#so it might not be the worst thing to take april off and remove that stressor

[whentherewerebicycles]

ruthie slowly realizing I have the front camera turned on 😂 this dog hates being photographed!

we were up for a bit at 5 but it was too early and I was sleeepy so ended up dozing for another hour or two. rainy morning here. I’m trying to really savor the cozy snuggly days as life is about to get so hectic for me:

I’m in pittsburgh friday morning through monday night (YAYYY) attending two weekend games and hanging out with bec!!!

I have tuesday to run errands and do laundry before my mom arrives wednesday

we leave early thursday morning for 14 days in japan and korea, during which we are hitting tokyo, osaka, kyoto, nara, mt koya, hiroshima, miyajima island, fukuoka, busan, daegu, and /seoul… I’m soooo psyched but also 🫠 it’s gonna be a whirlwind and I still have to do quite a bit of prep to be ready

we get home on a wed, I have thurs to recover from jetlag slash finalize my job talk, and then friday is the all-day campus visit

THEN I leave sat morning for houston and get back late monday night

it’s gonna be a lot!!! so very okay to be slothful this weekend and for as much of next week as I can manage I think. I am building up my reserves of rest and solitude lol.

mmkay. tonight I am having dinner + watching tár with mary later (and maybe seeing my sister at some point in the afternoon tbd) but the morning is my own! no pressure to get anything done in particular but here are some options:

could do more campus visit research for fun! my first gen programming book is arriving sometime today so I could read that and take notes, or I could spend some more time working through these articles I pulled up on designing programming for transfer students. I was also thinking it might be fun to create some one-page idea/vision/notes docs by hand on various topics—I feel like writing by hand will reinforce my memory of key details, and then making decisions about how I want to visually organize/arrange content will be a good exercise in synthesizing what I’ve learned. lol even as I’m typing this out I’m like ‘OOOOH that sounds like fun!!!!’ so I guess I’ll probably do that.

my former student is calling me at some point today to talk about transfer students’ experiences. he’s around my age (went back to undergrad after serving in the military for a long time) and is fun to talk to because he’s super smart and just like… more of a fully formed person and professional than the college-age kids. so that will be fun and should give me some useful threads to follow in my research. 

pick up my CVS prescription

hmm maybe I’ll put my laundry in right now? I also want to change linens/towels. I cleaned most of the house yesterday so don’t have much else to do in the way of chores… and I have a bunch of leftovers to finish before I’m allowed to make anything else so no cooking to do today either.

if it clears up I’ll go for a shorter long walk (the hourlong loop?) unless it’s really nice and I feel like doing the 90+ min trek again. not gonna let myself run today though—I can tell I pushed it a bit yesterday with the long fast walk + running two days in a row at a quicker clip than usual. just a little bit of achiness!

I finished a novel yesterday and want to start the next one today so I don’t break stride, but that can wait till before bed unless I’m moved to read earlier.

mmkay I think that’s it! take it easy and do fun relaxing stuff today.

[minsungchronology]

My Personal Opinions on Minsung's Dynamic (2022)

Disclaimer: I am not trying to pass off my opinions as facts. This is my personal interpretation of what is laid out right in front of us. I could be completely off base because I don’t know these guys personally, so take this with a grain of salt and feel free to disagree!

UHHH???

WHAT THE HELL IS IN THE AIR THIS YEAR??

I kept on saying that to myself as I kept collecting more and more clips to add to the video. They’re so sweet and gross and flirty, it’s adorable.

If you’ve watched the previous years, think for a second and compare their interactions from 2018-2021 to 2022. Whenever the two of them would be on screen at times I'd be like “Am I interrupting something??”.  At times you’d see them in the background and they’d be doing their own little thing. I can’t even describe it, but the way they look at and naturally gravitate towards each other is something else (there's an insane amount of this during the Maniac tour). They have so much fun with each other.

I think at this point, most of the self-consciousness has dwindled away. They are older, more experienced, and they are probably more than aware of what they can or can’t get away with on camera at this point.

I’ve also said before in my 2018 video that Lee Know was easy to read, but that kind of tapered off in subsequent years. However, I think “open-book” Lee Know makes a swift return this year. He has the worst poker face when it comes to Han lmfao. LK is as “cat” as a human can get, but he has such puppy/golden-retriever energy around Han.

There’s so many moments throughout this year where he’s like 😊 🥰. I can’t possibly talk about all of them. If I took a shot every time it happened, I wouldn’t be here to type this out. The man is so bad at hiding it. The SKZ Talker where Han sings with the flower in his hair and the way LK is caught staring at him as he sings along gets me in shambles.

Lee Know is also caught "slipping up". A moment that comes to mind is when he stuttered out “sexy” as Han was fighting the back pain demons on the concert floor. Yay intrusive thoughts.

Also, the SKZ talker episode with the MAMA awards. THE FACE LK makes for a split second when he finds out Han is rooming with Felix before he basically “interrogates” him about it during the “interview” they have.

Han is caught "slipping up" too. I've noticed he doesn't do it as much. He seems more careful and harder to read, while Lee "Your Body Moves First Before You Think" Know is more (carefree?) about things.

The “In Your eyes” POV video and the Studio Choom behind from Maxident era come to mind.

Then in one of their step-out videos (LK had the pink/light purple hair and they were announcing the world tour). Han places his hand on LK’s butt and starts doing…something to it (that’s between him and God). LK starts smiling for a bit before forcefully removing Han’s arm. Then Han literally bites his lip. IN A STEP OUT VIDEO??? They’re so shameless dskjhskdjfhk

Subtle moments like these are the most telling and eyebrow raising things in my opinion, cause you can’t really explain them away. And these are just a few of them. There’s a lot more this year, but I’d be writing this forever if I mentioned them all.

My personal opinion:

I think they became more than platonic this year, post-Oddinary era and pre-Maniac tour (the beginning of it at latest). If someone asked me to guess a specific time, it would probably be April to May-ish. There’s a noticeable shift in their behavior from then on if you watch everything sequentially.

As for their two-kids room. I have a lot of opinions on that.

They are soooo much more confident here than in their 2018 one.

Like…watch them back-to-back. They’ve come so far.

Imagine “Feelings” Lee Know from 2018 getting to see his 2022 self and 2022 Han interact.

This might be reaching, but I think the other members (and themselves) sometimes allude to these two having feelings that go beyond platonic without having to explicitly state it for obvious reasons. Like they are trying to skirt around that, but at the same time imply that “yes, these two are very special to each other”. The language and analogies they use throughout the 2KR episode really make me raise my eyebrows.

As I’ve learned more about Minsung’s dynamic/as well as making this video, I think these two have a lot of parallels to MeI B and Geri from the Spice GirIs. If you know, you know. I vaguely remember someone (who personally knew the group) implying almost the same type of thing about them years ago (something along the lines of them having a very "interesting"/special bond).

I’ve also found it interesting how they mention (multiple times!) although LK is the Hyung, Han is able to rein him back in. Whenever that happens, LK immediately just…becomes pliant?? Like???? What????

You can actually see some instances of that in previous years (the 2021 car Vlive where LK has the napkin on his face comes to mind. He immediately takes it off after Han tells him to), but it's more noticeable this year. (I.e: LK immediately wanting to let go of Changbin’s hand as soon as Han expresses his displeasure when before LK was perfectly okay doing it?? ????? Another actual eyebrow raising moment for me.) This is a guy who comes across as a more dominant type of personality so this really threw me off lmfaooo. This is one of the reasons why I find their dynamic so interesting, but I feel like it’s not talked about enough????

Plus, LK looking at Han like he grew two heads before Han has to specifically clarify that he sees him as an “older person” rather than an “older brother”. LK has absolutely no problem with other members (i.e: Felix) seeing him as an older brother figure (in fact he welcomes it), but God forbid Han does. Interesting. 😉

(accidental parallel to 2018 LK saying “where?” when 2018 Han says “you have one right here”)

And Seungmin saying “They’re both free spirited. They have to do what they want to do.” is kinda 💡 💡 💡. It kind of goes back to Han and LK in their 2019 2KR: them saying that they both don’t care about what others think. Thinking about that, their behavior this year doesn’t surprise me one bit and almost everything else in prior years leading up to it.

2023 is where things get more blatant. I feel like that’s the year where the two want to tell us that “Hey, you guys are right. There is something going on between us.” I feel like they are taking full advantage of the shipping culture that’s abundant in K pop and FS to a smaller degree to say as much as they can possibly say without compromising their careers. As someone who’s been into K pop since 2nd gen, I’ll explain why I think this in the 2023 video.

[turtlethon]

With AJ Howard, I wonder if there's more to his mutant self hidden under a latex disguise or if he has a slug head with a normal body? The statue of his mutant form indicated his slug self was at least relatively human in shape, so I'm gonna assume he still has legs and fingers under the disguise, even if they're slimy.

As for J. Gordon Hungerdunger, I feel you could turn him into a playmates figure if you mutate him; undoubtably into a western setting animal like a Buffalo. Though then again that might be creeping into Cowboys of Moo Mesa's territory.

PS: The writers of the Dirk Savage episode sure knew the future when they did a plot of a powerful land mogul with his own tower persecuting minorities for his own power play!

I suppose Hungerdunger wouldn't even need to be a mutant animal to make it into the toy line, sometimes there are figures in there who appear conventionally human but every aspect of their look is turned up to 11 (like Tattoo or Pizzaface). Just make him the rootin'-est, tootin'-est guy ever, give him a comically oversized removable 50-gallon hat that's almost as big as he is, make his moustache as wide as his entire body, take that dollar sign bolo tie thing he had going on and make it a big chromed piece, go all-out.

(It's a shame that the flow of traffic in TMNT at the time seemed to go mostly one-way, we got a lot more characters introduced into the show who were created for the toy line than the other way around. Occasionally we'd get a highly requested figure like Mona Lisa and I still think it's incredible that in time they got around to sort-of doing both Super Rocksteady and Mighty Bebop, but the cartoon is full of characters and vehicles that would have made great toys, that just didn't happen - I'm tempted to compile a list, actually!)

Howard kind of got the worst of it from both sides: the requirement for his mutation to be a twist revealed halfway through his only episode meant his backstory was inevitably going to be underdeveloped, and he didn't receive a satisfactory exit. It can't have helped that he had to share screen time with Dirk Savage, plus all of the guest mutants. Maybe the Dirk Savage ep was another one from season seven that would have been better served by being a multi-part show. And yeah, something about him feels... almost like a quasi-mutation rather than a full one, closer to cat lady April rather than someone like Baxter whose transformation would be impossible to conceal. (That's actually something in itself that could be explored if things weren't so constricted: he calls himself the greatest mutant of all time, and maybe the rationale for his hate campaign was rooted in him convincing himself he's not like the other mutants. Behind the mask, he can continue to mingle in high society and act as if nothing had changed, a privilege not afforded to the people he's attacking.)

The comparison to Trump is well-observed, and something I didn't pick up on while writing about the episode. Howard is probably about as close as you could get to just putting Ross Perot in the show as a slug-man without risking legal action; giving him Richard Nixon's voice comes across as an obfuscation to be able to say he's not intended to represent any one person. But yeah, the tower named after himself and its gold interior suggests there was always a little of Trump in his NY property mogul era mixed in there too. Something that I didn't know until I was doing research to write the Dirk Savage Turtlethon entry was that Perot initially polled strongly in the 1992 presidential campaign before falling off. Trump basically borrowed his whole "I'm a successful man of industry, put me in the White House and I'll run it like a business" schtick from him, but had the advantage of not running as a third party candidate.

So I guess AJ Howard deserves at least an honourable mention as yet another Trump stand-in alongside McDonald Crump, Donald J. Lofty, Fenton Q. Hackenbrush, and in the UK Hero Turtles comics, Ronald Bump. There's probably more of these across the wider spectrum of TMNT media that I haven't discovered yet - it seems that wealthy buffoon / unscrupulous real estate kingpin / blustering con-man worked well as a foil for the Turtles at the time.

[miekasa]

I have a question for you, I see that requests are opened but tbh you don’t have to make headcanons for this I feel like it’s just a funny question. What embarassing stories or things do you think the characters would have? Like in a modern setting? Like embarassing things they have done or do? Like eren and levi, hell you can make them short like the music hc and add others! Up to you! Just thought it would be a funny scenario.

EREN: Do you want a list? Because this could go on for a while LMAOO. He does something embarrassing every two to three business hours, he’s so cringe fail it’s honestly kind of incredible. The worst part is though, is that he doesn’t even recognize how embarrassing he can be; hence why he continues to be a raging embarrassment in most public settings and an overall menace to society <2

Some of his most iconic moments include: locking his key inside his car and then breaking into his own car, only to realize that his key was in his pocket the whole time; boldly claiming that all the milk in the grocery store was expired and demanding compensation bc it said ‘best by MA 2021’ and he thought that meant march which would be bad since it was april, but it turns out MA was short for may; accidentally emailing his entire class when he meant to only respond to his professor; texting “good night, i love you baby” to his mom because he’d pinned their conversation at the top of his messages when he meant to text it to you. I’m gonna stop here for now because I cannot do this any longer. 

LEVI: Spends 15 minutes looking for his phone, only to realize it’s in his hand; gets confused easily by new slang and the proper context to use it, so he uses it incorrectly and you’re like ‘whatdidhesaaaaaaay’; if he’s holding tea in one hand and another object in the other, he’ll lift the hand with the other object to his mouth instead of the tea by accident. He’s hard to embarrass though, so even when he does embarrassing things, he doesn’t feel embarrassed by them. He’s just kind of like, oh, well that’s life. 

ARMIN: Gets very excited about things he is blatantly incorrect about but he looks so cute rambling it’s hard to correct him; pokes himself with his pens like 17845 times a day; they always mishear his name at Starbucks so he’s either standing there for 30 mins waiting for his drink when in reality they’ve already called it so it’s been sitting there on the counter, or he’ll hear a name he thinks they might have heard his name as and accidentally take somebody else’s drink. 

MIKASA: Literally has no sense of direction and will walk for 10 minutes before realizing she’s going the wrong way; got stung by a jellyfish when she was little and had to pee on her leg to stop the burn; accidentally sat on and broke Armin’s reading glasses once and instead of telling him, she went all the way downtown to the special glasses repair place and stood in line for 3 hours waiting to get them fixed. 

JEAN: Trips over thin air, but always plays it off in a cocky manner like “Oh, guess you could say I’m really falling for ya, huh--ow, fuck, not again,”; got a carrot stuck up his nose when he was a child and he had to go to the emergency room to get it removed; accidentally applied to a sorority because he didn’t realize sororities were for girls and frats were for boys (he lowkey got in tho). 

HANGE: Too many to count, but also is not embarrassed by their embarrassing antics. The worst is that they probably connect their car bluetooth to their phone and once someone borrow their car and was returning it, and it connected to their phone audio which was playing some... questionable videos. 

CONNIE: Zipper is never zipped; forgets to press ‘start’ on the microwave after putting in the time and comes back to realize his food hasn’t been heated up yet; accidentally sent a thirst trap to his TA because his contact was next to his friend’s; has fallen into a fountain in public while trying to get his nickel back. 

ERWIN: The way he dresses is borderline embarrassing every day. You do not need a sweater vest and khakis to go to Target, Erwin. Is bad with computers, so almost any embarrassing technological mishap you can think of, has happened to him; including that he accidentally downloaded a virus that spread to nearly all of the computers at his job all because he truly believed he’d won a free purple MacBook air for half price. 

SASHA: God... this girl. Pulls on push doors even though it says ‘push’ right on the handle; once walked into the wrong building and went all the way up to the apartment she thought was hers and knocked on it to be let in by her roommates, only to have two very old ladies open the door with very confused looks on their faces (she stayed for dinner though, it was lasagna night); gets into the wrong fucking Uber every single time and the drivers are like “Uh... no offense, but you don’t look like a Hank.” 

[heloisedaphnebrightmore]

New home [Fred Weasley x Reader]

Title: New home Pairing: Fred Weasley x Female!Reader Word count: 1.2k Published: 2 April 2021 Author: Heloise Daphne Brightmore Notes: [x] Just a fluffy little nothing :D I know I was supposed to post tomorrow, but I decided to do it a bit earlier, don’t ask me why :D Summary: [x] Fred and you are moving in together finally, but he is being cockier than usual, so you decide to play with him a little.

Harry Potter Characters Masterlist | Masterlists

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You loved Fred Weasley since the moment you first laid eyes on him. As if it was fate, from on that very magical day, you just happened to be around him, accidentally bumping into him, having the only space available beside you in classes, giving him no option but to be seated beside you. For a mere second you thought it was a coincidence, but when he finally asked you out it became very clear that it was anything but a coincidence. Fred made sure to be around you at all times and it seemed you were the only one who didn’t know about his interest in you.

Of course, you fell for his bubbly, loud personality as much as his good looks. There wasn’t a single thing you didn’t like about him. He certainly got on your nerves at times, wanting nothing but to pull your hair out, but if anything, that made him even more irresistible.

You were walking towards a large black door, with two cardboard boxes packed on top of each other, trying to balance them in your arms. From the clattering sound, you were fairly sure it contained kitchen utensils. Gently kicking the door in with one leg, you stepped inside the house with a large smile across your face, stopping for a moment to look around and admire the interior. Moving wasn’t something you were comfortable with as you have lived in the same house since the day you were born. But knowing that particular day was the very first of many that you were to spend living together with Fred, having your own house to yourself made up for all the negativity within you. The simple thought of waking up beside Fred every single day made you smile foolishly.

“I love you, darling, but you are scaring me,” he snorted as he stood beside you with three other boxes in his hands, holding them as if they weighed nothing. “If I knew moving together with me would make you this happy, I would have asked before,” he added as he hinted a small kiss on your cheek and walked past you, heading towards the kitchen.

“Well, you could have,” you pouted, thinking about the imaginary scenarios you could have experienced with him if he had just asked you to move in with him sooner. Heaving a heavy sigh, you followed him to the kitchen. “Your timing has never been the best,” you shrugged as you placed the boxes on the dining table.

“What is that supposed to mean?” he frowned in confusion.

“It took you a year to ask me out, it took you a month to kiss me and it took you 3 years to ask me to move in with you. Let’s be honest, Fred, you love taking your time,” you grimaced playfully.

“It’s not my fault you didn’t show any interest in me. It took me months to even get you to look at me—,”

“Hold on a minute!” you cut him off. “I have liked you way before you liked me, sir,” you snorted in disbelief. “It’s not my fault you were too blind to realise it,”

“True—,” he nodded seriously. “I don’t even know what I was thinking. What foolish person could resist this?” he smirked as he ran his hands over his body in a comical manner, making you laugh loudly.

“Oh, I love your confidence,” you replied as you walked up to him, hinting a kiss on his lips.

“What can I say?! I’m pretty handsome and I have a quick mind. I’m quite a catch if you ask me,” he smiled proudly.

“I’m glad you are happy with yourself, do you care what I think?” you asked with a questioningly raised brow.

“I think I already know. You are moving in with me after all,” he snorted with a wide and proud grin across his face. You looked at him with a deadpan expression, taking a deep breath.

“Do you want me to turn around? I’m not sure I have space beside that huge ego of yours in this house,” you retorted.

“Come on, love, that’s one of the reasons you fell for me,” he winked playfully as he wrapped his arms around you. “Besides, you love me too much to pack up and leave,” he chuckled with a proud smile across his face. However, you wore a serious expression, one that clearly showed you were debating your options. You weren’t angry at him, you could never be, but for Godric’s sake he needed his ego to be humbled.

Removing his hands from you, you walked back to the table and picked up the two boxes, heading towards the exit. “What are you doing?” he asked with confusion in his voice.

“Don’t you know me?” you turned around with an innocent smile on your face. “I always do the opposite of what I’m told to do. Now, I will prove you wrong, pack up and leave,” you turned back around and continued towards the door. Sure, it might have been a low blow and not the most ethical joke, but if anyone, Fred had practiced the worst of his pranks on you at times. He deserved a bit of humbling experience.

“Hold up there, princess,” he ran after you with a panicked expression as if he really believed you were ready to leave. “I didn’t mean any of that. I was just joking around. Let’s just go back to the kitchen, we will make a cup of tea and sit down—,” he started looking around frantically as if searching for something. “well, we don’t have chairs yet,” he added quickly, searching for any other furniture that you could occupy.

“We have a bed,” you replied with a cheeky smile across your face as you placed the boxes on the carpet. Standing up, you met a very confused Fred, a deep frown sitting across his brows. You raised a questioning brow, trying to make him understand that you were only joking. “Where is your quick mind now?” you asked, chuckling.

“It wasn’t funny,” he pouted as he shook his head, realising you hadn’t even thought about leaving. Although he looked like a sulking little boy, he couldn’t hide the small smile in the corner of his lips.

“Fred Weasley, do you really think I’m such a fool to leave the best person that I have ever met? I would head to St. Mungo’s straight away,” you giggled as you wrapped your arms around his neck and pulled him down for a kiss, enjoying his arms sneaking around your waist, pulling his body flush against yours.

“So, we have a bed, huh?” he asked chuckling, but you just rolled your eyes.

“Yes, we do, and it will still be there after we finished packing,” you added with a cheeky smile.

“Oh, come on, we need to break it in,” he tried to change your mind, but you just shook your head with a content smile.

“How is that saying? ‘Good things come to those who wait’,” you giggled as you hinted a kiss on his cheek, picked up the boxes that you foolishly kept bringing back and forth and headed to the kitchen once again.

“You will be the death of me, woman!” he groaned, but reluctantly started packing, knowing the faster you were to finish with the boxes, the quicker he could get you to break-in that bed.

Notes: If you enjoyed reading this little piece, please don’t forget to leave a like, comment and/or reblog. Your opinion matters and gives us motivation. Thank you ^^

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New Home temporary taglist:

@the-romanian-is-bae​ @famdomhideout​

[robin-josephette-biden]

A Statement Through Horror: BDG and YouTube

In his video announcing his departure from Polygon Bryan David Gilbert [BDG] stated, “I want to make things that one day people will make a show like unraveled about.” [Paraphrasing here]. Since that announcement he has made some of the most interesting and engaging comedy videos on the platform. On Bryan’s channel, there is a section called “bdg’s scaries” that contains three videos. The first how to make jorts was released April 27, 2019 and will not be part of this analysis, as we are focused on the other two videos. These two videos are Earn $20K EVERY MONTH by being your own boss which was released on October 25, 2020 (two months before his final Unraveled video and departure from Polygon) and Teaching Jake about the Camcorder, Jan '97 which was posted March 3, 2021. If you have not seen these videos yet you should stop reading immediately and go watch them both (honestly everything on his channel is amazing, especially the surprisingly compelling and personal Dances Moving! series) before continuing to read this as I will be spoiling both of them. The position of YouTube celebrity has been the source of a good bit of commentary as short form online media has become more and more central in our culture. Bryan has created two videos that I feel do an excellent job of exploring the relationship between youtuber and audience. I should also point out that this is merely my interpretation of these videos and is in no way BDG’s intended message. I’ll start by going over the first video. Earn $20K EVERY MONTH by being your own boss opens with BDG outside an apartment building, standing in front of a black car. BDG points up at one of the windows and says, “Three years ago I was living in that apartment right there. Third floor, leaky windows, cockroaches, the worst.” I do not know if the real life BDG actually lived in that building, but the 3 years timeframe does line up neatly with his beginning to work at Polygon. BDG continues to bad mouth his old apartment and mentions how he has turned it all around stating, “But just last week I paid off my very first Subaru Impreza. And I own my own house in Nebraska.” This radical change in life-style he credits to, “. . . [working] from home, [making] my own hours, and [being] my own boss. And you can do it too.” I think that it is interesting that BDG’s career up to that point mirrors that of his character, going from newly graduated content creator making small videos in his apartment to one of the most popular creators on Polygon. And all that being accomplished through work that many (rightly or wrongly) would not see as fitting into the mold of the traditional 9 to 5. The idea of making millions working from home, at your own pace, and with no boss is intrinsically tied to the mystique of the YouTube celebrity. Moving into BDG’s office he explains that he makes $20k a month working on spreadsheets. A massive spreadsheet appears behind him that is dated, 01.12.88 (nothing of note happened on January 12, 1988 and the only thing that happened on December 1, 1988 is a large cyclone that struck Bangladesh, January 12, 1888 is the day of the Schoolhouse Blizzard which struck the midwestern US and killed 235 people (remember this for later)) and is filled, seemingly randomly, with garbled nonsense symbols. Many of the cells are the same as other cells and there are empty cells scattered haphazardly throughout the spreadsheet. BDG explains that he got this strategy from Dorian Smiles. In exchange for working on these spreadsheets BDG receives $10k - $20k a month (an amount that lines up pretty damn well with the amount he should be getting through his Patreon page currently, I don’t know if this was true when the video was made though) from Dorian. Wanting to know where the money is coming from BDG asks his bank and they explain that he is wiring the money to himself from another account he has. He grows confused as to the nature of this work and the disproportionately large amount of money it brings in, explicitly mentioning his confusion as to how the money is coming from someone with, “. . . my name and my voice.” and sets about to find and confront Dorian Smiles. BDG sets off for Center Nebraska, which is close to where Dorian lives (a small town in the northeast corner of Nebraska). He states that Dorian’s address hasn’t existed since 1888 (that’s a familiar year isn’t it?) when it was supposedly condemned during an enormous blizzard and is, “. . . just woods now.” The video then transitions to BDG walking through dark woods while his narration talking up the Dorian Smiles program continues becoming increasingly broken. He comes across a figure sitting in the woods that is convulsing strangely, when he calls out to it the figure turns and is him (heretofore named Dorian). Dorian slowly puts his hands over his nose and mouth while staring at BDG at which point the narration cuts out. BDG copies Dorian and when Dorian removes his hands in a flourish, BDG does the same to reveal that he no longer has a mouth. The video quickly cuts back to BDG in his office talking about the program, he asks the viewer, “Why don’t you join me?” and then sits back and smiles while that line repeats without him moving his mouth. The most pressing mystery is who Dorian Smiles is. I think the most likely answer (and one I know I am not the progenitor of) is that Dorian is a reference to The Picture of Dorian Grey by Oscar Wilde, the story of a young man that has a portrait that ages and takes on the ravages of the debauched life its subject lives while Dorian himself does not. BDG would therefore be the unwitting recipient of that blessing, reaping massive rewards while his double, Dorian, lives in poverty and solitude. I like this explanation for Dorian, but I find it to be far more mechanical than thematic. On a metatextual level you could read that Dorian represents the character of BDG. The person that is in all of BDG’s videos, and the one with whom so much of the audience forms a parasocial relationship. In this lens the parallels with BDG’s own life make more sense. By this point in BDG’s career it is not difficult to imagine him feeling stifled creatively at work (I feel comfortable saying this given how soon after this video came out that he departed Polygon). His character had grown too large, potentially becoming alien to him, no longer reflecting the art he wanted to make and so he made a video about a distorted version of himself stealing his voice. In this way the video becomes a statement on his artistic integrity and his desire to test new boundaries and go in different directions. In hindsight, with the knowledge of his departure and then success after leaving Polygon, the video becomes almost heartwarming (if it weren’t terrifying) in the same way that a before and after picture of someone improving themselves can be. We will return to the Dorian Smiles system, but now we must move to the second video, Teaching Jake about the Camcorder, Jan '97. I’ll save you the blow by blow breakdown and aim for a quick summary instead. This video is a simple stationary shot of an old CRT tv. A VHS tape is inserted and a video of a man teaching his, evidently young, son how to use a camcorder plays. It is relatively wholesome and corny in that way that all home movies are and when it ends the tape rewinds and the segment plays again, this time with a few deviations. Over replays the father becomes aware of what is happening and begins trying to reason with Jake through the camcorder begging him to stop watching the tape and move on. The father is menaced by a large shadowy figure that does not speak or move when confronted. Eventually the father resorts to simply taking the camera and recording his own screams of pain. On the final rewind the father simply says, “Attaboy.” before calmly walking out the room and into the dark hallway, a doorway opens at the other end, filled with orange light, and the father walks through and down stairs. The final shot of the video is of the television, showing the hallway, as orange light begins to flicker in the background of the left side of the TV. The sound of the father descending the stairs transitions from the TV to diegetic and a shadow appears briefly in the light. On one level the video is clearly a statement about loss and about trauma. Jake is losing himself by watching these videos on repeat, trying in vain to relive a happier time. In that desperate desire to regain what was lost he is distorting it, making it into something it isn’t, hurting it. At the beginning the father says, “Never ever press the rewind button, otherwise you might record over a precious memory. We always keep the recording going forward . . .“ I think there is an additional, and more personal for BDG, reading however. The father is the modern character of BDG, and we, the audience, are Jake. He is pleading with us to leave the past behind and move on. This was only his 3rd video that he posted after leaving Polygon. It is a plea from him to leave the old character behind and stop trying to make one into the other. To stop obsessively comparing the new videos to the old. To let the future be the future and let the past be the past. He is telling us that his new work will not be like the old, that he has progressed past that and that now his viewers need to as well. The detachment and confusion of Earn $20K EVERY MONTH by being your own boss has transformed into a desire to move forward. But he needed to ensure that his audience was ready to come with him, and so he made a video about loss and the dangers of sinking too far into it. I know that there are some of you that feel I am reading too much of what I assume to be BDG’s thoughts and emotions into these interpretations, and I am the first to admit that I might be. In no way am I trying to say these are the only interpretations of these videos or even that they are correct. I think there is so much more of an artist that they put into their work than they realise. I do not know the mind of BDG, only he does, but these videos made me feel that I had a glimpse into the feelings of a man whose work I admire. These videos are either longer or a drastically different tone to the material he has put on his own channel and as such they stood out to me. They felt different, and they seemed to ask for a different level of scrutiny. On some level maybe BDGs videos can not be divorced from the story of BDG as a content creator, the same as any modern internet semi-celebrity, or indeed any artist. I guess there was also a part of me that wanted to answer the call to action I heard when BDG left Polygon, to unravel his work. I hope in some small way I’ve been able to do that.

[loveinterestcastiel]

erosion

I wrote some endverse fic based on a @lateral-org post asking a FANTASTIC question:

When/why/how did endverse! cas get rid of the trenchcoat and what was dean's reaction?

Rated M. Warnings: Graphic Depictions of Violence. Word Count: 4.1k

tagged some mutuals and people I thought might be interested in this under the cut, if you want tagged in this/future fic or want me to remove your tag dm me!

erosion

Of course, Sam said yes in Detroit. So why dream about that? He lived it every day. The redundancy was irritating at best.

Where the fuck did I leave my boots last night? Cas cursed under his breath and embarked on a thorough search of their cabin, the coarse words warm and familiar on his tongue as he yanked on his socks. I really am starting to sound like Dean.

Dean’s boots were already gone, his gun and thigh holster absent too. He’d left his green jacket behind, tossed carelessly aside last night and hidden under the trenchcoat on the floor at the foot of their bed. He slipped his coat on over his clothes and shoved Dean’s jacket into their pack- he knew he’d want it later, even if it was just for the drive back. He slipped on the worn coat, habit- he’d stopped wasting Grace on its upkeep a while ago, but it was still important. It felt like comfort, in some strange way, so he kept on wearing it despite the worn-through elbows or the stubborn little bloodstained spot on the hem.

He’d dreamed of Detroit, last night, again. He didn’t know if he’d ever get used to dreaming, as unsettling and involuntary as it was. It felt like the unfair hijacking of an otherwise enjoyable human bodily function, and he resented it altogether. He snagged a bit of weed from his stash and tucked it in next to his flask, sweeping out the cabin door and into the frigid morning sunshine, giving Chuck a lazy wave as he ambled past his cabin to the truck lot, kicking little pebbles across the packed dirt at imaginary targets with a super-human precision that grated strangely on him today.

“Big run today,” Chuck said with a tentative smile, his hands clasping a chipped mug filled to the brim with his ridiculously indulgent tea, wafting a cascade of steam out over the railing of his cabin porch before dissipating into the air. “Don’t forget the perishables if you can get at them, ok? We’re seriously low on-”

“Toilet paper, milk, cheese, butter,” he interrupted, “plus sugar, flour, canned fruit, hygiene products, toothpaste, toilet paper, coffee, meat if we can get it, .35 and 9mm ammunition, mechanical oil, gasoline, propane, rubbing alcohol, gauze, surgical tape, toilet paper, paracetamol, and oh, toilet paper again!” Cas recited dryly, rolling his eyes. “You gave us a written list yesterday. Twice. Couldn’t fuck up blackout drunk.”

Chuck snorted, shaking his head in self-deprecation. “Just doing my job, Cas.”

“We’ll do ours,” he called over his shoulder, continuing down the central path briskly. “We’ve all got our part to play.”

What was it Lucifer had said to Dean, that night Zachariah stole him out from under Cas’s nose and threw him into the future? No matter what choices you make, whatever details you alter… we will always end up here.

It certainly seemed like he was right. Most days, it seemed like they were all hurtling towards the exact same place Dean had caught a wretched glimpse of, once, with the brakes slashed and emergency failsafes offline, and no indicator that the impossible choices they were making every day were anything but inevitable. He knew that Dean still had nightmares about his ending, but he didn’t know much else about Dean’s nightmares anymore but what little snippets he could garner from what Dean mumbled and cried out in his sleep. He’d lost the ability to dreamwalk a while back. Three nights after the Croatoan virus wiped out Fort Worth and they were forced to fall back, he tried to enter Dean’s sleep to watch his dreams in the dubious refuge of a closed down Motel 6 off of interstate 70 as they ran west, to see if there was some piece of information they’d missed, some new choice they could make one day that could change the path they were on.

It simply hadn’t worked. He mourned the loss of one more skill in the darkness of their room that night as Dean slept uneasily in the bed beside him, one more thing which, in its absence, made him ever more useless to Dean, much like the loss of his ability to time travel, or to smite their enemies with ease. Flight was becoming difficult by the day, and he knew in some part of his mind that his wings would be the next to go, and he would be grounded, permanently, on Earth and not in Heaven.

And so it goes.

Anyway, it wasn’t like they had much of a choice about anything these days. Once Michael had taken Adam, they lost their only trump card. Heaven didn’t need Dean anymore, but Hell desperately needed Sam. It was a shame, it really was, that Sam’s gamble hadn’t paid off.

It was a miracle Lucifer let Dean go. He had brushed him off as a non-threat. Unimportant on a cosmic scale, however important Dean was to the vessel. To Sam. So Dean walked out of that run down building alive, and he was the most beautiful, terrible thing Cas had ever seen. His soul shone brighter than even an archangel’s grace in his rage and trembled with the fierce sharpness of grief, and it was glorious, righteous.

Godly.

Even as Cas’s memories softened and blurred, becoming tinged with a mortal haze, that memory of Dean remained in a sparkling clarity. He could imagine no life, no moldable version of the past, in which he did not choose Dean. From the very first moment his soul had reached back to cling to Cas’s Grace in Hell, Cas had fallen, was falling, would fall, for Dean. It was inevitable, his love. They were inevitable. They fell together in the time after Detroit, into battle, into bed, and into cosmic obscurity. Soon, too soon, their losses began to outnumber their wins, and they had to make more and more certain regrettable sacrifices just to stay alive. Cas was used to collateral damage, far more than Dean was, but whatever the other humans in their ragged camp believed of him, he wasn’t unaffected. Just the opposite, in fact. He had never felt anything before, not for billions of years, an incomprehensible existence of light and intent and obedience and war, and now he felt everything. That- not Dean’s disappointment, or the slow loss of his Grace, or his Father’s unyielding silence- was undoubtedly the worst part of becoming something like human.

Some days were better than others, of course. Some days he took precious little blue or white or green pills, all different shapes and sizes and he felt good. Numb, pleased, far away. Quiet. Others, fewer than the days he had his pills, he took shrooms, LSD. Molly, twice. Often he took nothing at all, craving the wicked pain and emptiness it created in him as his sobriety enhanced the ache his dwindling Grace left behind, needing the punishment to feel real before forcing himself into a tumultuous sleep after days spent horribly awake with half a bottle of rotgut sloshing in his stomach. He still liked joints, rolled meticulously, their verdant smoke curling up deliciously in his lungs and setting him up on a lovely little metaphorical cloud the best, and then, they were even more so lovely when he shared them with Dean. There was nothing, nothing like passing it between them, before transitioning into trading hit after hit between their mouths, brushing against his soft lips, breathing his air, watching Dean’s cheeks flush a stunning pink and holding tight to his deep golden hair, dragging him down into slow, languid kisses that desire deepened and turned into a precious sort of holy consumption as the high hit its stride in them both.

He was sober today, mostly, just riding out the last of some gorgeous pink pill from a nearly full bottle he’d just scavenged out a few days before. It made him feel floaty, focused, fearless. He felt almost like he did two years ago, before his reeducation stint in Heaven. Angelic. It was nice. He’d take another, later. Maybe Dean would want to take one, too, and they could fuck high out under the stars on their quilt again like they did last October and feel like the real Gods of this stupid little planet, on top of the world, on top of Dean, cradled in the soft embrace of his thighs, and worship each other.

Take that, brothers. Castiel smiled viciously at the sky. You’ll never fuck God like I have.

Standing impatiently among their motley caravan of vehicles in the sickly yellow light of a midwestern April morning sun, his back to Cas, Dean’s silhouette and the flashing imprint of his soul- the only one Cas could still see clearly- caramelized into a sweet union of tangible and not that pulled at his stomach and swept him into the siren song of Dean’s being and woke up the hungry creature that lived in his heart and craved DeanDeanDeanDean.

No one else was there yet, probably all still dicking around at the camp mess and drinking shitty chicory. His feet fell silently on the earth, leaving behind the sound of the universe and the vibrant humming of Dean’s soul- and oh, he hoped he could always hear that symphony, even when all the rest of his powers had run dry.

Just as he reached out to take Dean by the shoulder and turn him around, Dean moved with a sudden burst of energy, like a coiled snake striking out. He whirled around and met Cas’s eyes, took him by the neck and the waist, and kissed him. His lips moved with a gentleness that contradicted the intensity of the grip of his cold-fingered hands as they worked their way into his hair, wormed their way under his trenchcoat, and touched the bare skin they found where the hem of his t-shirt met his jeans. He met the kiss eagerly, licking teasingly at the seam of his lips, biting down gently and coaxing Dean into opening his mouth. He pushed Dean back until his back hit the nearest rusted army-green truck with a small thudding noise, pressing himself up against Dean and tugging on his hips so they were pressed flush against each other, the contact sending and electric thrill racing up his spine.

“Cas,” Dean gasped out at the sensation of their bodies meeting, the air punched out of his lungs.

“Mmm, morning,” Cas murmured between kisses. “You’re out here early.” Dean’s neck was uncharacteristically bare above the neck of his rough brown sweater, creamy and invitingly unmarked. Cas indulged in the impulse to change that, working his way over the tender skin, sucking and biting until a bruise began to bloom below the junction of Dean’s jaw and neck, worrying it with his teeth until it was a deep reddish-purple.

“Couldn’t sleep,” Dean whispered, letting his head fall back against the truck window, baring his throat further, and closed his eyes. He seemed almost happy, today. He seemed to light up in the lead-up to their more dangerous missions, and Cas didn’t want to think about that right now. Didn’t want to ruin the moment. “Didn’t want to wake you up,” Dean elaborated.

“I appreciate that.” Satisfied with the rather outrageous hickey he’d created on Dean’s neck, Cas pressed it with one last kiss. “How’d you know I was behind you?” he asked, pressing their foreheads together and slowly grinding their hips together lazily, just breathing Dean in.

“Felt you,” Dean said, bringing their lips together again briefly. “Always can.” One more little kiss.

“Dean, last night, when you couldn’t sleep, I dreamed again about Detroit-” Cas started to confess feverishly, almost against his will, Dean stiffening up at his words in his arms, and was interrupted by the sound of people approaching, footsteps, voices, and an earsplitting wolf-whistle directed at their compromising position.

Dean’s face shuttered immediately, and Cas felt every scrap of easy bliss flee his body.

He pulled back with more than a little reluctance, his stomach twisting as a fakely jovial grin tugged at the corners of his lips, and clapped Dean on the shoulder. “Let’s go, fearless leader. We’ve got a mission to run, don’t you know?”

“Don’t start with that fearless leader shit,” Dean said tightly, rolling his eyes away from Castiel’s face and fixing on a point somewhere over Cas’s shoulder. “Who’s driving?”

“Looks like Cas is driving,” Joe called out mischievously.

Risa smacked him in the chest. “Get in the truck, idiot.” She turned her gaze to Dean, an odd glint in her eye. It felt sticky and wrong in his core but Cas stamped the feeling down. “Group brief over the radio on the way?” she asked.

“Yeah, at 8,” Dean said, sliding into his unshakeable militaristic persona with a firm nod. “Should be fairly straightforward in and out supply grab. Intel says the Croats cleared out of Roanoke a couple days ago, left major infrastructure and commerce sites relatively untouched. It’s a good thing too,” he added, “we were getting spread a little thin with most goods.”

“Sounds easy enough.”

———————————————————————

It was not, in fact, easy.

Their intel was wrong, so wrong, and Cas didn’t know how the fuck it happened, but they were fine, they were almost finished, closing up the trucks in the alley behind the supermarket and waiting for Dean and Trish to return from sweeping the perimeter, when out of what seemed like thin air and with no more than a broken shout for warning there were more Croats swarming them than he’d ever seen in one place before, and Joe and Maya and Kris were dead, and Dean was nowhere to be found.

The Croats had the remaining seven pinned down against the main truck, snarling and screeching and reeking of blood and gore, strips of flesh and clothing that once adorned their companions now dangling from their teeth. Their single-minded need for the endless consumption of human flesh and that it was currently being denied drove them to a terrifying frenzy, but the hunters were starting to push back, and the Croat numbers were thinning slowly but surely. Cas thought he saw Allen get bitten, but next he glanced at him he looked fine. He’d need to check on that if they made it out alive. He resigned himself quickly to the idea of killing the man before they got back to Chitaqua- Allen was a nice enough man, quick-witted and skilled with a blade and a loom, but nothing was worth bringing a Croat back to camp. He owed it to the man as a human being to grant him a swift death if he’d been infected before Allen himself could realize it. A shot to the back of the head, unawares, had to be better than a clumsy battle and inevitable stab to the chest (Cas knew he would always have the upper hand against a human, even when he had fallen in full) with fear in his heart.

He buried his angel blade to hilt in yet another Croat’s throat, yanking it out and ducking out of the way of the spray of blood that followed in a well-practiced motion uncanny in its speed. They would win this one.

But still no Dean.

Cas felt a bubbly panic rise up in his chest through the haze of battle as it became clear to him that Dean wasn’t coming back. Even from the other side of the building or from inside, there was no way that Dean had not heard the commotion of such a large fight.

Something was stopping Dean from coming back to him.

“Risa,” he shouted over the din to the woman on his left. “Dean and Trish-”

“I know,” she interjected tersely, hacking the head off of a skeletally thin Croat in a tattered suit. “Retrieval? We’ve got this handled here as long as this all the fucking bastards around.”

“I’m going in,” Cas said quickly, slicing at a particularly bold (stupid) Croat trying to charge him. It crumpled to the ground and twitched once, and was still. Some of its companions fell on the body ravenously, and were subsequently cut down in turn as they began to tear at the corpse. “Leave as soon as you’re able; I’ve got the keys to the main truck. Cover your right,” he warned Risa, and, sensing an opportunity in the parting sea of Croats before him, ran.

He was through the service doors of the building before the Croat hoard could even begin to respond to his escape, and their noises were quickly muffled by the service door as it locked automatically behind him, leaving him in relative quiet.

There were a surprising number of crates and boxes remaining in the storage and unloading zones, either empty or nearly so, and he quickly ascertained the area was, apart from himself, devoid of life or anything of interest to the camp.

Cas.

Dean's sudden prayer hit him like a sledgehammer to the gut.

Aisle... his mental voice trailed off for a second into indistinct sounds, colors, and waves of pain. Aisle seven. It's bad.

Cas shoved through the access door into the freezers, and out into the store with a recklessness he would have been ashamed of had he been so terrified.

He turned down aisle seven and skidded to a halt, frozen at the sight that greeted him, and tried to make sense of the hideously macabre tableau.

Trish's decapitated body lay the furthest from him, her ribcage torn open, her organs spilling over her arms and scattered in pieces over the floor. Three dead Croats, all headshots, around her remains. Then a bloody lake on the cheap linoleum tile, thick and viscous and so, so red, two more dead Croats, clearly more hard-won victories, their arms hacked at, heads partially removed, and nearly blocking the last body from view, wedged up against the shelves and bloody as it was.

"Cas," Dean wheezed, lifting his head laboriously to meet his eyes, blood bubbling up between his lips and staining them. "Cas, I'm so sorry-"

"No, no, don't talk like that," Cas said desperately, kneeling beside Dean. He took their pack of his back with shaking hands and shoved his angel blade somewhere inside. "We can fix this. You'll be okay."

"Cas-"

"You will!" he said, too loudly and startling himself.

"My ribs," Dean panted out in pained little gasps. "Broken. There's something in my back." He twitched minutely as if to show Cas the problem and immediately convulsed involuntarily at the pain the movement caused him, a horrible rattling moan in his throat. "My leg. Right one. Broken too." His jaw was clenched so tightly it was a miracle he could speak at all through the teeth-grinding pain he was in.

"Okay," Cas said faintly.

Cas...

Oh, he hated feeling. Sometimes he thought it made him useless. He missed being cold. Brutal, uncaring about pain or death. But this was Dean, and he'd never actually been particularly good at being a machine, anyway. "Okay. Dean, I need to see your back," he warned him, before moving him as gently as he could and angling his body so that he could get an unobstructed view of his back.

There was a crude metal stake wedged just an inch to the left of his second and third thoracic vertebrae, rusted, twisted and cruel-looking.

"Dean, I- I have to try to heal you," he said slowly, knowing that Dean wouldn't want him to be wasteful with his Grace. But this was beyond what human field medicine could help.

Dean didn't respond. He'd fallen unconscious.

"Oh no, no, no, baby," he babbled under his breath, trying to figure out the best way to extract the bar of metal. "Hold on," he muttered, grasping the stake firmly and bracing Dean's body against his own, trying to avoid fucking his broken ribs up more.

"Father, please, if you're still here, if you're listening, if you care at all," he begged, "help me."

Of course, his Father didn't answer. Gritting his teeth, Cas yanked out the stake and tossed it aside, immediately covering the wound with his hand. He summoned his Grace together and it responded sluggishly, but his hand was glowing and Dean's back was knitting back together.

As the skin merged into a puckered, raw-looking pink scar, Cas dropped his hand away from the wound and found himself utterly breathless, gasping for air and drained.

Dean was still unconscious.

He leaned Dean back up against the shelving and took a moment to figure out what to do next. Dean was still dying. He was still in danger. He couldn't be moved, nor could they stay put. He quickly opened up their pack and realized in horror that all the medical supplies were with Risa and AJ on the trucks and so, so far away by now.

He yanked his coat off with a twinge of regret. It was bloodied and worn and what he was about to do with it felt like a milestone he was loathe to reach.

He shredded it into long, wide strips, not letting himself think of how it was the last piece of Jimmy Novak, or how he had repaid the man's sacrifice by being party to the end of the world they both wanted to protect, or how Claire Novak had stopped praying to him weeks ago, now. He got on with the job, this is just a job, I can fix this-

He managed to wrap Dean's leg up decently tight, straight and stiff, but he had quickly discovered it was broken in several places. He didn't know what he could do for Dean's ribs, and he felt, as if from a distance, how Dean's breath was coming shallower and shallower, and he made his choice.

He laid his left hand on Dean's broken leg, as gently as he could. Leaning forward, he smoothed the wispy little baby hairs he loved to tease Dean about back, off his sweaty, pained, precious face, and, placing his right hand on Dean's crushed ribs, near his heart, touched their foreheads together. He looked at Dean's soul, his shining, beautiful (fading) soul and knew.

"I love you," Cas whispered, his voice wrecked. With that finally said, he grabbed his exhausted, weary Grace, and though it fought him and slipped through his grasp, he got hold of it and he pushed everything he could, everything he was into his hands, into Dean.

When he had done it, when he had drained himself down to mists and vapors, and had saved Dean, he gathered him in his arms, and carried him back to the truck on numb feet, leaving the scraps of Jimmy's coat behind in aisle seven.

When the truck broke down thirty miles from Chitaqua, and their radio too, he turned to Dean, pulling on a blue-ish jacket they'd picked up earlier during the run. It fit well.

"It's a good look for you," Dean said gruffly, staring at Cas with an expression he could not recognize. There was blood still smeared on his cheekbone, he noted absently.

"Oh. Yes. Well, thank you," Cas answered, adjusting the sleeves.

Dean tugged at the tan fabric strips on his leg, wincing at the pressure.

"You did a good job, Cas. With this fabric splint from your coat-"

"I know you won't be able to walk it," Cas said quietly, unable to meet his eyes even as he interrupted him. "I did what I could, but you'll be weak for days. You need time."

"You can leave me, Cas," Dean said, a strange, pinched guilt-pain-tenderness on his face. "You can come back for me."

"No," Cas said, smiling, and choking, and took Dean's cheek in the palm of his hand with a terrible ache rising in his throat. "I can't."

April 19th, 2012, under the peak of the Lyrids meteor showers, Cas flew for the last time, right up to the gates of the camp.

When they landed, a millisecond and millennia later, his wings burned away into nothingness in a wave of electric, minty-white pain that forced him to the ground. In the aftermath, panting and sweating and shaking in Dean's arms and clutching at his handprint on Dean's shoulder, he realized his Grace, or what was left of it, anyway, had consolidated into a bright little ball in his chest. Like a soul.

The realization was followed by another. Despite his earlier conviction that it would one day be lost to him, he could still see Dean's soul- behind his teeth, in his chest, radiant like a halo around his head, and worth, a million times over, and a million again, falling for.

Tagged:

@heller-jensen @sunforgrace @rambleoncas @adhdeancas @evermorecastiel @holmesemrys @plantdadcas @good-things-do-happen-dean @jeanne-de-valois @autisticandroids @sonder-stars @yana125 @faithcastiel @cascreamtiel @seffersonjtarship @i-sing-for-me @purgatorybi @bibelphegor @cowboyslikedean @gracefuldean @dimples-of-discontent @judaskissdean @wafflehousegothic @icaruscastiel @67chevyimpala67 @lesbianjenderenvy

[jazy3]

Thoughts on Grey’s Anatomy: 17X9

SPOILERS AHEAD!!!

I loved this episode! The writing was excellent, the cinematography was phenomenal, the acting was great, and the sets and costumes were gorgeous! They did some very interesting shots. It was very avant-garde and when done right I love that kind of thing. Also, we got to see Meredith back in action as she wandered around Teddy's dreamscape and talked to her which I loved. They took a risk with this episode and I think it paid off.

This episode was really beautiful in terms of the sets and costumes that we’re used. I loved Meredith’s jacket, the blue wedding dress that Teddy wears is gorgeous, and I loved her silk pyjama set and robe. Very fierce. I love that they recreated Teddy’s apartment in Germany and dressed it up for the wedding. That set was really cool! The flower arrangements were interesting, and the disco balls were a nice touch. I loved the hotel set where Tom and Teddy run away to. It was very flowy and surreal. Teddy’s bedroom in New York was also well done. The wicker bedframe made it feel particularly true to the era.

This episode made me feel like I have a better understanding of where Teddy is coming from now and it made her a lot more sympathetic and understandable than in the past. I’ve been open about the fact that I’ve found Teddy’s motivations and point of view difficult to understand this season. She spent the first half of the season treating Tom horribly for no discernable reason. She’s been cruel to Owen after finally getting what she wanted all these years and I repeatedly found myself wondering what she expected to have happen after she acted the way that she did.

I didn’t think it was possible for me to like Teddy after the way she’s been acting all season and the careless way she’s been treating other people, but this episode made me understand her a lot more and actually have sympathy for her. What this episode addressed in a big way is that Teddy has never gotten treatment or really dealt with the trauma that she has experienced in the way that other characters have.

Owen, Teddy, Megan, Riggs, April, and Parker all served in the military and experienced trauma as a result. But Teddy has never gotten treatment or any kind of help for what happened to her. We’ve seen Owen go through therapy for his PTSD and other issues multiple times across the seasons. We saw Megan receive treatment and she talks to Owen about the fact that both her and Riggs go to individual and couples’ therapy weekly to deal with their trauma and issues.

While we don’t see April go to therapy we do see her work through the trauma of having served, losing her son Samuel, losing her marriage, and we see her go through a crises of faith later on. We see her process those emotions and get help from those around her. Last we see of resident Casey Parker, Teddy and Amelia are admitting him for treatment and he’s reported to be doing better. We never see Teddy do any of that. We see her go to a grief group after Henry dies, but that’s it. As Amelia says to Owen in this episode, they have both openly acknowledged and received treatment for their illnesses and issues. Teddy never has and clearly that's been affecting her more than any of them, including Teddy, realized. This episode addressed the long standing issues that Teddy has and I’d like to see her get therapy going forward. Through Teddy’s dreams we find out that she blames herself for Allison’s death because she wanted to stay in and make her pancakes for breakfast, but Teddy said no.

Allison wound up going to the restaurant Windows on the World for breakfast and then to work at the World Trade Centre and Teddy grabbed something quickly and then went into work at the hospital. Teddy feels that if she had just said yes to breakfast and to Allison making her pancakes or if they’d both called into work and taken the day off that Allison wouldn’t have died, but as this episode makes clear Teddy couldn’t have known what was going to happen. And having breakfast with Allison may not have saved her life. She could have been somewhere nearby the day of the attack and suffered smoke inhalation or been hit by debris.

Or she could have randomly been hit by a car walking down the street. You just don't know what’s going to happen. But nevertheless, Teddy blames herself. In her flashbacks we see Teddy learn of her mother’s sudden and unexpected death at the age of 50. We learn that Teddy’s father was sick for years before he died that same year. That Allison carried her through that and that’s how they fell in love.

So, when Allison died in a horrific unexplainable terrorist attack that same year Teddy was gutted and so she ran away and joined the military in order to try and help the people who were trying to get the people who killed Allison. While serving in Iraq she fell in love with someone who was engaged and when she was discharged and they reconnected she found out he felt the same way but was with someone else who he later married.

So, she moved on and fell in love with someone else who promptly died. Owen then fired her so she would take her dream job at MedCom in Germany and when they reconnected once again, she found him married to someone else. He flew all the way to Germany to see her and she finally thought they were going to have their moment only to discover that he’d been sleeping with Amelia the night before. She kicked him out only to realize afterwards that she was pregnant.

She once again returned to Seattle only to find out that Owen and Amelia had gotten back together and had kids. So, she started over and began a relationship with Tom only for Owen to once again declare his love for her at the worst possible moment. They got back together and she thought she was happy, but the moment she realized that Amelia’s baby might be Owen’s she panicked and ran back to Tom.

Only to discover that the baby was Link’s and that she just blew her life up for no reason. She couldn’t admit to what she’d done because all of that is tied to her previous trauma that she still hasn’t dealt with. She couldn’t face Tom because she didn’t know how to explain her actions. She couldn’t tell Owen because she still doesn’t understand why did what she did and all of that is wrapped up in those past events that she still hasn’t come to terms with. Then Owen can’t forgive her because that lie makes him feel like everything about their relationship has been a lie.

As for the show choosing to introduce and explore Teddy’s deep love for Allison this late into Teddy's tenure I'm of two minds. On the one hand, I wish they had introduced or hinted at Teddy being bisexual or being in love with Allison earlier on in the series as it would have made more sense and been less of a shock. On the other hand, I've really enjoyed seeing the show explore this storyline more and dive deep into what trauma does to people and how the devastation of losing someone in a tragic incident such as 9/11 can make you close off parts of yourself. The actress who plays Allison, Sherri Saum, does a fantastic job and her and Kim Raver, who plays Teddy, have great chemistry. I found their scenes particularly moving.

As for Owen’s behaviour in this episode, while I understand why Owen was upset, I felt it was hypocritical of him to be so mad at Teddy for not telling him that her and Allison were lovers when he got involved with and married both Cristina and Amelia without telling them that Teddy existed. They both found out after or around the time they got married to him that he was in love with Teddy when she showed up in Seattle. What Teddy did was awful, but Owen's no saint. He's done just as bad and worse. I think it's time for him to let go of his animosity toward her and forgive her. I'm also just really sick of watching them fight all the time. No thank you.

As Amelia says to Owen in this episode, forgiving her doesn't mean that they get back together. It can simply mean that he chooses to let go of his angry and work through his emotions so that they can be friends and co-parent together as he and Amelia have done. I thought Amelia was great in this episode. We saw her step up and advocate for Teddy and counsel Owen even though she didn’t have to.

She told Owen what he needed to hear knowing he was likely to listen to her more than others. She supported Teddy and advocated for her even though she didn't have to because that's who Amelia is and she wants Teddy to experience the same sanity and peace that she's attained now that she's had her brain tumour removed and has her addiction under control. Plus, I think she genuinely wants Owen to be happy and for the kids that they are all raising together to be happy. Happy parents make for happy children. She wants that for them.

Amelia has grown so so much in the past few seasons. She’s gone from someone who was mentally unstable and out of control to the point that she refused help for what were clearly serious issues for literal years and then treated Meredith horribly after Derek’s death and made everything about her and whined and complained when Owen and Meredith pointed out that she wasn’t the only one who missed Derek and that Meredith did not have the luxury of falling apart because she had three small children who need her to someone who is sane and stable and has her addiction under control to the point that she is able to advocate and help others and is able to support Meredith and look after her kids with kindness and compassion.

I loved the Beth and Cristina mentions in this episode and all of the flashbacks especially the early one to when Teddy first shows up and we the audience learn that her and Owen have been in love forever, but he's with Cristina and before that he was engaged to Beth. In this episode we saw Meredith and DeLuca accompany and guide Teddy throughout her dreamscapes which I thought worked really well.

I loved seeing Meredith up and about and talking to Teddy and guiding her through her trauma and her response to it. Meredith is Teddy's patient, she wants her to live, and because Cristina and Amelia are her sisters and she's known Owen by extension for a long time she has information that's useful to Teddy so I thought that made sense. I particularly loved the field of bodies scene in the snow where Teddy is blaming herself for Allison, Henry, and DeLuca’s death and Meredith’s tells her there’s nothing she could have done.

Then at the end Meredith says to her, “Come on let’s leave this place.” And Teddy looks at her and says, “Please don’t die.” And Meredith says, “I’ll try.” I thought was funny and also very poignant. DeLuca helping to guide her made sense to me in that he was someone she worked with closely during the pandemic and who died on her table. She desperately wanted to turn back time and save him the same way she wanted to save Allison, her parents, and Henry.

While I’ve never been a DeLuca fan, I genuinely thought his scenes in this episode were funny and the actor had good comedic timing. The road trip with Tom and DeLuca was hilarious. It makes me wonder what the character could have been if they gone with a more comedic route. What would have happened if in Season 15 instead of pivoting and going in a completely differently direction they had stayed the course and after getting his mojo back had him continue to pursue Neurosurgery as a speciality, had Amelia continue to mentor him, and given him more comedic dialogue.

I think that really could have worked well because from Seasons 12 to 14 DeLuca worked well as a side character and in a supporting role. I didn’t have a particularly strong opinion on the character back then and I only started to hate him as a character in Season 15 when they turned him into a complete asshole who was rude and disrespectful to everybody for no good reason. Presumably out of fondness for the actor they decided to give him a bigger role in Season 15 and made the choice to pivot from him having a supporting role to a romantic storyline and then a dramatic one.

Which was a real shame because it took DeLuca from being a decent side character that most fans either liked or were neutral on to being a real asshole that most fans hated and couldn’t stand. The reality is that character and that actor just didn’t work in a romantic storyline with the main character and his mental health storyline did not come across as intended. I think that’s because the actor and character were best suited to a supporting or comedic role and just didn’t work as a romantic lead or in a dramatic storyline.

My favourite scene of the episode was when Tom and Teddy were in the hotel room and the grenade suddenly appeared and then it went off! I didn't expect it to actually go off and blow up Tom! That shocked me and made for an interesting transition. I really liked seeing more of Tom in this episode. He’s a great character and he’s contracting of COVID-19 has really sidelined him recently so I enjoyed seeing him back in action. The actor, Greg Germann, has great comedic timing so that was a treat to see and I loved seeing more of Tom and Teddy together at the hotel room.

Until next time!

[tsuki-chibi]

Adrinette April Day 14: New York

This is a direct continuation of my Marinette March entry, which can be read on AO3.

You can also read this story on AO3: Tempest

---

The look of surprise on his face just about broke Marinette’s head. She should have known that he would be doubting himself. Chat had always been his own worst critic; it just hadn’t occurred to her that meant Adrien would be his own worst critic too.

“Do you mean that?” Adrien asked finally, searching her face.

“I absolutely mean it. Nothing could break us apart,” Marinette said firmly, because she might not know a lot of things right now but she did know that. She would never blame Adrien for not knowing that Gabriel was Hawkmoth. The very idea was ludicrous. Gabriel had clearly done everything he could to keep his identity a secret, and Adrien had been doing the same thing.

“Even though this whole thing is my fault?” Adrien said.

Marinette frowned. “What do you mean?”

He looked away then, back down at the bedspread, and said, “He attacked me first. That means he figured out I’m Chat Noir. So… at some point I must not have been careful enough or something like that.”

“You don’t know that. I believe you were careful, but even if you weren’t and slipped up, mistakes happen,” Marinette replied, thinking about all of the near misses that she and Tikki had experienced. Adrien had been at even more of a disadvantage since he hadn’t known that his father knew about the miraculous. There would be no passing off Plagg as a stuffed animal, which was something Marinette had done with her parents for Tikki several times.

“And… you’re not disappointed that I’m Chat Noir?” Adrien’s voice came out so small. Too small. Impulsively, she leaned over and grabbed his hand.

“Not at all,” she said softly. “I’m really happy that you’re Chat, actually. Sometimes… I used to be a little worried that Chat would be a total stranger under the mask. My friend, but also… not. If you know what I mean.”

Adrien exhaled and nodded, lacing their fingers together. “I know what you mean. I used to have nightmares that Chloé was Ladybug.”

“I know,” Marinette said, making a face.

“Then after we met Lila, all my nightmare became about you losing your mind and offering Lila a miraculous,” Adrien went on. A small, mischievous smile crossed his face as he glanced up at her. “I guess I don’t need to worry about that happening, huh? Now I know why Ladybug hated Lila so much.”

“It wasn’t one of my best moments,” Marinette admitted.

Adrien chuckled. “We’ve both had our fair share of screw-ups, though this one definitely takes the cake.”

“That it does,” Marinette said. She was glad that Adrien seemed to be feeling a little better. The last thing she wanted was for him to genuinely think she wanted anyone else as Chat Noir.

She couldn’t even think about the fact that she loved Adrien, and that Chat Noir loved Ladybug, right now. Because while that meant they were actually in love with each other, they just didn’t have the time to deal with it. And that was massively unfair, because this was the moment that Marinette had been waiting for – and, she thought, a moment that Adrien had probably been waiting for too.

Soon, Marinette promised herself.

Someday soon, she’d grab this silly cat and kiss the daylights out of him.

But for now, she squeezed his hand and said, “I thought we should try talking to the other kwamis, especially Wayzz. He was Master Fu’s kwami for years. They might be able to give some suggestions on what we should do next.”

“Too bad Master Fu himself isn’t here,” Adrien said.

Marinette sighed. “Last I heard, he and Marianne were taking a visit to New York. But yeah, I wish he was too. He would definitely know what to do.”

They exchanged unhappy looks. Marinette knew that there were a lot of things that the kwamis didn’t know. Things only a guardian was supposed to know. But so much knowledge had been lost when Master Fu’s memories were erased. Knowledge that he just hadn’t had the time to pass over to Marinette. Knowledge that she had no other way of getting. It sucked, but they were just going to have to muddle along on their own.

“Well, maybe Wayzz will know what to do,” Adrien said with forced cheerfulness. “Where’s the Miracle Box?”

It was weird to hear someone other than Tikki or Marinette herself say those words out loud underneath the bakery’s roof. Weird, but also kinda good. Marinette smiled at him and got up. While Adrien was sleeping, she had taken the liberty of going over her bedroom and removing any incriminating evidence of her wild crush on him. So she had no qualms about taking him upstairs.

“It’s upstairs in my bedroom. Come on.”

[divineluce]

Let’s Marvin Gaye and Get These Lizards Out || Rosalyn & Luce

Timing: Backdated to April 21st, 2021

Tagging: @truecolorcollector & @divineluce

Location: Rosalyn’s Apartment

Description: Rosalyn needs help evicting some unexpected roommates, Luce offers a hand. Chaos ensues.

Was Luce the most in touch with nature? Not really. Not in the conventional sense, at least. She hiked, she’d lived in the woods, she felt more comfortable out in her cabin surrounded by the sounds of the forest than she did other places. But she wasn’t a tree hugging hippy or deluded enough into thinking that nature was all sunshine and rainbows. She’d been chased down by too many monsters in the woods to think that. Either way, it didn’t really matter if she was some nature girl or not-- she knew fire salamanders. And more importantly, she was still fireproof. Her flames might have left her, but at least she still had that. Grabbing the hamster cage from her passenger seat, Luce made her way to the apartment building and texted the number to let the woman know she was here. As the door swung open, Luce held up the cage and nodded, “Someone looking for lizard removal?”

Rosalyn had been eating lunch at her small dining room table when she saw something skitter across the floor out of the corner of her eye, nearly making her choke on her sandwich. Her first instinct was to grab her glass of water to chuck it at the creature. Luckily for it, it managed to quickly scramble under a large cardboard box and Rosalyn stopped herself before she could dump water all over her stuff. Then the text came in, as if on queue, and Rosalyn rushed downstairs

“Perfect timing!” Rosalyn said slightly frazzled from running to get the door. “And I’m not being hyperbolic. I actually managed to see where one of them went.” With that, she motioned for Luce to follow and made her way up the steps to her apartment.

The apartment was nice, if a bit cluttered, a good portion of the large living area taken up by an L-shaped work desk and large shelves packed with boxes and other containers. Not to mention several moving boxes still strewn about.

“Sorry, that wasn’t really a proper greeting.” Even as Rosalyn spoke she was scanning the room for signs of any other lizards. “Rosalyn Holt. And you’re Luce?”

A blonde woman who Luce didn’t recognize opened the door and ushered her in quickly. “Oh hey, lucky me.” Luce said as she looked around the apartment, taking in the moving boxes and slight disarray of the space. No wonder she didn’t look familiar-- this lady must have just moved into town. And already her place was infested with fire salamanders? Christ, that sucked. Not everyone had fireproof houses like she did. Looking around, Luce could already spot a few places that Iggy would love if he was here. A bunch of crumpled up packing paper, perfect kindling for a nice warm fire. Some flattened cardboard boxes that would be excellent material to chew on. Setting down the cage, Luce held out a hand, “Yep. Luce Vural, unofficial sa-- specialty lizard wrangler.” She said with a nod. “Seems like White Crest is giving you a nice warm welcome with these guys.”

Surveying the area, she asked, “Do you have a fireplace? Lizards. They like warmth-- starting a fire could draw them out.” Yeah, it’d sure as hell draw them out, they’d want to get it on in the coals. _

As Roslyn shook the woman’s hand she tried not to get distracted by the mirage-like purple shimmer rising off of Luce like heat off of blacktop. In her rush upstairs she hadn’t even noticed until, not until they were standing in the living room with Luce looking around. So this woman was a spellcaster? That was promising.

“Go figure the landlord wouldn’t mention the springtime roommates I’d be getting. And I’ve got-” Rosalyn looked towards her kitchen with a sigh. “An oven. And matches. Not sure if that works for whatever you're planning but I’m not exactly eager to set my fire alarms off if we can avoid it.”

As she finished speaking a rustling sound came from near one of the shelves, close to where she saw the lizard duck under the box. She pointed. “Oh right. Lucky me, one of them decided to get into my supplies. Anything else that draws them out? Food? What do those things even eat?” The rustling grew louder and Rosalyn furrowed her brow. They better not have a taste for jewelry supplies and werewolf fur, otherwise this was about to turn into a much more expensive problem.

“If it makes you feel better, this sorta thing doesn’t happen often. It’s like cicadas. Some springs they’re super active and other times no dice. Guess you just happened to move in during a bad year.” Luce said, not entirely sure if what she was saying was true or not. Iggy was being a little more antsy than normal, trying to get free from his terrarium more than he usually did. But, Bea’s house had wards around it that made the bracelet around her wrist ping when people came or left, so she’d always been able to scoop him back up when he’d scuttled off the property line.  “Hm. In the interest of not blowing both our ears out, I think I’ll try something different.” She said, rummaging around in the cage for the paper bag she’d shoved in there.

“I’ve got something that might work. It could lure them out.” Luce said. Iggy, like most growing fire salamanders, shed his scales. And Luce didn’t know much about animals, but hey. Maybe the smell of a fire salamander in the prime of his life would lure out some of the lady salamanders? Who the fuck knew. Worst came to worst, she’d just shake the boxes and try to grab them. But, as luck would have it, before she even had a chance to shake some of the scales out into the cage, Rosalyn had pointed out a rustle of movement. Setting the cage down, Luce began to poke around the boxes, eyes focused on any kind of movement. Out of the corner of her eye, she saw a tell-tale glimmer of scales and she darted forward, hand closing around a squirming, scaly body. “Gotcha! Hey! Knock it off!” She gasped as the fire salamander’s scales glowed the color of coals. If she was a normal human, it would have burnt her skin, but all she felt was a light warmth. The fire salamander stared at her as though it was startled she wasn’t hopping up and down in pain. “I’ve got one. Can you grab the cage for me?”

“So just something that I’ll keep having to deal with every couple of years, that sounds lovely.” Rosalyn's tone was joking but she certainly hoped that one lizard extraction was all she would need. As Luce pulled out a paper bag she quirked up an eyebrow, curious. “What’s in there?”

But before she could find out there was more rustling and Luce was off to search the area. The sight of her grabbing the glowing creature in her hands made Rosalyn flinch before she realized that Luce wasn’t smoking or shouting in pain. “So they really are fiery...” I mean, there were clearly signs that they weren’t some normal pest before this, but seeing the unnatural glow up close made it clear. Rosalyn watched the squirming creature curiously. It was rare that she got to see supernatural animals up close.

“Is that thing not as hot as it seems, or do you just have some tricks up your sleeve?” Rosalyn shot Luce a knowing look as she brought the cage over. Well that was one down. Hopefully just one more to go. She didn’t want to think about the idea of any more than two hidden around her place.

“Only if you’re unlucky. These guys don’t usually hang out in this part of town.” Luce said as she kept her hand clamped around the squirming salamander in her hand. She could tell that they weren’t exactly to have their time interrupted. She couldn’t blame the salamander-- she wouldn’t exactly be thrilled if someone barged into her room when she was trying to get it on. But, this was better than Rosalyn accidentally murdering two horny salamanders with a hose. “Fiery? Nah… Just, uh,” Luce looked again at the angry glow of the salamander’s body, the red and orange pulsing like the coals of a fire. “Trick of the light.” She said before gently sticking the salamander into the cage.

Opening up the bag of shed scales, Luce dumped some into her palm before scattering them on the ground. “Scales, from the same kind of lizard. They release a kind of pheromone when they’re trying to hook up, so I figure this might lure the other one out.” She said before glancing over at the other woman and holding up her hands, arms bare in her tank top. “No sleeves and no tricks either.” She said with a neutral tone. “I’m just good with lizards.”

“Do tricks of the light normally smell like burning?” Rosalyn asked with a quirked eyebrow. At least she could trust it wasn’t that hot, or the cage Luce was holding would be having a much worse time. Then again, she knew little about what this creature was capable of, or Luce for that matter.

“So you’ve had your own infestation before?” Rosalyn asked before grimacing as the scales fell against her hardwood floors. She hoped Luce didn’t expect her to pick that up herself. Then again... “Are these creatures rare? Or their scales at least? Just asking since you seem to know a lot about them.” Right now they seemed just like little black specks, but she wondered how easy it would be to get them to glow like the angry one in Luce’s hand had been. But if they were worth something Rosalyn couldn’t imagine a spellcaster just scattering them around for bait.

Well, Rosalyn had a point there. Luce shrugged, knowing when she was caught in a lie. No point trying to pretend like shit wasn’t magical as hell when this lady didn’t seem all that bothered by it. “Touché.” She said as she looked around the house, waiting to see where the next salamander might pop out from. “Nope, never dealt with an infestation before, I have one myself.” Luce said as she nudged some cardboard boxes aside, looking around for the other salamander. At the question of rarity, Luce cocked an eyebrow. “Why do you ask?” They weren’t rare at all-- the salamanders, or their scales, but it was a weird question all the same. All signs were pointing to the fact that this lady was in the know with the supernatural. Which, cool. Good for her. Luce just couldn’t help but wonder what brand of strange she was. She looked human, but pretty much everyone did under the right circumstances.

Out of the corner of her eye, Luce caught sight of some of the boxes rustling and she grinned. Nice, looked like the scales had worked. “Come here little guy,” She said, shifting the boxes out of the way. As she pulled the last one back, Luce blinked as she was face to face with a spitting, sparking salamander, the frill around its throat puffed out and a deep scarlet color, “Ah shit…” She muttered as the salamander burnt a hole straight through the cardboard boxes and began to skitter across the floor in a trail of sparks and sputtering flames.

“So...as a pet?” Rosalyn didn’t like to judge (okay she did sometimes) but a flaming lizard seemed like a less than ideal pet. She was about to answer Luce’s question to her when nearby rustling distracted both of them. While Luce pushed around the boxes Rosalyn picked up a bit of scale from the floor and looked it over. But she barely had time to inspect it before she heard cursing and smelled smoke.

Rosalyn's first instinct was to rush toward the now on fire boxes. Or try to at least. But before she could even move a streak of black and orange rushed across the floor towards her feet. Rosalyn shrieked as she stumbled back, nearly falling as the creature hissed and charged towards the nearby kitchen.

A slew of curses came out of Rosalyn’s mouth as she watched the thing leave singe marks in its wake. But her attention quickly turned back towards the boxes. In any other moment Rosalyn would have been fully aware of how dumb it was to try to kick out the flames. But the moment she smelt burning hair she knew the fire was spreading to the bottom shelf and panic took over. “Fire extinguisher! Under the sink!” She shouted to Luce. Rosalyn would grab it herself if she wasn’t too busy pulling boxes from the shelf before they could catch and stomping on embers. A few burns were worth not losing her entire stock.

As much as Luce would have liked to correct Rosalyn on the fact that no, it wasn’t like a pet at all, she was a bit preoccupied. The fire salamander was hissing and spitting,hell bent on tearing up the apartment as it ran along the floors. Sparks filled the air as the lizard made a break for the kitchen. Staring at the boxes that had caught on fire, Luce’s eyes widened. Shit. She was pretty fireproof, but with her magic being what it was… she didn’t want to risk trying to smother the flames with her hands. Taking a deep breath in, she tried to pull the fire to her will, tried to focus on the magic within her. But, the magical flames lay dormant, unmoving. Cold. Fuck.

“Fire extinguisher, okay!” Luce called out, following the salamander into the kitchen. The creature had climbed up onto the countertop via a dish towel that had been hanging from the oven. The fabric was already in flames and Luce let out a startled yelp as the fire leaped to a nearby roll of paper towels. Jesus fucking christ, was this what normal people dealt with? Shit just bursting into flames? Running to the sink, Luce grabbed the fire extinguisher from underneath. She pulled the pin from the neck and aimed the nozzle at the ball of flaming paper towels before tossing the dish towel on the ground and stomping it out with her foot. The salamander, seeing the flames going out, let out a frightened shriek and its frills shrank back into its neck. “I’m not trying to hurt you! Get back--” Luce said as the salamander made a bee-line back to the living room, towards Rosalyn. Even from here, Luce could smell the acrid scent of burning hair filling the room. Jesus, why the fuck did this lady have hair in the boxes?

Pulling what she could from the lower levels of the shelf was only going to help Rosalyn so much if the fire kept spreading. She turned to shout at Luce to hurry, but as she looked towards the kitchen she could see the woman shooting the fire extinguisher at even more flames. Not even a few weeks into moving to White Crest and was she already going to have her entire apartment burn down?

It was at this point that the fire alarm started blaring above them. Rosalyn wasn’t sure if it was a blessing or curse that this apartment didn’t have built in sprinklers. She kicked the still burning boxes across the floor, away from where all her creature parts and craft items were being stored. As she did she could hear Luce attempting to reason with the creature, and then moments later Rosalyn was again being charged by the fiery monster.

No way in hell she was grabbing that thing the way that Luce had. In panic Rosalyn grabbed one of the shoebox sized plastic containers she kept jewelry pliers and other small tools in and flipped it over onto the creature. She crouched on the floor, putting her weight on the plastic box as she heard the creature hiss and felt it ram itself against the plastic sides. The plastic was partially opaque, but she could still see the glowing orange of the creature inside. And feel the box start to heat up as whiffs of melting plastic started to hit her nose.

“Can’t you just dump water on it!”

A fire witch using a fucking fire extinguisher, Jesus. And, even as she was putting out the last of the flaming dish rag, Luce could hear the fire alarms begin to blare in her ears. Great, more chaos. Looking around the kitchen, Luce saw a glass pitcher of water resting on counter as Rosalyn shouted at her. “Water kills them! I’m not killing him for wanting to get it on!” Luce shouted back at the woman. But… the pitcher. Hm. Grabbing the pitcher, she dumped the water down the sink and raced back into the other room. It looked even more like a disaster zone, with tools flung over the place and boxes still burning. But, she needed to focus on the source of the fire, where was-- her eyes fell on the woman struggling on top of a rapidly melting plastic tub.

“Here,” Luce set the fire extinguisher next to the woman, “For the boxes. Take the tub off him and back up. Don’t. Spray. The salamander. I’m going to stick him in this.” She said, holding up the glass pitcher. “They have a hard time climbing out of glass and it’s not that easy to melt through it. Just let him out and I’ll grab him.”

“He is burning my apartment down!” Yes, Rosalyn would shame this stupid lizard for being horny if it meant her entire livelihood was set ablaze because of it. Not to mention the danger her and Luce were in if this got more out of hand. Luckily Luce seemed to have a plan. For a moment Rosalyn glanced between the pitcher and the plastic container under her, debating whether she trusted Luce to scoop it up in time before the creature ran off to another part of her home to cause chaos. But with a quick nod to Luce she pulled the tub off of the lizard and grabbed the extinguisher instead.

As soon as she did Rosalyn started spraying the boxes, and the bottom shelf for good measure. Did fire extinguisher foam mess with the magic properties of werewolf and bugbear fur? Who fucking knew but it didn’t matter at this point. As the flames were put out Rosalyn glanced back towards the other woman, praying she wouldn’t see her chasing the thing around again.

Rosalyn had a point there. God, was this what being a normal human in White Crest was like? Having to worry about shit like fires burning down your home? But, Luce didn’t have much time to dwell on that because the tub had been pulled off the salamander and suddenly she was face to face with an angry salamander, frills puffed out and a vibrant red. Before he could run away, Luce grabbed the squirming creature in her hand and shoved it into the bottom of the pitcher. Fingers smoking slightly, Luce shook out her hand as she watched the salamander scrabble against the side of the pitcher. But, just like she’d guessed-- because it really was a fucking guess, she wasn’t an expert-- he was unable to get any traction. Exhausted, the salamander slumped in the bottom of the glass, leftover droplets of water sizzling against his scales as he stared angrily at her with beedy, orange eyes.

Letting out a sigh, Luce held up the pitcher. “Got him! Sorry about,” She glanced around at the smoke filled apartment, the fire alarms still blaring, extinguisher foam coating at least a quarter of this woman’s apartment. “All of that. You’re okay though, right?”

Rosalyn let out a sigh of relief when she heard Luce shout that she got him. Placing the used up extinguisher on the ground (great, now she would need to buy a new one) she ran her hands down her face, giving herself a moment to just breathe and not look at the utter mess in front of her.

“I’m fine. I think I might have burned my hands a little but-” Rosalyn could see a few blisters forming along her palm and fingertips. Nothing that wouldn’t heal with time but something that would make picking up everything and crafting a pain in the ass for a while. “I’m fine. But you wouldn’t happen to have-” Healing magic. She wanted to ask about healing magic but she tried to be careful about outing people’s powers on the spot. Then again, they were both past the point of dealing with anything a normal person should be handling.

“Magic. Do you have anything that can heal? Your hands seemed pretty protected and,” Rosalyn waved vaguely at the shimmering purple around Luce that only she could see. “I can tell. Don’t worry, I’m used to spellcasters.”

The salamander continued to skitter up the side of the pitcher, but the sloping sides were too steep and he eventually gave up and curled into glowing ball of orange and red in the bottom of the glass. Luce lowered the pitcher carefully, watching to see how the female salamander in the cage might react. The creature blinked at her with interest, but didn’t show any of the aggression the male had. Good. Turning to Rosalyn, Luce grimaced at the sight of the woman’s hands. “Ouch. Sorry about that.” She said with a shrug as she picked up the cage in her free hand. “Aloe might help. Burn cream too.” That was what people said, right?

But, at the mention of magic, Luce nearly dropped the cage. “Siktir,” She swore quietly, catching the cage before the salamander could break free. “Uh. No. I don’t. And that’s not me pretending that I’m not a witch.” She said, shrugging. “You saw me pick them up. But, no, I don’t have anything that can heal burns.” All her life, her mother had been the one to patch her up, to fix her scrapes and bruises. But she didn’t have that card in her back pocket anymore. At least… She didn’t. This lady, if she knew about spellcasters, she’d probably be alright. Right? And she’d gotten hurt because Luce hadn’t been careful enough. “I know someone who would be able to help you, though. Her name’s Nisa Vural. You might have seen ads about her acupuncture clinic. She does magical healing stuff too. Tell her a friend in silver sent you. And,” Luce said, her voice taking on a more serious tone, “Don’t, don’t tell her that I sent you.

“Mhhm.” If she wanted to lie to Rosalyn about having magic she certainly could. Maybe people in White Crest were a bit more cagey than she was used to back home. Not that the spellcasters she met in the city weren’t, but most wouldn’t try to hide what they were if they were willing to do magical stuff in the same room as her.

“Nisa Vural, a friend in silver, got it.” Rosalyn smiled. “Don’t worry, I'm good with discretion.” Maybe not the best statement to make after calling out the woman’s aura but it was true. She wasn’t one to go around telling others things they didn’t need to know. Not unless there was a good reason for it. If anyone asked, Luce was a normal person who had definitely not told her about possible healing magic.

Rosalyn glanced around at the destruction but quickly stopped herself. If she took stock now she was going to want to pull her hair out and Luce didn’t need to see her freaking out over the state of the apartment. “Thanks for the help. Do you have a plan for what to do with them?” she asked, motioning toward the cage.

“Appreciate it. A little bit of discretion goes a long way in this town.” Luce said with a firm nod. It was true. As often as weird shit happened here, they all had to just go along pretending like White Crest was just a quirky little town. “But yeah. She’ll be able to get you fixed up no problem.” She repeated, though the words made her ache. It had been over six months since she and her sisters had been excommunicated, banished from their coven and blotted out from their own family. And even though she’d seen her mother, had tested the bond of mother and child over duty and oaths to the coven… Luce didn’t want to push it. The less Nisa knew about what was going on in her life, the better.

Seeing how Rosalyn was looking around the apartment, Luce winced. Her place looked like… well, it looked like shit. Burnt boxes, dissolving foam leaving smears of chalky white against the floor, and the alarms still screeching overhead. “I’m going to release them in the woods, I know a place that should be safe for them.” A gully at the end of a creek that ran through the outskirts, a nice damp spot that would be perfect for the lovebugs.

“I’d offer to stick around and help clean up, but I get the feeling you want these guys outta here right now.” She said and shrugged. “Let me know if you ever need help again. I know a thing or two about stuff here, I can lend a hand if you need it.” With that, Luce headed out the door of the apartment, fire salamanders in tow. She couldn’t help but wonder how the woman had clocked her as a witch, but… it didn’t matter right now. The cage in her hand rattled as the female salamander sent a wave of sparks in the air. “If you light my Jeep on fire, you’ll wish I let that lady dump water on you guys.” She warned before sticking the salamanders in her car and speeding off.

[elysiangalaxy]

Fire Signs Love Reading (April 2021)

I wanted my first post to be a channeled love tarot reading. What will be going on in love for your zodiac sign in the month of April. Keep in mind this is a general reading and it can apply to your Sun, Moon and Rising signs. 

Aries - QoC rx, PoW rx, 4oS, QoP rx, Tower rx

You are still emotionally attached to someone who you are no longer talking to. Your connection might have ended some weeks ago but you may still e waiting for things to get better. You are trying to detach yourself from this situation but is taking you some time. Be careful not to read old texts, not to look at old pictures/videos that will revive what you two once had. This connection was there to teach you a lesson. That’s it. If you haven’t been *really* focusing on yourself lately than the QoC and QoP both reversed are telling you that now would be a good time to do that. Spending time in nature, starting a new beauty routine, maybe a new health routine; working out, eating healthier. There’s a need for you to observe your feelings and actions this month as they will reveal what you have been refusing to heal. These could be wounds from your childhood or maybe wounds that this latest connection left in you. But the cards are strongly encouraging you to observe your actions and feelings as they need to be released immediately. Another message that is coming through for you is don’t be afraid of change as it is blocking your intuition. Have you been in a codependent relationship for a long time? Because this to me feels like you’re scared of opening yourself up to new romantic options. It’s like your intuition is trying to tell you that that connection is over, that person was there to teach you a lesson just like you were there to teach that person a lesson but you’re not paying attention to it. If you were in a co-dependent, unhealthy relationship and you’re still attached to that person maybe this could reveal childhood wounds that you have suppressed or that you are trying to get away from. Tarot is saying the month of April is for you to focus on yourself, your healing, what you want to do, where you want to be. It’s a month for you to clear the old and get ready for the new. I feel like there’s a big change coming for you in love beyond April but if you are still focused on the old, you won’t leave any space for the new. Black obsidian is a great and powerful crystal to help us bring forth any emotional wounds that we’re not aware of, it removed negative energy and is good for everything. If you have a black obsidian that would be great. But rose quartz and amathyst are good for healing and self love too. 

Leo -

As I was shuffling the cards I noticed a heaviness in my head. I felt pressure and slight pain in my head almost like I have been crying for hours over something or someone. I get the feeling that you’re crying because you feel like you’ve lost someone you loved

You had the 3oS, 8oC, 6oW rx, 5oS rx. Leo you are going through a major heartbreak right now and I’m so sorry for that. You are the most hopeless romantic sign together with Pisces, you’re always getting hurt in love. You walked away from someone and it was so painful for you to do so. That connection was full of fights and mind games, full of breaking up and getting back together. I’m not saying that it was all bad, but the bad definitely outweighed the good. You tried to hold onto the little bit of goodness in that relationship but you couldn’t anymore. That connection was draining and exhausting for you mentally, emotionally and spiritually. The 6 of Wands is one of the cards that represents Leo and it’s in reverse. You’re not feeling like yourself anymore. You have lost yourself in this connection. The bad part is that deep down you still want to reconcile with this person. I feel guided to pull some advice cards for you Leo. QoP, AoS, 3oP and QoS rx popped up. Don’t be scared to open up to your mom, grand mom, your friend or a loving woman in your life. A woman who is like a mother figure to you, will stay close to you and will be of great help through this heartbreak. If you have a idea for a new project , start it. Most importantly avoid any type of communication or connection with that past person. Avoid listening to songs that remind you of him/her/them, don’t look at old pictures, old messages. Completely detach yourself from that person, block them. Don’t give them an opportunity to come back and manipulate you into going back to that situation. Don’t delay your healing. You need to heal from that person, allow yourself to cry to that mother figure, let all the pain out but don’t go back to that connection. This is a time to release, cleanse. Just like I told Aries, crystals like obsidian, rose quartz and amethyst are great in aiding you through healing. If you don’t have crystals and simply don’t believe they will do anything for you, then I would suggest you spend time in nature, with your loved ones or pets. I know with everything that’s going on right now it may be difficult but find a way. Being alone helps with releasing some of that grief but I see that being close to loved ones (especially a female figure could be a Taurus, Virgo or Capricorn woman) will aid you. Avoid overindulging in food, alcohol, drugs (escapism). STAY AWAY FROM SOCIAL MEDIA. Don’t be all over Instagram posting quotes or on Twitter sub-tweeting. That will only make you look bad and desperate. Don’t wait on getting back with that person either. April for you will be all about dealing with your sadness, releasing all your pain, getting in touch with your loved ones and yourself again. You deserve to be surrounded with love after all you’ve been through. 

Sagittarius - Magician rx + 8oC, 4oS, World rx, Hermit rx

Of course these cards would pop up in a Sag love reading😂 Have you recently walked away from a connection because it got boring? Or maybe you got away from a manipulative person. The 8oC, 4oS, World rx and Hermit rx are all cards of withdrawal I don’t know what else to say. The World card reverse (rx) and the 8oC is telling me that although you have walked away from a connection, there is still some type of attachment lingering. There are still some feelings there, reminiscing about the past and not wanting it to be over yet. If this connection has been stagnant for a while, if you two have not been communicating at all, this can mean that either you or the other person is thinking about coming back. Someone (or both of you) is thinking whether or not is a good idea to come back, to revisit this again or not. If you have worked on yourselves after this connection was over, then I don’t see why not communicate again. You both still have feelings for each other, you think about each other a lot (at least one person does). The world rx can also mean someone being blocked on social media lol. There’s unfinished business between you two. At least that’s how you feel. If you are not stuck on a past person these cards could mean that you are too closed off for love. You’ve withdrawn from love for so long that you may have just become too comfortable being alone. Think about what you really want in April. If you still have feelings for someone from the past, then don’t be afraid to communicate with them. If you want new love then put yourself out there. Be open to give and receive love. 

This was the general - channeled and tarot fire sign love reading for April. Leo had it the worst. I’m so sorry Leo💙

[aparrotandaqrow]

Hineni

I went to shul for Rosh Hashanah services earlier this week. It was my first time being physically present at shul in 18 months; I was home to finally visit my family. I hadn’t thought I would go to services, since they would be in person, and with the delta variant surging, I didn’t think it would be safe. My dad was slated to lead Musaf services, though, and I dreaded the tension it would bring to have him go to services, in person, on Rosh Hashanah, one of our holiest days, while I stayed home out of a conviction that going would be unsafe. In the end, my father did not lead services, and services were moved outdoors, due to my father needing kidney stones removed (he’s okay) and his replacement urging for safer, outdoor services. We both went, and enjoyed services together for the first time in almost two years.

The rabbis (we have two) both spoke during their sermons on the respective days of the importance of the word “Hineni”--”Here I am.” It’s a word that shows up several times in the Torah, and is the title of a prayer chanted by the person who leads Musaf during High Holy Day services. In the Torah, it is a response to a question, “Ayeka?”--“Where are you?” The prayer is also an answer--as if to say, here I stand before you, in my entirety, hoping to lead my congregation in prayer and repentance. I hope it’s good enough.

In the Torah, God asks Adam, after he has eaten the fruit, “Ayeka?” Adam does not answer, and instead hides. But Abraham, Jacob, and Moses all respond “Hineni” when God calls out to them. The prophet Isaiah declares that when the people turn to deeds of justice to repent for their sins, rather than meaningless self-flagellation, then when the people cry out to God for relief, God too will respond, “Hineni.”

“Hineni” is meant to be an expression of readiness, and of humility before the task. A reassurance that we are present, and committed to help.

When Abraham responds, “Hineni,” it is at the end of a long list of difficult crises, including the banishment of his son Ishmael and his mother, Hagar. The sages, the rabbi pointed out, teach that Abraham did not say “Hineni” with the vim and vigor of someone eager to go into battle, eager to leap into the task. He said it almost reflexively, as easily as a breath. He was present, and simply being present for God’s next task was his default state of being.

The other rabbi spoke about how climate change is a task that calls for us to say, “Hineni.” We may cry out to God in the face of such adversities that climate change will bring, "Ayeka?" But God might respond, "Hineni; ayeka?"

"I am here, but where are you?"

We must be present, we must each see our own role in the fight, and commit to facing it, rather than turning away from the task. Not a single one of us will solve the problem, and most of us won’t live to see it solved, but we can’t desist.

Rabbi Tamar, speaking on the second day, spoke about the pandemic. And how sometimes it feels like each day we have to say, “Hineni,” and keep going. One more day, after well over 500, after hardship upon hardship. One day more. Hineni.

I think this is something many of us Jews perhaps understood innately, and which gets to the root of my confusion and bewilderment at the behavior of many of my non-Jewish peers. Jews know suffering. As the Christians were screaming about Easter gatherings in April 2020, we Jews shook our heads, remembering our Passover Seders held over Zoom, which we had done without question so that we might save ourselves, our relatives, and our neighbors. So many people give up, decide the pandemic is over, and let their guard down. And then cases rise once more. So many people rail and scream against the prospect of another lockdown, insist it’s not fair, and refuse to wear their masks or socially distance.

They’re not wrong, either. None of it is fair. All of it sucks.

But, hineni. Living is struggling, but here I am. Here we are. One more day. Sometimes, this is simply the way of things. All we can do is be present for the immediate task before us, no matter how many tasks we have already been asked to complete. We don’t get to choose to not live a life of suffering; that is merely the hand we are dealt. But we accept it and we move on. We keep fighting. We survive. Hineni.

Some people view each day of the pandemic as a temporary inconvenience, a day stolen from their promised lives of plenty, which will need to be repaid.

I simply view each day as living. This is my life now, until the world changes and it isn’t. Until then, I simply live. My people suffered for millennia; why should my life be any different--so hineni. Here I am.

Every day, when I put on my mask, I perform the ritual. I take the steps that through the magic of science and public health, will protect myself, my loved ones, and the strangers around me.

Hineni. Here I am.

It is both an inhalation, the breath you take before lifting the heavy box, and an exhalation, the sigh of resignation as you go back inside for yet another box.

Hineni.

It is breathing.

Here I am.

When I log in to Zoom for Saturday morning services with my shul, each face staring at me through a small square on the screen, each of us apart, and together only through the internet--Hineni. Here I am.

As I walk the 10 kilometers to my bubblemate’s apartment, so neither of us has to be alone, and later as I walk the 10 kilometers home, each step taking me further away from my past, from the previous month, week, minute of isolation and pandemic hardship--Hineni. Here I am.

I trudge through the snow in the weak light of the setting winter sun, the sun and the snow my only companions for months, my bubblemate thankfully home with her family. A trail of footprints stretches behind me in the empty park, like words of Torah inscribed on parchment.

Each step--hineni.

I am here. I will not vanish, I will not shy from the task at hand. Hineni.

I take another step.

I type the words of my PhD dissertation, my mind and soul crushed by over half a year alone, but determined to finish the work of the past 6 years. My fish swim behind me in the home office I have constructed for myself. Hineni.

My feet pad softly across the concrete in the early morning, a long walk to a long-awaited destination. The nurse plunges the needle into my deltoid muscle, and I exhale through the momentary pain. Hineni. I thank her for being present with me, 14 kilometers and 14 months from home, and now one shot closer to returning. Hineni.

News of the delta variant grows, and Ontario pauses the reopening. The vaccines alone will not end the pandemic, and my trip home will not be the grand reunion I had anticipated.

I put my mask on as I leave, again, like each day before. Hineni.

The pandemic goes on, and so do I. Hineni.

This is what I could not understand, and also what those who screamed, and complained, and refused did not understand.

Each day I perform the rituals. I say the words, and take the steps that one day will end the pandemic. Hineni.

But they do not perform the rituals. They don’t know they’re supposed to say the words. They have been told what to do, but what they were told has changed, and they don’t understand. And I did not know that they do not understand.

When I say, “Hineni,” this is not a language they understand. They don’t know what it means to simply resolve yourself to yet another day, yet another week, another month, another year. To say, “Hineni.”

To not give up.

I thought Minnesotans would understand more than others; that our familiarity with storms would guide us. We know how to hunker down when the sirens go off, to go someplace safe and bow our heads until the storm has passed.

But storms never last; they are temporary. Now, Minnesotans shop at Target without their masks, as daily cases hit levels not seen in Toronto since the worst of the winter surges.

Perhaps if they knew that sometimes, all you can do is perform the ritual, and say the words. To wear your mask, and get your vaccine. To stay home with your loved ones. To say, “I am here. I am present.”

And hope that it will be enough.

That next year will be better.

Hineni.

[nightmarenoise]

Some thoughts on TMNT 2012

I finished watching the entirety of the TMNT 2012 series a while ago and boy, do I have some thoughts™. First of all though, the following is going to be my opinions and you’re free to disagree with them. If you feel like attacking me for expressing these opinions though, I’m just going to have to ask you to take a minute and consider that you are about to be a bitch online over an eight year old children’s animated show, and that maybe you should find something else to base your entire identity around. Secondly, I don’t hate the show, not by any means. It was fine. It was fine. It was fine, you guys. I wouldn’t have watched it otherwise. I watched usually about half a season per day because I have too much time on my hands but if I do more than 13 episodes, my puny brain will implode. That being said, I understand that the binge watching might have affected my judgement, because having to wait for a new episode to air each week hits different, I know. Still, I came home after work each day, cozied up in bed and watched 13 episodes of turtle shenanigans before going to sleep and my sleep schedule has never been better. But I digress. Also, I will compare 2012 to Rise, because that’s the only other TMNT show I’ve seen and because this is my post and I want to and it’s only initially.

I feel like the main difference between Rise and 2012 is that Rise is a character-driven show, while 2012 is ultimately plot-driven.

Why do things in Rise happen? Because a character wants something (the boys want to buy their dad a nw robe, April wants to spend a normal day with her new friend, etc, those are just from the top of my head). The motivations are ultimately mundane, and then the story goes from there.

Why do things in 2012 happen? Because the plot said so. Sure, the characters grow and change, but they’re ultimately vehicles for the plot. We don’t really take a minute to let the characters breathe. Usually, things happen because the Turtles saw something on patrol and they’re on patrol because they know the plot is waiting out there to get them.

The show starts with April’s dad being kidnapped by the Krang (/Kraang? It’s unclear) and April herself being spared this presumably gruesome fate because Donnie saved her at the last second. She then goes on to live with an aunt we never see.

We also don’t see much of how this affects April at first. Sure, she is shown to be sad and wanting to get her father back, but the episode ends on the Turtles leaving her at her aunt’s place and then we’re done for the day. Hell, the next time we see April, she just casually drops by their place to show Mikey how to make online friends.

Maybe that’s just me being overly criticial, but I could have done with more time between those moments, showing her coming to terms with things, her normal day-to-day live, or heck, even just going to the lair for the first time.

But we don’t get that because plot has to happen.

April isn’t the only character who suffers from that, but I feel like it affects her the most.

The writers seem to have learned their lesson, because when April loses her dad for the second time, to mutation this time around, she blames the Turtles (which isn’t wrong) and then doesn’t talk to them for a month while presumably going back to her aunt, who I suppose never asks any questions. She only goes back to talking to them when Casey tells her a similar story and she realizes something something, hurting someone without meaning to. Which is fine, but it’s also not really, because it implies April being rightfully upset isn’t valid, because the Turtles didn’t mean to mutate her dad and it was an accident, but it feels like it tone polices someone for experiencing a loss and not letting her take some time for herself to come to terms with that.

But y'know we need her, in part because she’s The Special, but most importantly, so one of the most tedious love subplots can happen.

I know they explained April’s specialness as her being a human/Krang mutant and the Krang needing her unique brain to mutate the entire planet because …reasons. Except for when they later attack New Yok and then don’t need her for that anymore. On that note, I do not understand Krang’s plan at all. Time passes faster in their dimension and they’re kind of at war with the Triceratons and have trouble with the Utrom, so they want to leave (even though the Triceratons are clearly also in our universe, so why not pick a different dimension to take over entirely? There’s established to be ten) and mutate a planet to take over. This is all well and good, except they’ve been at it for about seven million years? Krang takes credit for creating the first humans with mutagen and it’s been mentioned that they steered human evolution to the point where they could create a human/Krang hybrid, such as April. But why did they only have one? They lost track of her when her dad and her fled to New York City, wouldn’t it have been more convenient to have more mutants to do their vague mutant stuff they require by the plot to take over the planet?

Even if we assume that this first mutation means that the first humans didn’t surface between seven and five million years ago, humans haven’t evolved that much in the last couple thousand years. Why wait so long? It must have been billions of years for the Krang.

I know it’s a cartoon and stuff, but they could have easily removed that problem by cutting the line about Krang taking credit for human evolution and for the Krang having been with us for thousands of years. It just creates problems.

Speaking of problematic, the romantic subplots. So, Leo wants to bang his sister, Donnie is creepily obsessed with the first human girl he’s ever met and Mikey is such a good boy, he gets two love interests, because one isn’t enough for all the love and goodness contained in orange boy. I still think it’s weird because all of these love interests are humans, but I gradually got over that. I managed to think about this without physically convulsing for ten whole minutes, for starts.

Okay, so Donnie/April is just bad. The writing and the execution are bad. The characters are fine, I love Donnie, even though he focuses way too much of his time and attention on obsessing over April, but I can let that go on account of him being a teen dealing with his very first ever crush. April though  is frequently made to be a callous bitch who knows of his feelings and leads him on when she wants something, but pushes him away at all other times. I vividly remember the time New York was overrun by Krang and April helped Donnie bandage his injured arm and he was about to confess his feelings to her and she pulled too tight to get him to stop. Instead of being up front about it or just telling him that she either liked him or not or that now just wasn’t the time to focus on romance - all of which super valid in their own right. Rip the bandaid off, girl. None of them look especially good coming out of this.

It gets worse considering that after seasons of back and forth and even introducing Casey to give us a love triangle, everyone’s favorite thing in media and April redeeming herself by also being That Way to Casey and by redeeming I mean informing us that she just isn’t really fit for a relationship because she is very toxic in handling them, the whole thing is just kind of dropped forever. There’s no payoff. We spent so much time watching Donnie agonize over this, get worse, then get over his stalker-ish tendencies and get rewarded with a kiss and then nothing ever happens. They don’t even have a conversation about their feelings. The show tries to make it seem like there’s a special connection between April and Donnie because she kills him and then feels bad and brings him back, but, no. That’s not how any of that works. Ultimately this whole thing feels like a huge and infuriating waste of time. Fourth place. And that’s a kindness.

Leo and Karai get third place, mainly because of the incest. Neither of them is as toxic over this subplot and it also has the common decency of not taking up that much time, but it’s still weird. I don’t have much to say here. I guess it was dropped in the end, but maybe also not, but at least there weren’t 30 episodes about Leo agonizing over Karai while she was being weird and also she had her own thing going on and felt like a more fleshed out character than April despite getting less screen time. Third place.

Mikey gets silver because while he’s flirting with two human girls, they both seem to be exclusively into it and also he’s much more mature about dealing with it than his supposedly intelligent brother. Get this. Mikey, being mature at something. None of these ships are confirmed, but it’s a nice change of pace.

Raph takes gold because he fell in love with a girl after she beat the crap out of him and nothing is more valid than that.

Okay, the plot feels kind of rushed, in that they’re confessing undying love after kissing twice, but one, they’re teens and two, this is just the best we’re going to get out of this show.

Casey, well.

Casey exists. He doesn’t add all that much to the story. He has a delightful dynamic with Raph, coming in just after Slash confronted him with his worst traits and then reinforcing the “be a vigilante and do good”-angle and that’s nice. Outside of that though, he tries to hit on April, he hits things with his hockey sticks and I guess he has a family he cares about that we never see. Oops.

I’m very ambivalent about Splinter. I do get him and he’s a good sensei, but kind of a lousy father? Sure, his entire life went up in flames quite spectacularly, but as soon as he realizes his daughter is alive, he often seems to prioritize getting her back over the lives of the four sons he actually raised and spent the last fifteen years with? Also, he’s a dick to Mikey? He gets better later and then he dies. Hm.

Mikey wasn’t as annoying as I feared, going in. He was still stupid, but he had his moments. I also didn’t find him as funny as some of the writers probably hoped, but he was fine. He’s a good boy who deserved better every step of the way, but his brothers and Splinter are kind of not nice to him despite him being just as capable as his brothers. Neither is the show, often making him the butt of a joke or downplaying his achievements (producing super-retro mutagen, saving all his brothers from parasite wasps and the one time he saved the city from cannibal pizza it was treated like a “it was all a dream or was it” and nobody believed him). He doesn’t get a lot of development, but he’s the goodest boy.

Raph again surprised me. He arguably underwent the most development, dealing with his many demons and getting a grip on his temper. This was especially apparent in the Northampton arc when he did chores without complaint and helped Leo train.

Leo on the other hand, started as the leader of the team and ended the story as the de-facto leader of the family and also he was stronger now. I don’t know. Being a leader was his defining trait from start to finish and while he agonized over that, he wasn’t allowed much development outside of that. His first meeting with Karai introduced this subplot about him wanting to be irresponsible and do his own thing, but that was quickly dropped and never brought up again. I liked him best when he was being a dork over his favorite TV show or that time he went to space and on his first outing tried to hit on an alien lady. I would have liked to see more of that Leo, because that Leo was actually interesting.

Donnie, I don’t know. Most of his time was poured into the world’s worst romantic subplot and outside of that he had some traits, but he was mostly there so he could analyze things, develop antivenoms at the drop of a hat, finally create a retromutagen and build 152 vehicles. I like Donnie, but there isn’t much to talk about that isn’t directly tied to April. Except maybe how he promised to turn Timothy back into a human and then never did, even though we keep seeing his frozen remains in the back of the lab. For shame, Donnie. For shame.

To the show’s credit, a lot of the mutants looked horrifying and creepy. They had a tight grip on that horror vibe and it was great. They maintained a balance of comedy and horror and while it wasn’t great, it was a nice reprieve.

I hated Shredder and I know I was supposed to, but I will never get over what a petty bitch he was.

The thing that hit me the hardest was probably the destruction of Earth at the end of season 3. I was legitimately upset about that, so that’s probably a good thing. But when five minutes into the next episode Scrooge McDoctor Who did some timey whimey bullshit to reverse it, I was not any less upset. Make of that what you will. (No, I’ll explain, I felt cheated and it was cheap and annoying. Just when you think the show has some balls, it pulls a “sike” and then flips back to the status quo, usually). The space arc was simultaneously interesting and also not, with a lot of predictable plot threads, but at least we got more locations  than the same two nocturnal New York streets all the time.

The ending though was super weird. The other turtles then went into space and probably died or some shit, because they never show up again and also the Fugitoid’s head is alive in orbit, but whatever, no time for that because we have to go back, for the 50th time, to the Foot!

The plot has no time to unfold because the plot needs to happen.

Do you ever think the writers squabbled a lot? It kind of feels like a lot of them wanted to do their own thing and then someone else meddled with that and then we got a patchwork of unconnected threads, left loose and dangling.

I was surprised when we got some buildup to April’s growing dependence on her alien crystal and even one episode dealing with its powers before we got to the episode dealing with the crystal’s effects on her. That sort of nuanced pacing was new. I was also initially very sure that this subplot would only find its payoff in the season finale or half season finale, like most other plot threads usually did, but no, it got its own separate episode.

Yes, they went all Dark Phoenix, but the ending was super anticlimactic, because April killed Donnie and then someone reminded her of it and she felt bad, so she stopped being possessed by evil. They fucked up on the home stretch, but they tried.

I never liked the time travel episodes with Renet much, they felt weirdly intrusive and adding nothing new to the plot. It felt like the first one only happened so we could meet Tang Shen before she died and that didn’t add a whole lot of anything. It confirmed things we already knew and introduced Mikey’s love interest and that was that.

The show tried to do a thing about anti-mutant racism once, but it sure is a good thing that the only people racist against mutants were the mafia, so we don’t have to worry about making a nuanced take here. They could have done something really interesting, but then went for simple black-and-white-morality instead.

My favorite episode was when the boys played Dungeons and Dragons with a sparrow mutant.

The worst part of the show though was its fifth season. First it seemed like it would just continue from where the fourth season had left off with Shredder being revived - because like a good villain, or herpes, Shredder always comes back - by the worst looking dragon I have ever seen in my entire life, but then that arc surprisingly ended after four episodes, shocking me to my core. Almost as shocking as Donnie almost killing a guy, but then deciding not do at the very last second. Again, feels like they could have done more here, but then they didn’t.

The fifth season started with two arcs that seemed to tie up loose plot threads, like Shredder’s revival and the bug alien guy I could have sworn died when he was yeeted out of an airlock coming back to enact his grim revenge, all so Raph’s girlfriend could live on the same planet as him and then never appear on the show ever again. Also Mikey died and his brothers were sad for five seconds before going about their business and then he came back with superpowers and then he conveniently lost them at the end of the episode, because the plot doesn’t have time for things that are emotional or interesting. Then there was that time the writers were like “What if we made Yojimbo, but with anthropromorphic animals and also the turtles are there” and it existed and the Turtles added very few things to the story and then went back to their dimension and never talked about it ever again. Or the time they said “what if we made Mad Max and also everything was terrible” and so they did and Leo became a hulked up war criminal but everyone forgave him because he wasn’t himself but immediately snapped out of it after seeing his brothers and Raphael was on steroids and Donnie became a robot in what I assume was a reference to the comics where he died and became a robot and also Donnie ended up being the only one whose body died, but considering what became of his brothers, he was probably the best off? And Raph had amnesia just so he could say he had amnesia and it didn’t actually factor into the plot once because he immediately recognized Mikey. I don’t know, I hated that special.

But at least it gave me emotions. The best part of the “that time travel demon is back and trying to monster mash” arc was when I remembered that I could browse tumblr on my phone while it was on and then I didn’t bore myself to death and also didn’t miss anything of value.

The series finale was fine. Nothing to write home about, but perfectly fine, even though the show threw an awful lot of shade at the 1987 version.

I feel like the most jarring thing about the fifth season was that the show spent four seasons going out of its way to present itself as something with a cohesive narrative and a plot that goes on and on and then we get these disjointed stories, some of which have absolutely nothing to do with the story at all. Just the writers throwing some idea at a wall to see what sticks because they either didn’t have any ideas anymore, or too many, but the end result wasn’t great and I’ll recommend newcomers to stop after the fourth season, because for real.

Tiger Claw existed and he was infuriatingly capable and powerful and then his sister chopped off his arm and then he got a robot arm and that was it forever. I don’t know, some episodes felt more pointless than others, but some managed to be fun or interesting and some just added something they thought was fun and it ended up never mattering again. 

Some characters disappeared randomly, like the dove guy and I don’t care enough to ask what happened there.

Karai’s mutation being reversed off-screen was super bizarre. Sure, her being able to change at will as metal as heck, but it felt weird and incomplete and like I missed an episode. Maybe I did. It was also infuriating how her venom was a plot point in one episode and never brought up again after that.

Outside of that, I don’t have much insight to offer. Other people already exlained how the fight scenes, while nice, are not very accurate, especially the bo staff moves, or how the show is very dark, not in tone, but in actual absence of light and lots of greyscales or how most characters have singular traits rather than fleshed out personalities, especially the supporting cast. How there isn’t a lot of diversity in the human characters and how figure-hugging a lot of April’s and Karai’s clothing is (shoutout to April’s yellow shirt, it’s uncomfortable to look at, cheers) or how the female characters are frequently damselled.

I liked when the animation added personality to the characters because the writing sure didn’t think it had time for that.

All in all, it’s a mixed bag for me. It’s a fine show to watch if you have the time and it’s not all bad and I can see why people enjoy it, but it’s not for me. I liked some episodes enough to watch again, but I feel like in nine out of ten cases, I’ll opt to rewatch Rise instead because it has more of what I personally like, but I won’t think less of you if you enjoyed this version of the show. I’m not telling people that one version of the Turtles is superior to the other, just that I think it’s important to take off those rose-colored glasses and be critical of the things you consume every now and again.

But if you prefer plot-driven shows that can be surprisingly dark, you might enjoy this. Or you could watch Avatar, because it has that as well as three-dimensional characters and better worldbuilding.

Thank you for reading my way-too-long thoughts about an animated kid’s show.

[thejollyroger-writer]

THE WASTELAND - Prologue

IT’S HEEEEEERE! For real, you guys, I canNOT express just how excited I am to share this story with you! What started as a prompt from @wellhellotragic in APRIL 2019 has grown into this, my story for @cssns 2020! Specialist of thanks to @shireness-says​, who helps me talk out my ideas even though they make no sense to her, the ladies in the discord for sprinting with me in the hour I get to myself at the end of the day, and especially to @spartanguard ​ for her INCREDIBLE artwork! I’m so excited to see what else she comes up with as more of the story gets posted!! 

Now, onto the exciting part... 

Some triggers: this story is rated TEEN, mostly for violence. It takes place during wartime, and some of the characters go through some violence and torture. If you need more information about this, please just message me! 

SUMMARY:  In a world that has been saturated in war for as long as anyone can remember, Emma Swan has rebuilt her life as far away from the chaos as possible, opening her own maternity hospital after spending too many years in makeshift battlefield aid stations. But one night, a bloodied and battered soldier finds her hospital trying to get away from an enemy with a penchant for torture and a personal vendetta against him. With the help of Emma’s childhood friend Prince David and a motley collection of humans and magic-wielders, the quest to save Killian Jones’ life from the poison used by the enemy takes them to places even beyond the known world.

Posted on AO3

“There has always been a war,” Prince David’s father always told him. In a way, he’s right. For as long as anyone can remember, as long as written history goes back, there has been the war, though what began as a magic versus non-magic fight has shifted into a power-hungry battle between two leaders — no matter who the leaders are. 

Centuries passed, generation gave way to generation, but the war has remained. New technologies have come and gone: horses gave way to trains, only to be replaced by cars and tanks; weapons have come and gone. 

But the War has remained. A few leaders have come along to try and stop the two sides from fighting, but none were strong enough to really stop the war, turning to the temptation of corruption before too long. Even the current King of the Gale, King George, started his rule as a kind and understanding ruler, but all it took to change that was the death of his wife, the King turning to dark magic in hopes of getting her back and only finding anger and corruption. 

The only thing that has spanned the ages is the War. 

The War, and the Wasteland. The two cities have grown, smaller hubs popping up where people have congregated, but the Wasteland remains, a large expanse of land that runs across the middle of the world where nothing will grow, where no people have congregated, barren of even animal life. And this has become the center for the War, home to makeshift barracks and trenches and destruction. 

Prince David dreams of a day when the world is a better place, somewhere that he’s not terrified to raise an heir, somewhere where there is more to live for than corruption and violence. But that day hasn’t come, not yet. 

-- -- -- -- 

According to some legends, there has never been a time when the Nephilim and the humans were not at war, but he’s too much of a cynic to believe that. Some part of him has to believe that there was a time, no matter how long ago, when the world was not drowning in war and hatred and destruction — because, if that’s true, then he can still believe that it’s possible for there to be a time after the war. That’s why he decided to fight for the Prince instead of the King; King George lives for war, for fighting, but his son, Prince David, helps men like Killian be sure that there is still good in the world, even when it seems impossible to find. 

Though, recently, this good has become harder and harder for him to find, and though he chose to fight for the Prince, he certainly didn’t choose to be captured by the enemy, tortured in hopes of revealing the Prince’s location. 

The rain pours down around him, pounding against his aching skin. It's cold, just shy of too cold, and Killian thinks that, maybe, if he could think straight, see straight, focus on anything beyond the sharp thrum of pain rolling through his body, it might even feel good. 

But nothing can feel good here, when everything around him is so terrible. His world is broken, his home is broken, his soul is broken, his skin is broken. In multiple places. Scars run up and down his arms, his shoulders, his torso. Gunshots, knife wounds, weirdly-healing scars from magic-users and weres and fae blades — and maybe even a few self-inflicted from his lowest moments. 

Not to mention his hand. The wound on his arm from the enemy Nephilim soldiers, the almost-unbelievably large were-shifter and the silent but sadistic fire-wielding sprite that helped torture him, was part of the worst pain he had ever felt. There was nothing he could do about the wound on his chest, the gash so close to his heart he feared they would pierce it, but the wound to his arm was another story. He’s seen a wound like that before, knows exactly the damage it would have across his body if the poison was left to spread, so he did the only thing he could think of to save himself, both from the poison and the chains that bound him and removed the rest of the limb with his own dagger. 

He raises his eyes from the ground, needing to focus on something other than the throbbing pain blurring the edges of his vision, some sort of goal that he can dedicate what is left of his quickly depleting energy to. And that's when he sees it, so bright and clear in the darkness of the stormy night that he's sure he's imagining it. But he heads towards it anyway, the bright red cross of salvation like a beacon of hope in front of him. 

By the grace of one of the higher powers — he honestly could care less about which one — no atheists in foxholes, one of his superiors used to tell them — the door to the building  is open, though the lights are low, only enough to light up the single aisle that runs between the beds that line the walls. There are only a few bodies in the beds — humans and fae of all kinds — and they all seem to be asleep, a fact that his entry to the hospital does not seem to have any effect on. But none of this changes the fact that he has no idea where he is, and — more importantly — whether he has made it out of enemy territory, which changes around these parts quicker than the tides. Somewhere in the back of his mind, in a voice that sounds startlingly like his brother's, he wonders if there is still any such thing as safe territory anymore. He has enough common sense left to drag himself through the aisle between the rows of bed and through a set of double doors, and into what looks like an office off to his left, before finally crumbling on the floor, thankful for the warmth of his new shelter before he finally — finally, every bone in his body screams — succumbs to the pain and passes out. 

 TAGS: @kmomof4​ @thisonesatellite​  @teamhook​ @darkcolinodonorgasm​ @cocohook38​ @ultraluckycatnd​ @facesiousbutton82​ @hollyethecurious​ @stahlop​ @tiguanasummertree  @angellifedeath​ @pepperpottss​ @mariakov81​ @scientificapricot​ @teamhook​ @kday426​ @xarandomdreamx​ @ohmightydevviepuu​ @xhookswenchx​ @nikkiemms​ @carpedzem​ @superchocovian​ @resident-of-storybrooke​ -- want to be added or removed? let me know! 

[geekydane]

Talk to me - Tommy Shelby x reader - chapter 5

Masterlist

Sorry it took me so long, but i’ve been waiting for NaNoWriMo to begin here in april. And sorry for the short chapter! here’s some fluff for ya!

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There is something wet on your forehead; that was your first thought. The second thought never came because it was interrupted by the worst headache settling in right behind your eyes and in the back of your head. You wanted to move but it was like your whole body was stiff. You could feel every limp aching like you’ve been lying still for too long. You didn’t want to open up your eyes but you could sense the light on the other side of your eyelids. Natural light? But wasn’t it night? A grumble almost escaped your lips as you hoisted your tired arm up to cover your eyes until you got used to the light.

You were in a bed. You were sure about that. The surface you lay on was the exact opposite of how your body felt like. You were sure that this bed was much too soft to be your own, but you couldn’t wrap your brain around it. It was first when you felt a movement in the surface of the bed – that wasn’t you – your brain activated for good. Were you in a hospital? The last thing you remember was that Mr. Bailey grabbed you and you tried to get away. It has to be a hospital. Did Tommy take you? Who was in your bed? Was there anyone in your bed or was it your imagination? You didn’t dare to move before you were sure that you were alone. There weren’t really any sound other than a high pitch ringing that come from the back of your head.

The movement came again and you could feel it in the way that your legs shifted slightly by the pressure on the bed moving underneath you. You held your breath and tried to listen and only found a slight sound of movements of fabrics that touched each other. There was someone sitting on the bed next to you. You tried your hardest to move your hand from your eyes again without making a sound, so you could open your eyes. It was too light at first and you had to squint at first. The shape of a man’s back appeared. A man with only a button up white shirt and a pair of grey trousers held up with dark suspenders. He was leaning forward with his elbows on his knees, making it hard for you to see who it could be.

Your breath was caught in your dry throat. You couldn’t hold in the cough and your whole body contracted along with it. The man sitting next to you reacted with an instant and lifted his head to look at you. Tommy. His hair was wild. You had never seen it that way before. It was always combed back or trapped under a sixpence. His face was unreadable but he reacted out for something out of your sight. You wanted to remove yourself from his presence. He was too close for your liking. It has been a long while since you had been this close to a man in a bed. His attention was back on you as he reached a mug of water toward you.

“Thirsty?” He mumbled and it was like your whole body reacted to his voice. It was calming. The breath you apparently had been holding since your coughing fit, released as you nodded your head.

“Can I help you sit up? I have a few pillows I can place behind you.” He looked at you, waiting for answer. It was awfully kind of him to still think of how you might not like to be touched. You nodded lightly again and he immediately left the bed to fetch the pillows. There was a shift in the bed again. The first time the shift was filled with fear but now it made the bed feel empty. It was strange how the feeling of another person near could change like that? He held the cream coloured pillows up in front of you before he came closer. Instantly you stopped breathing like always, but when he reacted over you and pushed you up with a secure hand on your back, you took in a deep breath near his neck. He smelled like cigarette and whiskey. It was a pleasant warm smell. He placed the extra pillows behind you and when he carefully laid you down again, you didn’t fell too far back. You had a great view of the room now, as he sat down on the edge of the bed again. The room was big. It was a huge bedroom with the bed staying in the centre up against one of the walls. It was the biggest bed you had ever found yourself in with lot of decoration on the pillars. In one side of the room there were a dressing area and to the other were a dark red leather sofa and a table with multi-coloured liquor bottles with crystal knobs.

“How are ya feeling?” He said with that unreadable expression again. You shrugged and felt how stiff your shoulders still were. You had to start moving a bit more.

“It was some blow you took to your head. It is still a bit swollen but Polly did her best to reduce it with the cold clothes from the cold closet. I hope it is okay I brought you to my room. I didn’t want you to lie alone in your own apartment. It was easier to keep an eye on you here.” He looked like he was somewhere else by mind while he was talking. He was thinking, looking into the glass of water you were holding.

“I’m sorry that I didn’t see it coming. I didn’t think he would be a problem. We are apparently in deeper shit than I anticipated.” He rubbed his eyes with his thumb and index finger. Without thinking he placed his other hand over yours that rested on your stomach. Naturally you flinched but didn’t take the hand away. But the little movement made Tommy wake up and with a shocked expression he hurried and removed his hand from yours and stood up.

“Sorry. I didn’t think…” He went and poured himself a drink from one of the liquor bottles and sat down in the sofa. How would you be able to tell him that you didn’t mind when he touched you so gentle? It wasn’t much different than when he had put his hand in the small of your back. He sat back in the sofa as he took a sip of his drink and sends you a scrutinizing look.

“You can just go back to sleep if you want to. I’m making sure that you wake up again. We don’t know if there is further damage to your head, even though I doubt it at this point.” He said calmly. You looked towards the window and saw that the sun was low on the sky. You sat the glass on the side table and point to him and then the bed. You were in his room, in his bed. Didn’t he need the bed himself, now that it was getting late?

“Just sleep. I’ll be here. I don’t sleep much anyway. Not since the war.” He mumbled the last part, but you heard him anyway. You wanted to send him a sympathetic look, but you didn’t think that it was what he needed. He was a man with too much pride to let anyone feel sorry for him. So you closed your eyes and let yourself sink down into the soft pillows. First then you felt how much energy you had used to be alert toward the new environment and sounds. Being able to close your eyes and relax with Tommy near you was what you needed at that moment. It didn’t take you long to fall back into sleep.

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You woke as someone lightly grabbed your upper arm and shook you. You panted loudly and your aching body was sweating all over. Your eyes caught the person who had grabbed you and you looked into Tommy’s wild eyes.

“It was a nightmare.” He simply said. You looked confused. You could never really remember your dreams after you woke up, but when he mentioned it, all you could see for your eyes was the cruel face of Mr. Bailey and how the gun shot rung in your ears. Without thinking about it you grabbed Tommy’s arm as well. He was the one who protected you. He was solid. He had helped you from the start even though he wasn’t much for having you around at first.

“What was it about?” He asked as if you could answer him. You wanted to answer him but you just couldn’t. You looked him straight in the eyes as if it was answer enough, tucking him a little closer to you. What was wrong with you? This was not like you.

”Bailey is dead.” Tommy said calmly as he sat down on the bed next to you, so you didn’t have to reach so far to be able to hold onto his arm. You grabbed his arm with other hand too, now you were able to. The warmth from him was calming you, not his words.

“Will you be able to sleep again?” He asked but you weren’t able to react to it. He was about to get up and walk away but you didn’t let go of his arm. He stopped in the middle of his movement and looked at you with a question in his eyes. He sat down very slowly, like giving you time to turn him away but you didn’t. You couldn’t.

You sat there for a while. He let his other hand run up and down one of your arms slowly, like he was letting you get used to his touch. It was calming and almost made you fall back to sleep.

“I have nightmares too. I know how hard it can be to go back to sleep, but your body really needs the rest.” He made a move to get up again which made you wide awake once again and you tightened your grip on his arm. He frowned at you.

“What do you want?” He asked, sounded a little frustrated. With your eyes and with a slight tilt of your head you tried to hint to him that you wanted him to lie down. There was no way you wanted to visit your nightmares again so soon, if you had to be alone when you woke up. He stared at you intense like he was trying to figure you out. This was strange behaviour even for you and you knew it yourself. But the whole situation was like revisiting the last time you were attacked and you were afraid of being in your own head.

“Do you want me to lie down with you?” He asked carefully. You nodded instantly and saw something in his eyes change.

“I’m having a hard time figuring you out, y/n. But if it helps…” He trailed off and got up and walked slowly around the bed to the other side, like he gave you time and space to say no, if you didn’t want him to lie down anyway. But you kept your gaze to his and watched as he adjusted the pillow on that side and carefully lay down fully clothed. He reached down and took off his shoes before he settled in and looked at you again.

“Will you sleep now?” The words weren’t much more than whisper but you nodded and gave him a tight smile. You really wanted to give him a real smile but your whole face felt beaten up and sore. He folded his hands on his stomach and relaxed. You laid there for a while. It was the longest you had ever seen Tommy be still for. He was always working, always out doing business with everyone. Maybe it was good for him to take a rest too. Maybe you weren’t the only one healing. You watched as his eyelids grew heavy and he slowly closed his eyes. His whole chest was rising and falling in a calming rhythm. He was so close to you but was still not touching you. Then you did something that was the most unlike you that you had done in a while. You reached out and placed your hand on top of his. His reaction was more like you as he flinched and with a wild glare looked down at your hand and then met your gaze. You didn’t intent to scare him like that. How stupid of you to just grapping someone who had been to war, without thinking he might be alert, even in his sleep. You knew that from yourself.

Ashamed of yourself you were about to take your hand back, but tommy took a hold on it and gave you a quick smile that lasted only for a second, before he closed his eyes again. It was nice. It was like his grip on your hand was holding you to reality, made you aware that your nightmares were only nightmares. The feeling of someone next to you made everything in your head silent for a moment.

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[tyrilblue]

Live for me

Part I - Like a King

Marc Antony x MC (Alba)

Word count: 2300

Warnings: mentions of suicide, soft smut

After 17 years of civil war for power over Rome, Marc Antony and Alba are planning how to defeat Octavian once and for all. Is Antony really in love with Cleopatra as we all think, and will his alliance with the Queen of Egypt prove valuable?

A.N.: tip - be mindful of the dates so you can keep track of the flashbacks! / taglist under the cut - I tagged everyone who interacted with my WIP post (here), hope you enjoy! Let me know if you wish to be added to the list ✨

Painting of the battle of Actium by Laureys a Castro, 1672

Pridie Nonas Septembres XXXI

(September 4th, 31 b.C.)

Lena's scholae.

Rome.

Alba felt a single tear roll down her cheek as she once again read the same words she already knew by heart. The pointy, decisive handwriting was familiar, but some ink blots and stains betrayed the writer's feelings here and there, showing his haste, doubt and fear clearly to the eyes of someone who knew him so well.

«Should you not receive word from me by the Nones of September, then you shall know the worst has come to happen. I cannot bear the thought of you falling into the hands of our enemy, but it will only be a matter of time before our fate finds you. This is likely to be the last you will ever hear of me. Though I do not give up hope of holding you once again in my arms, I want you to know that in the end, I would always choose you over Rome.

You are forever the first woman in my heart.»

Her breath got stuck in her throat every time she read those lines, torn between happiness and dread. Antony had to be truly desperate to write down such words for her to read, and because of that, she also knew that the feelings they showed were real. In a few hours the sun would dawn on the Nones of September, and still, not a word from her love. Alba kept touching the small, cool vial full of aconitum she always kept hanging from her neck, while praying for the sound of a messenger's hurried footsteps on the cobblestones. She closed her eyes, her mind travelling far up high and over Rome, beginning its descent along Italia. She caught a glimpse of the Vesuvius and Pompeii, then she smelled the cedar and lemon trees of Sicilia, before beginning to cross the Mediterranean sea towards the lands of Africa. She turned slightly eastwards, heading for Egypt, and her thoughts finally alighted in the sprawling palace of queen Cleopatra, the core of Alexandria. She pictured Antony there, his skin darkened by the months spent under the harsh Egyptian sun, trying to carry out the plan they had conceived together. Alba could almost hear the velvety words he used to stroke the queen's pampered ego, convincing her of his love to keep her a close ally in his fight against Octavian. Her heart clenched in jealousy every single time she thought of his hands on her body at night, of his whisperings of passion in her ear, but she found new strength in knowing his heart was still in Rome, right where she was.

Deep down, Alba couldn't help feeling that he was still alive. She was sure the gods would let her know if she was to lose all hope, and that was why she kept delaying the fate she and Antony had designed for themselves. She smiled sadly, thinking of how he would mock her for relying on the gods, and as the black of the night sky slowly began turning pink, even that last strand of hope she was clinging to started to slip through her fingers.

Idibus Aprilibus XXXII

(April 13th, 32 b.C.)

Marc Antony's villa.

Rome.

Marc Antony could feel Alba's eyes on him, full of her usual fierceness, as he paced the room. He had yet to utter a single word, but he knew her mind was at work, somehow already knowing what he meant to say. After a seemingly endless silence, frustrated by the unusual lack of ways to voice the thoughts in his head, he finally decided to speak.

"I must sail to Egypt", he bluntly stated. "Cleopatra is my best chance at victory in the East, her alliance is the key to defeating the Parthians and making Caesar's old project a reality".

Alba remained silent, now intently looking at the world map painted in a fresco on the wall of Pompey's old bedchamber. Antony pointed at the lower right portion of the image with a wide gesture of his hand.

"With those lands and Cleopatra's men at my command, Rome will finally be within my grasp", he said calculatingly, clenching his fist as if he could physically grab the city by its reins. As silent as a tiger circling a gladiator in the Colosseum, Alba got up from the bed with a swirl of red and gold silk, softly wrapping Antony's fist between her delicate hands.

"And I will be here, in Rome, to keep you informed on Octavian's every move". He looked into her eyes, finding just a small glint of sadness in her seemingly confident look. Before he could say anything about the role she could play in his plots, she added, "You don't need to tell me, I am aware I can't come to Alexandria with you". With those words, she turned towards the fresco as if to measure the distance that would soon separate them. Antony sighed, cursing himself for letting that woman get so deep under his skin.

"Cleopatra will only give me her unwavering support if she believes I love and worship her, and her only" - Antony sighed, "She would never believe I'm giving her my heart if you were there with me. She remembers who you are, Alba of Lena's scholae".

The corners of Alba's mouth lifted in a coquettish smile, as she probably reminisced of the time she had seduced both Julius Caesar and the queen of Egypt.

Antony's body reacted instinctively at the thought, both because of jealousy and lust. He thought of his woman playing with so much power, manipulating the desires of the couple who used to rule the world, bending them to her wishes, all because he had asked her to. He smiled to himself.

"What are you smiling about?" - Alba asked, with a dangerous sound to her voice, "Are you going to forget all about me under the bedsheets of the queen of Egypt?".

At those words, Antony gave her his most winning smile, taking her hand and pulling her flush against him.

"Do you remember what you once said to me?" - he asked, searching her eyes, knowing she surely did remember. "You said you knew me well enough to be aware you'd never be the only woman in Rome to me".

"Yes, I know" - Alba replied, lowering her gaze in disappointment, "But I always hoped I would be the first woman in Rome to you". She completed the thought in a hushed tone, looking up at him through her long lashes. Antony had known her long enough to be able to tell when she was resorting to her courtesan skills, but that didn't mean they were ineffective. He knew she was trying to get him to voice his feelings, so he tilted her chin up with the pressure of a finger, capturing her mouth in a hungry, possessive kiss.

"No woman has ever held my interest so strongly and for so long, Alba" - Antony whispered over her lips, "The queen of Egypt can't hold a candle to you, even after all these years". Alba blinked a few times, as if surprised by his words, but too soon she was getting away from him, moving back a few steps with a mischievous look in her eyes.

"So" - she began, digging her teeth into her plump lower lip, "Let me go over this plan with you". Slowly, teasingly, she began undoing the buckle of her necklace, laying it down on the nearby table. Antony didn't say a word, getting an idea of what she was planning to do and approving unconditionally. He let himself drop onto a triclinium chair, eyes never leaving Alba's body.

"You will go to Egypt, bearing gifts" - she predicted, working on untying the thin, golden belt at her hips, "Maybe a couple of handsome men ready to please Cleopatra, so that afterwards you can show her what a real Roman lover is like".

As she said that, her eyes travelled down Antony's figure and she licked her lips in anticipation, making him ache with longing. She had always known that fueling his ego was the way to win his heart... And his body.

"You will flatter her, court her, seduce her until you finally get to her heart... and with it, to her armies of Egyptian soldiers" - Alba continued, her voice mellow, as she pushed her dress down her shoulders until it fell in a pool of red silk at her feet, leaving her naked in front of him. Antony inhaled sharply at the sight, getting up out of the chair to remove his toga.

"Ah, Alba, the things you can do to me" - he murmured with an amused smile, his voice coarse with desire. Alba walked towards him with swaying hips, closing the distance between them.

"She will get down on her knees for you" - she purred, kneeling in front of him, making Antony groan as he finally tossed his clothing aside, "But she will never know..."

Alba looked up at him with sparkling eyes, the sight of her soft, warm lips so close to where he wanted them enough to send Antony reeling.

"...I am the only one who can truly make you feel like a king".

And with those final, burning words, she let him slide between her lips.

Ante diem iii Nonas Maias XXXII

(May 5th, 32 b.C.)

Marc Antony's villa.

Rome.

Alba let her body fall on top of Antony's, both of them panting and smiling. He gently pulled the white silk bedsheets over her body, kissing her forehead, and that small act of kindness reminded her of what was about to happen. Antony's ships were ready to set sail towards Egypt, and she wouldn't see him for months, maybe years.

She might never see him again.

Alba's heart clenched at the thought, and she moved even closer to him to be lulled by his slowing breath.

"Every single time with you is better than the last, Alba" - he smirked, but seeing the dark look on her face, he sighed. He stroked her cheek with the backs of his fingers, then tilted her chin up to get her to look at him. He couldn't put off talking to her about their future anymore. He took a moment to measure his words, then finally spoke while looking deep into her eyes.

"When I see you again, I will either be one step from owning the world, or I will have lost everything". Alba's eyes turned bright with tears before she could control them.

"What if you never see me again?" - she asked, her voice shaking. Antony's heart sank at the thought, but he cupped her face with one hand, looking at her with resolve.

"It is time for you to choose again, Alba" - he said, fighting to keep his feelings controlled.

"You can either forget about me while I am away, shielding yourself from the consequences of my wars..." - Alba was already shaking her head at this idea, but Antony continued, "...or be on my side as I carry out my plan... Whatever that may lead to".

Alba gave him a look that felt like she could see right through his soul, and for a moment Antony feared she could feel how desperately he was praying for her to remain by his side. She moved away from him and he let her go, suppressing the instinct to pull her back to him. If she was going to decide to live her own life, he would have to get used to her not belonging to him anymore. They both remained silent, waiting, thinking. Then, after what felt like hours, she looked at him again.

"My life without you would be empty, Marc Antony" - she said earnestly, "I have no idea how it came to happen, but I could never decide to leave you without regretting it for the rest of my days". A sincere smile started tugging at Antony's lips, but Alba's expression remained somber.

"I could never live in a Rome without you" - she continued, "In a Rome where Octavian reigns with power he didn't earn".

Antony clenched his fists at the idea, once again cursing his fate that led him to always place his bets on the wrong men. Caesar first, and now Octavian, whom he had trusted to be a docile fool. Antony raised his eyes to meet Alba's, now looking as wild as the woods she was raised in.

"Antony, if you die..." - she took a deep, balancing breath before continuing, "Then I shall die too".

Antony's eyes burned for the slightest moment, and he swallowed, moved by her vow. He held out a hand to stroke her hair, running his fingers through it, and he couldn't help but marvel at her beauty, at her power.

"We shall always belong to each other, and be free" - Antony whispered, tempted to kiss her, but there was one more thing he had yet to say.

"To honour this freedom... if I am defeated, if I do not die in battle, then I will have to take my own life".

For a moment, Alba seemed to be taken aback by his words, furious. Then, slowly, her expression changed as she understood. She knew too well that Antony would never bear to live a life in prison, to be publicly humiliated by Octavian, to stand by as his enemy took the place he had strived his whole life to obtain. After a brief silence she whispered,

"Then I will too". She took his face between her hands and kissed him deeply, pouring her heart and soul into the moment. Antony wrapped her in his arms, wishing to never let her go, and suddenly he was wishing there was someone or something above, powerful enough to save him... Kind enough to give him a future with her.

TO BE CONTINUED

Part 2

As always, thank you to @ajstarfury​ for bearing with me and encouraging me to post this, but most of all for reading it even if she hates Marc Antony with her whole heart 😂💖

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