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ginnsbaker · 3 months

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fic: if i bleed (you'll be the last to know) (2/?)

Part summary: Leigh goes on a double date with Jules. You reach a tipping point with Leigh's relentless hostility towards you.

Pairing: Leigh Shaw x Fem!Reader | Word count for this part: 5,072 | Warnings/Tags: None for now... smut eventually, enemies to lovers A/N: So... this turned into more than a two-shot. But it will still be a mini-series. It's also kinda slow burn for a mini series (lol). Also, this isn't canon compliant at all. Meaning, I took a lot of liberties and added stuff to Leigh and Matt's relationship, and it doesn't follow the timeline of the show. With that said, enjoy!

Masterlist | Part I | Next Part

The vet bills hit Leigh's bank account way harder than she’s willing to admit.

She knew taking care of pets could get pricey, but she thought that was just for those on their last leg, like Matt's dog, Rogue. Facing those steep costs made her think twice about turning down Drew's offer a while back to bring back her advice column. So, she calls him up as soon as she pays up a quarter of the charges on her credit card for Visitor's medical expenses.

Drew answers on the second ring. “Hey Leigh, what's up?”

Leigh doesn’t beat around the bush. She never has to with her best friend. “Can we meet at the cafe? I need to talk to you about something.”

“Sure. Be there in 20,” Drew replies right away.

The coffee shop they frequent is a small local business that specializes in cold brews. Leigh’s favorite thing about it is not the coffee though, but its interior: mismatched chairs, bookshelves lining the wall, and the temperature that’s always just right. Leigh arrives first, securing their favorite table near the window. Drew walks in a few minutes later, coffee already in hand, and greets her with a warm smile.

“Okay, spill. What's going on?” Drew asks as he takes a seat.

“I've been thinking... about the column. I was wrong to turn it down. I want back in.”

The look of utter surprise on his face tells Leigh this was the last thing he expected. She senses his response won't be a straightforward yes.

“I'd be thrilled to have you back, Leigh, I really would—”

“But?” Leigh cuts in. She doesn’t need to hear a bullshit ‘it’s not you, it’s me’ excuse. She wishes Drew would just be as direct with her as she is with him.

Drew lets out a sigh. Under different circumstances, saying no to Leigh would be as easy as declining an upsell from a McDonald's cashier. However, ever since Leigh became a widow, rejecting her feels significantly harder, even though he's well aware that Leigh values honesty over pity.

“But the thing is, the new writer’s really hitting it off with our audience. She's had a string of articles go viral lately.”

Leigh doesn’t look at all impressed by that. “Yeah, I heard.”

Personally, Drew’s not a fan of the new writer's style, and honestly, he still prefers Leigh. It would just be a hard sell if he brought this up to management. As the saying goes: if it ain't broke, don't fix it.

“Look, I still think you have a unique voice. You know I’d still take advice from you over the new girl.”

Leigh scoffs a little at that, shaking her head. Drew rolls his eyes; it’s typical of Leigh to never know how to take a compliment. He continues, “How would you feel about guest writing? Maybe for the first couple of weeks, we could find a way to incorporate your insights into a series or a special feature.”

It’s not what she hoped for, but she recognizes the olive branch for what it is.

And she’ll take it.

“I... yeah, I think that could work, Drew. I've got a ton of new ideas, and this... this could be great,” Leigh says. “Uhm, thanks.”

Drew grins. “I thought you'd like that. Let's kick off with a couple of guest pieces, see how it goes.”

Leigh half-heartedly returns his enthusiasm just as her order of cheeseburger and affogato are served.

“Anything new with you?” Drew asks, his voice taking on that tone he reserves for the really good gossip. Knowing Drew's helping her out, Leigh figures a little life update wouldn't hurt as a form of thanks.

That update is about you. And the moment Leigh spills the beans, Drew's face lights up like a Christmas tree. But his excitement fizzles out just as fast when he figures out Leigh's got nothing scandalous to say. All she mentions is how you might've missed the mark by not doing your homework on the guy you were seeing.

“What’s your plan then?”

“Seems like everyone’s asking me that,” Leigh says flatly.

“You took your stray to her place, right? So, there must be some sort of plan. I mean, you could've gone to any other vet if you wanted to avoid her.”

“Yeah, but her clinic's location is so convenient, and I didn't want to shrink my world just for her.”

Drew hums in response. Leigh admits she’s been unusually passive with you. Normally, she'd confront issues head-on, but even almost half a year later, she still hasn’t fully processed Matt’s death, let alone his cheating. She's been trying a new tactic, almost as if by ignoring her problems, she hopes they'll fade away on their own. She seems to be betting on the idea that if she pretends long enough, maybe one day she'll wake up and find those issues have lost their grip on her.

“I don’t know Leigh, the whole thing’s weird,” Drew says, scrunching up his face a bit.

“It’s not like I’m trying to make a friend or enemy out of her,” Leigh replies with a shrug. “I’m just using her services as a doctor, and she’s getting paid for it. That’s all there is to it.”

“Oh, so that’s why you need your old job back. She’s draining your purse,” he says, smirking as he adds, “Bitch.”

“You don’t have to call her that,” Leigh chides, though the corner of her mouth twitches in amusement. Deep down, she understands the twisted satisfaction in disliking someone without having to justify it.

“The funniest thing that can happen is if you two actually end up being friends,” Drew quips, picking up an accidental curly from Leigh’s plate.

Leigh finds that scenario hard to imagine, almost impossible. She doesn’t think she can be friends with someone Matt liked more than her.

Leigh is hunched over her laptop, with sheets of paper and colorful markers spread out on the table, meticulously designing missing dog posters for Visitor.

Jules, leaning against the doorframe with a mug of coffee in hand, watches Leigh for a moment before speaking up. “You know, you should've done that the second you decided to take Visitor in.”

Leigh doesn't look up from her screen. “His leg needed to be taken care of first,” she reasons.

Jules rolls her eyes, pushing off from the doorframe to come closer. “And? How did it go at the clinic?”

Leigh pauses, then lets out an exaggerated sigh. “I already told you about the tests Visitor had to go through. They said he’ll be fine.”

“I mean with the doctor, not the patient,” Jules clarifies with a smirk.

There's a beat of silence before Leigh quips, “No cat fights happened, I promise,” her eyes going back to her laptop.

“Any chance she knocked off a bit of the bill?” Jules asks, moving to sit behind Leigh to take a peek of her work. It looks like an 8th grader’s art project, but she bites back any criticisms.

“Nope.”

“Told you she’s a bitch,” Jules murmurs under her breath.

“It's not like anyone's doing charity work these days, especially not in this economy,” Leigh argues weakly.

“Yeah, right. Like she needs your money, Leigh. Veterinarians are loaded, if you didn’t know.”

“If you say so.”

Jules decides to drop the subject, and Leigh can hear her shuffling and thinking behind her.

“Hey, there's something I've been wanting to ask you. Don't get mad, okay?”

“Prefacing like that? I'm bracing myself to be utterly scandalized,” Leigh says before smiling and sneaking a glance at Jules.

“Great, you’re cracking jokes again. That’s a good sign,” Jules deadpans but a second later, she’s smiling too.

“Ask away,” Leigh prods.

Jules takes a deep breath, and then:

“Do you think you’re ready to meet someone new?”

Leigh suddenly stops, her fingers just hanging there above the keyboard, unsure of what to do next. What’s the protocol here? If three months is usually the cooling period after a break-up before one can start dating other people, then what's the deal when it's about a husband who's not only passed away but was also cheating? How does that work?

Before Leigh can come up with an answer, she realizes she's already saying no.

Jules groans. “Come on, it's just a double date. It'll be fun. You and me and—”

“I’m really not in the mood to meet other people, Jules.”

Jules cuts in, laying it on thick. “Leigh, seriously, when was the last time you went out and had a little fun? You're practically turning into a recluse. I won't stand by and watch my sister morph into the neighborhood's infamous dog lady.”

“Dog lady? Really?”

“I'm just saying, it's either try something new or start knitting dog sweaters for fun. Your choice.”

Jules can be a real pest sometimes; it’s an endearing quality except when they seem ready to go for each other's throats.

“You think you’re hilarious, don’t you?” Leigh rests her chin on her hand, seriously considering the invitation for a second. “I don’t know how to meet people, Jules. I stopped meeting people when I met Matt. He was my entire world, you know?”

Jules softens, throwing her arms around Leigh’s shoulders. “I know. And I wouldn't push if I didn't think it could be good for you. Plus, I promise, if it's awful, I'll personally escort you out and we can ditch them for ice cream. How's that?”

Leigh senses that Jules won't give up until she gets a yes, so she decides to concede just this time and get it over with.

“Okay, okay, you win. I'll go on your stupid double date. But if this ends in disaster, you're buying me the biggest tub of ice cream you can find,” Leigh says, shrugging her sister off her.

Jules pumps her fist in victory. “Deal! You won't regret this, Leigh. And who knows? It might actually be fun.”

The double date goes surprisingly smoothly, except for the occasional touches coming from her date. To be fair, they are typical for a date and are executed with respect. However, for some reason, Leigh finds herself unusually conscious of every physical contact, making her anxious to move things along and call it a night.

As they step out of the restaurant, Leigh mentally scrambles to remember her date's name. She's bracing for the goodbyes, ready to retreat into the comfort of her room, when Tommy, Jules' girlfriend, suggests they cap the night off at a new bar. It turns out Leigh's date has an investment in the place. He jumps at the suggestion, clearly eager to flaunt this detail, perhaps hoping to impress her.

He does earn a sincere, “That’s cool,” from Leigh, just before she slides into the backseat of his car. Tommy quickly calls dibs on the front seat, leaving the siblings sitting next to each other in the back.

The new bar clearly wants to be the town’s next hotspot, but it seems to be trying too hard. It's got this odd vibe where you're not sure if you should be dancing or just looking around, wondering what it really wants you to do. But Leigh agreed to this, and she won’t embarrass Jules by ditching.

“Can I get you something to drink?”

She stiffens a bit as he draws near, the heat of Patrick's breath—Jules had reminded her of his name during the car ride—making her uncomfortably aware of how close he is. She shifts, trying to put a polite distance between them without seeming too obvious about it. “Um, just a gin and tonic, please,” she says.

She practically sighs in relief as Patrick heads off to order, her eyes darting around the bar. The 90s R&B background gets her head bopping, but all she’s thinking about is her couch and an episode of Parks and Recreation waiting for her at home. Jules and Tommy are in their own little world, giggling and looking all cozy. Leigh never thought she could feel like a third wheel on a double date.

Patrick is taking his time, and when Leigh cranes her neck to peer over the bar, she catches him striking up a conversation with a blonde. Her eyes narrow into slits as she watches, both of them obviously charmed by the other as Patrick laughs at something she said, enjoying himself in a way he hadn’t all night.

Leigh feels a prick of irritation. Sure, she hasn’t been giving him the time of his life, but they’re still on a date. Isn’t there some unwritten rule about not flirting with other people when you're supposed to be with someone?

She waits a bit longer, hoping Patrick would remember he was supposed to be getting her a drink and come back. However, he hasn't moved an inch from his spot and is even passing Leigh's drink to the woman as they keep chatting. Leigh’s mind races. She knows she isn’t into Patrick, has been giving him nothing but the bare minimum, yet she can't shake off the feeling of being slighted. It's not like she wanted his undivided attention, but this... this just seems rude.

She catches Jules looking at her, a questioning eyebrow raised. Leigh just shrugs, not sure how to explain the jumble of feelings she's experiencing without sounding petty or jealous.

When Patrick finally comes back with her drink, the mood has already turned sour for Leigh. She musters a polite smile, accepts the gin and tonic with a thank you, but then heads to the bar on her own without saying anything more. At this point, she's indifferent to what Patrick, Tommy, or Jules might think or say of her; she's finished playing nice for the day.

Leigh slams her gin and tonic like it's water, the sting barely registering. She signals for another without missing a beat and strangers start sliding over drinks with cheeky grins. She toasts to nothing, to no one, letting the conversations slip away before they can get even one word out.

By drink number six—or was it seven?—everything's spinning, laughter too loud, lights too bright. Leigh’s clinging to the bar for dear life when she thinks she sees you. But as quickly as the figure appears, it's lost again, leaving her questioning her ability to handle her alcohol. Back in her college days, Leigh could hold her liquor like a champ, thanks to endless nights of partying. But now, staring down at her drink, she realizes she might've overestimated her current tolerance. The alcohol hits harder than she remembers, making her head swim more than she'd like to admit. It's been a while since she's gone this hard, and her body isn't shy about reminding her.

The worst part of it though is why, of all the faces her mind could conjure up, it's choosing yours.

Just as she tries to shake off the bizarre vision, your face appears again, this time on the dance floor, writhing in a sea of thick, sweating bodies. You're dancing closely with a man, and it’s—

It’s Matt.

Leigh blinks rapidly, attempting to dispel the hallucination because it's impossible; Matt is dead—this can't be real.

But the image of you and Matt refuses to go away. She continues to see the way your grind against him, the way you caress his face as you pull it further into your neck. Anger surges through her, hot and uncontrollable, and before she knows it, her last shot of tequila crashes to the floor. Before the bartender or anyone else can even figure out what's happening, Leigh storms through the crowd, pushing her way to what she believes is you and her husband, and shoves the couple hard. The moment she does it, the fog in her brain finally clears.

She saw wrong. They’re just a random couple, looking as shocked as she feels mortified.

Humiliated and more drunk than she's willing to admit, Leigh doesn't stick around to apologize. Tears start to well up as she pushes through the crowd, dodging empty faces while Jules' calls fade into the background. She shoves through the last of the mob, bursts through the doors into the night, and freedom feels just a breath away. But that breath catches, twists into a violent churn in her gut, and she can barely stagger a few desperate steps away from the entrance before her knees are on the cold pavement, and she’s spilling out onto the ground in front of her. A few groans of disgusts from the people around her doesn’t register as she succumbs to the consequences of her indulgence. Shortly after, she remembers why she’s cut back on alcohol, apart from the fact that Matt abhors it, turns him off more than anything.

“Leigh?”

The voice is familiar, even if she’s heard it only a few times. Her head's spinning as she looks up, the chilly air slapping her face after the stuffiness of the club. She blinks, trying to clear the blur of tears and the aftereffects of one too many drinks, squinting at the figure stepping out from under the streetlights.

Your face, more clearly now under the lamp post is kind of sobering her up a bit.

So, were you actually there in the club, or is Leigh so haunted by thoughts of you and Matt—thoughts she's tried so hard to ignore and bury—that she managed to conjure you as a way to finally confront her true feelings about the entire situation? It’s always the battles with herself she never wins.

“Hey, you alright?” you ask, lowering yourself to get a better look at her but keeping back a bit—just enough space for her to catch her breath or in case she needs to throw up again.

Leigh doesn't respond, doesn't even seem to see you're there. You rummage through your crossbody bag, pulling out some wet wipes and offering them to her. She still doesn't look up, but grabs what you’re offering with a little force.

She proceeds to wipe her mouth and then her entire face as you continue talking, words tumbling out in a nervous stream.

“I saw you back there, in the club. I wasn't sure if I should come up to you, you know, with everything that's happened... with me being... well, the person I am in all of this,” you explain softly. “And then I saw what happened, how upset you got. Sorry I followed you here, I…I just wanted to make sure you’re okay.”

Leigh abruptly gets to her feet, and you instinctively step back, giving her more room than probably needed.

“Why?” Leigh fires at you, her tone so icy it almost makes you regret coming after her. You're taken aback, eyebrows scrunching up in confusion.

Why what?

“Why do you even care?” she clarifies, eyeing you as if you're the densest person on the planet.

You grasp for something, anything that sounds like you're not just here out of guilt. “Anyone who knows you would be worried,” you say before you can think twice about what it could mean.

Leigh's laugh is sharp, cutting. “You don't know me,” she throws back.

“Yeah, I don’t,” you mumble to yourself. You wish you did, so you could fix this.

Leigh’s anger doesn’t let up. “You know what I think? You're playing the good Samaritan to scrub off your guilt. But not knowing Matt was married? That's on you. I bet you never asked too many questions because you wanted him to be Mr. Perfect—single, ready to mingle, the dream guy.”

Opening your mouth to argue, you find yourself at a loss. Leigh’s not entirely wrong. With Matt, you were in a bubble, caught up in the thrill of meeting someone who seemed so right, so honest. You clung to his every word, wanting to believe in this image of him you'd built up.

The truth is, you never wanted to meet Leigh Shaw; you wanted to believe Matt's only fault was how he ended things with you, by disappearing.

But before you can admit to all of that, Leigh is already storming off. You think about chasing after her, but she spins around so fast at your footsteps, shooting you a threatening look and a low, “Stop following me,” that nails you to the ground.

You keep staring at the spot she disappeared from, long after she's gone, wondering why Matt felt the need to find love elsewhere.

Leigh goes home, but not to an empty house. The second she opens the door, Visitor bounds into her arms, full of wiggles and wet nose kisses. Her mom's off somewhere, doing who knows what—Leigh's stopped trying to figure out where or why. Meanwhile, her phone buzzes with a string of voicemails from Jules, but Leigh's not in the mood to dive into those just yet. She decides they can wait till morning, along with the other missed calls and unread messages from strangers, asking for more information on Visitor.

For now, she peels off her socks and pants, leaving them scattered carelessly up the stairs before passing out on her bed.

Visitor’s follow-up check-up rolls around way too quickly for comfort. The moment Leigh steps through the clinic door with the dog in tow, you can practically cut the tension with a knife. Leigh's trying to keep it together, but her attempts at civility are imbued with a coldness that can’t be ignored.

With only a small ‘good morning’ from you and a nod from Leigh, you start the consultation, knowing you’d be doing her a favor if you just get right to it.

“How's Visitor been eating?” you ask as you work your stethoscope.

“He eats fine,” Leigh drawls.

You nod, jotting down a note before moving on, “And his activity levels? Any changes there?”

Leigh’s response comes laced with sarcasm.

“Oh, he's just peachy. Running marathons every morning.”

You clear your throat, trying to rein in your mounting annoyance at her childish behavior. “I'm just trying to get a complete picture,” you say.

But Leigh's not having any of it. Her comments grow sharper, her patience thinning, and it's clear she's more interested in taking jabs at you than discussing her dog's health.

Her last sarcastic remark has you drawing the line. “Leigh, you can be upset with me all you want outside of this clinic, but I won't tolerate disrespect while I'm trying to do my job,” you say evenly. “You're welcome to find another vet if you can't keep this professional. I have every right to refuse service if this continues. It's not what I want, but I'm not about to let you treat me any less professionally.”

Leigh goes quiet, yet she keeps her eyes locked on yours, decidedly not backing down. Then, after a tense moment, she mutters a single word, “Sorry.” It's not much, but it's something, and you decide to take it and move on.

“You mentioned something about a blood sample?” Leigh says, steering the conversation back to the reason she came in, and you're all for following her lead on this.

“Yeah, we need to check if his platelets are up and his infections are down, see if the meds are doing their job,” you explain. Then, veering a bit from standard procedure, you add, “Since this is a follow-up visit, I'm going to cut the lab test price in half for you.”

The discount evidently lifts her mood. It's not a perfect truce, but it's enough to get through the examination without any more barbs.

A while later, you're back with Visitor's CBC results in hand. “The infection's gone down, but it's still borderline,” you report, showing her the numbers. “We'll need to keep him on the medication for another week. And I'm adding some multivitamins and a specific diet to his regimen.”

You scribble down the details, then note at the bottom of the pad about the discount—not just for the lab test, but for the prescriptions too.

Leigh takes the paper, scanning the details before her eyes finally meet yours. “Thank you,” she says, her voice softer than it's been.

“You’re welcome,” you reply with a smile before going back to your notebook, looking deep in thought.

Leigh feels like you're back to your usual, friendly self. Yet she thinks she prefers the more raw, unfiltered version of you. The version that called her out earlier. These days, she's starving for that kind of honesty. Because having her as your client can’t be all that pleasurable. She's aware of how challenging she's been, and the straightforwardness somehow makes her feel more understood, more seen.

She wishes people would stop seeing her as Leigh: the one with the dead husband.

Then, out of nowhere, she asks, “When did you start working here?”

It's a seemingly insignificant question, yet coming from Leigh, it prompts you to close your notebook and focus entirely on her.

“I—”

“Because a year ago, I remember meeting a different doctor,” Leigh adds, absentmindedly running her fingers through Visitor’s coarse hair as he sleeps on her lap.

“You’ve been here before?”

It’s a painful memory—one that still sometimes brings tears to her eyes whenever it crosses her mind. Back then, the clinic bore a different name, and she and Matt had come together to say goodbye to Rogue.

“I have when it was still called Palm Coast,” she says.

You nod, understanding the context now. “Yeah, that was before my time. I bought this clinic on a whim after spending a few years practicing in Dubai.”

While most would latch onto the tidbit about your intriguing career history, Leigh zeros in on something else entirely, asking directly, “When did Matt start coming here?”

You shift uncomfortably at her question, and Leigh immediately regrets pushing too hard. She’s about to backtrack when you halt her apologies. “It’s okay. I’m open to talking about it, just not here,” you suggest. “How about over coffee?”

Leigh hesitates, then says, “Okay, let me just text my boss that I won't be able to lead the yoga class this morning.”

“It doesn’t have to be now. Tomorrow works,” you say.

Realizing her assumption, Leigh’s cheeks color slightly. “What time?”

Now it's your turn to feel a bit awkward. “Would 7 work? It's the only time I have before the clinic opens.”

“In the morning?” Leigh says again, making sure she heard you right.

You nod sheepishly in reply.

“Or we could maybe—”

“No, it's okay,” Leigh interrupts quickly. She's usually up before sunrise anyway; the only change would be trimming her morning run a bit. And for a one-time chat to get the answers she's after, she figures she can make such a small sacrifice.

–

“Are you sure you want to return Visitor to his real family?”

True to form, it's Jules who breaks the two-day-long sibling spat. It's usually her who tries to smooth things over with an apology, even on days when Leigh isn't exactly the easiest person to deal with. Her therapist keeps telling her not to always be the one to buckle, especially when she's the one who's been hurt, that Leigh should be the one to step up and make things right for a change.

But here she is, reaching out first, just like always—because waiting for Leigh to make the first move feels like waiting for snow in July.

“Oh, so you’re talking to me again?” Leigh says as if she's gearing up for another round of conflict rather than welcoming peace.

Jules ignores her and continues, “Have you actually tried to find Visitor's owners, or have you just kinda... kept him because it feels good to have him around?”

“So what if it feels good to have a dog who loves you and is loyal to you?”

Jules shakes her head in a condescending manner, which only serves to irritate Leigh further. As soon as her popcorn is done, she heads out of the kitchen, flops onto the couch, flips on the TV, and kicks her feet up on the coffee table. Jules follows her, opting to stand next to the TV, poised to yank the plug out if necessary.

“Leigh, you do understand that taking care of a dog isn't something to take lightly, right?” Jules starts, but she breaks off when the dog in question trots over, tail wagging, trying to coax Jules into picking him up.

Leigh acts like she hasn't heard a word, her eyes glued to the TV screen.

“I thought you'd learned something from what happened with Rogue—”

That hits a nerve. Leigh's quick to fire back, “Oh, and jumping into a serious relationship is super responsible, right? Especially when staying sober is part of the deal.”

Right after the words leave her mouth, Leigh regrets them deeply. She's painfully aware of Jules' long battle with alcoholism, a struggle that began in college and required more than a couple of tries before Jules could claim any sort of victory over her addiction. Leigh knows it's still a sore subject for Jules, still fighting her demons, making her comment unfairly harsh.

Though the retaliation didn’t come out of nowhere. Leigh caught Jules at the club, discreetly sipping a drink she swore off, and chose to keep quiet then to avoid causing a scene in front of Tommy. She had plans to bring it up later, but then her own slip-up with drinking, bailing on her date, and the fallout with Jules spiraled into one of their nastiest rows in a long while.

“Jules, I’m sorr—”

“Just save it, Leigh.”

Jules heads for the door, her hand clenched tight, barely hanging onto her emotions. Leigh feels the situation slipping further downhill, and she can't just stand back and watch things crumble even more. She's about to chase after Jules when the doorbell rings, stopping both of them cold.

But Jules doesn’t even bother with the door; instead, she veers off, storming upstairs with that telltale slam of her bedroom door echoing down. Leigh sighs, stuck in the aftermath, while Visitor starts barking at the door. Dragging her feet, Leigh heads over to open it, half-expecting another problem but hoping for a distraction.

Leigh definitely wasn't expecting Danny, and seeing him there, she gets the sinking feeling that this storm swirling around her isn’t going to blow over just yet.

#unbetad #my writing #my fic #elizabeth olsen x reader #elizabeth olsen #leigh shaw x reader #leigh shaw x female reader #leigh shaw #sorry for your loss au #leigh shaw x you #wanda maximoff x reader #wanda maximoff x you #sorry i had to tag wanda x reader for visibility

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chososchalupa · 2 months

Note

HII is it alr to ask for jealous ranpo x reader😭😭

Basically the reader has this friend and calls them "sweetheart" and stuff (like how alastor treats charlie idk if you watched that) and steals her attention, love you🔥

ofc! sorry this took so long to get to, i've had the worst writers block,, ilysm! Hope you enjoy <3

Pleasure to meet you

contents,, F!Reader x Ranpo, slightly toxic!Ranpo, splash of Hazbin Hotel references (watch it, its so good), fluffy ending <3 not proofread ofc

WC- 821

You sat in a booth at your favorite cafe listening to your boyfriend and coworkers laugh and talk loudly, nothing was out of the ordinary until you heard your name being called from a familiar voice. You spun your head around to see an old friend from your previous job giving you a bright smile. You quickly got up from your spot and ran over to wrap your arms around him.

“How have you been, dear?” He asked, wrapping his arms tightly around you.

“I’ve been great! This new job is really fun. I’ve made tons of friends and even-”

“A boyfriend, I see” He laughed, staring over your shoulder.

You looked over to see Ranpo glaring intensely at the two of you. You gave him a small smile before turning back around.

“He can get a little jealous sometimes. Come on, I’ll introduce you” You smiled, dragging him with you back to your table. “This is Dazai, Yosano and last but certainly not least, this is my boyfriend, Ranpo”

Your friend gave a smile to everyone before going to shake Ranpos hand, “Pleasure to meet you”

Ranpo gave a fake smile, “Quite”

Your friend gave a small chuckle before looking back to you, “I must get going now but we should get together if you’re free this evening?”

You agreed and gave another small hug before waving goodbye and sitting back in your seat besides Ranpo.

“Well he seems pleasant” Dazai smiled

“Oh yeah. He seems great” Ranpo muttered, his words dripping with sarcasm.

You rolled your eyes at his pettiness before excusing yourself, “I have to get back to the office. Kunikida has been blowing up my phone about an unfinished report.”

・❥・

You assumed Ranpo would be back to normal by the time he made his way back to the office, but you were incredibly mistaken. Despite his fake smiles, he would barely speak a word to you.

“Did I do something wrong?” You asked, stepping into the elevator beside him at the end of the day.

“No” He responded, keeping his responses as short as possible.

The walk home was silent, the only sounds being your soft footsteps and Ranpo sighing, clearly trying to show he was upset without actually saying it.

Once you both were inside your home, you spun around to look up at him with your arms crossed.

“Yes?” He asked, his emerald eyes staring down at you.

“Why do you keep pouting? Ever since I saw my old friend you’ve been acting jealous!”

“Did you ever think maybe I am jealous?” He asked, blinking slowly.

Your eyes widened, “Of what?!”

“I don’t like him” He responded, as if it were the most obvious thing in the world.

“Why?”

“He’s tall, he’s handsome. You clearly enjoy being around him. I just don’t want him to take you from me and he’s trying to!” Ranpo explained, his bottom lip jutting out in a small pout as he finished speaking.

“He’s certainly not trying to take me from you, my love. I promise”

“Yeah? And how do I know that?”

“Because Ranpo, He-” You started but were instantly cut off by your cell phone ringing.

Ranpo looked down at the caller ID before scoffing, “Of course” he sighed, seeing your friend from earlier calling.

You glared at him before answering the phone on speaker,

“Hello, darling!” He started, causing Ranpo to glare towards your phone. “I unfortunately have to cancel our plans tonight, something has come up with work” You glanced up to your boyfriend, seeing a small smile form on his lips, “But I would love to invite you and Ranpo over for tea this week. My partner and I would love to have you”

You watched as the color drained from Ranpo’s face, causing you to let out a small giggle, “We would love to! I miss both of you”

“Wonderful! I will message you when we have a set time. It was lovely seeing you today”

You quickly finished up your conversation, hanging up the phone and glancing back towards Ranpo.

“As I was saying, he already has a partner. And even if he didn’t, I will only ever love you. You make me happier than any person on this earth” You smiled, hugging your boyfriend tightly as he sighed.

“I’m sorry I was wrong. I didn’t mean to get so jealous” He spoke, pulling you tighter to his chest.

“You were what? Could you say that again?”

“No.” He replied with a small laugh. “Can we go cuddle?”

“Of course,” You smiled, pulling away from the hug. “I’ll get snacks, Go put on a movie”

Ranpos eyes lit up, “I love you so much” He spoke, kissing your forehead before turning towards the living room to put on a movie.

You smiled as you watched him walk away, you felt so lucky to have him, even if he was an idiot sometimes.

#bungo stray dogs #bungo stray dogs imagine #bungo stray dogs x reader #bsd x reader #bsd fluff #bungo stray dogs fluff #ranpo x reader #ranpo edogawa #ranpo fluff #bsd ranpo

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booksndpoetry · 6 days

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Chapter One: Meet-Cute

a/n: This was not the fic I was hoping to publish and I don't know what this is (it's a mess). I might make more if you encourage me.

wc: 2.4k words

pairing: art mogul! Hyunjin X writer! Reader

tags: friends to ??, reconciliation, use of cheesy epithets, me trying to write slow burn.

genre: a pinch of angst, fluff

triggers/warnings: Whatever this is, it is not good. Read at your own risk.

Ten.

No, not Ten from NCT.

Just ten more minutes until you could excuse yourself for the evening and it wouldn’t seem suspicious.

You take in deep breaths and try not to make eye contact with anyone lest they try to make conversation with you. You were deliberately dressed discreetly for the same purpose too. Baggy jeans, vulcanized sneakers, a white shirt with a logo you’ve never bothered to investigate, and a pin on your braided hair. You were sure you looked like you didn’t belong, and you felt it too.

Being a bestselling author has its perks, your editor had told you, her voice tinged with something like awe when your book sales had skyrocketed. You thought it meant that more people would leave you alone to write. Though, to your dismay, it meant events held at ridiculously expensive hotels, with overpriced champagne and people at every corner trying to please you so they got a favour out of you.

It should be pretty obvious in your behaviour that you hate these events. You weren’t even a good actor. Although, knowing your agent, she probably set you up to meet your next best sponsor or another journalist who would try to get an interview with you.

The more you thought, the more you tensed up. Checking your watch for the umpteenth time that evening, you let out a ragged breath. Eight more minutes until your freedom.

Or maybe not, you think when you see Frank, the editor-in-chief for [famous magazine name] making his way towards you. Frank was known to be relentless with his requests and you were cemented about the fact with your experience in his studio.

“Hello Miss, how’ve you been doing since I last saw you?”

You hold your hands behind your back, not fooled by his polite façade.

“Good. How about you Mr. Frank?”

“Good, good.” He nods his head, more to himself than you. “Great weather today, innit?”

The sky was pretty magnificent today. The event was being held on one of the top floors of a famous hotel, and the large glass windows were set perfectly to watch the sky. The sky was a cerulean blue, with streaks of pink and orange, like the trails were smeared by the tiny fingers of a child, bold and [synonym for pretty] in their forms.

“Truly.”

He chuckles again, “Always a person of a few words, Miss ‘Name’. Although, can I hear them?” There it was, the unspoken request. He would once again wear you down trying to convince you to spare some time for an interview and a magazine shoot, and you would have to refuse again. You hated refusing, as much as you had to do it, and you didn’t like people who took no for an answer.

You simply take a step back, as if a physical distance would help you say the words easier.

“I’m afraid not, Mr. Frank. I have an impending project and I don’t want to distract myself. Maybe next time.” You offer him a weak smile, trying not to let your grimace show. You were bad at this.

He simply waves you off, expression more sombre than it had been seconds ago, and your heart drops. You had disappointed him. You seemed to be doing that a lot lately.

Unable to stand being there any longer, you rush past the faceless bodies, feeling the need to go away, to run away somewhere.

You go down the elevator and text your agent.

<<Attendance: done.

You silence the device and pocket it, finally reaching the lobby of the hotel. You swear not to stay in the damn hotel for any second longer, but the universe gives you another reason.

Luckily, it’s in the form of someone familiar. Unluckily, it belonged to your best friend you hadn’t seen in seven years.

Hwang Hyunjin.

You trip in the middle of the lobby.

Hyunjin hadn’t known what to expect that evening. He had been offered an invitation, just like any other month. He was unsure about whether he had to attend the event. After all, he had a business to run. But after one of his clients had finished the meeting early, some deal about an upcoming art exhibition place, he was having second thoughts. But some part of him had insisted on his attendance, as he’d heard that one of his favourite artists would be coming, and that’s how he found himself at the entrance of the skyscraper.

What he absolutely did not expect was to see you, standing right in front of him. Until you tripped, and he couldn’t help his laughter.

You quickly get up and pretend to inspect your shoes for any indication of dust. Damn five-star hotels and their extremely slippery granite floors. For what purpose were they made so smooth and shiny? For one to see their reflection when they faceplanted there?

Hyunjin’s still laughing lightly when he comes near you.

“You okay?” he asks, concerned. You hear his voice, and it is still the same smooth tone, albeit deeper. You missed that voice. But the way he speaks, polite yet guarded, you think that maybe he doesn’t recognize you.

“You haven’t changed one bit. Still tripping down flat surfaces, Miss Writer?”

And he proves your assumption wrong. You frown at how easily he can annoy you with just the sight of his stupid face, handsome or not.

Your lips straighten themselves into a thin line, and he remembers why he’d teased you countless times when you were younger. You were adorable when you attempted to look angry, like a tiger cub trying to sulk. He smiles, eyes taking you in again.

“You haven’t changed either. You laughed at me when I fell!”

That wasn’t true. He had changed, in more ways than one. Time had carved him beautifully, with elegant lines and soft beauty, evident on his face. And he was no longer Hyun, your best friend. He was Hwang Hyunjin, the rising art mogul, and founder of the famous ‘Hwang Designers.’ The man sought after by rich men and women alike.

The laugh he’d been subduing comes out in full force once again at the memory, and he clutches his jacket. For a moment, he’s your Hyunjin again.

You hit him on the shoulder, and he stops laughing.

“I haven’t seen you for seven years and this is how you greet me?”

He sobers up quickly. He knew he had to apologize, sooner or later. He decides to do it now.

“Ice cream?” he asks.

“Butter-scotch and Strawberry?”

“Yes. It’ll be just like old times.”

“Deal.”

When the both of you walk out the set of doors, you don’t look back at the gigantic building and to your surprise, neither does he.

The both of you stumble into his car, a spacious Audi, and he puts the car in reverse. It reminds you of the countless things you’ve missed. Like the first time he learnt how to drive. It saddens you a little, and he notices.

“The nearest dessert place is pretty far. You sure about this?” He wanted to make sure he wasn’t intruding on your schedule.

“I’m sure, Hyun. Now, let’s go.” You punctuate your statement with impatient slaps on the centre console. He chuckles, starting the car.

Once on the road, he thinks back on your words earlier. You had called him Hyun, after such a long time. He’d been called a lot of things, but he thought this epithet was something he wanted to keep being called. It’s a physical entity of your friendship, showing how it is still intact. And he feels like he’s sixteen again, sitting with you on your rooftop, as your shoulders brush. Like nothing has changed.

He drives past trucks and numerous cars, taking turns until the roads are empty.

You roll the windows down, and let the wind flow between your tresses.

The cool air feels heavenly against your burning skin. You close your eyes just as a strong gust of wind blows. You lean against the rails of the windows. It felt like freedom, like being alive at last.

Hyunjin watches you intently, eyes flickering between you and the road. It had been so long since he’d seen you, and he physically could not keep his eyes off you. He still remembers the mole above your left eye, the numerous dimples on your cheeks and the little bump on your nose bridge. He’s dreamt about it every day you’ve been apart, to be honest, but now was not the time.

Driving through empty highways at night was not how he envisioned his reunion with you, but there you were.

“Do you want to go somewhere in particular?” he asks you, voice soft, in that same tone he used to talk to you.

“Just keep driving, please” you swallow thickly. You didn’t want to return to your reality, not yet.

He nods once, then “Shall I take you somewhere? You’ll like it, I promise. Unless you don’t want to.”

You hesitate, then “Okay. I trust that you won’t get rid of me.”

He rolls his eyes, “Come on, ----- you should know me better than that. I would’ve done it already if I wanted to.”

You huff, “And here I thought you wouldn’t even dream of it.”

He just smirks and shifts the gear, speeding up.

“Slow down, I don’t want to die yet.”

He side-eyes you, “I’m not getting you killed, darling” He slows down anyway.

You feel yourself flushing because of that word. This was new. The Hyunjin you knew always called you silly names, but not this. This was different, mature. The tone of his voice was suddenly deeper.

No, no.

This was Hyunjin you were talking about.

He was your friend years ago, and you have yet to determine what he is to you. You will not be having such thoughts. Shaking your head, you lean back in your seat, when he stops the car. He’s brought you to the spot near the bridge, overlooking the river reflecting the city lights. You get out of the car and he leans against the hood with you, simply watching the scene before you.

It’s beautiful, the vast cityscape, stretching along the length of the river. The flashing lights dance over the waterbody like stars twinkling over the Milky Way. It feels so grandiose. But, you know that despite it looking so enigmatic, it is not so glamorous in reality. And the sudden weight of the expectations of others weighs down on you, all at once.

The distress must have shown on your face, because he stands in front of you, holding your face like he used to do when you were upset.

“Hey, what’s wrong?”

He’s wiping your face, and you realize you’ve been crying.

“Nothing.”

“You know you can tell me anything.”

“I thought I could, until you went away to another corner of the world, leaving me behind.”

He flinches a little at the words. It’s true, he did leave you behind. It’s time he owns up to it.

“I’m sorry, ----. We were going to be far apart, and you and I were still young. I’m thankful for our friendship, but I thought that we could leave it behind. To revisit it one day, if we wanted to. I didn’t want to burden you with a friendship so pressing with its demands just to keep it alive. I thought I gave you a choice. Nonetheless, I’m sorry I didn’t contact you. I wanted to, but each year held me back when you’d gone years without speaking to me. But I believed I was still your friend,” he bends down and holds your hand. “I thought we’d survive despite not a single word being exchanged between us. And I know I’m right. But please be upset, I don’t like you being upset with me.”

You hold his hand, fingers curling around his wrist.

“I’m not mad at you, I understand. Maybe not then, but I do now.”

You give him a genuine smile, and his heart soars.

“So now, you’re back to being my best friend, no takebacks. Or I’ll knock you out.”

“Woah, ease up there. It’s been barely five seconds since we’ve made up and you’re already threatening me?”

“Like I said, I’ll knock you out.”

He immediately moves away from you, hands positioned in a poor imitation of some jiujitsu pose you know he has no idea about.

And you laugh, a childish sound coming from your mouth. He sees you, head thrown back and he feels his lips curling upwards.

You stay there for what feels like hours, catching up. He teases you and you threaten him, and he makes you laugh. You forget the ice cream. It feels just like old times.

When it gets darker, Hyunjin drops you off at your home after saving your number, with promises to meet you tomorrow. You wave him off, beaming.

Later, you stumble into bed with a heavy heart, sad that the evening had ended so soon. You know you won’t get any sleep, and yet you try. When you finally feel like you’re dozing off, your phone vibrates with a notification. Cursing whoever decided to message you without your permission (how dare they, when you were just about to fall asleep?) you unlock it to see a message from an unknown number.

>>>See you tomorrow, Miss Writer.

You smile and type something to send him too.

<<<See you tomorrow, Mr. Hwang.

And he’s the one who’s kicking his feet when he receives your message.

Labels: @straykidsland

© booksndpoetry 2024. All rights reserved. Please do not plagiarise, translate, repost or steal my works in any way. All idols used in this piece are just inspiration to characters. They do not reflect the real people in any way.

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the-scooby-gang · 1 year

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Character assassination and delayed puberty: VelmaHBO mishandling of Fred Jones

As I write the "I watched Velma HBO so you don't have too" reviews for episode 1 and 2, I decided to post this thought process I had regarding Fred's mischaracterization and, specifically, about the choice of giving him delayed puberty.

In the show, Mindy Kaling's self insert (because that ain't Velma in this or in the next life) comes to the conclusion that Fred is such a "spoiled white privileged brat" that his body didn't see the point of growing up at all.

First of all: Fuck that

Second of all: Whose brilliant idea (we all know who, but lets pretend for a second here) was it to turn FRED JONES: cheerleader; net lover; circus enjoyer; himbo friend; golden retriever sunshine boy and "I love my friends and my van so much you guys" into THIS?!?!

Is it because he is white, blond and has blue eyes???? Because it would be easy to make him into a caricature of white supremacy???

Yes. That's exactly why they changed Fred. Because it was easy.

I will go deeper on this in the full review of episode 1 and 2 (god help me) but this whole show is written in the most lazy way possible with jokes that would have fit perfectly in a edgy early 2000s show, where characters become those straw men versions of liberals conservatives IMAGINE exist.

Where people of color complain all the time about white supremacy but don't go deeper into it, its just complaining for the sake of complaining;

Where they bring genuine arguments people make but with zero nuance or though behind them, instead the writers put what THEY imagine it is about and, 99.9% of the time, they attribute it to people being "tOo sEnSiTiVe" and " tRiGgErEd SnOwFlAkEs"

Where people blow things out of proportion and accuse people left and right of being fascists (when they call Fred "Hitler" the background character says "he looks like Hitler. And I'm not just saying that because we call anyone Hitler nowadays") completely disregarding the WHY people in real life are calling out fascist behavior when they see it. Hello rise of fascism happening on the world, how is the INVASION OF CAPITOL IN AMERICA and THE INVASION AND DEPREDATION OF THE PLANALTO IN BRAZIL going for you?!;

This show is Family Guy. I would say it's worse than Family Guy even.

Third of all: Delayed puberty is an Actual Thing That Happens To People. It's something that can happen at random or it can be a genetic disorder shared in the family. It can be a symptom of something way more serious or something benign.

Many people that suffer from delayed puberty suffer from low self esteem because they have to watch their friends grow and develop when the same thing's not happening to them. They may feel like they're never going to catch up.

People are bullied over this, people develop depression.

And now these people are the punch line of this mean spirited joke.

I can even envision a better show where Fred still has delayed puberty, but instead of being the butt of jokes where people keep commenting on the size of the penis of this HIGH SCHOOLER, they treat as the constitutional delay it is. Fred is a late bloomer. It may be caused by a pattern of growth and development in his family, it may be a chronic illnesses he has. Can you imagine Fred with something like asthma or diabetes?

Lets go with that, lets imagine a Fred with diabetes, who is not receiving a proper treatment for said diabetes (maybe because his parents subscribe to that style of parenting where they are more concerned about appearances than the well being of their kid. "No, he has no problem. He is a perfectly healthy Jones."

Or they are the kind that say shit like this: "He doesn't have blurry vision he is just a lazy student, that's an excuse," or "You would stop going so much to the bathroom to piss if you stoped drinking water all the time" or even "I told you to not stay awake all night on those weird net making websites, now you're tired in class. What kind of mother they must think I am..." "But I didn't stay up all night, I swear–" "Don't you lie to me Frederick") and as such the side effects and symptoms are left unchecked.

So the Fred Velma, and we the audience, are introduced too is the heir of this fortune... who can't stay standing because he is constantly tired, has completely given up on trying to apply himself on school because he can't see the fucking board his vision is so blurry, has passed out at least once in gym, drinks water like he lives in a dessert and is so self conscious about his body that even his girlfriend hasn't seen him shirtless even once. The swim team hasn't seen him shirtless even once, so there are these whiplash inducing photos in the year book where is a bunch of guys in speedos nest to this one dude in an early 20th century striped swimming suit.

In episode 1 itself Velma's vision of Fred can start biased, after all from a distance a person that doesn't know Fred personally can chalk his behavior to "rich dramatic boy that knows he doesn't need to put effort into learning since he already has a fortune guaranteed for him after all this, so he is just sleeping and vibing and being dramatic through high school" but as the episode progresses and she gets to know Fred, she notices that the image doesn't fit. Fred, who has such in depth knowledge about physics and mechanics, who clearly loves his girlfriend very much and feels bad about the murder of this girl he considered a friend. The image of "Rich guy that doesn't care" is not fitting.

I want it to be a Velma and Daphne epiphany. About Daphne talking about all these things Fred has told her or that she noticed about him to Velma as they look for clues and it hits Velma as a she connects all together. The tiredness, the pissing, the thirst, the blurry vision.

Daphne may have not seen it because she is too close but with Velma's outside perspective the pieces fall into place.

Now lets imagine that instead of cop lesbian moms, Daphne could have lesbian doctor/nurse moms. They take him to them and they give him what he desperately needed:

"No, dear. You're not lazy, or broken, or an attention seeker, or any other bullshit your parents called you. You have diabetes. Type 1 to be precise."

After Daphne and Velma hug a crying Fred until he has no more tears to give, the series progresses with Fred now treating his diabetes as one of its recurring plot lines.

I want Daphne to have extra insulin in her purse, I want Shaggy to help Fred with his new diet, I want Fred and Velma to go exercising together and have deep conversations about body image and how they deal with it (Fred with his delayed puberty, Velma with her extra weight)

"Mature" and "Adult" content doesn't need to be edgy sex-violence-and-drugs.

It can be simply a story of a high schooler having to deal with diabetes in a country were insulin is expensive as fuck, some parents are more willing to let their kids suffer than offer any kind of help or even admit that there may be a problem in the first place, of dealing with body image and things that are out of your control.

Just a thought.

This is a post by The-Scooby-Gang, thanks for coming to my TED Talk.

#scooby gang #scooby doo #hbo velma #fred jones #velma dinkley #daphne blake #shaggy rogers #velma by me #this also applies to my rewrite ideas for this show #i watched velma hbo so you dont have too #gih says #long post

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helpallthenamesaretakenblog · 4 months

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E👏P👏I👏S👏O👏D👏E SEVENNNN

We just started off with percy walking his way into crusty’s place like woah hold there buddy we’re starting quickly

the set is so pretty and colourful why couldnt everything else be like them ahem ahem waterland cough cough

Why do they know everything already 😭they’re really taking out the middle school cluelessness out of everyone in this show and its making me mad sometimes

What do you MEAN he casually has an entrance to the underworld?

walker’s acting was rlly good in this ep btw

The whole bed scene was so anticlimactic and quick STOP

”youre lucky we let you keep your head on” YEAH WELL SO IS DISNEY

grover just walking in like is it over now?? DISNEY I BEG OF YOU LET GROVER DO SOMETHING

grover’s squeaky ball to calm himself down😭 🥺

Sally and percy angst was not on my bingo card but here we are

WHEN YOU HAVE NO CHOICE BUT TO KEEP HURTING EACH OTHER 😭😭

That transition was neat

wow what a well lit underworld dayum

its confirmed percy and annabeth watched that movie

“Only suckers wait in line” savage

rip ‘we drowned in a bathtub’ hello ‘everyone is dying to some extent’

i dont know if its just me but i feel like the jokes and the humour of the show was more aligned to its pjo adult fans, rather than the books, which rick included middle school humor because that was what the initial audience was. I mean removing the fun of the lotus casino and replacing it with a scene of percy driving a car (which is an activity adults do) and the dying on the inside is something only adults in their quarter life crisis complain about

Idk it doesnt feel like annabeth is scratching cerberus because she genuinely likes dogs, it feels like more of a strategical move which i am not the happiest about BECAUSE I WANT SOFT ANNABETH

squeak squeak

PERCY PULLING ANNABETH UP FROM A CLIFF

”excuse me” i love how professional she is

i read so many fanfics and theories on how the fourth pearl would go missing?? And grover lost it??? Thats it???

I hate that principal why are you taking something a 10 year old said and say he needs ‘psychological monitoring’?? Hon he drew a horsie with wings that he claimed he saw, he doesnt need to go to a psych ward or therapy or something

but imagine percy hearing this in the other room🥺

I feel like all of them have a reason to get rooted and stuff in asphodel but its apparently only annabeth so

not grover seeing two of his friends turning into trees🥺

Idk grover’s not that emotional at all about anything?? Hes supposed to be scared and on the verge of tears 24/7? Not aryans fault just the writers

ANNABETH STRESSING ON THE FACT THAT THEY NEED TO SAVE PERCYS MOM TOO 🥹

Percy rlly just said “periodt💅”

They really copy pasted hades from the musical why is no one talking about that?

walker’s acting>>>>>

why are you trying so hard to get rid of me 🥺

THE WHOLE SALLY AND POSEIDON SCENE 😭 NO SALLY U ARE NOT FAILING

I love the fact that percy’s still chilling there

I WAS ACTUALLY EXPECTING POSEIDON TO GO ACT AS A WAITER TO TALK TO PERCY LOLL

what do you mean they have to find the helm too???

why no one help grover up??

poseidons speech as percy gets up and looks at ares is peak cinema

#General thoughts: its not as cramped as i thought it would be thankfully #But still there was so much going on #percy jackson #rick riordan #pjo fandom #annabeth chase #percabeth #pjo #heroes of olympus #pjo tv show #pjo tv series #percy jackon and the olympians #percy and grover #percy pjo #percy series #percy and annabeth #annabeth #grover

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burningvelvet · 5 days

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Lord Byron responds to a fan letter from a woman named Harriette Wilson who was interested in befriending him, 1814:

“If my silence has hurt ‘your pride or your feelings’, to use your own expressions, I am very sorry for it; be assured that such effect was far from my intention. Business, and some little bustle attendant on changing my residence, prevented me from thanking you for your letter as soon as I ought to have done. If my thanks do not displease you, now, pray accept them. I could not feel otherwise than obliged by the desire of a stranger to make my acquaintance.

I am not unacquainted with your name or your beauty, and I have heard much of your talents; but I am not the person whom you would like, either as a lover or a friend. I did not, and do not 'suspect you,' to use your own words once more, of any design of making love to me. I know myself well enough to acquit anyone who does not know me, and still more those who do, from any such intention. I am not of a nature to be loved, and so far, luckily for myself, I have no wish to be so. In saying this, I do not mean to affect any particular stoicism, and may possibly, at one time or other, have been liable to those follies, for which you sarcastically tell me I have now no time: but these, and everything else, are to me at present objects of indifference; and this is a good deal to say, at six-and-twenty. You tell me that you wished to know me better; because you liked my writing. I think you must be aware that a writer is in general very different from his productions, and always disappoints those who expect to find in him qualities more agreeable than those of others; I shall certainly not be lessened in my vanity, as a scribbler, by the reflection that a work of mine has given you pleasure; and, to preserve the impression in its favour, I will not risk your good opinion by inflicting my acquaintance upon you.

Very truly your obliged servant, B.”

From the Memoirs of Harriette Wilson, discussing the letter:

"I had long been sentimentally in love with Lord Byron, and some years previous to the publication of the last canto of "Childe Harold," I had written to him to solicit the honour of his acquaintance.

"If, my lord," said I, in my letter, "to have been cold and indifferent to every other modern poet, while I have passed whole nights in studying your productions with the eagerness of one who has discovered a new source of enjoyment as surprising as it was delightful, deserves gratitude from the vanity of an author, or the gallantry of a gentleman, you will honour me with a little of your friendship."

Would you believe, reader, this eloquent epistle obtained me no answer during three long days? I was furious, and wrote again to tell him that he was a mere pedant; that my common sense was a match for his fine rhymes; that the best of us poor weak mortals—and I acknowledged him to be at the head of the list—must still be ignorant, subject to sickness, ill-temper, and various errors in judgment, therefore was there little excuse for his impertinence, in presuming to find fault with the whole world, as he had done in his "English Bards and Scotch Reviewers," at an age when his natural judgment could not be matured. It was vulgar, and showed the littleness which some want of philanthropy towards our poor fellow creatures always must evince. Was he really so superior, and would he crush the poor worms which dared not aspire to his perfections? Or was he but a mere upstart man, of extraordinary genius, without strength of mind to know what he would be at? Could he not, at least, have declined the honour I wanted to confer on him, civilly?

This eloquent letter ended simply thus, after assuring him that it was now much too late to make my acquaintance, as I had changed my mind and no longer desired it the least in the world—like the fox and the grapes—

"you be hang'd!

"HARRIETTE WILSON."

This, to a favourite, was tolerably severe; but when I take a liking to a person I must and will be something to them; so if they will not like me I always make it my business and peculiar care that they shall dislike and quarrel with me. Let me once get them into a quarrel and I am sure of them.

The next day I received the following answer from Lord Byron, dated Albany, Piccadilly.

[Letter from Byron inserted above]

This was very dry; but, I had not aspired to Lord Byron's love and I did not despair of making his acquaintance. I am indeed surprised that I never fell in love with his lordship; but, certain it is, that, though I would have given anything to have been his most humble friend and servant, his beauty was of a nature never to inspire me with warmer sentiments.

There was nothing whatever voluptuous in the character of it; it was wholly intellectual: and as such I honoured it; but give me for my lover an indolent being who, while he possesses talents and genius to do anything he pleases, pleases himself most and best in pleasing me! Au reste, I admire and look up to heroes, but indolent men make the best lovers.

I was a long while before I could convince Lord Byron that as a lover he would never have suited me; and really did not excite any passion in my breast; but, from the moment I had succeeded, his lordship threw off all reserve and wrote and spoke to me with the confidence of easy friendship and good-will, as though he had been delighted to find a woman capable of friendship, to whose vanity it was not at all necessary to administer by saying soft things to her."

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yumikitten · 8 months

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Things were going from good to bad in the blink of an eye. You'd been given a job offer you couldn't possibly refuse—one that paid better than the job you were currently at—but you'd need to relocate for it. And Noah was going to absolutely rage at knowing you'd be moving away from him. The two of you had been inseparable for the past ten years now, one always moving with the other.

You felt a slight panic as soon as you'd gotten off the phone with the hiring manager. Even though you knew you should take it, there was still one thing holding you back: Noah. The feelings you had for him had only grown with each passing day over the last decade, but how long were you supposed to follow him? At some point, you rationalized, you'd need to grow up and start thinking for yourself. If nothing had happened with you two in the last ten years, nothing was bound to at this point.

Still, there was that niggling feeling in the back of your mind that remained hoping something would eventually spark. Which is was part of the reason why your anxiety was slowly reaching its limit. That, and because Noah was always close by for anything. It would be like losing part of yourself with the move.

You needed a ride to work? He was there within ten minutes to take you.

Your garbage disposal stopped working? He fixed it for you the same day.

You were having an off day? Noah was sure to bring over your favorite snacks and watch your favorite movies to help perk you up.

No matter what the circumstance was, Noah was always there by your side. And it wasn't like the relationship was one-sided. You'd had your fair share of helping him, too.

He lost his voice from tour? You were there with home remedies to help him.

He had writer's block? You'd tell him crazy stories to help spark his inspiration again.

He wanted to walk around the neighborhood at 2am to think? You'd drive over to walk with him so he wasn't alone.

So your panic wasn't all for nothing. Whatever Noah did, you did too and vice versa. Just like him and Nick, you and znoah were your own package deal. At least until you moved.

If you moved, because you hadn't given an official answer yet. You knew that as soon as you told Noah, you'd gauge his reaction and let that make your decision for you. It was stupid to leave it up to someone else like that, let alone just with their reaction, but leaving him was just a huge as taking this job. Your breathing started to become shallow just thinking about it.

Looking to the time, you noticed you were five minutes late in leaving for dinner. Jolly wanted everyone to get dinner together at least once a month when they were home, and here you were trying to slow your breathing down. Honestly, you didn't know how you were going to school most of your expressions tonight, but you'd die trying if it meant you wouldn't cause a scene.

"No, I have to pull the Band-Aid off," you reasoned, knowing if you kept it to yourself any longer, it would only cause chaos. Besides, you told the hiring manager you'd call them with your answer by the end of the week and it was already Tuesday.

The boys were already prepping the grill by the time you showed up, earning an astonished glance from Folio.

"You're normally here before us, and we live here," he said with a chuckle, but your stomach was in knots. The drummer wasn't wrong in saying that, which only hurt you more. Even he knew how close you and Noah were; everyone knew.

"Y/N, are you feeling okay?" Nick asked gently, eyes searching yours to see if you were sick or anything.

"Mhm, yea. It's just been a weird day." You offered up a lame excuse, breathing in slowly to reign in your emotions.

"Do you need to talk about it?" Noah appeared from behind you, offering up a shooter glass that likely had whiskey in it to sip. Looking from the glass now in your hand to Noah, you had to make a quick decision. He was giving you a reason to tell him about this afternoon and all you had to do was take it. He was your best friend, he would understand, right? His eyes were filled with controlled concern, but you knew he wouldn't pester you if you weren't ready.

"Actually, yea. Can we really quick?" The words tumbled out of your mouth like vomit, Noah nodding and telling the guys you'd be back before the food was done. He led you to his room, shutting the door before sitting down at his desk. You had his full attention, and all you had to do was speak. Your nerves were starting to shoot through you painfully, the glass coming up to your mouth to drink the couple fingers of whiskey down completely.

"Woah, Y/N. What's going on?" This was a bad idea, you thought. You couldn't do this. What made you think you could do this? The whiskey burned through to your stomach, only making you feel more ill. "Hey, talk to me." Your eyes landed on Noah's again, the warmth of his tone bringing you back to reality.

"I um—have something to tell you. It's good, so there's no reason to freak out or anything." You finally said, but you know it was only half the truth.

"Okay, so why does it look like you're freaking out?" He laughed uneasily, clearly questioning why you seemed so rigid. Leave it to him to try and keep the atmosphere light.

"I got a job offer today and I'm thinking about taking it." You set the empty glass down on the nightstand so you could clasp your hands together. The nervousness was radiating off you in waves which was only sending weird signals to him.

"That's great news! Was it the one you were telling me about the other week? The one—"

"Yea, that one." You cut him off, even though he was genuinely so happy for you. Your heart was starting to crack little by little watching his pearly smile light up the room you were about to dampen. "They called me this afternoon, and I told them I'd give them an answer by the end of the week."

Now he seemed confused, his brows downturning and head cocking to the side. "You didn't tell them yes? Y/N, you've been waiting for something like that! Jump on it!"

Swallowing, you looked around his room. You remembered helping him move in when they got the place. Over time, he'd only added more and more to the white walls that used to be so blank. There was even a picture of the two of you celebrating your twenty-first birthday back home in Virginia. Just a couple years later, he was moving to Los Angeles and you followed him without a second thought.

"It is what I've been waiting for, but there's a couple things I need to think about first before accepting it." The alcohol was starting to make things a bit easier to talk about, Noah seemingly not understanding your vague choice of words.

"So, what. They won't match the pay? You have to wait a while for the start date? Whatever it is, you shouldn't sit on it. Take it; you've worked so hard and deserve it." Heat was building in your eyes from the unshed tears. Noah was being so supportive just like always, and all you could feel was guilt. His words were true. You had worked hard, you did deserve this chance. Yet there was still the one thing holding you back. Your one reason.

Shaking your head, eyes glistening by now, you finally told him, "The job is in Portland. I'd need to be there no later than the first of the month to start." That was only a couple weeks away, and you knew if you did accept the offer, you'd need to leave sooner to look for apartments in the area.

There was a wide range of emotions crossing Noah's face, all of them as clear as the last before he closed his eyes and smiled. He looked up from where he sat, blinking his eyes a few times. "And that's keeping you from answering? Y/N, this is an amazing opportunity for you."

Your heart was falling, but for a different reason now. This wasn't one of the mental scenarios you had come up with when you were running through them earlier. "It is, but Noah—I'd need to move."

He nodded, "Yea, but Portland isn't so bad, right? It isn't the cleanest anymore, but neither is LA. And it isn't like that's far, right? Just a quick plane ride." He was trying to reason with himself through trying to reason with you. His tone was calm, collected, and that only made you feel worse. Was he sad at all that you'd be leaving? That you wouldn't just be a car ride away anymore?

Did he care?

That question surfaced, and try as you might to shake it away, it still sat there demanding attention. You had been so worried to tell him, and for what? What did you expect was going to happen? That he would retaliate and beg you not to go? Your eyes sat on his still calm demeanor wondering if your friendship meant as much to him as it did to you. Well, at least you got your other answer; he didn't seem to have any hidden feelings for you like you did for him, which probably hurt a bit more.

"Was this why you were acting so damn squirrely?" He shook his head with humor, "let's get you another drink."

Instead of moving to follow him, you stood there mortified. Your stomach was churning, your nerves past their limits and all you wanted to do was curl up and hide from the world. Of course, Noah wasn't going to stop you from doing something you wanted. Of course, he'd support you. Of course, he'd want what he feels is best for you. The sir around you felt thick and heavy, as if it was beginning to weigh in you.

"I think—I think I'm gonna head home. I'm actually not feeling very well." It was hard to speak when you trying to hold back your tears.

"Can I get you anything?" His concern was back tenfold, his body standing in his doorframe. You hadn't even realized he'd opened the door.

Beg me to stay, you wanted to yell. But you shook your head, "No, my stomach is just kind of hurting. Guess I shouldn't have downed the whiskey." You laughed, but it was clearly fake. There was a panic attack rising and you just needed to go home to sort it all out. You moved past Noah, who was clearly still processing your answer, and made your way down the stairs to the front door.

"You're leaving already?" Jolly asked from the kitchen. It looked like they were done grilling, both Folio and Nick peering from around the corner to get a better look.

"I told you she didn't look well," Nick commented as Noah was walking down the last few steps toward you.

"Are you okay?" Jolly finally asked through the tension.

Smiling through the unshed tears, you nodded, "Yea, apparently I'm moving," you started to say, "I got offered a job and I'm moving to Portland."

"Y/N, what's wrong?" Noah's hands griped your arms gently, but his question felt like it was too loaded to answer. If you didn't leave now, you'd regret anything you'd have to say in an anxious rage. By now, the other three had stopped what they were doing to watch what was happening. You and Noah arguing let alone fighting in general wasn't something that happened often.

"I'm not feeling well, Noah. I'm heading home." Turning, you walked out the front door with your footfalls feeling heavier with each step you took.

As soon as you'd gotten home, you finally allowed your tears to fall. Looking around your apartment, you couldn't imagine trying to pack it up to move states. Least of all without your best friend. Your best friend who apparently didn't care if you left at all, the one who was only being supportive. He knew this job meant a lot to you, but what he wasn't aware of was how much more he meant to you. And you couldn't fault him for that. It wasn't like he could move with you like you did for him anyway. His job was here with the band. At some point, you knew you'd need to go your separate ways.

Your throat was burning as you groaned with anguish. How pitiful you felt by this turn of events. Honestly, you shouldn't have overthought this so damn hard. You ran out on dinner and away from Noah.

It had been a couple hours by the time you heard knocking on your door. The time was only nine at night, your phone long since been silenced so you could ease your mind and merely be. Maybe if you stayed in bed long enough, the person would assume you were either not home or asleep and just leave.

Another series of knocking had you getting out of bed. Throwing the door open, you saw Noah standing there in the clothes he had on earlier. His hair was in disarray and his eyes seemed red-rimmed like he'd been crying.

"You can't leave," he blurted out, his expression pleading with you.

"Why?" You moved so he could come in, closing the door behind him. "You said it yourself, I've been waiting for something like this. I'd be dumb not to." Your response was angrier than intended, but you weren't in the mental state to care right now.

"And that's true, and I know it's so fucking selfish of me, but you can't leave." His voice was rising, his eyes wild. This is what you wanted, so why were you fighting it so hard? He was telling you not to go, but somehow in your mind it was too late.

"You were so supportive of me earlier, so what changed?" You threw your hands up in anger.

"It doesn't matter as to why. What matters is none of us wants you to go!" He shouted back with the rising tension.

"It does matter!" You yelled back. "It fucking does, Noah! You can't just tell me to go and make it sound like it would be easy and then come over to tell me not to! So what the hell changed in the last two hours—"

"—because I fucking love you and can't stand the thought of you leaving me!" He screamed, veins popping out of his neck. You were speechless, utterly so as his eyes started to shine brighter in the dim lighting of your living room. "I can't stand the thought of you living so far away. And if it makes me the worst human on this planet to tell you to not take this job for my sake, then I guess I'm the fucking worst." You could hear the pain in his voice as his tone was starting to drop with emotion.

Your heart was pounding so hard you could hear the pulse in your ears. The tension was so thick around the two of you, it was amazing how you were still breathing. Noah said he loved you. It was something you'd only ever dreamed about saying to him but were so afraid of the outcome. Yet here he was laying it all out in front of you.

"You can't fucking go, Y/N. I know I've been so selfish—what with you moving here with me and always supporting me—but I can't just let you leave. Not without me pouring my heart out, anyway. If you don't feel the same, then forget it. It'll be like it never happened and we'll make it all work out. I'll help you move and get you settled—"

"Noah, shut up." You cut him off again, tears falling for a new reason now. How could you leave with hearing all of that? He remained quiet, watching you like he would truly let you leave if it was what you really wanted. But what you really wanted was right in front of you. "Why did it take us so long?" You began laughing, Noah's eyes widening at the change of tone.

"What?" He questioned seriously, unsure of what you were talking about.

"I told myself there was only one reason I'd stay, and it was if you asked me not to leave. When you didn't earlier, I gave up all hopes and that was that. I didn't think you'd ever tell me you loved me."

There was a blush running up the side of his neck as he grasped at what to say. "Listen, you don't need to make this decision purely because I told you not to go. This should be something you want."

"Noah, you don't get it." Now you were smiling, still sobbing here and there. "The one thing I've wanted for a while now is to hear you tell me you love me." Without a second thought you pulled him to you, your lips crashing against his like he was your lifeline. The astonishment seemed to pass quickly from Noah as he began kissing you back eagerly. His lips tasted of salt and rum; it was mildly addicting.

"Fuck, why did this take us so long?" He asked when he pulled away from you, forehead leaning against yours. "If you still want to go, I won't stop you. However, I'm not letting you leave without establishing whatever this is."

"Noah darling, I'm not leaving. Not just because you asked me not to, but because I can't stand the thought of leaving you behind."

#bad omens #bad omens cult #noah sebastian #noah sebastian x reader #noah sebastian and reader #bad omens imagine #noah sebastian imagine

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callsign-phoenix · 2 years

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I wrote this because of an idea I had, prompted by a conversation with the amazing @skvatnavle.

It is a Jake ‘Hangman’ Seresin x female!reader imagine.

Your callsign is ‘Swallow’, named after the bird.

Thank you so much @a-reader-and-a-writer for proofreading!

Warnings: yes I know the Navy would never allow such a callsign but for the purpose of this fic they do, slight verbal sexual harassment, smut (oral, male receiving), this fic is racially and body type inclusive despite the moodboard suggesting otherwise

You were Jake ‘Hangman’ Seresin’s favourite person in the entire Navy.

The two of you were always around each other, because you had both graduated in the same year, were both in the top 1% of aviators, and were in the same squadron.

It meant that you knew each other inside out, what the other loved and what the other hated, their small quirks and oddities, and you were entirely comfortable with each other.

Jake was an idiot but you liked it; he was the center of attention but he wasn’t self-centered in the way that he didn’t care what you thought.

You had spent years by his side which meant that he listened to you, in contrast to literally everyone else.

A part of that good relationship between the two of you was a relentless teasing that originated from your callsign.

You had received that callsign because you were very good at communicating over coms, knowing exactly what to say and what was important to tell the others that flew your mission.

One of your fellow aviators had suggested ‘Swallow’ because you were high in the sky, and because swallows were exceptional birds because of their extraordinary communication skills.

It had stuck with you but the moment Jake had heard it he had grinned widely, eyeing you up and down before starting a never-ending array of jokes.

When you had first gotten your callsign it had occasionally made you uncomfortable because a lot of the men had taken it the wrong way, but they had all miraculously stopped over time, looking at you with a sense of fear or respect you couldn’t explain.

The horrible jokes stopped entirely except for Jake who still made them, but in contrast to the others, he wore a warm smile and a twinkle in his eyes when he said so.

However the problem came up again when a new pilot was stationed with you, meeting all of you at a bar to share a drink and introduce yourselves.

The moment your callsign left your lips, he grinned at you and nodded his chin in your direction, the gleam in his eyes immediately making you uncomfortable.

You were sitting beside Jake who shifted in his seat as the newbie spoke up, making your anxiety heighten tenfold.

“And, do you swallow? You should come by my place sometime and show me,” he laughed while everyone else at the table was dead silent, staring at him with not even a hint of a smile on their faces.

You were uncomfortable to the point that you stood up to excuse yourself to the bathroom, taking a second to breathe before you returned to the table.

You couldn’t see Jake when you approached but your fellow aviators didn’t seem to notice you, inaugurating the newbie in how your world worked.

“You can’t joke around like that, dude. That’s Hangman’s girl you were talking to, and he’s known to rip your ass open if you say stuff like that,” one of your friends said, halting you in your tracks.

“When she first got her callsign, he threatened all of us and he kicked our asses when we didn’t listen,” he added.

You were breathless as you were about to sit back down, only to be stopped by a heavy hand on your arm.

When you turned around, you found Jake standing next to you, his face a lot more serious than you were used to.

“Can we talk?” he asked.

You nodded immediately, seeing that the topic was important to him.

He kept his hand on your arm as he gently pulled you outside, the fact that he was holding you was comforting on its own.

When you reached a spot far away from other people, he turned towards you, his eyes not leaving your face.

“Are you okay?” he asked you, but he didn’t accept when you nodded your head.

“You sure?” he added as you realised he was still holding you by your elbow.

“Are you?” you replied, cocking your head to the side as you watched his jaw clench in anger.

“It’s not okay to talk to you like that, birdie,” he said in such a soft voice that a small shiver ran down your spine.

He was the only one who was allowed to call you ‘birdie’, and it only happened on very rare occasions.

You chuckled as you heard his reply, remembering all the times he had done just that.

“You talk to me like that all the time, Jake,” you answered him with an irritated smile that he didn’t reciprocate.

“That’s different. It’s different because you’re comfortable with me,” he answered, which made your eyelids flutter.

You hadn’t thought about thinking about Jake in a romantic way, but how he was talking to you was making it incredibly hard not to.

You wet your lips as you realised how close he was standing to you.

“They said you beat them up back then, when they made their jokes,” you said, watching Jake’s reaction closely.

He grit his teeth, his eyes darting to the ground before he looked at you, nodding silently.

You were grateful for his protection but you didn’t know how to express it.

“The guys called me your girl,” you said breathlessly, your voice nothing more than a whisper.

Your eyes got caught on his lips but when you looked up, you could see uncertainty in his.

“I’d like to be your girl, Jake,” you whispered without thinking about it and you heard him breathe in harshly in response.

He shifted in his stance, moving slightly closer to you so his body was almost pressed against yours.

The honest vulnerability in his eyes took the breath from your lungs and you moved one of your hands up in instinct, cupping the side of his face.

“Are you sure?” he asked and you weren’t sure if he was asking you if it was okay to kiss you or if you wanted to be in a relationship with him, but you nodded enthusiastically in response to both.

Jake smiled slightly at your eagerness but he pressed his lips to yours carefully, just leaving them there until he felt you actively kiss him back.

You were both so engrossed in the kiss that you didn’t realise how heated it got until you found yourself flush against the wall, Jake pressing into you as if he needed your closeness to survive.

He had lifted your thigh up to rest against his hip with his hand spread over it while your hands tugged on his hair and shirt.

When he pulled away you whined, receiving a small smile from him.

“I don’t think here’s a good place for this. You deserve better,” he told you as he caressed the side of your face, waiting for a nod from you until he pulled you with him towards his car.

He kept his hand on your thigh the entire drive home and he pulled you close the moment the front door fell shut, kissing you as he moved backwards into the bedroom.

You couldn’t believe how you had never actively thought of Jake this way but you couldn’t get enough of him, your hands tugging on anything you could reach and receiving small groans from him in return.

He pulled his shirt over his head, leaving your hands to roam over his chest and abs until they reached his belt, unbuckling it and pulling down the zipper of his trousers.

You broke your kiss with Jake but kept your eyes on his as you slowly kneeled in front of him, his hands stopping yours as you started to pull his pants down.

He let out a shaky breath before speaking up.

“You don’t have to,” he told you but you shook your head, the tiniest hint of a smile playing along your lips and a playful but adoring gleam in your eyes.

“I want to,” you breathed out, receiving a thankful smile from him.

Jake hissed when you took him in your mouth, your eyes never leaving his as you moved your head in tune to his moans.

You were sure that he was usually able to hold out longer but due to how emotional he had gotten, it didn’t take him long to cum.

You didn’t even think of pulling away but you wouldn’t have been able to anyway because Jake set his hand to the side of your face, holding you in place as he came down from his high.

He was breathing heavily, his chest and stomach moving rhythmically as he looked down at you, blushing slightly at the intensity of it all.

You were smiling up at him as he put his hand under your chin to lift your head up slightly.

“Swallow,” he said, grinning down at you as he watched you do just that.

tagging: @wildbornsiren @mayhem24-7forever @green-socks @hederasgarden @letsfvckingdance @a-reader-and-a-writer @yespolkadotkitty @whateverbagman @sweetheartlizzie07 @top-gun-rooster @kyramaximoff @peaches-1999 @oliviah-25 @natasharomanoffisbaebby @luckyladycreator2 @blue-aconite @tipsykeen @airedale17 @iangiemae @dempy @princessofglitterland @teti-menchon0604

(please tell me if you want to be added to the taglist, or use this link)

#jake hangman seresin x reader #jake hangman seresin imagine #jake hangman seresin x you #jake seresin smut #jake hangman x reader #jake hangman seresin #jake seresin #jake seresin x reader #hangman top gun #top gun hangman

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beauty-and-passion · 1 year

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I think I perfectly know what you’re talking about, so let me tell you some trivia.

When someone acts very defensive about something, in Italy we say that they have “la coda di paglia” (which can be translated as “they have a straw tail”). This saying comes from an old tale of a fox, whose tail was cut off by a trap. The animal was so ashamed, that its friends decided to give it a straw tail, so beautiful that anyone could never have suspected it was fake.

But one day a rooster let this secret slip away and once the peasants knew about the straw tail of the fox, they lit fires near the chicken coops, so that the fox could no longer steal their chickens anymore: straw catches fire very easily and so the fox was forced to stay away.

From this story comes the expression “having a straw tail”, which means fearing any kind of criticism for a behavior they are well aware of. If you have a straw tail, if you have bad behavior or did something wrong, you know it. And so, you act defensive to hide it.

Thomas is doing exactly that. He’s getting very defensive over simple questions, he’s making childish excuses in a desperate attempt to show how good he is, but all he’s doing is showing us he knows he’s in the wrong.

So here are the tweets you (probably) wanted me to talk about and yes, I will talk about them both (special thanks to @transfemlogan who posted them on Tumblr first).

Those are both very recent tweets, but let’s start with the first one dated October 2022:

Okay, let’s recap everything Thomas did wrong here.

1) That person was not pressuring nor threatening him. They asked a simple, genuine question and they did it very politely and very calmly. This wasn’t an angry fan. And yet, Thomas went in full passive-aggressive mode, as if that person was insulting him. This is the best example of what “having a straw tail” means.

2) “Keeping people posted” means giving real updates, not a vague “working on the script” written months ago. It means telling people how much has been written, if he’s close to the end or not, how long he thinks it will take to reach the end, what his plans are, even if he’s just working on the actual script or not because he’s doing other stuff. Those are updates.

3) “Updating to the extent that I feel comfortable doing” is just a more convoluted way to say “I do not have any real update, so I am giving you crumbs, because this is all I have”. But he’s hiding it behind the excuse of “I’m taking care of myself”, which could’ve worked years ago, but after three years it’s not so convincing anymore.

4) Pressuring someone to deliver content is not healthy nor productive, but if someone is clearly doing nothing, some pressure makes the work done. As a writer, I learned long ago that, if I want things to get done, I have to do them. I won’t enjoy the whole process and there will be times I don’t really want to do it, but it’s the only way to do stuff. You can’t wait forever for the inspiration to come because, flash news, it won’t magically fall from the sky.

And sure, taking care of yourself is important too, but using your well being as an excuse to always postpone is just laziness.

5) Since Mr. Sanders is thirty-three years old and not five, I think he is old enough to accept someone asking him what is going on with the season finale and not overreact like he did. I could understand if he was a teen, but when you’re 33 you’re old enough to deal with something as simple as a question.

Oh and since I’m here talking about this post and since Mr. Sanders didn’t do it, I would like to formally apologize to the person who wrote that question. You did nothing wrong, dear. Your question was valid and polite and I am sure that another, more mature person would’ve given you the proper reply you deserved.

And if any of you is curious, would you like to know what the real answer to that question was? “The season finale is not here at all, because I am barely working on the script. And I am barely working on the script, because I don’t know how to handle it. And I don’t know how to handle it, because I am not a writer - but I want to write it anyway”. Here’s your answer, you’re welcome.

Believe me, I hope to be proven wrong, but this is what I got from Thomas’ over-the-top reaction. And if any of you think I am too hard on him, then sorry again, but it pisses me off to see a grown-ass man whining like a child because someone just asked him something he doesn’t want to talk about.

And here is the second tweet, dated December 2022:

Not only this is another textbook example of what “having a guilty conscience” means, but Mr. Sanders’ reply is - if possible - even more childish: I work very very hard! See how hard I work? I am right and you are wrong! And If you keep saying these bad things, I will tell mom.

In addition to that, he wasn’t even clever enough to turn the topic away from him. That person said that his supporters got nothing in turn and are more excited than him? He could’ve said that this was offensive towards his supporters, because if they are trusting him it’s not because he’s forcing them to do it, but because they like what he’s doing and want him to create these things he’s passionate about. But nope, he was too butthurt and he clearly knew that person was right, so he overreacted like a child.

This also proves that, sadly, he doesn’t believe his supporters are following him out of trust or because they like everything he’s doing. He’s probably very aware that the reason most people are following him is Sanders Sides - and that puts him in a difficult situation.

Why? Because he’s not able to handle the series. And he's aware of it: he knows he’s taking too long with the script, he knows there are no real updates, he knows he has nothing to give. And yet, this series is his main income: there are people, merch, contracts. He can’t just drop or cancel it.

And so he keeps everything as vague as possible. If everything is vague, people will still trust him, they will think he’s working on the series and patiently wait for the next episode.

This can work with kids. But when kids grow up or teens grow tired, they start to rightfully ask questions. And if you don’t have answers, you end up replying like this - thus involuntarily showing how aware you are of your situation.

And now, let’s take Sanders Sides out for a moment, because this isn’t about the series, but about him.

This behavior is very, very disrespectful. Adults should be an example for younger people, they should be someone the next generation will look at and take inspiration from, to grow into even better adults. We can’t pretend kids are better than us, if we are not the first to show them how to be better.

Thomas isn’t just an adult, but a public figure, so he’s not just an example for his friends or relatives: he’s an example for a lot of people. He should show them what a proper, mature, adult reply is. What he did instead was attacking with a lot of passive-aggressiveness an innocent fan who just asked a question and a more sarcastic one, who just poked him.

Do you know what he could’ve done instead? Not reply at all. Or just grow a pair and reply like an adult. He could’ve thanked the first fan and said that, unfortunately, there are no real updates on Sanders Sides for now, because he’s working on other stuff - and added that he hopes they will like this stuff too. While to the second person, he could’ve said that people are following him for more than just Sanders Sides and that he’s sorry that person thinks he did nothing, because he worked on different things. Was it so hard to do?

This is not a good way to handle criticism. And I hope he will grow up a little: all he did now was showing us how long his straw tail is and how easily it catches fire.

#sanders sides #ask #ts criticism #thomas sanders #I can accept long hiatuses and doing 200 series in the meantime #because apparently admitting you're not able to write a script is too difficult #but acting like a child?#that's not acceptable #especially when people weren't even mean #the second one wasn't mean come on #if that's mean you don't know mean

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sweetvixen1996 · 11 months

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Mafia Boys & Gifts As Manipulation

Okay so I need somewhere else to exorcise my Kinnporsche brain rot, and I guess that’s you fine people. So I submit my thesis of this post:

In episode 7, we see Vegas, Kinn, & Kim all give a gift as a way to manipulate the recipient.

One of the writers (who are trash people) are very smart to do is to echo certain beats with characters through their action to hammer a point home. A good example is Kinn kissing a drunk Porsche at the end of E3 and then sleeping with a drugged Porsche at the end of E4 -both acts of physical... attraction performed while Porsche is unable to fully consent but the latter having far more serious consequences.

The manipulative gift giving in E7 really hammers home that Vegas, Kinn, & Kim really are FAR MORE ALIKE than any of them would like to think. But its all about lenses.

So lets look at it:

Vegas:

Let's start with the most obvious example, shall we?

Vegas spends this entire episode pseudo-courting Porsche. Both to mess with Kinn, and to get a competent man in the Minor Family’s control (likely under his father’s orders), Vegas is going to use what he knows of Porsche to win him over. Including this gorgeous bike. Vegas explicitly frames Porsche getting the bike as a reward for a job goes well. That, by its very nature, makes it not truly a gift. Instead its payment, a carrot dangled above Porsche's head. Also, on top of Vegas just knowing that Porsche likes motorcycles, I think this serves as a reminder of their little motorcycle ride date back from E5 when Vegas was around to (seemingly) provide comfort when Kinn was not. Basically, Vegas is saying, “Look what I can give you, look at how much fun we can have together, and look at how well I know you but you just got to do this one thing for me and you can have all of it.”

For the record, I do think Vegas genuinely likes Porsche, and is probably physically attracted to him. Everything he does in this episode and beyond is absolutely a power play, with Porsche just being another piece on the chess board in the game of domination Vegas is constantly trying to play with Kinn, but, unlike his thin veiled contempt for Tawan, Vegas seems to truly enjoy spending time around Porsche. I always think back to that hug they shared and how Vegas just sort of melted into it. It’s hard to fake that sort of react.

Maybe in a different life, they could have been actual friends.

In hindsight, I do wonder how much about the bodyguards all being happy and Vegas caring about them is a show and how much of it is real. Vegas definitely wants to frame life at the Minor Family as a better alternative to serving the Major Family, but we also know that Vegas is not incapable of caring about the people around him. In fact, he’s something he desperately wants to be good at.

On a side note, we also get the case of Vegas giving the pork skewer to Pete. It's a small thing, and probably also manipulation, but with how important food becomes in their relationship, I think it's worth noting.

Kinn:

I almost hesitate to call this manipulation, because this moment is really just so sweet. So instead I'll discuss how Vegas uses the bike as a reward while Kinn uses his favorite gun as an excuse. For these two knuckleheads, E7 is a transitional period. E6 had them admitting for their attraction and affection for each other, and the Side Story had them cementing that what they had in the woods isn't going away, but E7 here is them trying to figure out what this new dynamic means and how it can exist back in the “real world.”

Kinn is not ready to say “I love you” verbally to Porsche yet. He cannot fully put his trust in Porsche just yet. After everything with Taiwan, and just well his entire life, all the jealousy and insecurity and possessiveness is coming out in full force. Not to mention, Kinn is stuck at home recovering from his injuries, likely making him feel useless. Plus, he has to at least have a suspicion that Vegas was the one who drugged and took Porsche back in E4 -on top of actively plotting to take Porsche away now.

Yet Kinn also knows he needs to be careful. Even if he can't say those things, he knows he at least needs to give something up or risk Porsche pulling away. Specifically, pulling towards Vegas. So he gives Porsche’ his gun, the one Kinn always keeps on him. It's Kinn’s way of saying, “even if I can't be with you in person, this gun is my way of being with you in spirit.”

Then he tells Porsche that Porsche has to come back so he can return Kinn’s gun. Now this is a fun little gray area, because Kinn IS able to say Porsche needs to come back to him -not why, mind you, he’s not their yet. But Kinn is trying his best. Unlike Vegas, who views Porsche as part of a game, Ken sees Porsche as the prize at the end of the game. The only thing that matters. The thing Kinn wants to get above all, no matter what he has to sacrifice.

I love this whole interaction because it just runs the gauntlet of emotions. It's sweet, it's sappy, it's funny, it's flirty, and it's a little tense. Overall, it's a good example of both Kinn’s own emotional limitations, and Kinn trying his damnedest to show how he feels since he's not great at putting things into words. And if that involves a little manipulation, well there are probably worse things in the world.

Also I think it is really funny that this entire scene and the situation with the gun is very reminiscent of the concept of the Lady’s Favor. That being where noble women would give Knights a personal token, usually a handkerchief or a ribbon, when they went off to do something dangerous as both a token of their affections and to make the Knight promise to come back. The promise, of course being so that the Knight would stay safe, and so the Knight would have an excuse to visit their Lady again.

Kim:

The Kimchay relationship is interesting because it somehow manages to be both the most wholesome while also being the most duplicitous. One of the things that makes all three of the major couples in this series interesting (or controversial, depending on who you ask) is that there is a very clear uneven power dynamic. Kinn is Porsche’s boss and a mafia leader, and Vegas literally has Pete chained up in his house -you can't get much more even than that. And yet, both of them are in a situation in which the power dynamic difference is obvious. That's not the case with Kimchay. While it's true that there is the obvious unbalance of the Idol/Fan dynamic, and the age gap being jussssst wide enough that Kim and Chay are at different points in their developmental adult life, the real power dynamic difference comes from the fact that this entire relationship is built flat on a lie. It is a lie that Kim himself eventually comes to love and wish was true, but not one that could have ever been sustained.

There are a lot of really great metas out there about how Kim is actually the most dangerous of his brothers, and is far more willing to coldly manipulate and act for his goal, and you see a lot of that these early interactions with Chay.

At this point, I think it's safe to say that while Kim may think Chay is cute and sweet, and is charmed by him despite himself, Chay is still just a means to the end within his investigation. He's also completely aware a Chay’s infatuation with him and is using that to get through the door of Chay’s life and house -quite literally.

If the motorcycle was a reward from Vegas, and the gun was an excuse from Kinn, I'd say that Kim is using the guitar as almost a form of payment. A way of further buying Chay's trust and good nature. He may have even specifically brought it as a way to override Chay questioning why Kim knew where he lived.

And yet it's also important to point out that this episode is a turning point in their relationship, just like it is for KinnPorsche. Before this, Chay was a tool, if a very charming one. Kim doesn't even really have the patience with him to wait for Chay to finish talking and expressing his doubt about accepting the guitar before asking to use the bathroom. Not to mention further taking advantage of Chay’s feelings for him in order to get Chay out of the house so Kim could investigate the Mysterious Locked Room.

But then Kim finds the Idol Wall, and everything changes. I am 100% convinced that is the moment where Kim not only knows that Chay has nothing to do with any potential mafia dirty business, but also when Kim starts feeling some guilt over his manipulation of Chay. Both of which should make him immediately back off, and we see in the next episode that that is sort of what he does, but his initial response is instead to engage further -even outright flirting with the implicit promise of further contact with the two, even though it actually doesn't have any merit at this point.

Basically, this is when Chay starts to become REAL to Kim.

#kinnporsche #vegaspete #kimchay #kinn theerapanyakul #porschay kittisawasd #vegas theerapanyakul #kim theerapanyakul #porchay kittisawasd #kinnporsche analysis #this is my brain dump #sorry if it doesn't make sense #bring on the piles of red flags disguised of handsome men #and the messy bitches who love them #not chay though #he is a sweet sunshine child #even if he wouldn't know a red flag if it was strangling him

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lovecaitlined · 2 months

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My Honest Thoughts on KaySun after Episode 62 🖤

I Can Excuse Bad Characters, But Not Bad Writing

Another ride. I’ve gathered myself and my thoughts up to once again marvel at the bad writing this show has. It’s only saved by KaySun’s chemistry thanks to Taro and Beril’s talents.

Before I begin, I want to say that all these are my own opinions, and I don’t think I’m a 100% right so I welcome other people’s opinions as well. Next, I don’t watch this show religiously—I only look at Kaya and Suna’s scenes, and even then I don’t watch it on the official channel live.

I also want to say I can excuse bad characters, but I cannot excuse bad writing.

I also wish the characters acted logically instead of for the sake of the plot and whatever politics goes behind the scenes (who is your backer, Buce? Onur?) but yeah.

Anyway, let’s start.

Bad Writing

Suna has been OOC for the most part; unfortunately, now, Kaya is as well. The cheating thing was too abrupt. The reason why I take issue with this is because characters are supposed to be driven by the motivations set up by them by the writer. The sudden, illogical changes in Kaya’s and Suna’s characters show that the writer is making them act out of character only 1) for the sake of the plot, 2) to be used as collateral for SeyFer parallels, and 3) to bring in the shock value and retain reytings—a cheap OGM move, because now the story is bad and has lost its value.

I will not excuse Kaya’s and Suna’s behavior. However, I wish they showed us that they were capable of doing such things early on instead of making them OOC. It’s giving me whiplash.

Kaya’s Cheating

I want to say, I hope this is an AsLaz (Yabani) and EsZan (Aşk Mantık İntikam) situation wherein the guy was flat out drunk / drugged and nothing actually happened. But even before that, he was being friendly and basking in Pelin’s attention. Granted, she’s a childhood friend, and he needed someone to talk to—but not someone to flirt with.

I hate how OOC Kaya is. You do not write someone to be a loser in love, who is a stickler for loyalty and protecting his wife, only to throw it all out the window for the sake of a cheap parallel plot. I wish they hinted at Kaya having a roving eye during his marriage with Suna. I would be able to swallow the plot more. However, they doubled down, making him very ideal and loyal, only for him to suddenly “cheat” on her after she acts a bit strange after…4 days? After he was waiting for her to call him?

The fact that he did it with Pelin (and not Pırıl—wtf happened to that plot, anyway?) irks me as well because he knows how Suna feels about Pelin. Maybe Kaya was really drunk (we know he gave up drinking after his ONS with Pırıl), but again, it doesn’t excuse his behavior. And it’s a slap to our faces to see him cuddling in bed with Pelin when we didn’t even get that post-halver scene with Suna.

I want to retain the hope that nothing is as it seems and it’s all an elaborate ploy by Pelin—she will blackmail him for sure, I just know it. I feel he will bring her to the mansion under the guise of protecting her from Serter, and maybe Seyran will beat her up. But I’m not taking my chances.

What do I think will happen next? I do hope Kaya shows remorse and guilt, I do hope he grovels for Suna. I think KaySun will be happy together for a bit before she finds out. However, there are alternative theories in the fandom that 1) He will fall for Pelin for real with his savior complex and make her an official mistress, and/or 2) Pelin gets pregnant. Personally, I don’t see any of those things happening, but who knows with such illogical, poorly planned writing? (Also, no one has sex like 4 days after a miscarriage and a C-section. The same way a loyal man won’t do a 180 after fighting for his wife for 4 days).

Suna’s Destiny

I think I’ve made my thoughts on Suna’s fortune telling arc quite clear in this other post, so I’ll try to keep this short.

We can see her waking up in this episode (we also see that İfakat was behind this sht). But unfortunately, her change of heart came too late—because Kaya has now potentially done something irredeemable?

I am also mad at how OOC Suna is because she’s clearly sane but SO illogically affected by a fortune teller. Make it make sense! She is so dumb (she used to be smart, anxiety-riddled but smart) and she is blaming the fortune teller for ruining her life, when it’s all her fault for misinterpreting everything. No one forced her to interpret things a certain way lmfao. She acted (OOC) of her own volition.

It’s such a huge step back from her character development. I hate seeing regression without reason or payoff. Once again, bad writing—she is acting weird because the plot demands her to, when the original character profile for Suna would never.

I know people are saying she cheated on Kaya emotionally for a teensy tiny moment when she rubbed foreheads with that fck@$$ driver. And yes, she was wrong! I’m not justifying her! But Kaya fcking someone else while still married to her was even worse imo.

I think she’s definitely going to try to make it up to Kaya in the next episodes, even though they haven’t closed the fortune teller arc yet. She’ll probably even want a kid. Will Kaya avoid her this time, out of guilt? Or will he hide what he did and carry on like nothing happen? (I really refuse to believe Kaya will make Pelin a full-time mistress, and I hope I am not wrong). Again, we might get happy KaySun and even halvet 2.0 (we cheered) and then when Suna gets pregnant with a son, she’ll find out about Kaya’s infidelity. Idk, we still have 11 episodes left until the finale on June 7, 2024.

KaySun Endgame

I hate to say this, but they will dig us out of the grave with minimal payoff and then make us endgame. As long as they want us to parallel SeyFer. And as long as Taro and Beril don’t leave the cast (and honestly, why would they, when KaySun trends always and has launched them a lot career-wise?), I am sure they will be 100% endgame. (But at what cost?) It’s unfortunate it had to happen this way, but yeah.

Another thing is Taro and Beril are finally doing promotion together. Maybe because Beril got rid of Ersh!t (rumor has it he’s dating the actress who plays the maid the show), and now they’re free to post like the besties they are. I truly do love and admire Taro and Beril’s professionalism, talent, and friendship. And someone pointed out how he posted about the important girls in his life—he included his mom, his pet dog Lila, and Beril, his co-star. They’re honestly so sweet and I love how wholesome their friendship is. Their chemistry and talent shouldn’t go to waste; I sincerely hope that they reunite it a hot digital project in the future, just like Boran and Miray did for HiLeon and HelSav. I want KaySun 2.0 to be better, too!

Also, Taro and Beril posting more photos just feels very genuine—and not just because my girl Beril is finally free. I also feel they’re trying to get us to continue to have hope for KaySun. Though I think they should demand a better plot too, but they’re too professional for that maybe.

I’ll definitely continue watching on the timeline, and I’ll root for Taro and Beril and KaySun happy ending always. But still! This is such clownery, and such new lows even from the most misogynistic production in diziland. I just pray they give us KaySun’s happy endgame.

Final Thoughts

Once again, I hate how OOC KaySun became, and I hope they fix this plot and make it so that what seemed to happen was not what really occurred. Wish they could be redeemable.

I pity Asuman…that guy is gonna blackmail her for money. (Also, Asuman would never sleep with a guy she just met. Wtf?)

I hate how the whole Yalı fcked eo during Ramadan except for KaySun. I don’t know why YÇ hates one of their most popular ships so much, but then again, it’s OGM. They hate women, logic, and happiness.

Binnur Kaya is a talented veteran actress, and I’m not surprised she is leaving, given how underutilized she was on the show. I hope we get a good final arc with Nunu and Kaya, but they barely fleshed out imo. (Why would she give her share to Orhan when he will steal it? 💀) I can’t blame the actress for departing, though Birsen did hint she is open to come back for S3.

I can’t believe I had to witness this during Lent. I have always been a good Catholic, but this show has made me turn to God and prayer more than ever. 🙏🏻

KaySun endgame, but at what cost?

Thanks for reading my thoughts. They may be muddled, but at least they were logical and slightly organized. 🧿🙏🏻

#dizi #kaysun #beril pozam #taro emir tekin #yali capkini #yalı çapkını

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thedrunkenreadersreviews · 7 months

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A thought on the Loki series finale.

Oh, we are gonna need something strong for this one. Excuse me while I pass on the Scandinavian mead and just reach for my old pal Jack for this one.

*long sip*

One of my biggest regrets in life is not going to the theater to watch the first Thor film upon its release and, instead, waiting to eventually pirate the movie online. The reason for this is that Loki was my favorite Marvel character and I had no idea who the hell Tom Hiddleston was. So afraid was I that he would not portray Loki properly or that the writers would botch his story had me hesitant.

And then I saw it. And I was blown away by Tom's performance, as most people were.

*Sip, sip*

So I stuck around, enjoyed the MCU, watching it expand, following my favorite character around, and adored how the comics were realizing just how much of a tragic, triumphant story Loki could be and putting him through an incredible arc throughout the pages (Kieron Gillen & Al Ewing were exceptional Loki comic book writers!).

*Long sip, sip*

And then ... there was Infinity War.

*Long sip, sip*

I knew it was coming. That's what every writer does when they have a character they can take no further. Just kill them. Marvel was no different. They killed Loki, albeit, giving him a hero's death and that was that.

Like Thor, I mourned. I grieved, I cried, I sat in pain. I returned to the comics to feel comfort, to know that at least there he was still going and his story was getting better and better. It brought me peace.

And then I am informed of the Loki series and I celebrate. I had never been so excited for a TV show my entire life.

There is a chance, I thought, that he could come back! That he will return! After all, Loki is his most powerful in the comics. The God of Stories, can alter realities, step through the multiverse. He is incredible! He is also able to call on variants of himself, they being a part of him, like it is amazing and I was hoping they would give Loki a similar power in the MCU.

*Sip, sip*

And they did!

Loki became the God of Stories ... but at what price?

*Long sip, sip*

You see, for me, it is something much more heartbreaking than what happened in Infinity War. It is something far more tragic than that.

Sacred timeline Loki has the peace of death. He can walk to the gates of Valhalla, be reunited with his mother, his father, and one day even Thor. There is a comfort in that, knowing that yes, he is dead but he is at peace.

Variant Loki ... Variant Loki ...

*Downs the glass, pours another*

There is a finality in forever. There is, as Mobius says, no comfort in it. It is a burden. A glorious purpose, but a burden.

What hurts the most is this:

Since Thor 1, Loki has said that he never wanted a throne.

Only Mobius, B15 (Verity), OB, Casey, and Sylvie know. They know what he gave.

Since season 1, Loki has said that the thing that frightens him the most is him being alone.

Since Infinity War, Loki promised Thor that the sun would shine on them again.

What hurts the most is that Variant Loki, God of Stories Loki, is now burdened with a throne. That he made a sacrifice much larger than death. And only his friends know. That he is now entirely, truly, forever alone and does not even have the promise of death to give him comfort. There is no death for him. There is no peace, there is no end. It is eternity. It is forever and there is such a finality to forever.

And the sun shines down on Thor in every universe, it shines on other Lokis too. It shines on the people of Asgard, on Mobius, on New York, on everyone in every universe.

Loki kept his promise to Thor, and no one will know.

And while I know Mobius is mourning as we all are---feels like the TVA isn't home anymore, wanting to look because of what Loki did just so he could have the choice to look---I hope he takes the chance that Loki gave him and lives. I hope he buys the jet ski, rides it down the Hudson River. I hope that when he feels the wind in his hair, the water splashing his face, and the warmth of the sun shining down on him, when he is at his happiest and living, that in those moments, he thinks of Loki and smiles. Because I know that Loki would not want Mobius to take the chance he gave him to mourn Loki forever. I know that Loki will watch those moments of Mobius smiling and living, and he'll smile too, and in seeing Mobius taking the chance Loki gave him, making it mean something, that is the peace that Loki can receive. That is the comfort.

*Downs glass*

This ending ... it hurt so much more than Infinity War. I have never felt this way about a character's story. Am I happy with it? No.

Would I change it?

No.

This ending, this sense of grief unlike before, this mixture of elation and bereavement is drowning but incredible. It is the ending that Loki does not deserve but accepts, and that is why I wouldn't change it.

Loki finally became what he has been to me and to several fans of the MCU and Marvel as a whole. What he was always meant to be.

Loki finally became the heart of the MCU. And though we may never see him again---which now I find I oddly prefer---we will know that he is there, between the branches, watching, protecting, beating, and making sure that each and every story gets told.

#loki #loki season 2 #loki series #loki spoilers #mobius #mcu #marvel #god of mischief #god of stories #thor #infinity war #the avengers

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love-is-dean · 1 year

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One of many thins that's been bothering me about the show is the constant comparison between Rang's truamatic childhood and other characters'. It's been like that since Season 1, done by both the writers! and the fans and guess what? it is still being a thing even now in the second season!! And honestly that's so upsetting and unfair in all the ways considering the fact that the circumstances were never the same and Rang's tragic life, sufferings and his traumatic experinces were totally different from other characters'.

1- Comparing Rang's trauma to Jia's, saying Rang wasn't as strong as jia even tho they both grew up alone!

True that they both grow up lonely with no parents to take care of them but unlike Lee Rang, Jia was never an unwanted/ unloved child. She had this loving parents that she never gave up on even after 20years since they went missing and their love and memory was enough for her to be strong and keep fighting for them. She wasn't abused by people, beaten to death and abandoned to die while growing up. She was never a despised creature and never felt like she didn't matter or that she didn't belong. She sure never felt betrayed by people she loved and trusted. See? totally different from what Rang went through since before he was even born.

2. And now even comparing Rang's childhood to Yeon's too? Again true that Yeon's childhood weren't all love and rainbows and had this abusive father who would treat him sh*t for his fun but the thing is... even such an irresponsible asshole of a father who didn't care about his own kid never really wanted Yeon dead; didn't call him a monster and didn't treat him like a monster he should get rid of. And he left Yeon's care to Taluipa before disappearing so unlike Rang, Yeon was never really left alone on his own, helpless and defenseless to face the world's cruelty. He had Taluipa and also besties to count on. He was literally raised by powerful gods and as a kid he never felt what it was like to lose his home-like Rang did when villagers burned his home- to kill his friend-like when little Rang had to put blacky out of its misery and it damaged him so bad- and lose his only loved one in the world- Rang losing Yeon as a kid and later nearly dying by his sword- Yeon was not betrayed and abandoned by his loved ones and the most important he's a powerful full gumiho. Rang had a vulnurable human side so ofc he would feel things more intensely than a full gumiho. And the thing is what made Rang finally lash out and go wild on humans was not his shitty mother being cruel to him but the humans who just couldn't let him be. Long after Rang left the village with Yeon he was still this caring innocent child until humans burned his home and wanted to kill them all. So saying that Yeon didn't use his childhood as an excuse to go dark is unfair to Rang's character coz Rang wouldn't either if... only if... humans just let him live his life in peace and not try to kill him any chance they got. Just saying🤷‍♀️ and mind me remind you of the fact that 1938 Yeon isn't living the best life either. You know?

3. Rang vs imoogi.

Now their childhood have many similarities. both unwanted children, unloved by their parents, treated like monsters by people and left to die by their family.

I would've really liked it if the show had explored the tragic side of imoogi too coz what he went through was horrible and sure it would make fans interested in his story on why he turned out the way he was! but here's what differs his story from Rang's: unlike Rang, Imoogi never knew love. He grew up cold and bitter with no heart. Unlike Rang he never craved love or family. All he ever wanted was power and only power. There was no one who he really cared about. He even betrayed his only friend, the only person who cared about him coz he didn't like to see him happy-compare him to Lee Rang who sacrificed himself for his brother's happiness- Nothing could really hurt imoogi, he had no feelings, no emotion, no weakspot. He had no one to care about and didn't need them either. But Rang was different. He was shown love too. He knew love and so the loss, heartbreak and the feeling of betrayal too. He had a heart. A very soft one. We saw adult Rang couldn't even kick his hungry ghost mother away coz seeing her hurt him, coz probably he still cared. He was a very emotional boy with a lot of wounds but still had his heart no matter what and he gave love so much more than what he got. That's why he'd never end up being an evil like Imoogi. Not bc he had people to save him from his inner monsters. No. Imoogi had one too and he betrayed him. It's bc Rang cared. He always cared. he loved his people and they loved him back. He'd earned their love with his good heart and unlike imoogi he'd rather die than losing them and that's what makes his story different. Bc he loved even so much more than he was loved and that's his strength. If anything he's been so strong, struggling for hundreds of years alone and surviving the unkind world that had nothing for him but endless pain, loneliness and nothingness. All of it while he was just a broken lonely boy ignored by his loved ones and hated by the world who he really never felt like belong to and yet he still kept his heart and love and at the end he was the one who suffered to give everyone a happy ending at the expense of his own life and happiness! Lee Rang, The one who suffered the most... and deserved happiness more than anyone but never got it! Words can not explain how unjust, unfair and cruel that ending was! He deserved so much better.

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