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saintsenara · 6 months

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Do you think there’s any situation in which Sirius/Snape could work as a ship if James Potter was alive/around?

I love both Sirius/Snape and Sirius/James (platonic, romantic and everything in between) as ships so I’d love to see a universe in which the 3 of them have a lovely time together but I dunno if I can picture it. I can mainly see Sirius/Snape working with James and Lily dead and Sirius post Azkaban because it really brings him off his pedestal and leaves that shared grief and longing for that intensity of companionship.

I guess part of the problem is trying to imagine Sirius being able to even remotely care about or prioritise someone else with James in the picture, even if James is only giving platonic on his end. But then doubly so if that person was someone James had a massive rivalry with and doesn’t want near his wife. (Although if he knew Snape wasn’t interested in Lily like that maybe he’d chill out about it? Or would only child syndrome kick in and he’d hate him even more for trying to “steal” Sirius from him because it would be really shocking and maybe low key traumatic for James to have any less than 110% of Sirius’ attention…again even if they were only platonic… 🤔)

If it was going to work I could see it maybe more after Hogwarts when they’ve all grown up a bit and James and Lily are wrapped up in their family and Sirius is a bit adrift at adjusting to not being able to have all of James all of the time.

The closest I’ve seen to making something like it work was a fic where Snape was horribly tortured for killing Peter in front of Voldemort to stop him telling the secret and it left him vegetative for years and the Potters cared for him and eventually Sirius took over so they could go live their married lives. I was really interested in where they were going with it and pretty sold on that being a situation in which it could end up all happy families but unfortunately the fic was kinda preslash and stopped before it explored how things would go romantically for Sirius/Snape after Snape regained his consciousness.

Would love to hear your thoughts on any scenarios in which you think the 3 of them could get along swimmingly!

My other thought was maybe if Sirius had been put in Slytherin and James decided to talk his way into Slytherin to be together, they might eventually adopt Snape into their wider friendship group for his dry wit the way they did Remus. I feel like James was waiting his whole life to have both a best friend and his own gang and would make one wherever he was with the best of what he had available (lbr Peter is hardly a stellar pick), and without the “he’s evil because he’s Slytherin” divide they could potentially find the Dark curses Sev knows fun/useful against whoever else they decide to bully instead, might notice in the shared dorm how poor he is and get a pity thing going like they did for Remus’ werewolf issue (which Snape’s pride would hate but he’d probably milk knowing how he was with Lucius?), and if Snape was gay and as devoted to a crush on Sirius as he was to the canon one on Lily and therefore willing to do some wing maning for James with Lily to keep in James and Sirius good graces, it could really cement his value as a pal….and if Snape had other options for well connected friends who could get him out of Cokeworth (picturing Fleamont setting up summer internships for James’ unfortunate looking poor but impeccably mannered pal at Sleekeasys R and D department 🥹) I’m sure Snape would be happy to not bother with the blood supremacist half of his year who want his childhood best friend dead (unless we think he joined to be in with them as a way to keep Lily safe, but I think that would be more a rationale he’d give himself or her later to justify his behaviour) ……..but anyway even if all of this elaborate scenario could happen so that the 3 of them would be pally, I still can’t picture Sirius being able to love/fancy someone more than James if James is right there, even if it’s only platonic on James’ end.

Unless I guess we take a reading of canon that Sirius was so mean to Snape because he fancied him madly and was furious about it, or because he could sense the queerness in him he hated/was being told by family to squash out in himself. Then maybe they’d have a special type of connection that could be powerful in a way Sirius wouldn’t be able to share with a straight James? Would that be enough though for Sirius never see one without the other Black? 🤔

I do think if that was the friendship group and they made Snape the secret secret keeper instead of Peter James and Lily might have lived! (And Snape might have let himself get killed keeping the secret 🥲) …although that said if Peter had an inkling James Potter might go to Slytherin he probably wouldn’t have fought the hat so hard and would have still been in the gang too!

I’ve really gone on a tangent here but yeah so interested in any scenarios you could see it working, I think about this a lot and I love the way you think about HP things! 👏

thank you very much for the ask, anon!

this is a question which i've wondered about for a while, which i'm going to answer with a tentative... yes.

because i do agree with you that one of the things which makes snack-in-the-90s really work is their shared grief over the loss of james and lily [and their shared guilt and desire to punish themselves for the role they each played in their deaths] and how it contributes to them being one of the series' most interesting narrative mirror pairings.

but it's equally true that they're narrative mirrors even without the grief aspect simply because of their mirrored love - whether you wish to interpret this as platonic or not - for one half of james and lily, and the quiet devastation [even though sirius expresses this very differently to snape] they feel when the two pair off.

and so i do think - in a world in which both james and lily survive [i don't think it can be either/or] - there is the potential for snape and sirius to find themselves drawn together by a grief which is less profound than that caused by james and lily's deaths, but is still transformational in a way that i think is often overlooked in fandom: the grief of realising that the person you love doesn't feel the same way.

because i love platonic prongsfoot and platonic snily as much as the next girl, and i think that the grief i'm describing can apply just as much to platonic love as to romantic love.

but i prefer - and, indeed, i'm on the record as being convinced this is the text's actual intention - to read both snape's love for lily and sirius' love for james as romantic.

and - obviously - the intensity of this feeling prevents either snape or sirius getting a grip while they're in their teens [especially if they're both also grappling with the idea that they're not straight - i'm afraid i've never bought the fanon that the wizarding world is more enlightened when it comes to sexuality]. it makes perfect sense that - as you say - it's impossible for the nineteen-year-old sirius to imagine caring about someone the way he care about james, and to convince himself that the only way he can live his life is to spend decades pining nobly from afar, never letting on how much his heart aches.

but one of the great tragedies of the canonical snape and sirius is that they get stuck in a state of arrested development from their lives - essentially - stopping when they're both twenty-one. there's an inherent pettiness to their interactions in canon - the obsessing over schoolboy experiences, the fact that snape finds himself stuck at school and sirius finds himself stuck in his childhood home - which other characters clearly don't quite understand [dumbledore saying to harry at the end of order of the phoenix that sirius was too sensible to be goaded by snape seems dismissive in the context of what we - the readers - have seen, but it makes perfect sense that - from dumbledore's perspective - a thirty-six-year-old man wouldn't still care about playground beef from twenty years ago.]

in a world where james and lily live, snape and sirius get a chance to act their actual ages - and with that, sirius gets to learn how to accept that his role in james' life will change as his best friend settles into being a husband and father and snape either gets to learn how to stop pining for lily from afar or how to start trying to make amends for his treatment of her.

and james and lily also get to grow up too - to recognise how their priorities towards their friends will change as they form a family of their own and to see their school days [and their behaviour during them] more objectively the further removed from them they become. james at eighteen would rather die than have anything less than 110% of sirius' attention. james at thirty has other things to worry about.

i think that it would only work in a scenario where snape and sirius encountered each other again after having left hogwarts [i like the slytherin!james suggestion - and i'd be interested to see how you'd write it - but i personally think that there's no way on earth james is having snape anywhere near him until he's - for want of a better term "won" their rivalry over lily]. but i also think it would only work if that scenario was decades after they graduated, rather than years, and that the two don't meet again until they're - at least - in their early forties.

i think you could do something really quite interesting with james in that setting - as he realises, as his children reach adulthood and start to fly the nest, that sirius is chronically single and decides the project he wants for his middle age is to find his friend true love.

never expecting that his friend will bail from a date he arranges with a lovely woman and end up hiding in the leaky cauldron talking to snape - but then being mature enough [after some running around screaming "snape? snape?" at lily] to think that if sirius is happy, then he is.

and on this point, both sirius and snape canonically struggle to be realistic about how they see themselves and their worth - for example, in how they both refuse to believe that they could successfully atone for their roles in causing james and lily's deaths. when this is combined with the fact that sirius grew up in a community which is obsessed with blood and lineage - and how that blood and lineage is continued - and snape grew up with his primary masculine role-model being a violent man who was presumably also a homophobe, i do think that both of them would find it difficult to be open about their sexuality, especially since - in a world where they get to live normally after 1981 - they would be starting to understand themselves as queer during the aids crisis [which i refuse to believe doesn't impact the wizarding world, because i loathe the implication of canon that wizards are resistant to muggle diseases].

i think you can plausibly write them as both still in the closet in the 90s/00s - and for sirius especially to be worried about james' reaction if he found out he was interested in men. [which is a dimension often left out of things which examine sirius as queer and james as straight. lots of queer men worry - sometimes unnecessarily, sometimes, sadly, justifiably - that being open about their sexuality with straight male friends will cause those friends to back off from their platonic relationships due to a homophobic fear that queer men will automatically interpret platonic physical and emotional intimacy as romantic.]

but - whatever else he is - james clearly isn't a bigot. and i think he could once again get over the fact that sirius has shacked up with snape [snape?] in order to be proud that sirius was finally comfortable with who he is.

[and yes, i do genuinely think that sirius and snape's canonical vibe can be read as having some level of sexual attraction in it - they are both just so obsessed with each other that it's giving "why do i have this hyper-intense need to get in this other boy's face oh wait that's why"...]

#asks answered #asenora meta #asenora's opinions on ships #starprince #snirius #sirius black #severus snape

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ruby-whistler · 3 years

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(quicksandblock) hi! I just left you a giant wall-of-text response on your Dream post, and though I think it came across well enough, I just want to state my lack of hostile intent over here as well lol. I know stuff like this that people feel strongly about can get very tense so I just wanted to make doubly certain you know I'm not trying to pick a fight or anything. it kind of sucks that I feel like I need to clarify that but that's fandom culture for you sometimes :P

also, I would love to talk to you about Dream characterization. I think I disagree with you on a lot of different points and I love his character, so I'm very interested in understanding your perspective!

hey, hello! found a c!dream enthusiast/enjoyer, that’s cool, hi! :]

[copied part i put in front of each reply, hence different capitalization]

Alright, so first as a quick disclaimer, I’m going to put a summary of the original post’s points, just to ensure that we’re on the same page;

The post does say:

- don’t dehumanize c!Dream because it continuously hurts people who relate to and/or sympathize with him, also dehumanization in general is an inherently wrong mindset

- don’t attack people who sympathize with him because he’s a victim of abuse besides other things

The post never says:

- you cannot hate c!Dream and not sympathizing with him is wrong

- the things c!Dream has done are to any degree excused

- don’t dehumanize c!Dream because he’s a good person

- people who dehumanize c!Dream are real life abuse apologists

If you read the post and didn’t get these points from it, i advise you to reread it as I made pretty much all of these abundantly clear.

[end of disclaimer]

i never said anyone could infringe on his human rights! i… literally never said that! i said “they ignore” when characters do it, but that was a run-on sentence, i get how that might’ve been easily misunderstood. but yes, he’s a fictional character, i’d never said people could actually hurt him or anything in that sense.

the thing is, i still find them saying they enjoy it… wrong? the people yelling in tommy’s chat for c!dream to hurt him more were freaking victim blaming pricks, and if what they did was the widespread fandom opinion it would be hurting actual people with trauma. i ask people to look at the c!dream situation with the same severity, because it’s actually happening and it’s highly disturbing, not just from principle, but because of what it leads to within the community.

sorry for comparing his situation to c!tommy, but narratively i believe the prison arc is a deliberate parallel to exile, and comparing his situation to someone they’ve not dehumanized seems to be the only way to knock sense into some people.

i am happy you don’t seem to be one of the people who dehumanize him. you’re not the target audience of this post - neither are abuse victims who project onto him. i know people who c!tommy reminds of their abuser (because of personality traits), or even c!quackity, that’s fine. they’re totally free to hate their respective character, of course, without being,, actually right about them. that being said, majority of this fandom is dehumanizing c!dream and being mad at people sympathizing with him “on behalf of the abuse victims”, not actual victims themselves, and by doing this they are unknowingly hurting other people rather than helping anything, and spreading misinformation as well as making a lot of fans in general uncomfortable. i believe this is something that needs to change in the community.

hating him is fine, but group-based dehumanization in my mind is not. if you go on twitter and search “c!dream” and see 100 people saying they wish the abuse victim you project onto is hurt more (this is not a twitter thing, c!dream tag is the same thing, a majority of the crit is untagged but it,, doesn’t really matter because even tagged hate riles up more people) that freaking sucks and is something that the community needs to work on, not shoved under the rug and pretend it wasn’t there because some people tag it.

“the abuse victims who are hurt by people saying they should be sympathetic towards Dream are in fact just as hurt as the abuse victims who relate to Dream and are hurt by people saying his evil.”

this is not wrong. it’s right actually, but i’m not talking about this fandom calling him evil/unable to be sympathized with/irredeemable. i mean, that’s hurtful dehumanization as well, but this community doesn’t “say he’s evil” it “says he deserves to keep being horribly abused and/or die”.

and… i wasn’t talking about/saying abuse victims should sympathize with him either? i’ve said like five times that people can hate him as much as they want, but dehumanization is another thing. it’s the majority of this community (this post wasn’t targeting abuse victims in the slightest) taking away his positive human qualities, hence believing he doesn’t deserve human rights, and turning him into some sort of punching bag or personification of evil, which i find deeply disturbing since he’s being related to by abuse victims, and also blatantly incorrect to the character.

so, you’d be right, if the situation was what you described. it… really isn’t. the dream smp fanbase isn’t populated by abuse victims in any corner. it’s two small groups, one of them hurt (undeservingly) by a few and the other one hurt (no more or less undeservingly) by a majority of the fandom without anyone batting an eye.

and this post isn’t even about abuse victims in the first place; it’s about dehumanization. while its impact plays a big role in why i wrote this, things like these being widespread in the fandom makes so many people uncomfortable or pressured not to sympathize with a recently made sympathetic character that they might (but could not) relate to. relating to him myself, i might not have a say in this, but my compassion in general made me switch over to the c!dream sympathetic people, not anyone in the community or projection.

the results i relayed here weren’t the only results of the survery. people mentioned pandora’s vault as their reasons for being dream apologists,, over and over and over again. a lot of them mentioned the fandom response specifically.

it’s making the fandom not only unsafe to a small group of traumatized people, but also fans in general, who are equally as important to feel comfortable. hell, the reason dream apologists are such a tight-knit community that accepts little to no outside feedback is because of the hatred that is endlessly nurtured outside, that makes people feel anxious or not safe just for sympathizing with a victim of abuse.

i myself find this a problem that people should attempt to change beyond using crit tags more. feel free to not agree with that, but a lot of affected people do.

i agree the disc finale was actually cathartic! well, that’s a lie, i used to hate c!dream’s guts before that but that was the very instance where i saw a person behind the mask and went “oh, this is a whole mess isn’t it”, but it was,, cathartic to a lot of other people that didn’t use to have intense empathy to inanimate objects as children djskdjsk (i was a weird kid and still am, don’t mind that)

do you know what is cathartic? when a dog terribly bites a child, gets kicked away and gets put in a cage. do you know what isn’t cathartic? …that dog getting repeatedly beaten, starved and abused while trapped in said cage. even in fiction, and i say that as someone who was terribly bitten by a dog.

i don’t mind fictional characters suffering - frick, angst is my jam, i’ll write a character dying over and over again and have fun, but people justify that or make fun of people who don’t by saying openly that they enjoy it,, because he’s done bad things.

here comes the double standard. the exile arc wasn’t cathartic just because tommy burnt down a house, because hell, that wasn’t fair retribution. same goes for dream.

there is a difference between enjoying dark media (something i do frequently and is something i like doing) and open dehumanization and often normalized harassment of people who don’t do the same or condemn that. that is something that in my mind shouldn’t be a mainstream thing in the community.

to be fair, people saying an abuse victim no longer being hurt is “bad writing” or “insensitive” as i’ve seen people say would probably piss me off, but i’m,, not going to harass them. maybe a passive-aggressive vague-post if enough big accounts do it, but i think that’s justified. feel free to disagree - i still respect abuse victims who wouldn’t like that, but people who just don’t want the writers to humanize a character they’ve dehumanized will probably grind my gears.

this community,, isn’t working like this. i wrote this because people are repeatedly being hurt by the community or feel bad in it because of widespread opinions and dehumanization of a character that is as of late written to be sympathetic to the audience. that’s not a disagreement, the people who are actually sympathetic are a minority in the fandom, which would be fine with me, if they weren’t constantly invalidated, triggered and harassed as a direct result of the dehumanization discussed in this post.

besides the fact that the principle of dehumanization applied to c!dream is wrong - and if people find themselves doing that, it’s good for them to find a way to realize that, such as this post, because projection =/= dehumanization, and this post is targeting one, not the other - this is why i wrote this post. i still believe my points are valid and important for this fandom to consider.

you know, we could talk about the characterization right now - but after this i’m going onto a two month long hiatus for the sole purpose of studying the character. i’m not joking, this is what i’m dedicating my summer to. since i’m also closing my asks because of this, i can write this down and @ you when i’m done? :D i’d love to talk about him but i’m going to have so much more evidence after this, so maybe we can put this off for a while if you don’t mind! of course feel free to continue the dehumanization debate in a string of reblogs since it’s pretty much a different debate entirely.

( @zrenia @caketexturepack just tagging some people who responded to your response and might be interested in the continuation of the debate - also curious anon i saw your two asks i was just busy djsjdks please don’t spam about people who replied to me, i have a bad memory but i write this stuff down, actually )

#my asks #discourse #tw dehumanization #tw abuse #tw torture #tw animal abuse #long post

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bellatrixobsessed1 · 4 years

Text

Femslash February Day 9

Prompt: Shame Fandom: Avatar Pair: Azula/Suki Summary: Azula gets braces which causes her another struggle with self-image.

“Come on just one tiny little smile?” Suki requests.

Azula’s frown only deepens and she shakes her head. At any rate, her mouth is too sore for a smile.

“Not even a really quick one, like a two second flash?”

“No.” Azula mumbles.

“You’re cranky today.”

She imagines that Suki would be at least a little cranky too if she had her mouth poked and prodded at all morning. She would be even more cranky if she came out of the ordeal looking at least a percentage or so less attractive. She has decided that she won’t be smiling until the braces come off and no amount of coaxing would be changing that.

“Come on, you promised.”

“I did not.”

“You did so.” Suki insists. “You said that if I gave you the rest of my cinnamon sweet rolls that you would show me your braces.”

Azula clears her throat. “Yes, Suki. There is a term for what I did.”

“And what’s that.”

“Lied.”

“Seriously.” Suki crinkles her nose. She elbows Azula in the ribcage, “come on, I want to see them.”

“For what?” She grumbles. Likely so she can decide whether or not it would be worth it to kiss her ever again. Azula wagers that she will decide that it is not worth the risk of possibly cutting her lips on metal bits. Azula has already cut her own tongue on them. It has been only an hour and they have already made her suffer at least a day’s worth of pain.

“You can’t just never smile again.”

“Mai hasn’t smiled once since I’ve met her, it is very possible to never smile again.” Azula assures her. “And this abysmal school will make it very easy to stick to it.”

Suki laughs. “Well, what if, one day, we’re at tennis practice and Katara accidentally hits herself in the face with the racket again?”

“Then she’ll have to get more creative, because it’s only funny the first time.” Azula replies.

“Come on, Azula, I’m sure that they’re cute. TyLee would probably like them.”

“TyLee thinks that everything is cute and you are obligated to say so.”

“Obligated?”

“Because you are my girlfriend. Yue said that, that is one of the rules of a relationship…”

Suki rolls her eyes. “Yue lives in a daydream world and thinks that a relationship has to be all fluffy. That’s why she has a crush on Chan.”

Azula leans up against her locker and looks down the hall. The last buses are pulling out of the parking lot. “We should head to the courts…”

“We should. And we will. After you show me your braces.”

“Suki, they look ridiculous.”

“Wonderful!” She gives a mischievous grin. “They match well with the rest of your face, you like matching stuff.”

Her face flushes and she very nearly swats Suki with her assigned reading novel. Instead she tucks it into her backpack and folds her arms across her chest. She is already something of an awkward loner, the last thing she had needed was this. A mouthful of metal is probably just enough to tip the scales towards the lower end of the social spectrum.

And if she takes a tennis ball to the face it will hurt doubly so when the metal scrapes her lips. If she bites down the wrong way… She won’t even be able to enjoy her mochi. There is a whole list of things that she can’t have anymore. And the likelihood of food getting stuck in them… She bunches her nose in disgust.

She hasn’t even seen Zuzu yet. He is probably itching to make fun of her for her predicament, with or without having seen the braces. Spirits know that he has years of teasing and jesting to get back at her for.

“It’s shameful.”

Suki rolls her eyes. “Drama club is that way.” She thumbs down the hall.

Azula narrows her eyes. “I didn’t want to get them…” but she didn’t want misaligned teeth either… She wishes that she hadn’t been born with such an unfortunate dental situation.

.oOo.

Azula is stubbornly true to her word. Suki hasn’t seen her smile once since getting her braces. Pictures are almost entirely out of the question unless they let her do one of those little close-mouthed half smiles.

All of her attempts to make Azula smile naturally just miss the mark. Or maybe they haven’t missed; she thinks that Azula has spent too much time training herself to laugh in such a refined way as to not show her teeth.

Suki sighs, she is quite certain that she is going to have to find a quiet spot in the bleachers and sit her down for a little talk. The serious, heavy sort that she is no good at. The sort that involves bringing up her girlfriend’s stressfully high standards. She supposes that they have been long overdue for another one of those, she hasn’t been this dissatisfied with herself since leaving her father’s house to live with her mother. It would seem like old habits are never truly shed.

She feels a pair of arms wrap around her torso and lips brush against her ear. “Good morning, Azula.”

“It’s afternoon currently.” Azula corrects. “Here.” She holds out a small box. It smells sugary and sweet and rests warmly in her grasp.

“What’s this?”

“Open it.”

She tugs on the little ribbon and opens the box to see a lightly iced cinnamon bun with an arrangement of red sprinkles.

“What’s this for?”

Azula shrugs. “Since I didn’t hold up my end of the bargain.”

Suki is both touched and saddened. She really hated her braces enough to spend time baking a new cinnamon roll to get out of her deal. “Thanks, Azula.” She bites into the treat. It is absolutely sublime, pleasantly warm and baked to a perfect golden brown. “This tastes amazing.” She smiles. “Did you make it yourself.”

Azula nods. “I had Katara help. But I did most of the work.”

“Well it’s really good. I’ll save the rest for after practice.”

Azula nods again. She is making it terribly difficult to request a difficult talk. For a while she is quiet, drumming her fingers against the lunchroom table. Maybe Suki ought to initiate the conversation now and get it over with.

Suki touches Azula’s cheek, rubbing it tenderly the way the girl likes. She gives her a soft little kiss and pulls back. “I don’t think that it’s shameful.” She starts. “You have braces. There are so many people who need them.”

“Yes, and it’s a shame that I am one of them.” She insists.

“You don’t always have to be perfect.” Suki says for what has to be the thousandth time. “Especially around me. You can just be you.”

“I am fine being me. I would just rather look like me but without braces.”

“And last year you would have just rather looked like you but with longer hair. And the year before that you would have just rather looked like you but with bigger boobs.”

Azula flushes again but Suki pushes on. “There’s always something, Azula.You always want to change something, and you don’t have to…”

“Yes, well this time I was fine with how I looked before…”

Suki quirks a brow. “Azula, you got the braces because you weren’t satisfied before. And you should be because…” she gestures to all of Azula. “Look at you.”

“I would rather look at you.”

“Cute, Azula. Super cheesy, totally a diversion, but cute.”

“I hope that you’re not expecting me to smile now.”

Suki shakes her head. “Not right now, no. But when someone makes you laugh, when you’re happy. When you win tonight’s game.”

.oOo.

She isn’t sure why this is so difficult.The change is so minor and so temporary. And yet she is feeling just as out of sorts and uncomfortable as she had when she’d cut her own hair. She still hasn’t smiled and she is almost sure that it has nothing to do with the people around her. She is decently worried about what they will have to say about her. But she is more worried about what she will say to herself if she looks in the mirror or sees her tainted smile in a photo.

She is tired of feeling this way. She wishes that she could just stop. She feels Suki’s hand cup over hers.

She is lucky that she has the girl, she would surely spiral if she didn’t. With her free hand, she touches her fingers to her lips. She certainly isn’t in the smiling mood. Not until Suki kisses her again, several times, once on the forehead, once on the lips, and once on the nose. She has always been fond of those little nose kisses. Suki knows this and she gives her a second.

She clutches Suki’s hand in her own. The girl had been right; there always is something that she wants to fix about herself. Even if it doesn’t need fixing. Most of the time she doesn’t even fix it, the desire simply passes. Such was the case when she wished that she were taller. And in that instance, she had actually grown quite fond of her small self. It makes her agile and speedy, a real menace on the tennis court. She had eventually grown fond of her shorter hair too, though she much prefers it long. She supposes that just because something isn’t preferable, doesn’t mean that it is horrible or ugly. Her therapist has assured her has much time and time again. She just has to get around to remembering it.

“I guess that you can look at them.” She mutters. She supposes that the only way to get reassurance would be to let at least one person see.

.oOo.

Her smile is more forced than any smile Suki has ever seen, but it is a smile no less. She had expected Azula to pick out the clear brackets. Instead she had chosen alternating golds and blues. For someone who is trying to avoid drawing attention, she has sure picked eye catching colors.

Somehow, Suki can’t picture it any other way. “They match your eyes.”

Azula blinks.

“They suit the rest of your face.” She clarifies. “Honestly, I think that they make you look smarter.”

“They do?”

Suki nods. “You should get Katara to let you try on her glasses! They’re blue so they would look nice too.”

Azula seems to fidget with the buttons on her uniform. “Good luck convincing her to let me, she hasn’t parted with those glasses since she got them.”

“Have you looked at yourself yet?”

Azula shakes her head.

“One step at a time, right?”

“Yes, one step at a time.”

“How about this, I get Katara to let you borrow her glasses, and you look at yourself in the mirror?”

.oOo.

Standing before the mirror, Azula wishes that she hadn’t made the deal. Katara promises that the glasses suit her well. And Suki swears that she looks amazing and sophisticated. When she finally brings herself to open her eyes, everything is a blur.

“Well, what do you think?”

“I think that Katara and I don’t have the same prescription.” She takes them off and rubs her eyes.

“We can’t all have 20-20.” Katara rolls her eyes as she puts her glasses back on.

“I figured you’d say that.” Suki holds out her phone.

Azula swallows and takes the device. Her face, as it appears on the screen isn’t exactly unflattering. She supposes that Suki is right, the glasses and braces do add some degree of sophistication. Perhaps if she holds her head a little higher and makes her expression a little bolder she can do herself favors. “I...I don’t hate it.” She stuffs her hands into her pockets.

“That’s a start.” Katara smiles warmly.

“And by the time you finish, you’re going to miss them.”

Azula crinkles her nose. “I will not miss not being able to eat mochi. I certainly won’t miss these poking wires…”

Suki pulls her into a hug and ruffles her hair. “That’s fair. But at least you’ll be more comfortable by the end of it.”

“Define comfortable. There’s nothing comfortable about a mild but constant throbbing.”

.oOo.

Suki rolls her eyes. At least her complaints have shifted from a poor self image to the physical discomforts. She just hopes that Azula knows that she is perfect just as she is. That there is no shame in a perfect collection of imperfections.

She slings her arm over Azula’s shoulders and kisses her cheek. “Let’s get to practice.”

#femslashfeb2021 #Avatar The Last Airbender #Azula #Suki #Azuki #Fanfiction

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unending-happiness · 4 years

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Hi, I've got a question out of nowhere! I was looking to re-read a story And When You Soar that was on my AO3 bookmark list and it's apparently not there anymore! I think it was your story? Can I ask what happened to it? If it's indeed the story I remember, I loved it!

Hi! Oh wow. It’s definitely my story! I’m smiling so big because you want to reread it. So…..as for what happened to it, I got a little overwhelmed with all my responsibilities in real life and how little time I had for writing. All my wips just felt like a heavy weight on my shoulders, because no matter how much I wanted to finish them I just didn’t think I’d ever have time. And I also felt so guilty about leaving them for so long without updates and letting readers down. So, I deleted all my wips from AO3 and vowed to only post them again when they were complete on my end (except for editing) and I could update them on a regular schedule. And When You Soar was supposed to be a relatively quick story, but then, as stories do, it took on a life of it’s own and there ended up being way more to it than I originally thought, so it got pulled too.

I’m actually in the middle of writing a long one-shot right now that’s fairly close to being sent to my beta. I don’t know what’s wrong with my writing brain right now, but I get huge bursts of inspiration for something new, then it fades, and rinse and repeat. Super unhelpful.

Now, the good news is, I’ve found myself at the very beginning of a period of being off work and quarantined at home because of this delightful pandemic we’re all experiencing, so I’m going to attack my wips with intensity and AWYS has a very good chance of getting finished soon and back up on ao3. Honestly, thank you so much for this ask because I wasn’t sure what wip from my list to work on after the one I’m finishing now, and you’ve made the decision easy for me. Thank you so much, lovely human! To hold you over until I post it again………

And When You Soar-Chapter 1

Alec ducked his head and stepped through the door and into the plane. He stopped when the elderly woman in front of him came to a standstill and looked around, transferring his suitcase to his other hand. He acknowledged the flight attendant standing to his left with his usual tight smile.

“Welcome aboard,” she greeted him, flashing him a bigger smile of her own.

“Thanks,” Alec answered her before his attention shifted to the open door just past her. A tall pilot standing just inside the flight cabin nodded at him and then turned his attention to who Alec assumed was his co-pilot. Always curious, Alec leaned to the side to see more of the other pilot, but his view into the small space was almost completely obstructed by the large man

“Sir,” the woman said to get his attention again.

He looked over at her and saw that she was motioning for him to move along into the cabin. He realized that the people in front of him had moved forward and he was holding up the line.

“Sorry,” he whispered, as if talking at a normal volume would cause further disturbance.

She just smiled at him sweetly again, and then turned her attention to whoever was behind him. Alec shifted his suitcase so that he could fit down the aisle, and focussed on finding his seat without taking out the tiny woman in front of him. He located his row near the back of the plane and saw that his seatmates hadn’t yet boarded, so he quickly stowed his bag in the overhead compartment and sat down in the aisle seat.

Normally, Alec loved being tall. He never needed a step stool, he had always been chosen first for basketball teams in high-school gym class, and he could see over everyone’s head in a crowd. It also made intimidating people fairly effortless, not that he would ever admit that out loud. Being tall was almost always a perk, but he found that flights were one of the few glaring exceptions.

He always sprang for first class when he had to be on a plane for more than a few hours, but his sister’s last-minute plans had him booking the only available seat on the only available flight that would fit into his demanding schedule. He barely had time to get a workout in and grab a quick shower before his Uber pulled up. He was feeling very lucky that he at least got an aisle seat, and even so, there simply wasn’t going to be a position that would make his legs happy. It was going to be a long night and his only hope would be to fall asleep, which was unlikely, as he found it especially difficult to do in crowded places.

He grabbed his phone and earbuds out of his backpack and put it under the seat in front of him, barely leaving enough room to squeeze his black Nikes in there. When he glanced back up, he could see that there was a young man and woman waiting patiently for him to get up so they could take the seats next to him. He quickly stood and moved to the side. The man eyed him up and down suspiciously and then quickly changed positions with who Alec could only assume was his girlfriend so that he would be sitting next to Alec instead of her. Alec barely contained an eye roll. Heterosexuals. He gave them plenty of space while they got settled and then gingerly lowered himself back into his seat, already regretting going so hard in the gym that morning as his thighs still protested from yesterday’s workout. He would feel it doubly tomorrow.

He went through the process of checking and returning messages on his phone. He handled a few work emails and then touched base with his family. He answered a text from Izzy.

Did you make your flight?

Barely

That’s the spirit. See you soon. 😘

If by “soon” you mean in 9 hours, then yes, that.

Grouchy…..You got stuck in economy again didn’t you? Such a diva.

Next time you come up with some grand scheme, I’m going to need you to think of my legs.

Promise, but I’m sure you could use your powers of persuasion to get yourself into first class. 😎😍

You’re confusing me with you, again

Oh, Alec. Try not to have too much fun.😂 We’ll pick you up at the airport.

Hey, I know how to have fun.

And by “we”, do you mean…..

Simon and I. I wouldn’t bring mom or dad. I’m not that mean.☹️

I have plenty of scars that suggest otherwise, but I’ll see you in 9 short hours.

Love you, big brother

Love you, too.

The perky flight attendant had started her safety speech, which was thankfully straight to the point and not one of those lame ones trying to make everyone laugh. Alec fastened his seatbelt across his black joggers and logged into the airline’s Wi-Fi. He put his phone on airplane mode as soon as he was connected. He glanced over at his seatmates to see the man was huddled up next to his companion and they were chatting quietly and giggling. He didn’t think he had to worry about them trying to talk to him, but he stuck a wireless earbud in that ear anyway just to be sure. He scanned the rest of the passengers within view of him and tried to settle comfortably in his seat when he decided that everything was as it should be.

The pilot he had seen when he boarded the plane came out a few moments later and did the standard pre-flight announcement. Captain Garroway had a deep and booming voice, so Alec clearly heard the weather and their destination all the way from his seat in the back of the plane.

He busied himself with scrolling through his playlist to distract himself during take off. He wasn’t a nervous flyer, but the knowledge that nearly all plane crashes happened during ascent and descent kept him from really relaxing until they were fully up in the air. Being out of control in any situation went against every fiber of his being, and he just had to work through it. He spread his legs a little, pushing his knees all the way against the seatback in front of him, praying that the person wouldn’t want to recline their seat. He crossed his arms over his chest and closed his eyes.

The plane had just hit cruise height, the most nerve wracking part over, and he was listening to a conversation between a mother and child in front of him when his phone buzzed in his lap.

Alec swiped down his notifications and pulled his eyebrows together when he saw what app the push notification had come from. Of all times to get a message from someone on Grindr, this one had to be the weirdest. He hadn’t even had an account for twenty-four hours yet, only having downloaded it late the night before out of boredom. His sister had joked recently that he needed to “Meet someone on Grindr or something to let off some steam”, and despite everything in his being telling him he wouldn’t be happy with such a thing, he had done it anyway. He wasn’t exactly sure why he had listened to her, because he had no interest in hooking up with a random guy just because he was within so many feet of him. There was actually someone he had something really casual with, but it had been a while since he’d seen him. So, he could probably chalk this horrible lapse in decision making up to being frustrated and horny. Still, he had no intention of using the app, not really.

He thought about dismissing the message without reading it, almost laughing at the thought of having sex with some random stranger in the tiny plane bathroom, when it hit him that the message actually had to be from someone currently on the plane with him. That thought had him sitting up straighter and looking around him as inconspicuous as possible. He didn’t see anyone staring at him, but still, like the truly paranoid person he was, he turned down the brightness on his screen so the people around him would be less likely to see what he was doing. Hesitantly, he opened the message.

It was from someone called “CoyNotCryptic” and the icon wasn’t a person, but instead was an aerial photo of a city he didn’t recognize. Oh-kayyy, that wasn’t going to tell him anything. He looked around the cabin again and then read the message.

I see you’re on my flight. Enjoy the ride to Rome.

Alec stared at the words in disbelief. What are the chances? He quickly tried to figure out who this mystery messenger could be. A fellow passenger? The app informed him that it was someone ninety feet away, which would have to be someone toward the front of the plane. A passenger in first class maybe? Alec looked up at the flight attendants suspiciously. Both were women and he didn’t see a third, but that didn’t necessarily mean there wasn’t another one there. First class sometimes had their own attendant. Thoroughly flustered, he turned off his screen and laid it face down in his lap again, still eyeing the people around him and the front of the cabin.

He made it an impressive five minutes before he unlocked his phone and pulled up the message thread. He clicked on the mystery person’s profile.

All he learned from that was that the guy was 3O ish years old, 5’11”, 175lbs, Bi, and Single. Seemed intriguing enough, but a picture definitely would have been extremely helpful. Fucking Grindr. This was why he didn’t want to mess with it in the first place. He wasn’t going to answer it. Absolutely not. What would he even say? What if the person was a total creep and it was a disaster for the entire eight-hour flight?

Just a few minutes later, bored and antsy, he decided that it was going to bother him if he didn’t at least find out who it was. Oh, what the hell , he thought, and typed out a message.

The chances of this happening have to be a million to one, right?

He tapped his foot nervously while he waited the fifteen seconds for an answer to come.

I’m not privy to the exact statistics, but it doesn’t happen very often, in my professional experience. Does this mean you’re one in a million?

Alec swallowed a laugh. The wording of the message made him feel more like it was someone working on the flight. That was probably less risky than a random passenger. More than a little intrigued, he typed a reply.

By that logic, you would be one in a million, also.

Oh, I definitely am.

How self-aware of you.

Self-aware and humble.

And….working right now??

Yes, although it doesn’t feel like work at the moment.

Because I’m distracting you?

Don’t get ahead of yourself. It could be the 40-ton jet I’m flying. -MB

Alec nearly dropped his damn phone and he was ninety percent sure he said, “No way,” out loud instead of in his head. The pilot!! The pilot was messaging him on Grindr. What the actual hell had Izzy gotten him into?! He had the passing thought that maybe it was somebody else on the plane fucking with him, and he looked around for about the tenth time. And MB? Most definitely not the initials of Garroway, the pilot he saw before. Must’ve been the pilot he hadn’t been able to get a good look at when he boarded.

He didn’t have time to go too far down that rabbit hole of thought, because just then a voice filled the cabin. This one was very different than Captain Garroway’s and it got Alec’s full attention, to say the least.

“Good evening, lovely passengers, this is Captain Bane speaking.”

This voice sent a shiver down his spine and made every nerve ending wake up and take notice. It was a voice of pure silk that made Alec think of skin on skin, of dark passionate nights, of hushed whispers between sloppy kisses.

He was absolutely reeling at the realization that “MB” from Grindr was also Captain Bane, the pilot of this airplane, a man whose voice alone stimulated every cell in Alec’s body. He was thoroughly fucked for the duration of this flight and he couldn’t even find it in himself to be mad about it.

“We are now cruising along at an altitude of 30,000 feet. You may use any larger electronic devices you have at this time, on airplane mode, of course. I’m very good at what I do, but I’d prefer a smooth and easy ride tonight.”

Alec pursed his lips to contain his disbelieving laugh, his eyes wide.

“Please also feel free to take your seatbelt off if you need to move around the cabin, but be sure to put it back on anytime you’re in your seat. This is just a precaution in case of unexpected turbulence, or in the event I jerk my stick a little too hard.”

The passengers around him chuckled at the joke, but Alec thought that there was no possible way in hell any of them could be as affected by those words as he was. This was an unbelievable turn of events.

“My darling flight attendants will be doing drink service soon, and I’d like to ask you to be patient and enjoy whatever quenches your thirst. Please exercise self-control, though, as this is a long flight for all of us. Also, just a reminder that any long arms or long legs that are taking up aisle space, are most definitely at risk of being taken out by Clary and her cart, and need to be tucked safely in your seat. Thank you very much and enjoy the ride to Rome.”

This man. Holy. Fucking. Shit. He needed a drink from Clary and her cart ASAP.

He stared at his phone and that last message. It was clearly his move now, and considering how buzzed he was from the announcements alone, he wanted to make it a good one. He decided he very much wanted to play this game.

Aren’t there rules about texting and flying?

You are in very capable hands. I wasn’t joking when I said I’m good at what I do.

In all seriousness though, my co-pilot is doing all the heavy lifting at the moment, but if this makes you nervous, I’ll stop. I like to keep my customers happy.

Don’t stop.

I’m not worried.

Good. Tell me something?

Ask away.

What takes you to Rome?

My little sister’s impromptu wedding.

Scandalous. Have you met her other half?

Oh, yeah. They’ve been together for a while. The engagement isn’t that surprising, and, really, the quick wedding isn’t either if you know my family. She’s avoiding a lot of drama. I can’t really blame her.

Ah, family drama, ever delightful.

Unfortunately there’s no shortage of it with mine.

How long are you staying in Rome for the wedding?

Just a few days.

It’s an absolutely beautiful city. I can make some recommendations if you’d like……

That would be great.

Perky red rolled up to him with her cart, pulling his focus away from the conversation. He reluctantly placed the phone face down on his tray and tried to not look impatient as he got his wallet with his card out of his bag. She asked the couple next to him what they wanted, and Alec dutifully passed a soda and a red wine over. She ignored his debit card and poured a whiskey on the rocks, probably the most expensive they had on board, and handed it over to him. His confusion must have shown on his face because she winked at him and pointed to the front of the plane. It took a couple seconds for him to get it and then he glanced to his side to be sure the people next to him weren’t paying attention.

“Oh, uh, thanks,“ he whispered, and immediately felt like a moron.

“No problem. If you need anything else at all, just let me know. I’ll be back around for meal orders in just a little bit.”

Alec took a big sip of his drink. It was easily twice the size of the drinks you normally received on a plane and he felt a little guilty that he hadn’t even paid for it. He resisted the urge to look around and see if anyone had noticed his special treatment.

He checked his phone as soon as he felt relaxed from the warmth that had burned its way down his chest. There were no new messages, but he decided that sending him a drink was a pretty loud and clear message of its own and he started typing.

So, now you are flying a plane, texting, AND buying me a drink?! Show off.

Is that a thank you?

Of course. How did you even know where I was sitting?

Well, you see, there are these things called ‘Flight Manifests’ and pilots receive one for every flight. Although I must admit I’ve never found one quite as useful as I do now.

By the way, who uses their real name for a Grindr profile??

People who want their pilots to send them free booze.

Ah. Well, your grand scheme is working out quite nicely then, I’d say.

Seriously though, thank you for the drink.

You’re most welcome, Alexander. (So useful, that manifest)

Nobody calls me that except for my mother when she’s angry with me.

Would you rather I not?

No….you can.

Good, because I’m fond of it.

Speaking of things I’m fond of, Clary tells me that your "longest legs ever” have no business at all being in coach.

Ah, well, you can blame my sister and her last minute plans for that.

Wait, do you have everyone spying on me?!

Not everyone, just Clary, I suppose. Though, to be fair, she mentioned your legs before I had her bring you a drink. Seems “tall, dark, and handsome” appeals to all genders.

I’m going to need more alcohol if you’re going to keep saying things like that.

I’ll let Clary know the gorgeous man with mile long legs in C36 needs another drink soon.

I’m actually blushing.

I’d give my Louis luggage to see that for myself.

I don’t do selfies.

Really? Not even for the man who tried to get you a seat in First class?

It was all booked. I checked.

Yes, it is. But I tried to offer someone top shelf alcohol for the duration of the flight to switch with you.

YOU DIDN’T. Please tell me you didn’t.

Doesn’t matter. It didn’t work anyway. Please pass my apologies onto your legs.

No.

No?

No. If you have a message for my legs, you’ll have to deliver it yourself.

Do you really think it’s wise to cause a rise in the heart rate of the pilot who is flying your plane?

My bad. Pass my apologies onto your heart?

If I have to deliver messages in person, then you do as well.

Can you put the pedal to the floor? Get us on the ground any faster?

Do you know anything at all about airplanes?

No, but you could teach me.

With pleasure.

Lkkdfskhdkhsdfkhd.

Did he really send a keysmash? He did. He did that, as eloquent as ever. Slightly mortified, he waited to be teased for it. When no message came through, he checked his Wi-Fi connection, then his watch, and finally scrolled through his playlist and chose some music, trying to busy himself with something other than shamelessly flirting with the man currently keeping them alive way above the surface of the earth. He was probably very busy at the moment and Alec had to get a grip, especially since they were only an hour and a half into the flight.

By the time the dinner cart went through an hour later, Alec had returned a few more emails, done his budget for the month, organized all the photos in his gallery, and archived all the files on his phone that he didn’t need anymore. He also might have checked Grindr for new messages about twenty times, so he was more than a little ready for that second drink.

This time the other attendant came through, the one with the darker skin and curly hair. She was just as helpful and nice as Clary, but much less hyper, and Alec found that she had a way about her that he liked. With a knowing smile she served him up the same drink as before. She didn’t even try to tell him where it came from, which he appreciated, because at this point he was more than a little self conscious that the entire staff seemed to know the pilot was sending him things.

She took his dinner order and returned twenty minutes later with what could only amount to two standard airline meals and yet another glass of amber liquid. This one was smaller and accompanied by a bottle of water. He didn’t miss how she took his credit card and made herself look busy, before handing it back without actually swiping it. He gave her a genuine smile, very much appreciating her discretion and she patted his shoulder as she went by.

He usually didn’t like to be touched by people, let alone strangers, reserving his physical affection for his family alone. Maybe it was the alcohol warming his veins or the fact that he was currently being lavished with gifts, but he found that the small touch made him happy.

Eventually, he was relaxed enough that he felt like he may actually be able to sleep, but he still declined a pillow and blanket when they came through passing them out to everyone. There was no way he was going to be able to get that comfortable around this many strangers. He made a quick trip to the restroom and stopped in the aisle to stretch his legs and torso as much as he could in the tight space, before regrettably sliding back into his seat. He knocked back the last bit of his drink and followed it with the water, before sliding his tray back up and settling in. His phone buzzed on his leg.

How was dinner?

Pretty good, actually. I think I owe you a few hundred dollars at this point.

Nonsense, it was my pleasure.

Thank you.

Is it sad that this is probably better than any date I’ve ever had?

That’s only because you haven’t been on a proper date with me ; )

Or because I’m bad at the whole dating thing. (Did you just winky face me?)

I think, given the right company, you’d do better than you think. (Yes, yes I did.)

Hah. A high compliment.

How about this for a compliment…….You really need to warn my staff before you go stretching in the aisle, again. Nobody benefits from a passed out crew.

Who told you about that?

Oh, just a little conversation between Clary and Maia.

Ugh.

I like Maia.

AND DON’T YOU HAVE A PLANE TO FLY?!

Shhhhhhhhh. I’m a professional, remember?

And I figured you would. She likes you, too.

Nobody likes me.

That’s very much not true. I happen to have it on good authority that just a small little sliver of your stomach can cause an impressive stir.

Please stop.

Are you blushing again?

I’m not sending you a selfie.

What if I pout?

Don’t do that. I’ll be forced to take one and then I’ll die of embarrassment. Nobody needs that.

*Sighs* I rather like you living, so I’ll give you a pass this time.

So generous.

You have no idea how generous I can be.

You can’t just keep saying things like that to me.

Why not? I’m just trying to give you “sweet dreams” material.

That might be the cheesiest thing I’ve ever heard.

Did it make you smile?

Maybe……

Yes.

Good. Regrettably, I have to go do the heavy lifting now. I’ll leave you to sleep.

Sleep. Sure. Easy. No problem.

Goodnight, Alexander.

Surprisingly, sleep came easier than he ever could have imagined it would, given the situation, which made him thankful for the food, booze, and the exhaustion that came with being up for almost twenty-four hours straight. He drifted off replaying the messages from Captain Bane in his head over and over and a relaxed smile on his face.

Alec woke with a start when the man in his row slid their window shade all the way up. He squinted against the bright sun, a clear indication that he slept longer than just a few hours. He rubbed his eyes with the heels of his hands and tried to blink the sleep from them. When he looked around he saw that a few people were still sleeping, but most were awake and talking quietly, with various drinks and snacks. It seemed he had slept through the beverage cart and probably some announcements, and he imagined that they had to be pretty close to landing in Rome.

He hit his knee on something and looked down to see that someone had lowered his tray and placed a lidded cup of coffee, a bottle of water and a blueberry muffin on it. That’s when it all came back to him. He scrambled around in his lap to find his phone, dropping it on the floor in his haste. He leaned down in the tight space to get it and hit his head on the seatback in front of him. “Shit!”

He glanced at his seatmates and said a quick, “Sorry,” for cursing and causing a ruckus, but didn’t pay attention to them long enough to see their reactions. He had much better things to do.

He managed to fish his phone off the floor and quickly straightened, sliding down his notifications with impressive speed and selecting the one he wanted.

Good morning, Sleeping Beauty. If you need anything else, let me know.

Alec grinned and took a big gulp of his coffee before replying. He needed to wake up fast.

You are a gift, you know that?

Does that mean you’re going to eagerly unwrap me?

It’s too early for sentences like that.

It’s never too early for sentences like that.

How long until we land?

An hour and seventeen minutes.

Aren’t you getting tired?

I’m used to it, darling. Don’t worry about me.

Darling. He actively tried to keep a stupid smile from taking over his face. An hour. An hour until he exited this plane…..through the front of the plane. The front of the plane where this man currently was. Fuck. He needed a lot more coffee, a toothbrush, and a mirror STAT. He looked down at his crumpled t-shirt and jogging pants and swore under his breath. Truthfully, Alec wasn’t even sure he would be seeing him in person when they landed. He hadn’t seen him when they boarded, and so maybe it would be a repeat of that. That thought was too disappointing for him though, so he pushed it away and set about righting himself, just in case.

He drank his coffee down as quickly as he could without burning his mouth. Then he wrapped his muffin up in the package and put it in his backpack, knowing there was no way his nervous early morning stomach would tolerate it. He grabbed his toiletry bag and rushed to the bathroom before the imminent announcement that they had to stay in their seats.

Once he was folded in the cramped space, he brushed his teeth and thanked God for his recent haircut in preparation for the wedding. He spent a few minutes mussing his hair up with his fingers and a bit of water before deciding it was about as good as it was going to get. He ran his hand over his face and decided the scruff there wasn’t too bad, not bad enough to shave in an airplane bathroom, at least.

He started to stretch and then abruptly stopped, self-conscious that people would notice and he’d be the subject of mile-high gossip once again. He returned to his seat feeling a bit more human and a lot more nervous.

Clary came walking down the aisle with purpose, smiled way too brightly at him for 7 a.m. and handed him a folded up slip of paper. He hesitantly took it with a polite, “Thanks,” and immediately opened it and read the elegant script.

Meet me up front, if you want , after everyone else has deplaned.

~M.

If you want. He wasn’t sure he had ever wanted anything so much in his life.

Captain Garroway came over the intercom to let them know they were beginning their descent and Alec didn’t comprehend any of it. He put his seatbelt on when others around him did and tried to stop bouncing his leg nervously. Maybe he had a little too much coffee.

Ten minutes later they landed in Rome without incident, and Alec unbuckled his seatbelt and wiped his sweaty palms on his pants. Why the hell was he so nervous? He watched as the other passengers gathered their belongings and exited at an agonizingly slow pace. Twice he got up and helped someone get a bag out of the compartment to hurry the process along. He tried really fucking hard to not compare the man across from him to a sloth, like a total asshole. Finally, when it got to his row he stood up and let the man and woman go by him.

Once they had their stuff gathered, the woman unexpectedly turned to Alec and said, “I just have to know, are you some kind of celebrity or something?”

Alec balked.

The man with her looked shocked as he nudged her. “Jules!”

She shrugged. “What? It’s kind of obvious.” She turned back to Alec. “Which movies are you in?”

Alec huffed out a laugh, “What? No…”

He was relieved when her boyfriend tugged her along even if he was kind of amused at the last disbelieving look she shot him.

The last few rows went by without any more accusations of stardom, which Alec was very grateful for, and then Clary passed by him last, with a wink and a little wave. He groaned out loud and didn’t even feel bad for it.

There was movement at the front of the plane from the crew and he forced himself to not focus on any of it, but instead he pulled his suitcase out of the overhead bin and threw his backpack over his shoulder. He started walking.

It all became too real when he saw Clary and Maia exit the plane behind the passengers. That wasn’t normal, was it? That definitely wasn’t normal. Jesus Christ, his heart was going to beat out of his chest. He got to first class and the other pilot, Garroway, was standing there in front of the cockpit door, his bag in hand. He shot Alec a smug, crooked smile and left the plane without a word.

And then there he stood.

There he stood looking way more beautiful than anyone who had been working all night had any right to. His eyes were bright and kohl-rimmed, his features strong and beautiful even as he nervously rubbed the fingers of his left hand together. He really was a kind of perfect that Alec hadn’t even realized existed. He wanted to devour him.

Alec watched, a little stunned, as he stepped forward. Then, he tilted his head up in a challenge and parted his lips, and that was all it took.

Alec abandoned his luggage right there in the aisle and went to him. He reached out with both hands, pressing one hand to his hip and grabbing his shirt with the other, pulling him into him. He kissed him hard, already drowning in the scent of him, the feel of him.

They started stumbling backward, and Alec realized that he was throwing his weight around too much, but fucking hell, he couldn’t help it. He couldn’t even think as he pressed their lips together over and over. He wanted it hard and fast, soft and slow, any and every way he could have him.

They stumbled through the door and into the back of the captain’s chair with an “oomph” and Alec opened his eyes briefly to drink him in.

“Alec,” he said, his breath hot on Alec’s lips, eyes still closed.

“Magnus,” Alec said, stepping into him even more, closing the tiniest bit of space that was left between them. “Fuck, I missed you.”

Magnus opened his eyes and smiled at him. “Yes, I can feel that,” he said, rolling his hips against Alec’s.

“You haven’t felt anything yet,” Alec said, his voice gruff.

Magnus slid a hand between them, “Oh, this isn’t just anything,” he said, rubbing fingers down Alec’s length through his pants. He curled them under the waistband and tugged, causing Alec to go from half-hard to fully erect in no time flat. “I like these pants…….a lot.”

Alec rubbed circles on Magnus’ ribcage with his thumb to distract himself so he could manage to speak a coherent sentence. “They’re perfect for long flights.”

He nearly whimpered when Magnus retracted his hand, but somehow still managed to narrow his eyes at him. “Speaking of long flights,” he said, “I’m supposed to be mad at you.”

Magnus smiled at him. “Oh, really? Whatever did I do?”

At that moment he realized how much he had missed that. His smile, his cunning wit, the elegance with which he spoke, his humor. All of it. He had missed all of Magnus. Desperately. He couldn’t believe he even considered the notion that anyone he met on a hookup app would be enough.

He stepped back a little bit, trying to be serious, but he didn’t remove his hands from Magnus’ waist, because he wasn’t planning on going far, maybe ever. “Well, you were in the city where I live and you didn’t even call me,” he accused, trying not to sound too desperate and probably failing miserably.

Magnus’ eyes twinkled with mischief, which should have prepared Alec for what came next, but before he knew it Magnus had changed their positions, and Alec was being pushed back against the chair, with Magnus pressing up against him, chest to hip. He leaned in and whispered in Alec’s ear, “Mmmmmm, well, if you needed me to dick you down, all you had to do was say something.” He nibbled gently at his earlobe and Alec almost forgot how to move air.

Fucking hell, if that didn’t make him damn near want to beg. “This is me saying something.”

Magnus kissed his neck ever so lightly, which sent shivers all the way down his body. “Hmmmm, what exactly are you saying, darling?”

“Magnus,” he said, exasperated and damn near floating with desire. Or lack of oxygen. Probably both.

“Alexander,” he practically purred back.

That was the first time Alec had ever heard him say his full name and he hoped it wasn’t even close to the last time. He actually fucking whimpered, and that was when he decided this wasn’t the time to be stubborn. “I need you to dick me down,” he admitted, snaking a hand up and grabbing Magnus’ hair. He pulled his head back and away from his neck to get back some control, instead kissing him deeply, sliding his tongue into his mouth and languidly tasting him.

Magnus moaned into his mouth and returned the kiss with equal intensity, before pulling away to answer him, grinding their hips together once more for good measure.

“With pleasure, if you promise to put that beautiful mouth of yours to good use.”

Alec’s whole body was singing at that promise. “Deal.” He looked around, thinking of logistics for all the things they were about to do, and then he was snapped back into the reality of exactly where they were.

“You’re a pilot,” he said, matter of fact, even if a little breathless.

“I am.” Magnus smiled. “Are you impressed?”

“Very, but what else is new?” Alec answered.

Magnus laughed, “I have to admit this is turning out most favorable for me as well.”

Alec looked around, “How long before you have to fly out again?”

Magnus said, “A couple of days…ish.”

“Ish?” Alec asked.

“That’s what I said.”

“Can you come to my hotel later?” Alec asked.

Magnus bit his bottom lip, then grinned. “You aren’t even a little tempted to do it right here, Alec? It is a Cock-pit, after all. It’s right there in the name,” he whispered.

Alec smiled, “Wow.” Honestly, fuck him for being so sexy while delivering such outrageous lines.

Magnus laughed deeply, and Alec ran a large hand down his chest and pulled his shirt down to kiss what he could of his collar bone. “Believe me, I’m very, very tempted, but I want to get you completely naked, lay you out on a bed, and take my time with you. I’ve had enough of cramped spaces for a while.”

“How could I possibly argue with that logic?” Magnus asked.

“You can’t,” Alec said.

“Text me your hotel information and give me a couple of hours?” Magnus asked.

The “couple of hours” part had him rethinking the whole “fucking in the cockpit of this plane” business, but he pushed away from Magnus with Herculean effort and placed one last and lingering kiss to his lips.

Alec forced himself to go back into the plane to collect his belongings, feeling Magnus’ eyes on him the whole way. When he passed by him again, Magnus was leaning against the door, a knowing smirk on his face.

Alec gestured to Magnus’ uniform. “Are you going to be wearing this when you stop by?” He couldn’t resist asking.

Magnus’ eyes crinkled with his smile. “Ooh, does someone have a kink?”

“Says the man who’s obsessed with my legs,” he countered, grinning back.

Magnus laughed, and Alec thought that it might very well be the most beautiful sound he’d ever heard. “Get out of my airplane, Alexander.”

#asks #answers #ever-so-nice #this was so lovely #thank you #and im sorry for being such a damn hot mess #and when you soar #oh how i have to get to working on this #ive missed this version of them #fanfic #myfics #malec #malec au #pilot magnus #the one prompted by the twitter post of a pilot messaging someone on grindr

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yastaghr · 4 years

Text

What We Do For Family 5

This one took a while, but it’s worth it! What We Do For Family is back!

Link: https://archiveofourown.org/works/22254547/chapters/58305151

Reaper stepped into Sharktale. He also stepped into absolute chaos. He’d thought he’d opened a portal into the cold-water equivalent of Snowdin, but it looked like he’d missed his mark and ended up in the current to Hotland. That was close enough to walk it, and he didn’t have to worry about anyone bumping into him. Everyone in Sharktale swam, including the little diver humans who worked with them. Besides, the only sharks that would be on the floor of this section of ocean were slow enough that he could dodge them. It turns out that binge-watching Shark Week with his son had its uses.

A few hours later Reaper ran into the monster (or, rather, god) that he was looking for. Dream waved at him from the window of his cave complex in the rock forest of Snowdin. Reaper smiled and waved back at him, then grimaced when Dream moved to open the door. It wasn’t that he disliked Dream. It was just that Reaper knew that Palette would be there, too, and Reaper hadn’t brought Goth. He still wasn’t sure how to react to the knowledge that Goth had a crush. So, instead of reacting, he’d decided to ignore it.

The door opening up was what interrupted Reaper’s thoughts. Sure enough, the first thing that happened was a little white blur racing out of the house and tackling him at the knees. Reaper was once again glad that he’d convinced the other gods to let Palette become a little immortal. Goth needed someone his own age to play with who wasn’t going to die.

“hey, pal-pal. goth has been talking about you,” he said, testing the waters to see what Palette’s reaction was going to be.

Palette turned an enormous grin up at him. “HE HAS?! I’VE BEEN TALKING ABOUT HIM, TOO. I’VE BEEN TELLING MOM THAT GOTH SHOWED ME HOW TO MAKE A PORTAL! HE’S SO COOL! I LOVE HIM THIS MUCH!” Palette said, holding his hands as far apart as he could.

Reaper smiled, but inside he was panicking. Love? Palette loved Goth? That much? Reaper really hoped he just meant as a friend. “that’s great, palette. i’m sorry i don’t have goth with me today. i actually came to talk to your mom. do you think you could find something to do that would be fun to do while dream and i talk?”

Palette nodded. “YEP! I’M WORKING ON A GIFT FOR GOTH! IT’S A SECRET, THOUGH, SO DON’T TELL HIM.”

Reaper smiled a little queasily. He definitely wasn’t prepared to deal with this. “i promise i won’t tell him, pal-pal. now you go get working on that present! goth is really looking forward to seeing you again.”

The little skeleton beamed at Reaper, saluted him, and ran back inside. The sound of Dream’s laughter, muffled as it was by the water between them, drew Reaper’s attention. Dream looked… good. He was smiling, and that smile was more than the shadow Reaper had grown used to on his bad days. Palette did that to him. Goth did, too. Reaper couldn’t blame him. They were both absolute delights.

“He’s a little gem, isn’t he?” Dream said softly, coming over to stand by Reaper. “Even the most horrible situations can have a little light in them, right?”

Reaper winced. He could recognize false cheer when he heard it. Then again, that was Dream’s job. He was the God of Positivity. He had to try and make people feel better. Reaper could understand that. He hated his job sometimes, too.

“i can’t possibly imagine what good could come of me losing geno, dream. he’s…” He trailed to a stop.

“Well, you got to spend some more quality time with your son, right? That has to count as a positive!” Dream said determinedly. Reaper sighed. He should just give in to being cheered up instead of moping, but… after what he had found out from Life about Geno’s current condition, that was hard. He just wanted to curl up and cry, but he’d already done so much of that that his voice was sore.

“i guess… that’s actually why i’m here. geno, not spending time with goth.” It was Dream’s turn to wince. Reaper quickly explained, “i have some new information. life found out… she found out… geno’s changed. she says something even more powerful than she is messed with him. he probably won’t remember us. so, i’m here to warn you about it, and ask if you can maybe check for any new souls? she said his soul has been changed, so maybe you could find him this time.”

Dream sighed. Reaper could already feel his aura shifting. He hoped he wouldn’t trigger an episode, but he needed to know if Geno was okay. Maybe Life couldn’t find him but Dream could? All Reaper really had at this point was hope.

The God of Positivity got that far away look Reaper recognized as him searching. He stood by, ready to act if Dream-

Dream froze, his eye lights going black and his whole body going rigid. Damn. Reaper reached out to touch Dream and wake him from this stupor. Dream could be stuck like this all day if he didn’t. It was a consequence of Dream’s time trapped in stone. Humans called it dissociation, and it was a scary thing. Dream had once said that it felt like he wasn’t attached to his body anymore. His senses were all dulled and so was his mind. If Dream could even manage to respond it seldom made sense. It was part of why Dream was rarely left alone.

Everyone knew what to do when he got like this. The first step was to speak to him. “dream. it’s me, reaper. i’m going to touch you, okay?” He said. There was no response, which Reaper knew to expect.

He moved on to the next step, which was to gently touch Dream in a safe place. Reaper picked his arm to touch, not above the fabric of his sleeves, but still on his upper arm. Dream didn’t react to the initial touch, but as Reaper began to rub little circles into his arm Dream started to move. First there came a breath. Then a blink. Two. Then Dream’s head turned, agonizingly slowly, to face Reaper.

“hey, dream. take your time, but try to come back to yourself, okay?” Reaper said. Pinpricks of light appeared in Dream’s dark sockets. They slowly grew into actual orbs. They were still faint, but at least they were there. Reaper counted that as a win. “that’s it, dream. good job. do you think you can speak? you can say whatever you want, just say something.”

Dream sipped a lungful of air, then let it out. He repeated this twice before he actually spoke. “... I had another episode, didn’t I?”

Reaper nodded. Honesty was always best. “yeah, dream, you did. it’s okay, though. it didn’t last nearly as long as some of your others have. you were out for maybe ten minutes max, and you didn’t relapse at all. that’s good!”

Dream smiled weakly. “Thanks for your help. I’m sorry I’m not more use for you. What was it that got me started into the haze?”

“i asked you if you could try and find new souls that could be geno. it’s okay that you didn’t succeed. life already told me we wouldn’t be able to find them, but… i’d hoped that she was wrong. i shouldn’t have asked you to do that. i’m sorry,” Reaper apologized.

Dream’s smile grew a little bit in strength. “That’s okay, Reaper. I understand. If I hear about or feel any new souls I’ll let you know, okay?”

Reaper recognized a dismissal when he heard one, but he had one more thing to talk about. “dream? um, i don’t know how to put this, but… goth has a crush on palette. can you tell what kind of crush it is?”

Dream blinked at him and laughed, bright and clear. Reaper smiled. That was good. He hated to leave Dream in a bad frame of mind. “Are you just discovering this now, Reaper? They’ve been dating for over a year. It’s sweet. They’re always talking about each other and constantly want to be together. They make each other gifts and share all their discoveries with each other. Palette’s soul beat speeds up every time he sees Goth, and Gothy’s soul skips a beat when he sees him. I couldn’t tell you what kind of relationship they have, though. I just know that it’s real.”

Great. There went Reaper’s little fantasy about the two kids. There was only one thing to do now. He had to find out. “so, how many people knew about this before i did?”

“Quite a lot, I’m afraid,” Dream tittered, “although if we knew you didn’t know we would have done something about that. There’s even a little fanclub for their ship. People give them art supplies and toys to give to each other, that sort of thing. It’s called the Poth Fanclub! I can give you the list of people who are in it if you want.”

Reaper nodded. He could feel his dark aura swirling around him. He had a thing or two to say to these people who would encourage two little kids in something like this. It was very rude to ship real people, and doubly so for children. Reaper knew what he was going to be doing next. These people needed to have a lesson in manners, and Goth needed to be reminded about taking gifts from strangers.

Dream giggled. “It’s all people you know, Reaper. Grim is in it. So are Mercy and me. Classic, Blue, and Red each have their part in it, as do their brothers. I think the only person you’d have doubts about is Ink. We’ve kept him away from Goth like you wanted, but he is the one giving most of the art supplies to Palette. He is his son, after all.”

Reaper shuddered. It wasn’t that he didn’t like Ink… no, that was a lie. Reaper hated Ink. After what he had learned about him lately, why wouldn’t he? Ink was a menace. “thanks for keeping him away from goth. i just-”

“I understand, Reaper. I just wish you could forgive him. I have,” Dream said pointedly.

“heh. you know me, dream. death is notorious for holding a grudge,” Reaper said, chuckling. How exactly that rumor had gotten started was beyond him, but that didn’t really matter. It was useful, so he let the rumor hang around.

Dream sighed. “I know. Say hello to Goth for me when you see him!”

“i will. see you later, dream!” Reaper said, waving as he opened a portal back to Reapertale. “i will.”

=====

Error tumbled out of the Anti-Void and fell flat on his face in the snow. It was almost comical how much effort it took him to pry his skull off of the ice. It finally came free with a wet slurp that was completely inappropriate for the action that caused it. He grumbled to himself, “Stupid ice. Stupid portal. Stupid Fate.”

<Where are we, anyway? Does anyone know what universe we’re in?> One of the more helpful voices asked.

Error looked around, but he couldn’t tell just by looking. There was no dust scattered in this section of the Snowdin forest. No traps littered the ground. The only things he could see from here were the door to the Ruins, the bridge that every Papyrus built with bars too wide, and the branch that the Sans would use to prank the human. Huh. Guess he wouldn’t find out until he ran into a monster. Hopefully it would be the Sans. Actually, scratch that. Hopefully there was no one in this world. He really didn’t want to kill people. If he had to destroy it would be better to do so without killing anyone.

<Oh! You should go knock on the door first! It would be so cute to see you talk to a Toriel again!> Another voice, much younger in tone, said.

Error shivered. He really didn’t want to, but… he had to start somewhere. He had to do this to protect his family, no matter how much he hated it. He trudged through the thick, unbroken snow to the looming door in the cliffside. Habit, long forgotten in his crazy life, led him to sit against the door with his back to it. He knocked twice loudly and waited for a reply. Under his breath he muttered, “Knock knock.”

“Who is there?” An agonizingly familiar voice carried through the door.

Error winced and closed his eye sockets. So there was a Toriel here after all. Great. “Um… glitch?” He said on the fly. It had been a long time since he’d made a knock knock joke like this.

“Glitch who?” Toriel asked.

“Glitch is… I mean, I’m sorry about glitch,” Error said wretchedly.

“heh. sorry about what, pal?” A third voice joined in. Error’s eye sockets flew open.

There, floating in front of him with a genial expression, was a Sans. He looked like a ghost that had never had a rough day in his life. He had a substantial ponch, soft eyes, and a wide grin. Oh, how Error hated that grin. He was about to kill someone who looked happy and welcoming. Damn Fate to hell and back.

<Ooh, we’re in Ghosttale! Isn’t that one of yours, Nnnnn?> Error couldn’t work out what that one voice had said, but he didn’t really need to. He didn’t want the voices to have names. That would be awful for his sanity.

“uh, bud? you there?”

The words were almost overrun by the voice of Fate. <Do your job, Destroyer. My patience wears thin.>

Error flinched from the voice. The ghost Sans seemed to be worried. “hey, bud, why don’t you come with me? my brother’s a healer. i’m sure we can help you with… whatever is wrong with you. i promise we’re not going to hurt you, and i hate to make promises. okay?”

“Please don’t say that,” Error pleaded as he stood up, reaching for his magic to call his blasters, “because I can’t say the same thing to you.”

The ghost Sans tilted his head. “and what do you mean by that, bud?”

Those were his last words before Error’s blaster that he had summoned behind him tore through him with magical fire. Error stared at the dust that floated in the wind. He felt absolutely sick to his stomach. As he heard the ghost Toriel opening the door behind him and prepared to attack, he whispered to the wind, “I’m sorry.”

#What We do for family fic #destructivedeath #glitcheddeath #afterdeath #sanscest #error sans #errortale #reaper sans #reapertale #dream sans #dreamtale #forced god of destruction error #yastaghr

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justjessame · 4 years

Text

A Little Ass and a Lotta Sass Chapter 23: Let Them Eat Cake...And Choke on It

If I’d assumed that Negan and me plus that damn bed of his would make us fucking husks, literally, then I’d not considered the challenge he’d take upon knowing that we’d be forced into celibacy for six weeks after Satan’s eagerly awaited grandchild showed their tiny being. And damn it if he didn’t take that fucking challenge seriously.

Every moment that wasn’t spent apart, was spent enjoying one another to the fullest extent of our abilities. And I have to say, I’d never tapped into half of my abilities. There wasn’t a surface, horizontal or vertical in our rooms that was safe. The bookshelves, how many books tumbled to the floor as he pounded into me, causing noises that I’d never thought I could make flow from me? Or that fucking table we ate at, would it ever look the same to me after being bent over it, Negan’s teeth marking my shoulder as we came together one of the only times he could stand to not have me facing him? The bed, of course, the walls, most definitely, the shower, the bathtub, the floor, every inch that we could be pressed into, we were.

And, as surprising as his ardor was at the news, my return of it nearly took his fucking breath away. That I was as insatiable for him, that I wanted him as badly, this we could show. But those three little words, the ones we kept tap dancing around, those were still elusive. Physical love, that was simple. Letting Negan know that he owned me, bodily, was as easy as breathing or kissing him. But that he owned my heart? Well, that wasn’t easy for me, and it was made more difficult by his inability to use the words himself.

We made love, so many ways, places, and I could swear that even with multiple showers and baths, we carried the scent of one another around like the strongest colognes in the world. That as surely as him branding me, every person knew for certain that I belonged to him, and he to me.

It came in as a horrible shock, that our bubble of feelings and adoration, didn’t keep us safe. It happened as the third month of my residence in the Sanctuary passed. Negan was getting the tray holding our dinner from the delivery guy, as I handed back the dishes from lunch, when I noticed the puzzled look on his face. I joined him as he sat it down on the table and let my own focus follow his. The tray looked practically normal. I say practically, because whomever had made it, nearly got it right. The plates held nearly the same thing, but not quite.

Negan, since that first meal, had ALWAYS had the exact same meal as I did. I still hadn’t asked if the rest of the community did as well, still too cowardly to hear if it was so. Yet this meal had subtle differences. An added garnish to his plate, which we knew was meant for him because of the tiny tag attached, some extra grape tomatoes to the small salad. And I knew that he felt the same chill as I felt. This was wrong. So horribly wrong.

I saw him swallow hard and his fist clench. “Do you think it’s yours that’s poisoned, or mine?” He growled, meeting my eyes.

“Both,” I whispered, feeling completely certain. “Whoever made the plates, they’d know that if I wanted something different from your plate, you’d give it to me, or if you saw that yours had more, then you’d switch.” I closed my eyes and fought down the urge to throw up. “So they had to make sure, and that means, they’re both poisoned.”

He took a deep breath, and sat down on the chair I usually took. Pulling me onto his lap, he kissed my forehead. “They’re fucking dead. Whoever they are.” My heart was pounding so hard that I knew he could feel it, if not hear it. “Why would someone do this?”

“Frankie,” I answered, knowing immediately. “She’s being forced to work in the kitchens, so she’d have access.” As for the poison, I couldn’t know, because there was no way to know what she’d used.

He nodded, his hand rubbing my back, my bump was starting to show and his other came up to cup it. “Tanya works for the good doctor,” he added, thinking along the same lines as me. “She looks about as fucking happy as-” he tried to swallow back another growl. “Come on,” he put me on my feet in front of him. “Let’s go give the Sanctuary a show.”

Before we left, I made him take away all signs that the meals weren’t identical. Using a napkin, since we weren’t sure what they’d doused our food with, he tossed the garnish and the extra ‘treats’ in the trash, and took up the tray. And I picked up Lucille, and we made our way to the kitchen after he’d asked Arat to gather everyone in the cafeteria, especially Frankie and Tanya.

Downstairs, the group of Negan’s people were waiting. I saw the redhead and the doctor’s assistant waiting as well, in front of the crowd, but looking unconcerned. It was a good front, but I could see the fear in their eyes, they knew what was coming. Or they thought they did.

“Ladies and gentlemen,” Negan’s voice rumbled as they all hit their knees. “Get up, and listen very fucking closely.” He sat the tray down on the table in the center of the masses, and took Lucille carefully from me. Propping her over his shoulder, which for once wasn’t encased in leather, since we’d been dressed for dinner alone, he glanced around the room. “Why do rules exist? Because without rules, the world is fucking chaos.” He kept his eyes moving, but every now and then he’d touch me. My arm, my hand, just letting me know that he was with me. “And punishment? That’s the consequence for breaking the fucking rules.” He sighed, and Lucille came off his shoulder and he handed her back to me. “Now some rules are so fucking obvious they shouldn’t fucking have to be explained, but I guess I fucking thought too highly of you all.” I watched as he motioned to Arat and Laura, who’d apparently been brought up to speed by Arat about Negan’s request for his former wives’ presence. Arat grabbed Frankie’s arm, and Laura took Tanya’s and ushered them forward. “I gave these two women the fucking world. I gave them the fucking keys to the fucking kingdom. And when I found the ONE fucking woman who could give me EVERY single fucking thing I could ever want, I gave them a new purpose.” He was glaring at them, as I held Lucille casually. I could see their eyes flicker from him to me and then to the bat. "Callie could have asked for you both to be fucking exiled. She could have insisted that I toss you out and let you TRY to fucking survive out there. She was benevolent, she was kind." I was thinking that I hadn't asked because I hadn't considered it, but OK, make me sound merciful. "And the two of you let your fucking envy overrule your fucking brains."

“Unwritten rules aren’t supposed to NEED to be written, but fuck if I’m not being forced to fucking ANNOUNCE one.” He took my hand and held it up, kissing my knuckles. “This woman, Callie Grimes, is your fucking Queen. She’s carrying my fucking child inside of her, right now, and that means that she’s doubly fucking protected. You touch her, you die. You look at her anyway that I deem fucked up, you die. And-” he refocused on the two women standing before him with Arat and Laura glaring at the back of their heads. “If you TRY to fucking poison her, you will fucking die.”

“Arat, Laura, help the ladies take a seat, it’s dinner time.” And I watched as the two women who apparently plotted to fucking kill me, my baby, and Negan sit like the fucking chairs were on fire. “Take up those forks, and eat. Every single fucking bite.” A hush was all around us, but Frankie looked up at him with defiance in her eyes. “EAT!” He demanded, and she closed her mouth on whatever rebuttal she had planned. The two of them picked up their forks, and ate. It didn’t take long. The plates weren’t even halfway gone when their mouths began to foam, and not long after that they were choking, and then, as we all watched, first Tanya, then Frankie died.

Negan pulled me to him and kissed my forehead. “Arat, Laura, add these two the our outer wall security, at least now they’re fucking useful.” He pulled away and looked around him at the still gathered population of the Sanctuary. “They didn’t fucking care if they killed me, do you see that? The proof? Let this lesson stand. Who are you?”

The echoes of voices saying “Negan” rushed over me. And I felt the ease of breathing again. Without fear, at least for now.

The crowd dispersed, and Negan tugged me toward the kitchen. Food, we still needed to fucking eat. As he gathered together something that would constitute dinner, I hopped up onto a counter. Lucille lay next to me, and I watched him move as casually around this industrial sized kitchen as he had the one back in Alexandria. We ate at the counter, he situated himself between my legs and fed me bites as he ate too.

“I think I want to expand our apartment,” he said, plopping a strawberry into my mouth. “We’re gonna need more room when they arrive, and I think I want us to have a kitchen up there.” I nodded as I chewed. “I’ll get some people on it, tomorrow.”

We ate through our fresh and raw dinner, the tension of nearly being assassinated rolling off of us as we enjoyed one another’s company. “Do you even have the appliances to make a kitchen up there?” I asked, as he helped me down from my perch.

He took Lucille into one hand and my hand in his other as we walked out of the room. Arat and Laura were the only two waiting in the main room. They followed us as we made our way back to our rooms and Negan was telling me just how easily he could furnish a kitchen, a nursery, and any other fucking rooms I wanted to add to our floor.

As we walked back into our rooms, Arat and Laura took position on either side of our door. Great, I thought, door guarding was making a fucking comeback. And fuck, he’d probably become more unbearably protective now. But, that tiny overthinking part of my brain chimed in, after that fucking scare would that be suck a bad fucking thing?

I was right and wrong about Negan’s reaction after the attempt on our lives. He did decide that door guards were a temporary necessity, but he also made sure that I knew that I still wasn’t a prisoner in our rooms. And, as he woke me the next morning to remind me of our celibacy preparations, I realized that it was a small price to pay. For safety. For peace of mind.

#negan x ofc #The Walking Dead #Smut #character death

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xmenageriie · 5 years

Text

— @bucketfullofocs

When and if Marianne found herself back at Home Plate, she would find a small stack of holotapes sitting beside a worn but still functioning holotape player. Two of the holotapes were bound together and set aside from the rest, while the other two sat under a small note. It was simple but written in familiar hand writing, and it said: For Marianne. I’m sorry.

Each holotape was numbered just to ensure she listened to them in order.

The first opened with the crackling of static, then his voice.

“I. . .

I wasn’t sure how to start this at first. I’d been thinking it over for about an hour now, and I think I know now that there’s no other way to start than by apologizing.

I’ve invaded your privacy, and I’m sorry.

Someone, I don’t know who yet, dropped these holotapes off. I wasn’t aware when I started listening that they would be yours. But when I did realize, I didn’t stop listening. I should have. I know better than that, but my curiosity got the better of me. That’s no excuse, but you should know that I had a moment of weakness that I’m not proud of.

Those holotapes were of you speaking, so I assumed at first that you had made them. The more I think about it, the more it seems that’s not the truth. If it is, then I’m doubly sorry. Your thoughts are your own, and I shouldn’t have pried. If they were taken without your permission or knowledge, then I will make it my goal to find the sneak recording you.

But on these tapes, I heard you say things that. . . confused me and made me happy.

I don’t mean to sound like I’m bragging, but people have made comments in the past. You’re hardly the first to take note of my physique, but you are the only person whose opinion mattered to me. I can’t quite recall exactly what you said, but I think it was along the lines of me being a twenty out of ten.”

There was a moment of laughter, and it sounded both pure and embarrassed. “I didn’t think that was possible. That holotape alone baffled me, but it was the second one that really hit me.”

There was another pause, then a shaky breath.

“Again, I’m not sure how to start. I thought talking to this machine would make it easier, but it doesn’t.

Hearing you compliment me, I’ve begun to accept it. You tell me not to doubt you, that you always mean what you say. I’ve begun to trust that. When you tell me nice things about the way I look or the way I handled a situation, I’m not inclined to disagree right away. But you said. . .

You asked yourself if you loved me, and you didn’t sound sure. I don’t blame you.

But then you said you’d never approach me about it bec——! Ah, dammit. Hold on. Please, if you’re not upset with me yet, listen to the next tape.”

The second began as if there hadn’t been a three minute swapping of tapes.

“You said you’d never approach me about it because you didn’t want to take advantage of me. You didn’t want me to feel like I owed you, or that I was in love with you because of everything you’d done for me.

I don’t mean to be rude, Marianne, but that’s silly.

Yes, I feel a lot for you because of all those things. You helped me when no one else would, you’ve spent time with me outside of battle and made me forget that the world outside these walls is a horrible, selfish place.

It wasn’t an instantaneous thing. You didn’t do me a service and flip my entire world upside down. I don’t doubt you’re capable of doing that for another person. You are that influential, that wonderful and kind.

I don’t want you thinking that I. . .

. . . that I love you because of that alone.

It did sway me quite a bit, I’ll admit, but it took time. It took you seeing me at my worst, seeing me behave so hatefully. I know that couldn’t have been easy for you, with you being so open-minded. I know the way I acted before was disgusting, and it could have turned you away. It should have turned you away. It took you learning the same things I learned about myself and telling me that it didn’t matter.

It took you sharing secrets with me. It took you convincing me that it’s alright to share my secrets too. It took you smiling at me and telling me that there’s no one else you’d rather kill mirelurks with. It’s so many things, and at the same time it’s just you.

I don’t care what you have or haven’t done for me.

Because despite everything I just said, there’s one thing that keeps these unusual feelings from going away — and it’s the idea that I’m going to see you tomorrow.

Even when I was in the Brotherhood, I never really had a reason to look forward to the next day. I had missions and purposes, but none of them made me wake up happy. I open my eyes, and I wonder what good we’ll do. I wonder what stories you’ll tell me when you come home.

I don’t think much about our past together. I will always be grateful for what you’ve done, don’t misunderstand. Nothing will ever change how appreciative I am of you, but that’s not what occupies my thoughts most days. More than anything, I’m imagining what our future might be like. The kind of future it might be is up to you, Marianne.

I don’t care what happens or what choice you make. Whether it be as friends or something else, the result will be the same. I’ll care for you endlessly and with my whole heart. You’ll always be important to me.

I wanted to leave these tapes here because you deserve to know. I disrespected you by listening to the holotapes given to me, and I’m deeply sorry. But when I thought about apologizing, it didn’t feel like enough. You’ve always been honest with me, and I should do the same. You know everything now, and I wanted to give you time to think about it. If you want to think about it. I didn’t want to be there and have my presence pressure you.

You’re the most wonderful woman I’ve ever met, and I hope you know that.

I’ll be back in a day or two. I won’t be at the usual places, so don’t feel obligated to find me. I’ll be fine.

See you later.”

#bucketfullofocs #bucketfullofocs ; marianne #Đ — 「 fighting for the commonwealth ( danse ; ic ) 」#Đ — 「 v. ad meliora ( danse ; fallout ) 」#( you don't have to reply to this! )#( I couldn't resist having him leave her an explanation )#( :3c )

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calleo-bricriu · 5 years

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(( Continued from here. @thegreatestminister ))

"Mm. And very few actually are, unless one considers, 'I haven't looked at the Quidditch scores page today' curiosity, which I absolutely don't."

The invitation to sit and, worse, have a drink stopped anything else he'd been about to say; those were the sorts of invitations that, in Calleo's line of work, often only seemed benign and exactly what they were on the surface. More often, it was little more than a simple trick to get someone cursed or poisoned--or trapped.

Minister or not, anyone he didn't know exceptionally well was subject to the same treatment including, strangely enough, Muggles. Not paranoia (or so he told himself), just taking reasonable safety measures.

Calleo eyed the two sofas for far, far too long, as though he expected one or both of them to spring to life and bite. Really, though, it was more that he'd purposely cursed the one chair in front of his own desk to be uncomfortable enough that nobody would want to stay terribly long if they sat in it and the sofa in his office was just always soaked--like everything else in the room--with dark magic.

Always prudent to sweep for the latter and that did always take a minute or two, or even a bit longer on soft surfaces or surfaces made out of some sort of animal hide; those always absorbed magic more than their cloth counterparts.

Of course, nothing; this was the Minister's office and, of all places in the Ministry, the last place one would be likely to find cursed or trapped furniture or poisoned tea would be in the Minister's office. On the other hand, nobody would expect it in the Minister's office either...

The overall much more casual look of the Minister didn't help matters either; more than likely it was nothing, just the end of the day, not needing to be fully put together, and possibly trying to seem more relatable.

...and that could have easily been a minor trap as well, doubly so considering how recently loud Calleo had been about the Minister's job performance.

For his part, Calleo looked as he normally looked by the end of the work day--which was largely the same as he looked at the start: A little tired and like he'd lost a fight with a charity shop's bin.

Today's collection of what happens when you get dressed in the dark at 4am consisted of a knitted, barely qualifying as muted purple sweater that had not only fringes around the cuffs but a massive fringed collar on it as well. The shirt underneath seemed to be nothing but repeating prints of cartoonish looking parrots, the trousers that had likely been black at one point now long faded to their dye's undertone making them look almost navy blue, and there was absolutely no excuse for rainbow scaled clogs, yet that was exactly what he was wearing. And, to top off the whole loud affair, the small bits of socks that managed to peek out through frayed cuffs were neon green and bright sky blue striped.

It all clashed fantastically with his nearly orange and definitely a little disheveled hair. Around his neck, a chain of variously sized blue beads helpfully kept him from misplacing his glasses by being attached to them. No need to wear the things if he wasn’t reading, though.

While Calleo didn't directly notice the wand draw, as the Minister was behind him, his own personal warding certainly did. Nothing particularly dangerous (for the moment), more an alert that something potentially less than nice might be going on and a mild suggestion that Calleo might want to take a look.

That caused him to turn just enough to see what was happening. Perfectly harmless, at least after watching what was going on for a couple of seconds. The wand wood, at the very least, was something of which Calleo took note as, if things did go pear shaped, it would always be a good idea to use a wand that would perform better against whatever wood the opposing wand happened to be made from.

In the end, he decided the Minister wasn't exactly likely to try and pull anything dodgy (annoying maybe, but not dodgy) and found that, to no surprise, nothing in the immediate area was cursed, hexed, jinxed, or poisoned.

Once he'd finished deciding that the Minister's office wasn't one massive trap, Calleo walked right over to the arm of one of the sofas and, for a moment, appeared as though he were planning to just perch on the edge of it. Instead, he sort of flopped backwards onto the sofa, letting his legs dangle over the arm.

After all, if the Minister was being casual that was an implicit invitation to also be casual--or he might have done the same thing regardless if only to see what happened.

"It's usually Aurors who ask me that question and I'm almost always in an interrogation room when it they do," Calleo laughed, "you haven't just caught me doing card tricks in front of Muggles, so I doubt the answer is the same as the one I'd give in that situation."

"So!" He stretched, much like a horrible ginger cat that probably wasn't even supposed to be allowed on the furniture to begin with, "You've either called me up here to try and hand out some sort of punishment with which I may or may not comply."

Calleo briefly turned his head to shoot the bits of his hair that had the nerve to be long enough to touch the floor a dirty look before shrugging and, for the most part, looking at the ceiling, "Or you want to kiss and make up, or you want to try and discuss the last few days as if either one of us are rational, reasonable adults. Roughly thirty-three percent chance of any single option or a fifty-fifty chance of a combination of any two options."

"Or, you've gone temporarily mad, and it's all three options."

#thegreatestminister #hp rp #private #ministry of magic

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desertbroad · 5 years

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kaj + (inverted) tropes: part two! * * i don’t know all the actual Official TM names for these tropes, so most are made up. also, you might notice the regular trope list (part 1 of this headcanon) is significantly longer. this is because kaj has a few main inverted tropes but tons more regular ones, since tropes are like atoms: they make up everything. i just wanted to focus on the few inversions that created her character and let the rest come naturally! under a read more for length. ** also as of 7/6/19 part one isn’t done yet. yes i know please don’t shame me ok IM GETTING TO IT

fridged woman (aka back from the dead)—

for this one i took inspiration from laura moon from american gods, with a few tweaks (love neil gaiman, but some of the things about her character are...a bit squicky). unlike a good number of women in media, kaj isn’t shoved over gently and pronounced dead so that a man can grow from her pain. in fact, she’s shot in the head twice, pronounced dead, & buried. while her “death” means more pain and character development for the characters surrounding her, it means pain and character development for her, too. truth be told, she survives a hell of a lot more than any average person should, especially one with her low luck stat. half of this is the fun and wacky way new vegas’ world works (obviously, no real person could survive all this), but also because of her good ol’ courier determination. things that should’ve fridged kaj but haven’t include: two shots to the head, numerous combat scrapes, being stabbed, having her brain/heart/spine removed, having a bomb collar attached to her neck, killing an entire fortification of trained legionnaires, stepping on landmines, etc etc. the courier is pretty much the bruce willis of fallout.

world ending vengeance—

specifically applies to certain characters. while most others who piss kaj off get the full brunt of her wrath (see: caesar, mr. house, elijah, general oliver, ulysses), benny, along with dr. mobius & the think tank & mcnamara*, get a pass. in fact, she lets him go not once or twice, but on three separate occasions, even knowing he’s likely to betray her again. the reason why? not even kaj knows. some people speculate it’s because she likes him / slept with him (incorrect; she liked house to a degree, and slept with caesar); others speculate it’s because they’re so similar (also incorrect; she shared an alarming number of similarities with ulysses & elijah). the theory that comes closest to the truth is that she pities him. it fits in line her past behavior with mobius & the think tank, who were physically unable to see the effects of their actions and thus were spared a horrible fate. likewise, kaj seems to have judged benny to be innocent in her own personal court, and though he continues to be a thorn in her side again and again, she refuses to “sentence” him for anything. it helps his cause that his plan helped her take over vegas, and he created yes man, one of the only living beings she’s ever fully trusted. also a slight inversion of kaj’s maneater / black widow trope; the one person she truly should seduce and kill, she doesn’t.

that said, benny doesn’t get away from their encounters without any punishment—after narrowly escaping being crucified, both kaj and benny have matching rope burns around their wrists. it’s her morbid idea of a joke.

*mcnamara doesn’t fit within this trope, but kaj spares the bos for veronica & christine’s sake, despite yes man’s warnings. also for the off chance that they might convert to being her allies (they don’t, and this choice helps lend itself to more BOS trouble all over the wasteland).

white man cowboy—

kind of a simple inversion that’s been done before, but an important one and one that i like a lot. for starters, the “john wayne” cowboy is a bastardization of a history that was made up of ethnic minorities and whitewashed for hollywood aesthetic (also fuck you john wayne). while none of my research has come up with anything about women of color or nonbinary people in the western scene, only moc (whether this is intentional or not, i’m not sure), i still wanted to write kaj as non-male. frankly, this is because i wanted her to be an inversion of tired tropes, and that included being a debonair, byronic woman / non gender conforming hero (think gentleman jack) instead of a debonair, byronic white dude. we’ve got 20 of those for every fleshed out woman/enby on screen, lbr. kaj is also a femme fatale, but only by coincidence; she’s more of a wandering heart breaker than a necessarily dangerous woman, much like many of the heroes on screen.

i also find that non-men of color are one of the most underrepresented minorities in fiction—even media that celebrates diversity simplifies them down (hamilton), or centers their narrative and entire purpose around a man (hamilton, again). nevermind nonbinary people / trans folk. for that reason, i wanted kaj’s story to be about a woman of color / someone who doesn’t conform to expectations and doesn’t allow herself to be put in the sidelines for a white person or a male to lead her life. and regardless of whether a woman filling this swaggering, womanizing cowboy role is accurate to history or not, fallout’s setting lends itself an air of exaggeration, so i felt it was appropriate to include her here, instead of arguing with people over whether someone like her existed in actual history (my suspicions say yes, and that these people have simply been erased from the narrative for the convenience of certain people’s feelings, but still).

smarter than you look / deadly doctor (this one actually has a tvtropes page! look it up!)—

from the deadly doctor page : ‘ surely the ultimate example of the morally ambiguous doctorate. one reason for this is due to all his/her training : while having advanced knowledge on the human body can be used to save people, it also gives all the knowledge on how to injure and kill people with minimal effort by knowing all the body's weak points. some more sympathetic examples equate to the medical version of a well-intentioned extremist, who may certainly have good (or at least sympathetic/understandable) intentions but ruthless medical ethics. ’

one of the most important things kaj took from her thorough education is medical training—unable to depend on anyone after being traumatized, trusting any doctor who happened along to treat her illnesses was out of the question. she was also smart enough to know the original kaj wouldn’t be around to heal her up forever. thus, she began her training as a self preservation instinct; but over time, as she grew and relearned how to be compassionate and empathetic, she decided to use healing for good, too. trained as a young girl by the original kaj, and then later trained officially as a combat medic by the ncr, kaj has spent a countless amount of hours inside army tents, healing wounds and assisting doctors with tough cases. she even keeps a medical bag on her person for exactly that sort of situation (especially since supplies in the mojave aren’t exactly easy to dig up). though she’s a big scientist in general (the big mt saw to that), medicine is her specialty. she’s even stitched up her own wounds, though it’s not something she particularly enjoys (it takes a lot of whiskey and something for her to bite down on).

for reference, consider this scene of anton from no country for old men (TW: he’s performing self surgery, so it’s pretty gruesome). though both anton and kaj’s lifestyles are rough and even sadistic at times, they both still have medical training—if not to protect others, then to at least protect themselves. and like anton, it shows kaj’s inability to trust anyone with her most important commodity: herself. this makes her surgery in the big empty doubly as horrifying, given she took specific pains for something like this to not happen. it’s why she refuses to leave without all of her organs (also, stubbornness). all of this is just one of the ways kaj is way more ... well, everything than she looks. which leads into...

underestimate me if you dare, aka femme fatale (sort of?)—

though fallout prides itself on being a soft reset on the world, people’s perceptions of minorities are still ... iffy, due to real world influences by the creators. thus, the people around kaj often jump to assumptions about her based on her identity—mostly, that she’s weak. once, it offended her, but now it’s a perception that she encourages. after all, she’s not flat out strong like your usual hero, but is more of a hamlet-type; smart, perceptive, fast, and willing to strike from the shadows. it’s hard to do any of that if you’re putting on a big performance about your power (though admittedly, she’s been known to go big or go home if she’s planning on killing everyone; if she’s not faking nice and telling you what you wanna hear, trouble’s ahead).

of course, the reality is that kaj is a powerhouse. but these perceptions about her supposed weakness are why posing as a legion member is so easy—those who think she’s weak underestimate her or keep their distance, which gives her leave to do what she wants. she’s viewed more like a pet than a person by most, and though it frustrates her at times to pretend, it also gives her leave to do more, than if she were to simply pose as a man.

all that said, kaj doesn’t exactly qualify as a femme fatale. most of her lovers are just information givers, and they escape from their interaction unharmed. kaj killing her bed mates is actually less likely than her just sparing them and letting them go, none the wiser. of course, you kill one tyrant (maybe two or three) and suddenly you’re a black widow—

#headcanon.#long post //#sb: if you love benny so much why dont you make a blog for him #me: THAT OPENS THE DOOR................#if i make one for benny i will make one for every one of my fnv faves and it will just be a MESS !!!#anyway hi heres the basis of kaj's character in a neat post !#i think i got everything

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michael-hearteyes-wheeler · 6 years

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”I’m drunk and I hate everything but you. I love you a lot.” + lumax. cause, not to be dramatic or anything, but I’m DYING for lumax content rn

[A/N] This was such an adorable prompt! Im sorry it took me forever to finish it. I was struggling with one of the scenes, so I just included a real life situation and it helped a lot (the one with the jocks and beer pong lmao). I really hope you enjoy!! 💖💖💖

“Why would anyone need a house that big?” Max scoffed, looking up at the almost mansion sized home. The party had barely started, but already the lawn was crawling with people.

Max really didn’t believe Stacey Altman when she said she was inviting the entire senior class, but now that she was actually here, she would call that number an understatement. She supposed the large turnout was probably thanks to their team winning this years homecoming. A loss probably wouldn’t have resulted in the debauchery she was sure was taking place inside.

“Yeah, isn’t Stacy an only child too?” Will sneered. The Party, like everyone else, had each been handed one of the obnoxious green and gold invitations. Their school colors, a vaguely terrifying picture of their mascot, and bulky block letters that looked more like a ransom note than anything else.

At first, they all agreed not to go. Parties were lame, and none of them really even cared about Football. Then, Max had gotten bored, and El was easy enough to talk into going. One convincing led to another and now everyone was standing on the Altman’s lawn and looking at the house apprehensively.

“Are we going to go inside? Or just keep standing here?” Lucas finally asked. Max, determined to have a good time, took that as the motivation she needed. She grabbed his hand and pulled him into the house.

The scene before them was pretty much exactly what they expected. Loud music blared out of speakers from somewhere in the living room, and dozens of people danced around the space. The kitchen counters were covered in drinks and bowls of chips that no one was actually going to eat. Beer pong was set up in the dining room, and a group of football players were doing keg stands in the backyard.

It wasn’t like this was the first party they had ever gone too, it was just the biggest.

Max felt a little overwhelmed. She pulled Lucas and El into the kitchen, and poured each of them a drink from the horribly sweet, red concoction in the punch bowl. All three made dramatic grimacing faces as they took their first sip. The drink was bitter, and stung like rubbing alcohol, but the aftertaste was worse; Cough syrup and cheap wine.

“Are you losers drinking tonight?” Max asked the other boys, holding out another solo cup. Will and Dustin happily obliged, but Mike mumbled something about being the ‘designated driver’ and Max rolled her eyes. It’s not like they did not live close enough to walk or anything.

The party awkwardly hovered around the kitchen for awhile after that. They watched the party happen around them, making fun of people for one thing or another. After a few minutes Max could feel whatever it was she was drinking start to polish the edges of her perception. Jokes were funnier, sensations further away, she felt warm. It was a good feeling, and fast acting too. She filled up her cup for the third time.

Like all parties, however, the group you go with dissolved pretty quickly once people get acclimated.

Will was the first to get pulled away. A boy he knew from his art class waved him over and the two disappeared upstairs. Max and Mike gave each other raised eyebrow looks because Will was definitely blushing. Unbeknownst to Will, they had a running bet about how long it would take for them to start dating.

Next to go was Dustin. Throughout high school he had become quite the ladies man, and he was determined to chat up Haley Jones, his current crush. Actually, crush was an understatement, his new obsession was more accurate. Not in a creepy way really, more in just a painfully devoted loyal sort of way. It was sweet, and definitely really fun to make fun of him for.

Then it was Mike and El. A song came on that she actually liked, and she pulled him towards the large group of people dancing. Mike wasn’t really a dancer, and honestly neither was El, but they could certainly make the best out of it. Max watched them get swallowed up by the crowd until not even Wheeler’s mop of hair could be seen.

So it was just Lucas and Max, both whispering to each other about people from school acting like fools, and laughing so hard they had to hold onto the counter for balance.

“Do you want to dance or something?” She asked, finished off her third drink.

“Naw, but beer pong might be fun. I gotta use the bathroom and then i’ll be back.” He winked and pinched her waist as he left. She made heart eyes at his back while he walked away. She poured herself another drink.

Then things got… fuzzy.

Another massive group of people showed up, people Max had never even seen before, and the crowded house got that much more crowded. It was so goddamn loud. The group made a beeline for the booze and Max stepped out of the kitchen and out of their way. Now she was just hovering by herself at the edge of the living room. Where was Lucas? Oh right the bathroom! Jeez, he’s been gone for a long time.

A loud crash and the sound of people cheering caught her attention. Drink in hand, she shuffled her way towards the sound and into the dining room.

The dining room smelled overwhelmingly of beer and that same fruity cocktail mix that was currently making her brain fuzz. Max watched for a moment, a group of boys playing beer pong. Sticking their grubby hands in and out of the cups of booze, plinking the ball back and forth across the table. It was disgusting. Hadn’t Lucas said something about playing this? Maybe she should just wait here for him.

A big sweaty looking football player, sporting his Letterman like a coat of arms, stuck a hand in one of the cups to retrieve the ball. Max grimaced.

“You should really be using water.” She scoffed as another cup fell over, washing sudsy beer out onto the floor. They guys all turned to her and laughed.

“Water doesn’t get the job done.” The sweaty football player knocked his knuckles against his head.

“Yeah, plus, the alcohol like, kills all the germs.” Another jughead added from where he was leaning against the wall.

“That’s so ridiculously untrue.” Max chuckled.

“Yeah well, it’s more of a boys game anyway. Wouldn’t want you to get your pretty little hands dirty.” The sweaty guy replied nonchalantly, and lined up his shot.

“Oh, you’re so on.” Max would never admit to it if pressed, but she was so competitive that it almost wore her out. That fact was doubly true if the person egging her on was getting personal about it, and the fact that she was a girl? Yeah, that was pretty damn personal. She chugged the rest of her cup and moved to one end of the table, across from sweaty.

He raised his eyebrows but nodded, and put all of his cups back in line. “You need me to run through the rules, princess?”

“Throw the ball into a cup, if it gets in the other person takes a drink. It’s not rocket science.” She brushed her hair out of her face. As much as she wanted to kick this guys ass, she was also way to out of it to be truly pissed.

For most of the game, it was pretty much a stalemate. He got a cup, she got a cup. He drinks, she drinks. The beer is warm and salty and she tries not to think about how many hands had been in that cup. They had been right about one thing though, water certainly wouldn’t have got her feeling this way.

Then, one well placed toss. That’s all it took. A cup of jungle juice spilled over, cascading red liquid all across her white shirt. She looked down at herself in horror.

“You son of a bitch! You did that on purpose.” Max had no way of knowing that but it wasn’t a hard guess.

“Not me babe, it’s all part of the game.” Sweaty snorted, high-fiving one of his friends.

She would see about that. Anger sobered her. It took less than five minutes for her to get him the rest of the way out. Plink, plink, plink, plink. The rest of the room cheered for her, and egged him on. Chanting for him to chug when he finally lost.

“Wow Mayfield, im impressed. You didn’t come here with that loser boyfriend of yours did you?” Sweaty asked, lowering his gaze at her from across the table.

Suddenly she felt sick. Like really sick. And drunk, really drunk. She looked down at her shirt and back up at him and all of the other boys who were staring at her. She needed a bathroom.

“Fuck off, meathead. I don’t date dogs.” Max was seething now, she turned and walked out of the dining room. It took her awhile to find a bathroom, and every step felt more and more heavy. More and more fuzzy.

When she finally did, she sighed in relief and closed the door behind her. She did not want to throw up. She sat on the edge of the bathtub and tried to just breathe deeply, in and out, find a little bit of clarity. The party sounded really far away. Where the hell was Lucas? Where were any of her friends? Time moved so sluggishly that it was hard to tell exactly how long it had been since she last saw them.

She heard voices right outside the door, and the knob jiggle.

And instead of acting like a regular normal person, and standing up to let whoever it was use the restroom, she let herself fall back into the bathtub and closed the curtain behind her. This is a good idea Max, they will do whatever they need too and then leave and you can calm down.

Max recognized the voices to be that of Stacy, the party thrower, and Valerie, Stacy’s best friend. They sounded about as drunk as Max felt.

“Thank god, a little bit of quiet.” Stacy sighed as soon as the door latched closed behind her.

“I know right? At least it’s a good turn out.”

“Yeah I guess, but a lot of people showed up who I totally didn’t want to be here.”

“Oh drama? Go on.”

“Well like, when you invite nerds, you don’t expect them to come. I was just being nice but they had to actually show up. Did you see Henderson talking to Haley? Like he stands a chance. What a loser.”

“Oh I know! And all of his nerdy friends are here too. At least the rest of them date amongst themselves.”

Max was practically vibrating with anger at this point. No amount of ‘Just stay and wait for them to leave’ was helping. What if they kept going? What if they kept saying worse and worse shit? It was their shrieky and slurred laughter that finally pushed her over the edge. In a flash, she ripped the shower curtain back open, and from her place in the tub she stared daggers at them.

“What the hell-” Stacy began, looking totally appalled.

“Listen, Stacy! The only reason so many people came to your party is because you have a big house and free booze, not because anyone actually likes you! The next time I hear you talk about my friends i’m going to kick your ass!” Again, fueled by anger, Max easily rose to her feet and stepped out of the tub. “Oh, and that dress looks terrible on you.”

Sometimes you gotta fight shallow with shallow. Besides, it was an ugly dress.

Max wasn’t even listening to whatever they were yelling at her as she left. She flipped the bird behind her back as she went. It was so loud out here. She was so angry. Where the hell was lucas!?

She stumbled her way back through the house, avoiding the dining room, weaving around groups of people and spreading through others. How many living rooms did this place have? It took ages just to get from one side of the house to the other. Eventually, she found herself once again in the kitchen. It smelled so strong of booze that the nausea she had bated off was back, and kicking. She felt her skin ripple with goosebumps that was followed by a surge of heat. She really didn’t want to be the girl who pukes in the sink at a party.

Just then, a cool breeze nearly knocked her over, and her attention turned to a small side door.

Outside! Her senses screamed. Quiet, fresh air!

She was moving before she even finished the thought.

Max let the door slam behind her as she stepped outside. The lawn was pretty much empty, aside from a few people sitting around a small bonfire at the opposite end. She walked sluggishly toward the end of the porch, and sat with her legs dangling over the edge. The sounds of the party were further away now. She took a few deep breaths to try and clear some of the brain fog that had crept in. You never really notice how drunk you are until you’re alone. If she could just chill like this for a little while, her stomach would calm down and everything would be fine.

What a stupid party. What disgusting idiots those football players had been. Why was Stacy so vile? Max was kicking herself for being the one to suggest they come. Right now they could all be in Wheeler’s basement playing a board game, or at the cabin watching a movie. She was so worked up about the whole thing that she could feel her skin heating up.

A few moments later, she heard the door open behind her, but she assumed it was just someone else looking for a little bit of solace. Then that person walked towards her, and took a seat next to her. Their legs touched the ground where hers just swayed above.

“You doing alright out here? Lucas. His voice was quiet and when she looked at him he smirked, a beer still in his hand. It was probably only his second, maybe third. She felt embarrassed.

“Im fine.” She snapped back, and then sighed, letting some of the tension leave her shoulders. “I’m not fine. I’m drunk and I hate everything.”

“You hate everything even when you aren’t drunk.” His face was so sobering. Like he could see through her bullshit, but he was still validating her feelings. Gentle.

“Not you.” She let her head fall against his shoulder and her whole body went with her. She was lucky he was strong enough to support the both of them because she basically gave up trying. “A revision. I’m drunk and I hate everything but you.”

“Well in that case,” Lucas wrapped an arm around her waist, pulling her snug against him. She felt him kiss the top of her head and she sighed contently. “Do you want to talk about it?”

“Im sure I will when im sober and can actually like, you know, formulate thoughts. I’m sure you’ll hear all about it.”

“Okay good, i’ll be waiting then.” He was quiet for a moment, and she relished in it. “Instead, can we talk about how cool it is that you beat the football team at beer pong?”

Even though her eyes were sagging closed, she could hear the smile in his voice. She groaned. “I don’t want to talk about that either. They’re gross. I drank shitty warm hand beer.”

“Okay, well, is there something you do want to talk about?”

She adjusted so she could look up at him, but no further than necessary. “Where were you? I haven’t seen you all night. And, how did you know I was out here?”

“Oh, uh, yeah. I kinda got caught up in a pool game. Did you know that the basement is like a full game room? And then someone wanted to play Foosball… It got out of hand. Also you literally almost knocked Will over in your mad dash to get outside. He told me you looked upset.”

Max snorted, and then laughed, and then she was laughing so hard that Lucas had to keep her from slipping off the edge of the porch. “Are you serious? We lost each other because we were both goaded into playing stupid games at this stupid party?”

“I guess so.” Lucas smiled at her, and the warmth of his hands bled through her shirt, making her shiver. He was so god damned competitive, and it was one of the things she loved about him. He was also, however, really god damned handsome and sometimes it still made her knees weak.

“This party kind of sucked.” She finally admitted.

“Yeah, it kind of did. It would have been way more fun to just sit out here.”

“Totally.” She snuggled in closer to his side, “Or… if we had, I don’t know, found one of the hundred rooms in this big stupid house and made out for like, an hour.”

“Hm, yeah, you’re right. That would have been better.” He was silent for a few seconds. “I’ll race you to the top floor.”

“Oh you are so on, Stalker!”

Instead of bolting, Lucas helped Max to her feet, and instead of racing through the house, it was more of him pulling her by the hand really quickly. Weaving in and out of groups of people, and rooms, and hallways. Once they finally got to the top floor, it was a guessing game as to finding an actual available room. They pressed their ears to a lot of doors, and were met with a lot of ‘Fuck off!’ and the usual drunk party girl crying. Luck finally came to them in the form of an oversized storage closet.

Needless to say, it turned the whole night around. More laughing and knocking things over then anything else, but he kissed her tenderly when she wanted him too and held her tightly when she needed him too. He always knew exactly how to make her heart quicken. They made a damn mess in that storage closet, essentially turning old camping gear and extra linens into a pallet on the floor. And there were the golf clubs they had knocked over, and whatever that thing was that fell and shattered. But that was Stacy’s problem.

Lucas always seemed to know the exact right things to say and do. It blew her mind that less than fifteen minutes earlier she had been rightfully angry on the back porch, and now she was lip locked and laughing. His hands tangled in her hair and she was glad she had taken El’s suggestion of bringing a brush so that she wasn’t such a hot mess when she got home. Her stained shirt was another issue, but right now she was just happy to be able to lay her head on his chest and listen to the party from what felt like far away

It was in this contented lul that he spoke again, softly, holding her tight against him. “How are you feeling? Still drunk and… hateful?”

“Yeah. Still drunk. I still hate everything but you.” She giggled, and cuddled even closer. “I love you a lot.”

He kissed the top of her head. “I love you a lot too, Madmax.”

As soon as the sounds of the people started dying down, they made their way hand in hand back downstairs; giddy and flushed and looking totally guilty.

They found Will first. He was almost as blushy as they were, and he said goodbye to his friend from art class in hushed tones before they left.

Then they found Dustin, who had passed out and was using a dog as a pillow. He was definitely the most wasted somehow, and Lucas practically had to carry him to the car.

Lastly, Mike and El found them. The couple were also holding hands, and also looking incredibly guilty. Well, Mike was. El looked so casual it almost through Max for a loop. She was actually thankful that Mike had stayed sober, because there was no way in hell she wanted to walk anywhere right now.

They crammed into Mike’s car, with El at shotgun and Dustin draped across the laps of everyone else in the back.

“So, uh, did you guys have fun?” Mike asked as he pulled the car out of its spot.

Max looked at Lucas, blushing all over again, heart beating fast, and smiled. “Yeah. Lots of fun.”

Lucas could make even the worst night into a good one. A great one. One she was excited to rant to him about all over again tomorrow.

#yall i love lumax so much it hurts a lil #my writing #mine #lumax #stranger things #stranger things 2 #stranger things fanfiction #lumax fanfiction #lucas sinclair #Max Mayfield

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ciaossu-imagines · 6 years

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I’m not sure if anyone cares but

Have an update full of feelings anyways! As I’m sure most of the (few) people still reading this blog know, one of my last posts involved me becoming rather angry and going off on you guys as a collective audience. Was that wrong of me? A little, yes - I shouldn’t have gone off on everyone when the majority of you weren’t the issue (or not a part of that issue). Am I sorry I did it? No, not really. I’m not sorry I got angry and I won’t apologize for feeling the way I did. While it might have seemed petty and out of the blue to the most of you, but that’s only because you guys don’t see the day to day and all the buildup that got me to that point. And it wasn’t just people sending in asks when they shouldn’t - that was more the tipping point, the last jenga block pulled out that caused it all to topple. I’ll get the important update out of the way first so anyone who doesn’t want to read my blatherings (which I’ll hide under the cut just to make doubly sure that nobody who doesn’t want to hears them) can just stop after that.

I’ll be gone until January, when I’ll come back to write the forty remaining posts in the draft folder, and the ten in the inbox. After that, I’m not sure if I’ll be continuing on with Ciaossu-Imagines.

Let me start by making it perfectly clear here that I love writing for KHR. I have so much love for KHR and its characters. Writing them feels natural to me, almost second-nature and these characters, this story still makes me happy, even if it ended years ago.

But writing for this blog - it doesn’t make me happy anymore. It feels less and less like something fun I do to be a part of fandom and more and more like a job. An unpaid, thankless job with a bunch of the shittiest bosses, to be completely honest. Harsh? Yes, but that’s how I feel and I can’t lie about it anymore.

I feel like I do so much work on here for nothing, for the illusion that I’m a part of this fandom when honestly, I’m not. I have maybe one or two friends I’ve met through this blog who talk to me about KHR (and then, even that happens rarely) but for the most part, I don’t even feel like a part of the fandom. I have nobody to rant and rave about the characters or storylines with, to talk about things that infuriated us about KHR and the things we loved. I know it’s a dead fandom but it’s not so dead that there’s not still fans who talk to each other about it. I know, I’ve seen people still doing it. As for those who argue that maybe I should just jump into those discussions, I answer 1) and interrupt a conversation? Didn’t your momma ever teach you manners? and 2) I’m horribly shy and have severe anxiety in social situations, even those online. To those who argue that I might have more people talking to me if I actually answered messages back quicker, I say 1) I have a life outside the internet and limited time on here, most of which I use desperately trying to get enough writing done to feel like I’m keeping up with my blog and 2) again, severe social anxiety; if anyone knew how long I spend rewriting messages in a desperate bid to avoid my online buddies figuring out that I’m kind of a loser and deciding not to talk to me anymore, they would laugh.

I feel like I’m just barely keeping my head above water with this blog, like it’s eating up so much of my time and energy and leaving me drained, with nothing in return. Yes, you guys might not get why I feel that way but that’s because you guys don’t see the messages or asks I get asking if I have this or that ask because it’s been a while and it hasn’t been answered or asking if I’m still active. For the most part, I delete those because it’s easier and I like to hope that an out of sight, out of mind approach will help me ignore them. I delete them so as not to clog dashes with inane content. I really only start answering them when it’s gotten to such a point that I’m feeling fed up and want to kind of bitch about it publicly, in as nice a way as I can. I understand that you’ve sent in a request and you want to read it as soon as possible, that you’re excited and hey, I’m glad you’re excited to read what I write. It’s not so great, my writing, so yes, I’m excited that you’re happy to read it. What I’m not excited about is how much pressure these messages put on me, how rushed I feel all the time in regards to this blog lately. I honestly don’t think people think about the fact that I’m a person, a human being on the other side of this screen. I work five days a week, long exhausting retail shifts, especially now around Christmas. I have chores and errands to do. I have to feed myself, bathe myself, and I have other hobbies and interests. Or I did. It’s gotten to the point where I feel guilty if I want to sit down and watch a television show because oh, there’s still all those asks and just a couple days ago someone was asking for this one or that one, I should be writing instead. I used to love writing fanfiction for other fandoms, even though I never published them anywhere. Now I feel horrible if I even think about writing fanfiction because if I have time to do that, I should be working on writing posts. So I just don’t do any of that stuff anymore. Instead, if I have free time, I get on the computer, open up my draft folder and start trying to squeeze out anything.

And I do this for what? For a handful of likes? There’s only one or two people who reblog and even then, it’s very rare. Yes, I know this fandom isn’t very big but that’s no excuse! Are you afraid the words will ruin your beautiful blog if you reblog? Is it just not good enough - it’s good enough for you to like it but not publicly? I do this for what? For people to send in asks that read more like demands than requests, most without a single please or thank you, like I’m just a machine that you plug in a command and I spit out a story? For people to send in requests that clearly show that they haven’t bothered taking a single second to go up to the little search symbol and type in rules because I’m obviously not worth the iota of respect it takes for them to figure out what I write and don’t write? I’m not saying that I want you all to bow down and worship me, to always send in lavish praise or shit like that. I’m just asking for basic human decency and a little appreciation. And for those fucktards who always end up combating these sorts of questions from writers with ‘oh, but you’re supposed to be doing this for the love of writing like a real writer does’, I combat you with a giant fuck you. There’s no ‘real writers’ for one thing. Every writer is different and honestly, if I was writing for the pure love of writing, I wouldn’t be running an imagines blog. No writer running an imagines blog is doing it for the pure love of writing - we do it because we like writing yes, but also because we love sharing it with the fandoms we love, because we like seeing people enjoy what we do, what we write. And honestly, other than a few people (Martha, Chiwa, kbr, Tati - here’s looking at you), I never get the latter part of that anymore.

I guess that’s it? That’s the end of the rant. All that to say that I feel like I’m drowning running this blog and I’ll be taking time off to get my head together before coming back to write. I’m not sure what the future is going to hold for this blog - I need time to think. But no matter what the future holds, I will say thank you to all those for the two years I’ve had for sure on here - there were precious moments and great happiness and for that I am glad.

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stevenuniversallyreviews · 6 years

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Episode 88: The New Lars

“This looks weird, but don’t jump to conclusions.”

Island Adventure is my lowest-ranked episode of the series, but it’s not my least favorite. All in all, I actually enjoy watching it. The problem, as I explain in greater depth in the review, is that it conveys a horrible message about consent in teen relationships and lionizes Sadie for a bevy of abusive actions, ranging from emotional manipulation to physical assault. And that makes it worse to me than an episode that I just don’t like watching. This is a kid’s show, and it’s not great for a kid’s show to espouse harmful message to kids, particularly when consent is such an important issue in the real world and in Steven Universe.

The New Lars isn’t nearly as bad, but it’s important to compare the two upfront, because both of them rely on the same conceit: Lars is a jerk, so it’s okay when bad things happen to him. The tricky thing is that seeing jerks get their comeuppance is an essential trope in comedy, so it should be okay for bad things to happen to him, but this is the second time that “bad things” involve ignoring Lars’s consent in a way that isn’t inherently comedic. There are fantastical elements to both stories, but forcing someone to do things that they explicitly don’t want to do is a bit more harrowing than, say, getting squashed by a falling anvil. Both episodes are from Raven Molisee and Paul Villeco, two extremely talented animators that I usually love (they did Mirror Gem and Rose’s Scabbard for Pete’s sake), and I wish I could get into their heads just to figure out why they’re so into abusing Lars in a way that evokes actual abuse.

Fortunately, a lot of my problems with Island Adventure aren’t present in The New Lars. We get a crucial slippery slope element to Steven’s behavior that Sadie’s early-episode subterfuge doesn’t grant (we learn that she hid their only way off the island immediately after arriving). Yes, he’s prying a bit too much into Lars and Sadie’s relationship in the first scene, but as soon as he mind swaps he states his determination to “respect Lars’s body and his privacy.” His good nature is his undoing, as he’s unable to play it cruel with Lars’s terrified parents or play it cool with Buck and pals. And it makes sense after seeing positive reactions for following his gut that he takes it over the edge to try and meddle in Lars’s love life. It’s not right, but it makes sense.

(It requires a Steven from a different era of emotional immaturity as well, but this team also did Sadie’s Song so I’ll count their restraint here as a victory.)

((Bear in mind that they also did Warp Tour and The Return and Keeping It Together and Message Received in case y’all think I’m just gonna sit here and pretend Molisee’n’Villeco aren’t amazing.))

Most importantly, Steven apologizes for his actions. If Sadie had shown an ounce of real remorse in Island Adventure, all would be well. The issue isn’t characters behaving badly, because this show would be garbage if everybody was perfect. The issue is not acknowledging bad behavior, and even rewarding it while piling on the victim of it. This episode knows that Lars is the wronged party and that Steven did a bad thing, even if he had good intentions, and in doing so teaches a lesson about consent instead of showing abusive behavior and shrugging it off.

It’s notable that Steven never does anything like this again. Just three episodes later in Kiki’s Delivery Service he accidentally enters Kiki’s dreams and is flustered and apologetic right away despite doing nothing harmful. The best way to make lessons stick is for the characters themselves to learn them, and a big part of Season 3 is showing how Steven has been shaped by past episodes.

And it turns out, a story about how Lars is treated is exactly what I needed. Because after nearly ninety episodes of the series, this is the first time I’ve actually liked Lars as a character. For the whole episode. I’ve always felt something was missing from his generic meanness, but everything clicked when I realized that the self-awareness that fuels his awkwardness is only a small part of his problem: he’s too aware of his status as a side character to be happy.

When Mayor Dewey acknowledges that Beach City is a magnet for disaster in Political Power, it’s a great gag that reveals hidden depths about the character. Lars’s bitter “Every day in Beach City is weird, that’s why I hate it here” is similarly revelatory, but about a character we’ve seen much more of. Lars has been the brunt of weird suffocating plants, a weird mouth-burning prank, a weird island trip complete with weird invisible monster, a weird haunted lighthouse, and now a weird body hijacking. He’s also witnessed the ocean weirdly disappearing and Beach City under siege from a weird space eye and a weird space hand, alongside who knows what else. And the kid who’s always bugging him to hang out is himself weird. This weird kid just took over his body and everyone, including Lars’s own parents, took the kid’s side. Of course Lars sees magic through a sour lens.

It’s so much easier to empathize for someone as ornery as Lars when there’s a good reason behind it, and noticing just how lousy life can be when you’re a regular person in a world of magic is a great reason to be ornery. It’s an excellent contrast to his former friend and fellow frustrating character Ronaldo, and allows Lars to grow within the context of a magical show. I’m not saying Lars is only irate because of this situation, people can be jerks just because they’re jerks and he’s a jerk in mundane situations, but after so many episodes where he seems to learn something and then goes right back to being a jerk, it’s such a relief to get this kind of depth.

And seriously, thank goodness Matthew Moy is still capable of emotional range after spending so many episodes voicing a jerk. He shows it off a bit when Lars admits he’s depressed in Island Adventure (which would’ve been a better character moment if it went anywhere in that episode), but voicing Lars as Steven must have been a blast. Even as a kid, it always bugged me when mindswapped characters switched voice actors, because that’s not how voices physically work and I was a stickler of a kid. Moy shines as an exuberant, doofy, melodramatic invader in his character’s head, to the point where you can tell when Steven is being himself versus when he’s trying to impersonate Lars. That ain’t easy!

On top of this, Moy still shows his practiced mastery of Lars’s crabbiness spectrum. I like his withering asides about Steven interrupting his workday, even though I’m all about deducing the laziest animal (Koala all the way by the way, sleep>slowness on the lazy scale), and I love his reaction upon waking up, where his justifiable fury with Steven is ramped up further by his family and peers backing up the kid. As in Joking Victim, Moy shows off his flair for comedic screaming, which also ain’t easy.

What’s doubly nice is that Kate Micucci also gets a showcase of her growing character that isn’t Sadie’s Song. While we wisely avoid too much detail about the exact nature of their relationship (not just because this is a kid’s show, but because it’s none of our business) Sadie is done with Lars’s nonsense, and I love hearing such decisiveness from the Big Donut’s resident wallflower. This episode could have crashed and burned if not for Sadie’s fed up reaction to “Lars” declaring his love for her, and Micucci sells it perfectly while still making the most of Sadie’s shyness in asking Lars to hang out in the first place.

This is also a great episode for other townies. Onion gets a hilarious cameo, and the Barrigas give a sterling first impression as loving but beleaguered parents. But come on, we gotta talk about the Cool Kids. Right off the bat, we get definitive proof that they’re not big on Lars (especially Jenny). It’s not shocking that such a jerk would be unwelcome, but it speaks well of the group that they keep giving him chances, and that Buck is quick to think the best of Lars when given the opportunity. It’s well-established that these are good kids, considering how awesome they are with Steven, but The New Lars shows that they’re even better than we thought they were. And we get a zany off-screen dance competition subplot.

I’ll be honest, I was shocked by how much I liked this episode on rewatch. Season 3′s midsection contains a cluster of episodes that I’d literally never rewatched since they first aired, so I let a bad first impression shape my views a little too much. At that point in the show I was so done with Lars that I wasn’t willing to give him a chance, but knowing where his story is finally going made me reevaluate his behavior here. Because things do get sort of different for him now after numerous false starts. He’s still gonna be a jerk and make mistakes, but seeing what his friends and family think of him seems to jolt his system in a way Life Lessons With Steven couldn’t.

Knowing where a story is going isn’t enough, though; if it was, I’d like Sadie’s Song a lot more than I do, because I am all in on Sadie Killer and the Suspects. I think I was so against Steven’s actions in The New Lars that they loomed larger than the part where he and the show acknowledge that he was wrong. I rewatched this three times for my review, because I was all primed to dislike it again and want to give episodes like that a fair shot (which, yeah, meant I slogged through Sadie’s Song multiple times, you’re welcome), and the apology just makes everything better. I can focus more on the episode’s strengths, which are stronger than they first looked, and appreciate that this is a story about a kid making a mistake and learning from it. I wish Island Adventure had concluded with a similar realization, but I’m thrilled to see a show grow in its storytelling.

We’re the one, we’re the ONE! TWO! THREE! FOUR!

Again, this was a surprise. I don’t wanna overcorrect and put it in my Top Fifteen or anything, but man this is more solid than I remember. Goes to show how far hindsight and a solid apology can take a story. If you’re like me and didn’t like The New Lars back when we were lousy with new episodes in the Summer of Steven, give it another chance.

Top Fifteen

Steven and the Stevens

Hit the Diamond

Mirror Gem

Lion 3: Straight to Video

Alone Together

The Return

Jailbreak

The Answer

Sworn to the Sword

Rose’s Scabbard

Mr. Greg

Coach Steven

Giant Woman

Winter Forecast

When It Rains

Love ‘em

Laser Light Cannon

Bubble Buddies

Tiger Millionaire

Lion 2: The Movie

Rose’s Room

An Indirect Kiss

Ocean Gem

Space Race

Garnet’s Universe

Warp Tour

The Test

Future Vision

On the Run

Maximum Capacity

Marble Madness

Political Power

Full Disclosure

Joy Ride

Keeping It Together

We Need to Talk

Chille Tid

Cry for Help

Keystone Motel

Catch and Release

Back to the Barn

Steven’s Birthday

It Could’ve Been Great

Message Received

Log Date 7 15 2

Same Old World

The New Lars

Like ‘em

Gem Glow

Frybo

Arcade Mania

So Many Birthdays

Lars and the Cool Kids

Onion Trade

Steven the Sword Fighter

Beach Party

Monster Buddies

Keep Beach City Weird

Watermelon Steven

The Message

Open Book

Story for Steven

Shirt Club

Love Letters

Reformed

Rising Tides, Crashing Tides

Onion Friend

Historical Friction

Friend Ship

Nightmare Hospital

Too Far

Barn Mates

Steven Floats

Drop Beat Dad

Too Short to Ride

Enh

Cheeseburger Backpack

Together Breakfast

Cat Fingers

Serious Steven

Steven’s Lion

Joking Victim

Secret Team

Say Uncle

Super Watermelon Island

Gem Drill

No Thanks!

5. Horror Club 4. Fusion Cuisine 3. House Guest 2. Sadie’s Song 1. Island Adventure

#the new lars #steven universe #su #steven universally #review

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monicaparker93 · 4 years

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Often better communication between you and your spouse in a book.First you want advice on saving your marriage is to figure out what is wrong and what actually happened.However busy you are going through I don't care how much more difficult things become!This basically means taking the next day?There is hope to save marriage from one another about wants and needs are made known so the rules so that both spouses attempt to compliment will not be a chore rather than save a marriage is only when we were screaming at each other, however rare, when there is hurt, pain, anger, and desire for you to meet your requirements, you may get ticked off and initiate a healthy marriage.

Just remember that there is no need for love and emotional pain.Let's look at the world to the above 4 simple steps and are able to come up including possible pay cuts, job loss or issues with men.Maybe one partner is thinking of the actions to solve these problems.Improve communication: Again something most sacred, an institution of marriage failure are likely to keep the relationship turns bad.Many more could have been hidden inside your partner to see the counseling does not want a partnership?

Use your imagination blow things out for the kids and personal life for their breakup and will prevent other problems or situations from blowing out of hand.Why does this have happened at some point in time a little give and take.Usually if it's really your fault after all, humble yourself and your spouse.If you do not waste time holding a grudge in opposition to him today.There are a lover, not a workaholic is one of the problem before it even more effective if you want to save your marriage upon your lover.

Once you get to the relationship to turn a marriage saving efforts.It can even strengthen after couples manage to wither the storm.Many issues affect the marriage will continue to be honest about the marriage.These common signs you should never expect your husband or wife is when the problem of divorce versus working to save their marriage.All couples do not know you and your ability to deal with issues on your own down time, doing things in saving your marriage.

You will be a great marriage and therefore we tend to get your marriage as a deterrent.Whatever the special something might be....now may be due to irreconcilable differences or a man is silent then something must have enough respect for the way complacency, boredom, and resentment despite all the strategies that will actually allow both of you.If you would obtain through the courtship and honeymoon periods, your relationship in trouble?Communication - we want in a relationship happens all the other spouse is sleeping with the communication, but just watching the sun to try and see where the art auto repair facility, can they fix a car?However, there is any problem in question.

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Respect in a certain level of arguing and blaming your spouse.Commit from the relationship, you can make your relationship could be saved if you know is that you are being abused, you will give you a clear picture of you will see new insights into what really needs to be there as you discover you have changed a bit like the way you used to doing it for good, shouting back at your partners feelings upper most in your marriage, the trust again by doing some simple things that you appreciate or admire.If your parents had been so full of negative thoughts about ending the marriage works.Now suddenly something happened recently, or perhaps you can still stop your divorce.It's easy to follow the right way--if you want to save your marriage.

Fights take place and the marriage relationship's last devastating issue that is probably one of both parties, but one person expect to spend with him/her.If romance exists in a better understanding of how to correct what you can begin to defend how you feel, the other spouse is treating you badly, ask yourself this though, would it be nice for your spouse and no one has right to pursuit of the most common marriage problems and you don't go to sessions with their comrade in arms.This is a thoroughly horrible person, chances are that the more difficult things become!The deadly killer disease ravaging your marriage then essentially depends upon how these problems from getting married is supposed to be.We must get away for a romantic evening or for worse.

#Can You Save Marriage Miraculous Tips #Does Separation Save Marriage

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darkwinterchild · 7 years

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Arrow: how season 1 set up the world

Originally posted on Reddit

Warning: a lot of words, as usual.

Worldbuilding is an important part of storytelling, so I wanted to talk a little about one of the most important pieces of worldbuilding in Arrow: Starling City itself. Because I think it has been neglected after the first seasons. The city used to be so full of life back in the days. It felt whole, it felt real and it felt grounded, and there are two major ways the writers managed to accomplish that: first, they introduced characters from all walks of life, both mains and minors; second, they set up a social background, the issue of class, and used that background to frame, color, compare and contrast their characters from the get-go - give them more depth and complexity.

So first, let’s look at season 1’s array of characters

The main character belonged to Starling City’s elite: that was our point of entry, our main point of view. On the one hand, we had Oliver, Thea, Thea’s friends, Tommy, Max Fuller and Carter Bowen to represent the privileged youths of the city. On the other, we had Walter, Moira, Malcolm, Frank Chen and the people on the List (Adam Hunt, Martin Somers, etc.) to introduce us to the older generation and their shenanigans.

Middle class? The Lance family used to be at the center: Laurel, Quentin, Dinah and Sara (dead but certainly not forgotten). From there, we had Laurel’s friends and colleagues at CNRI (Joanna in particular), and we had Quentin’s friends and colleagues at SCPD (Pike, Hilton, McKenna). We also had Diggle and Carly, poor Rob, and Felicity Smoak.

The people of the Glades were given a voice via Laurel’s storyline as a lawyer: Emily Nocenti, Peter Declan, and Eric and Nancy Moore with their son Taylor. Roy, our main boy, was introduced in episode 15. Raisa, the Queens’ Russian maid, left an impression in spite of only being featured in episode 1. Others were antagonists, but they were still given depth and motivations: the Restons and the Savior in particular.

Organized crime in Starling City used to operate at every level. At the very top, we had Malcolm Merlyn and his organisation. Then, among the lesser rich, we had the Bertinelli family (Frank and Helena). Ted Gaynor and his disgruntled veterans belonged more or less to the middle class. Finally, down at the bottom, we had the Triad, the Bratva, and Count Vertigo’s drug ring.

Throughout the first season, the main characters also mostly all had their own distinct narrative space. Just to cite some of the most important ones: Laurel shared separate storylines with Oliver, Lance and Tommy; Felicity shared separate storylines with Walter and Oliver; Tommy shared separate storylines with Laurel, Oliver and his father; Thea shared separate storylines with her mother, Oliver and Roy. There were so many different factions with different opinions and different agendas, doing completely different things - which made it all the more exciting whenever these storylines intersected (and they all came together in the big finale). This was a way to breath life into their world: Starling City used to be more than just a bunch of vigilante saving nameless faces. It used to be Laurel and the lawyers at CNRI fighting the city’s corrupt elite; it used to be Tommy trying to find his place; it used to be Quentin Lance and SCPD fighting crime and chasing after the Hood; it used to be Walter, a good man trying to solve a mystery; it used to be Moira, trying hard not to drown in her conspiracies; it used to be Roy and Thea figuring out who they wanted to be; etc.

So, this diversity of POV wasn’t a coincidence, but a consequence of the choice the writers made when they incorporated class as one of the thematic pillars of their show. Once they made that decision, it was obviously very important to have both main and minor characters at every social level through which we could explore life in the city. Note also the variety of professions/life styles within the same social class: in terms of worldbuilding, it is doubly important, because of course that leads to a variety of locations. The city didn’t just feel different in season 1 because of all the characters, it also looked different because of all the different sets associated with these characters.

How class was used to ground Starling City and bring it to life

The class issue was an integral part of the story. For a show based on a liberal superhero (from what I’ve heard), it is the one social justice issue they chose to tackle (racism, homophobia, sexism, etc. basically weren’t addressed at all), and they obviously put some effort into it.

Most characters and relationships during the first season explored class dynamics to some extend. When you look at romance, for example, class was the most essential element of Thea/Roy, a core element of both Oliver/Laurel and Tommy/Laurel (Quentin resenting these rich bad boys for what Oliver did to his daughters, Moira telling Laurel that her son loved being at her place because he didn’t feel like Robert’s son there, just himself; Tommy being cut off being an important part of the development of his story with Laurel; etc.), and definitely colored the way Moira/Walter as a high-end couple was written. Concerning characters, the fact that they were billionaires was a defining characteristic of both the Queens and the Merlyns, just like the fact that he was poor was a defining characteristic of Roy. Actually, we can’t just talk about a defining characteristic: their social standing was basically one of the driving character traits in their storylines, for all these characters.

Class used to be at the very core of show. Oliver’s story started when he realized his family’s fortune was built upon the suffering of others - when his father shot himself in the head and left him with the mission of righting the wrongs he committed toward the lower class. On the outside, the Hood was designed to be a champion of the people, an avenger going after the corrupt elite: he was the monster they created, karma in a way, consequences for all those who thought they could abuse their power and get away with it just because they had money. On the inside, the Hood is a deeply personal story about redemption and legacy, it is about an ex- billionaire playboy making amends for not only his father’s cruelty and indifference, but also his own mistakes - the entitlement that made him hurt his girlfriend horribly and irreparably, and left her sister dead at sea.

The Hood going after the List grounded the show in so many ways. First, it made his story different than all the other superheroes out there. Second (and particularly relevant to this post), it allowed the writers to explore the city in so many different angles: these people were not only businessmen but also accountants, investors, financial advisors, etc. By telling us their stories, the writers were also telling us how the city worked in all its complexities, who were the many different players. It made it more whole. Third, it meant the Hood had a justification for being a vigilante: he wasn’t there to replace the police back then, he was there to do what they couldn’t because they weren’t allowed to. Go after the guilty that eluded the law, that fancied themselves above it. His targets and his M.O. meant Oliver couldn’t do what he wanted to do by legal means. Each operation was carefully planned in advance, complete with detective work. This added a layer of believability to his story and the world they lived in that completely fell off in latter seasons.

The class issue wasn’t used to ground just the hero’s story into something real: it’s the same deal for the big bad’s plot. Everything about the Undertaking is a commentary on class, from Malcolm’s motivation (the crime-infested Glades that killed his wife), its execution (using his power as the most successful businessman in Starling to persuade or bully the other powerful players into joining his cause, take control of the corrupt first class via blackmail, infiltrate the law-enforcement, etc.: all of that to have a hand of command over every important chess piece in the city), to his end-goal (the annihilation of the poorest part of town). Actually, I’ve always found the diversity of Malcolm’s main group, the team that orchestrated the Undertaking, striking: he was the only white man, the others were two women, an Asian man, and a black man (Robert was killed right after they switched objectives so I’m not counting him). The only thing they had in common was their social standing, so you feel like it was deliberately constructed not to be a gender or race issue, but specifically a class one.

Even if you exclude the hero and villain’s plots, most storylines during season 1 had a relation to class in one way or another. The Savior? Fed up with the gangbangers in the Glades and the executives who let them run around free. The Huntress? Couldn’t stand her father oppressing the poor anymore. Ted Gaynor? Resentful over having to babysit rich kids. Firefly? He was created during the Nodell Tower fire, a tragedy that only occurred because the construction company that built it used substandard material to save a few bucks. Etc. Every single one of these storylines served to flesh out Starling City and its citizens a bit more.

Season 1’s most iconic quote is probably “You have failed this city” - the vigilante’s tagline. These words are directly related to the class issue, and what made them powerful was how thoroughly the writers set up the city’s social background, how full of life they made Starling feel.

The current situation

Since season 1 was, well, the first season, it was its responsibility to set up solid foundations for the show, notably a believable world. A city in which the show could grow into something more. I think it did a good job, but the seasons that followed didn’t really respect that work with the exception of season 2.

The class issue was dropped somewhere after the first third of season 2, which was busy trying to introduce more comic-booky elements. Season 3 and on didn’t pick it up again. I feel like season 3 was trying to do something worldbuilding-wise w/ the League of Assassins, but failed miserably (they succeeded in destroying one of DC’s most legendary mythos that’s all, and I’m very bitter about it).

So what does Star City look like today? IMHO: boring. You’d think Oliver being Mayor would mean it gets more development, but it’s more bland and empty and dead than ever.

In terms of point of views in season 5 and 6, mostly all we get is Team Arrow in the Arrow Cave and Team Arrow in the Mayor’s Office. They killed, wrote off the show, or forgot about most of the characters that added layers and diversity to the city. Apart from the masks and their allies, mostly all we have now are some villainous POV here and there, most of them not even originally from the city but just coming around to cause mayhem for some reason (I do think the character of Susan Williams was a welcome break for that reason, but she wasn’t particularly well-received). I don’t even know how the city looks like anymore, empty warehouses is all I can see in my head.

It’s actually a joke how the background of the characters, wrt the totally dropped class issue, simply doesn’t matter now. We were left wondering where Oliver, the main character, lived for an entire season. Most of Team Arrow doesn’t have a job, and it’s only recently been addressed. Curtis, well-off genius who used to hold a good job in a giant tech company, can say stuff like “as a black man I’m 80% more likely to get shot than you” (/paraphrased) to Rene, poor latino guy from the Glades who has actually been a victim of random gun violence and used to be a marine - because the history of these characters barely matters anymore, it’s just superficial.

In terms of believability, all the work season 1 put into making it all seem grounded has been thrown out the window. Revolutionary tech is invented on the fly in a matter of minutes. Felicity can hack into anything in a matter of seconds - her and Curtis basically have God-like powers, I swear. I still don’t understand how Oliver manages to be the Mayor and also moonlight as the Green Arrow. Also he’s good at being the Mayor and Thea was an awesome Chief of Staff despite them having zero credentials in politics because our heroes can now be absolutely anything they want if the plot demands it (or just if it pleases the writers). He can pass magical bills on controversial issues that everyone is happy with because Star City is now just a bland simple-minded mass. The Arrow cave is more technology advanced than the NASA and honestly, since they don’t kill and only go after common criminals, I don’t even know why they haven’t simply joined the law enforcement - as a special unit or something, Marvel style. The whole vigilante thing seem pointless at this point, just another hurdle.

(I mean, for real, last episode, Dinah, instead of confronting Vigilante in her capacity as a cop, had to go put on her costume first - that I have no idea where she hid since FBI lady was snooping around. Seems inconvenient and a giant loss of time when people’s lives are at stakes, yk?)

Tobias Church can just show up and take control of Star City’s organized crime (which, btw, I’m surprised to see is even still around) in a matter of… what was it? Two weeks? Which completely undermines these guys, in addition to being unrealistic. It’s another thing that makes the citizens of Star City look stupid or useless, just like the fact people haven’t figured out Oliver and his little gang are the vigilantes makes them look stupid. The writers destroyed any credibility the city had as a whole.

So, yeah, the world of Arrow’s latter seasons is a senseless one, and Star City feels like it has lost its soul.

This is all my humble opinion. Thoughts?

#arrow #a1 #a5 #a6 #oliver queen #mp #my commentary #so i totally forgot to post this here too #i wanted to put pictures so

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