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girl-next-door-writes · 3 years

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Fine Lines between Fantasy and Reality

Characters: Mycroft Holmes x reader

Summary: Mycroft has to track down the mystery woman from Valentines Day and convince her to accompany him and his parents to the theatre. Will it be a success or a catalogue of disasters?

Word Count: 1854 words

Prompt: “Look out! It’s icy!”

This was definitely not what he should be doing with his time and resources. There were several fires which needed putting out, several issues needing his attention, and yet Mycroft sat in his office, laptop open on the desk in front of him, tracking the cctv from Valentines Day.

His heart had given a little jump in his chest when he had spotted you accompanying him out of the restaurant. Not exactly the reaction he wanted; it would do no good for sentiment to be involved in this already awkward situation. Following your form getting into the cab, he then tracked the vehicle to an address he could only presume was yours. From there, he found your name, occupation, financial status… well, from that single act of snooping he snagged himself the keys to your entire existence.

Mycroft felt unnerved scanning through your details. This was far less pleasant than listening to your sweet voice volunteering such insights, trusting him enough to share yourself with him. Closing the file with an air of frustration, he picked up the post-it note, which held your personal mobile number. For a moment, he considered texting you, but part of him felt an ache to see you once again, not on a screen or in a memory, but actually sitting across from him. He had your mobile number; it would not be difficult to track your movements and hopefully reveal an opening for him to slip back into your life as if serendipitously.

The rain beat down against the pavement, splattering across windows and turning the world a strange greyscale. The small bell above the door tinkled as he entered the tiny café in the park, quickly shaking off his umbrella as his eyes scanned the room.

You were sat at a table in the corner, your concentration on your phone, appearing to be reading. He took a moment to just look at you, not analyze or deduce, simply to admire. You looked far more comfortable in today’s outfit choice, much more cozy and yourself. It would seem you had escaped the weather, your coat dry as it hung from the chair behind you. Mycroft ordered himself a tea and navigated his way through the people and precarious puddles of the café.

“Mind if I join you?” He asked, nerves cascading around his stomach.

“Oh!” Your eyes flashed with recognition before you gave him a slight smile. “I was beginning to wonder if you were real. I know you are definitely not Alexander, I arrived home to a deluge of messages from my friend apologizing for him not showing up. So, Not Alexander, do you make a habit of dining with other people’s blind dates?”

Mycroft sat in the vacant chair opposite you and placed his drink on the table, his cheeks heating up in a rather uncharacteristic manner. “I do not, however, when a beautiful woman sits down at my table and immediately launches into an apology for being late, it is rather difficult to explain that I am not the dining companion she had been expecting.”

“Ah, so this was entirely my fault?” You teased, and his heart raced as he took in the glint in your eye.

“Not at all. I would not attribute ‘blame’, I would simply say it was a fortuitous mishap.” Extending his hand, he gave you a genuine smile. “Mycroft Holmes, it is an absolute pleasure to meet you.”

You gave him your name, although he already knew it, and the conversation flowed as easily as it had done that fateful evening. He was so caught up in the interaction that he completely forgot the purpose of tracking you down. That was until you noticed the time and said you really had to go.

“Before you do, may I ask a favour? You see, my parents are in the city at the moment, and I may have mentioned that I did not spend Valentines alone.” He winced slightly at the memory, feeling incredibly awkward.

“Ah, so to get your parents off your back you bent the truth a little? You need a fake girlfriend for some event?”

“Something like that.” He frowned. Mycroft liked how astute you were, but the word ‘fake’ had rankled him a little.

“When, where, and what backstory do you need me to know. Also, do they have to like me or hate me?” You stood up, already putting on your coat.

“Tomorrow evening, we have tickets to see Wicked, and I would rather you just be yourself and they can form whatever opinion they want.” Mycroft already knew his mother would either adore you or pick fault, hopefully the former.

“Okay, Mycroft. It’s a date.” You took an old receipt out of your bag and scrawled your number on it. “Let me know the details and I will see you there.” And with a smile, you left a very confused but elated Mycroft with his cold tea.

Mycroft had insisted on picking you up, his excuse being that the two of you could go over your story once again in the car, but really, he just could not wait to see you. As you sat in the back seat, he watched you smooth your skirt down and smiled to himself. You were nervous. Was that due to him or his parents? He couldn’t be certain, but if you wished to make a good first impression on his parents then that must mean this was a little bit real, didn’t it?

The car pulled up outside the theatre and Mycroft quickly got out, jogging round to open your door, offering his hand to help you out, unaware that his parents were already waiting on the steps of the theatre, watching his arrival with knowing smiles.

“Don’t embarrass the boy, he might never introduce another girl to us if you do.” His father muttered, but his wife had already moved to greet their son.

“Mykie!” She called, arms open wide as she expected a hug. Mycroft bristled at the nickname and acquiesced to the silent demand, stiffly hugging her before stepping back and extending his hand to you.

“Mummy, this is…” But he didn’t manage to actually get your name out before his mother had pulled you into a rough hug.

“It is so lovely to finally meet you! Mykie has been telling us so much about you, dear.”

“Mycroft is the name you gave me, if you could possibly struggle all the way to the end of it…”

“Hello, my boy. Best not get in the way of this one, not if you’re hoping your young lady will last the evening without having to rush off for some ‘family emergency’.” His father sighed, watching the Holmes matriarch hook your arm through hers and lead you into the theatre.

If Mycroft had believed a theatre trip provided less opportunity for his mother to grill you then he was proved drastically mistaken. The lights had barely flickered to life at the interval before his mother was up, dragging you with her to the ladies room. He could only guess what was being discussed, how you were holding up, if you hadn’t taken the chance to run! His father handed him another glass of wine and patted his shoulder.

“Well, I’d say she likes her. That’s a double-edged sword, of course, but I think you’ve got yourself a good one there.”

Mycroft couldn’t help but nod in agreement, you were amazing, and he wished this wasn’t just some role you were playing, that you were actually his partner.

He had already provided an excuse as to why the pair of you needed to dash after the performance, and he was thankful he had, because it appeared that his mother had no intention of letting you go easily.

“Next time we are in the city we should go for lunch.” Mother Holmes was saying, holding your hands in hers as her husband attempted to steer her towards their waiting car.

“Absolutely. We can do some shopping without the men folk around too.” You beamed, giving her hands a squeeze before slipping from her grip, leaning back against Mycroft. It was a gesture that caused a bashful smile to dance on his lips, not that you noticed, you were too caught up in his mother’s goodbyes.

Once in the safety of the car, he turned to you with a look of apprehension. “I am so sorry for…”

“Your parents are adorable!” You blurted out, grinning at him. “Honestly, thank you so much for tonight, I had so much fun. Your father is hilarious, and your mother is so unbelievably clever, I can see where you get it from now. I hope I haven’t made your real girlfriends job too difficult.”

“Real girlfriend?” Mycroft’s brow furrowed.

“Yeah, the girl you’ve been telling your mother about. I am guessing you needed a stand in because she’s not the kind of girl who thinks ‘Wicked’ with your parents is a fun night out.” You had shrugged and Mycroft felt his heart crack. How could you believe for a single second that he would use you like that?

The rest of the car ride to your home was silent, his mind running a million miles a minute, trying to find the words, the right way to convey what he was feeling. Not that he knew how he was actually feeling.

All too soon, the car came to a halt and you had opened the door, already half out before you turned to smile at him, bidding him ‘goodnight’.

He couldn’t just let you go, not like this. Throwing his own car door open, Mycroft jumped out and jogged around to where you were standing with every intention of telling you that there was no other woman, that he wanted you to be The Woman, his woman.

“Look out! It’s icy!” you called, but too late. Time seemed to slow, and he tried to keep his balance, he really did. The patch of black ice sent him scrambling in a manner most ungraceful until he landed, rather hard, on his coccyx. “Oh, my goodness, are you okay?”

“I fear I may be a little bruised, but I shall be just fine.” He managed to say through gritted teeth as you helped him to his feet. “My intention was to walk you to your door.”

“It’s okay. I’m a big girl, can walk myself. You get in your car and get home for a long soak in the bath. I don’t want your mother to get cross with me for you being injured.” You teased and Mycroft felt a warmth in his chest. “Go on, Holmes, before you fall.”

The problem was, he already had. Aside from the physical fall, which he would replay in his nightmares, he had fallen even harder for the beautiful, funny, smart, amazing woman who believed their interactions were filled with subterfuge and fakery. As he watched you open your door, disappearing inside your home, he felt a weight press down heavy on his heart. Twice now he’d let his moment slip away.

#Mycroft Holmes #Mycroft Holmes x reader #something i wrote

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a-small-batch-of-dragons · 3 years

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Healing

Prompts: So I’ve recently binged all your SS fics practically and I know you SWAMPED in prompts, but if this sounds like something you could enjoy creating I’d love to request a promt as well:

Set in your SS Butterfly Project, could we maybe get Virgil reacting to all the sides (specifically L and Ro) learning to heal, and bouncing between helping sooth everyone’s anxiety over all the changes? I’d just love under appreciated Virgil helping in the moments in between the healing process if that makes any sense…

I appreciate the he*l out of you regardless if you take this prompt or not; and you deserve all the kindness the world has to offer you. ❤️ - mylgbtbabies

I would take any fic where somethigns off and virgil knows it. Someone: Im sure its fine!! Virgil: Idk man Im anxiety my spooder sense be tingly. - anon

If you're taking requests for Sanders Sides uwu can I ask for something Virgil-centric? I just love the emo boy - anon

ahh yes the babes

Read on Ao3

Warnings: ngl this one's pretty much fluff

Pairings: DLAMP, LAMP, DLAMPR, that found family

Word Count: 3538

Healing: To restore to health or soundness; cure.

Healing: To ease or relieve (emotional distress).

* * *

Healing isn’t a linear process.

It’s messy, it’s hard, and no one should expect it to be anything otherwise. Humans are complicated, more often than not brains are absolute garbage, and trying to navigate everything on your own is difficult. Really difficult.

So is learning how to ask for help.

Virgil sighs and leans back against the couch as Roman continues to type on his laptop. He risks a glance up at Princey to see his brow furrowed slightly in concentration. Every so often he’ll quirk his eyebrow in the way that means he just made a hilarious typo and has to go back. Virgil hides a smile as he turns his attention back to his phone. Can’t intrude too much on the process, that’s not how it works. He glances up to make sure no one’s coming down the stairs and shifts his weight again.

“Are you alright?”

There’s Roman, taking care of everyone else first. “I’m good, Princey, just trying not to fuck up my spine.”

“…do you want to come sit up here with me? I won’t mind.”

Virgil cranes his neck back, letting a slow and lazy smile come across his face. “Nah, ‘m good right here. You just make with the typey typey, okay?”

Roman smiles too, victory achieved. “Okay.”

“That’s my Princey.”

Virgil isn’t humble enough to not feel the little rush of pride at seeing a quick flush spread to Roman’s ears as he turns his attention back to his laptop. Suppressing a chuckle, he starts mindlessly scrolling again, getting sucked back into whatever’s contaminating his dash this time. What’s this about a k-drama…?

“Oh! There you are!”

Patton might not notice the way Roman startles, but Virgil does. He looks up and quickly shakes his head as Patton comes the rest of the way down the stairs.

“It’s work hours, Pat.”

“Oh, I thought—“ Virgil gives him a look that he knows Patton understands as Roman is setting the rules here, and he nods quickly— “well don’t mind me, I’m just getting a drink.”

Roman relaxes slightly as Patton bustles in and out of the kitchen, then a little more as Virgil reaches up to squeeze his hand.

“Thank you,” comes the quiet mumble.

“I gotcha, Princey. Work hours are your thing, I’m happy to help.”

Sure enough, a few minutes later, when Logan comes down the stairs carrying his computer, he takes one look at them in the living room before his mouth drops open slightly.

“Is it…work hours?”

“Mhm,” Virgil says, letting his head loll back, “you wanna join?”

“May I? I can be quiet as well.”

Virgil looks up at Roman. Roman glances up, smile softening when he sees it’s Logan, and gently pats the sofa next to him. Logan smiles too and yeah, okay, Virgil’s fine with his edge lord image fading slightly if it means he gets to be fond at watching these two nerds be gentle with each other.

The two of them start to type on their laptops, Logan’s constant murmurs of what he’s working on an amusing contrast to Roman’s silent yet expressive face. Virgil keeps the barrier there, warding off Janus and Remus when they try and drag the others into the dramatics—if anyone, especially Janus, tries to deny that he’s as much a part of it as Remus is, do not under any circumstances believe them—to keep the nerds safe.

After a while, when Virgil re-emerges from whatever deep dive he’s gone on this time—and yeah, he might be looking to pirate that k-drama, maybe—he realizes there’s no more typing. He looks up, a little concerned, only to be incredibly glad no one else is around to see him melt at the sight on the couch.

Roman’s laptop lies partially closed on his lap, the screen just touching the tops of his knuckles. His head and shoulders are angled toward Logan and his eyes are closed. Logan’s glasses are slipping slightly off his face, his head on Roman’s shoulder, eyes closed, lips parted slightly as his hair falls back into his face. His laptop has been set on the coffee table, somewhere safe.

Virgil shakes his head, standing and carefully taking Roman’s laptop from him. He saves whatever’s on it and sets it next to Logan’s. Then he takes the blanket from the back of the couch and carefully drapes it over the two of them. He slides Logan’s glasses from his face and undoes the top button of Princey’s collar. Can’t do for them to have a red mark, after all. And he sits back down to keep watch.

Sometimes, when they’re doing better, they ask for more. Roman comes to him sometimes and asks, very very quietly, but he does ask, for Virgil to come sit with him by his room. Virgil happily takes up residence in the warm spot in the hallway next to Roman’s room, right where the big windows are, soaking in the warmth from outside as Roman closes the door gently behind himself.

Something that everyone had to learn pretty quick once Logan and Roman started reaching out was that both of them are extremely private people. On the surface, it might seem like they’re different—and if they’re being honest, they certainly thought they were very different—but they aren’t. Not really. Roman hides behind being too much, Logan hides behind not being anything. Whether or not anyone actually knows them without any of the facades is up for debate.

Except each other. They…they…know each other.

Virgil would be lying if he said he isn’t a little jealous of how close the two of them have become. There are soft smiles they only have for each other now, little brushes of their hands against each other’s as a constant way of saying ‘I’m here, I see you, are you alright?’ And sometimes it’s Virgil’s job to sit outside one of their rooms as they try and hold each other steady.

Their company feels better than their solitude and it’s up to them to decide where that line is.

Today, Virgil’s just keeping an eye on Roman. Fielding off anyone who comes to knock on his door, glaring away the more persistent ones who don’t seem to understand that Roman needs his space right now, kindly fuck off. Logan comes around the corner and immediately understands and he sees them murmur quietly to each other when it’s time for dinner.

When he watches Logan, it’s a little harder. Because poor Logan is so used to pushing himself to the side to be able to make decisions, to help do things, that Virgil has to remind everyone involved that no, Logan’s enforced a boundary that means he doesn’t want to be disturbed right now, he’s allowed to do that, let’s leave him be for now. Left brain boys have to stick together.

But the others, to a certain extent, are easy. They care about Roman and Logan as much as Virgil does, and if it’s to help them, they’ll do whatever they have to. Protecting them from themselves…that’s another story.

Logan is too fucking good at pretending he’s fine. He’s too good at pretending he doesn’t have emotions, that he doesn’t care what’s going on unless it’s the absolute most illogical thing that’s happening. So, sometimes he has to work a little harder to get Logan to admit it.

“L,” he mutters as the others continue to argue, “check-in.”

“I’m fine.”

Janus shoots him a look as he continues to argue. Virgil tugs gently on Logan’s sleeve.

“No one’s gonna be mad if you say you aren’t, bud.”

Logan shakes his head firmly, eyes still trained on the way Patton and Janus are insisting that they’re the one right.

“Hey,” Virgil says softly, making them take a step back, “I need you to look at me, L.”

“What is the purpose of this?”

“You’re seizing up again.” Logan looks down at his hands, sees the way they’re shaking as Virgil gently runs a finger over the back of one of them. “It’s okay, bud, you’re gonna be fine, you just have to let yourself not be for a moment, okay?”

Logan risks a glance at the others but they haven’t noticed anything. Well, that’s not entirely accurate. Judging by the way Janus is being more dramatic than normal and Roman has turned so his back is facing them, they’ve noticed something’s wrong and are purposefully not noticing anything else.

“Logan,” Virgil calls, “do you need a minute?”

Logan’s mouth opens, closes, then he nods sharply.

“Okay, thank you, I’m really proud of you for saying that. Can I sink you out?”

Another sharp nod.

Virgil sets his hand gently on Logan’s elbow and sinks them out, right outside Logan’s room. He nods to the door.

“Do you need to be alone for a moment? Or do you need me with you?”

Logan looks at the door. His hands shake again. Virgil sees them twitch toward his legs. Then he looks at Virgil and oh, okay, no, Virgil’s definitely coming inside.

“Come on,” he says, guiding hand still on Logan’s shoulder, “just through here, okay? I’m gonna get you a glass of water.”

Logan looks small, Virgil decides he doesn’t like that. He presses a glass of water gently into Logan’s hands, watches as he drinks the whole thing without complaint, and then carefully sets one of Logan’s fluffier pillows into his lap for Logan to hang onto.

“Do you want to sit here for a moment?”

Logan nods, then buries his face in the pillow and breathes. Virgil closes his eyes and starts to breathe too, keeping it slow and steady as he breathes in, then out, then in, then out. When Logan’s breathing starts to hitch, he opens his eyes and scoots a little closer, wordlessly offering a shoulder. Logan takes it after a moment, his face still buried in the pillow even as his head comes to rest on Virgil’s shoulder.

“Let it out, bud,” Virgil murmurs into the crown of Logan’s head, “don’t try and keep any of that shit in you. It’s just me.”

Watching Logan cry isn’t fun. He doesn’t recommend it. But it’s much, much better than the alternative.

“Hey,” he calls again, a fresh glass of water in his hand, “drink, bud, it’ll help.”

Logan drinks, a little slower this time, as Virgil settles back on the bed, one leg folded under him.

“Do you want to talk about it? Or do you want me to distract you?”

Logan shakes his head. “I…do not think distraction would be helpful.”

“Okay. Do you want me to give you the logical reason why this is fine, or the emotional one where I tell you how much we care?”

Logan sniffles.

“Both it is, then.” Virgil scoots closer, ready if Logan needs to lean against him again. “Despite the fact that your role is Logic, no one expects you to be entirely logical. You are a person, you have feelings and emotions, and they are as much a part of you as Logic is. Trying to deny that isn’t logical, nor productive. The reason you are who you are is equally due to both of those things.”

He softens his voice as Logan leans toward him again, smiling at how shamelessly Logan is asking to be comforted.

“And that’s why we care about you,” he mumbles, ignoring the heat rushing to his own face, “because you’re you. You’re…prissy and stuck-up and a know-it-all and it’s perfect, L. You’re our braincell and you’re fucking ours. You’re—you’re not going anywhere.”

Logan’s arms still grip the pillow tightly even as his head nudges its way under Virgil’s chin. Virgil smiles and lets him, only realizing he’s absentmindedly nuzzling Logan’s hair after a minute.

The others will be fine. Logan just needs a moment to check out.

Roman, on the other hand, fucking sucks at letting himself ask.

And yeah, Virgil’s not too proud to admit he still feels sick at how much he’s fucked that up for him. But he’ll be damned if he doesn’t try and fix that now.

Princey’s gig as Creativity isn’t misplaced; Virgil’s equal parts impressed and dismayed at how well Roman’s managed to get himself what he needs without directly asking for it, be it a favor, a piece of feedback, or a conversation.

The one thing he can’t do that with is touch.

Roman needs physical contact like he needs water. He may run hotter than a goddamn furnace but he somehow manages to look cold. Watching him sit himself apart from everyone else hurts now, especially when Janus comes and confesses that he can hear how much Roman tries to insist that he doesn’t need affection from the others.

So, they built a system. Some with Roman’s knowledge, some without. Roman goes to them for comfort when he needs it, but sometimes, when he really needs it, it’s up to them to figure out just how much.

Remus knows his job when it comes to this. His brother is Roman and you don’t get to be a Dark Side without Janus as a dramatic caveat. He’s well-versed in blackmailing self-sacrificing idiots into taking care of themselves.

Remus finds Roman when Roman’s sitting alone, off to the side, staring out into the expanse of the Imagination. He sits down, brushes their shoulders together, and frowns when Roman apologizes and shifts further away.

That’s the first indication.

He suggests they go bother Patton, or sneak out to the field and practice cliff jumping. If Roman’s alright, he’ll roll his eyes and propose an alternative, or agree and they’ll scamper off. But instead, he smiles softly and says no thank-you, politely inviting Remus to stay if he likes, but he’d rather not move.

That’s the second indication.

The third one comes when Remus carefully—really carefully—prods at Roman to see how obvious Roman’s dazed state is. He’s barely there.

Time for reinforcements.

Who gets called depends on who’s around. Since Remus is usually the first one in the chain—although that responsibility does get bounced around—everyone else’s schedules make absolute consistency difficult.

Today, it’s Janus.

He sits on Roman’s other side, pressing their shoulders together. If he’s alright, he’ll lean into him, or at the very least, tolerate it. His presence is strong, enough to coax down his shields and that’ll be the end of it. But today, he scoots away from him too, another apology on his lips.

They exchange a look over Roman’s head.

No one banters quite like Remus and Janus, and sometimes that’s all it takes to pull him out of his head. Sometimes it’s an offer to go flounce around an abandoned castle, and there’s a small smile on his face as they leave.

Not today.

As a last resort, Janus reaches out and gently calls to him.

“My prince, are you alright?”

Sometimes it’s enough.

Not today.

“Alright,” Remus declares, getting up and clapping his hands, “time to pull out the big guns.”

Sometimes he’ll get up and walk with them, sometimes he won’t. He has carried him through the Mindscape before, but it was only once. And that was when he couldn’t actually move and they’d had a murmured conversation where he gave him permission to.

Today he gets up and follows them, confused as to what’s going on. They march him straight to a door and Remus knocks on it.

“Roman’s upset,” he says as soon as the door opens.

Virgil smiles and steps aside, letting him come in. Sometimes it’s a waiting game, sometimes Remus pushes him inside. But today, Roman bows his head and walks inside, letting Virgil close the door behind him.

Sometimes it’s a protest. Sometimes it’s a: ‘this really isn’t necessary,’ or a ‘do we have to do this?’ When that happens he indulges Roman, meets every quip with one of his own until he can knock Roman off-balance with well-placed sincerity and use his distraction to steer him to the bed.

Sometimes it’s an apology. It’s an: ‘I’m sure you’ve got other things to do, I can just go,’ and he shakes his head, tells Roman he’s more than happy to spend time with him. That no, he’s not being rude, that he all but asked for Roman to come. When that happens, he normally clams up, stays quiet, until he relents and gathers Roman up into a cuddle by the door.

Sometimes it’s silence. It’s a bowed head, curled up like a frightened animal, braced for punishment. It’s the moments where the gap between Light and Dark feels uncrossable. It’s the moments where the anger is disappointment, where the frustration is indifference, until he speaks first and murmurs that no, Roman’s not in trouble, he’s not here to lecture him, he’s hurt and he wants to help, as he takes Roman into his arms.

Every time it’s a fight.

It’s knowing that he can’t win because of course, he can’t win but this isn’t something he’s supposed to win but he can’t show weakness but he won’t have a choice because it’s the slow, patient kill that speaks of nothing but kindness and care but Virgil has enough to worry about and he doesn’t get to dump all of his problems on Virgil but he knows he wouldn’t do this if he didn’t care but he cares about everyone and Roman isn’t special but he knows that doesn’t matter and he needs this but it makes him want to rip all of his skin off and start over but then he’d get blood on his carpet and that wouldn’t be very polite either—

Virgil guides him to the couch with a hand on his back, sitting him down and bringing two cups of tea to the table. He cups Roman’s hand around one to gauge how warm it is and if his fingers grow too red, he sets it aside. He sits next to him and carefully reaches out.

Here she is, sitting right next to him, and yet he’s almost nowhere to be found.

He needs to relearn how to ask for comfort, for reassurance, for what he needs, but the wait hurts them both.

I’m trying, I’m trying, I promise, I’m sorry—

It’s alright, I’m right here, just ask, that’s all.

When he finally reaches out, Virgil snaps and bundles Roman into his arms. He tucks Roman up against his chest, letting him wind his arms as tightly as he needs to, guiding one leg, then the other, over his. Roman lets out a little whine as he tucks his face into the crook of his neck. He cards his fingers through Roman's hair and smiles as the poor prince melts into his arms.

The familiar protective instinct swells up and Virgil finds himself wanting very much to wrap him up in his hoodie and keep him safe from the universe.

He keeps his breathing even, hoping his heart doesn’t begin to race from the need to protect the Roman. This is for Roman, this is what he needs, to chase away the worries of the world and be safe.

Sometimes they fall asleep like that. Sometimes Roman needs to cry and he hushes him tenderly. Sometimes he seems convinced that if either of them lets go they’ll fly apart.

It doesn’t matter.

If he feels the safest with Virgil’s arms around him, his head on his chest, his heartbeat in his ear, the world could be on fire and he would not leave his side.

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#dragonbabbles #fic #sanders sides #virgil sanders #roman sanders #roman angst #logan sanders #logan angst #janus sanders #deceit sanders #sympathetic deceit #remus sanders #sympathetic remus #patton sanders

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utilitycaster · 4 years

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Skill Proficiencies are the Bedrock on Which the Success of a D&D Party Rests, Monks are a Utility Class, and Other Correct Opinions

This came up when I was thinking about the Cobalt Soul subclass and the discussion thereof, especially the dismissive way in which people sometimes treat the mystical erudition feature. I am also a bard player, in my longest-running game, and I prefer utility classes in general, so I decided to write a whole essay that maybe like 5 people will appreciate, two of whom are in my inbox (thanks for the encouragement, @ayzenigma and @agigabyte and one of whom is me.

In D&D, on a fundamental level, this is what happens:

A DM describes the world

You decide to interact with the world in some way

The DM decides if you automatically can do what you want, if you automatically can’t do what you want, or if there are a range of possible outcomes. If the last option, roll a d20.

The DM narrates what happens when you act or fail to act, ie, describes the new state of the world; the cycle begins anew.

The vast majority of those d20 rolls will be skill checks. Some will be combat rolls, which are a whole other thing, but most will be skill checks. Some will be incredibly important skill checks. Some will be relatively minor. Sometimes you’ll be aware of how important the roll is; sometimes you will not. Spells can sometimes guarantee or improve the chances of a success, as can some class abilities; but those are finite resources, and in the end a lot of D&D is resource management, and many of the choices you make in interaction are going to be influenced by what resources you have left.

Consider: the party comes upon a door with a single lock. The party is D&D four-person-party classic: a mage archetype, a thief archetype, a healer archetype, and a strength-based battler archetype.

The mage can cast knock to open the door. This does guarantee success, but it’s extremely loud and will not only alert anyone nearby but also uses a second level spell slot. They may be able to get around this if they or the healer also casts silence, depending on how you play it*, but that’s either another spell slot gone, or ten minutes wasted.

The battler can, for free, either kick down the door or attack it. This is also going to be very loud unless silence is employed, they might choose to use a finite resource (a once a day weapon ability, a rage) and even if this itself doesn’t alert anyone on its own, the big hole where a door should have been, or even the smashed keyhole, probably will.

The thief can, for free, pick the lock. Assuming they are specifically a rogue, because of their class build there is a very high chance of success, and specifically a high chance of quick, quiet, secret success even without additional help. And if they fail, well, the other options still exist and only a small amount of time has been lost.

Things like a single rage, or a second level spell slot, don’t seem like much on their own, but that is the other thing about D&D: usually you go to bed with some things left in the tank, but occasionally you do not, and as the resources get into the red line it is not terribly difficult to get into a death spiral of throwing your limited resources at a problem too large to be solved by them. When you’re in a game where, mechanically, there is no difference between having 100 hit points left and having 1 hit point left, but there is a vast chasm between having 1 left and having none, that extra second level slot worth of healing or damage can mean everything.

Or: at levels 5 through 8, with a cleric, the difference between an ally’s life and potentially permanent death is whether the cleric is left standing with one third level spell slot at the end of a battle.

This isn’t to say you shouldn’t use spell slots to achieve things, especially if they’re important; just that there’s a balance, and sometimes a single good thieves’ tools check, investigation check, or persuasion check makes just as much of a difference in terms of the party’s success as a high level spell, even though it’s far less flashy.

The game designers realize this. Older versions had the idea of taking ten: if time is not of the essence and there is no significant penalty for failure, you could take ten and guarantee an average job (which does still require some skill proficiency to take that assumed roll of ten to “pretty good”). This still remains in 5e in the form of passive checks. It’s a core element of the rogue and bard classes that they are people who are highly skilled - both have more skills than most classes and access to expertise, which significantly increases their proficiency bonuses and therefore reduces the chance of failure - and both have additional class features that either improve the breadth (jack of all trades for bards granting them partial proficiency in everything) or depth (reliable talent for rogues granting them a guaranteed average job) of those skills. Frequently, and especially for bards, this is not seen as a significant help, possibly because it rarely comes up in combat. This is wrong.

Here’s the thing: combat takes a long time at the table but in terms of what the party is doing, two minutes of combat a day (20 rounds, total) would be considered an incredibly difficult day. The rest of the time, you’re not in combat.

Here’s the other thing: how did that combat happen? Did it happen because someone failed a check - that a better stealth roll or deception check, perhaps made by someone with expertise in one of those two areas, could have prevented? Or if this conflict was inevitable or necessary, was the party able to use that stealth or deception to get a surprise round? Investigation, nature, arcana, or history to know a little bit more in advance about what they’re about to face? Perception or survival to even find the enemy they need to stop? Persuasion to gain an ally? All of these can make the difference between a success and a failure.

When you come to the end of a long-running D&D game, you will probably think back a lot to combat moments and RP moments, and unless it was one of those few clutch ability checks where you knew how momentous it was at the time you probably won’t think back to the dozens of locks picked without issue, or social encounters navigated with relative ease, but they’re going to be there, and you would have felt the strain without them.

This isn’t limited to skill checks, honestly; it’s a problem with almost all so-called fluff/flavor abilities. It’s interesting, in that the words we use to describe a well-built character are themselves quite neutral in terms of the specific build (min-maxed, optimized) but in practice many people assume these fit into one of two categories: the tank, or the glass cannon. Of course, those are combat-specific abilities, and see above with regards to combat. And maybe you are in a D&D game that is very much about combat and combat only, but if you’re not, that so-called fluff is far too dismissive of utility.

And monks, in particular, are more of a utility class than one would expect. Sure, they get a lot of attacks and they’re sort of tanks of the ‘too fast to hit’ variety and they can stun, but monks are utility in a negative-space sort of way.They don’t need your buffs, and a monk in your party, like a rogue who can pick locks or a bard who can talk their way out of trouble, saves your resources. They are incredibly fast, and don’t need longstrider or jump cast on them. They don’t need feather fall or fly because they run up walls and avoid falling damage. They don’t need to be healed, if they just catch the arrows that were shot and evade the area of effect spell; they don’t need a magic weapon (or any weapon); they don’t need a restoration to end effects, they don’t need protection from poison or disease, they save you the need to cast comprehend languages or tongues, they’re less likely to need a buff to help them save against other effects, eventually they don’t even need food or water. A monk, like a skill check, helps the party by saving finite resources. The Cobalt Soul build merely makes it a little more literal by granting the monk themselves the ability to make those skill checks.

In conclusion: skill checks are cantrips that everyone gets, and if a class got 8 cantrips when most others got 4, and they had an extra bonus to hit, you’d absolutely notice.

*per a quick search it’s up for debate based on the ranges of the respective spells and whether the lock needs to ‘hear’ the spell or not and anyway if this is what you choose to fixate on in this essay I cannot stress this enough: you have the reading comprehension of a slime mold and the sense of relevance of a Republican congressperson.

#i play a character with 11 skill proficiencies/expertises and yes it's as great as that sounds.#d&d #dungeons & dragons #way of the cobalt soul #no readmore we die like a party that doesn't utilize skill checks effectively

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archerdaryl · 4 years

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Oblivious.

Daryl gets it into his head that the girl he’s infatuated with doesn’t like him one bit. What he fails to remember is that when it comes to people, she’s about as oblivious as he is.

Pairing: Daryl Dixon x Reader Tags: moody?? angsty?? idiot meets bigger idiot | @madshelily Word Count: 2.7k (approximately) Notes: Request by @petrified-teeth ♥ This is my first time trying something angsty since getting back into writing -- I’d love to hear what people think!

Whispers echoed through the canteen hall as Daryl lumbered through, his crossbow bloody and slung over his shoulder. There was a particularly scathing scowl painted across his grizzly features, one that unfortunately wasn’t the result of a hard day’s work outside the prison walls, and people were quick to move or look away as he grumpily made his way through the building.

To say it had been a long week was an understatement, but he was used to getting his hands dirty. He didn’t mind the aching muscles or the sweat that came with working under the scorching Georgia sun. If anything, he was happiest when he was put to work. He felt useful, like he was needed, which was something he hadn’t ever felt much of in his life.

No, that wasn’t what had been bothering him at all. Not even close.

When Daryl eventually reached his cell, he threw down his crossbow before collapsing onto his bunk. He adjusted his pillow so that he could sit up a little against the wall, eventually settling into the thin mattress with a long, heavy exhale. He was glad to finally be alone, but he still had to simmer in his thoughts which were only getting louder.

Why hadn’t you talked to him this week? Shit, you’d barely even looked at him.

None of it made sense.

From the very first moment that you arrived at the prison, something about you set the archer on edge. You had been on your own, somehow surviving against the world and all its horrors for God knows how long, and yet you hadn’t turned to stone. You were everything he wasn’t in many ways. Unabashedly emotional and full of faith despite it all even though he knew you had experienced some of the worst things a person could.

He didn’t understand it. He didn’t understand you, but that didn’t matter. He just wanted to make sure nothing ever smacked that smile off your face again.

Daryl’s stomach stirred. His own features softened at the mere thought of your smile, which only made him forcibly frown again. What the fuck was his problem? He had to be overthinking this. Maybe he was just tired, but that couldn’t be it.

You hadn’t spoken to him all week.

It was driving him insane.

Looking back, he really wasn’t sure when his feelings for you snuck up on him. He could only pinpoint the moment he realised it for himself that he liked you at all. You had gotten separated from the group on a run, took it upon yourself to divert a small herd away from everyone. You ended up bloody and bruised. Damn well nearly got yourself bit, but you still giggled and told him he worried too much.

It took almost losing you to realise you had chiselled away at the walls he built around himself. You’d made a little home for yourself in his heart and the idea of you turning on him now was making him spiral.

Daryl shifted in his bunk and began to absentmindedly pick at the skin around his fingernails. One soon started to bleed, but he was too lost in thought to notice.

There was no fucking way you felt the same as he did. How could a girl like you possibly want a guy like him? You personified sunshine and he was a weed that had absolutely no business taking up your time and energy.

God, if his brother could see him now. He was pathetic. Merle would tell him just that, laughing in his face and reminding him that he told him so, that no one would ever care about his baby brother Daryl but him.

And the worst thing was that he could live with that. He could live with you not wanting to be with him. It kept him awake at night and gnawed away at whatever little sense of self he had left but as long as you liked him just a little bit and wanted him around he could live with it.

So why the fuck weren’t you talking to him?

Daryl started to retrace his steps, trying to figure out if he had done something wrong. He knew he could be blunt, often rude at times, but he meant well. Maybe meaning well wasn’t enough. Maybe he just had to suck it up and apologise and hope it was enough despite not having a damn clue what he had done wrong.

But maybe that was just it. Maybe he hadn’t done anything at all. Maybe there was something wrong with him.

He was breathing heavily now, eyes squeezed shut and anger building further in his chest. He couldn’t fix this. He wanted to but he couldn’t. The echoes of Merle’s laughter haunted him. He’d been thrown away like he’d been countless times before and he only had himself to blame.

“Hey Da-” A familiar voice interrupted him, quickly sounding concerned, “What’s going on?”

Daryl’s eyes shot open, scowling at the figure who had approached his cell. It was just Rick, but he didn’t want to talk to Rick right now. He didn’t want to talk to anyone.

“Nothin’.” He spat angrily, “Get lost.”

Rick sighed and stepped into Daryl’s cell, drawing the thin curtain behind him to try and give Daryl the illusion of privacy.

“Daryl you can’t keep storming around the prison like this. People are uncomfortable.” He paused, lowering his gaze to shake his head before looking at his friend with sympathetic eyes, “Now what is it? Is it her?”

The archer blinked up at him, unable to respond.

“You think I ain’t noticed?” Rick chuckled, “Like a dog to a bone whenever she’s around.”

“Well she ain’t around. She ain’t fuckin’ talkin’ to me.”

Daryl sat up from his bunk and threw his legs over the side, leaning onto them with his elbows. He couldn’t deny it even if he wanted to. He may not have said anything, but Daryl had a language of his own only those closest to him could understand. Rick was one of those people.

“She’s been bouncin’ around all week helpin’ out with the library. Have you talked to her?”

Again, Daryl was stuck for words. He was starting to feel stupid.

“Why don’t you just tell her man?”

“Tell her what?” He snarled back, now massaging his fists as if he were in pain.

He couldn’t fathom trying to tell you how he really felt. How could he? He was no good. He never understood why you insisted on talking to him in the first place, he was just glad you did. Every moment he got to spend with you made him want to make the world a better place for you to be in so that faith of yours never betrayed you again.

“C’mon now. You can lie to everyone else but I’ve seen the way you look at her.”

Daryl shot Rick another scowl but didn’t bother trying to tell him otherwise.

“You talk too damn much.”

“She won’t figure it out for herself, man. D’ya think if she could take a hint you’d be sulkin’ like this right now?”

Dary’s brows knitted together and a sigh of defeat drew slowly from his lips. Rick had a point whether he liked it or not. You weren’t exactly… the most cognizant person when it came to others. You did good and hoped people were good to you in return, but unless someone spelled out their intentions or desires for you, you were left with simply navigating the waters the best you could.

That was why you got on so well with Michonne. There was no bullshit with her. She told you what she thought, what she wanted, or where to go if you were pissing her off. You were better off for it, never having to second guess yourself, but not everyone was like that.

Daryl certainly wasn’t. Did you have any idea where you stood with him at all? Did you see him like you saw everyone else? He swallowed hard.

“Rick?” A voice then called out, “Are you down here?”

“In here!”

Footsteps approached Daryl’s cell and the curtain was pulled open, “Maggie wants you. Something about the library? She should be still in there.”

Daryl glanced up at the new arrival who met his crystalline gaze with a sweet smile.

It was you.

His mouth suddenly felt incredibly dry.

Rick turned to Daryl and cocked a brow suggestively before making his departure. Daryl wanted to shove the smug bastard against a wall, but he stayed silent, clearing his throat and waiting for you to follow Rick without bothering to say another word.

Instead, you stayed and perched yourself on the edge of his squeaky metal desk which was covered in borrowed books and makeshift arrows. He silently cursed himself for not thinking to tidy up a little, especially with the pile of dirty clothes he kept forgetting about building up in the corner of his cell.

“You charged right past me in the canteen earlier.” You finally said, voice gentle but steady, “Did something happen out there?”

“Naw.” He responded bluntly, “Just been a long week.”

“Oh.” You paused, unsure of how to proceed, “Do you want me to go?”

He was a difficult man to read, but you felt you knew him well enough by now to know that he often just wanted to be on his own. He wasn’t a talker. He was introspective and quiet, never wanted to bother anyone with anything if he didn’t have to, but over the last few months he seemed to have grown to like having you around. He tolerated you at the very least you thought, because he stopped ignoring you and started to speak in (almost) complete sentences.

Still, something was nagging at you. You weren’t sure what, but in your experience it was best to come right out with it otherwise you’d be stuck in limbo forever.

“Have I done -”

Daryl looked down at his hands, “Ain’t seen you all week.”

A frown pulled at your features. Had it really been that long? You weren’t even sure what day it was. Maggie had you running around all week trying to get this library in order for the kids and you had never been particularly good at juggling a million things at once.

Pushing yourself up off the desk, you approached the bunk and nudged his feet with your shoe in a silent request for him to shuffle over. He obliged and you took a seat next to him.

“I’m sorry.” You mumbled, “I’ve been so caught up in the library I didn’t even realise I hadn’t spoken much to anyone.”

Silence followed. Daryl was chewing the inside of his lip to keep himself from running, unable to meet your eyes that were fixated on him with such care and curiosity. He’d never felt so fuckin’ stupid.

“Funny.” You continued, “I wouldn’t have thought you cared.”

“What?”

“I don’t know where I stand with you at all, truthfully.”

This girl had to be joking. From an outside perspective, it likely made perfect sense, but he thought about you all the damn time. He wanted to know if you slept well, how your day went, wanted to know the little stories behind the things you did and why you never seemed to give up on anybody or anything.

He felt like a damn school girl. He liked you so much that he could have laughed at the idea of you not thinking he liked you at all.

“I mean, I hope you like me. I pretend you do and keep buggin’ you anyways, but I don’t know that you do.”

“Of course I like ya.” He finally met your gaze, “Never gave me a choice.”

You studied his face. Sure, he was rough around the edges, but there was also a tenderness to him that made you feel safe. An appreciative grin tugged at your lips, relieved that you hadn’t been making a fool of yourself this entire time.

“Don’ think I could hate ya’ if I tried.”

“That’s high praise coming from you. Might start getting the wrong idea.”

Daryl forced himself to snort in response as if he found the notion of being interested in you like that funny, though it came out half-heartedly. He didn’t really think it was funny at all.

“Though,” You teased him further, “Worse things have happened.”

Weaving an arm through his, you took it upon yourself to rest your head against his shoulder. You didn’t care that he was grubby. You had nothing to lose anymore. He just said he couldn’t hate you, which honestly made you feel a little giddy inside. You’d have to bug him more often.

Daryl, on the other hand, thought he had lost the ability to breathe. He turned his head slightly, taking in the unmistakable scent of peaches and vanilla. How was it you could smell that good during the Goddamn apocalypse? Not to mention your hands, almost disgustingly soft compared to his. Except, it wasn’t disgusting at all. You were a fleece blanket and he wanted nothing more than to be engulfed by you.

“Sorry about lunch.” He mumbled quietly into your hair. You hummed happily, not at all bothered by his previous outburst in the canteen before he continued, “Could get dinner?”

“Sure. I gotta talk to Rick about the run tomorrow anyways.”

Daryl frowned. He was going to have to try and spell it out for her. Fuckin’ Rick and his meddling.

“Naw I meant,” He hesitated for a moment and swallowed hard, “I meant just the two of us. If ya’ want.”

You glanced up from his shoulder, eyes beautiful and wide. This was one of those times you didn’t know what to think -- especially in regards to him -- but your first instinct was to nod, so you did. You nodded and searched his gentle gaze for some sort of sign, something that told you what he was thinking, whether he just wanted to make up for lost time or whether he was actually… nah.

He couldn’t be.

And he could see that confusion painted across your face. Goddamn it. Just getting his words out at all was like trying to get blood out of a stone. It’s a date. That’s all he had to say, but it sounded so childish. The fuck did he look like asking out a girl on a date with the world gone to shit? He could hear his heart beating in his ears

“Damn it,” He grunted, that Southern drawl of his getting thicker the more impatient he got. He exhaled heavily through his nose and tried not to roll his eyes, “I’m asking you out.”

“Oh.” Was all you could respond, soft and surprised.

Ten minutes ago you weren’t even sure he liked you at all. That giddy feeling in your stomach grew stronger and you tried to stop yourself from beaming.

“I can still say yes, right?”

Daryl shrugged you off of him, “You drive me nuts, you know tha’?”

“Alright, shit, I won’t come.”

“You’re coming, alrigh’? Now get outa here before Maggie bites my head off.”

Rolling your eyes, you stood up and stepped towards the gateway. Daryl watched you, his own gaze drifting from your hair to your waist and up again. That agonising ache in the pit of his stomach was finally starting to subside, though it was being replaced by something entirely different. He sucked in his bottom lip nervously as your hips swayed away from him.

You only took a couple of steps out of his cell when you stopped in your tracks, turning half-way to glance at him with that sunshine smile spreading across your face.

Daryl finally smiled back, shy and sweet and more than ready to smack Rick upside the head.

#the walking dead #twd #the walking dead fanfiction #the walking dead fanfic #daryl dixon #norman reedus #daryl dixon fanfic #daryl dixon fanfiction #daryl dixon x reader #daryl dixon fic #daryl dixon imagine #daryl dixon oneshot #norman reedus fanfiction #norman reedus fanfic #twd fanfic #twd fanfiction #mine

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richincolor · 3 years

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*As is usual with our discussions, there may be a few spoilers ahead, so beware.*

We all were incredibly excited to read Angeline Boulley's FIREKEEPER'S DAUGHTER when we first heard about it, so we decided to make it our second group discussion book for the year. Come join us!

As a biracial, unenrolled tribal member and the product of a scandal, eighteen-year-old Daunis Fontaine has never quite fit in, both in her hometown and on the nearby Ojibwe reservation. Daunis dreams of studying medicine, but when her family is struck by tragedy, she puts her future on hold to care for her fragile mother.

The only bright spot is meeting Jamie, the charming new recruit on her brother Levi’s hockey team. Yet even as Daunis falls for Jamie, certain details don’t add up and she senses the dashing hockey star is hiding something. Everything comes to light when Daunis witnesses a shocking murder, thrusting her into the heart of a criminal investigation.

Reluctantly, Daunis agrees to go undercover, but secretly pursues her own investigation, tracking down the criminals with her knowledge of chemistry and traditional medicine. But the deceptions—and deaths—keep piling up and soon the threat strikes too close to home.

Now, Daunis must learn what it means to be a strong Anishinaabe kwe (Ojibwe woman) and how far she'll go to protect her community, even if it tears apart the only world she’s ever known.

[Note: While we will not go into any great detail in this discussion, Firekeeper’s Daughter contains murder, suicide, kidnapping, sexual assault, addiction and drug use, racism, colorism, and death of parents/family members.

You can read an excerpt of the book here!]

Audrey: To get us started--let’s talk about this gorgeous cover! The cover art was created by Moses Lunham and designed by Rich Deas. The first thing I noticed when I got my copy of the book was that the two faces at the top had different skin tones. According to this interview, author Angeline Boulley says that “the different shades of the faces symbolizes Daunis claiming her biracial identity,” which is a major part of the book.

Jessica: The cover is so beautiful. It’s next to me on my desk right now and I can’t stop looking at it. Love how the cover ties into the themes of the book.

K. Imani: This cover is absolutely beautiful! I love the design of the faces looking like a butterfly as well as the bird and bear (I think) and the fire. There are so many subtle images in this cover that you can almost find something new each time. And the colors are so stunning. Like you Audrey, I noticed the faces had different skin tones which I found interesting and made me wonder what was going to happen in the book. Knowing the faces symbolize Daunis’s biracial identity now is powerful and really brings home the meaning of the book.

Crystal: I agree that the cover is gorgeous. In addition to the aspects of her physical appearance and physical identity, Daunis’ cultural identity is also displayed within the illustrations with bears representing her clan. In addition there are the birds like the one that guides her and the sun is in the background too which is from the story of the original Fire Keeper’s Daughter. The faces forming a butterfly is also just brilliant for a coming-of-age story. There’s so much to see. Each time I notice more.

Audrey: Daunis, our heroine, is on the older end of the YA protagonist spectrum at 18. She’s dealing with a lot of upheaval in her life, and things only get more complicated in short order. Something I really liked about Daunis was how often she thought about and evaluated what her responsibilities were--to her family, to her friends, to her community, and to herself. These sometimes complementary, sometimes competing, responsibilities strongly influenced her decisions.

Jessica: You mention the complementary and sometimes competing responsibilities -- that’s exactly it. I loved how her thought process was explored throughout the book in such a thorough and complex way. The way Daunis balances and reconciles the interests of her community with what the FBI wants from her and her quest for justice is laid out really clearly. Sometimes, narratives can tend toward simplistic, binary summations of the issues people, especially from marginalized communities, face -- but that’s just not the case, and Daunis really highlights that. To be honest, I was a little nervous at the introduction of law enforcement and the FBI, given the racism and oppression baked into these institutions, but the way Daunis navigates her interactions with them, plus the way other members of the community tell the truth about these institutions, really played out in such a nuanced way. (I really, really hope that the Netflix adaptation keeps these nuances and hard truths in the show, but I suspect that won’t be the case, unfortunately.)

K. Imani: I enjoyed that Daunis was 18 and on the cusp of adulthood. So many YA novels focus on the character’s high school life but a lot does happen and teens do grow and change a lot in that year after high school. Many have left home for college (that was me) or working full time and they are learning how to navigate a life that was not completely so structured. In addition to having to deal with changing friendships as people move away or just become busy. It’s a unique time and I loved that we got to spend time with Daunis as she was going through this change. She was learning how to become an adult in one of the most stressful ways possible, and sometimes I felt she was a little too idealistic, but I’m glad that she kept her truth throughout and was focused on helping her community in addition to helping the FBI. Her perspective helped keep the investigation grounded in what mattered which wouldn’t have happened if she wasn’t involved.

Crystal: Daunis balances a lot of responsibilities and really tries to follow what she’s learned from elders. She considers how her actions may affect all of her relatives within her family, clan, community, and beyond. Boulley embedded a lot of elder wisdom within Daunis’ inner dialogue such as thinking about the seventh generation when making decisions.

Audrey: One of the things that I really appreciated about Firekeeper’s Daughter was the depth of the setting and the characters in it. While Boulley says that Daunis’s tribe is fictionalized in the author note, it’s clear how much care and thought Boulley put into creating Daunis’s community. It’s filled with people who have complex histories (both within and between Native and non-Native groups), with differing opinions and prejudices and goals.

Jessica: This really highlights how important it is to have stories where cultures and communities aren’t portrayed as a monolith. It’s not just the right thing to do, it makes for a better and more accurate story. I read Firekeeper’s Daughter and watched the TV show Rutherford Falls back to back, which really drove home the power of depicting a community with nuance. (Also, sidebar: Highly recommend checking out Rutherford Falls, which does this really well.)

K. Imani: One of my favorite aspects of Firekeeper’s Daughter were the elders in Daunis’s tribe and how we got to hear many of their individual stories which showed the complexity of real life. I loved that Daunis listened to her elders, really took in their stories and learned from them. Her interactions with the elders greatly contributed to her growing sense of self and her desire to help her community. And this is where this novel being truly #ownvoices shines because of Boulley’s connection to her community that she took great care in making sure Daunis’s tribe felt real and authentic as well as culturally accurate. It was not full of stereotypes but filled with real people who had real lives and real stories. I was drawn into Daunis’s community and really cared about the people that made Daunis who she is and becomes.

Crystal: Like Jessica says, there is a lot of nuance here. When you have a wide variety of characters who are not simply good or bad, the story has more power and is definitely more believable. The people in our everyday lives are also complex and have a story if only we take the time to listen. This is what Daunis excels at with elders and others around her. She is paying attention and trying to connect with people. There is a lot of love throughout the book of many different types. The love is beautiful and yet also has some ugliness too in the betrayals. It’s not picture perfect and that makes it so much more real.

Audrey: Boulley tackles a lot of difficult topics in Firekeeper’s Daughter, especially ones that can hit hard on a community level. Much of the plot focuses on drug use and addiction, of course, but violence against Native women also has a significant impact on what happens in the book and affects multiple characters, including Daunis.

Crystal: Daunis and the other women are examples of the many, many, women who have been harmed in the past and the present. That’s not the whole story though. As Daunis is learning, there are many ways of being brave. Throughout the story, we see many women being strong and brave though at initial glance their actions may not seem to be either of those things. There is bravery in speaking out, but sometimes bravery requires something else. These women have done what they needed to do to survive or help their loved ones survive.

Audrey: Firekeeper’s Daughter has a complicated ending, and it left me thinking about two things. The first was how proud I was of Daunis and her character growth. There were a couple of times where she came across as very Not Like Other Girls (particularly with the hockey players’ girlfriends), but that changed over the course of the book. The second was grief at how many people and institutions failed Daunis and her community, both within and without. Just as one example, even though Daunis is a confidential informant for the FBI, the FBI doesn’t come out of this story as a Good Guy.

K. Imani: I was torn by the ending too. I so wanted justice for Daunis and Lily and for others who were murdered, but on the other hand life doesn’t always have a happy ending and I recognize that Boulley gave us that horribly realistic ending because the fight for missing and murdered Indigenous women continues and the fight for justice for Indigenous peoples. It was a heartbreaking reminder of a very real issue. On the other hand, I was so proud of Daunis as well. She was able to achieve her goals of helping out the FBI while staying true to herself and her community. She grew so much as a character and really found her place in her world.

Crystal: The ending gave me much to think about too. Daunis grew a lot as she worked through this complicated puzzle in her community. She learned much about herself and some of the assumptions folks have about others. I also really, really wanted justice, but unfortunately, would be unlikely in real life with our current justice system. I also found Jamie’s growth to be interesting. He is truly struggling with his own identity as an adopted child with Cherokee roots, but no Cherokee teachings or culture to turn to. I don’t know if a sequel or companion book is planned, but I would be interested in seeing more of their journeys whether their paths cross again or not.

Jessica: Audrey, thanks so much for leading this discussion! Now I have a question for you all -- what YA books by/about BIPOC are you reading right now?

For AAPI month, I’m rereading Turtle Under Ice by Juleah del Rosario. After that, I’m planning on reading The Ones We're Meant to Find by Joan He, Apple: Skin to the Core by Eric Gansworth, and Witches Steeped in Gold by Ciannon Smart! Yes, my TBR pile is excellent. :P

Audrey: Next up on my list are The Theft of Sunlight by Intisar Khanani, Forest of Stolen Girls by June Hur, and Simone Breaks All the Rules by Debbie Rigaud. I feel like that’s a pretty good mix of genres and authors right there!

K. Imani: Since I’m needing some inspiration for my vampire manuscript, I’m re-reading and new reading some vampire novels. Currently I am reading Fledgling by Octavia Butler then up next is Renee Ahdieh’s series The Beautiful and the sequel The Damned.

Crystal: I just re-read Saints & Misfits and then dove into the sequel Misfit in Love. S.K. Ali is an author that I really enjoy and I am loving it so far. Next up is American Betiya by Anuradha D. Rajurkar along with Love & Other Natural Disasters by Misa Sugiura. I also think my TBR is pretty stellar.

If you've had the chance to read FIREKEEPER'S DAUGHTER, please join in the discussion below! We'd love to hear what you think.

#firekeeper's daughter #weneeddiversebooks #group discussion #contemporary #thriller

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ancient-day · 4 years

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On the Third Semester and PT Awareness

Over the year, I’ve seen various interpretations concerning the third semester and how “guilty” the Phantom Thieves are in falling prey to Maruki’s reality, and I wanted to throw out my own take and observation on the group. And this observation is based under the assumption that Akira has reached Confidant Rank 10 with every single party member, including Akechi and Sumire.

This isn’t to argue with anyone, and I’m not looking to make any sort of “I’m right; therefore, you’re wrong if you don’t agree” arguments here because at the end of the day, responses to media will always vary, and these characters are all human enough to have a multitude of interpretations. That does not make them badly written, it simply means that we as the audience may have different understandings based on our own personal experiences that impact how we view the characters.

With all that being said, I’ll get right into it. Do I think the PT were “bad friends” to Akira in the third semester? Short answer: It’s complicated, and different friends fulfill different needs. Long answer, below.

Starting with Akechi.

I’m gonna get this out of the way, but worry not, this isn’t an elaborate excuse to gush about their bond even if they’re my favorite characters. Bias aside, Akira and Akechi have a solid bond where they’ve finally come to rely on each other, and we finally get to see that come into play in this final arc of the game.

In Rank 8, Akechi expresses admiration for Akira’s strength and admits that he’d be relying on him in a pinch.

And this is exactly what he does when he seeks out Akira as soon as he’s let out of police custody. He notices things are odd and immediately goes to the person he knows he can rely on so that they can figure it out together. It’s painted as a deal, and obviously that appears strictly transactional, but that’s exactly how Akira has operated in his own relationships. He makes deals with his confidants; this is nothing new.

He even admits that he’d have snapped Akira out of the delusion, just like Akira does for all his other friends (albeit in a much less gentle way, but in his defense, he’s not exactly equipped for gently talking someone out of their happiness).

So for better or for worse, Akechi’s here with all the straightforwardness and sharp edges you could expect from someone dragged back from death’s door to deal with yet another manipulative adult trying to control his and his friend’s lives. He isn’t without his sympathetic moments, but for the most part, he’s clearly trying to be the consistent voice of reason when anyone may falter.

One of the most incredible displays of this is 2/2. By this point, all of the PT have been broken out of their trance, and they’re well aware that Maruki is going to confront Akira, especially because Akechi basically goes out of his way to point out that it’s the most likely scenario in their group chat.

Even though they all know this, they trust Akira to be able to handle this as their leader and to reach out if he needs anything. The problem here is that... Akira isn’t exactly known to do this. By now, they’ve all known him for a year, and they know that he handles most of his shit alone (mostly due to the Protagonist ProblemTM where the protag has to be mostly self-reliant to give the player something to do, but there are also instances of Akira deliberately hiding his pain and trauma from others to ease their minds [his headaches and responses to Shido]).

So why are they making him do it alone? Why isn’t anyone on stand-by? It’s possible they consider Morgana as enough support, so perhaps the thought never crosses their mind. Even Morgana is apprehensive about the whole thing, but doesn’t advise him to contact anyone else.

So who does give him back-up? Akechi. He doesn’t invite himself in, he doesn’t text Akira to let him know he’s just outside in case he needs him, and he doesn’t draw attention to it until Maruki calls him out.

He could be here for any number of reasons, and it doesn’t even have to be just one reason. But let’s assume he’s here because he wants to make sure Akira won’t be swayed by Maruki’s words or the temptation of his life without him being present to speak for himself. In both cases, he’s emotionally backing Akira up and going out of his way to help in his own way.

This speaks volumes for his strength of resolve and how far he’s come.

I don’t need to discuss the rest of this interaction because the primary focus is that Akechi demonstrates his friendship by being there for Akira even when his year-long friends weren’t (physically).

But are they bad friends for not doing this?

Not necessarily. Not everyone has this kind of strength and awareness to understand their friends on this level. Akira and Akechi understand each other well because they’re very similar at their core. This isn’t necessarily bias because the game goes out of its way to show and tell us this (hell, Arsene’s and Loki’s silhouettes are strikingly similar!). It makes them inconsiderate perhaps, but it doesn’t mean that they’re overall bad friends.

It’s not completely their fault that they buy Akira’s stoic leader personality. He doesn’t really give them much to work with, and as much as we all want to believe that we’d do better as friends, sometimes you really do think people can handle the problems they say they can and just hope that they’ll come to you when they need you. It’s human.

So rewinding now that I’m done focusing on what Akechi offered as a friend this semester and going back to the PT being under Maruki’s influence.

Each of the thieves offers Akira an apology during their third awakening, and I’m sure many people found this highly unnecessary because as far as we know, they were completely brainwashed by Maruki’s control on the world around them. However, if this were the case, then why would they feel so deeply apologetic? I have a couple theories about this.

One. This would be the second time Akira has to push them out of their own wallowing (the first time in the Velvet Room just before fighting Yaldabaoth), and their resolves back then would appear flimsy to them now having fallen under yet another form of manipulation. Where before they were ready to submit to the hopelessness and sloth, here they’re falling under Maruki’s spell because a strong enough part of them desired things to be different regardless of how far they’d come and how much they’d grown.

Two. Because they were at least partially aware things were odd and willingly chose to ignore it because they didn’t want to confront the truth.

This is said before the third awakenings, right after the group comes to rescue Akira and Akechi and help defeat berserk!Cendrillon. While the group had a conversation about vaguely remembering events that contradict their happy reality prior to this, this confirms that at least Futaba was aware things were odd even before Akira tried to snap her out of it. Whether this is due to her navigation abilities or her awakening having been linked to her desire to never again turn her eyes away from the truth, it’s hard to say. But this is important to note that while they were tempted by Maruki, at least one person in the group was aware that things were odd and willingly chose not to question it.

Can we blame her? Of course not. But it’s still worth pointing out that this situation isn’t so clear as “the PT had absolutely zero idea that they were in an odd situation until Akira tried to wake them from it.”

So what about everyone else? What do they really have to be sorry for?

Morgana apologizes for not holding true to his resolve, and he feels as though he’s let both himself and Akira down in doing so. He also acknowledges that he’s responsible for shoving all his own problems onto Akira and vows to change this.

While he doesn’t seem to admit to any awareness that things were odd before Akira put the idea in his head, it seems like he still holds himself responsible for having had doubts in his resolve that he’d reached with Akira in their rank 10. And these doubts caused him to rely on that false happiness and turn his back on Akira, even if he didn’t mean to.

I think it’s great that he brings attention to this and wants to be more independent. Of course Akira will still be there for him, but it’s not healthy for either of them for Morgana to have put him in this position, and now they can continue growing in their friendship. And so when he promises to protect Akira from here on out, it’s a vow that rings true because he had the strength to confront his own weaknesses, admit to them, and apologize for how they hurt someone he cares deeply about. Sometimes we hurt people we love without meaning to or when we’re caught up in ourselves.

And these characters are teenagers. They’re inherently pretty selfish, which isn’t an evil or bad thing so much as it’s a stage of life that makes it difficult to look outside yourself. Makoto even admits to this in her own apology.

When we’re fans of these characters, our instinct is to say you didn’t do anything wrong; you have nothing to apologize for, but these apologies aren’t coming out of no where, and they’re allowed to reflect and regret what they’ve done even if they didn’t mean to.

And I know I already touched on Futaba’s situation here, but there’s something else in her third awakening that shows her bond with Akira and adds to her guilt. She specifically fears that she’s betrayed him and hurt him greatly, even though he reassures her she hasn’t. Why does this stand out to me? Because all throughout Royal, one of Akira’s consistent fears is the fear of betrayal.

And this shows that Futaba knows him well enough to know this is something that hurts him personally, and she’s worried she did that to him. While the hurt isn’t as severe as she fears, it’s a fair assumption for her to come to after having admitted that she willingly turned away from the truth.

I’m going to cut the awakenings here because I don’t have much else to add about the entirety of the PT because it could end up redundant, but these were specific examples that show that they do have things to apologize to Akira for, and it’s not a matter of them blaming themselves for being “brainwashed” so much as them apologizing for once again putting Akira in a position where he has to snap them out of their weaknesses after they’ve promised to be there for him.

The overall impression I get from their responsibility in the matter is that to an extent, all of them probably experienced something similar to what Futaba described about having felt something was off initially but ignored/denied it until Akira came to them and really made them confront it out loud. Her sense of it may have been the strongest, but I still think there has to be some degree in each of them, even if faint.

This makes them human, flawed yet sympathetic. They’re allowed to mess up in their friendships, especially since a majority of them have close to no experience with friendship as is. Akechi isn’t the better support here due to his own skills in friendship; he and Akira have a special understanding of one another because they’re extremely similar and aren’t convinced by masks and appearances. And Akechi has been severely manipulated, so he knows damn well that Akira’s gonna need back-up against another manipulative person even if he thinks he can handle it alone. Akechi’s been there and he knows how that goes.

So it’s not necessarily a matter of him being the better friend overall so much as they’re all Akira’s close friends and support him in various ways. And ideally, Akira should have that in his friend group. There are things that the PT can offer that Akechi can’t, and vice versa. But I think it’s more than fair to acknowledge when the PT slip up and have a messy handling of their relationships.

They’re all growing and learning.

#jest ramblings #whoops i rambled but there are at least screenshots here?#I was gonna go through each of the 3rd tier awakenings but tbh this is already so long #kingdom queue

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ouranor · 4 years

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I saw your latest hanyo no yashahime post because I followed the tag and I have to say as a victim of grooming myself, I would rather be aggressive towards the adult Sessrin shippers,I do think some of them have pedophillic tendency’s, I know you hate that word being thrown around but how else would you describe people enjoying seeing sexualized fanart/actual porn of child Rin and sesshomaru. And a ship is just a ship yes but when large amounts of people try to normalize grooming I draw the line

Dear Nonny

First of all: I’m so sorry that you had to go through such a horrible experience and thank you for sharing this so openly. I’ll do my best to explain my point of view about the current chaos and how to navigate it as best as I can. In order for me not to repeat myself too often, I‘ll assume that people reading this will also have read my previous post that prompted Nonny to message me.

About the ship itself:

As far as the ending of the manga goes, Rin and Sesshoumaru are blank slates, leaving lots of room for interpretation. What is true for both characters is that neither of them have any romance set up, because neither Rin nor Sesshoumaru are anywhere near ready for any kind of romantic relationship (no matter with who) at that point in time. Rin because she’s a child and Sesshoumaru because he’s an emotionally stunted and immature mess of a man (which is why I find the sequel‘s premise incredibly unbelievable. There‘s no way Sesshoumaru was ready to have half-demon children and this is a flat-out character assassination for Sesshoumaru but I DIGRESS). In the manga, not a single trace of romance can be found, and thus not a single trace of grooming. Giving a growing child a new kimono is not grooming, it‘s common sense.

Now, most people that oppose SessRin do immediately jump to pedophilia and grooming for multiple reasons and, while I don’t ship SessRin, reducing the ship to assumptions like these is not an okay thing to do. I firmly stand by this statement and I’ll do my best to explain why.

Now, because this will be important to understand the thoughts I‘m conveying, please remember these key points:

1) Explaining does NOT equal excusing. I will never make excuses for people that romanticize children in romantic relationships. All I‘m doing is do my best to cut through the very emotionally charged and hardened fronts in this ship-war.

2) We NEED to separate the ship from its shippers. SessRin is an extremely difficult ship to write that needs to be treated with much more care and awareness than most other hetero-ships, but because people abuse Rin as their Mary-Sue and don‘t give the characters actual care and love, you end up with terrible fanfiction that depicts SessRin as „a given / destined / Rin‘s the closest vagina in the near vicinity“. And yet: Sesshoumaru grooming Rin is not the ONLY possible continuation of this ship. I‘ll get back to this in a bit.

3) Grooming is a choice, pedophilia is a mental disorder. While the two overlap at times, they are NOT the same. I’ll broach this issue near the end of this post.

Now, to get the worst out of the way, I’ll agree to this: The interpretation coming from the loudest and most aggressive shippers (Celestia on Twitter is an excellent example) is highly problematic and, as mentioned, shows a lack of comprehension regarding subtility and a lack of emotional intelligence. They‘re very black and white and they romanticize the characters as they were left in the manga, saying (among other things) how Rin is Sesshoumaru’s soulmate and understands him like no other, in spite of being a child, and THAT raises all kinds of alarm bells. Because this is exactly the rhetoric used by predators towards impressionable children. People claiming that this isn’t the case are being willfully ignorant and I usually don’t tolerate such people and use the block button generously.

But this is the WORST manifestation of this ship. Notice how I say the worst, not the ONLY.

Unfortunately, this worst interpretation usually comes from the laziest and most aggressive shippers that simply lack the creativity to imagine anything else. I’ve read many a SessRin fanfiction that built this relationship up in a believable way, taking its time and addressing the potential pitfalls, unfortunately this type of dedication or writing talent is not easily found in a fandom as vast and trope-y as Inuyasha. But I‘ve also read a ton of fanfiction where SessRin is a „logical conclusion“ because the author is actually writing an InuKag fic and has no idea what else to do with Sesshoumaru and Rin, hence: Another pairing to make babies with, yaaaay. SessRin happens by proxy, which is a huge NO-NO. This echoes one of my mantras: In order for Sesshoumaru to even get into a romantic relationship (NO MATTER WITH WHO), there is an entire story and development that needs to be told first. The same goes for Rin because again, by the end of the manga, she‘s not much of a character at all. “Why do you even read SessRin if you don’t ship it??” I hear you ask (not you, Nonny, I mean this and the following in a general sense). Because I keep saying that every ship has its merit and I’m interested in the stories that can be told. I keep saying that all ships are legitimate and I don’t want to miss out on any potentially amazing stories, especially because those were seriously hard to come by back in the day (anyone remember the 2000’s? Anyone?). I’ve read fanfiction from literally every Inuyasha ship under the sun. So if I see the tell-tales of a bad SessRin fic, I leave the author and their world behind and move on to something else. I’ll use this short interlude to say this: It has become such a horrible trend in fandom to put the sole responsibility of one’s fanfiction-experience on the author instead of taking responsibility for the content one might consume. There’s an incredible lack of self-sufficiency, a lack of ability to just move away when people read something they don’t want to read without taking personal offense. Now, I’m not saying that you have to be like me, but at least take responsibility for your own experience. ANYWAY, back to the topic at hand.

So again: In order for Rin or Sesshoumaru to get together romantically at any point in the future, a LOT needs to happen first. A lot of development, a lot of questioning, a LOT of build-up, because this relationship needs a heck of a lot more explanation than most other hetero-ships out there, but most fanfic writers and shippers are too lazy to set this up properly, leading to problematic romanticization, sugarcoating and hand-waving away of serious subjects that need to be addressed. Most of these types of SessRin shippers I see are found on Twitter and Tumblr (many are Spanish, too, wth is up with that), as mentioned, and they are are extremely questionable, seeing no issue at all with this ship, and here’s my opinion on why that is: Given from what I’ve seen, these types of shippers equal Rin with themselves. If you read how they justify this ship, it has nothing to do with her being a child, and everything to do with the blank slate that she is (like Bella Swan in Twilight). Rin has endless potential and it’s much easier to project ones own fantasy on a character that has yet to BECOME an actual character you can write a love story WITH. Of course, shippers don‘t realize this, because projection is usually done on an unconscious level. But to someone who’s been observing in this fandom and lurking for years, this seems incredibly obvious. Neither Rin nor Sesshoumaru have any agency, because they’re fictional, and that’s why SessRin is such a ticking bomb, always has been. They can be turned into whatever you want.

Now, that’s of course what fandom is for: Fulfillment of fantasies and works depicting any dynamic from fluffy to dark. But here’s the second main problem: Because SessRin is usually depicted as your typical, trope-riddled “male is alpha, woman is beta at best” romance, it falls right into heteronormative standards. Heterosexual relationships are TEEMING with extremely lazy writing (and normalized abuse, but that’s a subject for another time) and for some reason, I’ve observed how hetero ships have this insane entitlement to “purity”. What I mean by that is that hetero-ships are much more likely to attract fans that need their ship to be canon, otherwise they can’t function. This is EXACTLY what happens with SessRin. If you just had SessRin shippers doing their thing, I don’t think we’d be in this situation. But because of the sequel and its excellent marketing strategy, SessRin shippers are full of hope and, worst of all, grasping at straws and lording their ship’s superiority over everyone else with renewed fervor. If Takahashi/Sunrise weren’t such absolute cunts (pardon the language), we’d not be in this situation. Because SessRin is now a “possibility” in the sequel, people suddenly see the fulfillment of their own personal fantasies within reach. Let me repeat: This is about the fulfillment of their OWN PERSONAL fantasy and has nothing to do with Rin. She just happens to be the female character that’s closest to Sesshoumaru. The fact that she’s a child does not factor in this particular scenario, even though it SHOULD.

So again: The ship is fine on its own, because it’s literally a blank slate that you can go in ANY direction with. It’s the people that desperately grasp for canon and have decided that SessRin is a foregone conclusion WITHOUT any build-up or explanation that are the true problem. They look to the sequel and their own interpretations to justify their lazy and problematic interpretation of the ship. They make the ship into the potential grooming/pedophilia shitstorm that many “antis” are caught up in, but that’s not the ships fault.

Speaking of which, let’s talk about the grooming and possible pedophilia.

I’d ask people, after reading all of the above, to remember this: If there is any grooming at all, it has yet to happen, because NOTHING has happened between Sesshoumaru and Rin after the manga. Hell, they didn‘t even speak to each other in the charity chapter. They are still the same blank slates now that they were back then. Whether or not grooming happens is in the hands of any creator that decides to take their dynamic further.

As for pedophilic tendencies: I will not deny that there are traces of that in SessRin shipping (some prominent people also ship Zabuza/Haku from Naruto which is telling), but I swear to you that 99% of SessRin fanfictions I’ve read do NOT depict Sesshoumaru with a child Rin (except for 1-2 dark fics that portrayed the dangers of a relationship with such a power imbalance, which are extremely important works as well imo). Same goes for the art. This again because Rin is not treated as a proper character, but as a vessel for wish fulfillment.

I have said many negative things about the shippers that are triggering the entire fandom at the moment, but people that oppose this ship need to be honest with themselves and acknowledge that them jumping to the conclusion of “SessRin ALWAYS equals grooming and pedophilia” also lack creativity and the ability to differentiate between different paths and outcomes. Accusing others of pedophilia is inappropriate and uncalled for, not matter how upset you are. I too have had to learn and accept that pedophilia is a mental disorder and needs a proper diagnosis and treatment. What happens because of a mental disorder should never be excused, no matter if it’s depression, bi-polar disorder or pedophilia, but what we can hopefully all agree on is that mental disorders are not something you choose.

So the only thing I can say to you, Nonny, is this: If you see something that looks like pedophilia or grooming to you, absolutely do report it. As someone once told me: The block button is a form of self-care. Use it! I have done the same over the last couple of days and it’s cathartic. If something triggers you, avoid it and find someone/somewhere to vent to if necessary. Your feelings are extremely valid, your aggression towards others (if you have shown any, that is) is not. Your experiences were horrific without any shadow of the doubt, but the way this possibly influences how you react to and treat others is absolutely something that is YOUR responsibility.

What I would, again, ask all of the people aggressively opposing SessRin is that you reconsider your stance on pedophilia. Its potential consequences are inexcusable, but accusing other people of being pedophiles because you’re jumping to conclusions is in extremely bad taste and leaves you not only on the same intellectual level as the shipper you’re accusing, but possibly even lower than that because you’re cherry-picking which potential mental disorder you’re discriminating against. It’s a free world, of course, but I’m sure we’re all trying very hard not to be hypocrites.

I wanted to TL;DR this entire post, but there’s honestly no way to do that without skipping over important parts. So thank you if you’ve made it to the end of this massive ramble. I understand that this is a very delicate subject and I am open to any and all people that would like to discuss this further. Special thanks go to Nonny for giving me the opportunity to talk about this more. I hope I answered your question, even if it might not have been what you wished to hear. Have a wonderful day and please take good care of yourself!

#inuyasha #sessrin #sesshoumaru #rin #hanyo no yashahime #hanyonoyashahime #hanyou no yashahime

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hellojeffreyjames · 4 years

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Another mental health awareness month has come to an end. One challenge that a designated period presents, is that it can be hard to navigate for people who struggle to function in a neurotypical culture. It’s hard to parse all the virtue signaling or things folks say just to just participate in the theme of the month. To get ready for all the people to check in once in November, and then abandon them when that dynamic is so stressful they’d rather not have that person check in at all. It can be stressful to interact with people who are well intentioned, but lack an awareness of what being supportive means. It means they may dismiss the idea you have a neurological difference because they view a diagnosis as a defect instead of a part of neurodiversity.

This dullness may not happen, but if that’s the case, it doesn’t have to be forever. It can be a stepping stone towards building cognitive habits and disciplines you need to reduce your dosage. It can be the phase you needed to rewire your neurons. You may be able to build the structures you need to be medication free in a couple years instead of decades.

There are some neurological conditions that make it impossible to do certain things. One can learn the skills to work around that, and make the impossible, possible. but for many people it’s like trying to learn calculus while bench pressing 200 pounds as someone keeps sticking a needles in your foot and telling you that you have no value and would be better off dead. For me that is not a question of whether or not I could learn calculus like that. It’s whether or it I should.

There are simple things I intend to do every single day and just cannot do them when I’m not on meds. I will beat myself up, tell myself I am a waste of a human life, and a burden to everyone, because I can’t do the even most basic things. I can’t do for those around me what I absolutely believe they deserve from me, and I don’t even have the language to explain why the most simple tasks are next to impossible. How it just looks like me being inconsiderate and selfish. How climbing Mount Everest would genuinely be easier than, say, mailing a letter.

That’s not an exaggeration. I mean there are chemical differences that make a simple mundane task more difficult than something that includes tangible stress, urgency, extreme physical challenge, and in a distraction free environment. Obviously I’d fail at climbing Mount Everest as an untrained mountain climber, but I would engage with the activity. Taking three coffee cups off the nightstand and putting them in the dishwasher? Without medication, that might happen if I think about it every day for the next... 2 years. Ok, that one is an exaggeration, but it would be quite a while.

I feel very proud as I watch my friends make life plans and conquer the world, as I formulate my own elaborate 36 step plan to ensure I brush my teeth today.

If anyone identifies with any of that, to any degree, I just want you to know that you’re not alone. Yes, I also set myself 26 alarms and nine reminders and still did not make it to the post office yesterday. Or the day before that. Or the day before that. Yes, I also don’t know what to tell my family about why I don’t reciprocate birthday cards. Yes, I also feel like I am doing my best to hide and perform happiness and high function.

Have you gotten so good at it you’re afraid people think the performance is the really of how you are doing, and that mentioning your struggles would be seen as being attention seeking or melodramatic? Hey, me too, and I also feel this paradox: Wishing somebody knew, yet embarrassed that if anyone really new, they wouldn’t know where to begin to support me and I wouldn’t know what to tell them. Yes, you and I both share that fear, that it will only end with a loss of dignity and to be treated like that unstable neurotic friend that folks keep at arms length and never expect much out of. That you’ll be stuck at the “kids table” of life and never be invited to anything that counts. And “me too” about... a lot of other and darker things we won’t get into right now.

We can spend a lot of energy juggling all of these difficult concepts and throwing the balls up so high in the air we don’t realize The massive amount of energy we are blowing through to just make it through each day. We can’t see them all at one time and realize, no one on the earth should have to do all of that alone. No one on the earth can do all of that alone. You are not a failure to seek help.

You are not a failure to seek help.

To stay afloat we keep juggling but if we stopped we would see it fall to the ground and say, “Holy shit I’ve been trying to manage hundreds of emotional, intellectual, psychological, spiritual, and physical burdens that the people I compare myself to ...simply don’t.” The reason I feel feel like I am at the razor’s edge of losing everything, is because I am trying to do something nearly impossible, and perhaps absolutely impossible to do on my own.

You are not a failure to seek help. You are not dishonoring your body or your mind to take a medicine. You’re not a failure if you need to talk to a psychiatrist. You are not a failure if you believe you have neglected your whole life, for your entire life. Because I know how hard it is to just make it through the day and still be alive. I know how hard it is to wake up every morning knowing you’re going to make it through this day, by the skin of your teeth, again.

That’s not your fault. The hundreds of things you have to conquer in your mind to make it through every single day - that’s not your fault and I need you to know that I am so. goddamn. proud of you. I’m proud of you because this fight is absurdly difficult. I hope you can trust me in that because at this point I’m an an expert in this fight. I’m an expert at putting in every last drop of my effort and willpower, just to tie my shoes, get in the car, and drive to work. This fight is not a fair fight. You’ve been fighting an incredibly unfair fight, if not always by yourself, often by yourself ...and that is why I am so goddamn proud of you.

I am more proud of you than I am of billionaires. I am more proud of you than those people who get to live laugh love their dream life and get paid to travel the world and sample ice cream for their ice cream travel blog. I’m proud of you because I know what you have to do to just keep putting one foot in front of the other, and you don’t get to sample the ice cream flavors of Bangladesh for doing so.

So I want you to know, again: it’s okay to seek help. It can be a difficult road but I recommend professional help. Some wonderful spiritual books and friends can’t often fight that incredibly unfair fight. You are a specific person and a mental health practitioner will be able to understand your specific needs and make adjustments as needed.

I can’t promise you that I will give you exactly what you’re needing but I am here if you need to reach out and want to know more about getting help. I can promise, that if your friends fail to support you in the ways that you need, it’s not because they don’t love you, it’s because they are not professional supports. They haven’t trained for this. Seeking professional support is the way that we begin to believe we are not a burden to our friends and family.

Even when you never were, it’s the same feeling of asking loved ones casually about some car issues for years, tinkering with your engine for years, then hiring a mechanic. There’s no one in your life who will shame you for seeking a mechanic and you might be amazed at how quickly your car begins to drive more smoothy.

Anyone who talks negatively about medication, therapy, psychiatry, etc. do not have your well-being in mind. they are sales people for their own ideologies. It’s not about you it’s about how you should take natural medicine or trust Jesus. There are people who would rather you buy some supplements and remain miserable than to see a professional and be shown that professional help does make a real difference. it’s best to avoid those folks for a little while.

You are not a failure to seek help.

I am more proud of you billionaires and professional ice cream tasting supermodels.

You are fighting a battle you do not deserve to fight alone.

You are absolutely positively not alone.

You’re not a failure to seek help.

Things can get better.

Things will get better.

In the darkest places, reasons to try, to go on, to keep living, are often often nonexistent. I don’t want you to have any hope that things will change. I’m asking you to place a tiny sliver of trust in these things I’m saying. The best recent to do something different and to seek help is going to be, for no reason. The voices in your head will try to stop you and you must tell them, “there is no reason I’m doing this. But I am still going to do it.” Hope will betray you. Friends and family are not professional supports and will let you down because they don’t have any training.

I just want you to place that sliver trust in how I know road will get smoother. Things will get easier. Seeking help is not failure. I’m not asking you to hope I know this. I am asking you to trust that I notice. And I’m asking you to please keep on seeking help even though the help feel sometimes. The system may be broken but system can be a crucial part love you reconnecting with yourself and your inner resources so that you can create your own path of healing.

I’m so incredibly proud of you. thank you for reading all of this and if you choose to, thank you for placing that sliver of trust in these things I’m saying. And if you can’t do anything else, keep being around people you feel good around. The people that do you feel excepted and listen to with, and if you don’t have any of those let me know and I’ll make sure you do. 💛🤍🖤💛🤍🖤

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theatresweetheart · 5 years

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Desperate Measures [ 3 ]

Fandoms: Sanders Sides, G/t

Warnings: Swearing, fear, main character being treated like a pet, feelings of hopelessness, depressive thoughts. (If I missed something, please let me know!)

Pairings: Romantic/Parental Logicality, Platonic Logince, Platonic TLAMP

Word Count: 1538 words

Taglist: @isle-of-gold @anonymous-bean @sandersships @kaytikitty @picklesandbeyond

Chapter Navigation: Chapter 1, Chapter 2

+~+~+~+~+~+~+~+~+~+

The nausea that had hit him was unexpected and he felt lightheaded. The fact that he was going to be taken away from the only place he had known for these past six months was stomach churning.

If he were to be taken even further away from the University where his family lived, then there was no way for him to even think about getting back to them.

The fact that his awful behaviour hadn’t been enough to turn this guy away was upsetting and harsh, cold and biting.

It always worked.

It had always worked. He would talk back and people would shut down and turn away from him, almost as if he wasn’t there.

This patron—he found it amusing.

And that was infuriating.

“What?” Logan finally voiced his thoughts. “You can’t just…just decide like that! I’m a person too, I can’t just be sold like property! This is absolutely absurd.” Almost as if, for once, he couldn’t find the right words to express his distress, he became far more gesticulate. “I have thoughts and— and feelings and the fact that I’m just as human as you are only to be bought and sold is incredibly dehumanizing and—”

“Oh relax your pretty little head about it, Four-Eyes,” the patron spoke up, easily and effectively shutting Logan up—something that was rather difficult for anyone else to do, might he add—and stayed knelt down on the borrower’s level. “You’ll be fine. I’m not that bad a person, you’ll see.”

What in the holy hell did that mean?

“Well,” the man clapped his hands against his thighs before standing up to his full height. For the first time in a very long time, Logan actually felt nervous with the human at his entire stature, towering over the cage and sealing his unspoken fate. “Where do I sign for this adoption?”

“O-oh right!” The shopkeeper startled out of their transfix and turned on their heel. “Come right this way and I’ll get the papers ready.”

While the shopkeeper took the patron away, Logan felt physically sick to his stomach. The way the human had looked so set in his ways, like he knew that he wanted this without a doubt. He felt horribly ill. He couldn’t prevent this fate from being sealed and he needed to find a way out.

Now.

His eyes flickered over towards the hole where the water basin was on both sides, between the bars. It was a bit smaller than he was but that wasn’t going to stop him from trying in his desperation.

Logan’s eyes moved up to see the patron and the shopkeeper at the front of the store, signing the papers and finishing up.

He needed to act as quick as possible.

Immediately Logan was up on his feet, going over the mess of blankets he had created as a somewhat resemblance of his bed back home and dug through until he found a small golden chain and slipped it over his head. It had been a gift from his husband and he only took it off—if ever—to protect it from prying eyes of a human passerby in case they got a bit too curious.

Ignoring the fact that it may be chilly outside, he left his jacket behind and went to the hole in the bars dressed in his worn jeans and black long-sleeve shirt, which he had pushed up to his elbows to allow full use of his arms.

Peering out through the hole, he needed to wriggle his shoulders through first. The drop down to the floor was dizzying, but that meant nothing if he could actually get himself free.

This was not how it was going to end.

He was not going to be some simple pet.

He was losing time and the chatter from both of the humans near the front were getting closer. Heart now hammering in his throat, he twisted just enough so that his hands were grasping the bars that were above him and was trying to pull his waist through the slot. If he could get out, he could find a way out of this place and he could find his way back to the University.

Logan just wanted to go home.

What was so wrong with that?

He had never yearned more than now to hear the onslaught of puns from Patton, to repeat himself when Virgil asked questions about the most obvious things. While those moments had been draining in the moment, that was all he wanted to hear now.

To feel Virgil tug at his shirt. To hear Patton’s laugh ring through the home like bells.

It was all he wanted.

Those tears of frustration were back, prickling the corners of his eyes as he tugged harder on the bars, trying to pull himself free. The strain in his forearms was burning, the tugging was pulling at the muscles in his shoulders that he hadn’t used in what seemed like ages.

Borrowers were naturally stronger than the average human because they used their upper body and arms a lot more than people did. Climbing and swinging from things allowed them to use a strength that most humans didn’t know they had themselves because they never needed to work those muscles. All for the fact that they didn’t need to. Not to survive.

But Logan wasn’t moving. Caught by the waist of his jeans, hooked on a rogue piece of bar that was sticking just a bit too far out, and no amount of pulling from himself was going to get him free of it.

His strength was failing him and he could feel it.

“Logan!” The shopkeeper’s voice came from behind him, sounding worried and surprised.

The borrower’s trials were all for naught. As soon as the shopkeeper had grabbed his torso between two fingers, the young man was tugged free with nothing at all and was held uncomfortably in a secure fist to ensure that he didn’t hurt himself further.

“Dear God,” they said, breathless. “Whatever possessed you to pull a stunt like that? You could have gotten hurt!”

“Let me go!” He demanded, shoving at the finger that was pressing against his chest keeping him from getting to his freedom. “Just let me go back to my family, damn you!”

There was no point trying to hide the fact that they existed if humans already knew that borrowers as a whole existed completely. He didn’t care anymore. He just wanted his husband. He wanted the comforting touches they shared during the early morning or late into the evening, the way that if he was having a rough night, Patton would know what to do without so much as saying a word. He wanted his son’s cold hands pressing against his face in the morning, trying to wake him up.

He wanted so much that he would never get to have again.

The saying was true: you never knew what you had until it was gone.

“God, you just keep going on and on about your family,” the shopkeeper rolled their eyes before brushing past the concerned patron and grabbing a small carrying compartment. They pried it open before letting the borrower drop into it. Quickly folding it back up, they held the box out to the patron. “There. I do warn you, though. He’s got a bit of a temper.”

“So I’ve noticed,” the patron chuckled, though it almost seemed uncomfortable.

Feeling helpless, Logan tried to gain his balance as best as he could as the box shifted and moved from person to person and he threw his shoulder against the side of it. He bounced backwards and stumbled to his knees, but he would not be bested by this cardboard.

The box began to move in a swaying gait and there were farewells being passed overhead. The sound of a bell jingling high above his head made his stomach sick.

So, he did whatever he could.

He tried pushing and shoving, kicking, shouting profanities and insults. As much as he hated it, Logan had even been reduced to begging—pleading for a release that he would never get.

His only answer had been a car door opening and closing before the engine started with a roaring purr.

Feeling powerless and overwhelmed with his reality, Logan sunk to his knees finally, hands dragging down against the inside of the box and stayed in a slumped position. His shoulders rose and fell with his panting breaths, listening to the world as it continued on without so much as a qualm about his well-being.

Desperation.

Desperation clawed itself into his chest. It was difficult to focus, but he knew he couldn’t do anything.

It was over.

It really was over.

The resolute silence from outside of the carrying box, save for the music that seemed to be put to a lower volume, was irritating and frightening and worrying all at the same time. All of his advances had been met with nothing, no words, no snarking back. Nothing. And he didn’t know how to feel about that. If he should be feeling ignored or discarded.

This sharp feeling was settling deep into his chest and he could hardly focus on anything else.

#Brook writes #Sanders Sides #g/t #giant/tiny #giant #tiny #borrowers #ts Logan #ts Roman #Logan Sanders #Roman Sanders #Borrower!Logan #Human!Roman #Platonic Logince #Logince #Desperate Measures

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hermitreunited · 4 years

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💜💜Klave Fic Recs!! 💜💜

Surprising probably uhhh no one, I go absolutely WILD for Klaus and Dave, but this list is the restrained edit. It deffff could be longer. This ship means so so much to me, and that is absolutely the product of reading such incredible, beautiful fic about them. I have never before felt as strongly about a fictional couple, which I guess means it’s my first actual otp? So so many thanks to the writers who wrote fic about these two and taught me what longing and love are.

Ten Months by @fanthings

It makes him sad, sometimes, that in order to find acceptance, Klaus has to travel back fifty years into one of the bloodiest wars of American history. Most of the time, he doesn't care. His family probably doesn't even notice he's missing anyway. --- Dave is looking at him, eyes soft and heavy lidded. “What did you say to that guy?” he asks, head resting on the wall, body turned towards Klaus. “Ah,” Klaus laughs, dropping his hand to take a drink. “Just mouthed off. You know how I am.” “That mouth will get you in trouble some day,” Dave says softly. Klaus looks up, swallowing. “Some people like my mouth,” he says. “I do.”

Rating: M⎜Word Count: 122k+⎜In Progress (10/14)

Fuck. Fuck! I can’t explain how much I love this fic. I’ve gone out of my mind over it. It’s so so good. Covering Klaus’ ten months in Vietnam, and his and Dave’s relationship. It’s so well written and detailed and all the characters even OCs are so well-realized and realistic. Dave is fully fleshed out too, with strengths and flaws and his own person, not Klaus’ prop. It made me realize that Klaus and Dave fighting is my favorite thing, because then they get back together. They always work to fix things with each other and ahhh god I’m emotional just thinking about it I adore this fic.

Oddities Observed, Vietnam 1968 by @charmingpplincardigans

“There are people who care whether you live or die,” Dave said, because he felt it needed saying. He couldn’t imagine not caring. This man was erratic, but he was also fragile in a way Dave couldn’t quite put his finger on given how he was apparently also indestructible, and deeply intuitive about people and their moods. When he wasn’t as high as the army doctors’ pills and black-market heroin would allow, he was paying attention. Dave knew, because while Klaus was paying attention to the others, he was paying attention to Klaus. “Do you think?” Klaus pulled a joint out of his metal cigarette case, lit it, and took a hit. He offered it to Dave, who didn’t take it. He was always offering his things to Dave, even when he knew they weren’t things Dave wanted. “Yes,” he said. “I do.” (Or, Vietnam, but from Dave's point of view.)

Rating: M⎜Word Count: 17k+⎜Complete (1/1)

An absolute classic. I don’t think I’ve seen it on other lists this week and that’s simply a crime. One of the first Vietnam fics I read and still one of the best! It’s got such a good blend of that lethal combination of all Klaus and Dave fics - on fire with the fear and violence of their situation, but so full of tenderness and love. It’s got desperation, in the best way. It’s beautiful.

the kind of love i’ve been dreaming of by katplanet

“You agreed to be a designated driver,” Klaus says, because of course he’s as good at this as he is at every other thing he and Dave have done in bed together. “All your stupid Varsity Lacrosse friends started annoying you, so you were looking for someone else to talk to. And lo and behold, a sad twink in a crop top, alone on the couch with a half-finished vodka cranberry.” “What’s a twink?” “Me,” Klaus says. “I’m a twink.”

Rating: E⎜Word Count: 6k+⎜Complete (1/1)

The only explicit fic I’ve ever recced? I don’t read too much smut, but this fic. The tenderness in this fic is enough to kill you, and then also there is smut, which is a potent combination! This is the fic that gave me my Klaus and Dave tag, because reading this fic, I cried and came to some realizations about Love.

Slow is in My Blood by @sunriseseance

Dave touches him, sometimes. In dances through root systems lit by a diffused moon, Dave puts a hand on his lower back, his arm, his shoulder. To help, he says. Your balance, he says, it isn’t good. I don’t want you to fall. These pits are endless, he says. You don’t like the dark. A touch to help. It helps. A meditation on Klaus and allowing himself to be loved. Dave doesn't die at the end.

Rating: NR⎜Word Count: 1k+⎜Complete (1/1)

It’s so so gorgeous. It’s Klaus making the decision to love and be loved, even as he considers all the frightening ramifications of it. It’s had a huge impact on the way I think about their dynamic. I love it so much.

My night sky by apathyinreverie

The first time Dave sees Klaus, he is wearing nothing but a bloody towel, clutching a briefcase to his chest like his life depends on it and looking up at him with big eyes from where he is sitting on the floor next to his cot. And immediately, Dave is spellbound. Over the ten months they know each other, that doesn’t change.

Rating: G⎜Word Count: 3k+⎜Complete (1/1)

Such a great look at Klaus from Dave’s outside, but smitten perspective. Almost like a character study of him, during a time when he’s going through so much. And it’s so well-written - right from the start there’s a line about Klaus being made of contradictions that has stuck with me for so long.

Bad Habits by @siriuspiggyback

Dave shook his head. “I wasn’t asking you to- I wanted to talk. That’s all. Not-” “Why are you making this so difficult?” accused Klaus. “I made you mad. So I was going to suck you off, so you wouldn’t be mad anymore,” he said simply, like he was explaining something obvious. Or, after a lifetime of sleeping with guys just to get off the streets for the night, Klaus has a bad understanding of consent. Dave isn't okay with that.

Rating: T⎜Word Count: 3k+⎜Complete (1/1)

And if we are talking about things that have stuck with me, this fic is one that I must have read so early on that I just folded it in with my baby developing Klaus and Dave dynamic headcanons, and it’s never left me. I think this is the only one on here that is set in some kind of post-not-apocalypse where they are navigating what a ‘normal’ relationship looks like for them.

I’ll Be Cleaning Up Bottles With You On New Year’s Day by @sunriseseance

Sitting behind him on the windowsill, in a truth that still feels false, is Dave. Quiet, right now. Rubbing Klaus's neck. Kissing it occasionally. New clothes, even, though still only things Klaus saw Dave wear in life. The closest he came to fancy enough for New Year's was the outfit he wore on the night they first kissed. The dates still get muddled in his head. Dave still smells like Dave. Klaus can bring that back, too. The earthy-clean skin, the slight scent of sweat, the cotton of the polo. Something else, underneath all that. Something that Klaus could recognize anywhere, could follow to the end of the world, could die to protect.

Rating: NR⎜Word Count: 1k+⎜Complete (1/1)

I know I’ve recced this and her fics before but this fic is so incredibly beautiful that it really is the perfect fit for being the final one I rec for this event. Reading it feels like warmth. It’s a concentrated dose of the exact kind of happiness that Klaus and Dave share at the best of times. I love it, and I love them, and I love her, and I love everyone in this fandom who is sharing their love with everyone by posting their creations <3

thanks for this week nine days of positivity, @tuafeedbackfest and everyone who participated!

#tuafeedbackfest #tua fic rec #the ship that taught me that love is real and the gays invented it #it's my Klaus and Dave tag because I felt like I understood more about what love means after reading some of these fics about them #ooof I got a lot of sappy feelings fam #long post

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cinemavariety · 5 years

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Cinema Variety’s Top Favorite Films of 2019

To quote Principal Duvall from the 2004 teen comedy classic Mean Girls: “I just wanted to say that you’re all winners, and that I couldn’t be happier the year is ending” 2019 was both a super difficult year personally, but even more so, I feel as if it was one of the weakest years for cinema in recent memory. Thankfully the last few months of the year have made up for it with a surplus of absolutely incredible cinematic experiences, many of which are reflected in this year’s rankings. I present to you my favorite films of 2019. Check out my rankings from previous years by checking out the links below:

Top Picks of 2018 List Top Picks of 2017 List Top Picks of 2016 List Top Picks of 2015 List Top Picks of 2014 List Top Picks of 2013 List

Honorable Mentions: Midsommar Uncut Gems Parasite 3 From Hell The Death and Life of John F. Donavan **THIS LIST IS IN ORDER AND CONTAINS SOME MILD SPOILERS**

#16 - Ready or Not Directed by Matt Bettinelli-Olpin & Tyler Gillett

Ready or Not looked entertaining enough from the trailers, but it certainly wasn’t anything I was dying to go see. Especially in a movie theatre. However my brother convinced me to go with him and it ended up being one of the most consistently fun and entertaining theatrical experiences of 2019.

There were a lot of similar plot elements to the brilliant 2013 horror film - You’re Next (which by the way is one of my favorites). The plot is about a young girl, who grew up an orphan, marrying into an insanely wealthy family. The family has a tradition of playing a game on the wedding night, and she ends up choosing a game of hide and seek. Unbeknownst to the bride, the family is actually planning to hunt her down and murder her in order to perform some type of satanic ritual.

Horror comedies only work for me about half the time, but his film has enough graphic violence and intense situations to counterbalance all of the humor throughout. They complemented each other well and the result was a super funny and super bloody cat and mouse hunt of social classes.

#15 - Doctor Sleep Directed by Mike Flanagan

Helming the sequel to The Shining is no easy undertaking whatsoever. Kubrick’s arthouse horror masterpiece will forever remain not only one of my favorite of his films, but also as one of my favorite genre pieces in general. I was immediately relieved when I discovered that Mike Flanagan signed on to direct the adaptation of Stephen King’s sequel - Doctor Sleep.

I already knew beforehand that Doctor Sleep was more of a fantasy story than a direct horror, and also wasn’t one of the most popular of King’s works. The film ended up being a pretty epic fantasy thriller. Flanagan excels in creating his own universe while also honoring the source material, as well as paying homage to Kubrick’s film. However, it shines more when it does its own thing instead of trying to be nostalgia porn.

Most of the film worked for me, some of it didn’t. The recasting of Jack Torrance’s character left a slightly sour taste in my mouth. Ewan McGregor does a great job as the recovering Danny but it is really Rebecca Ferguson who steals the show with her villain character Rose the Hat.

Doctor Sleep proves that Flanagan has become one of the most consistent horror directors working in the industry. There’s always a pulse to be discovered in the foundations of his storytelling.

#14 - High Life Directed by Claire Denis

Claire Denis, one of the most polarizing French auteurs, debuted her first English language film in 2019 with High Life. I had the pleasure of seeing the film on a big screen, and even though I felt a little underwhelmed as an initial reaction to the finale, the film seemed to linger in my subconscious like a haunting unresolved dream. It held up even better on a re-watch, which you can view for free if you have Amazon Prime.

It’s definitely unlike any space film that I have ever seen. The premise surrounds a group of prisoners on death row who are sent to the farthest depths of space on a doomed voyage. All of the occupants are corralled by Juliette Binoche’s character, who plays some type of mad space scientist, is obsessed with collecting their semen in order to create new life in the abyss of the cosmos.

High Life is a slow burn, often minimalist film, which relies more heavily on atmosphere/score/visuals than it does on dialogue or forced plot elements. It’s bewilderingly nihilistic in how it depicts human behavior gone horribly awry. Robert Pattinson gives an understated performance and seems to provide the only glimmer of what seems to be hope by the end of the film.

#13 - Too Old to Die Young Directed by Nicolas Winding Refn

Too Old To Die Young finds the celebrated auteur, Nicolas Winding Refn, sharing his view of humanity and society at its most despicable. Hate seems to seep out of the cracks of every neon-soaked frame in the limited series. Amazon gave Refn free reigns in creating his phantasmagoria.

All of his usual motifs and creative decisions are employed in full force with Too Old To Die Young, sometimes to an almost unbearable degree unless you are a truth Refn aficionado. His long takes, infinitesimal silences between lines, neon lighting, synth score and characters belonging to a criminal underworld are all utilized to great affect within the series.

I won’t lie, I found it to be some of Refn’s most challenging work to date. There are so many aspects to be found within this series that went over my head, it is art that demands a re-watch. And while I believe that Refn’s sensibilities are best conveyed through a film medium, the limited series allows Refn to explore what he wants to convey like an artist adding layer upon layer of colors onto a blank palette.

#12 - Age Out Directed by A.J. Edwards

A.J. Edwards returned in 2019 with his sophomore directorial effort - Age Out (originally titled Friday’s Child). Edwards has served as one of many creatives who worked on the editing team of Terrence Malick’s films in the last decade. Malick’s influence on the director is quite noticeable. Edwards directed his first film in 2014, The Better Angels, which was a decent debut. Whereas The Better Angels oftentimes felt too close of a mimicry of Malick’s style, Age Out utilizes certain aspects of the style while also allowing Edwards to have his own authorial voice.

The film centers around a young man named Richie as he is about to “age out” of the foster care facility in which he was raised - a frightening reality for countless youth in America and around the world. Richie is left to navigate the difficulties of the adult world at a mere eighteen years old, without any family or parental figures to help him along the way. He makes friends with a seedy townie who revels in delinquency and causing ruckus. Also, there is a romantic subplot between Richie and a girl named Joan, portrayed tenderly by Imogen Poots. This relationship seems to be the only saving grace in Richie’s life. However, a turn of events soon reveal that Richie’s traumatic past has gotten the better of him and threatens to doom his entire future.

Edwards shoots the film in a boxed style with a 1.33 : 1 aspect ratio. This aids with the sense of claustrophobia and paranoia that invades Richie’s life. As aforementioned, many of Malick’s motifs are used here: a floating steadicam guiding the audience along, hushed dialogue, montages with classical music, and even some voice overs. However, this aesthetic isn’t heavy handed in any way. In fact, it’s a joy to see directors whose work can almost go into the Malick canon as the auteur has had such an influence on a lot of young, upcoming directors. Age Out is both a coming of age story and a cry of warning for unhealed trauma.

#11 - An Elephant Sitting Still Directed by Hu Bo

An Elephant Sitting Still now holds the spot as the longest running film that I have ever seen. It sits in at just under four hours, and it completely delivers without ever feeling like it drags on unnecessarily. The film technically premiered in 2018 and is considered a 2018 film among critic circles. However, the epic didn’t get a widespread distribution in the U.S. until this year, so I am overlooking this discrepancy. The film was marked with somewhat of a controversy after the director Hu Bo took his own life right after post production was completed. Hu Bo is an author turned director and An Elephant Sitting Still marks his first foray into cinema. It’s one of the best directorial debuts I have ever seen.

The film centers around four different characters during the span of a single day. All of these characters are marked with some sort of tragedy, and many of their stories intertwine in a synchronistic fashion. It reminded me of other masterpieces such an Inarittu’s Amores Perros or Paul Thomas Anderson’s Magnolia. The film takes place in the industrial regions of Northern China, and the barren landscapes reflect an inner emptiness that emanates from all the characters.

There is a hollowness to these people as they navigate through life. An Elephant Sitting Still is nothing short of nihilistic. It’s an angry, desperate and hauntingly beautiful cry of pain from a director who was most certainly haunted by his own inner demons. It manages to be both an odyssey of human cruelty and a swan song from a young man who didn’t see a light at the end of the tunnel.

#10 - Joker Directed by Todd Phillips

“It’s getting crazier out there, isn’t it?” These are some of the first lines to be uttered in Todd Philip’s pitch-black satire on society. These lines are what best exemplify the themes that Philip’s was pushing: our society is profoundly sick, everything seems to be getting worse, we have no saviors in sight and hope isn’t always on the horizon. Just from these first utterances, it is clear that Philips is taking all of the political and socioeconomic turmoil of the last four years and has created a problem child that is Joker.

Joaquin Phoenix turns in one of his most disturbed and flawless performances yet - which is no surprise. However, I have yet to see him embody a character so genuinely as he did in The Master. But this isn’t Paul Thomas Anderson, this is Todd Phillips. And the fact that the comedy director even created this piece of art is something that still has me scratching my head. Subtlety is never at play in the film, and there are quite a few plot points that are a little too on-the-nose, even for me. However, all of the other elements redeem it and make this one of the best films of the year. The cinematography is pleasing for the eyes, and the menacing cello scores echoes an existential loneliness that I felt permeate my very being.

The last thirty minutes are exactly what I was hoping from this film. It’s a breath of fresh air to see Hollywood actually stick to creating a nihilistic film that doesn’t once try to water itself down.

#9 - Luce Directed by Julius Onah

Director Julius Onah decided to really step up his game with his latest film Luce. After the dumpster fire that was The Cloverfield Paradox (seriously, thanks for completely ruining what was becoming a dope anthology franchise), Onah has proven that he can be a master of his craft with the proper source material. In regards to the story being told, every element of the film works to its advantage: editing, performances, direction, and most importantly - the screenplay. It’s one of most well written screenplays I have come across in 2019. I immediately could tell from the dialogue that this movie must have been adapted from a stage play, and sure enough upon searching, I found out it was. Not all stage adaptations work, in fact I’d say more than half don’t end up being too effective, but this one stuck its landing and then more.

The story revolves around an overly concerned teacher who contacts Luce’s parents after he writes a paper that comes off as threatening. The paper in question seemed to hold a sentiment in which violence was called for in order to overcome colonialism. It’s important to note that Luce was a child soldier in his native country before being adopted by his parents - played by Naomi Watts and Tim Roth who both gave stunning performances. The rest of the story is an investigation into who their son actually is, which eventually results in moral debates regarding race and identity.

Luce is also a film that effectively helps the audience empathize with the main character, while at the same time questioning whether his intentions are genuine, or a coy to hide something much darker. The truth isn’t always black and white, and this was my biggest takeaway from the movie.

#8 - Monos Directed by Alejandro Landes

Monos felt like a hybrid of elements inspired from great works such as Lord of the Flies, Aguirre: The Wrath of God and Apocalypse Now. This is only the third film to be directed by Alejandro Landes, however it looks and feels as if it was created by a seasoned veteran of the industry.

A group of children guerilla soldiers hold base on a mountaintop where they keep a hostage, watch over a prized cow, and act as a defensive force against an unbeknownst group of enemies. There is little to no exposition in the film. Landes drops the audience off right in the middle of the chaos.

We aren’t exactly sure what these children are risking their lives to fight for, or why they are doing it, but it goes to show the conditions in which they were raised for them to find normalcy in the violent lifestyle of a guerilla soldier. The landscapes are absolutely gorgeous, and there are even a few scenes where I questioned how they accomplished such shots/stunts with a low budget.

#7 - The Beach Bum Directed by Harmony Korine

The Beach Bum might not be the best film that Harmony Korine has directed (it’s certainly no Spring Breakers), but it is easily the most fun. It’s been almost seven long years since Korine’s last project, and I had been waiting in eager anticipation to see what he would do next. He was originally going to do a gangster crime drama called The Trap, which is what I was really hoping from Korine, but that fell through and he ended up making one of the best stoner comedies I have ever had the pleasure of watching.

The Beach Bum is probably Korine’s most accessible and audience-friendly film he’s ever done. I say that lightly though, because it still remains just as highly divisive as his other work. The plot is loose. It follows the misadventures and antics of Moondog, a washed up poet and complete burnout. He is soon sent to rehab for all of his illegal activities, in which he breaks out with the help of Zac Efron’s character, who might have just been my favorite character of the film. Korine seems to have a consistently solid knack to create dirty, seedy and absolutely enthralling characters.

I am really happy that he decided to keep a very similar visual aesthetic to his previous masterpiece, Spring Breakers. Benoit Debie, who is the king of neon lighting and discombobulating camerawork, does a masterful job at creating the textured and visual world of The Beach Bum. Hell, it’s probably one of the main reasons why I decided to see it twice on the big screen.

I’m not the biggest fan of comedies, mostly because I have a very bizarre sense of humor and find most of them to be completely hollow. But Korine’s darkly nihilistic sense of humor suits my sensibilities perfectly and I found myself laughing out loud at various points throughout The Beach Bum. It’s a fun, and even slightly endearing film at certain points thanks to the presence of Isla Fisher’s character as the wife. I look forward to whatever Korine decides to do next. At this point, who knows where he will decide to go with his career. I just hope I don’t have to wait another five plus years to see more of his work.

#6 - A Hidden Life Directed by Terrence Malick

Malick isn’t “back” - he never left. A Hidden Life isn’t a “return to form”. His form has always been there, it’s been evolving since The Tree of Life. In fact, the structure and flow of this film is extremely reminiscent of his past three films.

How far are you willing to walk the path of righteousness, even when the path is marred with pain and unanswered sufferings? How long are you able to cling to your faith when it feels like all hope is lost? How do you fight for what is good, when everyone around you is telling you to submit to forces of absolute evil? These are some of just many questions explored in Terrence Malick’s newest tour de force. As with many of Malick’s recent work, these aren’t questions that are necessarily outright answered during the film. They are instead questions of morality meant to be repeated throughout the story, almost like a mantra or an ode to pure faith.

A Hidden Life is Malick’s first return to chronological and narrative-driven filmmaking since The New World. It has garnered praise almost universally among critics, and is regarded as his best film in ten years since The Tree of Life. While I am in the few who don’t exactly agree that this is Malick’s best film in a decade, I might even dare say that it is among my least favorites of Malick’s recent output, I am still not denying the sublime mastery instilled in every single shot of this film.

A Hidden Life tells the noble true story of Franz Jagerstatter, an Austrian conscientious objector, who refuses to fight for the Nazis in World War II due to his religious beliefs and is eventually executed for it. He is decades later deemed a martyr by the Church - all the more telling as to why Malick decided to tackle this story. The heart of this story is told through letters that Franz and his wife Fani exchange throughout his period spent as a political prisoner. Fani seems to be one of the only people in Franz’s life who sticks by his side. No matter how soul crushing Franz’s decision is for Fani, she understands him well enough to know that death is a better option than spoiling your soul and humanity. “Better to suffer injustices than to do it,” as one character painfully states in the film. And while I wasn’t as emotionally wrecked as I thought I would be by this film, I instead feel inspired by Franz’s commitment to his innate goodness. The back and forth perspectives of Franz and Fani are well executed - we as an audience get reprieves from the dreary confines of a prison cell to the majestic grandeur of the Austrian mountainside. The mountains and surrounding nature are characters within themselves. Near the finale, as Franz is face to face with his mortality, his mind wanders back to riding his motorcycle through the village on a sunny day as the mountains loom in the background. These are the final desires of a doomed man, something as simple as having the freedom to go outside and feel the grass beneath his feet - to experience the wonders of nature that most people don’t think twice about.

As mentioned earlier, it is far from my favorite of Malick’s oeuvre, and is not without its slight misgivings. It was stated that this was Malick’s return to “narratively focused” filmmaking. But he still utilized his signature elliptical style, and for me these moods oftentimes clashed and kept me at a distance emotionally. I rarely say this with a Malick film, but more of a reliance on dialogue would have worked wonders for me. There are quite a few sequences in which Malick opted for montage instead of a more fleshed out scene, which I believe would have further added to the power of the story.

These are all slight issues, and I myself might be a harsher critic than most simply because I hold Malick to such a high standard. Once you can give yourself to the film, A Hidden Life becomes a true zen experience. It managed to instill a sense of serene presence within myself. I felt very grateful for the most basic and common details of my life and this world. Malick’s work can be such a sensorial rush, and making even mundane objects and rooms look absolutely gorgeous, that it’s as if “everything is shining” in my own life after seeing the film. I look forward to returning to The Church of Malick very soon.

#5 - Ad Astra Directed by James Gray

Ad Astra got a lot of unwarranted hate this year in my opinion. It truly is a shame because I believe that James Gray has struck gold once again. While I don’t adore it to the same degree as I did Gray’s previous feature, The Lost City of Z, Ad Astra succeeds in being one of the most understated space films made in the 21st century.

It’s not exactly a wholly original story, or a plot that is something that we haven’t seen before. It’s the way Gray goes about telling this story and exploring these themes that makes it so very special. It’s not forcing any overreaching philosophical or ethical message onto the viewer, it’s not overly complicated or overly long, and rather than trying to present completely senseless physical explanations to the audience, it just accepts the fiction aspect as “science fiction”.

Hoyte Van Hoytema is a brilliant Director of Photography and he crafts some of the most breathtaking space shots in recent memory. He really captures the breathtaking enormity of the cosmis abyss. The scenes that take place near Nepture during the finale are jaw dropping. We see two characters wrestling each other while suspended midair and the camera pulls out to reveal their absolutely terrifying ordeal while splashes of Neptune’s purple color emanates behind them. What I enjoyed most about the film is this sort of serene, zen atmosphere that Gray creates through the visuals, the score and Brad Pitt’s heartfelt but quietly somber voiceover.

Pitt portrays a lonely, broken and existentially conflicted astronaut. He finds the quiet infinitude of space to be a reprieve from the chaos of conflict happening down on Earth. He feels more at home among the stars than he does on the planet in which he was born. His perspective reminds me of the blue God from Watchmen, Doctor Manhattan, when he’s dwelling peacefully on Mars and laments his feelings toward Earth and all the people on it: “I am tired of Earth. These People. I am tired of being caught in the tangle of their lives.”

James Gray’s Ad Astra, much like his previous two films before this, detail the pains and tribulations of undaunted pioneers as they explore foreign territories. The final monologue of Pitt’s washed over me like a gentle breeze: “I will rely on those closest to me, and I will share their burders, as they share mine. I will live and love.”

#4 - Anima Directed by Paul Thomas Anderson

Interprative dance, experimental film, and visual albums are three of my absolutely favorite art forms. The real MVP of modern cinema, Paul Thomas Anderson, has collaborated with one of the real MVP’s of modern music, Thom Yorke, to create a fifteen minute long music video on the power of human connection.

Thom Yorke plays a sleepy commuter, a passive bystander, a human sheep, a functioning cog in some great machinery. He makes brief eye contact with a pretty woman on the train, and notices that she leaves behind a briefcase. The rest of the short details his efforts as he dodges through obstacle after obstacle trying to find the woman and return the briefcase to her. I couldn’t believe my eyes as Anderson concocts the innermost desires of being seen, understood, and loved. The results are strokes of flashing light projections on concrete walls, bodies undulating as they separate and conjoin simultaneously, giddy humans running through fog, and lovers meeting in the union of hearts.

The final section, Dawn Chorus, is one of the most gentle and blissful experiences I have ever witnessed, let alone one in a film distributed by Netflix. Paul Thomas Anderson and Thom Yorke’s project had me understanding why I fell in love with this medium in the first place.

#3 - 1917 Directed by Sam Mendes

1917 takes the spot as my favorite war film of the decade. Personally, I found it to be one of the best war films ever made in general. What director Sam Mendes and DOP Roger Deakins have created is nothing short of a miracle. It’s the first “single take” war film to ever be made, mainly because this is a feat that is far from easy to pull off. Mendes and Deakins shot the movie in extreme long takes, and spliced them all together to make the whole movie come off as a seamless single take. These tracking shots never leave the side of the characters, we are in their footsteps on the journey the entire time.

1917 has a pretty simple premise: two young British soldiers are given a near impossible mission to cross enemy territory and deliver a message that will stop a deadly attack on over 1,500 soldiers - one of them being the brother of one of the two soldiers sent on the mission. The familial aspect contributes added emotional gravitas to the plot overall.

1917 is more of an experiential war film than it is a action or battle focused war film. It’s best to be seen in an IMAX because the sound design and the invasive tracking shots make you feel as if you are walking along these two soldiers as they face grave perils on their quest to deliver the message. I very much so enjoyed that they kept the plot small and intimate, without resorting to constant firepower to keep the audience engaged. That isn’t too say that the movie doesn’t have more than enough of its fair share of nail biting action sequences, and also plenty of gruesome shots depicting the carnage that World War I brought. These soldiers have to army crawl over rotting corpses, while rats and crows are seen pecking and chewing through the remains. The filmmaker doesn’t turn a blind eye to the horrors that war produced. To me, this is one of many reasons why I believe 1917 is superior to other popular recent war films such as Dunkirk. I don’t want my war films to be sanitized. War needs to be portrayed as it truly is - acts of complete inhumanity.

Dare I say that 1917 is Come and See for the 21st century. While Come and See is most definitely the superior film, there were echoes of the classic Soviet Union masterpiece that ring throughout 1917. Maybe it’s the expertly crafted tracking shots, maybe it’s the maddening use of sound design/editing, or maybe it’s the shell shocked expression that is engraved on one of the main characters faces near the finale.

1917 does an amazing job of being very loud, but also utilizing silence in certain scenes to great affect. The juxtaposition is most expertly crafted during one scene that involved flares popping off in the sky, lighting up the ruins of a city, as one the characters runs away from enemy fire. It’s an absolutely exhilarating scene. I ended up bawling by the end of the movie, mostly just because of all the pent up anxiety and distress I felt throughout. You don’t see many films that take place during World War I anymore. But 1917 shows it is not a time period to be forgotten about.

#2 - The Lighthouse Directed by Robert Eggers

I had been eagerly anticipating Robert Eggers’s follow-up film after he released The VVitch back in 2016. At first it was reported that he was going to be doing an adaptation of Nosferatu, which I still think would be a great story for Egger’s to adapt, especially after witnessing what he instead decided to make - The Lighthouse.

Shot gorgeously in black & white on gritty 16mm celluloid, the film looks like it comes from a completely different era (the dialogue as well). There were many shots that had a similar look to some of Bergman’s early work on the Faroe islands.

The Lighthouse has a fairly simple plot. Robert Pattinson plays Winslow who goes to work for a seasoned lighthouse keeper named Thomas who is played by Willem Dafoe. Winslow is new to being a wickie and Thomas takes him under his wing to show him the ropes. Thomas orders him about incessantly in a brute and abusive manner.

There is a minimalism to the plot, however all of the other elements are done so perfectly that the daily grueling routines of these wickies becomes nothing short of hypnotizing. The sound design and score ratchets up the harsh conditions of the island. Wind sounds like its constantly shrieking outside - a reminder of the unease that seems to be building to an overflow. The dialogue, diction, and accents are all completely authentic to the time period and setting that the story is taking place in. Eggers commitment is second to none when it come to detail and authenticity with aspects such as the character’s accents and inflections. A real case of cabin fever befalls the two men who both seem to become obsessed with the mystical light that emanates at the top of the light house.

While I really enjoyed The VVItch, I absolutely adored The Lighthouse and find it to be a much stronger work from Eggers. I think what I vibed with most about it is that the movie doesn’t feel the need to be confined to one particular genre. Whereas The VVitch was literally about a witch bringing misery to a Puritan family, it was constricted to be somewhat of a horror film. However, The Lighthouse manages to be many different tones: a fever dream surrealist film, an arthouse horror, a slapstick comedy, and a nautical retelling of many ancient sea myths. And all of these different tones worked together and bounced off each other in perfect harmony.

I found myself both laughing and completely repulsed by the images I was seeing - especially within the last act of the film which succeeded in shaking me up and making me feel both bewildered and slightly nauseated. It ends up being a gritty, dirty, and uncompromising journey into total psychosis. By the conclusion of the film, the audience comes to the same realization as the two characters - there really was enchantment in the light after all.

#1 - Waves Directed by Trey Edward Shults

Waves is an operatic cry for people to be better to one another. It is by far my favorite film of the year, and I truly believe it to be one of the finest films ever made. It earned itself a well deserved spot in my Top 25 Favorite Films of the Decade.

Trey Edward Shults started out his cinematic career on a strong note with Krisha. He delivered once again with his sophomore debut - It Comes at Night (even if I do find it to be easily the weakest of out the three he has directed). But for me, Waves is where Shults really experiments with his style to such a fine tuned degree that we find the director not calming down his vision or becoming more “grounded”, instead he expands upon his prowess with one of the most powerful family dramas I’ve ever seen.

Shults is another director who made my list this year who is somewhat of a protege of Terrence Malick. Shults worked as an intern for Malick on both The Tree of Life and Voyage of Time. It is quite clear the influence that Malick has on Shult’s vision. But Shults, even more-so than Edwards who also made my list this year, has taken Malick’s inspiration and created something wholly his own.

Shults has created an experiential rollercoaster of actions, consequences and the toxic fallout than can come from such actions. Waves is essentially two films in one. The first half is the energetic, chaotic and traumatic first half in its depiction of toxic masculinity taken too far, to the eventual accident that changes all of the characters lives. The camera is constantly floating in this portion, or shall I even say flying through the air and around the characters. The camera has no limits in what it can do and that along with the editing, and most noticeably the insanely perfect soundtrack/score, this portion ends up feeling like one prolonged anxiety attack.

The second half of the film switches character POVs masterfully. There’s a psychedelic shift of perspective from the brother’s eyes covered in flashing lights from the back of a police car to his little sister’s eyes in the back of their parent’s car (you have to have seen the film to completely understand what I am referring to of course). This second half of the film is where the camera slows down a little. This portion is more character focused and less interested in being flashy through its aesthetic. We get more dialogue, more character details, and a lot more tears in this half. It’s like a long cathartic release after experiencing an hour of trauma and abuse. It succeeds in tearing you apart, to only slowly piece you back together.

As mentioned previously, Shults’s soundtrack decisions were the cherry on top for me. Tame Impala, Animal Collective & Tyler the Creator are three of my favorite artists and their music is utilized perfectly within the story. What made this film so special to me, other than the fact it all takes place in the state in which I grew up in, was that no other film has better reminded me of my own humanity in years. This film makes me want to be a better brother, a better friend, a better son, and a better person in general. You never know when a single moment can shatter your entire world. In the end, it left me with a strong message that struck me to my core: appreciate what you have in life, and tread carefully.

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sharkfish · 5 years

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ps i loved this one

(rereading bookmarks edition part 2)

(part 1)

i’ve been rereading stories from my bookmarks as a comfort thing. i’m getting real deep in there to stuff i haven’t (re)read for years, and damn do i have good taste. the ones i’ve read recently that you should, too:

(under the cut so i’m not that asshole that makes you scroll past an endless post)

Best Laid Plans by Persephoneshadow

Things are going well for Dean: he's landed the biggest design job of his architectural career and is about to get final approval on the project despite how difficult the development company, personified by Castiel Novak, has made it. It's not bad for a moody omega...except things are also going terribly for Dean because he has to get in a plane and fly to a meeting, and course ends up in heat a few hours before. Luckily, Castiel is there to help and both men discover the good that can come when nothing goes quite as intended.

i don’t know why i’m such a ho for stories where dean thinks cas hates him, but cas secretly adores him and is just a little “rusty” on his “people skills.” i’m also a ho for stories where dean is a gd skilled genius but his dumb ass still thinks his work sucks and/or anything good is due to other people instead of himself. and also, heat boning.

Confessions of a Cam Boy by MsCaptainWinchester (rons_pigwidgeon)

Dean runs a cam show to pay his way through marketing school, but he's about to start an internship that he doesn't know will change his life. Watching Dean's show is Castiel's favorite way to wind down after a stressful day at Sandover Bridge & Iron. When Cas comes to work one day and finds his favorite cam boy setting coffee on his desk, he is completely thrown. Will Dean finish his internship without knowing his favorite viewer is his new boss, or will he be able to see through Cas' non-existent poker face and figure it out?

omg poor cas is soooo awkward and dean is weirded out about how much his new boss seems to dislike him and then it’s super sexy >:)

For Science by shiphitsthefan

“Think of it like an experiment," says Dean. "You’re testing a hypothesis as to whether or not a desirable response can be achieved through the stimulation of the anus via the application of a willing volunteer’s muscular hydrostat.”

Cas raises an eyebrow. “Are you actually trying to use the scientific method to talk me into letting you lick my asshole?”

everyone is such adorable nerds in this one. it’s a fic about rimming, but it’s also about love and discovering yourself and acceptance. it explores cas’s realization through his connection with dean that he’s not straight up ace but more grey/demi - and that doesn’t mean he was “faking” being ace up until he met dean.

Friends with Benefits with Tentacles by andimeantittosting (Saylee)

Dean's never been embarrassed about his porn collection before, but that was before he found Cas holding his prized copy of Sweet Princess Asuka and the Tentacles of Pleasure. Dean finds himself sweating bullets—because this is Cas, sweet, nerdy Cas. Cas, his friend. Cas, his roommate. Cas, his—only slightly out-of-control—crush.

Cas, with his big, blue eyes and muscular arms and perpetual sex hair.

Cas, with his tentacles.

The last thing he expects is for Cas to suggest they experiment together.

there are not enough tentacle fics out there and i 100000% approve of this addition to the tag. i love that dean is out there legitimately studying porn, and the tentacles are obviously super fun, and there were parts where my heart hurt so bad, all around a damn fine fic.

Grown-Ups Making Grown-Up Choices by Carrieosity

Dean is a grown-ass man - he can take perfectly good care of himself, thank you very much. Except that sometimes the easier or more fun choices aren't always the right or best ones, and, all right, maybe thinking ahead and working the long game isn't his strongest suit. It's fine! He's fine.

When he meets Castiel, he realizes that flying by the seat of his pants may not be the best way to attract the super-serious (gorgeous, funny, genius) Alpha. Dean's shrink has been telling him he needs to start making "grown-up choices," and if that's what he has to think about in order to make Cas fall for him, then he'll give it a whirl.

i LOVE this fic (series). i feel so hard for dean feeling like he’s too old for his life to still be a mess, but i also felt sad for him that he thought he had to make all these hardcore changes - basically turn himself into a different person - to be worthy of cas’s attentions. i fucking adore cas in this, and i nearly cried just thinking about all the damn peppers they eat, and i want to read it again right now.

If I Run by Anonymous

"Dean Winchester is a red-blooded American male. He lifts all the things. He aims for functional strength. He counts his macros and makes fun of curlbros. He is not a member of the Tarahumara tribe and he will not read Born to Run, no matter how many times Sam tells him to, because Starting Strength is the only book Dean will ever fucking need."

***

Wherein a friendly competition with the mysterious ThursdaysAngel turns into a sexy selfie-trading spree that motivates Dean Winchester to train for his first marathon.

i really really love this fic and reread it pretty often tbh. it only became “anonymous” pretty recently and i’m so curious about why!! regardless, this fic is a really great time!!!

It's Always More Than Once (Before It Takes) by squeemonster

The first time it happens, it's because of boredom. Or, at least that's what Dean tells himself to justify it. Boredom and Dean Winchester are a dangerous combination, especially when you factor in beer, a raging libido, and laziness.

dean: my dudes, is it gay to do sexy stuff with your male bff? cuz i’m totally straight. but also, having sex with my male bff.

I Wanna Get Outside (Of Me) by emwebb17

Dean is a novice in the dom/sub world asked by his employer as a desperate last resort to be a sub for his recluse of a brother, Castiel. Castiel is a diagnosed OCD suffering from PTSD and agoraphobia, mysophobia, and dystychiphobia. Needless to say—he’s a mess who hasn’t stepped out of his home in literally seven years. The only times Gabriel can see traces of the way his brother used to be is when he feels in control—specifically when he has control over a sub. However, due to his idiosyncrasies and paranoia, keeping a sub around has been impossible. Enter Dean, who’s not a very traditional submissive, to try his hand at subbing for the hermit.

you know how sometimes you read a fic, and it takes ages to get yourself out of that world? even though you’re finished, you’re still right there with him? this is one of those fics. i reread it a couple weeks ago and fell asleep thinking about it last night. i cry a lot reading this one.

Living in Agony by ChasingRabbits

Dean Winchester's life is... well, it's not great. He's a gym teacher, he's in his thirties, and he can't seem to keep any part of his life straight. When the aftermath of a one-night stand goes awry, Dean is dragged kicking and screaming out of his cozy little closet and into the harsh light of reality.

Enter: Castiel Novak, the new history teacher, who knows full well that life gets crappy when you don't allow yourself to live it in the way it needs to be lived.

there aren’t a lot of stories that deal with themes of mental illness, and a lot of them read like an episode of degrassi where everything wraps up in 30min to never be discussed again. this story is honest in that there’s no easy out. there’s medication and therapy and supportive people, but that’s not always enough. it’s a story about how you don’t have to be mentally ill to be fucked up, and while people can’t fix each other, they can help each other. content note: references to a pre-story suicide attempt.

Oddly Shaped Empty by jemariel

Dean grew up thinking -- knowing -- he'd be an alpha.

Until he failed to present. As a beta, he has no mating cycle, no noticeable pheromones, none of the physical markers that are so important in a world of alphas and omegas. He's out of place. How is he supposed to navigate his relationships and find love when he doesn't fit into the neatly-defined boxes he's used to?

By the time he meets his new roommate, Castiel, he's more or less given up on finding a mate. He wears his secondary gender like a chip on his shoulder. But you never know what the future holds, who will come into your life, and how they might change it forever.....

Queer themes, finding identity, reconciling the past, and a whole lot of smut.

y’all know @jemariel is a gd genius, but i’m particularly obsessed with their fics that use abo to explore queer identify & experiences. i hold my breath reading most of this fic and also cry.

Steal my Breath by Sincestiel

“Tighter, Dean, please,” Cas urges throwing his head back to rest on Dean’s shoulder. Dean squeezes. He doesn’t know why Cas wants this or even what the appeal is, but he always comes harder when he’s struggling to breathe.

what’s on the tin. a quick lil breathplay fic that is thoroughly enjoyable.

Unsolicited by Dangerousnotbroken

In which Dean Winchester gets an unsolicited dick pic from an unknown sender which is both totally not disappointing in that it's a really nice dick pic, and incredibly disappointing in that it's clearly a downloaded picture of his favorite porn star.

There's absolutely no way it's actually this porn star sending it to him, right?

Right?

this is a destiel classic and i feel like anyone who isn’t new here has probably read it. but here’s your reminder that this is a great fic and you should (re)read it.

Wordplay by Dangerousnotbroken @dangerousnotbroken

“I don’t understand why talking dirty is such a big deal for you humans,” Cas complains, apropos of nothing.

it’s a “cas learning about sex” and also dirty talk, which are both things i’m really into!! and DNB is a genius so that’s even better.

if you enjoy these fics (and you should), please give the writer some love via kudos and/or comments. <3

ps - as always, if i didn’t tag the writer and you know their tumblr, please tag in the comments. i don’t think there’s a writer alive who wouldn’t be happy to be on a rec list. :)

#sharklist #sharkrecs

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