#like its funny but god that was bleak

[vilelittlecritter]

Watched the fallout show...

it did not have the right to be that good.

[blueskittlesart]

i’m so used to how you draw zelda that whenever i see someone else draw her it’s literally like. skinny person jumpscare.

literally being a fat zelda truther is so hard bc why do people insist on drawing the girl like she's never had a meal in her life. put some meat on her bones please god she is starving

[opens-up-4-nobody]

...

[miraclemaya]

for the game im "making" i keep on thinking of how to best portray this society that is like a cyberpunk dystopia that is at the higher levels of society utterly consumed by a false worship of elder things and old gods and what not and i think i want there to be a quest line where some like actual cultist of some god asks you to bomb board room meetings where scarfices to elder gods are happening noy because it's an enemy cult but because this cultist is so disgusted by the fact that they don't even actually worship the god in question they just use it to make the line go up

[masterkeynobi]

.

[pale-fairytales]

I don't really like to get political but I feel a need to talk about this;

It's so funny. It's so funny to me that the people pushing for KOSA also criticize other countries who do the exact same shit (i.e., China, which from what I've heard (and correct me if I'm wrong please) censors a lot of things) and hate their guts. The fact that they're pushing for censorship directly violates one of the amendments of the constitution (which is free speech) and it baffles me that they think this is okay. But hey these are also the same people that won't do anything about gun violence or school shootings and who want to take away bodily autonomy and gay/trans rights so why am I even surprised.

For the love of god, if you can, help stop KOSA. Not just for fandom purposes, but for the fact that it impacts people who want to transition, people who want/need abortions, it impacts a way that human beings can seek out human contact in an increasingly lonely world where things are growing bleak. Not only that, but the people who are suffering from genocide (8 FUCKING GENOCIDES IN THE WORLD BTW) may not be able to get help or get the word out about their condition if a big chunk of the world can't access the content that helps said people.

And I'm sorry, but if you really cared about children's safety, you a) would do more about school shootings, b) would fix issues that put children in danger (shockingly hunger/malnutrition is still an issue in the U.S.A. just not in the same way as in a war-torn country), c) would fix the foster-care/adoption system, and d) teach parents to have some common fucking sense not to have 5-year-olds on the internet watching age-inappropriate stuff (like 5 year olds listening to Sexxy Red or Ice Spice)

Censorship is bad. It's bad because it can genuinely put lives at risk. If you're for the KOSA bill, don't pretend like it's because you care. You don't care about people—you just want to control them. Just like the people you and its instigators hate so much.

[lostgirlmuseum]

Give Me A Sign

Made with photos from Pinterest ^

Word Count: 2.3k

Pairing: Bucky x f!reader

Summary: Bucky asks the universe for a reason to live. The universe delivers you.

Warnings: HUGE WARNING, please do not read if this makes you uncomfortable! Heavy suicidal ideation, but happy ending. Please be very careful in considering if this is triggering for you. It won’t hurt my feelings if you don’t read, your mental health and safety comes first.

A/N: I’m really sorry if this isn’t great, I wanted to do more but I kept getting stuck, and tbh I just want to post it as is instead of stress about it.

(Dividers from @saradika)

The air was unusually crisp the night Bucky snuck into the gardens of Cornelia Park. He had a faint memory of visiting once, in another century, with Steve. But that was then, and this is now. Now, Steve is dead. Bucky feels the weight of his entire history on his scarred shoulders. He feels out of place in such a green and flourishing area of flora. It’s wrong for him to be among such a place of peace and beauty, he finds it almost funny. Almost. 

He followed the path of lavenders into the private area of the park, surrounded by tall hedges. At the center stood an old stone statue, one he remembered from the last time he visited. Only now it looked much more worn and weathered. The statue was of an angel, a woman with wings. Her eyes were kind, her features soft, despite the stone. She held her arms out, one hand holding a lantern, the other beckoning him to hold. Instead, Bucky sat on the bench in front of her. 

“I’m sorry,” he whispered to her, apologizing for his very presence. He dropped his head into his hands.

And then he started crying. And his cries evolved to sobbing. He let himself cry, a privilege he rarely allowed himself. He let the tears flow, and they didn’t stop for what felt like hours. After forcing himself to pull himself together, he wiped his final tears from his cheeks and looked up to the black sky.

“Give me a sign, God.” His voice wavered.

“If you’re real, give me a sign to keep going. I’ve been at this a really long time. Just gimme— gimme a sign to keep going. That it will be worth it. Because life feels pretty damn bleak. And I know I should keep going, but I…”

The words wouldn’t come.

“I… fuck.” He looked back down at his hands. He thought about how much he hated those hands. He thought about how he wished he could wash the memories from his head like he does the blood from his palms, and how he wished he wasn’t Bucky Barnes. He thought about how he wished he had died at the bottom of that cliff, and how everyone would be better off if—

“Hello?”

A small voice shook him from his thoughts. He hadn’t even heard someone approach. But there you were, standing in the entrance of the hedge garden.

“Oh, hi,” you smiled, once you saw him. At least he thinks you smiled. It was hard for him to see you in the shadows. 

“Sorry,” he quickly apologized, once he realized he hadn’t said anything yet. He had just stared. He looked away from you and back at his lap.

“No need to be sorry,” you said, walking up to the bench he sat on, “I didn’t realize anyone else was here.” 

He didn’t say anything. He wasn’t sure what to say. He too thought he was the only person there.

“Do you mind if I sit with you?” You kindly asked, wrapping your white cardigan a bit tighter. 

That was when he looked up and saw your face in the light of the lantern for the first time. The first thing he thought was that you looked like you belonged there in the garden, unlike him. You could replace the angel statue, and its meaning would stay the same. 

“Go ahead,” he simply said. Although what he really thought was to warn you. Are you sure you want to sit next to him?

You took your place on the bench silently. Neither of you spoke for the first couple minutes. Bucky tried to focus on the sound of crickets, and the lack of traffic. 

He wasn’t sure why he stayed. If anything, his first thought should be to get up, walk away, escape. But he didn’t.

“My name is Y/N.” You softly said.

Stunned by your confession, he let his guard down.

“Bucky.” He half whispered back.

You simply hummed in response.

He could sense your gaze on him. It wasn’t malicious or judgemental; it felt curious and gentle. 

“Are you okay?”

His throat started to constrict again. He didn’t like that question, because he didn’t like the answer. He knows he’s not okay. But he doesn’t know how to say it. After struggling for a response for many seconds, he conceded to shaking his head softly. No.

“I hope it gets easier soon.” 

He felt the dam begin to break again. 

“It will get better someday,” you continued, “maybe not tomorrow, maybe not next week, or month, but someday it will get better.”

“How can you be so sure?” He choked.

“Life is like a pendulum, have you ever heard that before?”

“No.”

“Well, it is. Right now you’re swinging into the bad, but eventually you’re gonna swing right back into the good. It’s just physics. And it sucks in a way, because what’s the point of swinging into the light if it’s just gonna cast that shadow you’ll fall back into? But it’s also comforting to me, because I know as long as I keep pushing, I’ll end up on the other side.”

Bucky let your words ring in his ears. He didn’t know why he felt the urge to open up to you, but he did.

“I just keep asking myself why should I stay?”

“The trick is to find a new reason when you can. I think of one everyday.”

“What’s yours?” 

“Today?” You sighed and looked up at the stars. “I want to see the next snow.”

“That won’t be for months,” he said.

“Guess I’ll have to stick around then.” You gave a knowing smile.

“What should mine be?”

He knew there should be a million things, but they were all just out of reach of his mind.

“That’s up to you.”

Bucky didn’t say it, but he quickly came up with his reason to stay.

You. 

He told himself that he had to see you again.

Bucky went back the next night. And the next. And he kept going back, because you met him every night for a week until you finally asked him if he wanted to meet you for lunch. That was the start of your relationship. Soon enough Sam started asking where Bucky had gone so often. He wasn’t in his room all day anymore, and he seemed lighter. He wasn’t ‘fixed’, obviously, but he was better. It started to get easier to breathe. 

The pendulum had begun to swing in Bucky’s favor, and it stayed that way for months. He still had his days, as did you, but you were happy together. You supported each other. 

And then came a very tough week.

The anniversary of Steve’s death. 

The wound had reopened, and Bucky spiraled. He was a mess, a total mess, and you were there to comfort him. 

But your kindness reminded him of Steve, and how he wasn’t enough for him. If Bucky was good enough for Steve, he wouldn’t have left, right? 

Although Bucky knew you wouldn’t leave him. That was the problem. He was an anchor, and you held on. 

For your own good, he convinced himself he had to let go, if you wouldn’t.

The absence of warmth next to you woke you up. 

“Bucky?” You whispered. The clock blinked 4:13 A.M. 

No reply. You figured maybe he was sleeping on the couch, so you carefully sat up and waited a couple seconds before letting your bare feet touch the cold ground. Pulling your robe on from where it had fallen on the floor, you wiped the sleep from your eyes and padded over to the living room.

It was dark, and your eyes were still adjusting, but you could tell that he wasn’t there. You felt the rise of panic in your chest just before you spotted him standing on the balcony. 

He didn’t turn around to look at you as the door slid open and shut. He remained staring over the ledge at some unknown point.

“Hey, honey,” you whisper, your voice hoarse, as you walk up behind him and wrap your arms around him, giving him a big hug.

You hear his whimper before you feel his body shake.

“Y/N, I—”

“What’s wrong honey?” You quickly let go, turning him to face you. You notice his puffy eyes and tear stained cheeks. His cheeks were rosy; you could tell he had been crying for a while.

“I’m sorry.” He doesn’t look you in the eyes.

“Sorry for what?” 

“I’m sorry for everything.” He starts. “I’m too much. I don’t deserve you, you deserve someone easier. Someone better, someone— someone good.”

“But I love you, and you are good. Bucky, where is this coming from?” The concern was thick in your voice. Sure, he had been a little down lately, but nothing alerted you to this level of distress.

“Sweetheart, all I do is bring hardship into your life. You deserve to live,” he looks into your eyes earnestly, “I know I shackle you to me. I know you give up things to be with me. But you don’t have to anymore. I’m letting you free.”

You hold back a shiver.

“What are you talking about? I want to be with you. You’re scaring me.”

“It’s not fair that I’ve lived this long, and it’s not fair that I’m dragging you down with me. I’m a fucking burden, Y/N. At first to Steve, then Sam, and now you. I can’t keep adding to the list of lives I ruin.”

“Honey, listen to me. I need you to take a deep breath.” You place your hand on his bicep, and try to speak with an appropriate mix of confidence and compassion.

“I’m doing it now!” He shakes his head vigorously, wiping away his tears as if evidence that he’s stopped crying will convince you to go. “You should be sleeping, please go back to sleep. You shouldn’t have to watch over me and make me feel better.”

“How long have you been feeling this way?” You whisper, fearing that if you spoke any louder your voice would break with your heart.

He took a while to answer, biting his lip and looking around before finally responding.

“Do you remember when we first met? In the garden?” He looks at you, eyebrows drawn. As if you could actually forget. You nod.

“I wanted to—” his voice breaks and he looks down— “I went… I was thinking about—” it cracks again, and his throat is constricting itself around the words he can’t say. “I was thinking I was really going to do it. I had basically decided. And then right as I was asking God for one more chance, one reason to stay alive—you appeared. I thought God sent me an Angel. A real Angel.” His eyes sparkle before dimming again. “I tarnish you. You waste your goodness on me, and the world needs it more.”

You don’t like where this is going. You know you need to reel him back in, and fast.

“Look at me, Bucky Barnes. Look at me.” You grab his face firmly and make sure he’s seeing you.

“I’m a burden.” He crumbles.

“Then be my burden!” You cry. “I want you to be my burden. Maybe without you, my life would be ‘easier.’ But I don’t want it to be if it means a life without you.” You search his blue watery eyes, wiping a tear that starts to leak from one. “I don’t fucking choose ‘easier.’ I choose you, Bucky. My choice is to be with the love of my life. And if that means skipping a couple hours of sleep to comfort you, and staying in on weekends, and crying with you, that doesn’t change the fact that I am the luckiest person on Earth. This is my choice too, Bucky. Do you hear me?” You place your hands on both of his arms.

He closes his eyes, takes a shaky breath, and nods.

“I choose you.” 

He nods again, and bites his bottom lip.

“I choose you.” You repeat, not once looking away from him.

He whimpers.

“Say it. Can you say it, please?” You don’t want to push him, but you need to know that your point has been made clear.

“You choose me.” He whispers, before falling into your embrace, and tucking his head into your neck.

“I do. I really do.” You say, holding back your own tears as you rub his back.

“I’m sorry.”

You know telling him he has nothing to be sorry for won’t work, so you instead answer by agreeing. 

“Me too. I’m sorry you’ve been feeling this way. I’m sorry you struggle to see how much I need you, too. But we are going to be okay, okay?”

He sobs harder, holding you tighter. You feel his warm tears start to stain your shirt under the thin robe. “I love you.”

“I love you too,” you hum.

“Don’t leave me,”

“I’m not going anywhere.” You promise, bringing one hand up to the nape of his neck and start gently playing with his hair. “Are you ready to go back inside? Do you want to lay down with me?”

Without pulling away from you, he nods. You wait for him to let go of you before going to grab his hand and leading him to the bed, but he stops you. Instead of letting you show him the way, he decides to pick you up bridal style and carry you to your room, knowing he couldn’t wait until laying down to have your body pressed against his. 

Once you were both settled under the cozy blankets, your bodies facing each other, his head on your chest and your hand rubbing his back in circular motions, he spoke drowsily, exhausted from his breakdown.

“I love you.” He mumbled.

“And I love you,” You cooed, placing a small kiss on his forehead before drifting off into your dreamless sleeps.

A/N: Thank you so much for taking the time to read this. I know life can be a fucking shit show, but please stay alive. If you know someone who is struggling, consider reaching out to them. And if you yourself are struggling, please reach out to someone. And if you feel like there is no one to talk to, my asks/dms are open. You are not alone.

I don’t want anyone to read this fic and their takeaway is that if they have no partner, they are on their own. I choose you. Do you hear me? I choose you, and I implore you to choose yourself. Stay alive for yourself. Be spiteful against your depression. And if you’re one of those people who can’t help but say “I hate you,” to the mirror, and feel like you mean it, know that there is hope for you too. Because I was once that person. And with help, and time, I am able to say that I don’t hate myself. I can look in the mirror and appreciate who I am. Of course I still have my moments, but my point is that if you told me when I was at my lowest, that I’d one day be able to say “I love you” to the mirror without bursting out in tears, I’d call you a liar. 

(Sorry for making this A/N so long, hopefully someone can find comfort in it. I’m still here. And you should be too.)

[sinvilles]

additional thoughts: why cancelling the show actually did Orel's character so so so dirty

disclaimer again: I'm unconcerned about redemption because I'm not a fuckin lutheran. I'm a writer and I like sociological stories and seeing characters achieve wholeness within narrative. moral orel is a unique case because the story was cut short halfway through, and all character arcs were arrested at their lowest point in the narrative, except for some characters on the side who were just kind of beginning to shine.

The gist of the matter is that Moral Orel was cancelled because the executive producer's favorite character was supposed to grow up and he had a problem with that not being very funny. Orel was supposed to go from a naive and well-meaning albeit trouble-making child to a very mature and thoughtful young teenager. The beginnings of this were in Nature, and the way people respond to that you'd think this was the point of his character arc, that the end of it was just him realizing his dad wasn't shit and that's the conclusion of his story. That was just the start.

Orel was supposed to experience profound loss for the first time. He was supposed to grow more open minded and perceptive and thoughtful, and actively question his small world and what was being fed to him. Orel was going to have a crisis of faith. HE WAS GOING TO HAVE AN EMO PHASE. There was a lot that was going to occur for his character, but it was cut short and so when they put that happy ending in the finale it feels more like aftercare after a deeply bleak and unsettling turn of events. Just because you get aftercare from a story that only resolves issues to a halfway point, doesn't make a proper ending. The narrative, the writers, the audience have emotional investment in these characters.

Sure, we joke that we hate the characters and that they deserve their misery- and where the story ended, they deserved their misery. It didn't have to be that way. These characters are well written enough to hate, to love, to consider and reconsider over and over. Secretly we all wanted them to grow- even Clay, a character so damaged and ruined he seems bereft of any of god's mercy.

But this assumption that Orel had a full character arc- its insulting to him. Especially the jump to "and then miraculously he had a happy family with Christina the end." Characters become whole through their struggles, because through it they reach a sense of understanding. Orel had come to a couple of understandings by season three- God isn't just in church, and his father is a flawed and hurt individual. Then what? does he just repress everything and go about his life? Hating his father and opposing him was the start of a new arc, not the end of his story. Fuck man, it makes him seem immature.

I mean, if its the end of anything it feels like the end of his innocence, not his story. In one of the unmade scripts, Narcissism, there's this confession to Putty:

shit man he's worried about his dad getting sadder? This child is so beautiful and pure, fuck man I wish the fandom remembered him like this and not like the bleak combined ending of Nesting and Honor. 13 is such an unlucky number. they should have stopped at Sacrifice. and also:

YES OREL, REPRESSION IS BAD! You're doing so good baby boy

Beforel Orel was a fun excursion, and it brought a new angle to his (very strongly hinted to be neurodivergent) character. but it mostly told us things we already knew. and the thought that we'll never get any more.... shit hurts. Idk I don't have much to say other than I'm sad. in conclusion

[heal-the-ashes]

i'm thinking about pl and—like always—i get emotional after anything regarding this series. these stories. the ebb and flow of cherished laughs and pained expressions, the give and take of funny dialogues and heartbreaking reveals. when the end credits songs just wash over the entire experience with additional thoughts (usually angst-y in my case). when you've realized the story you just witnessed and the story that you felt apart of will stay with you for times that seem ephemerally immemorial...

[Slight Miracle Mask and Unwound Future Spoilers near the end]

these games don't show happiness and sadness. they don't show the positives and negatives of how a scene should flow. they don't just have dialogue and action and tone and intonations. 

they have perseverance amidst tragedy, the rose within the thorn, the sun within the bleak clouds. they show that everyone in this series is human. they somehow made me feel—and not in some type of pity way—for those npcs who were stuck on what i thought was the easiest puzzle in the world. there was no humiliation, no real sense of judgement. there was respect and patience and... and there was disappointment, only in one's self. there was no invalidity of emotions. yes, there were invalid actions, but i don't have a single memory of anyone saying another character was stupid for feeling a certain way. there was passive acceptance all around and across the series, there was no stuck-up sounding laughter; no one (to my memory) ever called another stupid for messing up.

and hershel layton is one of the most human characters i have ever seen. 

i saw a fanart that consisted of hershel in different stages of life. it made me emotional, because: 

in each stage of his life that was depicted there… it wasn't growing up. it wasn't milestones of age, it wasn't certain accomplishments in his character. it showed each time he has lost someone. and god does it break my heart to see and realize that he. is still. here. the amount of pain PL characters have gone through just breaks my heart.

and i am so glad and so honestly inspired to know that. and i feel so awful for thinking my problems are bad when i look at the greatest person to ever exist in media ever, who was shaped by traumas far beyond my own. and that is not an understatement: i genuinely believe professor hershel layton is my favorite character in any media. because he and his games tell you that there is more to life than pain. and it is a lesson that i am so glad that i can finally see someone else tell.

miracle mask and unwound future are two of my favorite games because they're the games that tell the audience that he is human. it reveals how he despises—he loathes, he hates—… not emotions. no, not sadness, not regret, not remorse, not disappointment, not pain. no, none of that. 

he hates certain parts of himself. he hates how he dealt with grief. he hates it when he's shown with "proof" that he's gone and done the very thing he swore not to ever do. he doesn't even hate anyone else even though he has so much right to. he should've cussed out bronev off screen. he should've yelled at bill hawks. he shouldn't of saved clive but god what did he do. he saved clive. he saved randall. 

oh, how love is a weapon. this is it. this is one of the greatest examples of how love is a weapon in storytelling. it's not even platonic love between the characters, its the love the audience has for the characters. stories like these twist this and they do it well. but, anyway—

when i was younger, i thought hershel layton was foolish. i thought he was stupid. i used to think: "what is he doing? someone hurts him, why doesn't he want to hurt them back? what's wrong with him that he doesn't want revenge?"

i couldn't of been more... wrong about how he sees the world.

no, he's the one of the greatest persons i've ever seen in media. i've learned so much from him and the PL series as a whole. i've learned something from each and every character. [what i learned from bronev and bill hawks is just to not be them.] 

layton is the kindest person i've seen. there is no earned malice anywhere near him. he doesn't purposefully aggravate others. he isn't mean, he's not one you'd call angry. he's patient and understanding, and he was made from pain. 

if every person was at least a little bit like him, i think the world would be a better place. a place where no one has to be made from pain.

[writella]

just read ‘working it out’ and to say the least it was amazinggg. a pt 2 where they get to finish what they started without the interruption of officer cockblock would be equally amazinggg ! keep up the good work, can’t wait to read more ! ❤️

Hi again, lovely reader! ♡ You’re so sweet and I appreciate you so much!! You and @murdadixon with the sheriff/officer cockblock is still sooo silly and funny, you made me laugh!! Anyway here’s what I got for you, let me know if you like it!

For any new readers, even though I use a line from the previous work and reference it a few times, this can still be read on its own I think, but if you’d like to read that one (Working It Out) there it is!

This includes smut of course— a bit softer than the first part, a relationship confirmation, and Daryl and the reader being totally in love with each other even if they don’t say it; such cuties.

Two weeks have passed. Another fourteen days of walking, and walking, and walking. Eating plants and berries deemed as safe, and those where few and far between. Not to mention, the amount that each of you shared evenly when you found something could be counted on your fingers— it was practically nothing.

You guys needed to find a cabin again, or get back to the towns, maybe find a house or supermarket or drugstore. You were so deep in the wilderness.

That car Rick and Michonne found didn’t take you any far. All of you couldn’t fit in it, anyway. Each of you took turns riding and sitting in it, trying to find a new place to camp in. You did this for six days until the car gave out.

Despite the lush greenery that surrounded you, it was needless to say that this had been a more than bleak half of a month.

Daryl brought the color back to you, just a little at least. He would always opt to stand and walk closer to you and the group as you all continued your trek; and he’d even offer you a little of his food sometimes, although you always refused— “we all need to stay alive right now,” you’d whisper, “but you’re sweet.” You couldn’t tell if it made him smile or blush or not, but part part of you wondered; he didn’t look you in the eye, and that usually meant there was something there he didn’t want you to see. And there was always the way you would feel his hand on your back at times, pushing you forward when the endless walking slowed you down to exhaustion. He always gently guided you to keep moving.

His silent kindness was so tender, so needed.

But he was still quiet, and in some ways, you couldn’t even blame him. It’s just who he is; and it’s sort of who you all were becoming right now. There was nothing to talk about unless it had to do with food, a plan to find shelter, or killing walkers that got in the way. And with all of you together all the time, there really wasn’t a moment to talk about the state of your relationship, but your mind kept rewinding and turning over with his previous words, I’ll kiss you like this anywhere… Any way you want. You longed for the day that this would be true. If these words were food, they were the only thing sustaining you; it was the only thing good to think about at all.

A few more days had past until you finally caught a break. You saw Rick starting to run as he shouted Carl’s name. He was running ahead of him, “I think I see something!” Carl told the group.

It was a barn. Completely desolate, the wooden walls almost looked unstable, but there was a roof. It was a place to sleep. At least for the night.

“Thank God.” Gabriel’s exhale matched the whirling wind as he said it, it was a true release; a relief. Some may not have had the same beliefs as him or thought the barn was anything that special, but no one disagreed. The barn door had a latch and a couple of blankets someone must had left. As little as it was, it was something to be just the littlest bit thankful for after sleeping on the dirt with nothing for what felt like ages.

As night rolled in, you were lucky enough to get a corner spot. It was one of the ones that was closest to the door. You had taken care of Judith during the day, so you had sat there most of the time trying to keep her quiet and entertaining her. You even got to take a nap when she did. She was so warm, it was nice. You almost felt sad when Rick relieved you of her, but because of it you offered to take first watch, knowing you were more rested than the others.

Your stuff was still in place, but you moved closer to the door, using the slit between the door and the rest of the wall as a peephole to look through when you remembered or when you heard any strange.

Daryl moved himself to your spot. The barn was dark, but you could tell it was him based on how he walked. He took his steps with the sway of his hips, his feet heavy as they tapped on the ground when he didn’t care if he was seen or not, different from when he hunts.

He put his stuff down in the corner with yours and right when you thought he was probably going to lay down himself, he comes up to you.

“Daryl, sleep.” It was a soft demand.

“Can’t.” He said simply, moving closer to the door to sit with you. He was so close that your arms and knees touched. You took the opportunity to rest your head on his shoulder even if it wasn’t an invitation. He doesn’t protest. His head lightly rests on yours actually.

“It’s so cold,” you whisper, taking the sheet off your legs, it was so thin, it did nothing, and the cracks between the old barn’s wooden panels didn’t help either, the wind seeping through much stronger as the night went on.

Daryl rubbed his hands on your lower leg— the calf, heating it up until one of his hands rests on your knee, the action made you laugh lightly. It was a kind attempt. Then, his hand started lowering to your inner thigh. It was just to the middle of it. It didn’t have to be anything more if you didn’t want it to be, it could have just been a gentle hand, trying to warm you up, though you couldn’t help but to let yourself close the gap between your legs; allowing him to heat you in a different way. Slowly, he pushed his hand further down.

Once he reached your center he turned his palm inward, his fingers pressing into you over your jeans. You rocked up to him, closing your eyes, turning you head away from him as your breathed in sharply. You were quiet, other than your exhales that came out of your nose, but you tried for them to sound as small and short as you could.

One of your knees caved inward to build upon the pressure, trying to lock his hand in further. He dipped his hand into your pants without even unbuttoning them, stretching the denim to fit his thick fingers beneath. He started to slide his middle finger through your wetness until it found your hole and he slide right in, circling while his palm rubbed against you on top. It made you reach out for his shoulder tightly.

“Daryl,” your whisper was piercing as you gasped. “Can we go outside?”

He nodded to you, though you could only see it slightly through the darkness of the barn. You eyes widened as he unexpectedly picked you up, it was a wordless and soundless motion. He opened the latch of the barn, taking you to the outer back side, then gently placing you on feet.

Your eyes matched the stars of the sky. Was this finally going to happen? Everyone was asleep, or so it seemed. No one else was around…

The realization made you notice how big he was in that moment: his broad shoulders and arms, his hands, his bulge… it makes you look back up at his face again right when you reach it. You stand there for a moment, you eyes fixed on him, the limitless sensation of right now overwhelming you until— instinct kicks in, your actions, almost animalistic. You were so used to respecting this blurred-line-friendship you didn’t know what he would think to see you so eager, so desperate again, but your shirt and bra and pants come off immediately. You wanted him. So bad.

If you all died tonight it was your fault. You were doing a horrible job at keeping watch, but your mind was absolutely elsewhere that you didn’t even think of it.

You look up at him as you continue and notice he is repeating your actions at the same force, it makes you smile excitedly, it was comforting as much as it was so, so dirty. Here you were, starting to have sex outside… again. Was this you? Maybe for Daryl. No, definitely for Daryl.

You instantly put your hands on his chest and abdomen when he was done undressing and you kiss him, it’s just in the way you’ve always wanted to, the way you’ve dreamed about.

His hands goes to your waist as you do so and one of them travels farther to your ass, pressing on it as he pushes you up to his height. Your hands go over his shoulder and you’re on your toes to help.

He gently pushes you toward the wall and you slide down on it, you could get splinters but you’re not thinking, you don’t care. There is only him right now, there is only finally getting to touch him right now.

You lay yourself on the ground and he goes above you. Neither of you even think about him touching you more to get you more wet as you see him hardened, as you see him throbbing. It makes you throb. It makes you whine.

His actions say don’t worry, as he kisses your chest between your breast once before he slowly pushes into you, watching himself go in. Enjoying the way it looks as he bottoms out until he’s hovering over you, closer now. He kisses you quickly on the lips before starting to thrust and moving in, and out, and in, in, in. “Mmmm.”

Then he exhales, a breathy sigh, and you do to. So good, you think, “So good” you sigh out. “Thank you.” You stroke his hair.

“It feels really good,” he agrees. You’ve never seen him be so soft, it makes you giggle. You like this side of him.

You hand travels from his hair, to his neck and down to his back. Your other hand comes to his back to match and your knees move forward around him as well. You are light with your touches, you’ve yet to touch his back almost at all before, especially not like this.

“I want to make you come,” he says lowly, it’s almost comical how genuine and sincere he means it, but he does. His voice soft despite its rasp.

“You can,” you reassure; you’re so sure, in fact. You’ve wanted this forever.

He starts to speed up, but it’s more of a deep and full explosion of movements than it is a hard and fast one. You feel it everywhere, it feels like this perfect balance between sex for lust and sex for showing his love. Your moan sounds beautiful, it sounds like finally. He loves it.

His head goes into your neck and both your mouths are open, you’re both panting, you’re both smiling, you’re both happy. So happy and feelings so good that you want it to last forever.

Your eyes open and you see the stars again. They match the stars in your eyes, you can’t tell which are real and which are fake or if you’re seeing anything that’s real at all right now. You don’t even know if this is a hunger ridden hallucination as you see a star shoot across the sky and feel it right at the bottom of your stomach as you both come undone. It’s the first time you’ve felt complete.

He colapses onto you now, you feel all his weight and you don’t care. His forehead is on yours and you hold the sides of his face. It feels infinite.

You don’t know how much or how little time passes until you hear, “So, that’s you keepin’ watch, kid?” The sound make Daryl’s head go up and your hands go straight to your head. Why is it always the leader of your group to find you like this?

“Why you always watching?” Daryl finds your shirt and puts it over your head again before he tries to cover himself up.

“Just came out to use the bathroom, Daryl.”

As Rick started walking to a tree, his smirk is still firmly placed he says, “I’m sure you two tired yourselves out, I’ll take watch for now.” He looked back, knowing you were clothed now, smiling directly at you, “Goodnight.” The look was almost actually sincere. If he did see anything, maybe he knows it wasn’t what he saw last time… at least not entirely.

As you see his body move out of sight, Daryl turns to you, “You need to stop gettin’ embarrassed by him.” He finishes putting on the rest of his clothes, leaving his vest on the ground, and he brings you closer to him, leaning you two against the barn wall. You nod you head, acknowledging his words and his arms go around your shoulder and you melted into it. The cold air finally getting to you again as the heat of the moment passes and your flushed face starts to fade.

You look up at him from his shoulder, “Daryl?”

“Yeah,” he saw your mouth slightly open, the words were on your tongue and he knew it, but you weren’t speaking. “Say it.”

“Are we… are we an us?” You were still too scared to use the words you truly wanted, you opted for being as vaguely specific or specifically vague as possible, “Am I… Am I- your- person.”

He looked at your eyes that were below his head, “I think you have been. All this time.” You noticed his lips twitching into a smile, but trying to keep them down, to keep them neutral. It’s hard, you make him happy even when he doesn’t want to show it. Even though it’s hard for him to show it to other people. Even though he’s terrified of how vulnerable you make him.

“I just don’t want to have to guess.”

“Well then you don’t gotta anymore… I’ll make sure you don’t have to. We’re together,” he shrugs, “We’ve always been.”

He kisses you now, fully this time, holding your cheek as he does so. It’s the light and soft way, but also the deep way; it was both the ‘anywhere’ and ‘any way you want’ way. You hold his face in return, accepting his words, accepting it all. If anyone else where to come out they would see that truly your lips weren’t the ones in action, but your two hearts drumming into each other, wordlessly saying everything: I’m yours and you’re mine. It’s always been like this.

that unconfirmed possible voyager!rick(???) surprise SHAWTYY jfdjfj anyway, thank you for reading!!!!! ♡ ♡ ♡

[matchingbatbites]

Part 1

Steve visits Eddie often. He loves being around the other man, loves how kind Eddie is, how funny he is for someone who rules the dead. He seems to love making Steve laugh and is always cracking jokes that send the goddess into giggles.

Honestly, Steve spends more time than he should in the Underworld, but Eddie has so many duties to tend to, it makes more sense for Steve to come to him than the other way around.

It’s nearly a year since he met Eddie that his joy is brought to an end. Steve is summoned to Olympus, is told that his visits are sending the world into chaos.

He didn’t know that traveling to the Underworld would cut the human world off from his magic, that the plants that bloomed with his presence would die off when the connection is severed.

Zeus bans him from visiting Hades, and Steve ignores the smug look on Ares’ face, the pitying looks from Hera and Aphrodite. Not all of the gods are here to witness his humiliation, but there are enough to make him flush with shame, to have him leaving as soon as he's able to.

Aphrodite catches him before he gets too far, her hair and robes both immaculate even as tears stream down her face. “Ares told them where you were going. I tried to stop him, but he’s… bitter. Jealous.”

She takes his hand, holds it between her own. “I can tell that your feelings are true, and that Hades feels the same for you. I wish I could help you, Persephone. You both deserve happiness.”

And like a stroke of lightning, Steve knows what must be done.

He thanks her and leaves Olympus, finds the nearest gate and descends into the Underworld. Cerberus is given three loving pets as Steve passes by, heading to the garden behind Eddie’s home.

The plants have been thriving thanks to Steve’s frequent visits, the flowers are in full bloom and the plants that can fruit are full and heavy with produce. He plucks a pomegranate from its branch, and stares at it as he remembers.

The goddess had found Eddie eating one on his third or fourth visit, and the older had stopped him when he’d gone to grab a few of the seeds for himself.

“You can’t eat anything grown in this realm. You’ll be stuck here if you do.”

Eddie had looked almost sad as he’d said it, and Steve had tipped his head to the side.

“Are you saying you don’t want me around?”

“No! I mean, I would-” Eddie stopped himself, took a breath. “You don’t belong down here. This place is far too dark, too bleak. It doesn’t deserve you.”

And Steve could read between the lines, could hear what Eddie wasn’t saying. He had ignored it at the time, let Eddie be right, but now? Now Steve knows that Eddie is the only one who deserves him.

Call him selfish, but no one has ever treated Steve the way Eddie does, has cared for him so, and he wants nothing more than to spend the rest of his days in the Underworld, side by side with the man he loves.

He tears open the pomegranate as a voice comes from the house.

“Steve? I didn’t realize you were here.”

Steve turns to face him, and Eddie’s eyes drop to Steve’s hands, dripping with red as he holds the fruit in his hands. His face pales and his eyes jump back to Steve’s.

“What are you doing?” he asks, taking a cautious step forward.

“Do you love me?” Steve asks in return. Just seeing Eddie has firmed his decision, and he stands, unwavering as he watches the other man pause at the question.

“I do. More than anything.” Eddie seems nervous, but his voice is steady, and Steve knows he's telling the truth.

“If I asked it, would you let me stay? Let me stand by your side for the rest of time itself?”

Eddie steps closer, now in arms reach. “I would. I would not turn you away, even if it meant my life.”

Steve’s eyes don’t waver from Eddie’s as he scrapes a handful of seeds from the fruit and shoves them in his mouth.

The juice is tart at first, but is followed by a delicious sweetness, something that reminds Steve of Eddie himself, and as he swallows, Steve can feel the shift within him.

Hands grab his face and the fruit falls to the ground as Steve grabs Eddie in return, both meeting in a desperate kiss. Magic flows between them, invisible threads tying them together in a bond so concrete, even the Fates themselves could not cut them.

They pull back after a moment, and Steve’s eyes drop to the red smear across Eddie’s mouth, something that is surely mirrored across his own.

“My wonderful little goddess,” Eddie mutters, awestruck as he places another kiss to Steve’s lips, more tender than the last.

“You're stuck with me now,” the goddess responds, sending them both into giggles, and yeah. It feels good to be selfish.

(Later, Steve will cut a deal with the rest of the gods. He will come back for half a year at a time and tend to his duties, leaving his beloved twin Demeter in charge while he’s gone, in exchange for Zeus’ blessing to have children. Zeus will have no choice but to agree.)

-

Tagging @stardustonpages because they respectfully asked for more <3

[nortism]

doctor who liveblog pt 22

s4 ep10 midnight

- i’m glad donna’s getting a nice holiday

- COLIN MORGAN OF BBC MERLIN FAME??! katie mcgrath next pls

- “ladies and gentlemen and variations thereupon”

- ROSE ON THE TVVVVVVV

- oh god was she possessed

- FUCK SHES REPEATING LIKE THE THING OUTSIDE

- SHE GOT HIS VOICE

- that was such a good episode, genuinely unsettling

s4 ep11 turn left

- omg are we in a country that’s not the uk?? i didn’t know the tardis knew how to do that 😭😭

- oh never mind they’re on a different planet, should have known

- and billie piper!!

- oh the doctor’s dead

- get the screwdriver donna!!

- ROSE TYLER!!!!!!!!!!

- oh she’s vanished

- donna’s so funny

- NO MARTHA’S DEAD this sucks

- SARAH JANE SMITH’S DEAD?!?! this au is awful

- ROSE

- i love donna’s grandad so much it’s not even funny

- london’s gone??? thank god the world is free!

- not leeds

- uh oh america

- ROSE

- oh fuck jack as well

- oh great, now the uk is turning into nazi germany

- that’s a big old bug

- rip alternate universe donna

- BAD WOLF?!?!?!!????

- shitttttt

s4 ep12 the stolen earth

- oh fucj the earth’s gone

- MARTHA

- ohh fuck the companions r all gonna come together

- ROSE WITH A GIANT GUN WOOOO

- oh yeah the whole gang in the opening credits

- oh great we’re gonna find out what a shadow proclamation is

- ofc the british are celebrating the end of the world by drinking and rioting

- ofc it’s the fucking daleks

- i feel like there was easy ways to exterminate the human race i won’t lie

- the crucible?? always with the religious imagery

- idk if i trust the space cops

- not the rhinos again

- ohhhh they’re building a mega planet

- for what it’s worth, i trust martha to save the world. she’s done it before

- NO MARTHA

- the loss that is yet to come???

- also which god??

- BEES ARE ALIENS?!?!

- i knew i couldn’t trust the space cops

- ROSE

- when he was a 90 year old teenage girl

- HARRIET JONES MY LOVE

- yay martha’s alive

- aww rose is jealous

- is everyone here a jones?

- HARRIET NOOOOOO

- he’s still thinking about rose 😭😭

- jfc what is that

- ewww

- FUCKING DALEKS RUINING MY REUNION

- oh my polycule did reunite, just under the worst circumstances possible

- FUCK HES REGENERATING ALREADY

- noooo sarah jane

- whatttt

s4 ep13 journey’s end

- did he just regenerate back into david tennant???

- MICKEYYYYYYYYY

- JACKIEEEEEEEE

- oh the whole gang is back together i missed them 😭😭😭

- oh donna i love u

- they gotta stop leaving the tardis lying around!!!

- that’s nice of the daleks to translate for different countries

- that’s a lotta daleks

- donna?!!

- DONNA?!?!!??

- hello is donna regenerating?!?!

- ITS ANOTHER DOCTOR?!?!?

- dw rose this is just an avg day for jack

- nah is the new doctor technically donna and the doctor’s child???

- pls leave my girl and her mummy issues alone

- oh they’re soulmates

- when did martha learn german??

- oh yeah on her world tour

- it would be cool if they subtitled the german bc i’m getting none of this

- not loving the sound of a reality bomb

- omg they’re disintegrating

- oh so we’re destroying all matter now???

- won’t this also destroy the daleks??

- apparently not

- SHES GONNA BLOW UP THE EARTH

- oh fuck the whole gang’s been teleported

- it’s up to u now donna

- uh oh rip the other doctor

- uh oh rip donna

- this is a bit awkward

- YES FHEN DONNA

- the doctordonna

- SHES PART TIMELORD?!

- they oppenheimer-ed him

- K9!!!

- finally an explanation for why he sucks a flying the tardis so much, he needs more guys

- he’s got the biggest family on earth 😭😭

- she’s getting her own doctor?!

- aww she got her kiss?? i think aww?! this is a weird situation all round

- oh no donna’s malfunctioning

- wait what

- is she fucking dead

- HER MIND’S BEEN WIPED!!?!?!

- awww she’s forgotten him

- this is so sad

- aww granddad

- jesus that was bleak

[felixdragonheartofficial]

TFP KINDA SUCKS RANT

Unfiltered opinion below ⬇️(long)

Transformers prime

Listen, you can like what you like, but tfp is not the Pinnacle of transformers media like every salty old fan of it says it is

Repetitive soundtrack

The soundtrack isn't varied, all of the music is comprised of grandiose orchestral pieces that become so goddamn repetitive it leaves you feeling empty. There's never any other emotion present in the music other than

"feel epic now pls"

I shit you not. There are scenes that are "supposed" to be funny, but it's just stale dialogue with absolutely no background music so it doesn't work at all. Any emotion conveyed with music is either epic, sad, or action and nothing else

"Haha, no moments of silly, that would kill the seriousnesz emo vibe U_U"

Terrible setting

Tfp is also much more visually unappealing due to the uncanny af models, the barren and drab backgrounds, and a convenient lack of humans to "disguise" from

not to mention how fuckin weird they look

sims 4 mfs

I'm so sick of animation elitists saying TFP's the better show because it's 3D and 3D is somehow Automatically better because it's "more advanced and sophisticated" which if you ever dipped your fingers into animation at all, you'd know how untrue that is

Feats of storytelling can be attained with either or, and the execution is dependent on the style and narrative that the show presents

TFP was trying to go for a visually darker theme, which is why they went for a realism. The only problem is that the settings are bleak and devoid of any soul

Speaking of which

Robots in disguise... From what???

Outside of team prime, there are literally no humans with speaking roles that have actual story importance

except for Silas

until there are infact- no, non-team humans of significance ever again, either because they couldn't afford the voice actors anymore, or they just chose to never bring them up again.

We don't get to actually see people, we only see the implication of human dwelling and it's lackluster.

There's never any of that conflict or tension that the show promised with the disguise plot, and It pisses me off so much because not only do a bare few of the fights happen around or inside of inhabited areas

but these robots

ARE LOUD

HOW THE HELL HAS NOBODY WALKED OUTSIDE OF THEIR HOUSE TO CHECK

A N Y T H I N G

"Honey, do you hear that loud, metallic ripping and obnoxious plasma fire?"

"Must be the neighbors shagging, Gerald. Don't be such a paranoid freak<3"

"Fair enough Cathleen, let's go back to playing spiderman 2 for the ps5"

"robots In disguise"

respectfully, Hasbro- you can eat out my entire ass with your forked tongue, ye fuckin liars✨

The Nothing Narrative

Tfp legit feels like the circle jerk of patriotism, oh my god.

Sure, it sounds far fetched but let's not forget that this show has agent fowler sucking off the American government every chance he gets

Its so audacious to show the devastation that war brought to cybertron, only to turn around and be like

"So kiddos, wanna join le special forces" at the end of it

How can you be anti war and pro US military?

The US

The leading imperialistic force in the world for the last 200+ years?

That's who you wanna prop up as a stand up figure in your "war is bad" show??

H o w

How Does That W o r k that's so fucking stupid

Wasted potential

considering wasted character opportunities that pissed everyone off, tfp weighs down the heaviest

1.Breakdown could've joined the autobots-killed off because they couldn't afford the va

2.Airachnid could've come back as a larger threat with her hoard of zombie/vampire insecticons -transported to Luna 1 and then never seen from again because they couldn't afford the va

3.cybertronian pirates were supposed to appear but didn't because they didn't use their own production bible

And that shit show sequel

(nice one hasbro, you really rodded yourself up the asshole with a ferocity for the millionth time)

Oh and that one moment that legit pissed me off

When megatron pulled that

"because I now know the true meaning of oppression, and have thus lost my taste for inflicting it"

😐

This prompts the question for me

Why would you even waste the little budget that you had creating this show with a premise that literally lies to the audience??

Its so funny that people meatride this show so hard because of animation elitist bullshit like "3D animation is better than 2D"

And yet, despite the scathing review I just gave I do not gaf if you watch this show and like it, that's literally great for you

But don't ever claim that it does narratives better than TFA/Earthspark dude, omg

[pricegouge]

Thank you for the tag @mikichko ! Ive been a bad little reader this past year so bear with my boring answers lmao

1) last book I read

The Decagon House Murders by Yukito Ayatsuji

2) a book I recommend

God Bless You Mr. Rosewater by Vonnegut goes under praised I think

3) a book I couldn't put down

Whispers in the Snow by Darcy Coates. It's not actually very good, and the sequels are even worse, but it was a page turner!

4) a book Ive read twice or more

Lucky Jim by Kingsley Amis. Its been a hot minute so maybe it doesn't hold up, but I always found the prose quite funny and I liked the way in contrasted the pretty bleak subject

5) a book on my tbr

@400badrequest just recommended Sunshine by Robin McKinley, so that!

6) a book I've put down

Into the Woods by Tana French. This fucking book has sat on my shelf for literally a decade and the premise is convincing enough that every few years I try picking it up again but I just CANNOT get into it

7) a favorite book from childhood

Was a MASSIVE fan of the Eragon series by Christopher Paolini. So much so that even as a grown ass adult I kinda wanna re-read them so I can finally get that fourth book under my belt

8) a book I would give to a friend

A very few specific friends but, Between Men by Eve Kosofsky Sedgwick

9) a fiction book I own

Cities in Flight by James Blish

10) a non fiction book I own

Movements in Art Since 1945 by Edward Lance Smith

11) what I am currently reading

Nothing cause I've been awful lately but the last book I bought was You Let Me In by Camilla Bruce so perhaps that in a few days

12) what I am planning on reading next

Maybe the Leviathan Trilogy by Scott Westerfeld, seeing as it comes so highly recommend by prev

13) my shelfie

I don't have a proper book shelf because my reading area is too cramped, so have some pics of the area I like to call the used book store cause it's all just kinda hanging around (featuring an overgrown dog in need of a haircut)

I'll tag req cause I already did and I want more suggestions :) and @stellewriites @duskier @dozeydaisy @dwarvenales

No pressure and sorry if there are any repeats!

[spelllingandthemysteryschool]

hi! :D i love your blog, so i wanted to ask, why do you think the barbie movie was bleak? i love hearing people's opinions on the film, and i thought that was an interesting adjective to describe it. you don't have to answer if you don't want to, ofc! hope you have a nice day!!! <3

oh you’re so sweet, thanks so much! ❣️ honestly i don’t know how intelligible this will be considering i spent a few days after watching the movie hashing out my thoughts with various friends and have mostly said my piece privately, but i thought it was bleak because it just… was…

like i did have fun because it is spectacularly produced & i guess in some ways it’s like oh, well it’s literally the BARBIE movie, what did you expect, but in other ways i was just like. oh my God, the faux criticism of barbie as a product, mattel as a company, and capitalism as a concept this film presents… i couldn’t stomach it! like how much of this are we supposed to believe is greta gerwig’s genuine artistic vision & how much of it is mattel indulgently financing a tongue-in-cheek critique of its own contributions to consumerism knowing it will only generate MORE of the same? i found myself reminded of a particular excerpt from chapter two of mark fisher’s capitalist realism: is there no alternative?, where he writes:

“…anti-capitalism is widely disseminated in capitalism. Time after time, the villain in Hollywood films will turn out to be the ‘evil corporation’. Far from undermining capitalist realism, this gestural anti-capitalism actually reinforces it… We’re left in no doubt that consumer capitalism and corporations… is responsible for this depredation… The film performs our anti-capitalism for us, allowing us to continue to consume with impunity. The role of capitalist ideology is not to make an explicit case for something in the way that propaganda does, but to conceal the fact that the operations of capital do not depend on any sort of subjectively assumed belief… So long as we believe (in our hearts) that capitalism is bad, we are free to continue to participate in capitalist exchange.”

i was so reminded of this passage while watching the film that the first thing i did upon leaving the theater was go through my copy to locate it.

there were also a number of scenes i found, ironically, to convey rather insidious anti-feminist messaging despite the movie’s reputation as (and attempts to live up to the title of) a feminist flick, but i won’t go into those in detail because i’m sure there are people reading this who want to see this film & haven’t yet. in the same vein, i found it to be massively spineless/inauthentic/confused? in the stances it takes because, in an effort to appeal to an audience so broad as to include Basically everyone on the planet, it… doesn’t really commit to any of the stances it presents at all. a lot of the points it tried to make about womanhood, feminism, capitalism, motherhood, and the patriarchy either fell flat or were completely undone by the movie’s end, which is why i found it very funny that some people thought this movie was TOO feminist when i thought it was, frankly, toothlessly feminist.

the sets and costumes were beautiful, the acting was genuinely solid, i liked a lot of the referential pastiche-y moments that cropped up throughout it and i laughed lots at its cleverness because it WAS very witty, but when the credits began to roll i did think, um. maybe we’re in hell. i’m sure some people loved this movie, but sadly i really could not! also mattel now has a Toy cinematic universe planned which is um… great! and doesn’t make me feel a horrible sense of despair or anything

[allwormdiet]

Buzz 7.6

Rod Serling: You are now entering... the Sister Zone

Sighs

Taylor I know this is deeply personal and private stuff, but you are explicitly the one who brought all of it to the forefront

I'm never gonna shed a tear for a fucking Nazi, but that doesn't mean Coil didn't still fuck this up. We see where that controlled chaos gets us in short order, and nobody's gonna be happy with it.

This doesn't go anywhere due to the ensuing violence, but it's a sweet thought

Oh boy.

Oh hey, remembering actions have consequences, good job Taylor. Might've helped if you'd gotten here sooner, but oh well.

It's pretty funny how poorly Sophia has read Taylor. She's on some kind of "leopard can't change its spot" mentality where Taylor was pathetic and will always be pathetic. I'm not sure that was ever true, honestly; the worst chapter of Taylor's life was authored by Emma, apparently because of Sophia. Taylor's supposedly immutable nature as a cowardly vermin was imposed on her by Sophia's worldview.

Also it feels like the mark of a deeply unhealthy mentality that bleeding makes Taylor feel like the situation is easier to deal with. If Emma came at her with a knife would that make her life more bearable? Because that's fucked.

Fucked.

Well, glad to know that awkwardness aside Brian isn't going to question Taylor's recounting of her trigger event.

Well, better late than never to make your case I guess. Late still isn't great though.

And here comes the emotional damage

Man I'm judging both of you for this one, Rachel is great

I feel like Brian saying she's like a sister, when he already has a sister who is dramatically different from her, is. I don't know what it is exactly but it's definitely something. Does he want Aisha to act more like Taylor? Because I don't know that that's ever happening

Dude doesn't have a normal-sounding relationship with women from the sound of it though, honestly. Like he figures there's, what two girls and a Rachel* in his life, plus his mom who he's trying to have out of his life as much as possible? He's clearly got beef with his mother, he's trying to parent Aisha which she doesn't seem super cooperative with, and for Lisa she's something between a friend, coworker, and lieutenant. There was never a classmate he worked on projects with, even in middle school? Nothing came up at any of the prior jobs he's worked? This feels kinda like a him problem.

*Rachel is a girl unless she decides she isn't, but that's not Brian's call to make

I wonder what exactly led Lisa to think that Brian was interested in Taylor. Did she misread him entirely, or is there some level of interest or attraction that would be understood as romantic if Brian had a healthier understanding of relationships and intimacy? Some third thing? I feel like she'd need to tell us herself and God knows if that'll come up for her again.

The luxury of crying. How maddeningly bleak.

Oh boy, I bet we're going to be getting an entirely levelheaded and reasonable reaction out of the fucking Nazis!

Current Thoughts

Brian and Taylor read to me as two deeply fucked up kids who are desperately trying to defy . Brian's got abusive parents (he says his dad's not abusive but he's at best neglectful, and somehow I doubt his mom saved all the horror for Aisha during the time she was involved in raising him) and Taylor's only friend has been running like an eighteen-month campaign to systematically destroy her life.

Taylor seeks control in her life as a cape, being independent and standing tall, being too strong to fuck with. Brian seeks comfort in the belief that he remains normal, that nothing that hurt him has changed him, that he is above his trauma.

This doesn't help either of them, but nobody's giving them the means to actually deal with their shit.

Anyway, uhh, Sophia's got a batshit worldview? I dunno what's got her this way but it's clearly not good for her or, uhh, anyone around her. Maybe that's what she hooked Emma on to lead her down the "bullying Taylor" road, but why would Emma give a shit? And why would Sophia give a shit about Taylor?

Anyway. Next time, we see what the goddamn Purity stans are apparently fine with