#like she has no inhibitions or interest in keeping herself safe

[butcherb1rd]

whenever a karen page segment shows up, i get so incredibly nervous. like i support women’s rights, but she should uhhh take the hint and maybe shut up too? her ass is gonna get killed with all her poking around

[carefulfears]

Hello! I hope you’re having a splendid day, I was wondering if you’d care to share your thoughts on Small Potatoes? I find it fascinating in terms of Mulder and Scully’s relationship, especially Scully’s side of it.

aw hey darling, thank you so much!!

(some earlier chats about small potatoes: here and here)

(light mentions of in-universe SA below the cut)

“gillian was a little nervous about the scene between scully and fake mulder. she didn’t want it to seem like all scully needed to give in and kiss mulder was to get a little wine in her. i didn’t want it to come across like that either. but i told her that these two characters had such a history and had such a great deal of affection for each other that was always just under the surface, and this was more about the two of them loosening their inhibitions just a little. this was not a complete stranger, this was mulder.” - vince gilligan

small potatoes is kind of…..embarrassing for her!

3 things, babes

1/

this moment here, when "mulder" scoots in closer to her, she looks apprehensive, like she doesn't trust it...before leaning in and opening her mouth.

when "mulder" shows up at her door on the weekend with a bottle of wine, she questions it multiple times, even asking him if he's okay, asking him what's going on, clearly concerned. they do spend a lot of time together, and they do talk to each other, but rarely without another direction; rarely without being on the way to another goal.

but ultimately, she quiets her instincts (dana!!!!!) and her unease. she wants to spend time with him, with no excuse or cover. she wants to drink wine with him on a friday night and tell him all about her prom date. she wants to be close to him, and she wants to kiss him.

(worth pointing out that in dreamland ii, scully figures out that morris isn't actually mulder only after he invites her to dinner...from learned experience, she believes body-switching more plausible than the idea that he would be openly interested in her. bleak!)

2/

now, we don't get to see real mulder's journey in this episode, but it's safe to assume that when he escaped the hospital: the first thing that he did was rush scully's apartment.

van blundt is a predator, but not through violence or coercion. his M.O. is that he's lazy, small, and opportunistic. he assaults women by shifting into men they already want to be with, in order for it to appear consensual to them, and all of his previous victims were mislead by him disguising himself as their husbands.

when van blundt takes mulder's identity, mulder is aware enough to burst through the door of scully's apartment franticly and immediately.

3/

awkward and embarrassing!

a month later, mulder visits van blundt in prison per his request, where he tells mulder, "i was born a loser, but you're one by choice."

mulder has opportunities, and he does have choices.

as they walk out, scully keeps her hands in her pockets (she'll keep them to herself) and says, "i don't imagine you need to be told this, mulder, but you're not a loser."

the choice that he's made, that he's making, is alright.

(also, no girl, he does not need to be told that. he walked in on you practically jumping "him." but he's her favorite person.)

all in all......small potatoes takes the underlying tension of episodes like never again (and later, detour) and makes it blatantly unavoidable.

she wants this kind of attention, enough to bypass red flags and lean into it, but that’s not the choice that’s being made. and sometimes that’s uncomfortable to realize.

[moonrocketrabbit]

I have a lot of fandoms I enjoy so I hope that is okay I gush about them from time to time!

One partially original(?) character I like a lot is my alternate universe Scarlet Witch! I have been a fan of Spider-man for a long time, and the Scarlet Witch has become my favourite Marvel hero even if I knew little about her until watching WandaVision :O

However, while I do enjoy her in the Marvel Cinematic Universe, I wished for my own version to have, haha~

(Lots of writing under the cut!)

Her birth name is Wanda Maximoff, but was renamed Wendy when her family was forcefully pushed to leave her mother's home country and they moved to America; with the high tensions between those two regions of the world, her mother insisted on her children being kept safe physically and socially by having them fit into American society at the time. Thus, a very "American" name for an "American" girl, absolutely normal and respectable

But life is not very easy for a girl with dark, curly, thick hair lacking a rosy, pale complexion, especially when struggling with a various things not well-diagnosed at the time. But at least she was normal to the best of circumstances, her mother hoped

However, her X-Gene activated very early in her childhood and she found that she could affect physical matter by rearranging their composition and interacting with the material in unusual ways. What fun!

It was as if she had mysterious powers, and that a lot of her unique difficulties amounted to her being special compared to everyone else. She felt like a hero, a secret saviour-to-be with her fresh abilities!

At least, she thought until her twin, Pietro "Peter" Maximoff developed a superhuman speed when they were children. Her having powers is really cool! But her brother as well? It was still cool, but something felt odd . . .

She opened up to her mother, as, excited children with strange abilities could not be able to keep such secrets to themselves, and the most they learned was that she knew a man who, like her, could control and manipulate matter, specifically metal.

It was not long until what made her feel special and powerful led to feelings of alienation and insecurity, that it was not her being unique but rather unacceptable and strange. She closed up into her bedroom and lost herself in any fictional media she found particular interest in, rarely seen outside if at all

Not an antisocial girl, but an inhibited and reclusive child, her friend circle was occupied solely by her family, and her bestest friend being Peter, her twin who too felt the same self-doubt and insecurities of being oddities. But she was happy when safe and alone, and that was good enough for her . . .

But she was lonely deep down.

She could not communicate well with the peers that did not actively shun her, and she was becoming more and more sensitive and aware of discomforts outside of the safety of her room and home, all hindrances to her living happily and fulfilled as a young girl her age should. But Peter seemed to get along fine, as his mastery of his speed allowed him to disappear and escape the home, and escape consequences for things that caught his interest, anything easily keeping the active brother occupied for his particular attention spans

She occupied herself with her powers, as despite their condemning existence, she had grown attached to this mysterious mutation and honed it for small fancies, such as transmuting her belongings, breaking the sunlight that entered her shady windows, or just floating everything for her amusement. Something that her mother could never talk her out of doing, regardless of their disruption

As they grew up, the twins seemed to fall further apart as Wendy isolated herself more to escape uncomfortable reality and Peter had sought to make his own space in a society unable to be navigated otherwise; sadly, despite being girls, Wendy could not interact with her younger sister, a normal human child, and rarely sought her out to spend time with, and the girl was not interested with Wendy's love of her abnormal mutation

Wendy dressed in dark colours and faded clothes, attracted to the appearance of hiding and blending in, safe from catching attention, but her hair and facial features would easily make her stand out; unwilling to straighten it or touch it, she merely cut it short to the right length

Due to her life, Wendy entered teenage life very distant from people with so many barriers preventing her easing into it. She had difficulty accommodating herself without scrutiny, she had to pay close attention to avoiding attention, her mother pressed upon her the need to divide her heritage from her current life, there was no sense of the nuclear family stability, and to make things extra lonesome . . .

She could not seem to have a lot of experiences that girls her age should have

She had little interest in real people compared to fictional ones, and her fondness for science-fiction and horror was only shared by reclusive older men who spent more money on their hobbies than Wendy had ever received in allowance in her life

Her interests were strict and her "otherness" was very powerful, too powerful for her sake

But despite her years spent shutting herself away in the cozy bedroom of her childhood, Peter did not forget about her and attempted to reach out to his twin on many occasions. He would offer her food from his latest sneak to closed stores, use some speedy help to pull light pranks outside her door (Being mindful of her sensitivities!), or to sit outside her closed room in the middle of the night, both chatting away on something or another that their minds were particularly hyper-focused on

They were not alone, they had their twinship to make sure that in their darkest of times, they had an ally, a partner in crime, a loyal sidekick, a best friend and confidante in each other no matter what happened between them

. . . Until Peter left with the strange men one day.

She was jolted out of an "organizing the collectibles" event in her own room by her sister's loud knocks, and she answered the door to see a very unhappy child asking reluctantly for company. Despite it all, Wendy did love her sister, even if the best she could show was to involve her in unwanted demonstrations of her mutant ability

However, sensitive to changes in her safehouse of a home, she did hear unfamiliar voices downstairs, and a sudden dread that followed when Peter left with them. She occupied herself with extra diligence in spending time with her sister, and only when Peter arrived home again was all well and fine in her kingdom

At least, that was what should have been forever

Peter should not have left to go to another school than her, and should not have left her alone. He should not have changed the occupancy of the house by leaving to live elsewhere. She missed knowing someone was there in the basement room taking up space

Mazda's comfort was empty to Wendy, only being able to internalize her brother leaving as him picking an absent, possibly non-existent father over their current family. She missed having him to physically be around, having a brother she knew was terrorizing the students that heckled her at school, having another mutant alongside herself to share their special secret with

Oh, what a difficult time it is to be a young miss like her . . .

After he had established himself as the hero Quicksilver of the X-Men would Peter return home, to a very distant and coldly irate Wendy who had adjusted to Peter's absence by growing a dislike of him to combat her feelings of discontent; the pair could not talk very well as they did as children, and Wendy seems to have somewhat acclimated to normal life well without him, though still friendless and outwardly depressing

She had even found better footing in human society now with her powers hidden, albeit with reassurance from medical tests that did not detect her mutation; she was a normal young woman returning to college to work towards her degree as the first Maximoff child to do so

But Peter did not come home just to keep in touch with his family, he wanted to specifically bring Wendy with him; his mutant twin deserved the acceptance and environment for people like them as he did, and she could use her powers to help people

But he asked of her a world, and asked of her to give up her current life spent adjusting to the difficulties only she was made to face. She wanted to have her family together, but she did not know if she could make another crucial change in her life to make up for the years of being closeted with the person she is

Only her family knew her mutation, and only her family accepted her. How scary is it to open up to strangers after spending years mastering a disguise to garner basic tolerance from people unlike you?

But maybe if her twin was there with her, maybe it would be better. Maybe this is a good thing, and maybe that is why she made the difficult steps towards following him and arriving at the mansion of one Charles Xavier

For other details about her that would not be easy to depict is that Wendy is asexual, and lacks the interest or desire for relationships with boys or otherwise, but does have a fondness for cyborg, android, or robot characters in science-fiction, pertaining to her canon of being in love with the Vision, who does not exist to my knowledge here

Wendy grows up during the events of the X-Men films, the basis of her inspiration, and her powers are less magical than they are acting like magnetism, radiation, or gravitational fields; her ability to shift matter allowed her to cheat the physical tests seeking the X-Gene in her body

I was inspired by the actor Gratiela Brancusi, a Romani-Greek actor, who seemed like my ideal design for an adult Wendy Maximoff~ Particularly, her face was beautiful and striking to me :O

Where her brother has traits of ADHD, Wendy possesses symptoms of autism, but due to the attitudes and poor research of it by this time, would not be known, only that Wendy seems to have a certain number of difficulties with what should be easy for others

I really liked the idea of a healthy and strong sibling dynamic, with a touch of twin comraderie~ Wendy and Peter are understanding and open siblings who care for each other very much, and would likely go to the ends of the world for the other if asked to, but that is why it hurts Wendy more that Peter would disturb the delicate balance of her already overly stressful life by becoming a hero

I will add more or share more as I brainstorm her! But for now this is already a lot that I had written, haha!

I hope any Scarlet Witch fans enjoy if they do~

[doyouknowhowtowaltz]

Please, I must know about your Addams Family AU, my curiosity keeps me up nights

Bear in mind there's little in the way of story put together right now, so I am going to throw down the notes for this au, and a lot of really early sketches.

Meet the Addams! (A break for your convenience because this is long as hell)

- Enoch, Beast, Young Lorna, Whispers, and Adelaide Addams make up the Addams family (in addition to Pumpkin (cat) and Turtle (Dog)

- Beast is the only blood Addams in the lot, and is heir to the Addam's fortune, his living relatives are distant, most don't even share the family name anymore, and all immediate family have been dead and dust for at least a decade.

- Both Whispers and Adelaide are sisters that married into the family and have been since widowed

- Enoch is married into the family (Through Beast, who else)

- Lorna's specific relation to the family is never specified, everyone is Auntie and Uncle, as far as the town is concerned, she's everyone's niece. Its also highly debated if anyone in the family actually knows where Lorna came from.

- Enoch and the Beast are exactly in love as Gomez and Morticia,

- Enoch somehow has even less inhibitions about showing it than Gomez

- Enoch is friendly, the neighbors love him, thinking he's the most normal one of the bunch despite his... unconventional dressing. Strangers who are new to the family normally latch onto him when faced with the... oddity of the rest of the family.

- One problem with this, Enoch isn't a man. He's man-shaped... barely. Enoch's eldritch nature is continually hinted at as part of a long running joke in this AU about Enoch being the normal one despite making no secret of the fact he feels terribly limited by two arms.

- (This is the version of Enoch that made me enact the Rat test)

- There's a rumor running around the neighborhood about a black cat that calls itself Providence and will strike up a conversation with you if you greet it politely.

- Enoch, of course, denies any connection.

- Enoch, weird as he might be, and off-putting as he is on second meeting, does actually have a lot of friends in town, some as odd as him and some perfectly normal average humans who are undaunted in the face of his family.

- One such individual is Miss Clara Dean, who is a finance lawyer for the Addams, and while she might have been shaken when she first met them, she's well past gawking at their odd home and traditions now

- His human glamor is tied to his bolo, I will not elaborate

- Enoch runs for mayor every opportunity, he never wins, but its always by thinner margins than should really be possible

- Adelaide never took her husband's last name, making her the only Addams who's not an Addams.

- She's fussy about the night air, dreadfully superstitious, and quite spiderlike, right down to a colorful web she keeps. She would have married Beast if he had shown a flicker of interest in him.

- She can divine the weather and sometimes says strange things about blue birds and curses

- She doesn't get out much, the neighbors don't know much about her, but all the neighborhood kids agree, she's definitely a witch.

- Whispers is very kind, and if you get past the initial shine on Enoch, probably the most normal of the family

- Except that she eats animals live

- And is also a witch (Probably, definitely, the neighborhood kids all agree, she's gotta be they insist.) Between her and Enoch they are the most out and about members of the Addams family.

- Lorna is quiet, shy, very sweet

- And she eats people.

- She also has a drowned ghost routine she likes to practice on door to door sales people by climbing out of the well in the backyard to give them a scare.

- Lorna's teachers are concerned by her behavior and encyclopedia knowledge of anatomy and torture, but are more concerned about calling a parent-teacher conference, since the entire Addams Clan will show up.

- Lorna sleeps under her bed instead of on it, Whispers occasionally frets about her waking up and knocking herself against the baseboards of the bed, Beast waves her off telling her its perfectly natural, at her age he was sleeping in a coffin.

- She of course ends up with Wednesday's classic noose braids at some point, courtesy of her uncles usually

- There's a red-haired girl who's tough as nails and maybe a little rude about Lorna's family who has been steadily hanging out with her, eventually Beatrice's mom invites the Addams over for dinner, it goes well all things considered.

- And that brings us to Mr. Addams himself,

- Beast wasn't christened Beast, but he hardly remembers the name on his birth certificate anyway.

- Sporting a stunning hat-veil constantly, and a floor length dress (Always black, only black maybe some red, sometimes a little blue and yellow), its safe to say no one in the neighborhood knows what Beast looks like, even if he did ever leave the Addams manor.

- Which he doesn't.

- The nicer gossips muse that he's agoraphobic, and the ruder ones say he's batshit and they're frankly glad he stays inside.

- Beast isn't inherently rude... most of the time, but he is incredibly disconcerting, and gives complements like a serial killer. Which does not help the numerous rumors that surround him and his family.

- He sings too, roaming the woods on the Addams property at night, and he's responsible for a fair few ghost stories.

- And his garden, its a bitter grey thing, and its almost artfully... decrepit, decorated by ornamental trees with grey-orange leaves and bark that almost looks like screaming faces. And his rose bushes, they're his pride and joy. They are so high maintenance though, when they bloom, he spends hours cutting their heads off.

- Every now and then, someone comes to the house, a door to doors salesman, a child on a dare, someone chasing stories of the Addams Fortune.

- All's well and good unless they manage to break into the house. Sometimes they get tangled in Adelaide's traps, sometimes Whispers finds them and ushers them out the door with an ominous warning, sometimes Lorna scares them out of the house and works herself into a giggling fit. Sometimes Enoch finds them, and he's all politeness and veiled menace.

- Oh, but heaven help the fool who gets found by Beast.

- I think that about wraps it up!

Something something cats on leashes, they're grossly in love.

[misswenndy]

THE BEAUTY OF DOMINANCE

Owning a submissive, can be one of the most beautiful things a woman can ever own.  There is so much potential in owning a submissive male.  I say own, within the context of love being the foundation. It’s not a forced ownership, since he wants to be owned, but make no mistake, the true power really does lie in her capable hands. Once a submissive goes down the road of being owned, he feels like he belongs to her. She feels like he is her personal property.  This is a bond between them, that only deepens in time.

It really does get to a point where, a submissive male wouldn’t want to be anywhere else than under her complete control. He trusts and loves her so completely, that he surrenders to her in love. He knows any other way to be in life, pales in comparison compared to being totally devoted to her. He dares not disobey, even if disobedience is easy, or even if, he can get away with it without her noticing. A true submissive, will obey for the sake of obeying her. He will have no second thoughts about it, his ego is completely hers to mold. He has become loyal to her authority, and her as a person.

This is why it’s so incredibly important that she understands her power, and does not use it to abuse him. Because she can, easily, abuse him, and many submissive’s will take that abuse for a while, when they should be standing up and saying no. The fault always lies with the abuser, it is her responsibility, and a submissive, should know, that it’s always okay to stand up and say no, when he feels abused. She needs to respect that for the sake of a healthy relationship. She also needs to respect that for the sake of her loving submissive, and to always have an optimal level of willing submission from him at all times. The sheer level of submission that can come from his is on par with bliss.

Once in control, all trust issues disappear, she never has to worry about what he thinks of her, and most importantly, he is always desiring her. She never has to have body insecurity issues, because his tongue is eager to be used at all times of the day, any time she wants to use it.  Any where she wants to use. For as long as she wants to use it.   This eliminates any kind of guilt she has ever had about sex.  It helps her establish her own sexual desire, and to always please herself when she feels the urge.  It’s total freedom of female sexuality and expression. 

She gets to wear anything she wants, around the house, or out of the house, often, acting single, while keeping her submissive as her owned monogamous pet. She can choose monogamy too, the choice is hers. She understands that he gets no say in her sex life, ever, unless she gives him a say. But, she gets total say in his sex life. He may never even get an erection without her permission. He may never touch his penis ever again without her permission. Or he may be tied down any time the cage comes off, if it comes off. 

His ass is hers to smack, spank, or enjoy with a strap-on, anytime. He gets no say in that either. His body is her amusement park, and the sheer joy that she can have exploring his body, even with just her hands and nails, while he squirms can be a delight few women have ever known. She also gets to dress him however she wants to dress him.  Many women love feminizing a male because it turns him into one of her accessories, in the same way she once played with dolls. It’s incredibly fun to dress a submissive up and put her personal touch on him, and always have him wearing what she wants. He is hers to own, and he will look owned by her. He gets no say in that, except in vanilla situations that may call for a more masculine look. 

But the most interesting part about it, is that vanilla life becomes the play, it is no longer the serious formal identity it used to be, for either of you. You are dominant and submissive, that’s who you really are, and even in the vanilla world, there is that knowing of who owns who. Her ownership of him will always be the forefront of his world, and it will always be her expectation, that he is at her feet on demand, at any time.

The beauty of dominance is that expectation. The expectation that he will endure any and all kinds of sexual tease, that he will give up all sexual rights of his body, and be hers entirely. He accepts her as the authority and as the key to his sex life, and may remain without sexual release for weeks or months or years. His sacrifice is never ignored by her, but accepted with love, and enforced with her power and dominance. She will make sure that he always honors his submission to her by remaining strict. 

The beauty of dominance means she never has a worry, fear or doubt about him ever again. This will cause a huge surge in her own confidence as a woman, if she hasn’t discovered her dominance before. Once she has that confidence, she is geared to live the best life she can possibly live, with her submissive loyally at her side, supportive of her decisions, and always helping her succeed. In return, she is his structure in life, she is the missing piece of the puzzle he has always needed, the purpose he has always longed for. That’s the beauty of dominance.

Teach Him!

One very interesting aspect of a FLR, and in particular, of submissive males, is that they are eager to please. Submissive males want to please, it makes them feel good to give pleasure.  Especially sexual pleasure, but it doesn’t have to be sexual. They will happily clean the bathroom just to be told they’re a good boy, and win approval or brownie points toward a possible release from chastity. However, most submissives males, while eager to please, are quite clueless on how to go about it. They want to please her their way, in any way they know how. A smart submissive understands he must not only be eager to please, but also, eager to learn. 

Lets face it, most males in general, are terrible at eating pussy. If she isn’t on her back shuddering, and grabbing his hair and pulling him closer, moaning while she does it, he’s not doing a good enough job. As his dominant, never be afraid to speak up about it from the get go. Tell him exactly how you want him to improve, tell him what techniques work and also tell him to be creative.  When you don’t know what’s coming, sometimes that can bring very intense orgasms. So a sudden change in tongue pattern, or a finger at the right time can make all the difference in the world.

Remember that his orgasms depend upon the quality of your orgasms, so he has every incentive to please you the right way. Give him lots of opportunities to practice, that’s the beauty of having a submissive in the first place, he’s always ready and eager for you. You can quickly teach him to be an oral expert, even if it was an awkward road to getting there, submissives learn quickly if you’re dedicated to teaching them. Before long all you will have to do is lay back and relax while he goes to town, and that’s how it should be. Your pleasure should always be his only focus, that’s just the nature of the relationship. 

Don’t just stop at oral though, and especially not at just eating pussy. Keep him chaste long enough, and any inhibitions he ever had about eating ass will disappear like they never existed in the first place. Of course, be healthy about it, but not shy!  Teach him how to best perform oral on both areas simultaneously, so that when you’re in the midst of cumming, your back door is being pleasured as well, sending you to new heights of orgasmic bliss. Then you can have him orally service you anywhere, any time you please, and be an expert at it. 

But don’t just stop there, teach him so much more, teach him, how to give you massages, feet, back, sensual, soft, with / without oil... Whatever it is you prefer. With tongue, without tongue. Hands only, or tongue only... You get to customize how  and what he learns. Teach him to pamper you. Teach him what lotions do, moisturizers, and creams. Teach him to shave you, paint your nails, give you a pedicure. Teach him that your femininity is his priority. And don’t let him ever avoid your period, show him everything about it, teach him how to use a tampon, show him the blood. Get him so comfortable with your period that he never shys away when you talk about it. So that, he can provide you emotional and physical support when you tell him you’re on it. Even to the point where, he knows your cycle as good as you do, and anticipates the little things before it even starts. Teach him everything about you, he’s your submissive, you are his priority, so don’t ever let him get away with slacking off, or avoiding one thing but not another. Teach him so much, that, he is your rock, your confidant, your safe haven, your support, your security, your trust, and your love. Then be all those things for him, because you value his submission to you, and cherish the gift that it is.

The Strap On

One of the biggest kinks in a FLR is the strap on. There are many reasons why they’re so common and popular. They benefit both partners equally in different ways making it the perfect sex toy to have in your kinky collection.  However it goes beyond simply being a sex toy, as a strap on can have huge psychological effects as well as physical.  It can really enhance the D/s dynamic because its the perfect tool for role reversal. 

When a strap on is combined with chastity, some real magic can happen between partners.  The longer he is chaste, the more likely he is to crave some sort of anal play, as his prostate gets bigger and more sensitive, craving any kind of stimulation. Even if he doesn’t crave anal play, it is actually healthy for him to have the prostate stimulated, during long lock ups, so it’s for his own good anyway!  This is why a strap on can be so much fun.  He either craves it, or it is humiliating to him, or both!  

This is perfect for a domme as well, as she gets to discover the power of having a penis between her legs, and his moans of pleasure or discomfort, as she begins to thrust into him. This alone, can be an extremely high level of power exchange and very erotic for her. She can take him with her strap on until he is whimpering horny and deep in sub space. There are no concerns about him cumming from the strap on, because this generally requires a lot of time and concentrated effort and technique to achieve. It is possible, if that is what she wants, but she has full control over that. Leaving him horny, makes for an eager tongue after she is finished taking him with the strap on. A tongue in which, she is equally eager for!

The strap on is much more fun than simply just bending him over, there are many ways in which a strap on can be used, which can make it a symbol of her dominance over him.  Often, a strap on is bigger than his penis, and she can tease him about that, saying her cock is bigger than his, while taking him with it.  Or for even more fun, she could allow him to wear it over his cage, and allow him to have intercourse with her using it. Since its bigger than his own penis, she can tease and say how much better it feels.

She could even go so far as to name her cock, and have her sub respect it, by cleaning it after use. Or sucking it to lube it up. Just looking down into his eyes can give both partners a power exchange rush that creates a strong erotic charge.  She can also make him practice his sucking techniques, if she plans on bringing other males into the relationship at some point. Once she has named her strap on, her submissive will have to worship it in the same way he worships her body, because it’s her cock. The psychological effects this can have, can send him deep into subspace, and she can keep him there. 

The strap on can also come in very handy as a punishment. Sometimes a submissive just needs a good hard strap on session, ordering him to get the strap on, and bend over on command, can be a powerful technique. Taking him with it often, even when he’s not in the mood, will help him adjust his behavior to understand, it’s not his bum, it’s hers. His resistance to it, will soon drop away, and the strap on will become a symbol of her power. 

Perhaps eventually, it may be the only way he is allowed to cum.  This can be common if she likes to feminize him, he can literally become the female in the relationship, and cum from anal only, while still caged. There’s so many possibilities with the strap on, including attachments that can provide her stimulation while using it making it even more fun.  It’s just one more tool in the femdom box, that she can use to completely dominate and own her submissive in all the ways she’s always wanted.  It is all about her, after all.

[anders-hawke]

Hey, loaf! Based on that post from the other day, would you be up for writing something where Scully finds out she is infertile in s2?

Yeah, I can do that for you, loaf. 💓 I definitely took this prompt and ran away with it kjsdhfjsdhf. The first section fulfills the prompt but the rest leads into an AU because I decided that I don’t want to hurt my Scullybaby <3.

Branched

The doctors all agreed that once her body readjusted, her menstrual cycle would follow suit. It was irregular before due to birth control but she’s been off it since she was... Scully hates to even think the word. It’s been months since Mulder stopped looking at her as if a simple hand on her back could break her, and her menstrual cycle isn’t even irregular—she just doesn’t have one anymore.

It’s baffled all the doctor’s she’s seen. Scully writes it off as an effect of whatever experiments were done to her and accepts her doctors’ conclusions that there’s nothing to be done about it unless she’s interested in having children.

The idea hasn’t crossed her mind much, aside from a distant yearning when she’s with her godson. She always assumed that she’d have kids one day after she fell in love with the right guy. Scully doesn’t know what she wants for her future anymore. All she knows is that she wants justice, and she wants the truth—both for herself and for Mulder.

Her newfound infertility is...something. She doesn’t want more pity. If she was stifled after her—if she was stifled before, Scully can only imagine that if she tells Mulder and her family that she can’t get pregnant it’ll be worse. The—what happened to her is something she can move on from, but this is not.

—

She’s experiencing early menopause, her doctor declares. It seems so final. She cries herself to sleep and goes into work the next day as if the shards of her future haven’t been ground to dust.

Though she’d tried not to give any of this much thought, she’d somehow assumed that the chip had been inhibiting the release of her ova for an unknown reason—maybe propagation is counterintuitive to Their agenda, who knows—but to find out that she didn’t have any, that all her chances at motherhood were gone... It’s a grief unlike any other.

—

Allentown. The name sends shivers down her spine if she so much as thinks of it. Flashes of her abduction (say it say it say it, don’t let them control you, you’re stronger than the trauma) and the knowledge that all the women at the MUFON meeting had chips and fertility issues and cancer... She takes off the next day and books an appointment with an oncologist.

The scans come back negative. The women said it could take up to two years to appear, though. Scully prays to God that it never happens.

—

She’ll never be a mother. Some days it hits harder than others. Some days she wishes that she could lay her head down and wake up in a world where she and Mulder have the lives they always wanted. She feels so violated and so disrespected, some days. On those days, she lashes out at Mulder, tries to leave him and this life of lies behind, but she can’t.

He’s not someone she can just walk away from.

These are the days that she smokes. These are the days that she calls up Ellen and asks for all the gossip she’s amassed. These are the days she gets drunk over the phone with her friend and spills secrets that no one else gets to know. Trent’s turning eight, Danes. I’m infertile, El. It’s funny how the person she sees the least knows the most about what’s happened to her.

These are also the days when she hits the town and drinks until she forgets. Sometimes she’ll go home with someone for the night and leave early in the morning, Mulder on her mind. He doesn’t know. He can’t know. It would break him even though it’s not about him, even though it’s not his fucking life.

—

She wakes up to a nosebleed and prays to God that he’ll give her a few more months to live. Just until Mulder’s ready, she thinks, tears running down her face as she holds a wad of tissues to her nose. Just until he’s ready to let go. He’s been such a constant in her life, such a tether. When things get bad, they go their separate ways, but they always come back to each other and find their balance.

It makes sense for him to be the first person to see confirmation of her cancer. It feels like the final blow. First, they take away her ability to make life, and then they take away her own life. She’s made her peace with it.

Mulder hasn’t—he refuses to do so. Standing there in the hospital hallway days later, Scully lets herself love him. His lips are soft against her chapped ones and her edges feel burned and frayed, but his love keeps her together.

“I found something, Scully,” he murmurs when their kiss has faded into an embrace with her head on his chest.

Her brows furrow. “What do you mean?”

“I found your ova.” There’s so much going on in that four letter sentence that it bowls her over.

“You—you did?”

“I took as many vials as I could and got them into a freezing container. I shipped them off to the Gunmen before I came here. They can keep them safe for when you get better.”

Scully’s chin starts to tremble and she presses her face into Mulder’s chest. “What if I never do?”

He cups her cheeks and gently makes her face him. “I won’t let that happen.”

She wants to believe him with all her heart. “I want to believe...” she whispers, a tear streaking down her cheek.

“Give me your fear,” he tells her, “and believe. I need you to believe.”

She nods against his chest.

—

Scully cries when she gives him the news of her remission, pulling Mulder into her embrace and showering his head with kisses and thank yous. He’s given her a second chance at life, but more than that, a chance at motherhood.

(“Dana, I have excellent news for you: your cancer is shrinking. You’re going into remission.” And then, when the shock and the joy had run their immediate courses: “It also seems that, in due time, your menstrual cycle will resume, so no worries on that end.”)

It’ll be months before she can truly start the process but she already feels lighter than ever before.

—

She waits a week after her return to work to ask him. They’re at his apartment, Scully curled against him as the movie’s credits roll. “Mulder,” she whispers, checking to see if he’s asleep.

“Hm?” He rolls his head to crack his neck.

“Will you make a baby with me?”

He looks down at her, eyes wide. “What?”

“I’ve been seeing a fertility doctor, a friend of mine. She’s examined the ova—along with several of her colleagues—and declared them viable.” Scully can’t keep the tremulous smile off her face as she gives him the news. “She said that I just have to secure a donor to begin the treatment plan. I want that donor to be you. I mean, you practically threw yourself at me in Home last year...”

She traces her finger along the back of his hand, looking away to give him some space. After a moment, he says, “You want me to...to be part of that equation?”

Scully takes a deep breath and sits up so that their faces are level, shaking her head. “I want to have kids with you.” She maneuvers one leg between his thigh and the arm of the couch so she’s straddling him, and sits down on his thighs. “I want you to be the father of my kids.”

Mulder gazes at her like a lost puppy until she reaches out to wipe away a tear trailing along his cheek. “Me?”

She nods and cups his cheeks. “You.”

He nods with her, a smile spreading across his lips. “Okay.”

“Yeah?”

“Yeah! Yeah.”

They’ve been reduced to monosyllabic words in their joy, giving up on words all together as they fade into deliriously happy teary-eyed laughter. Scully leans forward and kisses him.

—

To no one’s surprise and Bill’s chagrin, she tugs Mulder along to her family’s Christmas gathering at her brother’s place in San Diego. Emily’s existence only reaffirms their decision to do IVF together and their relationship. They’ve been more of a team than ever, and perhaps that’s what saves Emily in the end.

Mulder and Scully put off all the major changes they were planning to make in favor of giving Em time to adjust to her new life. She clings to them until she gets familiarized with everything, until “Dana” and “Mul’er” phase into “Mommy” and “Daddy”.

He learns how to make chocolate chip pancakes with his eyes half-closed at six in the morning. They both learn car seats like the back of their hands. They get used to this new life where the only reason they wake up in the middle of the night is to comfort their daughter and not board a red-eye flight for a case.

—

Scully’s known that Mulder’s a thorough person when he wants to be since they met. What she didn’t know is that he’s also extremely sappy. He kisses her frequently for no reason in the office, and his porn mag collection has been replaced by a stack of books on IVF and pregnancy and childhood developmental stages. He has a calendar tacked to the wall next to his door with all the important dates on it.

They tell Skinner about their relationship and the IVF in confidence, filling him in on all the relevant things to their decision to leave the X-Files. The department must go on, but they can’t be the ones to breath life into them with Emily and a baby. Skinner says he knows “some excellent agents” that can fill their roles.

Mulder goes with her to every appointment, even if he can only sit outside in the waiting room until he’s called in. He holds her hand during every comprehensive pregnancy test that’s done, and kisses away her tears when they come back negative.

They look at apartments together when they find the time between Emily and their new assignments, and sometime between moving in and starting Em with her new pre-school, something wonderful happens. When the test comes back positive, they both start crying at the clinic.

“Mulder...”

“Scully...”

—

“You’re really okay with passing on the torch?” she asks in bed that night once Emily’s sacked out.

He nods against her forehead, his hand on her belly. “I’ve spent my whole life looking for Samantha, but I’ve never let her move on. Maybe she doesn’t want to be found. Maybe she’s dead. Maybe I’ll never find out. But I can’t pursue the answer to the question of what happened to her at the cost of everything else. You’re the one who taught me that there’s more to life than trying to solve mysteries.”

Scully nuzzles his nose. “You taught me something, too.”

“Oh?”

“You taught me how to have the courage to believe.”

[artificialqueens]

Something More (Taywhora) - pureCAMP

A/N - Hi Ortega, love you xx

Here’s a cheeky little girl band au in which A'Whora is sort of in love with her bandmate, Lawrence is sort of in love with her makeup artist, and Bimini has no idea what’s going on. Enjoy, bing bang bong <3

Death by a thousand cuts lingers on A’Whora’s mind. There seems to be a million ways to express how she’s feeling; the straw that broke the camel’s back, the final tipping point. The way that little things just build and build and build until their crushing weight is suddenly made noticeable to the poor fool trapped beneath them, already without any hope of survival.

Maybe she’s being dramatic, maybe poetic. Maybe that’s why she’s good at writing lyrics, why she scribbles them down in glittery notebooks that Lawrence makes fun of her for buying. They can hardly use what she writes in her free time, the need for fun, relatable and light-hearted lyrics far outweighing the demand for her emotional ramblings, but nevertheless she’s still alright at it.

More than anything, it’s the numbness that bothers her. This pain isn’t jarring, soul destroying, artistically tragic like she wishes it was. She mostly feels an ever-present nothing, with the occasional empty hole like a vacuum in her stomach that weighs on her late at night, alone in bed. The feeling is heavy and cold, but she can’t describe it any better than that. She’s tried, and the scrunched up paper and furiously crossed out words provide more than enough explanation as to how that endeavour went.

Is she ridiculous to be angry over wanting a little communication, knowing she herself hasn’t done it either? Is she hypocritical for internally begging Tayce to explain when she knows full well she’s not explained her side?

Whatever the answer, she’s an idiot for hooking up with her bandmate.

Sighing frustratedly, she throws her pencil across the room, likely to never be seen again, and shuts her notebook. The pencil flies through the air and hits the wall just as Lawrence enters, missing her head by mere centimetres. She reels backwards out of shock and then clings onto the doorframe, one hand on her heaving chest.

“Fuck me! You trying to kill me or something?” Lawrence demands, her expressions every bit as big and blown up as they are on stage.

A’Whora flops onto her bed as Lawrence sits on hers - they’re sharing the hotel room, Tayce and Bimini paired up across the hall.

“Not you, babes.” She rolls her eyes at herself, stretching her legs out as her head crashes into the pillow.

Lawrence snorts. “Trouble in paradise?”

“It’s far from fucking paradise and you know it, you nasty bitch.” A’Whora shoots back, relieved that neither of them are stupid enough to interpret any malice in the harsh way they speak to one another.

Truth be told, A’Whora and Tayce’s hooking up is probably the worst kept secret in all their band management. Tayce seems to think nobody knows, and she’s all the happier for it, but A’Whora knows for a fact that Lawrence, the entire style team and their management all know what’s going on - it’s really only Bimini, bless her, who’s in the dark about it. The second worst kept secret is Lawrence and their makeup artist, Ellie, but that’s the farthest from A’Whora’s mind currently.

“It used to be fun, you know what I mean, like? Like it’s just me and Tayce and we’re having a good time and everything, there’s no pressure for dating or nothing like that, ‘cause she weren’t ready for it.”

Lawrence blinks. “Am I supposed to be sensing a problem here, or?”

A’Whora groans. “Shut up, bitch, I’m trying to do a fucking monologue for you! Anyway, it’s just weird because I swear like I haven’t done anything and nothing’s changed at all but her texts are really friendly rather than like flirty now?”

“And you haven’t sent me off to Ellie’s room in a while so the two of you can fuck like rabbits.” Lawrence finishes, a sly grin on her face knowing that she’s just pissed A’Whora right off by interrupting the aforementioned monologue.

Crude as she is, she’s right - and A’Whora probably would’ve worded it in a way more disgusting manner herself. It’s a decent system that they’ve rigged up, honestly. Whenever Tayce texts, or A’Whora texts her, she sends Lawrence off to go find Ellie, makes up some lie about why their bandmate isn’t sleeping in their room tonight, and then they can spend some quality time together. It’s simple but efficient, hence its brilliance.

“Sorry babes. You know you can still go see her even if I’m not seeing Tayce?”

Lawrence snorts. “Nah, you’re fine. To be honest she’s fucked me right off recently so I’m not in the mood to see her.”

It’s horrible, but A’Whora’s secretly glad that she’s not the only one entangled in some kind of romantic or sexual turmoil. “Aw, what did she do?”

“None of your business, you nosy bitch!” Lawrence half-yells, but bizarrely, she’s still not mad. “You were ranting about your secret lover?”

“Fuck off,” She shoots back, “I was done, anyway. She’s just, like, reset. I don’t get it.”

She’s not strong enough to confide what she really thinks. It clouds her mind constantly, a small part of her brain daring her to just come out and say it in the malicious hope that she’ll find out how it feels to broadcast. Her stupid, selfish brain is worried that Tayce has met someone, someone she likes, someone she’d be willing to, or interested in, pursuing a romantic relationship with. Because romance has never been part of their deal, something they’d agreed on. Romance was off the table for Tayce because she wasn’t ready, and A’Whora was fine with that.

Maybe she was in the wrong for going along with the hook ups and flirting under false pretences. A’Whora had hoped, secretly, that over time, Tayce’s aversion to love and commitment might begin to soften, and surely the most natural, safe way to ease into it would be with someone who she already knew could have a fun flirty rapport with her, not to mention a metric fuckton of sexual chemistry?

Behind every flirty text held the secret hope that Tayce’s feelings would one day find the strength to break out. A’Whora hadn’t meant to get attached to her bandmate like she had, but there seemed to be fuck all she could do about it now.

“Well,” Lawrence announces, rolling onto her back and gesturing up in the air with her arms, “You’re fucked off, I’m fucked off, I say we go and get absolutely steamin’ and forget that we’ve ever felt a positive emotion towards someone who doesn’t give a fuck.”

A’Whora closes her eyes, heart sinking. “I’d actually love to, but we can’t just go the two of us, because then we’re leaving out the others. Bims’ll wanna come, and if Bims comes we have to invite Tayce and I literally don’t wanna see her because it’s so weird that I’ve been like, demoted to friend.”

“She removed the benefits,” Lawrence nods understandingly, “In many ways, we could compare her to the Tory government.”

“Could we fuck,” A’Whora laughs in spite of her own heavy misery. “You’re literally insane. Loz, what the fuck do I do about this?”

Lawrence shrugs. “I told you, my best solution is to go and get smashed! If we just drink here then we didn’t go out without anyone so we didn’t break any friend rules and they’re none the fucking wiser to our collective romance issues.”

The word romance makes A’Whora tense - it’s uncomfortable to think about it like that, almost embarrassing to dwell on her own feelings as having a romantic nature about them from a purely sexual relationship. Luckily for her, a sneaky or perhaps Freudian slip catches her attention and drags it away from her own issue, A’Whora bolting upright to stare at her friend.

“Lawrence Chaney. Did you just say collective romance issues? I thought you and Ellie were just fanny friends!”

Understandably, Lawrence is horrified at her turn of phrase, but A’Whora doesn’t miss the telltale reddening of her ears that suggests she’s said something she shouldn’t have. An eye-roll powerful enough to induce a tsunami follows Lawrence shifting herself up, glaring at A’Whora, and then scowling.

“First,” She replies, one finger wagging in front of her, “Never fucking say fanny friends ever again. Second…”

A’Whora gasps, already anticipating some gossip.

“You’re gonna get me a fucking gin if you’re gonna make me talk about this.”

-

More intelligent girls, or perhaps just less heartache-y ones, would know better than to get wasted in their hotel room the night before a show, but A’Whora and Lawrenced have never been the best at smart decisions. Ironically, it’s the deceptively smart bimbo Bimini who usually is able to reign them in, though she often chooses not to. Left to their own devices, there’s a lot of gin and a little bit of lemonade that seems to mysteriously disappear as tongues get looser and inhibitions get lowered. Before they even know what’s happening, both girls are sitting on the floor between their beds, legs stretched out before them, bemoaning their woeful, humiliating love lives.

It’s almost as if they think that if they don’t get it right now, they never will. To some extent, in A’Whora’s mind, that’s true, even when she knows, realistically, that she’s only in her mid-twenties and life goes on. But really, what is love if not an agony freezing you in time, a force that makes the past a mere blur and the future non-existent? Love is present and now, and if she misses her chance, who says there’ll be another?

(Almost everyone says there will. But A’Whora is drunk and her words are happy and her mind is sad.)

Luckily, Lawrence has been talking for long enough that A’Whora doesn’t have to spill all her thoughts into a drunken spiel that she knows wouldn’t make a lick of sense. She keeps swearing and avoiding the point, but somewhere in her long-winded ramble confessions start to unravel themselves, and a good scandal is enough to distract her for the time being.

“So I fuckin’ - aw fuck, hen, do me a favour and refill me?” Lawrence asks, A’Whora just passing her the bottle and gesturing for her to continue. “I fuckin’ asked her, y’know, are we just doing this or are we something more, like, fuckin’ stupid thing to ask honestly and I regretted it as soon as I did but then she answered and fuck me.”

She makes an effort to impersonate Ellie - a slightly higher pitched, slightly less intensely Scottish accent with something of a mockingly nervous whine to it as she repeats, “I’m keeping my options open. Fuckin’ options! I’ve no’ had anyone since her and I wouldny’ fuckin’ want to either and she’s fuckin’ got A, B, C or D all the fuckin’ above! It’s fucked.”

A’Whora gasps. “Bitch, you proper like her! You like Ellie!”

“Say that any louder and I’ll box your fuckin’ ears,” Lawrence threatens, only half kidding judging by the glare in her eyes. “Am I wrong to feel fuckin’ betrayed that I didn’t know she was seeing others as well as me?”

She snorts. “Loz, babes, I’m losing my mind at the very idea that Tayce has found someone, look who you’re talking to.”

Lawrence shrugs in agreement. “Makes me feel sick.”

There’s a pause. “Actually, that might be the gin.”

Another pause. “Oh, it’s the gin.”

She all but launches herself up and towards the bathroom, A’Whora instantly going into a flap. If Lawrence is sick on the carpet she’ll literally never forgive her, but she needs to help her friend, but fuck if she’s gonna stand there in the bathroom gagging at her. She decides, vaguely last minute, to run out into the corridor and grab some cold water from the machine, panicking and shouting her plan in the general direction of the bathroom before dashing outside. Embarrassing, but at twenty five years old A’Whora still can’t handle someone being sick.

A brief but unwelcome thought flits into her head - I’d help Tayce. She shakes it away, tells herself she wouldn’t, but a sad stupid part of her knows she could sit there and painfully gag her way through helping Tayce if she needed to, because she’s a spineless idiot who fell for her bandmate. There’s a flash of guilt for the fact that she wouldn’t do the same for Bims or Lawrence, but reasons that she has to draw the line somewhere.

The hotel has this awful chintzy carpet, a weird swirly print on a red base that reminds A’Whora of weird-smelling care homes and outdated grandma’s houses. Just looking at it makes her head spin uncomfortably - maybe she’s a little drunker than she thought. Perhaps she’ll get two cups of ice water instead, sober herself up a bit and all.

Then Tayce is standing in front of her all of a sudden and A’Whora has no idea how she’s got there.

(Did she… summon Tayce? Manifest her presence?)

“Girl, you alright? You look a state,” She greets, her accent charming enough to rid the words of their potential offense.

A’Whora vaguely points ahead of her, aware of how dumb she probably looks. “Goin… getting water for Loz. She’s absolutely pissed.”

Tayce laughs, baffled. “Babes, what are you playing at getting drunk the night before a show? Gotta make sure you shake off the hangovers before or else you’re done for!”

“Water fixes all.” A’Whora has no idea what to say. Why would she? She’s been lamenting this girl’s very existence for the past…. God knows how many hours, and now she’s here and she has to slip the besties facade back on except she’s a bit too drunk to remember how to do it properly. Sober A’Whora is going to cringe for days over this, she already knows.

Unsurprisingly, Tayce starts to follow her to grab the water, declaring “Well I’m coming with you, sounds like you’re gonna need someone sober to put you both in bed, you absolute lunatics.”

They’re just walking next to each other and yet A’Whora has never analysed her own way of walking so much in her life before this moment. Are her steps too large? Her arms swinging too much, or too little? Which foot comes next? Is Tayce thinking about how weirdly she’s moving? Should she be trying to keep pace with her or will that be even weirder and she’ll realise what a creep she’s been hooking up with all this time and fully decide against any possibility of something more between them?

They’re just walking. Just one foot and then the next.

Ahead of them, the water cooler glistens like a mirage in a desert, a tantalising goal signalling the end of their journey. A’Whora almost feels like she’s been trekking for hours next to Tayce, unsure of what to say, unsure of what her own act to keep up with is.

Naturally, she fumbles in her attempt to get a flimsy plastic cup from the stack, and then all come crashing down before she can even realise what’s happening. She turns to look at Tayce, the both of them momentarily stunned.

“Oh my god, you absolute beast!” Tayce screeches, her voice hushed for the sake of the late night but laughing all the same, clutching the cooler for balance. “We gotta pick all these up now!”

They do; A’Whora thinks about accidentally brushing her fingers over Tayce’s as they scramble to get everything, and then doesn’t. She thinks about abandoning the water and fumbling keys into locks until they fall into one another and forget everything else. She thinks about just blurting out the truth.

By the time all of the potential scenarios have flown dizzyingly through A’Whora’s drunk mind, she finds herself with two cups of water in her hands, Tayce with the same, leading her back to the hotel room and giggling as she instructs her not to spill a drop. A’Whora laughs, pretending like she’s not struggling to figure out how tightly she should be holding them.

Pretend is easy and she’s always been good at it. Pretending she’s a real rockstar with her Sing Star microphone and Playstation 2 in the living room. Pretending she’s not nervous the day before the biggest audition of her life. Pretending she’s a real musician in a band and not one of four girls shitting themselves backstage at the biggest arenas in the city. Pretending like Tayce might fall for her one day.

Once they get inside - it takes four swipes of A’Whora’s key and brief panic that she’s somehow got the wrong one - it’s clear that Lawrence is done with throwing her guts up and has settled herself in a chair, furiously typing on her phone.

“This room smells like a minibar, you hounds!” Tayce half admonishes, her grin entirely downplaying her words and making A’Whora’s heartbeat jump into overdrive. “Lawrence, what are you doing?”

“Communicating-my-feelings,” She answers through gritted teeth, each word punctuated with a particularly aggressive stab at her screen.

Out of curiosity, A’Whora peeks at the screen, and upon seeing a horrifically large wall of text typed out in the chat box with no end in sight, snatches the phone immediately. “Tayce! Hide it! She’s writing a fucking essay!”

Whether A’Whora’s drunk coordination is better than when she’s sober - hopefully not - or Tayce is just talented, she deftly catches the device and locks it.

Lawrence all but springs up, incensed. “Fuck off with that! Ellie needs to know- I’m fucking pissed!”

“Ellie?” Tayce pauses, looking down as if she’ll still see the message. “As in, makeup artist Ellie?”

“Who fuckin’ else?!” Lawrence lunges and misses.

“Knew it.” She’s adorably smug, so much so that A’Whora decides against telling her that literally everyone knows. Her perceived victory makes her face light up and she’s already so beautiful that ruining childlike glee like that should be considered blasphemous. It would be a sin to wipe that smile from her face using anything other than her lips.

She holds the phone up in the air above her head, unreachable. “Right. Well, Lawrence, you can have this back after you’ve drank this water here, brushed your teeth and got into bed, okay? I think that’s a fair deal.”

“Get fucked,” Lawrence responds, totally deadpan as she snatches the plastic cup, spilling half of it down her front and not noticing. “I will drink your magic water and then you will fuck off and I will tell Ellie that she’s a slimey wee bitch.”

Tayce laughs, unfazed. “On second thoughts, darling…” She tucks the phone into her bra and gives a little flourish. “Sort yourself out and I’ll get it back to you in the morning. I’m not having you abusing our lovely Ellie ‘cause you’ve had a lover’s tiff.”

Lawrence squints. “Fuckin’… A’Whora will get it for me. I’m sure you won’t mind feeling her up, eh hen? Though I bet your girlfriend might have something to say about it. OOP!”

A’Whora feels her face flushing, and the panic slams into her like a wave hitting the beach full force, washing over everything. At first she was glad Lawrence was drunker than her, hoping to make less of a fool of herself in front of Tayce and direct the attention onto their favourite Scottish menace, but Lawrence being drunker means Lawrence with an even looser tongue, and for someone who loves to crack a joke and make a cheeky observation at the most inopportune moment, A’Whora finds herself wishing she’s passed out snoring instead. Tayce just laughs and manages to mother hen her into the bathroom, where A’Whora spots her in the mirror, grumpily brushing her teeth like a petulant toddler in the midst of a tantrum.

“Tell you what, I could never have kids, this is bloody exhausting!” Tayce explains, her big bright smile distracting A’Whora, thankfully, from the bulge of Lawrence’s phone. At least, it’s easier to pretend, even mentally, that that’s why she keeps looking at her chest.

“God, I know!” She laughs back, faking it harder than ever and sipping her cup of water. She feels sobered up already, though she’s sure she’s probably not, all too aware of her red cheeks and Lawrence’s loose tongue and terrified something else will be said.

“I mean, what on earth was that? I don’t have a girlfriend, I can tell you that.” She chuckles as if the idea’s ridiculous. A’Whora wonders if she genuinely thinks that, if she doesn’t realise just how many beautiful men and women would fall down at her feet if she so much as paid them a glance.

Lawrence stumbles out; in the two minutes she’s been gone, she seems to have forgotten entirely about her phone, and she looks at the pair with lidded eyes. “Fuckin’ shattered, girls.”

Tayce beams at her. “Get your arse in bed, then!”

A’Whora finishes her water, and Lawrence is asleep in seconds. For good measure, they poke her a couple of times, but since she’s very clearly breathing and seems fine, they decide to stop tormenting her and to just let the poor girl sleep. Tayce sets down Lawrence’s phone on the nightstand next to her, making sure to plug in her charger so it won’t be dead when she wakes up, and the tiny act of thoughtfulness makes A’Whora’s heart swell in a manner she’s wholly embarrassed of.

As if she’s swooning at a girl charging her friend’s phone? It’s ridiculous and she knows it.

“Shall I walk you to your door?” She offers, holding her arm out. Tayce laughs and takes hold of her elbow, waggling her eyebrows suggestively.

“Ooh, promenade!”

“You’ve been watching far too much Bridgerton, you have,” A’Whora teases her, jabbing her side as they make their way back down the empty corridor. “Do I have to start calling you My Lady or something, babes?”

Tayce swats her away. “In bed, maybe. Oh, I’ll happily be a Duke or a Duchess, I mean have you seen the pair of them? Bloody gorgeous!”

A’Whora’s chest seizes up at the casual mention of being in bed together. Is the stalemate over? Is Tayce about to explain why she’s suddenly frozen on her and decided she no longer wants to hook up? What the hell even is the reason if there’s no girlfriend? She’s just gone off A’Whora now?

“Oh my God. Tayce, I can’t do this.”

It’s out there. She can’t go back now, can’t reel it back in. She’s fucked.

Tayce stops mid-hallway and frowns, worried. “You alright? If you don’t feel well you can go back, you don’t have to walk me to my room.”

“No, not that,” A’Whora massages her temples, trying to encourage some kind of eloquent thought to help her out, trying to stimulate the part of her brain that writes lyrics, to no avail. “This, us, the weirdness, I can’t do it. I have to know what’s going on, I’m literally going spare over it.”

“I don’t- I don’t get what you mean.”

“Us!” A’Whora cries, then shushes herself, acutely aware of her volume and the people sleeping adjacent to their conversation. “You- you don’t text me the same, and we haven’t- in ages, and I just… Tayce, do you like me?”

Tayce frowns even deeper. “Of course I like you, Rory.”

“Do you proper like me? Do you like me like I like you?”

She feels like a child, enacting a schoolgirl crush with a scribbled note that asks them to tick a yes or no box drawn in pink felt tip, the kind fuzzy from little fingers pressing too hard. If anything, it’s worse than that; at least some prior planning went into those, and a clear question with a yes or no response indicating some kind of confidence. A’Whora has no idea what she’s doing, where she’s going, anything.

“Rory… do you-”

A’Whora cuts her off. “Lawrence thought you might have a girlfriend because I thought you might have one because I was ranting about us to her and how shit I feel that you’ve lost interest in me. We got drunk to ignore how shit we both feel and it didn’t work because she almost blabbed to Ells and now I’m here blabbing to you but I literally can’t help myself. I never can when I’m with you.”

It’s only when she’s finished that she realises Tayce’s expression is full of fear, and her heart sinks like a lead balloon.

“You told Lawrence about us?”

She swallows, guilt seeping in like cracks in a dam. “Tayce, I… We’re not the big secret you think we are. A lot of people know, or suspect. Is… Is that the issue?”

Tayce chews her lip, eyebrows furrowed. Every millisecond that she doesn’t speak is agony, each second another stab to A’Whora’s heart, tiny needles of time cutting into her as she waits and waits for the ugly truth. This is it, now, the swirling nausea in her stomach tells her, this is when it all ends. This is where you scare off the love of your life.

The… what? The fucking what? The who of her what?

Too late now.

“I haven’t lost interest in you. I don’t think that’s even possible. I’m like, obsessed with you.”

A’Whora freezes, expecting virtually anything but that. “You- what? But- huh?”

“Yeah!” Tayce laughs nervously, unsure of how to react - they have that in common, at least. “I mean, girl, look at you, you’re gorgeous. I was getting freaked out by how much I, like, feel, so I just shut everything down and denied it all. I mean, I figured if I was freaking myself out, you must think I’m a right old weirdo. Have I got this all wrong?”

The ice melts. A’Whora can feel the shards shrinking, the wounds closing up, the warmth returning to her in a blossoming not unlike the flowers of spring, freshening the air and sweeping away her anxieties.

“I’ve never been so happy to call you an idiot in my life,” A’Whora tells her.

Tayce cocks an eyebrow. “You dirty liar, you love calling me an idiot,” She bites back, not leaving room for A’Whora to reply before kissing her right then and there, in the middle of a hotel corridor, leaning up against the wall for support. A million chemical reactions spark off all at once, a frenzy of activity rendering her incapable of doing anything but wrapping her arms around her bandmate, her best friend, her everything, and kissing her until she can’t breathe.

When they have to come up for air they do, all gasping and pink cheeks and dazed eyes. Every cell, every nerve, every neuron in A’Whora’s body is awake and alive, drawn towards Tayce like a magnetic pull. She can’t ignore it, and can’t think why she’d ever want to.

-

“Will you fucking stay still?”

“I haven’t moved an inch, hen, your shaky hands are not my problem.”

Ellie huffs, big pink earrings dangling from her ears swinging as she moves her head. They’re shaped like hearts, the word ‘doll’ in cursive across the middle in sparkling letters, and it’s adorably Ellie Diamond in every way possible. Even irritated, she’s oddly cute.

“Lawrence! I’m not trying to make you look ugly, stay still for me!” She pleads.

A’Whora watches from her chair, face already expertly done. She woke up pleasantly early, nestled happily in Tayce’s arms after everything. They’d decided to go back to A’Whora’s room, just in case Lawrence woke up and tried to send reams of abuse to Ellie, and ended up laying together cuddling until they fell asleep. No matter how sober A’Whora swore she was, Tayce just giggled and told her there was no chance of anything more than a cwtch, at least until the morning.

Thankfully, they’d kept Lawrence’s phone away from her, but there was nothing she could do but watch helplessly as Ellie and Lawrence engaged in a battle of attrition while doing makeup.

Lawrence rolls her eyes so hard A’Whora can practically feel it from across the room. “Not to worry hen, there’s more than one girl in the band, I’m sure you’ve got options on who can look pretty and who can’t.”

A’Whora winces at the low blow, and judging by Ellie’s expression, all pouty lips and big sad eyes, she’s hurt. More than anything, she wants to rush in and fix things for them, help them do the big talk and work it all out, but she knows it’s not really her business. They have to do this for themselves, so she sits quiet and prays that they will.

“Oh my god.” Ellie sets down her brushes and stares Lawrence in the face, awfully bold and completely unexpected. “Are you gonna hang this over me forever? I just - didn’t want you to think I was too forward! I’ve been regretting it all night, I regretted it as soon as I even said it! I can’t stand you being upset with me.”

Lawrence’s expression softens. “What?”

“You’re, like, the best person ever. I look up to you so much, I don’t think I could admire anyone more than I admire you. I really didn’t mean to upset you, I didn’t want to come on too strong.”

There’s a pause - A’Whora holds her breath, and notices that just across from her, Bimini is suddenly paying attention, her phone long since abandoned in her hand as she gapes at the two of them, dumbfounded.

Lawrence throws her arms around Ellie, squeezing her in an embrace that seems too tender to be looking at, the next best thing to a kiss when in the middle of painting someone’s face. Ellie squeezes back, her lips mouthing words that the other girls can neither hear nor try to. This is for them and them alone.

Tayce enters just as they break apart, throwing herself into the seat next to A’Whora and grinning. “Hiya, gorge, what’d I miss?”

She leans over and kisses A’Whora’s cheek.

Bimini’s eyes pop open. “You and- and then her and- what the fuck? Babes, I think we skipped a few chapters!”

“You just haven’t read the book,” A’Whora winks at her.

“Right, right,” Bims nods understandingly, ever one to just go with the flow. “And is the big lesbian orgy before the concert or after?”

[raiseyourcups]

Just close your eyes

Pairing: Din Djarin x Reader

Warnings: violence, blood, angst, ambiguous ending (sorry about that one)

Word Count: 1.7k (I actually can write something under 2k, amazing!)

You knew teaming up with a Mandalorian was a bad idea. You knew coming back to Nevarro after he broke Guild Code was an even worse idea. You just didn’t think it would lead to you bleeding out on the dirty floor of the Nevarro cantina. Even if you didn’t die from the blood loss, you could practically feel all of the bacteria pushing its way into your wound. No amount of bacta would help you now. Not when you could feel the blood pooling in your mouth. Not when you weren’t the one who needed to stay alive. 

You were just a mechanic. Hired on (and rarely paid) to keep the Razor Crest as space worthy as possible while the Mandalorian tried to keep the Child safe. The fact that you were more than a little decent with a blaster was just an added bonus in the Mandalorian’s eyes. The time you had spent on the Razor Crest was interesting to say the least. And although you had never acted on it, you had grown to like the Mandalorian more than you should have. 

So when the IG-11 showed up with the Child and the Mandalorian made to go outside, you went with him along with Karga leaving Cara to cover you all with her repeating blaster. 

Everything was going as fine as it could, you had only been grazed by a trooper’s blaster once which surprised you. You had no idea they could actually hit a target, let alone a moving one. IG-11 was slowly moving towards your small group when a storm trooper managed to hit it in one of its legs. You watched as it went to its knees, still protecting the Child from the blaster fire. 

The Mandalorian glanced at the E-Web blaster that wasn’t being used by anybody, probably because the two of you were too close for any troopers to get close to it. “Use it!” You shouted to him as you shot another trooper coming from behind the two of you. The Mandalorian listened to you and picked up the E-Web, picking off stormtroopers like they were nothing. 

But then an explosion sounded from the cantina and you spun around, the sound of Cara’s blaster no longer filling the air. Your gaze met the Mandalorian’s t-visor, wondering if he was feeling even half of the panic you were. With new fervor, you spun around and started shooting the stormtroopers again and the Mandalorian followed your lead. Everything was going better than when you were trapped in the cantina, counting down the minutes to your death, you even somehow heard Cara’s repeat blaster again over the sounds of chaos. 

Of course that was when everything went wrong. Neither of you saw Moff Gideon move into line of sight and aim a well-placed shot at the Mandalorian. He let out a surprised shout of pain and you went to shoot Moff Gideon but he had already aimed another shot. This one at the box of ammunition right beside you two. The explosion sent the box of you in the air and onto the ground. You let out a pained groan, ears ringing from both the explosion and the hit. Your leg hurt, felt like it was on fire but you forced yourself up. It didn’t take long for you to regret it but by then Greef was laying cover fire and Cara had run out to lift up the Mandalorian who seemed to be knocked out. You couldn’t blame him, your own head hurt and he had a beskar helmet on which meant his own head probably got hit twice as hard. 

You stumbled after Cara, trying to make yourself as small a target as possible while Greef and IG-11 kept up the cover fire. Once you were all back into the cantina, with the door shut behind you, that was when you knew you were fucked. Cara propped the Mandalorian up against something that had been knocked over and you couldn’t do anything but watch as you pressed a hand against your side. You could hear Greef asking IG-11 something and Cara telling the Mandalorian that he would be okay but it all sounded far away. 

“I’m not gonna make it. You need to go,” the Mandalorian said. Funny how that sounded crystal clear to your ears but everything else was like trying to listen while underwater. You were starting to sway on your feet and your head felt like it was going to explode. But still you kept standing. 

“You just got your bell rung, you’re gonna be fine,” Cara said as she pulled her hand out from behind the Mandalorian’s helmet and stared in shock as she saw how much blood there was. That was when your knees finally gave out from under you. 

“Oh shit.” Cara breathed out, she hadn’t even thought of your injuries because you had gotten back up. She moved and grabbed you in order to prop you up beside the Mandalorian, they couldn’t afford to lose the both of you. “You’re both gonna be okay.”

“I need to take this thing off.” Cara moved to take off the Mandalorian’s helmet but he stopped her quicker than a dying man should have been able to.

 “No. Leave me, you make sure the Child is safe. Here.” He reached up to rip a cord off of his neck and placed a pendant in Cara’s hand. “You take the Child to the Mandalorian covert and you tell them...tell them it’s from Din Djarin. You tell them the foundling was in my protection and they’ll help you.” 

“Stop talking like you’re gonna die,” you managed to say, eyes feeling heavier by the second. Cara leaned over to check your own head for wounds and let out another curse when her hand came back covered in even more blood. “You’re gonna be fi,fine.”

“You take Y/N with you, there should be supplies of bacta.” The Mandalorian said, the voice behind the vocoder leaving no room for argument. 

“No, ‘m not gonna leave you here alone.” The blood loss was making your inhibitions lower than normal. Normally you wouldn’t be so petulant with him but you supposed that’s what dying does to a person. 

“Cara, you take her and the Child, leave me.”

“How about I take the Child and the both of you?”

“You can’t take both of us and you know it.”

You opened your mouth to say something but then there was a burst of flame that came through the window. Cara draped herself across the both of you and waited for it to be over. Once it was, you let out a cough and grimaced at the taste of rust. That probably wasn’t a good thing. 

“You take the Child and Y/N. I can hold them off long enough for you to get out. Let me have a warrior’s death.”

“Stop being a sh,shit and let Cara he,help you,” you said before coughing again, this time leaving blood on your lips. That was gross. You swallowed without meaning to and winced as you tasted the blood go down. 

“No, Y/N, you’re going to make it.”

There was another burst of flame followed by the flametrooper walking into the cantina. Now you knew you were all fucked, bleeding out or no. You almost missed the Child standing in front of you all, but it was hard to miss the way the next blast of fire didn’t move closer to you, hitting an invisible barrier. The Child threw his little hands out and the fire blasted the flametrooper out of the cantina and the Child fell back, tired now that he had expended his energy. IG-11 finally kicked out the grate that would lead to the sewer system and the Mandalorian covert.

“Go, go now. Take Y/N and go.” The Mandalorian said as IG-11 walked over and picked up the knocked out Child. 

“I’m not going anywhere, I’m as fucked as you and you know it,” you breathed out, your lungs not expanding as much as they should be. The smoke in the air wasn’t helping nor was the fire that threatened to spread towards you. You found that you weren’t scared of dying anymore, not if it was beside someone you cared about. IG-11 came over and handed the Child to Cara.

“Watch and protect this Child, I will stay with the Mandalorian and the mechanic.”

Cara hesitated for a moment before picking up her rifle and coming up to IG-11. “Promise me you’ll bring them both.” She hadn’t known you for very long but she could tell the Mandalorian cared for you. Enough that he was willing to stay behind if it meant Cara would be able to carry you out of there. 

“You have my word.” IG-11 replied. Cara gave them both one more glance before she headed for the now open grate. You watched silently as IG-11 came over and kneeled down before you both. 

“I need to remove your helmet in order to save you,” it said as it reached one hand out to grab the bottom of the Mandalorian’s helmet. Somehow he still had the energy to aim his blaster at the droid to threaten it. 

“No living thing has seen me without my helmet since I swore the Creed. It is forbidden.” The Mandalorian said. It was weird, you knew his name now but couldn’t bring yourself to using it even in your head. Maybe because he hadn’t freely given it to you.

“I am not a living thing.” IG-11 said before continuing his previous attempt to take off the Mandalorian’s helmet. 

“I’ll just close my eyes, won’t even know I’m here,” you said slowly, your eyes fluttering closed before you had even finished talking. Your head slumped down onto his shoulder but you remained mostly conscious of your surroundings. 

“Help her first.” 

“That would be a waste.”

“Help her or I shoot you.”

You were no longer conscious enough to know what was happening around you anymore but you felt a cool mist on your head just as everything went silent. The last thing you thought before you were out for good was that you should have told Din how you felt about him. 

[jess-rewatches-prodigalson]

Exit Strategy (S2, E10)

My time-stamped thoughts for this episode are below. As always I reference Malcolm’s mental health. A lot. So if that’s going to be a trigger for you, don’t keep reading.

SPOILERS AHEAD:

0:40 - Oh it’s Capshaw’s dream. Well. That’s upsetting. 

1:10 - .....she was performing surgery on herself?!!? WTF?

1:37 - The fact that Jessica broke into her adult child’s home to steal Martin memorabilia is hilarious to me. Also deeply upsetting. Because - dysfunctional. 

1:40 - “In my loft? Where I live?” hahahahahahaha sassy!Malcolm for the win! Also - there is something so so cute about the way Tom delivers this line. <3 It’s precious. 

1:46 - “I don’t always wake up screaming.” ....so historically we know this is true. Malcolm didn’t wake up screaming at the beginning of 1x15 when Eve was in his loft....but still... Malcolm’s mental health has been in tatters. I find it highly unlikely that he wouldn’t be waking up screaming. Especially since he was hallucinating last episode!!!!

1:55 - The Never. Ever. Room?!?!?! I’m shook. I’m amused. I’m horrified. I can’t believe that Jessica would let Malcolm keep that stuff in his loft. Why isn’t it locked up in a storage container or something? Jessica let Malcolm - the boy that Martin traumatized - sleep in the same building as all of Martin’s belongings?!?! Nah. Jessica is so overbearing .... I just don’t buy it. 

2:21 - “I am ignoring the Surgeon altogether.” Awww look at how proud Malcolm is to tell Jessica about his serial killer cleanse. He’s like, “I finally have news that will make Mom happy!!” <3 <3 Precious. 

2:36 - “He’s been calling. Non-stop.” annnnnnnd there’s are sad profiler. He’s putting on a good act for Jessica but he’s still clearly in a lot of emotional pain. 

3:15 - Really? The writers have Jessica riding the Brightwell train now? For real? I’m here for it but it feels kind of fast? Forced? Out of left field? I mean Jessica’s totally the type of mom who meddles in her kid’s love life (remember Eve?) but in the middle of the whole Ainsley-Endicott fiasco? Jessica should be more concerned about Malcolm’s mental state and less concerned with his relationship status. 

3:17 - Did Malcolm really just admit (sort of abstractly, but still) that he’s interested in Dani romantically? Doesn’t he realize that Jessica will try to interfere?!? He’s basically given her his blessing!!! 

3:25 - awwwww....the pic of baby!Malcolm and baby!Ainsley is so cute. <3

3:40 - UGH. I want to know more about that key and what it unlocks so badly!!!

3:46 - “Oh great. Detective Mom.” <3 I love it when he calls Jessica “Mom” instead of “Mother”. <3

4:36 - ......Mr.David and Martin have such an interesting dynamic. Martin listens to Mr. David without showing any signs of anger, resentment, or his usual psychopathic manipulation. Mr. David controls Martin much the way a parent controls their well-behaved child. I just find it so fascinating that Martin treats Mr. David with respect. That’s not Martin’s usual reaction when things don’t go his way.

5:00 - I’m so happy we keep getting more screen time with Hector. <3 This dude’s great. 

6:05 - soooo the fact that Jessica stabbed Daryl in the neck is probably going to inhibit Daryl’s ability to speak right? Making Daryl a useless source of information regarding the breakout?

6:24 - I love everything about this scene with Gil’s new car. I love that Malcolm’s “wow, the Coronet’s looking good.” is said with this little smile. As though Malcolm doesn’t really care about the car, but he knows mentioning it will make Gil happy. I love Gil’s rant about “No more Whitly’s around my car.” and Gil’s glare when JT asks about Tarmel’s around the car. I love Dani’s “boys and toys” line. UGh. It was just the little dose of found family that I craved. <3 BUT I do have one small complaint/concern. Gil. He said, “No more Whitly’s around my car.” Whitly’s. Why did he refer to Malcolm as a Whitly? 

6:54 - “Some major Japan-y vibes.”.....I’m sorry the word you’re looking for is “Japanese”?!?! Anyone else get super distracted by this line?!? 

7:56 - “Old people” HA. OMG. I love this so much. <3 <3

9:11 - As someone with severe social and general anxiety that has at times bordered on a form agoraphobia - Dani’s dismissive tone when she says “he’s afraid to leave the house.” hurts. Especially since it feels really out of character for Dani. She doesn’t usually dismiss people so quickly. Maybe there’s a story there? She had an agoraphobic family member? 

10:14 - “NYPD. Adjacent.” Why isn’t Malcolm a member of the NYPD yet? He trained with the FBI. He’s clearly capable of being employed as a detective for the NYPD. Is it because he doesn’t want to carry a gun? Is it because Gil doesn’t want Malcolm to carry a gun? Is it bureaucracy (probably)?

10:44 - Malcolm explaining why the antique pistol won’t fire is adorable. 

10:57 - This dude hasn’t left the house since March of 1997. Martin was arrested in 1998. Is this supposed to have some sort of double meaning? Like maybe Malcolm discovered that Martin was killing people in 1997 but the chloroform confused him for a while and he didn’t call the cops until 98′? Is this supposed to be a metaphor for the fact that Malcolm hasn’t been truly alive since 1997? He’s just been in survival mode - he hasn’t been living.

11:22 - “I’m not too good around people.” This dude is Malcolm. Malcolm lives in a state of constant fear and anxiety. Malcolm isn’t so good with relationships or casual human interactions. 

11:30 - It makes perfect sense to me that Dani is the detective that Malcolm brings in to talk to Gerald. Forget the Brightwell agenda. Gerald is a scared old man. JT and Gil are authoritative men (they’re teddy bears but they can also be scary). Dani is a woman. Women are typically seen as less of a threat. Though Dani could totally kick just about anyone’s ass. But it makes sense to me that a scared witness would feel more comfortable around the smaller female detective than the large male ones. 

12:03 - Ugh. I feel so bad for Gerald. The dude is clearly experiencing some sensory overload on top of his anxiety. :( 

12:15 - hahahaha the absolute best part of this little Brightwell moment is Gerald’s reaction. This old man just connected the dots and you can see it ALL over his face.  ....but also, it’s a really cute moment. <3

12:38 - “Too late if you ask me.” Is it just me or does Gerald seem protective of Rosalie here? Almost paternal? 

13:03 - “You still think like a grand master” Is this supposed to be an illusion to the way that Malcolm thinks about cases? He thinks like the killer in order to solve the case?

13:13 - WHY DOES MALCOLM KNOW SO MUCH ABOUT A CHESS LEGEND FROM THE 70s and 80s?!? Did baby!Malcolm have a chess phase? I want details.

13:22 - I love Gerald. He’s such a cute little old man. He’s scared but you can tell that he has a good heart and that he’s extremely smart. Look at how impressed he is with Malcolm. <3 He’s a lot like Malcolm. 

13:27 -”Memory was always my gift.” Memory is Gerald’s gift but it’s been Malcolm’s curse.

15:04 - Malcolm is so close to snapping. Look at this poor boy. He’s at the end of his rope. :( 

15:14 - “Looks like you got some sleep.” Awwww proud!Gil <3 

15:40 - “Agoraphobia often comes from trauma.” Yep. Malcolm identifies with Gerald. I wonder if Malcolm ever went through a period of agoraphobia? Maybe as a teen? 

15:48 - .....is this foreshadowing? When the truth about Endicott comes out is Malcolm going to be deemed an ‘unreliable witness’? Or maybe that’s how Ainsley is going to try and pin the murder on Malcolm?

15:58 - annnnnd we finally got a good shot of concerned!Gil. There’s no way that Gil isn’t reading between the lines here. He knows Malcolm identifies with Gerald and he knows Malcolm is having issues with his mental health, identity, and self-worth. SOMEONE CONFRONT HIM. WHERE IS THE MALCOLM INTERVENTION?!!?

16:20 - “Are you alright? Don’t answer that.”.....because Martin doesn’t actually care about Malcolm’s mental or physical health. Martin is a narcissist who has a story to tell. 

16:27 - “No. Me first.” I’m. So. Proud. Of. Malcolm. <3 <3 

16:56 - “That felt good.” :) Awwww... <3 I’m proud of Malcolm for this but Martin is totally going to hold it against him in later episodes. It’s going to fuel some sort of anger. Just wait for it. 

17:05 - Again. Mr. David acts like Martin’s dad. If Martin were 8 years old. 

17:40 - Chrisitan Brole is a treasure. His acting is incredible. Friar Pete is creepy, likeable, funny, and terrifying. Honestly. Give him an Emmy. 

20:00 - “*sigh* kid.” This breaks my heart. You can see Gil’s doubt and concern all over his face. He’s doubting Malcolm’s ability to make an accurate profile of Gerald because he knows how much Malcolm identifies and sympathizes with Gerald. He’s concerned about Malcolm because....I mean have you seen him lately? The boy is spiralling and it hurts to watch. But Gil is scared for Malcolm right now. Gil is now worried that the cases aren’t enough to distract Malcolm. That Malcolm can’t work on cases anymore. That Malcolm’s mental health has compromised his ability to work effectively. 

20:50 - “We’re friends. Partners” Listen to the longing in Malcolm’s voice when he says “partners”. He wants to be romantic partners with Dani - not just work partners. It’s obvious. This boy is an open book when it comes to how he feels about Dani. 

21:08 - “And she never will.” there is something about the way Tom delivers this line. How he sort of trips over the words. I can’t tell if it’s intentional or not but it works. It somehow makes it more raw and emotional. Malcolm wants so so badly to tell Dani how he feels but he’s convinced that he’s a monster. That she deserves someone more stable than him. Someone with less trauma. Malcolm is convinced that he’s not safe for anyone to love. Malcolm is convinced he’s going to snap and become Martin. 

21:17 - “Sounds lonely.” I love the way Malcolm immediately dismisses this as ‘tactical empathy’. Malcolm has accepted that he will be alone forever. He’s convinced himself he deserves it. I’m willing to bet that Malcolm rarely (if ever) actually feels lonely. Between coping mechanisms, hallucinations, and trauma - I doubt his mind is ever quiet enough for him to notice loneliness. 

21:27 - “You’ve spent your life mastering a game. I’ve spent mine mastering how people think.” .....ok but chess is basically about predicting your opponents moves and then Gerald graduated to people watching soooooo they’re really not that different. 

22:06 - I love this. I love how Malcolm turns on Gerald only for Gerald to emphatically explain how he lives through that window. Because - isn’t Malcolm the same? How many people have accused Malcolm of being a murderer when really he’s just a man who only feels alive when he’s solving murders and putting away killers?

22:50 - Rosalie helped Gerald much like Dani helps Malcolm. But Gerald couldn’t help Rosalie because he was trapped in his trauma. .....sooooo what’s going to happen to Dani? Or is this just supposed to be a reference to the fact that Dani can’t trust Malcolm because he’s keeping Endicott a secret and she knows something is up?

22:51 - ummmmm 60bpm??!?!? That’s a borderline athletic resting heart rate for a man in his 50s. There’s no way Martin’s in that great of shape. He’s trapped in his cell most of the day. 

24:28 - oooookkkkkayyyy so maybe Capshaw isn’t as smart as I thought she was. Martin is playing her like a fiddle. Although that dream sequence from the intro did make it seem like she was only interested in Martin because she craved medical power and respect. 

25:22 - Martin didn’t call Jessica his wife to screw with Capshaw. He genuinely still thinks of Jessica as his wife.....this is not good for the future. This tracks with the dreams Martin’s had throughout this season of going back home to his family. 

25:44 - Oh yeah. Jessica knows that woman is into Martin. 

26:41 - “Isn’t it obvious? It’s the key to my heart.” LMAO holy shit. 

26:56 - “I can tell when you’re lying.” “Not historically.”......Martin has a point. 

28:27 - This counts as my “someone confronts Malcolm about his mental health” bingo square for the episode right? 

28:35 - Look at Gil. He knows Malcolm is lying through his teeth and he’s so so tired of it. He looks so sad and annoyed. Gil loves Malcolm so much and he’s clearly concerned about Malcolm but I honestly think Gil just feels helpless right now. Malcolm is spiralling and Gil can’t help because Malcolm won’t open up. 

29:15 - “When she didn’t give up Clayton he killed her. Brave girl.”.....does this mean there’s going to be an attempt on someone’s life this season? Maybe Martin tries to kill Ainsley because she’s going to pin Endicott’s murder on Malcolm? Or Malcolm tries to kill Ainsley because she doesn’t give up Martin’s location? Or Ainsley/Martin try to kill Malcolm because he tries to come clean about everything?

29:26 - “If anyone can get through to this guy it’s you.” THANK YOU. Malcolm really needed that assurance. This dude is so full of negative emotions, self doubt, and pain. Every moment he feels supported, believed in, or loved is immensely treasured. 

30:26 - Oh Capshaw. You dumb dumb dumb woman. Look at Martin’s face. Capshaw has freed a monster. That’s Martin’s “I’m a raging serial killer” expression. 

30:29 - Holy shit. Look at how quickly Martin put the “I’m a harmless doctor” mask. In the span of about 1 second he went from killer to angel. Michael Sheen is incredible. 

31:04 - “You don’t have to be trapped in here.” It breaks my heart to hear Malcolm encourage Gerald to break free from his trauma when Malcolm is still a prisoner to his own. 

31:10 - “This is your next move” “No. It’s not”. THIS. This sums up anxiety disorders. Everyone tells you to ‘move on’ or ‘take a deep breath’. They all tell you that ‘everything will be fine’. They ask you ‘what’s the worst thing that could happen.” The problem: most people with anxiety disorders know the majority of their fears (or at least the severity of them) is irrational. Most people with anxiety disorders have tried therapy, drugs, coping mechanisms, breathing techniques, ect. Anxiety doesn’t go away because you want it to. Telling someone to move on - just makes it worse. Especially someone who has lived with severe anxiety so long that it feels like a crucial part of their personality. I’ve had a severe anxiety disorder for as long as I can remember - I don’t want to heal. I don’t know who I’d be without severe anxiety. I’m scared to find out. 

32:10 - “Family comes first”........soooo is Martin escaping to groom Ainsley for the family business (murder)? For Malcolm (to save him from Ainsley)? To protect Malcolm from a new Surgeon related skeleton (akin to Endicott)? WHY? 

32:33 - ahhhh Papa!Gil. I’ve missed you. 

33:25 - I have this headcannon that baby!Malcolm had pet rats at some point (he’d had snakes so I feel like rats would be in his wheelhouse). One day while Malcolm was at school the rats escaped from their cage and scared the crap out of Jessica. Jessica demands that the rats be removed from the home. That’s it. That’s the scene that plays in my head. 

33:39 -.....Jessica is wearing a ring on her left ring finger. Why? 

34:03 - “Jess it’s good to hear from you but -” They’re dating again now. Right? <3 

34:06 - “What?!” Fear and confusion. That’s the look on Gil’s face. We love to see it. 

 34:25 - “Martin is escaping.” Look at Gil’s face. He’s terrified. He’s staying calm and acting like he’s in control but this dude is terrified that the people he loves most in the world (Jessica and Malcolm) are in serious and immediate danger. 

34:50 - .....last I checked Malcolm was claustrophobic with specific closet-related trauma......

35:40 - “There’s only one play for a pawn.”.....does this mean Malcolm considers himself a pawn in Martin’s game? Disposable. Limited options. Replaceable. Of little worth? :( 

35:57 - “What would you know about it Judas.” Huh. Pete is pissed at Martin. Is it because Pete views Martin’s nasty relationship with Capshaw as a betrayal akin to Judas’ betrayal of Jesus?

36:36 - Jessica using her heels as a weapon is honestly such a mood. hahaha

36:54 - Poor Jessica. The moment she realizes that she’s trapped with a killer who not only hates Martin but also has an hallucinatory friend is haunting. This woman goes from terrified to petrified. But look at her poker face. She’s brave. She tries to talk her way out of it. She tries to think her way out of it. She’s like Malcolm.

37:42 - Jessica firmly telling Daryl not to take another step right before she stabs him in the neck with a high heel is everything. Listen to her terrified screaming. She can’t believe she just stabbed the man (even if it was self-defence). This woman did the impossible while scared to death. She is a badass. She’s my hero. I love her. 

38:12 - “All she had to do was tell me where my brother was. Except they were in love”.....does this mean Ainsley or Martin is going to try and kill Dani?

39:32 - “Don’t you think that’s what Rosalie would’ve wanted for you? This time make the right choice.” Wow. Malcolm is really metaphorically berating himself. What I heard was “Don’t you think Dani would want you to live without fear and guilt? This time - tell her your secret. Come clean. You’ll feel better.”

40:12 - ....so did Dani steal Gil’s keys or did he give them to her? Can we see how mad Gil is about this? Please? .....also the not-so-subtle “Dani is going to be a part of the Whitly family because she hurt Gil’s car” is not lost on me. I’m just more interested in Gil’s reaction to Dani hurting his baby. 

40:21 - “I see why you like her.” hahaha Gerald is all of us. Whether or not you ship Brightwell, you can’t deny that Dani is a badass and a good friend to Malcolm. That’s reason enough for Malcolm to like her - not necessarily in a romantic way. 

40:30 - Where the hell did Daryl go? If Jessica was trapped where did the man with a high heel in his neck go?!!?! 

40:33 - “It’s okay. It’s okay. You’re okay.” <3 <3 The whump whore in me is in love. Forget Gillica. I’ll listen to Gil comforting a traumatized member of the team or Jessica any time, any day. <3 

40:50 - I have so many questions about this escape. Are the guys sticking together? If not - do they know where the other guys plan to go/do? Where will they be getting the post-escape change of clothes (you know the ones that aren’t property of Claremont)? 

40:55 - I’ll be honest, I’m shocked. They’ve been teasing Martin’s escape all season but I really thought he wasn’t going to escape until the finale. Now I’m so excited for the finale. If it’s not a Martin-Ainsley-Malcolm showdown or a Gil-Martin showdown I’m going to be sad. 

41:13. - Martin and Gerald both just took their first breath of fresh air as ‘free’ men after 23-24 years. The symmetry of this episode’s two main plot lines is more obvious than usual. 

41:44 - Look at Gerald being Malcolm’s wingman. hahaha it’s so cute. He’s self-appointed himself as Malcolm’s grandpa and I’m here for it. 

41:51 - REALLY MALCOLM?!!? YOU CHOOSE TO LISTEN TO A VOICEMAIL FROM THE SURGEON NOW?!?! #MORON

42:29 - Martin’s entire message for Malcolm is haunting. Even now, he’s trying to manipulate Malcolm. “I’m not the man I used to be”. I’ll promise you right now - Martin will be killing at least one person in the next 3 episodes. He’s addicted to killing. End of story. 

“I’m doing this for you” ....Is Martin going after Ainsley? I’m genuinely concerned that Martin thinks Ainsley is going to try and kill Malcolm or pin the Endicott murder on Malcolm. I think Martin caught wind of it and is planning on ‘taking care of the problem’ (Ainsley). 

42:35 - Look at Dani. She’s terrified. For Malcolm. For Gil. For New York. For herself. She knows how bad this is and she’s scared. 

42:44 - “You fath-. The Surgeon.” THIS. Dani realized that Malcolm doesn’t need to be reminded that his father is a serial killer. Dani realized that family is more than blood. The Surgeon escaped. Malcolm is in danger. But Malcolm’s father didn’t escape. Malcolm’s father has been dead since 1997/1998 when Malcolm found out he was a serial killer. 

42:55 - Malcolm. :( Look at our baby. :( He’s done. Absolute horror and terror. He looks like he’s going into shock. I honestly thought (*cough* hoped *cough*) he was going to pass out. THIS is what’s going to remove Malcolm as a suspect for ‘aiding/knowing that Martin was planning on escaping’. Same with Jessica. Ainsley doesn’t have a terror driven alibi though. At least - not that we’ve seen. 

AHHHHHHHH this was such an intense episode. I can’t wait for Tuesday. <3

If Malcolm doesn’t have a full on mental breakdown soon I’m going to have a stress-induced breakdown for him. Seriously. 

 Thanks for hanging out. 

[teamsarawatshusband]

Word Of Honor - 1st watch insta thoughts - Episode 7

Here's my name overview, in case you're new to this: Zhou Zi Shu = Baby Zi Shu/ Zhou Xu lord guy/alcoholic tanned tragic hero lord guy; Wen Ke Xing = Smirky Xing/Smirky fan guy/Kissy Xing Gu Xiang = Purple Girl/my Purple Love/my Purple Queen Smirklord is my personal ship name for Zhou Zi Shu and Wen Ke Xing.

Also, here are the previous episodes.

Before we get started, just FYI, I went back to have a look at the red masked ghost guys gang scene with nuts guy in episode 1, and it’s finally confirmed that it's 100% Kissy Xing, because, now that i've been hearing his laughter for some eps, I can't not recognize it. Actually, he’s not just part of the ghost gang, he’s their boss. :O

Okay, so that is settled.

Let’s move on to episode 7:

Luo Mansion. What is that? Where is that? Who are these people? There's one with a joker grin, and several with weirdly upturned eyebrows and darkened lips. Are they from the ghost gang?

And why is everything red, is this a wedding?

There's a white haired woman with long golden fingernails and she's referred to as tragicomic ghost.

Oh it IS a wedding. Something tells me this might not be a voluntary one... Maybe it's the amount of gagged people in cages who don't look joyful.

Is the gagged guy who's gonna get married unconscious magenta leader guy from when that other ghost lady dropped her face?

He's getting married to a memorial tablet? What?

Ah, back to more familiar people in familiar circumstances. Baby Zi Shu is drinking alcohol. Now this I recognize.

But he can't get more because somebody bought all the remaining bottles. Should I say that this has Kissy Xing written all over it?

Ooooh, the kid is there!!! With a-hole-uncle Shen and uncle Zhao. And the kid notices Baby Zi Shu right away, and thinks it's his master. He's better at recognizing people than I am, but he's mislead by Baby Zi Shu's lack of tan and scar. That's a shame. But he clearly misses his daaaaads! Awwwww.

Side note: I cannot stress enough how much I need to focus on not misspelling Baby Zi Shu’s name. I’ve typed Zi Shi, Zu Shi, Zu Shu, Zhu Si, Zhi Shu already... and now I almost typed “Baby Sushi”, because my brain is WEIRD. In case it happens in the future and I miss it, you have been warned. Maybe I should just go with Baby Sushi, because that one would be easiest to remember. I should also change my tumblr handle to “face-blind-and-name-stupid”.

Meh, back to the ghost gang wedding ceremony.

Whoever speaks dies. That would have been a good rule to know in advance, I guess.

So what's this list of the unfaithful? Is it like Santa's naughty and nice list?

Everybody who is unfaithful gets killed by white haired gold finger girl. Got it. Everybody who speaks gets killed too. This seems like such a shady set of rules, I bet more people get killed just for fun.

Ooooh, it's celebrity death match. But with friends of the groom.

I feel like this guy who says that the ghost folks never break a promise, while being a jerk, might be telling the truth.

:O WTH? Did a-hole-uncle Shen just seriously call our kid useless??? He just assumes that our kid is a liar??? The audacity!!! I feel so outraged on the entire fandom’s behalf.

Huh, the kid is eavesdropping on all of it. I feel so bad for him to having to hear this, but at the same time, I feel so proud of his spying nature. He's already picked up some of his adopted dads' talents.

Back to the wedding deathmatch. A red wedding indeed. Everybody's dead.

Two guys talking at Youyang sect, alright, whoever that is, I forgot. But, they have nice dragon decor. Ah the younger guy is the leader of Window of Heaven while the older guy with the mustache is the 5 lakes final boss. Top boss, I mean. I might be playing too many computer games, sorry. Anyway, so Youyang is 5 lakes, also confirmed by the pleated skirt soldiers around. K, k.

So, pretty heaven's window leader guy wants to get the scoop on the glazed armor situation.

Whoa, did mustache final boss guy just really say glazed armor is just a rumor? Does he think people are stupid? Even I know that it's not. Tsk. He makes Window of Heaven sound like a super power spy agency.

Everybody is after our poor kid. Ooooooooh, Baby Sushi is following the uncles plus kid through the bamboo woods. Nice. He won't let the kid get harmed, I'm sure.

There's a girl kid who looks kind of like TopTap (if you're familiar with Thai TV shows).

She seems nice, but... looks like they're just trying to get our kid out of the way to discuss stuff. Pfff, they always complain about him not knowing stuff, but how is he supposed to when he's constantly left out?

"The martial arts world won't be peaceful anymore" LOL, whut? It hasn't been peaceful from the start of the series. What is 5 lakes final boss guy even trying to say?

:O what? Baby Sushi wants to genuinely leave the kid there and thinks he's safe there?

Oh, he's onto the spy situation and Window of Heaven being involved. Cool, cool.

Aaaaand spontaneously kills a spy guy, k.

Wheeeeeeee Kissy Xing is back. Has also been following around. Nice nice.

Ah, the dead guy was from the scorpion gang. And both Baby Sushi and Kissy Xing know. Oh, so Window of Heaven is an assassin organization. Alright, the more you know. Okay!

He's so daring, talking about how everybody is after the glazed armor while wearing a piece of it openly over his clothes. And he keeps hinting at how much he knows about Baby Sushi but never outright says it.

It's always the same with those two. Kissy Xing points out how good a person he is and then flirts with Baby Sushi who then gives him the cold shoulder.

LOL, I love how the subtitles really translate EVERYTHING. A random note of Tofu Pudding, not plot relevant at all, but BAM in your FACE!

(joking aside: I am so grateful for all the subs and translations. Whoever is doing this stuff, you guys will always be my heroes. <3 )

Oh, somebody looked at them, and Baby Sushi recognized him? And Kissy Xing is like a marching band, stomping onto the scene, parading around with banners that say "Look at this glazed armor!" lol.

Ooooooh, Kissy Xing is in cahoots with the merchant lady. He's planned something. This is exciting. Seems like he's trying to set all parties up against each other: 5 lakes, scorpions, window of heaven and whoever else wants to participate.

Okay, so he let that spy guy steal his piece of glass on purpose, right? And it must be one of the fakes, I assume.

Oh, the heroes conference... I remember the name, but what was that again? Was it a 5 lakes thing? Anyway, Baby Sushi and Kissy Xing are gonna be there on uncle Zhao's invitation, alright.

See, when Kissy Xing calls the kid dumb, it kinda doesn't feel offensive to me. I don't know. It just doesn't. It's like somebody affectionately calling their pet dumb or something.

Waaah, there's another beautiful tree. Please don't burn it down this time.

There's some morse code thing going on with lots of people that I don't know. Everybody's drumming on stuff and passing along messages.

:O my Purple Queen. The love of my life. There she is. ahhhhhhhh. <3

She's also drumming on stuff, but I'm not sure it's code with her, might also just be frustration, lol.

There's a bunch of drunk guys and they're requesting the traditional DJ guy to put on some song that probably has explicit content or something, because he doesn't wanna play it.

:O they snatched his daughter from DJ guy! Right under the eyes of my Purple Queen. Ooooh, she's gonna clean up that place, lol.

Yup.

Yeah you show them! Heh.

Oh, she's got herself a fanboy. Who is he?

She still keeps drumming away on the dishes with her chopsticks. Hmm, maybe it is a code after all.

LOL, they're having this awkward conversation about double standards for guys and girls, and my Purple Queen is not having it. She is the best.

Not gonna lie, every time the series cuts back to smirklord, I get all excited.

Ok, Baby Sushi places some... nut or whatever on his chopsticks obviously some code, Kissy Xing watches and looks confused. Oh, and he almost gave away that he doesn't understand the code.

LOL, what is happening? Kissy Xing looks so pissed at my Purple Queen making friends with her fanboy.

Seriously, does he have some sort of beef with fanboy guy? LOL, won't even let the poor guy finish his meal. A+ in cockblocking.

Awwwww, and my Queen still gets it. Pinpointing smirklord in one sentence. Baby Sushi brings out Kissy Xing's humanity. And now he looks sad. It must be true.

Ahaha, "I will pay. A Xu, where is your wallet?" Comedic genius.

Oh, what a clever way to bring the subject to the "thief" guy. Man, Kissy Xing is GOOOOOOD at this. And Baby Sushi is so amused that he admits to knowing thief guy too.

My queen doesn't recognize Baby Sushi. Whaaaaat? I would have expected her to feel the sparks. Oh, wait, no, she does get it. Hehe. And Kissy Xing instantly has to praise his crush's appearance and beauty. Everything's alright again in the world.

LOL, the way she goes right in to touch him. No inhibition. No etiquette. And Baby Sushi is so surprised that he lets her, lol.

Ahaha, Kissy Xing has to stop her from touching his baby. Awww

XD, I can't deal with this. He even flat out asks why he's not allowed to touch.

And Baby Sushi replies with a compliment to my Queen and a rebuff for Kissy Xing. It's funny, but I do feel a little bad for Kissy Xing. He did not deserve that.

LOL, waiter guy wins quote of the day, "Can you all pay first? Then you can touch whomever you want, however you want." This episode is gold, man. Also, I'm all for the touching. Yes, touch each other. Go go.

Heh, nice. Baby Sushi threatens that the money is a loan and he'll expect interest. And Kissy Xing does not seem sad about owing him at all but goes and buys even more food. After all, owing Baby Sushi gives him reason to stay in touch, doesn't it?

Aww, why do they always end on smirklord scenes? I want more. :(

Okay, this was a really nice episode. I can't wait to continue.

What I learned: The ghost gang enjoys torturing people. Kissy Xing is definitely nuts guy (well not learned from this episode, but I still learned it). I need the kid to return to his dads because I miss their interaction, as does he. There's a famous  thief wandering around and he stole Kissy Xing's fake Glazed Armor. The Heroes Conference is coming up.

Goals for future epsidoes: still to figure out how Kissy Xing and Baby Sushi know each other, understand the purpose and connections of the ghost gang and why Kissy Xing is part of them. Also, just generally, get to watch more smirklord interactions. ;)

[riversofmars]

May I propose..River and Missy stumbling upon 13 and immediately both go to flirting w her

My lovely anon, I deeply apologise for how long it has taken me to do this. And I have to confess, this is only part one, it has turned out so long that I’m having to post it in two parts! Plus I’m not quite done with the ending and if I hadn’t split it up, it would have been another couple of days lol.

Anyway, I really hope you like this. As promised, probably not what you expected but I got slightly obsessed with the idea of doing a cyberpunk inspired piece so here you are! Read on AO3 or below :)

At The End Of The Universe

The Doctor locked up the TARDIS, just to be safe. At the end of time, one did not want to get stuck or have one’s means of escape stolen. She had often wondered what it actually was like. The very last day of the universe. She had visited once before, watching from Me’s reality bubble. Me had been watching the stars die and she had called it beautiful and the Doctor had found it sad. Me had insisted that it was both and that that wasn’t something the Doctor could ever understand… She had been right. The people around her always seem to know her better than she knew herself.

Now, she certainly couldn’t find any beauty in this place and, yet she was fascinated. This was it, the last straw, where the last people in the universe had gathered. Admittedly, she wasn't actually sure that was entirely true but these people seemed to think they were so who was she to argue? She was too exhausted to argue and at the end of everything, no-one had time to waste on such technicalities. In approximately twelves hours, death was coming for them all and there was nowhere to run.

The Doctor looked around, taking in the atmosphere. It was getting cold, probably because the nearby star was already dying. There was very little natural light now, not that it would have reached the ground through the thick smog anyway. The only light down here was from the garish neon advertisements and signs.

“I bet this has always been an awful place…“ The Doctor started saying but stopped herself. She was alone. There was no-one to talk to on this particular trip. Ryan, Yaz and Graham were still on Earth. They didn’t even know she had made it off Gallifrey in one piece, or that she had ended up in prison shortly after… And after her escape, she had felt no great need to seek them out. Not yet anyway. Her path had lead her here instead. To the end of the universe, with no companions to talk to, no-one to share the experience with. It was probably better that way, this wasn’t a trip she wanted to be sharing with anyone.

She looked around some more and decided, yes, this really must have been an awful place all along. The sort of world where only the rich and powerful flourish and everyone else cowers in the sewers. The sort of place where law and morality would break down in no time at all as the end of days drew near. The sort of place where people would want to see the universe out in delirium. And people around here have already started. They were singing in the streets, shouting, dancing, laughing, some people are crying whether with it was laughter or hysterical fear.

Those that didn’t have a time machine to escape crunch time were each facing up to the inevitable in their own way. They are incredibly brave, the Doctor thought, braver than she had ever been. She would be frantically searching for a way out and try to run away, she couldn’t deny that. She was so tired of running but she just couldn’t stop. She wished she could just stand still and face what was up ahead, head held high, just for once. But it was like a compulsion, she just had to keep going. It was always just one more adventure… maybe the next one will be the one. Maybe that would be the one that would finally give her some answers. Or closure. Or even some sort of happiness or contentment. Something, anything, to satisfy that urge to keep going. Sometimes, she forgot what she was searching for. She had been going for so long now. What purpose did this particular trip serve? By this point it was probably just to make sense of things. Of herself. Her own existence. Her life. The things that had been done to her. And the things that happened because of her. And to try and forget about them.

She could still see it. Every time she closed her eyes, she was right back in the ruins of Gallifrey. She would feel the burning heat from the flames. She would get a burning in her chest from the smoke. Her eyes would be burning from the dust. Gallifrey was burning her from the inside still. Her memories were eating at her, burning all the walls she’d built to protect myself, the structures that held her up and kept her going. She had no idea how to stop this wildfire. Maybe on her next trip, she’d find a way but now, she was here. At the edge of the universe, at the end of everything. This was not the place where she’d find her answers but maybe she could fight fire with fire for a time. Maybe she could gain a reprieve before the flames engulfed her.

She started to make her way down the street. The music was coming from somewhere up ahead. The bass was so deep, the vibrations were making her shake. She could smell alcohol now, the streets were literally drenched in it, this party had been going on for days. It wasn't just alcohol, there were chemicals, drugs, sweat, vomit, sex… At the end of everything, society, morals, inhibitions, right and wrong, disintegrated right before your eyes. There was no need for such human constructs now. Everyone here was going to die in twelve hours, the Doctor could see why they’d rather be enjoying themselves. The biggest, baddest party of the universe. The last party. On the last planet. In the last hours. No-one could charge and judge you now. What better place to drown one’s sorrows, get perspective and forget for a time?

“Alright lovely? Can we interest you in a good time?“ A young man yelled to her from across the street. There was a group of them, young people who still had so much of their life ahead of them, cut tragically short. Under normal circumstances, the Doctor, or anyone else for that matter, would have kept going, but the Doctor stepped closer.

“What’s your poison?“ She asked, eying the selection of drinks and other substances spread out over the hood of a burned out vehicle.

“By this point, does it really matter?“ One of the lads laughed taking a gulp from a half empty bottle of clear liquid.

“Suppose not.“ The Doctor chuckled and picked up a bottle she at least recognised the brand name of and took a swing. The alcohol burnt her throat. It was pure and disgusting but it was just what she needed. “Mind if I take this?“ She gave the bottle a little shake to indicate what she was talking about. Her question got swallowed up in the deafening noise of an explosion barely a block away. Some people probably got bored of waiting for the end. The Doctor took another swing from the bottle as her eyes fell on some colourful tablets. She picked up a couple, red and blue, turned them between her fingers as if they were smarties. “The red pill or the blue pill…“ She looked up to the group laughing to herself a little. “This would be funny and poignant if The Matrix was still a thing at the end of the universe…“

“You’re not even scared, are you.“ One of the boys grinned, clearly impressed, he stumbled a little, struggling to keep himself upright as he leant forward onto the hood of the vehicle.

“Scared of what?“ The Doctor raised her eyebrows without looking at him. She focused on the pills in her hand. What was the worst that could happen? These people weren’t trying to kill themselves, they were trying to have a good time so this was probably perfectly safe… and if it wasn’t?

“You know… the end. And doing drugs with people you’ve never met before.“ He grinned.

“I’m just here to have a good time.“ She shrugged as she threw both tablets into her mouth like candy and washed them down.

“I can show you a good time.“ He reached out to cup her cheek but misjudged the distance, reaching into nothingness. His friends laughed.

“Maybe later.“ The Doctor chuckled with a wink.

“Don’t keep me waiting all night, it’s not long now.“ He retorted trying his best to hide his disappointment.

“Thanks for this.“ She downed the rest of the bottle as the others cheered her finishing it. She placed the empty bottle back on the make shift table and waved goodbye to them. She only vaguely took notice of the sound of breaking glass as the youngsters smashed her empty bottle just because they could.

She followed the sound of the music as she made her way along the crowded streets, people bumped into her, unaware of their surroundings, in a drug induced haze. The Doctor was beginning to feel the effects herself. Her hearts picked up speed, she felt an indescribable rush, as her brain flooded with dopamine. The colours seemed more vivid, her skin tingled, as if she was seeing, experiencing more than ever before. Some remaining rational part of her brain insisted that these feelings weren’t real, that it was an illusion and that she would pay a price when they wore off but for now, she couldn’t care less.

She followed the sound of the music, the bass running trough her as she descended stairs to a make shift nightclub. It really just looked like a massive warehouse but people were dancing and drinking, jerking to the music, partying to their heart’s content. The Doctor steadied herself against the wall, feeling the effects of the drugs, allowing her senses to be flooded. She smiled to herself, her heart felt lighter, as if a burden was being lifted and only the here and now mattered.

“Fancy seeing you here, Professor Song.“ Missy called over the loud music as she swirled a glass of bourbon. Even at the end of the universe, she insisted on some modicum of class as she watched River Song emerging from the flurry of dancing bodies. She felt a tingle in her hand as regenerative energy started oozing out of her fingertips and she balled her fist, forcing the process to a halt, yet again. She wasn’t sure how much longer she would be able to keep it at bay but she intended to have a good time before giving in to inevitable. She pushed her hand into her pocket, hoping River hadn’t noticed as she returned her attention to her.

River wiped her brow, her tank top was sticking to her with sweat but she didn’t care, she was enjoying herself. She recognised Missy immediately, leaning against the counter set up along the side of the massive underground warehouse. She couldn’t help but smirk. Of course, of all the people she could possibly encounter at the end of the universe, it was the Master. Lightheaded and thirsty, her ears ringing with the sheer volume of the music, she made her way over to her.

“Well, this is the biggest party in the known universe.“ River winked at her as she came to a halt next to her and reached behind the makeshift bar. It astounded her that some people had actually gone through the trouble of providing these comforts, wasting what precious time they had left on setting up a bar. The counter top was covered in dirty glasses and half empty bottles, she decided it was safer to go for what was behind the bar instead. She couldn’t really expect anyone to bar tend at this point.

“Without the husband, I see?“ Missy raised her eyebrows.

“We’re not joined at the hip. We are modern like that.“ River retorted retrieving a bottle of whisky.

“Allow me.“ Missy offered her one of the few clean-ish glasses she had been able to find. “We don’t have to behave like animals, Timeladies such as ourselves.“

“I could’t agree more.“ River took the glass offered to her and poured a drink for herself. “So what brings you here?“ She eyed her over the rim of her glass as she took a sip.

“Where else would I go to kick back and soak up the atmosphere?“ Missy smirked as she looked around the makeshift nightclub, illuminated only by strobe lighting and neon.

She neglected to mention the fact that she was dying and wanted to enjoy one last night of chaos in this body. She had grown rather fond of this lady version. The annoying thing was that she didn’t even remember who or what had killed her. It was such a blur. The last thing she remembered was the Doctor wanting her to play a stupid game and for her to save some people, prove that she could be good. And now here she was without the Doctor and dying. He was bound to be responsible. Which was a real shame as she had actually enjoyed spending time with her childhood friend again… all this effort for nothing. All she remembered was lying in the middle of a forrest, her body starting to fizz with generation energy when she had almost believed it wouldn’t happen this time around. It brought her back from the brink of death and she had halted the process, keeping it at bay by sheer force of will. She wasn’t done being Miss just yet. One more adventure…

She pulled herself out of her thoughts and looked back at River. “I mean, just look around. The confusion, the chaos, the imminent death… isn't it exhilarating? You can smell the fear and the desperation on them…“ She grinned as she took a sip. “How about you?“

“I think I just saw my husband for the last time.“ River retorted, keeping her emotions out of her voice. She was determined not to overthink it too much. She had come here to lose herself in the here and now and stop her mind going in endless circles. She took a gulp of her drink, though it didn’t do much to quench her thirst from dancing.

“Is that so? What happened? Did you actually kill him at last fighting over the remote control in domestic bliss?“ Missy raised her eyebrows in amusement. She knew the last time the Doctor had been with his wife was enjoying domestic bliss on Darillium. That had been in the Doctor’s past when she had last been with him but apparently for River, that time had only just come to an end.

“Oh, he’s quite alive as far as I know. Sorry to disappoint.“ River chuckled. “But by some accounts that was the last night we spent together… who knows, we’ll see. Either way, I needed a distraction.“

“You know, I think you and I could have a great time together.“ Missy smirked leaning in closer. What was the harm really? It wasn’t like there would be any witnesses and there was a certain appeal in seducing her arch nemesis’s wife.

“Is that so.“ River took another sip of her drink.

“Absolutely.“ Missy twirled her fingers into River’s curls.

“Two psychopaths, that would not end well.“ River was drunk but not that drunk. Jumping into bed with the Master was a bad idea and she knew it. “Better not…“ She looked around the room and noticed a petite blonde making her way down the stairs into the club. She steadied herself against the wall, clearly intoxicated, but so was everyone else in this place. River instantly liked the look of her and she was probably a far safer bet than Missy. “You have yourself a good night.“ River downed the rest of her drink and placed the glass back on the counter before turning to leave.

“Oh, I see.“ Missy raised her eyebrows following River’s gaze. Most people in this place had turned into mindless junkies with poor body hygiene over the last few days, so the blonde stood out immediately. She was a pretty one too, innocent, soft features, she probably didn’t even know what she was doing here.

“Enjoy the end of the universe, I know I will.“ River shot Missy a grin over her shoulder as she headed straight for the new arrival. “Hello, lovely, looking for something in particular? Or someone?“ She stepped into her path, demanding her attention. The blonde jumped, clearly startled, she looked up at River with big eyes, struggling for a response.

“How original.“ Missy huffed at River and pushed past her, deciding there was no reason why she should just let River have her. “Are you lost, dear? Need someone to show you around?“

“Go away now.“ River gave Missy’s shoulder a shove.

“We could always, you know, share?“ Missy winked at River who rolled her eyes.

“I saw her first.“ River shot back, squabbling with Missy until the blonde finally found her voice.

“Of course, why the fuck not.“ The Doctor started giggling to herself looking in between the two women in front of her. Of course her brain would do this to her. Why not. The woman that betrayed her and the woman she had abandoned. Her brain was so cruel. She thought the drugs were meant to make her feel good, not give shape to her emotional trauma. “I haven’t got time for this…“ She walked past River and Missy who exchanged confused looks.

“Have we met?“ River asked catching up with her.

“That’s a great pick up line.“ Missy huffed sarcastically. “What better thing could you possibly have to do at the end of the universe?“ She stepped into the Doctor’s way, obviously not recognising her.

“I just want to have a good time, not to talk to myself.“ The Doctor snapped over the sound of the music. She looked around, wondering what to do next.

“Talk to yourself?“ River frowned confused. The girl was probably not thinking straight, her pupils were dilated and she was unsteady on her feet.

“That’s what you are, right? Manifestations of my subconscious? Hallucinations? Shitty street corner drugs…“ The Doctor huffed.

“I can assure you, dear, I’m very real.“ River gave it another go but was getting the impression that this might be a lost cause.

“You can’t be real, River, both of you are dead.“ The Doctor shot back in annoyance. Why was she even arguing with her?

“What…“ River felt her stomach lurch, her hearts skipped a beat. How did this woman know her name? A chance encounter at the end of time… how was that possible? And she knew Missy, too? There was only one person, apart from the Master, who would be capable of coming here and who would know her name…

“What is this? A guilt trip?“ The Doctor laughed bitterly. “I’m trying to run away from my bullshit, not confront it.“ She shook her head and made her way behind the bar searching for a bottle of something strong. Missy and River looked at each other and followed slowly. Neither of them wanted to say it but they both thought the same thing. But how was that possible?

“Doctor…“ River said softly stepping closer. It was becoming painfully obvious. It was the only plausible explanation and the random selection of clothes should have been a giveaway. If this was the Doctor, she had to be from their future… far, far into their future. River had never seen this regeneration of her husband - well, wife? And by the look on Missy’s face, neither had she. The thought turned River’s stomach. What had happened to her? For her to turn up here, drunk, high, utterly out of her mind, clearly thinking she was hallucinating. How far into their future was she for both of them to be dead to her?

“Don’t. Don’t even.“ The Doctor laughed and shook her head to herself. “Don’t even say my name like that.“ She confirmed their suspicion as she picked up the bottle of whiskey River had just poured from.

“Doctor, get ourself together.“ Missy said sternly, she wouldn’t admit to it but she was just as unsettled as River appeared to be. What had been fun and games a minute ago, suddenly turned very serious. What was she doing here? When had he - she - regenerated again? The last time she had seen the Doctor he had been perfectly fine then. This Doctor, however, seemed utterly broken.

[cruelangelstheses]

the whirlwind girl

fandom: six of crows rating: T characters: inej, nina words: 2.1k additional tags: modern au with magic, first meetings, sexual harassment, could be read as platonic or romantic description: when a drunk man hits on inej at a bar, a stranger comes to her rescue. a/n: HIIII i wrote this for the @sixofcrowszine which has now been shipped so i can post!!! i don’t have much to say except that this book absolutely enraptured me and i love nina and inej and their interactions with each other so !! girls <3 inspired by that prompt that’s like “you were being hit on at a bar so i pretended to be your partner to get them to go away”

read it on ao3

—

Inej isn’t sure why she’s even here.

She’s never been a fan of clubs or bars or similar establishments, especially not at night—too loud, bursting full with people whose inhibitions are hindered by alcohol. Besides, she’s just finished performing, and while the roar of a crowd cheering for her is much different from a bunch of random drunks, it still counts as being around people, and it drains her just the same. She prefers to spend her evenings curled up with a book or hanging out with a couple of close friends, not out late partying.

The whole reason she even came into the Crow Club in the first place is because she knows someone who works here, a funny and good-natured—if reckless—young man named Jesper, who spends about the same amount of time gambling during his off-hours as he does bartending during his shifts. Unfortunately for Inej, it turns out that Jesper, for once in his life, actually isn’t here tonight, even though he’s always here on Saturday nights. According to the current bartender, a slightly older man that Inej doesn’t recognize, he’s on a date, of all things, with a boy named Wylan. Perhaps she’ll text him about it later and ask how it went.

She’s happy for him, of course, but this also means that she has no business being at the Crow Club, so now she’s sitting awkwardly at the bar with a virgin pina colada in hand. She rarely drinks alcohol; she always needs to feel sharp, like the edge of a fresh blade. She knows she could just pay and leave, but it feels weird; she just got here. Maybe she’ll sit and people-watch for another ten or fifteen minutes, then slip out.

As this thought crosses her mind, Inej watches as a stocky, sweaty-looking man, already clearly inebriated, enters the casino...and immediately plops down onto the empty barstool beside her.

Inej takes a sip of her drink and stares down into the glass, pretending to be incredibly interested in its contents, but it does nothing to stop the man from leaning over and saying, “Saw your performance.” His breath smells of cheap whiskey, and Inej has to stop herself from wrinkling her nose.

“Did you, now?” she says without looking at him. Inej works the same job she’s always worked: she performs with her parents as a small troupe of traveling acrobats. Despite their occupation being somewhat unconventional in this day and age—circuses and such just don’t get as much traction as they used to—they manage fairly well. Besides, Inej lives for the thrill of the high wire.

“I did,” the man replies. Out of the corner of her eye, she can see him grinning like a wild dog. “Impressive, if I do say so myself.”

“Thank you.” Inej drums her fingernails nervously against the glass and takes another sip. She can feel her butterfly knife up against her hip, but using it might get her kicked out of the Crow Club—which wouldn’t be a huge loss, really, except that she’d hardly ever get to see Jesper. She already doesn’t see him very often since she travels so much. Or maybe pulling a knife on a guy wouldn’t make a difference here; it’s far from the nicest place in Ketterdam, and Ketterdam is far from the nicest city in Kerch.

Unexpectedly, the man slings an arm around Inej’s shoulders. “What do you say to showing me a few more tricks, hmm?”

This is why Inej doesn’t like bars.

“Um.” She clears her throat, squirming slightly. “No, thank you. Uh, my parents wouldn’t be pleased.”

The man licks his lips. His eyes gleam with bad intentions. “Who says your parents have to know, huh?”

Before Inej can say or do anything else, a brown-haired whirlwind of a girl she’s never seen before marches up to them and says in Kerch, “Hey! Hands off my girlfriend!”

Inej can feel her face heating up. Either this girl has the wrong person, or she knows exactly what she’s doing.

The man narrows his eyes in confusion and reluctantly pulls his arm away from Inej. The girl, pale and curvaceous with bright green eyes, puts her hands on her hips and shakes her head in disbelief. “Honestly. I leave for five minutes to go to the bathroom and come back to find that someone thinks he can just put his hands all over her. I mean, have some damn respect!” At that, she points an accusatory finger at the man.

Alright. It’s definitely the latter.

“I, uh, didn’t realize she was taken,” he says as he looks the girl up and down. “But hey,” he adds with a sly grin, “the more the merrier, right?”

The girl groans. “Classic,” she mutters under her breath. Putting a hand on the man’s upper arm, she leans in and says, quiet but firm, “We’re not interested.”

The man’s eyelids start to droop. Then, a second later, he passes out face-first onto the counter. A few people turn to look in their direction, and the girl feigns concern, gesturing helplessly to the man. “I think he had too much to drink,” she says, which is probably true, to be fair. One of the bouncers sighs and wanders over to grab him.

Inej watches them in silence. It’s not until the bouncer and the unconscious man are completely out of earshot that she turns to the girl that rescued her and says, not unkindly, “You’re a Heartrender.”

The girl hops up onto the barstool previously inhabited by the drunk man. “That I am,” she says quietly, so as not to be heard by the wrong set of ears. Suddenly she’s speaking in perfect Suli instead of Kerch, perhaps to make Inej more comfortable. “But more importantly, I’m the girl who just saved your ass.” She shrugs. “I thought maybe I could get him to leave you alone without having to use my power, but then he got creepier, so I just kind of said ‘fuck it’ and lowered his heart rate enough to make him pass out.”

Inej laughs a little at that. “I bet that’s useful,” she replies.

“Oh, yeah,” the girl agrees, “but I’m also persecuted for it, so...you win some, you lose some, I guess.” She says it casually, but Inej can hear the bitterness behind it.

Inej isn’t a Grisha, but she is Suli, and she knows well the feeling of persecution. “I understand,” she says softly. “And...thank you.” She could’ve handled it—at least, that’s what she tells herself—but she appreciates the gesture, more than she can properly express.

“It’s nothing,” the girl replies, but the faint pink in her cheeks tells a different story. “I have a lot of experience dealing with men like that. I figured I might as well help you out.” She holds her hands up defensively. “Not that I don’t think you could’ve handled it yourself, but…”

Inej shakes her head in understanding. “No, I get it,” she says. “I’m good with a knife, but I didn’t want to use it unless I felt like I had to.”

The girl’s eyes gleam with interest at that. “Nice. Oh!” she says, looking as though she just remembered something important. “I just realized I never even introduced myself. I’m Nina. You’re Inej, right? Inej Ghafa? I know you from your performances. I’ve seen some videos of you and your family online.”

“Really?” Inej says. For some reason, it still surprises her whenever people tell her that they know her from the internet. She didn’t think her family was that popular.

“Of course,” Nina replies. “You guys are really phenomenal.”

Before Inej can come up with an appropriate response to the compliment, she feels her phone buzzing in her pocket. Pulling it out, she chuckles at the name displayed: Mama. “Speaking of my family,” she says to Nina. “Let’s see if I can even hear her over all this Saints-forsaken noise.”

Nina crosses her fingers in support as Inej answers the phone and puts it up to her ear. “Hello?”

On the other end, she can just faintly hear her mother asking her where she is.

“I’m at the Crow Club, Mama,” she says. “I was looking for Jesper, but he’s not here, so I’m coming back to the room now.”

Seemingly satisfied with that response, her mother wishes her safety on the walk back to the hotel and hangs up.

“Sorry,” she says to Nina, slipping her phone back into her pocket. “I should probably be going. I was planning on leaving soon anyway when that guy came over.”

“That’s okay,” Nina says, hopping off the barstool. “I was thinking of heading out soon, too.”

Inej sets some kruge down on the counter for the bartender, then follows Nina out the door and into the cool night air.

“Hey,” Nina says as they stand outside the club, watching cars go by. “Would you want to—I don’t know—keep in touch?” She blushes as she says it, which doesn’t seem standard for her. “I know we didn’t talk for long, but I’m not from Kerch, so I don’t have many friends here, and you seem like a really cool person. I know you travel a lot, but…” She trails off and shrugs.

There’s still that part of Inej that warns her to exercise caution, that just because Nina helped her once doesn’t mean she’s “safe” yet. Deep down, though, Inej can feel the goodness in her. She saw a stranger in trouble and immediately leapt to her defense, even though it could’ve ended badly, even though she could’ve exposed herself as a Grisha in a potentially hostile environment. The least Inej can do is allow herself to trust her, just a little, just enough.

“That would be nice,” Inej says, pulling her phone back out. “I can give you my phone number, and you can give me yours.”

Nina’s face lights up, and Inej knows that this is the right decision. “Great!”

They exchange phones and plug their names and numbers into each other’s contact lists. When Inej gets her phone back, she sees that Nina’s surname is Zenik. It flows nicely, like a stream unobstructed by rocks or logs: Nina Zenik. Nina Zenik.

“Hmm.” Nina taps her chin thoughtfully. “I was going to offer to walk you back to wherever you’re staying, but I don’t want you to feel like I’m mothering you or think you can’t handle yourself. But it’s also a late night in Ketterdam, and that’s dangerous for anyone, let alone a young woman walking by herself. Me as well as you.”

Inej would be lying if she said she didn’t feel at least a twinge of anxiety walking the streets of Ketterdam alone at night. Staring down at the new number in her contacts, an idea presents itself to her.

“We could talk on the phone as we walk back to our places,” she says. “That way you can make sure that I’m safe, and I can make sure that you’re safe. Then, if something were to happen to one of us, the other one would know.”

A flash of what looks like relief crosses Nina’s face before she quickly covers it up. “Good idea.”

Nina’s apartment is, of course, in the opposite direction of Inej’s hotel, so they go their separate ways until they’re out of each others’ earshot, and then Inej calls Nina.

“Wow, I haven’t heard from you in forever,” Nina says.

Inej laughs. “I know. Such an agonizingly long thirty seconds.”

It takes Inej about fifteen minutes to walk to the hotel, during which she learns that the reason Nina is in Ketterdam is because she’s studying abroad for a semester, and that she’s currently attending Os Alta University to be a translator. She tells Inej funny college stories, and Inej tells her crazy stories about her travels in return. Strangely enough, Nina’s voice actually grounds her rather than distracts her. It keeps her mind in the moment so that she never has a chance to get lost in her own head. She doesn’t usually let her mind drift when she’s out and about in a large city, but with Nina, the odds are even lower. It’s comforting. Her voice is a guiding light.

Nina arrives at her apartment first, but she stays on the line with Inej, who reaches the hotel about five minutes later. Standing outside the front doors, Inej promises to keep in touch with the whirlwind girl who bounced into her life so suddenly less than an hour ago. When they finally hang up, her chest feels light.

[tts-obsessed]

“I’m taking what’s mine, even so. Not like you - you lost your nerve, you lost the game. But you and I, we’re not the same! I’m not lost, this fate was mine to choose. So I chose to lose my doubts and lose my chains, lose each weakness that remains, now that I have nothing left to lose.”

The interesting part to me about this passage is that Cass is saying Varian was right to do what he did, but disproving him in the same breath. “You lost your nerve, you lost your game” - she believes that Varian should have pushed harder, gone even further than he did to achieve his goals. She believes the reason he failed was because he had too many doubts - though he might have convinced himself at the time, he really wasn’t willing to do whatever it took to get his father back; he still had a (somewhat blurred) line he wouldn’t cross. Yes, he wanted his father back, and he was willing to both physically and mentally injure whoever he needed to in order to do so - but he couldn’t do more than that, and the damage he inflicted was relatively minor. Like we see in the scene with Arianna, he is full of doubts, and he doesn’t actually want to do any of the things he’s done so far, but he believes the only way to get Rapunzel’s attention is to hurt the people closest to her - or, on a more twisted level, maybe stealing her mother could help him feel there was some sort of “equal trade” taking place: if she wouldn’t help him save his father, then he would take her mother. That way, they’re both down a beloved parent and there is some kind of perverted closure for Varian. If he can’t have his father back, this is the next closest thing.

Cassandra thinks Varian should have gone further, pushed harder - taking Arianna wasn’t enough. He should have taken others too: Frederic, Eugene, hell, maybe even Cass herself (though he wouldn’t have been able to keep her for long). He should have hurt them more than he did. Worst of all, she knows he’s smart. He recreated an army of fully operational automatons from seeing one in a dark room, he’d created his own solutions/elixirs/what-have-you to solve various issues he faced - he made multiple earthquake machines under the earth. This boy is a genius, and if he’d fully adapted his abilities to do the utmost harm to Rapunzel, he would have succeeded. If he’d used even half of his brainpower against her, he would have crushed them all. But, again, Varian has that line he won’t cross - the one that allows him to cause pain, but not irreversible damage. Everything he did, his opponents could recover from with the right resources.

“I’m not lost, this fate was mine to choose” - what Varian did required a conscious decision. No one was (directly) manipulating him, no one told him to construct an army of automatons to attack the princess, and no one told him to kidnap the queen. He was lost, yes, but he did choose to do all that. He made a bad choice, and he suffered the consequences. Cass is blinded by the fact that she herself is headed down the same road, but with one crucial difference: she doesn’t have the line Varian did. With Zhan Tiri directly influencing her decisions and making it an active struggle to go against her darker instincts, Cass is completely convinced that if you want people to see it your way, you need to crush them first. And we’ve seen a lighter version of that throughout the series - Cass has always been a “punch first, ask questions later” kind of girl, and that has only been amplified in season three. Where Varian was struggling with his morality, knowing that every choice he made was a bad one, Cass has chosen to “lose [her] doubts and lose [her] chains”, completely freeing herself to do whatever she deems necessary to accomplish her endgame. She has severed ties (she believes) successfully with everyone she cared about - Rapunzel, Eugene, Lance, the Captain, and others; and now, she’s attempting to sever ties with Varian. What she doesn’t know is that they all still see her as a friend who’s lost her way. They all want her to come back home, which is what Varian is trying so hard to make her realise. She still has so many people who care for her, who love her for who she is, and who want to see her safe. Because of her emotionally-stunted upbringing, unfortunately, she has a harder time seeing this. Since Gothel only treated her kindly when she was out of the way, she never knew how to read genuine love. Now, Varian is presenting her with the most earnest expression of care that he can...and she’s short-circuiting. Varian has no ulterior motives, no hidden desire for her to return so he can further abuse her later. He wants her to come home so that she can heal, and have others around her to help her through that process. He’s trying so desperately to prove to her that people can simply care about you without wanting something in return, and she is responding by throwing his worst regret back in his face. He wants to remind her that he’s been through this, and look at how it turned out for him! He lost the battle, was thrown in jail, and helped enemy invaders nearly destroy Corona. He doesn’t want her to make the same mistakes, but Cass takes his pleas as a reminder that yeah, Varian was a terrible person and if he could get away with something as big as that, why can’t I? She can’t see the guilt that is eating him up. She never saw his nightmare when he touched the red rocks; she doesn’t know that what he did will haunt him for the rest of his life. All she sees is a boy that was too weak to carry out his revenge, and someone she has to be “better” than. Varian may have failed, but she won’t. She doesn’t have moral inhibitions, and she doesn’t have anyone to stop her, so she will keep going until she wins...or she destroys herself.

Can you tell I’m an English major?😂 this got LONG

[heartslogos]

newfragile yellows [1065]

“Listen, I know, I know. Oh, boy oh boy do I know," Ellana says, eyes flickering between the person she’d so rudely barged in on and the tent flaps, “Sounds drop dead gorgeous, doesn’t he? He is. But also the emphasis should be on the words drop dead. Because if you answer or go outside you will drop dead. Believe me.”

“Don’t lie to the man,” the Iron Bull calls from the other side of the thin and weather beaten fabric, “I have plenty of self control. You won’t die. Is there any room left inside for me? Awful rude of you, Lavellan. I come out all this way to see you and first thing you do is run into the arms of another man? Lucky you I’m not the jealous type.”

Ellana shivers at the slight threads of power that Bull weaves into his voice, quickly focusing her attention on —

“Hey, what can I call you?” Ellana asks.

The man stares at her, still shocked by her sudden entrance and by the fact that there’s a very, very seductive, very good at what he does, vampire on the other side of his tent.

“Uh. Benny.”

“Hi, Benny,” Ellana holds her hand out and the man shakes it on autopilot. “I’m Ellana.”

She pulls out her license and holds it out for his inspection, using her cellphone flashlight to illuminate it.

“Supernatural Division,” Ellana continues, “Night Patrol Sargeant. By the authority granted to me by the Accords I’m temporarily seeing shelter in your wonderfully and fortunately located tent for the next half hour. By the same authority I am going to strongly insist that you do not give the vampire on the other side of that tent flap permission to come inside. You can throw me out if you want to, I’ll make it.” Probably. Ellana’s been in tougher situations than this before. With any luck she can probably try and tree herself and maybe Bull will lose interest. Or he’ll bring the tree crashing down and Ellana with it. “There are thirty more minutes until sunrise, Benny. If the both of us can stay in this tent without the vampire being invited in we’ll be golden. What say you?”

The man’s eyes slowly travel from Ellana’s face towards the tent flaps.

Ellana quickly snaps her fingers in his face. It’s rude, but it’s one of the easiest ways to break the beginnings of a thrall.

“Eyes on me, Benny,” Ellana says, “Eyes on me.”

And towards Bull she calls out, “You are going to regret this.”

“Is that a promise?” Bull asks, all flirtation and zero higher thought processes.

“When I find out what kind of fucking drugs were in those goddamned brownies I’m going to throw Sera off a cliff and straight into one of Evelyn’s anti-drug seminars,” Ellana says. “And I’ll throw you in right after. Once whatever it is wears off you’re going to remember this — and if you don’t I’m going to be very thorough in reminding you — and you’re never going to live it down.”

“Is he dangerous?” Benny whispers.

Ellana grimaces.

“He’s…” Ellana fumbles around for the proper words to describe him.

“Benny,” the Iron Bull says from the outside. Ellana can physically feel the power he’s pushing into his voice. “I’m the Iron Bull. Also of the Supernatural Division. Night Patrol Captain.”

Ellana’s shoulders tense and she snaps her fingers under Benny’s nose again.

“Yes, Captain outranks sergeant,” Ellana says just to get it out of the way, “But at this moment in time the Iron Bull is compromised and not thinking straight.”

“I never think straight.”

“So Benny, right now I need you to listen to me and ignore the man who’s going real heavy on that compulsion outside. Do you have headphones? Earbuds? Any loud music that you can play on your phone?” Ellana talks straight over Bull, physically holding Benny’s head in her hands so he has to look at her. “Focus Benny. Twenty five minutes until sunrise. You can do this.”

“Couldn’t he just compel you to let him in?”

“Nope. I don’t own the tent,” Ellana says. And then — “Would you rather I knocked you out?”

Benny makes a horrified face.

“Compulsion doesn’t work if you’re unconscious,” Ellana points out. “Don’t worry. I’ve done this loads of times. It won’t hurt and there won’t be any lasting damage. During a lot of vampires-gone-bad situations the person’s being staled usually ask to be knocked out for the duration. There’s no shame in it. If it’s easier for you and keeps you safe then that’s what it is.”

“Your boyfriend is out here all alone in the cold wet night and you’re inside a nice warm tent with another guy talking about putting him to bed,” the Iron Bull says.

Ellana flicks her recorder on.

“Ignore that. Do you want to be out for this? Yes or no, Benny? I need solid confirmation. Twenty two minutes until sunrise and if you want I can escort you back to your car once it’s over.”

Benny’s eyes are beginning to cloud over with the heavy weight of the Iron Bull’s compulsion but he nods, mouth opening as he weakly says, “Yeah. Better knock me out. I picked a bad weekend to go camping.”

Ellana nods, “Better luck trying the northern campgrounds next time. I know, crowded and full of families this time of year. But they’re safer because they’re closer to city and too loud for most supernatural creatures to target.”

Before Benny can answer Ellana twists the ring on her index finger and raps her knuckle against Benny’s forehead. The man is down instantly, Ellana catches him as he slumps over and gently lowers him onto his sleeping bag.

“He’s out, don’t try anything,” Ellana says, turning her recorder back off. “Bull. I’m serious.”

“So am I.” Bull sighs. “I wouldn’t do anything to you. You’re acting like I’m going to tear you to pieces. I’m hurt.”

“I know.” Ellana crosses her legs, letting herself slip into a meditation pose. “But your ability to care for people is frighteningly limited. Even more so when your inhibitions are lowered. As long as you’re chasing after me you aren’t going after anyone else. Or do you not recall the time you once threw an entire truck to get at me?”

“Real vague on the details there, Lavellan.”

“Forgive me, I was concussed with a bleeding head wound at the time, I don’t quite recall much aside from the fact you threw an entire truck and were commanding me not to die. I do remember the stupid amounts of paperwork we had to do afterwards though. Do you want a repeat of that?”

[bscully]

I see a lot of people praise caska for being an amazing female character but I kinda feel like she’s written like a bad joke about women (looses battle because period, too emotional, told her role is to comfort guts, etc...) she doesn’t get much time to really shine as a fighter either bc she’s constantly being saved of course I love her and will always defend her but do u think she’s actually written well as a girl? I feel like I’d be lying if I praised her for it

Hello and thanks for the ask!

No offense but I mean…

Let’s put it into perspective. There is a reason why Casca during the Golden Age was written the way she was, and I don’t think it’s necessarily bad writing. Some (questionable) views about women were expressed that way, but I’d like to think that’s more because of the time the Golden Age was written in, rather than because of malicious intent.

During the Black Swordsman Arc we were shown how Guts handled those who were weak: He absolutely detested them.

During the Golden Age we were shown how he dealt with other’s weakness (Casca’s) and also *why* he hated the weak during his Black Swordsman Arc days: During the Eclipse, the Hawks all died because they were weak, and Casca was violated and lost her mind because she could not defend herself either. (The irony of this is that both of these things all happened because of his best efforts to save Griffith, boyo was too distracted)

Black Swordsman Arc

Guts generally was very contempt towards those he considered weak, and also especially towards other men, e.g. Vargas whom he just let die. Another time someone weaker than him died, it was the priests’ daughter, who was slaughtered by evil spirits. He also felt remorse killing her possessed body, even then and also vomits later on (he always vomits when he hurts a child or girl, see Adonis, see killing the fire children in the lost children chapters). In the page below, bottom panel, you can see white sprinkles which I believe are tears.

He then goes on to say how he cannot bother to crush ants below his feet when he walks. That was his way of dealing with the sadness, getting someone who is weaker than him killed because of him. His love-hate relationship to weaker people was also shown to us by his interactions with Theresia: in some way, he did save her here from falling off the ruins. But she had to hold onto a sharp blade so she wouldn’t fall.

Guts was hurting someone who he would love to protect, and he also hated himself for it. He made Theresia go down the very same path like he did because revenge is the only way to give her something to hold onto after losing everything.

It reminded of his own suffering, losing the Hawks and Casca. At least, this is the conclusion I made when I read the Golden Age and then look back to the Black Swordsman arc.

Golden Age

When Casca was later introduced during the Golden age, IMO Kentaro Miura wanted to show us how Guts usually treated people. As it turns out, Guts does want to protect and make sure people are safe. He also listens to them trying his best to meet their expectations. In other words, he was not always an asshole. In regards to other people’s weaknesses, his treatment of Casca was still rough in the beginning, but at the very least imo, well-intentioned.

Now you can critique Miura for his display of Casca’s womanhood. I am personally not particularly bothered by it, especially if this situation is a set up for romance in the first place. Of course the protagonist is going to take note of another character’s feminity if the author plans to hook them up. Guts was confronted with Casca’s female problems (periods) and what we were shown is that Guts, while he may have had his preconceptions about women too, still is understanding of their struggles AND their weakness.

Like… he first gets upset at Casca, but then acknowledges that she doesn’t have it easy, dealing with her own problems and emotions at times (Casca is a VERY emotional personality, too, but usually she has more self-control than this).

If anything, this bit right here displays Guts’ willingness to change his mind, his capacity to understand others and also help them in the process. Empathy, compassion, y’know? Something he lacked during the Black Swordsman Arc (this here happens right before Vargas is being beheaded):

That being said, I don’t think Miura actually thought that women being emotional is a negative thing when he wrote this, but he may have been affected by negative (cultural?) bias.

In the face of that weakness, Guts tries to help Casca out where he can and be supportive of her, e.g. by protecting her from Adon and his men - the 100 Man slayer scene was basically Guts protecting Casca’s womanhood from thirsty mercenaries, while she COULD NOT defend herself as effective because of her state (and he does that DESPITE of Casca throwing a knife at him earlier). This theme also repeats during the Eclipse, however, here he could do nothing but watch in his own helplessness.

Also let it be said that Miura’s potrayal of Casca’s period isn’t too far off, because periods CAN knock you the fuck out like that. My last one was absolutely devastating and I wouldn’t have survived without taking pain meds. So can periods affect your capacity to fight? Yes, they definitely can. You also gotta consider that Miura is male, and males *usually* do not know the effects of periods in detail unless they confronted themselves with it; also consider the Golden Age was written in the 90s, so that topic wasn’t prevalent for men at all.

Contrast & Comparison as writing tool

Miura also set up a nice contrast by adding in a particularly sexist character: of course I’m talking about Adon.

Adon calls Guts a fool for protecting someone at the cost of his own well-being, and the way he talks it’s like saving multiple women and exploit them is normal and acceptable.

But: Guts is literally taking multiple arrow shots for Casca and does not ask for anything in return. (It’s also interesting to note that through Adon’s mockery Casca realizes what Guts is doing for her) Now, you could argue that Guts is still a sexist asshole, however, at least in comparison to Adon, Guts still appears like the good guy  You can critique the ideas about women, how their prejudices and problems they struggle with are depicted, yes, and imo it is valid critique, too. But creating comparisons by showing how differently the characters act or think in the same scene is still an effective way of story-telling.

What Miura later did with other female characters, like Farnese or Schierke, was to “mature up” his writing. His tools however, stayed the same.

More examples comes to mind:

Guts leaving the Hawks

When Guts leaves the hawks, Griffith, Guts, Casca and Judeau all hold monologues, depicting how differently they think. While Casca and Rickert view  the Hawks as family, Judeau still considers them a mercenary band, and Griffith treats his subordinate Guts like a possession and has no inhibition to kill him if it meant he would either not leave or not join another faction and potentially become his enemy. I wrote about this in more detail here on my website

Conviction Arc Farnese

The contrasting happens again when Miura makes Guts meet Farnese for the first time. He was captured by the Holy Iron Chain Knights.

Farnese treated Guts pretty badly: she whipped him out in a desperate attempt to assure dominance, then threw him outside into the cold so he would eventually freeze to death.

When Guts takes HER hostage, they switch roles. Surely, he is being rough to her, but at the same time, is saving her multiple times, e.g. from falling to death or evil spirits.

This is the same writing tool used, just filled with different ideas. Miura’s writing itself hasn’t changed.

Casca is not powerless

Also Casca indeed is capable of defending herself. She is NOT always being saved. Even when being pursued after escaping from the 100 Man Slayer Scene, she gave the pursuing mercenaries a hard time, e.g. ramming a branch into one of the merc’s eyes. In that scene, it didn’t look like Casca was losing, she just got herself out of a dangerous situation and leaps to grab her sword! Only THEN we see how a volley of arrows interrupts the fight.  Does this look like a Casca to you that is about to lose? It doesn’t to me. She could have easily defeated the other two pursuers all by herself.

Casca, NOT GUTS, later defeated Adon all by herself and she was at a disadvantage too (think the poison dart).

Even during the Eclipse she dealt the final blow to take down the apostle that killed Judeau. She is not being depicted as powerless at all. She always seems at a disadvantage, struggling against all odds, and *still* is victorious. Guts acknowledges the strength it takes for her to do what she does, and that’s why Guts is helping her as much as he can.

Now you could STILL say “omg but that’s still sexist”, but eh. There is nothing wrong with acknowledging someone else’s struggle, celebrating them for pulling through despite of all the obstacles, and also willing to help out, but I’ll keep that politics stuff for another post. Stuff like this can go wrong yes, but in either case and as far as I am concerned, Guts is not trying to be patronizing or strip her off her independence in any way.

However, Casca’s strength does have limits and her full strength was not shown to us either, but I’d like to think that’s mostly because she is more a side-character and didn’t have much chance to shine during the Golden Age. I really really hope that will change with future chapters.

TL;DR Just because an author expresses outdated ideas or ideas you disagree with, does not mean it’s bad writing.

[sociopath-analysis]

Sociopath Profile: Dr. House

Real name: Gregory “Greg” House, M.D. From the television series House (2004-2012) Played by Hugh Laurie Requested by @goldenautomaton​ and thanks to them for helping with research.

The eponymous character definitely has a knack for his profession. He has sociopathic traits, but he is trying to do the best for his patients and help solve their problems. He tries to be a productive member of society... That said, he’s extremely self-important, tends to be rather reckless in how he operates, has an almost active disregard for other’s feelings, and is generally not the kindest person around. While he’s not fully sociopathic in a clinical sense, he’s definitely close to the character-type.

As I mentioned, he’s incredibly prideful in how he carries himself. He often acts like the entire hospital wouldn’t run without him. While he is indispensable, his contribution is not outweighed by the several instances of misconduct that occur under his watch. He does have reason to be proud of himself. He’s good at what he does and gets several chances to show that throughout the series. It’s just that the way he decides to show this pride is often used to put others down in the process, whether intentional (most likely) or not. Usually people that annoy him. And the number of patients he blatantly belittles while helping them happens to be a rather long list. Even when they have life-threatening illnesses.

“Hello, sick people and their loved ones! In the interest of saving time and avoiding a lot of boring chit-chat later, I’m Dr. Gregory House. You can call me Greg. I’m one of three doctors staffing this clinic this morning. [...] I am a board certified diagnostician with a double specialty of infectious disease and nephrology. I’m also the only doctor employed at this clinic who’s force to be here against his will.“

Contradictory to his profession, House also shows a blatant disregard for the well-being of his patients. If it isn’t a challenge to him, he won’t take it as seriously even if he is trying to help them. This can usually be on display by the fact that he tends to mess with his patients or, in one instance, playing Metroid on his Gameboy while waiting for Dr. Cuddy in front of a patient. Other times, it can be way worse. Such as trying to use very dangerous (and very illegal) forms of treatment to help them. This extends to his coworkers as well. He has slipped amphetamines to Wilson just for his own amusement. More than once. When Wilson confronts him, House talks about it like he’s doing him a favor. In another time, he does this to Wilson and Cuddy’s mother and doesn’t bother trying to justify that one. He just wanted to get out of a dinner with her mother.

He also happens to have an issue with ethics. As mentioned, he shows some rather blatant recklessness. Many treatments he gives would realistically have his medical license revoked and would constitute for the repeated criminal behavior noted in many real cases of ASPD. In the middle of a hostage situation when someone forces him at gunpoint to diagnose him, he tries to slip a tranquilizer to one of the other patients to trick him into taking it so he thinks it’s safe. Had the guy not passed out earlier, it would have worked. In addition to other’s lives, he also has a disregard for his own safety since he gave the gun back to the man to keep up the hostage situation until he could diagnose him, showing more interest in solving the puzzle of this man’s illness. One thing that is also notable is his addictive tendencies - also something common in ASPD cases. Most notably, his addiction to painkillers.

“If you’re particularly annoying, you may see me reach for this. This is Vicodin. It’s mine. You can’t have any. And no, I do not have a pain management problem. I have a pain problem.”

And House mostly views his job as a game to prove his intelligence. He seeks satisfaction out of being right and solving a puzzle rather than saving lives more often than not. There’s also the numerous things that he does to mess with people just for his entertainment. Many of which are already detailed above. In addition to that, he also seems to enjoy preying on peoples insecurities for his amusement as well. His coworkers can probably attest to this, but a very blatant example was when he was in a psych ward. He pinpointed the things that made them uncomfortable and used it to blatantly antagonize them - including implicitly tempting a girl with suicidal tendencies into killing herself again.

Most of the guilt he displays tends to be over fear of the consequences rather than actual guilt. Considering the fact that he often tries to hide what he’s doing when he’s about to do something dangerous with a patient, he knows he could get into serious trouble for it and doesn’t do it more since he’d just get caught for it. This is also the case for what happens when he starts getting hit on by an underage girl and she starts stalking him. He knows that he could go to jail for having a relationship with her, but he still engages with her flirty banter. And when he realizes her horniness is due to an illness she contracted that lowers inhibitions, he only laments the missed opportunity while writing her a prescription for the ailment.

While he is an amazing diagnostic doctor who has no doubt saved many lives, his sociopathy still shows through in many moments even when he’s trying to help people. There are some implications that he does have some capacity for empathy towards others and genuine moments of emotions. However, this seems to be drowned out by the many instances of reckless and sometimes life-threatening actions he commits rather often.

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