#and the older more experienced folks keep saying that we’re much much more likely to end up killing someone

[monstersinthecosmos]

i love you asexuality in the VC post! i feel like i don't see people talk about the ace aspect of those books often, even though that was something that really spoke to me so much when i first read them (tbh it also makes me a little burned out to see some adaptations focus so much on the sex too because part of me is like. but i /liked/ the asexuality of it all! that wasn't a bug it was a feature!!)

I can’t always tell why we don’t talk about it more often; sometimes it feels like it’s so obvious that it goes unsaid, and other times I think ace folks in fandom are just so shy to bring it up because historically people have been such rancid cunts about it? I’m not sure.

But again and again, every time I make asexual VC posts, I get so many people commenting, tagging, DM’ing, inboxing to thank me or tell me they feel seen, and that’s what we need more of! 

It’s hard because like, I understand why visual adaptations feel the need to show it visibly, especially because I think it’s easy to forget that asexuality is already so heavily misunderstood/underdiscussed IN the queer community itself, and when we see this bullshit on TUMBLR of all places it tells me that even inside the queer echo chamber we are struggling for visibility. So I don’t expect mainstream audiences and ~ regular people ~ to understand it at all. I also fully respect the politics behind SHOWING SEX and being loud about it. I think that’s very much needed in the current political climate.

There’s a discussion to be had about non-sexual intimacy and split attraction models though; for example, we could also visually communicate with kissing and casual intimacy, touching, cuddling, etc, and the nature of TV and using sex to sell means that it’s not enough. And when you see an adaptation on a network that can’t use graphic sex anyway, it winds up being a lot of telling and not showing, so by that point I wonder why they can’t just be more casually intimate. 

It goes back to the misunderstanding in the books, too, like, the non-sexual romance and intimacy, even the vampire-sensual intimacy isn’t subtext. Not fucking doesn’t make the queerness subtext. It just means they’re not fucking, and I think when fans insist otherwise we’re getting into “all queer people are obsessed with sex” rhetoric that’s extremely problematic, and if you’re keeping score it’s the current talking point of the right to try to erase our existence in public. But the way this gets weaponized within fandom (on both sides) is just so fucking tired lmao. 

The whole conversation can be a huge bummer and I have interacted with tons of ace folks in this fandom over the years and everyone felt the same way about the canon asexuality and appreciated it and felt seen, etc. Especially older fans who didn’t know what asexuality was and likely felt alienated or were made to feel broken. So I just would love if people could discuss it without punching down at ace people and taking away like, the one fucking thing we had lol, and it would also be great if defensive ace folks didn’t overcorrect and try to center sexlessness as a moralizing tool, because it isn’t. I think when we start weaponizing and trying to arm ourselves by turning orientation into ethics we’re losing the plot. I think sometimes allos punch back and get defensive because they think we’re saying they’re gross for wanting to see sex or whatever and that’s not really the point. 

Personally, I read the books young enough that I always felt very supported by them, like I experienced the same confusion and worry about being broken but also the books were such a source of comfort because I was like, oh I just appreciate people the way vampires do.

Anyway it also provides so much rich extra context and framing for some of the characters and their intentions and can inform so much more meta. Like, examining themes of rape (vampire/biting rape vs literal rape) there’s so much to unpack about intention and desire when vampires see humans as food, when pleasure is about thirst and feeding and survival and nourishment and not only about sexual gratification. It just adds a whole other layer to discuss and I think that enhances the stories a lot. And like I said earlier, I understand that reducing it to “asexuality” as a human construct might seem as reductive as reducing it strictly to sex, but I hope one day people can build their cases against it without being so dismissive of ace people because it’s really recognizable and prominent in the text.

[wigglebox]

NYCC The Winchesters - 1x01 screening, panel

Good morning/afternoon/evening people! 

So I had to take a break from art in order to write down my first impressions on things for the prequel pilot and the subsequent panel after. 

Note that I haven’t had any time to watch any interviews the folks did before the screening/panel, so this is just me writing what I experienced in ~*the room where it happened*~. The bulk will be behind a read more! 

** Note, I try to avoid mega spoilers but I do go into my impressions of the pilot and my emotions with it, AND I do outline the characters. I try not to get into the nitty gritty since y’all will mostly be seeing it tomorrow anyway, but if you don’t want even a HINT of a spoiler, just don’t read it lol. 

The tldr; I loved it, it has so much to expand on, and I can’t wait to start speculating with y’all again on something SPN based. 

—

I won’t lie, I was nervous.

Not because I didn’t think this show wouldn’t do a good job, because it’s made it this far — which is a lot considering the last two attempts at a spin-off were dead in the water. I was more or less nervous of the audience reception.

Living in one's own head as a Supernatural fan makes you and your goldfish bowl of friends in your Twitter GC and Discord servers, have a set of parameters of what makes a good Supernatural episode or not. But not everyone else shares those parameters that you have convinced yourself are right.

And I was nervous because, given those parameters, I had to keep reminding myself that this isn’t Supernatural. It is its own thing. It’s its own form, own show, with a connection to the main show. These are new characters, even if we knew the older versions of two of them already. Everything is still basically brand new.

My nerves came from a mixture of anticipation, fearing audience reception after the year and a half wait we had to think about this show, and not knowing if I or the audience can see this show as its own individual self and not just another Supernatural episode.

Suffice to say after like, the first five minutes those nerves were gone.

The Pilot

I’m going to get this out of the way before I continue. Pilots aren’t ever perfect. Even Supernatural’s pilot, which is a pilot that I consider to be top-tier, has some clunkiness. 

Pilots can drag, or pilots can speed — there’s rarely an inbetween. The Winchesters pilot seemed to be a little fast paced, trying to introduce the premise of the show a little too quick. The pacing of events and understanding and dialogue kind of felt like this should have been a two hour episode and not the 40 minute one we’re going to get. 

And, some of the dialogue, just like in its predecessor, was indeed clunky exposition. 

But I’m saying this as someone who yes, understands that’s what that was — but also someone who doesn’t take this into account when it comes to what makes a pilot successful. In fact, I never expect perfection in pilots. 

The Winchesters pilot has a lot riding on it. Not only is it the third attempt at a spin off, but it’s having to perform two duties where the original Supernatural pilot only had to do one.

The Winchesters pilot has to both grab old fans, and intrigue new ones. The original Supernatural pilot just had to attract new fans and build up a new world.

So, given that The Winchesters has to do a little extra work, and given that it’s a network pilot, a pilot in general — for me — the fast-paced nature of the episode doesn’t really affect it negatively for me. I expected it, and I’m sure others did as well.

A successful pilot for me is 1) am I interested in this world/characters 2) did you make me ask enough questions to come back next week?

And, The Winchesters scored on both of those accounts!

The episode opens up with its standard cold open where you mostly see a character you have no idea who they are, doing something that’s going to launch you into the next 45 minutes of adventure with the main characters. But, this cold open also has to launch us into the entire season. It’s the first-ever cold open for The Winchesters and it worked very well.

I’m not going to get too much into plot, to keep this spoiler free, however I will say in my head I described it as the Scooby Doo Avengers. When I say Scooby Doo I don’t mean campy, zoinks, goofy monsters of the week — but that there is this team, that is clearly already close, willing to do what it takes to figure something out. And... they have a van lol. 

In the group there is tension already from the get go, which I love. By group, I mean Lata [Latika but Lata is her nickname], Mary, and Carlos have already known each other.

Small spoiler, but at once point Lata tells, not asks, Mary “You’re still mad at me.” Carlos and Mary have tension and unresolved past things that they gotta talk about at some point probably. And John blends in with them rather effortlessly. I will say I’ll be keeping my eyes on John and Lata right now.

But all four of them had a chemistry that already worked. Not like “Oh we all love each other here, no problems at all!” kind of chemistry, but chemistry where you can tell that interactions aren’t being forced. Almost like they’ve been acting together for years by that point, even though they hadn’t.

That was another thing I enjoyed about this core four, the fact that they’re each their own characters but they’re also not standing out too much from each other. That they both don’t blend into each other, but also they’re not so over the top it feels like a caricature.

Here are my first impressions of the characters:

Lata is a book nerd, clearly the “brains” but she’s also rather timid, nervous about hunts, and finds her satisfying success when it comes to what she’s learned on the page rather than hunting down a monster. She’s softer-spoken, and I can see her being the more level-headed grounded one of the group. However, I can also see where her self doubt can get the better of her, and her fear, and given a conversation she has with Mary in the van — I have to wonder if something bad happened in the recent past that made her like this.

Mary is the kind of Mary I felt like we got with Sam Smith. Marching forward, doing what she has to do, almost “going through the motions” of being a Hunter. She already voices her desire to walk away from this, and it’s hinted in that conversation with Lata, something went wrong recently that caused a big upheaval in her life. But that’s kind of a plot point that can be saved for when you watch it Tuesday. Of all four of the characters, it felt like I knew Mary the most because we got later-seasons Mary for a hot second. However, you can see how Meg Donnelly brings her own understanding of the character to the table. I am so very interested to see where she goes throughout this series.

Carlos will be the problem child (affectionate). When the role was first cast, and you got his description, you saw JoJo getting cast, and then seeing him in the trailer, folks already pinged on him being the fandom favorite and I can see that. He’s sharp, witty, already has some one-liners, and I can easily see him causing but also solving problems for the group. One thing that gets me is that he comes across as almost stubborn, not willing to admit when he’s wrong, so I can imagine that comes back into play. That indication comes with a small conversation with Lata over something that happened in the past. It’s played off as a “ha ha,” but if you think about it deeper, you’re seeing someone who knows what he wants and likely will do what he has to do to get it. There are definitely two Alphas in this group, Carlos and Mary, and I can see them butting heads at some point.

And now we’re at John.

When this prequel was first leaked onto Deadline in June 2021, folks (save for myself and a few others that were on my timeline and Discord) immediately rocketed to their feet to voice their displeasure at John being a focal point.

Accusations of trying to twist the narrative and make excuses for John’s behavior in Supernatural-Prime (neglect, child abuse, etc.), or that the constant reminder that John and Mary’s love story was manufactured so how on earth could you have a story about it — or just the attitude in fandom that’s been in there since I’VE started, back in 2013, that John Winchester is an Asshole.

But, a few pointed out that indeed we don’t actually know anything about John aside from his father, Henry, “walking out” on him and his mother, and… that was it. The flashback episodes we had with Matt Cohen’s John were that of a story that we kinda already figured. “In the Beginning” was more about Mary and showing Dean how that deal was made, and “The Song Remains the Same” served as a lesson for Dean and Sam to understand that they “can’t escape fate” with their bloodline. 

Nothing’s really known about John at all, especially before 1973. 

That being said, I really have to spend this portion completely cheering Drake’s John on because holy moly. 

Drake has, and will continue to have, an uphill battle trying to get the most hardened Anti-John folk on board (a struggle Matt Cohen didn’t have to have as much I think). But, given the life that he’s brought to John in this pilot alone, I don’t think it’ll be too much of a struggle. 

I joked that with them casting Drake that “it’s almost like they want us to love and adore him” but I’m not even joking anymore. I adore him. 

Indeed, it’s important to note that this John is not the John we wind up with in the main show. And the cast and everyone involved knows that and have stated as such in interviews. They’re not erasing or rewriting anything. 

The truth, for me, is far more tragic:

The John in the pilot is likable with an almost puppy-like innocence, looking to get answers but also someone dealing with trauma himself as someone who went into the Vietnam War way too early and suffered the consequences of that. I won’t get into specifics, but there’s a touching moment when he’s describing what he saw and what happened to a dear friend and I almost cried. 

You have a kid, and yes I’m calling him a kid, suffering from this trauma in a way that you see twice in the episode, while also someone keeping his head held high while following orders and the motions from his new group of Scooby Doo hunters that he stumbled into. 

When asked how he found someone so fast, John remarks that’s what he does because he was in the Marines. So we get little glimpses of that. 

His ending moment after the final climax of the action was so adorable I wanted to squish his cheeks and yes, I know that’s weird, but he was so proud of himself. 

But, in my opinion, it also demonstrated something that I think may or may not come back — and that’s that he did what he did down there in the tomb almost a little too easily and without freaking out. And was excited to tell his new friends about it.

John in this show I think will become someone that even the most reluctant watchers may come to find they really like. 

And to me, that’s making him automatically, from episode one, one of the most tragic characters. 

Already in the pilot, I was mentally screaming for John to turn back, don’t investigate, don’t do any of this, because we know what’s waiting for him down this path.

I have to mentally make a line in the sand to separate Drake from Matt from JDM because there’s no way I can continue going with The Winchesters and not completely support and adore John and his efforts to understand the Men of Letters and also being with his friends.

With characters out of the way, I’ll mention we don’t get much with Ada or Millie, however I can’t wait to see more of them in the future and what they have to offer. Millie seemingly already knew about the Men of Letters and Ada — in my head when she was first announced as a character I saw her as a Bobby character, just the know it all that can be their “save us because we don’t know what else to do!” character. However it feels like she can, and likely will be, more than that. 

As for the plot of the episode, this is where my “Is a pilot successful” requirement is filled for “Are there enough questions to keep me coming back.”

The answer is, holy shit yes. 

Particularly two things, which I can’t wait to speculate on when the episode airs. One involves John and his letter with the Men of Letters star on it, and the other of who the big bad is for the entire season. I’m so excited to speculate with people on that.

But also, this hunters world in the 1970s is so different to me than what we were first introduced to in 2005. They don’t have cell phones, they don’t have GPS, they don’t have computers, they don’t have quick ways of communicating with each other. They will have a network, sure, but its the 70s. They also don’t have access to THEE Men of Letters bunker, at least for now, which holds a lot of information as well. 

So I have questions about those too. 

I didn’t want this show to just be about “hey let’s do a case study on John” and it doesn’t feel like it’s going to be that. I don’t mind that, but I also wanted this show to stand on its own.

And it’s clear that they’re looking at it in a way that will provide an actual story that can get folded back into Supernatural-Prime.

The Panel

After the pilot screening, there was a 30 minute panel with Danneel, Jensen, Meg, Drake, and Robbie and holy wow.

I wish I could convey to anyone reading this, especially anyone who had any doubts over anything, just how much this group cares. 

Like, it’s not even just in their words saying it, but you can feel it, and I wasn’t even in the front row. It was this like, almost electrical current in the air that could reach you and make you truly, fully, 100% understand that they’re not doing this just for kicks. 

They’re not just tossing aside whatever they want, that they’re not just doing this as a cash grab or anything — but that they’re a team of creatives that really truly wholly believe in this world that the main show created and wanted to explore that more. 

They do treat the existing material with respect, and that they’re not going to just throw all those 15 years of blood sweat and tears down the drain.

I remember in the months following the Deadline leak, folks online kept stamping their feet about canon this and canon that. We haven’t had much press until just recently about it therefore come comments that would be made at a Supernatural convention by Jackles from time to time would have to suffice, but still didn’t convince many.

I think at the time also, when the Deadline leak happened, a lot of opposition I saw came from younger fans, or newer fans, who started season 12 and onward (or even after the show ended) and didn’t quite understand just how monumental it was that Robbie was brought on board.

Robbie stopped writing for the show in season 11 and I wanted to take an informal survey of fandom asking them if they truly understood the word that he did. Some folks don’t pay attention to who writes what.

His episodes I find tend to be some of the most gif’ed episodes on Tumblr or most talked about episodes in general. Any one of his episodes you’d likely find up in any fan’s top 10 list. He’s given us Charlie, Eileen, and even had a hand in bringing Chuck back both in Fan Fiction and in Don’t Call Me Shurely.

For many folks who were in fandom before Andrew Dabb took over some time in season 11, Robbie was easily one of the top three writers for many people.

And there’s a good reason for that. Between writing snappy dialogue and getting characterizations down really well, he’s also seemingly a master at these unconventional episodes. He’s had more normal ones like Goodbye Stranger, 8x17, and First Born (9x11) among others, but he’s also done Baby, Girl with the Dungeons and Dragons Tattoo, LARP and the Real Girl, Bitten, Fan Fiction, Meta Fiction and the like.

He’s written episodes that were great for character showcasing while also having unconventional storytelling apparatuses as well. My favorite one of his episodes was Time After Time, 7x12.

Suffice it to say, them grabbing Robbie for this project really stood out to me, which is probably why when Deadline first leaked the project, I wasn’t upset. To me, if Robbie was involved, then that’s really all I needed to feel secure in knowing that whatever, or however, they were going to tell this story, he’ll have fun figuring it out.

And I can’t even begin to describe how much it really does come across how much Jackles cares. 

It’s very very easy for someone with that amount of talent to just peace out from a 15-year show that ended, a show that likely made taking other roles nearly impossible, and just go on to do bigger things. 

But the fact that he stuck around and that even before the show wrapped in Sept. 2020 (due to the pandemic) he was already starting on this? That means a lot to me. Like, no matter what he does, he seems to want to keep one hand on his roots and that can only benefit us because you don’t do that unless you really believe in it and care about it.

It’s also hilarious to me that in these press interviews, he’s basically being outed as THEE biggest SPN brain rot stan and, he’s not alone there. We have jackets, dude!

So yes, up on stage, with them answering questions and describing the process, how they’re viewing this — you can tell there’s a reverence they have for the material and understand truly how much time, energy, blood, sweat, tears, smiles, sadness, chaos had gone into the main show.

--

The pilot was good, it was something that would keep me interested with the characters they presented and the premise of the rest of the season to come. It established that we’re not in 2005-2020 anymore, it established a kind of big bad that we’re not used to seeing*, and it had enough easter eggs that satisfied my little Supernatural heart but not over doing it.

*This is something I can’t wait to speculate about.

On a personal note, I’ve been excited since that night, and had felt almost like I was in limbo for the last year and a half waiting for this moment and it was so satisfying seeing the pilot and understanding that my excitement and enthusiasm wasn’t misplaced in the slightest. 

I went into this with the question of “Will I be disappointed in all of this hype that I’ve helped build up for this, both in my head and outwardly?” And the screening and panel shot back: “Nah you’re good.” 

So I can’t wait to rewatch this Tuesday night, and then I can’t wait to watch it the following Tuesday, and again, and again. 

I’m excited for The Winchesters to grow its wings and fly! 

[teacherintransition]

Six Months Young; Six Months Old

Observation of the transitions for …uh, the teacher

The repetitive, merry go round cycle of time spins again and it’s the holiday season. (Bah humbug) Yes, surely I jest, a little; but the calendar turns and our behaviors are dictated by it. A good/bad kinda thing happening. One of my goals when embarking upon retirement was to free myself, to the degree possible, of the time obsessed routine of our lives …you know, free your ass and your mind will follow. It’s a tougher task than we realize. For two years, our cycle had an unplanned, but very welcome change when Kim and I embarked on a eureka path of traveling the country and the world thirteen weeks at a time. Oh it’s a scene man; fun, exciting, challenging, adventurous and we love it!

Being an anxious over thinker, I will on occasion deconstruct events in a way that most folks do not. Great perceptions and observations? Yes, please. Worries and anxiety on the side? Sorry, no substitutions, you can’t have one without the other. Over analyzing this may be, but it seems that I’m able to experience what life would be like based on certain choices. Allow me to elaborate: choice one, hitting the road and seeing sights and countries that are new to us; choice two, settle at the homestead and do my Nacogdoches stuff. We’re doing both. I can see what the two lives are like and how different I am in each situation. Neither are intrinsically bad, but very different.

Kim gets two thirteen or more week gigs a year; which is twenty six weeks and we are home twenty six weeks. That’s half a year each broken up every three months. They do differ. Three months at a time we are in Nacogdoches and life slows its pace. We walk our same walks, cook at home more, sit in the swing with my pups, visit our kids and grandkids often; pretty much routine. I grab coffee at the same coffee shops I’ve patronized for years, enjoy cigars with my fellow middle aged and older dudes at our lounge and engage in common conversations. We check on my aunt and one of my best friends often and it’s the same ole same ole. Routine and tradition can be a good thing, but …but while here, I feel my age. I don’t feel bad, but I’m aware of a downward slope in things. I’m not fooling myself, I know I got more behind me than in front of me. It’s ok, but I’m not ready to slow down so completely. I’m lucky it’s only three months at a time.

How does choice one differ from being in Nacogdoches? It differs magnificently. For three months at a time Kim and I are seeing, living at, experiencing things and places we’ve never been. Everyday is something different. Do I get coffee at a local establishment? Of course, I’m a civilized man. Beyond that lifetime routine, it’s an adventure daily. Mountains to see and trails to hike, museums to visit, Art to see, people to befriend, pubs to crawl, cities to explore, art to make, new restaurants to try …it’s exciting my friends… oh, very exciting. Yes, we get a little tired and homesick at times but it makes us feel young and adventurous …like I said, it’s a scene man. We never thought we would ever have the guts to do life like this.

I’m certain you’re expecting me to say which is my favorite approach. Apples and oranges, both different, but I do like oranges a bit better, but enjoy apples too. Traveling is the orange. Yessir and all the tangy, sweet flavor that goes with it. It’s movement it’s not sitting still, it’s growing as a person, it’s finding new worlds to explore and share. It’s not being a slave to routine just visiting it once in a while for rest and stability. I remember watching “World War Z” with Brad Pitt. In a scene where he’s trying to get a family to leave with him to escape the zombies, Brad tells them, “we gotta go …movement is life.” Keep moving, keep growing, keep seeing and don’t let the zombies get you; or the rocker, avoid the rocking chair. Again, let me say there is no self delusion here, but we’re gonna squeeze all we can out of our days for as long as possible. This is good advice for our younger folks too. Don’t chain yourselves to routines… keep moving!

[the-bau-quinjet]

Always

Summary: You overhear Steve talking to Bucky about going back to be with Peggy. Rather than confronting the situation, you write him a letter.

Warnings: I cried just thinking about writing this, so much angst, some swearing

Word Count: 3305

a/n: here it is folks: the sad fic I mentioned a few posts ago. Inspired by a multitude of songs from the album Ashlyn by Ashe. I high key recommend listening to that album while you read or just in general. I'm pretending like nobody died in Endgame because that shit is sad and I know this is sad aside from that, but I still have a heart ya know?

Per usual, any song lyrics (or song lyrics that I changed a bit) are in bold! I think used lyrics from Me Without You, Save Myself, I'm Fine, Love is Not Enough, and Always.

Masterlist

"You'd really want to go back?" You overheard Bucky right before you walked into Steve's room.

"I don't know." He let out a deep sigh. "I mean, I do know, but what do you think?" Steve's answer left you wondering what they were discussing.

"All for Peggy?" Your heart stopped waiting for Steve to reply.

Another sigh escaped his lips. You could easily picture him running his hands down his face, a signal he was deep in thought. "I mean, I never got a chance to see what would happen with her. Don't you think she deserves this much?"

You felt frozen. You couldn't hear the rest of Steve's answer or Bucky's reply over the sound of blood rushing through your ears.

It was all too much to handle. Rather than confront the grab bag of emotions swimming inside of you, you turned around and went back to your room in a zombie like haze.

"Friday, don't let anyone in my room."

You know the AI replied, but you were still too caught up in thought to understand it. Your mind was full of questions you knew you couldn't figure out the answers to alone.

Why would Steve want to go back for Peggy when he had you? Why would he even consider it if he loved you like he said he does? Is he still in love with Peggy? Has he been in love with her the whole time? Why would he choose her when he's spent so much more time with you?

"Y/N?" The sound of Steve's voice outside your door startled you. "Y/N, honey, are you in there?"

You could hear the doorknob rattling in his attempt to open it, but Friday was doing as you asked.

"I thought you were going to meet me downstairs?"

His words only broke your heart more, a small sniffle escaping despite your efforts to remain quiet.

"Are you not feeling well? What's wrong?"

His questions were left unanswered, much like the questions swimming around your head.

Steve kept talking to you through the door for a while, but you never replied. You weren't ready to face him, not until you knew you wouldn't say something you'd later regret.

-

The next few days carried on much the same. You refused to leave your room, relying on various snacks and protein bars you had for food. Every few hours, you would try to write down what you were feeling, but it didn't help calm you down the same way it typically did.

Everyone tried talking to you, but nothing worked. Steve spent hours outside your door every day in an effort to get you to talk to him, but you just couldn't figure out your emotions. It was all still too much to handle.

Late one night, Steve said something that forced you into action.

"Y/N, I don't know what happened, but if I did something I'm truly sorry. I'm returning the stones tomorrow. We've never not said goodbye before a mission... I just hope this one is the same."

You listened as he quietly walked back down the hallway, steps slowly receding until you were left in the same absolute silence you've spent the last few days.

You knew you had to talk to him, but hearing him say to your face that he's staying with Peggy would kill you.

You couldn't survive a permanent goodbye, not in your current state of mind.

After a few minutes of silent contemplation, you decided to write Steve a letter. Maybe you'd give it to him or maybe it would just help you organize your thoughts. Either way, it would be helpful to write to someone for a change.

Hi Steve,

I, well, I guess I'll start with this. You deserve an apology. I'm truly sorry for ignoring you for the past few days. I just... I heard what you said to Bucky and I didn't know how to deal with it.

You know I've never been the best at controlling my emotions, so I just holed myself up in here. I avoided you so I could figure out my own feelings first.

I know I should talk to you. You deserve that too, but I don't think I could survive the heartbreak. I guess I'll try to explain everything I've been thinking and feeling since that night.

Honestly, I'm not sure where to start. It feels kind of stupid to say, but I obviously experienced a range of emotions when I first heard you and Bucky talking about going back.

You know I've always found solace in writing, so that's what I'm doing. I needed a way to clear my thoughts, and it turned into this concoction of thoughts and some poems - you know how I feel about poems. (Look at that! A sarcastic comment! I didn't think I was capable of humor anymore.)

This might not surprise you, but the first emotion I clung to was anger. I'm not angry anymore, well at least not as angry. Anyway, I wrote this next part when I was absolutely pissed at you.

-

What the fuck?

You want to go back in time and stay there?

You want to leave me behind?

Steve, what the fuck is wrong with you?

I could keep you here. If I really wanted to, I could figure out a way to do it. I could cut the brakes just to keep you from leaving. I'll do it too. My hands on the wheel would drive us into a wall.

You must think I'm being petty. Hiding in my room like a child to avoid you. All the while, here I am writing all the things I could do to keep you. Well, news flash: I don't need you. You made me think the only world I could exist in, was one you lived in, almost had me fooled.

Here's something you probably never considered, because I sure as shit never thought I'd even need to. I can be me without you. I don't have to rely on you for my own happiness. I thought you loved me, but if you want to go back and be with Peggy, do it. Go find yourself, let me down.

It's easy to sit here now and look back on how everything we had would always be second string to your relationship with her. God damn hindsight's 2020.

I want you to know, you did this to me. You broke my heart. When I heard you say you wanted a chance to be with Peggy, it's like my whole world crumbled down around me.

Everything I thought I knew was ripped out from under me. You poured rain all over my sunny. Yeah, someday, this could all be funny, but right now it's absolute shit.

And maybe everything will work out the way it's meant to be, but honestly I couldn't give less of a shit about that right now.

If I had the chance, I would take it back. Everything. Meeting you. Becoming friends. Dating you. Falling in love. I'd be jumping off your sinking ship, instead of going down with it.

It'd be so much easier that way. If I never fucking knew you.

One day I'll be good. I'll be over all of this bullshit. Right now I'm just mad. And you know what, it's justifiable. I think I'm allowed to be mad at you.

I'm over being so mature. If only I was never yours. Maybe I'll go back in time and undo it all. Then at least I could save myself from you.

-

Like I said, I wrote that in the heat of the moment. Once my brain caught up to my ears, all I saw was red. Anger didn't last as long as you might think though.

All that was how I felt in the moment, but I want you to know it's not true. I don't really believe any of it. I was hurt and angry and avoiding the pain I knew was just around the corner.

I've always told you anger would be my downfall because I just can't control what I say.

Let me be completely clear, I would never want to undo meeting you. You've been the best part of my life for years. I need you to know that I don't regret any of it and I never will.

Anyway, the anger shifted to tears pretty quickly. It wasn't hard to feel the pain that comes with someone you love leaving you. I can't honestly picture a world where I don't love you.

This is the first poem I wrote. With tear blurring my vision, I put pen to paper and this is what came out.

Complicated. Understated. On the way to, Devastated. I'm just holding on for dear life.

Short and sweet, right? Well, not so much sweet, but you get the point. I feel broken. Here's another bit of poetry for ya.

Right now I'm sorry, Burns through me darling, But I can't help hope In thirty years it won't.

Maybe I just need time. That's what everyone always says. "Time can heal all wounds."

It's hard to even think about moving on though when everything reminds me of you. I've got emotional souvenirs from fleeting moments we spent together. If this is the end, I'll always know you were my golden years. I know in the future I could close my eyes and go back there.

Maybe that's the hardest part. Knowing I'll always have these memories.

All I've been thinking about for the past three days is if this will ever feel better. And maybe it will, when time has passed.

Maybe when I'm older, I'll run out of stories about you. Maybe when I'm older, I'll know what it's like not to love you, Anymore.

Despite my best efforts, it's still only a maybe. Maybe when I'm older I'll be able to stop thinking about you every second of the day. Maybe when I'm older I won't feel like crying everytime I see your face.

But maybe not. Maybe I'll always feel this way.

Maybe when I'm six feet, underneath the concrete, I'll know what it's like not to want you, anymore.

I'm not saying all this to make you feel guilty. You don't need to tell me you're sorry. I know you are. I know you would never hurt me like this without a reason.

I should just talk to you, but I don't think I can. Not yet. We don't need to talk til we're ready. Both of us.

I guess I do have one question. Do you really love me?

I don't think I want to know the answer right now. Because even if you do... it takes a lot more than a rose, more than a kiss, more than a heart to truly love someone and spend forever with them.

It takes a lot more than a ring, more than a vow, more than a promise to build and maintain a relationship.

Love is not enough. I know that now. Even if you love me to the best of your abilities, you could still love Peggy more. Love may not be enough for us, but at least we got that much.

If you leave, I'll live the rest of my life grateful that at least I got your touch for as long as I did.

I used to think we could take our sweet time, that everything would be just fine. But now I know maybe not.

I cried for days. Like I said, I'm not writing this to make you feel guilty though. I just want to be completely honest. I cried a lot, probably more than I ever have before.

I kept replaying memories of time I spent with you. Not even dates, just the small moments that made me know I love you.

Like that day I woke up too early, almost put salt in my coffee. Oh I thank God that you stopped me before that.

I've never been a morning person, but ever since I met you you've always been there to keep my head on straight.

I think the thing I love most about you is how you can read me better than anyone I've ever known. I can hide from everyone else and they won't bat an eye. They never can tell when I'm falling apart on the inside.

No matter how hard I try to hide it though, you don't believe me when I say I'm alright. You can always, always tell.

It's like you've got a sixth sense that tells you I need you when I try to say I'm fine.

Before I met you, I would get so lonely everyday. Now I'm only lonely until you ask if I'm okay and then I remember that I have people who are there for me. I have you.

All this to say, I love you, Steve. I love you more than I've ever loved another human being.

Forever yours,

Y/N

-

It took you nearly all night to write a coherent letter and come up with a plan to talk to Steve. A quick glance at the clock let you know Steve would be up any minute, so you had to act fast.

You opened your door for the first time in days, running in a full sprint to the stairs and down the hall to Steve's door.

With one final burst of courage, you shoved the letter under the door and ran away before anyone could find you out of your room.

-

"Y/N?" A familiar knock on your door woke you from a restless sleep. "I read your letter, Y/N please let me explain."

It felt like time slowed down as you stared at the door.

"Y/N, I have to bring the stones back, but I really want to talk to you first."

"Come in." You steadied yourself with a deep breath, but one look at Steve ruined your flimsy resolve.

"Y/N... I tried to wait for you to come to me, but..."

He stopped talking when you shook your head, a painful sob forming in your chest.

"I've been thinking a lot." You started slowly, voice scratchy from days of not being used except to cry. "What if staying with me isn't the best thing to keep you happy?"

"Y/N, I-"

"Please let me finish." You waited for him to acknowledge your words before you spoke again.

"If letting you go is the best way to show that I love you, I will." Tears poured down your cheeks, breaths coming to you shakily.

"Captain Rogers, your presence is requested in the backyard." Friday's voice echoed through the room.

Steve looked more torn than you've ever seen him.

"Let's go." You nodded toward the door. "I've got more to say, but you've got somewhere to be."

Slowly, the two of you walked down the hall and entered the elevator.

"I don't know if you'll ever come back-"

"Y/N, really just let me-"

"Steve, please." You begged him to let you get it all out. "I won't ask 'cause that's selfish."

"It's not." He cut in again.

"It is. You deserve to be as happy as possible." With a slow, shaky breath you continued your speech. "I've come to terms I might never feel whole again."

The elevator doors slid open. You followed Steve to the yard where they set up the time machine.

"I'll be broken when you're gone, but I won't hold you back if it's wrong."

"Steve, there you are! Let's go-"

"In a minute, Sam." Steve's eyes never left you, remaining soft and caring. "We can go back inside if you want." He ran his thumbs over your cheeks, ridding them of tears only to be instantly replaced. You've always hated crying in front of people.

"I don't care what people say." You shook your head, ignoring the potential pitying looks you could receive for crying in front of others. Another deep breath, and you continued. "You know I won't force you to stay."

It was your turn to wipe tears from Steve's face.

"If you leave, I'll be okay. Just promise that you won't forget me babe."

"I could never-" He cut in again only to stop when you gave him a pleading look.

"I understand if leaving is what you have to do. I don't want you to go, but I'll be okay, eventually." You let out a watery chuckle, wiping your eyes again.

"Y/N, I never meant for-"

"Steve, you ready?" Sam interrupted again.

"It's fine. You can go." You did your best to hold back any lingering tears. You had to physically turn Steve around yourself and push him towards the machine.

"Y/N, please, I can't-"

"Steve, they're waiting for you. It's okay, I promise." He finally started to walk away only to pause when you called out one more thing. "Oh, Steve?"

"Yeah?" He wore a solemn smile.

"I'll love you always."

You watched as he listened to Banner's instructions and bid farewell to Sam and Bucky. The bitter part of you wondered if Sam knew.

A strangled sob left your mouth as soon as Steve disappeared. All three men standing around the machine looked your way, Sam and Bucky running toward you to help.

"He should be back any second. It's fine!" Sam desperately tried to console you, but you knew it wouldn't work.

"Y/N. Y/N! Listen to me. Did Steve talk to you?" Bucky asked, ignoring Sam's bewildered expression.

You nodded pitifully.

"Did he explain-" You cut him off.

"He- he didn't ha-have time.: You stuttered as you tried desperately to gulp in air through the tears. "I did most of the talking. I needed him to know it was okay."

"To know what was okay?" Sam asked, still clearly confused.

The thought of explaining it only broke you down more. You would have fallen to the ground if not for Bucky catching you. Your body leaned into his.

"Doll..." Bucky shook his head. "You should have let him explain."

You choked on another sob just thinking about it.

"Shh, it's okay. You'll be okay." Bucky whispered in your ear, ignoring Sam's confused glares.

"Y/N..." The sound of Steve's voice echoed in your ears causing another painful sob to jolt through your body.

"Baby, please look at me."

You genuinely thought you were hallucinating when you opened your eyes to see Steve towering over you.

"Steve?" Your voice was barely a whisper.

"It's me, I'm here." He gently took you from Bucky's arms, cradling you close to him but leaning his head far enough away for you to look into your eyes.

"You came back..." Your tears slowed, gently falling down your cheeks as you stared at him wide-eyed.

"I was never planning to leave." He spoke while gently stroking your hair.

"B-but, you were talking to Bucky about going back?" Your tears gave way to confusion as you glanced between him and Bucky.

"Just to say goodbye." He pressed a soft kiss to your forehead, breathing in your scent. "I just thought she deserved a real goodbye."

New tears pooled in your eyes as you took in his words. "So, you never wanted to leave me?"

"I could never, and would never, leave you. I love you so much. I just wish I knew why you were holed up in your room sooner." He smiled at you, the same adoring smile he gave you the first time you met.

"I love you too. Always." You leaned into his embrace, relishing in the touch you thought you'd lost forever. He whispered his reply, clinging to you just as much as you were to him.

"Always."

a/n: today I discovered I am truly incapable of writing a sad ending. I just like the idea of escaping to a reality where Steve would never abandon me.

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@averyhotchner

@jesuswasnotawhiteman

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[hunflowers]

The Aftermath

Word Count: 3.7k

Requested? Yes, and you can too, here :)

A/N: here she is, the little piece of the puzzle y’all have been waiting for. it’s a small part two of 1964, and it’ll take place just after their reunion at the end of the story!! i hope you enjoy it, because i missed writing my babies a lot and i hope you love them just as much as me.

pls, reblog the fics you read or heck even if you see it on your dash; it means a lot <3

good luck and have fun, in that order *nose boops*

“Happy Birthday, Rose.”

No one can explain the phenomenon of joy processed through the body and soul as Harry spoke those simple words into the air to Y/N.

It can only be described as a chill shooting down her spine, flaring goosebumps on her skin, her mouth running dry at the sight of him, or maybe the way her eyes glossed over with a glistening sheen. Pure joy.

As if she didn't already feel transported back to 1964 when sharing her many stories with her eager to learn granddaughter, she certainly did now. Seeing Harry's face, the same features that made her swoon all those years ago - though a little mature now - made her feel like she was her twenty-one year old self all over again.

It felt like a movie, as if the two of them shaped back into their younger statures, adorned in the style from way back when, embodying a world of black and white that would explode into color. Hannah and Eleanor disappeared into the future, and all there was, was Harry and Y/N like how they once were.

Before she could process what she was doing, Y/N was scurrying across the wood floor, walking the fast she has in a while, throwing her arms around Harry’s shoulders and burying her face into the crook of his neck. She could feel the rumble of his chest as he laughed, easily reciprocating the love by engulfing her in a hug, pulling her impossibly closer.

The smell of the roses swarmed Y/N’s nose, tingling her senses in the best way possible. Her brain was overpowering as it continued to be overwhelmed by the events happening, still trying to understand how Harry, her H, was in front of her.

Pulling away a few moments later - but not completely unraveling herself from his hold - she looked up at him, looking at her favorite shade of green that she tried so hard to recreate yet always failed. “Are you really here?”

“Yes! He is, Nona!” Ellie cheered from behind her, causing everyone to gape at her while also laughing. He’s really here, in her arms, breathing the same air as her.

Maybe he wasn’t a dream, after all.

Looking back up at him, Y/N smiled softly, bringing her hands up under his jaw, using her thumbs to caress the soft skin that was lined with a little bit of stubble. “I missed you,” she whispered, almost like it was meant to be a secret.

With his own little grin, Harry placed his own free hand on her cheek, using his thumb to swipe the tear that managed to escape her eye without her noticing. Instinctively, Y/N leaned her head to rest in his palm, a reflex she never seemed to have shake.

Harry didn’t have to say anything back for her to know that he felt the same way, if not more. His actions always spoke a lot louder than his words, and it also seemed that old habits hardly seem to die, even so many years later.

“Okay,” Hannah cleared her throat, trying to gain the attention of the two older folk for the first time in the last couple of minutes. “We’re meeting Aunt Carmella and Uncle Frank in twenty minutes.”

The duo separated, heat rising to their cheeks as they realized just how close they had been for those moments. Harry offered her her bouquet of roses, to which she took gratefully and scurried off to find a vase, uttering a quick, “I’ll be right back.”

In reality, yes she went to find a vase, but Y/N also needed a second to recuperate, inhaling deeply to get her heart to start slowing its rapid pace. Fifty-five years since she’s seen him.

Fifty-five.

It was a lot to comprehend. She was convinced she’d never look at him, hold him, appreciate his existence ever again. One thing is for sure, she never did stop loving him.

Y/N placed her hands down on the counter she placed her roses on, leaning her weight onto her hands as she felt the emotions roll over her like waves crashing on a beach. Her insides felt like mush. She was experiencing the come down after getting off a rowdy rollercoaster, like those she used to go on on Coney Island whenever she visited New York. Electricity shot through her veins as if she had been succumbed to the consequences of the electric chair - yet it wasn’t painful. In fact, she felt alive.

“Mom,” Hannah spoke from behind her, causing her to nearly jump out of her skin. Y/N didn’t realize she had been so lost in her own thoughts for a few moments there. Raising her hand to her chest, she turned around and let out a breath, before smacking her daughter in the shoulder.

“You can’t do that to me, Han. I’m old, I could die from a heart attack.”

“Don’t even joke about something like that,” Hannah rolled her eyes. But quickly the annoyance dissipated as she remembered why she came into the kitchen in the first place. “Are you okay?”

Y/N pursed her lips, giving her a simple shrug. “Yes and no. It’s not easy being reminded of... the love and pain I felt. How did you even find him, anyway?”

Hannah sheepishly smiled, “Aunt Carmella...”

Y/N scoffed, knowing it was exactly like her friend to be secretive about something so monumental like knowing where Harry is and how to contact him. She couldn’t determine if it was a good thing that Carmella kept this information from her, but deep down she knew it was.

As soon as Y/N gathered her wits, the foursome were out the door and on their way to lunch. They had decided to drive two separate cars, and after a bit of begging, Y/N let Harry drive them in his rental. Though, along the way it was a bit of rocky journey. “First time driving on the right side of the road,” was his excuse.

In the car ride, Y/N took the time to truly admire the man she once laid beside at night, trying to wrap her head around the fact that he was next to her again. She wondered if in his old age he would turn wrinkled and decrepit, maybe using a cane or having a hunch back. It only seemed fitting that he beat all of those stereotypes and looked like he had the health of his younger self rather than a seventy-six year old man. He’s timeless; just like their love.

When they finally met up with Carmella, it didn’t take Y/N long to scold her friend for keeping such a humongous secret from her, and working in tandem with her own daughter and granddaughter. All the Italian woman did was shrug before latching her arms around both Harry and Y/N’s frames, pulling the three of them close for a long-awaited, reuniting hug that felt like home.

“Il trio è tornato e meglio che mai. questo merita un brindisi,” [The trio is back and better than ever. This deserves a toast] Carmella cheered, clapping her hands in giddiness as she waved the waitress back over to order the most extravagant wine.

Leaning down to whisper in Y/N’s ear, Harry muttered, “And I still have no idea what she’s saying.” Y/N bumped his shoulder with hers, shaking her head gently as a small smile snuck up onto her lips.

Lunch was shared with many laughs and old stories - all per the request of Ellie. She was eager to keep learning and eager to see her nona so happy.

When lunch was over and they were all saying goodbye, Ellie practically all but pushed Y/N to go with Harry so they could go somewhere private. Hannah of course condoned her daughter’s behavior, but also told her mom it was for the best they catch up without either of them around. They needed to be alone.

That’s how they ended up at the park downtown, where Y/N used to frequent often when she used to run in the mornings or whenever she needed a spark of creativity for her next painting. 

Once Harry placed the car in park, the stagnant tension between them only rose as neither of them jumped to get out of the vehicle. They simmered, absorbed, melted into the atmosphere, basking in it before they flipped it on its head to talk about what they both had been avoiding.

It was an unspoken truce to get out of the car at the same time. The sun was winking at them through the clouds, luring them to venture deeper into the park, just like it used to. Almost as if the star was just as excited as them to be back in each other’s lives. The saying is if walls could talk, but what about the sun? Or the moon? Both kept Harry and Y/N’s moments inside of them, stored deep in their cores right next to all the other love that happened in their line of vision.

Out of instinct, the two locked hands. And they didn’t seem to mind. It felt like a magnet pulled them together, and it would take a lot of force to break them apart.

As they walked along the paved path, being passed by those on bikes or joggers, or really even anyone that walked faster. They weren’t in any sort of rush, because moments like these aren’t meant to be fast paced. They needed to simmer, absorb, and melt.

Harry decided to be the first to speak up, surprising both of them considering, well, his past. “I see the artist life treated you well.”

Slightly turning her head to face him, she laughed softly, shrugging her shoulders. “I guess it did. You predicted it.”

I can’t wait to buy your art one day.

Harry gazed down at his feet, humming a response. He didn’t have the proper words to respond to her allusion to his letter. Hearing the twinge of spite sitting on top of her words was enough for him to gauge that his letter was a sore topic for her. And rightfully so, because even he hasn’t completely forgiven himself for not giving her a proper goodbye.

Coming up on a patch of grass that was half hidden beneath a large oak tree and half in the glory of the sunlight, Harry and Y/N decided to take a seat. If they were going to throw themselves into the past, might as well go all the way and lay in the grass like they did in Florence. Albeit, they wouldn’t actually lay down because it would’ve been impossible for either of them to properly get up.

They rested their backs against the large trunk, looking out into the field and watching little kids play around as their parents kept their distance off to the side with other parents. Y/N found it near impossible to not snap a mental picture of what was in front of her, cursing herself for not bringing her camera with her. It was a beautiful day, and one she wished to remember. Not because of the dreadful conversation that was bound to swallow her whole or the man sitting beside her, but because of the landscape.

What a waste of a beautiful day.

Now, it was her turn to break the silence, because she knew he wouldn’t. He may have once, but that was all he could probably handle. “Tell me about your life, Harry. Please.”

Letting out a breath of air he didn’t realize he had been holding in, Harry twiddled with his thumbs in his lap. “Got two kids. Ben and, uh, Rose.”

Ouch.

“Five beautiful grandchildren.” He spoke shortly and to the point, finding it very difficult to open up the can of worms that is his life.

Once Harry got the call from Carmella that he was going to surprise Y/N for her birthday, he couldn’t get on a plane any faster. The idea of being face-to-face with her again after so many years was daunting and normally he found it difficult to escape his confined box of reality. But that was the thing about Y/N, she always made things seem less terrible to him.

England is his origin and where his family resides, but it hardly felt like home anymore.

His marriage with Nancy balanced on its very thin, tight rope for thirty years, but they both knew it was bound to fall off. Once he returned from Italy, it was like he was a soldier returning from war, because he in no way was the same man who left for Italy when coming home. But, they pushed on, because it was what they were meant to do.

They had two wonderful kids and they seemed like the picturesque family they were planned to be. Behind closed doors, they were anything but. He and Nancy fought a lot and their kids seemed to loathe him for reasons still unbeknownst to him. He supported them and loved them like any parent would, yet it felt like they joined everyone else in his life that wanted to keep him silent. Everyone except one person.

Once his and Nancy’s divorce was finalized, the kids couldn’t be more thrilled. All they needed was a solid reason to drop their father out of their lives. As the years went on they slowly worked him back into their day-to-day routine, but not really. Only for the sake of his grandkids was he in their lives.

It was especially hard living his life knowing his own creations couldn’t stand him just like everyone else, and that was exactly why he couldn’t agree faster to get on a plane to America.

“I officially retired last year, so m’not really doing much these days. Actually, I picked up drawing again if y’could believe it. Haven’t touched a pencil for artistic purposes since... well, since then.” Their heads remained forward, not a single glance made towards one another because it felt easier this way. 

Y/N listened intently to the drawl of his voice, engraving the words he spoke deep into her mind, right next to the dusty ones he spoke fifty-five years prior. Everything and anything he’s ever said rests idly on little bookshelves in her brain, collecting dust the longer she takes to go back and hear them over. It was nice to add new additions to her collection. “That sounds lovely, H.”

His heartstrings pulled at the use of his nickname, something only she would call him. He was only Harry to any one, both by his choice and because every one else was too prim to call him something else.

Y/N took notice to how he mentioned nothing of Nancy, and paired that with the fact he wasn’t wearing a wedding band on his most intimate finger. She thinks maybe he did it out of courtesy to not beckon any unwarranted anguish and pain for her sake - because that’s exactly why she didn’t wear hers.

When she went to put her flowers in a vase in the kitchen, she slid her engagement and wedding rings off her finger and set them down gently on the counter, not wanting to clash her two separate lives.

That’s why she had to ask about her. She couldn’t keep going if she didn’t have any sort of answer to her wondering questions that she’s had for the past five decades. “How’s Nancy?” Y/N didn’t care to actually know how she is, she just wanted to know their story.

The leaves above them blew in the suddenly apparent wind, threatening them that what they were about to indulge in was like a storm on the horizon. It was bound to come and impossible to avoid. “Dunno. Haven’t spoken to her in a couple of weeks.”

This opened the door to many unanswered questions in Y/N’s mind, sending her down on spiral of want and need for an explanation that he didn’t seem keen on giving. This closed the most important door, flooding her with relief she didn’t realize she needed to feel just a little less pain sitting next to him.

Not knowing just how to pose her next question, Harry beat her to the punch, halting her thoughts in her tracks. “We’re divorced.”

Divorced. A strange concept. Y/N never imagined divorcing her husband in all of the years they were married. It seemed trivial and time-consuming and led to no greater purpose in her mind. She could either be miserably alone, or miserable with a man by her side. The latter seemed the most comforting.

“I’m sorry to hear that.”

“I’m not. We weren’t meant to be,” he chuckled, laughing not because it’s actually funny, but because Y/N knew they weren’t meant to be. It was obvious. “Just meaningless pieces in my parents puzzle.”

Hearing his broken words that he used to rant about all those years ago resurface, Y/N couldn’t help reaching for his hand again, clasping it between both of hers and holding it in her lap. It didn’t matter how many years had passed, because it was certain his parents were still a sore subject. She wanted him to know that she never forgot the hurt they put him through, and that she will always be on his side. Always.

Diverting the attention away from himself, it was Harry’s turn to pour salt into a wound he knew would sting harshly. “Did you uh, ever get married, Rose?”

When Carmella had managed to get his number a couple years after Italy, they kept in contact nearly every week. A lot of the time their topic of conversation would revolve around Y/N, and what ever new information Carmella could relay. One thing he refused to know however, was if she ever got married. He didn’t need to know, nor did he want to. But now, he supposes he does. 

“I did. He passed in February.” The 1st. Coincidental, maybe ironic. “He was a good man.”

Silence. It was nice Y/N was able to settle herself with someone deemed to be good. It’s what she deserved. But Harry didn’t want to know anymore.

Silence. They kept their heads forward, but over time Y/N’s head slowly ended up resting on Harry’s shoulder. Their hands stayed latched and their bodies radiated each other’s warmth. Y/N felt cold though. Rehashing their pasts slowly brought them closure, but it in no way healed the pain that rested heavy on her heart. “I wish things could’ve been different for us, Harry.” They deserved different than what they were given. Why do soulmates exist if they can’t be together? 

A love like theirs is folklore; unsure if it ever existed, but meant to be told for generations. “We were special don’t you think?”

“We were everything,” Harry murmured, squeezing her hands, then planting a gentle kiss to the crown of her head.

Y/N laughed again at his allusion, but she wasn’t laughing because it was funny, but because it stung like a wasp. Over and over again. “I’ve still got that stupid piece of paper, y’know. Your letter. Saved it all these years because it was all I had.”

The little anger she had left inside of her began to bubble up. Though it didn’t last very long as tears welled in her eyes, just like when she picked up the stupid paper for the first time. Grief stampeded her stomach like a herd of frightened elephants, bruising her deeply as the pain she felt from that day made itself known in the present.

“You didn’t say goodbye. Why didn’t you say goodbye?”

The wind picked up as the clouds in the sky completely covered the sun in forecast, hovering over Harry as a reminder, just in case he didn’t already know the pain he caused.

Pulling Y/N close to his chest, he let her cry, knowing it was best to not say anything at all. She wasn’t legitimately asking why he didn’t, but it felt good to get the question off her chest. So he let her cry, his own tears pricking his waterline, balancing on the edge before tumbling over and down onto his cheeks.

Just when the sun began to come out from its hiding spot, the two subsided their emotions, calming down just like the leaves above their heads. The storm had passed. All that’s left now is the aftermath.

“We don’t get forever, Rose. But we have each other now.”

Something tells them though that despite how many physical years they may have left with one another, they’ll always have forever. The thought rests easy on their minds.

With just a few more minutes of sitting in the grass and simmering, absorbing, melting, the duo decided it was time to get up. They were going to put the past behind them, starting with the fact that maybe they were too old to be sitting in the grass like they used to.

Laughs and giggles were exchanged as they both tried to get to their feet as gracefully as possible without drawing any attention to themselves. They were a heap of giggles and optimism as they retraced their steps back onto the pathway, heading back to his car.

It almost seemed like déjà vu the moment a speedy bicyclist zoomed past Y/N, nearly grazing her left side. She moved out of his way just in the nick of time, but haphazardly fell into Harry’s arms, who always seemed ready to catch her even in the most abrupt of times.

It all happened so fast yet also so slow, running parallel to the moment this exact occurrence happened fifty-five years ago. Their whole day ran parallel to their pasts, so it was only inevitable that that same electricity sparked through their bodies again.

They gazed into each other’s eyes the moment her body felt safe, that same magnet pulling them close enough that their mouths were only a few inches apart. Not a single word was exchanged as their breaths mingled together and their fingers gripped each other forcefully.

Remembering when she told Ellie about their first electric moment, Ellie immediately questioned if the two of them had kissed because it seemed like the perfect moment. Disappointingly, they didn’t.

She would hate to disappoint her granddaughter again.

So, this time they did.

It was the perfect moment, after all.

[norcumii]

TW: abuse, suicide, depression, fandom wank, purity culture

There’s a post floating around this corner of fandom recently, by someone claiming to be fifteen:

if ur like at or over the age of 30 and u invest time into fandom spaces and shipping please touch a blade of grass. pay ur taxes or something. log off

Now, I’m not reblogging their post with this commentary because I’ve blocked them and that seems unfair and unkind, but also because they’re fifteen, and if that doesn’t entitle one to have ridiculous opinions on the internet, what does?

But I do have some words I need to say.

I was over thirty when I fell into the Clone Wars fandom. I used to have been in Star Wars – I gave it up during the Prequels era (when they were in the theaters and everything), because it didn’t hold my interest. Looking back, it’s because I didn’t have access to the information that Wookieepedia provides, and the insights provided by experience and life – and thus understanding of politics and humanity in general.

And that’s ok. I still have very fond memories of my older-than-thirty parents letting me stay up late to watch the OT, and even fonder memories of my grandmother enjoying sitting down with me and VHS tapes of Return of the Jedi – her favorite of the trilogy.

I fell back into the fandom in 2014 – after the Clone Wars series ended. I was over thirty. I was suicidal. I was stuck in an abusive relationship. I woke up each morning sleep deprived and regretting I had to face yet another day.

I was just killing time because I wasn’t brave enough to kill myself – and the attempts I did make proved I wasn’t very good at that, either.

But in the process of just marking time, I read fic because I had just enough energy to be able to immerse myself in stories that had roots in movies and shows I used to like. I could find some smidge of enjoyment in further, non-canonical adventures, and ANY smidge of enjoyment those days was a gods-damned miracle.

I got on tumblr. I found other fandom people. One of them recommended The Clone Wars if I wanted to watch something, and hey, it was on Netflix.

I cried within five minutes of starting the first episode. The voice acting, the sounds – this was a fragment of my childhood I hadn’t realized I had missed. It reminded me of my dead grandmother, some of the good times with my family that by then, lived far away – and seemed even further away from the daily hell I called a life.

I fell in love with the clones: the potential, the romance and the tragedy of it all. Then slowly, so slowly I didn’t realize it was happening, a thought began to settle into my head.

I loved these characters, these clones who had nothing, who were stuck in a terrible situation with no escape, and I felt both fondness and outrage at their circumstances. I wanted better for them. I wanted them to have good lives, good opportunities, a chance to escape to become whatever they might want to be.

And maybe....

If I could care about that many imaginary people....

If I could look at these folks who didn’t exist and say “this isn’t fair, this isn’t right, you matter”–

Maybe –

Maybe I might matter too. Maybe I might deserve better. Oh, there was no question in my mind that they were far better beings than I ever might be, but there were too many parallels, of being trapped by a supposed benevolent dictator who was actually a manipulator draining everything from them – I wasn’t as, would never be as deserving, but....

I could make these absolutist statements about the clones. The Jedi. Hell, even the corrupt Republic deserved better than what Sidious wrought.

What made me so much worse that I might deserve what my abuser put me through?

Then I cautiously started asking these questions of myself, and asking other questions of those around me – fandom people, since my abuser kept me far too busy to make friends in brick space. These fandom people who were certainly above the twenty year mark, and more than a few who were also above thirty. They reassured me of various points of reality: no, what I was experiencing wasn’t normal; no, folks in relationships don’t argue like that. They could rec fic to me, stories with relationships like mine that were tagged “abuse” so I could recognize it, so I could read it and go “oh, that’s what a more normal person would do.”

I could cry about my circumstances and not feel like a useless, whiny little bitch who just needed to be better, who should be perfect all the time, who needed to be there for her guy because that’s what people do when they care.

I could look at that last sentence, and go “wait. People who care about their partners don’t demand that of them, especially not when it is literally killing them.” If I imagined any person treating the clones the way my abuser treated me, the sheer outrage was off the charts.

Star Wars – Star Wars fandom – quite literally saved my life.

While I was in my thirties.

Those fans, those friends, and the communal appreciation for the clones and all the rest of the mess that is Star Wars were reasons to live when I have tried giving up on everything else.

So yeah, I’m not gonna dogpile on some kid who thinks that after thirty you’re not allowed any good or fun things in life. But I do need to say “thank you” to you – all of you, those reading this who have any participation in fandom.

You’re lifesavers.

Thank you.

Thank you, and please, keep enjoying fandom for as long as you want. We all have different reasons we’re here, but we all have a right to live, to exist, and be happy.

[eveenstar]

𝒯𝒽𝑒 𝒲����𝓎 𝑜𝒻 𝒯𝒾𝓂𝑒

𝙰 𝚁𝚎𝚍 𝙳𝚎𝚊𝚍 𝚁𝚎𝚍𝚎𝚖𝚙𝚝𝚒𝚘𝚗 𝟸 𝙵𝚊𝚗𝚏𝚒𝚌𝚝𝚒𝚘𝚗

ᴄʜᴀᴘᴛᴇʀ ɪɪɪ

Summary: After the meeting with Dutch, (Y/N) the time-traveler, decides to take a look around the camp while trying to convince herself this was not a dream but reality.

Tags/Warnings: Nothing to add.

Note: Back again from the dead with another chapter! Hope you enjoy!

Well, this was awkward. You couldn't hope to be in a worst situation than this (well, you kinda could) but hey, at least they seem to believe you, right? What else to think when somebody drops out of the sky in the middle of your "home"?

“Well, Miss (L/N), from what you told me and the gang…You’re my great-granddaughter?” Dutch asked, his hands grabbing one of his books while he took a seat on his bed.

“Yes, sir.” The girl stood awkwardly on the tent’s entrance. She didn’t know what else to do, what, hug him? She didn't even know he existed before that old, strange lady appeared in her life. For her, Dutch was nothing but a stranger and maybe he thinks the same of her.

“It’s…nice to meet you. A very interesting experience.” He sounded almost content with it, but also a bit shocked by his voice. “I hope your life is better than, you see, ours.”

The girl let out a nervous laugh. Almost immediately covering her mouth after it. “I’m actually being hunted down by the government. Me and my group, we…did some things they didn’t agree with.”

“Oh. I see. A revolutionist?” Dutch looked at her, his gaze made her feel a bit intimidated.

“Yeah, I guess that’s one way to call it.” How would she describe what a hacker was or the modern technology? Well, (Y/N) did take parts in a few riots so perhaps revolutionist was a appropriate term to call it on the 1800s. But she wasn’t so sure about that. The life she left behind, James and the others, everything she knew was...well, not dead, but non-existing now.

“Don’t be so nervous, Miss.” The man said in a gentle tune. “I promise you, none of us will bring you any harm.” He stood up, slowly caressing her arm.

“Thanks.” She returned a kind smile, but was it the truth?

I wanted to go back that exact time, I didn't want to be there anymore. From all the movies and tvshows I'd seen, messing with the past doesn't go well, never. So who was I to tempt fate?

"I have a few more questions for you, but you need to rest. Must've been hard getting here." Dutch guided you outside and handed you some stuff, probably to make your own tent. You really hoped there weren't many bugs out here. "I'll let you get settled first."

You nodded, before taking a few hesitant steps towards the "light" (or, in this case, a fellow tree a bit distant from the others). You didn't want to bother anyone, so you began making your little forth underneath a tree and next to a few rocks. But, not that you haven't gone camping before, but this was harder than it looked. It's like your own house was fighting against you. Things kept falling or getting in the way, and nothing was going according to plan. A frustrated sigh escaped your lips.

"Need some help?"

You flinched at the voice and turned around to meet eyes with, by your memory, Javier Escuella. He was taller in person. That's all you had to say, for now. He had a soft yet deep gaze on his eyes, but if we're being honest, he looked threatening. He raised an curious eyebrow by how long you were taking to answer his simple question. You nodded, then chuckled nervously and waved around the "tent" you were building.

"I'm having a bit of trouble here."

With a better set of hands, your little fort was finished in just two hours. This felt different, y'know? Surreal to say the least. Few birds were singing, the horses in the background, the wind blowing through you, the nature, the sounds of people talking, a life you've never known. Not like this. It was kinda similiar to the life you and your friends had, the only difference being: You didn't held camps in the wild. Like Dutch, you were the leader of your group, and James was your right hand. Maybe you did resemble him a bit, just maybe. Now you were here, talking and interacting with people that in your time, were long gone. You were changing history, the past, everything. Was this the right choice?

"Are you okay?"

"Sì," You immediately looked at him, "Sorry, kinda drifted off a bit."

Javier stared at you in confusion, "Drifted?"

"Oh, yeah, sorry hah. I got lost in thought."

For your delight, Javier laughed at it before excusing himself and leaving you there to your own miserable mind. Your bed felt heavy and rocky, but it's better than nothing. You had no idea what to do now, should you go meet the others? Well, they certainly thing you're strange. Mary-Beth seemed to like you, and she could become your first friend here! Keep the hopes up, (Y/N), you're definitely gonna need it here.

"Ahem, hey Mary!"

"(Y/N)! How was the meeting with Dutch?" She paused her book and glanced over to you, while patting her hand next to her. "Come, sit!"

"It was alright," You replied almost robotically. Your mind was empty to any functional thoughts.

"This is like a fantasy book. You came from the future to change the past, and met a long lost relative." Mary-Beth almost had stars in her eyes while thinking about the "amazing" story of yours. For as amazing as it sounds, it really wasn't something that cool once you experienced it. You felt out of place. "Tell me, how is the future?"

Your mind ran through all the memories you have, every information, every place, every moment now lost in time.

"It's...harsh, unfair and cruel. Like it always has been, I suppose."

"It can't be that bad, surely." For as much as the media likes to portray the modern age as a fairy tale, it's more of a terror genre. You remember the cruel things people had told you over the years, how your dreams were not realistic enough, "become a doctor!" everybody said.

"They don't care about us. They don't care for people like you and me."  Jamie told me once. I wonder how he is now. I miss everybody, especially those late nights when we used to sing our hearts out and dance as if there was no tomorrow. It's too late now.

You gave her a small smile, "Not always."

She returned the smile, happily.

"So what's wrong with you, you old fool?"

A tall, bearded man drunkly limped towards someone older, Hosea Matthews, and spoke in a way that the older man didn't seem to like one bit. Hosea didn't even spare him a glance,"Go sleep it off, you drunken baffoon."

Bill Williamson, as you know remembered correctly now, stepped closer to Hosea and stared at him, almost as if he was daring him to repeat it again, "Excuse me?"

Like the winds change the tides, Hosea got up in a swift movement and pointed his gun at Bill, who fell to his feet. "I've excused you quite enough! Go sleep it off, is that clear?"

Bill hurriedly got back on his feet and stepped back, hands in the air with, what you could call, a frightened look on his face (which changed to angry after a few seconds).

"Okay!...Okay."

The few people that were present either got back to whatever they were doing or didn't even mind the occurence in the first place, like it was something normal to happen around here. You excused yourself and made your way to Hosea, who was sitting on a wooden table. You wondered where they got all this stuff, including the tables. Did they make them? Steal them? You rolled your eyes at the thought of the gang going to a local bar and stealing all of their tables.

"Uh, hello!" You greeted and took a seat in front of him. "I don't think we've been properly introduced, I'm...Well, you probably alright know who I am." You chuckled.

"Hosea Matthews, " He looked at you with a serene look on his eyes. He reminded you of those elderly folks you'd meet around town who were incredibly nice for their own good. "Have you been handling this alright? I know how this gang can be sometimes."

"I haven't had the chance to meet everybody yet, just Dutch, Mary-Beth, Javier and you, sir."

"Well, all in due time. You can come to me if you need anythin' else."

"Thank you, I'll make sure to remember it."

Hosea was like a father to me, or for most people in the gang. Wish I'd met someone like him before. He was a good man. I remember, when I first met him, that I thought he'd ask me plenty of questions about the future. To my surprise, he didn't. I think he wanted me to have some space, process everything that's happened so far. I miss him the most. Apart from Arthur, and Dutch. Who lost his way.

When I arrived, I had to make up my mind. I had to compose myself because this was about to be my new life, "for now" , I thought. I was ready to face this reality of time-traveling and the way things worked in that era. I was foolish. So, so foolish.

[bard-llama]

Hello again! May I request Rorveth for the ship game again? Maybe prerelationship 2, General 1, 5, Love 2, Domestic 9? Have a good day

Always! Rorveth owns my heart and I can always talk about them lol.

Pre-Relationship #2: What was their first impression of each other?

Hmm. I mean, there was definitely some hate, lbr. But I think there was also a lot of admiration? Well, I guess it depends on what we count as first impression. When they first learn of each other or when they first meet?

Because Roche found Iorveth long before Iorveth knew he existed. Roche had a crush worked intelligence, analyzing data and putting together who their targets in the Scoia'tael were. So I think he and Thaler and other intel folks would have come up with code names for each unit commander that they knew of (probably something lame too), but as we see in the game - the Scoia'tael are PROUD of their commander. They cheer Iorveth's name as they go into battle. It would not take many confrontations to start to put names to positions. So Roche's first impression of Iorveth would be one of someone recognizing a skilled opponent. But it would also be heavily countered by the details of what exactly Iorveth is using those skills for. Because they probably have an office somewhere in the Temerian royal palace that's full of pictures stuck to bulletin boards and string connecting them lol. So he'd have front and center in his mind exactly how brutal Iorveth can be.

So when they meet, I think Roche expects to appreciate Iorveth's ability, but hate him as a person. But then Iorveth introduces himself playing the fucking recorder flute!? Like, that had maybe been shared in intel, but it was the kind of meaningless detail that Roche had never really paid attention to. Which was a mistake, as it turns out, because Iorveth is every bit as much a musician as he is a soldier. But Roche only learns that later.

On Iorveth's side... well, he'd first hear of Roche when Roche and the Stripes, on their first day, slaughtered an entire unit of Scoia'tael. So I think Iorveth's first impression would be fury and hate, but also, as time goes on and it turns out that wasn't just a fluke, he'd come to respect Roche as an enemy commander. Then they meet and Roche is so full of hate for killing his king and Iorveth wasn't expecting that to hurt, but it really actually does. And he tries to shove it down and ignore it, but the feeling lingers long enough that he ends up seeking Roche out post-W2.

General #1: Who initiated the relationship, and how did it go?

Following the thread above... I think Iorveth did, but semi on accident. So he goes searching for Roche after Saskia has established Vergen and doesn't need him quite so much and this longing just won't stop nagging him. So he seeks Roche out and basically manages to say something along the lines of "I can't stop thinking about you and I'm going to make it your problem". Then he proceeds to follow Roche around and criticize his attempts at guerilla warfare as the Temerian partisans kicked off. Roche finds this absolutely baffling, but like, Iorveth is more experienced with this sort of thing, so why not take his advice? After arguing about it extensively, of course. Ves thinks this is all a Scoia'tael trap and keeps a very close eye on Iorveth. So close, in fact, that she notices the way that Iorveth looks at Roche over the campfire in the evenings. And once she notices that, suddenly the signs that Iorveth adores her Boss are everywhere. And she doesn't really know what to think about that or whether to tell Roche.

Not sure what she decides, but she definitely threatens Iorveth. And actually, I could see that being the first step in them coming to like, actually respect one another beyond "wow, you can kill a guy pretty efficiently". Like, maybe Iorveth begs asks as nicely as he can that Ves not tell Roche, because he's certain that it would only ruin things. And yeah, the longing is still there, but it's not so bad now that he has Roche in his life at all. He is grateful for as much of Roche as he can get.

i think Ves would be perfectly fine with that at first, but as she grows to appreciate Iorveth more as a person, she starts to feel bad. Because like, he very clearly loves Roche. And yeah, he probably has complicated feelings about loving a human, but like...he so clearly does and it's kind of pathetic but in a way that tugs at her heart and she HATES feeling sympathy for an elf, but...

I don't think she tells Roche directly. But she basically tells him that Iorveth is always staring at him and he should ask why. (Roche: because we're enemies, duh??? He's watching to see if I make a move to shank him, isn't he?)

General #5: What’s their height difference? Age difference?

Oh man, okay, this one is fun to play with. So, Roche is shorter than everyone most people and he is resentful about it. That whole thing about shorter people being closer to hell? Yeah, he is that 100%.

Iorveth, of course, enjoys very much that he is taller and will 100% grab Roche's paperwork or something and hold it out of reach just to enjoy Roche attempting to climb him to annoy Roche.

For age difference, I hc Roche as late 40s and Iorveth as around 1300, so it's a pretty big difference lol. I go back and forth on what elves think of such age differences, 'cause like... 40 is the age of majority for elves, so I could see them pointing at tired and wrinkled Roche and going, "that is a baby!"

But also, realistically, if they live so long (which they don't in canon, oops), i think they'd be a little more blase about age differences, as long as they're over the age of majority for their culture. Especially considering that they lost basically an entire generation of elves with Ailerinn's failed uprising + other pogroms like the cleansing of Loc Muinne, so like, the only elves left are either really old (pre-Conjunction) or really pretty young (200-300yo max, I think). So even if they don't already not care that much about age differences, I think they'd have to learn to, because there's not a lotta other options left.

(Not to derail, but Isengrim being torn up over being so much older than Eldain could be really, really fun, so I might ignore this lmao)

Love #2: What are their primary love languages?

Ooooh, Roche's is definitely touch! Just soft, casual touches, like a hand on the back or the shoulder, or just brushing their arms against each other or knocking their shoulders together to show that he's here. I think his receiving language might be more words of affirmation than touch, though. But that could be due to trauma/the fact that everyone in court does one thing and says another. So like, Foltest will clap him on the shoulder and then also go send him to torture someone. But then he'll also say 'good job' when Roche gets the intel they needed. So he has... kind of a fucked up relationship with both ideas, honestly.

Okay, I couldn't remember all 5 love languages, so I looked them up and fuck, Roche is very much acts of service, too. But in a self-sacrificing way.

Iorveth... hmm. I could see maybe receiving gifts just because it was such a rare and exciting thing when he was young. But along the same veins, I think quality time would mean a lot to him, because his family never made time for him. He always felt like he was in the way/bothering them while they're busy and hasn't fully yet come to understand that they should have made the time for him. So when Roche does things like call off work for the day to do something with Iorveth? Iorveth absolutely melts. I don't think he previously understood that time together could be precious, not because it's limited, but because it is special.

Domestic #9: Who’s more likely to convince the other to come back to sleep in the morning?

Iorveth is a night owl. And very much NOT a morning person. Roche is also not a morning person, but he doesn't even get the exchange of being a night person, he's just eternally Tired. So I think Roche tries to encourage Iorveth to come to bed during the night, but is rarely successful, because Iorveth feels inspired. Fortuntely, Roche has ear plugs/enjoys music when he sleeps.

But when one of them gets really fixated on their work and loses track of the time? It's almost always Roche obsessing over some ig or small problem, and Iorveth will try to get him to come to bed, but usually he has to resort to physically sitting in Roche's lap/getting between Roche and the fixation. But once he's gotten Roche distracted, he can get some nice cuddles and/or sex out of it and Roche falls asleep afterwards.

But when they wake up in the morning and need to get up and go to work? It's always Iorveth who tries to persuade Roche that if he can't get 30 mins more sleep, then he could at least offer some morning sex.

[samwontshare]

Black Widow Review I guess

Was Black Widow the send off movie for Nat that I wanted to see after Avengers 1 first dropped? No.

Did I really enjoy it anyway (with some criticisms)? Yes.

Here’s what worked and what didn’t work for me.

What worked for me:

-Yelena and Nat’s relationship carried this entire movie. It was start to finish a truly beautiful sister movie. Their relationship is so genuine and they have such a great connection on screen. The bickering! The older/little sibling dynamic is so powerful in this movie. Yelena’s need for Nat in her life, and Nat who suffered so much trying to just escape but her younger sibling was left behind. This was so painful and real for me as a survivor of childhood domestic violence - where my older sibling would often leave to protect himself, but then I was left behind to survive. It took me a long time to have empathy for him and his very real need to protect himself. Because we both were just trying to survive and it wasn’t our fault. I saw myself in Yelena and my brother in Nat’s decision to leave the Red Room. For them to come together to take down the Red Room together is just some beautiful, cathartic shit.

-Yelena. Every. Single. Thing. About. Yelena. The acting was just stunning - that Yelena has this childlike quality to her because for the first time, she can be a human being. She has beautiful character moments: fogging the glass, playing with her beer bottle, her enthusiasm for the vest with pockets she purchased AND modified thank you very much. Do I feel they dulled her trauma to keep the levity? Yes, but she still has some stunning moments of vulnerability - especially when she took her fake family to task and called out Nat for saying it wasn’t real. This was just *chef kiss* THE HEAD TOUCHES OMG.

-The found family dynamic. I think some folks might baulk at the forgiveness shown to the parental figures, but for me this rings true as someone again who experienced childhood violence. What’s often hard is that you feel such justified anger toward those who hurt you and didn’t protect you, but for many people (though not all) there is still a need to be loved by those people and you might still love them despite everything because there were good moments in all the horror. What I think actually made this work is that Melina and Alexei both took steps to correct their ways - they immediately helped the sisters. It spoke a bit on generational trauma - particularly re: Melina. Was it perfect? No. Do I think it will work for everyone? No. But I didn’t mind it. Damaged people trying to do better is my jam. And I was just happy Melina lived.

-The opening credits is one of the best things Marvel has ever done. Chilling.

-The humor. This shit was funny.

-The way it centered Yelena and Nat, women supporting women, and said fuck off to the male Avengers.

-This is unpopular but I was fine with Taskmaster. I remember Taskmaster from the Deadpool comics so I get why people are mad, but to me it threaded a nice loop in Nat’s story. Nat’s desperation to leave the Red Room and end her violence meant killing an innocent child - was it heroic? No. Was it human? Yes. Taking the time to make some amends there felt like nice closure, even if Antonia falls into one of my biggest issues with the film (see below).

-I’m glad Dreykov was an unexplained Bond villain with his ridiculous sky lair that everyone should have known about after NYC. Dreykov was symbolic for every shitty male abuser that’s plagued women. It ain’t about him. It’s about what he represented.

What didn’t work for me:

-How WOC showed up in the movie felt super uncomfortable. We see a Widow of color starting the movement to free the others, but she’s quickly dispatched and the job is taken over by two white women. There is a really horrifying scene where another WOC is forced by a white man to kill herself to further Nat’s horror about the situation. The only time in this movie WOC are on screen it’s to 1) die and 2) literally be brainwashed into servitude. There’s no agency for WOC in this movie and it sucks A LOT.

-That sort of plays into my other big problem with the plot and that was the whole brainwashing storyline. It fell really flat for me and I’ve been trying to figure out why. The movie started out really strong with the absolutely horrifying story of Nat and Yelena’s childhood and the opening credits that pull no punches about human trafficking and the literal child torture that takes place in the Red Room.

But the MCU once again proves it’s not ready to tackle deeper issues in their totality - they have to walk it back so it’s still the quippy, action oriented formula that makes every one a blockbuster. So instead of a story about the horrors of the Red Room and psychological conditioning of young trafficked girls into trained killers - and more importantly how those women still maintain their agency despite this, how they are survivors and how they break the chains of the Red Room to take their power back (a story much more grounded in real abuses), they put a sci-fi veneer over it.

Suddenly they’re trained assassins who are brainwashed into being trained assassins…? As if the horrors of the Red Room aren’t enough without the total removal of agency (and it’s handled with so much less grace than say Bucky Barnes’ experience, who breaks his own conditioning). The Widows spend the entire movie as nameless victims waiting for rescue and get absolutely no scenes of agency even when they’re freed.

To me, it undermined the whole trafficking commentary. They remained nameless. They remained victims. They remained waiting for rescue. But at least they’re not forgotten? Yeesh. It flattens the experience of real trafficked people and their resiliency. I think there was a way to both honor survivors and honor those who didn't survive and the movie didn't get that balance.

-I think a lot of other people have already pointed out that this movie feels like Black Widow 2 and we’re missing parts 1 and 3. Telling this story now is a let down. That Black Widow’s only movie is about passing the torch after she’s already dead is a disappointment (and that’s not a criticism of Yelena - who is pure gold in this movie). I left the movie still feeling like Nat herself was hollow, that she didn’t get the earnestness of Yelena’s character. She had an endearing moment of watching spy movies and a beautiful childhood opening and then she gets lost in her own movie bouncing from one fight to another. It was sad as hell. I wanted this to be about her time in the Red Room, her escape from the Red Room, her experiencing what it means to have freedom to decide.

-They really ruined that beautiful moment of Yelena mourning Nat with Val showing up. Look I don’t care if it would’ve been predictable, that movie would have hit harder if Nat whistled back. They didn’t even have to show her. It could have just ended that way.

Overall, I enjoyed it as a movie. I don’t know that I enjoyed it as Black Widow’s ONLY movie.

[yukiwrites]

Behavior, Making the Difference

Thank you for the support as always, @xpegasusuniverse! This one was so fun to write, I hope you like it! I love exploring all of these different interactions!

Summary: Ricken, Lysithea and Hayato banded together due to their similar circumstances in their home world. They were now good classmates, who shared the same woes even in another world like Askr: why are they being looked down on, just because they were young?

Commission info HERE and HERE!

__________________________

The amount of Heroes being summoned in Askr grew day by day. The castle alloted to house the Order of Heroes had enough space for them all, yes, but there were some areas that a few groups of like-minded Heroes claimed for themselves.

For example, the western training grounds was now CHOP’s exclusive meeting spot. The eastern forest? Home to Heroes who would rather stay away from people to focus on calming their raging power. There was also a meadow past the southern garden, almost touching the outer wall, where the dragon-shifters liked to gather.

In the same manner, the central library was used as a classroom and gathering spot for the mages. It was big enough that classes could be taken on the second floor while others could quietly do their personal research on the first floor without one being a disturbance to the other.

Every other day, more experienced mages ministered classes on the second floor in favor of the apprentice mages. Merric’s was a particularly popular class due to how Young Merric also participated and asked many questions to his older self, which would extend the lecture for hours upon hours.

After class had finally ended, many of the students had stiff necks and sore legs for sitting up for so long. Be that as it may, one of the most eager students, Ricken, observed how Merric and his younger version interacted. On top of that, he noticed how younger Merric received different treatment whenever he went despite being the very same person who was just at the helm of the class.

Sure, the years of experience made a whole lot of difference, but younger Merric was in no way lacking in comparison to any other mage!

“Maybe it’s just ‘cause Merric’s tall.” Ricken grumbled to his deskmates, Lysithea and Hayato, as he looked up to his intentionally large hat.

Lysithea revised her notes calmly, resting her head on one hand. “At this point in time, young Merric has much more experience than Professor Merric had when he was that age. He’ll grow into a much stronger mage if he keeps up with this hunger for knowledge.”

Hayato nodded beside Lysithea, yawning loudly while he stretched his stiff muscles. “I do not know if it was due to the special summoning or if something different happened in his home world, but this young Merric has outstanding innate magical energy. It’s even larger than Professor Merric’s.”

“See? That’s what I’m saying. He’s much stronger than a lot of the adults, but he’s still treated like he’s not that capable because he’s young. They’re treating him like a little kid in favor of his older self!” Ricken protested with puffy cheeks.

“I do understand the hierarchy that comes with the territory of being a mage, so it’s not like I agree completely with you,” Lysithea pinched in, lifting her gaze to the red-haired young boy, “but I don’t disagree completely, either. They could treat him with the deserved respect of someone who holds that much power.”

“Though the man himself doesn’t seem to mind, unfortunately.” Hayato sat back down after cracking his neck a few times. “He sucks it all up, as though he himself feels unworthy of respect.”

“I suppose seeing how much you’ve grown can do that to people,” Lysithea mused, then mumbled so only herself could hear, “I’d be jealous if I wasn’t in such a hurry.”

Ricken’s cheeks only inflated more and more. Seeing people just like him, full of potential and stacking on accomplishments, being treated as less than they deserved made his blood boil. It reminded him of the constant ‘are-you-alright’s and ‘someone-your-age-should-rest-now’s he received on a daily basis.

“He shouldn’t be treated that way!” Ricken exclaimed, raising both fists up. “It’s the same everywhere! Back home, Chrom and everybody else treated me like a little, helpless kid and never saw how much I could do.”

Hayato crossed his arms, bobbing his head to the sides. “Just blow something in their vicinity; that will shut them up.”

“But I don’t want them to fear me! I want them to respect me! Besides, that’d probably just make them tell me I’m still too reckless for the battlefield.” Ricken’s shoulders dropped as he saw the exact scene being played in his mind, word by word.

“... Ah, you’re part of a specialized task force, right?” Hayato momentarily forgot that although the other two shared the same amount of potential and suffered from being berated by their ages, they weren’t the heirs of their tribes. He could get away with a lot of stuff because the heir was usually the strongest one, but that wasn’t the case with Ricken, who was simply one soldier amidst many.

Ricken sat back down, deflated. “Yeah, and there’s this other boy who got in after I did but no one treats him like they treat me! He’s only older than me by a few months, but everyone already sees him as a man and they never hold him back on doing stuff.”

Lysithea immediately remembered Petra, the princess of another country who studied with her under Byleth. They were both the SAME age, but no one treated Petra like a little kid. “... Is it the height?” She mumbled, though both of them heard it loud and clear.

… Oh.

It was the height.

Ricken took off his hat, then glanced up as though to remember how tall Donnel was compared to him.

… After a moment, he realized Donny was at least a head taller than himself.

“This is ridiculous!” However, Hayato was the one who slammed the table. He, too, was conscious of his height. “Bring it on, I’ll zap him with my magic and we’ll see-”

“Wait, wait, wait! I don’t wanna hurt my allies!” Ricken pulled on Hayato’s sleeve. “Besides, he’s not a mage, he’s- uh, I don’t know what he does exactly, but he’s a villager. Everyone trains with him and gives him tips and puts him on the frontlines without question… It’s unfair! I can hold my own, too!”

“That does seem like special treatment,” Lysithea nodded. “It’s unfair, but that only means that you have to overwhelm everyone with your effort. Study a lot and show them how good you can be to shut them all up.”

“Yeah... It’s my dream to be able to fight side-by-side with Chrom, but it’s not something for the far future. I can do it NOW, but they just don’t acknowledge me! It’s driving me nuts.”

Before the other two could reply, the sound of steps going up the stairs to the second floor interrupted them, which was unusual. It was an unspoken rule to use sound-muffling magic while walking around the library; not to mention that the second floor was commonly used for classes, so there shouldn’t be anyone going up at that moment, as the next class would only happen after dinner.

“C’monnn, up we go, Donny!” A familiar, peppy voice echoed. Soon, the blonde pigtails could be seen before the princess’ body: It was Lissa, Chrom’s sister and princess of Ylisse.

“W-wait, wait, Miss Lissa! I reckon we shouldn’ta be ‘ere now! Aren’t them egghead folks studyin’?” Being pulled by Lissa, Donnel held the pot on his head to hide his face, whispering in an attempt to be quiet.

“Nope, class was over a while ago, so now it’s Professor Lissa time! Take your seat, Donny, and let your big sister here teach you stuff!” She pulled out a monocle from her sleeve and a presentation stick from the other, pointing at the blank blackboard. “Now, todaaay we’ll learn about… Cloud formations!”

Apologetic, Donnel glanced around as he scratched the back of his neck, meeting Ricken’s, Hayato’s and Lysithea’s eyes as he sat down. He bowed to them before turning back to Lissa’s long winded explanation about Stratus clouds.

Lysithea’s expression turned cold as her optimal studying space had been breached. “Aren’t they from your world, Ricken? Don’t they know how this is a place of learning and not of fooling around?”

“Ah, um, yeah. He’s the boy I was talking about, too, but…”

“You said people don’t treat him like a kid, though? But look, even that young princess is making sure to even call him ‘little brother’...” Hayato commented, glancing between Ricken and the other two.

“I’m surprised, too. I only see people praising him and telling him to go to the frontlines more often. Princess Lissa can be annoy-erm, difficult to deal with, especially if you’re younger than her…” Ricken spoke with a jaded voice, as though he had experienced all of that first hand (he did). “I didn’t know Donny also went through that.”

Hayato cracked his fingers. “He doesn’t seem to be much older, just like you said.”

“Yup, I can only imagine they treat him differently because he wields a weapon, not magic. They might think I’m weaker than others just ‘cause I don’t have muscl-”

“That’s ridiculous.” Lysithea interrupted. “Mages are one of the most terrifying pieces of the battlefield. No one has any right to look down on a mage just because they’re more fragile than their weaponized peers.”

As both boys nodded, Ricken clutched his hands. “Yeah, but that’s the only conclusion I can come to, honestly. What IS the difference between us if not that? We’re basically the same age! I refuse to believe it’s because I’m- I… I’m s-shorter than him!”

As the three of them discussed, Donnel raised his hand to ask Lissa a question. “But ‘scuse me, ma’am, it’s the Nimbus kinda cloud tha’s the rainy one! Folks called ‘em that ‘cause no matter how fast you saw ‘em, they’d catch up with ya and wet all your laundry, that it would!”

“Weh? What? No! It’s the Cumulus one, I’m sure of it!” Lissa was bewildered for a moment before stomping her foot stubbornly. “I’m the older one here, so I know best, okay?”

Donnel scratched his head awkwardly. “B-b-buh… But the Cumulus kinda cloud’s the one’s looks likea’ tree, ain’t it? Mighty tasty-looking too, like a pretty treat I saw in one offa those fancy towns we gon ‘bout.”

“Nghhh!” Lissa shook with embarrassment and mortification. That wasn’t the first NOR the second time Donnel corrected her during her ‘classes’. She was the older sister here, darn it all!

In between the three mages, the princess and the villager boy, none of them could truly fathom the reason why people treated Donnel differently, despite their close ages. In other circumstances, perhaps, Lissa would be sitting at the table alongside Ricken, Hayato and Lysithea. However, since that was not the case, the group was fated to observe the duo.

If they had just a little more self-awareness, they might have realized that the simple and obvious reason was only one’s behavior and humility.

But perhaps, they were all still too young to realize...

[kyberled]

RANDOM ASKS || ALWAYS ACCEPTING

Anonymous asked:

can you explain some of your favorite character tags and why you chose them for the character/what they mean to braig?

This is a really cool question, anon! I don’t know if I have any ‘favourites’, but I do have some that are more ‘generic’, for lack of a better words, and others that are more personalized. The generic ones are typically for characters I haven’t written with - Yoda, Ki-Adi, etc etc. I can sort of theorize how Braig feels about them, but he’s never really interacted with them, so I keep it pretty plain. 

For the more ‘specialized’ tags, again, I don’t have favourites, but these are based more on relationships or perceptions of characters Braig has (based on past interactions, in the case of character tags) or just Braig himself (in the case of ‘meta’ tags, eg in character, out of character, etc). But, since you asked for character tags specifically, I’ll give you a peek at those (plus relationship tags, because those relate to specific portrayals and typically have more meaning). (I feel like I should also clarify here I’m absolutely open to writing with multiples, I just so far only have one relationship per muse, ergo one tag per.) 

OBI-WAN: ‘Paragon of the Order’ / ‘To Make You Proud’

This is the only case where both the character tag and the relationship tag are based on a specific portrayal. That’s simply because without Rodi/Spacedad, this boy wouldn’t exist. When I say Rodi has joint custody of Braig, I’m only half kidding. The tag ‘paragon of the Order’ is taken both from what some novels said about Obi-Wan, how he was the gold standard that other knights told their padawans to be like and all, as well as Braig’s own personal bias.  He loves his dad. He always has. In his mind, Obi is the best and brightest, so the tag reflects that. The relationship tag stems from that, as well - it’s really all Braig has ever wanted from their relationship. He just wants his dad to be proud of him. That’s it. 

CODY: ‘Unwavering Loyalty’ / ‘Follow Your Lead’

Now we’re onto Cody! The Marshal Commander of the 7th Sky, and leader of the 212th. Cody is known for his loyalty, and that’s something Braig has noticed. It’s impossible to miss. Loyalty to his brothers, loyalty to his Jedi… That’s just Cody. The relationship tag, ‘Follow your lead’, is for Liz’s (nieithryn / itspersonalforus) portrayal. This is another case of Braig bonding at the hip with someone, and it’s mutual. He ADORES Cody. Of course, it took them a little bit to get into the groove of things (If you’re reading this, Liz, I’ll never be over Cody’s shift from ‘it’s a little awkward having two commanders’ to *picks up Braig* ‘oh you mean my son? My child?? My boy???’), just as it took Braig some time to find his footing in a war zone. He was only fourteen, after all. When he was still figuring out how to navigate being around  soldiers, he took cues from Cody as much as he did from Obi-Wan. And the older and more experienced Braig got, the more Cody would come to rely on him, as well. So, in that sense, the tag ‘Follow Your Lead’ is representative of the trust and faith they have in each other as colleagues, allies, friends, and, eventually, as family, too. 

WOLFFE: ‘Howling Fury’ / ‘Tough Love’ 

This is an older one, since unfortunately Xidori hasn’t been around tumblr in quite a while, but the old folks here will remember the snarly brother. The character tag for Wolffe is pretty straightforward, I think. His name is Wolffe, he heads the Wolfpack, he’s angry a lot. Ergo, howling fury. Tough love came from, again, Xidori. Braig was entirely convinced Wolffe didn’t like him, because Wolffe was, well, Wolffe. Then one of the other clone muses on the dash started teasing Braig and Wolffe threatened to rip their head off, so. It should be noted this became a pretty common trend. He may not have always been the most affectionate, but he was a protective ori’vod, so ‘tough love’ it was. 

AHSOKA TANO: ‘Earned Her Stripes’ / ‘Hear Us Roar’ / Honourable Mention: ‘Make It Through Together’

Ahsoka’s character tag is another straightforward one. It’s also a bit of a pun, which, if you know me, is about as on brand as I can get. She’s a stripey girl, but she also comes into her own over the course of the Clone Wars. She’s still a kid when we leave her, but she’s grown. So, to Braig, the ‘earned her stripes’ means that he’s acknowledging her growth, and he’s proud of her, for what it’s worth. It isn’t easy to do what they do. 

And I lied! I had, for a while, two different Ahsoka relationship tags. Only one of them is ‘active’ now, since I have no idea where Alpha’s gone off to, but there were two. ‘Hear us roar’ is the platonic/familial relationship between Braig and Cortnye (iamnojedi)’s Ahsoka. These two became fast friends, bonding over a love of a certain Fett (to be discussed later), shared eyerolls while their masters bickered, and general teenage tomfoolery. It was Cortnye’s idea that these doofuses used to have roaring contests when they were babies in creche, so the tag is partly in reference to that. It’s also because neither of them shy away from a fight when it’s needed. Whether it’s standing up for the rights of the men in the Clone Wars or facing down Inquisitors in the days of the Empire, they don’t know how to go quietly into that good night. They’re a force to be reckoned with at any stage, and I like to think the tag reflects that. 

The honourable mention goes out to Alpha’s Ahsoka. I can’t link a blog, because Alpha had a few, and I’m not sure which she’d prefer, but in this case, the relationship between Braig and Ahsoka was romantic. (They even had a daughter! Her name was Ashla, Ashie for short, and Braig basically acted like she hung the stars in the sky.) They started out as friends, then best friends, then Alpha and I realized it had progressed to something different, so here we were. They got up to all manner of trouble both on and off the battlefield, and tended to go to each other for comfort when things got rough. Alpha and I once said that they’d make it through anything if they had each other, so that became their tag. 

BOBA FETT: ‘Strange Parallels’ / ‘Worth The Risk’

I told you we’d talk about him later, and now it’s technically later. The ‘character tag’ doesn’t necessarily mean much to Braig, since, in a ‘typical’ universe, he wouldn’t know much about our favourite hunter, but it means a bit to me. These two are surprisingly alike. Both orphans at at least one point in their lives, both carrying the legacy of their fathers on their shoulders, both lost their dads at the end of a lightsaber, both struggling to grow up in a universe that is cruel to them. Every time Obi-Wan and Jango fought, I couldn’t help but think that if the fortunes had played out differently, the boys could have almost role-swapped. I didn’t even realize it until I started talking to Darian, well after making this boy of mine, but I thought it was really cool. And speaking of Darian, how about that relationship tag? 

In this case, the tag is for Darian (godshaped)’s Boba. This is, I think, the longest ship I’ve had on any of my blogs, since we’ve been writing them for at least five years - maybe six. I’m bad at counting. But yes, the boys are going strong, and that’s not about to change. I don’t think either of us expected them to go the route they did. To be fair, I’;m not sure the boys expected it, either. I still remember the moment Braig realized he’d caught feelings and they weren’t going away - the ‘oh. OH. oh no.’ will forever live in my mind. He doesn’t regret it. He’s happy. The ‘worth the risk’ kind of changed meanings over time. Originally, I think it was in part ‘worth the risk of attachment’, but they’re beyond that. They had that conversation early on, when they realized they were getting serious. ‘I love you and I don’t think I’m ever going to feel like this for anyone else, but I am a Jedi and my first commitment is always going to be to the Order.’ vs. ‘I love you too but I’m a bounty hunter  and that means I’m going to be very hard to contact at times if not completely off the radar. Also the legality of it is in question.’ Plus the general danger of their jobs. They ended up at the conclusion that ‘this was who you are before we met and will probably be who you are after, I don’t want to take that from you or get in the way of it, so we’ll just enjoy the time we have together while we can’. I’m proud of them. Anyway, I could go on about them for ages, but the tag has sort of transitioned to ‘being with you is worth the risk that comes with’, that being that Boba is a fugitive before the Republic falls, and Braig is one after. Not exactly the safest relationship, but they love each other regardless. 

DARTH MAUL: ‘Tenacity of a Roach’ / ‘Changing Course’ 

This one is laced with a bit more of Braig’s personal opinions. Maul is hard to kill, we all know that. In canon, Braig cannot stand Maul. Maul killed his grandmaster and Maul won’t stop tormenting his master/dad. It’s not really conducive to a good relationship. That’s honestly all I have to say about that. 

The ‘Changing Course’ tag is for the AU I have with Keats (rcvival). This one was a surprise for Braig. But you know what? Sometimes you just have to rehabilitate a Sith. You just gotta. This is still a relatively new one, though Braig is proud of the progress his uncle is making. He’s just trying to be very careful to not undo any of that progress, and - especially early on - not get himself stabbed. The ‘Changing Course’ tag is to show that this is changing the way the story went, in a few ways. Sidious still wins, 66 still happens, all of that, but it’s a bit of a different path for Maul to take. 

MACE WINDU: ‘Steadfast and Stern’ / ‘A Violet Legacy’ 

In this house we love and support Mace Windu. That’s the rules. He’s a good good man and Braig knows that well; I imagine all Jedi do. But still, the war takes a toll on him. This sort of represents the two sides of Mace we see: The man who holds firm to his beliefs, and the man who has to represent and defend the Order in public settings. Steadfast and stern. 

The relationship tag is for another one of Liz’s kids: Grandpa Mace. Another one of Braig’s favourites, and the person who came closest to training kiddo before Obi swooped in to scoop him up. If you get it, you get it: Grandpa tried to poach him with bird facts. The long and short of it is Braig loves his grandpa, and this should come as no surprise to anyone. The fact that Mace takes him on as a student of Vapaad only adds to that. It’s an honour to be taught that style, an honour to be seen as good enough, but it also gives them a fair amount of one on one time. They talk a lot during cool-down periods. Sometimes it’s about their days, or general thoughts, or the war, and sometimes Mace just told him stories. Braig learned a lot from him. He hopes that, by passing on these lessons, he can keep some of Mace’s memory alive, even if only in a small way.

Also, they both have purple lightsabers. 

SHAAK TI: ‘Matriarch of Millions’ / ‘A Mother’s Love’

Ah, yes. Mama Ti. Matriarch seemed to fit because, whether or not you view her as being motherly to the clones, she’s definitely in charge. And there are, well, millions of them. So, yes, another straight-forward one. 

As for the relationship tag, this one goes out to Sam (strcngered) and the mama they wrote for many years. (Fun fact, this is the character Sam was writing when we met, so, on a meta level, Shaak is very special to me.) Now, Braig doesn’t know what it’s like to have a mother in the traditional Western nuclear family sense. He doesn’t know what it’s like to have a traditional ‘family’ at all. His memories begin at the Temple. They would’ve ended there, too, but Palpatine is awful. All that aside, Braig has never felt like he was ‘missing out’, so to speak. Part of that was because of masters like Shaak. In our threads, this boy was absolutely doted on. He still has the baby blanket she made for him. (Or, he does until the Order falls. Again, Palpatine is awful.) He still draws great comfort and security from the sound of purring. And it’s all because of his mama. 

RAKO HARDEEN: ‘Learned to Hate’ / ‘Shattered Trust’ 

Fuck this guy. That’s basically what Rako’s character tag means, as far as Braig is concerned. Just fuck this guy. The Hardeen arc in general was a horrible time for him. He was maybe fifteen (which, granted, is kind of old for watching your dad die in Star Wars), he had no master and no idea what he was going to do, he watched his dad die (as I said), nobody seemed to care (yes, he knows Jedi don’t take revenge, but the dude broke out of prison, can we try to do SOMETHING to get him under some kind of supervision?), and for whatever reason, he hadn’t been able to do a thing to stop it. He was a mess those few days, and trying to process it all while also trying to do his duty as a Jedi was rough. I don’t think he’s ever really disliked anyone as much as he did Rako over those two days, so, yeah. 

As for the ‘relationship’ tag, that’s a bit of a misnomer in this case, since Braig only ever saw the real Rako once, when he shot Obi-Wan, and even that was only for a fleeting moment. It’s sort of a catch-all as both a Deception Arc verse/timeline tag and a way to describe his feelings towards the end of it all. It’s messy, and actually causes a chain reaction of events that leads to Braig getting his scar - but that’s a subject for a different post. Long story short, he didn’t really take the reveal well.

…. And that’s probably enough for now. I just picked some random ones here, for the most part, so sorry there isn’t really a theme between them. If there are any I didn’t touch on that you’re curious about, or any you want more clarification on, or anything like that, please let me know! <3

[posi-pan]

hey, I just watched Kat Blaque's, a famous youtuber, video on her experiences dating bi and pan men. I must admit I was a bit skeptical about the video because I'm tired of pan people only being brought into conversations when those conversations include bi people but I do think the video was done in good faith and was important to Kat and other viewers. I suggest it because you're highly involved in pan content and would maybe like some more (not to assume anything).

If you have any opinions about the video (or the comments), I would be happy to hear. Warning though, a few comments are on the panphobic side of things with the connotations of 'pan and bi are the same' and Kat is a straight woman so some things she says are a bit iffy. But it's not all bad as Tee Noir, another famous youtuber, casually announced she's pansexual in the comments and I find that they are pan people in their 40s and 50s (Kat's partners) comforting.

it’s an interesting video. it sort of speaks to the stories i’ve heard about pan gaining ground in response to transphobia, as a way to be clear from the jump that it means all, ya know? and that’s not saying other sexualities or people weren’t “inclusive”, just that trans people often had the experience of not knowing who would be open to being with them, so it was one of the ways people tried to alleviate that anxiety. (which she also mentioned on twitter, that anxiety about being rejected for being trans decreases when she finds out someone is pan). and considering the accounts of trans and nonbinary people being largely behind that, it makes sense.

and the reminder of much older pan folks is always nice. and i was surprised that the comments are not all bad? most comments i scrolled through were just continuing the conversation she started, without any hate or debates. that said, there were some comments i saw (and probably more based on her pinned comment in response to criticism) that were......what i expected.

she said over and over that she isn’t making generalizations about bi and pan people, that she’s speaking solely on her dating experiences, yet some people are still in the comments giving their label arguments and takes on “discourse” and acting like she said bisexuality and bi people are transphobic when that wasn’t even the point of the video. like, a trans person can’t open an honest, nuanced dialogue about their experiences with bi and pan people without little shits getting defensive and turning it into a label war?

there are other people in the comments who had similar or the same experiences, and others who had the exact opposite experience, and it’s like....why can’t that just be it? why can’t someone say “this is my experience, what’s yours?” and people be like “omg same!” and “the complete opposite, how weird!” and accept that no community is a monolith and we all have our own experiences that we’re allowed to talk about and just keep it moving? why can’t we have nuanced conversations without jumping down each other throats over because “not all” when no one was saying “all” and they were in fact saying “this is only my experience” over and over?

if someone isn’t using their personal experience to generalize an entire group of people or their identity as bad, harmful, bigoted, etc. then what the fuck is the problem? stop throwing discourse at people talking only about their personal experiences. (i shouldn’t be surprised because whenever i mention trans and nonbinary people who have experienced transphobia in bi spaces i get called a biphobe. interesting how i’ve never been called a panphobe for mentioning transphobia in pan spaces. hm wonder why.)

anyways, that got a bit rambly lmao sorry

OH, can we talk about tee noir’s video about the culture of coming out??? because it’s 💯💯💯 (i think there was only like, one statement i didn’t like)

[yourwakingnightmares]

Scott Summers Character Study

Okay, does anyone else have those characters that they don’t follow full-time, but they always come back to? Kind of like that old sweatshirt you keep: sure, you have new ones, and they’re great, but that old one is just comfortable, and perfect.

Scott Summers has always been that character for me; like, sometimes I might go months, or years without writing, or looking up anything Scott Summers related... Then something happens, and boom. There it goes, I’m on a roll again. And so... Here we are with my rant of the day.

Buckle in folks, this is gonna be a long one.

I think a lot of people have dismissed Scott as a character, saying that he’s ‘flat’, or ‘one-dimensional’. And if you only periodically glance at comics, or peruse through the movies, I can see how you’d come to that conclusion.

Because unlike Logan (who I do enjoy, this isn’t an anti-Logan post), whose story is easy to follow, easy to understand, Scott’s story is nuanced; it’s something developed over time, with small hints and glimpses thrown in.

For example... what we find out is that Scott is the way he is, because Xavier made him that way. Xavier needed a leader, but he was stuck with Scott: a boy who had lost his parents. A boy who’d suffered from a horrific brain injury. A boy who’d been experimented on, and mind-raped by Nathaniel Essex, also known as Mr. Sinister for Scott’s formative years following his brain injury. A boy who escaped a sadistic telepath, only to end up in the hands of an abusive criminal.

So what does Xavier do? Well, he smooths out those edges; he puts subtle compulsions to turn Scott into the leader he needs him to be. He takes the edge off of the worst memories, and turns them into something distant; something that Scott can look at like a movie starring someone else as the traumatized kid.

Now, don’t misunderstand me: Scott was a brilliant leader. He had the tactical ability, the logistical knowledge to be a leader, even without Xavier. Which is what makes what Xavier did that much worse.

Because what that means is that Scott could’ve gotten there on his own; he could’ve been that leader without Xavier screwing with his head.

Xavier took a kid who needed a home, who needed stability, who needed therapy, and said, “Aha! I know a quicker route! Screw that other stuff; that’ll take years to be effectual! I’ll just do a bit of mental landscaping, and wall off the emotions he felt; I’ll just take the edge off those memories! Surely, nothing can go wrong!”

Looking at Scott’s relationship with Jean from this perspective also sheds new light on it: Scott’s mind had been violated by three telepaths, all of whom had only their own goals in mind. Mr. Sinister, Jack Winters, and Charles Xavier all were concerned more with Scott as means to an end, than they were with Scott himself.

Enter Jean Grey. A young girl, who is a freak even by mutant standards. She struggled to keep her telepathy under control, and we’re frequently shown in comics, books, and even the movies, that she picked up stray thoughts from almost everyone, leading to some very embarrassing moments for everyone. She was an outcast among outcasts.

Not to Scott though. When everyone else is worried about keeping their thoughts locked up tight around Jean, when everyone else is avoiding her so she doesn’t accidentally read their minds... Scott embraces her. He falls in love with her.

And I don’t think we truly ever look at why. Because here was a kid who had every justifiable reason to hate Jean -he’d spent roughly half his life being a plaything for telepaths, people who plucked out things they didn’t like, or added things they wanted. Out of everyone at the Mansion, Scott truly had the best reason to fear and/or hate Jean; out of all of them, Scott best knows the dangers of having a telepath rooting around in other people’s minds. But he doesn’t. Instead, he falls in love with her.

Why? Don’t misunderstand me, they had things they loved about each other in their relationship, but how did it even begin? Why was Scott so open and accepting about Jean’s fragile control over her telepathy in their teenage years?

Because he’d never had any say in who played in his head to begin with. To him, Jean’s accidental slip-ups were nothing compared to the other telepaths he’d interacted with. While everyone else saw Jean’s powers for what they were (an invasion of their most sacred thoughts, accidental or not), Scott was so screwed in the head that it wouldn’t have crossed his mind to be angry or upset about it.

This isn’t to malign Jean, or her and Scott’s relationship; after all, Jean hadn’t done anything wrong either. But it casts a rather dark shadow over the beginnings of their relationship.

But why does Scott become so enamored with Jean? To the point where, after her death, he marries a woman who -although he doesn’t know it -is quite literally a clone of her?

Because Jean was the first telepath who didn’t screw with his head; probably the only person who truly knew what was going on in Scott’s head, and didn’t run screaming. Although he would later meet another, for many years, Jean was the only telepath Scott had had in his mind who didn’t remake his mental landscape.

And think about it: how many people would’ve been comfortable having a lover who literally knew what you were thinking, 24/7? That’s not being mean, that’s just pragmatism: we rarely share our innermost thoughts with anyone, and yet we see that Jean was as comfortable in Scott’s head as she was her own.

We see that Jean’s death devastated Scott; for the first time, he went against his programming. For the first time, we start to catch glimpses of Scott beyond what Sinister, Winters, and Xavier created.

Now, what Scott did to Madelyne was wrong; there’s no two ways around it. However, what can we learn from this, when viewed in context with everything else?

Following Jean’s death, Scott acted like a man who’d lost a piece of himself. He starts searching for his past (finding his grandparents in Alaska), where he meets a woman who is practically the physical twin of his soulmate. Within months, Scott proposes, and they get married, eventually having a son (and we won’t even get into the fact that Scott allows Madelyne to name his son after a man who nearly broke him).

As an adult, these actions can only be looked at as selfish, and reprehensible. But what if we look at it through a different lens for a moment.

These actions would be considered ‘normal’ by teenagers, and young adults; hell, most of us went to school with couples whose story emulated Scott and Madelyne’s. Scott’s first and only girlfriend dies tragically, and he decides to try and learn more about his past -for the first time since his parents died. He meets a girl, rebounds hard, and gets married quickly, only to realize what most adults already know: rebounds never work, and never last. Looking at Madelyne was a benefit at the start, but as time went on, it became a knife in his chest: she was the physical twin of Jean, after all, but she wasn’t really Jean -in fact, Madelyne and Jean had very little in common beyond the physical.

Any healthy adult would have understood this; that physically looking like someone doesn’t mean two people are the same. While this doesn’t excuse Scott’s treatment of Madelyne, it at least gives us a reason. He’s acting out, searching for his origins, and falling in love with a girl who looks like the only person who loved him for who he was. Just like a teenage boy would do.

Now, again: this behavior is unacceptable. As a society, we teach boys this, and they learn through experience. It’s a life lesson -however, it’s one that Scott never got to learn. Scott never got to be a teenage boy; he never got the chance to learn, because Xavier had turned him into his perfect little soldier who never questioned him from such a young age (and prior to that, his only consistent interactions were with the men who abused him, mentally and physically).

Later, we see Scott with Emma Frost -a woman most consider to be a villain, a woman who had fought against the X-Men before. Why?

Well, firstly, let’s consider the implications that Scott chooses another relationship with a female telepath. Sure, with Jean, we explained why they ended up together, but by the time Scott meets Emma, he’s older; he’s more experienced. Why does he put himself in a relationship with someone with the same telepathic abilities as the men who nearly destroyed his very sense of self as a child?

We have to remember that, at first, Emma simply offers to telepathically counsel Scott; to try and piece together the shattered void of his mental landscape. Meaning that Emma was the first person at that point to see the emerging Scott Summers -Jean knew the Scott that had been created, manipulated, and ordered around by Xavier, but following Jean’s death, we start to see glimpses of the real Scott. And Emma is the first telepath to get to see inside Scott’s head, as he starts to throw off the remnants of what Xavier had turned him into.

And she starts to fall in love with him. Unlike with Jean, there are no demands or expectations in place; Emma accepts him for who he is. He questions his loyalty to Xavier? Emma’s okay with that. He questions who he actually is? Emma offers to help him find out.

(Please note: this isn’t knocking Jean; she was as much a victim of Xavier as Scott was, in her own way).

But for the first time, we see Scott Summers start to come into his own; we see him making decisions, expressing opinions, expressing wants and desires outside of life as an X-man. We see him show doubt of Xavier, we see him struggling with who he actually is, and who he was made into.

And Emma... Emma just accepts it. She accepts Scott for who he is, with no agenda, no pressure, not expectations.

Moving a head a bit, let’s look at the action that turned Scott into one of the most reviled comic characters: his killing of Charles Xavier, while under the control of the Phoenix Force.

Now, you can look here for my opinions on Xavier, and why I think we should’ve all been celebrating his death. But let’s look at this for a moment.

Most people’s reactions to this were ‘Xavier raised Scott! Scott was like his son! Scott was one of his first students! How could he?!’

I think the better question, when we look at all the events in Scott’s life is... how did he refrain that long? Xavier’s betrayal of him was so much worse than Sinister’s or Winters’ because Xavier did it as a friend. As a parental figure. Sinister just rewrote, erased, or destroyed things in Scott’s head as he pleased, simply for kicks. Winters’ used his -admittedly limited -telepathic abilities to force Scott to help him steal.

But Xavier saved him from that, right? Xavier gave him a safe place to stay. A place with no more experiments, no more mind-control, no more pain. He earned Scott’s trust, gave him a home, a life, and a purpose.

Only... he didn’t. Xavier betrayed Scott, in a way that Sinister and Winters couldn’t have done. Because Scott didn’t trust them. He trusted Xavier, and Xavier fucked with his head just as badly as Sinister had done. Whereas Sinister and Winters had taken a sledgehammer to Scott’s mental landscape... Xavier just chiseled away at it until it became something he wanted. 

I’m going to end this here, because really, there wasn’t much of a point to this post, other than to detail out a lot of thoughts that have been kicking around for a while. If you agree, or disagree, I’d love to hear it. 

[irishmacguirefucker]

Meeting Tilly Jackson

A.N: (So originally this was going to be for my au but I realized that if I wanna write Tilly in my AU i need to properly understand her background. We don't have a lot of specific details in the game, so i wrote this. Essentially its how Dutch found Tilly and took her in. She’s 14 in this. I will probably have a part 2 soon. Its a little dialogue heavy)

(TW: Sexual Assault of a minor is mentioned but nothing happens, blood)

Wordcount:  3110

-

Tilly Jackson has a family. They may be a little odd, different than what everyone else might consider a family, but a family nonetheless. Dutch and Hosea her father figures, Susan Grimshaw a motherly presence. Sisters in Karen, Mary-Beth and the other women of the camp, brothers in Arthur and John and most of the other men. The titles don't matter so much as the feeling of safety and comfort and appreciation among them. She missed her late mother of course, but she hoped on some level her mother would be happy with how things turned out for the girl in the end. Being kidnapped at the age of 12 was nothing short of traumatizing, and for a long while, things only got worse. The Foreman gang was the opposite of a family. They were nothing to her but the people who stole her away from her mother claimed to own her. The ones who tried to take advantage of her. The night that Malcolm Foreman tried to make advances on her and she killed him was the night she would consider herself grown. 

She's not sure exactly how long she was alone, it must have been under a year. She went to find her mother only to hear of her death, and with nowhere else to go she just kept running. The further she made it the less likely that Anthony Foreman would find her and pay her back for what she did to his cousin. She knows that it was early spring when she left. The snow had barely been off the ground, she supposed that no longer being wrapped in a ratty cloak and scarf was the reason that gang member thought to make his move. 

Dutch found her just when it was beginning to get cold again. 

Despite considering herself grown, her body disagreed. The shoes she ran away in were already ill-fitted, and by that autumn they were practically falling apart. Her toes stuck out the front. She had done her best to steal clothing off people’s clotheslines, but they rarely fit.

Dutch caught her doing just that. He had been watching the property of some well off folks, planning on casing it with Arthur later that week. He watched as a girl no older than 14, snuck out from the tree line in a torn-up blouse and a too-long skirt.

She was clearly not experienced in stealing as she tripped over her skirts up the property, but she made it to the side of the house mostly successfully. She quickly tore down a long dress and an undershirt and quickly started back to the tree line. She stared wistfully at the property's large orchard and nearly turned her course towards it before hearing the owner of the house open his front door and stealing away into the forest. Even from a distance, Dutch knew what that hesitation meant. She was hungry.

Dutch was hardly one to let a promising little thief like her starve in the forest, so with a passing glance at the house he stood from his hiding spot up the hill and mounted the Count.

Tracking was never one of Dutch’s strongest abilities but she made it rather easy, with footprints in the mud, a scrap of fabric where her clothing caught a branch, etc. Eventually, he reached a spot where she seemed to trip and fall, and then there were a few drops of blood here and there as he followed. He knew he was getting closer, the blood wasn’t dry. He dismounted his horse and began leading him forward when suddenly she jumped out from behind a tree wielding a large rusted hunting knife. 

“Don’t come any closer! You can take your clothes back, here.” She kicked over the items he had just watched her steal. “Don’t tell the law, and I’ll disappear. I don’t have anything more to offer you.”

Dutch grinned, she was strong-willed. But he also observed that her cheeks were sunken in, and her skin was dull. She was visibly malnourished, and there was blood dripping from one of her small hands. He hoped it was a branch she cut herself on and not that dirty knife of hers.

He put his hands up in a friendly gesture.

“I’m not the man you robbed earlier, don’t you worry. I watched you steal that dress, you’re quite the little thief.” 

She was doing a damn good job of hiding her fear, but Dutch was experienced in seeing past such facades. She didn’t seem scared of the weapon she was holding, as the young and inexperienced often were when they wielded such an item. She just seemed scared of him. 

“Why did you follow me, it ain’t your things I stole. I have nothing to give you, so you best just leave me be.” She didn’t stutter, her high pitched voice remained unwavering and strong. Dutch tried his best to look unthreatening, something he didn’t find himself having to do often. 

“Well, I myself was planning on robbing that house myself later with a few of my friends, perhaps I just wanted to see if you had any advice for me as a seasoned visitor of that property.”

She didn’t believe him and didn’t lower her knife, but she didn’t run either. Good. “Now if I reach for something in my saddle bag here are you gonna come at me with that big old knife?”

She narrowed her eyes. “Why?”

Dutch smiled. “Well if you and I are gonna talk business I thought that maybe I could pay you for your time, little lady.”

She finally lowered the knife a little, seeming less afraid but very suspicious. “You wanna pay me for information on that house?”

“I do. Information is worth a lot to us outlaws, you should know that well Darlin’” He slowly turned to the horse. Even if she did attempt to stab him, she wouldn’t get to him before he could turn around, so he wasn’t worried. As he was digging through the saddlebag she spoke up behind him.

“Don’t call me Darlin.” 

He smiled at her bravado but kept looking through the bag. “Well, you’ve yet to give me something else to call you Miss. Ah! Here it is!” He turned back to her holding a small stack of cash and a wrapped parcel. 

“Yeah, well neither have you!” There’s that reminder that he’s talking to a child. They’re always so petulant. John had been just the same, though a little more rabid. “Well, I’m Dutch, Dutch Van der Linde.”

He studied her face for any sign of recognition, but there was none. Good, less reason for her to be afraid of him. She didn’t give her name just yet. 

“Are you with the Foreman brothers?” She asked boldly. “I won’t let you take me back, I’ll kill you before you get me back there.” That would explain her fear, she wasn’t just a thief. She was a runaway from another gang.

“Now I’ll tell you right now Miss, I’m not with Anthony Forman or his little gang. The only gang I’m with is the Van der Linde gang, and I promise me and mine won’t bring you any harm.”

“You...You lead a gang?” She was shaking, it was starting to get colder as the sun was setting. 

“I am, but we aren’t like those bastards you knew. We’re just good people, looking to live free.”

Then he did something bold, a gesture to help her feel safer in the presence of a gang leader. Hopefully, she would be a little more at ease. “Do you mind if I sit down Miss-” 

“Jackson. Tilly Jackson.”

He smiled. “Miss Jackson. Do you mind if I sit while we talk? Tracking you was quite a little adventure.” 

“Go ahead, I guess.” 

“Thank you, Tilly.” He sat down on a log just to the side, and she lowered her weapon fully but gripped it tight. “Now, go ahead and take this.” He took a couple of bills and tucked them into the string around the parcel. She stared at it suspiciously.

 “I didn’t tell you nothing yet and I ain’t stupid mister Van der Linde, why are you giving me this.” 

He smiled and leaned forward to place the parcel on the ground in front of him, between them. 

“As I said, you’re quite the thief and I think you could help me out. Doesn't hurt to butter up the informant. There's some food in the package, I thought you looked a little hungry.”

She seemed to stare at the parcel longingly and something clenched in Dutch’s cold heart. The poor girl must be starving.

 “I…I don’t have no info for you, Mister Van der Linde. I just needed the clothes.” She seemed disappointed to be saying it, but she didn't lie to him like he thought she might.

“Well...maybe you could just keep me company then Milady. Good company is hard to find among us outlaws, as I’m sure you know.”

In a flash, she was back two steps and her knife was raised once more.

“I ain’t that kind of girl. you can keep your fucking money and go pay a real whore for your damned “company’”

This was the opposite of the outcome he was looking for, and entirely at the fault of his own poor word choice. He should have known better, there are only a few things that can happen to a young girl in this country to put her on the run and make her fear good company. 

“Now listen here, Miss Jackson. I am not that kind of man, I wouldn’t take advantage of you like I’m sure the bastards in Foreman’s gang tried. It’s like I said it, my gang is just good men looking for freedom and money. You can leave right now if you want and I won’t stop you, or you can stay and eat some, and I promise I won’t even look at you funny.”

She stood frozen, knife gripped tight. She seemed to be weighing her options. Dutch had yet to pose a threat to her, his weapons remained holstered. He hadn’t even tried to come close to her. She steeled her nerves and spoke again. 

“Then...Give me one of your guns. If you really ain’t gonna try nothing then give me one of your pistols and if you try and do anything bad I’ll shoot you.”

In any other circumstance, he wouldn’t have even considered it. But this wasn’t some criminal who he was wringing for information. This was a terrified little girl who was too afraid of the man in front of her to even eat food when she was starving. He slowly reached for his left holster and pulled out the pistol. He made a big show of flipping it in his hand so that his finger stayed away from the trigger as not to scare her, and he placed it beside the parcel. Gently he pushed them both over with his foot and sat back on the log with his hands beside him. 

She stared at him, and quick as lightning she grabbed the items from the ground. She backed up to her spot and slowly sat on the ground. The pistol was too big for her hand, and her other hand was getting blood on the side of the wrapped meat. Slowly she unwrapped the piece of dried venison, not breaking eye contact with the man sitting before her. “Why are you being so kind to me, I ain’t never heard of a ‘Good’ outlaw, we’re all just killers and thieves.”

He took note of the word ‘we’ before killers and thieves. Perhaps there was a reason she was so steady holding that knife. “I suppose no truer words have been spoken Miss Tilly, but I was never the type to watch a young lady suffer…You know, I found my son Arthur when he was about your age. The boy was just starving in the streets, stealing what he could. Quite like you are now.”

She didn’t respond, just stared at him a moment longer before taking a large bite of the meat. He hadn’t seen someone eat so ravenously since he fed John for the first time.

It took a lot of talking to get her to let her guard down. She didn’t reveal much about herself, other than that her mother died and she wasn’t part of the foreman gang, she was just there. Though the tension in her shoulders slowly sapped away as she filled her stomach and let herself calm down. They spoke for a few hours and he tried his best not to treat her like a child, god knows they hate when you do that. He couldn’t help but notice that she just seemed so sad. Once all that fear subsided and she spoke more freely, it was clear that she was lost. She mentioned her mother’s death with deep sorrow, her eyes going glassy before she seemed to catch herself and move on. 

Eventually, her hand stopped bleeding, and he tried to catch a look at it as she gestured. The sun was nearly set and he would have to get back to camp before they went looking for him.

He told her as much and he watched that deep-set sadness seep back to her features. 

“Oh… well. It was nice to meet you Dutch.” She used his first name for the first time. He stood up and she did as well, wincing as she used her injured hand to push off the ground.

“You know... you could come back with me and let our doctor take a look at that hand. Well...she ain’t exactly a doctor, but she can fix it. We wouldn’t want that getting infected, it’s far easier to be an outlaw with both hands.”

She wanted to go with him, he could see it in her eyes. Good friends are hard to come by when you’re a child with no home. 

“And perhaps, you could stay awhile. Learn how to be a real outlaw instead of a dress thief.” She seemed offended at the comment, a funny little scowl crossing her features. She was thinking about the offer, and he hoped it sounded at least a little better than sleeping alone in the forest. 

“If I come to your camp….nobody's gonna try and touch me?”

 “Absolutely not my dear, if they try I’ll cut off their hand myself.” She seemed to giggle a little at the notion, a sound he would take pride in. She sobered up and asked; 

“And I can leave whenever I want? I ain’t gonna let anyone try and say they own me ever again.”

“If you come to camp, Tilly Jackson will remain a free woman, but you’ll have a home to come back to if that’s what you would like.”

He watched her hesitate a little longer. Some coyotes barked in the distance and she shivered.  “Maybe just for a little while. Just to try it.” 

“And you can leave whenever you want.” he reassured.

“And I can leave whenever I want.” She repeated it back like she was convincing herself. He turned his back to adjust the Count’s saddle and give him a sugar cube, and he heard small footsteps come closer to him.

“Um. Can I give him one? He’s real pretty.” Dutch turned and she was at his side, staring at the large animal. She was even smaller up close, and he could see that her bones stood up against her dark skin.

“You know, I think he would like that. Now here, take just one of these and put it in your hand flat. Don’t worry, he won’t bite you.” She went to take it from his hand before realizing her hands were full with the knife and Dutch’s gun. 

“Oh. Here you go, Mister Dutch.” She tried to hand him back the gun. Bravely he thought, to give up her best defense, but he didn’t take it.

“I’ll tell you what my lady, It’s gonna be a bit of a ride to get back to camp and I don’t want you feeling like you can’t hold your own. You hold on to that one just until we get back, alright? We can put your knife in the bag safe and sound.” She obliged, putting the hunting knife gently in the saddlebag and holding on to the pistol. Then Dutch gave her the sugar cube and she held it out to the horse gingerly. The Count had no such hesitation and stole the treat from her hand quickly, the softness of his nose near her fingers making her giggle.

“Now, I think we might just be ready to move! Can I help you up milady?” He said, with a ring clad hand extended like a butler. The gesture made her giggle more and Dutch was happy to see the sadness put aside for a little while. She took his hand in her much smaller one and let him lead her to the side of the saddle.

“Now, can I lift you or do you want to go stand on the log over there?” She could read the underlying notion. The hidden meaning of ‘Do you want me to touch you’, ‘is it okay if I lift you’, etc. He was being more considerate than anyone she had ever met. She took a deep breath and put a little trust in him.

“You can lift me if that’s okay.”

“It would be my honor milady.” He lifted her onto the horse’s rump and tried not to think about how light she was. How he could feel her bones through the layers of her shirt. Once she was settled, he climbed up himself. Before they got going he pulled out his canteen and an apple from the bag. 

“Here. Dinner will be done by the time we get to camp and there’s no reason you should go hungry back there, that just wouldn’t befit such a distinguished young lady.” She accepted the food, and he set the Count into a walk to get them out of the underbrush. Once they were on the path he pushed into a more brisk pace, but he wouldn’t risk trotting with her back there, the count’s trot could be rather rough and she’s so thin she would just be thrown off.

It would be a long ride back to camp at this pace, but it just gave him more time to get to know her and tell her about camp. 

[aion-rsa]

Pixar, Italian Style: Why Luca is Set in 1950s Italy

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Pixar movies have been set in all kinds of places: a coral reef, a closet full of toys, and the inside of the human brain are just a few examples of such creative flights of fancy. But with Luca, the original new fantasy coming from the fabled studio that will stream exclusively on Disney+ next month, director Enrico Casarosa and the filmmaking team have ventured into an exotic new locale: Italy during the 1950s.

Luca is the charming story of two young friends, Luca and Alberto (voiced by Jacob Tremblay and Jack Dylan Grazer respectively), who spend a delightful, seemingly carefree summer in a small town named Portorosso on the Italian Riviera, doing the kinds of things young boys in Italy do: riding Vespas, eating pasta, and seeing what kind of mischief they can get up to. But Luca and Alberto are not your run-of-the-mill boys. They’re sea monsters who can take on human form on dry land but must keep their true natures a secret from the townspeople they meet and interact with.

“What seemed pretty quickly relatable is feeling a little bit out of place or feeling a little bit like you’re not fitting in,” says Casarosa, who has been with Pixar since 2002 and made his directorial debut with the Oscar-nominated short “La Luna” in 2021. “You’re looking for who you are. So when we started thinking about the metaphor of having to look a certain way, but to have a whole hidden identity as a sea monster, it felt very true to the uneasiness of that time.”

While Casarosa says that the friendship between Luca and Alberto is “at the heart of the story” — and is based on his own real-life friendship, which endures to this day — the setting is equally important. “The setting felt true to a story of sea monsters, just because it’s kind of part of the sea and so present in that land. I remember moving to San Francisco and being so happy because I felt like that the bay is present here.”

Casarosa spent his childhood in the Italian port town of Genoa, right on the Riviera and the main inspiration for the setting of Luca. Another major inspiration was Cinque Terre, a stretch of five fishing villages in the province of La Spezia that are nestled among the Liguria region’s rugged cliffs, and are known for the area’s most famous export: pesto sauce.

The director says that he managed to sneak in some details from his hometown of Genoa into the village in Luca, which is situated in the Liguria region. “We’re putting a little Genoa in,” Casarosa confesses. “We wanted as much focaccia in this movie as possible. Focaccia is our bread… I have so many little details where I’m like, ‘Oh, this one is very specific and people in Liguria would probably understand.’ It’s a wonderful area of the world.”

Casarosa adds that he and the Luca production team had a specific goal in mind when it came to setting the movie in the Liguria region and drawing on its many traditions.

“We want to take people in an authentic way to a place,” he explains. “I’ve a lot of pride as an immigrant. I think the further away you are from your roots, the more you appreciate them, and honestly making films has really become my way to embrace my roots as much as possible.”

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While based in many ways on his own childhood, Luca does differ from Casarosa’s real life in one important way (well, two, since, as far as we know, he’s not a sea monster). Casarosa experienced his childhood during the 1980s, while the movie is set firmly in the 1950s, with all the period detail one might expect from that era in that part of the world.

“I think maybe because of the tube socks, the ‘80s seemed less interesting to me,” says Casarosa with a laugh when asked about the choice to set the film in the 1950s. “I grew up in the ‘80s. Nowadays the 80s are quite popular. But I feel it goes to the inspiration of the wonderful music from the ‘50s and ‘60s, the inspiration of the design of all the vehicles… It really was an aesthetic, beauty and a musical choice, and then a timelessness. When you go to an older era, it can feel a little more timeless.”

The little details of the era can be found in all kinds of corners of the movie, including the movie posters for films like Roman Holiday and La Strada, just two examples of the classic filmmaking era surreptitiously on display.

“It was after, first of all, a period that I love,” affirms Casarosa when asked whether the films of the era influenced his own. “So part of it is just my love of that golden era of film and cinema in Italy. I love the music in all these coming-of-age stories of summer. Music is a huge, huge part of a movie — I just love the music of the ’50s and ’60s in Italy, so we’re using a lot of that. And then the design, the old Vespas, the old, little cart-bicycle, I just love the sense that this has an old feel.”

Even the central conceit of the story — the idea that these two boys, Alberto and Luca, are actually sea monsters pretending to be human — was influenced in some ways by local legends along the Riviera. “There are a few different ones,” says Casarosa. “There is a wonderful town close to Cinque Terre that has, for example, a legend of a helpful octopus that rang the bell when the pirates were coming. I always found it fascinating. But you visit the place, the bell and the church are right on the sea. So you can see why people would think an octopus can definitely walk out and ring the bell.”

All of this — from the movie posters to the little Vespas buzzing around the streets to the food and more — extends the idea in Luca that the setting is almost a character itself, and that even an animated film can transport you for the first time to a distant new place, whether it be the Great Beyond or a quaint yet beautiful little riverside village in Italy, with as much authenticity as possible.

“We want to tell the real story, we want it to be authentic,” says producer Andrea Warren. “Obviously Enrico was a resource of a lot of that, but we did also create what we call a Pixar culture trust, which includes different folks from that area. It was really wonderful to hear a little bit of a different perspective on what authenticity means… we really appreciated all of that advice and input to create the best and the most authentic version that we could of Portorosso.”

Luca premiers exclusively on Disney+ starting on June 18.

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[sincityscene]

An Interview with Part II and the Electric Boogaloos

The trio that is Part II and the Electric Boogaloos brings all sub-genres of punk together in a meaningful way. Folk-punk-esque tracks such as ‘Se7en’ and ‘Dear Mr. Smith’ on their debut album, The Elders Pt. 1, strike a personal and heart-filled chord within the hearts of listeners. More heavy sounding tracks such as ‘Trash Letters’ and ‘Insomnia’, off of the same spring-released album, also do not fail to display personality with every strum. This band plays like they mean it. Today, we’re asking them a few questions about who they are and what’s upcoming for them.

Q: How did you all form as a band? Ben: I was drumming in a band called Blank Slate, and we were playing a show at our guitarist's cousin’s place and our guitarist said his cousin's cousin was gonna play with us. Well, that person was Jeffrey (guitarist and lead singer) and eventually he joined the band. Later he was kicked out by the guitarist because he was worried Jeffrey would take all his solos and he didn’t like him, and that’s when Jeffrey and I got together with Cameron, our drummer I met during high school band the previous year, and now we’re here. Q: Which song holds the most meaning to each of you? Why? Ben: Personally, to me, the song ‘Numb’ off ‘The Elders Pt. I’ holds the most meaning to me. Although it was written by Jeffrey with no knowledge of this, at the time I just really felt the lyrics symbolized a lot of the feelings and emotions I was experiencing during that era. Cameron: For me, ‘Go Home We Love You’ holds the most meaning. It was the first song that I wrote that has been put on a streaming service for the entire world to hear and it has always been a dream of mine to do so. It is a reminder that I have accomplished something that I have always wanted to accomplish. Jeffery: ‘Se7en’, because it’s the first song I’ve ever written. Q: Who inspires each of you? Why? Ben: Personally, I feel that the biggest inspirations on me are the hellcat bands, such as Rancid, The Interrupters, and Operation Ivy. I also love Tim Armstrong and he’s a really big inspiration for me as an artist. Though I feel I like to take ideas in playing, writing, and recording from artists of various genres such as Minor Threat, Dead Kennedys, Beastie Boys, Slipknot, Royal Blood, Franz Ferdinand, etc.. Overall I know we all take heavy inspiration from Black Sabbath, which we hope shines through on our next album. Cameron: My biggest inspiration in music is not a punk artist, but a Jazz artist. The world's greatest drummer, Buddy Rich, was the one who started the journey of drumming for me 13 years ago. As time went on, I started to watch and learn from other drummers from a ton of different genres and bands, but Buddy Rich is the one who started it all. Jeffery: Tom Waits, Alkaline Trio, and The Mountain Goats, all because of their lyrics. Q: Is there any insight you can give us into the future of this band, if so, what? Ben: We’ve got new music coming out soon, and we’re excited to say we’re just about finished with our second full length album, and it’s taking our music in a whole new direction that we hope feel is a really big step for us. Before that we’d like to take some time to play shows and promote ourselves within the Las Vegas scene. Q: Who would each of you like to open a show for, if given the chance? Ben: If I could choose any band to open for I’d probably go with The Interrupters, they’re a really big inspiration for me and I’ve been a huge fan of them for a while now, so much so that I put a patch of theirs on my battle jacket. Cameron: Honestly, I would love to open a show for The Misfits. They’re my favorite punk band.

Jeffery: The Cranberries. All the bands I want to open up for are dead.

Q: There seems to be some heavy lo-fi production. Were you inspired by older punk or was this a specific aesthetic? Ben: Well, our last album was produced by a kid named Romeo, and I can’t speak on his behalf, but with our more recent stuff I’ve been producing it and I do my best to base it off of the more raw sounds of bands like Minor Threat, Black Flag, or earlier albums by The Misfits. That being said, for our more acoustic and softer stuff I like to try to base it off of the acoustic sounds of Avenged Sevenfold and for bluesy stuff I do my best to model the sounds of The Record Company. Q: Last question; how did the use of samples come about?

Ben: Each one of us is really into movies and television and we all have these little quotes that we would find funny starting songs off with, such as the Ghostbusters’ clip at the start of the song ‘Trustees’. Cameron: We started using samples when Jeffrey had the idea of putting a news segment into the beginning of one of our songs, (which we eventually used in the beginning of ‘Porkchop Sandwiches’) and I also decided to use that idea to show where I got the inspiration to write that song because I get a lot of song ideas from watching television and YouTube and I want to show the audience where I got it from. Jeffery: I always loved songs with samples in them, and I just really wanted to do it because I thought it was so cool. Thank you for taking the time with us, Ben, Cameron, and Jeffery! This is a band to keep an eye on for sure. Part II and the Electric Boogaloos has their latest single, ‘Eraserhead’, out now on all streaming platforms. https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=vPs-1F_Y-D4 https://open.spotify.com/album/4huCVhDekQdSZbmHvWwE0h?si=9e-qKAusQNm2pTa3WXiRfA&dl_branch=1

- miles, sincityscene.