#i just watched this episode & now i am EMOTIONAL about sunny!!!!!!

[juniperhillpatient]

I go back & forth because I love being a hater & saying later seasons Sunny doesn't have rights but also SOME later seasons Sunny DOES have rights because specifically: "I shouldn't have to carry you up this hill. You never carried me up a hill. You never picked me up from school. You didn't read me bedtime stories. You didn't carry me on your shoulders. You didn't bounce me on... You weren't there! And I needed you! I needed you there. You were supposed to carry me!" has literally ALL the rights

#when i make my you're on your own kid it's always sunny gang amv then you guys will see #iasip #the gang carries a corpse up a mountain #iasip season 15 #charlie kelly #:(:(:(:( #i just watched this episode & now i am EMOTIONAL about sunny!!!!!!

[ginkgo-shaw]

omg you have such good tastes in shows!! i loved fruits basket as a kid, but i am 100% watching 10 things i hate about you and flower of evil!! you have won me over... im not a big manga reader but tsuiraku jk to haijin kyoushi sounds so good too!!

i love the way you describe the media you watch!! do you have any favorite movies or shows, aside from supernatural of course!!

thank you so much my beloved 💞 it’s my pleasure seeing that you may like what i recommend!! and please if you ever watch them, tell me what are your thoughts on it.

as you may know, supernatural is my favourite show ever but aside from that, i do have other favourites (i’m taking the liberty to include kdramas as part of the shows).

to begin we have vincenzo. i’ll forever asset that it’s one of the best show ever made. there’s everything you could ask for : an amazing cast, a beautifully written scenario and breathtaking shots/filming. this kdramas is about a korean-italian mafia lawyer visiting korea for some business and end up fighting against a powerful conglomerate alongside his new friends. i can’t begin to explain why i love this show so much but it’s really worth a watch.

then, there’s bbc merlin. i first watched it as a kid and i was completely obsessed with it (i wouldn’t sleep so i could watch the episodes on tv) and i still love it very much. the story’s about merlin, a warlock, who has to fulfil a destiny with the help of arthur but magic isn’t accepted so merlin has to hide his powers. i really love the show it’s so good, full of drama, friendships, angst, comfort, fun and love.

next, we have hymn of death. this one is a sad one and had only 3 episodes. it’s based on the real and tragic love story between a married stage drama writer and a soprano while korea was under japan’s occupation. watching hymn of death is an emotional journey and you can only feel bittersweet happiness as you wish their love story turned up better.

i’d like to make a special mention to fleabag. it isn’t really a favourite of mine but i really enjoy it. it’s a real pleasure to watch as it’s funny but at the same time deep, kind of crazy and there’s some great characters. it has a lot of dirty jokes (i mean a lot) and to be honest it’s usually really not my thing but in fleabag it’s more embarrassing than anything else.

now, for my favourite movies :

little miss sunshine. a beautiful movie that warms my heart in a way few pieces of media can. it’s also my biggest dose of serotonin.

top gun : maverick. i made a post about this one before but i’ll just say that i’m such a big fan of tom cruise, the top gun serie and the father-son relationships that this movie was made for me.

parasite. what can i say other than this movie is a masterpiece. the first time i watched it i had no idea what could happen and by the end of the movie even less so. i don’t think we truly understand how crazy this movie is. i love being alive right know because i’m able to watch parasite.

and finally, back to the future. an old time classic that feels like being enveloped by your favourite blanket while being on your couch on a sunny day, laughing without a care in the world. to me, back to the future is a synonym to comfort.

thank you so much for this, again, amazing ask! you’re truly the best. it must be kinda long as i got excited hahaha. also, i can’t thank you enough for liking what i’m rambling/ranting about. please give me your opinion on the question or on anything else!!

#coimeala #truly my beloved #you’re the best #my asks #mine

[fabaceous]

i was tagged by @thenelse to do 8 shows to get to know me better...ok honestly i dont watch a lot of tv. i mostly watch the same shows over and over so i actually could barely list 8. fyi the first 4 are probs my favorite shows but the rest are just shows that have impacted my life in some way. please dont judge me i swear i have good taste in other things 👍

1. yellowjackets obviously because it has literally everything i could ever ask for in a tv show. it irreparably alters my brain chemistry on a weekly basis

2. always sunny in philly. i can always bond with my girl friends’ boyfriends over this one LOL. ive seen every single episode a truly embarrassing number of times and i dream of being randomly thrust into a trivia situation where there is a question about always sunny because i have an obscene amount of knowledge on always sunny lore and am 100% confident i would nail it.

3. arrested development. second only to always sunny in the making lanie laugh category. tobias funke character of all time

4. haunting of hill house. winner of the making lanie cry category. great autumnal watch, i love rewatching around halloween. bent neck lady reveal had me legitimately in shambles

5. i mean the office i guess. i watched it in high school or maybe college,  mostly because my friends were always referencing it and i wanted to get the jokes...and lol i rly thought jim/pam was peak romance. luckily now im older and wiser and know jackieshauna is peak romance

6. back in college i watched all of friends because of a vaguely homoerotic bestie situation that later imploded and the one perk of losing her was that i was finally free to admit that show fucking sucks especially ross fuck that guy fr. me and my friends would have killed ross with hammers i can tell you that much

7. i used to watch bones with my parents when i was probably a little too young to be watching it. perhaps this is the origin of my fascination with morbid things

8. another childhood nostalgia show is monty python’s flying circus which i always watched with my dad. to this day we are capable of annoying everyone else in the room by having an entire conversation made up of monty python quotes (complete with bad fake accents)

EDIT BECAUSE I FORGOT THE MOST OBVIOUS ONE I KNEW I WAS MISSING SOMETHING: DARK (the german time travel one) thats actually a legit favorite of mine, took me on so many emotional journeys and made me laugh and weep and theorize and ponder. and it was good german practice 👍

well now you know, for better or worse...probably worse...anyway i nominate @chel-c-fsea @jamesv-t @movingtoparistoshootheroin @excluded-from-the-narrative ummm ermmm ehhhm... i would also say @teabookgremlin but you already got tagged...but...get double tagged i guess? lol ok i wont be offended if any of you guys dont do this but i didnt want to be boring and not tag anyone hehe <3

#theres lots of other shows ive started and enjoyed but never finished... #ive seen a little bit of most of the popular tv shows but im just not really a tv show girlie #also not really a movie girlie #but more so a movie girlie than a tv show girlie #like i think a list of 8 movies would've been a lot easier for me #and i think i wouldve made decent picks that actually reflect my personality lol

[margle]

just watched the episode. thoughts I have so many thoughts here is a list of them in no order

undefined queer dennis canon!!!! my favourite type of queer rep honestly because me too dennis, me too

also I looooove how unsanitised mac's sexuality is. like yesss frank representing people who are fine with some aspects of queerness but rejects the bits they dont understand

funny that dee got the 'engage physically bit' and mac didnt. mac has had anal beads in his arse before he will kiss a man. honestly good for him

dennis is pretending to hate mac again??? this man is incapable of emotional intimacy without like 50 constructed rituals

both of them are now equally delusional with mac not getting that he was in love with dennis the whole time and dennis putting anal beads in his arse because he 'wanted soft shell crab'. sure. sure.

I hope they both implode

mac's date was so funny especially the lebron comment. dee was great as usual but a bit under-utilised maybe

dee still giving side character vibes this season which is annoying but whatever this episode was too insane for me to care too much

and we also got more lore on her attitude towards banging men. which is very. very. fucked.

I am kissing glenn for all his little expressions this ep. so mischievous

aehbfjk;sladw;ndf;owalk/mfk;wnoja'pfwdk;ld/nf

canonical macdennis penetration?!

all the roofie stuff was uncomfortable but also not really ooc. they are genuinely so tragic. none of them can see what is so violating about that.

the scene with dennis controlling frank was maybe made to imply that dennis was only controlling mac for the power trip but that doesnt make any fucking sense considering the texting, making him fall in love and HIS EXPRESSIONS. so idk why they did that. I guess to just show that dennis can still be arch? just for some cut away humour? idk im going to have to think about that. like the inclusion of frank feels purposeful

also making dennis put anal beads in his fathers arsehole was insane and disgusting and very sunny

the uncle jack stuff just wasnt funny. it is only funny when his creepiness is implied and absurd - like the hands. just straight up child abuse isnt funny. unless it wasnt meant to be funny?? I feel like his character needs to go somewhere this season otherwise his constant presence feels a bit unnecessary. honestly im hoping he dies.

charlie weakly saying 'disgusting' is just sad.

the patrick guy seemed really nice MAC WHAT ARE YOU DOING

I now understand why that reviewer called him a hopeless romantic

im still reeling

there was just so much in this episode

oh and the end sequence was really funny with frank slobbering everywhere

yeah overall this is definitely going to become a legendary episode

it airing directly after the macdennis break up podcast is really funny

#iasip spoilers #s16 spoilers #sorry this is so rambley #I need to go rewatch the epiode

[thermodynamic-comedian]

just re-watched asoue netflix finale episode.

you guys don't even want to read this, i am about to be so weird about this series.

ouugghhhh the. them finally driving in the fact that neither side of the schism is free of sin <2 hehe, sudden new perspective that changes the moral and ethical implications of everything that's happened in the series before *twirls hair and kicks feet* <222

olaf just being casually objectified. good. as he should. im happy. im happy he got put in that cage too btw. he is sooo pathetic and unwell and dramatic in this episode btw. if u even care.

klaus has grown up so much holy fuck. looking back at the first episodes and comparing him in them to him in this??? even his voice is so different oh my god. the boy really grew up. damn.

honestly i don't blame violet for wanting to stay on the island at first. she's been through so much, she's had to actively protect her siblings for so long, i don't blame her for being drawn to what seems like a happier, safer place.

i wish we would've seen sunny all grown up and stuff. see her be like an older sister to bea ii. might have to make a teenager/young adult sunny design. i think she'd be a culinary arts major. i also like to think later on in life she reached out to fernald and they're still friends and occasionally meet up and play card games whenever fernald's not at sea with his family :)

"you hurt people." "and people hurt me." actually losing my mind rn. that wasn't an accusation, and that wasn't an apology. that wasn't a judgement, and that wasn't an excuse. it's just two statements, both equally true. and they're both acknowledging things that they clearly haven't shared with each other before: kit's acknowledging how her feelings for olaf are in conflict with her morals, and olaf's acknowledging that his actions directly mirror the way he's been treated, specifically because he was unable to break that cycle. kit's admitting that she is not fine with what olaf's done to other people, and olaf's admitting that he's not fine with what's been done to him. it's not an emotional scene because they're in love; it's an emotional scene because of the lives they've lived.

hey do you guys think lemony ever tried to explain the complicated and could've-been-solved-with-polyamory mess that is sugar bowl gen's romantic subplots to bea ii. like was lemony ever just like "oh btw, i was in love with the woman you were named after, but she married this other guy. and they were the parents of the people that raised you. and also your mother used to date a criminal, who also used to date another criminal....and also my brother at some point probably. oh and my brother was also in love with this one librarian, and another one of our friends probably. oh and that other criminal? she also had a husband, who is now dating just some guy named charles i guess," and bea ii is just sitting there sipping root beer thinking "what the fuck man. i ain't never joining vfd this shit is wild."

#i am soooo.....unhinged abt this episode in case u couldnt tell #btw yes i just casually implied olaf x jacques and jacques x larry. its my post i get to choose the canon- #asoue #a series of unfortunate events #asoue netflix #asoue the end #asoue season 3 #fritz rambles too much #sugar bowl gen #lemony snicket #count olaf #the baudelaire children #yea nope #not gonna tag every single character lol

[annieedisonslostpen]

Here are some shows I recommend to everyone!!! I just want the chance to gush about my favorite shows and if this convinces you to watch any of them, then I will consider my life’s mission complete and I will die peacefully 💕 (these are in no particular order btw)

1. It’s Always Sunny in Philadelphia

- I love this show. I love it so much. The first show to ever make me laugh OUT LOUD in my empty home while watching, like a full on belly-laugh even with no one else around. I got my roommate/bestie/partner to like this show, and now our dorm room is covered in iasip stuff. It’s half satire and half pure comedy, with some really dynamic and funny characters and a super simple premise (5 people own a bar. They get up to shenanigans around Philly. They are also the most terrible people on the planet and have no regard for others.) I know a lot of people hate the first season (probably for good reason, the political satire didn’t click very well from the get-go and its… difficult… to sit through some scenes) but I still enjoy it purely for how funny the characters are despite being awful people. Notable episodes are The Nightman Cometh (4x13), The Gang Solves the Gas Crisis (4x2), A Very Sunny Christmas (6x13), and The Gang Dances Their Asses Off (3x15).

2. Barry

- this is the most recent show that I finished all the way through, and I have to say, it’s really that good. Bill Hader is a really amazing actor — I had only seen him on SNL before this, and I had no idea he could display such a perfectly horrifying range of emotions. It starts a little slow; the first couple of episodes are good, not outstanding, but then it really picks up and creates a super strange, almost surreal atmosphere of tension/emotion/drama. Basically, the premise is that a professional hit man realizes his true passion is acting, but can’t seem to shake his past and move forward with his plan of redemption. A super great show. Honestly I can’t pick a single episode or two that are my favorite, but Ronny/Lily from season 2 was nominated for an Emmy I think, so check that one out :) this show is also very very violent so just giving you a warning now lol

3. Arrested Development

- this show is so good??? what???? honestly I never watched the last two seasons (I tried — I failed), but the third season ends the show perfectly, you don’t have to watch after that if it’s not holding your attention like it didn’t hold mine. I don’t even know how to describe how well this show (especially the first season, which is the best first season of almost any show I’ve seen) interconnects all these crazy jokes, plot lines, and characters so effortlessly. It’s fucking insane. I think (?) Drew Gooden made a video about how AD was ahead of its time, go check that out if you’re interested in hearing more about the humor style bc it’s really hard to explain. The premise is that a super rich family ends up losing their money when the patriarch is sent to jail for fraud (??) and hijinks ensue. Best episodes are Bringing Up Buster (1x3), Pier Pressure (1x10), and Let ‘Em Eat Cake (1x22).

4. What We Do In The Shadows

- vampires who live in Staten Island with their human familiar, what could be better than that?? I am not going to sit here and say that this show is amazing or perfectly written — it’s not, but something about the passion that the actors put into their roles, how they absolutely fully commit to the goofiness, is super endearing and hooked me from the beginning. It’s campy and fun with a dark sense of humor, and really sells its concept well. Vampires!!! Blood!!! Homosexuals???? The Casino (3x4) is a standout episode to me, but most of the episodes are about the same quality in my mind.

5. Succession

- yeah this show deserves all the fucking awards. It’s so good. I almost never choose to watch dramas, but I was promised gay people, and while that kind of didn’t shape out, the rest of the story is just amazing. I’m sure you guys have heard people rave about this show, and you should listen to them, because they are fucking right!!!! On the outside, it looks like a bland, colorless business drama, but once you dive into it (the first half of season one is kind of a slog), there is so much pain, love, redemption, loss, and beauty hidden under the layers of the show (and this reflects the characters too — stale from the outside, but much deeper and intriguing on the inside). The writing is spectacular. The jokes are actually funny?? The camera work and acting is incredible (seriously, props to Jeremy Strong for making me have overwhelming levels of empathy for his shitty, horrible character. Also, all the other actors and actresses are amazing, I can’t think of a single one who put in less than 110% into their role). Just go watch it. All the episodes are good, but the beginning episode of season 3 is such a strangely compelling and relatable character journey for Kendall, I felt way too many emotions in one sitting.

6. Stranger Things (Season 1)

- I am currently at the end of season 2, and while I still really enjoy it, I don’t think there has ever been a more cohesive and enjoyable first season of a show than Stranger Things. Like.. when people were hyped about this… it was deserved. I only recently got around to it, but yeah, it’s just as awesome as people say it is. The horror elements are really well done (I normally hate gore and horror and scary stuff, but I found myself not even shying away or being grossed out, it just fits so perfectly into the story that it wasn’t off putting to me at all), and the characters are so dynamic and realistic and interesting that I felt myself so incredibly compelled to watch the next episodes just to see what the characters did next!! I’m trying to think of characters that I disliked from the first season, and I genuinely can not think of any (Steve is a little flat, but he’s not super important this season so I forgive him). The plot is so unsettling and creepy, I was sitting on the edge of my seat watching most of the season. The soundtrack slaps, the direction is awesome, the set pieces are fun to look at and make perfect places for action to occur. All the storylines coming together at the end occurs so smoothly that I was actually shocked they managed to pull it off, and none of the things the characters did made me irrationally frustrated like in most horror media (except when a few characters of the main group split up for an episode — that was kind of stupid and didn’t need to happen). I like the time period they decided to set it in I guess, I felt nostalgic for the 80s even though I was born in 2003 lmao. Just go watch the first season, you won’t regret it.

Okay I might make a part 2 later because I’m tired of typing, but hopefully you guys will give these shows a chance!!! 💕💕💕

#tv #television #show #iasip #wwdits #succession #stranger things #Barry #arrested development #drama #comedy

[ellethespaceunicorn]

Share ten different favorite characters from ten different pieces of media in no particular order, then send this to 10 people (anon or not, your choice) 🎥🎬📺

These are going to be in no particular order because if there is anything I hate, it's rating my faves or comparing them to each other.

*~*~*~*~*

Geralt of Rivia - Multiple pieces of media

I first saw him in The Witcher series, then played The Witcher 3, then started reading the books. I am definitely obsessed with this man. And if I write too much on Geralt, I'm libel to make headcanons or maybe even an entire fic on just Geralt's hair or the way his eyes seem to glow under moonlight. See? Obsession. He is also my comfort character. I go to sleep and imagine running in the woods to this man. What the actual fuck?

Walter Marshall - Night Hunter (2018)

Seeing as how I am currently writing fic about this man, I think it goes to show this is a well-crafted yet moldable character and he can do no wrong in my opinion. Unless he dates Rachel, that's wrong in my opinion. She doesn't even have a last name.

Joel Miller - The Last of Us Games, The Last of Us series

Now I would be remiss to not mention Pedro's portrayal of Joel Miller (and that it solidified his status a my cool slutty daddy). But I must talk about how Troy Baker's voice in the game gave me strong Daddy vibes and gave me my second crush on a video game character after Lara Croft when I was a kid.

Ethan Hunt - Mission Impossible films (1996-Present)

If you know me, you know I have seen every Mission Impossible film since the first came out when I was 9. I was, and will most likely always be, obsessed with these movies. I love the heart-stopping action moments, the raw emotions, and I really like when Tom Cruise almost dies in every movie.

Peter Parker - Multiple pieces of media but I will focus on the films

In 2002, I was 15 and liked the older man that was Tobey Maguire (I was a superfan of his and of Peter). I had a Spider-man trapper keeper for goodness sake! In 2012, I was 25 and I was crushing on Andrew Garfield as a contemporary, someone in my age group. In 2017, I was turning 30 and had a crush on what, to me, seemed like a little boy in Tom Holland (he was over 18 but still). Either way, when asked what my favorite superhero is, I always say Spider-Man.

Bernadine Harris - Waiting to Exhale (1995)

I was 8 when this movie came out and my Momma let me watch it with her. Little did I know, my mother was ready to divorce my cheating father. This character spoke to me and continues to speak to me. I still see my Momma when I watch this movie. She was so badass. And so sexy.

Olaf - Frozen films

Fun fact: I used to collect snowman figurines and snow globes. Knowing this, my young niece made me watch the first film. Josh Gad as an inept snowman who loves the idea of summer is so fucking dramatic that I watched this movie on my own plenty of times. I love him so much and I just wanted to cuddle him.

Castiel - Supernatural (2005-2020)

I started watching Supernatural by watching the live airing of Simon Said, the worst episode of the series some would say. But I stuck around. I wanted to see what the kids on LiveJournal were so excited about. Cue season 4 and this son of a bitch just waltzes in with his wings and his coat and his chapped lips that, to this day, have never seen any moisture. And I fell in love. Fun fact: my dad named his dog Castiel.

Frank Reynolds (but specifically as Ongo Goblogian) - It's Always Sunny in Philadelphia

I have artwork in my bedroom over my nightstand of Ongo. This entire episode was gold to me. It was early season 8, I believe. Charlie was doing a Richard Grieco thing, Dennis was trying to get his erotic memoirs made into a Fifty Shades of Grey type thing. Mac was in the duster. Dee was in a smut film. Just golden. But then Frank was this Andy Warhol-esque art collector just doing the most. It was beautiful.

Louise Belcher - Bob's Burgers series and film

Louise, what can I say about this wonderful human that hasn't already been said? Louise is what I wish trauma didn't take from me. Louise likes to slap beautiful people, as do I. She is confused when she likes a boy, and so am I some of the time. And Louise has her comfort clothing item, her hat. I have my froggy robe and my penguin socks. In the latest season that just ended, it was pretty much confirmed that Louise is non-binary, as am I. My fiancee compares me to Louise on a daily basis and I just smile and tell her she's 100% correct because she is. Louise embodies me when I was 9 years old, right before childhood trauma took all of that away and replaced it with an old curmudgeon. I love my sweet Louise and no one can ever tell me that my love is unwarranted.

I would love to tag people to do this, but I know a lot of us are in the same circles LOL. This was too fun!

#ask reply

[whoslaurapalmer]

fic ask meme: 4, 5, 29

4) how many wips do you have right now?

hmmmmm. tough call bc i have so many wips endlessly vibing somewhere that i would like to get to!! but right now i am really trying to work on planning out college au but i feel weird saying just one wip???? especially because it is still just a plot wall!!! so

-college au. the thing about college au is that it takes a lot of laser focus and i can't work on much else at the same time bc i am trying to rewrite entire plotlines to work in a college setting and i have to try and keep everything together in my head without other work interference. -i have some little thoughts about lemonberry ice family times with the kids that i would like to make into just a fun little fic sometime soon -in terms of 'ones i'd sure like to get around sometime THIS YEAR,' sunny fic is also usually still very close to the surface of Fic Thoughts.

5) what's a fic idea you've had that you'll never write?

this is hard!!! because i want to write all of them!!!!!! i always want to!!!!!!! and even the ones i've said 'oh i won't do that' i've wound up writing lines for here and there, just to have a few things down, like the hamlet thing, my 1957 les girls fic, i've even got some lines for who fic around somewhere but i likely won't ever do more but even that exists, oh BUT

so i'm not writing naruto fic in this the year of our lord 2023 and i wasn't in then the year of our lord 2019 when i was struck by an idea but i will in fact not ever write this. i don't have the energy to naruto anymore. sometimes i wish i did bc i know almost exactly how i'd do this. but i do not. but i am occasionally soooooooooo irritated that no one has written like a...........good, post-og pre-shippuden fic about the genin and their lives after sasuke leaves and naruto goes to train with jiraiya, like just.......some good introspective character shit, not a lot of plot, one of those vibes fics with a nice song lyric title (which, would've been a lyric from one of the best naruto openings, what was it, opening......five? six?? oh it's six!!!! no boy no cry!!!!!!!!!!) with about like, ino being the only member of her team who didn't go after sasuke and having to watch shikamaru and choji come back and CHOJI ALMOST DIED, similarly tenten being the only member of her team who hasn't gone through a life and career threatening injury, i imagine shikamaru has to have nightmares given his emotional state after HIS FIRST MISSION AS A TEAM LEADER WHICH IS, I THINK, INCREDIBLY IMPORTANT AND VERY OVERLOOKED, and like, things about sakura being the only member of her team left in the village now (although i think there's some decent sakura-centric fics out there, but i want, more of all the genin, and them interacting with EACH OTHER) (i've watched a bit of boruto, like the more chill episodes, and the one where sakura says something like, "i just know, the people i was friends with when i was thirteen, they're still my friends now.'" and i think there's a lot overlooked too in the konoha nine/twelve/whatever friendships), just a lot of leaf village life stuff about the trauma these kids have gone through and like.......the ghosts they have to deal with, not just of sasuke but also naruto? even if they've left for different reasons? tsunade probably plays a big part in parts of the fic bc i think tsunade was sorely underused in canon as a character who could've LEGITIMATELY overturned the ninja system. i think the fics that focus on character and trauma and especially life in the leaf village are the most satisfying sort of naruto fic to read, for me. anyway.

29) Share a bit from a fic you’ll never post OR from a scene that was cut from an already posted fic. (If you don’t have either, just share a random fic idea you have that you don’t plan on getting to.)

mayo, for you i must share my who fic lines, which, i don't think i've posted before?? as it turns out i have three little fic ideas?? the first one was My Very Intense Obsession With Letting Companions PILOT THE GODDAMN TARDIS, particularly rose

teach me how to do it, she does not ask, because he's definitely not going to tell her. the tardis is his, it's his thing, even if it should be their thing, but, so he won't, is what it is, not even if she asked. but she's not going to get stuck like that again, either, sent off with no way to get back to him. 

but rose isn't -- he tells her she's so clever, but it's not in the way it counts, is it? she watched the doctor pilot the tardis for, for however long it was before they were back on station 5, and when it mattered, when she needed to do it, she couldn't. and she should have, should have known which button to press, which lever to pull, which thing did what to get her back to him. she'd watched him do it and she couldn't, because she's not clever, not smart, she can't even pay attention right. fat lot of help she is. 

this is...............i think this is about ten, trying to i guess justify ten falling in love at the drop of a hat and specifically inviting them on the tardis which was occasionally in my humble onion not necessarily great but i could get behind it from this standpoint. it's a little repetitive i think bc i was feeling out the vibes

[but he falls just a little bit in love with everyone, doesn't he. how could he not? bright, beautiful people, stupid impossible terrible people, living their stupid impossible lives, impossible boring beautiful little lives, things mean so much to them, so many souls burning with this insistence to live, to help, to be. so important, each and every one of them, just by being lucky enough to be here, now, where they were. how could he not fall in love with a piece of each one? how could he -- how could he not want to hold them all so close to him where he could always see it, where he could always have them?]

i think i've said this before. we all know i want a peaks-style ten+tentoo doppelgangery identity confrontation. in, apparently, second person??

[you are no stranger to seeing yourself -- you've seen plenty of the previous yous, and, on some level, this is really no different, isn't it? if you want, you can think about that you as another one of them, a lesser version of this you, younger, not quite as -- well, good is not at all the word. but this one is just more you than looking at your past, because you are looking at you, this you, the current you, separate and alive and still you.]

#THANK YOU FOR ALWAYS SENDING AN ASK i am still not always at a laptop these days and i don't like doing asks from my phone #so sometimes. they take longer than i would like to reply

[impostoradult]

I finally figured out why it feels like Supernatural murdered a unicorn (AKA why you need to STOP telling me to watch Black Sails)

I’ll start by saying, everything everyone else has been saying CERTAINLY bothers me: 

- the queer-baiting - the bury your queers - the undermining of Dean’s character arc  - the wasted opportunity for a certain kind of overall narrative closure - the flat out disrespect to Misha Collins and Jensen Ackles

 All of that bothers me tremendously. 

But there has been something else rather ineffable about this that has left a horrible taste in my mouth that I couldn’t quite pin down until last night. Bear with me, if you will, because this will require some set-up. 

*** This is not the first show to ever disappoint me in a spectacular fashion, nor will it be the last, I suspect. And one of the ways I’ve always coped with that disappointment was to remind myself that there will be other stories, other characters, other chances to get it right. (”It” being any number of things from just pure narrative emotional coherence to not burying your queers to not stringing along your queer audience and then yelling fuck you to them on the way out) 

But somehow that assurance -- that there will be other stories, other characters, other chances to get it right -- has rung particularly hollow in this instance, and I couldn’t quite put my finger on why until yesterday. 

I kept asking myself, why do I still have this feeling, deep in the pit of my stomach, like something was lost here that can never be recovered? 

Because something was lost here that I am doubtful can ever be recovered, and I don’t think I’ve seen anyone else talking about this aspect of it at all. 

***

A few months ago, TV critic Maureen Ryan did a great interview piece with Mike Schur (of Parks & Rec/The Good Place) discussing the death of long-form TV in the streaming era. They explore how the longer seasons and longer runs of traditional broadcast/cable TV provided an opportunity to tell particular kinds of stories that you simply can’t when seasons are 8-10 episodes and series typically run 2-4 seasons (thanks Netflix).

One key thing we’ve all lost in this new era of highly condensed TV storytelling (and of prestige TV narrative styles)? The traditional (several season’s long) slow-burn/will-they-won’t-they romance. Not only is there simply no longer the time or space to write such romances, it has also come to be seen as hacky, manipulative, cheap, artistically impoverished, low-brow, a embarrassing vestige of the era before TV became art™. 

Everybody is trying to be Fleabag now. No one wants to be Frasier. (”It’s really more like a 10 hour movie” they all like to brag)

Obviously TV still has romances, even ‘drawn out’ romances. But ‘drawn out’ in 2020 is like 2-3 seasons, maybe. More commonly it’s like half a season. Take Schitt’s Creek. The number of episodes between when David and Patrick first meet and when they first kiss? Seven. Seven episodes. Half a season. If you watched it live, it took less than 2 months for them to move from introducing that dynamic to consummating it. And I’m not bagging on Schitt’s Creek; I think the David/Patrick’s story is very lovely and well-written. 

But Niles & Daphne (Fraiser) had to wait 7 years and over 150 episodes before they finally got there. Josh & Donna (The West Wing) had to wait 6+ years, and 145 episodes. Mulder & Scully (The X-Files) had to wait 7 seasons and 143 episodes. Booth & Bones had to wait...you see where I am going with this. 

And my point is (and I can’t believe I never realized this explicitly until now): there has NEVER been a queer slow-burn/will-they-won’t-they romance of that type on TV ever. EVER. 

I’m going to say that again, because I think it bares repeating:

There has never been a queer, slow-burn/will-they-won’t-they romance that fits the 100-150 episode paradigm of delayed gratification on TV. 

Not ever.  

I can’t think of ONE example  Not a single, solitary one. And I know queer TV pretty well. Arguably the closest we’ve ever come is Legend of Korra, and that ran 50 episodes, a THIRD of the length of old school will-they-won’t-theys like Booth & Bones or Josh & Donna. 

Queer people have had a fair number of canonical romances on TV by now, even fairly long running ones. But we never got a primary/front-and-center romance that you had to root for for 100+ episodes before you got any kind of canonical consummation.

That is a particular kind of TV experience that queer people and queer characters were just 100% shut out of until it was too late. And because of how the TV landscape has changed in the last 10 years, I don’t know that that opportunity will ever come back around in our lifetimes. 

***

Dean and Castiel are/were a legacy of an earlier era of TV, an era that still contained the possibility for a will-they-won’t-they of that particular mold. There were other shows that could have also filled this gap at one time - Rizzoli & Isles, OUAT, House MD, etc. But one by one all of them were killed off, their queer romances unrequited, until Supernatural was the only one of its’ generation left standing. 

And they should have acknowledged that they were a species about to become extinct. 

There are plenty of other valid and compelling reasons Supernatural should have gone full Destiel, don’t get me wrong.

A) It would have been the most emotionally satisfying ending to the series and to those characters (and that would have been reason enough). 

B) It would have stopped the manipulative queer-baiting of the (disproportionately queer) fanbase (and that would have been reason enough). 

C) It would have been queer representation of middle-aged men, of bi men, of queers who came to their queerness later in life (and any/all of those would have been reason enough). 

D) It could have been a glorious subversion of the bury your queers trope, considering how often they’ve died and been resurrected (and that would have been reason enough). 

But point E) on this list is the reason this one hurts in a singular way that no one even appears to be acknowledging. 

Almost all of the other wrongs and missed opportunities contained in this Supernatural debacle have the possibility of being rectified (at least to a degree) elsewhere. I can and I likely will get more bi male characters from TV as time goes on. I can and likely will get more middle-aged queer characters. I can and likely will get more queer characters coming to their queerness later in life, and starting queer romances later in life. I can and likely will get more queer characters who aren’t killed cheaply and prematurely. I can and likely will get more genre TV shows with sprawling myth arc plots that are resolved in a coherent, satisfying way. I can and likely will get Misha Collins and Jensen Ackles involved in other projects that value their work and their talents. 

All of those other things are at the very least POSSIBLE, and many are even likely. 

But a queer 100-150 episode slow-burn romance a la Mulder & Scully or Niles & Daphne or Booth & Bones? That is the one baton Supernatural dropped spectacularly that no one else even has the possibility of picking up again for the foreseeable future. (They don’t even write those types of romances for heterosexuals anymore!) 

Seriously. It was a TV unicorn. And rather than letting it run wild and free, they stabbed it with a rusty nail. 

***

Given the monumental shifts in the TV landscape that have occurred in the last decade, I don’t know that TV will ever go back to the slow-burn/will-they-won’t-they romance spanning 100-150 episodes. Today it is a miracle if you can get ANY show to last longer than 50 episodes in the first place. 

And that is the piece of this that makes it feel (to me) like they murdered a unicorn.  

Because queer people have gotten a lot of things from TV, and they will get a lot more as time goes on. But that one? That one could very well be a totally extinct species.

That is the larger missed opportunity here that has left this feeling especially hollow and destructive. That is the thing that makes me balk when people tell me to go watch Black Sails or Pose or whatever other prestige TV show is doing this representation ‘better.’ Because that’s not really the loss I am mourning here. I KNOW there is ‘better’ representation elsewhere.  

But the will-they-won’t-they/slow-burn romance is a qualitatively unique thing that queer people literally just never got. Ever. There is no substitute, no alternate, no other show I can turn to with that kind of build-up and pay-off for a queer couple, and there probably won’t be in my lifetime. Not unless the TV industry undergoes another monumental evolution similar to the streaming revolution that shifts the incentives back to telling those types of stories again. 

All those shows you want me to displace Supernatural with? None of them can give me the one thing I uniquely wanted (and could have gotten) from Supernatural. THAT ALTERNATE SHOW DOESN’T EXIST. It doesn’t exist. And I have no reason to hope it will ever exist in my lifetime. 

So stop telling me to look somewhere else; you don’t understand what made this one a unicorn. 

***

Addendum: The only other possible show that could perhaps fill this gap is It’s Always Sunny in Philadelphia (re: Mac/Dennis). But I’m hesitant to say it exactly meets that criteria, for a number of reasons:

1 - It’s far less serialized relative to Supernatural and (except for a handful of stand-alone episodes) very little of the story is grounded specifically in Dennis/Mac’s romantic dynamic (unlike SPN, where it is absolutely central to much of the narrative)

2 - IASIP is fundamentally satirically in nature/tone which makes it much harder to have genuine romantic pathos (not impossible, but harder) 

3 - All the characters on IASIP are fundamentally crummy people who you aren’t exactly supposed to root for. Which doesn’t mean a romance between two of them can’t have its value/charm/worth but it’s not the same as when it is between characters who unequivocally deserve nice things/happy endings

#Supernatural #Destiel #queer representation #sorry this is long

[eggrestes]

ladrien fic recs!

there are SO MANY amazing ladrien fics i cant possibly cover them all but here are a few!

(all the ratings used are ao3 ratings)

((this is a very long post!))

FLUFF

Of Ivy and Sunlight by cyanise [ T, 1509 words, 1/1 ]

When Adrien takes to wandering the streets of Paris in ungodly hours, Ladybug has no choice but to keep an eye on him. Still, things are bound to get a little out of hand between two overloaded teenagers with a lot of love and not enough self-control. 

a lovely post-chat blanc fic :’) it has a great flow and is just soft and so sweet and it’s just perfect. gosh i cannot really say more other than read it!!! also almost all of their other stuff is also ladrien so do check it out!

This can't be happening by PlaPla [ T,  6,467 words, 1/2 ]

Ladybug is unsure whether accompanying Adrien to a gala as his not-date is the best or worst thing that has ever happened to her. But when their table mates turn out to be none other than her long time friends Alya and Nino and with Adrien acting weirder and weirder she finds herself with bigger worries than an unrequited crush.

a djwifi/ladrien double date? hit me up! i love identity shenanigans, ball dancing, ladrien, and djwifi and this is a perfect mix for me. i know it’s incomplete but it doesn’t end in a cliff-hanger really, the part 2 is just a promise of more so it doesn’t feel incomplete! PlaPla also has a short oneshot of ladrien going for a motorcycle ride.

Falling again by emsylcatac [ M,  4,506 words, 2 Works ]

They had been dancing around each other for a while now, and while fifteen year old Adrien would have been ecstatic at the idea of dating Ladybug in secret, twenty-two year old Adrien knew better. But Ladybug wasn’t making it easy. It was like… she, too, was falling for him. And that surprisingly enough, she didn’t mind.

* * *

Or Adrien trying (and failing) to keep things professional between him and Ladybug when the two of them partner up for a mission. Older AU

things are a little steamy~ here (don’t worry, it’s only implied it’s very mild and closer to a T rating than the M) but it’s a great mature take on their dynamics! emsy has more ladrien one-shots in her collection of one-shots!

i'd love to go on a date with you by sae_what  [ G,  6,480 words, 1/1 ]

Once it had been falsely announced throughout Paris that Adrien and Ladybug are in a relationship, Ladybug pays him a visit to turn him down gently.

Only, she doesn’t. And instead, she has a formal dinner date. With Adrien. At 8 pm. Tonight.

LADYBUG IN A SUIT!! aaaaaaaaaaaaaa. okay but for real it’s so sweet and also??? they are on a date!!! a rooftop date!! (too man exclamation marks oops)

Always Welcome by  chatonne-rousse [ T, 1,683 words, 1/1 ]

Ladybug knows that Adrien's window is always open for her to swing by and stop in, whether for video games or a chat or, like tonight, for soft kisses and sweet nothings.

He loves these visits. His girlfriend is always welcome. Always. (Especially for kisses.)

Written for Ladrien June, day 8: bluebell eyes.

established relationship, pre-reveal ladrien. there is something very home-y about this fic and it’s all about the comfort and quiet that i adore about it!

Five Times Gabriel Agreste Caught Ladybug in His Son’s Bedroom (and the One Time He Caught Chat Noir) by agrestenoir [ T,  1,923 words, 1/1]

Gabriel Agreste keeps finding Ladybug in his son's bedroom. As a super villain and father, this will not stand.

this crack fic is... honestly so hilarious. it’s all through gabrie-i-am-trying-to-parent-and-failing-a-lot-agreste’s POV so it is so much ridiculous! 

an uncurtain discovery by  Missnoodles [ T, 4,684 words, 1/1 ]

When he returns from school on Wednesday afternoon, Adrien discovers the darkness in his own home. He struggles to come to terms with it. To his utter mortification and delight, Ladybug is nearby to rescue him.

(He does not discover that his father is supervillain. That will happen on a different Wednesday.)

Adrien is being a cat and gets tangled in the curtains on his window and it’s utterly ridiculous. all the bug and the cat tendencies make it funnier and adrien’s inner monologue is just a cherry on top!

secret valentine by a_miiraculer [ T,  12,245 words, 1/1 ]

this is the moment that we will come alive brace yourself for love sweet love, secret love

If Adrien had known that getting himself stuck in a tree would end like this, he would've gotten himself stuck sooner.

A drabble series.

i just,,,, don’t have words for how much i love it! it’s ridiculous, it’s cute, it’s funny, it’s whole-some and just ladrien. the writer also has a M rated multi-chapter ladrien kissing (no the M is very much real here) and a heroic adrien and ladybug one-shot too! 

Those Benevolent Stars by peachcitt [ G,  23,696 words, 3/3 ]

“Will you come back?”

She looked up at the deep blue sky, as if she could somehow find the answer there. “I shouldn’t,” she said, shaking her head and looking back at him. But the stars were still there, caught in her eyes, and Adrien persisted.

“But will you?”

or

adrien meets his soulmate, a thief who calls herself ladybug. he falls for her, but she seems determined to maintain a space between them.

oh my god this au.... just no words!! it’s poetry and it’s tender and it’s about the yearning and just!!! perfect :’). Her current ongoing ladrien june fic is also akin to this (and the fic i linked before it) so do check it out too! (literally check out all of their works it’s so beautiful)

Flowers on the Window Sill by LNC [ G,  2,144 words, 1/1 ]

The first time Ladybug saw him, really saw him, the universe stopped.

this fic feels like poetry and it’s so lovely. LNC is always short and direct but it always hits right in the feels while also being hilarious. Her  other ladrien works are just as good and i highly recommend going through them because it fulfills all of the ladrien needs (along with Reiaji)

whatever a sun will always sing is you by komorebirei [ T,  32,980 words, 37/37 ]

“I didn't think you'd actually... do anything," Adrien admitted, cheeks prickling with warmth. "I-I mean, I never expected... I didn't know you watched my interviews.” That definitely wasn’t how he'd imagined confessing to Ladybug.

“Of course I do!” Ladybug squeaked. “Uhh, that is…” She looked down at her hands, nervously turning her yo-yo over, over and over. “Maybe you’re not the only one with a crush.”

(After an unexpected confession, Ladybug and Adrien start dating in secret. A progressive character- and relationship-study quilted from drabbles, with the intention of digging treasure out of the cove that is Ladrien. Written using kashimalin-fanfiction's kiss writing prompts from Tumblr.)

it does such an excellent job at exploring this dynamic along with the characters. it’s such a sweet fic, each chapter short and fun!

ANGST

whose woods these are (I think I know.) by  Reiaji [ T,  105,000 words, 25/25 ]

Four years after his future turns to cinders, Adrien is a servant in the house he was meant to inherit. Disowned by his father and abused by his stepmother, his days are filled with drudgery until he meets a masked huntress in the forest behind his father's chateau.

As his friendship with Ladybug turns to first love, he dreams of a future spent at her side.

Then, on the eve of the Princess's masquerade, he meets his guardian—and is granted a wish.

[Ladrien Cinderella AU]

Warnings: Child abuse, Graphic depiction of violence

this is absolutely gorgeous. it has so many troupes and so many amazing character arc and great build up and everything just flows so well. it left me in awe for weeks and i just. want to experience reading it for the first time again. look at this gorgeous art inspired by this! {and you have to read  leonard bernstein too because LETTERS and LADRIEN and YEARNING}

i would do it again (oh, a thousand times) by bugabisous [ T, 2,266 words, 1/1 ]

Knowing you can bring someone back doesn’t mean you’re free of the pain of seeing them disappear before your eyes. He can’t imagine he’ll be able to look at her directly without replaying every horrifying moment when he felt her slip away in a puff of smoke.

When it happens once again, he already knows he’ll be trying again. He just can’t give up.

it expands on adrien’s feelings in the episode desperada (my beloved <3) and it is just ouch. such great angst, such great potential. the kind of tragedy that it offers is unusual for ml (it gets only rivaled by chat blanc tbh). to rival this angst bugabisous also has a fluffy one-shot :)

when the world gets too heavy (put it on my back) by Taliax [ T, 4,720 words, 1/1 ]

Chat Noir isn't allowed to cry over his father. But even when he's just Adrien, Ladybug won't abandon him.

Hawkmoth reveal hurt/comfort + Ladrien

the plagg and adrien bond written is just perfect, and oh this hits right in the feels :’) it hurts all in the right way. tali also has so many other ladrien works in all genres too

By Your Side by omniousunflower [ T, 4,361 words, 1/1 ]

(Angry and alone, Adrien waits on top of the Eiffel Tower for his lady.)

“So, how did my kitty get stranded up here?” Ladybug asks.

Groaning, Adrien pulls his knees toward his chest and presses his face against them. “Because he’s stupid and impulsive.”

“Chasing pigeons, then?”

“No.” Shame burns in Adrien’s veins, white-hot now that Ladybug is here to witness his stupidity. “I threw my Miraculous, and Plagg wouldn’t get it for me.”

post-hawkmoth defeat, and adrien is not doing well at all. i am cheating because it is post reveal, pre relationship but it’s still ladrien. this fic is a roller coater of emotions, starting from a slightly crack scenario to a cute, awkward, hopeful ending.  More Than You Know is another of sunny’s angsty ladrien work!

Breaking The Rules (AKA The Ladrien Fistfight) by ThisKwamiNeeds_aNap [ T, 8,714 words, 1/1 ]

Marinette may or may not be dying, but she’s still going to do her best to fix every single problem in the world. She’s not expecting Adrien to be the one who tries to stop her. (Takes place immediately after Kwami Buster)

Warnings: panic attack, broken bones, PTSD. please read the tags!

*slaps this fic* this fic can fit in so much angst. it just?? left me in PAIN oof. it says ‘ladrien fistfight’ on the lid but nooo there is marinette is just having a freak out and it’s all so much??!! and it’s not just marinette there is adrien too and chloe and alya and- wow it’s amazing. love it so much it fills up my angst needs :’)

so that’s it for now! my personal commentary isn’t impressive nor does it do justice to the fic but i still hope you read a few of these!! happy reading!!

#ladren #fic rec #ml fic rec #miraculous ladybug #i know i dont do the fics justice but. oh well #lovesquare #ladrien #obviously check out the writers other workd too but this is ladrien so i am trying to give it a bit more emphasis #also i am so sorry i couldnt include more lesser known writers but unfortunatley they dont have ladrien uRGH anyway maybe sometime later! #i spend a lot of time on thi n got lazy so plz be considerate #also add recs if u want even self-promo is cool duh

[marveldc-imagines-hub]

Subtitles: Episode 8, Previously On

Subtitles Masterlist

Summary: As they seek out Vision a Westview that doesn’t seem to want them to find him, more memories from [Y/N]’s past begin to appear. They almost seem drawn out of the dark depths of their mind by some unseen force but it’s hard to tell whether it’s friend or foe. Who is forcing [Y/N]’s memories to the forefront of their mind--Wanda or someone else?--and is it tied to the suddenly hostile Westview blocking them from finding Vision? Who is trying to keep them distracted?

Word count: 6,584

Warnings: Cursing, descriptions of death and declining mental health. Mostly angst, tbh.

Tag list: @madamevirgo @ravennight41 @multifandomgirl16 @cyanide-mustard @badasspolygenderfriend @austynparksandpizza @sophster1881 @haileyybird​ @maceidelic​ @alexpress @angelvinella

Ko-Fi Shoppe

~~~

You were too busy trying to calm the anxious gnawing in your stomach to notice Westview subtly changing around you. It wasn’t until a vine wrapped tightly around your ankle and made you almost trip and fall face-first into a fire hydrant that you looked around with a frown.

    The vine itself—thick, spiky, and definitely not native to the suburbs of New Jersey—had sprouted from cracks in the sidewalk, which spread and opened further as other vines crept after it. After tearing the one holding you off and stepping out of its reach, you noticed the fences of houses reaching far past their yards to create maze-like paths that covered the sidewalks and street ahead of you. The houses that these fences belonged to were also warped in a way that made them look like you were viewing them through funhouse mirrors, stretching far into the sky and bending overhead in your direction like they meant to block you from leaving in that direction—or meant to block you from being seen by anyone flying overhead.

    Your eyebrows arched so far up on your forehead that you weren’t sure that they were still there. “What the fuck is going on?”

    You weren’t as concerned about the magic happening itself—if some random civilian walked by, they’d barely react at all and the maze and houses weren’t causing any actual damage, just being incredibly annoying—as you were by the fact that you couldn’t tell who was doing it. Your first thought was Wanda, naturally, but it made no sense that she’d be trying to keep you from finding Vision when she was the one who’d originally sent you to go get him; not to mention that she’s never created such a bizarre display of magic, at least intentionally. You considered yourself next, as you’ve known yourself to cause random transmutations when you get too antsy, but this wasn’t the type of power that you controlled and when you tried to reach out to interact with the energy, you received opposition instead of energy bending to your will. It was somewhat difficult to pick out because it seemed to hide away under the blanket of Wanda’s magic that reached across everything in Westview, but the aura of the twisted architecture surrounding you was dark and hostile.

    You first attempted to humor whatever magic was at play and made your way through the maze but as you did so, the fences shifted around you to extend their white picket prison. You stopped and sighed. “The end is nigh… and I am not going to spend it dealing with this shit.”

    A little voice in the back of your head told you that you could probably set fire to the whole magic mirror setup and be done with it but you ultimately decided against it; Wanda would probably find out and definitely wouldn’t be happy when she did. Instead, you placed your hands on the fence and as you did so, posts morphed into gates that you could easily pass through. You continued through the maze via this method and were surprised to feel the opposing magic back away from you after your pushback.

    “Oh, thank god,” you grumbled under your breath as you made it through the last of the maze. 

Unfortunately, you celebrated too early as the cement underneath your feet suddenly began to melt back into its liquid form. It would have been fairly easy to use your powers to reharden the cement but exhausting yourself fighting with the opposing force until the sidewalks of Westview shifted into grassy fields on its outskirts seemed like a bad idea in the long run, especially with the twins’ disappearance, Wanda dealing with Agnes’s strange behavior, Monica’s return, and the warning churn of your stomach telling you to stay alert. So, you settled for trudging along through wet cement until the magic decided to back off again.

Not so much trying to cause damage as it’s trying to mildly inconvenience me, is it? you thought.

Just as before, once the magic trying to keep you distracted was rivaled by your own, it receded and you were soon walking on the regular, hard sidewalk once more. You cleaned your pants and shoes up by turning the wet cement still clinging to them into something much more manageable—water—and continued on your way. Sorting through the mix of concern, nips of mild hunger, and the energy-seeking compass in the center of your now twisting in every which direction, you managed to eventually focus back into the feeling of Vision somewhere in the distance. It got stronger as you walked, so you began to pick up the pace.

Then your unseen opponent returned, stronger and now in the mental realm instead of the physical. At first, you thought the kickback was just Westview’s borders—the Hex, Monica had called it—trying to right the wrongs of someone within it having memories of the outside world, something you’d experienced before. However, you felt the menace rippling underneath the surface of the haze and when you tried to fight back this time, you were met with an angry strength. The fog making your head feel heavy seemed to spread through your bloodstream and take home in your bones, weighing your body down until you stood still and lame in the middle of a random neighborhood. You were a prisoner in your own body; you couldn’t move even if you wanted to, but you didn’t even know if you did because your brain was so full of dark storm clouds that you couldn’t think straight. You knew that you stared slack-jawed into space but it felt more like you were sitting in a dark room inside your skull and watching the outside world from a TV screen. As you watched on, the fog that took over your mind and body took your eyesight too.

===

===

===

The first few memories were fleeting. 

You were a few years old and holding your mother’s hand. It was much less boney and knotted than you remembered your mother’s hand being, as was the rest of her. She was younger and stronger, standing next to you in a worn nurse uniform and overcoat and staring ahead with a scowl, concealing whatever emotions she was feeling otherwise. You were in a bedroom that was only vaguely familiar to you and the two of you watched an old man that was barely more than a skeleton slept under a heap of fraying blankets. As you stared on through the wide eyes of your child self, your grandfather heaved a final breath before falling into a deep, eternal slumber.

A couple of years older, you were in the old but cozy, sunny yellow kitchen that your mom love to cook in. You sat at the dining room table, kicking your legs and picking at the splitting wood as your mother and a stranger argued in the other room. You had never heard your mother raise her voice to such an extent before but at the time, you were much more concerned about what kind of sandwich you were going to help her make for lunch. You never saw the stranger aside from a flash of [H/C] as he left and he was never seen or heard of again.

You were still in the kitchen but its appearance had changed ever so slightly. Yours did too, as you were a teenager now, and now your mother sat across from you at the table. Though she was still healthy now, her overall haggard appearance would be one that she carried on for years to come. She was telling you about her doctor’s appointment but you were only somewhat listening as you were stressed about high school drama and final assignments to be turned in before summer break. You heard words like “dementia” and “Alzheimer’s” but the meanings were lost on you in that moment.

Then you were in a nursing home. You could feel the harsh lighting, hear the TV from the lounge behind you. The smell of cleaning supplies burned your nostrils but the smell of your mother’s stale perfume soothed it. Unfortunately, nothing could soothe the ache that made your heart feel like it was going to shrivel up and die when you came to tell her that you changed your major in college so you would be better equipped to help her, only for her unable to recall having a child at all.

You were pinned against a wall in a Sokovian HYDRA base, although you didn’t know the organization that you were studying with was HYDRA at the time. Shivers of equal parts fear and exhilaration made your entire body quiver and the clipboard you’d been holding clattered to the ground. While a large group of Sokovian war protestors had to hunch together to fit in the cramped and cold holding room, Wanda seemed to take up the majority of the space just from her spot of holding you into place. Her hair was a mess and her face and clothes were dirty but her eyes were full of more life than you’d experienced during your entire time working in the base. She was angry and determined and powerful and gorgeous, and she told you that if you ever ran into her again that she’d kill you—and you were surprised with how okay you were about the idea, as long as you got to see her again. When she let you go and you apologized, she told you what she and the others were doing here; this was the catalyst that sent you investigating into HYDRA and finding out about their much more sinister nature, as well as the pain you’d helped cause.

Finally, the slide show of memories slowed and instead of being confined to your brain, you were back in your own body—or so you thought until you looked around and found yourself staring at a younger copy of yourself. Instead of Westview, you were in a HYDRA testing room, and instead of simply re-experiencing, you were quite literally watching a memory unfold around you as if you were an unwanted audience member standing around the active set of a TV show. Or a ghost, you decided, as the younger you walked through you as if you were nothing but air.

Your younger self was dressed in an all-black work uniform and lab attire, with an identification card clipped to your chest that granted you high-level clearance. You’d worked immensely hard playing HYDRA’s game to get to where you were now, which was standing in the control room with two other agents and preparing to analyze the test about to unfold on the other side of a large glass window. In the test chamber, a door slowly slid open and Wanda, unkempt and spacey, entered.

You wanted to break her out. Judging by the way your younger self tensed up—not enough to be noticed by your superiors; you’d mastered your mother’s emotional lockdown of a scowl at this point—your feelings weren’t far off from the initial experience. 

Wanda made her way farther into the room, closer to a scepter with a glowing blue stone that was being held on a pedestal. As she did so, the younger you readied their clipboard and pen to take notes and one of the two agents spoke, “For our notes, Miss Maximoff, can you please state your name and confirm your status?”

The younger copy of your current partner did as she was told. “Wanda Maximoff. Volunteer.”

“Begin experimentation,” the other agent—a doctor and one of your immediate superiors—stated.

“Doctor,” the first man said, “with respect, not one subject has survived direct contac—”

He was broken off as the doctor flicked on the intercom to speak to Wanda again. “Touch the sample.”

Wanda made her way forward but before she could do much, the stone suspended in the scepter—the mind stone, you knew now—detached itself and floated towards her. As it got closer, its glow grew brighter and bright blue magic wafted over Wanda as she stared before reaching out to touch it. While you remembered this situation thus far, what happened next was completely new to you. The mind stone shattered before Wanda’s eyes, revealing yellow golden yellow magic that poured from the remains. There was an explosion of light and within it was a flash of a shadow. From where you were standing, you couldn’t quite make out the shape.

Then the light died and Wanda collapsed, and the rest of the memory ran as you remembered. The scientist and doctor ran out to check that Wanda was still alive, while your younger self recollected themselves enough to take pictures of notes and research reports from the control desk with an old school digital camera that they’d managed to sneak in.

“Well,” a familiar, incredibly out-of-place voice sounded from behind you, “that’s a surprise. I had no idea you and [Y/N] went so far back.”

You spun around to see Agnes and a modern Wanda standing just behind you. Agnes watched your echo with mild curiosity as they carefully rifled through the control desk and gathered as much information as they could to examine at a later time. The dark energy that radiated off the woman was the same that you’d sensed earlier, hiding just underneath Wanda’s own. Being this close to the unhidden source now, the magic felt sharp and acidic and tasted like bile on the back of your tongue. The anxiety that had been gnawing at your stomach increased tenfold as your guts twisted around themselves. It had been Agnes all along.

Past you finished their investigation as they were called in to take Wanda to solitary by one of the other HYDRA agents. When they rushed out of the control room, they passed through Wanda and Agnes, confirming that the women were in a similar state of being to you.

Surprisingly, Agnes was completely unaware of current you’s presence. She walked casually over to the desk and attempted to make sense of younger you’s rummaging before making a face and shrugging.

Wanda, on the other hand, was staring directly at you. To anyone else, it could be said that she was simply looking through you who the commotion happening in the test chamber, but when you met her gaze, the slightest of jaw clenches told you otherwise. While it was Agnes—Not Agnes, a ghost of a whisper in sounded in your head—whose magic had been toying with you, it seemed that it was Wanda’s doing, at least to some extent, that brought you to watch this scene with them. 

“You know,” the ravenette said, “I really did like them for a while. They were fun to string along for entertainment, and they were a hoot at events and to run errands with. Such an awkward little thing. I could see their crush from a mile away whenever you three were around each other. I just thought they’d be the out-of-place, pining neighbor whose love was unrequited, a comedic plot device of sorts. I didn’t think you would actually return their feelings, let alone both you and your husband, you naughty dogs. I should have known sooner that something was up.”

You and me both, sister, you thought with a soundless snort.

“Oh well,” Agnes—question mark?—said with another shrug, “our friendship was fun while it lasted. Let me know if you ever get bored with them. We did often flirt a bit, [Y/N] and I.”

“What do they have to do with any of this?” Wanda asked, throwing a mild glower in the other woman’s direction.

“Why don’t you tell me?” Agnes responded with a sickly sweet smile, then walked past Wanda and out of the testing room. “Come along, dear! We’ve got much more digging to do.”

Wanda glanced at you one last time before following. After a moment, you trailed after them.

===

===

===

Past Wanda was sitting and watching sitcoms via the one amenity she had the dungeon-like room she was held in when your past self walked in.

“Wanda,” past you gasped and moved to rush to her side before freezing and throwing a glance towards a security camera in one corner of the room. The faintest blue-black light danced appeared to dance around your echo’s fingers as the lens of the camera warped and changed into a round silver disc, then the light disappeared and you watched yourself hurry to younger Wanda’s side. 

She didn’t acknowledge you until you placed a gentle hand on her back. She jumped a bit and turned her glassy-eyed, hollow-cheeked face towards you; in the same instant, the TV turned off. 

Past Wanda offered past you a wobbly smile that you returned. You reached into your pocket and pulled out a candy wrapped in colored foil that looked neon in comparison to the dull coloring of the rest of the environment.

“Hey, look, Wanda,” you tried, offering the candy to her, “I brought you something. Remember these? You told me once that they’re your favorite.”

Wanda stared blankly at your gift. After a moment, she took it and began picking at the foil.

Past you gave past Wanda another strained smile. Your furrowed brows caused deep lines to be etched into your forehead, showing no lack of concern, but you tried to stay positive. Gingerly running your hand up and down Wanda’s back, you carefully looked over as she freed the chocolate-covered candy from its wrapper. “You look good. You’re doing much better than you were when we brought you back.”

Wanda’s eyes lazily traced the pattern of the room’s stone walls as she brought her treat to her lips and carefully nibbled at it. When she found it free of tampering, she relaxed a bit and popped it into her mouth.

You watched as your past self rested their chin on her shoulder and squeezed her eyes shut. “I’m going to get you out of here, Wanda. I promise that I’m going to save you. I just… wish you’d let me help you more.”

Well, young me, you thought, you certainly broke that promise, then went off and murdered a bunch of people. Nice job.

Wanda’s past self finally fully acknowledged yours; she rested her head on top of yours and her thin fingers brushed brushed over the knuckles of one of your hands. She shook her head and mumbled, “I have to do this. For my people.”

Your echo sighed. The two of you sat like that together for a few moments longer before you separated yourself from her and headed out of the room. As you walked out of the room, the silver that blocked the security camera transformed back into a lens. Wanda looked back to the TV and blinked, and the television turned back on.

“Huh,” Agnes piped up to Wanda again, “they were just as piney here as they are in Westview then. Weird. I thought they had a reputation as a crazy psycho killer outside? Hoo boy, did you see any of the work that they did after Sokovia? I looked into it when I figured out that they weren’t just another ordinary townee. The Alchemist? Wished I’d managed to keep them on my side; I’d love to sit down and talk about all the ways they tore up those agents.”

You grimaced. You never regretted going on a HYDRA manhunt but it wasn’t exactly one of your most redeeming qualities.

Wanda frowned. “Trying to cope with all they had done while working with HYDRA was too much and they had to do it alone. I told [Y/N] I would return but then I never did. They thought it was their only solution.”

You were surprised to hear her empathize with you, let alone know about your revenge spree at all. You hadn’t realized how much it felt like a secret that you had been keeping from her until a weight was lifted off your shoulders when she talked about it.

“Still,” Agnes said nonchalantly, “turning an alive former HYDRA agent into a very much not alive scarecrow and leaving posting him up in his own field? Genius and I love the creativity. And the way they turned the guy who shot them into a bloody bag of bones? Delicious.

“But anyway,” she went on, the glee in her voice shifting to something more pensive, “little orphan Wanda got up close and personal with an Infinity Stone that amplified what otherwise would’ve died on the vine. The broken pieces of you are adding up, buttercup. I have a theory, but I need more.”

With a wave of her hand, a dark wood door appeared in the room’s far wall. Wanda’s eyes widened slightly with recognition and she immediately walked forward and through it. Agnes trailed cheerfully after her.

You made a move to follow them but you didn’t make it before Agnes shut the door behind her. You jiggled the doorknob but the door wouldn’t budge, and then it melted back into the wall and vanished altogether. While you were relieved to be away from Agnes’s acrid magic, panic rose in the back of your throat at the idea of Wanda being alone with Agnes and you being trapped in a bizarre memory realm with no idea of how to get out. You ran your hands along the wall in hopes of finding the door’s outline once more, to no avail. You spun around to search for another route—

—and you were suddenly standing on a street in Westview. 

This wasn’t Westview as you currently knew it but Westview before Wanda had turned it into her special little safe haven. Instead of watching this memory like a movie, you were now involuntarily reliving it as a prisoner of your head again as your body and mouth move on its own accord.

You were paused mid-walk across the street and staring at a breathtakingly gleeful Vision for the very first time. He was standing out in the open without a human disguise of any kind, wearing a very attractive form-fitting turtleneck and looking over an empty plot of land. He must have felt you staring because he turned his warm, earth-shaking gaze towards you.

“Hello there!” he hollered with a friendly wave and a smile that made you wonder if one look from a stranger could make you weep over how attractive they were. He stepped from the dirt plot to the sidewalk, then made his way to the curb. He held a slightly crumpled piece of paper in one hand and you could see a red heart in its center out of the corner of your eye.

For whatever reason—maybe because of the fact that there was a very inhuman-looking man, who was causing your body to have all sorts of reactions, walking towards you—you felt compelled to walk over and meet him. 

“Excuse me,” Vision said as you got closer and pointed to the lot behind him, “I’m looking to buy this spot here. Do you live around here?”

Temporarily, while I try to look for a cure for my dumb-bitch memory disease, you thought. Instead of saying this aloud, though, you said something much more stupid. “Are you aware that you’re red?”

Vision blinked. He looked at his hands if he was in fact just now realizing this, then looked back at you with wide eyes. One hand moved to touch the golden gem embedded in his forehead, which you now connected to the mind stone on the previous memory that you had experienced—Wanda’s memory. 

“Oh, goodness,” Vision said, “yes I am. I’m sorry, I hope my appearance doesn’t make you uncomfortable. If it does, I could make a more appealing one—”

You felt yourself break into a grin and one of your hands waved itself dismissively at him. “Not sure there’s a way to make yourself any more appealing than you already are. It’s just unusual is all.”

Vision chewed on one side of his bottom lip before smiling sheepishly at you. If only you’d been able to tell when this interaction had actually happened that he was “blushing” in the only way his synzethoid body allowed over you complimenting him; you would have had a field day with making him flustered.

Then his eyes drifted slightly above your eyeline and the hand touching his forehead gem fluttered slightly to the right—his left. Without thinking of how it might come off, he said, “You’re unusual-looking yourself.”

Luckily, you weren’t too easily offended. You briefly touched the gunshot scar on your forehead with one hand, the exit wound scar on your neck with the other, before dropping them both and shrugging. “Got shot in the head once. Operation gone wrong.”

“A soldier?” 

Unfortunately, the version of you in this memory was already struggling to recall memories. Instead of telling the pretty stranger that, though, you said, “Something like that.”

Vision nodded and awkwardly fiddled with the paper in his hands. His gaze flitted around before settling on you again, “Well, I think you’re appealing too.”

You felt your cheeks grow warm but you hid your embarrassment with a snicker. “Thanks.”

The man cleared his throat. “Yes, well, that’s good then, isn’t it? That we both like each other’s looks just fine. Not… that I want you to find my visuals appealing. Not— not that that’s a bad thing to be doing so either! It’s just that—” he paused to collect himself. “I have a partner. A girlfriend of sorts.”

“Of sorts?”

“It hasn’t really been discussed,” he clarified, “but we are deep in the throughs of our relationship.”

“Congrats? Also yeah.”

Vision blinked. “I’m sorry?”

You pointed over your shoulder. “I live around here. In a hotel more often than a home but I’m considering getting a rental a couple houses over.”

Because if I don’t find who I’m looking for—a doctor? Scientist maybe?—I’ll be stuck here until I remember where I came from.

    You were brought out of your grumbling thoughts by the childish excitement that erupted from Vision’s shining smile and spread throughout his body until he was practically vibrating. He quickly scrambled the rest of the way over and flashed the paper he held at you, then almost immediately folded it up before you could actually see anything other than a flash of red on white. He told you how wonderful it was to be meeting someone from the neighborhood and before you open your mouth to say anything in response, a billion questions seemed to pour one after the other from his mouth. You caught a few—did you know why the plot he was looking at was open, if there was a nefarious reason behind it lacking any home already? Was the neighboorhood safe, did you like it there?—but you soon found yourself distracted by the way the gear-like patterns in his blue irises swirled faster as Vision became increasingly giddy.

    Then one word came flying out of his rambling mouth and you felt like you had been hit in the gut with a sack of bricks. You actually had to stop yourself from choking on a gasping breath and steel yourself in preparation in case he said her name again. Luckily, Vision seemed too deep in his his own thoughts that he didn’t notice you blanching from the kickback of yours.

    Wanda? It couldn’t be. It wasn’t like there weren’t any other Wandas in the world. Then again, you’d never met another Wanda since your Wanda and there was something about her name coming from his mouth that assured you that his Wanda was yours too.

    Is that why you had come to Westview? Was Wanda the one you were looking for?

    You placed a hand on Vision’s shoulder, both as a way of grounding yourself and grabbing the man’s attention. It worked and Vision’s bumbling died off as he looked at you with wide eyes.

    “I’m so sorry,” he said, and lifted his free hand to scratch at the side of his neck, “I got quite carried away there, didn’t I?”

    This past version of you wanted so desperately ask about the Wanda he spoke of, to confirm that she was the Wanda that you’d known in what seemed to be a past life at this point. You wanted to know if she was safe, happy, and if he was taking care of her in the way that she so needed after everything she had been through. When you looked at Vision, though, and the plot plans in his hand and the place of his and her future home, you bit your tongue. Something told you that it wasn’t your time to ask nor was it your right to do so. It had been so long since you’d tried to help the Sokovian woman escape a dingy HYDRA base and failed, and wherever she was now, she was probably better off without you intruding.

    You put on a mask of a friendly smile to hide the way your heart was being picked to pieces by a thousand imaginary needles and gave Vision’s shoulder an equally friendly pat. “No worries. I do have to stop you, though, have an appointment to get to. I’m really not the person to ask about future home life—like I said, usually a hotel—but if I have anything to tell you, it’s that this is a good place to settle.”

    Vision beamed. “Really?”

    You dropped your arm and stepped away from the robotic stranger to take your leave. “This place is easy to turn into a home. You’ll love it here.”

    Vision heaved a sigh a relief and he waved to you and you gave a parting nod and began walking. “Thank you! Oh, and it was nice meeting you, neighbor! Hope to see you again soon!”

    Something deep in your heart told you that you wouldn’t be seeing the British gentleman again, or maybe you were finally coming to terms with the fact that your brain would drop yoru memory of him before the day was over. You cast one last glance over your shoulder, trying to commit every detail of Vision to memory the best that you could, before heading back across the street.

    “Looking forward to it!”

===

===

===

    One minute you were walking and the next you couldn’t feel any part of your body that was below your waistline. The scene had shifted again and you now found yourself staring spacily off ahead. You were outside and you felt the familiar presence of a large facility behind you but you couldn’t place what the building was for or why you were there. In fact, try as you might, you couldn’t place much meaning to anything. Your brain was blank aside from several questions that you had no answers to.

    Why were you in a wheelchair? What had happened to your legs? Why were you outside? Why were there old people and people in scrub uniforms milling around you and talking to you in passing as if you had any idea who they were? Where was your mom? You had classes to attend and needed a ride.

    You took a sighing breath and felt a tanginess of citrus on your tongue that sent shockwaves throughout your body—or what left of it that you could feel. Your eyes shot open wide and you swung your head around, looking for the source of the taste of candied citrus, the feeling of thin fingers carefully brushing across your knuckles. There was a memory there, clawing just under the surface of thought-killing fungus that seemed to have taken over your head over… however long it had been now. You just had to remember—

    Before you could could remember, you saw her appear before your very eyes. She was walking down the street past you with only a green yard and strip of sidewalk separating the two of you. She wore a dark outfit and her hair cascaded behind her in the breeze, fluttering like flames. You couldn’t see her face well because of the distance you could feel the deep, powerful sadness radiating off her in waves; it was almost strong enough to force you into tears. Still, she walked with purpose and she held a piece of paper in her hand that she glanced at every other second. She happened to turn her head to toss a stray chunk of her back over her shoulder and for a brief moment you thought that her dark eyes met yours.

    You screamed her name and attempted to chase after her. However, in that moment, you forgot that you were paralyzed from the waist down and stuck in a wheelchair, so when you lurched forward to stand, you were quickly greeted by hard earth knocking the wind out of you. You hissed in pain but the impact didn’t stop you, nor did your lack of working legs. You shoved the wheelchair away in a fit of irritation, then began crawling your way across the public yard, following a trail of a very specific shade of red as you dragged your body along.

    You didn’t make it very far before you felt strong hands grasp your shoulders. You flailed around, prepared to fight whoever was trying to disrupt your mission, only for you stop struggling altogether when a flash of reddish hair appeared in the corner of your vision. You looked up at and stared at the only face that held solidity in your mind with eyes the size of dinner plates as she knelt next to you and helped you into a decent sitting position. Once you were settled, her hands moved from your arms to cradling your face and when you could see the heartbreak in her eyes this time, you actually did feel a few tears wet your cheeks.

    Your eyes fluttered shut as her gentle hands caressed your face, brushed away the tears that were now flowing like a waterfall. Your own hands found their way to her waist and you held on for dear life. With a wobbly voice that was barely above a whisper, you gasped her name again, “Wanda…”

    You felt the warm touch of her forehead pressing against yours, her nose ungracefully bumping against your cheek as she held you. “[Y/N]?”

    Hearing your name on her tongue sent you into a fit of sobbing laughter, though you weren’t sure why. Goosebumps erupted across your skin and you felt the stuttering of a billion bird’s wings in your stomach, pounding against your ribcage. You had so many things you wanted to say and yet you could remember a single word, so you merely fell into a bumbling chant of “My Wanda, my Wanda, my Wanda, my Wanda…” Your eyes stayed squeezed shut for fear that if you opened them, she would no longer be there. 

    Wanda’s lips brushed against your eyelids and then your cheeks, not quite leaving kisses but a warm, tingly feeling nonetheless. A smile was there, you could feel the curve of it as her mouth traveled from your temple to your hairline, but it was one of the same sadness that you’d seen in her eyes. She mumbled against your scarred forehead, “Oh, [Y/N], what happened to you…?”

    You finally opened your eyes—luckily, she didn’t vanish into thin air once you did—and finally met her gaze again. You moved your hands to cover hers that still held your face and pressed them harder against your cheeks, as if you could imprint her fingerprints into your skin.

    After a moment of just silently basking in her presence, you sighed softly and replied, “I don’t know.”

    Pain further etched itself into the lines of Wanda’s face; you quickly reached out to smooth them out with your fingertips.

    “You don’t remember anything?”

    “Not much,” you replied. Then you smiled. “I know you. All I know for sure is you.”

    Wanda looked like she was on the verge of bursting into tears herself but she swallowed her sobs instead. She adjusted her position and sat back slightly, scrubbed her hands over her eyes and looked around at your surroundings. She glanced at the paper she’d once been holding but now sat in the grass next to her before her gaze settled back on you. Sadness shifted into determination as she took your face her hands once more.

    “I’m going to get you out of here, [Y/N],” she said, “I promise I’m going to save you.”

    You went to nod but the sound of something flying overhead caught your attention, then a flash of yellow light over Wanda’s shoulder.

    A powerful jerk in your stomach seemed to control your entire body, forcing your head and body upward. Then you were standing on the sidewalk on the outskirts of a neighborhood with a maze of twisted houses and picket fences behind you. You were no longer trapped inside your own head, watching or reliving memories, but standing mid-step in the Westview that was bubbled by a Hex of modern Wanda’s own creation.

    Vision was flying through the air nearby and approaching fast.

    Your powers seemed to move one step ahead of your mind; before you finished the thought, one of the fun mirror houses was turned into a staircase that led to nowhere in the sky. As you turned and began racing up them, you waved your arms in Vision’s direction and hollered, “Hey! Toaster oven!”

    Vision was clearly on a mission home but you managed to catch his attention before he flew too far past you. He rounded back around and met you at the top of your stairs. He quickly surveyed your immediate surroundings, taking in the bizarre scenery before casting a concerned look your way. “What in the world is going on here?”

    “Uh, well,” you paused and took a glance around yourself, then rambled off, “I just spent a nondescript amount of time trapped in a mental live-action remake of my past and I’m pretty sure Agnes is not Agnes but some unpleasant, magic-y person who kidnapped our kids and now is trying to get… something, I’m not sure what, from Wanda. Also, I think she might have a crush on me and I’m pretty sure she caused the carnival set-up next to us.”

    Vision blinked. “Well, that’s… a lot.”

    You hummed your agreement and nodded. Then you held out your arms to him. “Shall we?”

    Vision eyed you from your place on a freshly mutated staircase then snorted softly as he gathered you into his arms, bridal style. “Surely there must be a way for you to travel with those powers of yours.”

    “There is,” you affirmed, “but this is probably faster and I should probably keep my strength to save our kids and your wife. Oh, by the way.”

    Vision gave you a questioning him as he prepared for flight. You wrapped your hands around his neck and brought your lips to his in an quick kiss. When you pulled away, you met his curious gaze and said, “I’m so happy to have met you.”

    Vision’s expression grew warmer and returned your kiss with a softer one of his own. He briefly nuzzled his forehead against yours before pulling away.

    “I’m glad to have met you too,” he said softly. Then he shifted his gaze to look past you, towards home, and he said, “Now, let’s go get our family.”

#marvel #marvel x reader #marvel headcanons #marvel imagines #mcu #mcu x reader #mcu imagines #mcu headcanons #wandavision #wandavision x reader #wandavision imagines #wandavision headcanons #poly!wandavision #poly wandavision #gender neutral reader #reader insert #fanfiction #scarlet witch #vision #marvel vision #wanda maximoff #scarlet witch x reader #scarlet witch imagines #scarlet witch headcanons #wands maximoff x reader #wanda maximoff imagines #wanda maximoff headcanons #vision x reader #vision imagines #vision headcanons

[agent-cupcake]

fluff is good, it’s even fun sometimes. but, you know, i think i’ll always enjoy dark content the most. like, no matter how much i insist i have moved past it, my entire career began because i learned the term yandere and realized i’d found my place in the online sphere. but, really, lust and fear have a complimentary relationship. the emotions and sensations they invoke, both physically and mentally, are equally potent and stem from the same place for me. the fluttery sensation in my stomach dances indiscriminately to the tune of disquiet and arousal, excitement stirs itself up within my chest at the mention of being wanted, uncaring if the intent is sadistic or lustful. its a shared theatrical fantasy of fear, catching thrills from simulated danger as we imagine what it is to be in a situation so dire, so intense and frightening, that we cannot help but to hyperfocus on our discomfort. we practice these emotions and engage in these disastrously unhealthy relationships through emulation and the sanitized vessel of the written word, but without any of the emotional price that would be asked of us if it were real.

it’s not real. 

there is nobody lurking behind your window in the gaps between the streetlamps, even if you were to turn off the lights in an attempt to get a better view, but maybe you shouldn’t anyway. there is no face to breathe fog and leave smudged fingerprints on the glass pane while they peer into the internal life you hold sacred, but you should probably keep your blinds shut. there is nobody hiding behind your shower curtain as you stumble half-blind and asleep into the bathroom at two in the morning, but it wouldn’t hurt to check. if you hear a sound, surely you cannot logically attribute it to a malevolent person moving unseen through the secure sanctuary of your home when they assumed you would be in bed, but you should probably take a look at your locks. if you notice that your things are not where you left them, it’s silly to assume that someone has been into your room, rifling through your things and leaving them almost as you left them. to believe that somebody genuinely and truly meant you harm in such a personal way would be to risk the foundational safety that you rely on to live with any measure of peace. and besides, memories are fallible. our senses are imperfect. our overexcited and imaginative minds can betray us. you can be infected by a nightmare you can’t quite remember, only that you woke up shaky and gasping and frightened, squinting in the darkness to make out the figure standing at the foot of your bed that you could have sworn was just there only to be reassured that it was just a bad dream. you can hurry home because you felt certain you were being watched only for the sensation to be ultimately attributed to your own paranoia. yes, the world is dangerous. but maybe not your world. these things, these dramatic scenes cut straight from an episode of the hundreds of crime dramas, don’t happen to people like you.

but 

we fantasize about yanderes and dark personalities and the brutal psychological and bodily torture any character of our choice could subject us to, we imagine the most grim of situations in a light that appeals to our own desires, twisting horror to suit us in a controlled manner. 

still, it is frightening, isn’t it?

it’s past midnight, maybe one or two in the morning, and you’re sitting within the four walls of your room that you no longer believe to be protection enough from the stalker that has been creeping closer and closer. you’re staring at the familiar surroundings that suddenly feel very alien and contend with the bone crushing frenzy of utter stillness in the face of animal panic, the intense crackling and wavering that you can almost see hovering above your skin and holding up little strands of hair as chills crawl in bug-like hoards across the feverish flush of your flesh. all at once you are overwhelmed and helpless against him as he invades, defiles, and dismantles each aspect of your life. there is nothing you can do, no protection from this stylized predator who who has been perfected by fantasy made real so that he no longer resembles any common stalker. in the dark, you are vulnerable. in this situation, you are isolated. shame fills your chest, sloshing around to the frantic rhythm of your heartbeat, embarrassment at the ridiculousness of your reaction. really, what are a few messages? maybe you’re misinterpreting the signs, there’s not enough evidence to prove anything. you have to use the bathroom, yet you don’t feel safe to enter the dark hallway because there might be a figure standing at the other end, and what would you do then? you want to contact somebody for comfort, but everyone you know is asleep and you don’t want to disturb them over something so trivial. you want to move and run and scream and deal with the problem, but you can’t do anything. just sit. just watch. just wait. minutes tick by, somehow. and somehow, dawn breaks over the horizon. you didn’t sleep, but maybe the sun will provide safety. maybe.

maybe not. there’s a unique kind of horror in the mundane. you don’t think about the sounds of the world around you until you begin to feel uneasy in the sunny open air, until the paranoia kicks in and suddenly it’s all you can hear because you’re hyper-focusing on trying to identify why you no longer feel safe. birds warble and call to one another. the leaves relentlessly rustle as the playful breeze shakes them about. from far away, a dog is barking. the big kind, the one that goes “boof boof,” you’ve just gotten out of your car after being out all day and you’re standing uncertainly in your driveway, looking around to try and pinpoint why you’re so anxious. you realize, with a zipping sort of shock down your spine, that there’s nobody else around. not even any evidence that they existed in the first place and it’s so stupid but you begin to think that maybe you’re the only person who has ever existed because the world around you feels so empty and barren. energy tingles in the air, but it is hollow. a void of something you can’t quite perceive. the dog stops barking. the wind dies down. do you dare go inside? your home, the place that should be your refuge, is not safe. you go inside and look at a kitchen you scarcely recognize as your own, at a bed that might as well belong to somebody else, at decor you once were so proud to put up that now seems arranged by a strangers hand. the one who is preying on you is probably human, but the threat feels supernatural in effect. omnipresent. we fear that which we don’t understand, and how can you possibly understand the motive of someone who has focused on you? dread sinks down deep as you shift from foot to foot and second guess every move you make. it smells like sun-warmed concrete and the wind-blown scent of spring greenery. just like your home itself, the smell is familiar as it is foreign. eventually, you go inside.

it’s so obscene, the way that sweat pools between your shoulder blades and slicks your skin, making you shiver with a distinctly antithetical chill to your blazing temperature. sweat is gross and uncomfortable, it makes your clothes cling to your skin and hair mat to your forehead. it’s so crude, this gouging, pinching discomfort like you need to pee making your thighs tremble as they clench together. your entire body is wound up tight as you crouch in the dark, barely allowing yourself to breathe for fear of being discovered while he looks for you. maybe he takes his time just to mess with you, maybe he doesn’t. maybe he tauntingly calls out to you in a feigned attempt to draw you out of hiding. maybe he means it when he tells you that he loves you. no matter what, there’s no escape, not anymore. it’s a foregone conclusion that you will be found. but you can’t move. fight or flight is out the window, you are frozen. you know the eventuality, yet you cling to hope out of the sheer, stubborn, and half-mad belief that this cannot possibly be real.

its so repulsive, this sickness that gathers in your gut, that invites the swollen weight of nausea to press down heavy and inescapable in your throat, that sits on your paper dry tongue. it tastes like old, rusted metal, the scent that clung to your blistered hands when you were young and tried your luck on the ancient playground monkey bars. the bloody flavor that choked you when you lost the last of your baby teeth, leaving your childhood behind and exchanging imaginary monsters for the real ones. just when the anticipation is on the precipice of killing you, you’re found. you expected it, yet you still scream. it still hurts, it’s still terrifying, you’re still clouded by the vague fog of disbelief that this could be real. you keep thinking that. it can’t be real, this can’t be real. things like this don’t happen to you. 

but it is. you can’t stop it. you have no control over your life in that moment and thereafter. 

and you think about everything you’ve ever read online about torture. human beings are so capable of hurting each other, it’s a dedicated art form. and you know about stalkers, the real kind, not the fun fictional yandere kind. you know the torture that human bodies are capable of withstanding before dying, the grotesque limits they can endure. limbs removed or hobbled. fingers peeled of nail and skin. teeth pulled, tongue cut out, eyes gouged, skin lashed to tatters, feet spun around so the skin stretched like rubber. not to mention sexual torture. when a human being is granted absolute dominion over another, even the best of them go rotten. do you ever think about that? in these situations, the fear of pain would get to me above all else, i think. 

if you don’t immediately disassociate from the fiction, if you force yourself into the scenario as its presented with a degree of reality, the horror is really limitless. and, you may ask, why was this important? because it is six am and i cannot sleep and i’ve had this entire conceptual outline of good horror yandere fiction sitting in my docs for ages that i’ll never actually use to write character x reader so i am giving it to you raw and uncut.   

#personal #yandere #uh tw for being a pretentious and sleepy idiot cooming over ye ole classic yandere tropes #sometimes i like to imagine this stuff in clear enough detail that it actually makes me uncomfortable enough to turn on the light #and rethink my life choices #because this aint it #but at the same time #at this point its sunk cost fallacy i've spent too long typing this out to discard it #sorry dear followers #stalking tw

[secretlyatargaryen]

I really am surprised that when I went into ATLA I knew absolutely nothing about Zuko as a character other than that everyone on tumblr kept saying he had the greatest redemption arc ever. I didn’t even know if it was like, a villain to hero redemption arc or a jerk to less of a jerk redemption arc or a redemption equals death arc or whatever (and I’m not going to get into how one of the problems with how tumblr discusses redemption arc Requirements is that there is never an acknowledgement that there are so MANY different ways to write a redemption arc), but I did know that there was a redemption arc, so I did pick up on a lot of the early groundwork that the show lays to make Zuko sympathetic even as a villain, but even so there were some things that I didn’t expect that ATLA does in interesting ways, and one of them is the reveal of how Zuko got his scar.

The scar is brought into the narrative early on, first by virtue of the fact that it’s hard to not notice, although it’s kinda easy to dismiss at first as just something that makes him look scary and like a villain, but by the third episode we’re given some context for what the scar means to Zuko through his confrontation with Zhao.

Zhao: You can't compete with me. I have hundreds of war ships under my command and you? You're just a banished prince. No home, no allies. Your own father doesn't even want you.

Zuko: You're wrong! Once I deliver the Avatar to my father, he will welcome me home with honor, and restore my rightful place on the throne!

Zhao: If your father really wanted you home, he would have let you return by now, Avatar or no Avatar. But in his eyes you are a failure and a disgrace to the Fire Nation.

Zuko: That's not true.

Zhao: You have the scar to prove it.

Zuko: Maybe you'd like one to match!

Zhao: Is that a challenge?

Zuko: An Agni Kai. At sunset.

Zhao: Very well. It's a shame your father won't be here to watch me humiliate you. I guess your uncle will do.

Zhao walks away. Front view of Zuko, with Iroh in the background.

Iroh: Prince Zuko, have you forgotten what happened last time you dueled a master?

Zuko: I will never forget.

At this point, I don’t know what an agni kai is but it sounds like some macho BS, and given how much of Zuko’s interaction with Zhao is a dick-swinging contest, it’s easy to assume that this is more of Zuko just being an Angry Villain. There are some interesting things that are revealed in this conversation, though.

Zhao is competing with Zuko for Angriest Villain, which is usually a good set up for Villain Redemption. So far, so good.

Zuko’s a prince but he’s been banished. His father doesn’t want him. Zuko disagrees. Loudly and Angrily. Zuko is most definitely wrong. We get a feel for why Zuko is doing what he’s doing.

Wow Zhao way to rub salt into the wound. The show has already told us that Zuko is a teenager, but this is another scene that emphasizes just how young Zuko actually is. We see Zuko disrespect Zhao in typical spoiled royal teenager fashion but then we get this adult being unnecessarily cruel to a kid, including expressing joy at the idea of humiliating him in front of his parent/parental figure. This also emphasizes how little respect Zuko gets within even his own nation as royalty.

Zuko’s whole persona of “I’m the prince and also a scary villain and I definitely do not need to calm down, uncle!” is not really working out too well for him.

We learn the scar is somehow connected to his status as disgraced royalty.

Okay, so an agni kai is a duel, and that’s definitely how he got the scar.

The story behind the scar is vaguely alluded to here. What I assumed going into this based on this conversation was something like, Zuko challenged a master to a duel and lost (gaining the injury which resulted in the scar) and was thus disgraced and banished.

What’s kind of interesting about this is that upon my watch I assumed that this was something Zuko had done wrong. Since so much of Zuko’s early personality is I Am Ready To Fight, it’s easy to assume from this conversation that what happened was that Zuko challenged the wrong person to prove he was big and bad, faced someone who was more big and bad, and lost. Macho BS. I also assumed it had something to do with succession because Zuko really cares about "his throne" and was politically disgraced as a result of what happened, so I imagined that Zuko tried to go for a petty power grab or something. Probably the kind of thing that happens all the time in Evil Fire Land.

This is standard character building, especially for a sympathetic villain, or an antihero, or just a jaded character. Sometimes this literary device is referred to as “the wound,” or the thing in a character’s backstory that drives their psychology and inner conflict. It’s usually done in either one of two ways.

Character was a Terrible Person and made a Terrible Mistake and is Paying for It

Character was once a Bright and Sunny Innocent Child but then Everything Turned to Shit

What’s interesting about how ATLA reveals this with Zuko is that they do a kind of bait and switch, where it appears to be the first one but is actually revealed to be the second one. For other examples of this trope in the show, Iroh is pretty clearly the first one, and Aang is pretty clearly the second one.

Remember how I thought that Zuko had challenged the wrong person and lost because he’s a macho idiot teenager?

Gather ‘round and I shall tell you the tale of how Macho Idiot Teenager was once an Adorable Ponytail Unicorn

Here it comes, the Macho BS. You are a Baby step down.

“You know I don’t really think that we should be using new recruits as human meat shields. That’s kinda evil.”

Well, that's reasonable, actually. Apparently that was the wrong thing to say, though!

In Evil Fire Land we solve all of our conflicts with a Duel to the Death, of course! Fight a military general? Yeah, I got this! Ohmygod, calm down, Prince Fight Everyone

What’s happening now, Oh my lord

You know, I don’t really think -

Sir, this is a child.

That’s...really intense.

So yeah. I thought Zuko got banished for fighting but he actually got banished because he didn’t fight. I thought he got into a fight because he was being an idiot but he actually was being a Good Person. Obviously I didn’t think the Fire Lord was going to be a nice person but you gotta be a huge dick to burn the face of a crying, surrendering thirteen year old just for having morals. Also it’s your son and heir and you do it in front of a huge crowd. This is before we find out about all the Bad Shit going on in the First Fire Nation Family which Kinda Explains It.

This is one of, if not the most intensely disturbing scene in the show and it manages to be that in a show that’s entirely bloodless (take note, Game of Thrones) and doesn’t even show you the actual scarring scene. It helps make Zuko sympathetic but not just in a This Character Has Suffered way or a This Character Was Once a Nice Person way (because the indications that Zuko has more to him than just macho badness are peppered throughout the first season), it also helps explain Zuko’s personality and motivations and you can actually see that the thirteen year old boy and the bald ponytail jerk are the same character, whereas lesser characterization would increase the contrast between the two characters for dramatic effect. The effect here is actually more dramatic. One of the things that makes Zuko redeemable is that we aren't just privy to how he became the way he is, we get to see that he is actually still the same character in a lot of ways as the child who spoke up in defense of his nation's soldiers, and that his bad actions are motivated not just by that deep emotional wound but by extreme psychological conditioning. I've talked a lot about Zuko and cognitive dissonance because it's strongly tied to what makes him a believable and interesting character.

Also Zuko didn’t just not fight because it wouldn’t be honorable to fight dear old dad, his father actually manufactures the whole situation so that there was really no way Zuko was going to be able to fight back. I’ve written about how Ozai is manipulative before because I don’t see a lot of discussion of that and the show gets it across in some subtle ways, and this action by Ozai is as manipulative as it is brutally violent. That’s something that hits you as you learn more about the dynamics in Zuko’s family. Zuko isn’t just sympathetic because he is a Sad Woobie who Once was Innocent and Good, his family really did a number on him, oh my god.

#atla #zuko #atla meta #ozai #zhao #avatar the last airbender #abuse cw

[scoundrels-in-love]

Okay, so I am going to try and write about something that I just can’t stop thinking about.

Which is, once again, Seun Gyeom’s diary. I spoke about it a good, long time ago (that’d be ep 7 or 8, I think?) here and rereading the post, it was really interesting to see what withstood test of time.

And in some ways what was actually true then but has shifted to be different now because he has grown as a person and immensely so.

Specifically, that’d be how Seun Gyeom was protective of his diary around Yeong Il but didn’t try to conceal it when Mi Joo was there. I speculated that he, in some way, had had very little privacy in his life and this was innate and simple trust, yet learning to draw borders in regards of Yeong Il. (And then I went on to extensively talk about how he’s not aware of walls he puts up and how verbal expression of care is still unfamiliar to him and something he is eager to welcome and replicate.)

And I feel like I was right, actually, even as Seun Gyeom hesitated to hand over his diary to Mi Joo this episode. Especially so, in truth.

First, he really was actually stalked and investigated by his own father and with the way that man acted, I wouldn’t be surprised if he had demanded Seun Gyeom to hand over and show his phone or some such at some point. Which, yikes on pikes.

Second, we’re back at to theme of self-love and him establishing his own person also independently from Mi Joo.

I didn’t speak of it much other than in few tags, but back when he confessed to Mi Joo, I got caught up in the way he said she gives him value. Because no matter what, it’s... It’s not great to stake your value being based on what you think someone else gives you. It’s a start, if you’ve never felt you had any, but it’s basically just shifting that task to someone better, rather than his parents or his teammates.

I bit my tongue and told myself - it’s something they will work on. And I was right. The show delivered and even more overtly than I expected. Because Mi Joo called him out directly about it. When? After their break up.

First, in the break up scene itself - he does assert himself to an extent, he gets upset that she makes him say the words instead of braving it herself, because it makes him take responsibility for it, to take her wishes as if they’re his own - which is something that his father has continuously done. He goes as far as to say it’s only mistake she’s made that night - because the rest he can understand and give it time, but this was cruel in a way he didn’t expect or wish to experience from her. But okay, I’m getting offtopic because it’s something I’ve thought about a lot.

The point is, he starts by asserting himself in the scene and then he continues with: “Let’s give each other time. It’s the least you can do for me. I think I deserve as much.” Which. WOW. Amazing. Beautiful. First time we see him saying “I am deserving of something, of being treated fairly and with kindness. and my feelings have value.” so plainly.

And then... Then he collapses a little on himself and asks her “Don’t I?”. He is still hurt, he is still angry, but he goes back to questioning because his value is STILL dependent on her on some level. He might’ve accepted on some unconscious part if she had said ‘no’, even if he had rebelled against it mentally. It’d have been a lot to overcome, in my opinion. But of course it’s Mi Joo and she doesn’t do that.

The same pattern repeats when he runs after Mi Joo and pleads her not to leave. It’s not the pleading itself, but the fact he apologizes for crying and breaking her heart with it. I went ‘oof’ immediately and, essentially, so did she. “How can you apologize even in moment like this?” Because even then, he is prioritizing her feelings and being sorry for taking up emotional space in not positive way, even though he’s breaking apart.

I truly and well think it’s what makes her say ‘you should love yourself more, for us to be in healthy relationship’ that same night. Because he still doesn’t. He’s learning, but she still is the root and the heart of his self-value and what creates any warmth he might feel toward himself.

I am not going to talk about every little moment in-between where we get to watch her nudge him toward healthier, loving mindset about himself or where he actually follows it through that we get to see. This is hella long as it is.

So. Third point, even if it’s actually still second. Him buying diary was her suggestion, him struggling with its concept and learning to write in it (with her help) was an important lesson in self-actualization. Him being protective of it toward Yeong Il, but not as much with Mi Joo, to me, felt like sign he does want to be vulnerable with her but also doesn’t know how to establish boundaries.

Something Mi Joo constantly tells him - my work and myself are the most important things to me, there’s a space in my life that is only for me and that is healthy and good and you should have for yourself!

And now that she asked for his diary, he had that belief in himself. I have something private, only mine, and just because I love her - and she loves me -, it doesn’t mean I have to give it up to her to be judged for its worth, or to share if I don’t explicitly wish to. To me, it was like him stating - I know I am truly my own person, with my own value independent of you(r affection) although it is important to me, I have my own thing that is purely my own.

It looked almost comical, how he didn’t let go of the diary and someone else might think of it as funny moment, ah pouty Seun Gyeom getting possessive of his belongings, what a cutiepie but also like stop, but to me that was such a quietly loud landmark of his journey towards self love that I quite physically can’t stop thinking about it.

Maybe it’s just me, maybe I am ascribing more importance to it than it actually has. But whenever I think of him learning to love himself, I will think of that moment, I will think of Mi Joo respecting that he doesn’t want it to be read and the long, long way the had went from that sunny day where he sat on the low wall, trying to find words for fear in his heart. And maybe I will tear up, again.

#run on #jtbc run on #kdrama #rainy watches kdrama

[little-boats-on-a-lake]

Part Fifteen (Part Two)

Potential tw: reference to self harm urges

He just didn't feel like going back to sleep. He doubted he even could if he wanted to. It would be better to just get a start on the day's work.

The weather was starting to change again. The harvest work was almost done. Sunny was so fast at it and she seemed to enjoy it. Except for the corn. They both hated corn.

The little fawn who had broken his leg seemed to enjoy corn. Gently petting the fawn’s head, he cracked a small smile as the tiny creature eagerly nibbled at his hand.

As if it could somehow sense his tension, the fawn stared at him before gently setting his head over the wisps of hair resting on his shoulder and licked at his ear. He giggled, a light and airy sound he doubted actually came from him.

"You're a friendly little one, aren't you?" He leaned against the little deer, feeling a quick heartbeat against his own. "Your leg healed ages ago. So why haven't you gone home yet?"

The fawn walked away from him and knelt down, resting against the soft place he had made for any of the creatures who needed help. It looked at him, as if to say, “What do you mean? I'm right at home."

Something flashed in his eyes as he realized he had never seen Sunny smile before as much as he had over the past month. Yes, he wasn't perfect and yes, he accidentally hurt her but they had both apologized profusely, even though she really didn't need to. Could she grow to love their home together like this little fawn had? A strange giddiness bubbled up in his chest as he imagined a life they could have together. He may not have had many things but he was happy. Maybe the two of them could be happy... together?

He left the fawn in his little shed with a quick scratch behind the ears and hiked back to the center around which his life was centered. And also the pantry. Today was bread day and the sun had only just risen. He may not have loved himself but he sure loved baking bread and that was enough for now.

The way the dough stretched out and wound itself around his fingers was a comfortable and familiar memory. Just like how Sunny would reach out and grab his hand when she dragged him to sleep at night. Not the time for that now-

"Not the time for what?"

He jumped back, arms held defensively in front of his dough. A laughter that chimed like a warm beam of sunshine drew his attention.

“How… how long have you been standing there!?” He didn’t mean to scream. But sometimes, a grown man just needs to scream to defend his bread from evil invaders who come to damage the bread.

It was so adorable when he got flustered like that. Felicity brushed off a small bit of flour that had found its way onto his forehead.

“Relax, silly. I live here too, you know?”

“I… uh, you-“ He stammered, trying to enunciate his words with sticky hands.

“Calm down!” She pushed herself up to sit on top of the edge of the table and leaned her head on his shoulder.

“Wait, what are you-“

“Shhh. I’m tired and your shoulder is comfortable.”

“You- you can’t just!”

“I’m sleeping, you can’t just disturb a sleeping person.” She leaned in towards his neck.

He could feel her warm breath ghosting over his skin. It sent shivers racing down his spine, but a bubbly warmth rose up in his chest again. He thought it was going to rush out in an endless stream of words he wasn’t quite ready to say yet. The only word that came to his mind was yours.

He was. He really was. He wasn’t quite sure what exactly Sunny had done to capture his heart and soul like this, but if she asked for it, he would give it to her. Even if she would probably break it a million times over. He would give her everything he had.

What was it about her smile that made him feel like the world would last another day just because it was so beautiful? Why did every one of her freckles match a beauty he thought belonged only to stars in the endless night sky?He look over at her and he was reminded of how the sharp knife had stopped his breath last night. Where it was sharp, she was soft, sleepy smiles and gripped hands. Where the blade was dangerous, she was a source of comfort, warm nights with warm words and even warmer touches that held them through until the morning. How could he have ever thought the two were the same when they were so different in every way? Her eyes, endless pools of an abyss he could stare into for days, held so much emotion it hurt just to look at it. They quirked up, asking what he was doing, and it felt like the world itself dropped from beneath his feet. What was the world anymore, if he could comp-

“Your hair is getting so long.” She murmured, interrupting his trance. Sunny reached for a particularly long strand and lazily twirled it around her finger. He almost reached for it self-consciously until he remembered the dough covering his fingers. The dough! He was baking bread! Not now, obviously. But he was supposed to be!

He ripped his attention away from her and focused it solely on the bread before him.

It was hard when Sunny was right next to him, entranced by something as mundane as hair and looking like a dream from the heavens. Bread!

“It is getting a bit too long.” He said, desperately hoping his voice wouldn’t betray his heart today.

“I could braid it back if you want?” She suggested and oh, the thought of Sunny focused solely on him, tongue stuck out and eyebrows furrowed, was just a bit too much to handle.

“Uh, ah- I was actually planning to just cut it off.” He lied. Nope, nope, nope. He would most likely combust if she wove her fingers through his hair for something so mundane when he could do it himself.

He pushed the dough aside, finally ready to be baked, and brushed his hair back with his fingers. It was actually getting a little too long for his tastes.

“I guess I probably should trim it a little.” He murmured, eyeing the knife on the table.

He still really didn’t want to touch it.

He was staring at it for an awfully long time. Felicity didn’t miss how he was spacing out. And how his side of the bed was so cold when she woke up. And the way he was so jittery and shaky when she startled him.

“Do you want me to cut your hair?” She offered. He looked at her with wide eyes, as if he couldn’t believe what she was offering. “Don’t worry, I’ll make sure you look as hot as usual.” She added with a wink, watching the pink creep over his face.

“It- me? It’s really, I mean I don’t thi-“ He stammered.

Sometimes when she was bored, Felicity would imagine how much he would stammer if she kissed him. Probably a lot.

“Come on, there’s better lighting outside.” For such a tall man, he was easily moved. She could drag him and he literally wouldn’t fight back. It was a little concerning sometimes.

She took the dark locks of hair in her hand and poised the knife above her fist.

“Wait! I need to.... uh...” Deep breaths, it was just a little bit of responsibility. She could handle something as small as that. “Wash! I need to wash your hair!”

“Huh?”

“You’re supposed to wash hair before you cut it!”

“I… I suppose?”

“Just… wait there!” Felicity dashed inside and came out with a bucket of water and soap. “Sit over on the porch.” She ordered when he tried to get up and help her.

“You’re so bossy.”

“I am, thanks for noticing.” She sat behind him, slowly working the bubbly lather into his black hair. He leaned into her hands massaging the soap into his hair. Heart, you need to stop racing right now. There was nothing even inherently romantic, this was just so domestic and peaceful. Birds were singing in the trees and he was humming along lightly in harmony. The crisp morning air was starting to warm up enough for rays of light to dapple over them. It was beautiful in a way that never needed to try.

It was perfect.

She rinsed the suds out of his hair and wrung the water out of his hair with oddly skilled ease for someone who had rarely touched anyone else’s hair before. Soon enough, she ran out of things to procrastinate with. Deep breath. It’s going to be okay. It’s just hair.

She picked up the knife and held it firmly in her hands. It was extremely different from a sword. Swords were held towards an opponent, defensively drawn. This needed to be held to the side, working in tandem with her hands and his hair. Gah. The knife was placed firmly behind the hair and she held the hair firmly as the blade cut through the hair.

“I did it…” She mused, the lock of hair shining like a trophy in her hand.

“Why do you sound so shocked?” He laughed, but his smile quickly dropped. “Wait, you have done this before, right?”

“Nope!” Felicity chirped, cutting the hair off right below his neck.

“Wait, hold on-“ He protested before turning his head to look at her. Against the knife. Which was still against his neck.

His hand flew up to where her own had been and came away smeared in red.

“Oh…” His voice wobbled as he stared at the blood on his hand. His jaw twitched and set itself firmly, just like when he had an episode and he tried to pretend he was okay.

“Oh, goddess above, I’m so sorry!” Felicity resisted the urge to scream. It was an extremely unfortunate cut, considering how much blood was running down his neck. It... it was a lot.

“He... here. Hold... hold my hand aga-against the... thing.” His hand flickered with magic, but it was nowhere near his usual steady flame. It was crackling and broken and fizzled out before sparking up again.

“You can’t do it, can you?”

“I can! I just need to focus!”

She pushed his hand away.

“Teach me how to do it.”

“What? Now?”

“Yes. Right now. Teach me healing magic. Or may the Goddess help me, I will set my own hand on fire trying.”

They hadn’t tried anything with magic since what she had dubbed “the incident.” She was too scared of losing control again and he was probably still regretting hitting her with a damn frying pan. She didn’t mind. If anything, she was grateful he found some way to stop her before she hurt him.

“Teach me.” Felicity insisted, panic rising in her voice.

“Foc... focus your fi-fire. It... it pushes out the hu-hurt.”

She took a deep breath, feeling the underlying sensation he described as “fire” and thought of how she wanted to wash away all of the scars she had given him, all of the hurt she had caused.

How much she wanted to hold him and apologize for what she had done.

How much she was sorry.

A warm orange pulse lit up her fingers and drew closer to the fresh blood running down his back. It surged through the wound, healing the cut and barely leaving a scar. The change in his face was so clear, now that she knew what to look for. His jaw relaxed so subtly and his tensed hands unclenched. That little breath of relief he let out. When had she learned his tells and signs so well?

“How was that?”

He turned to look at her, studying her hands. Something about how intensely he looked at her made Felicity’s flutter. Even if it was just her hands. Even if she knew it would never be because she was beautiful. She knew she wasn’t. But a girl could dream.

“That was incredible. I don’t think I’ve ever healed like that.” Oh, and now he was holding her hand as if she was something precious and delicate. Wonderful. “Are you okay? Do you need to take a nap or do you want to have lunch?”

“I’m fine?” That… was an odd question…

“You aren’t tired? At all?”

“No? I actually feel really energized. Like I could run for miles.”

“Curious…”

He looked up at her face and oh, her heart had never felt more fragile. He was just so beautiful, it hurt to look at him in this moment, with the sun glowing behind him and his face filled with gorgeous curiosity. If there was a goddess, she had made him by hand. He was too beautiful to be made from the earth.

“I’m sorry.”

“For what?”

“…did you miss the part where you almost bled to death because of me?”

“You’re being dramatic. It wasn’t that bad. And besides, it was mainly my fault.”

“Still.”

“You healed it, didn’t you? That takes a lot of energy. I’d call it even.”

“I wouldn’t.” She pouted. Something by the corner of her eye caught Felicity’s attention. “Hold on.”

“What? You’re just going to get up and leave me here?”

“You big baby, you can get up if you want. But you can’t. Not yet. And close your eyes!”

“And yet I’m the childish one.”

“Shut up.” She threaded the strands through quickly, remembering the familiar rhythm.

“Can I open my eyes now?”

“No, and I said to shut up.” She shot back playfully. She stepped over to the porch and sat beside him, holding her gift with gentle hands.

“Now?” True to his word, his eyes were still shut, but the rest of his face seemed determined to make up for what emotion was lost with his eyes.

“Now.” Felicity almost buzzed with excitement.

“For… for me? You… you made a flower crown? For me?” He stared at the cheerful wild orchids braided together.

“Yep!” She fixed it over his hair, which apparently curled as it dried. Why did he have to be so gorgeously perfect? The bright purple was stark against his black hair and fell over his eyes. He touched it in awe, a blush rising in his face. So adorable. She could adore that look on his face for years, never growing tired of his innate allure.

“And now we’re even. You look wonderful.” But then again, that wasn’t too hard for him. He was eternally wonderful, inside and out.

If you liked this, please remember to like and reblog! Every little bit counts! (And yes, the corn was a reference to @notdingalingalingalingrita’s slideshow fanfiction thing, love ya Charles)

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#writing #writeblr #fluff #original characters #oc #my writing #please #i am asking politely #please reblog this

[i-sold-my-soul-to-house-wrath]

Pretend you’re writing a page in your diary 10 years from now

20 September 2031

Dear Diary,

Hi. It’s been a long time since I’ve done this so bear with me. It’s not every day I decide that writing memories and feelings down in a notebook that anyone can read would be worth it.

But anyway. I’m still here, aren’t I?

Wow. I’m still talking like Teen Me. Somethings never change, do they?

Nah. But going back to the ‘recording my feelings and emotions and days in a notebook’ part of the evening…

Huh. Maybe I should write an intro. You know. Since the person reading this (and is precariously close to their impending death) should get to know me first and then get to be my therapist. In that order.

Hi. My name’s [M/N], but I go by Kitai now, the name I chose for myself back when I was fourteen. I’m a graphic designer working at a corporate and so far, life’s going pretty great. I have a beautiful girlfriend, have a spacious office of my own, moved out to live by myself, and work into the early hours of the morning (which Lili hates; she always says I wear myself out too much and if I didn’t watch it, I might be gravely ill, but she’s one to talk, that perfectionist hard worker *affectionately*). I also have many projects lined up, like working on the graphics of my upcoming web series that everyone’s telling me they’re looking forward to, new commissions for some digital art, and lots to write. Not to mention the shitty client I met today just… rejected my work. Literally threw my tablet at me.

What the heck?

The haughty look on her face as she told me my design was nowhere close to what she wanted at all and was in itself very bad, had me seeing red. I literally had to ball my fists and sit on them to try to quash the feeling of murdering her with bare hands right there. Ugh. To think I spent 6 whole hours getting it perfect, just for her to throw it in my face. Pun intended.

Not my fault she gave me such vague details about what she wanted. Told her exactly that and she looked like she was going to throttle me.

Then proceeded to tell me about how I was just slacking off and not putting any real work into it, and that it showed in my work.

Really?

By the end of that speech, I was practically vibrating in my seat. But when I put on a blank and bored expression, I think it pissed her off even more, thinking that maybe I didn’t care. But as she started again, I interrupted her, putting into polite words a piece of my mind and turned on my charming mode so that by the end of it, my tone said, “Hey. It’s alright. Please understand this and we can move on,” which I usually used while sweet-talking my boss. It worked! She looked a little less angry-frazzled and a little calmer and ready to explain what she wanted. Then it went smoothly for the most part. Phew!

I guess Lili was right. My charm and seeming sense of compassion did work wonders on people. Hah. I then asked her jokingly if that was what won her over. She swatted me away, smiling.

My girlfriend’s just amazing, isn’t she?

But that was already pretty obvious. Moving on (otherwise, we’d be stuck in a never-ending episode of ‘How Amazing Lili Is And How I Like To Boast Of It 24/7’ and I think that would defeat the point. So! Moving on…

I released the trailer for ‘Love Me Never’ at midnight last night!

...Technically it’s today morning but you get it.

You won’t believe how crazy everyone’s going in the comments! *squeals* I didn’t check until 5 minutes ago, and now I’m dying of happiness because everyone’s so excited about it and I love it because it’s my work they’re excited for, but also really nervous because I didn’t want to let them down.

I hope I don’t. I’ve worked too hard on it.

It’s also one of my dreams yet unfulfilled. But the moment Tuesday drops around… Darn. I can’t wait! *squeals again and does a tap dance around the room*

[Lili’s voice: Okay Sunny Bunny! Calm down! The glass is gonna break if you keep screeching like that!]

[*Cue me throwing a slipper at her*]

[Lili: *Dodges it and laughs* But in all seriousness, I really am happy for you love. You’ve worked so hard on it. You deserve all the praise, so stop making that nervous face. It’s going to be alright, you hear me? They’re going to love it.]

[*Cue certain noises that ought to be edited out XD*]

[*Insert Squidward’s voice* “A few moments later.”]

Oops, I need to go work! Boss is calling! Bye-bye~ Hopefully I’ll start writing more. Ja ne!

Loved writing this with a deadline btw. Hope it was to your liking!

#dove and kitai #kitai's asks #my writing