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cartoonrival · 1 year

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So, how was Naruto?

ok im using this ask as my full review post. it was simultaneously tear-your-hair-out garbage and world-alteringly incredible. would i recommend watching it? NO. am i glad i spent two weeks doing basically nothing other than watching it? yes. idk how much detail i went into initially about why i wanted to watch it to begin with, but (and im not SUPER sure how accurate this is) from my perspective the impact that naruto has had on fandom culture seems absolutely MASSIVE, and i HAD to experience it for myself because of that. sasunaru was absolutely a large part of that, considering they are something of the poster child of shipping rival leads (especially in anime fanbases), so even though i knew that they would be shipped together regardless of how much they actually cared for each other in canon, the MASSIVE popularity and the tiny snippets of them that i'd seen made me kind of crazy desperate to see how real it was.

the strongest aspect of the series is ABSOLUTELY naruto and sasuke, and sasuke and itachi. really what i loved most about naruto was that the author pulled NO punches in demonstrating how deep these characters love for one another actually ran. this isnt extrapolation or exaggeration when i say that i have NEVER in all my days seen "love that ruins" like how these characters love each other.

naruto on his own isnt a WILDLY unique character. without watching the show you could guess what sort of person he is and probably be right. BUT his biggest strengths def come in how he interacts with other people, and his endless dedication to sasuke is a PRIMARY example of that. one by one, EVERYBODY is giving up on sasuke. hes doing terrible things, no one has seen him, they just catch wind of the awful things he's done, but naruto still REFUSES to let him go. and it is TEARING him to pieces. he's losing sleep over it for YEARS. he grovels in the snow for sasuke's honor, he dreams about him he cries over him all his friends turn on him over sasuke and he fucking refuses to accept that sasuke's too far gone. sasuke is desperate to forget the bond he had with naruto , his one and only friend (direct quote), not just because he feels like the weakness of having that bond is holding him back but also because he doesn't feel like he deserves it. he doesnt GET why naruto loves him so much and its making him crazy. he's desperate to make him stop, even if that means killing him just to be alone again, to bear the hate of the world alone so that the world can find peace in his place. they love each other so so so deeply and understand one another like no one else could ever dream to, and i've never seen such unfiltered devotion in my LIFE.

the lore of the series itself is quite muddy and overcomplicated, particularly everything relating to historical conflicts. the specifics of itachi's story, to me, are kind of contrived and feel sort of like the author himself didnt know exactly what itachi's real motivation was going to be when he initially wrote him killing all the uchiha. the lore dumps are dense and dreadful to wade through. i personally deeply hate the idea of sasuke and naruto being the reincarnated souls of two brothers who've been at each others throats for lifetimes grappling for their own ideas of peace. now part of this is because i do not think sasuke and naruto's relationship is particularly brotherly, but mostly its because i hate the idea that STILL their lives are being dictated by fate and the reason that they care for each other so deeply is because their souls are tied by a cosmic bond instead of because they are two people who chose to care for one another independently.

i personally feel there is a valuable simplicity to just. these two love each other, and their story is reflected by the past relationships between madara and the first hokage whos name i forget, and also by two guys before them, and it has created a cycle that repeatedly fails but maybe the strength of the bonds that have been built by naruto and sasuke and the people close to them can finally break free of that. like things can reflect the past, and i think that means more than it actually BEING the past. this is def an opinion that i dont expect to be widely agreed upon because i know complex lore and prophecies and shit ARE popular, but i personally feel that the complexity of everything with kaguya and her sons and the sage of six paths couldve been watered down and made for a stronger story. CHOOSING to live how you are means so so much more than living that way because fate dictates that you do. and i know there was an element of self determination in sasuke and naruto being able to break free of that cycle, but the fact that they were in it to begin with was because of reborn souls and shit. which i dont like.

along with the lore dumps dragging on, fights can also drag on like craaaaazy. not even just fights that are very plot significant (im fine with those being long, fights between naruto and sasuke are beautifully animated and i could watch them for hours), but literally just random ass conflicts with minor villains and minor characters take for fucking ever and its exhausting. like there is a lot of shit that we didnt need.

and obviously. the series is DEEPLY sexist. worst ive seen in a LONG time. the shoehorned romance made me want to scream, it is genuinely demeaning watching hinata and sakura pine after naruto and sasuke. i dont think ALL the girl characters suck (i do actually like sakura even though her crush on sasuke makes me want to kill someone, tsunade is genuinely one of my fave characters, i think temari is really cool and fun, i wish we'd gotten more of tenten), but it is POTENTLY obvious that kishimoto doesnt see women as people and it makes a LOT of scenes DEEPLY painful to watch. ive talked about this quite extensively so i won't rehash it all here but it is BAD. i was honestly surprised by how little the girls are sexualized, but he makes up for that by only having three personality traits that girls are allowed to have. and one of those is "obsessed with naruto or sasuke to the point of it being a health concern."

TL;DR, naruto has very strong character relationships and themes of how love can make you stronger but also ruin you, but the lore is terribly muddy and the way its presented makes a lot of it very boring. kishimoto hates women so much its insane. ive been changed on a fundamental level. every m/m rivals ship that has come after this is a sorry attempt to recreate sasunaru whether the people shipping those characters realize it or not

#asks157 #nrto #meta157 #<- ive mostly retired this tag (mostly because i forget to use it) but this post needs to be findable again (by me))

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daisychainsandbowties · 9 months

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5, 7, 16, 17 please!

5. what work are you most proud of (regardless of kudos/hits)?

have to say luminous beings, my star wars au. there are other fics i’m more… fond of, in some ways, but i put so much of myself into star wars au, and parts of other people too. especially shannon, who was borrowed from someone else, & i remember which shanmary scenes i wrote to torment them specifically. shannon’s ship being called the wasabi was their idea too, based on a dumb dads hc. so yeah, i guess it feels like a time capsule to me, a little, and in that sense i’m proud of what it’ll always mean to me.

7. If you use song lyrics, which artist’s songs did you pull from the most?

i use poems, actually, to name my fics most often. apart from LB which is just from the yoda quote “luminous beings are we, not this crude matter” and orbital mechanics which is the name of a wikipedia article. but based on that… maybe danez smith is the poet whose work i use most for titles? epigraphs are split evenly between ocean vuong and siken, but yeah the titles of wardmates and chess au are both from “don’t call us dead” (which is essential reading imo) i tend to get the… thematic kick that a lot of people get out of song lyrics from poems instead so yeah 🥰💖

16. What’s your most common “Additional Tags” tag?

i don’t tend to use any additional tag more than once, but my most common one probably should be “Dead Dove Do Not Eat” 🫠🫠 considering. but then i tend to post my most henious stuff direct to tumblr (or bebdbd ✝️ anonymously in other people’s inbox)

17. Your favourite character to write this year?

Ava!!!

it’s always my little respawning blood-drenched beach-loving bisexual jesus who brings me the most joy to write.

bea & lilith are like… driving while it’s raining blood, but ava POV tends to flow really easily. writing star wars au chapter 3 and chess au and her pjo au chapter and pokemon au was some of the most fun i had writing this year (with the exception of 🍆 saga)

and, like it or not, i have a very similar personality to ava, so her voice is like talking instead of thinking.

#ty storms! 💖🥰🥰#ao3 wrapped #ask #the most proud of one was really hard because i’m just happy that i started writing again this year 🥰💖🥹

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elriell · 3 years

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Two Mates? Elriel & (El)ucien Theory.

These are just a few of my thoughts compiled together regarding having two mates, the signs and breadcrumbs Sarah has incorporated. If you know me you know am a Lucien fan so this is nothing hateful towards him and we will be looking at his place within it all as well, that being said this will have bond rejection/misalignment talk so if that is not your cup of tea I understand and you can skip this! As always I would love to hear everyones thoughts so long as we are all respectful ♡

Let's start by discussing the where the two ships align and parallel mates behaviour, and then we will discuss where their arc's veer from each other...

“TOUCH HER, SMELL HER, TASTE HER– THE INSTINCTS WERE A RUNNING RIVER.” (Lucien in ACOWAR about the mating bond.)

“Letting his scarred fingers touch her immaculate skin. Letting them brush the side of her throat, savoring the velvet-soft texture.”

“Azriel's fingers lingered at her nape, atop the first knob of her spine. Slowly, Elain pivoted into his touch. Until his palm lay flat against her neck.”

“They'd exchanged looks, the occasional brush of their fingers, but never this. Never blatant, unrestricted touching. ”

“He prayed she didn't peer down. Prayed she didn't understand the shift in his scent. ”

“Her arousal drifted up to him, and his eyes nearly rolled back in his head at the sweet scent. He'd beg on his knees for a chance to taste it. ”

“He needed to know what the skin of her neck tasted like. What those perfect lips tasted like.”

“This one moment, and maybe a taste, and that would be it.

“Yes" Elain breathed, like she read the decision. Just this taste in the dead of the longest night of the year, where only the Mother might witness them. ”

Now you can easily parallel this to any of SJM's mates, like Feysand or Nessian. But for the sake of brevity I will leave you with the original link to the wonderful @suelky post where it was pointed out w/ Feysand quotes as well. [source]

Also "The instincts were a running river.” sounds a little like “Azriel’s Siphons guttered, the stones turning as dark and foreboding as the deepest sea."

The Bonus POV has a lot of typical "Mates" behaviours manifesting between Elain and Azriel, and it would make sense this would be a extreme POV shift as we have never been inside either of their heads before so we were bound to have a major learning curve, especially with Az who is so reserved with his emotions.

“But Lucien’s attention went right to the hallway toward the back, his nostrils flaring as he scented Elain’s direction. And who she’d gone with. A low snarl slipped out of him—”

“So you will leave Elain alone. If you need to fuck someone, go to a pleasure hall and pay for it, but stay away from her." Azriel snarled softly.”

There are countless main trio parallels but most of you are aware of which one is my favourite...

“Knelt on those stars and mountains inked on his knees. He would bow for no one and nothing— But his mate. His equal.”

“Her arousal drifted up to him, and his eyes nearly rolled back in his head at the sweet scent. He'd beg on his knees for a chance to taste it.”

"Every instinct in his body came roaring to the surface, so violent he had to choke them with a brutal grip or else he'd find himself on his knees, begging her for touch, for anything."

And on to where they go their separate ways from a textual perspective;

"Elain only shrank further into herself, no trace of that newfound boldness to be seen.”

“Rhys kissed the hollow of my collarbone, and my core went utterly molten. “My brave, bold, brilliant mate.”

“You can give everyone that I Will Slay My Enemies look—which is my favorite look, by the way. You can keep that sharpness I like so much, that boldness and fearlessness. I don’t want you to ever lose those things, to cage yourself.”

“And he had the nerve once his powers were back to shove me into a cage. The nerve to say I was no longer useful; I was to be cloistered for his peace of mind.”

“Remember that you are a wolf. And you cannot be caged.” He kissed my brow one more time, my blood thrumming and boiling in me, howling to draw blood.”

I think finding freedom and power from within is something that the books have emphasized through Feysand and Nessian's journey's. Which is so interesting considering Lucien and Elain are both feeling tied to each other, as if in a cage of sorts.

Elain herself has been stuffed in to a box of other peoples making throughout most of the series, it quite prevalent she might feel caged by their opinions of who she is.

"Maybe she was never given a chance to be that way." I whipped my head towards him. "You think I stifle her?" Rhys held up his hands. "Not you alone."

“Nesta had been right. It was like a prison, this place.” [Graysen's Manor]

“Shall I tend to my little garden forever?” When Nesta flinched, Elain said, “You can’t have it both ways. You cannot resent my decision to lead a small, quiet life while also refusing to let me do anything greater.”

“She ignored me, and saw Elain as barely more than a doll to dress up, but Nesta was hers. Our mother made sure we knew it. Or she just cared so little what we thought or did that she didn’t bother to hide it from us.”

And as for Lucien I think his duty and honour to her is what is caging him;

“I can’t stand to be in the same room as her for more than two minutes. I can’t stand to be in this court and have your mate pay for the very clothes on my back.”

“Why are you here?” Cassian asked, unable to help the sharpness. “Where’s Elain?”

“I am not always in this city to see my mate.” The last two words dripped with discomfort.”

“Why?” Not a flicker of emotion. “He is Elain’s mate.”

I waited. “It would be an invasion of her privacy to track him.”

Godbless Azriel for respecting Elain's privacy.

I think we would see/understand a lot more if we got a chance inside their heads but the one time we did see Lucien's POV we got a good glimpse at how he feels about his situation with Elain and it wasn't particularly positive and reminded me of Rhy's parents.

"She’d seen him not as a High Lord’s seventh son, but as a male. Had loved him without question, without hesitation. She had chosen him. Elain had been … thrown at him.”

“...to remember that she picked it. Picked me. That it’s not like my parents, shoved together.”

Not using the word cage per say but the implication isn't much better.

“You know them better than I do. But I will say that Lucien is loyal—fiercely so.”

“So is Azriel.”

I don't think the debate is really whether Lucien is deserving of her, or even Azriel for that matter, it is a question of who is actually right for her and vice-versa, who has she been consistently written to thrive and smile alongside. And that is Azriel.

Why does Sarah constantly put Azriel in the picture, from day DOT. She was screaming "hey look Azriel is here, and they would work magically together"

“And I think Elain—Elain would like it, too. Though she’d probably cling to Azriel, just to have some peace and quiet.” I smiled at the thought—at how handsome they would be together.”

There are several instances/evens that occur throughout the series that set both Elucien and Elriel's relationships apart, and I think it is highly intentional on Sarah's part...

“I said quietly, “We will get her back.” But Lucien was watching me warily. Too warily.”

“From the shadows near the entrance to the tent, Azriel said, as if in answer to some unspoken debate, “I’m getting her back.” Nesta slid her gaze to the shadowsinger. Azriel’s hazel eyes glowed golden in the shadows. Nesta said, “Then you will die.” Azriel only repeated, rage glazing that stare, “I’m getting her back.”

Or we can look at both Solstice's and the clear differences in how their relationships are growing, and also how well one and other know each other.

“Tell me when you knew,” he demanded, his knee pressing into mine. “That Rhysand was your mate. Tell me when you stopped loving Tamlin and started loving him instead.”

“He left the rest unspoken. Because her mate was here, sleeping a level up. Because her mate had been in the family room and Azriel had needed to stay by the door the whole time because he couldn't stand the sight of it, the scent of their mating bond, and needed to have the option of leaving if it became too much. Elain's large brown eyes flickered, well aware of all that.”

“I want to see her. Just once. Just—to know.” “To know what?” He hitched my damp cloak higher around us. “If she is worth fighting for.”

“Azriel stiffened. “I know. I helped rescue Elain, after all.” Az hadn’t so much as hesitated before going into the heart of Hybern’s war-camp.”

GIFTS REFLECTING THEIR RELATIONSHIP MILE MARKS

“Az ran a hand through his dark hair. “Are we …” Unusual for him to stumble with words. “Are we supposed to get the sisters presents?”

“I handed Elain the small box with her name on it. Her smile faded as she opened it. “Enchanted gloves,” she read from the card. “That won’t tear or become too sweaty while gardening.” She set aside the box without looking at it for longer than a moment. And I wondered if she preferred to have torn and sweaty hands, if the dirt and cuts were proof of her labor. Her joy.”

“Don’t forget that gardening often results in something pretty, but it involves getting one’s hands dirty along the way.” “And torn up by thorns,” I mused,”

“I didn’t dare mention that if she had been wearing the enchanted gloves Lucien had gotten her last Solstice, nothing would have pierced them at all.”

“He and Lucien did not exchange gifts, though the male had brought a gift for Feyre and one for his mate, who barely thanked him after opening the pearl earrings. Cassian’s heart strained at the pain etching deep into Lucien’s face as he tried to hide his disappointment and longing."

Not only is she visibly uninterested which is painful to watch, it also highlights how little he knows about her. SJM is creating a visible gap in their dynamic.

“The golden necklace seemed ordinary -- its chain unremarkable, the amulet tiny enough that it could be dismissed as an everyday charm. It was a small, flat rose fashioned of stained glass, designed so that when held to the light, the true depth of the colors would become visible. A thing of secret, lovely beauty. “It's beautiful," she whispered, lifting it from the box. ”

“My Nesta. Elain shall wed for love and beauty, but you, my cunning little queen … You shall wed for conquest.”

“I painted flowers for Elain on her drawer,” I said, sawing and sawing. “Little roses and begonias and irises. And for Nesta … ”

“She plucked another figurine from the mantel: a rose carved from a dark sort of wood. She held it in her palm, its solid weight surprising, and traced a finger over one of the petals. “He made this one for Elain. Since it was winter and she missed the flowers.”

“Elain bit her lip and then smiled sheepishly. “It’s for the headaches everyone always gives you. Since you rub your temples so often.”

“I led her into the sitting room, where Cassian had a bottle of amber-colored liquor in each hand, Azriel was already rubbing his temples,”

“She hadn't bought her mate a present. But she'd gotten Azriel one last year -- a headache powder he kept on his nightstand at the House of Wind. Not to use, but just to look at. Which he'd done every night he’d slept there.”

“Azriel unwrapped the box, glancing at the card that merely said, You might find these useful at the House these days, and then opened the lid. Two small, bean-shaped fabric blobs lay within. Elain murmured, "You put them in your ears, and they block any sound. With Nesta and Cassian living there with you...”

See yet again a very thoughtful and funny gift on her part. Now at it's core even just simply comparing their general reactions says a lot about the story Sarah is putting forward.

"Silence again. Then Azriel tipped his head back and laughed. I’d never heard such a sound, deep and joyous.”

“He chuckled, unable to suppress the impulse. "No wonder you didn't want me to open it in front of everyone."

Elain’s mouth twitched into a smile. "Nesta wouldn't appreciate the joke.”

“Elain bit her lip and then smiled sheepishly."

"Cassian’s heart strained at the pain etching deep into Lucien’s face as he tried to hide his disappointment and longing."

“She hadn't bought her mate a present. "

The writing is nothing if not clear about the discomfort both Lucien and Elain feel in regards to each other, though they lay under different reasons.

We are given multiple incidents in which we are told about how mating bonds are not perfect and we are given clear examples of it repeatedly, about woman enduring out of obligation, and do not forget this is heavily discussed literally in regards to Elain and her circumstances.

“She’d been revealed as his mate, and endured the miserable union mostly from gratitude for her unharmed wings.”

“You said your mother and father were wrong for each other; Tamlin said his own parents were wrong for each other.” I peeled off my dressing robe. “So it can’t be a perfect system of matching. "

“She glowed with good health. Except … Her brown eyes were wary. Usually, that look was reserved for Lucien. The male was definitely in the family room,”

“Elain had already departed with Feyre, claiming she had to be up with the dawn to tend to an elderly faerie’s garden. Cassian didn’t exactly know why he suspected this wasn’t true. There had been some tightness in Elain’s face as she’d said it. Normally when she made such excuses, Lucien was around,”

“Elain, the wretch, had taken the seat between Feyre and Varian, about as far from Lucien as she could get.”

“That smile grew, bright enough that it lit up even Azriel’s shadows across the room. “I would like to build a garden,” she declared. “After all of this … I think the world needs more gardens.”

“Then his gaze shifted to Elain, and though it was utterly neutral, something charged went through it. Between them. Elain’s breath caught slightly, and she gave him a shallow nod of greeting before brushing past, leading Nesta into the room.”

What if ”—I jerked my chin toward the window, to my sister and the shadowsinger in the garden—“that is what she needs? Is there no free will? What if Lucien wishes the union but she doesn’t?”

“Can you truly fly?” He set down his fork, blinking. I might have even called him self-conscious. He said, “Yes. Cassian and I hail from a race of faeries called Illyrians. We’re born hearing the song of the wind.” “That’s very beautiful,” she said. “Is it not—frightening, though? To fly so high?”

“ I couldn’t tell if she was looking at his blue Siphon or at his scarred skin beneath as she breathed, “Beautiful.” Color bloomed high on Azriel’s golden-brown cheeks, but he inclined his head in thanks and led my sister toward the back doors into the garden, sunlight bathing them.”

“This is Truth-Teller,” he told her softly. “I won’t be using it today—so I want you to.”

“Never, Rhys said from where he finished buckling on his own weapons against the side of the wagon. I have never once seen Azriel let another person touch that knife.”

The romantic subtext is there and has been for quite some time, they prove it book after book when SJM continues to grow their bond and nurture it whilst breaking her connection with Lucien further apart, and for what reason?

“A mating bond can be rejected,” Rhys said mildly, eyes flickering in the mirror as he drank in every inch of bare skin I had on display. “There is choice. And sometimes, yes—the bond picks poorly. Sometimes, the bond is nothing more than some… preordained guesswork at who will provide the strongest offspring. At its basest level, it’s perhaps only that. Some natural function, not an indication of true, paired souls.”

“Why not make them mates?” I mused. “Why Lucien?” [...]

“I’m serious.” I turned toward him and crossed my arms. “What decides it? Who decides it?” Rhys straightened his lapels before plucking an invisible piece of lint from them. “Fate, the Mother, the Cauldron’s swirling eddies …”

“What if the Cauldron was wrong?”

“Just this taste in the dead of the longest night of the year, where only the Mother might witness them.”

“The Cauldron chose three sisters. Tell me how it's possible that my two brothers are with two of those sisters, yet the third was given to another.”

It is remarkably interesting to me that we are told about what Rhys suspects/believes is responsible for mating bonds, paralleled alongside Azriel questioning it all, I also think it is abundantly clear from his answer to Feyre he doesn't truly know for sure.

We also have several lines of dialogue talking about the sisters and fate, their reason for entering the IC's life. Not only that but we get a glimpse at Azriel's personality and how despite the world (Rhys and the mating bond in general) telling him to despair, he still found it in him to have hope the Cauldron could be wrong.

This is so significant, and she has carefully woven his character throughout the series to make this incredibly plausible.

“If I had not met a shadowsinger, I would not have known that it is the family you make, not the one you are born into, that matters. I would not have known what it is to truly hope, even when the world tells you to despair.”

“And then he said to my sisters, “We have not known each other for long. But I have to believe that you were brought here, into our family, for a reason, too. And maybe today we’ll find out why.”

“All three sisters blessed by fate and gifted with powers to match your own.”

“Even after the bond is rejected, they see her as belonging to them. Sometimes they return to challenge the male she chooses for herself. Sometimes it ends in death. It is savage, and it is ugly, and it mercifully does not happen often, but …”

“Oh, I can, and I will. If Lucien finds out you're pursuing her, he has every right to defend their bond as he sees fit. Including invoking the Blood Duel.”

As you can see even back in ACOWAR she was weaving the web for Elriel's journey and an upcoming Blood Duel/The threat of one.

“Many mated pairs will try to make it work, believing the Cauldron selected them for a reason. Only years later will they realize that perhaps the pairing was not ideal in spirit.”

I think it is pretty clear from all the quotes above that Lucien is no her ideal spirit and vice-versa to be frank when you put it side by side his budding relationship with Vassa or hers with Azriel they are clearly very different.

“On the continent, there are territories that believe the females literally belong to their mate. But not here. Elain would have our full protection if she rejects the bond.”

“Azriel's hand slid up her neck, burying in her thick hair. Tilting her face the way he wanted it. Elain's mouth parted slightly, her eyes scanning his before fluttering shut. Offer and permission. He nearly groaned with relief and need as he lowered his head toward hers. ”

Elain is choosing Azriel, choosing their bond over the one assigned to her time and time again... Back to mating bonds;

“The ancient healer jerked her chin toward Lucien. “See what he can do. If anyone can sense if something is amiss, it’s a mate.”

“The mating bond. It is a bridge between souls.”

"She pointed at Lucien as she saw herself out. “Try sitting down with her. Just talking—sensing. See what you pick up. But don’t push.”

“Can you hear mine?” He wasn’t sure if she truly meant to address him, but he said, “No, lady. I cannot.”

Her too-thin shoulders seemed to curve inward. “No one ever does. No one ever looked—not really.”

"Azriel’s hazel eyes churned as he studied my sister, her too-thin body. And without a word, he winnowed away. Mor watched the space where he’d been standing long after he was gone.”

“Should we—does she need …?” “She doesn’t need anything,” Azriel answered without so much as looking at Lucien.

Elain was staring at the spymaster now—unblinkingly. “We’re the ones who need …” Azriel trailed off. “A seer,” he said, more to himself than us. “The Cauldron made you a seer.”

“It made sense, I supposed, that Azriel alone had listened to her. The male who heard things others could not … Perhaps he, too, had suffered as Elain had before he understood what gift he possessed.”

“But Azriel nodded. “You knew,” he said to Elain. “About the young queen turning into a crone.” Elain blinked and blinked, eyes clearing again. As if the understanding, our understanding … it freed her from whatever murky realm she’d been in.”

Are you telling me that Madja saying a mate would know, would sense whatever is going on with her, and as it turns out Azriel was the one to sense and uncover it is solely what, a coincidence? Also to emphasize what she said about "A bridge between souls..." Where else have we heard that terminology? The Truth-Teller scene.

“I saw the painting in my mind: the lovely fawn, blooming spring vibrant behind her. Standing before Death, shadows and terrors lurking over his shoulder. Light and dark, the space between their bodies a blend of the two. The only bridge of connection … that knife.”

Not to mention this scene is simply iconic for a multitude of reasons, how poetic Feyre describes them, the clear soulmates/ying-yang subtext and him giving her something he has given no other but that's another story.

Azriel has also been displaying some very protective fiercely so mating vibes towards her,

“Azriel stilled. “What happened to Elain?” Cassian waved a hand. “A fight with Nesta. Don’t bring it up,” he warned when Azriel’s eyes darkened. ”

“Cassian surveyed the shadows gathered around Az. “You all right?” His brother nodded. “Fine.” But shadows still swarmed him.”

“Nesta saw the blow land, like a physical impact, in Elain’s face, her posture. No one spoke, though shadows gathered in the corners of the room, like snakes preparing to strike.”

“Azriel’s Siphons guttered, the stones turning as dark and foreboding as the deepest sea. “Where did Lucien go.”

I think there are some mixed opinions on Lucien and whether he deserves her (and vice-versa in this fandom) but I don't think that is what this comes down too, they are both handling it in the way they think best/following their instincts.

Lucien is hurting throughout this process as well, but I think ultimately it is honor and loyalty binding him to her not any genuine emotion for her as a human being fae. I think realising they are not meant for each other and supporting each other developing true bonds with other people will be their journey. And it would be a completely fresh and new view of a mating bond.

Smaller pieces of dialogue that need little explaining and a rather oddly specific choice of words in the latest book that is meant to set up the next one in the series:

“You’d know if she’d died,” Azriel said, pausing his work and looking up at Cassian. He tapped his brother’s chest with a scarred hand. “Right here—you’d know, Cass.”

“Elain and Feyre—that was the new status of things. The bond Elain had chosen.”

"I'd never do such a thing. you must be thinking of your other mate."

Honestly? At this rate I have no doubt Elriel are endgame and everything within canon text spells that out but I truly believe he will be her second mate/the will form a bond via some circumstance that shall arise due to these little hints.

I would love to hear your thoughts and/or additions because I by all means didn't do a massive deep dive and there are most likely tons more examples to add but I didn't want it to become overwhelming to read!

Hope everyone has a spectacular and magical evening <3

#elriel #elain archeron #azriel #elain x azriel #azriel x elain #acotar #acosf #acowar #acomaf #a court of thorns and roses #elriel mates #elriel theories #elriel metas #anti elucien #tb safe and all that #dont want it falling in the wrong tag #c

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homieswithhades · 3 years

Text

why steve rogers returning to the past was wrong

disclaimer: im clearly a stucky enthusiast, but please, do not be thrown off by that. i admit, there may be undertones of bias because of that in the following, but i did my best with trying to lay out the facts and draw logical conclusions, so do please give me a chance. also, i may have accidentaly omitted some moments and some quotes may not be 100% word for word, as my memory lowkey sucks. ALSO this is NOT a peggy hate post!! i think shes a dope and underrated character and quite frankly she was done dirty. but i also definitely h8 the trope of badass woman falls for the hero.

first and foremost, every sane person knows endgame was complete and utter bullshit when dealing with steves character, so this post will be more for you to maybe show (and hopefully convince) some stubborn friend or family member. nice, concise (not) and including proof from the movies (+a few tweets and stucky undertones, if u dont fw that i respect it but bucky is an integral part to steves character regardless of how u interpret their relationship) here is why steves character development was thrown away at the end of endgame.

let us begin at looking at the cap trilogy.

in ca:tfa it should be noted that steve had no one to return to in the 40s, except bucky. i believe steves relationship with peggy was no where near as developed as it should have been to elicit him returning exclusively for her. as we are aware, steves driving force has absolutely always been bucky. bucky was there for steve after his parents died, when he was sick, and always protected him from whatever trouble he got himself into. "until the end of the line" right? steves relationship with peggy was forced and short lived, literally, we're talking a matter of months here. i need to keep emphasising the important disparity between bucky and peggy, as it is absolutely key in this whole argument. steve dropped everything and went against every order just to even attempt to save bucky. even the slightest chance of him surviving being captured was enough for steve to break into a hydra camp and free the 107th division. steve even had the chance to capture zola, one of the main villains and masterminds of the war, but again, steve prioritised bucky. when theyre trying to escape the exploding hydra camp, the exchange between steve and bucky is critical. steve says "go! get out of here!" as all he wanted was bucky escaping safely. he put bucky's life over his own (this wasnt the first time he did this, nor the last) but bucky rooted himself to the spot, and yelled back "no, not without you!". they both escaped safely as we know, and then steve gathers the howling commandos to take down the red skull. bucky then falls off the train, nd steve blames himself for his death, even visibly crying over it twice. steves morals went from "i dont wanna kill anyone. i dont like bullies, i dont care where theyre from" before buckys death, to "i wont stop until all of hydra are dead or captured" after. stuff happens and steve defeats the red skull and is now in control of the flying ship with the bombs. he connects the comms with peggy and she tries to convince him theres another way to disarm the ship. steve was so dedicated at that point he didnt even want to hear it. he didnt even attempt to do anything to ensure his survival. this alone proves, peggy was not important enough to him to return to.

next is ca:tws. The stevebucky movie. in the museum, peggy confirms that steve saved the man from the 107th division who eventually became her husband (steve was never in the 107th, just to clarify) i believe her husbands name was daniel sousa (as revealed in the marvels agents of shield show) steve then finds out peggy is alive and talks to her. she, in short, tells him she's lived her life, and it was his turn to live his in the time hes in. the "my best girl" line was unnecessary and out of place; again, steve barely knew her. again, shit goes down, and steve finds out the winter soldier is bucky and immediately drops everything, and becomes dead set on saving him. not killing, not imprisoning, but saving him. no matter the cost. "he saw me, and he didnt even know me" "hes not the kind you save, hes the kind you stop. he won't recognise you" "he will." god, steve KNEW bucky would recognise him. regardless of the brainwashing, steve managed to break through the barrier hydra fought so hard to drill into buckys mind. nothing ever broke him out of that state exept for steve. "im not gonna fight you, youre my friend." "youre my mission" "then finish it. cos im with you till the end of the line." [[good fucking lord let me break out of my essay-esque semi professional format here and just say how fucking heartbreaking those lines are. oh my god. read them, over and over until it hits you.]] steve shows us again, that he is willing to not only die for bucky, but literally die by his hand. he would let bucky kill him. he'd dropped his shield. he didnt fight back. steve always, always, ALWAYS got up and fought back. always. exept that time. the time bucky could have killed him. that scene is the essence of "im with you till the end of the line" because then, it was true. it was true because steve was okay with dying at buckys mercy. theres a difference between sacrificing yourself for the greater good (steve going into the ice), willing to die for someone (steve risking his life multiple times in attempts to save bucky) and finally, being willing to let someone kill you, because you love and trust them so much (hellicarier scene). the difference between peggy and bucky's relationship to steve is that steve may be willing to die for either, but only willing to be killed by one. not to mention, bucky pulled steve from the river. he recognised him. steve broke through 70 years of brainwashing with such impact it literally drove bucky away from hydra out of his own free will.

in between ca:tws and ca:cw its confirmed (im p sure sam says it) that him and steve looked for bucky for two. years. even off screen, bucky was steves priority.

im going to squeeze in 2 points from from age of ultron here, for chronology's sake:

steves worst nightmare, as portayed in the movie, is LITERALLY going back to the 40s and being stuck there (with peggy too??lmfao) and also the quote "family, stability, the man who wanted all that went in the ice 75 years ago. i think another one came out." objectively confirms that steve isn't the man he used to be, and doesnt want to return to the past. aou may have sucked, but that doesn't mean the character development should be thrown away.

ca:cw. hoo boy. steve went against 117 countries and half of his closest friends and colleagues because he believed bucky was innocent of the bombing of the un conference. god, steve quite literally, did everything to defend and protect bucky. though i shall acknowledge that steve did attend peggy's funeral, however, there was no real connotations there other than the fact he was mourning her death (understabdibly so). steve then proceeds to protect bucky for 2 hours 27 mins and 41 seconds to the point where they escape together to siberia after the airport fight. "i dont know if im worth all this steve" "what you did all those years... it wasnt you. you didnt have a choice." "i know. but i did it" again, absolutely heartbreaking quotes if you read it a couple of times and truly understand the meaning of them. steve somewhat indirectly tells bucky yes, yes he is worth all of this. otherwise, he wouldn't be doing it. a quote to support that would be "for the longest time, i always did what i thought was right." (disclaimer this is not a direct quote i deadass couldnt find it to save my life, i belive steve said it at some point during civil war or tws, but the point is, bucky is the only thing that could have shaken steves morals so intensely.) and finally, the most important part of cw, the fight at the end with tony. bucky and steve constantly protected each other. steve kept fighting because he was fighting for bucky. to keep him safe from tony and the world. he got up, time and time again. "i can do this all day." the fact that he said that to tony, some people consider them the closest of friends, proves again, a million times over, bucky is more important to steve than literally anything else, INCLUDING his shield. his mantle. he dropped it and left it like it was nothing, because his priority was bucky. as always.

theres not much to discuss for infinity war other than their hug whicg was honestly just adorable.

mmmmm endgame. i will not go into how much i hate that movie because it would be a rant quintuple the length of this one. in the support group, steve dead ass fucking says "you gotta move on. you gotta move on" and that sentiment was literally forgotten at the end. my main point for endgame is this. people tend to tell me, the reason steve abandoned bucky and went back to be with peggy is because he knew that he was finally safe. :/. if you had half a braincell youd know that's not true. the steve we know, never would have left bucky for good, ESPECIALLY after the "dont do anything stupid until i get back" exchange [[god i want to beat the shit out of the r*ssos]] mostly because, bucky had fucking no one in the time he was living in!!! no family, no friends and most heartbreakingly, no one he could trust. (yes sam was there but were just seeing their friendship develop now in tfatws, all that wasnt there in endgame) and secondly, what made steve think bucky was entirely safe??? half of the worlds population just suddenly reappeared, which as we see now, there were massive consequences for that. i simply believe steve is not that stupid. steve going back was disrespectful not only to his character, but to bucky AND peggy. most importantly, the steve we've been watching since 2011 would NEVER abandon bucky, no matter how safe he thought he was (he visited him frequently in wakanda, the safest place on the planet arguably ffs) especially for such a dumbass and quite frankly, nonsensical reason as going back to be with peggy, who clearly stated to him she moved on, and so should he (which he did. idk endgame writers prolly didnt watch the previous movies :/) its not even debatable. bucky is more important to steve than peggy. even in terms of screentime.

now allow some tweets to speak for me, this one being the absolute most important one:

ladies and gentlefolk, all of the stuff ive said can be summarised in that last line. "it would be contrary to who he is."

heres some more:

and now finally, id like to briefly mention steve and tfatws, so beware of spoilers (writing this as of ep 4 coming out; praying it doesn't age badly)

bucky mentions steve, unprompted, fucking constantly. he clearly isnt over steve leaving, and im hoping that gets acknowledged and talked out in the show.

in conclusion, tl:dr, steve shouldn't have returned to the past and stayed there, it is contrary to who he is, as shown to us through his trilogy and other appearances in the mcu. not to mention the timeline bullshit in endgame makes zero sense in the first place.

#long post #stucky #captain america #steve rogers #mcu #marvel #tfatws #bucky barnes #peggy carter #hwh's marvel thoughts #please dont bullshit me in the comments also i dont have the strength #imma hide this in the tags praying no 1 will b bothered to look but steve and bucky gay #everytime some1 calls their relationship brotherly it takes 10 years off my life nd makes me wanna impale myself ❤#also no beta we die like men #my meta

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ranboo5 · 3 years

Note

whats 'the clip' and knifetrick?

Augh. Under the cut for shipping discourse and p/dophilia ment (nothing graphic or specific). Gets long bc I discuss my thoughts on DSMP shipping in general. You are setting me up fr anon

Some quick vocab -

intimacy here is used to refer to. Well. Any kind of intimacy between characters, of any sort, as an umbrella term /r, /p, and /qp here are used as shorteners to denote "romantic," "platonic," and "queerplatonic," both as adjectives And as verbs ("to /r" = "to portray romantically") shipping here is used to refer to any focused examination of intimacy between characters

And some clarity that Should follow from the essay next but may not - """anti-antis"""" and RPF writers delete forever

The Clip is from one of if not the? most recent Discord stage(s) Mr Live has done (which I missed when it was live RIP) wherein he issues a hard ban on shipping him ("do not ship me, in any way, with anyone!") which would less influence c!beeduo (which has been portrayed/stated to be romantic AND nonromantic both conflictingly for a while until being confirmed unconfirmed several months ago, that being the last was heard) without its direct invocation if he hadn't also cited for the reason as being underage ("'Cause, one, it's straight up pedophilia") which is! a) immediately applicable to At Least his DSMP character, Partially and b) while not Strictly True (should b obvious that portraying a relationship within the bounds of what it is in canon and in a nonsexual way is not That, and /r-ing c!beeduo etc was possible to do Appropriately again by remaining w/in the bounds of canon) is Clearly Indicative of the fact that baggage-wise it IS associated with people being fucking creeps

This Really complicates things bc like okay the apparent solution is "lol just don't /r it" but it's really like. A Worse issue than that bc like.

Okay the reason shipping in terms of fictional characters is a Different Bar is bc it's an examination of Intimacy and certain lines exist in certain dynamics of intimacy that Isn't Shown (which is the whole Within The Bounds Of Canon thing) which is important in a medium like DSMP because of the smaller gap + more personal relationship b/w character and streamer. Examining intimacy beyond th bounds of the consent that has been established in that regard is Weird at best and Violating And Creepy more often and, As Mentioned In Ranb's Stage, Literally Evil at worst

Which is why writing abt like. QPR or platonically intimate Techno and Philza (characters) is smth that is fine because that's smth that has been shown and repeatedly stated onscreen; it's in the bounds of canon n thus within th bounds of what the streamers've consented 2 be done with their characters. But writing T3chza making out or whatever is fucked up because it's smth that's beyond those consent barriers

And the thing is right

Slapping a /p on T3chza makeout doesn't. Make it less violating

Like what you CALL romantic is not the measure or whether it's past those barriers yk? And if it's indistinguishable, if it's in extrapolative territory that is Past The Bounds, it Does Not Matter how much you /p it EVEN IF IT IS TECHNICALLY PLATONIC y feel? Like at the end of the day placing a moratorium on some/all forms of shipping is placing a moratorium on certain examinings of intimacy

And okay 2 go back to Mr Live and his character. What it implies taken in context w/ older portrayals of c!beeduo and said by invoking smth that both evokes Really fucked up baggage (that does unfortunately exist btw I'm sorry if you didn't know that but People Really Do B Fucked Up Abt Beeduo) AND applies to his character is a revocation of consent to examining deep intimacies:tm: with his character, which is gonna apply regardless of the nature of that intimacy (even if nonromantic)

Like I don't /r c!beeduo myself, do not, never have, but I talk to people who have and have consumed content where they r background /r; I also don't think it matters. Like I don't Actively /r it and I don't Actively Not /r it because imho w/ the intimacy regarding c!beeduo that is plot relevant and character important whether that intimacy is /p /qp or /r doesn't really matter. I don't consider myself Less of a c!beeduo shipper than someone who /rs them because that would be dumb as hell and while none of the content I've made* is Intrinsically or Intentionally /r it certainly can be read tht way as much as it can be read /qp or /p. It's be dumb and hypocritical of me to like, dunk on ppl for /r-ing c!beeduo when I'm also invested in these two and my tonetags r not gonna suddenly Delete the picking apart I've done of the dynamic @ hand

Which Has Been. Within Bounds Of Canon. It's been what's been shown (sometimes to my great distress. There is a reason that the :canon_beeduo: emote looks the way it does) Directly Onscreen and in general keeping with the tone n intensity/directions of what they've Done With The Characters

HOWEVER

As mentioned up there. Revocation of consent

It makes. Full sense 2 me that Mr Live wants to place a moratorium or fullon ban on shipping his characters perhaps where he wouldn't have before because of the Unfortunately Very Extant trends of people being Fucking Weird about shipping his characters AND of using them as a Thinly Veiled Excuse to ship HIM, which. I should not have to explain why shipping real people is fucking abhorrent

THIS creates a problem which is a. Bit of a vacuum in interacting with what is a facet of c!Ranboo's arc, decision making, and character. Like you CAN have c!Ranboo w/o cbeeduo but you Can't Really have his plotline without examining c!beeduo. And as I mentioned earlier: even if your examination of c!beeduo is fully platonic, the significance of it To the plotline means that any examination of it and its relevance to the plotline and characters IS gonna be an examination of intimacy, which. Regardless of it's platonic, Is Still Shipping

Unless some HARD retconning happens it leaves this like. Hole in an aspect of c!Ranboo's arc and decisionmaking and it's very. Uncertain? God. Fucking months ago I was already kind of :huh. Does he know what the fuck he's doing: irt c!beeduo and desperately wishing for things to be cleared up and now it's only That Much Stronger

NOW. KNIFETRICK, FINALLY

Knifetrick (or, as it’s actually listed, Bishop’s Knife Trick) is a fic about "Ran and Jackie from The Pit TFTSMP" in a "canon-typical ambiguously romantic relationship." As you can tell from the scare quotes, especially if you've seen me vague, both of these are, to put it politely, Doubtful. I've read the fic; I will not be sharing my opinions because that would be neither productive nor responsible (I will just say I can't recommend it and leave it at that) but I WILL say the following that Is relevant to the conversation:

Ran's and Jackie's characterizations respectively have very little to do with characterizations from The Pit, and bear a dollar-store-version resemblance to tropes and personality motifs found in ESPECIALLY fanon c!beeduo, especially later in the fic. I would not go so far as to say they are Intentionally Literally Ranboo and Tubbo but they are transparent expies and were clearly written at LEAST unintentionally w/ c!beeduo in mind (esp since. Ran and Jackie barely interacted in The Pit), and for a readerbase that, as far as I can tell, is HUGELY dominated by /r c!beeduo shippers. Like. Sorry. This is off-brand c!beeduo.

The dynamic between the two is pretty unambiguously romantic, also; despite what the fic's white knights claim, romantic tropes and implications/motifs/imagery from at LEAST chapter two, and is very much explicitly romantic by the most recent chapter.

FROM CH1:

"And now, with raised eyebrows and a pursed lip, the newly named General Jackie observes Ran in such a way that makes the enderman’s skin crawl. Ran reminds himself that this kid, as short and harmless as he may look, is trained to kill. [...] Jackie narrows his eyes and tilts his head a little, as if he’s trying to read in between every one of Ran’s imperfect scales."

FROM CH2:

"It makes Ran’s skin itch with discomfort. [...] 'That actually doesn’t explain much of anything at all,' complains Jackie, and he pops a few croutons into his mouth with one hand. 'Tell me what you’re thinking, pretty-boy.'

"Ran feels his face flush, no doubt mildly glowing green.

"Yes, that was the other thing. The unnecessary compliments to his physical appearance.

"They don’t happen very often, and don’t seem to have very much meaning or intention behind them— Jackie often speaks like an unthinking kid— but when they do happen… they’re embarrassing. [...] It’s annoying how the rug is pulled out from under his feet in these moments when he’s 'embarrassed'. Like the conversation see-saw has temporarily shifted weight in the general’s favor."

I am not going to include excerpts from Chapter 6 because it's just the entire chapter.

I WILL SAY, HOWEVER, STEPPING ON THIS SCORPION BEFORE IT STINGS: they are not written in an RPFy manner and I don't think there's any grounds, including Vibes, of accusing Knifetrick of being like. Closet truthing or whatever. Also, while I think there's certainly Some Weirdness ESPECIALLY around the reaction, the romance itself is Not written in any way I'd call weird or problematic pre-clip; it's nothing inappropriate or like Weirdly Fetishy or whatever. Knifetrick is not #problematic or anything and I don't have beef with like the concept of liking it intrinsically; if I thought it was like. Abhorrent I wouldn't be sharing excerpts lmao dhjfnhdsbvdnfjh. Hence: if anyone uses this post or anyth like it to send harassment or bad faith ANYTHING to anyone involved with Knifetrick I will hunt you down in the fucking night even if it WAS #problematic that'd be the LITERAL OPPOSITE of productive and as it stands it's Literally Not. Essentially: Knifetrick is a (questionably-written /mean) fic using Ran and Jackie from The Pit as a vessel for a large chunk of the dynamics and headcanons of fanon /r c!beeduo in particular

And again, I would not call it problematic in any way (aside from the disingenuity of the insistence that it's TOTALLY UNRELATED TO BEEDUO and TOOOTALLY WASN'T INTENDED TO BE ROMANTIC GUYS like own your shit please)... IF it weren't for the advent of The Clip, which is calling in2 question the Entirety of the problem of /r-ing any variant of c!beeduo or any of Ranboo's characters at all

I really do not have an answer for this tbh. I genuinely wanna hear from the streamer on this more specifically because I like,,, I got no clue where 2 go from here? Do I just consider an arc retconned? Was it an issue of speaking abt a troubling subject kneejerk wise and I'm reading too much in2 it?

I just. I dunno

Tl;dr (AT LONG LAST)

- The Clip is a clip of a Discord stage where Ranboo (streamer) loudly explicitly decried shipping in a way that implicitly applies to characters he plays - This would be all well and good but is rendered complicated by the plot relevance of c!beeduo, which does not stop being shipping if it's /p'd due to it still necessarily being an examination of a particular intimacy in a way that is in canon hard to distinguish the /p, /qp, or /r nature of - Bishop's Knife Trick is an AO3 fic centered around using TFTSMP characters as /r c!beeduo expies which is not a bad thing in and of itself unless it also is covered under this moratorium - Things remain unclear until and unless we get clearer word from streamer, but considering Mr Live seems to be allergic to clarifying anything abt c!beeduo this is doubtful

*very little if any of the content I personally have made 4 c!beeduo has been posted publicly, for related reasons. You May have seen it if you're in servers w/ me, depending on Which Ones

#dsmp fandom critical #kind of?#jic #ask to tag #I am technically defending Kn1fetrick on this post #I am not nice to it but I am defending it technically. If people start being rude abt it I am going to set myself on fire #this IS ludicrously long but I have tl;dr'd it as I do with all my ludicrously long posts. I think I have salient thoughts

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anxiouspotatorants · 3 years

Note

heyy first off im obsessed w your account and the underdog quartet but also i feel like, with your new jess/paris playlist post, we need to acknowledge paris and jess’s first interaction when paris went into luke’s diner in “Richard goes to stars hollow” they had a very subtle interaction but he was clearly memorable enough to her to remember him and his name. I wonder if whenever paris when to stars hollow in the future she would look for jess what do you think

Thank you so much for this ask and the kind words!!! I’m obviously obsessed with UQ too, so finding more people who love that dynamic is just amazing!

Also yes we only had about two direct interactions between Paris and Jess but holy shit was the platonic chemistry there!! Paris bothering to remember him is something I would love to take as a sign that she was a Jess gal (especially since if you combine that with Keiko Agena saying she and Lane are team Jess, that means all my faves support my ship!)

Now for Jess and Paris specifically, I could honestly give you three different types of answers for this. First is that ASP and company didn’t feel like exploring that dynamic, so Paris probably doesn’t think about Jess or seek him out in the future, especially not after Rory’s break up. But that take is boring so let’s go for wild headcanons!

The second approach is on the more realistic side. I bet that Paris would avoid bringing up Jess every time he popped into her mind in front of Rory, but she would be too desperate to finally have that decent conversationalist to not bug Rory about him. She probably wouldn’t head over to Stars Hollow of her own accord considering how disappointed she was with the research results for that article, but she would ask about when Jess could come over to Hartford so she could rip his literary takes to shreds at a nearby cafe or at the elder Gilmores. Once Jess and Rory were a couple, Paris would double down on her requests but probably only have them met once or twice (Jess has work, Rory still has a tendency to compartmentalize parts of her life etc.). Post-breakup Paris would take Rory’s side, but secretly be sad to see a potential friend go. She probably felt like this guys really could be something, not just for Rory who seemed to finally get decent taste in boys, but for Paris who was finally starting to get more true friends. She carries a secret team Jess torch for the rest of the series but hides it in general criticism of any and all guys Rory is involved with.

On to approach three, aka balls to the walls whatever I want!! Hold on to your hat because this will be a long and windy ride:

After the diner-meet, Paris is intrigued by the guy who played along with her interrogation and eye-flirted with Rory. She doesn’t think she’ll see him again, but she would be lying if she said she didn’t want to.

After the dinner at Rory’s, Paris is honestly elated to finally have a great literary conversation with a guy her age. The only one to have come close is Rory, and that doesn’t say much for the «opposite sex» in Paris’ eyes. But she’s also furiously disagreeing with Jess’ «Austen loves Bukowski»-take, so she writes a whole several page argumentative essay and forces Rory to deliver it to Jess the next school day.

Jess responds not with a letter, but by having Rory hand Paris an annotated («blasphemy!») copy of a Bukowski work. There are no arguments from Jess notes, just underlines of quotes he thinks Austen would approve of, and excerpts from different Austen works put in the margins for comparison. Paris despises him for how much she is seeing his point.

At some point Rory get’s sick of being a carrier pigeon and drags Paris with her to ST after school so the two can fight in person. All three stay until Lorelai pops over for dinner, and Paris realizes she needs to haul herself over to the bus. She’s hungry and worried about the time she should have spent on homework, but ultimately really happy about the day.

She’s bummed to see Jess go after the car accident, but doesn’t have much time to think about it between school and… well, school. She does end up being one of the few Rory can talk to about Jess without getting the whole «bad bad boy»-speech she gets over in ST and at her grandparents’.

Rory doesn’t tell Paris Jess is back until the very end of their Washington trip when Paris finds the unfinished letter and Paris is boiling. She does cool quickly, but only to constantly bug Rory about when the three of them are going to meet up again for coffee and verbal war. Rory gets so stressed about it that at some point she gives Paris the number to Luke’s and tells her to go on her own for all Rory cares.

Paris does. Jess is surprised, but they get in the groove quick. What doesn’t go as smoothly is Paris asking what the hell is going on between him and Rory. His non-answers pretty much spell everything out, and in a rare moment of comradery, Paris decides to turn the conversation in to hating on Dean. Jess appreciates it. It doesn’t happen again, but Paris firmly puts herself in the team Jess camp from then on.

Paris is releived once Jess and Rory finally are together and it is great! More cafe talks! Study sessions! Movie nights! They even sneak both Paris and Lane out into concerts! Paris feels like for the first time in a very long time, she has real friends her own age. The kind who actually like you for you and want to spend time with you for you, not just to get better grades or a better reputation.

Paris sucks at being strong for Rory when Jess leaves. Like, she takes it really personal. This was supposed to be the one good guy, and he decided to be just like everyone else. But with time she learns to coach Rory into speaking her mind about the whole thing, and to support her in her own Paris-y way.

What she doesn’t tell Rory is that at some point after summer break (either because she gets hold of Jess for some scolding or because Lane does and spills to Paris or even if Jess gets in touch himself) Jess starts sending Paris beat up books he collects on the road around the country. None of them feature letters (at first), but annotations at the beginning declaring his safety and momentary location, as well as his general style annotations of the book inside the text. Paris starts responding with letters, and with time they start talking on phones and through email.

Paris helps Jess with his GED. They make it an equal study-buddy thing because Paris needs help taking certain writers seriously in her essays. Most of their sessions are over the phone, and a lot of it is just them daring each other to actually try. Paris gets actual stars on her improved essays, and Jess passes with flying colours.

Paris doesn’t know about Truncheon until Jess stands in front of her place ages later, dressed like a Kids Bop version of himself and holding a messengerbag with his debut novel. Paris tears through it in two hours (forcing Jess to sit on the couch next to her the whole time) and then spends another half hour furiously trying to tear it to shreds but actually praising it. She gives him their first hug ever, and hopes this afternoon is a sign they’ll slowly get back to being close friends in person.

Paris sucks at hiding how team Jess she is. So. Much. She does have genuine critiques of Logan and other guys, but her gut-defenses of Jess at random times in the day and weird reminiscing back to the «good old days» of diner talk after school gives her away immediately. Rory is uncomfortable, but Paris doesn’t even change her mind after Rory still picks Logan.

What she does do is invite Jess over for grown up evenings with Doyle. Whenever Rory is scheduled to be out and Jess needs to visit Luke anyway, Paris extends her invitation. They test wines based on price and taste, watch cult classics, eat takeout (in honour of Paris’ very first Mac and Cheese night) and talk for hours. One day wires cross and Jess gets in while Rory is there/Rory gets back while Jess is there and things get awkward.

Paris invites Jess to the graduation. Yes she has a limited amount of tickets and yes it’s weird to invite your friend who has barely been around ever but damn it she wants him there. He came to her when he was celebrating his accomplishments, she wants him to be there for hers.

They actually grow even closer as adults; emailing, texting and calling regularly. About 70% of it is general banter and picking on everything and everyone around them, but it’s a far more loving kind now — not that anyone who isn’t them would know, from the outside it looks like they want to kill each other. Regardless of outcome, Paris remains forever team Jess, and the two end up having each other’s backs for life.

So this went long and away from the point (and I only went through Paris’ pov!) but it was fun to write! I hope you like rant answers!

#sing it with me all together now:#THE POTENTIAL #btw thank you so much for the ask it brightened my day!#snark attack #jess mariano #paris geller #jess x paris #lowkey underdog quartet #gilmore girls #gilmore girls headcanons #gilmore girls au #my aus #my headcanons

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maria-scribbles · 4 years

Text

we’re just like kevin bacon!

prompt: for @bricksatanakinswindow ‘s halloween writing challenge! this was initially inspired by "mortal enemies accidentally showing up in matching costumes every fucking year" but once i started writing it kind of snowballed from there and i ended up with this lmao

ship: jj maybank x fem!reader

word count: 4.6k+ (i think this is the shortest thing i’ve ever written lol)

warnings n stuff: childhood enemies to lovers, swearing, mention of underage drinking, halloween shenanigans, makin' out, smut (not too explicit but i still think it's spicy enough to need an 18+ warning), jj and the reader being cute lil nerds and quoting movies back and forth, the author blatantly using some of her personal favorite movies/shows as inspiration for costumes, the author also making her opinions on ghostbusters clear (instead of the human trash can peter venkman, stan the adorable dork known as ray stantz for clear skin)

a/n: this was hella fun to write and i already have so many more halloween fic ideas bouncing around in my head (it's spoopy season, y'all!). title of this fic comes from guardians of the galaxy 😊

Of three things in life you were certain.

One, you loved Halloween more than any other holiday of the year; after all, you and your twin brother Mason were born just after one AM on October 31st so you could say a penchant for all things spooky was in your blood.

Two, Sarah Cameron was your best friend. Being neighbors your whole lives, the two of you were thick as thieves and spent almost every day together, much to the annoyance of both your brother and hers; as much as you loved Mason, sometimes you wished Sarah was your twin instead of him and you knew without question the blonde girl would trade Rafe for you in a heartbeat (with little to no guilt, in fact.).

And three, you absolutely hated JJ Maybank. You'd been at the top of each other's shit lists ever since you were both six years old, when he made fun of you for the stutter you'd had back then and you dumped a full milkshake over his head as payback, and even as time passed and you grew out of your stutter, your disdain for the blond pogue only grew stronger. He was infuriating, plain and simple, and the mere mention of his name made steam come out of your ears.

The boy was just good at being annoying and seemed to love pushing everyone's buttons, yours especially, and always found ways to get under your skin without fail every single time your paths crossed (which was way too often for your liking, but running in the same friend group made it hard to avoid each other). It became an unspoken thing, the great Y/L/N-Maybank feud, with both of you trying your hardest to piss the other off until one of your mutual friends or your brother broke it up and pulled you to opposite corners of the metaphorical ring to take a breather before the next round.

You'd never admit it but deep down you kind of liked it. You liked being at the center of his attention (granted, it was antagonistic in nature but it was attention all the same), his bright blue eyes following your every move whenever you were within his sights and you liked that you were in his thoughts even when you weren't around, a fact proven to you by the tiny notebook Kiara carried around in her pocket recording how many times he mentioned your name. Knowing you lived rent free in his mind brought you an embarrassingly high level of satisfaction that you'd absolutely deny feeling if anyone ever asked, just as you'd deny the fact that he lived rent free in your mind, too.

...At least for most of the year. Everyone, including JJ, knew that to you Halloween was a damn-near sacred time. He knew never to mess with you during the weeks leading up to the holiday and definitely never on the day itself, lest he want yet another milkshake dumped over his blond head. He knew that, the whole damn island knew he did and yet...somehow, some way, he managed to get your blood boiling every. single. year. And you, like a masochistic idiot, let him.

It all started when you were twelve.

You, Mason, and your friends were finally old enough to go to the annual youth party held on the sprawling lawn of the Island Club, an event you'd been looking forward to attending every Halloween since you were eight. Of course, you were excited for the dancing and games and food but the thing you couldn't wait the most for was the costume contest, a chance to show off your skills and prove to everyone on the island that Y/N Y/L/N was the undisputed queen of Halloween.

So what if your hopes were a little too high (considering you were only twelve and going up against kids ranging from your age to fifteen), you were still gonna give it your all; you spent weeks perfecting not only your costume but your brother's as well with your mom, helping her cut fabric and sew zippers, styling wigs and painting props until everything was perfect.

"Oh my God, Y/N!" Sarah, dressed as Cinderella, yelled from the passenger seat of her dad's SUV when they swung by to pick you up. "You look amazing!"

"So do you!" You said, slipping into the back seat in between a miserable-looking Rafe as Sarah Sanderson ("I lost a bet," he explained with a scowl) and Mason, holding your mini R2-D2 on your lap. Was it kind of cheesy, dressing up as the most iconic twins in movie history? Probably, but you really didn't care because Leia Organa was a total boss bitch and Mason was practically over the moon that he got to be his ultimate silver screen hero and swing around his very own lightsaber as Luke Skywalker.

"The Force is strong with you two." Ward joked, earning an eye roll from both of his children as he drove to the Island Club to drop you off. Rafe immediately disappeared into the crowd to meet up with Topper and Kelce and the three of you went off to find your own friends, skirting around the edge of the party toward the snack tables, also known as the most likely place for them to be.

You spotted Kiara first, looking like an actual princess in her Tiana costume and waved, smiling when she waved back and beckoned you over as she said something to Pope, dressed as Albert Einstein, that made him start laughing hysterically.

"What's so funny?" You asked, reaching between them to grab two handfuls of pretzels and immediately dropping one into your brother's outstretched palm, careful to keep the sleeve of your white dress away from the bright orange-iced cupcakes on the table.

The two of them exchanged a look that instantly made you realize something was Up™ but before either of them could answer, Mason asked around a mouthful of pretzels, "Where're Tweedledee and Tweedledum?"

"J, why didn't we think of that?" John B's voice came from somewhere over your shoulder and when you turned to face him, you nearly dropped both the droid cradled in the crook of your elbow and the snacks in your hand. Not because of John B and his hilarious Chewbacca costume but because of the fact that JJ Maybank, the one person you hated the most on the whole entire island, was dressed as Han freakin' Solo.

"Yikes." Someone muttered behind you -it sounded like Sarah but you weren't really sure- and Mason nearly choked on his pretzels as he tried and failed miserably to keep himself from laughing.

"You've gotta be kidding me." You huffed, rolling your eyes as JJ crossed his arms and glared in your direction, blaster hanging from the holster on his hip.

"Listen, Princess, I'm not too happy about this, either."

"Oh, shut up, you nerfherder."

"Who you calling-" Mason and John B cut in and pulled you both in opposite directions before either of you could turn it into a shouting match, your brother physically grabbing you around the waist and carrying you off while the latter caught the back of JJ's vest and dragged him away. Despite their best efforts to keep you apart, you ran into each other more times than you could count and spent a minute or two squabbling like cats and dogs each time until one of them intervened once again. It was childish, it was immature, and it was fun, even though you'd never, ever admit it. Ever.

You didn't win the costume contest that year in the way you'd imagined at all. Still, first place in the group category was a win in your book and it felt good, even if one of the members of your unintentional Star Wars posse was someone who tested every bit of patience you had. The four of you split the cash prize and you went home 25 bucks richer, stashing it away for next year's costume and pushing the thought of accidentally matching with your mortal enemy from your mind.

You had no idea this thing was only just beginning.

The next year, you let Sarah and Kiara convince you to match with them and the three of you rolled up to the party as the Pink Ladies -you as Rizzo, Sarah as Sandy, Kiara as Frenchy- only to run right into the boys, your brother included, dressed as the T-Birds. John B, perfectly in character as Danny, immediately whisked Sarah off to dance while Pope, the most adorably awkward Doody you'd ever seen, went to grab some snacks with Kiara, leaving you stuck with the bane of your existence as, of course, fucking Kenickie (Mason, as Sonny, dipped sometime before then without you noticing). The two of you spent the whole evening glaring at each other and hurling insults back and forth at breakneck speed, more in character than either of you'd ever want to acknowledge and for the second year in a row, you won first place in the group costume category.

At fourteen, you went as Princess Buttercup and JJ showed up as Westley, fake sword in hand as he followed you around all night like an annoying fly, sarcastically drawling "as you wish" every time you so much as glanced in his direction. Your brother, dressed as Inigo Montoya, nearly pissed himself laughing and you wanted to snatch both of their prop swords and shove them up their asses. You came in first again in the group costume contest and begrudgingly split the prize three ways.

At fifteen, you worked hard on a Dr. Ellie Sattler costume from Jurassic Park, he strolled in as a disheveled Dr. Alan Grant with mud splattered boots and tattered clothes, and you really regretted not taking the offer to be the Tai to Sarah's Cher and Kiara's Dionne. Once again, Mason laughed so hard his face turned red and you were tempted to grab the sword he was holding and beat him over the head with it, not just for laughing at you but also for the completely atrocious Jack Sparrow costume he wore. To your absolute horror, you and JJ won the contest in the duo category and you wanted to melt into the ground when they called you onto the makeshift stage to collect your reward.

When you were sixteen, you and your friends "graduated" to the party held for the older teens inside the club itself. With costume rules a little more lax than they were for the younger kids, you decided to go as (an only slightly sexy) Janine Melnitz, complete with a prop telephone you answered every so often with a loud "Ghostbusters, whaddya want?!" much to the embarrassment of Mason, who was once again dressed as Luke Skywalker, this time in the fatigues he wore while training on Dagobah in The Empire Strikes Back.

You strutted into the party in your heels and pencil skirt only to nearly fall flat on your face when you caught sight of JJ in a terrible black wig and glasses, proton pack strapped to his back and 'Spengler' printed on the front of his jumpsuit. Your brother winced when you all but screeched "Again?!" right into his ear and grabbed your elbow, dragging you over to an empty table and depositing you into an open chair.

"There's no way this is a coincidence anymore! He could've picked Venkman, with all the womanizing and lowkey being a creep and thinking he's God's gift to mankind? It would've been the perfect choice! He's not nearly adorable or dorky enough to be Stantz or sassy enough to be Winston-"

"Jesus, you have a lot of feelings about Ghostbusters," Mason muttered, rolling his eyes when you shot him a withering glare.

"Shut up! Listen to me, there's no way in hell Maybank randomly decided to be, out of alllll the 'Busters, Egon fuckin' Spengler, okay? He had to have somehow known I was coming as Janine and did it just to piss me off!"

Your brother heaved a deep, heavy sigh that made you want to smack him and fixed you with a deadpan stare. "Or, have you pulled your head out of your own ass long enough to think that maybe you're just becoming...predictable?"

You really did smack him then, hard on his exposed shoulder and he yelped, scowling as he rubbed at the red mark you left behind. "Ow! What the hell, bitch?!"

"Don't you dare call me predictable, you dickhead! I pride myself on my costumes being very unique and unexpected -you know, out of the box!"

"Hate to break it to you but they're not really out of the box if Maybank shows up in a matching one every single year." He said with an infuriating, shit-eating grin, patting your shoulder before straightening the plush Yoda strapped to his back. "I'm gonna go get some food, wanna come with?"

Still miffed at his comment, you shoved his arm away and glanced down at your lap, ignoring your brother's sassy "your loss" as he headed toward the snack tables. Not even a minute passed by before his empty seat was taken and you groaned when you looked up to see who it was, your eyes meeting a pair of bright blues behind tacky, oversized glasses.

"Hi, Janine."

"...Egon."

The two of you sat in silence after that, watching the dancing crowd under the flashing neon lights and sparkling disco ball until you saw him turn to face you out of the corner of your eye.

"Why Janine?"

"Huh?" You turned to face him, too, one eyebrow raised in a perfect arch as he gestured toward your costume.

"Why did you dress up as Janine, Y/L/N?"

"I've always liked her sassiness and 'I like to play racquetball.'" You offered a casual shrug of your shoulders and carefully stuck a finger under your wig to scratch an annoying itch above your ear. "Why'd you pick Egon, Maybank?"

"He's my favorite." He answered simply with his own shrug, shooting you a genuine, real smile that you, for who knows what reason, found yourself returning without a second thought. "Smart, hilarious -plus, 'I like to collect spores, mold, and fungus.'"

For the first time in your life, your eyes rolled out of amusement and not annoyance at something that JJ Maybank said and, to your complete surprise, it kind of felt...right. "Really? I'd have pegged you for a Venkman stan."

"Are you kidding? He's the worst!"

Never in your wildest dreams did you ever think you'd sit across from your hated enemy, not only having a civil -hell, downright enjoyable- conversation but actually smiling right along with him, laughing at his jokes and doing your best to ignore the sudden flutter in your stomach each time you caught sight of his slightly crooked teeth when he grinned. You didn't even notice when your brother returned with Kiara, dressed as Moana, at his side and two heaping plates of snacks in his hands until his chair scraped gratingly across the hardwood floor.

"Kie, are you seeing this? Pigs must be flying 'cause they're actually smiling at each other." Mason said, cackling as Kiara turned to squint out the window.

"Yeah, I think I see one or two soaring around out there." She giggled and sent a mischievous wink in your direction. With your face feeling like it was on fire, you flipped them both the bird and took off, disappearing into the crowd and leaving all your traitorous, confusing thoughts about JJ behind with the boy himself; it was Rafe's last party at the Club and he owed you a dance anyway, but even as your best friend's older brother, cute as hell in his Thor costume, playfully twirled you around the floor to the Ghostbusters theme song, you felt more than your partner's blue eyes on you.

To no one's surprise, you and JJ won the duo category for the second year in a row and when you joined him onstage to collect your prize and didn't feel like you'd rather die than be up there by his side, you suddenly realized you were only certain about two things in life instead of three.

At seventeen, you were confident you and JJ wouldn't be matching for once (after last year, though, you were kind of thinking it wouldn't be that bad of a thing). You'd gone cult classic for your costume, pulling inspiration from your mom's favorite move, 1999's The Mummy, and put together a screen-accurate Evelyn Carnahan in her iconic black dress, including a handmade Book of the Dead and matching key. You blackmailed Mason with pictures of him, drunk as a skunk and dressed in your Janine costume from the previous year, and got him to go as Jonathan, complete with a pith helmet and prop bottle of The Glenlivet.

But, as always, JJ managed to surprise you. You literally ran right into his chest and if it wasn't for his arms instantly wrapping tight around your waist, you would've bit it hard.

"Whoa, careful there," He said, one hand keeping you close while the other moved to help you hold the book in your arms. "'The Book of the Dead? Are you sure you wanna be messing around with this thing?'"

Of course he'd make the perfect Rick O'Connell, you thought as you playfully raised one eyebrow and curled your fingers around the strap of the gun holster draped over his shoulder. "'It's just a book. No harm ever came from reading a book.'"

Mason was a little too in character as well as he dramatically rolled his eyes and wandered off, muttering "puh-lease" under his breath and shooting Sarah a conspiratorial wink that you didn't see. The blonde girl glanced between the two of you -arms still around each other and identical smiles on your faces- and grinned. The party flew by in a blur of movie quotes, laughs, and more dances than you could count and by the time you made it home, 50 bucks in the pocket of your dress and another group costume win under your belt, you were almost positive you never actually hated JJ Maybank in the first place.

Now at eighteen, you pulled out all the stops for your last party at the Island Club. You'd spent the last few months slaving over your costume, sewing custom pieces, hand-crafting your prop, and spending way too much money on body makeup and a wig but when you saw the final product in the mirror, you knew it was all worth it. You were ready to slay the competition this year and take home first place for the final time.

Mason, indifferent as always about the contest but willing to do anything to keep those pictures from seeing the light of day, didn't protest one bit when you forced him into the matching costume you'd made for him -in typical Mason fashion, he liked that he didn't have to wear a shirt and could show off his muscles- and spent a few hours perfecting his makeup.

You felt on top of the world when you walked into the party that night as Gamora, a replica of her Godslayer sword in hand and skin painted a perfect shade of green, followed by your brother as Drax, already flexing for anyone and everyone looking his way. The rest of your friends came to win as well: John B and Sarah as Flynn Rider and Rapunzel, Kiara as Eleven, Pope as T'Challa, and, of course, JJ as Peter Quill, Baby Groot perched on his shoulder and twin blasters at his hips.

"Lookin' good, Gamora!" He called over the music, shimmying his way over to you with some dance moves that would impress Star-Lord himself.

"Flattery will get you nowhere, Quill." You replied in a sing-song voice, even as you took his outstretched hand and let him pull you into the crowd of bodies hopping up and down to some terrible EDM beat under the twirling disco ball.

"It got you out here with me, didn't it?"

You rolled your eyes and hooked the sword to your belt before stepping closer and draping your arms around his neck, twirling your painted fingers in his hair. "Just remember, 'I know who you are, Peter Quill. And I'm not some starry-eyed waif here to succumb to your pelvic sorcery.'"

You should've known you spoke too soon the second you saw the spark in JJ's eyes that all but screamed 'wanna bet?'

And that's how you found yourself in the middle of the single hottest make out session you'd ever had the pleasure of participating in an hour later: back pressed against the locked door of someone's deserted office, legs wrapped tight around his waist and his hands hooked under your ass, both your sword and his blasters abandoned on the floor at his feet, and he was either a sinfully good kisser or trying really, really hard to blow your mind.

"I'm not gonna end up green after this, am I?" He mumbled against your mouth before trailing his lips along your jaw and you breathed a laugh, tightening your grip on his hair.

"This is professional makeup, dumbass. It's gonna take more than some kissing to smudge it."

"I'm down for some smudging if you are."

You pulled him back for another kiss in response and gasped into his mouth when he walked across the room, one strong arm reaching out to sweep whatever was on the desk to the floor before setting you down on it.

"Confident, are we?"

JJ smirked at your breathless question and the way you hooked your ankles around the backs of his thighs to pull him closer. "So is that a yes to the smudging?"

"Just shut up and kiss me."

He did -very well, you might add- and you kissed him back, untangling your hands from his hair to slide them under his jacket instead; you helped him push it off his shoulders and it had barely hit the ground along with poor Baby Groot before your fingers were tugging his shirt from the waistband of his pants.

"Someone's impatient." He teased, leaning back just far enough to let you pull it over his head and toss it somewhere behind you.

"Someone doesn't know how to stop talking." You whispered your reply low in his ear and then trailed your lips down his neck, smiling in satisfaction at the tremble in his voice when you kissed the purple mark you'd left behind earlier.

"N-never was very good at that."

"'You should've learned.'"

"'I don't learn, it's one of my issues.'"

One of his hands gripped your wig, pulling your head back a little roughly -you'd have so been into that if it had been your real hair he pulled- and you winced at the way the bobby pins holding it it place tugged painfully at your roots. "Ow, not so hard!"

"Wait, what the fuck? I thought you were wearing a wig!"

"I am but it's still pinned to my actual hair!"

"Sorry, but how the hell was I supposed to know that?"

The sight of JJ's face slowly turning red made the butterflies in your stomach go haywire and so you just shook your head, mumbling "don't worry about it," before pressing your lips to his once again. He was gentler this time with the pulling and you dug your nails into his bare shoulders at the thrill of his mouth against the exposed column of your throat, leaning back further and further until you laid flat on the desk.

His fingers had just unbuttoned your pants when your phone started to ring from your pocket, blaring the Star Wars theme you had set as your twin's ringtone.

"Mason's timing is impeccable," JJ said sarcastically, chuckling as you clamped a palm over his mouth and answered the call.

"What the hell do you want?"

"Jesus, no need to be pissy!" Mason loudly replied over the applause crackling through the phone's speaker. "I just thought you'd like to know that we just won best group costume with Maybank. Again."

The blond winked at the mention of his last name and pulled your hand away from his mouth, pinning it to the desk beside you with one of his while the other started tugging your pants down over your hips.

"Oh, that's cool, Mase-" You inhaled sharply when his lips touched the edge of your underwear, so close to where you wanted him most but at the same time so far away, and your fingers held your phone in a white-knuckled grip. "But I-I'm kind of in the middle of doing someone -something!- right now."

"Smooth," JJ said, not even trying to be quiet as he released your pinned hand to finish pulling your boots off, along with your tight leather pants that he casually tossed aside. "And I knew you weren't green under these!"

Your laugh quickly turned into a gasp when his fingers hooked under your panties and pulled those off, too, and the touch of his tongue against the skin of your inner thigh sent white-hot lightning racing through your veins; the phone slipped from your grip, falling with a clunk onto the desk as your fingers tangled in his hair and he lifted one of your knees over his shoulder.

"Okay, I'm hanging up now! I already know you're getting laid but I don't need to hear it." Mason's loud grumble drifted up through the speaker and if you weren't so preoccupied with the boy between your thighs doing some downright wicked things to you with his mouth, you might've noticed that your brother didn't actually sound that grumpy before he ended the call and your phone's screen went dark, right as you lost control of your voice.

"Fuck me."

"Funny, I thought that's what I was doing?" You felt more than heard his response against you and a shiver ran down your spine when his bright blue eyes flicked up to met yours in the dim light of the office.

"You know what I meant, Maybank."

"Trust me, Y/L/N, I know. Question is: where do you want me?"

You tugged on his hair, grinning wolfishly at the way his eyes fluttered closed and a low moan rose from his throat. "Everywhere in this damn room, starting right here."

"I was hoping you’d say that.”

- Back at the party, Mason looked up and met Sarah's gaze, both of her eyebrows raised expectantly as she asked, "Well?"

He took his time slipping his phone back into his pocket before giving her a quick nod, grinning triumphantly when she immediately burst into gleeful giggles.

"Yes! I just knew they had a thing for each other! Mortal enemies, my ass."

"I think that was the very first time in my sister's life that she didn't give a shit about the contest." Mason said and reached over to snag a cookie from her plate, chuckling when she pushed his hand away from the chocolate chip ones and toward the peanut butter. "We couldn't have pulled this off without you. I mean, making sure they showed up in matching costumes every year? Genius, Sarah. Absolutely genius."

The blonde girl grabbed her own cookie with a wink. "Think they'll ever figure it out?"

Your brother just threw his head back and laughed. "I hope not! I wanna save that story for my best man speech at their wedding."

taglist: @sinkbeneathwaves @cordeliascrown @maysbanks @jjpogueprincess @jiaraendgame @alexa-playafricabytoto @sexualparkour @agirlwholovescoffee

#brickswritingchallenge #outer banks #jj maybank #obx fic #jj maybank x reader #jj maybank x you #jj maybank x y/n #outer banks imagine #obx imagine #obx x reader #jj maybank imagine #jj maybank fic #obx fanfic

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joiedecombat · 3 years

Note

💕 🎁

💕 favorite ship to write?

Squall Leonhart and Rinoa Heartilly from Final Fantasy VIII, my original fandom OTP. I’ve probably written more about them than any other fic, and though it’s been a hot minute since I’ve written anything new for FFVIII, Squall and Rinoa and their relationship dynamic have left a permanent mark on my writing - especially Squall, who is eveything I love in a romantic hero.

By which mostly I mean “aloof, stoic professionalism on the outside, utter emotional garbage fire in need of rescue on the inside.”

🎁 have a quote from a WIP?

I batted back and forth with myself for a while on how deep to dig into my files of unfinished fiction and whether to stick to fanfic or not, considering that how much any of my WIPs can really be said to be in progress is always pretty dubious.

Anyway, here’s two different and unrelated excerpts for you.

“Why make the suggestion in the first place if you’re so against it?”

Because I’m not strong enough.

The answer rested on the tip of his tongue, too bitter to swallow. As much as this whole situation galled him, fact remained fact: he lacked the influence, not to mention the manpower, that it would take to challenge Juliano directly.

He’d grit his teeth and send this woman into the trenches, knowing full well what he was sending her to, because like it or not he needed the opportunity she could give him.

But some things a man in his position couldn’t admit to out loud. Especially not to a woman with eyes like Elizabeth Colvin’s.

This one’s from “Reason or Rhyme,” the Gotham Memoirs Vittorio fic I swear I will get back to when I have the chance.

The other is from an older original piece that is still more conceptual than really planned, but which I still really want to do something with one of these days:

Keeping herself propped up suddenly seemed like far too much effort. As the car’s drivers side door swung open, Raine sank back down onto the corrugated surface of the truck bed and closed her eyes. From there she heard rather than saw him approach, steps light and measured, the long shadow he cast in the headlights flickering against her eyelids: the central figure of all the problems she’d tried to forget.

“Warden.”

“Special Agent.”

She’d hoped to sound as calm and dispassionate as he had, but to her own ears her voice just sounded petulant. Saying anything else seemed like a bad idea. Instead she kept her eyes shut, as though if she didn’t acknowledge him any further, he might go away and leave her alone.

No such luck.

“What the hell have you been drinking,” he said with a flatness in that rich voice that made it not so much a question as a demand for explanation.

“Two for one margaritas, mostly.”

She opened one eye to find Alsandír standing at the side of the truck, looking down at her. In the stark backlight of the headlights, he was all sharp contrasts, silver and shadows like some kind of moody artistic photograph in a style there was probably a fancy name for. Chiaro… chiaroscuro. Something Italian like that.

He drew in a slow breath, the line of his jaw shifted fractionally as the corners of his mouth tightened. “With incredibly cheap tequila, by the smell of it. You are in no shape to drive.”

“A very astute observation,” Raine enunciated the words with great care to keep her mouth from stumbling over them like it wanted to. “That’d be why I’m not driving.”

He lifted an eyebrow.

“So your solution is to spend the night out here?” he asked, a note of incredulity creeping into his tone. “Because that’s safe.”

“Oh, go away,” she muttered sourly, closing her eyes again and lifting a hand to flap it in his direction. “Nobody asked you.”

Her arm caught up short against his palm, and he closed his hand around her wrist -- not a tight grip, but trying to tug free of him proved fruitless. By the time Raine opened her eyes to frown at him, he was already moving around to the tailgate, pulling her up and along with him until her feet touched the ground and she was sitting nominally upright.

“Hey,” she protested, but he gave no indication that he’d heard.

“Can you stand?”

Insulted, she hissed a breath out through her teeth. “I’m not that drunk.”

He said nothing to that. He just stood there, watching her with that too-steady gaze, inhumanly still except for the barest ruffle of the breeze over his hair. Expectant.

With a half-voiced grumble of capitulation, Raine braced her hand against the tailgate and pushed herself the rest of the way up so that she could sit on her own. It wasn’t standing, but it seemed to satisfy him, because he let go of her wrist and took a single, precise step back.

“Where are your keys?” he asked her.

She patted her hand against the hip pocket of her jeans, not so much by way of an answer as to reassure herself that she hadn’t done something stupid like leave them in the ignition. The hard edges of the keyring pressed back against her palm, unyielding and familiar. She had just enough time to think that if he meant to take her keys from her, it was going to be a fight, before he said “Good,” and turned away.

Raine sat on the tailgate and watched as he went back to his car, moving around to the passengers’ side to open the door. Her mind felt thick and sluggish, like the summer humidity had crept into her head; when he turned back towards her and said, “Get in,” at first she only blinked.

“...No thanks,” she decided after a moment, and heard him breathe out a quiet sigh.

“I’m not leaving you out here like this.”

Something about the absoluteness in his voice, like he was saying something that had already been decided, had her bunching up her shoulders with rebellious tension.

“Go to hell,” Raine shot back. “I don’t take orders from you.”

“Dios mío, it’s not an order--” He broke off with a hiss, for once sounding as aggravated as she felt.

Curling her arms around herself, she hunkered down to rest her forearms against her knees and looked down at the ground. Presently she heard his steps on the gravel again. The distorted length of his shadow split the flood of light from the headlights like a knife as he walked back toward her; even when he stood right in front of her, close enough that if she kicked out it would catch him right about in the kneecap, she kept her head bowed and glowered at the toes of his no-doubt-designer shoes.

“Raine. I am asking you. Please.” The word sounded awkward in his mouth, as though it were something he wasn’t accustomed to pronouncing. Surprise had her lifting her head to find those pale eyes fixed upon her, implacable. “Get in the fucking car.”

For a long, taut moment, neither of them moved. Raine was the one to finally break eye contact, uncurling herself with a little huff.

“Fine,” she said, “if you’re going to make this much of a thing out of it.”

She gripped the end of the tailgate with both hands, but as she pushed herself off and onto her feet, the ground tilted dizzily underneath her. Off balance, she pitched forward with a very undignified sound, and would’ve planted her face right into his chest if he hadn’t caught her by the shoulders.

Catching the upward quirk of his eyebrow, Raine glared up at him. “Shut up.”

“Mm,” he said, and hitched a steadying arm around her by which to steer her towards his car.

#time princess #gotham memoirs #vittorio puzo #southern gothic urban fantasy procedural romance #fanfic #ask meme #aliboo

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bobathirstaccount · 4 years

Text

Hard to Find Someone Like You

Boba x fem!reader, Fennec is your gal pal & boss, slow burn to smut (tomfoolery starts end of ch 2 & sex starts in ch 3, I gotchu), some romance, fair amount of plot, Post-Mando 2 Boba

You are a merc serving under Fennec at Fett’s Palace. It’s business as usual until a certain helmet starts tilting in your direction...

Translations:

Keella - Twi’lek for darling

Daesha - Twi’lek name, means queen

Ayy - Twi’lek name, means star

Numa - Twi’lek name, means sister

***

CHAPTER TWO

You returned from your latest mission, a courier for important information. You had taken data packs to some of Fett’s allies, and were then tasked with shuttling other data packs back. It was boring. You sighed, landing in the hanger next to the Slave 1.

When you went down the gangway of your ship, you noticed that the Slave 1 was open. Curious, you walked to the bottom of the ramp, peering inside.

You whipped around, having sensed someone behind you. Your nasty expression faded and was replaced by utter shock. It was the Great Fett Himself. You stumbled backward, tripping yourself over the edge of the Slave 1’s ramp. You landed with a thump on it. Fett’s helmet tilted down slightly.

You popped up, trying to act normal. You realized you were on the ramp to his ship. You meekly walked down. You tried to keep going, but Fett spoke, “Any more heads?”

You stopped and slowly turned on your heel. Your eyes flicked up to his visor and then down to his chest, “Not this time.”

“Do you often decapitate your bounties?”

“Sometimes.”

He hmmmed softly. “Good night,” he said, turning from you.

“Good night,” you returned, stunned.

***

The next day Slave 1 was gone and Fennec was temporarily in charge. She sat in the throne. Although she was an impressive force, it didn’t quite suit her, you thought. Who could replace Fett up there?

Fennec had called you to the throne room late at night. “I need you to go join up with Fett. They need a second ship.”

You were surprised, “Me?”

“Who else? You’ve done well here. We can almost trust you.”

You went to ask another question, but she dismissed it with a wave of her hand. “I’ve already sent the coordinates to your ship. You leave now. Fett will explain when you arrive.” You nodded, and turned to leave.

***

You came out of jump space. Slave 1 was in front of you. You were hailed, “Daesha, prepare to be boarded.” You prepped the airlock and waited. Slave 1 docked with you. Two female Mandalorians appeared in your ship. You stared at them, hand over your blaster.

“We’re taking your ship, go aboard the Slave 1.”

You scoffed.

“Fett said to tell you the message is from him.”

You looked between them. “Kriff. Not another scratch,” you warn. You climbed the ladder into Slave 1 and closed the airlock. You disembarked from your ship. A pang hit your heart. You hoped you would see her again.

You made your way to the cockpit, and sat in one of the crew seats. Fett was piloting. There didn’t appear to be anyone else on board. “This shouldn’t take long,” he said. You weren’t sure if he was talking to you. You held your tongue. Slave 1 entered jump space. Fett stood from his seat, turning towards you. “It will be about 30 minutes.” He brushed past you.

Thirty minutes until what? You didn’t dare ask. Instead you sat in your seat and waited for time to elapse. Fett returned just before the ship came out of jump space. He immediately entered a dog fight. You saw your ship engaged in battle. You watched with interest. They better know what they were doing with your ship. Fett shot away into jump space. Your eyebrows shot up. Did he just abandon your ship? He turned to you, “We will wait until we hear from them.” He settled into his seat.

You sat quietly, wondering what to do. The minutes ticked by. Fett sat stoically, doing something with his flight computer. Finally you realized you had to use the fresher. You squirmed in your seat for a minute before slipping out of it. Surely you could find a fresher on a small ship. You had found the cockpit.

You wandered the ship, having a surprisingly difficult time. You were getting desperate. “What are you doing?” A vocoder voice said behind you. The tone was deadly quiet. You whipped around, startled, eyes narrowed. It was Fett. Of course it was Fett.

“Looking for the fresher,” you manage to get out.

“This way,” Fett took off in a direction you’d already been. You rolled your eyes at yourself and followed him. He slide open a small door you hadn’t noticed. Kriff. “Thank you,” you said, turning to him. He nodded, and turned to leave. You dashed into the fresher, grateful and bursting.

You returned to the cockpit. Fett was back in his seat. You resisted the sudden urge to ask him what this was all about. He sat there, mysterious and silent. Finally a communication came through. Fett put Slave 1 back into jump space. Suddenly your ship was in front of you. It looked small. You smiled to see her intact. Fett turned to you, “We’re docking with your ship. Prepare to board. Return to Tattooine and wait for me. Tell Fennec everything went fine.” You nodded, then realizing he might not have seen it added, “Okay.”

He turned forward again.

***

You had delivered Fett’s message to Fennec and retired to the third floor club area. You had repeated it word for word, and wondered at the phrase “wait for me.” Now that you were sitting it came to you again. It was a strange thing to say. You wondered if Fennec had noticed it as well.

Ayy had sidled up and asked if it was true you went on a mission with Fett. You corrected her, “I just brought them my ship. Then I sat and waited with Fett until it was all over.”

“Wait. You were alone with Fett?” Ayy’s eyes widened.

“Yes. But we just sat there.”

“So he never said anything to you?”

“Well I didn’t say that nece-“

“So what’d you talk about?” She leaned forward expectantly, giving you a naughty look.

You blushed, “Well he had to show me where the kriffing fresher was. And he gave me a message for Fennec. Other than that it was just about docking with the Daesha.”

“Ooooh, but he picked you,” she said conspiratorially. She leaned in even further, annoying you. “He could’ve picked any merc here. Someone more prominent. But he picked you, “ she whispered breathlessly.

You sat back. “Like I said, they wanted my ship, not me.”

She looked at you skeptically. “No. He doesn’t do things by accident. Maybe he wants to fuck you.”

You gawked at her.

“Just saying... you’re one of the more attractive mercs around here... especially considering you’re one of the only women he has contact with regularly.”

“I don’t have ‘regular contact’ with him. Plus who knows if he likes women. Or humans,” you countered.

“Coulda fooled me. First the severed head - which everyone heard about by the way - and now this. Once is chance, twice is coincidence, third time is a pattern. So you got one more time before you can’t deny it anymore.”

“That’s not the actual quote,” you said dryly.

She rolled her eyes, “Whatever, point is he wants something from you, and I’m betting it’s that sweet ass and those bouncy titties.”

You flushed, aggravated and embarrassed, “My tits don’t bounce.”  ”Girl,” she raised an eyebrow. “Remember your birthday night? The girls were out on display... I bet he saw.”

“Thought you said he didn’t notice.”  ”Well I can admit when I’m wrong.”

You finished your drink. “This conversation is done.”

She sighed in your face, “Fine. I have to get back to work anyway.” She sauntered off, hips swaying with each step. You wondered how you looked when you walked.

***

Fennec called you to the throne room during midday. You tried to saunter down the stairs. When you got to the bottom you felt foolish, and walked normally over to Fennec. She was standing in front of the throne, talking with Fett. You respectfully stopped a few feet away. Fett nodded in your direction. Your throat got dry. Fennec turned, “Ah, there you are.”

You nodded at her.

“We have something special for you to transport. No questions.”

You tried to stop your eyebrow from raising, “Of course.”

She smiled, “Of course. Go to the hanger. Your package is there waiting for you. Coordinates have been sent to your ship.”

You nodded, “Right away.” You glanced up at Fett. He nodded at you. You breath caught for a moment. You turned and retreated up the stairs, shaking slightly. Did this count as Ayy’s third time? You pushed that thought away. You didn’t believe her kark. You made it to the hanger, walking past the Slave 1. You thought about your time alone with Fett. You stopped abruptly when you saw your “package.” It was a young woman with a very small child. You nodded at her, “I’m here to take you.” She nodded, looking at you with soft, sad eyes.

You ushered her onto your ship and into a seat. Then you checked the coordinates. Some backwater world. Whatever. You exited the atmosphere and put Daesha into jump space. You settled into your seat in a similar manner that Fett had settled into his. “It’ll be about 2 hours,” you said, “get comfortable.” You received no reply.

***

Upon your return to Tattooine, you were summoned to the throne room. You walked down the stairs, a bit tired. When you got to the bottom, you glanced up, and stopped short. There was no Fennec. Only Fett. You slowly approached, confused. Were you supposed to be here? He watched you, saying nothing but following you with his helmet. When you were directly in front of him, he leaned slightly forward, “Well?”

“She arrived safely and disembarked.”

“That’s it?”

You were confused, “Yes?”

“Good.” He leaned back. “You have made yourself quite useful lately. It makes up for your killing my guest. That was an awkward situation for me.”

You looked down, “Sorry.”

He laughed softly, a gruff raspy noise made even harsher by his vocoder. You looked up at him. He stared down at you. Fennec walked into the room.

“Oh, I didn’t mean to interrupt.”

“We were just finishing,” Fett spoke to Fennec but kept his helmet facing you. You bowed awkwardly and retreated.

***

You leaned in to Ayy’s face conspiratorially. “I think he might want to fuck me,” you whisper.

She laughs, “What was the third thing?”

You stare at her in annoyed confusion.

“The third thing that made the pattern.”

You sighed. She had you. “I can’t talk about it but something did happen.”

She rolled her eyes, “Kriff. The most exciting thing to happen around here and you can’t talk about it. At least make up something.”

You considered for a minute. Did you trust her? You eyed her.

“Well,” you spilled your guts, “He summoned me to the throne room alone.”

She raised her eyebrows, “No Shand? Whoa.”

You nodded seriously.

“So what are you gonna do?”

“Huh?”

“When he comes on to you, what you gonna do?” She tickled your inner thigh playfully. You jumped and pushed her hand away, embarrassed. You hadn’t thought about it. You were too wrapped up in the idea that he might want it to happen. “I don’t know.”

“Well you better decide, but I mean can you really say no?” She raised her hands when you glared at her. “Hey, just saying, keella.”

She did have a point. You frowned, unsure how you felt about these realizations. She put her hand on your shoulder and leaned into you, resting her head against her hand. “You’re gonna be fine, keella. You got those bouncy tits.” Despite yourself you laughed. She smiled, “Well, I gotta get back to it. Later, babe.” You nodded at her as she headed back to dance.

You had another drink to think everything over. You realized that you were probably just sucked into Ayy’s conspiracy theory. It wouldn’t be that unusual for you to get those tasks, would it? You were one of Fennec’s go-tos after all. By the time you were done with your drink, you felt much better. You were about to go when a hand touched your back gently. It was a dancer, Numa.

“Fennec told me to tell you to come over to Fett’s table.” Your head snapped up in astonishment.

“He’s here?” She nodded, pointing to the table in the corner where they had been seated before. There he sat. Fennec made eye contact with you and waved you over. You stood up abruptly. Thanking Numa, you tried to confidently walk over to the table. It was a somewhat longer walk than you would’ve liked. When you arrived, Fennec introduced you to the table as ‘one of our favorites.’ Serious faces looked you over. Fennec patted next to her. You slipped into the edge of the booth. Fett’s guests talked business. He mostly listened, occasionally nodding his head or saying a few curt words. After a while, Fennec crawled over you, “I’ll be back.” You leaned back to let her pass.

She returned after a few minutes. Rather than crawl over you, Fennec pushed you further into the booth, closer to Fett. You were somehow trapped between Fennec and Fett. It didn’t feel good. You sat uncomfortably, listening idly to the wheedling guests. Fennec became interested in her drink. The Great Fett shifted in his seat. This caused the table’s chatter to dip momentarily. He stilled and the conversation flowed again. Fennec pushed you over further, “I’m falling out of the booth, girl. Scoot over.” Your skin prickled at being this close to your employer. This close he was terrifying.

You felt pressure on your knee. Confused, you twitched. The pressure decreased momentarily, before returning and running up the inside of your thigh. You slowly realized it was Fett’s hand. You froze, scandalized. His hand reached your groin and slipped between your legs. It stopped there. You sat, frozen, barely able to breathe. Your thoughts flitted back to your conversation with Ayy. You decided that although dangerous and totally insane, this might work in your advantage as well. You spread your legs slightly. His hand stirred, pressing into your pussy through your pants. He pet you slowly under the table, rubbing your clit with his middle finger. You tried to maintain a neutral face, but your breathing was picking up. Maybe this was a mistake. You were out of your depth.

He didn’t do anything further, but it was enough to drive you crazy. He had worked you up to the brink of orgasm. The music in the club grew louder as night came. The guests grew interested in the dancers. Fett broke up the meeting, dispersing the table into the club. During this he had removed his hand from your leg. Denied orgasm, you sat there in despair. Fennec stood up from the booth, “I’m going to sleep.” Fett nodded and she was off. You turned to him. He was staring at you.

“We can continue this elsewhere,” he propositioned you.

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im-the-punk-who · 4 years

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Hi, I dont know if you read or know anything about Macchiavelli's "Il principe", but I am studying it in school and I cant help but compare it's fundamentals to how Flint leads. I'm just curious about what you think

Eekekekekekekekekekekkek okay so first off Anon, you are absolutely, 100% right to be getting those vibes. If it’s not actually textual it is at the least meta-textual that Flint ascribes to a very Machiavellian type of leadership. His whole ‘never was there a Caesar who couldn't sing the tune’ speech is...licherally a direct reference to Machiavelli's philosophy that leaders cannot retain their leadership without sacrificing some level of ethical behavior in order to manipulate and deceive their subjects into following them.

And, Flint owns at least two books from thinkers who drew directly on Machiavellian thinking in their texts: De Jure Belli Ac Pacis by Hugo Grotus and The Leviathan by Thomas Hobbes are both visible in Flint’s cabin, and both drew heavily on the type of leadership principles established in books like Il Principe.

(Also, my eternal quest for the book that sits *under* The Leviathan in that scene remains. Y’all I will literally pay someone for this knowledge. My best guess is Plato’s De Republica.)

In fact, the whole system that Flint’s world was operating under at this time was very machiavellian in influence.

Henry VIII, who converted to Protestantism and who would eventually lead England in the conversion from Catholicism to Protestantism that would then in turn eventually lead the country into the War of Spanish Succession(the war being fought during the London 1705 flashbacks), was a student of Machiavellian thinking. He took the teachings of Il Principe to heart and used them to transform his country. Over the next hundred and fifty years, England would change from an entirely Catholic country to a Protestant one. Of note, Catholic scholars generally disagreed with Machiavelli’s principles on the grounds that it did not support the Divine Right of Kings.

As well, the Enlightenment thinkers that influenced Thomas Hamilton(and Flint himself) were starting to argue more for personal liberty and choice of the governed, both concepts presented in Machiavelli’s writings. (For those following along, this approach was also being used to justify slavery, as what was ‘good for the state is good for the man’ was used as justification for everything from impressment to colonization and slavery. Men were willing to set aside their morals for what they justified as good for the state. Shrug emoji.)

As James says of England when he and Thomas view the hanging in London:

“You think Whitehall wants piracy to flourish in the Bahamas?”

“No I don’t think they want it but I think they’re aware of the cost associated with trying to fight it. And I think that that sound travels.”

Here we see that Flint knows what Thomas doesn’t or does not want to accept: that England is willing to sacrifice some morality and some amount of lives(both of pirate-prisoners and the ships they take) in order to save themselves the financial burden of rooting out the causes of piracy. The justification for piracy was that it is too costly to fight, and that the nation ultimately benefits from a bit of strife as it drives prices up and allows England to place within the sights of its citizenry an identifiable enemy. (Note that Blackbeard also argues the same of Nassau, that prosperity ‘made it soft’.)

Even as he is changed by Thomas’ line of thinking, this lesson will stick with Flint and we’ll see it over and over again as he deals with the men’s hatred of himself by redirecting them towards other avenues(Vane, Hornigold, England, etc.)

And in actuality, this is what sets Thomas very much apart from his political brethren - he was *not* willing to sacrifice his morals in order to achieve a ‘more effective’ victory. Once he realizes that moral deficit shown by England, he creates the pardon plan to argue directly for a more moral and just way of governance. His whole premise for the pardons was to show England that an approach that considered the needs and wants of the governed was ultimately more effective, both in cost and in gaining the genuine good will of the people. And again, this is another likely reason why Thomas was then targeted by Peter Ashe and his father. Railing against the entire system of government was dangerous. Particularly if one was railing against the government in a way that could be seen as support of an opposing system of religion and political rule(remember how I said before that Catholics were generally against the Machiavellian systems?) Put plainly, Thomas’ rejection of Machiavelli’s leadership tactics would have been yet another argument for his treason against the crown.

Interestingly also, Marcus Aurelius - Thomas Hamilton’s homeboy - is said to be one of Machiavelli’s five “good” emperors, of whom Machiavelli wrote,

“[they] had no need of praetorian cohorts, or of countless legions to guard them, but were defended by their own good lives, the good-will of their subjects, and the attachment of the Senate.”

How we tryna be.

And so we see that Flint has - not so much fallen back into England’s line of thinking but perhaps that he never really fell out of it. And that this is actually a rift in his potential ability to conform to Thomas’ line of thinking, assuming we see that line as more morally correct. We do see Flint, gradually, throughout the course of the show, move more away from this Machiavellian line of thinking, especially once he meets Madi and the Maroons. And to me at least it’s one of the most important character shifts we see - in contrast to the trajectory of John Silver becoming Long John Silver - throughout the series. Just as Flint is finally starting to really value the lives of those around him, Silver has learned how effective those tactics can be in achieving his goals. As Hands says - ‘I wonder if he knows how much you learned from him.’

And in fact, Silver almost directly quotes Machiavelli at one point when he talks to Flint about their different leadership styles.

“I once thought that to lead men in this world, to be liked was just as good as being feared, and that may very well be true. But to be both liked and feared all at once, is an entirely different state of being in which, I believe, at this moment, I exist alone.”

Whereas Machiavelli in his chapters addressing cruelty and mercy writes

"Here a question arises: whether it is better to be loved than feared, or the reverse. The answer is, of course, that it would be best to be both loved and feared. But since the two rarely come together, anyone compelled to choose will find greater security in being feared than in being loved."

This is clearly the approach Flint has taken - he is the most feared captain on the seas. Certainly in the colonial world and on Nassau, too, his name brings a certain amount of fear with it. Because of this he has been safe from rebellion for quite a long time - however he is also not unaware that his power comes from the people. In the very first episode he talks of his plan with Gates to “position people in all the right places so the crew would never turn.” He has, for an unknown amount of time but I would suspect from the very beginning, been manipulating the crew’s opinion of him to keep them happy. Gates himself, and Silver later, are prime examples.

Both of them; Gates for the first ten years or so and Silver in seasons 2+3 act as a go between - being the ‘liked’ to Flint’s ‘feared’. They convince the crew - the ‘people’ in this case - that Flint’s plans are in their best interest and not truly the act of a tyrant. It is only when Flint forgets - or neglects to respect - that the will of his crew is how he keeps his power, that he really starts to fail. And, later also, that now he has a rival - Silver.

Now, I do want to point out that personally I don’t think Flint is a needlessly cruel ‘ruler’ in the sense the crew sometimes thinks he is, nor is he trying to be as a king is to english subjects. He has power, of course, and he does manipulate, lie, and kill if necessary to maintain his power in accordance with Machiavelli’s principles, but he does not do so ruthlessly or to a degree that is unnecessarily violent, nor with only his own advancement in mind. His goals genuinely are in service of the people he leads, even if the tactics he uses sometimes put them in danger for it. Moreso, I would argue that Flint is a prince who created his own princedom. He took an existing power structure(the pirate council in Blackbeard, Hornigold etc) and took most of the power for himself, either through luck, violence, or political maneuvering. And then he kept it through skill and tactical advantage.

Silver, in contrast to Flint’s new princedom, is truly a ‘prince of the people’. He comes to power through convincing the other pirates that he has their interests at heart - even when he doesn’t. But Silver soon learns that being a well-loved leader is difficult. It isn’t until Silver kills Dufresne and Billy uses that fear to build a legend that ‘Long John Silver’ the pirate king comes into being. Silver learns, just as Flint knew, that in a world or corruption, often leaders need to make sacrifices of things they would have once deemed important.

(I think it’s also important to note for Silver that his main goal is actually one Machiavelli writes of as being ‘a will of the people’. Silver’s main wish is not to rule, not really. His biggest motivator is ‘to be free’. To not have to make choices based on the will or subjugations of others. And so, he attempts to make the leadership forced upon him into something that frees him - unfortunately for him, Madi is right when she says that the ‘Crown is always a burden’ and it would be truly impossible for him to find the kind of freedom he wishes for while wearing it. Which, honestly, is part of why he ultimately fails in that regard as leader of the revolution.)

In the later seasons we see Flint go through this change in philosophy after he meets Madi and the Maroons. He begins to actually value the lives of the people he leads. When put to the choice of going through with the raid on the Underhill estate despite the risk it poses to the slaves on other plantations, Flint resists the idea. As he tells Madi - it would have cost them far more to ignore the ‘will’ of those people he hoped to lead - the slaves - than it would gain them to go through with the plan. And later, even though he can’t be blind to Max’s sway with Eleanor and the others, unlike Billy (and oh how the mighty have fallen, Mr. Bones!) he doesn’t even seem to consider keeping her rather than trading her for the lives of his other men. He no longer wants to trade a potential political victory for the suffering of those he leads. So, too, when he attempts to trade the cache for the fort, he is doing so with the goal being to not have to put those under his power in danger if there is another option. It is, at least to me, an incredibly moving character arc and one that is so very understated.

And honestly, I think it’s what *needed* to happen before he could move on from his rage-hate bender and begin to find the sort of peace that one might argue those ‘good’ rulers had. Machiavelli’s principles tend to get in the way of your ability to connect with other people: when you see them just as pawns in a game, friends and foes lose their intrinsic value of just being important on an emotional level. It is only through learning to truly value his partners that Flint can learn how to be a better and more just leader.

Also, this passage in chapter 15 absolutely KILLS me in regards to both Flint, and Thomas Hamilton:

“Men have imagined republics and principalities that never really existed at all. Yet the way men live is so far removed from the way they ought to live that anyone who abandons what is for what should be pursues his downfall rather than his preservation; for a man who strives after goodness in all his acts is sure to come to ruin, since there are so many men who are not good.”

Like bitch!! We get it!! Too much sanity!!! Shut up!!!!!

Anyway, all this to say that you’re absolutely right in seeing parallels between Flint’s style of leadership and a Machiavellian prince - he is absolutely written as a prince-like leader. As are Silver, Rogers, even the Maroon Queen(and Scott and Madi as extensions of her) can be compared to certain rulers in Machiavelli’s archetypes. Even Thomas, who models himself after one of those ‘good emperors’ engenders a type of political leader Machiavelli writes about.

(Also lastly, i want to very quickly point out this guy, Cesare Borgia:

Who was a prince of ‘fortune’ who lost his princedom to trusting the wrong person. What a beard, amirite? What a face. He’s even got the rings! I’m sure this means nothing.)

So basically yeah, Flint is absolutely a Machiavelli bitch.

#anyway talk dirty morally grey philosophy to me!!!#black sails #james mcgraw #captain flint #machiavelli #black sails meta #milos black sails meta #long post #Anonymous

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werevulvi · 4 years

Text

I wanted to write a bit about sex segregated spaces, in regards to people who pass as the opposite sex. This is not actually about trans people, as much as it is about the safety, integrity and general rights of male-passing biological women. I am not the only gender non-conforming woman who gets tossed out of female only spaces, based on the false presumption that we’re men. I do not care about validating trans women, or even trans men, for that matter. I care about real life practicality, risks and safety for ALL women, not just those who look conveniently clearly female, which starts with accepting that some women, whether they've medically transitioned or not, pass as male. And none of them should have to feminise themselves to access female only spaces. Whether that be to ensure safety from males, or to just take a leak.

The fact that I choose to keep my beard has almost nothing to do with that I'm male-passing. It may be my strongest "male" feature, but it's hardly the only one. I still pass as male with a clean shaven face, which makes shaving my beloved beard rather pointless, in my opinion. I would realistically need to go through more than just facial hair removal to pass as my own sex again. I'd probably even need facial feminisation surgery, hair transplant, voice feminisation and full body hair removal, at the very least, to even get close to passing as female again. But even then, I'd probably STILL be read as a trans woman, i.e. male. And even IF I did all that... WHY should I have to mutilate myself (a second time) by buying into harmful patriarchal beauty standards, which would worsen my dysphoria and reduce my comfort in my own skin significantly, to be allowed the safety of male-free spaces?

Does that sound feminist to you? Because to me, it's incredibly misogynistic, and strongly counterproductive. To uphold patriarchal gender roles for the safety of women... is the most insanely anti-feminist double standard I can possibly ever think of.

To lay out my argument on this topic, I'm going to use my own experiences as examples a lot. Mostly because I cannot with any conscience speak for anyone else than myself, at least not in such detail and with such harsh judgement. But I'm sure a lot of my experiences are applicable to other masculine women as well.

First off, I still consider myself gender critical, but my allegiance to radical feminism has been waning lately. This is mostly due to that although I agree with the base premise of radfem, I tend to disagree with the proposed solutions to almost all of the issues, because to me they come across as unfounded beliefs (yes, BELIEFS) that "it would just work" without much of any evidence to back up such a claim.

And when it comes to trans people, I've noticed a lot of... shall we say, willful ignorance, going on among many radfems, which does affect opinions on gender abolishion as well as sex segregated spaces to appear rather... intellectually dishonest, to be frank. Although this is not intended as a call out by any means, I merely want for people of all sides of the radfem/gender critical/pro-trans fence to stay critical and keep questioning everything, even one's own beloved ideology. Which I don't see a lot of. Instead I see almost religious defending of radfem as the ultimate/perfect ideology... oh, guess where I've seen that before? I've come to believe that "hivemindedness" is probably part of every possible ideology out there. Even radfem.

So, anyway.

One thing I come across time and time again is the belief (yes, I dare say "belief") that people never pass as the opposite sex, although it's mostly directed at trans people, this very much applies to people who are just gnc as well. Let's not forget that. And this belief seem to often lead to that transitioned/gnc people can just use the space intended for their biological sex, no problem. However, this is not the case. There is a problem. Very many trans people, and some gnc people, pass well enough to at least blend in enough to not raise much of an eyebrow among the opposite sex, and to most definitely stand out as an outsider among people of the same sex. OR they pass barely enough as either sex, and thus stand out as an outsider among both the same sex and the opposite sex, which can cause similar problems with single sex spaces.

There's also the thing that it generally is easier to pass as the opposite sex among complete strangers, compared to people who know you/your background. They tend to read you differently, depending on that.

At least in my experience, complete strangers assume I'm male and don't even as much as raise an eyebrow about how male I come across as. They accept their false assumption at face value. And why wouldn't they? 99,97% of people who "look like me" are biologically men. Then people who know I'm transitioned, but didn't know me pre-transition, tend to see me as a female who looks very convincingly male, whether that makes me a masculine woman, trans man, or any other (female) label in their eyes. They claim to be able to "see" my female nature, yet they somehow had no idea before I told them about my true sex. Then people who know about my history and saw it happen from the time before my transition (now only really my family) never quite succeeded to see me as anything other than a gnc woman. To quote my dad: "You look like a woman who's trying to look like a man." Although I'm sure my mom and sister don't have quite as harsh views about me, lol. They still seem to see me the way they always have, regardless of what name or pronouns they use for me.

This matters, because although people who know I'm transitioned and may even have witnessed my transition from the beginning, struggle to see me as a man (which I respect entirely and I'm VERY careful to not push wanting to be seen/read as anything in particular, but also, people do not want to be rude, especially irl) that does not go for people who have never even seen me before the moment I walk into... say, a public bathroom. To them I cannot possibly be anything other than a man, and it's almost impossible to change their view of me as male once their brains have registered me as such. I need to conjure up pretty fucking compelling evidence to shatter that view they have of me.

This is important, because it means I cannot feasibly use female only spaces, unless someone else (who is also female) vouches for me and explains my situation for me. This is, most likely due to people being more likely to believe an unlikely explanation when it's told by someone else, because maybe I could be lying; and only someone of the same sex as me can accompany/escort me into female only spaces, obviously. But even then, there's a ton of tension around my presentation. An air of distrust, basically. The question that hangs in the air: "Is that a trans woman?" even after they've been given a thorough explanation of my situation. It's uncomfortable for everyone involved. Imagine how it goes then if I'd just show up unannounced, and without someone to vouch for me. I just get booted on sight.

Yes, I can whine about this all day, but that is NOT my point.

My point is that I'm either directly, or implicitly, unwelcome in female only spaces, despite being biologically female, because of my transitioned appearance... despite I'm not even on testosterone anymore since 2 years ago. Sure, most gnc women (whether transitioned or not) don't seem to have turned out quite as passable as me, but clearly, it happens. So let's stop pretending that it doesn't.

So with that in mind, I don't always have access to a gender neutral space. Like for example when I travel with the ferry that goes between my island and the mainland of my country, there is only men's bathrooms and women's bathrooms. No third option. That's a 3 hour boat ride, and with my coffee drinking habit, I will need to pee at some point or another while aboard that ship, alright. And no, peeing in the ocean is not an option, as squatting over the railing would be incredibly dangerous, and most likely not even remotely allowed. Granted, I don't take the ferry often, it's just the most clear example I can think of. Because it's my only means of transportation to/from the mainland, except from flying, which is incredibly expensive, less reliable and obviously an environmental hazard. So when I do have to use that ferry, I'm kinda stuck with my choices.

So then, am I better off going with the men's or women's bathroom? I am much more likely to be left alone to do my business in the men's, so even though that is not the space I want to be in, nor do I think it's "right" for me to be there, sometimes it's even a bit scary, other times even impractical if there's only urinals and no stall, and it's absolutely not validating at all - it's the only bathroom that I can realistically use, without too much trouble. And I don't want trouble. But I also hate having to put my own safety on the backburner for the perceived safety of other women, who are not actually at any higher safety risk when left alone with me.

So, onto the more general, political aspects of this issue:

Women in male only spaces may be less of an issue in regards to safety, at least for the majority of people (men) in that space, especially if the woman in question passes as male. No one gives a fuck, generally. But problem is then that she is at far greater risk than the majority of people (women) would be with a single male, in a female only space. As I think a group of women against one male is generally less risk towards the women, when compared to a group of men against a single female, which can be extremely dangerous for her. Although I've so far never been faced with any sort of violence in a male only space, let's not pretend that my presense in a male only space is somehow LESS dangerous for me, than how dangerous the presense of ONE male in a space with a whole group of women, would be for those women. Statistically and realistically, I'm at a far greater risk than they are, and no, I do not have any more choice in the matter than they do.

Thus, this kinda skewed idea of safety and choice, becomes a question of ethics, I think.

Furthermore, I'm a person of principles, and it wouldn't sit right with me that if males should never under any circumstances be allowed in female spaces, but females could be allowed in male spaces. I refuse to be a hypocrit on purpose! No, if males should never under any circumstances be allowed in female spaces, then females should also never under any circumstances be allowed in male spaces. OR, if females CAN under some special circumstances be allowed into male spaces, then males should be allowed the same in female spaces. Both of these solutions pose serious problems, which I keep seeing being brushed under the carpet a lot, and that annoys me.

But if we go with the first idea, of barring people from using opposite sex spaces altogether, then where the fuck do I pee? Should I utilise my "right" to use female spaces, despite making everyone uncomfortable and feeling threatened by my presense, as well as risking being kicked out and forced to use the equivalent male spaces anyway, which is exactly what that idea is meant to prevent - or should I completely avoid being in places which I know does not have a gender neutral bathroom, such as the ferry? Would that not be discrimination? Which is the most reasonable option here, what is the most practical, what's wrong and what's right? Do I even have a RIGHT to use female bathrooms, and if so, how do I prove it, considering my ID still says I'm male?

Trans men aren't gonna be nearly as willing to use female only spaces, and trans women definitely not eager to use male only spaces. But aside from that validation factor, I have the exact same struggle as trans people do on this particular point. Quite often they do toss and turn at which bloody bathroom to pick, not just out of validation, but because they genuinely struggle to figure out which one is the best option for them practically. Especially if they don't quite pass as either sex, and most and foremost just wanna do their business without unneccesary drama.

Also, to clarify: barring trans people from opposite sex spaces is NOT discrimination, as they never belonged there to begin with - but leaving them with no other option than to pee themselves, is. Which means that I think it's fucked up to barr them from those spaces BEFORE having solved the problem of "if they can't go there, then where?"

Perhaps I'm the only one around here who cares about males' integrity, safety and human rights. But even if so, I should not be the only one to care about gnc females' integrity, safety and rights. Male-passing females, whether transitioned or not, whether bearded or not, are still female, and if we don't want them in female only spaces, and not in male only spaces either; why? Because they "chose" to medically transition and/or dress in men's clothing?

Yeah, well, in most cases of transitioned females, they transitioned because of dysphoria, which no one chooses to have. It's a medical condition. Barring people from spaces they'd otherwise be welcomed into, due to the visual outcome of the treatment of their medical condition... is ableism. Barring a woman from a female only space she belongs in, solely because her unusual physical appearance freaks you out... is ableism. Also, simply being gnc and being viscerally uncomfortable with presenting femininely is also not a choice. And even if it was... shouldn't it be? That's why I cannot roll with that sorta solution. I dunno if it counts as a form of discrimination by definition, but it just smells a lot like it from where I sit. That it's no more right to toss me out of, or give me trouble, in a women's bathroom, than a masculine women who also passes as male but who has not medically transitioned.

That said, however, women's safety DOES matter a lot to me. Hence my reluctance to join their spaces, despite being a woman myself. I guess, what I'd want is complete sex segregation to work in my favour, but I can't promote a rule that would discriminate against me. I'm sorry, I just can't. I desire FUNCTIONAL sex segregated spaces, but realistically they cannot function. Truth is that the only womens spaces I've been allowed into since I began passing as male, are "trans inclusionary" ones that openly allow in trans women, ironically. I care about the safety of other women, and their right to have their own spaces... but not at the expense of my own rights, as a fellow woman. To say otherwise would be a crime against myself. I really wish this could be solved in some way that would work in practice, but honestly I don't think it can anytime soon. Not without some seriously tried and proven, practical and humane methods to check what sex people entering single sex spaces actually are.

That is the reality that people have to face. And personally I'd rather focus on women's rights than trans rights, but as a woman who's medically transitioning, I'd shoot my own foot no matter which one I'd choose. That's quite a dilemma.

So where my opinion stands on this right now, is basically this: I think female only spaces should only be for biological women, but I'm reluctantly okay-ish with males who pass as female utilising female only spaces, and vice versa for females in male only spaces. However, this does not feel ideal at all. It's a compromise. Ideally, I want such spaces to be entirely sex segregated, and for even people who pass as the opposite sex (like myself) to be allowed into spaces of their biological sex. My appeal here is both realistic practicality with the reality that some people really do pass as the opposite sex, as well as the safety, rights and integrity of male-passing women.

#female only spaces #gnc women #yes some trans people pass #but not only trans people pass #radical feminism #gender critical #ok to rb #my opinions and concerns

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sophfic27 · 4 years

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The Mysterious Watch (You know the one)

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Chapter 6: Exposition about the Ralmaeth with Some Angst at the End

I’m just calling this chapter what it is.

Word Count: 1,399

Once the pair arrived back at their hotel room, Jo set about tearing down the now irrelevant pages from her wall. She ripped a few pages from a nearby notebook, taped them onto the wall, and began to draw. Yaz watched in confusion for a few moments until the drawings took shape, and she realized that Jo was drawing the machines from the warehouse. She was impressed by how quickly Jo was able to recreate the complex machinery from memory.

“Where’d you learn to draw?” she asked offhand.

“Gallifrey,” Jo responded, absentmindedly.

Yaz stared at her for a moment. Gallifrey should not be something Jo was aware of. But Jo didn’t seem to notice anything strange about her remark. Yaz wondered if she should ask what she meant, to test Jo for any residual awareness of the Doctor.

Before she got the chance, Jo turned on her heel, facing Yaz and preparing to explain something, as usual.

“Right, so, we clearly found the Ralmaeth, and based on the big machines, I’m going to consider my previous theory that they were building bigger versions of their old sleeping battery headsets all but confirmed.” She gestured toward her drawing and the old headset plans pinned up just next to them. “So now, we transition into the ‘stop them’ portion of our mission.”

Yaz nodded and decided now would be her only time to interject with questions before Jo really kicked off. “So how come those two guys looked the same? Were they like twins or something?”

Jo shook her head, “no, that was a perception filter. Good with brainwaves, remember? My guess is they are using something to make us see them as humanoid since usually, they aren’t,” she explained, “normally they’re big and greenish with antennae, so they’re using perception filters to blend in. But their filters only do one guy, so the brain replaces all of them with that one guy, ‘Mr. Al Armet.’” She drew quotes in the air with her fingers, “which, mind you, isn’t even a clever name. An anagram? How thick do they think we are?” Jo chuckled.

Yaz hadn’t even realized, but Jo was right. The name was an anagram for Ralmaeth. She shrugged, “I guess they were hoping we wouldn’t make the connection to the Ralmaeth,” she said. “What was on the lease?”

Jo turned and found the paper in question. “Um, it just says ‘Thiokol Co.’” Jo shrugged, “so there was no actual name, just a fake company one. That’s why I didn’t notice them. Thiokol is a polymer used in sealants, so I thought they might be a chemical company.”

Yaz walked over to study the drawings of the machines, “so now we find a way to destroy them, yeah?” She looked at Jo and asked, “so how do we go about that?”

Jo looked at the wall and thought for a minute. “First we find a weakness, and then we exploit it,” she said, pointing at the drawing, “for example, these machines are structured very similarly to the old spaceships the Ralmaeth came in in the ‘70s. Looks like the same metal and the same rivets.” Jo grinned, “we can use that.”

“How do you mean?”

Jo went into her files and pulled out a series of papers about the Ralmaeths’ ships, showing photographs of a ship both intact and disassembled. “So back in the ‘70s, when the Doctor chased the Ralmaeth off-world, they left one ship behind,” she looked at Yaz, anticipating her question, “engine problems. They landed in five ships, but only left in four. They were in a hurry, and must not have felt like fixing it was all that worth it. The Doctor has that effect.” Yaz was still thrown off by hearing Jo refer to the Doctor in the Third Person, especially using masculine pronouns, but she brushed it off to focus again. “Since they left it, UNIT took the opportunity to study it. Took it apart, put it back together again, ran tests on it, learned all the ins and outs of that ship. And there are some pretty crucial flaws.” She showed Yaz an image of a few sheets of metal riveted together. Jo was right, they looked exactly like the machines in the warehouse. But the metal shell in the picture looked bent and cracked.

She pointed at the photograph, “why is it all bent up and broken in that one?”

Jo grinned at Yaz, “good eye, that’s the flaw. The metal the Ralmaeth used in their ships is sensitive to the cold. It becomes unstable and warps and breaks easily,” she explained, tracing a crack on the metal with her finger. “It doesn’t even have to be that cold. Rubbish for space travel, honestly, so the Ralmaeth had a heat shell. It could be activated from inside, and would keep the metal warm enough not to warp.” She pinned up the photograph on the wall, “If you were to take off in less than warm conditions, the ship would start leaking, and might explode. That’s what basically happened to the Challenger,” Jo gave her a serious look.

“So how do we apply that to these machines?” Yaz wondered aloud.

“Exactly,” Jo was smirking again, “did you feel how hot it was in that warehouse?” Come to think of it, she had. Yaz nodded as Jo continued. “They know that their metal is weaker in the cold, so they use the warehouse’s climate control to keep it stable. So we can do the same, but in the opposite direction.”

Yaz blinked at the wall. “We’re gonna destroy their machines… with climate control?” she asked, somewhat disbelieving.

Jo shrugged defensively, “not just climate control,” she clarified, “making it cold would destabilize the metal, but it wouldn’t do any serious enough structural damage to stop them, and it’s easily fixed by just turning the heating back on or moving them. So we’ll need something else.”

Jo got to work drawing a new device in her notebook. Yaz wandered over to look over her shoulder. She couldn’t tell what it was meant to be or do from sight alone, and she questioned how Jo would even get it.

“So what’s that then?” Yaz asked Jo.

“Seismic Device,” Jo said simply.

“Seismic? Like an earthquake?”

“Exactly,” Jo tore out the completed blueprint, and Yaz was once again shocked by how quickly Jo had drawn it.

“So where are we meant to get that?”

Jo looked at her dead in the eye, “we build it.”

Yaz stared at her. She knew that the Doctor was the building type, but she questioned why her human persona who was meant to be a field agent would be able to. “How are we gonna do that exactly?” Jo scoffed, “are you doubtin’ me, Yaz?”

Yaz shook her head, “no, it’s just I don’t know the first thing about how to build a seismic device, how do you?”

Jo smiled and winked at her smugly, “I studied Mechanical Engineering in Uni. I’m a woman of many talents,” she stated.

“No kidding,” Yaz muttered under her breath. Jo gave her a quick, smug look, and she realized she had been heard.

As Jo started to work on something on her computer, Yaz remembered Jo’s previous comment about having wanted to be a Doctor when she was young, and she wondered how she moved from that to Mechanical Engineering.

It was a few minutes before she suddenly remembered that Jo wasn’t even real. Her motives for changing intended careers or study paths were irrelevant because they didn’t even exist. They were all false memories compiled to make her believably human, even to herself.

It was just then that Yaz suddenly realized that she would soon be saying goodbye to Jo. She’d been so focused on the Doctor returning, she hadn’t really thought about it, but now she was hit with the weight of what she would have to do. Regardless of the realness of her memories and her past, Jo was real for now. Yaz knew that she was different from the Doctor. And all of that was going to disappear when Yaz made her open the watch.

Which begged the question: did bringing the Doctor back count as murdering Jo, a woman Yaz had come to… connect to? And she was suddenly worried if she would even be able to do it.

#13th Doctor #human!13 #yaz x 13 #13 x yaz #doctor who #Doctor Who fanfic #doctor who fandom #Human!Doctor #thirteen #Thirteenth Doctor #thirteen x yaz #yaz x thirteen #doctor who yaz #yaz doctor who #Chameleon Arch #thasmin fanfic #thasmin #yasmin khan #My writing

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