#watch them address each other as “brother” this season

[sherlocking-out-loud]

i'm chewing glass at this point

[catharusustulatus]

Like, if Stancy does happen (ugh) I’d need a certain amount of conditions met to not feel like Steve and Nancy were robbed of their round characterization, and I just don’t feel like the Duffers are going to meet them. That’s what makes me hesitant about Stancy. I love both characters so much, and I don’t think it would absolutely ruin their arcs if they ended up back together, but so much would need addressing. Right person wrong time is great, but Nancy never got the chance to respond to Steve when he said he essentially still loves her in the UD. Does she feel the same? Is it right person wrong time, or a relationship of proximity? What does Nancy want? Does she still not want to end up like her parents/in a house on a cul de sac like she claims in season 1? Does she still plan on going to college? Would Steve go with her? What does Steve want? He wants a big family and to travel, but does he want a certain job, would he go back to school? Does he want to get out of Hawkins? How do they talk about Barb and how her death broke them up? Are they going to address how quickly Nancy seemed to move on with Jonathan? Are they going to talk at all? When will they have the time? I imagine the season will be so action packed there won’t be any time to talk, and they’ll kiss passionately in the heat of battle or some shit. Jonathan will say something stupid to Nancy like “go to him.” But I want reflection! I want Steve to apologize to Jonathan about what he said in the alleyway. I want Steve to say “I think because you were my first real love, I’ll always love you a little” and leave it at that. I want them to get on the same page and re start as friends, and let it be slow if anything at all. Just frustrating in advance knowing it’s going to feel rushed and out of character and like 2.5 seasons didn’t matter. I dread that Robin and Dustin will matter less to Steve. I dread that Jonathan’s character will be essentially forgotten or ignored again. I dread that Argyle will be meaningless comic relief. I dread that Steve and Jonathan won’t have their own arc. I dread that Nancy will be reduced. Ugh.

[miyasturniolo]

FORTNITE | chris sturniolo

pairing: bf!chris x f!reader

summary: you have been watching chris play fortnite for most of the evening, but you were bored scrolling through social media and he wasn't paying much attention to you. so you found a way to get him to notice you.

warning: smut, sub!chris, use of y/n, swearing, p in v, unprotected sex, pet names (baby, ma, darling), blow job, slightly teasing, mommy kink, mention of blood, ass grabbing, cockwarming.

a/n: not my photos, on pinterest. this one is kinda similar to lipstick marks. I hate the new season of fortnite, wbu?

WORDS: 2.8k

miyasturniolo on wattpad

you - pink | chris - orange | matt - blue

-

You were sitting on his bed, scrolling through social media while he played Fortnite with his brother, Matt. You could hear them both speaking to each other through their mics, but Chris's voice was clearer since he was in the room with you, while you can only hear Matt's voice through the mic when he shouted.

The sound of keyboard clicking filled the quiet room as he focused on building and shooting his opponent.

"52," Chris exclaimed louder than necessary, prompting you to glance up from your phone to see that he had hit the opponent.

You observed Chris and his game, noticing his intense focus, while catching a whiff of his invigorating savage cologne from across the room, which made your knees weak.

"Touch grass, you fucking kid!" Chris grumbled after being knocked down by the opponent, leaving Matt to take over.

“Calm down, young man” Matt said after Chris spoke, making him just roll his eyes.

You chuckled quietly, shaking your head and rolling your eyes with a slight smile, finding it funny when Chris’s rages since he comes up with something random.

He didn’t hear your chuckle or anything because he had his mic on. As he watched himself lose two health points every second after being knocked down, he soon perished, eliciting a groan as he realized he had lost all his items.

You observed Chris remove his mic and put it back on once his hair was away from his face. He then turned to you and muted himself to avoid Matt thinking he was addressing him.

"Are you okay ma?" he inquired, eyeing you wearing his shirt with your own pajama shorts. You nodded, unsure whether to speak since he was still muted and you couldn't see him unmute.

He smiled, turned back to his gaming chair, and resumed speaking into the mic. "Could you grab my sniper since you have a free inventory slot?" Chris asked Matt. “Will do”

As the gaming session continued, it eventually reached 1 am. You found yourself bored and craving Chris's attention, but he only glanced at you briefly whenever he died without saying anything.

You place your phone on the bedside and sat up instead of laying down on the bed. You couldn't help but approach him and hug him from behind.

He gasped slightly when you startled him, but his heart rate returned to normal once he realized it was you. "Hello," he mouthed as he continued talking to his brother on the mic. “Hey,” you smiled and ran your hand along his shoulder, feeling the warmth compared to your own hands.

He leaned back in his gaming chair, still engrossed in playing Fortnite. You couldn't resist trailing your fingers along the veins in his arm and not hands since he used his hands for gaming.

"You seem to have a thing for my hands," Chris remarked, making you smile before pausing. Matthew fake gagged, already aware that you were with him, anticipating Chris's flirtatious nature. "No, please, save the flirting for later," Matt chimed in on the mic, his voice audible as you were close by.

"Oh, shut it," Chris said with a small eye roll. You stopped tracing the veins on his arms and just looked at him in amusement. His hands clicked on the keyboard as he focused on shooting a player in the game.

You kept staring at his hands, the PC, and then back at the screen. He continued chatting with Matt until there were only 20 people left.

"The fuck?!" Your boyfriend, Chris, shouted as he was suddenly sniped out of nowhere. Matt tried to build and revive him, but his structures kept getting knocked down.

Chris seemed a bit irritated but didn't do anything. You looked at him again, and he met your gaze. The stress in his eyes softened a bit when he saw you. "Stressed, huh?" you said to Chris, and he nodded with a faint smile.

You brushed his hair out of his face, tucking a few strands behind his ear. He watched you before taking off his mic, readjusting it like a headband again, and putting it back on. “Goofy hairline” you tease making him squint his eyes at you before shaking his head.

He looked at you once more before watching the screen in disbelief as his character perished, with approximately 260 seconds left to get his reboot. Letting out a sigh, he grumbled as he lost his loot once again, although he understood it wasn't Matt's fault.

In the background, Matt discussed the damage he inflicted on the opponent who had taken down Chris.

"Do you trust me?" you whispered, catching Chris off guard with the unexpected question, even though deep down he knew he did. "What?" he muttered before confirming, "Yeah, I trust you..."

A smile played on your lips as you noticed the confusion on his face. Moving closer, you positioned yourself between his legs, causing his heart to quicken its pace, especially when he noticed you pulling your hair up.

Unaware that his mic was still on, Chris whispered urgently, "Y/n... come on."

Although he realized he was still audible, he spoke softly, ensuring Matt wouldn't overhear. "Y/n, I swear," he murmured, reluctantly allowing you to remove his shorts, revealing his half-erect cock in his boxers.

He glanced down at you, biting his lip to stifle any sound as the cold air sent a shiver through his excited member.

"Are you going to say something?" You teased Chris as he was on mic with his brother, causing him to press his lips together before speaking.

"What was that? I was fixing my hea—" Chris was interrupted as you began to pleasure him with kitty licking his tip, causing him to grow harder and struggle to remain quiet.

"I said I'm going to the lavish lair to reboot you," Matt announced, but Chris simply hummed, his attention fixed on you and your hands.

"That's right, baby," Chris murmured, prompting Matt to inquire about his comment, but Chris brushed it off, focusing on you instead.

You increased your pace, then took him into your mouth, eliciting a wide-eyed reaction from him as he covered his mouth in a futile attempt to muffle his pleasure. The sensation of your mouth around him brought him to the brink of ecstasy.

He squeezed his eyes shut, desperately trying to remain silent for Matt's sake. "D-do you really have to reboot me?" Chris stammered out.

"I'm not suffering alone in a top 5," Matt says as he goes to reboot Chris. He breathes quietly, more in pleasure from the sensation of receiving oral pleasure.

He watches Chris get rebooted, not wanting to play but seeking only pleasure, planning to then engage in intercourse until Chris forgets his own name.

Chris places his hands on the keyboard to resume playing, as you had instructed him to do, but his hands are shaky as he feels himself nearing climax.

"I found a legendary assault rifle for you," Matt announces over the mic, to which Chris expresses gratitude. Chris lets out a slight whimper and looks down at you.

It's evident that he is struggling to keep the fact that he is receiving oral sex from you a secret from his brother. Your tongue swirls around his tip, making his legs tremble slightly as he tries to focus on the game.

"The storm is closing in, it will take five health," Matt informs Chris, who simply hums in response without daring to speak, especially when on the brink of climax.

As Chris continues to play, you gently massage his thighs while pleasuring him. He can't help but moan, a sound that Matt overhears.

“You just moan?" Matt asked, but Chris quickly denied it before another moan escaped. He gave you a warning glance, indicating he was close, although you could already tell by how many times he twitched in your mouth.

Closing his eyes, Chris bit his lip, which bore the marks of his attempts to silence himself. His hands trembled as he grabbed your messy ponytail, making you gag on his member. He was confident that Matt hadn't heard anything, so he made you gag on him once more.

"Can I cum, please, mommy?" Chris murmured, gazing at you, desiring permission to release in your throat, finding it incredibly arousing.

He took a risk by uttering those words, as he had forgotten to mute himself. When you hummed, the vibrations widened his eyes as he came deeply down your throat.

His muscles tensed, and he bit his lip harder, feeling the intensity of his orgasm. In the game, he went afk, needing to muffle his moans once more.

You smirked and licked the veins on his shaft, savoring every last drop of his essence.

You lean back to gaze at him, noticing his vulnerability and weakness in that moment. He was breathing heavily as he tried to catch his breath, still feeling the lingering sensation of your mouth on him even though you had stopped.

Matt asked about his heavy breathing, but Chris simply placed his headset down, forgetting to mute himself.

"You're so beautiful darling," he whispered to you, gently wiping his release off your chin, causing your cheeks to flush as he chuckled.

No longer aroused, Chris shifted slightly so you were no longer between his legs. He lifted you onto his lap, ensuring you weren't causing him discomfort since he wasn't wearing any underwear, but neither of you minded.

"CHRIS!" Matt's voice boomed through the headset, causing both of you to glance at it. Chris let out a slight groan, then put his headset back on. "What?" he responded.

"We're in the top two, I need your help or we'll lose this game. I care about y/n and you, but please just assist me for now, and then you two can resume your playful, cheesy banter," Matt suggested.

Chris adjusted his position, ensuring you were more comfortable on his lap before diving back into the game, which seemed to stretch on forever for him.

"They're over there," Chris announced over the mic, using your head as a makeshift headrest, though you didn't mind. You observed him play alongside Matt, eagerly pursuing an opponent who was attempting to escape.

"Quick, oh my god!" Chris exclaimed as he and Matt gave chase. Matt managed to weaken the opponent significantly, exclaiming, "He's one hit!" Matt said so loudly that his voice carried upstairs to where you were in Chris's room.

In a triumphant moment, Chris landed a headshot with a sniper, prompting him to win the game and smile. "Headshot as well," he declared before embracing you and planting a kiss on your head.

You gazed up at him as he met your eyes, his hand resting on your thigh while you sat on his lap. Despite looking at you, he couldn't resist the desire to be intimate with you or have you ride him until he was overwhelmed with pleasure.

"Matt, I'm going to leave," Chris abruptly announced without saying goodbye. He shut off his computer, then kissed your lips and playfully squeezed your ass while you remained on his lap.

"You're so lucky I love you or else I would be pissed at you, pleasuring me while I'm gaming with my brother," he remarked with a chuckle, before engaging in another passionate kiss with you.

He let out a soft moan before breaking away to gaze at you. "I need you, make love to me until I forget my own name, please, mommy," he pleaded.

You smirked, brushing his hair away from his face, causing him to groan. Feeling his arousal grow beneath you as you sat on his lap, with him only clad in a shirt, you whispered, "Do you want to be taken by mommy, hmm?"

He nodded, his eyes pleading as he kissed your neck, attempting to arouse you in order for you to fulfill his desires. "Please, mommy."

The expression on his face revealed his desire for you, as you locked eyes with his captivating blue gaze, betraying his vulnerability because all he craved was you.

You removed your shirt, revealing your bare chest, catching him off guard as he bit his lip in surprise, but refrained from any complaints. “Holy shit ma," he murmured, fixated on your breasts.

You playfully nibbled on his neck, eliciting soft whimpers of pleasure from him, marking your territory as he embraced you by the hips, undressing you further until both of you stood naked, except for his shirt.

"I belong to you, mommy," he declared, his gaze fixed on you as you withdrew from his neck, leaving behind deep purple marks that would be difficult to conceal even with makeup. "Good boy," you commended.

His desire for physical contact intensified, particularly as your skin grazed teasingly against his sensitive areas.

You removed his shirt with his permission, both eager to consummate your passion as he eagerly surrendered to your lead, yearning for the moment when you would be one, lost in each other's touch until all rational thought faded away.

He struggled to control himself, placing his trembling hands on your hips as he positioned himself between your legs. His desire was solely for you, no one else but you.

As he entered you, a deep moan escaped his lips and he leaned back, resting his head on the gaming chair. You bit your lip in an attempt to stifle your own moans as he stretched you with his considerable size.

"fuck," you whispered to yourself, fighting the urge to cry out in pleasure mixed with a bit of pain as you adjusted to his size.

"You're so good to me, mommy. Your pussy was made for me, I swear," Chris whispered, gazing into your eyes before closing his own as you began to move.

His large hands firmly gripped your waist, urging you to quicken the pace, his movements expertly hitting your sweet spot, eliciting more moans of pleasure from you.

Despite his lips showing signs of strain from his nervous biting, he let out a loud moan as you both reached a peak of pleasure and perfect synchronization.

He paid no mind to the possibility of his brothers hearing him, his focus solely on you and the intense connection between your bodies.

"Mommy," he whimpered, his blue eyes fixed on you in disbelief at the overwhelming pleasure. Despite his usual dominance, the way you made love to him drove him to the brink of madness.

As you continued, he found himself unable to decide where to touch you - whether to hold onto your hips, waist, breasts, or thighs - as his mind was clouded by ecstasy.

His climax was building, but he knew yours had not yet arrived. Despite struggling to contain himself, he couldn't hold back any longer.

"Can I cum, please, mommy?" he pleaded loudly when he felt your walls tightening around him.

You bit your lip, nodding as you quickened the pace. He closed his eyes tightly, gripping the handle of his gaming chair as he released inside you.

You reached your peak with him, your essence mingling and dripping onto the chair as Chris tried to catch his breath from his release.

"Fuck... mommy," he muttered, still breathless. He caressed your cheek, both of you still recovering. "Darling...?" he hesitated.

You nodded but avoided his gaze, intending to stand up from his lap. However, he gently whined and persuaded you to remain seated, still connected to him.

He tenderly lifted your chin to meet his gaze, and as you did, he smiled and kissed your lips. "I love you, baby," he whispered.

"I love you too," you replied, brushing his sweaty hair away from his face, while he was captivated by your eyes in that moment.

A brief silence passed between you before he hesitated and considered asking you a question.

"Can we cockwarm?" he inquired, gazing at you with puppy eyes. You were willing, but mindful of the need to clean up. "Now?" you questioned.

He nodded and embraced you, knowing your preference for aftercare, yet pleading he speaks innocently, "Please, darling?" with a furrowed brow.

You rolled your eyes but relented, agreeing to his request before embracing him. "Only for a few minutes," you stated, and though he didn't promise, you both understood that he would likely prolong the aftercare session.

[lanawinterscigarettes]

Unchaperoned (Anthony Bridgerton x gn reader)

Summary: the Duke and Daphne are the focus point of the most recent ball, which gives you and Anthony the perfect opportunity to slip away together

Warnings: mentions of drinking, somewhat rough makeout session (scandalous, I know), suggestiveness/implied offscreen smut, Anthony and the reader being alone together is treated as a big no-no but since it's gender neutral it's up to you to decide if this is because the reader is a lady who lost her virtue or if the reader is instead another gentleman who's inappropriately consorting with a Bridgerton son

A/N: I started watching Bridgerton recently out of curiosity and sure enough became quickly obsessed. this fic is set during season one when daphne and simon were pretending to be courting one another

Daphne Bridgerton was considered to be the diamond of the season according to the very queen herself, which made her prime courtship material. If her eldest brother would stop getting in the way, that is.

Nearly every suitor had been scared off by that point, and the only ones that hadn't been were certainly less than desirable. Not that it mattered much, as a certain Duke of Hastings had seemingly caught her eye.

Anthony Bridgerton, head of the Bridgerton household, scowled as he observed the two of them from the corner of the ballroom. He barely noticed you approaching, cocktail glass in hand.

"Lord Bridgerton," you formally greeted, chuckling in amusement at the eye roll he gave you. There was really no need for you to address him so properly, as you had been friends for years: you just liked getting on his nerves. "Having fun?"

You did your best not to laugh at the incoherent grumbling he replied with, making it clear that the answer was a no.

"I see your sister and the Duke have quite taken to each other," you noted while moving closer to him, watching as they swept across the dance floor.

He let out a scoff of disbelief at your words. "Hastings should have very well known that she is off limits. He's nothing but a rake, he'll never truly care for her."

You let out a soft hum in agreement as you took a sip of your drink. "Still, it's nice to see them so happy. And with him watching her, she doesn't need a chaperone." You added the last bit in a much lower voice for only Anthony to hear.

It was difficult to miss the way he seemed to perk up at your words, his grumpy demeanor disappearing right before your very eyes. "What exactly are you trying to suggest?" He asked in a curious whisper, doing his best to remain stoic despite the way his mind was already starting to race with the possibilities.

The corners of your lips curled upwards into a sly smirk. "Perhaps I should just show you what I mean."

A loud thud echoed throughout the small guest room the two of you had snuck into as you pushed him up against the wall, his face covered with a giddy grin at the action. Anthony let out a muffled moan of delight when your lips met his, allowing himself to let go of the stress that had been building up in him over the past few days as he melted into your touch.

"It seems as though perhaps we were the ones who needed a chaperone more than Daphne did," you commented with a smug smirk, visibly pleased with yourself for being able to unravel the eldest Bridgerton so quickly.

He groaned when you pulled your lips away from his, his desperate nature making him unable to handle even the slightest bit of teasing. "Hush, you," was all he managed to mutter before pulling you back in for another needy kiss.

When the two of you returned to the ball later, he was much calmer and a lot less tense than before, a look of content on his face rather than his almost constant gaze of disapproval.

"I see my brother appears to be much more agreeable now than he was earlier," Daphne said when she took a break from dancing with the Duke to have a drink. "I don't suppose you had anything to do with that?"

"I may have played a small part in helping him to unwind a bit," was your casual reply, choosing not to elaborate any further than that as you watched him chat with his mother from across the room. His face flushed slightly when his gaze met yours, and you could practically hear Lady Bridgerton's concerned tone ask him if he was feeling alright.

You couldn't help but think yet again about how ironic it was that out of the two of them, the Viscount evidently needed a chaperone a lot more than his younger sister did.

End notes: god I'm such a whore for this man I swear

Likes < reblogs | comments are greatly appreciated | requests are currently open

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[llannasvsp]

ninjago dragons rising pt 2 spoilers

Cole in Dragons Rising just makes me feel so many emotions. Cole ending up in the Land of Lost Things just... makes so much sense?? In a heartbreaking, "oh gosh I'm in emotional turmoil" kind of way. As I've mentioned before, Cole has always struggled with feeling like he wasn't good enough. Like he would be forgotten. Like he has been forgotten. And what ends up in the Land of Lost Things? People and objects that have been forgotten.

Dragons Rising is doing a phenomenal job of addressing trauma that has kind of gone under the radar. Kai losing Nya, Zane having an identity crisis, and Cole being forgotten.

I've talked about Cole and his trauma a lot, but this season really feels like it's drawing attention to it. It's not "convenience" that he ended up where he is. They put him there to dial in on that key factor in his life. Cole is afraid of being forgotten and alone. And this is why Geo is such a good addition to the show. Whether you ship them, or see them as brothers, Cole might have actually spiraled if he Geo had not been there. They were there to support each other when they needed each other most. Much like how Frohicky was there for Zane.

Dragons Rising is just... it's so good guys, and if you're not watching it, I will beg you on my hands and knees to watch it. It's absolutely spectacular.

[celtigxr]

The Pink Dread (Master List) - - - - - ch. ii : Familiar Strangers

Chapter Summary: The King and his family greet and welcome their guests of honour in the Throne Room, but someone is a bit late.

Word count: 3217

Sneak Peak: “My brother isn’t very competitive,” Aegon came to his side, the back of his hand hitting Aemond’s shoulder in jest before folding it in front of him. “Though, mayhaps that will change this season, eh, brother?” Aemond had to turn his head to glare at Aegon, “If you are competing, dear brother, mayhaps I will.”  Aegon’s grin never faltered. That infuriating grin that haunts Aemond’s every insecurity was like the smile of a great white shark that approached its prey.  Aegon extended his hand in front of them, “You remember Valeana—"

Warnings: Fatph0bic remarks.

T H E   R E D S

⫘⫘⫘⫘⫘⫘⫘⫘⫘⫘⫘⫘⫘⫘

The Throne Room was just as Val remembered, though smaller. She had memories of towering ceilings, and a throne sitting on a mountain of swords, but perhaps that was a fever dream. The Iron Throne was still intimidating beyond all sense, with its sharp edges threatening to slice anyone who dare sit on it. Then there was the garden of swords that were smelted onto the ground around it. It made King Viserys a lot more frightening than he actually was. 

When the Celtigars entered the Throne Room, it was led by Bartimos, his lady wife on his left, and Clement on his right. The three daughters and Arthor walked behind until they approached dais, where the four of them flanked their sides. The entire family all fell into a deep bow and curtsey before the King and one half of his family. 

“Your Grace, we are filled with humility and privilege at your most honourable invitation,” Lord Bartimos spoke, his voice professional, courteous, as if he was not addressing an old friend. His eyes, however, were filled with nostalgia and conflict. 

“Bartimos Celtigar!” The King sat up from the Throne, mouth in a wide smile, hand extended while his other used his cane to step down closer to the family. “Aren’t you a sight for sore eyes.” 

Valaena turned to watch the exchange between her father and the King. She stood at the far right, after Arthor who stood next to Clement. Her eyes briefly roamed over the room, glancing at the green queen and her Hightower-Targaryen children. Well, two of them. 

The corner of Bartimos’ mouth twitched, his face fighting to remain stoic and regal, but his nature was desperate to be familiar, as he once was with Viserys. There was so much tension in the room, that the rusted swords of the Throne cut through it. Valeana tried to keep her eyes trained onto the King, but she found herself glancing back at the fair-haired prince and princess, and noting that he wasn’t there. 

Then Aegon glanced at her, and she pulled her gaze back onto the King. 

“You look well, your Grace,” Bartimos’s eyes darted down and back up, “You’ve gotten…”

Viserys lifted his chin and eyebrows, the corners of his smile twitching upward, “...fat?”

“I was going to say you’ve gotten your hair back.” 

“Wish I could say the same for you.”

The two men stared at each before breaking into a fit of laughter. The tension was lifted. Shoulders loosened, muscles relaxed, and breath was released from lungs.

After embracing in the way men do, King Viserys went down the line of each Celtigar, beginning with Lady Ursula, and then moving onto Clement, the heir, who Viserys had not seen since he was an infant. 

“Gods, you are a giant,” Viserys clapped his shoulder. “The Blood of Old Valyria runs strong in you, my boy, I can see it. It’s like staring into the face of the Conqueror.”

“My Lady Floris, you have grown into a fine young woman. The spitting image of your beautiful mother.” 

“And do my eyes deceive me, or is this little Shyla? Gods, I remember when you were just a little thing, dancing around my corridors like a butterfly.”

“Ah, you must be Arthor. You were just a babe last time we met, but I’d recognize those large brown eyes anywhere. I always knew you would become a strapping lad – you remind me of your grandsire, Lord Frey. He had a strong jaw like yours.” 

When his lilac eyes landed on Valeana, his features seemed to change. There was some confusion, and then a tinge of pain and regret, but not until after he put the pieces of the puzzle together. Not until he realized who he was staring at.

“Valeana,” he spoke her name as if he was reading an epitaph etched on a tomb. His four-fingered hands reached to cup her cheeks, thumb running just under her eye, “I see your mother in your eyes.” His voice was wistful as his hands moved from her face to her shoulders, “Your presence has made me a very happy man. And–” He looked over his shoulder, to his children, finding that his one-eyed son was still not in attendance. His mouth fell into a firm line as the words were lost into the wind. He turned back to Valeana with a rueful smile, “Well, let’s not get into it now. I am sure you are all tired from your journey– you’ll be staying in your old apartments. I hope you’ll find yourself at home as you all once had in the past.” 

Before the Celtigars were led through the familiar route to Maegor’s Holdfast, there were brief, albeit awkward, greetings with Queen Alicent and her two eldest children. They made no mention of Aemond’s absence, though Val preferred it and would have thanked them for it if it was appropriate. She politely stood between her two brothers, silent, demure and polite. 

The Targaryens, who were once a second family to her, were now strangers in front of her. 

The King, Queen, and the Lord and Lady Celtigar went on up ahead, catching up on years lost, and left the youth to their own devices in the corridor. 

“It is good to see you again, Lady Valaena,” Heleana’s gentle voice reached her ears for the first time in ten years. She had memories of the princess sitting on the floor, examining bugs, or spending hours with Val embroidering. Helaena was not like her brothers or nephews; as children she lived in her own world, preferring the company of insects than to people. Val did not understand why until the day she preferred the company of stray cats and mice over people.

“It is a gift you’re still with us,” The princess added, and her choice of words felt intentional. They held meaning, they held knowing, and Val wondered what exactly she knew about what happened to her when she returned to Claw Isle.

Valeana’s mouth hung open, a complete loss of words for a moment. Licking her bottom lip, which felt dry, she gave the princess a small smile and a nod of her head, “I am glad to have reunited with you, my Princess.”

Aegon’s voice caught their attention; he stood nearby, having given obligatory greetings to each member, though his demeanor was blasé until he got to Shyla. His eyes sparkled with the shameless playfulness that Valeana remembered him for. 

“Lady Shyla Celtigar,” he took the youngest sister’s hand and gave a kiss on her knuckles. Her cheeks bloomed roses, her eyes looked up at him like glittery topaz gems under the light of the sun. “You’ve grown to be the very image of the Maiden. I do not know who to thank more, your mother or your father.”

“Oh Seven Hells,” Val could not help the words from falling from her lips. She knew her sister, she knew how easily her heart sways, and the look Shyla was giving Aegon when he turned to look at Valaena was the same way a hungry cat would look at a fat pigeon.

Aegon regarded her like an old toy he was nostalgic over. Odd, considering he held no love for her, if anything he was the bane of her existence. While Aemond’s cruelty was from betrayal, Aegon’s was more blatant, brazen and frequent. 

He stepped closer to her, hands pulled behind his back, “Don’t think I’ve forgotten about you, Little Val. Looking very little indeed.”

Val pursed her lips and lifted her chin in an attempt to level her eyes with his. “And how can I forget you, my Prince.”

“So formal,” he tutted, “We were friends once, remember?”

Val furrowed her brow, “No we weren’t.” 

“Valeana,” Floris hissed, overhearing the conversation. She immediately turned to the prince, “Forgive her impertinence, my Prince. She has forgotten herself after all these years. Her injury forced her into isolation for such a long time– politeness and etiquette are lost to her now.”

“Oh, what a tragedy,” Aegon’s sarcasm wasn’t well disguised.

“You can thank your brother for that,” Val’s tone was dry in her jest. She had forgotten whose company she was in. Her siblings' eyes were on her as if she had just committed treason, but Aegon’s smile reached his eyes before he barked out a laugh. 

“Why don’t you thank him yourself?” His violet gaze looked over Val’s shoulder, and that was when she felt an icepick go down her spine. 

T H E  G R E E N S 

⫘⫘⫘⫘⫘⫘⫘⫘⫘⫘⫘⫘⫘⫘

When Ser Arryk (or Erryk, he can never tell which) had found him, drowning in his cups with a maid on his knee, with clear instruction from his father to meet the family in the Throne Room to greet the Celtigars, Aegon very nearly did the opposite. He thought of fleeing the castle, into the bowels of the Street of Silk, never to be seen until this Royal Conclave farce was over with. He was already betrothed to his sister (as far as he was aware), and should have long ago wedded and bedded her, siring silver-haired and purple-eyed Valyrian children, but King Viserys would not see it happen. With his health improving, his mind became less weak to the influence of Aegon’s mother and grandsire. 

Viserys had his heir, and many grandchildren to inherit the crown and throne. Unlike what his mother wishes, what Otto Hightower alludes to, Aegon will never inherit the crown. He did not wish to… He had no taste for duty. However, if marriage to a noble lady of the realm was the extent of his duty, then all he asks is for her to be nice on the eyes. He supposed Helaena was attractive, but when he looked at her, he did not see anything other than his strange sister. He had no desire for her. 

However, when the King had announced that the Celtigars would be one of two guests of honour at the Keep, Aegon had an unsettling realization that Viserys may have intentions to marry him to one of the Celtigar daughters. A shudder went down his spine at the thought. Perhaps Helaena would be the better option.

He was old enough to remember when they left King’s Landing, his memory far more crystal clear than any of his nephews or siblings who were younger at the time. The Celtigar sisters were not pleasant creatures. The eldest, the Grafton girl, reminded him of one of those preying-something bugs with large eyes that his sister carries in tiny cages. The youngest one had no eyebrows, giving her a massive forehead, and the third… Well, she was fat.

 Aegon remembered her to be so robust that some thresholds were far too narrow for her to go through without her sides brushing each side. He even remembered the sight of her taking a fall down the stone stairs and how he couldn’t look away; it was horrifying, seeing the rolls of her thighs ripple as they flew over her head, flashing what might have been her twat, Aegon wasn’t sure. But it was also hilarious – of all fifteen seconds before he heard the snap. Then it went back to horrifying. 

There was little news of what happened to little Val after that. Last thing he heard was that, despite the Grand Maester righting her leg back into position, she was still incapable of walking, and guards had to bring her around on a litter. Aegon doubted that her inability to move would have done anything for her size – so he fully expected to meet a whale on a settee when he entered the Throne Room. 

Aegon for once in his life, was glad he wasn’t getting lost in the Street of Silk. As he stood on the dias before the Iron Throne, he found himself a little bit excited. His hands were clasped behind his back in an attempt to hide his fidgeting fingers. Floris looked the same as he remembered, only older, more pinched faced, but tall. He was surprised how much Shyla grew into her appearance – eyebrowless and all, she still flowered well. Though Aegon found himself at a loss of words for the fair-haired sister, standing at the end of the line, next to her two brothers. 

Valeana Celtigar was still the shortest of her family, but she was no longer the most horizontal. Perhaps her breaking her leg was the best thing that could have ever happened to her. 

When she caught his eye and immediately looked away, Aegon couldn’t help but grin to himself. 

Oh Aemond, he bit his lip to stop himself from laughing. You fool. You poor, late, one-eyed fool.

“Why don’t you thank him yourself?”

The devil in which they talked about had finally arrived, his gait languid, unrushed like a billow of smoke. He had changed, as per his grandsire’s request when Otto intercepted him, which is why he had not made it on time. Though, truly, he was in no rush and had hoped that he would find them all gone by the time he got there. Yet Aemond caught their guests just as they exited the Throne Room, catching his brother’s eye over the shoulder of a fair-haired lass. 

“Thank me for what?” 

The faces that turned to him were familiar strangers. Clement, he hadn’t met, but knew of, and Aemond suspected the other lordling with the dark hair to be Arthor. He recognized Floris and Shyla immediately, since their most characteristic features had not dissipated with time. The young maid with the head of fair hair before him turned to him like a stone statue trying to move on its own. He did not recognize her at first, he did not regard her initially, not until viperous green eyes met a regal violet one. Aemond faltered, his eye widening from surprise. He immediately tried to cover up by relaxing the muscles in his face. 

Eyes that once looked up at him full of warmth and fondness, ones that would light up a room and a space in his chest whenever he had said something that made her laugh. The last time he saw those eyes, they were wide, glossy with fear and betrayal before they disappeared into the back of her head. 

Now they looked at him with something that set his hot Valyrian blood to ice. 

Indifference. 

“Prince Aemond,” Clement stepped to his sister’s side, then placed his shoulder in between the two. It was the only thing that pulled Aemond’s gaze off of her. When his eye was not on her, he was himself once more. “We didn’t see you in the Throne Room with your family.”

“A keen observation, Lord Clement,” Aemond tilted his chin up at the eldest. He found that he loathed having to look up at someone, least of all a Celtigar. “Nothing gets by you, I see.”

Clement’s tight lipped smile betrayed the boil of his blood, “Glad to see you still can.” 

“Hm,” Original. “Pardon my tardiness. I was in the middle of training when I received word of your house’s arrival.”

“I’ve heard you’re quite the swordsman, Prince Aemond,” Floris approached her step-brother’s side. Her long-fingered hand placed on his forearm, a way to calm those clenching fists. “Will we see you compete in the tourney?” 

Aemond’s eye flickered to her and then back at Clement, “I have thought of it.” 

“My brother isn’t very competitive,” Aegon came to his side, the back of his hand hitting Aemond’s shoulder in jest before folding it in front of him. “Though, mayhaps that will change this season, eh, brother?”

Aemond had to turn his head to glare at Aegon, “If you are competing, dear brother, mayhaps I will.” 

Aegon’s grin never faltered. That infuriating grin that haunts Aemond’s every insecurity was like the smile of a great white shark that approached its prey. 

Aegon extended his hand in front of them, “You remember Valeana— Where’d she go?”

Sometime in the midst of the tense interaction, Valeana Celtigar had slipped away. Aemond had been actively trying to pretend she was a part of the tapestries, lest he get caught in her viper pit of a gaze. Then his brother had to bring up her name; he had to bring up the elephant in the room, the reason why tensions were high and why Clement was trying to spear him with his glare alone. 

But she was not there. 

Even her own siblings were confused by her disappearance.

T H E   R E D S

⫘⫘⫘⫘⫘⫘⫘⫘⫘⫘⫘⫘⫘⫘

“Get away from me, you pig!”

It was a mistake for her to come. She knew this weeks ago, but her arms and legs were chained to duty, and Valeana had no choice but to let her father lead her into a den of dragons. It took all her will power to look at him, to keep her eyes trained to stare right through him, as if he was just another servant that filtered through the halls. If it weren’t for Clement stepping in front of her, she would’ve broken. Her eyes would’ve watered, forced to look away out of shame and fear. 

Valeana had thought her feelings for him were long gone, replaced with resentment and dislike, but she was quickly reminded of how much she used to love him. With her needle and thread, she spent years trying to sew back her heart, and with one look, one reminder of the colour of his eyes made those seams break. 

She heard of how he lost his eye, and at the time she found it truly fortuitous, until she found out what he had gained in exchange. Seeing it in person reminded Valeana of how she had yet to be repaid by the gods for what she lost. Aemond Targaryen did not pay for what he did to her, not truly.

These feelings came rushing back to her in those brief seconds, and Val needed to flee and collect herself. She took advantage of the discourse and the shield of her brother’s broad back, and slowly retreated until she was part of the shadows, where she shared a look with Arthor. Her half brother didn’t say anything when she rounded the corner, didn’t even regard her with concern or reprimand. 

Arthor Celtigar, the forgotten son, was so used to shadows, he had grown accustomed to being a spectator. He never lived in the Red Keep, and held no nostalgia over childhood friends he never had. He was only seven when his sister returned with a lame leg and a cloud of despair over her head. Being bound to Claw Isle while his father and sisters remained at King’s Landing had made him indifferent to his siblings, particularly his sisters. He was raised by a Frey mother, in the mighty shadow of his half-brother, Clement. Eventually, he became one with the shadows, like a spider in the corner that no one sees. 

But Helaena Targaryen saw him, and she saw his sister fly down the corridor like a bat out of a closet. 

He supposed that he would no longer be the only spider on the wall. 

Tag: @queen-of-elves

(if you want to be tagged for new chapters, just reply!)

Please do not re post, redistribute or plagiarize my work. The only other place this story is posted on is ao3 under the same username.

[toomanyopinionss]

My thoughts while watching

The Umbrella Academy (S4)

…HUH?!

ummmmm i’m sorry, what the ever loving FUCK did i just have the displeasure of watching?

spoilers btw, this is gonna be very raw and off the chest

i don’t know what to say, this was disappointment after disappointment. i don’t want to dog pile automatically though, so I’ll list out the very few things i liked about this season before i descend into madness:

The first two episodes. well paced and entertaining. although this could easily go on the bad list, cause they gave me false hope for this season.

nick offerman and megan mullally. ALWAYS a treat to see them on my screen.

Klaus’s relationship between Allison and Claire. very sweet.

a couple songs on the soundtrack

the fact that this season was short

i’m not joking that’s literally it. this was sooooo bad, i’m actually shocked.

let’s address the elephant in the room.

the character assassination of five needs to be studied

what the hell happened?! What happened to the guy that genuinely cared about his family? he didn’t abandon his family after FORTY some years in the future, and a jaunt to the past, but all of a sudden, he was ready to give up just like that??

his character this season was unfocused and lame. he looked bored half the time and unconcerned the other half. LUTHER felt more connected to this story than this mf did. remember when he murdered a room full of people? remembered when he kinda comforted klaus, or helped diego out, or had a heart to heart with viktor? this seasons five is like night and day from the old one.

and him and LILA?! barf

BARF. TOMATO TOMATO WHO ASKED FOR THIS?

i refuse to watch this sixty year old man in the body of a literal teenager poorly masquerading as a man get together with the wife of his brother, i won’t do it. the boy looks 18, come on are you fucking serious?!

oh but that’s not my only issue i ASSURE YOU

this season was a half baked, rush job to line netflix’s pockets.

and it could have been sooo good.

what do you mean, no one knows how ben died??

what do you mean the timelines are merging in on each other and people are noticing??

they completely dropped the ball off the face of the planet. this felt like a 10 page paper that was written in an hour. there’s soooo many plot holes, there’s no antagonist, nothing felt like it had meaning. nothing really mattered.

and speaking of not mattering, you know what completely breaks my heart? Ben.

i want someone to look me dead in my eyes and tell me that man was actually a legitimate character and not a plot device. ive never seen a character done so dirty in EVERY SINGLE SEASON ARE YOU JOKING? they never let his character breath. the only tear i shed this season was when he looked at viktor and cried, saying he was scared. that’s when i realized that the writers really don’t give a shit about him… they don’t care about his character arc, HE NEVER EVEN HAD ONE. it felt weird and disgusting.

i’m not gonna talk abt the end.

i’m done, i can’t do this anymore. i feel deceived. i feel like i wasted my time watching this series. the people behind the show clearly didn’t care about it, so why should I?

2/10, fuck this.

[darkstarofchaos]

Yet more EarthSpark S2 spoilers.

And now for some general thoughts about the season itself.

Where was Nightshade during all this? They are a main character, why did they not have so much as a subplot in another character's focus episode? People talk about Thrash getting sidelined, but he had a whole episode plus a paired episode with Twitch. Nightshade is barely there, and when they are, it's either a battle scene or sharing the scientific spotlight with Wheeljack.

Speaking of Thrash, I liked his episode. I would like to think finding a random Quintesson on earth and then shooting it into space will have repercussions later in the season, especially with the Quint lore in the final episode. But now that the Decepticons are just flat and evil, I might not even watch that far.

Why are the Decepticons interchangeable now? Starscream and Shockwave are the only ones allowed a personality beyond "smash stuff". And yes, I'm counting Breakdown in that, because he's a shadow of his former self, and the whole thing with him being a parent to Aftermath got dropped after five minutes. And you know, I might be giving Shockwave too much credit, because disagreeing with your leader on one course of action isn't a personality trait. And Starscream's ultimate goal is apparently just smash stuff. So you know what, I'll amend that, why do none of the Decepticons have a personality beyond smash stuff?

Like. Twitch ends up in the Decepticon base in the guise of Spitfire, and we don't get a single characterization moment. I guess the Cons all just stand and snarl at each other when they aren't on missions.

On the other hand, I don't understand why so many people were confused that the Decepticons were following Starscream, because why wouldn't they? He seems to have been doing a fine job, judging by the number of Emberstone shards the Cons had. I get that most Starscreams can't get support to save their lives (often through no fault of their own), but the Decepticons here seem to have no reason not to follow him.

Moving on from the Decepticons, I'd have to call the trailer episode and the carnival episode the worst of the lot. The whole subplot with Robbie having a crush was the most uncomfortable thing I've had to sit through in a while, and I would not voluntarily watch it again. And the trailer episode was just tedious. I get having something more relaxed in between the Spitfire two-parter and the finale, but couldn't they have found any other plot for it? People rag on the bear episode, but at least that had a nice little lesson about not messing with people's prostheses rolled in. This episode was just. Nothing. But it did come with a distinct lack of squicky "feeling your brother's crush through your psychic bond" stuff, so I'll give it that it's rewatchable.

Okay, this was a problem with S1 too, but that psychic bond has to go. It's creepy and invasive, and it's only going to get more so as the humans get older and start exploring adult relationships. At least give them some way to close it or otherwise shield themselves from it (it's also a constant plot hole, because characters often end up in danger that the others somehow don't notice. Like, is there a range on this psychic thing? How far apart do they have to be before they can't feel each other anymore? This thing is not explained well enough, and I don't see why it even needs to exist).

Assorted episode nitpicks:

That is not how you dispose of hard drives. Why did you not wipe them before recycling.

No food ever touches the plates on the dinner table in the Quintesson episode. I am unreasonably bothered by this.

How did none of the adults think to address Spitfire's insistence on being part of the mission by pointing out that Twitch is older and more experienced than her? Like, yeah, Spitfire probably wouldn't have cared, but someone should still have put their foot down and said she can't go on a mission until she's had some training.

Megatron, you are the only non-participant who can fly and the final stretch of that obstacle course was over a ravine. Why were you not in a position where you could quickly help out if someone fell? Twitch wouldn't have had to go back to save Alex herself and the whole thing with Spitfire being mad because she crossed the finish line first wouldn't have happened if you had positioned yourself more strategically.

Actually, Megatron proposed the race, Megatron wasn't close enough to be helpful during the race, and Megatron said they needed to let Twitch and Spitfire sort things out themselves, which resulted in Twitch getting bodyswapped. Every problem in this episode was Megatron's fault. Optimus, why are you not vetoing any of this? Why are you just standing there and letting Megatron pit kids against each other? You're a leader, do some leading!

On the other hand, Megatron wanting to resolve everything by letting the arguing parties fight it out is on brand for him, so like. Kudos for characterization, now get an adult in here.

[ladymorghul]

I think what annoys me the most about arguing Aegon is a victim of his marriage is they won’t extend that logic to anyone else. By that decree, Daemon was a victim; Viserys married him to Rhea to secure the Vale, and he was a teenager. In the main series, is Joffrey a victim when he’s betrothed to Sansa at 14? Maybe he was only abusing people because he was afraid to be with her. It’s a laughable take that refuses to acknowledge the sexism of Westeros and the way Helaena’s only purpose in this family is to have Aegon’s babies. Even young Aemond calls her “[Aegon’s] future queen.” That is what she is, for her entire life; she exists to secure his claim.

They want to say Aegon hates incest (a headcanon never suggested or substantiated in the show, he says he doesn’t want Helaena because “she’s an idiot” and they have nothing in common, not because she’s his sister). But then they also want to argue even though he hates incest, he loves his wife and has consensual sex with her. But only when he’s drunk, because the relationship is so traumatizing to them both. I can’t even put this blame on Tom, because all he said on it was “Aegon didn’t want to marry his sister, he didn’t want this life” which is what we see in the show! (I can blame him for the idea that Aegon, who fully deserts his remaining child with the man who twice tried to murder him, is a loving and caring father, but different discussion.)

This is long, it’s just so frustrating to see this concept passed around by people who either don’t want to think critically about AWOIAF and Westeros, or are misogynistic enough to believe Aegon was the victim here, and not Helaena. They didn’t even marry in the show at exceedingly young ages for Westeros; the twins are 4 in series 2, and Aegon is ~22. The script for 1.09 has Helaena at 20 and the twins I believe are just mentioned to be toddlers. But these are then the same people who spent two years saying Madam Sylvi raped and groomed Aemond, when Aegon would also be the abuser there. If they can acknowledge a 13 year old being taken to a brothel against his will is “problematic”, can they not realize who would be hurt in this marriage? The 16 year old forced to have her brother’s babies and do nothing else or the 18 year old who spends his time raping women and watching children fight each other? Nevermind that he again takes a young teenager to lose his virginity in this season. We aren’t meant to see him as a sex pest at all 🙄

yeah, you make a lot of good points here and unfortunately we have reached a point where we can't discuss the negative aspects of aegon without aegon stans jumping you because their love for aegon has blinded them to his faults and pushed out any critical discussion about his character.

and it's like they try to say "we know he's not good" but then they don't let anyone bring up any of his faults without getting piled on for being a "hater" as if any talk about the negative aspects of his character automatically means you hate his character.

and i definitely agree there's a lot of misogyny from some of his stans in addressing his position in relation to helaena and it's really sad people can't understand how they're not equals in the family or in the westerosi society.

as for tom.. i think it's a bit more nuanced. i believe that the writers were set on overkill for him (what we saw in s1 + not knowing valyrian + being asked to ride sunfyre like he doesn't know how, etc.) and there's likely things that he discussed with the writers that he thought were good for aegon's story that never translated to the screen, which happened with multiple actors on this show. OR not being fully aware of what the character was up to because they were given limited knowledge from the writers. we also have to remember that at the time of the promo tour, at least half of the season was still being edited. you never know if everything you've filmed will make it to the screen and there's times when actors shoot the same scene with different perspectives (kieran burton talked about how they had quite a few versions of the bracken blackwood scene including one where davos is crying which is so different than what we actually got to see on screen)

but yeah, i definitely agree that it's a problem and a lot of aegon stans are lashing out at anyone addressing these negative aspects of his character. and look it's fine to hate the writers' choices for him, there's definitely writing choices i genuinely dislike when it comes to aegon, but the truth is that whether you hate those choices or not they are show canon and people will address them.

[talk-it-out-outsiders-smp]

Things in my Outsiders Au that I think about too much

Rasbi's sister didn't die during the war. She dies after it's over. The danger has passed, and she wanted to get married she was ready to live her life. They're at a celebration of peace, and everyone must have been so relieved. The death and destruction are over. Then, the princess and future queen is slaughtered in front of them.

Is Will dead? We see Eden's body, but I don't believe we see Will, and while Apo thinks he's dead, what if he's not? He would be so relieved that Apo made it out, maybe he's imagining what happy life he's found. Until he catches sight of a TV one day and sees his little brother plastered up on the screens in a death game. How very heartbreaking that Apo ended up in the maze to avenge his brother and inadvertently forcing his brother to watch him almost die over and over.

Do people ever cosplay as the Outsiders? Has Oeca had to face some kid dressed like him, an eye patch covering their face to match the one that has cursed him so much.

Did Kyle have family? Siblings, parents, or friends who watched hoping to see him make it out alive? Did he have people he gushed about Acho to? Were they excited to meet the boy who their friend to love so much only to finally see him stepping out of the elevator and into the maze?

Were any of the Outsiders fans of the show before becoming victims of it?

Do Anygels siblings see her differently after her time in the maze? Do her parents? No longer a frightened and kind child but a hardened and trained warrior. Someone who had to fight to survive and made it out, different but the same. Her siblings probably only think higher of her, but are her parents ever afraid.

Guts is a war criminal as bad as Owen, and that should be addressed more because while Owen was forced into the maze, Guts chooses to go because they're so guilty about what they did.

Can you imagine Rasbi's mother and father watching her befriend her sisters murder? Becoming best friends with each other, baking together, and seeing her place her life in his hands.

Do Squidney and Mohwee have no one on the outside, is it better or worse to know that no one watched in horror as you struggled to survive?

What happened to Mr. Chestscribe? Did he watch the show? Was he close to Rasbi?

Would the show try to get Soups brother in the next season? This question extends to Ayngels siblings or any of their family or friends. Are they all marked now by Starr because they knew people in the show?

Actually, how much power does Starr actually have? What strings do they have to pull to get 'interesting' prisoners like Owen. Can anyone sign up like Rasbi? How legal was it essentially buying Graecie off her Father? How much glory do you get for going in and being successful that Anygels family would force her or her far younger siblings into the maze?

Of all the Outsiders, I think Graecie and Struggles most with being famous.

Oeca loses his eye, Bekyamon her leg, and Apo his horns in the maze, so do they get medical attention? What about the lesser injuries like Owen's injured leg or the fact that Graecie was in a coma? Or at most, do they just do something surface level so all the paparazzi wanting to snap pictures can get a good shot and leave the Outsiders to lick their wounds when they're not their problem anymore?

[quantifiableconnections]

I just finished watching Skam (Norway) today and let’s just say I’m not kidding when I say this is one of the BEST shows I’ve ever watched. I did take a lot of time to watch all the seasons (spanning over one year) but I enjoyed each and every moment of it. Well, some a little less than others. Hence, I have some thoughts and please forgive my yapping.

Okay so Season 1. I actually liked it quite a lot. The acting was good, and it gave a nice start to the whole story.

The getting together of the girls was the highlight obviously, but I really liked the portrayal of Eva in this, as a kind of lost teenager who doesn’t have a lot of direction in her life and is mostly dependent on her boyfriend.

I did think the Isak plot line in this was a little badly done, but I guess it was necessary for the big reveal in the end.

I think the fact that Eva was able to resolve things with Ingrid was very unrealistic, considering they had literally been besties and she basically stole her man. But really idk.

Talking about Jonas, he was majorly gaslighting Eva during the season so I think their relationship was a little immature. Classic right person wrong time.

Penetrator Chris is SO HOT. Especially in that mf smoky eye makeup istg. But he’s a giant asshole and we do not support him.

Season 2. Okay. First let’s start with the showstealer. Eskild my man. I don’t think Eskild is appreciated enough in the whole series but I absolutely love him!! He is so mature, and is such a good friend. I love the dynamic between him and Noora and even him and Linn.

Now let’s address the elephant in the room because why not? I did not like Noorhelm all that much. William never had much of a character development and we never get to see him expressing a lot of emotions. I forever stand by the opinion that Noora was too good for him. Many people talk about William’s support of Noora’s decision to not have sex, but really, that’s like settling for the bare minimum that can be expected from a decent person.

I think the dickhead of a brother had more personality than William. So in conclusion, season 2 did not really impress me but I’d watch it again for Eskild.

Eva hooking up with Chris?? The guy she cheated on her ex with? Can’t say I like this.

Season 3 is SO well done. There’s no question about it. I love Isak’s slow acceptance of his sexuality. From being a closeted gay guy who made homophobic comments to fit in, to a happy and out gay guy in a relationship.

Absolutely adore the boys. Jonas, Mahdi, Magnus. I especially loved Magnus and his take on the whole situation.

Eskild coming in and stealing the show yet again?!!

Emma and Sonja are VICTIMS. As much as I love Evak, they fucked their girlfriends over pretty bad and I hate them for it. Also, Emma is soooooooooo pretty.

The story of Even. His whole character portrayal. The picturisation of his mental issues. Chef’s kiss.

Minute by minute??? Are you trying to kill me here??? It is SO wholesome and they both have matured so much, especially Isak, dealing with his sexuality plus his boyfriend’s mental issues so delicately.

Their chemistry. Their chemistry. Their chemistry.

Sonja should NOT have apologised.

Overall, this season is tied with the fourth as my favourite.

Season 4. Sana is my favourite character hands down. She is portrayed so well, we see all her insecurities, beliefs so beautifully.

Yousana is my favourite couple. Evak is a close second.

The understanding between them, the intellectual conversations, the level of maturity. Just wondrous.

I did think the whole situation with the russ bus was overdone. I never really understood why Sana was so involved with it in the first place. This could easily have been summed up in one episode leaving time for more Yousana development.

Yousef is such a green flag omg. He’s literally the cutest out of all skam boys( my opinion). I just wish he had more screen time.

Elias and Sana??? Whatever bits and pieces we got to see of their relationship were GOLD.

I. Love. My. Girls. So. Much. I just wish Sana was shown interacting more with all of them, not just Noora. Also Yousef and Noora working together to thaw Sana??

I canNOT stress this enough. Yousef and Sana are the best couple ( besides Evak obviously). The chemistry, the flirting, everything was done so right that it got me blushing furiously through the screen. And they managed to do all this without showing any kind of physical contact. Just lovely. The way they counter each other’s opinions with such delicacy and respect makes me believe that they are definitely going to last.

The situation with Even and Mikael and all the balloon squad boys should have been given more screen time.

The way Sana’s faith and her relationship with her family were handled are commendable. We see the dilemma, the cogs of her brain working, and how she accepts her fate and doesn’t sway from her beliefs. I strongly believe that her and Yousef will handle their differences maturely and still come out to be a strong couple.

I SWEAR SHE AND I ARE SOULMATES?????? Cutest shit I’ve ever seen.

Sana and Isak’s friendship means so much to me. In Season 3, we see her rising above her opinions and respecting homosexuality. Here we see Isak figuring Sana out and helping her see beyond her strong opinions. And wdym Sana??? You are best buds.

Okay. The last episode. I absolutely loved it. It’s one of the best season finales I’ve ever watched. We go into the lives of all the girls and some of the guys too. I literally teared up at the Eskild and Linn part!!( idk why they still address Chris as penetrator Chris when his face is literally on the screen like people we know it’s not our girl?? Idk I find it extremely funny). I wish they had shown more of Vilde and Chris’ friendship in the past and not just the final episode. The Even part was absolutely incredible. His insecurities, his fears, and we see him pacifying Isak and not the other way around. Yousef texting Sana from Turkey?? And saying he’ll take her there?? My heart melted.

I literally don’t think Noorhelm is going to last long even though they have reconciled. Something just seems off. Joneva is back??? Didn’t really like the buildup but I guess they could be a good couple as they are more mature than the last time.

Okay. So that sums it up more or less. My favourite was season 4, closely followed by season 3. My favourite characters were Sana and Eskild, they were just so amazing. I related to Sana fiercely all through the show.

Thanks for coming to my ted talk. Feel free to give your own opinions please!!!!

[somejazzinthemorning]

tightrope. 06

Pairing: Carlos Sainz x Original Female Character Warnings: Language Word Count: ~8.1K Previous chapter: 05.

Again, the path to the airport was waiting for me. Bags packed at my feet and with them the unsettling feeling of not knowing what was reserved ahead. Seven days were the minimum we had agreed on. Ana had called me twice after dinner to make sure I was going and at the end of the second call, I was won over by her good persuasion tactics and handed her the victory. Hours later, she texted me the ticket.

I didn’t know what to expect. To be fair, I didn’t remember the last time I spent more than a couple of hours with the Sainzes. Time made the memories of summer and winter vacations vague, only smears of memories habiting in my mind — and the ones that remained more solid had a boy with big hazel eyes as the main character and nothing much more important happening in the background.

They were waiting for us at the airport in a disorganized semi-circle near the entrance. Carlos didn’t seem to be paying attention to the conversation his sisters and their boyfriends were engaged in. Rio pointed at them, not noticing my attention was already drawn to the small group standing ahead of us. My brother waved at Carlos and he waved back.

A black backpack rested on his back, which was covered by a white t-shirt. His hair was pulled back, being held by his sunglasses, keeping it from sliding over his forehead. I rested my gaze on his face and allowed myself a second to observe him. Everything about him reminded me of the last time we'd travelled together, especially his tired eyes, sunken in their sockets, beneath which were dim shadows.

The hollow sound of my footsteps and the ruck of the wheels on my suitcase filled my mind as I asked myself one single question — what am I getting myself into?

One week (or more if work allowed) with him and our friends. That was the premise. I kept repeating it in my mind. Just one week. See the sun rise from under the Mediterranean Sea and watch it set over the beach. Late nights in clubs and lazy lunches by the pool. Long dinners in the yacht, under the golden hue of the sunset.

Somewhat of a dream, but one where we would have to share ourselves with each other again. And I was afraid of the feelings it could spark. I had just told him I didn't trust him enough to be his friend, knowing damn well I wanted him on a deeper level than that.

The first thing that crossed my mind was that I shouldn’t be here, but my body, acting on a will of its own, started walking in his direction. He had his eyes on me but didn’t say or do anything until I reached the semi-circle.

“You came,” he said, not too loud, when I approached them. The rest of the group only became aware of our presence after Carlos’ intervention.

“I told you she was going to come, no?” Rio came forward and greeted Carlos with one of their handshakes and a fast hug. Marjorie kissed his cheek and Carlos politely asked her about our drive to the airport and mocked my brother for making Marjorie carry her bags. She didn’t let Carlos take them.

Trying to escape him, I walked over to Ana. She led the way to the boarding gate, making me accompany her while she told me about work and about a book I had recommended to her a couple of months ago. At each stage of the journey, the group met. The topics of conversation were diverse: football, movies, a new series that Marjorie had just started watching and was desperate to talk about – anything but the Formula 1 season that had just come to its halfway point and hadn't been very kind to Carlos. No one seemed to want to address the last race before the break, which had gone much worse than mine. Hungary had been bad. Austria had been much worse.

I couldn’t take the images of the flames and the heart-grutching radio from my mind. No matter what had happened since then.

“You need to see what we did with the place,” Blanca said when she caught up to me on our way to the boarding gate. “When was the last time you went there?”

“2020?” I was not totally sure. My memories seemed lost in time. “Perhaps 2019?”

Despite being a Monday in August, the airport was not too crowded. It was just after 10 am when we arrived at the boarding gate. Only a handful of people were standing in line to get on the plane. And everything felt normal. A group of old friends travelling. Nothing out of the ordinary.

“You’re too tense,” Ana commented, interrupting Blanca that was filling me up on a few changes they had done in their Mallorca house during the pandemic when they spent long periods there since it was hard (and not so safe) travel to other places. “Is it us or do you still hate flying?”

I knew that by “us” she meant Carlos. Things had gotten weird after our last talk at my mom’s party. It seemed like both of us changed from water to wine in minutes. Cold looks, an awkwardness every time we were forced to be together with the rest of the group. Perhaps that was what I was afraid of—not being able to simply be close, like a friend, without feeling all my feelings in the depths of my skin, turning it into goosebumps every time he looked at me. I looked back for a second, trying to get a glimpse of the group that was following us.

“Both, I think.”

Ana was the one with whom I had a stronger friendship. Blanca was a few years older than us; she had different interests and friends of her own, so it was only natural that I spent more time with Ana, especially growing up.

From the two families and friends, I believe she was the only one to understand how much I liked Carlos. Ana didn’t care when I visited her at their house and got distracted looking out the window to see Carlos playing football in the garden. She also never said anything about how I used to get completely jumbled up my words whenever he banged on her door to ask for small favours or to just mess with her.

She watched me slowly fall in love with her brother and then she watched us drift apart.

“He’s still the same, you know?” Ana got closer to me, taking advantage of the fact that Blanca stayed behind to wait for the rest of the group. “Maybe just got a bit more handsome now.”

I chuckled at her words and there was no time to answer as the group was fast to catch up to us. Carlos, who was leading the way, was the first to complain.

“You two are in a hurry.”

“A week into summer break and you have already lost your speed?” Ana replied, making the group react with a short laugh.

“Vacaciones son vacaciones,” he mumbled as he put an arm around her shoulders and dragged Ana with him. “Stop rushing. We have time to spare.”

“I wouldn’t need to rush if you didn’t—”

Carlos planted his hand over her sister’s hand, laughing at her. “We were the first to arrive here.”

“We have two babies!” Marjorie screamed from behind. “We have an excuse to be late.”

As we approached the boarding gate, my heart started to race. The plane was awaiting us at the other side of the bridge—I could see it through the window. I made my way over in silence, with a nervous smile on my face and ignored the anxiety making my head full of terrible thoughts and childish fears. The moment I stepped on the plane, I felt a rush taking over my heart. No matter how many times I’d flown before, every time was the same.

“Where are you sitting?” Carlos asked me, looking back as we crossed the hallway.

I checked the ticket on my phone and then looked at the numbers. Fifth row, middle seat. Awful. I mentally cursed Ana for booking that terrible seat for me.

“Right there," I said, pointing my head to the seats. “In the middle.”

“Do you prefer the window?”

“Where are you sitting?” I asked. He pointed with his head to the same row. Ana, behind Carlos, was grinning. Fair, I thought. She didn’t have to know about how… weird things were between us. Neither I wanted her to know. At his request, I handed him my luggage, which he stored next to his.

“You’re nervous, aren’t you?” I think his smile made the anxiety worse to bear.

I lowered myself into the window seat, shaking my head. “Of course not.”

“Good,” Carlos sat next to me. His arm rested on the armrest between us. “Close your eyes, then. Try to sleep.”

He put on one of his AirPods. It didn’t take long until Rio called for his name and he turned his back to me to answer my brother, sitting across from us. I looked outside the window. The moments until the take-off were torturous, but happily, Carlos was too distracted to notice my distress. To my surprise, the take-off was fairly smooth. As always, I tried to not look outside and failed miserably. I took a deep breath, looked ahead at the tops of the heads peaking out of the seats and just like that we were smooth sailing between the clouds. I closed my eyes. I could use a few minutes of sleep.

My heart thumped as the pilot’s voice crackled in the speakers and the plane shook slightly, and then a little more violently. I opened my eyes, my head hurting from being awakened that way, my pulse quickening and blood rushing in my ears. My hand rushed to the seat belt. It was tightened.

“Now you’re nervous, I imagine,” Carlos’ lips curled in a tiny smile and I rolled my eyes in response.

I grasped the armrest for dear life. My other palm pressed into my thighs. In my mind, a TikTok video about jello and planes was looping. It won’t fall. I kept reminding myself of that. Carlos’ fingertips brushed the back of my hand and he retracted them almost immediately. My breath caught. My heart clenched. Not particularly because of the turbulence.

“Maybe a little,” I didn’t take his hand but didn’t move mine, either. I looked down, at his fingers hovering above my hand. Then, I looked up. “Are you?”

Carlos shook his head; from the way he was forcing a line with his lips, I could tell he was making an effort to not snort at my question. “It will be okay,” he tried to reassure. “And I’m right here, in case you need me.”

I just nodded. My eyes were closed and my head was turned toward the window. I had experienced worse, but each time it was a little living nightmare. I heard a little laugh coming from the man seated at my side.

“Don’t laugh at me, Sainz,” I snapped at him, turning to him. He had his sunglasses on his head and he was not using his AirPods anymore.

“I won’t. It’s just— how many times have you—” I interrupted him by flipping him off. “I’ll stop. Are you okay?”

I let out a breath I didn’t know I was holding. Carlos laid his hand on top of my arm and brushed his thumb on my skin, so slowly that I had to look down for a second to be sure it was real. Once again, I nodded.

“It’s just that I hate these flying cages,” he let out a little laugh, again. I couldn’t hold mine.

“You are a racing driver, Eva,” there was a stupid smile on his face.

“Last time I checked, I don’t race aircraft ten thousand meters in the air.”

“But you can crash and get hurt…”

“My point prevails.” His smile kept growing, and at the same time, my grip on the armrest got looser. “Even if I crash, I won’t be crashing from this altitude.”

He shook his head, a big smile on his lips. From the pocket of his t-shirt, he took out his AirPods and handed me one. Then, he took his phone out of the pocket of his shorts.

“Sinatra?” I asked after he pressed play on the music. He nodded, as he relaxed his back and laid his head on the headrest.

“I thought you would like to hear this,” he looked at me, head against the headrest, his hair messy on the top of his head.

“That’s Life? I could use something more reassuring.”

His chest shook with laughter, “Will you ever get less weird?”

“You’re the one picking the music,” I fought back, raising my eyebrow.

“And you are the one that made me listen to this in the first place. Now you have to put up with it.” His eyes dropped to the phone and shortly after Fly Me To The Moon started playing.

“You’re so predictable, Sainz.”

“What?” He chuckled. “It’s a great song.”

“Is it, indeed,” at this point, both of us were laughing, and I was not sure why. “Is it just so you to play it right now. That sense of humour of yours…”

“Don’t complain. It always makes you smile,” he pointed at my lips. “See?”

But as I looked into his eyes—those brown eyes that always seemed to see right through me—I started to feel like maybe there was something more to Carlos Sainz than just a silly sense of humour, a love for Sinatra and the awful amount of bad feelings. There was something else behind his eyes that made me want to trust him, even though I had no reason to do so.

He grinned at me, a lazy, satisfied smile. None of us needed to say anything, but I think he gathered something from the smile my lips formed. It was so easy when we were alone. With the music sounding in my ear, making us dwell in the same frequency, I quickly forgot the things I had said to him a few days earlier. We hadn’t spoken since that moment at the party and even if we did, I really doubted it would be of any use, as there weren’t words I could say that would resolve the confusion meddling in my head.

So much was happening. So fast.

The past and the future crashed together and scattered debris everywhere, sending me into eternal dark spirals of thought which I couldn’t seem to get rid of.

It didn’t take long for him to fall asleep and for his thumb to stop brushing my skin. I wondered about the origin of the dark sockets under his eyes, of what had taken his sleep last night. Above them, the perfect line of his lashes and the relaxed brows grabbed my attention next. An expression of tranquillity. I forced myself to look away as if it was a sin to delight in such a view.

I tried to focus on the vast white that stretched below us towards the horizon, but the weight of his hand on my arm made it impossible to focus on anything but him. I looked down, taking in the sight of his hand resting on my arm, his fingers slightly apart.

The turbulence had long since passed, but he didn’t let go.

~

The weather in Mallorca was better than in Madrid. We left the airport in two cars, windows open and music blaring on the radio. Carlos drove and Rio followed with him in front. Marjorie tried to sing along with the music on the radio, forcing a Spanish accent that despite the years she'd lived in Spain, she still hadn't perfected.

The house was in a private village on the east of the island. I had been there and the route was not totally a blur from the last visits. It was usual to visit them here, especially during the summer holidays, when Rio and I were often invited by the Sainz to come and stay for a few days, with or without our parents. In our early adult years, Reyes and Carlos Sr. chose to stay in Madrid for the first few days, letting us enjoy the island alone.

“This place looks amazing!” Marjorie exclaimed when we parked the car. There was a good view of the sea and the house itself looked like a little paradise on the Mediterranean coast.

Carlos chuckled over her unfiltered enthusiasm and gave me a small pat on the shoulder as he walked past me to get the luggage out of the trunk. I went to help him as Rio took his wife on a short visit around the outside and the rest of the group hadn’t arrived yet.

The house was even more beautiful on the inside. I really needed to step out of my own reality and I realized that place was the right choice the second I looked at the view and absorbed the peaceful atmosphere being brought inside by the big windows, the amount of natural light, the furniture and its soft earthy tones.

“Better than you remember, no?” Carlos asked, proudly, with a smile reigning on his lips. “It’s all Ana and Blanca’s work, they did everything.”

Rio came inside with Marjorie shortly after. Meanwhile, I just walked around the lower floor, recollecting the floor plan that I realized I hadn’t forgotten. When I got back to the living room, the rest of the gang was already there. Blanca and her boyfriend, Guillermo, headed upstairs.

I was then taken by Ana on an official tour of the house. The office was near the living room and had a nice view of the pool and the sea, which I knew would make my work hours a lot harder than I wanted them to be. My room was upstairs, the second door on the left.

That first day was the most peaceful of the week we spent there. We didn’t leave the house. I can’t remember much, as the memories congealed into a cluster of laughter and slow-motion visions of jumps into the sea and tanned wet bodies resting under the sun. That night, Blanca cooked for us. We ate outside, surrounded by the tall trees around the house perimeter and the darkness of the night, which stopped us with ease from caring about the reality we left on the other side of the gate. Only a few memories remained from the dinner — the contour of people’s smiles, heads thrown back amongst the laughs, the taste of the sangria and how easy it was to fall asleep that night.

On the first morning, I went for a jog. For the first time in a while, I had all the time in the world and an unknown road ahead. And it might sound a bit too poetic, but the resemblance to my own life made me clear out some ideas and make a handful of promises to myself.

The roads unrolled themselves like a map once forgotten in time. At every turn, I would find a collage composed of new and old buildings, painted on unsaturated reds and oranges, as the sun was settling in the firmament. With it being so early in the morning, I couldn’t hear much more than the birds and the sea that lazily kissed the rocks of the coast.

When I stepped inside, the house was still enveloped in deep silence. It was early, not even 8 am. A shower, a quick breakfast and a morning behind the desk. That was the plan.

There was a shelf in the office.

A few racing helmets filled the spaces between the books. I was not counting on finding much memorabilia around here, since I expected it would be stored in their Madrid house or Carlos’ apartment in Milan, but there it was. Two of them were rally helmets, belongings of Carlos Sainz Sr. The other three were Carlos’. On the bottom stood one from his Toro Rosso era, in display on top of Adrian Newey’s How to Build a Car. On the top, a scaled version of one of Carlos’ Ferrari helmets. And in the centre, like it was put there to catch my attention, one of his McLaren helmets.

The beginning of the end.

I couldn’t help but take a step towards it and take a closer look. I took it in my hands. I could see my reflection in the chrome, wondering how many memories this house could wake up in me, how many pieces of us were scattered around the place. It had happened so slowly and so gradually that, looking back, I can't find a milestone from which to draw a before and an after. Maybe those two years were that point. There was a before, where no part of me imagined there wouldn't be an after. There was a during when there was still hope. Less and less, each day, but still there. And now there is an after, which we live desperately trying to elapse three and a half years.

I just needed to keep crossing the rope, head held high. One foot after the other.

As I sat on the desk, ready to get a start on the day, the front door opened. The silence of the house made it easy to hear the steps and the hum of a melody I didn’t recognize. I looked at the door I had left open. The sound of the steps got gradually louder, until a man passed by the office. Carlos, in his black shorts. No shirt — of course, no shirt. A fitness band around his chest.

Not resisting the forces that commanded me effortlessly, I looked over to the window to find him stepping down the stones that lead to the lower area of the garden. I watched him as he took his shoes off and took the fitness band off his torso. His sweaty skin glistened under the sun, his hair was already wet and messy. At his pace, he dove into the pool.

I tried to focus on the laptop’s loading screen, but my eyes kept travelling to the man floating in the water and back to the helmets in front of me.

The day flowed with ease and even when it invited me to take a dip in the warm waters of the Mediterranean, I resisted and didn't leave the office during the day. However, every corner of that house transported me into a limbo between joy and sorrow, which I didn't want to deal with, especially not while working. I tried to ignore all connections to the past and that amounted to ignoring Carlos, even though my eyes were looking for him every moment.

Fortunately, the house was big enough that we could live in our own universes without tripping over any of the lines we had silently agreed to. Our conversation at the end of the dinner party acted like an unspoken agreement and even if he broke it on the flight, we both seemed to forget about that interaction. We went back to the people we were before Mugello — the distant strangers whose paths crossed by chance and were forced to coexist.

Though I was happy about it, knowing how much I feared what the intimacy might trigger in me, I wondered what was making him keep his distance. Was he just being respectful or did the weight of my words create a barrier that no force could break down? Did he think I hated him? Or did he see what was going on inside my mind and decided he didn’t want to take part in it?

I could swear to God those eyes and the touch of his lips were capable of ridding my mind of any shackles and protective casings. All he needed to do was ask, looking deeply into my eyes, and I would tell him my truth. The one I’m ashamed to even admit to myself. That I’ve wanted him so much, for so long, that I’m afraid to make him see it, let alone feel it.

But he seemed happy in his world, where the only things that mattered were his friends, the sea and the sun. I, on the other hand, continued to be a hostage of my own thoughts.

When I left the office later that afternoon, I found the house invaded by a bunch of people whose faces I didn’t recognize. The kitchen was full of life and laughter. Blanca was talking to two blonde girls, Marjorie and Ana were outside talking to a couple. And Carlos… well, Carlos was being his best self, entertaining the crowd. As I approached them, sitting at the table, I realized they were talking about Formula 1.

I stopped a few meters from them, not wanting to intrude, but as I tried to find a way to go back inside and try to find my brother and use him as a shield to avoid unwanted social interactions, Carlos found me in the small crowd of people. With a motion of his head, he invited me to come closer and join the group and I walked over, Carlos found me a chair and dragged it to his side. There was no choice but to sit next to him at the edge of the table and face a dozen strangers staring at us; at least one of them, blonde and tall with a particular medal around his neck, was polite enough to grab me a beer. I found Rio sitting among the guests.

“—and so, when I was about to go on track, I told the guy: ‘I’m not going to be able to do a single flying lap with this’. He just looked at me and said: ‘You’ll be surprised, my man’. So I went out and did a 1’21”. Can you believe it? A 1’21” with a fucked up gearbox!”

“The poor man couldn’t believe his eyes,” my brother joined him. “We spent two hours around that thing trying to understand what happened. Chili, my whole career was changed by that broken gearbox.”

Everyone laughed until a german accent overlapped the sound. “And what was with the gearbox?” The beer guy was German. Noted.

“Turns out the guy who drove it before was so shitty he didn’t know how to drive that car.” My brother explained. “And that gearbox? Yeah, it was fucked, but good or bad? All the same for him.”

I took a sip of the beer, my eyes directed at the other edge of the table where the German guy was now getting up from. He was a rally driver, the same age as Carlos. That was all I could gather. But he was funny, and the accent was attractive and his smile? I saw him walking up to me, the conversation flowing in the background, my brother now telling a story about Silverstone and Carlos’ win. As I put the beer down on the table and turned to my left ready to welcome The Guy, I felt a hand on my right thigh. I turned to Carlos, who slowly leaned towards me, eyes glued to something, someone, behind me.

“Real plays tonight. I forgot to tell you I invited a few people to watch the match with us.” I just nodded. He was now looking at me, his hand was weighing on my thigh. I wondered if he was waiting for me to do something. To move away, maybe.

“Yeah, don’t worry about it. No problem.” And with that, he moved his hand away and leaned back on the chair.

When I turned to my left, The Guy was nowhere to be seen.

I looked around.

A few people. There were at least, twenty more people around the house, dispersed around the terrace. Half of them sitting with us at the table. Carlos paid attention to my brother for a few seconds before turning back to me again.

“You’re sure you don’t mind?”

“I don’t.” I paused and forced a smile; he frowned a bit. “Carlos. I don’t mind, really.”

“Good.” He grinned, the frown disappearing. That smile could disarm even the most trained soldier. “When I saw you getting here, I thought we disrupted your work.”

It’s not like I was able to pay any attention to it, I wanted to say.

“Nah, don’t worry. It’s all done for the day.”

Some tapas arrived from a bar nearby that Carlos had called in and the table was slowly taking shape. The small portions occupied every stop of the table, and in the small areas available, bottles of beer or wine were placed. A plate of Piquillo peppers, mozzarella and red peppers. A chip of garlic and a sliver of sheep cheese. The scent of garlic and olive oil filled the air, mixed with the aroma of grilled meat that Rodrigo prepared nearby.

When I sat down to eat, no one was already sitting in the places they were previously sitting at, although, Carlos stood in the chair by my side, back turned to me and facing his friends and the projection of the match on the wall ahead. The laughter became intense incoherent yelling, louder and the chink of silverware and the hissing of the burning wood, just some feet away.

Some of the people left the table while the game was still going on and took with them their plates and glasses of wine. The house was big, and so were the terrace and the backyard. Looking around, it felt peaceful. It was chaotic, I can’t lie, but something peaceful lay in the intense yelling and the comradery. I missed this.

Carlos’ English became non-existent. Both he and my brother screamed in Spanish, commending the tactics. I was not particularly paying attention. Not because I didn’t like football, but because I simply couldn’t make myself focus on the players when I was so aware of the man next to me, still smelling like the suncream and sea.

An Estrella Galicia appeared before me with drops of water sliding down the bottle. I turned to the man next to me, whose wet slender fingers were still around the bottle.

"You're not paying attention, are you?" Carlos said, taking the cap off the beer. Our fingers touched for a fraction of a second while I took the bottle in my hands.

“Spent way too many hours in front of a screen, today,” I had a sip. “My eyes are tired.”

“Take a day off, tomorrow,” once again, he leaned against his chair, with a second beer in his hand, from which he had a sip. “Try to enjoy the vacation.”

“It’s not properly vacation,” he scrunched his nose at my words.

“Eh, I didn’t think you would actually get some work done.”

“She’s a workaholic, Chili,” Rio said from his chair, not bothering to turn to us or even looking in our direction. “You won’t see her all week.”

I rolled my eyes. “Don’t start.”

“So, you’ll join us tomorrow?” Carlos asked. “To be beach we were discussing at lunch?”

“I don’t know. I need to check my schedule.”

He took another sip, his lips twisting in a smile. “I’ll know if you’re lying.”

“She won’t say no,” Rio said. “Not to you.”

“Don’t be so convinced,” I told them.

A hint of disorientation but me as Rio turned back to the projection, but Carlos kept looking at me. Deep hazel eyes bulged into mine until the crowd and their exaggerated reactions to the goal stole his attention.

I saw him again the next morning.

I had woken up early as usual and although I had promised myself I would take a break from work and get some rest, I didn’t want to miss my morning routine. The sun was shining in through the window, casting a warm light over the room. The sea was calm and the sun was getting high in the sky.

Stepping down the stairs, I could hear nothing but the soft brush of the waves on the rocks outside, but as I reached the bottom of the stairs and headed to the door, I found him wearing orange shorts and a white t-shirt, bent over near the open door, tying his shoes. Getting back up, he looked behind him.

“You’re up early,” he said as he straightened up and put his cap on.

“Morning run, as always,” I explained, walking towards the door. He walked outside after me, closing the door behind us.

“I see,” he nodded and then silence fell upon us. Only the waves and the sound of our footsteps on the gravel could be heard for a few seconds. “We could go together,” his voice broke the silence and stretched in the air like a question that I wished he didn’t ask.

We stopped near the gate, my mind battling the idea while he opened it up and waited for me to pass. I could feel the closeness of his body and his breath on my shoulder as I passed between him and the gate.

“I was going to do some intervals.”

“I can do intervals.” He rushed to say. I just nodded. “You can just say you don’t want my company if that—”

“No, not at all.” I interrupted him and looked at my watch to start the program.

When I looked back at him, he was already running. Slowly, at first, but then he increased the pace and I had to run to catch up with him. We ran in silence for a while, our breathing falling into sync as we ran side by side. The sound of our footsteps, our breathing and the waves were the only things keeping us company. I was trying to keep my mind blank, but it was hard.

Every time I tried to empty my thoughts and focus on the road ahead, his face would appear in my peripheral vision, or he would point at a funny-shaped cloud or a pretty rock on the sea. Before noticing, I was completely out of the route I’d previously chosen for that morning. We had left the residential area and were now running on a dirt road by the sea.

“Where are we?” I asked, slowing my pace and looking around.

“Just keep running,” he said. “How much time left?”

I looked at the watch, “Little less than 5 minutes.” He just nodded.

“It’s enough to get there,” Carlos made a gesture with his hand, asking me to catch up to him again. “Vamos, don’t make me drag you up the hill.”

Slowly, we started to move away from the sea, following a trail on a small hill. Between the trees, the remnants of blue narrowed. My watch beeped just before we reached the highest point of the mountain and Carlos refused to stop and forbade me to do so. I would have complained if the effort of climbing such a steep path hadn't taken my breath away.

“Come on,” he said, holding my hand and pulling me up the last few meters. Warm and sweaty, but firm around my fingers. I looked up at him. “We’re almost there.”

As we reached the top, the blue widened in front of us, revealing an infinite horizon. The sea and the sky melted in a single shade of blue, in a single line that drew the limit between what was above and what was below. Some benches, made of stone, stood in the middle of a small clearing. Carlos let go of my hand and sat on the bench, motioning for me to do the same. I followed his gesture and sat down, my eyes still on the view in front of us.

“I like it here,” he said, after a few minutes of silence.

“It’s lovely,” I whispered, not taking my eyes off the view. The sun was high in the sky now and the heat was starting to be felt, even with the wind.

“You should see it at sunset,” he said. “It’s even better.”

The house was just a white patch among the green at the bottom of the hill. There was a sailboat crossing the sea in front of us and some jet skis creating foam paths in the deep blue. Our accelerated breaths, the sound of birds and the whistle of the wind were our only soundtrack.

It was like the world had stopped spinning and time had frozen in that moment of utter tranquillity. His hands were resting on the bench, his left hand between us. Mine was dangerously close to his, so close I thought I could feel his warmth spreading towards me—that unexplainable pull towards him.

A sensation that I dread with the same emotion that I welcomed. Peace and tranquillity walking side by side with fear like no other. We couldn’t part ways, again. I couldn’t bare to see him walk away and lose this feeling, again. I turned my head to face him, wondering if he felt the same. The sun kissed his already-tanned face; there was a faint rosy line under his eyes and on the top of his nose. His hair curled around the brim of the cap.

“You come here often?” I had to end the silence.

He faced me. “We came here yesterday. I think you were in a meeting. Marjorie said you couldn’t come.”

“Yeah, it was a last-minute call, couldn’t postpone it. But thank you for bringing me here.”

“Just wanna make sure you’re not losing the good parts of being here.”

“Carlos—”

“I’m not in the position to tell you what to do, but you—” he cut me off. I propped my elbows on my knees and after a deep breath, I rose back up.

“Yet you do,” this time it was me who cut him off. When I looked at him, his jaw was tense, eyes locked on his hands, holding the bench. “I have to work. I can’t just decide to not work. I told you before coming here.”

“You need guidance.”

“For work?”

He frowned, shaking his head. “For racing.”

“I have Rio and my dad—”

“Your dad?” His body turned to face me, eyes piercing through mine and meeting all the weaknesses I held inside. I would crumble at his feet if I didn’t look away. “Eva, listen.”

“I don’t—”

“Eva, listen,” Carlos said firmly. “Learn to listen. Stop being like this.”

“Like what?”

“So stubborn, when all I want to do is help. I know it was wrong to turn my back on you but I care about you. Always had.” He paused. “I can’t ignore that, and I know neither can you, but… listen. I just want to do what I couldn’t do until now.”

The duality of feelings was consuming me whole. My chest burning with questions, but not looking to find the answers. My throat aching. Lungs way past the point of their capacity. I felt like I couldn’t breathe.

“Can we talk like grown-ups?” Carlos turned to me, once again.

“Sure,” his gaze softened the weight on my shoulders. “Go ahead.”

“Your dad wants to sell the team.”

Inside my mind, silence.

Around us, the wind made the leaves run on the floor against the grass, composing a low-frequency melody that made nothing to make me calmer. The weight fell back on my shoulders, the knot in my throat getting thigh with all the words I wasn’t able to say.

“How do you—?”

“My dad told me,” he paused. “Your father looks at numbers and follows them. Makes you follow them. And if you need more proof, you should have been the one in F3, not Rio. I love him, but you have more talent in a fingernail than that guy in his whole body.” Amid sorrow, my lips found a way to curve in a small smile, imitating his. “You have so much pot—”

“Don’t say potential.”

“Potential,” I rolled my eyes and he chuckled between his words. “It’s sad to see you stuck in The Challenge or a reserve seat.”

“I’m not stuck.”

“Eva, come on…”

“I can go anywhere else, I have proposals.”

“Why don’t you, then?”

“Because I don’t have that mentality or experience… I’m not you, or Rio. I race because I like it and because I found joy in doing it. But lately? With all these… talks and expectations? And covid, and having my seat in FRECA revoked out of nowhere... You know this takes more than driving the car.” I paused to take a deep breath. “They keep saying I need to do more, but what if I don’t want to do more?”

“I can’t let you give up.”

Deep breath. Blink twice. Look at him, again. To the man with the ebony hair, now without his cap and with his hair being whipped by the wind. He looked at me, squinting his eyes while battling a particularly strong gust of wind. His head tilted to the side, lips parted as if a long sigh is waiting to be let out. I shook my head, weary of the subject.

"It's tiring to repeat it, Carlos," I said and the sigh he was holding was finally released. Carlos moved in his place, gathering his hands in his lap and then resting them on his thighs. “You don’t get it, do you?”

“I don’t,” he shook his head. “I look at you and I see an incredible future, as I always did. I thought we would share the track, someday. I imagined that you would follow the same steps that I took and that Rio took... I asked my dad so many times what prevented you from going to F3."

"Sponsors," I said, he nodded.

"He told me the same. But…" he shook his head again, “did they see you racing? Did they see you on the track? Or in the garage talking to any mechanic or engineer?" I shook my head. "You were raised in a garage, but in the wrong stop. You should have been in the car, not following us everywhere and watching from afar.”

“I… It was… F3 is a big deal. And after Rio decided he didn’t want to race anymore? Do you have any idea of mad my dad got? I can’t even imagine how much money he spent with Rio, for nothing… I mean, I get it. Of course, he has reservations, now.”

“I don’t.”

“He’s… I don’t know. I think he expected Rio to be the one doing this, you know?” He nodded slightly. “I mean, I wouldn’t put money on me, not after—”

“I would,” he interrupted me. “Any person who knows enough after racing would. Why don’t you believe it?”

“Because I haven’t seen it!” I said, impatient. “For a while, I believed in it, you know? F3… You were there, you know how hard I wanted it. How much I fought for it. Asking for sponsors, and trying to find a seat, but after years of trying and failing…? Either because of money, or just because I wasn’t doing as well as people wanted me to… It was brutal…”

In silence, he nodded again, lowering his hand and placing it on the bench. I looked down. To the contract between his soft skin and the rough surface, the veins creating bumpy mountains on the tanned skin.

“And now I think,” I looked up at him, again. “What if I fail them all again?”

It was uncomfortable. The talk, the place, the roughness of the bench against the back of my thighs, the sun hitting me hard on the back. Small drops of sweat dripped down my temples, ticker ones dripped down his.

“So you rather fail yourself?”

“God… you almost sound like Marjorie.”

He snorted. “Come on, give me an answer.”

“No,” I said. “I don’t want to fail myself. I like this. I like racing. But I hate the pressure and this… carnage. And it’s so fucking lonely. I’m… I just want to be home. Have a stable job. Come home after work, with fresh bread and open a bottle of wine, watch a sitcom…” He took a breath and I watched his Adam’s apple bob up and down.

Carlos was always so calm, so collected. I’ve always envied that.

“It doesn’t have to be lonely.”

“It is, though.”

“No.” He shook his head. “I’ve been there. I’ve been to the top. Been all the way down. Look at this season… I know what it’s like to feel the fear and the desperation and the hopelessness, and I’ve overcome that. Well…” he hesitated, “I still am. But do you think I’m doing all of this alone?”

“This season…” he continued, eyes down. “Each time I thought it couldn’t go worst, it went. And I know you think I’m this cold, rude person, with no feelings and emotions, like a robot,” I bit my lips trying to muffle a chuckle that I couldn’t stop. He smiled. “It was tough, I really felt it in my skin. And I’m sure it didn’t end here, more will come… But I had and I have my dad, and Rupert, Caco, my friends… my sisters…”

“Rio is leaving.”

“Ah…” He rocked back in his place, rubbing his hands on his shorts. “I thought it may be that.” he stopped. “I feel like I need to apologize for making him leave.”

“Nah, it wasn’t you. He really deserves this opportunity.”

Silence.

“I know you don’t want to hear this, but,” his voice softened and he met my gaze. The look in his eyes was so sad, so resigned. It pulled at something in my chest. “I’ll be here.”

Silence.

In my mind, he was already gone. But those eyes? And the way they looked at me like I was some kind of rare work of art? Damn him. My eyes dropped down to the line of his mouth—lips full, and somehow I knew exactly what they’d taste like.

“God forbid you will ever do what I ask you to,” I joked, weakly, and in response, he let out a hoarse chuckle. But as soon as the chuckle died down, his expression turned serious again.

"Listen, I know this isn't the life you imagined for yourself. And this may sound selfish, but this isn’t the life I imagined for you. I know sitcoms and tea are much more likeable than having fajitas for dinner after running 5K in negative temperatures, but… I can’t let you do this. I can’t let you give up.”

I felt a weak smile grow on my lips.

“And if you fail? Then you fail,” he shrugged. “We all have ups and downs. You fall, and you get back up again because, and this is a promise, I won’t let you feel lonely.”

“And what if I’m just… not good enough?”

The corner of his lips pointed up, in a lopsided smile. “You are. That’s the only thing I’m sure about.” He paused. My eyes dropped to my hands, and his hand met my thigh, in a gentle caress. “Look at me.” I did. Of course, I did. “You’ve won races, championships. You were amazing in your WEC debut. Everyone agrees. If you want to do this, you can. Endurance, Formula, just name it… I know you can do it.”

Tension grew heavy. My chest was about to implode on itself, loaded with a strange sense of hope and an ambition I’d felt like I’d forgotten about.

“If I run out of options,” his smile grew, notoriously understanding I was about to completely shift the mood. “I’ll join your dad at Extreme E.”

At this point, I was already grinning. He snorted. “Good luck keeping up with the old man,” he got up and extended me his hand. “Anyways, I’m sure you’d be amazing.”

Five minutes later, we were by the sea again, in a course we trekked at a steady pace, side by side, in silence. If before I associated Carlos with cold and stormy nights, thunder that made the ground shake and freezing snow, now I saw him in the light of the August sun, surrounded by the immense blue, a clear sky and an empty road ahead.

Airport Carlos + Sun Kissed Carlos + Motivational Speaker Carlos + was that Jealous Carlos? 👀 Thank you all for the support! Please, keep leaving comments and messages, they mean the world! All the love, Bru

[marvel-starwarsfangirl]

Ep. 13 "Into the Breach" Review

This was another fantastic episode that packs so much into its 25 minute runtime. Seriously, the finale better be like an hour. I feel like there's so much we have to address, yet so little time. My faith in you doesn't waver Jennifer; you've guided us through thick and thin. I will say that Rampart is surprisingly a really fun character to revisit and I enjoy watching him interact with the Batch. This man doesn't learn, but he's funny now so I give him kudos for entertainment purposes. I loved the dark atmosphere as the finale draws nearer and near. This is the end of the Bad Batch. We know it and they know it.

As usual, spoilers below:

MAMA ECHO RETURNS!!! After so long, he graces us with his appearance and he serves. I loved everything from his action sequences to his sass. Watching him sneak around the Imperial ship, rolling off of crates and working his magic was awesome to watch. That's why he's the Arc Trooper. And boy was he funny too. If it were possible, Rampart would've definitely be set on fire. Between being told he was being demoted to being denied the title of "sir," Rampart was demolished by Echo. It's just so good to see Echo again. I love him so much for his kind heart, quips, and awesome action sequences. The writers delivered!

Rampart, Rampart, Rampart... what will we do with you? He certainly hasn't changed and probably never will. But honestly, I kinda hope he doesn't. Sometimes, people are just aholes who do the right things for the wrong reasons. Rampart provides an interesting moral perspective. And he's still hot. Seeing him cleaned up in the uniform didn't help either. I'm a simple woman guys. He's also hilarious and I love it. Rampart's ego is so big that he unintentionally comes across as whiny and comical. Going forward, I seriously wonder what they'll do with him because he's going to Tantiss. Will he get dropped off? Sell the Batch out? Die in the battle that is to come? Next week will tell. I'm glad he was brought back though. He did his job as a villain well. Now, we get to see him in different situations and it's fun.

Omega, my sweet bean, hang in there. This episode does so well in establishing just how much she's grown over the past few seasons. Omega's always been resourceful and clever. Seeing her scheme to escape the Vault was exciting. You can also see the influence her brothers, particularly Hunter, have had on her. Omega's become more confident and mature. She's a leader in every sense of the word. The other kids look to her for guidance as she plans an escape. I also want to give the other kids a huge hug; I can't imagine what it must be like for them. It's one of the darkest things we've ever seen in Star Wars. Also, Emerie and Scalder rivalry definitely is gonna end with Emerie's true motivations being discovered. Scalder's not gonna let her allow Omega to slip away.

And seeing the boys strip their armor of all their color... that was legitimately heartbreaking to watch. I see it as a symbol of finality. There is no going back once they get to Tantiss. Hunter's "negative" just cements that. The last 5 minutes of the episode were so tense as the boys hitched a ride. As a my discord friend put it, "all roads lead to Tantiss."

There were a lot of smaller moments I enjoyed too. Wrecker was pretty funny this episode. Crosshair and Hunter voicing their trust in Echo was sweet. It furthers just how much the Batch truly trust and know each other. It's that implicit trust that makes me love their dynamic so much.

Anyways, that's all for now. We're truly in the endgame guys. After so long, we've finally made it to Tantiss. All that's left is to get Omega, the children, and escape which is so much easier said than done. I'm so scared yet excited for what's to come. See y'all next week!

[sabrondabrainrot]

I finished the 87 series as a whole (except the European vacay season like I can't find it anywhere) and want to cry!!! My boys!!! I can't believe it's done!!!

What an awesome show. I might have to rewatch it just to write down more notes and thoughts. ;)

Anyways here's some headcanons about my sweet 87 boys and some show observations:

Hopefully with this people might give the show a chance. It's so delightful and charming. You won't be disappointed.

🐢🧡🐢💜🐢♥️🐢💙

The turtles are all basically 3-4 years old. They make tons of comments about living half their lives in a fish bowl and when Yoshi comes across them they're still babies. When they're shown mutating, they go from baby turtles to the older bipedal forms we know them by.

They're all identical sans their voices. (In the 87 show not only does April have trouble telling them apart at the beginning but so do the animators in every episode)

They all seem to possess super strength and some levels of invulnerability. Donatello in particular had a multiple story brick building dropped on him, which he just walked off. They've all shown varying skills such as bending metal with their bare hands. Raphael as a practical joke in one episode picks up a couch and hurls it at Donatello just to be smartass. Leonardo cuts metal like tinfoil.

They still think of themselves as turtles first and foremost, so they don't refer to each other as brothers. (despite the fact they're totally brothers) and simply address each other as friends. (They're brothers tho we all know the truth 💕)

Something not explained in the opening of the 3rd season, the turtles as babies, before they mutate, are shown with different shell patterns. While it's not obvious which turtle is which it is neat the artists went out of their way to animate each turtle with a unique pattern.

When you watch the show the amount of people and mutants that dislike the turtles is shocking. For a fun kids show made in the late 80's to mid 90's, it's basically a huge allegory to the civil rights movements and you can even take relevance to human rights movements of today.

Despite being so lovable they have only a small circle of friends. Most of those friends at some point have betrayed them too.

The boys have seen two different futures of themselves. (not counting their shared apocalypse nightmares) The first future is where they get old together in a mansion and they're heralded as heroes and everyone likes them. The second future doesn't show them but in the second future it's stated being a mutant is a crime punishable by death and all mutants are criminals regardless of deeds. This is before the red skies studio era of writing. That's before it's supposed to get edgy.

They all are highly intelligent. They can each pilot every vehicle ever present in the show despite none of them having a formal education, license, or understanding of the rules of the road. Michelangelo in particular seems to have a knack for US fighter jets.

In season 7 episode 11, titled "Dirk Savage: Mutant Hunter!" We meet two new mutants named Rahzar and Tokka. They're a gay couple. You don't believe me? Go watch the episode. I'm not pulling your leg. I swear. I promise. It's a good episode go watch it.

Master Splinter calls them his sons. He also calls Carter, his newest student, son occasionally too. It's his term of endearment.

The turtles in this version are known to get sick pretty regularly. (probably because of their still developing immune systems). They always get sick as a group and they totally soak up the pampering.

They in the first season share a 4 stack bunk bed and then after the bunk is destroyed in the season 1 finale they each get their own alcoves which they treat as their own rooms.

I didn't remember which Punk Frog said it, but one of them called Leonard and Michelangelo his Bubba which is a term of endearment for brother. The punk frogs call each other bubba too. So unlike the turtles they were either all frog brothers who mutated together or after mutating they just decided they're brothers and they also adopted the turtles as their brothers too.

Mondo Gecko seems older in this series because of his appearance but he's the same age as the turtles and actually mutated from the same ooze as them on the same day at the same time so he in 87 is like a mix of their brother and cousin? He's related regardless. (We all know the truth in our hearts)

Shredder and Krang act like a married couple who've been married too long and are on the cusp of a divorce but they've been together too long so they just keep tolerating eachother.

They all love the unhinged gross unholy pizza combos. Michaelangelo's stated combos are actually tame compared to some of the things they've eaten. One episode the boys committed to the bit so hard they ate lit candles just to mess with Michelangelo. They get pregnant sardine fudge pizza cravings at midnight. They put cereal on regular pizza for breakfast. They hate vegetables though. They literally gag when Splinter eats sushi. They refuse to eat bugs despite their turtle origins (interesting enough the Punk Frogs don't even like pizza at all first unlike them) but like they will eat out of the garbage. But not fresh handmade sushi.

They're so casual about being in public. Like they have disguises but sometimes they just go out in public as themselves. They also have so many elaborate disguises. In the first episode their first instinct to blend in was to throw on bright neon shoes, various bomber jackets, and start publicly beatboxing and breakdancing.

The turtles get called slurs by Shredder, Bebop, and Rocksteady. The slur in question is "Shellback" . When Donatello makes an evil clone the first thing the clone does is call him that slur. It's so funny like that's yourself. Donatello basically called himself ugly. Why is that so funny.

Shredders go to threat in the show and many other villains go to insult is to straight up threaten to eat them. Like, do none of the villains care about getting salmonella? Why do all the villains want to eat them?

Something I've noticed, they refuse to use nicknames. They only use each other's full names. It makes me wonder why? I theorize it's probably to do with the fact Master Splinter gave them their names and that's the first thing they received? It's not like they're not playful enough to use nicknames.

Despite his fatherly role in their lives, the turtle boys don't call Splinter their father and this is more than likely to do with the fact they see themselves as turtles and know they have turtle parents. (Again we know the truth)

April in this show is an adrenaline junky. She's also a child endangerer. She's helped save the day a lot but she would much rather the world burn so she can film it as her next big scoop.

The boys treat April like their mom in this show. April herself doesn't really get that. In one episode she got poison flowers and thought it was from the boys and went to "let them down gently" because she thought they romantically liked her.

April on multiple occasions reads bed time stories to them. She in one episode read the same bedtime story 4 times just because they liked it that much. She was going to read it a 5th time just for Leonardo.

When Zack, the 5th turtle, was in danger instead of helping him April shouted "What a scoop!" and filmed a child in a death trap.

Splinter believes in wholesome gaslighting in this show. He once cured three of them of permanent balloon-itis with moth balls but made up a story about how it was an ancient mythical legendary cure. Then after they were better he said it was moth balls.

April actually got fired from her job because she wouldn't badmouth the turtles on live television (also for other reasons). She focused on freelance while helping the boys on the side.

April is really bamf. She's actually saved the turtles just as much as they save her.

I just want everyone to know I love these little guys. The turtles are pure little snookie pookie baby bookies. No one knows the amount of space these silly little fictional turtles take up in my heart.

I hope maybe with more word out people might give the 1987 tmnt show a chance. It's really cute and funny. A super enjoyable time. It doesn't deserve the ragging it gets from other shows and fanbases. They're just goobers.

Thanks for reading my ramble list. :)

Also! if there's any fanfic recs please let me know I'm making a list and checking it twice ;)

[harleyxhoward]

The Umbrella Academy S4 (thoughts & opinions)

- HOT TAKE: The issue I had with Five and Lila getting together wasn’t the bizarre age gap or insensitivity of Five sleeping with his brother’s wife, but how they don’t resolve the tension properly before they all cease to exist. Specifically Diego and Five don’t get to hold hands the way Lila and Five did, even though it wasn’t really up to Lila to “forgive” Five, but whatever. I thought that had this affair been treated with an ounce of consideration it would reveal a lot more about both characters shared desperation for affection and emotional stimulation. Five spent decades in complete social isolation to the point where he legitimately fell in love with a mannequin and you want me to believe that, given the similar scenario that most certainly triggered the same “well I guess I’m stuck in this shit now for an indefinite amount of time” area of his brain, he wouldn’t have resorted to falling in love with the fist available person regardless of what it meant outside of the subway? Lila too seemed to get with Diego because while they did click in S2, she had never lived a life that allowed her to experience romance or starting a family like she could with Diego. She pumped out three kids to seemingly force herself to enjoy what she knows could be taken away from her at the throwing of a time traveling briefcase, but her behavior this season is baffling because what do you mean after seven years of searching for a way home she never once brings up missing those three children until the opportunity to return home presents itself? She tries to wipe her hands of the situation, but then the show just kind of ends without meaningful conclusion, so…

- The ending was sloppy. I know you know that, but my issue wasn’t the actual end. The Hargreeves having to sacrifice themselves in a way indicative of the S1 finale makes perfect sense, especially with the painfully shallow Five Diner down in that unexplained subway station where they all indirectly allude to the fact that there’s never a condition where at least one of the family doesn’t end the world. Had the Fives took time to explain that each Hargreeve possesses earth shattering abilities that eventually snowball out of control regardless of the condition, and all resistance is futile, I would accept that the ending makes more sense than just blaming the marigold despite the fact that Victor can/has been able to syphon marigold out of people, and could’ve just taken it all himself but you know, whatever.

- I also deeply resent that a show about familial trauma and bonding despite the shared adversity ultimately concluded on everyone giving up. No. You don’t get to say that they “didn’t just give up” because yes, them saying “oh no, well, there’s ten minutes left of the episode, guess we should cease to exist now” is the definition of not even trying to venture down into the subway as a family and fix the other timelines one at a time, using their newfound familial unity to solve every timeline until they converge into one. I’m not saying that needed to happen at all, or that they should have succeeded even if they tried, but AT LEAST THEN THEY WOULD HAVE TRIED. The writers gave up, the characters gave up, and the metaphor of grief and family issues the show spent so long to cultivate were just abandoned.

- Klaus regressed with no substantial reason or impact other than to provide slapstick humor and comedic relief antics that didn’t amount to any of what he had spent the last few seasons building and working towards. Ben shouldn’t have been brought back after his noble and meaningful sacrifice of S2 only to be made into the most obnoxious version of himself. Allison didn’t even get to say “I heard a rumor” this season nor did she address attempting to sexually assault Luther, and Diego’s relationship with Lila was the absolute worst case scenario for both characters. Viktor was the only one with an arc worth watching this season, which is why I thought him having a solo sacrifice would have been even more gut wrenching but whatever.

- There is an insurmountable amount of plot holes that prove this show just got lazy. There should be a kugelblitz in the finale’s timeline. If Lila/Allison were never born then there could never be Grace/Lila’s children. You don’t get to say “well what about the subway” because that doesn’t protect them from the grandfather paradox, unless outright stated which the writers didn’t even bother to do.

- Why didn’t they just kill Jennifer? Who put her in the squid? If it was Reggie’s wife then why didn’t she just kill her? Why didn’t Reggie kill her when he built the town to “protect” her? Why did she react with pure terror when shown the squid? How did Jean and Gene get their hands on it? Was it a normal giant squid or an alien? Was it her mother? No, because then how did she speak English when she emerged from its stomach? Why did she say “the cleanse” like she knew what it meant when she didn’t? Ben should’ve been able to remember in the OG timeline how he died because absolutely every other spirit does and the show can’t just rewrite its own lore to cater to a last minute subplot that went nowhere. I don’t want to be mean but Jennifer never should have existed as a S4 add in because she did absolutely nothing for the plot other than confusing the audience with the persistent question of why didn’t they just kill her to prevent the cleanse from happening. Reginald said one of them had to die, but in the OG timeline he killed both just to be…cruel? What’s the point of writing that it just had to be one of them if you’re just going to act like it’s a package deal? This entire plot line made me truly believe this season was written by AI, I’m sorry.

[lady-phenix]

Ooc post

So...theory time! After watching the new HB episode and doing some thinking, I have a theory as to what's going to happen in the finale and going into the next season.

Potential spoilers and a kinda personal rant below.

Let's get my rant out of the way first: please, for the love of all things holy/unholy, can we PLEASE stop infantilizing Stolas! This is getting to be so ridiculous its not even funny! For someone who says both characters were wrong, Vivienne is seriously babying Stolas and its frankly pissing me off. I feel bad for Brandon Rogers (I know he's one of the writers and he may have a hand in this but seriously bear with me), the voice of Blitz, because it seems everyone is fucking shitting on his character and blaming Blitz for literally everything. As a wanna be creative, I would never put one of my creative partners through that. And if I had to voice the proverbial punching bag for as long as he has, I probably would've left the project YEARS ago. Cause it's honestly bullshit. If both characters of blitz and stolas are supposed to be shitty, then why is Stolas' bad behavior not being addressed?! "Oh I never talked down to you!" Bull fucking shit Stolas! Bullshit, nonsense, and shenanigans! All at the same time!

This is not me entirely ripping on Stolas, he has potential. Hell he's the brother of my OC, but goddamn they need to stop treating him with kid gloves and call. Him. OUT! Goddamn fucking dammit, somebody call him out on his bullshit please!

Okay...rants out of the way, theory time.

That being said, I do think someone is gonna call him out on his bullshit. And it's gonna be none other than Octavia. Not on his behavior in regards to blitz (though she did kinda witness her dad's bs at loo-loo land) but in regards to how he treats her. She's going to give him the wake up call (and ass ripping) of a lifetime. And she's going to do it in public, potentially in front of the entire goetia and the seven deadly sins. Unfortunately this is gonna get dark, so if parental alienation is a trigger please don't read further. I'd rather not upset anyone. And please keep in mind this is only a theory, I don't actually know what's gonna happen.

Okay...so...ass ripping of a lifetime, calling him out on how he treats her in front of everyone. We haven't seen her the past few episodes, and we haven't actually seen her interact with Stella or Andrealphus. But if bitter divorce stories are, usually, anything to go by, those two are definitely practicing parental alienation. Maybe she's vented to them about what's going on with her and Stolas, and they see it as an opportunity to shit talk him in front of her. All the while they're actually treating her better, listening to her in hopes to get more information out of her to use against him. They essentially love bomb her and turn her against Stolas, dropping the bomb that Octavia was the result of an arranged marriage and that her parents never loved each other, but Stella "assures" Octavia that she loves her, and loves her FAR more Stolas ever could. Armed with more knowledge from Octavia, Andre and Stella use it against Stolas, and in front of the goetia, the sins, and everyone else, Octavia rips her dad a new one, tells him to fuck off and that he never loved her or her mother, that he only loves Blitz, and tells him she's done trying with him and is going to live with her mother and uncle.

It is going to be harsh.

It is going to be painful.

But goddamn it needs to be done. If Blitz is getting shit on for literally everything wrong in his relationship with Stolas, it's ONLY fair that Stolas takes the shit for his relationship with Octavia. Because at the end of the day, at least that's true and there's no gray area there. He's the adult, she's the child, it's up to him to actually try and have a relationship with her. And unfortunately it's going to start with a proverbial slap in the face, as it should. If blitz needs to learn to be a better partner/person, then that's only fair that Stolas needs to learn to be a better dad/partner/person.

Once again if Vivienne could stop babying stolas, and stop shitting on blitz for more than two seconds, we could actually get that ball rolling....

Again, this is not me really hating on Stolas. I like the owl boy, but the way he's being babied isn't right or fair to anyone else. It's bullshit and honestly, right now in my opinion, bad writing.