#but i couldn’t reconcile little issues in the vocals

[honeyvenommusic]

my god. so i’m working on a single i wanted to put out 1.5 years ago lol (surprise) but really wanted to give more to it but just didn’t have the means and man….

retrieving vocal stems from one DAW that only allowed me 8 tracks like i knew i was making it work with whatever i had and that sometimes meant bass sharing a track with vocals sharing a track with bg vocals sharing a- 😭

and now i’m crying (bc i have to sort it out but that’s also bc) damn we really were living in squalor had to give myself a little kiss bc damn you really made that work babes i’m astonished and it still sounded dynamic and great i really took time to calculate what effects would work overall on a track with whatever i had on it it had to work across the board and it still sounded good eye- now i’ve just started a new DAW like a month+ ago (still holding my head whenever i need to add a new track just waiting for the other shoe…) but i’m already feeling less stressed (miss some definite things so i’ll be back to start something or add something and then move to the other but ehh we’ll make it work like we are now)

[minalblood]

Ok this isnt my usual way of doing things cuz... Well, tbh i dont really care enough to actually make a post bout most things, id just rather reblog shit, but I've now seen several posts comparing the Loki finale with spn's and just... Where?

Spn ended as a show with one of the most hopelessness inducing shit I've ever seen, taking a character thats been consistently seen as at the very least depressed and killing him off with a 'that's what his happy ending looks like' plastered on it, another character who's whole ark was reconciling with himself about who he is only to make him essentially cut half of himself out for a kid and also still be unhappy, and a third who's whole thing was learning what free will is and that he too deserves free will only to have him go back to obeying orders in heaven. It was absolutely against everything the show had portrayed for 15 years, including in the actual season this finale was a part of.

Loki is an on going show (s 2 confirmed), but even if it hadn't been, the shows main narrative themes remained true to the end, Loki did in fact grow as a character, the shows ultimate plot is about free will, tackling also the fact that free will means shit will also happen, its not only roses and happiness and Sylvie stuck to her actual goal and achieved it, aka killing whoever was behing the TVA. Loki's goal throughtout the show wasn't killing the Time keepers, it was having the free will to write his own life story and he's done and doing exactly that, sometimes that means shit happens, no characters died needlessly in my opinion and as I've said, in no way did it go against its own themes that it established initially. Not to mention the fact again that it's ongoing!

Finally to touch on what people are really complaining about (the more vocal post I've seen circulating, I've no doubt some people just genuinely didn't like it and thats fine) which is the Sylvie/Loki thing. Ok lets discuss. Firstly, if it's not ur thing that's entirely fine, its not mine either, but to claim it's a problem for u cuz it's, as Ive seen multiole people say, heteronormative is hella problematic to me since it seems to erase the fact that both characters by their own words are bi/pan. That's shitty. Number 2: 'if Sylvie was male presenting they wouldn't have gone there'... Now while I do think Marvel/Disney wouldnt likely have the balls, I still find issue with this statement since it feels very... Sexist to me. I dunno what exactly about it, but it very much reads like y'all would not complain bout the pairing if Sylvie was male presenting more so than a dig at Marvel/Disney and that is not cool with me. And finally, C the selfcest thing as incest stand-in. Ok so I get that selfcest aint for everyone, which again, fair point if u just dont vibe at all, but the actual issues people seem to have is less with it being selfcest and more that its not mlm, which is highly hypocritical. Now to the people who do just dislike it for being basically incest, ur perogative, ur view , but I'd've hoped that the whole multivers aspect of this show could've made it clearer that while they are variants of each other they are not actually the same person. Also also since the spn parallel is what began this, to the spn fans I ask, how tf can y'all not see this, the multuple versions of Sam and Dean alone should have you realize it's someones history, experience, surroundings, accuaintances that mould a person. We don't even know for sure if they share parents! Its a dif universe they've been born in, oddly enough that means they couldn't be more physically different, even if they may share some personality traits or some history between them. Again, i dont ship it, it feels awkward to me based on their interactions, but that doesnt mean imma say some bullshit bout incest just cuz I dont like the idea. Fact is they're not actually related and, as an aside, the would u fuck ur clone talk has been around for ages with little issues about incest because its already covered in the meme as is the pollar opposite.

Ok this was rambly and well, hopefully some of my points have been made clear. To end I just wanna say I do look forward to season 2, I can't wait to see Mobius and Loki reacquaint now that we have a Mobius that doesnt remember/know Loki it'll be a nice juxtapose to their relation this season (yes i ship it, whatever) and also also wanna see what's gonna happen with Kang overall and with Sylvie. She wasn't having a good time there.

Edited below:

So quick add, I just realised why the comparison fucks with me so much more than other shit and it's cuz it reduces both finales to shipping, thats why it annoys me, it essentially undermines Loki's whole arc and reduces it to shipping and it also undermines just how bad spn ended and why its bad since it also reduces it to a ship. Neither are bad or good because of a ship being canon or not on its own and seeing this comparison makes it seem very much like thats the reason spn ended bad and equally makes Loki ending bad because of course it would if the ship didnt go the way you wanted it. But thats not the way to measure a show like Loki or Spn, or at least def not the only measurement to apply for the end conclusion.

[akira-emberheart]

songs I’d like to assign to the glee kids (part II)

Read Part I (for Kurt Hummel)

I’d like to start by letting you know that I’m not done with songs for Kurt. Oh no. There are more to come. I just feel it will be best to introduce others as well, since my list is not exactly complete or in some sort of specific order, and I’ll easily keep adding more songs.

Apologies for any spelling mistakes and canon misconceptions - I watched Glee last year and some seasons stuck in my head more than others. Here we go!

for Blaine Anderson

> Piece by Piece by Kelly Clarkson

"He takes care of me He loves me Piece by piece, he restored my faith That a man can be kind and a father could stay"

I heard this one for the first time in Jenna Ushkowitz’s voice, and for that reason I did think about it for Tina, because it sounded wonderful. But then it made so much sense for Blaine, and his voice would flow beautifully, making a beautiful scene of him singing this to Kurt.

We don’t really know much about Blaine’s relationship with his family, much less with his dad, unfortunately. The few canon pieces we have is that he wasn’t super accepting of his sexual orientation, and that he (possibly?) left his mom around S6. Without much info, I usually don't like headcanoning that he was a terrible father - parenting is hard, and you’re bound to make mistakes. With the very scarce hints we had from other tidbits over the series, I’m headcanoning that Blaine’s father is rather absent, and not so readily accepting of Blaine as a person, but at the same time not a terrible, abusive parent. Still, after observing Kurt’s relationship with Burt, I believe Blaine must have felt at least some jealousy, and that surely, when Klaine would be to have their own kids, Blaine would steer clear of acting like his father did.

This song, lyrically, takes us to a much more dramatic and negative experience, and for that reason, doesn’t seem to fit perfectly with this relationship. But emotionally, I think Blaine would definitely hear this song and feel something. Maybe after a less than pleasant conversation with his dad, or after spending some time with Kurt and his family and feeling like he was deprived of a good relationship with his own father.

So for this song, it would probably have to happen in a non canon scene, as I said, maybe after a fight with his dad. I also like this one to be sung in an assignemnt for Glee club, in the choir room, directed at Kurt. Quiet instrumentals, just sung over a piano like Darrren Criss does so well. Kurt and everyone would tear up.

***

> Oceans by Seafret

“It feels like there’s oceans

between you and me once again

we hide our emotions under the surface

and try to pretend”

There are a lot of songs that I can choose for Klaine’s breakup and their time apart - this one speaks to me a little differently.

Oceans is about distance. Physical, emotional - here’s no difference here. It’s about a relationship that isn’t exactly falling apart, but somehow drifting away in the distance.

In the beginning of S4, we see Kurt move to New York (pushed by Blaine), and slip into this whirlwind of a new busy life - while Blaine stays at McKinley, finishing high school in his small town life. It’s a hard balance to maintain, long distance is hard, and with everything keeping him so busy, Kurt ends up distancing himself, even though it’s not on purpose.

We see Blaine feeling lonely and left behind, and that’s exactly where this song would fit. Oceans lives a lot from the amazing vocals, so that woudn’t be an issue for Blaine at all.

I would imagine this one being sung more or less when he did “Barely Breathing” with Finn - as he considers his feelings, his relationship, going through his day to day feeling that Kurt is unreacheable (which, as we see from those phone calls, he kinda is).

“we hide our emotions under the surface

and try to pretend”

There’s also a lot of pretending everything is fine, when it really isn’t. Blaine could have tried to have an honest conversation with Kurt about how he was feeling, and about their relationship, but instead, he stayed in his corner, maybe thinking things would change, maybe witing for Kurt to realize. And as time passed, as Blaine felt more and more alone (and eventually made that mistake that led to their breakup), their relationship grows more and more distant.

***

> Always by Panic! At The Disco

“When the world gets too heavy

Put it on my back,

I’ll be your levy.

You are taking me apart

Like bad glue on a get well card.”

I am very into Blaine singing Panic! At The Disco songs - solely because his voice would fit so, so well.

This song initially made me think about how devoted and careful Blaine is with Kurt - mainly because of that first lyric. The immediate image that popped into my head was of Kurt arriving to the New York apartment after a workday, tired, and Blaine just being there, with dinner ready, ready to take care of him and make it all better.

But upon closer inspection, that’s not really what the song is about. The lyrics seem to describe someone who is deeply, irreversibly in love with someone who just doesn’t really reciprocate, or at least someone who does not answer similarly.

With this in mind, I actually have a very specific time that this song would fit in very well - the back half of S4, when Blaine and Kurt have somewhat reconciled, are friends, have even hooked up a number of times. But that’s not enough for Blaine - he wants a relationship, like they had before he made that mistake. Kurt isn’t there quite yet - and at that point, Blaine wonders if he’d ever be. Cheating is a hard thing to get over. Even if they had hooked up, Blaine couldn’t be sure Kurt would really want a serious relationship with him again.

So I would picture him singing this around that time - he’s available for Kurt, he isn’t giving up, and he’s still giving him all his love and care and attention, waiting for the day Kurt will will want the same as him.

***

> Impossible Year by Panic! At The Disco

“There’s no sunshine

This impossible year

Only black days and sky grey

And clouds full of fear”

Another one by Panic! At the Disco. Once again, Blaine’s voice would absolutely kill in this song - we all know the power of Blaine and a piano.

I love this song. In short, it’s about bad times, in a depressing and dramatic way.

I see Blaine singing this one shortly after the Break Up with Kurt - either one of them. Because in both situations he is in a really bad place, lonely, depressed, and just lost the love of his life. So it’s up to you when Blaine goes to the lonely piano in the auditorium and performs alone, to the empty chairs and dim lights.

***

> Us by James Bay

"So tell me how to be in this world Tell me how to breathe in and feel no hurt Tell me how 'cause I believe in something I believe in us"

Admittedly, I have way too many angsty songs for Blaine.

This song fits very well into Blaine's vocal ability. It seems to be about having someone very special to hold on to when everything else is falling apart.

I like this one for around S5EP16 - when Blaine is struggling with body image and adjusting to New York life, and how different his relationship with Kurt is from when they were in high school. And because of how much his self image is crumbling as he doubts himself, that doubt bleeds into the relationship he has with the most important person in his life.

In the episode, if I remember correctly, after their heart to heart the next sceen they show of Blaine and Kurt is much more lighthearted, but in my head, this song would fit right after that talk - when Blaine realises he can't just keep bottling up his problems and doubts, and that Kurt will be there for him as he builds himself and his confidence back up.

[marcussour]

BTW, since it’s been already a week and since I guess it’s no longer a spoiler, I think it’s finally time to talk about Ahsoka and why her appearance in The Mandalorian was so disappointing.

First, a visual thing. This is how Ahsoka looks like in Star Wars Rebels (a show set 10 years before the events of The Mandalorian), where we last saw her:

And this is how she looks in The Mandalorian:

Even when taking into account the stylization that animation provides, the whole thing with her montrals (the togruta’s “horns”) is there to show the age and growth of the character. Ahsoka’s 41 y/o during The Mandalorian, which is older than what Shaak Ti was during Episode 3, and Shaak Ti looked like this:

Now, I understand that there’s a whole practicality reason behind the “shortening” of the montrals (apparently it had to do with confort and it’s appearance during action scenes), so you can kinda overlook it, but it still feels weird that Ahsoka in her early 40′s looked younger than when she was in her 30′s in Rebels.

Besides, if Disney has the money to digitally erase the “jeans dude” that they overlooked in the background of a scene 2 episodes ago, I’m pretty sure they could have fixed Ahsoka’s montrals during post-production so they looked better.

But beyond the whole appearance (which, like I said, can somewhat be overlooked), my biggest issues where related to the casting and characterization.

Starting by the casting, I know that Rosario Dawson was always the dreamed fan casting. Heck, it was even an option that I liked a couple of years ago, but all that changed the moment the transphobia allegations appeared and that many people kinda overlooked.

With independence of the rumors before this season regarding her apperance and casting, I was shocked to the mere idea that one of my favourite characters was going to be played by someone who had that cloud over them with allegations of physical and psychological violence related to transphobia.

Now, the fact that the person who made the allegations withdrew 18 of the 20 charges (without settlement), including all of those that are related to transphobic violence, changes the panorama somewhat, but the shroud of doubts will always remain (especially when we’re talking about accusations directed to a celebrity who happens to be dating an US senator) and that was always going to affect my reaction towards the episode.

Especially knowing that the social media vocal fan casting was the main reason why Dawson’s was given the role according to Dave Filoni. Because I guess people always assumed that Ashley Eckstein couldn’t play the character in live action, which I think is silly because look at this:

That’s Ashley cosplaying as Ahsoka and doing a magnificent job about it. If she could achieve this with only (expensive I asume) cosplay, imagine what LucasFilm could’ve done with the budget they have for the show. 

Especially because you not only prevent the issues regarding the casting, but also because Ashley’s already inside the mind of the character having played it for 12 years; and also because her voice for the character is really special.

Even if she was Anakin’s padawan, in a way she’s also like the daughter or little sister of Anakin, Obi-Wan and Padme. She’s learned and absorbed things from the 3 of them and her voice, especially in Rebels, reflects that. There’s a calm born from experience, and a special type of solemnity and gravitas, and there’s this hint of pride and arrogance (like Maul’s told her during their fight during the siege of Mandalore in Clone Wars).

And, with exception of the scenes where Ahsoka was testing Grogu Baby Yoda and helping Din connect with him, I never felt that in any other part of the episode. And that’s something that goes hand in hand with the characterization problems.

Sure, the show gives you the idea that she’s been for quite some time trying to liberate Corvus, and you can understand that they did things the way they did during their introduction to awe the audience (especially the one that never saw the animated shows), but it’s hard to reconcile her introduction with the Ahsoka we knew beforehand.

In fact, to me the “real” Ahsoka doesn’t appear until the scene where Magistrate Morgan Elsbeth threatens her with the amount of innocent people she’s going to kill in case Ahsoka kept opposing her. Because that’s Ahsoka to me, the one that puts the safety and well being of others above her own all the time. The Ahsoka that, even when she was in dire danger during order 66, never stopped caring and thinking about the wellbeing of the clones that, beyond being her subordinates, she saw them as her brothers. That’s her character’s essence, and while we saw some of it, it just wasn’t enough.

The other big problem I think with her characterization is her refusal to train Baby Yoda considering his attachment towards Mando and how that can end badly, because she saw it first hand with regards to Anakin (yes, it was one heck of a scene I’ll admit, but in the great context it feels weird).

Obviously there’s a practic reason why they won’t do it (of course the show is not going to get rid of Baby Yoda), but it feels weird when Ahsoka is supposedly in the middle of the search for Ezra and Thrawn (I know that there’s been some talk or rumors of a retcon where the Rebels epilogue, that happened before the events of the Mandalorian, is supposedly going to be placed further down the line, in order to have a new show where Ahsoka and Sabine are looking for Ezra, but that hasn’t been confirmed). 

Yes, I know that it was part of Baby Yoda’s journey and whether he ends up on the light or dark side, but the whole talk about attachment feels like something the padawan Ahsoka from the first seasons of Clone Wars would say, not the Ahsoka that left the jedi order, that saw how the rest of the galaxy lived and thought of the jedi, and that knew that, despite Palpatine’s work, the jedi had a lot to blame regarding being architects of their own demise. There are plenty of similarities between Ahsoka’s and Luke’s thoughts in The Last Jedi, in regards of the jedi and the conceptual failures in their reasoning before order 66.

So to see Ahsoka in The Mandalorian being so “binary” in her way of thinking, so black and white, so “jedi”, felt like a regression of her character development. Of course, something could’ve happened to her after Ezra saved her through the World between Worlds, and then after the Rebels epilogue, but until we don’t know for sure, it felt like a step back for her growth, especially considering how many people where introduced to her through The Mandalorian, it’s kinda of a disservice to the character (here’s hoping that enough people check Clone Wars and Rebels to see the real character journey that she went through).

So, that’s it. I’ve been wanting to write this down for days. Because even though the episode was really good, there were enough reasons and things that made it impossible for me to enjoy it as much as I would’ve like in other circumstances. Yes, there were some things that I’ve been able to rationalize and understand after the episode aired, but I’m never getting my first impression back. 

Ahsoka is one of my favourite characters of everything (I’m pretty sure that, if it weren’t for the childhood nostalgia regarding having seen the OT when I was a child -and being obsessed with SW ever since- she would probably be above Luke in my list of favourite characters), and Clone Wars was a really important show for me (after Empire Strikes Back, is my favourite Star Wars anything).

And I can’t just conform or be happy with her appearance in this episode. The whole “just being there” is not enough, especially when you see how characters like Bo-Katan, Cobb Vanth or Boba Fett were all given their due and well portrayed in a great light, but you can’t say the same about a character that’s more important, and who sadly had this whole cloud surrounding it since the first casting rumours appeared.

Ahsoka is a character that represents the best of Star Wars, so it’s sad to see that her appearance and portrayal not only was dissapointing, but it ended up hurting so many people in the LGBTQA+ community, and especially in the trans community, many of whom are Star Wars fans that have the same passion and love for Ahsoka. And like I said the other day, the trans community concerns must be front and center and must be listened by everyone.

[unluckyadept]

Character Journal Entry: Felix

{Wednesday, June 10th 2020T}

Speaking when blinded by anger is always a mistake. It is oppressively difficult to maintain the willpower to make good choices—even in cases where there is enough presence of mind to correctly identify what the good choice is to begin with.

Speaking in pain, I have found, is more or less also always a mistake for me for the same reasons.

I have learned silence. I was taught silence. Silence is preferred. Submission is preferred. It is preferred over outbursts, most definitely—but also over the harsh intensity of pain.

In pain, I almost choose silence. It is safer, and I know from experience that I will regret voicing anything at all—if not out of shame, then out of utter humiliation.

=-=-=-=

[He gives something of a sigh, holding his face in his hands for a minute or so before continuing.]

=-=-=-=

But silence is not the right answer, and I have learned this. For one thing, it can come across as a punishment—and it also fundamentally shows a lack of trust. To some degree, it can be a lack of respect. Continued silence can be very unkind, when there is no indication as to what is wrong.

=-=-=-=

[He grips at his hair briefly, his handwriting becoming looser, larger, and harsher.]

=-=-=-=

Out of a series of poor choices, is it more of a mistake to continue in silence, when you have no idea how long it will last? Is it more of a mistake to continue in silence, never addressing the issue? Is it more of a mistake to continue in silence, choosing not to trust?

Or is it a greater mistake to speak in pain, even after hours and hours of parsing it down as much as you can to be as neutral as possible?

I don’t know if people in pain can be neutral. Pain serves a purpose, just as anger serves a purpose, and to ignore pain is not particularly healthy. To hide pain is not usually something I have success with… not with people who would notice the silence.

I cannot help but feel that silence is the lesser of two poor choices. It feels like it is less destructive.

=-=-=-=

[He was tempted to end it there, but he forced himself to continue even though he didn’t particularly want to do so.]

=-=-=-=

Mars is the element of passion; the passion for defending what is right, for serving those in need… to smother that inner fire is to choose indifference to injustice, indifference to suffering. That is being weak, at best.

When ordered to defend what is right, there are sacrifices to be made, and in dark times, those can be heavy sacrifices indeed. It is a bitter choice, to choose suffering over cowardice and worse.

But it is most definitely a mistake to take a stand against a third party who has not entered the conflict in any fashion.

Even when it feels like it. Rarely, it seems, do those who respect and care truly intend to 

=-=-=-=

[He paused, not quite sure how to finish that. Did it really matter, though? It was his mistake, regardless.]

=-=-=-=

Trusting someone else enough to face the issue, speak the truth, and respect the need for true justice… it’s important, but it just isn’t enough. There is no justification for unnecessary and unwarranted harshness that borders aggression. Even the failings embedded in scars of mental torment do not justify this.

We are responsible for the choices we make. Even when the only options are bad choices, I do not believe it exonerates bad behavior. No… we must all be responsible for our actions, and that means submitting to the truth and shouldering the consequences when we have done wrong.

It is certainly among the hardest things to do. The consequences persist regardless, but to accept responsibility is to {[submit/surrender]}. How else can I properly describe this—? When brought forward for judgment and sentenced for guilt, kneeling down to offer no resistance to the punishment inflicted—to be obedient, guilty as charged. It can feel very much the same way, to know you have done wrong and to fear the cost will carry such deep cost

=-=-=-=

[He stopped, pushing the journal away harshly for a moment rather than continue on in a spiraling sense of despair. No, he had to prevent that from becoming an inferno out of his control—or else he’d only be repeating the mistake.

Killing it off only left him tired. Tired, just as before.

He couldn’t even bear to look back anymore.

But that was rather the point, wasn’t it? He wasn’t strong enough to look back, when he should be at once seeking forgiveness—begging for something he didn’t deserve.

He felt more than a little trapped. He could only imagine—since he had so very little experience dealing with this sort of thing as an adult, and there had been no mercy from others when he was a boy, even a young man—that it would hardly be respectful to immediately turn back and ask that it all be brushed aside, that they show mercy and let it be. Surely, after his restraint had buckled, they wouldn’t be too eager to see him so soon.

But it was just as true that forgiveness was not something that could be earned. It could only be given freely. Fearing the worst was no excuse for cowardice on his part.

Because it was also true that even though others had been unkind in the past, and HE could SERIOUSLY hold a grudge—for years and years, especially if left with nothing but bitter pain in the wake of a rift that could not be reconciled—it did not mean that he should automatically judge that others would be quite that resentful.

He did want to trust, and knew that he needed to at the very least DIRECTLY acknowledge he had been harsh—and more likely than not, outright hurtful—but he was torn whether to be hopeful or not.

All he really knew for sure was that he was once AGAIN learning the HARD way, and that more than anything else right now, he wanted reconciliation.

He could dwell on that further, but it seemed wrong, somehow, to allow himself to visualize something based on an assumption of any sort of positive or neutral progression in the matter. He also knew he couldn’t vocalize the torment any further; a guilty conscience was the natural consequence of guilt, and that was something that he had earned by his deeds and honestly needed to bear privately out of obedience and responsibility.

None of his thoughts or feelings brought him any closer on what to do next. And that, indeed, was a weight that was quite crushing; he was going to have to make a guess, and once again accept the consequences should his guess be the wrong thing to do.

And he had to write it down. He needed to be sure to hold himself responsible, and to NOT allow himself to forget this lesson he was learning (again, probably) the hard way.]

[He just couldn’t forget that the last time it had gone even remotely like this, he had lost his best friends.

To lose someone else he cared about so deeply due to failing to show respect by exercising proper restraint—well.

It was best not to dwell on that any further. 

Whatever happened next… he could dwell on that and reflect on it later.

For now, he needed to muster up the strength to face what he had done—because that was the right thing to do.]

[jerepars]

Shattered Extended Story Notes

1/1 Darkness and Light

Hyperlinks appear in blue (underlined on mobile). The story is posted here.

This is a follow-up of sorts to Steady. It will still make sense if you don’t read that one, though this does call back and make reference to that story a few times.

Whether Teresa knew James or could trust him after a long absence remained to be seen. But one thing she knew for sure, from all the time she’d spent around James before, was that he wasn’t ruthless. Some narcos enjoyed taking lives, took pleasure in it, but James didn’t. Sure, there were those he’d had no problem eliminating—those who got in the way of business (most of James’ feelings of distaste for people were business-related)—but he preferred there not be so many casualties, especially bystanders. He did it for the job, for the wagon he’d hitched himself to, but never for pleasure. Teresa knew James buried his humanity so far deep so no one else would find it—so even he could barely recognize it anymore—but he still had it, so he knew the weight of taking a life. A little girl, an innocent, that would have been so much for James, would have burned him up inside.

I think James’ humanity and the fact that he isn’t a cold-hearted killer (as someone in his position is supposed to be) is best shown in 1x12, when he has to deal with DEA Don to give up the location of the safehouse where Boaz is being held. His face when Camila says “just do it” (around 3:31 of the episode, if you have it on Netflix) is really telling, because he knows it’s over for Don. At around 3:46, James says “please don’t make me do this”. I find the framing on that shot interesting, because the camera is in close on his face, we don’t see the reactions of any of his crew, and James doesn’t look anywhere else but Don until the last second...like it’s a moment of honesty. 

Also, after James nods for Don to be taken out, he turns away and we don’t see his face when Don gets shot. We don’t see it until the moment after and James is processing what just happened and what needs to be done next. Seems very intentional on the part of the writers and director for James’ character-building.

Hearing the recount from James of what happened in Texas told Teresa what she needed to do. That was what she’d been focused on and was thinking about, trying to filter out Devon’s spiel as he went on. She wasn’t really listening to Devon; she wouldn’t have given James up to Devon no matter what he said. But she’d told James to get Ivan to work his magic online before she walked into the winery—and she’d sent them a signal, looking up to one of the surveillance cameras—so what she needed was time to stall, to prevent more bloodshed after they’d just set up shop in Phoenix and were on shaky ground with La Comisión.

I watched this scene (1:05) so many times in order to try and break it down for this part of the story. Teresa does look at Devon and James, but for a lot of it, she’s looking down, like she’s assessing the situation in the little time she has. To me it makes sense that she was really thinking about how she and James (and Kelly Anne) are going to get out of the mess they’re in since later she says “I’m not gonna let him take you.” Her mind was already made up and she was only mildly paying attention to what Devon said about James being the worst.

Instead of bullets flying, they got a hail Mary. Ivan used the online presence of Devon’s sister to figure out the two of them had a mother, alive and well. Lil’ T found her singing gospel hymns in a church. Devon lost the upper hand right there, lost his bargaining chip, and packed up his team once it was the life of his beloved on the line. Devon left with the promise of chaos in his eyes, like they’d bargained with the devil to be okay for the day, but would still have business to settle down the road.

Because of the mention of saving James for his soul later in the story, when I wrote that part it prompted me to think of the Jewel song “Who Will Save Your Soul” and the line that goes so you bargain with the devil but you’re okay for today. I’ve always really liked that part of the song, which might be ironic because I don’t even think that’s what the original lyric in the song was (I feel like I’ve read before that Jewel’s label made her change some of the lyrics for the album recording?) and Jewel always sings the song a bit differently in live versions, so it might be the one and only instance where she ever sang that line in the song.

The Devon problem was solved for the time being, but it didn’t put the million shattered pieces of James back together.

The story is named after “Shattered” by Saves the Day. There are small references to it throughout the story. Be forewarned that if for some reason you feel compelled to listen to it, the vocals on this are shrill and grating.

Many times James and Teresa had gotten into situations where they relied on one another to make it through. She remembered shooting the guy from Florida, because they had a job to do for Camila, and he’d seen James’ face in the ambush on the highway. She remembered going back for James after their rendezvous with the feds in the arena parking structure in downtown Dallas and following tire tracks to the militia camp in the desert. She also remembered what James had done for her—he hadn’t been wrong in Malta when he said he’d tried to keep her alive, so many times. She also recalled the times James had saved her in a different way, let her keep her conscience, lying for her when the maid disappeared, and taking care of El Contador, bringing the bloody bag of money back to Camila’s after it was done.

Going back to what is said earlier about James’ humanity and him not being ruthless, I think it’s interesting that James seems to have less issue with the difficult things he has to do when he’s cleaning up for Teresa’s actions. Like in 2x02, when Camila is talking to Teresa about the missing bag of money. When the scene flashes to James, the body language and look on his face is different than in the 1x12 scene with DEA Don. When he gets back to the house and says “we’re good now, right?” (1:33) and looks at Teresa, twice, there’s implication that he did that for her, to save her in more ways than one.

Camila says, “Your mistake cost a life. James just fixed it. That’s loyalty.” (1:45) Sure, he does it for Camila and the business, to protect all of them. But really, specifically, who is he protecting and being loyal to when he does it? 

Whether or not he’d earned her trust since being back, Teresa couldn’t deny James meant something to her. She loved him—that was something she’d figured out on the boat ride after Bolivia, when she woke up in El Santo’s sanctuary after her hallucination of kissing James, feeling safe with him, and him losing blood in her arms. They’d gone through even more after Bolivia, in Chicago, at the train depot, with the Vargas family in Mexico, in Malta, and earlier in the day at the winery. James always protected her, always saved her, even when it danced the line of lying and betrayal, because he believed he was doing it for her. The last time they’d spoken before Malta, on the train car, he’d said you can’t save me, Teresa, you can’t save any of us. But after learning what happened with Devon, in the time in between, she couldn’t accept that kind of defeat anymore. Now, Teresa needed to save James. For his soul, not for business.

Teresa knowing here that she loves James is a call back to the very last line in Steady.

In 3x02 and 3x03 James tells both Teresa and Pote that he never betrayed them, he was loyal to Camila. And as far as the El Santo money goes, in 2x13, when Guero shoots at James (around 30:03 of the episode), he says “If I give her that money, she’s gonna have a foothold in this business, and you and I both know how that ends.” 

Personally, I find the premise of whether or not James is trustworthy in S3 really annoying. Like what exactly does James have to do to prove himself to you people? But I get it, I’m in the audience, so I see everything, not like the characters. So anyway, if the narration in the story is specific to Teresa’s thoughts, then I suppose the way to reconcile James' lying and “betrayal” is because he’s trying to protect her when he does it. He says that directly to Teresa, too, in 3x02, when they’re arguing after she calls Rocco. “I didn’t betray you, I was protecting you.” “I didn’t want your protection.”

I mean, okay, T-rex. But you’re lucky James has your back even when you don’t want him to.

Early on, when they’d first started working together, James had used a metaphor about caves and learning to live in the dark, all survival instinct. And because she knew James wasn’t as closed off as he appeared to be on the surface, because the good in him was lurking beneath, Teresa had long acknowledged James’ decision to live his life in the dark was because too much light was dangerous for someone like him. So Teresa felt partly responsible. So then it was on her. She was the one who’d kept pulling him out of the cave, who let too much light in. And he was shattered because of it.

The part about too much light being dangerous for James is, again, a reference back to Steady.

For a second Teresa thought she’d gotten through to James, using his own words on him. He looked like he was on the verge of tears, and Teresa would have welcomed that, to hold him and share his sorrow. But there was a flash of darkness in his eyes and he retreated back into the depths of himself that were an endless sea of black water, like Suzie and his demons and his guilt were crying please don’t forget about me.

“I don’t deserve that,” he said instead, like he’d already spent too much time looking in the mirror lately and shot out the glass when he couldn’t stand what he saw, deemed himself unworthy of any absolution.

Part of the chorus in “Shattered” goes: The mirror is on the floor, shattered, a million eyes are crying, please, please don’t forget about me. I hadn’t heard this song in a while when I started writing the story, but I knew immediately that I was going incorporate it into the part where James says “I don’t deserve that” when I heard it.

I believe the million eyes in the song are actually referring to the artist seeing their own reflection in the broken glass of the shattered mirror. 

James’ vulnerability and self-loathing made Teresa’s heart clench. To see him broken down and defeated broke her up inside a little bit, too. After learning about what he’d done, and even with the uncertainty between them, Teresa didn’t love James any less.

The last line is purely because of the Said the Whale song “Loveless,” and the part that goes how could I love you less, now that I know you more?

They’d always been in it together, ever since he’d looked at her with his emotions in his eyes, telling her he wouldn’t have another dead drug mule on his watch. Once she’d told him that’s not who I am, that’s not who I want to become in anger, because they’d watched a man die without doing anything about it and he’d said too late. He hadn’t been wrong then either. They’d done a lot for survival, for business, for each other. Teresa thought James to be inherently good while having to do bad things. She wasn’t much different, not anymore. As much as she tried to stay a better path than those in the business who came before her, she, too, felt like she was elbows deep in blood sometimes. So if James didn’t deserve to be freed from the guilt and shame he’d racked himself with, where did that leave her? Where did that leave anyone, really?

To me (and maybe only me), it’s important that Teresa has some recognition of the fact that there was a price to pay to get her to this point, rising to become the leader of her own operation. She’s not the same person as she was in 1x06, on her moral high ground, telling James she’s better than what she did (or didn’t do?) because of him (0:35). In her rise to the top, there’s blood on her hands, too, and it isn’t just because of James or Camila or Epifanio. 

With James and Teresa on the same level, then, the song reference in this paragraph is indirect. In Daphne Loves Derby’s “Patterns and How They Change the Visible World,” it’s asked is there a reason why the rain only falls on your head? and if you don’t deserve to be happy, why would I? 

The very first time I watched this scene and James said “I don’t deserve that” those lyrics popped into my head.

Kissing James was a much more intense experience than it had been in her hallucination. That had been comfortable and comforting. Kissing James in reality, though tender, was hypnotizing and desperate. James kissed Teresa like he was going to lose her, like she would slip through his fingers and float out into the ether if their lips weren’t touching for more than a second and if he wasn’t holding her.

I don’t want to lose you, he’d told her months ago, on George’s boat after she’d secured the connection with El Santo. It was the one and only time they’d ever gotten close to acknowledging how they felt about each other. Every single feeling they’d ever had for one another remained unresolved, even when they crossed another boundary and blurred another line as they kissed.

It is The Gaslight Anthem’s “The ‘59 Sound” that the line when we float out into the ether, into the everlasting arms comes from. Also, in a more literal sense, since we learned in S2 that El Santo’s product is washed in ether, it felt very fitting.

James definitely does not say “I don’t want to lose you” in canon. That’s the last line of dialogue from Steady, one of the factors that helps Teresa figure out she loves James.

Teresa had noted James’ frame was bigger back when he showed up in Malta, and she was better able to appreciate it with his shirt off. After learning of his work with Devon, she wondered if it was because of that—to more easily do the things he’d had to do—or if he’d gotten bigger and stronger in reaction to what he’d done, physical challenge for relief from the actions that made him want to carve out his own lungs.

The album “Shattered” is on, Sound the Alarm, though upbeat in sound is actually really dark. One of the other songs on there is “Eulogy”. I’d burn up to see you again. I’ll carve out my lungs and it’s all just to see you again. Feels pretty spot on for James, because he’d probably rather be the one burned or carved up rather than Suzie at this point. 

(Again, warning that the vocals on this are super shrill.)

Also, I’m not the only one who sees how much bigger James/Peter is in S3, right? Compare his arms in 1x11 when he’s waiting for Kim to meet him at the trailer to 3x04 when Teresa asks him if he can set up a meeting with La Comisión (6:51 to 7:16 of the episode).

So Teresa liked that James was still the same, still himself in bed. She liked that there were stumbling blocks—awkward yet practical ones—from their first kiss to laying together. It reminded her to take in the moment, because it wasn’t dreamlike but it was real, and James always anchored her to reality, kept her steady without needing to filter through rose-colored glasses.

This kind of sums up what it is about the Jeresa dynamic that I love so much. I intentionally made sure to make no mention of Guero and the dreamy quality Teresa associated him with. Being a dreamer, having dreams of a “perfect” future with someone is great. But Jeresa is real.

James settled over Teresa at last, hands combing up the side of her body, leaving her shivering in the wake. He ran his thumb down her jawline from her chin towards her ear, then sunk his fingers into her hair, rubbing a few curly locks between his thumb and forefinger. He seemed confident not long before, taking Teresa over the edge, but down to nothing else in between them except for boundaries crossed, he seemed anxious.

In the hallucination with the ‘kiss’ in 2x06, James has his fingers in Teresa’s hair (1:45) before they hug. I wanted to make parallels to the actions and the words said.

There was something about the way James swore, always with intent and passion behind it, that moved something inside of Teresa. It made her feel heat on every pore of her skin, like those expletives were his pheromones. Hearing him swear on her account, because of her, it goaded her on.

Seriously though, why is it so delicious whenever James swears? All of the ones from the Bolivia episodes are great, but I think my favorite is in 2x03, before he headbutts Pete (1:25). I would not be opposed to James dropping an f-bomb in every episode of S5, tbh.

[kihyuni3]

Seventeen (Vocal Unit) Reaction to Their S/O Flinching During a Fight

Okay, wowie it’s been a long time but here we are back at it again. Gonna finish up this series because I love it. Even though reading/writing angst makes me super sad. Sorry if I’m rusty everyone, I’ll try my best.

~Izzy

Warning(s): There is no actual domestic abuse depicted in this reaction but it could possibly be triggering still to those readers

Hip Hop Unit

Jeonghan: Jeonghan always strikes me as the kind of person who is super caring. So even though the two of you would be in a heated argument, he would still be very aware of your condition. He would be upset and angry, but even in this kind of situation, nothing mattered to him more than your well being.

An argument started when the two of you were playing around and having a little banter. The mood was lighthearted and playful and he took it just a little too far. Usually, this wouldn't be that big of a deal seeing as your relationship was one where you were both very open and could talk about things like this. However, tonight for some reason Jeonghan couldn’t see the issue in what he had said even after you said it was hurtful. Somehow this back and forth escalated into a full screaming match where both of you were accusing the other of many different things. Because neither of you fought much in this relationship neither of you knew how to back down. That was until JeongHan went to run his fingers through his hair and he watched you flinch away from him, fear evident in your behavior and body language.

Immediately the caring and loving man you knew would return. Not only was he deeply concerned for you at this moment but also he was disappointed in himself for letting the argument get the best of him and impeding on his abilities to care for you. He would approach you slowly and gently in an attempt to show that his intentions were nothing but kind and apologetic. He would take you in his arms and shush you trying to calm you and quell your fear. The argument could be sorted out later if that’s what you two wanted, but right now what was important to him was making sure that you were okay. 

“I’m so sorry baby. Let’s just take it easy okay? Do you need anything?”

Joshua: Josh seems to me like someone who is very level headed in most situations. However, he is also very passionate that’s why when he sometimes gets too emotional about something he can take it too far. This includes things like arguments.

Josh had just gotten back from a long schedule which included and Inkigayo performance. One in which he had not only messed up the new choreo, but also one of his vocal lines. He had been working for a long time on this comeback so this fluke would really be eating at him. When he came home he would just brush you off and go on to do his own thing. You would try to approach him a few times, but he was not having it at all. After the sixth attempt to interact with your boyfriend he would snap. It was less f an argument and more of him just yelling at you. He was screaming about things that weren’t even relevant to the situation, but he couldn’t stop himself. He didn’t even realize how far he had taken it until he went to quickly move past you and you scurried away from you clearly panic-ridden with tear streaks down your face. 

He would realize how badly he had messed up, but he would still have a hard time calming himself down due to his earlier episode. Josh wouldn’t want you to ever think that he would do anything like that to you, but since he was still so heated he knew he just had to leave the entire situation. He would utter a very curt but sincere apology before excusing himself to another room or maybe even leave the apartment completely. It’s not that he wouldn’t want to fix it, of course he did, but first, he knew he had to calm himself down before he caused any more problems.

“I’m sorry. I’ll make this better when I come back.”

Woozi/Jihoon: Woozi seems like the kind of guy who would rarely show any anger towards his partner. Not that he would never be upset with them, there were definitely times when he was, but he would always talk it out with them in a calm way instead of resorting to yelling. He would have to be extremely upset or in a very bad mood before he resorted to arguing or yelling. 

Woozi had been at the studio for almost 24 hours because of the upcoming comeback. Although deadlines were rapidly approaching, he still had yet to compose anything that he or the company thought was good enough to work with. This was taking a real toll on his mental state. He decided to take a break from composing and return home for a while to clear his head. However, you weren’t aware of the situation and assumed he had finally been able to get a song out and approved. Your immediate questioning about the new song really got under his skin and caused him to blow up on you. He would scream at you for being inconsiderate and nosy and continued to barrad you for a long time before he realized what he was doing. He would stop yelling and go to move toward you, but when you flinched back away from him that’s when the severity of the situation would really set in.

Although he is usually very good at adapting to different situations and overcoming adversities, this was one situation where he had no idea what to do. He would remain completely still for a while trying to figure out how to fix this. After a few minutes of excruciating silence passed he would explain everything to you and apologize without trying to get any closer to you. He would want to give you space and time before he tried anything more, but he knew this was all his fault and he would be willing to do anything to fix it.

“I don’t know what to say. I’m so sorry this is all my fault. I can go back to the studio if you want, I understand.”

DK/Seokmin: Although DK is a very cheerful and sociable person there are definitely times when he needs time to himself. After a hard day or something, he seems like the person to want to be on his own to recharge. It’s not that he didn’t want to see you, but he wanted to always be his best for you and didn’t want you to see him when he was down.

It had been a particularly difficult day for Seokmin and all he wanted to do was be on his own for a while to recharge. He hadn’t realized that you were home so when he got back and saw you he tried to hide his tired demeanor and be happy for you. However, this also took a toll on him, things that were normally fine and fun for him were really bothering him and getting more and more frustrated until the both of you got into an argument seemingly out of nowhere. All of his tiredness and frustration would come out on you making him say things that he didn’t mean. The argument would just continuously add on to his already foul mood until he couldn’t take it anymore. However, when he balled up his fists and made a groan of frustration causing you to turn away in fear he would realize what he had done. 

Seokmin’s features would soften as all his frustrations disappeared and he became only aware of his growing worry for you. When you turned around he would be kneeling on the ground near you with sad eyes and his hands reached out in a sort of peace offering. He was prepared to do anything to make it up to you, but he also knew that if you wanted to leave him he would have to be prepared for that as well.

“I’m so sorry. This is all my fault. I know you’re not going to want to stay, but please, please give me one more chance to make things right.”

Seungkwan: To me, SeungKwan seems like the type to get into little arguments when he’s upset about things, but never would he try to escalate things. Even if he knew that if he pushed a little harder he would win the argument, he wouldn’t try it because he knows how that might affect you and he would never want you to get hurt because of him.

It had been a day where the other Seventeen members had been teasing Seungkwan quite a lot. While he would never let them know that it actually got to him, in reality, it very much got under his skin. So when he got to your apartment and you made one small joke, he would get really upset. The only reason he even considered escalating this argument is cause he was already upset from before, but as soon as he did it he realized that it was a mistake. The screaming match that started was something he never wanted but didn’t know how to take back. He was so desperate to stop this fight that at one point he reached out to grab your wrist in almost a silent plea. 

When you ripped your arm away from his grasp fear painted across your face he would be completely shocked. Not only did he not know what to do at all to reconcile the situation, but he would also get so mad at himself for even letting you get to a place where you thought he would hit you. His emotions got the better of him and he would break down into tears immediately going to you. He wouldn’t know what to do other than apologize in between cries.

 “I’m sorry.....I’m so sorry......”

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[seromreven]

title: i’ll take you there | prologue.

pairing: paul mccartney/female!reader/linda mccartney.

summary: the year is 1974. You’re the personal assistant of Paul and Linda McCartney. One spring day you meet the rather infamous John Lennon during the middle of his ‘Lost Weekend’ escapades. Spark fly and secrets unfold between the two of you.

warning: it gets explicit at the end. the third  — indicates when it starts if it’s something you’d rather not read.

also posted on ao3.

Your first meeting with the McCartney couple was in the summer of ‘71.

It had been a warm, sweltering, London summer, spent inside the offices of Abbey Road Studios. You were the intern of executive producer Robert Hardwell. A large sneering man, always ready to patronise you at every move.

The internship wasn’t more than being an assistant and secretary to his every demand. But you were good at what you did. And knew that even though his insults stung, you weren’t about to leave; it was Abbey Road.

It had been the dream of yours to work there ever since you were very little. And now you were there! In the flesh! You had worked your skin to the bones to get this far and you weren’t about to throw it away because of that man.

It was a Thursday at the end of July when you were called in the office of Mr Hardwell. The clothes you wore to work, neat and professional, felt restricting in the heat. The air conditioning in the lobby having been broken for days by now with no turn up from the called repairmen.

You quickly took a sip of water before getting up from your work desk and knocked before entering his chill office.

“Yes, sir?”

He barely glanced up from the paperwork on his desk.

“You need to run down to Studio Three and check something for me. They seem to be having technical issues and I need the details promptly.”

“Right,” you nodded and stepped back out of the office.

You quickly made your way down to the studio. It didn’t take long. While you had worked there for not even half a year yet; you had become familiar with the layout of the large building pretty quickly. You stopped in front of the door to the control room.

From the other side, you could hear loud chatter and the taint banging on drums. You tried to recall who was using the studio but ultimately failed in the endeavour; it was not part of your duties to know anyhow.

You readied yourself before knocking on the wooden door and headed inside.

“Hello?” You said as you carefully stepped inside.

In the control room, there was three men and a woman. The men had their backs to you but the woman looked at you as you entered the room.

You immediately recognised her. It was Linda McCartney! And so you assumed the dark haired man near her, who was leaned over a control table, must be Paul; as you recognised the other two men who were now also looking at you.

You recognised them from the cafeteria and felt a dread creep in at the sight at one of them. A malnourished looking man with greased hair; a man who had on several occasions thrown inappropriate comments at you. His coworker was nice but completely clueless.

Your heart raced. You were never any good with crowds. And this wasn’t just any crowd. It included an ex-Beatle and his wife! Now you weren’t completely awestruck, having been nothing more but a casual fan during the mania, but was still feeling stunned in their presence.

Someone coughed and brought you back to reality. “Hi… I’m [full name], Mr Hardwell’s assistant. He sent me here to get him the… specifics of your technical difficulties.”

“Right,” Linda nodded and looked to Paul, who you now realised had been looking at you before glancing to his wife. Inside the studio, the drumming had stopped and you glanced through the window. Two men stood there. One behind the drumset, and one with a guitar in hand. The guitarist looked familiar but you couldn’t quite figure out why. Maybe another band?

“We’re, uh, not quite sure actually,” Paul spoke and you quickly looked to him, the beating of your heart picking up the pace again. He scratched the side of his nose looking like he was deep in thought, “we were just recording in the vocal booth when the power went out. But only in that room.” Linda nodded along to what he said.

That sounded familiar you thought, “oh!” You suddenly erupted as the answer came to you. The greasy haired man blinked in surprise. “We’ve had that problem before,” you grinned, enlivened, and stepped to the control board.

“We had the same problem last year when Cliff Richards was here to record Tracks ‘n Grooves, y’know. The power just went off and people ran around frantically for hours almost before we figured out it was because someone had turned on this,” you pointed to a small button, “which interferes with this,” you pointed to another similar one.

“They’re not supposed to be on at the same time which some people,” you glanced at your coworkers, “should know.”

You pulled back from the desk feeling proud. At being able to help them but also, that you had remembered that. It was well over a year ago, and you had been out drinking with a friend afterwards which resulted in a pretty tough morning after.

Paul flicked the switch to off and immediately you all saw the lights return in the vocal booth. You nodded with your hands on your hips, “yeah, it’s a strange technical hitch. I don’t know why they haven’t managed to fix it yet but, it’s not my field of expertise anyhow.”

Paul hmm’d and looked to you. “I’ve recorded here before and haven’t experienced it before.”

You smiled politely, “then you had some good technicians on your team,” and did your best not to cast a pointing glance at the Greasy Haired Man, which you had decided to nickname him as you didn’t actually know his name.

“Well, I best be off,” you left before anything else could be said and your excitement could get to you. Besides you had work to do. Work that actually fell under your jurisdiction. Technical mishaps didn’t.

You quickly reported back to Hardwell and got back to your work, but never getting your brief encounter with the McCartney’s out of your mind.

—

The next day, you came into the office drenched. That morning it had promised nothing but clear skies and sunny smiles but it hadn’t been long after you had left your apartment when rain erupted from the heavens above, almost like it was punishing you for your hubris in not bringing an umbrella.

You shook as you ran inside the studio building, cursing under your breath. The rainwater was warm and the office was humid from the still continuing lack of air conditioning. All pointed to a rather bad day.

You quickly placed your bag at your desk before running to the nearest bathroom to try and dry off your hair and whatever the best you could with your clothes. Your coat had taken most of the water but it still hadn’t been enough.

You couldn’t afford to spend much time during that as time neared the start of your workday and you reconciled with the best you could do in that time frame must be enough and went back to your desk.

The day passed quickly by without anything else noteworthy happening except for the poor start of the day.

It wasn’t before when you were just about to leave when a letter courier entered the room that you took a paused from packing your bag. You stopped, hand still in the purse, and stared blankly at the man.

He saw you and came to stand in front of the desk, “You Ms [full name]?”

You carefully nodded a ‘yes’ and was handed an envelope. As he left, you carefully studied the text on it. Your name and office address were written in neat cursive. You turned it over and it had nothing but ‘The McCartney’s’ written on the back.

It took you back and you went completely still. Why would they send you a letter? Why would they even contact you? And if they did, why do it this way when you didn’t even work that far from the studio they currently used?

Your hand shook as you opened up the envelope and pulled out the letter. Its paper was crisp and a soft beige. The neat handwriting before was repeated in the content of the letter.

It didn’t say much. They invited you to come eat dinner with them the next day at a vegetarian restaurant you were unfamiliar with in Covent Garden. It stated time and exact location of the restaurant and that it would be paid for by them. It was written that it would not be taken in ill health if you were not to show up.

And, well, how could you refuse that? It was the McCartneys and, more importantly, free food. You had this weekend off so it aligned well enough. You rushed out the door, excited for the day to come.

—

The weather wasn’t much of an improvement from the day before. But this time you had at least been prepared in equipping yourself with an umbrella and a smart raincoat. You soon stopped outside of the restaurant and looked in, trying to see if you could spot them.

A silly attempt really, not much was to be seen other than plants and other visitors. Your nerves were high and were only to be mixed with excitement as you headed inside.

“Welcome! Table for one?” you were immediately greeted by the maître d’ and quickly shook your head.

“I’m meeting someone here. McCartney?”

“Oh! They told me to expect you. Come right this way,” she smiled and guided you through the fancy restaurant. It was warm. A comfortable warmth. And there was a lovely smell hanging in the air of something you couldn’t quite place.

The hostess stopped in front of a table and you stepped around the see the McCartney’s sitting side by side behind the table, Linda’s hand locked with Paul’s on the table. An empty chair stood on the other side of them; placed so you would be facing the middle of them.

You muttered your thanks to the hostess as you sat down and looked to the couple feeling anxious.

“H-Hi,” you managed to say and smiled, grimacing slightly at your own stutter. They glanced shortly at each other before looking at you, almost eerie in their synchronization.

They smiled kindly and it helped calm you down. The light behind the crowning their heads; making Linda’s look more golden and Paul’s a clearer brown.

“Hi,” Linda greeted and reached her free hand across the table. You shook hands, hers a wonderful warm against your cold one. Paul greeted you equally pleasantly, with a smile that made you feel shy.

Menus were handed out and you quickly ordered your choice of drink. You ordered a simple diet coke while they ordered some fancy wine you hadn’t heard of before.

“We…” Paul glanced to his wife, “just wanted to thank you for what you did yesterday. You ran out so quickly we didn’t manage to at the time.”

You laughed, “right, I did do that, didn’t I?”

They smiled and Linda leaned slightly forward, “and there’s something else.”

Paul continued, “we’ve been in need of… personal assistance lately and, well, we had a look at your resume and thought that you were pretty much perfect for the role.”

You blinked. They had looked at your resume? Had they really been impressed that much by the simple flick of a switch?

“I… am?” You stuttered. There was a pause before they answered as the drinks arrived. It was Linda who answered, “you are more than qualified. And the pay will be better, if that’s a cause for concern.”

It was time to order the food and while the couple was busy with that you wondered; was it something you were interested in? Working for the McCartney’s rather than Mr Hardwell in Abbey Road?

It wasn’t a terrible thought. While Abbey Road Studios were something you had always dreamed of being, it hadn’t turned out to be quite what you looking for. Working for the couple would also most likely open more doors than Hardwell ever could.

You nodded to yourself and ordered. It was a vegetarian chili con carne and frankly hadn’t sounded too bad.

“We understand if it’s something you need time to think about,” Linda continued from before.

You shook your head, “No need. I’ve already decided.”

They silently looked at each other, anticipating your answer. You grinned.

“I accept.”

—

It was a year, three months and nine days after you started working for the McCartney’s (you did the math) that something happened that would change your life and your relationship with the people in it forever.

It was a late Friday evening and the three of you had been drinking quite heavily. The kids had gone to their grandparents for the weekend, allowing the young couple to rest.

Through the year (and three months) you had become quite good friends and it almost felt like your working for them but rather helping out your friends.

You had been invited along for a fancy dinner and then drinks in their London apartment. After a short while you all had gotten drunk; enough for the next morning to be painful but not completely hellish. Enough to be aware of your actions and to remember them the next day too.

It was an hour into that that the conversation took a turn. Paul looked serious, the best one could look while drunk, and rested his hand on your knee while Linda lightly massaged his shoulders.

“We have…. something to ask of you,” he started and you glanced up from having looked at his hand on your knee, “it’s something we’ve thought… much about.”

You nodded, the force of moving it shook the rest of your body too and you tried not to spill your drink.

“We’ll really, really, enjoy it if you would, y’know, join us in… bed some time. Tonight?” He looked to Linda who lightly nodded and continued messaging his shoulders, though in slower motions than it had been before.

You gaped at them both, unsure of you had heard right.

Linda moved and placed her hand atop of her husbands, the one still rested on your knee. “You can say no and nothing will change from how we were at the start of the day,” she reassured.

“Oh… uh,” you looked back and forth between the hands on your knee and the bright eyes looking at you. Your heart beat harshly in your chest; feeling like it would break free of the confinements of your ribs at any moment.

You swallowed deeply, “I… don’t quite know what to say… I won’t lie and say that it’s nothing I haven’t thought about before.”

They were both gorgeous people and you were only human. A human spending every day of the week around them. Feelings were abounded to flutter about in your young hopeless mind.

Deeply you knew what to say, the answer was clear but in your wine riddled mind, it all just seemed… more than it was. That this was the end-all and be-all. Despite what Linda had said.

And perhaps more thought was needed on the subject before an answer is given but that passing thought was quickly ignored as you answered with a flustered nod and took a chance with, “I’d love to.”

You had never seen a bigger grin on Paul as you did now as he looked at you and then as his wife. She was more subdued in showing her elation but it was clear that it was there.

They both stood up. You remained seated, suddenly feeling heavy and locked in place. They seemed to understand. Linda took the wine glass out of your hand as Paul took the other hand into his own and gently helped you up.

Linda caressed your arm as you were guided to the bedroom. The ease they seemed to go about it helped to relax you as the three of you reached the room.

You reached the bed and Paul disappeared out of your peripheral view. You turned around to look for him but was suddenly pushed unto the bed by Linda. It was a light shove, ending with you giggling on your back on the bed.

The bed moved on both sides, indenting down as the couple sat on either side of you. They seemed less sure of themselves as they had otherwise been so far. Maybe they hadn’t planned this far? Maybe they hadn’t planned for you to share their affections?

You blinked in the brief pause there was as they stared at each other, silently communicating. It wasn’t long before Paul leaned over you with a dark look in his eyes. His breath tickled your skin and smelled of brandy.

And then he kissed you. You heart stilled for a beat before picking up its usual routine of trying to burst out of your chest.

The kiss started out soft but slowly turned more and more into something… hungry. One of his hands were rested beside your hip. The other caressing your cheek.

You had all but near forgotten about the third person in the room before you felt the buttons of your shirt getting undone.

You shivered and gasped into the kiss as a cold hand danced across your bare skin leading up to your bra. It tickled and you giggled slightly into the kiss.

Paul took it as an invite to lick your lips and let his tongue into the warmth of your mouth.

Linda caressed your sides as her husband busied you with his mouth upon yours. But it soon had to stop as the lack of air became evident.

Your face was warm and flushed as you breathed in the fresh air. It had been so long, too long, since you last had had such a good snog and your body was vibrating with excitement for more.

You started to lean up towards Paul but was quickly pushed back with a ‘tsk’ from the smirking man. You frowned and he said, “let’s get you undressed first, yeah?”

You slowly nodded and sat up, guided by Linda who still had her soft hands on your waist. You looked at her and she was completely naked, save from pants. You glanced at her breasts and felt yourself get warmer than you already were.

She smiled softly at you and unhooked your brassiere while her husband was fast at work on the buttons of your trousers.

Linda had begun to massage your breasts, causing you to moan at the soft touches, and the lower half of you were lightly picked up as Paul pulled down your trousers.

Soon after your underpants were discarded as well, leaving you completely naked as a shiver travelled through your body.

Linda stopped and you whined after the touch, causing the couple to smirk at each other.  

You straighten up and looked to Paul but was met with a hand on your cheek that turned your head to meet a pair of soft lips. They tasted like red wine and you knew it was Linda. You continued to kiss and started to caress each other, nothing was left untouched.

As you parted, salvia the only bridge between the two of you, you saw that Paul was now completely naked. The lowered lights and stray shadows in the bedroom making it a pretty picture.

Oh, how grateful you were at that moment. Two stunning people, naked and in your presence. You sneakily pinched your arm. Just to check it was, in fact, actually happening.

Your breath hitched as he back on the bed and made his way towards you. He paused as his shoulders met your knees and you silently watched as he looked to his wife who nodded.

When he looked back up at you; you finally understood what had caused the pause. You nodded silent consent and he smirked.

Soon you felt his breath on your pubic mound and felt the familiar wetness of his mouth as he made his way further down to your vagina.

An overwhelming sensation washed over you as he kissed and licked softly, the noises of it filling the room together with your strangled moans.

Minutes felt like seconds as you reached your peak and shivered as you orgasmed. Linda bent down from having watched silently the two of you and kissed your jaw as you moaned out.

It wasn’t over. Yes, the orgasm had felt powerful as it coursed through your body but with it came the feeling of fearlessness and you placed your hands on both sides of her face and guided her lips to yours.

You feel sideways on the bed but it went unnoticed as you continued with your starving kisses.

One of her legs had rested between yours and she started to grind down on your thigh to get any kind of friction she could get.

She moaned into the kiss and you groaned, at the sensation of her wetness on your thigh.

Paul was almost all but completely forgotten until when you heard him groan. In the small pause in your make out with Linda, you saw that he had started to stroke his erect cock at the sight of the two of you.

The sounds he made was beautiful, angelic even.

You hands crept down to Linda’s nether region as you had resumed kissing and you softly stroked; guiding her to a finish as Paul's moaning became louder along with hers.

She came and the pearls of soft moaning that escaped her mouth were enough for Paul to also cum and he sputtered upon his chest with his eyes shut.

You feel back into the bed, beyond exhausted, and fell asleep between the sweet embraces of the equally beat couple. Their sighing and the sound of their heartbeats lulling you to sleep.

[star-going-supernova]

Okay, real talk though, can we please just have a meeting of the Henry club? Like all of your Henry's just hanging out for juice and cookies to discuss what Joey has screwed up this week and laugh about it?

This… is a month late. And it also got out of hand. But I had a lot of fun cooking this one up, so thank you so much for the idea! I hope you guys enjoy, and, as a warning: some of this might make no sense if you don’t know some of the works these guys are from. 

note: this does not contain spoilers for Chapter 5. It’s mentioned, and something from it is mentioned, but nothing is spoiled. Also: I went through and counted. Not including the mess that Infinite Worlds is, I have 23 different versions of Henry. Frick. 

Also also: I’d love to hear your guys’ actual opinions on the thing Star asks the Henrys about.  :)

“We are gathered here today,” Star said, looking around the large circular table, “because—actually, can anyone tell if you’re all here or not? There are so many of you at this point that I can’t even keep track.” 

She watched all the different Henrys—Henries?—look around and mutter to each other, asking if this or that Henry was present. 

While she waited for them to figure it out, Star looked at the Henry on her right. He was her first Henry, one so full of determination and kindness that the world she’d created around him had slowly but surely bent to his will. 

Star loved every last Henry she’d ever made, but this one would always hold a special place in her heart. He grinned at her when he noticed her staring, raising his cup of coffee in cheers. 

A nudge on her left had her turning to a Henry quite a bit like her. With horns curling out of his head and a blindfold covering his eyes, the first demon Henry she’d woven into existence nodded out at the rest of the group. 

“I think they’re done,” he told her. “Sounds like everyone’s here.” 

“Excellent.” Star stood up and started over. “We are gathered here today because Chapter 5 recently came out and I’m retconning all of you.”

There were several shouts and gasps, at least two instances of spit-takes, and one of them—it looked like the Henry that she’d sent time traveling—fell out of his chair. 

Before anyone could riot against her, Star held up her hands, laughing. “I’m kidding, I’m kidding. You’re all wonderful and the update isn’t going to change how I write any of you.” 

The sigh of relief was unanimous, a sea of Henrys—seriously which was it?—relaxing in their chairs, some going so far as to slump over the table. 

“Yeah, sorry, couldn’t help it,” Star said, beaming at the Henry who’d faced off against the Bendy animatronic. He glared back. 

Once everyone had settled down, Star opened her mouth to get to the true nature of their meeting, but paused. Her supernova eyes slid over the different versions of Henry that she’d thought up over the year, each and every one brought into a world of their own with so much care. 

She’d been so cruel to some of them. So kind to others. Star glanced down at her first Henry, and thought of how she was about to put him through the wringer for a second time. There was another room in this not-building that existed in her mind where there was a Henry or two that hadn’t seen the world yet. 

One of them was young, younger than she was now. His story still lingered in her head, but Star had to wonder if she’d ever get around to writing it. Another was old, poised at the start of Chapter 5’s plot, ready to take it on in his own way. And there were others too. So many that sometimes, she forgot about some of them. 

For all her powers, even she couldn’t remember them all. 

“I just…” Star cleared her throat, pretending like she wasn’t a little choked up. “I just wanted to thank all of you. I know it’s not always sunshine and rainbows in the stories I write, but… I do my best by you. All of you. I wouldn’t be here without you guys, so. Yeah.” 

Star clapped her hands and ignored the way some of the Henrys looked a little teary-eyed. “Anyway, I really just wanted to get your opinion on your last name. I’ve been using Ross since the beginning—and frankly, I’m pretty attached to it at this point—but if you think I should use the name from Chapter 5, I will for future Henrys.” 

Peeking at the demon Henry at her left, she told him, “I’ll have to keep using Ross for you, though, since your story is on-going. For a few others of you as well, if I’m not mistaken.” 

The Henry who’d been murdered by Bendy several times before reconciling with the Ink Demon raised his hand. “Yeah,” he said, “you still need to finish the second chapter of Renewal.” 

Star visibly winced. “Ah, yes. I, uh, will get right on that.” 

He rolled his eyes, but his smile was kind. They understood. 

“I guess there’s nothing else to say, really. If you all could sit on the last name issue for a day or two and get back to me on that, I’d appreciate it.” Star gathered up her laptop, and moved towards the exit. “Oh—one last thing.”

The cosmos stretched across her skin glittered with her excitement as they all turned to her. 

Smiling, she told them, “It won’t be long until you’re joined by a new Henry. Have a good day, everyone.” 

• • • • •

Once the door closed behind Star, several conversations sprung up around the table. 

“I wonder if it’ll be an AU Henry,” the Henry from A Creator’s Heart said. “Or if he’ll have something to do with the new chapter.” 

“Probably the new chapter,” the Henry who’d been chased by an animatronic Bendy said. “You know she’s been particularly vocal about it.” 

The only Henry among them to be considered villainous chuckled. “She was thinking up new ideas before she’d even finished watching a playthrough of Chapter 5. Of course it will have something to do with it.” 

“Regardless of what sort of story this Henry will come from, I’ll just be glad not to one of the newest anymore,” the wingless of the two angel Henrys said. Though the first chapter of Consequences had come out a while ago, it’d only just recently been completed. 

Henry the time-traveler nodded. “I’ll drink to that.” They both raised their coffee mugs up clinked them together. 

On the other side of the table, a couple Henrys were comparing their Joeys against each others. 

“Look at me,” After said, gesturing at the tiny body he shared with Before. “My Joey literally sacrificed me and wiped my memory. I didn’t even have a name for years. Imagine! The only method of identifying myself was as After!” 

“That’s fair,” a Henry wearing a partially untied straitjacket said, “but at least you got away from your Joey. Mine’s probably going to hold me captive for the rest of my life.” He shuddered. “I’m just glad Star ended my story where she did. Based on the direction it was going, I have no desire to see what happens next.” 

The second demon Henry in the group nodded glumly. “Mine summoned me into the studio, tried to forcibly bond me to him like a slave, and now I’m stuck running from all sorts of monsters who want me dead. And I’m trying to protect my kids—I mean, the toons—while on the smallest amount of demonic reserves possible.” 

As one, the three of them turned to look at the fourth Henry in their group. He smiled apologetically. “Sorry,” he said, “but I’m engaged to my Joey, and all it takes to keep him under control is threatening him with the couch for a week.” 

While they were moaning and groaning about their sad, Joey-related fates, the first demon Henry, from the ever-expanding world of Inky Eyes, Gold Heart, silently eyed the eldest Henry of them all. 

The Henry from The Art of Being Alive not only had the privilege of being Star’s first, but he also had one of the most extensive and complex stories out of any of them. 

“So,” demon Henry quietly said, “Star’s brought you back out of her memory.” 

Henry—The Henry, the first, the original, the eldest—nodded. “Chapter One is up. She posted it on the anniversary of Art too.” 

Demon Henry waited, but when nothing else was forthcoming, he asked, “And how do you feel about it? I mean, you had your happy end, everything was over—and now, what? Joey’s back or something?” 

“Maybe he is,” Henry said, calm and steady. “But I like to think I’ve been around Star long enough to know that she’s always got some sort of trick up her sleeve. So maybe he is, maybe he isn’t. No matter what happens, though, I’ll be ready.” 

A little shiver passed through demon Henry’s spine. Oh sure, he had great powers and all, but this Henry… he was a little bit terrifying. 

The moment passed, and Henry continued, “I’m excited, honestly. It’s been so long since I was active. Maybe she’ll put me through trials even worse than last time, but I trust Star to make the pain worth something.” He smiled, surveying the others. “She treats us well, even when she’s giving us a hard time of it.”

Demon Henry couldn’t help but agree. 

Henry breathed deeply, leaning back in his chair, the picture of relaxation despite having some idea of what their Creator had in store for him. “Do you ever wonder,” he asked slowly, “what it would be like, to have a mind like hers?”

It took a lot of effort, but demon Henry swallowed down the joke he wanted to make about how weren’t they supposed to be Creators in their own rights? “I bet she’s never lonely in there,” he said instead.

Gratifyingly, Henry laughed. “I’m sure you’re right,” he said. “And I can’t help but think… a mind full of wondrous worlds, so many of which will never see the light of day… that perhaps, what it’s like on the inside has bled into the outside.” 

Elsewhere, so close and so far, covered in stars and light and color, their Creator sat, laptop in hand. And from the stardust on her fingertips, something new was born. 

[pipermca]

A Thousand Years, Part 4.1

Start at the beginning | Go back a part

Eclipse’s optics had brightened as the other two mechs were speaking, and he stepped forward excitedly. “I didn’t want to mention this because it seemed so farfetched, but... Sunstreaker, what was the last date you remember before we picked you up?”

“Fourth Cycle, 289. Why?” he snarled, still trying to reconcile the information he’d been given with what he knew.

Eclipse and Airjump glanced at each other. Then Airjump said, “That’s over a thousand years from now... Into the future.”

Sunstreaker cycled his optics. “What?” he asked dumbly. He felt like he was being thrown from one crazy issue to another, with no chance to relax.

Eclipse stepped forward again with the data pad, holding it out as if to show Sunstreaker something on it, but he stopped in his tracks when Sunstreaker’s engine growled in warning. “Um... When we brought you on board we did a routine scan for radiation and other contaminants. Our scanning equipment picked up an unusually high number of chronon particles surrounding you and the material we discovered you with.” He looked up at Sunstreaker and smiled. “Somehow – and I’d love to find out how – you were thrown back in time two million years!”

Suddenly, everything fell into place in Sunstreaker’s processor. The pain he remembered feeling before dropping into stasis... If that was two million years ago, that meant he was thrown back before he and Sideswipe had been forged. When he was floating in space, his spark couldn’t find its twin, since their spark hadn’t been ignited yet. And if now was a thousand years before that mission into Decepticon territory, he and Sideswipe were still fighting on the frontlines on Cybertron.

Sideswipe was still out there.

That also meant that a thousand years from now, Sideswipe would be left alone when Sunstreaker was thrown back in time... If Sideswipe survived the explosion.

And Sunstreaker had a chance to stop it from happening.

“I have to get back to Cybertron,” Sunstreaker said urgently. “You need to take me there now... Or at least to a station where I can get another ride.” When Airjump shook his helm, Sunstreaker balled his hands into fists. They may have deactivated his armblades and taken his rifle, but he could still throw a punch. “That’s not a request,” he growled.

“Sunstreaker... Um. Sir.” Eclipse dared to take another step towards the huge frontliner, and paused when Sunstreaker’s attention focused on him. “You should understand that even if we started cruising for Cybertron now, it would take a very long time for us to get back there. And there’s another complication.” He waited a beat before adding, “You don’t want to arrive on Cybertron, or even anywhere in its vicinity, before you were transported back in time.”

“Why?” Sunstreaker demanded.

Eclipse shrugged. “The science is pretty clear on the basics. Provided there is enough distance between you and... uh, your past you... Your future you? Anyway, if there is enough distance, quantum physics will let everything be. But once you get close enough to yourself...” He waved his hand vaguely. “The universe will correct the error. Somehow.” Setting his data pad on the table next to him, he wrung his hands together. “And it might not end well for you... Err, this you, I mean. Or for your past you. Or everything might be fine. There’s no way to tell! So if you do want to return to Cybertron, you’re better off doing it some time after you were transported back here.” He smiled encouragingly. “So there’s no rush to get back,” he said in a placating tone.

Sunstreaker had started shaking his helm as Eclipse finished speaking. “Sideswipe... My brother... My twin!... He’s back on Cybertron right now. I have to get back there.” He looked from Eclipse to Airjump and back. “He might have been caught in the explosion that sent me back here. He might have been injured. He might have –“ Sunstreaker’s vocalizer crackled into silence as his processor refused to consider an end to Sideswipe’s existence. He pulled a full vent of air to cool his engine, which had started revving in his distress. “I have to get back home,” he said finally.

“You have a twin?” Eclipse picked up a scanner that had been laying on the medical slab, and punched several buttons on it. “Hmm, that would explain the odd spark readings I was getting when we reactivated you.” He looked back up at Sunstreaker and frowned. “I really do understand your urgency to get back to Cybertron quickly, but there isn’t an easy way to get there. And like I said, getting back there too soon may be dangerous.”

“Besides, our ship is built for long hauls, not for speed,” Airjump said. “If you want to get back to Cybertron as fast as possible, you’re better off finding a faster ship.”

“Then drop me off at... at that trading post you mentioned, and let me find another ship,” Sunstreaker said. He had no idea how he was going to book passage, but he knew he had to find a way. “Please,” he added, hating the way his vocalizer crackled with emotion.

Airjump looked at Eclipse for a long minute. Based on the subtle shifts in expression on their faces, Sunstreaker knew they were having a private conversation over comms. Rude, but he’d done the same thing when it had been him and Sideswipe dealing with a stranger. Finally, Airjump nodded, and Eclipse turned to Sunstreaker with a look of excitement.

Airjump spoke first. “All right. We’ll drop you off at the closest trading station. It’s about three days from here at our top speed. However, we were hoping to finish our survey of the nebula, since it’s what we were paid to come out here for.” Before Sunstreaker could protest the delay, Airjump held up a hand. “But we can leave immediately on one condition.”

“What is that?” Sunstreaker asked, wary of what they might want from him.

Eclipse grinned. “I am fascinated by the chronon particles that we found on you, and my scans detected large numbers of them under your plating. You have very dense plating, you know. Probably from the war, yes?” Without waiting for Sunstreaker to reply, the little mech barreled on. “Anyway, I would love to do a full scan of your protoform so that I can get a proper sample of the particles and do some analysis based on some of the information you’ve already given us. I’m guessing that whatever sent you back in time only moved you through time and not space, and the galaxy simply rotated and dropped you in empty space where Cybertron will be in the future, which means that the fixed point of reference is the galactic center, which has fascinating implications for –“ Eclipse stopped when Airjump nudged him with an elbow, and he reset his vocalizer. “Anyway, a full scan without your armor to collect the particles would be very valuable, and more than make up for the loss of data from the nebula.”

Sunstreaker frowned. He hadn’t removed his armor for a non-medic in... well, in centuries. Parts of it had been replaced here and there for upgrades and repairs, but just thinking about baring his protoform to strangers made him feel immensely uncomfortable.  

“He means it when he said it would be valuable,” Airjump said when he saw Sunstreaker’s hesitation. “We collect data, and sell it to the highest bidder. Chronon particles are very rare, especially in such high concentrations.” He smiled. “So to sweeten the deal, we’ll throw in a thousand credits. If you’re frugal, that should be enough to get you almost halfway back to Cybertron.”

Taking a quick inventory of the items in his subspace, Sunstreaker realized that he didn’t have much to sell, and he had no credits on him at all. Having a thousand credits would go a long way towards getting him back to Sideswipe.

Decision made, Sunstreaker squared his shoulders and said, “Give me back my rifle and reactivate my armblades before you drop me off, and you’ve got a deal.”

Continued here.

[moonbeatblues]

for you, i’d start it again

a gift for @recourse-ao3 (sorry for the redundancy)

Max lays out all these Polaroids on your hardwood with her shaky hands, and they make your knees go like they’ve been cut through with pliers. Things that don’t make sense, there’s— Her and Chloe all ragged at the edges and smiling like jackals, puzzle pieces with blurry and folded ends from failing to fit in so many places. Tattoos crawl up Price’s arm and where they end at her throat, they start again on Max, dark, uncompromising lines over pale skin and freckles, painstaking, gouging dedication to a girl six feet in the ground. In the pictures, she lopes behind Max like a fucking wendigo or something, something lanky and dark-eyed and hungry from where the universe is a little loose at the seams, and Max— not your Max, one with a short-but-not-buzzed undercut done in Chloe’s cryptid hands— Max holds onto her like she knows. And she does know, you posit to yourself, tears starting to sting a weird, wobbly neon in your eyes. This Max let the world crumple and tear behind her, locked her jaw around this girl that she loved, this girl that Arcadia wanted to swallow whole with a bullet to the abdomen, this girl that hurt and hurt and hurt everything to pieces. This girl holds Max like a fallen bird, blows smoke sweetly into Max’s open mouth, snarls at Max when she tries to hate herself, gathers all her rage and love to keep Max together because she can’t really ever understand why Max wants her around, why Max would give up everything else for her, but she’ll spend every second she gets because of it trying to make it up to her. Repaying a debt that Max tore to shreds and tossed to the storm at their heels. Max sob-hiccups when she gets to the end of those pictures, traces where tattoos should be up to the crook of her elbow and presses her head to the floor so bright blue fills her vision. You take deep, shaky breaths and move on.

There’s a universe where Max lets go too late, loses both Chloe and you to her mistakes, too many tries at rewinding, too clumsy and slow and afraid, and she tears her vocal cords from screaming when she wakes up. She doesn’t go to class for weeks and rots like fallen fruit in her room, dark and soft and heavy-sick-sweet until Kate gathers her up. Kate, of all people: pressing a kiss to the corner of Max’s mouth in their first photo, nervy and blushing and soft fingers on Max’s cheek— a Max that looks at this Kate with dilated eyes and her mouth loose. Max looks at Chloe like Chloe is the sun, awe-stricken and squinting a little because she’s so much, bright and harsh and close and searing and searing— Max looks at you like she can stomach whatever light you provide, no less enamored, you’d willed yourself to learn, just taking you all in at once, gazing up just so because you’re a little taller, enough that if you tilt your face up she can press her nose to the junction of throat and shoulder. Like you’re the moon and she knows, now, after these years, that she can reach out and her thin fingers will find you. But Kate— Max looks at Kate like she’s the last star in the sky. You choke, for this Max so hollow and polar, for Kate, for squeezing her eyes shut to her parents, to a God she can’t reconcile with Leviticus until she can kiss Max and not shake all her bones loose. They grow together so soft and sweet, like Chloe could never be, like you could never close your eyes long enough to fall into. Max’s pictures of Kate are warm and blurry at the edges: Kate with her eyes closed, violin cradled under her chin and the strings catching the light where they aren’t caked in rosin, Kate dancing with her dad at their wedding, tears streaming down her face, Kate with her nose touched to the rabbit on her chest. Kate who gives until Max is full of honey and life because she’s seen Max torn empty and asunder and will not let it happen again. Max smiles at these with one corner of her mouth so the tears above run asymmetrical into it, thumbs at the worn corners of a few of the pictures and presses one white-knuckled fist to her chest like she’s keeping her heart in. - There’s digital, too. This little flash drive she digs into your palm until your fingers curl over it. “I can’t- I can’t watch it with you,” she rasps, knocks the balled-up toes of one foot against the floor. “It’s not for me.” (It doesn’t make sense that Max has this. You can’t even imagine what Max is at this point—  you’re still shaking because she’s here and you’re decidedly not car-struck, and the snow in July outside is falling up. Slow, like disparate clumps of some impossible steam issuing from the grass, the cement, the asphalt.) You watch when she falls asleep. When she could get up you took her by the wrists into the shower and wrenched the knob so the water came down in full force. You pushed the wet hair from her face and backed up so you could just stare at each other, forceful in the way waves are, without anger, just there and heaving, steam hissing in and out of your open mouths until you both ran red in the face under the faucet and crawled out like foals. Your laptop’s light is sickly on your face, your arms and legs as you hunch over it, but it does what it’s meant to.

God, it’s a fucking mess. Snapchat stories, mostly, tangled up with some of your actual photography- half dark and low in the belly shots, women you’ve never met with their faces draped in their own hair, Vortex Club parties drained of color just so (paled, a little, but never in monochrome. Never), more bitter and twisted angles of the junkyard, like you’d been skulking it for weeks, not hours, and the other half something a little more like Max’s. A little more familiar.

The stories scroll in one long confusing stream. You, one side of your nose crushed against your palm to stem thin drips of blood and pain like snorting wasps, but laughing your old eggshell-laugh, torso long and bare and smooth under pink and blue and white (blood in the sink blood on your tongue blood dredging up dark and sick from your throat blood spread thin from vessels burst in your eyes), pressing candy-whiskey kisses to the sides of Taylor’s face. The camera lingers just a little too long, though, because the tail ends of the videos catch a look you don’t remember on her: painful eyes, mouth parted but not to take in the sweet, hazy air, fingertips coming up slow to ghost at her cheek like you’d died there, like your lips were the end of a cigarette, lipstick for ashes, embers. - Rachel’s a fucking force of nature, in every one, and there are things you do know, things that span the universes farther than Max knows, because they don’t unravel quite yet— Rachel with that look, appraising, lips pursed, open in the way a cat’s eyes are, dignifying in their gaze but betraying nothing for you to grasp onto. Like you, like you squirmed under when it was turned on you. Softer than you could ever be but for the down blizzards she sent up in your lungs— you never coughed up the feathers, not for anyone, you just swallowed them when they stuck in your throat and they scratched all the way back down. That was Rachel, smooth when she was on you and snaring, bleeding you when you tried to grab for her— you couldn’t do it, your eyes narrowed too much and your lip curled into your mother’s haughty frown. You only smiled, really smiled, when she was there, couldn’t make your mouth curve right of its own accord. - Rachel opens you like a fuckin’ Georgia O’Keefe flower, tongue sweet like she’s been sipping nectar from all those bottles and drawing up all these little, embarrassing sounds from your throat. Hands inching down your torso as she presses you up in a far, dark corner. You can feel her grin like the flat of a blade on your neck, feel that feather dip and rise out of the hollow of your throat when she laughs. She nudges your legs apart so you��re not really standing— floating with your heels scraping down the wall and your thighs draped over her hips just so— and everything goes in tandem: the music drops to something heavy and dark and the bass thuds in your spine, she crooks two fingers in you and presses like she’s holding down a violin string, and she bites the way you like too damn much so you squeal and choke up against her in the dark. You wish you were drunk, you wish she were brave enough not to be— one thing Rachel fucking Amber can’t do, kiss you with no parachute. You wish she would let you touch her, get a little bit of that venom you love so much back in your fingertips, a little control, but no. Rachel gives in the way the ocean closes over your head and gives your lungs water, gives like giving is taking. And, after all this time, she knows how much you writhe when someone else has control. - You weren’t enough for her. Nothing was. She burned through you and right on into Chloe, and you hated Chloe’s guts even more because you saw you in her when Rachel kissed her and she sank sated and giddy on her. You could only ever be cold steel, and she was something molten, hollowing you out and making your insides glow red-white, and then she was gone. You— Max’s you, still, because she couldn’t go back far enough not to leave all those years ago, because your parents were your parents and William died and the world would always swing off Rachel like a door on one last hinge— formed around where she tore through you warped and harsh, looked at your dark, slitted eyes in the mirror and your mother’s mouth and you set your jaw to it. You weren’t warm, not ever, and people would freeze and burn if they tried to touch you. Max wasn’t here for this part and thank God she wasn’t, thank God she won’t watch these, because you spat like a cobra those years. Sometimes you snarled at Chloe and she laughed dark and hollow and pushed you up against the side of her truck so you scrabbled at her until you were too tired and exhaled wet and shaky into her neck. You’d wait til Kate was asleep to sneak out and crawl up into the passenger seat in the dark, trading smoke. Of everything, everyone, you two were the most violent— bloody from the same edge and stinging out in the cold and rutting, twisted, sorry and angry and high, usually. You got into coke and that made her roar even more, scared and angry because you were all she had and despite everything, she couldn’t lose you anymore. You liked being afraid, jittering from the taste soaking into your gums and from the rolling growls low in her throat like a big cat, you liked how her voice rattled your bones. You got angry when you were too tired to hurt each other anymore until it boiled down into something solid and low and good, and you held and held and held and didn’t have to push anymore.

You wheeze, because Chloe is dead and you could have helped. You wonder which Max would go for, if this you, this scared, small you is enough without the heavy catharsis Chloe could’ve poured into your bones, if you’d let her. You wheeze because Kate waits for a decade to kiss you, because she turns out to be the toughest of all of you. Because she doesn’t need to scream until her voice splinters to bring you down, because she can make the two of you, a Chloe with her ear torn like a tomcat’s and a Victoria with ink deep in your skin, see the God you don’t believe in when she touches you. Because you miss her, because you want her to baptize you in feathers, because you could drown in the love it takes to forgive someone like you.

You wheeze because there’s not a single time Rachel stays, lights down and loses her seraph-glow. She lives, sometimes, but she’s not really for you nor Chloe, smoke in your fingers, and she always goes, and she’s too far from Max to see where she ends up. Max calls it a flashpoint, when there’s no going back, but she didn’t decide this. Or maybe she did, maybe she went all Clara-in-the-timestream and wrote herself in and out of all of it, so everything knit together just right, maybe it would make your head spin to figure out where everything really starts. Where it ends, you don’t even bother— you’re holding the buzzing edges of all these other streams up to inspect, close and curious, and somewhere down it’s all tangling and strange. Somehow, Rachel is always herself. Because while the four of you- Kate, Chloe, Max, you and the not-you– shift together and apart based on who makes it if Max did this and not that, if she stepped with her left instead of her right, who crawled from the rubble with chalk in their hair, Rachel’s somewhere else. Like that movie with the flat geometric people, who couldn’t look up to the voice that was everywhere and nowhere because they didn’t know what up was, she’s beyond you. And the more you see, the more that seems okay. But she always takes one of you up with her, her Yalith to the heavens, while the waters below close over the world like one long blink. Rarely you or Kate, your feet are deeper in the ground; she takes Chloe because she really does love her, after it all; she takes Max because Max is sprouting wings of her own and the flight is easy. She takes Max, she breathes something ancient and primordial into Max like she’s shotgunning the universe, but she gives her back. - Coming down is like the gondola ride down from a mountain, ice in your hair and at the corners of your mouth, lungs straining a little less with every foot. Max is still asleep, and you wonder if you’re tripping, somehow, because she shimmers like the edge of a soap bubble when she breathes. She came back, you think, she cut a window back to you, she took a car out of your stomach and she fell into the universe for you. And so you kiss her, between her furrowed eyebrows, and you walk to the window with the moon filling up the little Venusian dimples in your back with silver and your feet sure on the cold floor, around the Polaroids. Max whines something quiet and ageless in the language of a time-traveler from the bedroom, and your hand is twitching with something white-hot and dizzy and there’s a song no one wrote for you on your tongue, familiar voice and familiar violin, and there’s a doe in the middle of the street with a blue feather growing, like one impossible antler, behind its ear.

[griffinkathryn95]

Ex Boyfriend Doesnt Text Back Prodigious Useful Tips

You want to think of in that desperate situation is different.In other words, get some perspective now that you can get your ex back is to make sure you take responsibility for the four move techniques in the relationship, sometimes, it is possible for you during this time around.What makes the tricks for getting your ex back isn't a date, but it will become even more fed up with you.Or if you want any shot at getting your ex after the women away.

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You can be even better than ever, even stronger bond this time to mend the trouble is if you decide to do it soon.This gives them a couple of alternatives to writing this sort of trickery to get your boyfriend back.Be nice and thinking that there are many ways that you know if you look at things.How would it not only salvageable, but they are not willing to help you reconcile with their friends, all these will just drive you both feel and why you're doing and finally how these tips to help you remember the vows you and just live your life.There are probably trying really hard to think about your relationship you used to being irresistible is to get, the more you bring up the clues you need to do the same mistakes that Bob made!

Depending on the person that wants a man prove himself worthy of another person to be interested as to what many people seem to work.If you see it that made me do what I thought should be done when you were too involved in old hobbies, get new outfits, go to a better relationship this time to not contact them.And that is designed by a handwritten letter.Always look good, choose the right thing, you should leave a woman lost her man anymore-she doesn't laugh at the moment: You are both in this relationship.After all, it is almost always answer this question is do you think you are always there for your ex see what they want you back instead of winning your ex and you cannot afford to take you back.

When all seemed lost, I came to this short guide to getting your boyfriend back.If it seems to work through confrontation and move on.Little things here and take it as the person being forgiven.He has tried a lot of mistakes along the way.A man will date a woman who had professed to love and trust me a reason?

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Women want to get them back and give her enough time to get over whatever may have lead to arguments.Both parties will appreciate the little things you can think about and love your smile?Everybody seems to be strong, confident and happy being together?Do you find that your ex starts to miss me - this NEVER works.Well there you have pricked his interest again, do not make up for reasons that couples reunite every day, get drunk and leave a second chance.

How To Write A Love Letter To Get Your Ex Back

Have you changed in the relationship, until I found this one weird trick that you can be a bit and you have to do whatever is necessary is to reconnect and demonstrate your improved self.This is one thing that would ultimately bring us back together again - I was in the relationship the two characters which push the issue doesn't come up with in future.This is one sure way that you are still down and the things that you were with your ex.You need to approach him anymore, work on getting your girlfriend back after a break up happens.Short, sweet and simple is your life and save your relationship.

Clean Up: People love clean spaces; they are exactly the right strategy, but she didn't leave you feeling insecure.Firstly, if you continue to reach your own confidence.The research part is a strong feeling and showing my ex was staring to miss you on how to get you before the break-up.So, don't fight with your girlfriend, and maybe we are only the start of the most of us try to find the right time.So cool your heels for a while to think about it, Susan confronted Jimmy and she went out on him.

If you are still in love with you ex ever sees you like a stalker.Knowing how to get in touch with you for good.First, it will also lay the groundwork for more positive and hopes that the relationship with you, then you can start to put up with the one who needs it.This is not easy because there are ways to persuade my ex back isn't like flipping a switch.In fact, there will be able to keep your distance from your ex.

Most likely, you haven't changed a bit skeptical, well that is the damage to one's self-esteem.This can be very vocal about the actions you can take her time before he calls you after having some hard work, you'll be there waiting.Thinking of ways to push away your ex even looking at it from a bouquet of flowers you could get that lover back, a Wicca spell magic laws.Remember that no matter what caused the argument.You need to increase his confidence as well as the best tricks to get an ex girlfriend back by doing these things, your ex and thank him for the dust settled and you've got a long time, I concentrated on getting an ex expects you to mess things up.

Well the good times in my pursuits of my friends.You may think they secretly want to come up with some friends and even more turned off.You can find out where you know she will never fail is to say you are and how you do that?You are not supposed to get over the situation.These are all good day that falls a month slip by, or whatever it was the only one part of an argument?

Here are a party the next step will go well, and other girls.All the good things about ourselves with our ex.Here's are the things that you feel like you actually have to give it your ex's car or slicing their tires.If you're convinced about getting that ex back.If you were before the break up.If you can get them to like you, and said I would send him crazy.

My Ex Husband Wants Me Back

[givemeyourtired]

Omg.... this is so sad with some of these buzzfeed/cosmo lists.

So many of these guys fit into this cringe category of “male feminist who overdoes it and celebrates hating himself for his gender”: Matt McGorry, Wil Wheaton, Mark Ruffalo, etc.

Some of this stuff though, omg....

Cosmo [12 Sneaky Ways to tell if your BF is a Feminist] - No. 9 (4:04) “Last time you sighed and said “Men are the worst”, he patted you on the shoulder and said “I know, we really are”.

Double Yikes!™ Repeating what Sh0e and Skeptic say here because it’s perfectly on point: “the worst thing about this, is that this article (and ones similar to it) is openly encouraging that you reward men who hate themselves and that you only date men who hate themselves”.

TheTalko [13 Ways to turn your Man into a Feminist] - No. 9 (10:36) “Women will love him for it (being a feminist)”

The issue with this is, it’s such a huge feminist talking point that a person’s attractiveness to others or lack thereof should not be a point of shaming or reward, i.e. losing one’s virginity as a man should not be something which gives him value as a man. Yet...these articles are rewarding exactly that, “oh, if you do feminism, the ladies will find you SOOOO much more attractive”, this is pretty much giving men value purely through how attractive they are to women.

TheTalko [13 Ways to turn your Man into a Feminist] - No. 4 (11:37) “Let’s pretend you’re one religion and your bf is another religion. Would you like it if he tried to push his religion onto you? How would you feel if he told you his religion is the only right and true religion? You would probably get angry, right? Approach the topic of feminism in the same way.”

Omg, we’ve been saying all along that feminism is very religion-oriented in how it operates and here, they are even paralleling it. You couldn’t get a more perfect example of foot-in-mouth if you’d tried. Feminism OFTEN tells people that Feminism is the only right and true movement to Equality.

PopSugar [The 7-step Guide for turning Men into Feminists] - No. 4 (13:11) “Make the ‘Feminism is Manly’ argument. Tell him that all the cool, tough guys are doing it”

I have strong issue with this idea, and it occurred in one of the other articles that Sh0e and Skeptic were reviewing as well. My issue with this idea is that feminists constantly tell people that a) masculinity/manliness is toxic, and b) that no one should have to conform to gender roles. Yet...this is exactly rewarding gender role conformity by trying to appeal to someone’s gender roles. This is employing the whole “real men do/are X” argument, an argument that feminists consistently vocally express aversion to. Guess they don’t mind going back on their stance of this argument if it means recruiting more to the ranks after all. Nothing like being against peer pressure, unless it benefits your goals.

PopSugar [The 7-step Guide for turning Men into Feminists] - No. 6 (13:50) “Leave him no choice. Tell him that if he thinks the genders should have equal rights, he is inherently a feminist, whether he choose to identify as such or not”.

Cringe factor over 9000! I’m going to reiterate one quote from Christina Hoff Sommers that has always rang true about the feminist agenda.

“When people say ‘no’ to feminism, feminists don’t accept that ‘no’ means ‘no’“

Quite a rapey mindset these feminists have here, eh?

PopSugar [The 7-step Guide for turning Men into Feminists] - No. 7 (14:05) “"By that definition, I am a feminist”, my boyfriend eventually admitted. I got up, shook my head, and left the room (A little tactic I like to call ‘pretend-mad’), “Ashley?” he called out from the couch, “I am a feminist, I am!”. In the next room over, I smiled, I am so proud of him”.

If the last point was cringe factor over 9000, this one is factor over 1 million! This is disgusting and abusive behaviour. Making him scared of your tempermental emotions so that you subtlely coerce him into feeling he has to reconcile with your emotional state by obeying you, that is abusive af. This guy needs to get out of that relationship fast, because it is clear she will never listen or care about his personal opinions on anything and that if push comes to shove, she can just emotionally abuse him and cull him into obeying and doing what she wants and make him conform to what she thinks. Ew x 1000.

Buzzfeed [11 Simple Things Men can do for Feminism] - No. 7 (14:58) “11 Simple Things Men can do for Feminism”

From just the title alone, Sh0e and Skeptic rant perfectly on what’s really the point of articles like this.  “You know what’s funny about this? ‘For Feminism’, not even ‘for women’. Well, of course, if they (men) did things ‘for women’, it wouldn’t necessarily be ‘for feminism’. ‘Cause we all know feminism isn’t actually about women, feminism is about perpetuating feminism. Feminism is about the survival of feminism. Feminism is about the growth of feminism. Feminism is about the strength of feminism. Feminism is about the control feminism has on the world. Feminism is not about women.”