes and take it back again?” You rub at your arms. “Why do you get all of the power?”

Tom steps closer, but you just move away. “Y/N, please. I don’t want to hurt you. I would never, ever want to hurt you. I was confused, but I know now more than ever how I feel about you.”

“But you have hurt me, Tom,” you say, finally looking back at him. “Our entire relationship has been us hurting each other. Why should it be any different now?”

Tom clasps his hands together, his cheeks red and ruddy. “We both know it’s different now.”

“Is it?” You release a dim laugh. “Because I feel, just now, exactly as horrible as I used to feel when we’d argue, Tom. All we’ve ever done is hurt.”

“That’s the past.” Tom’s voice is picking up now, growing in strength. When he looks at you, you see his jaw flexing. “I’m sorry for the ways I’ve acted, Y/N, but I can’t change it now. All I can tell you is that you’ll be making a bad decision if you walk out of the door.”

“I have to.” It’s too much to process - too much to think about when Tom’s looking at you so desperately. This morning you’d woken up expecting an awkward visit and then a plane ride far, far away from him. This revelation upends all of that.

“No, you don’t.” Finally, you let Tom take your hands. He runs his thumbs over the back of your palms and you whimper. “Stay. Stay here with me. Fuck PR, fuck the paps. We can be together. We can love each other.” He smiles again, softly. “Let me love you. Please.”

It’s very tempting. As Tom holds your hands tightly and stares into your eyes, you want so desperately to cave. You want to throw yourself into his arms and tell him that you love him, that yes, yes, of course you’ll stay with him. But you think back to all the tears that you’ve shed, and you look at his face, and you’re reminded of the night at the BAFTAs when he’d thrust his polished trophy into your face and bragged about it. You think about all of the times he’s made moves against you and tried to trip you up. You think about your last day together, and how easily he’d retracted his statement.

How can he stand here in front of you, and ask you to forget about all of that so easily?

“I can’t.”

You step away from Tom and instead grab your big red box. You walk quickly into the hallway, your eyes full of hot tears. He follows.

“Yes, you can.”

You sit on the stairs and start lacing up your shoes, staring at Tom angrily.

“I can’t.” Your fingers shake as you tie your laces. “I have a flight. I have a life in LA that I need to get back to. This was never part of the plan, Tom. You’re my fake boyfriend. You aren’t supposed to be my real boyfriend.”

“But you love me.” Tom’s blocking your way, his biceps bulging from his black t-shirt as he stands in front of you desperately. “You told me. You said that you love me, Y/N, and I’m telling you that I love you too.”

“Love isn’t always enough, Tom.” It hurts to look at him, to think about how easily and foolishly he’s handled your heart. “Let me go.”

“Love can be enough.” It’s his final attempt; you can see it in his eyes. “Don’t let us end like this, Y/N. Please.” He takes your hand, bringing your knuckles to his lips. His mouth moves over your skin, dropping kisses to your cold skin.

You feel trapped. You know the car is waiting outside, and it’s all come on too fast, too soon.

“Tom,” you say. You pull your hand from his grasp. “Let me go.”

Tom steps aside. He finally slumps against the wall, pressing his head into his hands. “Is this what you really want?” His voice is raw, broken, and his eyes are red.

You tug your soaking jacket from the peg on the wall as you shrug haplessly. “You can’t drop these feelings on me ten minutes before I’m out the door and expect me to change my life for you.” You look at him. “It isn’t fair.”

“Fine.” Tom stands up straighter. “You should take off your hoodie, then. It’s mine. Wouldn’t be the best impression of the paparazzi to be seen wearing my clothes, would it?”

You drop your jacket to the floor and start shuffling out of the pink hoodie. It’s an oversized fit, and it comes off easily, but you chuckle bitterly. Tom’s taken everything from you - your heart, your sanity - even the very clothes from your back. What more could he possibly want to take?

“There.” You shove it into his hands and angrily pull on your coat. The sleeves are cold and damp against your skin, making you shiver. “Happy now?”

Tom looks down at the jumper. “No,” he says, voice soft. His eyes are round again, widening further as you reach for the front door. “Y/N, please.”

Your fingers linger on the doorknob, cold to touch. You hesitate. When you glance back at Tom, your resolve crumbles. As frustrated and bemused as you are, you love him. You love him, and he’s your best friend, and you’re leaving him.

“Tom,” you whimper. You step away from the door, dodging the box, and fold into his arms, crying with your face on his shoulder. Tom’s arms wrap around your back and he pulls you in tightly. “I’m sorry.” You aren’t sure what you’re apologising for - your departure, your broken heart, your tears staining his shirt. You just know you are so overcome with every emotion that it’s overflowing now, leaving your mouth in ugly sobs.

“Shh.” Tom rolls a hand over your back, patting in large circles. Your jacket crinkles at the action, and you think you can feel his chest shake. “It’s okay.”

You stay in his arms, your face buried in his neck until you stop crying. Even then, you feel clogged up and weakened. He’s so warm - his embrace strong, and comfortable. You feel protected, and when you step back, you feel your heart break again.

“I’m sorry, Tom.” You wipe at your eyes and pick up the red box. Tom’s face falls in response. “I just… I need time. I’m not- I’m not saying that we can never be together, I just… I can’t stay just now. It’s too fresh, I don’t...”

“It’s okay.” Tom steps forward. One of his hands goes to the doorknob, the other rests on your shoulder. He’s near to you - so near that you can see the flecks of pain in his eyes and the freckles on his face. His gaze flickers down to your lips. “I can wait.”

You lean in and kiss him, softly. His lips taste of salty peppermint.

“I… I’ll see you later.” You want to say it, want to tell him so desperately that you love him, but the words choke in the back of your throat.

Tom just smiles, the action not stretching to his eyes. He tilts his head towards the door. “Are you ready?”

You nod. “Yeah.”

Tom looks at the box in your hands and reaches up. He tugs up the hood of your jacket and tucks your hair into it carefully. “Safe flight, darling.”

“Thank you.”

He opens the door and steps aside, and then you’re on your own.

London Heathrow Terminal 5 is very empty. You’re sitting alone in the back corner of the waiting room, hood drawn around your face, sunglasses resting heavily over your nose. You haven’t been able to stop shaking since you left Tom’s house. Feeling numb through bag drop, security, and duty-free, it’s a miracle you’ve made it to your gate on time.

You close your eyes, and you see him. You open your eyes, and you expect to see him. He’s everywhere.

Is this what you really want..?

It plays on loop, lilted in his voice. Is this what you really want? To be sat alone, crying in Heathrow airport, when Tom is waiting back at home, finally willing to take you into his arms?

You sniff as you wipe at your eyes, furiously trying to stem the flow of tears. It had all happened so quickly; it felt almost unfair.

Your phone vibrates in your pocket, and you’re grateful for the distraction.

Tom <3: Have a safe flight. I’m sorry for being such a dick. I know you don’t want to hear it, but I love you. I love you and I’ll wait for you. I’m sorry it’s taken me so long to figure it out. I love you. Xxxxxxxxxx

You put the phone down, sucking in a deep breath. Your eyes fall to your feet. You notice, for the first time, that you’re wearing your special personalised Converse.

With shaking hands, you pull off your sunglasses and stare at your feet. The ink has run a little, obscured by the pouring London rain, but you can still make out some of the shapes Tom had drawn over them, all those weeks ago. A love heart, a flower, a couple holding hands. The lump in your throat grows bigger.

Is this what you really want..?

“Now boarding, Flight BA0269, London Heathrow to LAX. We now invite our platinum club to board.”

You sigh. You stand up and pull your backpack over your shoulders. You look back at your feet.

The love heart is wobbly and uneven, and you remember the look of concentration on Tom’s face as he’d tried his best to doodle over your shoes. The room had been so warm, back then. Just the two of you, together, finding comfort in one another’s company. It’d been simple, and you can remember looking up at him and feeling warmth for him in your heart.

Is this what you really want..?

No.

Your relationship has felt like a series of rash decisions lately, and you aren’t about to make the final, irreversible choice of leaving London. You can’t leave - not now, with the path finally clear. You can’t leave Tom, who’s finally told you how he feels. He’s messy, and complicated, and being around him makes you feel like your heart is on fire, but you love him. You love him, and maybe he’s right - maybe love is enough.

You know that you have come too far to throw it all away without giving him a chance.

You’ve never been a fan of bold, romantic gestures, but as they call your gate again, you turn off your phone and you turn around. You turn around, and you run. You run back to him.

↠ next part

#sob #tom holland x reader #tom holland x y/n #tom holland #tom holland series #crying on main time #y/n #y/n use #self insert #self-insert #tfg #ahhhhHHHHH screaming truly #what am i gonna do with my fridays when im finished with this series!!#:((( anyways #please let me know what you're thinking :)))#almost didn't include the final scene in this part but :)) i thought it deserved to make the final cut

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dailyakira · 3 years

Text

rivals to lovers! ft. kazutora, mitsuya, & chifuyu

gn! reader

a/n: THIS IS SUPER OLD.. LIKE IT’S BEEN IN THE DRAFTS FOR FIVE MONTHS. SORRY TO THE FRIEND THAT I SAID I WOULD WRITE THIS FOR

warnings: just really fluffy, competitiveness, different aus?, kazutora's scenario is more love at first sight, writing to mitski is a warning, no trauma??, chifuyu's shower scene is a whole thirst trap

kazutora

the audience applauded as kazutora concluded his complex performance. his guitar laid in his hands, and he fiddled with the acoustic guitar strings as he left the stage.

when he walked down the stairs, he was met with two familiar faces. chifuyu's hair was almost too recognizable in the crowd, after all. baji gave his signature smile and high-fived kazutora.

"great performance, kazutora."

"thanks for coming, guys."

the next person appeared on the stage, with an electric guitar. as you started playing, a rambunctious melody was played. he looked behind him, to see the player.

he was enamored with the playing, even if it was noisier than he had expected. your fingers messily moved around the strings, trying desperately to finish the song.

you were ridiculously beautiful in his eyes. every part of your features was overexaggerated, like you were in some type of shoujo manga. baji tapped on his shoulder and guided him outside of the auditorium.

he took one last glance before he was finally dragged away by chifuyu.

after the show ended, kazutora waited in the lobby awkwardly. they were going to announce the winners soon. he had worked so hard for this, so he could only hope he'd win.

the other contestants were unbothered, including you. kazutora only wished that he could react like that, so he wouldn't be surprised by failure.

the judges walked into the crowded room, and introduced themselves. the winner was about to be announced, and kazutora's hands got shaky.

but his heart stopped when your name was announced. what did he do wrong? he tried his best, but it still wasn't enough. the feeling of despair overcame him.

"and for runner-up, we have kazutora hanemiya. that concludes our awarding ceremony!"

he wished this was all a dream. failure wasn't a growing experience for him at all. he felt worthless, like he didn't even deserve to be at least a runner-up.

kazutora felt like someone was always better than him.

he felt a arm grasp at his wrist. when he glanced upwards, he bumped his head with someone else. it was you, the guitarist from earlier.

kazutora felt green with envy. you had the courage to brag in his face? he'd prove that he was better than you in every single aspect -

"are you okay? you seem upset."

his brain paused for a minute.

"huh?"

he didn't expect his enemy to feign sympathy. he thought you'd be cocky after taking his top spot. the fact made him even more bitter than before.

"i know this must mean a lot to you since you won years in a row. personally, your acoustic guitar sounded way better than my awful playing." you stated with a laugh.

kazutora's eyes widened as he processed. he had gotten many similar compliments, but something was different this time.

the cherry red tones flushed his face, and he tried to use his hands to cover his appearance. your playing was intangible, he couldn't even describe the rush it gave him.

"i heard they're holding an after-party, would you like to go with me?"

◂ ❚ ⊱ꕥ⊰ ❚ ▸

mitsuya

he busied his hands with the needlework. mitsuya heard that he had a new competitor, and he couldn’t help but be anxious.

what if they were better than him? mitsuya worked endlessly to master his craft, but it could all just go to waste.

as he distracted himself with his thoughts, he pricked his finger. mitsuya instinctively put his finger in his mouth.

his glasses slid down his face, and he removed his finger with a sigh. he shouldn’t be worrying about this, he’s a professional after all.

a knock rang throughout his studio.

“come in!” mitsuya yelled.

his secretary entered the room, heels clacking along the wooden floor.

“sir, there’s someone here to see you.”

“let them in, i suppose.”

minutes after his secretary left, a new individual entered the room. mitsuya immediately recognized them though.

“hello, mitsuya.”

he scoffed at his competitor’s audacity. how could they just waltz into his studio like it was nothing?

“shouldn’t you be preparing for your fashion show in a few hours?” you tilted your head with a smirk

“don’t worry about my concerns.” he said sharply.

mitsuya clenched his fist under his desk. he needed to win, losing wasn’t a option when it came to his competitor.

“well, i just wanted to wish you the best, because you’re definitely going to have a damaged ego after this.” you laughed with a saccharine smile.

“i’d like to see you try.” at this point, mitsuya was seething through his teeth.

you decided to take your leave, and left him in a frustrating conflict. he concluded that he should just focus on himself, and ignore them.

in a millisecond, his fashion show was already happening. he nibbled on his pen in pure anxiousness. he saw the models come and go, but he completely blanked out.

until he heard the seat next to him squeak. mitsuya shot his head towards the seat and saw you smiling at him.

"your work is impressive, mitsuya. we should do a collaboration piece."

he scoffed at you and glared at you for a few seconds. he averted his eyes and started to pay attention to everything coming out.

you sighed in disappointment. you had looked up to mitsuya for years, and he absolutely hated you. his patterns were just so intricate, he was an inspiration.

"i'm sorry."

he expressed a confused face as he glanced back at you.

" i didn't want to take your position in the first place. i just desired to compete with you and possibly work together. i never intended for you to hate me."

after a bit of thinking, mitsuya stuck out his right hand towards you. with a cautious look in your eyes, you shook his hand.

"since we got off to a bad start, i'll introduce myself again."

"nice to meet you, my name is mitsuya takashi. i work as a fashion designer. "

a genuine smile appeared on his face as he spoke. he seemed to forgive easily, and you couldn't tear away your attention from his godly appearance.

after you introduced yourself and your occupation, you couldn't help but feel overjoyed. you removed your hand from him, and he repeated the motion.

"so, you were mentioning something about a collaboration?"

◂ ❚ ⊱ꕥ⊰ ❚ ▸

chifuyu

he removed the baking gloves from his worn hands. he was trying his hardest to perfect this dish, but everything was crumbling to pieces. chifuyu had to start over since his cake tasted off.

he took a fresh stick of butter and a few cups of sugar, then put them in the electric mixer. as the mixer was going at a fast pace, he started to add his eggs.

chifuyu lowered the speed of the mixer and added the melted chocolate to his honey-appearing concoction. it slowly added color and became a caramel-colored batter.

as he was getting started on his dry ingredients, his luck ran out. his granulated flour pounced on him, leaving him an absolute mess with no flour to use.

chifuyu shook his head, causing all of the flour to fall out of his ink hair. he sighed and picked up a towel to clean himself up. he decided to go to the store once he took a shower.

the sweltering water hit his skin, and he groaned out of pleasure. the blazing liquid went through his ragged hair. chifuyu ran his fingers through his hair while relaxing his back.

a hot shower was exactly what he needed after his eventful day. as he recalled back to earlier today, chifuyu used his usual shampoo and conditioner, which had the faint scent of roses.

he used his similar scented body wash soon after. chifuyu lathered over his biceps to his muscular chest. the soap dripped down his upper body through the middle of his chest. the soap proceeded to dribble into the discarded water as he shut his eyes in pure exhaustion.

he leaned his back onto the shower door and put the back of his hand on his forehead, whining in pleasure. the steam phased through chifuyu, clouding up the glass shower.

later on, as he exfoliated the dead skin from his legs, he felt at peace. maybe he'd be able to do his full skincare routine, and then possibly go to bed on time.

chifuyu left the bathroom with a cotton towel around his waist, while water droplets from his hair trailed all the way back to his room. he chose to put on a simple white shirt with sweatpants for his outfit.

chifuyu was finally ready, and he could continue his baking soon.

after five minutes of driving, he finally arrived at the supermarket. the bright neon lights of the store name blinded him. he grabbed a cart and set off to find his flour.

chifuyu kept picking up unnecessary things while trying to find the flour. he always tended to get distracted, but he needed a good amount of time to bake.

he walked aimlessly, not paying much attention to what was in front of him. suddenly, he felt something hit his chest before he fell down on the marble floor of the supermarket.

he rubbed his face out of frustration before opening his eyes, ready to yell at the person who threw something at him. his gaze averted upwards as his pupils became wider.

god, anyone but you.

chifuyu hated everything about you, like how good you were at baking, how your hair matched your face, and especially how beautiful your eyes looked.

it was obnoxious to say the least. he felt like he could never measure up to you because he was a hard worker, and you... you were just talented.

“hey chifuyu! did you perfect the cake yet? the competition is tomorrow and we’ll be on the spot!”

the excitement on your face really ticked him off. maybe it was his massive inferiority complex, but he absolutely despised you.

you checked the time on your phone before widening your eyes in shock.

“i’m late for my appointment, but i wanted you to have this.”

you handed him a written recipe. the paper had wrinkled because of its time in your pocket.

it was the cake recipe that he had been trying to attempt, except it was revised. it felt like everything he had been missing.

when he looked up, you had already left. he held the yellow paper up to his chest and felt his heart beat rapidly. a bright red blush splotched onto his face while he had a internal battle with himself.

he still hated you, right?

#tokyo revengers #tokrev #does this make any fucking sense #tokyo revengers x reader #tokyorev x reader #slight angst #rivals #enemies to lovers #rivals to lovers #chifuyu matsuno #chifuyu x you #kazutora hanemiya #kazutora x reader #mitsuya x you #takashi mitsuya #please #i havent written in a while #please dont flop #please dont judge me

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faulty-writes · 3 years

Text

Alright, since all you lovely followers of mine seem to enjoy Rumi. I came up with this little idea. I hope you enjoy it.

The 5 Times Rumi Let You Touch Her Tail

You will always remember the first time you touched Mirko's tail, you had originally just wanted her autograph. "Yeah yeah! Speak up there, kid! I don't got all day!" she replied as she stomped over to you, making you feel even smaller than you were. You somehow managed to stutter out what you wanted, but you didn't seem to be up to Mirko's standards.

"Ya gotta be more confident than that," she said with a snicker before reaching over to grasp your chin. Your heart sped up from both her touch and that smirk that played across her face. "But you have such a pretty face, I guess I can do you a damn favor," the chuckle that followed her words wasn't exactly comforting.

"What's your name!?" she demanded, causing you to flinch back. Yet again you managed to stutter out an answer, "I like 'pretty face' more, so that's what I'm gonna call ya from now on!" she snapped your autograph book closed before handing it back to you.

When she turned to walk away, you noticed that fluffy white tail of hers and desperately called out to her. Of course, you felt a little shy to ask her but somehow you managed and to your surprise, Mirko looked shocked or lost as to where the question of touching her tail came from.

"Well, pretty face got confidence that fast huh? I like that!" you cried out when she playfully punched your shoulder. But that was nothing compared to when she grabbed your shirt collar and pulled you close to her. "Do it then," she said, "show me what ya can do when you set out to do it pretty face," you wondered how long that nickname would last.

You hesitantly reached around the curve of her hip until you felt that soft fur brush against your fingertips. Your lips parted in awe as you slowly allowed your fingers to thread through her tail. It was soft and so very fluffy. Mirko seemed to enjoy the small bit of attention, however, it didn't last as long as you would have hoped.

"Getting a little too close to unleashing the real beast in me, pretty face," Mirko said, her tail twitching like mad due to your touch. "I'll see ya later, or maybe never," you frowned as you watched her jump from the pavement and into the air.

You knew this world was dangerous, but you had never imagined getting caught in the middle of a villain attack. It seemed like it happened all at once. Perhaps you were in the wrong place at the wrong time, but all you could remember is the explosions and bloodshed.

Luckily, much like they were trained to do. Several heroes came onto the scene and you got a front-row seat to see how they handled the villain. Threats being thrown back and forth before more blood spilled. You happened to be cradled up next to the fellow individuals who had the displeasure of being a part of this terrifying experience.

Then, she arrived. "Having fun without me!? Jeez, what the hell!?" her voice was unmistakable and you heard several gasps and cheers as Mirko flew through the air. Her silver hair flowing behind her and that same smirk you saw before was painted across her face. "I'll kick your ass, you hear me!?" it was strange how one person could give you so much hope.

Despite being covered in soot and minor injuries, you got lost in the moment watching Mirko dish out some punishment. Cracking the pavement with her powerful leg strength and confusing the villain with her speed. Watching them fall bit by bit until they were finally defeated and Mirko was left panting, sweating, and victorious.

"Hell yeah! Think you can actually mess with this rabbit hero?!" she seemed rather happy as the villain was dragged away and the search and comfort of the civilians began. Mirko seemed to spot you right away and offered you her hand, "Ya don't look too damn injured. Shake off your fear!" she instructed as she pulled you to your feet.

But even so, you couldn't help but continue to tremble which caused Mirko to grow confused. She wasn't the best person to provide comfort, "Hey aren't you the kid that wanted my autograph before!? Yeah...yeah pretty face, right!?" she questioned with a confident grin.

"I know what to do," she slowly turned and presented her tail. "Ya liked petting it, right?" she questioned. "Go on then, touch it," she said, almost like you were annoying her. But nonetheless, you did as she instructed and reached over to run your fingers through that soft fur once more.

Normally if someone desired to be a hero, they would enroll into one of the many hero schools Japan offered, but due to selective pickings and strict classroom sizes, this wasn't always possible which meant many of those that wanted to be heroes never got the chance. But due to increased villain activity, your opportunity came.

That is Japan offered the chance for young adults to participate in an advanced hero course which would then permit them to be able to use a temporary hero license under the authority of a trusted pro hero.

"Pff," Mirko couldn't help but snort before her laughter broke through. It wasn't something you appreciated, but in a way, it was nice to see her smile. "Didja finally grow a spine there, pretty face!?" she questioned before slapping you on the back, sporting her famous smirk.

You were originally hesitant to tell her, mostly due to the fact that you were afraid she'd do exactly what she did. Laugh at you, but she didn't seem completely against the idea. But, she let you know her opinion nonetheless. "Guess ya aren't the wimpy wannabe I thought ya were! Don't expect any recommendation from me, but I give ya permission to kick some ass!"

While you were happy with her attempted vote of confidence, you found yourself being nervous yet again to ask Mirko the question that had been plaguing your mind. But she seemed to catch onto the fact that you wanted something. "Speak up!" she snapped. "Your pretty face doesn't look so pretty when you're confused," she said as she crossed her arms over her chest.

You were actually embarrassed to ask, but yet again you found yourself stuttering the question out. That is if you could pet her tail for good luck. Mirko seemed confused, "Ya got a tail petting fetish or something pretty face?!" she rolled her eyes before turning around, her tail wiggling from side to side.

"Just make it quick!" she said, though she was still wearing a smirk and you suspected it was due to the fact she somehow knew you were nervous. But nonetheless, you reached out and allowed your fingers to run through that soft fur for the third time. Who knows? Maybe it would bring you some well-deserved luck.

Pro hero life was more than you thought it would be, it was part exciting and part terrifying. Between the praise and hatred, it was the best and worst of both worlds. Though you weren't high on the charts by any means, you were catching the attention of the existing pro heroes which included Mirko.

It started off as a simple invitation, "Hey there pretty face good job out there!" Mirko said as she yet again slapped you on the back. "I didn't think ya had the spine to back you up but turns out I was wrong," her words made you feel a little better, but you had never expected her to ask you what she did next.

Drinking wasn't normally something you did, and this would probably be the last time you experienced it. But you couldn't honestly turn down an invitation to drink with one of the top female heroes. So you accepted, but you should have known the consequences of going out in public with Mirko.

"Another round, damn it!" Mirko screamed as she slammed the shot glass back onto the counter, it was safe to say you were beyond tipsy at this point as you could only laugh at the rabbit hero's antics. You lazily draped your arm around her shoulders and repeated the order. By the end of the night, you were too intoxicated to remember the series of events that led to Mirko bringing you home.

But when you woke in the morning, it wasn't that hard to figure out what had happened. Your head was pulsing, painfully aching as a cruel reminder of your irresponsible actions. But what shocked you more was the fact you had woken up next to Mirko who still happened to be sleeping away peacefully.

How could you help yourself? You'd never try to purposely take advantage of anyone. But seeing the rabbit hero sprawled out on the bed, covered by nothing but a thin sheet was a sight most could only hope to see. However, you were more focused on that tail that peeked out from under the sheet. You just hoped you wouldn't wake her as you reached over to once again pet that tail.

The news was a shock to the hero world, the previously known solo hero was engaged. Most thought it wouldn't happen, in fact, heroes almost never got the chance at their own happy ending due to their dedication to saving others. But, Mirko seemed to want to prove the world wrong.

You hadn't expected it, but throughout your hero career, Mirko and yourself had your special moments. Despite her own rule of avoiding love and not getting into any messy relationships. But somehow you were the exception, hell maybe you put a spell on her the first time you met, or maybe you were just special.

Either way, she found that she was growing overly attached to you. Making hasty decisions and she hated it. There had to be a way to solve this, to figure out how to rid herself of the constant worry she felt when you were away from her, and maybe most wouldn't think the solution would come in the form of a marriage proposal.

"Well!?" she snapped as she grabbed your hand, ready with the ring. Casting a glare your way, but you were a little too shocked to answer her. Though the ring was beautiful, painted a gold-white color with one jewel that was the same color as Mirko's eyes. Somehow, you stuttered out a reply and Mirko grinned as she pushed the ring onto your finger.

Despite the wedding feeling rushed, Mirko took care of most of the weight. Which included the invitations, wedding location, catering, and so on. She even insisted on paying for your wedding attire, though you were somewhat against the idea. It was hard to argue with your new fiancee.

Though Mirko looked beautiful on the day of your wedding, she neglected the traditional belief that seeing the bride before the wedding could bring bad luck. "Quit your damn worrying!" she snapped as she stood there in her wedding dress. The white fabric showing off her every curve.

But the best feature of her dress was the small cut out that allowed her tail to peek through, "Are ya ready to get this show on the road yet!? People are waitin'!" she exclaimed and you couldn't help but chuckle as you stepped close to her and placed your hand on the small of her back. Your fingers slowly reaching down to play with her tail yet again before you nodded.

#rumi x reader #mirko x reader

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immaturityofthomasastruc · 3 years

Note

I feel like a redemption arc for Chloé wouldn't have worked since she (1) never expressed any remorse for bullying and harassing people and abusing her father's political power as mayor to do so and have her way. In "Malediktator", Chloé says she feels useless and is upset that everyone hates her... but her feeling useless was NEVER something that was part of the show before and she never acknowledges that everyone hates her because she's been bullying them for years. Like, that's THE reason why no one likes her, but it was never brought up, and (2) she never faces consequences for her actions. Sometimes things don't go her way, but that's not the same thing as facing direct punishment for bullying and harassment and abuse of political power and also for deliberately sabotaging a subway and risking lives to stage a rescue, especially since she continued to be snotty and didn't even care when Ladybug told her why she couldn't have the Bee anymore and still acted entitled to it, even when Hawk Moth had Mayura stake out by her home. If those two things had happened, a redemption for Chloé would have actually been satisfying.

You make a fair point there. While I still wanted a redemption arc for Chloe, it doesn’t mean I thought her betrayal was completely unexpected.

Yeah, she was making small progress in some regards, but like you said, never felt remorseful or got punished for the things she did. Sure, she got some slight comeuppance in some Season 1 episodes and did apologize for some things, but some of the bigger acts of sabotage she took part in during her “arc” starting from Season 2 never really got the backlash they deserved.

When Chloe caused a fake fire alarm to go off in “Despair Bear”, Adrien did threaten to end their friendship by simply telling her to be nice and never helping her, but as soon as he let her off the hook by the end of the episode, she went back to being mean and Adrien simply laughed it off, showing he really didn’t care about their “friendship” that much.

When Chloe sabotaged Marinette’s gift to Ms. Bustier in “Zombizou”, Ms. Bustier decided to treat it like it was a gift to from the two of them while never punishing Chloe for ruining the gift in the first place and literally expecting Marinette to set a good example for Chloe instead. Fun fact: I’m currently studying to be a teacher, and I was told to never show favoritism toward my students or place any of them on a pedestal in an entry-level course.

When Chloe essentially tried to Syndrome a train in “Queen Wasp”, Ladybug got more blame for losing the Bee Miraculous in the first place (it was knocked out of her hands and she didn’t have time to look for it), and compared the potential vehicular manslaughter to Ladybug’s mistake before portraying Chloe making up with her emotionally abusive mother as a good thing. And I’m sure that won’t give viewers the wrong idea at all.

When Chloe had to be told Queen Bee was being benched in “Miraculer”, it wasn’t because of how awful she is in her civilian life, but rather, because her identity is public knowledge. Yeah, that’s still a good reason as “Heroes Day” and the very same episode prove with Hawkmoth targeting her loved ones, but the episode frames it like that’s the only reason. And of course, because nobody ever decided to simply tell Chloe it would be highly unlikely she would be Queen Bee again, she continued to delude herself by demanding to get the Bee Miraculous back to the point where it was a running gag until the Season 3 finale was like “actually, you were supposed to take these scenes seriously and you’re a terrible person for thinking otherwise”.

“Queen Wasp” in particular was a deal-breaker for some fans who wanted a Chloe redemption arc, but a lot of other fans, myself included, were hoping that they would all lead to a big payoff where she realized the error of her ways, and vowed to change. Instead, we got smeckledorfed by the writers and insulted by Astruc for daring to have hope she would change for almost a year and a half. The fact that sabotaging a movie production in “Queen Banana” was the cardinal sin that convinced Chloe’s father and Adrien to put their feet down and not any of the earlier examples shows how confusing the writing is when it comes to portraying reactions to Chloe’s actions.

The problem with all of these episodes was that nobody ever sat down and simply confronted Chloe with the fact that as much as she thinks she’s an amazing person, she takes pleasure in hurting others by abusing her power. All they do is either tell her to be nicer and say she can be nicer without doing much. The most we got was the butler in “Despair Bear” who came across more like she was mocking Chloe instead of actually helping her to improve.

Yes, a positive influence can help a character turn over a new leaf, but they need to work with said character and help them grow and not just tell them to do better. Enabling them will only make things worse. I know everyone on the planet loves this character and the role he played in the story, but Iroh was pivotal to Zuko’s character development not just because he helped to encourage him to break away from his father’s influence, but because he wasn’t afraid to call Zuko out on some of his actions, especially at the end of Book 2. He was a mentor who understood how troubled Zuko was, and wanted to do everything he can to help his nephew, despite the trouble he would go through in his journey to self-improvement. Even when separated in Book 3, you can still see Iroh’s imparted wisdom in Zuko with how he interacts with the other characters after he joins the team, with Zuko himself regretting how he sold Iroh out to the Fire Nation.

I’m not trying to say that Chloe herself isn’t to blame for how things turned out either. Her actions at the end of Season 3 felt appropriate, as frustrating as they were in the long run, because her ego went unchecked. I’m not just frustrated that so much time was wasted, but because the biggest reason Chloe turned out this way was a failure to communicate with her and anyone who actually bothered to help her.

Of course, Astruc made it clear that any attempts to actually bother helping Chloe were pointless a year ago and keeps doing so to this day.

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ceterisparibus116 · 3 years

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Hello, I love your fics and I saw the analysis you reposted for Hawkeye and I just wanted to ask you what you thought about Hawkeye's ending? (Spoilers) I thought that Kate turning on her mom at the end did not fit with the rest of the show. I mean she forgives and sticks with Hawkeye for murdering dozens of people even though he shows almost no remorse for doing so (He didn't even apologize to Echo for killing her *dad*) but she doesn't try to listen to her mom's reasoning for her actions?

Hi, thank you for your kind words and for the ask!

Disclaimer: I've only seen the show once all the way through, so I might be missing things. But here are my thoughts.

First off, yeahhh. The juxtaposition between Kate’s scene with her mom and Yelena’s scene with Clint struck me as off. The first was bitter and angry; the second was merciful and tender. Actually, I was kinda thrown by the entire finale. I guess it was very character-driven, in that it cemented Clint and Kate’s partnership and gave both Yelena and Maya closure, and I support that.

But for me, personally, I’ve come to appreciate a more thematic approach to writing. I’m concerned with themes and messages. Otherwise the most character-driven plot in the world can still potentially feel disjointed. And that was how the finale felt to me. It kinda seemed like the writers were running through a checklist of loose ends, including bad guys to deal with. If all these moments were meant to tie into something bigger, I don’t know what that was. If the show had maintained a clear message, maybe I’d be better able to figure out what we were meant to think of Kate’s reaction to her mom. Were we supposed to agree? Disagree? Sympathize? I don’t know.

And part of that is because I don’t know what we’re supposed to think of Clint’s vigilantism as Ronin. I t think the show intends us to consider it a horrible, shameful thing. That’s how Yelena describes it. That’s also how Clint himself seems to think about it. (You say he showed almost no remorse, but I thought he seemed deeply ashamed of what he did. I can’t think of a single time when he defended his actions as Ronin; instead, he seemed to feel uncomfortable even talking about it, and seemed to take his actions as Ronin as proof that he wasn’t deserving of Nat’s sacrifice for him or Kate’s belief in him.) But I don’t understand why. Why, exactly, was his vigilantism so bad?

To be clear, I don’t condone murder in any context. But we’re talking about the Avengers. They kill faceless, nameless “bad guys” all the time, and they’re considered heroes. Now Hawkeye does it as Ronin, and it’s a bad thing? Within the world of the Avengers, and according to the rules of that fictional world, I don’t understand why killing bad guys is bad. Especially when you live in the post-Blip world where rule of law is basically non-existent. Who else is going to stop the bad guys?

Now, the show could’ve explored whether the bad guys are actually bad. But it didn’t really do that? The closest we get is Maya and her dad, for whom we feel sympathy. But they’re still doing bad things. At least, I think? I don’t know, what exactly are the Tracksuit Mafia doing that’s so criminal? I assume they’re hurting people, but I don’t actually know. So yeah, maybe all the people Clint killed, he killed for no good reason because they weren’t doing anything wrong? But why didn’t the show tell us this and explore it properly?

I mean, even Yelena’s opinion of Clint is tainted by her incorrect belief that Clint killed Nat. Once she realizes he didn’t, she seems to stop caring about all her dire warnings to Kate about all the other people he killed. Was it really only Nat’s death that mattered to Yelena, not all the other deaths at Clint’s hands?

Honestly, I think the show did a better job fleshing out the deal with Ronin by contrasting Clint and Maya. As the show points out, both of them were made to be weapons, and the point is whether/how they should decide whom to target, or if they should have targets at all. But again, the show doesn’t actually explore what it looks like to make those calls, to decide when to take action and against whom, nor does it consider the potential consequences of choosing not to take action. Well, except referencing Clint’s decision not to take out Natasha. But we’re never told why he does that, and although he seemed to make a similar decision with Maya, we don’t know why. Can he, like, sense people’s goodness or something? Is that his real superpower? I DON’T UNDERSTAND.

Oh, and going back to Eleanor: does Kate not understand that she was forced into working with Kingpin? Like you said, she didn’t even try to listen to Eleanor's explanations. But the fact is, Eleanor didn’t know about her husband’s debts until it was too late, and then it wasn’t like she could back out without Fisk doing exactly what he did in this finale: targeting her and her daughter. Did none of that matter to Kate? In terms of Kate’s character, that strikes me as off. She’s immature, but I didn’t think she was so immature as to not realize the peril of her mom's situation. And she’s hardly been shown to be compassionless, so I don’t know why she didn’t show her mom more compassion. Unless she just was emotionally too distraught over the apparent betrayal? In which case the show should’ve presented her lack of forgiveness as a bad thing, the result of a flaw of Kate’s. But it didn’t do that. At least, not in my opinion.

I don’t know. Part of me thinks maybe the show was about not putting people on pedestals, or not making overly simplistic assumptions. That seems to be a common thread (Kate thinks Clint can do no wrong; Yelena thinks Clint is evil – and both of them are wrong; Kate thinks Jack is evil but he’s not; Kate thinks her mom is fine but she’s not; Maya thinks Fisk is a good guy but he’s not) and common threads are a good sign that the show is intentionally saying something…but I can’t tell if these twists, so to speak, are intentional thematic choices vs just plot devices. At least that would tie everything together if they were thematic choices.

But that doesn’t explain why Kate would give Clint more forgiveness than her mom unless we assume Clint’s behavior wasn’t as bad as Eleanor's—and you could make that argument, but that requires looking at how bad the people Clint killed actually were, and why he killed them, and whether motives matter vs just the outcome, and what Eleanor's other options were, and what the actual consequences of Eleanor's actions were, and whether Eleanor's lack of options matter vs just the consequences, and…and the show didn’t do any of that.

(Oh, and even though the analysis I reblogged had a beautiful discussion of grace...I don’t actually think that was the show’s message, either. Otherwise the show would’ve shown more clearly what Clint and Eleanor both did that was so wrong, and showed how difficult grace can be to give. And how would the theme of grace fit with Maya’s character arc and plot? Are we supposed to see her arc as negative because she didn’t show the the Tracksuits or Kingpin grace? I doubt it. So I don’t think grace was the message. But I just like talking about grace.)

So yeah, thematically, I have no idea why Kate showed Clint mercy but not her mom. I don’t know what I personally make of it, let alone what the writers hoped I would make of it. Hawkeye was a really fun show and I loved the characters, but I frankly don’t understand how it was all supposed to fit together. Maybe it’ll make more sense on a re-watch?

What does everyone else think?

#hawkeye series #hawkeye series spoilers #kate bishop #eleanor bishop #yelena belova #maya lopez #meta #asks #ask me things i'm friendly

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rainbow-filmnerd · 3 years

Text

How I would rewrite Miraculous.

So, a few years ago, I used to watch this neat little show that's been on a number of networks. You may have heard of it, but it's called "Miraculous Ladybug". Yeah, it's a cartoon that I thought was good... for about two seasons. Then as I watched Season 3, things didn't seem to sit right with me... But in short, I feel like the show is NOTORIOUS for being how all over the place it is. A total mess, and I'm so flipping glad I don't watch it anymore.

Although, my curiosity does peak from time to time, just to see what other disaster may have made this show flop. I shared some of this with @fabuloustrash05, but this is how I would rewrite the ENTIRE SERIES. And friendly reminder, I have not seen an entire episode of Season 4 or either Miraculous World special, so for the most part, anything that happened in past the first couple eps of Season 3 WON'T be mentioned here.

We all know that a movie is coming out soon, but it seems like it's the origin story that we got to see during Season 1. Now I don't know what would happen, but I feel like the origin story should be kept the same. Only thing is that I would make it the SERIES PREMIERE rather than the SEASON 1 FINALE. That will be saved for "Volpina" with an after credits scene that will reveal/confirm to the audience that Gabriel is Hawk Moth, which I felt was obvious after an episode or two in. For the most part, Season 1 will remain untouched by my hand.

Season 2 would be left alone too. There were some pretty decent things happening, like some progress on our leads' relationship, and not to mention, CHLOE'S REDEMPTION ARC THAT WAS RIPPED OUT OF HER HANDS. But more on the latter in a bit.

The only things I'd leave alone for Season 3 are the following:

The episodes "Chameleon", "Weredad", "Feast", "Backwarder", "Silencer", and "Miraculer"

Lila's character arc of trying to sabotage Marinette and her working with Gabriel/Hawk Moth (including trying to get her expelled like in "Ladybug")

Natalie's illness from the Peacock Miraculous

The Miraculous Swap between Adrien and Marinette

Chloe finding out that Marinette likes Adrien but not telling anyone about it

Sabine and Marinette ALMOST getting akumatized

Alec Cataldi, Master Fu and Bob Roth getting akumatized (I know that I said whatever happens in s4 is non-existent but the premise of those three getting akumatized is actually good)

Kagami and Marinette becoming friends (socially awkward characters trying to befriend extroverts are the best okay?!)

More background history on Master Fu

The revelation that the "future Hawk Moth" will not be Gabriel

And now onto the changes for Season 3:

Legitimate development between Marinette and Adrien's relationship, which would be on the verge of a blossoming romance

The well-deserved redemption arc of Chloe. While still maintaining a "Queen Bee" personality, she would be one of those "rich girls with a secret heart of gold" (think Cleo de Nile from the OG Monster High series)

Some growing tension/strain between Gabriel and Adrien

Actual development for characters that appeared in only one episode when they were akumatized (Marc, Ondine, Marianne, etc.)

Anything that made the characters themselves look terrible (like Marinette's sudden mean/stalker-like behavior) will be completely discarded

Adrien interacting with the Guardian/Master Fu and learning more of the Miraculous like with Marinette

Lila being RIGHTFULLY punished for all the lies she stirred throughout the three seasons

Costume upgrades (especially for Marinette)

The season finale itself (just below)

The s3 finale was one of the biggest disappointments in animation ever. So, to make up for it, here's my vision of what would happen INSTEAD (on top of what I'd keep/change). I also haven't decided if this would be when Marinette and Adrien find out of the other's superhero identity here, but I want that to be the case by the end of the series (without any disastrous consequences).

It would be similar to the big fight during s2, but with more Mayura and Lila. The five Heroes (Ladybug, Cat Noir, Rena Rouge, Carapace, and Queen Bee) all in action to save Paris and defeat Hawk Moth once and for all. They are successful in doing so. The cause? Gabriel's own weakness of seeing Adrien in any danger in his pursue to get the Miraculous needed (like in "Style Queen"). He would also come to learn that he too fell victim to Lila's lies after he considered what Marinette has done for Adrien. After the defeat and reveal, the Butterfly Miraculous would disappear (in an after credits scene, Lila would find the Miraculous and become the next "Hawk Moth"). On top of what caused his defeat, Natalie would become very ill from the Peacock Miraculous, and with that, we would finally find out what happened to Adrien's Mom and the wish Gabriel wants to make (to revive his wife).

Lastly, we would have Season 4 (which may or may not be the last season, but I don't want the series to drag on like it's doing now). For the most part, the season would focus on trying to track down the Butterfly Miraculous/the actual threat of Lila, a Gabriel redemption arc (trying to make amends with Adrien, heal Natalie, fix the Peacock Miraculous, and revive Emilie), Marinette and Adrien finally admitting to their feelings and becoming a couple by the end of the series (or sooner).

I don't usually make long posts like this, but I wanted to get this out there as my personal vision from a former fan of this series. You probably won't see any more ML posts on my blog unless it's real good salt.

#kimmy's rambles #miraculous ladybug #i have that last tag muted because that's how much i get frustrated with the series nowadays #i'm not in the fandom anymore but this is just what i think would've happened #long post

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suncaptor · 3 years

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So we're having a s7/s8 breakdown on this fine Saturday? Good. May I interest you in theese thoughts (this whole ask might include some wild speculation, I hope you're up for it, if no, please ignore and I will crawl back to my basement, also this got SO LONG I AM ALMOST ASHAMED, but I need to exchange thoughts with someone agsfsdghf):

Amelia was the original blurry wife for Sam. I remember at the time s8 was airing the fandom wasn't really fond of her because she wasn't very special as a character, she felt kind of boring (obviously the wincest/bibro side hated her for different reasons lol) and unfortunately she was very forgettable. She was literally Just Some Woman, a blank canvas. (idk if you agree but this is what I think). But. I think she was set up to be Sam's endgame if season 8 was the last one. He gets what he wanted - out of the hunter's life, white picket fence, a wife and a dog. And it was confirmed somewhere that she was written off due to the hate she received (spn fandom being spn fadom I am leaving this without comment). So that is why I believe she was gonna be the Blurry Wife of season 8, but she was written off....

....."But hey!", you might say, "Sam was the one doing the trials in season 8! So how can she be his endgame if he was going to lock up Hell and die?". I have an answer! Sam doesn't start the trials until 8x14, four episodes after he broke up with Amelia and chose Dean in 8x10. Up until then it was agreed that Dean was going to be the one to do the trials, it was changed last minute in the show (when Sam ends up killing the hellhound in 8x14) and part of me wonders how much it might reflect the last minute change in real life. counterpoint: spn got a renewal on February 11th 2013 and 8x14 was shot November 30th - December 11th 2012 so renewal is not the case, maybe just a general change of direction for the season? idk, BUT......

.... but maybe? now I am thinking. So they make Sam break up with Amelia to get rid of her and so he can do the trials. and he is going to die. so basically once again Sam is going to die in the finale as a sacrifice (like in Swan Song) (oh I just remembered 8x23 was titled Sacrifice. NICE). And now back to Dean and everything romantic that happened that I mentioned in those tags. Let's say they keep the 'I love you' in 8x17 (I am still writing all of this under the assumption that season 8 was going to be the last one). And Cas disappears. And now guess what. He is not in 8x18. He is not in 8x19 but you know who is? NAOMI with this epic line: "And yet you haven't warded this place against us. I know. You're hoping Castiel will return to you. I admire your loyalty. I only wish he felt the same way. I know you don't want to believe it, Dean, but we're on the same side – shutting the Gates of Hell, bringing Castiel in from the cold. Take a moment. Think about what I've said." literally WHAAAAT, what were we supposed to think at this point?!?!? IF THE 'I LOVE YOU' was kept in 8x17?! can you imagine?! (also sidenote: 8x19 is a buckleming episode where they kill off Benny. epic highs and lows, etc.)

So they aren't reunited until 8x22 (i mean last seconds of 8x21 but it doesn't really matter). And Dean is angry, and hurt and we have this piece of dialogue:

CASTIEL: Dean, I can go with you. A FEW SECONDS PASS BEFORE SPEAKING AGAIN Dean. I'm sorry. DEAN: For what? CASTIEL: For everything. DEAN" Everything? Like, uh... Like ignoring us? CASTIEL: Yes. DEAN: Or like bolting off with the Angel Tablet, then losing it 'cause you didn't trust me? You didn't trust me. CASTIEL: Yes. DEAN: Yeah. Nah, that's not gonna cut it. Not this time. So you can take your little apology and you cram it up your ass. CASTIEL: Dean, I thought I was doing the right thing. DEAN: Yeah, you always do.

still with me? ok. so then Cas is sad and wants to apologize and goes out to buy Dean beer and pie but Metatron finds him and they go on their little quest together. blah blah blah, Sam and Dean catch Crowley, they are in the church, Sam in beginning the ritual on Crowley when wild Cas appears and asks Dean for help because... he needs a Cupid's Bow for Metatron to lock up Heaven. and he asks for Dean's help. I mean at this moment I think everyone would have gotten the HINT. Dean leaves Sam with Crowley to do the trial by himself (he chooses to go with Cas this is important because the last time he saw Cas he was angry at him).

And then we have that infamous bar scene where Dean might still be hurt but now he is afraid of losing Cas AGAIN due to Heaven about to be locked up and he is like "ummm are you sure? you're -- you're boarding up Heaven, and you're locking the door behind you. you did a lot of damage up there, aren't you afraid the angels might kill you?" and Cas is like stone cold "yeah they might and I am sure about doing this" :( and then they witness as two dudes fall in love in the bar. hint hint again.

quick cut to Crowley who says: "Don't we all -- you, me -- we deserve to be loved. I deserve to be loved! I just want to be loved". hint hint Love is a whole theme of this episode

AND THEN Castiel's grace ends up being the last ingredient to cast out all angels from Heaven after a nephilim and cupid's bow. And it's brushed off with a no-homo line by Metatron: "I want you to live this new life to the fullest. Find a wife. Make babies." SURE. oh to get my hands on the original first drafts of those episodes... a girl can dream.

in conclusion I wonder what the ending would be here. Dean and Cas eventually reunite and finally talk it out? one can argue: "but why Cas didn't confess back when they were having their moment in the bar? :/" well, because, as he tells us himself, (actually he says it to Kevin prior to he bar scene, but it's easy to understand that he is also talking about himself here): "There is no out. Only duty. You are a Prophet of the Lord, always and forever... ...until the day you cease to exist, and then another Prophet takes your place. Now, are you clear as to the task before you? Then do it, and let's go." (now don't think about this line and Dean's quiet: "Are you sure? Aren't you afraid?" in the bar and Castiel's "Yeah I'm sure")

so then they finally reunite, both human and they find each other and Cas is like "My grace was the special last spell ingredient because ..................." and they would address the Crypt Scene confession finally, I guess. They arrive at the Church and Sam is dead (according to what we know now (if a soul was in hell it will always end up in hell thing) maybe he went to hell. maybe it's locked up but he is the one in charge Rowena-style?). So of course Dean is a wreck but he has Cas by his side. Holding hands as they bury Sam. I don't know but I want to know SO BADLY what they had originally planned here. I would literally willingly sell my kidney to read Carver's mind.

I AM DEEPLY SORRY FOR THIS ASK I HAD TO GET THIS OUT OF MY HEAD ILY <3333333333333

okay I have NO CLUE what they meant to do or the validity of the assumptions, but this is SO interesting and I agree with all your analysis of canon, except I also don't think that Cas like. understood at all or ever thought Dean's "I love you" meant what Dean did at this point xnkslfkdkdkskd so I see your draw to him specifying duty given his probable suicide rather than stay with Dean like he wants.

I also do wonder what they were doing with Sam in s8 it's very disjointed and out of character, so your guesses are VERY interesting. Amelia like made no sense Sam made no sense or the way Sam treated Benny (which I think was set up for Sam decided to choose hunting with Dean over her and Dean about Benny, so I don't know if she was meant to be endgame ever? but I have nooo clue what they could have meant for because the plot is all over the place in s8). anyways INTERESTING. I love all your thoughts thanks for sending this ask 💞💞

#and like to be clear I do view canon destiel VERY similarly to you. you get it.#incest mention #spn #supernatural #destiel #sam Winchester #samelia #s8 #sammy #dean winchester #castiel #cas #amelia richardson #amelia #incoherents #ask

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the-writers-bookshelf · 3 years

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Hoi! Happy Fab Friday!

I'm proud to announce I haven't written any scenes or passages at all the last two weeks (and that isn't sarcasm). I've been working on all the character arcs I'm planning to include in my five-part story.

Because there's a lot, and I'm kind of ignoring the thought that maybe given every character an arc for the whole story and the parts they appear in. To give you the math, six out of the eight characters appear in all five parts. That means they each get an arc for that part, and one that spans the story (so, 6 per person, times five, makes 30). The other two appear in four parts (so that makes 10). That comes down to 40 character arcs... Sounds like a lot of work, but I already have the plot and main arcs down, so the five smaller ones kind of write themselves.

I wanted to share a short summary of each arc:

Brenda

Brenda starts out filled with guilt over Newt's death. She couldn't get to him in time to save him from the same disease she got to be cured of. Because of this, she doesn't trust herself with the lives of others. She overcomes this eventually after Teresa explains to her in detail why there was nothing she could have done, and gains back her confidence when he later helps save Newt's life (oh right, he didn't die, they just thought so. Long story. Like, at least a 270K+ fic...).

Chuck

Chuck is twelve, and by far the youngest of the group (the rest are 16+). He lost every single caregiver he can remember having. Long story short, he has a lot of attachment issues, and because of that forces himself to 'grow up', and abandon all the (healthy) coping mechanisms and comforts that help him survive. It isn't until he gets over this shame he taught himself to have for seeking out comfort (hugs, this specific stuffed animal, his brother) that he can finally let go of everything he hides and begin to heal.

Frypan

Frypan struggles with survivor's guilt, and takes on the burden of the care for all of his friends because of it. The problem is, he is just as hurt as everyone else, and gets depressed because he can't carry all that weight. He learns throughout the story that caring for others is a group effort, and it's a two-way street. He deserves to ask for help himself as well.

Gally

He shot Chuck sort of on accident. He thought he killed him and made his peace, but then Chuck turns up alive and boy did Gally have a lot of unresolved guilt. Similarly to Brenda, he doesn't trust himself with the lives of others. The difference is that while Brenda believes she can't protect people from danger, Gally believes he will be the one eventually causing the danger. Chuck's eventual trust in him help him grow a bit more confidence.

Minho

Minho hides his trauma. He believes that if he 'brings it up' that's what will make him suffer from it a while after it happened. He never tells anyone what happened to him. He won't share a thing. This means his nightmares and issues with reality last for most of the story, until he sees others improve when they share their struggles.

Newt

Newt died. Then he didn't, but he's still dying. He is also suffering from pretty severe depression. He seems almost at peace with death, until help from his friends and some professionals makes him realize actually, life can be worth living even if it's not that okay. If he lives, he can fight for a better tomorrow (I want his arc to be a bit tragedic, because it takes a while before they actually learn he's going to live).

Teresa

Teresa has never experienced unconditional love and it shows. She constantly tries to be of use to others in order to deserve safety or a minimum amount of decency (also because of a lot of guilt), to the point where she exhausts herself so much she literally collapses. Genuine care (conditional at the beginning, but largely because they thought she still worked for WCKD) helps her understand she doesn't have to enslave herself to be deserving of like, at least a pat on the back.

Thomas

Thomas is a bit too selfless to his own good. He keeps putting himself in harm's way to protect his friends and save people from the Flare, but when he finally realizes he can't save everyone, it's too late. He's driven everyone away (he thinks), and he can't escape WCKD no matter how hard he fights (that one is true). He almost seems to give up, but unexpected help from outside dig him out of the hole he buried himself in.

So far, Thomas's is the only one I've finished almost completely. In the first part he will grow into the Lie he overcomes through the story, so I'm planning a Fall Arc there. Same for part two, where he only digs himself in deeper until he realizes he made a grave mistake at the very end. In three, he sees the Truth. He understands it now. He doesn't have to save the world, that burden isn't something he was ever supposed to carry. The ugly part of it, though, is that in the previous parts he has played his cards in such a way that part three can end in nothing but WCKD. He finally finds his drive to escape, but now he's physically prevented from doing it (so this one is a bit of a Disillusionment Arc, since the Truth comes with second truth, which is that he can't outrun WCKD).

Part four and five are positive change arcs, where he rebuilds himself after the low point of the third part.

This got long again.... I just love planning this all out so much. I considered myself a pantser first, but now I've devoured everything I could find on story structure and character arcs I've just seen my story evolve so fast. I've really learned to combine plot and character, even with those eight. Definitely a challenge, but I like that about it. Balancing it all is what makes it more fun, because the deeper I go the more I see the connections between these characters and how their arcs compliment each other.

I don't really know what my point is this week but I guess the closest thing I can think of is just how much I love learning all these different ways I can bring personality to my story so organically (even if it is structured). I've gotten to know these characters (none of them are OCs, by the way) so much more intimately than I could before, and it's just opened up so many doors.

Normally I'm a bit too focused on word count goals, but I've been so excited to learn about these characters and design their arcs I haven't felt bad about it for one second XD.

this was an INCREDIBLE fab friday gush!!!

My mind was BLOWN when you started on the math portion - the fact that you went that DEEP into planning things out and piecing everything together is impressive!

Sometimes pantsing your WIP has its benefits, but honestly, planning some things out, having some idea of what's going to happen in the future so you can keep some foreshadowing in mind can really boost your confidence in your work!

I'm THRILLED that you're so deep into your writing, whether it's actual writing or planning and plotting!!! Great job!!!

#asks #fab friday writers #pathsofoak

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