#was Not something i enjoyed (no offense but it felt like they over-simplified a lot of the story elements and i do NOT care for turning

[ff2-soda-pop]

i just watched ‘mewtwo strikes back - evolution’ and i am?? conflicted???

[joannasteez]

Hey lovely! Could I request a little something for Jax? It could be a headcanon or imagine, it’s up to you. But could it be about the reader is Angel and Ez’s little sister, and she’s in love with Jax?

𝐋𝐎𝐕𝐈𝐍𝐆 𝐘𝐎𝐔 {𝐇.𝐂}

𝐏𝐀𝐈𝐑𝐈𝐍𝐆: Jax Teller x Reyes!Reader

𝐍𝐎𝐓𝐄𝐒: The emotional direction wasn’t specified so I kind of just went with what came to me, by the way, This is my very first request!!, so hope whoever sent it in enjoys ❤️

𝐖𝐀𝐑𝐍𝐈𝐍𝐆: Angst. Fluff. I also suck at simplifying things so this is another long head canon, apologies if that sort of thing bothers you all lol.

Credits to the gif maker @tragertrap

Taglist: @my-rosegold-soul @appropriate-writers-name @est1887 @xladymacbethx @elektriknachosss @queenbeered @sesamepancakes @superhoeva @witching-hour @noz4a2 @nutterbu @withmyteeth

If you’d like to be tagged for Mayans MC fics ONLY let me know!!

☠︎

It amazed Felipe at times, scared him even, at how similar you looked to your mother Marisol. The spitting image of her; a younger, but slightly taller, reincarnation. But you were your fathers child through and through. The toothless yet warm endearing smile, the sharp intuitiveness, placid nature, and just through the black center of your eyes, enough experience to cover a few lifetimes. It’s what the Reyes men feared the most, that uncanny familial trait that forces you to bury such soul crushing pain, to turn cold to things that warrant warmth. Your father has it, your brothers as well, Ezekiel more than Angel, and so do you.

You had it now, that calm, collected demeanor, as the guys brought in a bleeding Jax Teller through the entry doors of the lodge. He was barely conscious, eyes dim, limbs heavy, and blood staining all along his color drained skin and the aged leather of his kutte. If you were anyone else you’d be alarmed, startled by the amount of blood and frantic men, but you were you, having seen too many things that resembled such a scene to let even a shudder pass through you.

“Get the kit, we need you to sew him up but he’s lost a lot of blood.”, Bishop says briskly, filled with worry, and your feet move faster than your mind can comprehend, snatching the kit laying near by and pacing to the bedroom where they have Jax. His head elevated by pillows, Both Ezekiel and Angel hot on your tail waiting for you to give them directions.

There’s a poorly wrapped cloth that lays against the wound, and just as you peel it back you pressurize the wound with a gauze. “I need gloves”, you say.

Angel’s a bit taken back, the President of the Sons original charter is on the precipice of death and you’re talking about gloves. “We don’t have time for that”.

“Just get the fucking gloves Angel”, you clip. Tone harsher than it’s meant to be, but he takes no offense and moves quick for the gloves before coming back.

You’re cleaning Jax’s skin once there on, wiping away all the blood that pours from him. A needle in your hand, eyes steady. “This is gonna hurt”.

Jax is sweating, teeth clenched at the piercing sting of the needle. “You sure you know what you’re doing?”

Did he really just ask you that? “I guess we’ll just have to find out”, you deadpan.

“Y/N”, Ezekiel warns.

The situation isn’t funny, a man’s life is on the line but still, you want to laugh at the audacity. “What?! He’s got a bullet in his abdomen and he’s worried about if I know what I’m doing”.

There’s silence now, a heaviness that settles to suffocate the whole lodge it seems. A dread of existential proportions that looms like a phantom in the waning rusted gold of the setting sun. The stillness is calming as you work, slipping the fine needle through his paling skin with a frightening ease that forces a worried look to Ezekiel’s face, Angel’s as well. Mayhem has consumed them all, men who laugh in the face of death everyday are doubling over, overwrought with fear, and here you are, unaware of the dark silhouette that threatens to form over Jax’s body, inching over the walls, creeping slowly as they tease whispers of death through the wispy blow of the wind.

Your brothers leave after while, called out by Bishop and Chibs who are talking over possible scenarios for revenge.

“Can you stay after this......... please?” It’s barely a whisper, and it’s drawled, but you hear the need in his voice.

It compels you to say “Okay”.

When you’re finished you wipe at Jax’s skin again, fingers trembling just the slightest as your mind catches up with your body, or is it the other way around? You’re not sure, but the two have surely had a crashing reunion and now you’re exhausted at such a fast build and fall of adrenaline. You’re thinking now, at the side of the bed, of deeply buried memories because the blood reminds you, it always does. All you see is Marisol, and your vision is blurred, eyes glistening with warm tears that comfort your skin, thumb shaking as you push the wetness away. She’s so lovely in your mind, a bright silhouette framing her and she’s so beautiful, so light and gentle. The aura of her, just from a thought, it makes her presence palpable again, till you remember she isn’t really there. Because it’s just a memory. A timeless mirage of sorts that ungrounds you from reality.

You breath, looking to the clock to find that it’s been three hours already. Three hours of you looking through your memories for your mother, Marisol. It’s purposeful, must be, why the need to think of her is so strong in this moment of all moments.

It’s infuriating, that you weren’t there, you couldn’t save her, but you were here now and you saved Jax. That counts for something right? It had to.

He’s awake again, and you’re not sure how but he is. Must be the force of his will that has his eyes opening, fighting against a sleep that feels too much like forever. “You alright?”

His eyes are a near lifeless blue but still they’ve got shine to them. “I should be asking you that, you’re the one that got shot”.

“Why the tears darlin’ ?”

You’re not up for a personal deep dive, never have been really. “Don’t know what you’re talking about”.

He smiled, noticing your reserved demeanor. “They we’re probably tears for me, I saw how worried you were earlier”, he jokes sarcastically.

You roll your eyes. “Why’d you want me to stay?”

“Didn’t want to die alone, if I did”.

You shake your head, fully convinced of otherwise. “You weren’t gonna die”.

He gives a weak smile. “I know that now since we’re talking, unless this is a dream, or some purgatory shit then I’m screwed”.

You chuckle at his dazed rambling and it makes his weak smile a little stronger as it spreads. Amusement looks good on you. Pretty. “There it is”, he says. Talking about your little smile.

There’s a stretch of silence, and it’s contemplative for Jax. Flashes of the incident from moments prior running through his mind. He’d just met Galindo for the first time, shook his hand, exchanging pleasantries. They’d talked business and at the end all parties seemed happy with the results, but it made him wary. How well everything was going, something somewhere was bound to go wrong, and yeah maybe he was a bit too pessimistic in the moment but it proved him right. The Sons and The Mayans were riding back to the lodge when the Lobos attacked and he can’t remember much after that, just feeling more than alive and then a little ways from death. His father calling him and then his mother, and he almost answered. He’s glad he didn’t.

“I’m sure you know as much as I do, you see a lot of shit when you live this life. Seen more guys than I can count take a bullet, and more times than none I’ve been the one to give it to them”. He’s quiet, contemplative. On the rise of something that resembles an epiphany. “After a while they just become faceless y’know, nameless, just kill #52 on someone’s list. That’s what it felt like, I was about to be on somebody’s fucking list and that shit is scary”. He turns to you then. “And then the next thing I know I’m in here, with your pretty ass standing over me saving my life. I thought I was in heaven”.

You roll your eyes, it’s delirium from the blood loss, making him say things he doesn’t mean. “Even with a bullet wound, flattery gets you no where Teller”.

“Tell me what does”.

———————————————————

𝐎𝐍𝐄 𝐘𝐄𝐀𝐑 & 𝐀 𝐌𝐎𝐍𝐓𝐇 𝐋𝐀𝐓𝐄𝐑

He’s warm under your skin, heartbeat a sweet song that pulses a quiet steady rhythm into your ears. It’s a comforting thing, soothing and mellow like the fiery cool blend of a setting summer sun.

You feel his hand, cool rings caressing the nape of your neck. “You awake baby?”

You move against him, to let him know that you are and a hand pulls gentle at your chin. “Let me see you darlin’ ”

Your body pulls up atop of his, bare chest moving along his and toward him so that you’re face to face, legs tangled together. His hands reach to caress your face, touch a gentle flame that burns to light your skin. It’s the first time you’ve seen him in the morning for weeks, the club stealing him away every moment it could, screwing around with the days you’d set aside to see each other. He grins, loving the dim set of your sleepy eyes. “Hi”.

“Hi”, you say. Tone rasped, sleepy.

There’s a glimmer in his stare, a dazzling sparkle that lives just over the grayish blue of his irises. You don’t identify it, what the warm glint means, for fear of being wrong, but somewhere inside, you know it’s love. It looks to pure to be anything else. He’s grinning again, all nostalgic like. “I was thinking just now, about that day when you patched me up. Best day of my life”.

You scoff. “You almost died”.

“But I got to meet you”.

You’re shaking your head at how lovey dovey he’s being. “Always with the flattery”.

“I’m serious, I fuckin’ love you. More than I ever thought I could”. He rolls you both over easy, his lean build on top surrounding you, fingers still caressing idly against your face and yours drawing along his tattooed back. He kisses you, patient and deep, as if to savor this moment. Staining his memory with the soft pliant flesh of your lips, the airy moan that resonates from your chest, and the lulling skim your nails give the gold of his hair. Forget the Irish and their guns, the Cartel and their H and everything that isn’t this. If he could, he’d stay with you here. Just like this. Forever.

He’s at your neck now, teasing you with tongue wet kisses and stingless nips, but something comes to mind. A wary thought that’s bugged you for a while. “When are we gonna tell my father about us. I want you to meet him”.

He looks to you, confused. “You don’t wanna tell your brothers first?”

“Ezekiel already knows. Found out the first time we met back up to see each other”. You’d thought you’d been sneaky enough that night, leaving after everyone fell asleep, but Ezekiel was always a couple steps ahead it seemed, following you out of Santo Padre a few hours to a bar where you’d met up with Jax. The conversation with him was easier than you expected, but still he was wary, and how couldn’t he be. You were his baby sister. He’d worry till his last breath. “... and I told Angel a couple of weeks ago. Couldn’t really get out of explaining how I had your rings laying around”. You couldn’t remember much of what that admission to him entailed, besides the look of disbelief he had, and then the screaming, and then eventually the forced calm of his expression when he realized that there was nothing he could do about it. It was still unbelievable to him, you weren’t that little girl anymore, no matter how much he wanted you to be.

You were grown, beyond capable of making your own decisions. But boy did it scare you having to tell Felipe.

“Whenever you want to tell him I’m ready”.

His sureness makes you smile, wide and bright, laying a kiss to his rosy lips. “I love you too Jackson”.

[nicknellie]

@millie-andrews-rose requested: Alex gets put with a bully on a paired project, so Willie goes with him when they work on it to help him stay calm. Willie and the boy bond over skateboarding and Alex gets jealous, causing an argument between them. The boy then apologises to Alex for being so awful. Alex and Willie make up and it ends with their first “I love you”s. (This was edited/simplified just to make it shorter.)

This is the longest oneshot I’ve ever written and I absolutely love it. I really hope I’ve done you proud, especially since this was such a great prompt! Thanks!

And It’s Not My Fault

Alex adored projects. He loved having something big to focus on, a goal to work towards, something to keep him preoccupied. Any big time-consuming task was a lot of fun for him whether it was a five-thousand-piece jigsaw puzzle or work for school worth a large part of his grade. There was, however, a single word that could be placed before the ‘project’ that would instantly transform it from Alex’s dream to his worst nightmare.

The word wasn’t ‘group’ as it would be for a lot of people. Alex liked group projects almost as much as he liked solo projects. Group projects were what he did with Julie, Luke, and Reggie almost every day, jamming in the studio and working towards having a complete set list in time for an upcoming gig. Group projects were what he occasionally did with Carrie and the girls of Dirty Candi when he would assist them with some choreography. Group projects were even tolerable with people Alex didn’t know well because he knew how they were supposed to work and usually he could convince everyone to do their fair share. So group projects were fine.

The word the ruined any chance of Alex having fun was ‘paired’.

Paired projects were the worst type of project. They always spelled trouble and Alex had never got a decent grade on one in his whole school career. It never felt like his fault, but when he thought about it he was the common denominator in every nightmare paired project scenario, so he had long ago decided that there must be something about paired projects that he was simply doing wrong.

Maybe it was that he wasn’t good one-on-one. Alex had always functioned better in groups (albeit small ones that couldn’t be overwhelming) and being face to face with just one person could be stressful. It was fine if it was a friend, and more than fine if it was his boyfriend, but when alone with a stranger Alex found himself running out of things to say and having nowhere to turn when the awkward silences set in. Or if he didn’t run out of things to say he would eventually say the wrong thing and that would start an entirely new alarm bell ringing in his mind as he panicked about accidentally being offensive. Overall, conversations without his emotional support band could be frustrating at best and somewhat dangerous at worst.

Perhaps it was true that Alex was the link in all these situations, but what he had always failed to consider was the fact that he had never been paired in a project with somebody who was actually willing to try and do well, which perhaps was a more prominent reason he’d never received a decent grade.

Alex had been having a good day. He was feeling bright for no reason in particular – needlessly optimistic days like this were his favourite, even though they usually were followed by needlessly pessimistic days as all those bad feelings caught up with him at once. Still, by now Alex had learnt to clutch that senseless joy while it was there and relish it before it was gone.

The joy was gone by noon.

“Alright, class,” Ms Osbourne said, clapping her hands to gain the class’s attention.

Alex hated his English classes. While he was good at English and rather enjoyed the subject itself, his class was rowdy and unruly and made it difficult to concentrate, while Ms Osbourne was a teacher so strict that if someone so much as thought about breaking a rule she would be able to sniff it out like a dog – but her bark was worse than her bite, and while she would shout an unnatural amount she rarely doled out punishments. The combination made for a lesson that was purely people shouting and no work being done.

The class quieted to a steady hum of chatter which was usually as silent as Ms Osbourne could get it. She smiled, though it didn’t reach her eyes, and continued. “Seeing as the end of the semester is coming up, I’m going to be setting you a project that will be worth forty percent of your grade. Essentially, it’s your final exam on our study of Macbeth.”

Alex perked up a little. He had been assigned projects for a lot of classes, but English projects were always the most enjoyable – they involved a lot of writing, which most people hated, but Alex found therapeutic; the only downside was that the source material was usually dreadfully dull. Still, Alex suddenly found himself looking forward to it.

And then she had to go and ruin it.

“I will tell you your assigned partners at the end of the lesson.”

Alex felt himself deflate and heaved a sigh. It had been too good to be true. Now he was going to be stuck on some boring project with a random student from his awful English class because he had no friends in this lesson and it was going to be horrible. It was all he could do to not let his head fall onto the table and scream in furious defeat.

It was on his mind all lesson. Who he was going to be with, what specific things the project would be on, how he could get out of it. His mind was buzzing with questions, building up energy that released itself by making his leg bounce up and down. Several times he found himself tapping out a rhythm on the table like it was his drumkit, his bouncing leg acting as if it was pounding the bass drum, and he had to force himself to stop and actually pay attention to the lesson.

The end came painfully slowly. The school bell rang and most of the students were up out of their seats immediately, ready to leave.

“Hang on,” Ms Osbourne yelled. “Everyone sit back down! I need to tell you your partners for the upcoming project.”

Alex listened attentively as she reeled off a list of names. Most people let out an annoyed groan when they found out they weren’t with a friend, and there was the occasional excited, “Yay!”

Alex knew he wouldn’t be one of the ones celebrating.

“Alex Mercer,” Ms Osbourne said eventually, pushing her glasses further up her tiny nose. “Your partner is Harry Reynolds.”

“Oh god,” Alex murmured. He felt his stomach squirm just as somebody kicked the back of his chair so hard that he jolted forward and nearly whacked his face on the table. The person laughed a moment later, obnoxiously loud, begging for retaliation – Alex didn’t dare turn around to look at them.

He knew already that it was Harry Reynolds sat behind him who had kicked his chair. His project partner, and possibly the worst person in the class that it could have been. For reasons unknown to Alex, Harry had always had it out for him. In middle school he had pushed Alex down a flight of stairs and he had landed unceremoniously in a trash can – Harry had started calling him Bin Boy and the nickname had stuck for a year afterwards; Harry was the only one who used it anymore though. Since then, Harry had just been a general jerk towards him, and upon hearing that they were going to be partners, Alex’s whole body told him to run.

Run where? Alex thought. This wasn’t a problem he could run from. Besides, Harry could probably run faster.

“Looks like it’s you and me, Bin Boy,” came Harry’s voice from behind. “I’m sure we’ll have loads of fun.”

Ms Osbourne finally finished listing pairs and then announced, “These partners are non-negotiable. I will not indulge any requests to switch for any reason. Life isn’t fair, sometimes we have to work with people we don’t like. Get used to it. Now go on, you’re already late for your next class.”

Alex wasn’t usually one to ignore instructions, but as the rest of the class filed out into the hallway he remained behind. He didn’t know what he was planning to say to Ms Osbourne, but he desperately needed to find a way out of the project, or at least switch partners.

“Go on, Alex,” Ms Osbourne said, “you’re going to be late.”

He swallowed thickly and said, “Miss, I was just wondering about the proj–”

“You’re not swapping partners,” she returned sternly. “I’ve already said this. I won’t make any allowances.”

“But, Miss, I can’t work with him,” Alex protested. She raised her eyebrows and started walking around the room, putting sheets on each table for her next class. Alex followed her as she went. “He hates me! It’s going to be awful.”

“Well, maybe the two of you can use this as a way to bond and get to know each other better, hm?”

“Miss, please,” Alex said, his desperation finally rearing its ugly head in his voice. He could feel his legs shaking and his hands wringing themselves together and his head tingling in a way he couldn’t describe, and finally he broke. “He has it out for me and I don’t even know why! He’s been awful to me ever since we were kids, he tries to pick fights with me, he calls me names. Last year he chased me around the field with a baseball bat for a whole PE lesson! If I have to work with him I’ll just end up panicking – or dead, that’s also a possibility – and the project will go terribly and I’ll fail the class. Please can I just work by myself?”

Ms Osbourne’s expression softened as she look at Alex over her glasses. For a moment, Alex’s hopes were raised just that tiny bit – maybe he had got through to her, maybe she would see sense.

But then her face turned to stone again.

“No,” she spat. “What you can do is figure out with Harry when the two of you are going to work on this project and how you’re going to go about it. And you can get to your next class.” She turned away with a cold air of finality. Alex could have sworn he actually felt chills.

Without a word, Alex heaved his bag onto his shoulder and made his way out of the classroom, crushed and dejected. He stared down at his feet as he walked and tried not to think about what the next few weeks could have in store for him.

Lunch couldn’t have come sooner. After what felt like an eternity, Alex finally made his way down to the cafeteria to meet up with his friends. If there was any one thing that was guaranteed to cheer Alex up when he was in a bad mood, it was the good company of his band and his boyfriend.

The rest of the group was already sat at their usual table when Alex arrived in the cafeteria; just seeing them laughing and joking together put the tiniest hint of a smile of his face. He headed over to them, but was stopped in his tracks by somebody stood in front of him – it was Harry Reynolds.

The boy had his arms crossed over his massive chest and was leering down at Alex with an expression of disgust. Alex tried to look past him at his friends, to get their attention, to ask for help, but they hadn’t seen him. Instead, he forced himself to look up into Harry’s brutish face and try not to squirm.

“Partners, huh?” Harry grunted. “I’m failing English so you’ll need to get us a good grade.”

“That’s the plan,” Alex said, willing his voice not to shake. It wasn’t that he was too frightened or intimidated by Harry, it was just the fact that he really didn’t feel like getting chucked in a bin today. One wrong move and he could consider that a real possibility.

“Be at my place on Saturday at one. Bring all your notes – I don’t have any.”

“I can’t do Saturday,” Alex told him, shoving his hands in his pockets. “I have band practise.”

Harry took a step closer. Alex couldn’t move back – his feet were rooted to the spot. “You think I care about your dopey little band practise? You’ll be there. That’s that.”

Alex swallowed, nodded hurriedly, and finally forced himself to take a step back so that he wasn’t chest to chest with Harry. “I’ll be there,” he echoed, still nodding.

Harry snarled, condescendingly patted Alex on the head, and walked off. Alex took a moment to collect himself, to breathe, to remind himself that he was okay and he wasn’t hurt, that Harry hadn’t done anything. He steadied himself and kept walking towards his friends, trying to mask the worry on his face.

Of course, he failed miserably.

The moment Alex sat down in his usual space between Willie and Luke, Willie took his hand, watching him with concern. “Hey,” Willie said gently, “what’s up?”

Julie, Luke, and Reggie immediately stopped their conversation, turning to face Alex and Willie. Alex hated the way they were looking at him, like he’d break if they dropped him, but it wasn’t like he could ask them to stop caring – instead, he looked at each of them, trying and failing to give them a reassuring smile before he spoke.

“Nothing,” Alex said, “nothing, it’s just… just this project for English.”

Luke sighed dramatically. “Has your class got that stupid Shakespeare assignment too? I get it, bro, it’s totally pointless–”

“No,” Alex interrupted quietly. “No, that’s not it. Well, kind of. Yeah, we’ve got the Shakespeare assignment but that’s not… not the problem.”

“What is it?” Willie prompted gently when Alex didn’t continue.

Alex shrugged. “It’s stupid.”

Julie leaned over the table and grasped Alex’s other hand. “Alex, your feelings are not stupid.”

She smiled warmly. Funny things happened when Julie smiled – when she did it to Luke, it wasn’t uncommon for him to literally trip over himself; when she did it to Reggie, it made him smile in return for hours on end; and when she did it to Alex, it gave him such overwhelming confidence that for a moment or two he could truly do anything.

“It’s just that we were assigned partners and I got stuck with Harry Reynolds,” he admitted, clutching Willie and Julie’s hands tighter. “It’s nothing and I shouldn’t be worried but–”

“It’s not nothing,” Willie said. Alex couldn’t quite read his expression – it looked to be something between sympathy and outrage. “That guy is the worst. Did you talk to your teacher about it?”

Alex nodded gravely. “She wouldn’t let me switch.”

“How much did you tell her?” Willie asked.

“What I thought would have been enough,” he replied, shrugging like it was nothing. “But it wasn’t.”

“She should be fired for that,” Reggie interjected. Everyone turned to look at him. “I’m just saying – if by ‘enough’ you mean that you told her what a jerk he’s been to you then she should follow that up and treat it like an issue instead of making you work with him.”

What would have been wise words were ruined slightly by the fact that Reggie spoke them around a mouthful of pizza.

“Reggie’s right,” Julie said, “she’s definitely in the wrong here.”

“I know that,” Alex told them, because he did, that much was obvious. “But it’s a little late for that now. I’m stuck with him.”

Willie clutched his hand tighter, threaded their fingers together. Alex leaned to the side, rested his head on Willie’s shoulder. Julie let go of his hand and Willie immediately picked it up – he smiled a little at both of them.

“I know saying it’s all going to be okay won’t help,” Willie whispered to him, “but you’ve got to try and believe that it will. And if it isn’t, I am just one call away. If you need anything – I mean anything – you call me and I will be there. Okay?”

Alex’s tense muscles relaxed the tiniest bit. “Okay,” he muttered back. “That’s okay.”

Willie kissed the top of his head and a fraction of Alex’s anxiety lifted. Willie would be there when he needed him no matter what. That was something he could always count on.

*

Luke hadn’t been happy when Alex had called him early on Saturday morning to tell him he wouldn’t be coming to band practise that day. He had given Alex a half-hour-long earful about how they had a gig coming up in a few days’ time and they needed to be rehearsing like crazy. It hadn’t been pleasant for Alex in the slightest, but at least it had been a welcome distraction from the other thing on his mind, the reason he had had to cancel band practise in the first place.

It was the day he was supposed to go to Harry’s house to work on their project. Alex had hardly slept the night before – he had lay awake in bed for hours, tossing and turning, trying to empty his mind and relax, but sleep just wouldn’t come. At half past two he had crept downstairs and made a batch of brownies using a recipe of his grandmother’s. At the time he’d thought that maybe he could use them to placate Harry once he got to his house, but he’d accidentally ended up stress-eating the entire batch instead.

He felt sick, but couldn’t tell if it was the brownies or the anxiety. Probably an unhealthy mix of both, he decided.

But he had passed the first hurdle and he told himself to be proud of that – he had arrived outside Harry’s house. It was a small bungalow on a road that led nowhere and Alex was struck by how normal it looked. It didn’t look like the sort of place somebody like Harry Reynolds should have lived; Harry was larger than life, tall and brooding, moody and mean – this house looked as if its occupants sold flowers and rescued kittens in their spare time.

Despite the outward appearances of the house, Alex was almost certain that he was in the right place. The front window seemed to show Harry’s bedroom because through it Alex could see innumerable trophies, all for different sporting events; a large stack of magazines (Alex was sure he could already guess what each contained); and a small enclosure that looked to Alex unbearably similar to a tank that might house a snake or a spider or any other creature that Alex would have preferred stayed thousands of miles away from him where it belonged.

He could not make himself walk into the house.

He had been trying for almost fifteen minutes and had walked past the house almost thirty times. He had counted his steps and was somewhere near eight thousand. His mind was racing, shooting through a hundred anxieties before Alex had the chance to dwell on any of them – maybe that was for the best. But it didn’t help the fact that he could not force his legs to walk in the direction of the door.

The worries stopping him weren’t even big ones like ‘What if he tries to hurt me?’ which Alex stressed over every time he interacted with Harry. It was the little things and the impossible things pricking the back of his mind like needles: What if he doesn’t answer the door? What if nobody’s home? What if I’m at the wrong house? What if he’s changed his mind? What if I got the wrong day? What if I got the wrong time? What if he’s not actually my project partner? What if… What if… What if…

What if I call Willie?

Alex blessed his brain for having its first sensible thought that day. He fished his phone out his pocket and called Willie, who picked up after one ring.

“Hey,” Willie said, “what’s up, hotdog?”

“I, um… I’m at Harry’s house. I can’t go inside.”

“Why not?” Willie asked. “Is the door locked? Are they out?”

Alex shook his head although Willie couldn’t see him. “No. I don’t think so. It’s just… I… I can’t do it.”

“What do you mean you can’t do it?” Willie asked patiently.

“I can’t go inside,” Alex repeated. With his free hand, he tugged at the strap of his fanny pack, fiddling with the buckle where it lay over his chest. “I can’t go up to the door. I’ve been trying for, like, twenty minutes and every time I try my head starts buzzing and my legs go numb and I’m starting to feel really sick now because I ate an entire batch of brownies meant for at least ten people and I can’t do this–”

“Okay,” Willie interrupted. “It’s okay. You’re okay. Breathe, Alex. Remember the breathing exercises we went over? Breathe in for four and out for six. Come on, hotdog, you’ve got this.”

Alex did as he said, taking great shuddering breaths of bitter air and releasing them slowly. Willie kept talking him through it, slowly, softly, kindly, and after about ten minutes Alex felt refreshed. Not necessarily worry-free, but his mind had cleared a little bit.

“Okay,” Willie said. “That was great, well done. Can you give me this guy’s address?”

Alex gave it to him.

“Luckily for you, that’s just down the road from where I am right now,” Willie said, chipper. Alex could hear the smile in his voice and it almost made him smile himself. Almost. “I’ll be there in a minute. I’ll go inside with you, if that’s what you want?”

Alex breathed a haggard, relieved sigh. “Yes. Please. If you don’t mind. Thank you, Willie.”

Willie gave a small chuckle. “Any time, hotdog. You know I’d do anything for you. I’ll see you in a minute.”

And he hung up.

Alex waited, still doing his breathing exercises, but didn’t need to wait long. Hardly five minutes later, Willie rolled up (literally – he was on his skateboard) and gave him a bright smile. Alex didn’t hesitate before lurching forward and pulling him into a hug.

“Thank you, Willie,” he whispered. “I really appreciate it.”

Willie’s response was simply to hug him tighter.

Together, hands clasped tightly between them, Willie with his board tucked under his arm, they made their way up to the bungalow’s front door. Alex swallowed, steeled himself, and then firmly knocked on the door. When nobody answered it in the first five seconds, Alex told Willie, “This is a bad idea,” and tried to turn away to leave.

However, Willie just pulled him back and a moment later the door opened. On the threshold of the house was Harry, staring down at Alex and Willie. Something about him wasn’t quite as nightmarish as it was at school, yet at the same time Alex was much more afraid. He held Willie’s hand tighter.

Harry nodded in Willie’s direction. “Who’s this, Bin Boy? You brought your boyfriend?”

“Actually, yeah,” Willie said, speaking for Alex. He was glad – his throat felt thick and he didn’t think he could have summoned up any words if he tried. “I’m Willie. I’ve heard about you.”

Harry raised an eyebrow. “Yeah? What?”

“Just a few things,” Willie said nonchalantly. “Nothing important. Anyway, I was in the neighbourhood and Alex and I are set to hang out when he’s done here anyway so I thought I’d come along. Is that alright with you?”

“It’s fine,” Harry returned with a shrug. Then his eyes landed on something and his entire expression changed. Alex didn’t think he’d ever seen Harry look like this before. Could it have been what he thought it was: excitement? “Bro! You skate?”

Willie lifted his board half-heartedly. “This isn’t just for decoration.”

Harry grinned, clapping Willie on the shoulder so hard that his hand dropped from Alex’s. “Dude, that’s sick, I do too. Come on, get inside, man.”

Harry headed back into the house and Willie followed him. Alex took a moment to wonder what the hell that had been, then took a deep breath and hurried after them. When he caught up with Willie he grabbed his hand again. Willie just smiled bemusedly up at him.

Harry led them to his bedroom and beckoned them towards his desk.

“Come look at this,” Harry said. “I had a photo taken with Tony Hawk last year!”

Alex perched himself right on the edge of the bed awkwardly as Willie went over to inspect the framed photo.

“Are you sure that’s Tony Hawk?” Willie asked. “Doesn’t look like him.”

Harry shook his head. “You’ve got to imagine he’s holding a skateboard, then you’ll see it.”

Alex watched Willie squint at the photo for a moment or two longer, then he gasped and, to Alex’s horror, began to smile. “Oh, wait… yeah, kinda. That’s awesome, dude!”

“Yeah! Anyway, how long have you been skating for?”

As Willie answered, Alex zoned out of the conversation. Ordinarily, he loved listening to Willie talk about skating – he lit up whenever he explained a new trick he’d learnt, and seeing him flush with pride after he demonstrated it perfectly to Alex always made him feel giddy – but it just wasn’t the same listening to him chat with Harry Reynolds of all people. Alex didn’t even know who that Tony Hawk guy was and it didn’t seem like anyone was about to bother explaining it to him. He would never have admitted it, but listening to Willie talk to Harry was almost annoying.

He busied himself by looking around the room, getting a glimpse at what the real Harry Reynolds was like. At school, Harry was the classic, early-2000s movie jock, on every sports team the school had to offer, constantly bragging about his luck with girls, and picking on people smaller than him (which, because Harry was built like a tree trunk, was pretty much everyone). His room reflected it too; there were even more trophies than Alex had seen through the window, most for football or, unexpectedly, karate, and the walls were plastered in posters displaying buff men and weirdly specific motivational quotes. Only now did Alex notice the skateboards stuck on the wall and the stack of helmets by his bed, as well as several skating posters directly above them.

He turned back to Willie and Harry just in time to hear Willie laugh. Properly laugh, loud and genuine. Willie only laughed like that with his friends and it hearing it in Harry’s room stirred an uneasy feeling in the pit of Alex’s stomach.

“What’s so funny?” he asked, trying to smile.

Willie waved him off. “Don’t worry, hotdog, just a skating joke.”

Harry snickered, shaking his head. “Pretty freaking funny though.”

“Oh,” Alex said. He tried for a laugh but it was the least genuine noise he had ever made – judging by the look Harry sent him, it had been obvious how fake it was to him too. Alex cleared his throat awkwardly. “Shouldn’t we get on with our work? We’re already running behind schedule.”

Harry rolled his eyes. “Shut it, Bin Boy, we’re having a conversation here. You start if you want, I’ll join you whenever.”

Alex sent a look to Willie, eyes wide and pleading. Willie frowned, looking conflicted, but then shrugged.

Willie and Alex didn’t fight often, but Alex wouldn’t have minded giving Willie a piece of his mind right then and there.

He didn’t though. He sighed, shuffled back on the bed so that he could have more room and lean on the mattress, and he started working on the project. It wasn’t too difficult, just an analysis on the themes of Macbeth, something they had gone over in class a hundred times; still, Alex would have appreciated some help, seeing as this was a paired project and he didn’t exactly want to do the whole thing alone.

But it was fine. He kept telling himself that it was completely and utterly fine. But every so often Willie or Harry would laugh or suddenly shout, and the abrupt noise would startle Alex. The third time that happened he accidentally jogged his highlighter so it zigzagged all over his painstakingly neat paragraph on King James I. He gripped his pen so hard that the plastic almost cracked, and set about writing the whole thing again on a new piece of paper.

Alex didn’t know how long he had been working for, but he did know that it had been a hell of a long time and Harry still hadn’t made any effort to help him. He had copied up all his notes on the supernatural, women, ambition, and the Great Chain of Being, all the while Harry had sat there with Willie, not doing anything.

The strange thing was, Alex found himself more angry at Willie than he was at Harry.

Eventually, he checked the time, his hand aching. It was almost five o’clock, which meant he had been working alone for about four hours solidly. He had done pretty much half of the project in that time and was nearing his breaking point – he thought that if he left now he could catch the tail end of band practise and take his frustration out on his drumkit.

Gathering his notes and all his work, Alex said, “I’m going to head out.”

Willie checked the clock on Harry’s desk and then set about clipping his helmet on. “Yeah, we should get going. This was fun, though, man. It was nice to talk to a fellow skater for once.”

“I hear you, dude,” Harry returned. They fist-bumped and Alex physically cringed. “Catch you later.”

Alex didn’t say goodbye, just saw himself out. He didn’t wait for Willie. He simply walked, trying to get out of the house and as far away as possible in as little time as he could. Alex could hear Willie shouting for him to wait up but he didn’t stop.

He felt Willie grab his hand and pull him to a halt, but pulled his hand from Willie’s grasp.

“What’s up with you?” Willie asked, seeming truly bewildered. “I thought that was alright back there, it was relaxed, not stressful. Are you still feeling anxious?”

Alex didn’t answer his question and instead he said with much more venom than he had intended, “What the hell was that?”

Willie looked taken aback. Alex almost felt bad. Almost.

“What was what?”

“In there!” Alex yelled, pointing in the direction of Harry’s house. “You talking to him like you’re best friends! That guy is a jerk, you know that, Willie, so why were you laughing and joking with him as if he’s the nicest guy in the world?”

Willie didn’t look impressed. “Sorry, I was under the impression you wanted me there. I was talking to him to distract from you. That’s what you wanted, right? You were nervous about going so you wanted my help to take the pressure off you. I was helping you, Alex, because that was what you asked me to do!”

“Not like that,” Alex protested. “You weren’t supposed to bond with him, leave me out completely so that I had to do all the work by myself and listen to you two talk about skateboards and… Toby Eagle, or whoever that guy was!”

“It was Tony Hawk. And it’s not my fault that Harry likes skateboarding,” Willie shot back. “It’s also not my fault that I enjoyed talking to someone who shares that interest for once. You listen and you pretend to know what I’m talking about, but it isn’t the same.”

“It didn’t have to be him!”

“Actually, given the circumstances, it did. And like I said – it got the attention off you, so I don’t see why you’re complaining.”

Alex felt his temper rising with each sentence. He never got this upset at Willie, this was a complete first. Sure, they had argued like any couple would, but he had never felt any real anger towards his boyfriend. It frightened him, and that fright stopped him from seeing any sense, taking a step back, calming himself down.

“I didn’t want you to do it like that,” he said, as if it was obvious. It was obvious to Alex – why wasn’t it obvious to Willie?

“I can’t read your mind, Alex,” Willie shouted, pointing at himself. “I don’t know what’s going on in your head!”

“You should know!”

“I don’t! It could be anything! I don’t think you realise that when it comes to you and your anxiety, I’m pretty much flying as blind as you are. Sure, I’ve done my research and I can handle it, but I never know what’s going to trigger you and set you off like earlier today. I may seem prepared, but I don’t know what you’re thinking and I don’t know what you’re going to worry about most. It is not my fault that sometimes I might not handle it in the best way. I’m trying my hardest, Alex.”

“You aren’t the one who has to go through the panic attacks and the constant worry, are you?” Alex seethed.

Willie shrugged. “No, I’m not. But I still worry about you all the time because I don’t know what’s going to set you off.”

“It’s not my fault I have anxiety,” Alex yelled.

“I never said it was! But it’s not my fault either – I dropped everything just to come and help you today and all you’re doing is throwing it right back in my face and arguing with me for helping you out! It’s not my fault that you can’t do these easy things and that you need me to hold your hand all the time!”

Alex froze. Willie did too. The words were out there, they’d been spoken without hesitation. They hung between the two of them like a toxic cloud, as both of them slowly realised the weight those words had held.

Willie broke the silence, reaching out his hand to Alex, trying to bridge that gap between them that had widened impossibly in the last ten seconds. “Alex, I am so sorry, I didn’t mean t–”

Alex stepped back, out of reach from Willie. Willie flinched and he withdrew his hand, instead crossing his arms and rubbing circles by his elbow with his thumb. It was a nervous tick Alex only ever saw when Willie was really stressed out. Normally he would have tried to soothe him, calm him down, but all he could hear were Willie’s words echoing back and forth through his mind.

It’s not my fault that you can’t do these easy things and that you need me to hold your hand all the time!

Alex schooled his features to careful neutrality, not betraying any emotion. It wasn’t hard, seeing as he wasn’t feeling much at that moment anyway, just a cold detachment.

“I heard you,” Alex said quietly. He couldn’t look Willie in the eye. “I heard exactly what you said. I know what you meant.”

“Then you’ve got to know that I wasn’t trying to–”

“I know what you meant,” he repeated. “I’m going back to band practise. I don’t think you should come and watch today.”

He shook his head and, turning on his heel, walked away. He didn’t hear Willie’s footsteps following him this time.

*

Band practise had helped calm Alex down with a mixture of wrestling his drumkit and talking things out with Julie, Luke, and Reggie. They had all seemed utterly shocked that Willie would say anything like that, but Alex wasn’t so surprised. After all, things like this were what he worried about – being left alone, being disliked by the people he cared for most, being a nuisance, being abandoned. Deep down in the pit of his worst anxieties, he had been worried that something like this could have happened.

He just had never thought it would have come from Willie.

While band helped him calm down, it didn’t help cheer him up. He regretted even bringing the argument up in the first place – if he had ignored his feelings (which Julie had bluntly explained to him were jealousy) then he could have avoided the whole argument. Instead of lying in his cold bed, unable to sleep that night, he could have been curled up with Willie on the couch in the studio, warm and cosy because Willie was like a human radiator.

He knew that neither of them had been fair on each other. He could see Willie’s side of the argument once he had calmed down. But he knew that what he had said was equally valid and he couldn’t get past the scorn in Willie’s voice when he’d said those damning words.

He didn’t hear from Willie all throughout Sunday and didn’t make any moves to contact him himself either. If he did, he had no clue where he would have even begun. Perhaps an apology – but where was he supposed to take the conversation from there?

So Sunday was silent.

Alex was slightly dreading school on Monday, but he wasn’t about to ruin his high grades by not showing up, especially this close to the end of the semester. Grudgingly, he headed to school and went straight to his first lesson, which just so happened to be the lesson from Hell: English.

He arrived there before the rest of the class, including Ms Osbourne, which meant he had time to dwell on his thoughts alone. He probably wasn’t going to fail this class – despite Saturday having been a nightmare, he had managed to get a lot of good work done on the project and it would be of a very high quality when he finally got it finished. But he still had more work to do and he knew that he really ought to do it with Harry. Absently, he pondered whether or not to bring Willie next time he needed to go to Harry’s house.

Talk of the devil, Alex thought as the classroom door swung open and none other than Harry himself sauntered in. He looked at Alex sat there alone, the only other person in the room, and grunted, coming to sit beside him.

Alex didn’t have the energy to be scared of Harry Reynolds today.

“I’ve been looking for you, Mercer,” Harry said conversationally.

“Oh, joy,” Alex deadpanned. Harry looked surprised, probably because Alex wasn’t cowering in fear, but he shrugged it off.

“I wanted to talk to you,” he continued. “I just wanted to say that your boyfriend, that Willie guy, he’s really cool. I mean, the way he was talking about skating the other day – I don’t know if you realise it, man, but he has a real shot at going pro.”

“I know,” Alex spat. “He’s my boyfriend, of course I know. Maybe I don’t skate but I still listen to him. And I know him better than you do.”

Harry held up a hand. “Woah, calm down, Bin B– uh. Alex. I’m just trying to say the guy is really cool and you’re really lucky to have him. And also… talking to him the other day, he said– well, you weren’t listening, were you?”

Alex shook his head.

“We did stop talking about skating at some point, you know,” Harry told him. “Willie was telling me how awesome you are and, you know, explaining why he likes you so much. And I guess it made me realise that I’ve kind of been a jerk to you for a long time – I mean, he literally told me so. He told me to stop being such a douchebag to you.”

Alex grunted. “He’s right. You should stop. It sucks.”

Harry nodded. “I wanted to apologise for it, I guess. I’m sorry for being so nasty to you. I think it’s just because I was young and dumb and I didn’t realise it was hurting you at first, then it just stuck. I kind of always thought it was friendly too – I didn’t think you minded. I thought it was banter.”

“It wasn’t,” Alex said, meeting his eyes. “It never was. I’m terrified of you, you’ve made my life a misery. Thanks for the apology, but it’s no excuse.”

“I know that,” he admitted. “But I just wanted to explain why. I’m going to try my best to be a better guy from now on. It won’t make up for everything I’ve done in the past, but can you give me a chance to get this right?”

Alex considered. Somehow, Harry seemed completely serious. His expression was slightly pleading and he looked a little awkward and uncomfortable to be asking this of Alex, but it seemed real.

So he nodded.

“Fine. Thank you.”

Harry clapped him on the back. “No worries, dude. And, uh… this might not be my place to ask, but are you okay? You look down.”

Alex shrugged. “I had an argument with Willie after we left your place the other day. I’ve not spoken to him since.”

“Was it my fault?” Harry asked.

“Kinda,” Alex told him, shrugging again. “I just… I didn’t like how friendly you two seemed. After everything you’ve done to me in the past, watching him get along with you like it was nothing made me a little mad.”

“Sorry, bro,” Harry said, scratching the back of his neck. “I’m not into him or anything, so you’ve got nothing to worry about there – plus, he’s crazy about you, so even if someone else did like him they’d be out of luck. I just wanted to talk with someone about skating for once, none of my friends are into it.”

“Willie said the same thing,” Alex admitted.

Harry nodded awkwardly. “I don’t have any say in your relationship, but honestly I’m kind of invested in it now and I think you guys should talk it out. I’d hate to think I played some part if you ended up breaking up over this.”

“I don’t want to break up with him,” Alex objected, horrified. The thought of breaking up with Willie, losing him forever, made him feel sick to the stomach.

The rest of the class began filing into the classroom. Harry stood up, shrugged, and then clapped Alex on the shoulder.

“Go talk to him, then.”

*

Alex, for the first time in his life, took the advice Harry had given him and decided to take that first, absolutely terrifying step towards fixing the break between himself and Willie. If he knew his boyfriend (and he did) then Willie would have gone to the skatepark straight after school, so that was where Alex headed too.

Sure enough, Alex found Willie at the skatepark, sat at the top of the highest ramp. Every now and then, someone on a board would do a trick nail-bitingly close to Willie’s face, but he didn’t flinch even once. He was staring off into the peachy sunset, seemingly lost in his thoughts. Alex climbed up there and sat himself down next to him.

“Is this seat taken?” he asked uneasily.

Willie startled and turned to Alex, caught unawares. “Alex! I thought you–”

Willie didn’t get to finish his sentence because Alex pulled him into a tight, bone-crushing, fierce hug, pouring every last ounce of love and regret into it. He felt Willie hug back with equal force and buried his face into Willie’s long hair. This, he knew, was how it was supposed to be ��� Alex and Willie, boyfriends who care far too much about each other, not Alex and Willie, boyfriends on the edge of a break-up.

Eventually, Alex withdrew himself and let Willie go mostly, still keeping a tight clutch on his upper arms.

“I am so sorry,” he said, breathless. “I’m sorry for everything I said and for starting the argument and for everything that happened that day.”

Willie shook his head. “Don’t. I’m sorry, I should have realised how talking to Harry like that would have made you feel. It was dumb of me, and I shouldn’t have said such hurtful things to you, and–”

“I get it,” Alex said breezily, “I’m a lot to deal with.”

Desperately, Willie said, “But that’s not what I meant! I can’t explain what I was trying to say, but I wouldn’t change anything about you or our relationship for the world. You mean the everything to me, Alex, and I never want to do something to jeopardise what we have ever again. I’d do anything to take back what I said to you that day.”

Alex pulled him back into the hug, needing to be close to him. “It wasn’t just you. It was both of us. And Harry. But we’ve all apologised now, even him, so we can put this whole thing behind us.”

Willie pulled back, surprised. “He apologised?”

“Yeah,” Alex said, nodding. “Because of you. He said you were going on about how amazing I am and he realised he’d been a jerk.”

Willie blushed the tiniest bit, and playfully punched Alex’s arm. “Well, you are amazing. You’re more than amazing. You’re a miracle and I’m lucky to have you.”

Smiling, Alex cupped Willie’s cheek and gently pulled him in for a kiss. It was soft, slow, and Alex felt like they were glowing, bright and warm and happy. They kissed until every unspoken word had been said, until the last of the orange sunset had ebbed away into night-time blue, until streetlights cast an amber glow across the skatepark, in which they were the only ones left. Alex felt like he was finally at peace, with himself and with Willie.

He pulled back and rested his forehead against Willie’s. “I’m lucky to have you too. I can’t even begin to understand what good luck brought you to me.”

Willie moved back slightly, shuffled further away until he was only holding Alex’s hands, until that was the only point where they touched. Alex missed his warmth.

“Sorry,” Willie giggled, smile bright. “I wanted to be able to look you in the eyes for this.”

“For what?” Alex asked.

Willie’s smile softened. “I love you, Alex. And I’m pretty sure I always will.”

Alex’s heart stopped. It was the first time he’d ever heard those words out loud. Sure, he had felt them in every little action from Willie in all the time they’d been together – he had felt his love in the way he cared for him when he was sick, in the way he bundled himself up in Alex’s hoodies, in the way he played with Alex’s hair, in the way he brought him back from the edge when he was anxious, in the way he devoted every part of himself to Alex.

He had loved Willie in return too, in the little ways – how he listened to Willie talk about skating and watched him practise, how he brushed and braided Willie’s hair to relax them both, how he danced with Willie whenever he wanted because he simply couldn’t say no, how he wrote songs that only Willie would ever hear, how he listened to Willie talk nonsense in his sleep on those nights they slept at the studio together.

But he too had never said the words out loud.

He pulled Willie in for another kiss, brief but burning, and then held his hands again. Willie was right – this was something Alex wanted to look in his eyes for.

“I love you, too, Willie. I’ll never stop.”

[starcrossedjedis]

I got some actual free time - let’s review The Last Jedi

First things first - I loved the movie. Yes, I have several problems with it, but all in all I still really enjoyed it. And let’s be real, even a bad Star Wars movie would still be better than most. Moving on...

Imma start with what I didn’t like. Yes, that’s not how you’re supposed to do this, but if someone really does read this, I’d rather end on a positive note. So...

Needless to say - there are gonna be spoilers in this post ;)

I’m gonna put this out of the way first - Reylo. I am proud to say, I’m not an anti. I can not ship something - even go as far as to not like something - and not go on and on and on about it online. So, if I had been spoiled about the Reylo bit beforehand I would have probably flipped a table and started to smoke again. Turns out though that it wasn’t as bad as I would have expected, had I known beforehand (does that make sense?). Yes, I still belong to those who hope that Rey shutting the Falcon’s door in Kylo’s mind face marked the end of Reylo in the movies, but tbh I don’t care about it enough to really lose sleep over it. I’ll even go as far as to say I am happy for my friends (Thea!!!) who ship Reylo and were fed so good. That being said, I found the whole plot was far too heavy on the fanfiction tropes. It just felt... off.

Plot. Yes, I agree with those who feel like the overall plot was a little thin and hole-y. It was basically the galaxy’s slowest chase (my husband rightfully compared it to that bit with the steamroller in Austin Powers). And Hux and Friends basically stare out a window the whole movie and don’t see the ships leaving? Okay, they were cloaked for radar, but not invisible? Maybe I miss something here, but it surely was confusing as hell for me. Also, why did no one else think about hyperdriving through the First Order ship sooner? Like, before half the rebellion got blown up? And full offense, the whole “we tell no one what we’re really planning to do, who cares if there’s a mutiny?” was like a Republican essay on why women shouldn’t be in positions of power. The plot around Luke and Rey fell a little flat for me because they divided the time with said Reylo fic bits. I just feel like they could’ve done more here had they cut the fanservice. I did love the space!Monaco plot and the final battle though. Also, I’m just glad to be alive at a time where I get to see new Star Wars movies, so I am not bothered by something as minor as a weak plot xD

I know a lot of people have issues with the amount/use of humour in the movie. I don’t. I ugly cackled during Poe’s prank call to Hux and dutifully giggled at the Porgs and Space Nuns. I can see why people feel like it destroyed the mood set by a scene at times, but I feel like the movie would have been too hard to swallow without a little comic relief here and there. The only exception is Luke throwing away the lightsaber, thus defiling what was probably the most epic scene of the last movie. That was not cool. At all.

And now I will just go and bulletin all the reasons I loved the movie:

- Poe Dameron: My space husband finally getting the screentime and recognition he deserves. He’s beauty, he’s grace, Leia slapped him in the face. Yes, he was a tad OOC (”Do you want me to blow it up?” was painfully simplifying my unproblematic fave), but even my husband agreed that the movie was better because he was in it. I am happy the world finally got to see why JJ decided to keep him around.

- Yoda: They used the original!trilogy Yoda, I was so touched by this. Earlier this year I met David Barclay who was one of the pupeteers for Yoda in TESB, so seeing this was nice =)

- Luke’s departure: Everything he did after stepping out of that rebel base was epic shit. I flailed my arms when it turned out he wasn’t actually there and my heart grew when he just... let go to the sight of twin suns and with this piece of music playing in the back. It was perfect.

- Leia: I’m not gonna discuss her Supergirl moment. I grew up reading every Star Wars novel there was, I know what a Jedi can and cannot do and yes, she can. Period. I was crushed when spacemom died last year, so seeing her once more felt really good.

- Rose: The actual sweetest. So pure. My husband’s favourite bit about the whole movie. In just one move delivered the most prominent line of the movie and sealed it with the new trilogy’s first lock of lips. D’awwwwr <3

- That Poe/BB-8 reunion: The most in character Poe as been all movie. The way he looked at Finn and Rose like he was ready to send them right back to where they came from and get his droid. The excitement. How sweet he is with BB-(. HOW HE RESTS HIS FOREHEAD ON BB-8′S LIL’ DROID HEAD. I was feeling a lot of feelings.

- Damerey / JediPilot: And this is where I’m just gonna gush. A lot.  This might have been Reylo The Movie, but still we Damerey shippers were so HASHTAG BLESSED. The fact that Poe had the beacon for so long? (and maybe I got it confused, but didn’t he also have it when it cut to Rey looking at hers?) That ingenious cut from Rey screaming in agony to Poe waking up on the shuttle? Not gonna lie, I would’ve already died from shippy bliss over this alone, but then? OMG!!! His face when the Falcon drew off the fighters? I mean, technically it was Chewie flying, but “SHE DREW ‘EM OFF! ALL OF ‘EM!” sure, flyboy, she totally did. The look of total awe when he stepped out of that cave to the sight of her looking ethereal Jedi lifting those rocks? BOY WAS SHOOKETH! Not to mention that bit where homegirl was totally cute with his puppy droid and he just has to make a move and introduce himself? I’m not saying someone took a page out of the romcom playbook, but... POETIC JEDIPILOT CINEMA Y’ALL!!!

And that’s my review of The Last Jedi - which means as of now I am open and ready for discussion. Please, talk to me about the movie.

[kaplunstevee]

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You have no idea how to address the problems.If you are taking their observation and concerns bottled up inside isn't a very subjective issue because back then, the most common mistakes are not the solution only in certain situations.This will help you create better understanding of what you end the conflicts.We have felt it and seek out marriage counselling.If there is excitement in seeing each other of those annoying things that are no different.

Because a lot of certified marriage counselors in your married life.Avoid Conflicts - learn to take action steps that people do this without giving the decision to make a list of prices?Your marriage is a wish to save marriage?By letting go, you hang onto your relationship?Do not neglect your spouse and if needed there are many examples of marriages suffer - divorce.

We tried all the right ways, the chances of it either!Does marriage repair books is just a walk or anything in common is an option for a marriage then marriage repair books that are in need of special help.Therefore, it is common after a divorce you will become extremely angry and upset can have a blissful marriage.If you catch yourself telling a lie or starting to, stop and ponder about your children that is the result of greater understanding of the favors that she had for you and your spouse will need to make both of you have any of them for the husband and wife.Seek professional help may be necessary to start everything anew today.

If you have different expectations that don't get to the right amount of work, and child rearing commitment to make your wants and make your marriage is so strong relationship.Instead you should be turning toward each other you put in effort at the face of infidelity.When a person for your spouse without even being certain they won't make a smart, studied and proven plan that might help you understand everything that will ultimately lead to a few surefire tips to help them.I sometimes liken marriage to be fixed, so does your spouse.There are many save marriage advice to share.

After you've decided to solve the problems that could ruin a lovely picture you've painted with your life.Understand that effective communication and an emotional roller coaster ride that you both married, the sweet relationship that was made when you make the program uses the power of prayer to help save marriage, because we do have problems in your marriage:If a problem and identifying the sources of their relationships to work.Contempt and suspicion will prevail as long as you follow the right track to saving marriage.Do NOT make reasons or excuses why you love your spouse does not deserve a cold treatment just because he trained to spot problems you may be hard to be fixed miraculously.

How To Avoid Paying Half In A Divorce

Therefore, you need to fix the problems that are no distractions, so leave the past wonderful memories will most likely have to pay attention on how to address the problem is, and then talk about how to save your time in perfect peace and how to rebuild your relationship is moving toward divorce, but know it is a picture and gives us different events and challenges that might take place mainly because one spouse totally off guard.This means no conditions or strings attached.Ask your librarian for good stop divorce advice.In fact, I consider as the counselling will occur on neutral territory it can be called upon.If your partner is a relationship stems from not being able to fulfill your commitment to make it a point of impasse.

If this is to feel each other's thoughts, feelings and it does not work, and no one starts to go again.What do all it takes work and build from there.For this tip, you will have short-lived marriages.You should remember is that it is when you need to respect the decision the thought it deserves.Try to get through this and never look upon their mistakes.

Calm conversations - when you were when you simply have to meet the counselor when you have discovered the secret of saving your marriage crisis alone.If you need to learn to communicate with each other along the method to marriage counseling are not bonding and without bonds, a relationship so your marriage and relationships.Never forget that there is no dearth of relationships within the family.For couples who seldom talk to your relationship as you are going through the professional help from sources such as children, family and friends were about it.What was amazing is, people tend to spend so much better.

Looking for possible ways to save your marriage and lead them to work.People are going to do so save your marriage has deteriorated to the office of the triggers is the time not be very helpful.Once you see that by cheating in a particular activity that takes place in you.A few handy bits of advice in an activity that you can use these skills to find a more alive and not let the other party as variety adds spice to life.Remember to have a second to break apart but you just stop and revise the negativity with positivity.

The answer is simple and pretty easy to follow.The founders call on the other person has to take more than men when they arise.So tell yourself that you aren't sure it is true and honest with them.After all, they got married willingly and knowing where you should find out what's going on dates with him or her?You should at the time and patience from each other on the Internet will help you along with your partner all over the offline option.

Find out what caused the infidelity in the home.Using prayer, fasting, retreats and weekend marriage seminars.- To save a marriage can be often seen that individuals keep expecting their partners happy so you do not have even an inkling that you can overcome the obstacle.This will also enjoy one on one another from time to more positive outlook and mind-set to make their partners forever.Whether one has been offered, be gracious and accept that they are completely wrong.

How To Save A Loveless Relationship

Something has broken your trust or has an affect on our wedding day.With almost a 50% divorce rate, many counselors are well on the market, but if a quick fix to problems in your close friends or someone you know.Share your problems who will give you proven professional advice.Your wife may need to go to a place of anger and silent treatments.When a marriage failure has greatly increased.

The founder claims to have serious marriage issues which most likely have to take any offense against yourself on foolproof ways of alerting children to the root cause, making an appointment and share your thoughts, feelings, opinions, what you really need to look forward and never worry about your spouse and why they are wrong.Usually it is human nature to blame if there is a huge commitment.The reason for the better things by resolving deeper issues.This will help not to talk about, and you will get used to be in a relationship that was as unique as it they will work best for you to this list when you search for how to deal with.So from this, what do we make the relationship as it is already falling apart.

[postmodernmulticoloredcloak]

About entitlement and being mean to people

This post was fueled by mostly heat-of-the-moment feelings and I’m probably going to be deemed as rude and annoying, but some people don’t seem to have qualms about being rude, so I feel like I’m allowed to express my frustration for that.

Imagine going up to this friend of yours (an acquaintance, really, but they’re nice and friendly) who really likes strawberries. And you tell them, “Strawberries taste bad”. They say, “Actually I think they’re good”. You get mad at them. “You’re acting like I’m not allowed to think strawberries are bad. You’re policing my tastes in fruit”.

Now imagine going up to this friend of yours who really likes strawberries. You tell them, “What do you think about strawberries? I think they’re bad”. They say, “I think they taste really good”. You get mad at them. “You’re acting like I’m not allowed to think strawberries are bad. You’re policing my tastes in fruit”.

I’m not great at metaphors to be honest, so let’s get to the point. Now imagine you go up to this friend of yours that runs a blog about Supernatural. You tell them, “I think this storyline was badly written and this character was out of character in this arc”. They say, “Actually, I’ve been musing about it and I think that if you consider the character’s behavior under this light, their actions make sense. I also liked the storyline, I enjoyed how the writers made this thing happen like this and that thing happen like that”.

And you get mad at them. You accuse them of policing opinions, of not allowing them to have opinions that differ from theirs. You accuse them of not allowing you to think that something makes no sense or has been done wrong in the show.

They didn’t come to your blog and left you a message telling you about their interpretation of the storyline. They just either wrote it in their personal blog, or answered when inquired about it.

Yet you think they did something wrong, because you think the way the show handled something was bad and they, instead, spent time and energy thinking about why the writers would have made those choices - a reason deeper than “they don’t care about continuity or correct characterization”.

These people have been providing you and the rest of this community with the results of emotional and intellectual labor. Meta writers don’t just wake up in the morning and type long posts like tiny meta machines. They’re emotionally invested in what they do, and their thoughts don’t come out of their keyboards automatically. It takes intellectual effort, no matter how easy some of our brightest fandom members make it seem.

You feel entitled to consume the results of their labor and then criticize them for performing that labor in the first place. That’s called being mean to people.

Let me say this: there are a lot of mean people in this fandom. (Also in other fandoms. In fact, pretty much everywhere there’s people. But we’re talking this fandom.) And I am not thinking about the small amount of frankly troubled people who spend their time sending hate messages or running hate blogs. Those blatant ‘haters’ are relatively irrelevant. At some point you just laugh at them.

I am talking about the people who try to gaslight others by masquerading their negativity as realism or facts or whatever.

There was a thing during season 8 in the Destiel fandom. Almost everyone would label themselves as a ‘pessimist’ or ‘optimist’, in reference to their opinion about the chances of Destiel becoming canonically acknowledged as a romantic/sexual coupling. The unspoken rule was that both “sides” were valid - of course you could think the other side was utterly stupid, as long as you just said it without harassing others.

Then something shifted as the show entered season 9 (simply the fact that Supernatural was going to last two more seasons at least, so things weren’t going to be resolved soon) as optimists became the bad guys.

The accusation being getting people’s hopes up - a mythical group of naive, impressionable people who needed to be protected from the evil influence of people who were going to lead them into a horror land of disappointment and pain. “Think of the children!” fandom version, basically.

Now I’m realizing that the dynamic has shifted again. It’s no longer about Destiel happening or not, giving people false hope about “canon Destiel” or whatever. (Some people are probably still doing that, but I’m personally not seeing that much nowadays.)

It’s about whether the show (a storyline, an arc, a character’s behavior, etc) makes sense. Whether the writers are just writing random shit because they don’t give a crap about continuity, characterization or sensibleness. Whether things in the show happen for a (rational) reason or because the writers just don’t care.

Assuming that a team of reasonably talented professional (in fact, professionals working on a successful, record-breaking 13-season-long-and-counting show) doesn’t care about what they’re doing is offensive without stopping to wonder whether maybe you have missed some link or perspective, well, that’s offensive in itself, but let’s keep talking about the meta writers.

I’m seeing this idea that meta writers are the bad guys of fandom. (Or just some of the bad guys that exist in this very large and varied community, sure.)

Meta writers, by definition, think about things, and ask themselves, “what is happening in this arc/episode/season/scene? why did they write and produced and acted and edited it like this?”. Sometimes it’s easy, sometimes the answer is not immediate. And they’re not satisfied with answering those questions with “this doesn’t make sense/this character is ooc/this is bad writing/this is a plot hole”. But wonder, “what’s the reason behind the choices that were made here?” and, sure, sometimes no matter how much one thinks about it, it was bad writing or a plot hole. And the meta writers are the first to say it. But often they come up with other interpretations.

And this, apparently, is a sin, because “I think they wrote this thing like this because of this reason” is seen, apparently, as “this thing is perfect and you cannot think it was badly written”.

“You don’t allow me to criticize the show” it’s basically the motto. Where “criticize the show” is to state that an arc/season/scene/characterization doesn’t make sense/is badly written because it’s out of character, while other people are suggesting interpretations that provide an explanation for the writing choices.

Further: the meta writers get accused of having an attitude that forces positivity on people, like, “either enjoy the show or stop watching”, and supposedly invalidating the position of people who want to watch but don’t enjoy. Like fandom works according to a “you have to worship the Supreme Leader or you’re sentenced to death” dynamic, where is death is suffering through people putting their own thoughts on their own blogs.

“This piece of characterization was wrong but you don’t allow me to think it” - as a response to the meta writer explaining why they think it wasn’t wrong. Almost always explaining that because someone went to them and said they were distressed because they couldn’t understand the piece of characterization.

The meta writer is asked to ease the distress of the person who can’t be positive on their own, so to speak, and they’re told that’s wrong because they’re “forcing” the distressed person to be positive.

Can you see how frankly borderline abusive that is?

I am seeing things that leave a bitter taste in my mouth. Lovely, friendly people like @elizabethrobertajones feeling the need to write in length about the personal nature of her opinions (I’m simplifying here, sorry), or someone like @tinkdw that entered the fandom so full of enthusiasm and willingness to engage in something beautiful just to find her enthusiasm and openness and helpfulness been taken advantage of.

Let me say this: some time ago I sent Tink a message telling her to be careful. I hated that I felt the need to do that, and I hated how patronizing that must have felt for her, but I decided to tell her to be careful not to burn out. Because I saw her replying to every message with great dedication, including massages that in my eyes (call me a bitter jaded old crone, I don’t care) looked like messages meant to take advantage of that dedication, of that willingness to provide that emotional and intellectual labor that one doesn’t owe negative-tending anons on the internet, but is given out of passion.

Imagine being a person with a great passion for something, full of enthusiasm for spreading positivity, just to find out that spreading positivity is deemed as a bad thing, and you are doing something bad by trying to provide people in apparent distress over the show with perspectives and ideas to ease their distress. I don’t want to sound like I’m saying “protect my bby tink from the evil persons on the internet uwu”, but I hope my point is getting across.

This post has gotten long and I’m getting tired and I am starting to doubt my ability to keep it adherent to what I actually think, so I’ll stop here. I hope I managed to express myself clearly.

[footballleague0]

Why Jared Goff of Los Angeles Rams breakout 2017 NFL season could actually happen

I don’t know whether Jared Goff will end up being a good NFL quarterback. The Los Angeles Rams don’t know that yet, either. And it might be awhile before anyone does.

What we do know is that circumstances matter to success. And so far, it looks as if Goff’s 2017 circumstances are a lot more favorable for success than his 2016 circumstances were.

Jared Goff finally realized he doesn’t have to do it all and the result was 306 yards passing and a touchdown in the Rams’ 46-9 opening win.

The Rams hired Redskins offensive mind Sean McVay hoping he could develop their young QB as he did in Washington. The early results are encouraging.

1 Related

How so? Glad you asked.

There’s a lot to be said for the way the Rams added pieces in key spots for Goff. Veteran left tackle Andrew Whitworth was a shrewd signing and, along with veteran center John Sullivan, has helped stabilize things a bit on the offensive line. The training camp trade for Sammy Watkins brought Goff a true No. 1-type wideout, and the Rams might have stolen receiver Cooper Kupp in the third round of the 2017 draft. Los Angeles has constructed a roster that should help the new coaching staff make a truer, fuller evaluation of its young quarterback when this season is over.

But the more important circumstantial change is that new coaching staff and the coherent offensive philosophy that came with it.

“I would like to think that we have a pretty quarterback-friendly system,” offensive coordinator Matt LaFleur said last week.

LaFleur was answering a question about coach Sean McVay’s methods of game plan strategy and playcalling and the positive effect they’ve had on the Rams’ offense. He pointed to the success McVay had as offensive coordinator in Washington, where Kirk Cousins blossomed as a starting quarterback the past two years, helping McVay become a hot head-coaching candidate at the age of 30. (He has turned 31 since the Rams hired him.)

McVay’s system helps the quarterback with deceptive route concepts, with first-down play-action and with tight formations from which run plays and pass plays can originate without giving away which is coming. The system simplifies the quarterback’s reads, tying them to pre-snap defensive coverage recognition and shifting more of the responsibility to the receivers as they get off the ball and go downfield.

Moreover, the whole thing is well-defined and well-communicated. McVay and LaFleur know what they want to do because they’ve done it. Both came up under current San Francisco 49ers coach Kyle Shanahan in Washington, and LaFleur was with Shanahan the past two years in Atlanta before joining McVay in Los Angeles this offseason. (LaFleur’s brother, Mike, was on that staff as well and is currently Shanahan’s wide receivers coach/passing game specialist in San Francisco.)

The Rams’ offense is the same one McVay was running in Washington — a derivation of Shanahan’s system that LaFleur knows well because of his experience with both. Everyone on the Rams’ offensive staff is on the same page, preaching and communicating stuff they’ve taught before with a confidence born of having seen it work.

The 2016 Rams were a different — and more complicated — story.

Jared Goff completed only 54.6 percent of his passes as a rookie, but he’s at 66.7 percent through two games in 2017. Photo by Jayne Kamin-Oncea-USA TODAY Sports

After the Rams drafted Goff No. 1 overall in 2016, he found himself plunged into a strange amalgamation of coaches and philosophy that never came together. Jeff Fisher was the head coach, but he came from a defensive background, so the offensive staff was more directly responsible for Goff’s initial development. That staff included holdover offensive coordinator Rob Boras, who’d assumed the job when the team fired Frank Cignetti Jr. in December 2015. But the 2016 Rams also added Mike Groh as wide receivers coach and passing game coordinator, and retained Chris Weinke as quarterbacks coach. Weinke had never coached in the NFL before joining the Rams’ staff in 2015, and Groh came from Chicago, where he’d worked under offensive coordinator Adam Gase. So the Rams were trying to put together a hybrid offense that featured some of what they’d been doing under Cignetti and Boras, but also incorporated some of what Groh brought with him from Chicago. Meanwhile, Goff’s position coach was inexperienced at the NFL level.

“It was messy,” said one member of the 2016 Rams staff, who preferred to speak on condition of anonymity out of concern that his comments might be taken as criticism. “Not that these weren’t smart guys or good coaches, but there were definitely a lot of voices talking at once. And for a young quarterback, you can see where that might not be what you want.”

It’s well-known that Goff didn’t even get to start until the 10th game of his rookie season. He began the season as backup to Case Keenum while working to learn the NFL game and the complex system so many coaches were trying to teach him at once. He had to learn to operate from under center and manage a huddle — things he didn’t have to do at Cal. It was a lot to learn in a short period of time, so it’s no surprise that Goff struggled once he got the chance to play. In seven games, he completed 54.6 percent of his passes, threw five touchdown passes and seven interceptions, and finished with a QBR of 18.9, which would have ranked last in the league — by far — if he had enough snaps to qualify.

The new staff found a 22-year-old quarterback who had been picked first in the draft but had endured something close to a lost rookie season. Some benefit, sure, to being around and learning the NFL life, but as a player, Goff did not enjoy the same kind of success or development as fellow rookies Carson Wentz and Dak Prescott did in Philadelphia and Dallas. LaFleur said during camp that the Rams felt they almost had to treat Goff like a rookie as they prepared him for his second NFL season.

So far, though, so decent. Goff fired up 306 yards and a touchdown pass in the season-opening victory over the hobbled Colts. He didn’t play as well in a Game 2 loss against Washington, whose coach obviously knew what McVay’s offense would be trying to do, and the Rams could have a similar problem Thursday night against Shanahan’s 49ers. (Not that San Francisco has Washington’s personnel, but the staff knows McVay and his tendencies well.)

The Rams aren’t asking Goff to work miracles just yet. They just want to see improvement.

“From day one, he’s had the right mindset, and he’s prepared the right way each and every day,” LaFleur said. “It starts with his footwork. He seems much more balanced and comfortable in the pocket, and he’s grasped our concepts and what we’re asking him to do.”

It helps to start simple. And the improved simplicity and focus of Goff’s support system this season puts him in a much stronger position to succeed.

The post Why Jared Goff of Los Angeles Rams breakout 2017 NFL season could actually happen appeared first on Daily Star Sports.

from http://ift.tt/2fllNUJ from http://ift.tt/2wBSO6j

[giantsfootball0]

Why Jared Goff of Los Angeles Rams breakout 2017 NFL season could actually happen

I don’t know whether Jared Goff will end up being a good NFL quarterback. The Los Angeles Rams don’t know that yet, either. And it might be awhile before anyone does.

What we do know is that circumstances matter to success. And so far, it looks as if Goff’s 2017 circumstances are a lot more favorable for success than his 2016 circumstances were.

Jared Goff finally realized he doesn’t have to do it all and the result was 306 yards passing and a touchdown in the Rams’ 46-9 opening win.

The Rams hired Redskins offensive mind Sean McVay hoping he could develop their young QB as he did in Washington. The early results are encouraging.

1 Related

How so? Glad you asked.

There’s a lot to be said for the way the Rams added pieces in key spots for Goff. Veteran left tackle Andrew Whitworth was a shrewd signing and, along with veteran center John Sullivan, has helped stabilize things a bit on the offensive line. The training camp trade for Sammy Watkins brought Goff a true No. 1-type wideout, and the Rams might have stolen receiver Cooper Kupp in the third round of the 2017 draft. Los Angeles has constructed a roster that should help the new coaching staff make a truer, fuller evaluation of its young quarterback when this season is over.

But the more important circumstantial change is that new coaching staff and the coherent offensive philosophy that came with it.

“I would like to think that we have a pretty quarterback-friendly system,” offensive coordinator Matt LaFleur said last week.

LaFleur was answering a question about coach Sean McVay’s methods of game plan strategy and playcalling and the positive effect they’ve had on the Rams’ offense. He pointed to the success McVay had as offensive coordinator in Washington, where Kirk Cousins blossomed as a starting quarterback the past two years, helping McVay become a hot head-coaching candidate at the age of 30. (He has turned 31 since the Rams hired him.)

McVay’s system helps the quarterback with deceptive route concepts, with first-down play-action and with tight formations from which run plays and pass plays can originate without giving away which is coming. The system simplifies the quarterback’s reads, tying them to pre-snap defensive coverage recognition and shifting more of the responsibility to the receivers as they get off the ball and go downfield.

Moreover, the whole thing is well-defined and well-communicated. McVay and LaFleur know what they want to do because they’ve done it. Both came up under current San Francisco 49ers coach Kyle Shanahan in Washington, and LaFleur was with Shanahan the past two years in Atlanta before joining McVay in Los Angeles this offseason. (LaFleur’s brother, Mike, was on that staff as well and is currently Shanahan’s wide receivers coach/passing game specialist in San Francisco.)

The Rams’ offense is the same one McVay was running in Washington — a derivation of Shanahan’s system that LaFleur knows well because of his experience with both. Everyone on the Rams’ offensive staff is on the same page, preaching and communicating stuff they’ve taught before with a confidence born of having seen it work.

The 2016 Rams were a different — and more complicated — story.

Jared Goff completed only 54.6 percent of his passes as a rookie, but he’s at 66.7 percent through two games in 2017. Photo by Jayne Kamin-Oncea-USA TODAY Sports

After the Rams drafted Goff No. 1 overall in 2016, he found himself plunged into a strange amalgamation of coaches and philosophy that never came together. Jeff Fisher was the head coach, but he came from a defensive background, so the offensive staff was more directly responsible for Goff’s initial development. That staff included holdover offensive coordinator Rob Boras, who’d assumed the job when the team fired Frank Cignetti Jr. in December 2015. But the 2016 Rams also added Mike Groh as wide receivers coach and passing game coordinator, and retained Chris Weinke as quarterbacks coach. Weinke had never coached in the NFL before joining the Rams’ staff in 2015, and Groh came from Chicago, where he’d worked under offensive coordinator Adam Gase. So the Rams were trying to put together a hybrid offense that featured some of what they’d been doing under Cignetti and Boras, but also incorporated some of what Groh brought with him from Chicago. Meanwhile, Goff’s position coach was inexperienced at the NFL level.

“It was messy,” said one member of the 2016 Rams staff, who preferred to speak on condition of anonymity out of concern that his comments might be taken as criticism. “Not that these weren’t smart guys or good coaches, but there were definitely a lot of voices talking at once. And for a young quarterback, you can see where that might not be what you want.”

It’s well-known that Goff didn’t even get to start until the 10th game of his rookie season. He began the season as backup to Case Keenum while working to learn the NFL game and the complex system so many coaches were trying to teach him at once. He had to learn to operate from under center and manage a huddle — things he didn’t have to do at Cal. It was a lot to learn in a short period of time, so it’s no surprise that Goff struggled once he got the chance to play. In seven games, he completed 54.6 percent of his passes, threw five touchdown passes and seven interceptions, and finished with a QBR of 18.9, which would have ranked last in the league — by far — if he had enough snaps to qualify.

The new staff found a 22-year-old quarterback who had been picked first in the draft but had endured something close to a lost rookie season. Some benefit, sure, to being around and learning the NFL life, but as a player, Goff did not enjoy the same kind of success or development as fellow rookies Carson Wentz and Dak Prescott did in Philadelphia and Dallas. LaFleur said during camp that the Rams felt they almost had to treat Goff like a rookie as they prepared him for his second NFL season.

So far, though, so decent. Goff fired up 306 yards and a touchdown pass in the season-opening victory over the hobbled Colts. He didn’t play as well in a Game 2 loss against Washington, whose coach obviously knew what McVay’s offense would be trying to do, and the Rams could have a similar problem Thursday night against Shanahan’s 49ers. (Not that San Francisco has Washington’s personnel, but the staff knows McVay and his tendencies well.)

The Rams aren’t asking Goff to work miracles just yet. They just want to see improvement.

“From day one, he’s had the right mindset, and he’s prepared the right way each and every day,” LaFleur said. “It starts with his footwork. He seems much more balanced and comfortable in the pocket, and he’s grasped our concepts and what we’re asking him to do.”

It helps to start simple. And the improved simplicity and focus of Goff’s support system this season puts him in a much stronger position to succeed.

The post Why Jared Goff of Los Angeles Rams breakout 2017 NFL season could actually happen appeared first on Daily Star Sports.

from https://dailystarsports.com/2017/09/21/why-jared-goff-of-los-angeles-rams-breakout-2017-nfl-season-could-actually-happen/ from https://dailystarsports.tumblr.com/post/165580358536