#pls tell me what you thought

[pradaxstyles]

“Okay, maybe I have a crush on you! So what?” 

This would totally work for Ellie, after Santa Barbara, cause I think she'd be a complete and total emotional mess and wouldn't know how to handle her feelings..

Collateral

Pairing -> Ellie Williams x Fem Reader

Warnings -> Some game dialogue (second game, Tommy made me so mad when he came to Ellie with this. like let the girl live in peace please), brief mention of Ellie's missing fingers, swearing, end is a little rushed, not proofread, fluff at the end bc I said so <3

Word count -> 1.3k

Playlist -> Unbroken, Gustavo Santaolalla

Alexa's notes✨ -> Caroline!!!!! Thank you so so much for requesting something! It means the world to me. I really hope you enjoy this and that I did it justice! As always, please come chat or leave some feedback! love yall xoxo

Your relationship with Ellie wasn't something that was clear cut. It didn't have clear lines, it wasn't black and white. It was more of an array of muddled colors that somehow worked together seamlessly. You knew how she felt about you, and you her, so there wasn't a question as to whether you would go with her to Seattle in search of Abby and her friends.

When that was all said and done you both agreed on starting a life together outside of Jackson. The farmhouse had been one your favorite places you've lived in, partly because Ellie was right by your side.

That was until Ellie left for Santa Barbara.

The day Tommy came by, you could see the wheels turning in Ellie's mind. You had done so much to get where you were, and he was threatening that stability. You knew Ellie struggled with what happened to Joel. You knew it. Ellie tried so hard to hide everything from you, even now.

You'd been by her with everything that happened in Seattle, putting your life at risk every damn day because you loved Ellie. You've had the front row seat to everything that is Ellie Williams, and here she was, debating Tommy's words.

"This new guy heard my story," Tommy began. "He told me about a woman that he traded with while he was moving through California." He unfolded the map and laid it down on the table, smoothing out the creases. "Described her as built like an ox, traveling with a kid with scars across his face."

Ellie was hanging on to his every word.

You stood off to the side trying not to eavesdrop, but how could you not? Ellie sat up straighter, leaning in slightly to take a glance at the map in front of her.

"He said they were livin' across this coast, in a beached sail boat," Tommy reached over and pointed a single finger on the dusty map, "Right here."

You could tell Ellie felt torn, her eyebrows knitted together as she glanced around the room. Her gaze landed on you for a split second, and you could see the internal struggle that raged within the girl.

Moving to place yourself next to Ellie, "That's enough," you articulated, "We're done with that and you know it."

Ellie reached to place her hand on the small of your back. Shaking her head, she whispered a small, "I'm sorry."

The scratch of the chair against the wood filled the brief silence, followed by Tommy's scoff. "Reckon it's easy to forget about her. Sitting all comfy way out here-"

You took a protective step in front of Ellie, "Tommy-"

"'I'll make her pay.' That's what you said when we got back to Jackson."

Placing a strong hand against his chest, you gave him a shove. The look in your eyes lethal, "That is enough!" you exclaimed. "Get the hell out of my house and don't come back with that shit, ever again. Do you hear me?"

Tommy scoffed again, "What a joke." He shuffled toward the door while mumbling things under his breath.

You placed a gentle hand on Ellie's cheek and ran your thumb across her lips before stomping after Tommy. The screen door smacked into the side of the house with the force of you pushing it.

"You're a real jackass, you know that? How dare yo-"

"How dare I? She made me a promise! Don't you think that should mean something?"

A sarcastic laugh fell from your lips, "Are you fucking kidding me? Do you not realize what she's been through?" barely taking a breath, "What we have been through? We almost died in Seattle and I'll be damned if you pressure Ellie into going back out there for some stupid lead."

Soft pants came from your parted mouth. You were absolutely seething at Tommy's audacity. Why couldn't he just drop it? So many lives were lost in the search for Abby. It wasn't his life he was putting at risk, it was Ellie's. He'd have to shoot you dead before you allowed that.

Tommy gave you a sharp look before turning his back and leading his horse to the front gate.

You watched him ride off as you caught your breath.

Pulling the screen door shut behind you, you turned to find Ellie still seated at the table.

"Els, I'm so sorry he did that. He had absolutely no right to show up here and treat you like that."

Ellie warily glanced up at you, a bleak look painted her features. A sigh escaped her lips as she grabbed your hand and led you to the seat across from her.

"Babe, I think-"

"Please tell me you're not actually considering this. Please."

Ellie snapped her gaze down to the map and back up to you. "I can't live like this anymore, knowing she's still out there. I don't eat, I don't sleep."

You blinked the tears away that were threatening to slip. "Ellie.." Your voice broke slightly as you rose to stand. "You need to know that I've grown to care for you, deeply. But if you walk out of this house, I don't know if I'll be here waiting for you to come back."

Ellie rose and stood to face you, inches between you both. A pained expression covered her face, "That's up to you."

With that, she took her backpack and walked out the door, leaving you in the beloved farmhouse alone.

‧⋆ ✧˚₊‧⋆. ✧˚₊‧⋆‧‧⋆ ✧˚₊‧⋆. ✧˚₊‧⋆‧‧⋆ ✧˚₊‧⋆. ✧˚₊‧⋆‧‧⋆ ✧˚₊‧⋆. ✧˚₊‧⋆

It had been three months, and there was still no sign of Ellie. You waited every day for her to walk through that door and into your arms. The old calendar in the kitchen had been marked up, serving as a tracker for the days that molded into one.

It was easy to grow weary, to sit in silence most days and reminisce on the months prior. The ache was a deep, constant feeling in your body.

There was one day, the sun's embrace warm as you sat on the porch swing that you saw it.

Ellie's slim figure making its way up to the front gate, backpack in hand.

Your eyes fell into a sharp squint thinking your mind had been playing tricks on you.

The gate clanked open, and you knew she was home.

Standing up, you scampered towards the girl.

"Ellie?! Is that you?"

Ellie's own footsteps broke into a run after hearing your sweet voice. God, she missed that voice so much.

You slammed your body into her strong frame, wrapping your arms tightly around her neck. "Ellie," you melted, "I'm so happy you're back home."

She picked you up off the ground slightly, inhaling the scent of your freshly washed hair. "I missed you so much, baby. You have no idea."

Placing you back on your feet, her cool hands met your cheeks and you leaned into her touch, relishing the feel of her skin against yours.

Opening one eye at the unfamiliar sensation, "Uh, Els? What the hell happened to your fingers?" You all but ripped her hand off your cheek and brought it up to your face to inspect.

A deep chuckle fell from her lips and she smiled at you, "I'll explain everything, I promise. Let's go inside before you get cold."

Slinging her backpack across her shoulders, she intertwined your fingers in her good hand and led you back to the house. It felt right being back home with you. Ellie realized a lot of things while she was gone and was finally able to process some of those feelings. Not that she wouldn't tell you eventually, but Ellie loved you from the moment she first laid eyes on you all those years ago in Jackson. It took her a while to decipher those feelings, but she's never been so sure of something as she is this.

Glancing down at you, she gave your hand a slight squeeze, "I love you, sweet girl. More than you'll ever know."

[willowser]

i think katsuki just answers his phone by barking out, "bakugou." no hello, probably doesn't even look at the caller id LOL when he hears it's you, though, i think he breathes out the tension he didn't realize was coiled in his shoulders, and says a lil, "hey," 🥺🥺

and i think when he calls you, and you answer with your sweet, "helloooo ??" he is so soft 😌 just mumbles out a quiet, "what'chu doin'?" and listens as you tell him, before saying what he needed to 😌

[httpiastri]

Can we talk about paul and his bare backk pleaaase

i fear that i have watched this video too many times to be considered sane….. (me? insane for him?? never)

like obvs we've gotten paul muscular back content before but i swear to godddd this did something special to me…. idk if you know but back muscles (esp upper back) are actually my favorite thing and the fact that he looks like this is just so 🫠🫠 the way they move and contract when he moves? i cant? anD WHY ARE HIS LATS SO BIG LIKEEE I WAS THINKING THEYRE ALRIGHT BUT THEN THE END OF THE VID COMES AND I SEE THE FULL LENGTH WND STRENGTH OF THEM AND I JUST ?? HOW?!?!? 😓😓😓 buttt how is it fair that i cant feel his muscles under my hands? why am i not allowed to draw along the lines with my fingers? press a few fleeting kisses on them maybe???

[bottom-lexa]

47 Light-years

Alien!Clarke x Human!Lexa for Wanheda’s Dagger Week

Summary:

With the concerning decline in fertility threatening to eventually wipe out the human race, Dr. Lexa Woods and her team are on an expedition on the planet of Arkadia 47 light-years away from Earth, researching the native species to bring back a solution. The Arkadians are known to be efficient breeders but the team at their base, Polis, are getting nowhere in cracking what makes them so good at it. It is made even more difficult with the fact that the aliens cannot communicate with them. After nearly two long years of research, Dr. Woods believes the only way to learn more is by mating and being bred by one of them. Given the similarities in biology, the young gifted scientist is certain a pregnancy will take, but mating with an Arkadian is not an easy feat.

Read here

[revasserium]

neverending daydreams with kenma? 🫶

reqs are open :)

neverending daydreams

kenma; 3,709 words; almost freakishly fluffy, but also kinda trippy. basically my specialty and i love this fic a holy freaking hell of a lot. if u read pls PLS tell me what u think u__u and lemme know if u 'get' the ending!!!

he has never been, in all seriousness, what people would have called a dreamer. but having spent most of his waking hours either gaming or wishing he were gaming, kenma quietly considers the implications of being called as such. a dreamer. what a title — what a name.

what a burden.

“was it bad last night?”

“no, not as bad… but at least it was interesting.”

“oh yeah? tell me.”

“so there was a maze, right — and then you know the super hot manga character from the new series — yeah, he was there too, and we had to like figure out this maze but we couldn’t wear shoes —”

kenma lets his head lilt to one side, his eyes falling shut in the early afternoon sun filtering through the wide classroom windows. they’d been cracked open half an hour ago to let in some air, the spring blossoming into what kenma is already sure would be an absolutely sweltering tokyo summer. he’s already dreading it.

“— and then i woke up!”

“aww… lame! you didn’t even make out!”

your laughter spills across the room, warm as the sun now soaking into kenma’s skin and he shakes himself awake, blinking unfocused towards the gaggle of girls sitting three rows ahead of him, heads bent together, a multi-limbed conglomeration of painted nails and hair pins, phone baubles and perfume. he shudders slightly — making out — what a thought. how gross. he’d never understood the appeal, even as more and more of his classmates began to whisper about it, to joke and cackle about it next to the shoe-lockers, in the stalls of the boys bathrooms during lunch, on the benches near the playparks on the way home, loitering around convenience store corners, eyes lingering on bare skin and bracelets, on rolled up sleeves and blushing cheeks.

kenma crinkles his nose, thinking now, of noses. and where on earth they’d even go if you were to —

“oi kenma-kun, do you have notes from yesterday’s class? i lent mine to kiyo in 2-b and she says her dog ate it.”

kenma blinks, nonplussed as your face swims into view, his vision catching on the tiny gems glinting from your earlobes.

“huh? you… don’t really believe that, do you?” he asks before he can quite stop himself. the resulting silence makes an uncomfortable heat climb up the length of his neck till his cheeks are burning with it, and still, you stare at him.

“why shouldn’t i? her dog eats weird stuff all the time.”

kenma blinks again, owlish, and he’s unsure if your confusion is feigned and this entire thing is just some elaborate prank, one that’ll break you into laughter any second. he resists the urge to look around, to make sure that the rest of his classmates aren’t all watching him like they’re in on the joke, waiting for the cue to start laughing as well. he feels his shoulders shrugging up as he fights down a frown.

“yeah but… that’s like the oldest excuse in the book, isn’t it? my dog ate my homework?”

this time, its your turn to blink, cocking your head to one side as you regard him, not a hint of malice or trickery in sight. he feels almost ashamed of himself for thinking it of you. of course you wouldn’t.

and then, you laugh. and he starts again, not because this was what he’d been afraid of but because this is the exact kind of laughter he was not expecting, pure and unhurried and unabashedly happy.

“ah — i guess you’re right, but… well, if she wants to keep my notes, then that’s fine. i’ll just make another set. so…” you smile at him, bright as dawn and summer starlight, “can i borrow your notes from yesterday?”

kenma resists the urge to groan, because his mind is already racing into overdrive — why not just ask kiyo from 2-b to give you back your notes again? nay, to demand that she give it back? to threaten her dog with… with what yet, kenma isn’t sure, but he is sure that that would be simpler, would it not, than to ask him for his notes. even though, sure, yes — he has almost all the same classes as you and sure, yes — he does also take pretty good notes. and sure, yes — fine.

this might be the path of least resistance but… doesn’t it feel a bit like punching in the cheatcode? isn’t it stunting… character growth and exp gain for both you and kiyo in 2-b? what if this causes a glitch in the matrix and you’re stuck in the eternal loop of borrowing people’s notes only to have your own notes be taken and eaten by kiyo’s homework-devouring dog until no one in school has notes anymore and everyone fails? would everyone have to hard-reset and start the year over?

“uh… sure… i guess. if you promise to give it back.” he reaches into his bag to pull out his notebook, pressing his lips for a second before handing it over.

you make a noise that’s caught between a squeal and a squeak. it’s a happy sound, he’s sure.

“thank you, thank you, thank you! and yes, i promise i’ll give it back! and my dog doesn’t eat homework — only table scraps and puppy treats — and maybe the occasional piece of trash on the sidewalk, but definitely no homework!”

you press the notes to your chest and beam at him and kenma finally lets out a soul-shaking sigh. he wishes he were home; he wishes he were playing video games; he wishes that the day came with a fast-forward button so he didn’t have to deal with all these scenarios that don’t make a lick of human sense.

the next day, when you return his notes, it’s with a shy smile and that he isn’t entirely sure what to make of. you’d licked your lips and looked anywhere but at him before pressing the notebook back into his chest and scurrying off with a thankssomuchforyournotes! tossed over your shoulder before you’re disappearing into your multi-limbed girl-gaggle and they were all laughing and giggling as they absorb you back into their amorphous blob, casting furtive glances his way that make his shoulders want to shrink up to his ears, if only to hide his face behind.

he hunkers down over his notebook, adjusts his sports bag and hurries into homeroom.

it isn’t until japanese literature, when he’s flipping open said borrowed-and-now-returned notebook that he notices — there’s a drawing on next blank page. or, well, what used to be the next blank page but is now definitely no longer blank. and it’s a drawing of you.

kenma stares down at it, at the cartoonishly large head, the huge, anime-lashed eyes, at your chibi-rendered hands clasped together in an unmistakable gesture of thanks. and something inside him jumps. something warm and thumping and uncoordinated. it coughs, skips, skids inside his chest and it takes him a moment to realize that it’s his heart.

thanks again! let me treat you to lunch sometime?

he reads the line four times before he finally manages to process the words. lunch. sometime.

treat?

he frowns. but school lunches are always free.

his eyes slingshot towards you, drawn as if by a magnetic force, and he finds you immediately. your eyes meet and a zing sings through him, shaking him from the top of his head to the tips of his toes. your cheeks flush, but you don’t look away. instead, you cock your head as if asking a question.

his heart thumps, and then thumps again. heat slowly unfurls in the base of his stomach, something like hunger, except it isn’t actually hunger. it’s a wanting, a thrumming wish — pressing and feverish and — he swallows hard, tearing his eyes away from you to look back down at the drawing, at the words.

treat. lunch. sometime.

sometime. but it can’t be during school. then when?

kenma freezes as realization washes through him, cold as a too-large bite of icecream.

oh. oh.

and then, he blushes hard enough for him to bury his face in his arms, refusing to pick his head up even when the literature teacher asks him expressly if he were feeling ill.

it’s saturday at noon, to be precise. and as kenma waits outside the neighborhood soba house, he wonders briefly if he’d accidentally stumbled upon a hidden side-quest that’s actually more difficult than the main storyline, because he’s almost certain that he’d never signed up for this.

cold-soba with you. alone. together.

no. he scuffs his feet against the floor, his fingers furling and unfurling in his pockets, so unaccustomed to not having a game console to fiddle with, no controllers to twiddle. he feels it like a phantom itch, like ghost-controllers as he opts for chewing on his lower lip instead.

stupid kuroo, taking away his switch. stupid, stupid, genius kuroo, letting it “slip” that kenma had a date on saturday, so that his mother had fussed all morning and had subjected him to a full-body pat down to confiscated the rest of his ill-hidden hand-held gaming consoles one by one with a scowl and a reprimand of no gaming when you’re on your first real date, kozume!

at least, he thinks, tugging his phone out of his pocket to flip through the preinstalled games there, there’s alway snake —

“kenma-kun! hi! sorry i’m late!”

your voice catches him like a punch in the stomach and he almost drops his phone, fumbling it for a second before catching it and shoving it into his pocket.

he looks up, a frown already forming on his forehead when he stops — he catches sight of you and that strange, twisting not-hunger-hunger gnaws at a growing space inside him. because oh — there you are. you’re standing in front of him, a little breathless, but dressed like… like a display from a pastry store window, or one of those ball-jointed dolls that have entire fan-followings online. you’re lashes and lace, earrings and nail-art, and all the normal things he’d come to associate with the strange, foreign concept of girl-geometry but you’re also nervous, and sweet, and looking up at him with those huge eyes, not unlike those in the chibi-doodle version of yourself that you’d left in his notebook.

and nervousness he understands. sweetness… he understands too. to a certain degree.

“no, you’re fine… i just got here too,” he says, and it’s a not-really-lie, because he did just get here… like fifteen minutes ago. but time’s just a human construct anyway, and there’s no point in getting caught up in the semantics.

he takes a breath at the same time you do, and you break into a fit of nervous laughter that makes him want to reach out and bottle the sound. or maybe just to record it on his phone for a rainy day. he tamps down the strange and doubtlessly creepy urge with a cough and motions vaguely towards the door.

“uh — you wanna…”

you nod, a bit too hard, before brushing by him into the soba shop and bowing to the middle-aged woman behind the counter.

she seats the pair of you in a booth, tucked into the corner, and for this kenma is thankful. he feels himself relaxing into the secludedness of the position.

“hot?” he asks, watching as you fan yourself with your hand from across the table.

you freeze and blush again, and he looks down immediately, feeling rather guilty for putting you on the spot. but when he glances back at you, you’re smiling.

“yeah, a little. it’s gonna be so gross this summer.”

“yeah, i know. i hate it already.”

he would’ve winced if it hadn’t been cut off by the sound of your laughter. with this, at least, he is familiar. how many times had he let himself melt into that sound during all those classes you had together? how many times had he centered himself around it, made it the still point of his turning universe, grounded himself to it so he could count from one moment to the next. he hadn’t thought it anything strange before now — after all, isn’t that what the internet says you’re supposed to do when you’re feeling unmoored? to find a commonality and stake yourself to it. only…

is it strange that he’d chosen your laughter?

it’d been such a simple choice, so easy to make — it was everywhere, and when it wasn’t there, he could conjure up the sound perfectly.

sitting across from you now, he pauses, wondering what kuroo would say if he were ever to bring this up. probably call him a pervert and never let him live it down.

“me too. i think i hate a lot of things but…” you break off, your eyes meeting his for a split second before looking away.

kenma breathes, watches the way you worry your bottom lip.

the conversation is stilted, but after a while, the awkwardness wears off. like silver soaking off years of accumulated tarnish, the shine breaking through as the soba is served and the pair of you are left slurping at the chilled noodles.

by the time he offers to walk you home, kenma finds that he’s no longer searching for things to do with his fingers, the phantom itch of a ghost-console no longer needed to occupy the space between his hands. and when you say goodbye to him this time, it’s no longer a string of words strung together too fast, tossed like an endless hope over your shoulder, but held between the pair of your bodies like a promise.

“see you on monday!”

kenma smiles, “yeah… sure. see you then.”

he watches as you turn to walk away, and his feet warm with the premonition of motion, but something holds him still, holds him there as he watches you take two steps, three steps — and then, you turn back around. and you’re closing the space between you and him, quick as a flash, your lips grazing the skin of his cheek, and then just as quickly, you’re falling back onto your just-taken steps, your cheeks ablaze as you wave a hand at him and race off before he can do more than open his mouth, his jaw loosened by the action, the thought — the motion and e-motion of it all.

kenma stares at the place where your body had just been, taking up space, and then oh-so-abruptly… not.

you’d turned the corner, and now not even your shadow lingers, but he fancies that there’s still a break in the light, a tear in the air just in front of him where you had been, warmed by your just-there-ness. slowly, he raises a hand to swipe it through that space, before bringing it up to his cheek to brush it against the place where your lips had been.

and are now no longer.

and there too, he feels his own skin, warmed by the just-there-ness of your no-longer-there lips.

three days, it takes him. three days to build up the courage to ask you out again. on another date. and this time, he doesn’t tell kuroo, or his mother, but he doesn’t bring games with him either.

the frozen yogurt place isn’t too crowded on a wednesday night, early enough to still be dinner-time, too late for the afternoon-stragglers to be out and about. he arrives, as he had done, fifteen minutes before you, and he wastes no time in starting a game of snake on his phone.

by the time you get there, it’s getting hard to maneuver the pixel-snake’s body without it’s tail trailing across the entire screen.

“i thought you’d only be into the kind of games with like… a million levels or something.”

your voice jolts him out of his intense concentration, and this time, he does drop his phone. your reach out to catch it with a knowing grin, handing it back to him, but by then, the large GAME OVER is already flashing over the screen.

“oops… sorry,” you say, looking genuinely apologetic.

“don’t be. and you’re right, i do like games with a ton of levels but… things like this are fun once in a while too.”

he blushes as he motions at the space between the pair of you, his phone still clutched in his hand, so that it’s unclear if he’s talking about the game or… something else entirely.

“only once in a while?” you venture, the slightest hint of a tease in your voice. and it’s incredible, he thinks, the change a single week’s worth of familiarity can do for the both of you. because while your first “date” had been all awkward silences and rough, stumbling changes of topic, this one — already — has taken on a sheen of smoothness and liquidity that makes kenma’s skin prickle up with what he can only assume is excitement.

“well… maybe — i dunno…” he gulps as he holds open the door for you to walk into the yogurt store, “it’s only a pattern if something happens more than three times, right?”

and god, where had this come from? this daring, this strange, almost alternate-universe confidence — and is he really flirting?

you let out a pleased sort of hum that warms his entire body and he thinks that he’d rather like to hear that sound again too. to add to his collection of bottle-able sounds that come from your body — he bites off the thought there, because kuroo will really start to call him a pervert then.

“i’m free on saturday,” you say, turning towards him to offer him a yogurt cup.

he stares at it for a second before taking it, letting his fingertips linger where they brush against yours.

“okay then,” he says, allowing himself the shadow of a smile as you ask him what his favorite yogurt flavor is, and he asks you your favorite toppings. and it’s easy like this, isn’t it? how had he ever thought this difficult? had it ever been? the bell-like sonance of your voice, the tinkling texture of your laughter, the great, blossoming fire licking up, up from the base of his stomach all the way to the top of his chest.

why had he ever scorned this as strange? as unnatural?

how could he have ever thought this to be a mere sidequest when this — he’s sure of it now — is the entire point of the game to begin with? because don’t all roads lead to this? to this giddiness and certainty? to this… unshakable knowing that he, even in his youth, is held still by in it’s immensity that this could be something more?

something like… love?

but it’s too early for that yet, and he’s getting ahead of himself. skipping the levels and peering at the walkthroughs.

he forces himself to focus on the tang of the yogurt, the crunch of the oreo chunks. he anchors himself to the grace of your smile and the weight of your laughter.

and after, when the yogurt is done and the night is still young, he offers to walk you home again. and this time, he doesn’t wait for you to close the gap between your bodies — he leans down to do it himself. because somewhere between the space of then and now, he’s made the decision that he doesn’t want the shadow or the just-there-ness anymore. he wants the just and the there. separate and whole and oh.

so that’s where your noses go.

the kiss breaks between you and kenma leans in to unbreak it.

you make a small noise at the back of your throat and he has to keep himself from grinning.

there, again, another bottle-able sound.

he inches his hand up to cup your cheek and you lean into him, pressing both your palms to his chest. and for moments and moments and moments, the pair of you stay locked there, breaking and unbreaking the kiss again and again and again until finally, you press him away to take a breath.

you are breathless, and so is he.

and briefly, oh so briefly, kenma wonders as he looks at you, stares into your eyes as you look back at him, if this could be called dreaming.

“oi… oi kenma-kun?”

kenma blinks, frowning slightly as your face swims into view, his vision catching on the tiny gems glinting from your earlobes.

“h-huh?”

your face is inches from his, and the afternoon sun is warm against his skin. the classroom behind you is filled with the scent of a blossoming spring, trailing into what kenma already knows will be an absolutely sweltering tokyo summer.

your voice rings through him like knowing, and your smile, when he finally focuses on it with bleary eyes and a buzzing mind, looks something like the remnants a dream.

“do you have notes from yesterday’s class? i lent mine to kiyo in 2-b and she says her dog ate it.”

kenma chews on his lips as he weighs the answer on his tongue, and finally, he allows himself a tiny, secret smile as he digs around in his bag for the notebook, handing it to you as he says —

“you don’t actually believe that, do you?”

[seiwas]

*coughs* would just like to say ☝️ that in any moment of danger, kiri does that thing where he steps in front of you and reaches back to kind of cage you against his back while he presses a hand against your lower back to keep you close 🙂‍↕️

[asterlark]

the thing that gets me so much about the storytelling in knives out is that it's a story within a story within a story- or i guess more accurately, it's a story about multiple stories being told and acted in and against each other. ransom/hugh/supreme scumbag wrote the story of harlan's murder and of pinning the crime on marta; meanwhile, harlan wrote the story of what marla would do in the aftermath of his death and the ensuing investigation.

problem for mr. hugh is, marta is not a flat character or a pawn in his game he can manipulate to his will to ensure he gets away scot free (and, to a lesser extent, despite harlan's insistence and marta's best efforts, marta cannot carry out his lie for long during the high-pressure investigation. even when it's in her own best interest to lie, marta cannot and will not be manipulated into telling a false story). marta is a smart and caring human being who has agency in her narrative- and since she is the heroine, the narrative wants her to win, so she has allies like blanc on her side. blanc mostly doesn't interfere with the stories being told, he observes them and then, as he says, strolls leisurely along the real story- the truth's- axis and eventually comes to its inevitable conclusion. this is when he will step in and act upon the narrative, but only to reveal the truth and to ensure the hero gets the rewards they deserve.

on top of all that, it really gets me how there's a very meta framing device of the primary murder victim in this mystery being a famous murder mystery author, and much of the plot revolving around his efforts to author what his loved ones' lives will be like after his death... and the way hugh's murder plot is like something right out of a harlan mystery novel (to the point that harlan, before he realizes he's about to die, makes a point to write down the method of murder as an ingenious way to kill someone)....... and all that isn't even considering all the stories the family members tell themselves and others about their relationship to harlan, how they view the family legacy, etc.

marta is the heroine precisely because she is not trying to tell a false story for her own gain (as the family accuses her of doing after the reading of the will)- she is simply concerned with carrying out her late friend's wishes and doing right by him. she is probably the only person who really knew harlan, the full truth of him, and was his friend without any selfish agenda. she is a good person, a person who would never try to claim another's story as her own, which is exactly why harlan trusted her with his life, his home, and his legacy. he couldn't have known what would happen, but he knew she would do her best to honor his memory after he was gone. ultimately though, no matter who else tried to write or edit it (including harlan), this is marta's story and hers alone to live and change and discover.

this has been a long post already so i'll end it here but suffice it to say that over four years post-release, i'm still so fascinated by the ways these characters actively try to either rewrite the story playing out in front of them, or reveal the truth at the heart of things (as blanc would say, the hole inside of the donut's hole). this movie just makes my storytelling and puzzle-loving nerd heart go BRRRRR

[youhavereachedtheendofpie]

inspired by this post I came across today:

I mean like these things:

[oneluckydragon]

got hit with the echo+sora brainrot so i am once more rambling in your askbox about it. because reasons.

anywho i think there is something truly saddening about echo's struggles to make peace within herself and how she truly finds it hard to find that peace when she is so certain that if the truth about her origins were to be revealed to the world, much less to *sora*, everything she achieved, everything she worked for, all of which matters to her most, will crumble away in a moment's notice.

but the fear of losing all your life's work is none compared to the fear of losing sora. the feeling of poison that settled itself within themselves and between each other out of fear and tragedy of what had happened to them is familiar. echo's resemblance to dusknoir was already enough to set the two off because of how much it had all hurt to see someone you love and yourself turn into a mockery and a splitting image of someone who had pretended to care yet showed he never did at all, but this poison is louder. it hurts to bare, to carry, and to have none but yourself to be its sole holder.

but this poison, this feeling of heartache is different. because whereas the previous pain was something both of them felt, sora was lucky enough to not have known the truth about the person who she cares for so dearly.

echo knows that she used to be darkrai. and it haunts her to have known that her previous incarnation was so *cruel*, all for the sake of it just feeling right. wishing to engulf an entire world in darkness, solely for whatever desire she used to have.

and for how much she knows, how much she will hammer it into her own head that she is *not* like that anymore, that she looks at her past with sneer and disgust and that she will not be the barer of evil anymore, it will not matter in the slightest when she will have to look at sora if she were to ever find out.

how afraid, angry and dejected she would look when finding out, and how she will go on the defense/offense because of how much this will overwhelm her.

because when echo looks at her own shadow, she sees herself for what she is. she knows what she is, be it out of shame or guilt.

but when sora will look at it, she will see a tall, contorting and menacing shadow, towering over with a bright cyan eye doing nothing but looking at her, as if tempting her to make the next move.

and she defends herself. from someone she knows will not harm her. she raises her arms up in self defense from a hand that would never hurt her more than the world has already did.

she knows echo will not hurt her. and thats why she is afraid.

Oh my oh my OH MY, Sinnoh!!! YES YES YES!

HOW!!! IN THE WORLD!!! Are you so good at crawling into my head and creating these vivid analysis/snippets on my OCs??? I've barely shared ANY information about Echo and Sora because I've been wanting to hoard most of my stuff for when my fic is finally finished... but... I think you've broken my resolve a bit, if I'm entirely honest.

You know what? I'm so inspired by your accuracy and eagerness to talk about my girls that I'm gonna forgo my crippling anxiety regarding my writing skills and instead post a snippet of my WIP fic here as a treat for you. A teaser, if you will. Since I have no idea when the fic in question will actually be done and ready (or when I will be satisfied with it, cause the thing is currently 36,000 words and still slowly climbing). And now you've got me eager to share SOMETHING of my fic with you and anyone that might want to take a peek at it.

Please enjoy this conversation between Dusknoir and Echo. The topic deals a lot with what you'd described up above!! c:

[Note: this is an unedited part of my fic because I am still in the process of writing and it may change in the future, so please be gentle w/ me but I'd love to read any thoughts/comments that pop up while reading!! pls send asks or replies or anything really cause I love you guys]

+++ +++ +++ +++ +++ +++ +++ +++ +++ +++ +++ +++ +++ +++

“I’m going to tell you something now, and you are going to listen.” Echo commands with a sharp bite in her voice that Dusknoir cannot fathom ignoring. He pauses and then offers a slow nod, waiting, wondering what she could possibly desire to tell him at a time like this, of all things.

Minutes pass as Echo remains rooted in place, still as her own shadow, and her eyes dart around as she stares at the patches of dry grass and sand beneath her paws. Her claws clench and unclench, digging into the earth like daggers as the wind of the forest (it’s trees so close, just behind them, a looming sort of presence that could engulf them whole) whistles through the surrounding branches, carrying stray leaves of many bright greens through the chilling breeze. Dusknoir watches them dance around Echo, twirling, floating down, down, down… but it’s quiet, too quiet, and Dusknoir feels a shiver pass through him when Echo’s voice finally rings out through the silence.

"When I evolved, Sora was petrified," She says, nearly a whisper, an admission that melts away her confidence and appears to bring her a flood of both shame and regret. Her face twists up then, strangely, like she’d felt a twinge of pain from somewhere deep inside the very fabric of her own soul and was unable to quell it. "She couldn’t even bring herself to look at me most days. At first, my appearance… well, it reminded her too much of you. And eventually of someone I used to be.”

Someone I used to be. At that, Dusknoir’s immediate reaction is to recall Echo’s previous life as a human, as the miserable shell of a creature surviving alongside Grovyle that he’d relentlessly hunted in the dark future. A human made of contempt and anger and apathy, who never smiled or laughed or cried or screamed like the old legends said humans would-- an entity that simply existed rather than lived. An echo of a life long dead and buried. But, judging by her tone, by her voice, by some uneasy intuition itching in the back of his mind like a swarm of pestilent Ninjask… he knows that she means something else entirely. Something that she isn’t willing to share. And frankly, that concept utterly terrifies him.

Someone I used to be. Dusknoir wants to speak, to break his own silence, wants to ask the myriad of questions bubbling up in his throat because this isn't the first time she's hinted at another life beyond being human, but those questions die at the source like a flame doused in water. And always the coward, coward, coward, instead he takes the easy way out by doing nothing at all. Whether Echo notices his surge of inner conflict or not-- the nervous wring of his hands and the tremble in his spine that he cannot control under her gaze-- she does not react.

“I’d take a step and Sora would flinch away.” Echo confesses, her markings flickering with light before going dark and dead, as if her body wished to snuff them out entirely, a deep seated rejection, a self-loathing so strong that Dusknoir cannot help but recognize it and empathize, and his heart aches, “It took ages for her to stop shaking when I’d speak. To stop looking at me like-- like I was going to…” 

Echo grimaces like she’s enduring waves of grueling torture and doesn’t finish that string of thought, but it’s not hard to make an educated guess on what went unsaid. Like I was going to betray her. Hurt her. Break her heart. She’s been through so much already and I couldn’t bear to be another influence in the history of her suffering. I hate myself because of how I made her feel. When her eyes went wide in fear and through them I could see myself staring back like some sort of burden, some sort of curse.

“I am not my past.” Proud and true, Echo straightens up and holds her head high, a spark igniting in her eyes, a glint of determination, a will to keep going and going despite such circumstances and strife, despite this horrid, unspeakable past that haunts her so, “And I am definitely not you. It’s taken a while, but I know that much now. I’ve accepted it.”

I am not my past. And I am definitely not you.

A sigh, a breath, and Echo glances at him with a certain sorrow that cannot be described, a sorrow that lingers even through the veil of her tenacity, "But no matter how I feel, no matter my conviction, my shadows still find ways through the cracks. Every time I think I'm getting a grip and that I might finally understand myself… I change all over again." She admits, sounding more angry and tired than defeated now-- like a mirror of her old self, her human self that had clawed and damned and cursed him, despised him more than anything. "I hate it. I hate that I never truly know who I am. That I have to learn about my past through stories others tell me, or through fragments of twisted, broken memories that I wouldn't wish on anyone. Through conflict and pain and… and..."

"Echo," Dusknoir murmurs her name softly, an offering, a potential escape if only she would wish to drop the subject and forget this conversation had ever happened-- if she'd overstepped and needed an excuse to back out, a diversion, an understanding. And briefly, Dusknoir wonders why she is opening up about this particular information, why she would delve into something so vulnerable, so personal. Why she would bring up this hurtful history when it obviously brings her great discomfort.

And then, he gets an answer.

“You’re lucky, Dusknoir." There it is, that wildfire burning in her eyes again. A spark that’s new and bold and startling. But lucky? No, never. He'd have to disagree, accounting the mountain of evidence that was his life and regrettable deeds.

"You already know exactly who you are and what you’ve done, and most importantly why. You have more than a tattered picture of yourself that reflects broken answers. And you can change with that knowledge. I see you trying.” She tells him, searching, looking for something so deeply and Dusknoir wishes he knew what it could be so that he could give it to her, because he would, he would gladly give it to her without a second thought if it meant they could be close again. But he isn’t a fool, and he’s wise enough to know they’ll never be like they were before. “And if somehow I could change, even as half-assed as I have. Well, then what’s your excuse?”

You can do it, say her unspoken words, I believe in you.

[roscoehamiltons]

Silly Season 2024 Predictions

aka predicting how the grid will look for 2025:

red bull: max verstappen, daniel ricciardo

mercedes: george russell, fernando alonso (or alex albon, if fernando remains at aston martin)

ferrari: lewis hamilton(!!!), charles leclerc

mclaren: lando norris, oscar piastri

aston martin: lance stroll, yuki tsunoda (or fernando alonso, if he doesn't go to mercedes)

alpine: esteban ocon, pierre gasly

williams: kimi antonelli, alex albon (or valtteri bottas, if alex goes to mercedes)

visa cash grab rb: liam lawson, sergio perez (or yuki tsunoda, if he doesn't go to aston martin)

sauber: carlos sainz jr, nico hulkenberg

haas: ollie bearman, kevin magnussen (or zhou guanyu, if kevin retires)

thoughts, explanations (and a lot of babbling) under the cut:

red bull: maybe i'm delulu for thinking daniel to red bull will still happen lol but it makes perfect sense on paper-- daniel's already familiar with the team and works well with them, he has support from the higher ups, he's a marketing dream, he has a similar driving style and preference to max...

also i know there have been rumours about alex going to red bull again but i don't think he'll do it in the end.

mercedes: i want it to be fernando that replaces lewis bc it would bring the most chaos and drama lol, but it's also a decision that actually makes sense? swapping a world champion with another world champion, and one that isn't likely to want to stay long term (5-10 years)? i guess this is dependent on how both mercedes and aston do this year but 🙏 pls make it happen lol

alex is my second choice for the seat if fernando doesn’t take it. i started making my predictions before james confirmed that alex was signed to williams for 2025, but even with that news, i still think it's a possibility he could go to mercedes. there's been so many whispers in the press about alex wanting to either leave williams or getting offers from top teams, that i can't help but think that alex is trying to gun for a top seat.. and mercedes is his best choice for a top seat imo. not to mention that james did say that he wouldn't stop alex from leaving if he wanted to, and of course the ties with mercedes that james and williams have... it would be easy for them to do some negotiations and make it happen. also i'm sure that george would put in a good word for alex, if alex was interested.

also some honourable mentions, because there's a lot of possibilities to consider: everyone is talking about kimi antonelli and mercedes and i do think that they're going to try and push him into f1 as soon as they can.. i just don't know if they'll take the risk of putting him in the merc seat right away. i'm really interested to see how he does in f2 either way-- if he's as good as everyone says then the results will speak for themselves. i think esteban is a good option too; he's a solid driver (and underrated imo), and more importantly he has ties to merc and toto. if merc wants a more short term option then carlos is a good choice, though it's more likely he would go to sauber. as for mick, i don't think that he's merc's first (or even second or third) choice for the seat, unfortunately for him and the mick girlies. lastly, this one is a bit random but nico hulkenberg also came to mind as a solid short term option (plus, he's german).

ferrari: still can’t believe lewis is going to be driving for them.

mclaren: no notes, very solid pairing.

aston martin: i think the lineup will stay the same if fernando doesn’t want to move to mercedes. i suppose there’s a chance that the rumours about lance going to wec could be true but we will see.

if fernando does go to mercedes then yuki is probably the most obvious choice as his replacement. i also think it’s in yuki's best interest in the long term to leave the red bull family, and this would probably be the best opportunity to do so.

i was actually initially considering checo as the driver to replace fernando — they have history after all, and checo seems to love the team. however, thinking about it, 2023 really took a hit to his reputation as a driver and I don’t know if aston would want him back anyways? i think checo would absolutely reach out to them though if the seat opens up, i think he’s going to try and stay on the grid if it's possible.

alpine: i think both will stay, but if one was to leave it would probably be este (to mercedes?) rather than pierre. if he were to go then jack doohan would be the likely replacement, maybe victor martins if his results in f2 are good.

williams: like i said earlier, i think mercedes is going to try and get kimi into f1 asap, even if he doesn't win f2, and aside from merc itself, williams is the most likely option for that to happen. alex will stay if he doesn’t get the mercedes seat—the supposed red bull offer doesn't start until 2026 and i don’t think he would break his contract to go to aston or alpine.

as for who would replace alex if he does go to mercedes, i would love for it to be valtteri. i stole this idea from @velvetsainz actually, but the more i think about it, the more i like it... the idea of valtteri and james on the same team again tickles me and valtteri is a fantastic mentor (as evidenced by his relationship with guanyu). also i'm fairly certain that toto is back on valtteri's management team again so i can see toto mentioning valtteri as an option for williams in their negotations for the hypothetical alex to mercedes move. is this likely this is to happen, idk, because valtteri did pick sauber over williams in 2021 for a reason but a girl can dream lol

visa cash grab rb: this one was the one i probably struggled with the most ngl.. i think liam is definitely going to be in f1 in 2025 (and deservedly so) but the question of who's going to be in the other seat.. the three main options would be yuki, checo and daniel (if daniel remains at visa instead of moving up, either checo stays at red bull or yuki is the one getting promoted). i originally had the lineup as yuki and liam (and checo at aston martin) but ended up switching yuki and checo around in the end. if checo does end up retiring at the end of this year and yuki goes off to aston then i'm not sure who would replace him..maybe ayumu iwasa? i looked at their list of juniors and am not really familiar with anyone besides him tbh

sauber: this one pains me because i'm a huge fan of both valtteri and guanyu, and they're actually my favorite pairing, in terms of overall vibes and personality... but i would be (very pleasantly) surprised if they both manage to stay at sauber next year. i think it's a given that carlos is going to go to sauber now that he isn't with ferrari, especially with his ties his dad has to audi. i also think sauber/audi would want to start preparing for 2026 and they would also want a german driver to drive for them, hence nico hulkenberg (plus the rumours that they were interested in hulkenberg last year, but ended up renewing guanyu instead).

there's a chance that one of the current drivers could stay, which in that case it would likely be valtteri (with carlos as his teammate, rather than nico). they could also promote theo pourchaire to f1, but i think it's likely they would stick to established drivers, especially during the first couple of years that audi settle in.

haas: the new haas tp has spoken very highly of ollie and with the amount of free practice sessions they have scheduled for ollie this year, it wouldn't surprise me if they're trying to get him on the grid. i know some people think that kevin might retire after this year, but i think they would like to keep one of the current drivers since the last time they had two new drivers didn't go well 😬. on the chance that kevin does end up retiring, i think guanyu is a good shout for a replacement. it might seem a bit random but he's a consistent driver who rarely crashes and more importantly, brings a lot of money and sponsorship, which haas needs.

[mulders-too-large-shirt]

s4 episode 5 thoughts

i’m back. i’m back and i’m intrigued. because i'm reading the episode description, and if we get more mulder ex lore here, which the episode description makes it sound like we will, i am… not sure how i will feel on the subject. the term “reincarnation” makes it sound like whoever it was… died. did an ex of his die? and that is a lot of mulder marked by pain and suffering. and maybe i’m getting ahead of myself. but the writers KNOW we want our agents to smooch, so focusing on an ex might make me, the viewer, feel weird. i just need to get all these thoughts out in writing before we begin.

how is he gonna tell if someone is a reincarnated lover? or am i misunderstanding this entirely. 

only one way to find out

author’s note: oh my gosh…… nothing could have prepared me for this. at all. here i was thinking it was ex lore time, but it was past life time, and there are TEARS in my eyes.

(serious author's note: i ask for some grace in this episode recap. there may be some things i word poorly. i am familiar with the terminology used to describe DID, and did my best, but acknowledge that i may have come up short. please understand that this is intended to capture my live reactions to what i was seeing for the very first time. at times here, there are no reactions, just a sort of a nebulous recapping of what i saw because i was feeling So Many Things. so this one might be messy, and i hope that is okay. i don't understand what i am feeling, but i am feeling a Lot of it, and humbly ask for your patience in my clumsy wording as well as some helpful discussion on what just went down)

let us begin, i type as i sniff up some tears

we open with mulder in a field… is he reciting poetry? and looking very sad. 

wait, is he not actually reciting poetry and he just talks like that? while holding two pictures of old timey people. i’d guess civil war era.

okay. so now we jump right to the intro. that was quick. i’m still processing what we just saw because we were really dropped into that one with no context whatsoever.

federal agents break into a temple in tennessee. they’re looking for illegal firearms! and a guy named ephesian.

but mulder sees a window… and he is staring at it… walking out the door as if led by some sort of spiritual quest while scully yells his name and wonders wtf he’s doing. he is not responding to her at all, but she’s chasing after him because she is a good friend.

so he’s hearing things while scully is pulling her gun out, and it does appear that he found a trapdoor!

he busts in, and slaps some poison out of the hand of a woman who was taking sips, and then grabs the dude who i assume is the cult leader. whew… that was close

now they’re at some sort of meeting, listening to tapes, and skinner is here!!! hiiii skinner. everybody say hi skinner!

so, someone on the tape seems to be whistleblowing on this cult- the seven stars or something- saying that the leader is hurting children and stockpiling weapons. mulder looks incredibly pensive during all of this.

oh! someone refers to mulder as “our man spooky”, which is kind of hilarious, while complaining that the reports were weak. scully leans in and asks yeah, how did he know that? while the men are fighting.

and skinner yells KNOCK IT OFF!!!! because the folks at the compound were somehow able to hide all the evidence before they got there, and now they’re forced to hold ephesian and “his wives” on “BS charges”. so now the agents MUST find evidence of firearms and who the informant was NOW because they will try to get an arraignment fast.

woah. no pressure.

skinner comes over talk to mulder and scully- they must look into this ephesian fellow's claims of supernatural abilities. scully says he can use the book of revelations to manipulate his followers, but seems to suspect no real powers. 

they to talk to this ephesian fellow, who says he knew for 9 centuries that scully was coming, and starts going on about the bible, quoting stuff. very scary behavior.

mulder comes in with the fact check. jesus said that at smyrna, not about some church in tennessee! (his knowledge…. it always impresses me)

this dude is being super creepy, telling them to put aside their investigation “for your own souls”, because soon all unfaithful shall “be destroyed by God’s mighty men”. so this is some pretty standard cult rhetoric here. if you've studied religions, you've heard this one many times. it seems that ephesian thinks he and his people shall be the ones doing this violence. a tight zoom in on mulder’s troubled face as he quotes more scripture.

they have 6 wives to question, and mulder says to start with one in particular. interesting… i wonder why that one. is it because she was the one they caught ephesian with in the hidden area... or something more?

her name is melissa, and she says she’s 25 as she smokes a cigarette and dodges their questions. she’s been at the compound and married to ephesian for a year. 

mulder asks if it troubles her that ephesian has so many other wives, and she just recites scripture instead of answering. so scully comes in with the “i’d have a tough time if my husband had so many children with other women”. this seems to begin to get her to crack, as she tears up.

wait... it’s so wrong to hear scully call someone else, who isn't her sister, melissa :(

melissa she doesn’t have any children with ephesian yet... because he has to wait for God to tell him that the right soul is ready to be reincarnated, which is why his children are the most sacred members of the temple. naturally, of course /s

things get quiet when they ask if he had been hurting the children until melissa starts talking with a very different voice and set of mannerisms, and she no longer replies to the name melissa. so scully scrawls “multiple personality” in her loopy handwriting and passes it over to mulder. oh! is this sydney?

(at this point, i shall begin to refer to sydney with he/him pronouns, as this is what mulder does. normally i would stick to my journalistic integrity and keep reporting the things i wrote down incorrectly while watching the episode, but i'm trying to be very respectful- i hope you understand)

but mulder writes back to scully no, this is not a multiple personality case, it's a past life case! his handwriting is very blocky. to prove his point, he asks sydney who the current president is, and he responds that it is harry truman. ah. so, he's a few years off.

mulder claims that “somehow he just knew” sydney was melissa's past life, which doesn’t reveal a lot, but his eyes are very soulful and i want to hold his hand.

skinner says they need to find something to get this case moving forward, and mulder is like dude, we found sydney, the voice matched! i would agree with his judgement that this in fact a sizeable discovery.

mulder is saying that what they have seen matches the criteria of DID in the DSM4 (woah, need to look up when we switched to 5), but scully is saying that some people don’t even think it exists as a condition, and skinner thinks it could be a trap to buy more time for ephesian. so no one is in agreement here.

but mulder is going into his psychology expert mode and is making a very compelling case that this is an example of DID, particularly in the fact that sydney emerged when the topic of child abuse came up, which fulfilled the protector role. scully wants to know more before giving any sort of diagnosis, but she doesn't seem opposed to the hypothesis.

(skinner seems to fumble over which pronouns to use for each personality here)

skinner says to go ahead and take her back to the compound and see if it gets any results in prompting memories that could be useful to the investigation, but scully is mad at mulder! he didn’t even have the courage to tell skinner he thinks they're dealing with past lives here! mulder, who is usually so brave!!

he mumbles that skinner wouldn’t believe him. which is true.

woah, i don’t know how to interpret this line here, so i’ll just write it down for further analysis:

“i don’t believe that you feel responsible for those 50 lives. or melissa reidel. you are only responsible to yourself, mulder”

(is she saying he doesn’t care about those 50 people?? is she saying he has an ulterior motive? is she calling him a liar, and that he is using this case to gain support for his supernatural ideas?? is she calling him selfish? or is she trying to tell him that he can only be responsible for himself and control his own actions, that he cannot place the burden of saving everyone upon his shoulders? is she berating or reassuring him or both? does she think he isn't serious about the lives in danger?)

i can’t figure it out, but he gets up and leaves. (after watching the episode, i still can't figure it out- what did you think?)

so they take melissa back to the temple, and scully asks her to recall the painful memories so they can keep herself and others safe. it is very tense as she walks into a bedroom and sees many photos on the wall of ephesian and his wives. she knocks some of them over and starts crying.

scully still looks furious with mulder. it's as if she thinks his desire for supernatural entities to be proven comes ahead of his desire to save actual lives, and it's recalling her comparison to ahab during the conversation on the rock. she must feel that there is no time for this, that they need to get concrete answers right away or horrible things will happen; perhaps she thinks he isn't focused, is being fanciful. and i understand the pressure of a ticking clock, but after so long, this rift between them, it doesn't feel right.

oh my goodness, we see some horrific artwork on the wall by the kids at the temple. woah. shoutout to the set design team.

melissa is in the playroom sobbing, but asks why she is being called melissa. scully asks what she should call her, and that is how we meet lily. but lily isn’t there for very long before sydney comes back, saying to “leave the kid alone”. mulder says they can all be safe if they just are told where the guns are. then melissa seems to come back, and she goes back out the window where mulder was staring earlier!!! what does this window know?!?

and the score here is really pretty as she walks outside, scully following behind her. mulder is clearly unwell, though, and scully asks what is wrong, which he ignores and walks past her. typical him.

a new alter of melissa's seems to front, now with a southern accent, saying the guns are in a bunker. but… it’s the civil war she’s talking about. she was a nurse, looking for someone who was staying in tennessee. and she found that someone here, dead. then she was hidden in a bunker while the battle raged above her. it is very horrific, what she is describing.

she clarifies that she was there in november 1863, then turns to mulder and says “as were you”. he doesn’t seem shocked by this, but scully is, as this new southern belle proclaims “this is the field where i watched you die” OH!

(mulder, a confederate in a past life… this is deeply unfortunate)

mulder is trying to make a phone call to a hypnotist while they drive melissa back to the police station, but scully figures out he’s trying to do past life regression on her and says not to. and that her life is in shreds, and that is too much for her to handle. i hate to say it, but i agree with her. melissa has been through so much, and with such a tight deadline, i don't know if they have time for such a journey.

OH! mulder is angry. his voice is all growly as he yells “YOU WERE THERE, SCULLY! you saw it, you heard it, why can’t you feel it?” oh my gosh… the way he slammed his hand on the wheel... why can't she see it, it seems so obvious to him... how infuriating it must be...

scully asks why ephesian is a paranoid sociopath for claiming to be in greece years ago, but he isn’t for claiming to have died in that field……. damn…….

(idk what’s going on here between them exactly but i’m stressed. they are stressing me out)

(at this point, we begin a sequence in which i am so enraptured with what is going on, i have no reactions to all of the things i am seeing, and just recount them to you, with occasional interjections of "oh my god"- but i think if you've seen the episode, you get why it had this effect on me)

so they do get a therapist, who is talking to melissa. she begins to answer the therapist's questions about seeing anything upsetting at the compound, talking about a woman named elizabeth and her son scott, who came to live in the temple. and ephesian took the son away. but ephesian caught his mother visiting her son, and “the mighty men” beat her, which brings melissa to tears as she recounts this. and he hit the boy, calling him garbage, beating him.

scully looks very stressed in the background to hear all of this, but sydney is now fronting at this point, saying to leave melissa alone, and that the guns are in the bunkers… somewhere. where they are is a mystery, though.

scully leans down to mulder and says that maybe there is a map somewhere, but mulder says she knows where to find them. and at this she says “mulder…” in a very breathy fashion and i still can’t quite articulate what is going on between them…. but he’s going in.

he says it’s me, melissa, and asks her to go back to the field. “your eyes may have changed shade, but it cannot color the soul behind them”, she says. that they are only to meet in passing in this life. and she misses him. he just stared and stares, before his head falls into his hands

scully is trying to explain to him that this is a product of melissa's illness, and she can’t give any specifics- no names or locations, and they don’t have time to do this, because ephesian’s arraignment is in two hours.

“wouldn’t you, scully? wouldn’t anybody?” <- oh my god…. is he compelled by a terrible sense of duty or by his own curiosity? is she scared to watch him go down this path he cannot return from?

okay, so now he is going back into his past lives. this sequence is almost entirely a close up of his face, for minutes on end, which adds to the intensity. he's really panting as he remembers. “ghetto streets. shattered glass. bodies of the dead. a jewish woman. poland.” oh my god…… 

he says that he is samantha’s mother in this life; “in this life, she is my son”

his father is dead, and… HIS FATHER IS SCULLY? WHAT? i didn’t see that coming. she’s troubled by this, all of this, not just learning he believes her soul to have been his father before.

but he says that his father is waiting now for their souls to come back together, different, but always together, again and again, to learn.

and he is crying. he can’t go to his father. a gestapo man is there, and he is cancer man; “evil returns as evil, but love… souls mate eternal”. and his wife is melissa, who is taken away to the camps. and he’s crying, and scully is watching with great concern.

now, he’s rising above the field, near the bunker. and his sergeant is also dead, and “he is scully”, and we cut to her face of increasing sadness. sarah holds him, who is melissa. she is sarah kavanaugh, and he is sullivan biddle. she doesn’t know that he’s waiting for her, that they will live again. 

scully tries to ask if he sees any bunkers, but he keeps saying his soul is tired, and he wants to rest.

and this is devastating. it was if i was the one undergoing the hypnosis here. i couldn't look away, i couldn't react, i was so entirely absorbed and confused and busy feeling things.

scully is consulting a map in the town records to try and find this bunker where the weapons are stored, and then she looks up the names he mentioned. sure enough, they are in the county records. then she reaches for some photos, where she finds one of sullivan and sarah. 

a lot of things are being processed in her brain, so we might need to give her a minute. i think we can see some long-held systems of belief being challenged in her mind.

but she brings him back the photos of their past lives, even as she is telling him that ephesian is going to be released soon. why would she do this? to comfort him? to validate him without using words?

oh my god, mulder just called her “dana”. wait. hold on. oh my god, hold on.

“dana, if, um… early in the four years we’ve been working together… an event occurred that suggested or somebody told you that… we’d been friends together in other lifetimes- always- wouldn’t it have changed some of the ways we looked at one another?”

“even if i knew for certain, i wouldn’t change a day”

WAUGHHHHHHHH (ripping my clothes off in grief) WAOUGHHHHHH wouavhhhghhhh……… she wouldn’t change a day….

(and what event was it that he is referring to? is there a certain one...? am i forgetting something from early s1...? damn you, my obsessive note-taking impulses, for not kicking into gear until s2...)

“well… maybe that flukeman thing, i could have lived without that just fine” HDHJSNSME he smiles as she leaves….

(i had to google what that even was because i was like ??? but the flukeman was the season 2 sewer baby!!! for those of you who are going into this whole thing blind and also don't know what the fandom calls stuff! i think to me he was "baby sewer mermaid" or something along those lines... but now we know)

so now he and melissa are in the room together, trying to recall. she says she wants to believe (!!!), and he’s rubbing her hand, but ephesian comes in, saying it’s time to leave. so she rips the photo in half and leaves crying. 

does he know he was supposed to love her? is he mourning that he hasn't? is he wondering if he has time to?

mulder gets up, and leans his head against the wall. scully comes in to say that they are still searching for more bunkers as the temple people return to their home. there is a deep sense of grief.

ephesian seems suspicious. 

mulder is talking to skinner, saying that those in the temple believe that the FBI are the devil’s army, prophesied to be defeated by the armies of god. but ephesian must not really believe that, because he hid the weapons. mulder emphasizes that he may “deny himself”.

back at the compound, all the members are being called to worship. the music is getting scary, and guns are being pulled out. 

scully looks up some bible verses and realizes that ephesian is calling his members to the end of times, which gives skinner the go ahead to launch a raid.

back at the compound, the poison is being distributed to the members of the temple. and a few are shooting at the agents outside, and mulder and scully pull up as the sipping of the poison begins inside. 

NO! mulder puts his hands up and begins to walk into the compound!!!!! WHAT IS HE DOING!!! scully shouts out that he is dead. as we see inside there are piles and piles of bodies, including melissa.

but wait! is she still alive???? she’s getting up!!! 

but no! ephesian is still there watching her. giving her poison to take. mulder is running in as fast as he can, trying to figure out what is going on. and he finds the room full of the bodies while gregorian chanting is in the background. 

he finds melissa, with no pulse, holding onto the photo she had torn. 

scully sees him touching her arm, raising his eyes and crying. 

we end where we began, with him in the field, holding the pictures of his and melissa’s past lives. 

end episode. 

what…..

first thoughts: i don’t quite know what to make of this, but i can tell it is going to tear me apart for the rest of my life.

second and third thoughts are also variations of my first thought.

i feel so sad? to know that mulder has (or thinks he has) lived these horrific past lives, and that he is reunited with the same people over and over again, to learn and lose them. and that scully was there with all of them- but so was melissa, and he said that soulmates are eternal, so if that is true he lost his for this life. and he said he was so tired, so tired... how can he escape the eternal cycle of samsara?

and scully, watching all of this- what did she mean when she said that he wasn't responsible for anything but himself? was it an insult? was she begging him? what was she feeling when she heard him talk about her being there in his past? was she trying to hurt him in their conversation in the car? will they ever actually be able to see eye to eye? does she believe him? can she? how does hearing all of this shake her own faith?

can you have many soulmates that come with you again and again, just in different forms? so would his soulmates be scully, and his mother and father and sister, and this melissa figure? and what are the implications of losing a soulmate in this world? is that a life of feeling that something is missing, until death? do they shuffle roles, but come again and again? is that comforting or horrific? are we to believe him?

and that terrible, terrible ending, him finding the bodies... how are we supposed to interpret that? just more grief on top of already endless grief? or are we supposed to see the poetry moment as an answer to a question that provides relief, even if it is bittersweet?

why did he want to know so badly? was he driven by duty to save? duty to find the Truth? duty to protect his loved ones and seek cosmic answers? are these separate things, or are they all intertwined in him?

i'm... really going to have to think this one over. i would really appreciate hearing your thoughts, as well. i wish i had a solid interpretation. it was very serious and sad, and it was bittersweet but filled with grief. i once again echo my earlier request for fluff. but how do you go back to the way things were once he says she was with him in every life? how does scully rationalize that? what are they to each other?

i'm pondering. it feels like something has shifted. and you can't go back now, even if i can't pinpoint what it is that changed.

i want to go back to daydreaming about apple cider dates. but it feels like you can't, you know? huh.

[drzibs]

small theory…… or perhaps an obvious statement:

is torbek getting more confident bc he lost the 5+ years of torment and experimentation, as well as attacking the party in twig’s inn? like he doesnt have that frame of reference to influence his choices anymore right? is he starting to listen to the duke in his head?

like i can totally see him being hesitant to question kremy, until theres something in the back of his mind saying “are you just going to keep listening to him torbek? he got you all into this situation because of his deals. why should he be calling the shots?”

he doesn’t know to be afraid of it anymore. maybe he just thinks its him now.

[delusinaldreamer19]

Every day I wake up and eagerly check my notifications to see if I got any comments on Ao3

[verdantdaises]

There’s nothing funnier in the world to me than when people expend the time and energy into interacting with media they don’t like—

[moonsnqil]

as someone who was in my school's band for 3 years these are my hcs on what the foxes would play: kevin on trumpet, neil on trombone, andrew on percussion, allison on clarinet, renee on french horn, aaron on sax, dan on percussion, matt on tuba, nicky on baritone, (seth played tuba until he quit)

[willowser]

one of those crazy girls by paramore except it's gojo