#i swear to God people have no sense of nuance anymore

[ingravinoveritas]

Following up on this excellent post from @nightgoodomens, it really is astonishing to see so many people in the GO fandom misunderstanding the characters/personalities of Aziraphale and Crowley. While I by no means am against people having head canons or differing interpretations, it has become frustrating to see people pushing their ideas about Aziraphale and Crowley onto others and declaring them to be official canon, leaving no room for any kind of discussion.

One of the things spoken about in the above linked post is the denigrating of Crowley, which seems to be a near constant in the fandom at this point, particularly in relation to the "apology dance" scene. (Which, to be fair, is chock full of soft!Dom Aziraphale vibes--thank you, Michael Sheen.) What seems to keep getting missed is that the entire apology dance routine is something that Aziraphale and Crowley do to each other. There is just as much of a possibility that Crowley sat there with a similarly smug look on his face and let out a guttural, snakey "Very nice" when Aziraphale did the dance in the years he listed off, because they play this game together.

Aziraphale and Crowley's relationship is one of equals, and I think this is also something people seem to not understand well. It seems as though a lot of fans who project themselves onto Crowley want to be taken care of, and so they want to believe the same of Crowley, and that the reason he wants to be taken care of is because he is broken. But someone doesn't have to be broken to want someone to take care of them. Sometimes the people who are a shambles on the outside can be dominant, just as sometimes the most buttoned up, put together people can also be submissive. And sometimes the people who look in control on the outside can feel not at all that way on the inside.

But this nuanced thinking seems to increasingly be difficult for many GO fans, particularly those who spend a great deal of time on social media, a place where people are either blindly praised or denigrated and torn down, and where such behavior greatly reinforces that binary, black-and-white mindset. We so badly want the world to be clear-cut--good vs. evil, heroes vs. bad guys--but very often that just isn't how things work. And it is exactly what Terry and Neil were trying to speak against in the GO book (and subsequently, the TV show).

The other thing that I think influences a lot of fans' perceptions about Aziraphale and Crowley is their chosen corporations (i.e., Crowley being thin and Aziraphale being plump). There is an automatic assumption that thin somehow equals more vulnerable, and for all of the emphasis that is placed on Aziraphale and Crowley being genderfluid/nonbinary/not subscribing to traditional gender roles, it's Crowley who seems to be viewed as more androgynous/femme, and is therefore looked at as inherently vulnerable. Meanwhile Aziraphale is thicker and viewed as more masculine, and therefore he is somehow inherently not vulnerable. Yet if the body types were reversed, it seems highly likely that fans' attitudes toward them would be much different.

(It also saddens me that this seems to mirror the fans' treatment of Michael and David, where Michael serves as a target for the fans' venom and is seen as less desirable/more threatening because he presents more traditionally masculine, while David is not targeted or attacked and is seen as more desirable/less threatening because he presents much more androgynously. Consequently, many fans find it easy not to sympathize with Michael, and when you can readily disregard someone's feelings, it becomes easier to see them as "less." In the case of Aziraphale and Michael, it leaves no room for either one to be vulnerable and is unfair to both of them.)

What I have always taken away from Good Omens--and from Michael and David's portrayal of Aziraphale and Crowley and how deeply they both understand these characters--is that Crowley doesn't need to be a perfect angel for Aziraphale to like him. He just needs to be a little bit of a good person. And Aziraphale doesn't need to be a perfect demon for Crowley to like him--he just needs to be enough of a bastard to be worth knowing. Neither one has to fully subscribe to the other's outlook or point of view to listen to what they have to say.

Aziraphale and Crowley meet in the middle. In the place that becomes their side, and where they take care of each other, fight with each other, and love each other. And that's more than most of us could ever ask or hope for...

#good omens #aziraphale #crowley #michael sheen #welsh seduction machine #david tennant #soft scottish hipster gigolo #ineffable husbands #i think this is also why so many fans can't handle honest criticism of GT and AL #in their minds either someone is completely good or completely terrible #there's no middle ground to just see someone as they are #i swear to God people have no sense of nuance anymore #i've had it officially.gif #also Michael yelling about Aziraphale being a bottom in 2019 was more galaxy brained than any of us even knew #PhD level of understanding of the assignment #bless his bisexual Welsh chaos #fandom woes #thoughts #discourse

[seasurfacefullofclouds1]

Sea, i still remember when Louis debuted Habit at CCME and we heard the verse i took some time cos i’ve ran out of energy of playing someone i heard i’m supposed to be.. i was so over the moon because finally, FINALLY we got the song he tweeted the lyrics of. I remember the gasp from the girl who was recording the performance. We all recognised the lyrics.

Larries spoiled it big time.

CCME was a huge shock to me. I think I expected more songs like Back to You or Miss You, which are genre songs with a different persona than the Louis on Walls: someone tough and sardonic, hard and wry. Someone who lost love and looked back with humor, anger, and bitterness.

When I heard Too Young, Habit, Defenceless… I swear to god I fucking lost it. It was like hearing Louis read aloud from a diary or slicing himself open to tell his story. It was a wholly different voice, like the line you cited, “Took some time ‘cause I ran out of energy/ of playing someone I heard I’m supposed to be/ But honestly, I don’t have to choose anymore.” I guess before that, I didn’t “get” this Louis who was inside him all along. It’s the Louis who patiently explains the album in the Track by Track videos, who had the passion, the wit and elegance to make the Walls music videos with Charlie, who unveiled the tracklist in a rainbow mural, who thinks of every detail for his fans because his empathy and kindness are through the roof.

His empathy is his greatest asset and his weakness. Louis loves people completely, and he trusts the people he loves despite his experiences of heartbreak and betrayal (“this one is a thank you for what you did to me”). He can’t love any other way. Throughout Walls, we can hear that Louis has worked out his heartbreak and he doesn’t regret loving someone in the first place: there’s no point. Knowing what he knew, he still wouldn’t have chosen differently.

The genius of the end of that line, “Took some time ‘cause I ran out of energy/ of playing someone I heard I’m supposed to be/ But honestly, I don’t have to choose anymore.”

The anymore.

I know we’ve lost the appreciation of this subtlety because of the screaming in the Princess Park line, but look at the elegance of this songwriting.

In one sense, “anymore” is resigned and sad because of a past experience that feels implicitly traumatic. He has been disappointed and deeply wounded. On the other hand, “anymore” sounds like freedom— like a release from care, a resolve, a little pep talk to oneself to be authentic and honest. This contradiction of feeling is conveyed in one word, rapped quickly at the end of the line, off the beat, a throwaway utterance that changes the entire nuance of the line. This is masterly songwriting economy and wit— you can’t really do the same thing in poetry, which is visual. Only in song. It shows a human mind always evaluating his experience, trying to learn and understand it in a generous, forgiving way.

So yeah. It’s all there if we listen to him.

#habit songwriting

[ash-etherwood]

Top 5: writing memories, songs, characters that are not blank rune, runes, food

♡

Linda I love you but are you trying to kill me … that’s so many Top 5’s! But alright, I’ll do my best! (Answers will probably switch between German and English RIP to every non-German-speaker who follows me and wants to read this for some reason I swear I’m normal)

WRITING MEMORIES

5.) The entire time I spent finishing my first (second?) longer writing project It was the year 2012 and it was a cyberpunk story about my friends’ and my edgy self inserts riding dinosaurs, fighting aliens and being badass. The plot twist in the end was that my character was secretly evil and wanted to kill everyone. (Things to show your therapist) The final boss fight made zero sense and also everything was incredibly weird and stupid. But sometimes I still think about those times when I sat in my grandma’s living room at night, eating chips and listening to Vocaloid covers while thinking this story was the coolest shit ever. Truly simpler times.

4.) Researching something about universities in Texas for OvF on a rainy Saturday afternoon I have no idea why this memory is still sticking with me to this day (I think it was around 2016 or something?), but I remember that it was just a really nice day and I felt really at peace at that moment?

3.) The entire writing process of Bathroom Blues It was such a spontaneous project and I still have no idea how I managed to power though it in just a little under two months! Also it was just incredibly fun seeing you getting excited over new drafts and I loved coming up with new plot points and Halloween costumes for everyone with you. :-D Truly a summer worth remembering.

2.) FINALLY uploading the prologue and intro chapter of WWBL Not really a writing memory, but that moment was … so sexy and magical. Seriously, you have no idea how long I had been waiting to finally start that story, waiting for the Steckbriefe to roll in and see people react to the prologue and generally the idea … I even made one of those countdown graphic thingies for the designated upload date! 8D At that point I had planned that story for about six months and just … yeah, that felt powerful to me.

1.) Writing the prologue for WWBL When I first started the draft for that prologue I was sitting at the window in my favourite hotel in Winterberg, Sauerland, wore my dark green flannel, had the window wide open breathing in the cool mountain air and allowed myself to listen to my WWBL playlist for the very first time. God, that felt so amazing. I even have a photo of it (which somehow makes it look like I have the biggest football shoulders in the universe) my sister took that night. God I miss Sauerland. )’:

- - - - -

SONGS

My apologies to every favourite song of mine that I forgot about, I have a whole playlist of them, but I think these are some of my oldest faves … (Honorable mentions for Don’t Mess With Me and Not That Big by Temposhark, Goodbye by Apparat, Me And The Devil by Soap&Skin, Heart Heart Head by Meg Myers, Pain and Animal I Have Become by Three Days Grace, Beautiful Crime by Tamer, Gravity Of Love by Enigma, In Flames by Digital Daggers [thanks Phi u_u] and Murder Cries by Snow Ghosts AHHH FUCK IT I could’ve just made a playlist,,,)

5.) Vater Unser by E Nomine Starting off with some weird shit, won’t we? I’ve been in love with this song since fifth or sixth grade, when I was just starting to develop an actual music taste and although I have many favourite songs by E Nomine, this one has to be my absolute fave. Every time I can relate it to a character it makes me love said character even more. (Also I think about it every time my mom forces me to go to church for Christmas so … yay? I’m pretty sure I wouldn’t even be able to remember the Vater Unser if it wasn’t for this song. 8D)

4.) Wires by The Neighbourhood I think this is the newest all-time fave on this list, I found it in … 2015? Thank you, Youtube AMVs. Yeah man, this one is just … on so many playlists it’s not even funny anymore.

3.) Heathens by Twenty One Pilots An edgelord classic but like … it’s on EVERY playlist of mine. Every single one. It’s just so good. The first time I heard it was on the radio tho, when I was having breakfast with Jessie and I forced her to shazam it because it immediately stuck with me,,,

2.) Imaginary by Evanescence My first Evanescence song ever and the first step towards becoming who I am today I think. This song has like … such a big history for me, man. It single-handedly turned me goth in 2008 and I have never really thanked it for that.

1.) Eternal by Evanescence Might be my favourite song of all time. The number of dramatic RP scenes I have written with this in the background … man. Oh, also this song is the reason for one of my oldest internet nicknames, ‘eternala’, which subsequently shortened into Etschuh and then Tschuh, my main nickname until 2017, when I came out as trans and finally found an actual name for myself I was comfortable with!

- - - - -

NON BLANK RUNE CHARACTERS

I know this was probably supposed to be about fandom characters but I can literally not come up with a single character right now that I love with a special burning passion and that is not my or one of my friends’ OCs so you’re getting OCs now. u_u And boy do I have a lot of those.

5.) Jackson Tracey from atroCITY (mine) This little piece of shit kept me company for a pretty long time and is still very close to my heart for some reason, although I haven’t drawn him or really thought about him in detail for a while now. My favourite thing is how I only realized what a horrible person he was after I stopped regularly working with him but honestly good for me. 8D His storyline and personality is kinda convoluted and tbh I’m not really sure how much of it is canon anyway (atrc was always a little weird about canon rip) but yeah. He’s an obsessive stalker piece of shit who pities himself way too much and he is also a semi-immortal demigod who likes knives. I hate him but he also helped me a lot with some gender and sexuality stuff so thanks I guess.

4.) Mayoko Imai from Century Riders DXPrototype (Maus’ and mine) Mayoko is a magical girl protagonist with a cool cyborg arm prosthetic and her main character trait was that she was basically a reverse weeaboo, a Japanese girl who was obsessed with American media, culture and comic book heroes! I actually love her concept a lot and she also had a pretty cool character arc in her story (which Maus and I wrote together and actually finished btw!), although it could use a lot more … polishing from today’s point of view. But I love her anyway. She always wanted to do the right thing and be a hero and got broken pretty cruelly and her ending is kinda bittersweet I guess? Ahh there’s just so much nuance to it … anyways, CR3 also stuck with me for a very long time and I enjoyed the time with her a lot. :3 (Her name had a cameo in Another Incident btw heehee)

3.) Tessa *insert extremely long chain of unnecessary first names here* von Lean from Nobody Is Perfect and Infernal Temptation (belongs to one of my old school friends) Tessa is just … a hand full. I love to hate her. She is badly written and developed and just OOZES mentally ill teenage girl’s idealized self-insert power fantasy, but she just … man, she was a big part of one of my most drama-filled high school friendships which I love looking back at so much. Tessa has fucked so many of my characters … good for her tbh! There are actually two versions of her, one is just a ‘normal’ teenage girl and one can shapeshift into a cheetah, but both of them are very close to my heart. I should really adopt and redesign her some day.

2.) Judy Khayat from Original vs. Final (mine) Look, I love all my OvF-characters and every single one of them is special to me in their own way, but Judy is just … the most complex of them all I think? Man, she went through so much … she is actually one of my oldest (semi)-active characters (I created her in 2009) and her latest version is from 2016 but I should really, REALLY revise her again tbh. She has a very complicated backstory that I didn’t handle as carefully as I should have, and anger issues and religious conflict and depression and PTSD and then Vance of all people becomes obsessed with her for no reason and decides to traumatize her even more … yeah. God I really love her but I seriously need to work on her. A LOT. I should also finally rename her tbh … let’s just see where she takes me next.

1.) Okami (I don’t even remember if she has a proper last name rn lol) from Split Realm (mine) Yeah, that bitch is just my favourite OC. She’s also very old, probably from around 2009, and initially was a magical girl with fire powers who I played in an RP with my friend Flauch but boy did she grow up! Holy fuck. Okami is a horrible person but I love her so much. She is so violent and full of anger and pain and sadness and treats everyone around her like shit and she is in love and she is a demon but also apparently the personification of the concept of Chaos but she just wants to be a teenager again and run away with the love of her life and ahhh it’s all so hopeless for her … also she turned out gnc af with time passing and pretty much went through a gender/sexuality crisis in real time with me, her creator, which is always fun. :^D I haven’t drawn her in a while tbh. Should really do that.

- - - - -

RUNES IN BLANK RUNE

I’m just gonna go with the arcs here, okay? Also this entire answer might look completely different if you asked me again tomorrow, you know how indecisive I am with Blank Rune shit ahha,,,

5.) Jera Look. I know I’m boring and stupid. But I just love Tave and Liam having their disgusting little foreshadowing talk, okay? I can read it over and over. I just love my horrible little shit crime boys. Also Rhy and Phillip are there. (’:

4.) Isa This one is here because it was the first arc I witnessed in real time which gives it a very special place in my heart and it also … hit pretty hard at the time. But having read Fehu it’s become even better now! It’s just such a wonderful, tragic romance between two horrible, ruthless boys and I … I’m not immune to Rhy, sadly. :-/ Just like Phillip.

3.) Wunjo We still haven’t seen everything that leads up to Wunjo yet, but we DO know more than we did initially (wow shocker) and it’s just always a fucking blast. Also, it has the first mention of Ash’s real name … the first Rhy POV (which what the fuck!! I always feel like we had one before but we didn’t!! Wild) and it has crazy blood-soaked murder Tave, my beloved. :///3

2.) Eiwaz You guys have heard me fanboy about Eiwaz so many times already. Eiwaz-OT3 (and Kain) my beloved!!! It’s just SUCH an amazing starting point and there are so, so many things that tie back to it and every time we find out about a new one my heart makes a little jump … und es beginnt von Neuem indeed.

1.) Gebo One of the most painful but also the most beautiful arcs yet in my opinion. It’s been hyped up for so long and boy did it deliver. God, my heart still hurts when I think about that last scene. Also all the dialogue … the golden lines we got … and it’s an arc without Rhy! Crazy!! :-D I just love the relationship between Ash, Astrid and Jakob so much. God fuck I want what they have. Just maybe without the murder suicide,,,

- - - - -

FOOD

5.) Diese Sonntagsbrötchen wo die Verpackung so plopp macht, wenn man die Folie abzieht Better than normale Brötchen for some reason. Most of the time. See 2.) Look man, I just really love a good breakfast …

4.) Chocolate cupcakes with cream cheese topping One of the first things from a certain baking book I tried when I was getting into baking back in 2019. God they are so tasty. I don’t make them often so I don’t get used to them too much and eating them still feels special but ahhhh I love them so much!

3.) Grünkohl mit Kartoffelbrei und Mettendchen One of my favourite things about autumn/winter and one of my biggest comfort foods. God I love this shit so much. I just put … mountains of Grünkohl and Kartoffelbrei on my plate every time and I will just warm it up for four days straight until there’s no more left. It turns me into a fucking caveman. I’m not even big on eating meat but … yeah. Everything is different when there’s Grünkohl.

2.) Normales Brötchen mit Butter und Scheibenkäse aber ich bin beim Frühstücksbuffet im Hotel Oddly specific but that’s just how it is. Sorry. Nichts geht über Brötchen mit Käse.

1.) Chilli-Knoblauch-Nudelauflauf My beloved. My comfort food. I eat it literally every second day. At least one hour in the kitchen every time. Fresh ingredients. My only vegetable intake. And I’ve been doing that for three years. I just love it so much, man. I cook it for everyone who visits me. Chilli-Knoblauch-Auflauf cured my depression.

#ask #crimsondaisy #2.4k works of me talking about myself under the cut rip #thank you tho!!!

[hopeswriting]

Credit image: @noaa​ - Unsplash

Edit image: Pixlr/Canva

Fandom: Katekyo Hitman Reborn

Title: The Nuances of a Wrathful Sky

Author: @hopeswriting​​

Rating: T

Pairing: Varia & Xanxus

POV: Third Person Limited, Alternating

Summary: Xanxus doesn’t want, nor looks for, and definitely doesn’t need Guardians. His Guardians find him all the same when he needs them the most (not like he’ll ever admit that aloud), and then just never leave.

Themes: Formation of Varia, Varia’s Backgrounds, The Craddle Affair, Minor or Background Varia Arc

Chapter: 1/? (2057 words)

Squalo wasn’t predestined to be a swordsman, nor the way of the sword called him or chose him or any of that shit.

Squalo decided he wanted to wield a sword. He wanted to spill the blood of his enemies, to stain his weapon and clothes with it, wanted to watch the pain and struggle and despair on their face.

Squalo wanted to be close enough to them to not miss the moment they’d realize he was the death of them, but far enough away so they couldn’t retaliate easily.

He chose the sword and worked to make it an extension of his arm, of his whole body; worked to make it so no other weapons would ever feel so right in his hand.

Whiny Dino splutters and panics and is being his usual pathetic self when he tells him he wants to travel the world to master his technique.

Squalo snatches him by the collar. There’s worry and fear in his eyes of all things, as if Squalo can’t take him on any day, any moment.

“Voi, don’t order me around you scum. I’ll do whatever the hell I want.”

“But Squalo—” There’s a flickering determination in brown eyes, and Squalo considers letting it come to life fully. It’s not often he succeeds to goad the clumsy Sky in a serious fight.

He gets Dino on his tip toes, tightening his grip on his collar, cutting off his breathing. “Don’t insult me Cavallone, who do you think you’re talking with?” A dangerous grin splits his face from ear to ear. “You’re looking at the best swordsman of this generation.”

*

The first thing Squalo learns on his journey is what defeat tastes like. It tastes like looming death, like unfulfilled cravings and a bleeding pride. This one defeat is tainted by mercy, which adds a sharp, sour taste of anger and disdain at the back of his tongue.

“Voi, what do you think you’re doing? Kill me before I kill you.”

“Why are you in such a hurry to die?” the swordmaster says. “I gave you the fight you wanted. I did not hold back either, merely matched my skills to yours. You survived. The way of the sword didn’t let you down just yet.”

“What kind of bullshit is that?” Squalo spits out. He doesn’t live in a world so kind he’ll be given second chances. Victory is living to see the next fight while defeat is death. There’s no room for draws in Squalo’s world. “Kill me before I kill you,” he says again.

The swordmaster turns his back to him and walks away. Squalo crawls to his sword and stands back up. The swordmaster goes down.

*

Squalo continues his journey, tackles on Italy first then Europe, goes to Africa and America, roams the streets of Asia and doesn’t forget Australia. He challenges all the masters he can find, their refined styles clashing against Squalo’s simple sword, which gets deadlier each time he leaves in his wake corpses he dragged down from their pedestal.

They call his first win against a swordmaster a fluke, call him a child who’ll get burn by the fire he’s playing with sooner than later. The second swordmaster he kills is deemed too sloppy, the third one too soft. The fourth one and all the others after him expect him, know better than to underestimate him, don’t hide their killing intent from him. Squalo gives back as good as he gets. Squalo is still the last one standing, and is quick to move on to his next prey

It’s particularly delightful to watch the so-called flawless, strongest and invincible style of the swordmaster and his two apprentices crumbles under his blows. There’s no such thing as a flawless, strongest and invincible style. Squalo swears only by his sword but it’s a truth he acknowledges. It’s a truth he won’t make the mistake to ever forget.

When the Varia tries to recruit him, he’s known and respected as The Ravenous Shark who always finds himself where the blood smells the strongest, and never leaves without a new fresh layer of red trailing his steps.

*

Squalo goes to the Varia headquarters to refuse their offer and gets them off his back. As “independent” they may be they’re still Vongola, and he’s none-too keen to be ordered around.

A step in the mansion and all of his body tenses under the weight of Sky flames all over the place. The undercurrent of anger and violence, the sheer threat of the flames behind their calm aspect isn’t lost on him—it wouldn’t be lost even on the dumbest of dumb fucks on this world.

It’s not a display of power, Squalo knows right away. It’s not a demand for submission either, nor the Sky offering himself up for eventual courtships. This Sky just doesn’t care who his flames reach or who’d be suicidal enough to take it as a challenge. This Sky simply doesn’t see the point to have his flames in a leash.

Squalo mercilessly reigns his Rain flames in lest they lash out blindly, lest they try and submit to the Sky flames, or—god forbid—try and court them.

The Sky is a he, and the utter fury in his eyes is like nothing else Squalo ever seen. His flames thrash and bite and purr, eager to see if they can drown the man—the boy really, and how strange to think they’re about the same age—before they get burn to ashes. The Sky turns his gaze on him, and Squalo’s bloodlust finds a Home at last, strong enough to never need from him any restraint. (Squalo could have been claimed before, truly. But he has no need for a Sky who can encompass him only when he limits himself.)

He walks forward to meet his Sky, the most sure he has ever been in his life, without having any idea on how it’ll play out.

*

Tyr lies dead at his feet after two long days of battle. Squalo looks down at his bloody sword and sees the embodiment of his ambitions. He looks at his bleeding, exhausted and painful body, and sees the proof of his resolve. Squalo looks at his lost left hand and sees the depth of his loyalty.

Squaring the accounts of the battle, washing away the blood spilled*—this is how The Requiem Rain is born.

(Squalo knows there’s a lot of swordmasters he has still to meet and defeat. Knows there’s a lot of swordsmen out there who can challenge him on the title he covets he has to find and eliminate. He doesn’t worry about them. He’s still young after all, there’s no need to rush his pleasure.)

*

Xanxus tells him of his plan, and it’s not a show of trust. It’s sure as hell not a call for help. At most it’s some kind of test, but either way Squalo doesn’t care. (Both of them are letting their hair grow, they’re past needing any show of trust.)

“We’ll need more people of our level for this.”

“I don’t need anyone.”

“Voi,” Squalo cries in indignation, “of course I can take on these Vongola scums on my own too! But you know better than me Nono isn’t to be underestimated. You can’t spare any strength on some underlings if you want to win.”

Xanxus throws his whiskey at him because he said “if”, but he doesn’t disagree.

In a near future and the years to come, when Squalo will have the urge to stab to death or cut the others useless Varia officers heads off, he’d stop and remember just who he has to thank for that. It won’t stop him from trying—if anything, it’ll make him try harder.

*

Someone sold them out, Squalo has no doubt about it. He looks forward to the fight to decide who’ll be the one to kill the traitor, but he knows Xanxus won’t let this particular kill in anyone else hands.

They successfully make their way through the mansion anyway, taking full advantage of Vongola’s hesitation and confusion when they realize they’re fighting their own.

Vongola Nono is a monster on his own right because of course he is. They land some blows, make for a decent challenge, but Squalo isn’t fooled. Vongola Nono isn’t even fighting with his all, doesn’t bother to show them this bare minimum of respect.

When both of them think he’s out cold, words are spoken he could never have imagined, and everything about Xanxus suddenly makes so much more sense. Did Vongola actually expected any other outcome? How delusional of them.

The ice caught Xanxus in his peak of fury, his face all harsh features, his eyes hateful and unforgiving, his hand outstretched in what was meant to be a killing blow. The ice is so incredibly cold against his palm it’s easy to forget it’s not Dying Will Flames; seeps through skin and bones and makes his flames recoil in such a way it can be nothing else but Dying Will Flames. Squalo can’t reach back to his Sky.

“You’re one pathetic man, old man.” But what to say of him then? About how useless he was in his Sky’s hour of need, how useless he is still now, to not be able to carve a new path for them towards their goal. Pathetic doesn’t even begin to cover it, Squalo doesn’t hold himself to such low standards.

“Stop the attack Squalo,” the old man says, sounding so much like the understanding and saddened grandfather he likes to pretend he is, Squalo thinks maybe he really forgot the cold-blooded, ruthless ruler he truly is. “Call back your men. You lost, there’s no need for anymore blood to spill.”

“Do you think this is over? Do you think this will stop him? That your ice froze even his ambitions, his Will?” Xanxus is still alive, as distant and barely there anymore his bond feels. This doesn’t have to be the end. Levi is Raging as they’re talking, and Bel’s bond took on a single-minded focus different from his childish glee from before. But this isn’t what Squalo is asking.

“It’s over,” the old man only says.

Squalo slams his fist against the ice, points his broken sword at him. “Voi, you foolish old man,” he roars, but his voice lowers in an even tone then. “This is only the beginning, can’t you even guess that?” Xanxus is still alive, and if he didn’t kill him now he won’t kill him later. It’s his mistake, maybe the last he’ll ever make. “Xanxus will be back, and when he does we’ll be there. We’ll be ready.” Squalo trusts the man to not be senile enough he doesn’t take his words as the threat they are.

*

Squalo learns that day defeat and failure aren’t the same thing, don’t sink their claws in the soul at the same depth. He learns how easy one is to overcome and forgive, and is too prideful and loyal to let the other be the same.

“The day will surely come when you’ll be thankful you made me your ally*,” Squalo had say to him. He thinks about those words a lot when dealing with the fallout of their failed Coup. Thinks about how they’re there to deal with it while Xanxus is restrained in a prison made of ice.

They’re both still alive, he says to himself when his own words haunt him. Others days will come both of them will be able to share and enjoy. He still can make good of his promise—he will.

*

Eight years later he is send on a hunt to retrieve the rings his Boss needs to make his ambition a reality. Squalo’s hair reaches his waist, a reminder of what he stands for and who he stands with for all the world to see. Xanxus’s hair doesn’t, and it’s a reminder his resolve and strength failed him once.

He won’t fail this time.

*

*: Direct quotes from Amano Akira.

Thank you for reading! If you’re interested in more here are the links on ao3 and ff.net.

#wip tws #katekyo hitman reborn #khr #khr fanfic #wip khr varia

[damienthepious]

Co-stars AU Megamind - Roxanne

caveat that i know very little about the actual practicalities of how making movies actually works with a real budget and shit, or how acting contracts/agents/etc work. but i liked how this turned out regardless, and it actually felt long enough for a title. bless

Typecast

There wasn’t any netting or padding below Roxanne, which was kind of terrifying considering that the outfit the costume department had dressed her in allowed exactly zero room for a harness underneath the fabric. She was pressed back against the window of a fake high-rise, the ledge beneath her heels slightly wider than it appeared from the angle of the camera. Theoretically, all she had to do was stand and press herself against the glass and call for help. It wasn’t the best role, obviously, but at least some of the other scenes gave her a bit of interesting dialogue, and if she could just nail this, then maybe- maybe the next role-

Her heel wobbled and she jerked back in alarm, and the director swore and called cut. Roxanne let her shoulders sag. “Sorry, sorry, it’s just starting to get a little- slippery up here,” she said, hoping the laugh that came with the words didn’t sound too forced.

“It’s whatever,” the director said, which was discouraging. “Reset, reset all of it and we’ll go from the start again. Just- try to angle yourself more, yeah Roxie? We gotta see your face and if the wind is blowing the hair-”

“Can’t you move the fans?” Roxanne tried again. “If you want me to be looking at where-”

“I think I know what I’m doing, Roxie.”

Roxanne smiled with bright fury, an automatic response at this point. “Of course.”

Another take, the ‘wind’ buffeting her against the glass as she tried to make whining ‘oh please won’t someone help me’ sound in any way natural while also trying not to actually plummet down to the concrete ground beneath her, and when Stewart called cut she closed her eyes for a moment and hoped that her performance had been good enough to make this bullshit stop for like, twenty goddamn minutes, at least-

“Reset! Another one, go again, come on I don’t wanna waste any more time.”

“What was wrong with that one?” Roxanne called out, trying to sound enthusiastic. “What can I do better?”

“Y’gotta stop making that face, Roxie,” he called out, and Roxanne was desperately glad that she couldn’t see his goddamn face behind all the lights aimed at her. 

“Face?” She chimed lightly.

“All scrunched up and like, tense and shit.”

“…. you want me to look less worried?”

“More worried! More worried but keep your face smooth!”

“So I have to… look scared, but not frown at all?” Roxanne asked in a voice of spiderweb-thin ice. 

“Yeah! Exactly! Let’s go again-”

“What in the… that looks extraordinarily unsafe.” 

The voice was new in the room, but Roxanne recognized it even though she couldn’t see the source through all of the lights. Megamind, the troublemaking former rock-star gone actor. He had to be here to film his cameo, for that scene near the end-

“Cut,” Stewart snarled, and then Roxanne heard the exact moment he realized who had interrupted him. “Oh- hey, dude, you’re kinda early-”

“Where is the harness?" Megamind failed utterly to acknowledge what the director was actually saying, and he strode directly onto the set beneath her, his sharp green eyes narrowing up at her and oh shit, he looked genuinely furious. Handsome as hell, too, but dangerously angry. Maybe his reputation was actually true, then. Maybe the reason he was typecast exclusively as villains was actually his attitude and not his appearance- maybe he actually was a terror on set, despite his sheer talent. “Are you comfortable up there?”

Or- maybe not?

“What?” she called down on autopilot, though she had heard him well enough.

He scowled, then snapped his head to look at someone to the side of the set. “Turn that wind machine off immediately, thank you.” His tone brooked no argument and the wind cut off as immediately as desired, though Stewart yelped a protest in the background. “I said, are you actually comfortable up there, Miss Ritchi? Those heels don’t quite look compatible with that ledge.”

Roxanne laughed weakly. “I- uh, I mean-” Megamind was still staring up at her, but she was more conscious of other eyes on her right now, the crew and the director in particular, waiting to see what she said.

“You don’t look comfortable,” he prodded.

“She’s not supposed to look comfortable,” Stewart called from out of sight. “She’s supposed to be in distress!”

“Her character is,” Megamind corrected.

“I wanted the reactions to be authentic, dude, don’t you get method? C’mon-”

“So you’re saying that you don’t trust her acting ability enough to successfully emulate the role you hired her for without actively putting her in danger?”

There was a beat of silence, and Roxanne felt a pulse of yes, thank you, god, but it was superseded by the absolute certainty that she was about to lose this job.

“Stop. You’re going to get me in trouble,” Roxanne hissed down at him between her teeth. “He’ll say I’m ‘difficult to work with’ and I’ll never get a role this big again, don’t screw this up for me-”

“You’ll get even less roles if you let him break your neck for his perfect shot,” Megamind retorted, full volume as the director sputtered behind him. “Come down and I’ll put you on the phone with my lawyer, and you can discuss exactly how many ways this mediocre auteur has abused your safety on this set.”

Roxanne hesitated for a long moment, then nodded. “I- uh, don’t actually know how I was supposed to get down from here, to be honest.”

Megamind looked, if anything, even angrier as he turned and snapped at a couple of crew members to grab a ladder already, and soon Roxanne on her way back to ground level, Megamind lifting a hand to her to help her wobble the last few rungs down the ladder. Stewart was still swearing and apparently hitting his chair in the background, though he seemed too terrified to come within ten feet of Megamind. Roxanne was substantially less intimidated.

“Not that I don’t appreciate being spoken up for, but you do realize that it isn’t easy to get a role like this, right? I can’t be picky when I’m trying to establish-”

Megamind instantly raised his hands in surrender as they started walking together away from the high-rise set. “I know- I know, I’m terribly sorry, Miss Ritchi. I tend to let my mouth run away with me when idiots like that Schteward think they can bully a better performance out of someone.”

“You- I assumed you agreed to cameo on this project because you liked the director,” Roxanne said with a raised eyebrow. “I figured it couldn’t be because of Wayne. Everybody knows you two don’t get along anymore.”

“Because I liked- oh goodness no,” Megamind sneered, dramatically flicking his wrist in front of him as if shooing a fly. “That was just an unfortunate cost if I wanted to get the chance to- er, that is-”

Roxanne tilted her head, trying to make sure that she wasn’t imagining the splash of pink flooding into his cheeks.

“It doesn’t matter anyway. Obviously I’ll be dropping out. He won’t want me on set anymore, no matter how much notoriety I would draw for him. I directly challenged him in the middle of filming. Someone with his ego won’t let that go lightly. And-” he sighed and shot her a guilty sideways glance, “likely he will lump you right in with me. Sorry about that. If you’d like, you can go back and loudly denounce me after we tighten up your contract and get you a better agent, if you want to finish this one up before your next role.”

Roxanne blinked. “You think I would just- go back and lie?”

He shrugged. “It’s your career, Miss Ritchi. I certainly wouldn’t blame you. I already have a reputation, and it wouldn’t hurt me any further for you to confirm it. I’m still going to get the roles I want regardless, so it makes perfect sense for you to distance yourself from me, since you don’t have that safety net yet.”

“That- that isn’t fair,” Roxanne said, brow furrowing. “Have people done that to you before? That’s horrible.”

He grinned a sharp little grin and shrugged. “Show business, Miss Ritchi. You’re just as familiar with it as I am.”

“No. That’s bullshit. I won’t throw you under the bus like that.”

The grin faded a little, surprise edging in at the corners of his expression. “That- well, that’s up to you, of course. But- you really shouldn’t risk your job for me any more than you already have.”

“It’s not for you, it’s just the right thing to do.” She stopped for a moment to kick her ridiculous heels off, opting to carry them instead. ”This was a shitty role anyway.”

“Well.” He laughed lightly. “I hope, then, that you’ll at least let me get you in touch with some other projects that will be casting, soon-”

“I appreciate the thought but I don’t need charity roles, Megamind.”

“Charity? No, I-” he flushed again, then bit his lip hard before he continued. “I’ve- I’ve seen your work before, Miss Ritchi, and I think you’ve been wildly, atrociously overlooked. You have this inherent charm and- and you always bring such nuance to roles that otherwise would have just been- and you do anger in this really fascinating way and-” he laughed, a nervous sound that he seemed to be using to make himself stop his jolting stream of words. “The only reason I even agreed to this idiotic villain cameo was because I thought- if Roxanne Ritchi is involved it might be worth- rather, if she’s attached, maybe this Schteward fellow isn’t as bad as they say he is. I was wrong about that part, but- well, you deserve to- you deserve a chance to- to work with people who will actually appreciate you. Is all.”

Roxanne stared at him as the words dried up, at the discomfort in his expression started to verge on panic, and thought, only an absolute asshole would think this guy is a problem to work with. And then, he’s actually even prettier in person than on screen, which should be both impossible and illegal. And after that, I did not imagine him blush three entire times while he talked about me. 

“Okay. We’ll call your lawyer,” she said, “and work out whatever- business we need to, and you can give me contact info for some casting directors if you really think I have a shot. And then I’d like your number, if you’d be willing to give it.”

Megamind made a wordless noise, then shook his head. “Of- of course, I mean, you would want to get in contact with me for reference, of course-”

“Not for reference.” Roxanne stopped, turning to face him properly with a smile tugging at her lips. “I’d like to take you out for coffee, sometime.” She paused while he stared. “Unless you wouldn’t like that. I imagine that you’re probably pretty busy-”

“No I would love to- I mean, of course I would like- coffee, with you, obviously I would like-” he clamped a hand over his mouth and then gave that nervous, awkward, charming laugh again. “Like- but, of course you don’t mean- like a date, Miss Ritchi?”

“Like a date.”Roxanne smiled in earnest, now. She couldn’t help it. “And- you can call me Roxanne, you know.”

“Oh,” Megamind said, his voice gone light and stunned. “Oh. I would like that very much, Roxanne.”

#margoteve #asks #*VIOLENTLY SHRUGS* #sometimes i remember how to write fic sometimes my brain WORKS #megamind #roxanne ritchi #elle's fanfic #i should post this to ao3 in the morning #mmmmmaybe

[violetsystems]

#personal

If I learned anything from my foray into amateur snow shoveling last week, it’s that nobody really pays attention to how anything gets done on the surface.  I learned this because I walk everywhere for the most part and sidewalks in Chicago are a mixed bag.  Luckily public transportation is about as good as it gets in any city in the world.  I spent years waking up at three am to take the bus down the street to the airport.  I was so bored and isolated before all of this that forty eight hour trips to New York were about as good as it gets.  I was let go in the middle of a pandemic last summer and travel hasn’t been an option for awhile.  The last two years I spent my birthday alone in New York during fashion week.  I don’t know if was a protest or a simply a statement of where I really wanted to be.  In the center of it all I guess.  I worked at an institution for two decades to be close to what I thought was culture.  This culture was heavily moderated by people with privilege so deep it would make the Illuminati blush.  The city isn’t much different with one exception.  You can’t really bury a legacy on the streets here.  To quote G Herbo modestly. “In my city I’m a god.”  In a city full of big money devout christians with piles of generational wealth that makes you a heretic and the enemy most likely.  I have nothing against faith.  But I’ve seen it used in America on levels that would make people think twice about calling it freedom.  And I’ve seen the ultra rich and powerful actively go against fair taxes, a woman’s right to choose, and do things that would make the SEC’s head rotate around in a circular fashion.  And I’ve seen people never blink an eye.  I’ve seen people in my professional network keep an eye on me but never ask how I’m doing.  I am a person who likes to communicate.  I believe when you really connect with a person that any interaction has it’s own language.  This goes for body language as much as it does to content participation.  People out here expect you to read into the nuances of everything without ever saying anything on record.  This is basically par for the course all around the world for as much as I have travelled alone.  I shudder to think sometimes if I didn’t develop the confidence to follow things through.  If I always made everything about me.  That I was this point of failure to be fixed and assimilated back into society’s needs.  I did things to test this theory.  I would shovel snow.  I would be the antithesis of what people thought about me.  I would be a role model.  I would try to be the perfect ally.  The trophy husband.  The exception to the rule.  That I would lead by example into the dark unknown.  And look behind me and see only my shadow.  I have never really stopped moving forward into that void.  And the way you mark the path lost in the great unknown is esoteric at best.  You do eventually come out the other side realizing you lost a lot of people along the way.  This includes my downstairs neighbor who apparently isn’t going to make the cut according to my landlord.  I can’t say I’m going to miss being manipulated for the sake of civility and the social good.  But that’s the fun part about Chicago.  The manipulation never gets old.  It just gets dirtier and dirtier.  And it piles up after time just like the snow.  Everybody just walks around it and pretends it’s not their problem.

Maybe people are just overwhelmed.  I know I feel that way sometimes.  But I’ve learned my strengths are more attractive than being weak and complaining about it all.  I’m an only child so I’m used to having to entertain myself through loneliness.  I’m also an adult with a unique experience handling the world as a whole.  Nobody ever really asks what you’ve been through.  Nobody really particularly cares over their own swarm of internal problems and responsibilities.  And this is fairly true of most Americans just trying to survive the gravity of their own lives and attachments.  I don’t have many of these and it makes me feel like a pariah.  People move in swarms and hives all the same.  It can be incredibly tribal in this city.  And yet if you move at the pace of the streets, it’s hard to go unnoticed even if you keep to yourself..  Where I came from and the connections that followed me here ages ago don’t really connect anymore to the person I am.  Being tossed away and ghosted sometimes can be a blessing.  The spilt milk and baggage is so far away that it doesn’t even make sense to me.  When it does, I chalk it up to the fact that I have bigger dreams than most people.  The only thing holding me back from them is when they are unceremoniously crushed through constant rejection.  I don’t really focus on failure that much anymore.  I’ve seen so much of it.  I focus on the things that work however small they are.  This goes for communication as well.  For a very long time I’ve become accustomed to when people stop communicating entirely.  So much so that I can recognize and psychoanalyze the reasons.  In the job market and professional situations, it can save you a lot of time and agony to know when something isn’t worth your time.  For myself, I’ve come to know intimately that the job market isn’t always about the work you do and your qualifications.  In Chicago it can be about nepotism, generational wealth, politics and leveraged investments.  How many lunches will you buy at the company store when we all return to work?  Whether you’ll be in the market for a mortgage anytime soon?  I’ve been at the center of that maelstrom transfixed for far too long to know better.  I also own my own business enough to know I can invoice and call it a day when all is said and done.  My investments matter more to my economic future than my personal connections in the professional world.  And this is a tough thing to figure out without any rules or guides other than the spiritual world.  I don’t purport to be a ghostbuster so I don’t know how any of that shit works.  I don’t gamble with the stock market or with my personal freedoms other than what I write on the internet.  I know the painful truth of who I connect to and who avoids me like the plague.  And I don’t waste time feeling sorry for myself when I know I have the best things happening for me behind the scenes.  The daily performance is Oscar worthy at this point.  I’m not overwhelmed by any of this in the slightest.  Other than the emotional load that drops from the sky when I think of the people I really care about.  However difficult that may be to understand and maintain.  I write here weekly just the same.  And the feeling I communicate something is always there.  Which is more than I could ever ask after being ignored so obviously for so long.

It feels sometimes like it’s all just invisible.  I felt more like that over the last year.  On the block, it’s hard to go ignored.  I swear every time I leave my house it’s a reality show in the making.  It used to be more about proving me wrong.  I used to be everybody’s punching bag.  Until you start to realize you are bullying the hero at the behest of the villains.  The guy who shovels your snow without asking for any recognition.  The guy who keeps his neighbor’s packages safe because he was tired of getting them stolen.  The guy who rebuilt his pension from the ground up with the skill of a cutthroat hedge fund manager who gets followed by the mob or whoever else has a problem with me surviving with no help from anyone at all.  The guy everybody uses as a blueprint to harass a larger demographic.  The guy that everyone winks at with the most vague intention of communicating who treats it like you showing me your entire hand at the poker table.  I treat every interaction as important.  When you are ignored for so long every little thing speaks volumes.  When people spend years saying things to you but haven’t ever asked you how you are.  Who haven’t reached out.  Who are too embarrassed or worried they’ll be incriminated or held accountable..  And then there’s the harsh realities of the systems in place that keep people in their lanes whether they like it or not.  There are days I wake up with a horrible feeling of dread.  And the biggest dread for me sometimes is wondering if I caused all this.  That I am out of step with everyone else.  And yet people can’t stop talking about me.  They can’t stop trying to duplicate my magic without ever respecting the source.  They try to create their own clubhouses, back rooms and hidden communication.  And they compare their motives to mine without ever looking me in the eye.  They are cowards.  And this is all they will ever strive to be.  You can bang your head against the wall trying to please these people.  Bow to their idea of freedom and what you deserve according to their small piece of the pie.  Or you can just prove them wrong and be the reminder.  That maybe it is best to be invisible in a swarm of vultures.  To be left for dead with a small chance to survive and live to tell the tale.  A tale most will continue to ignore or bury outright out of spite, jealousy or worse.  I knew about a year ago what kind of communication I was looking for.  I didn’t always know if I would be able to connect in that sort of way.  I just know when things are working.  I know that expectations and baggage can overwhelm people’s ability to listen.  Or even hinder their ability to reach out.  But I have never been more satisfied with the quality of people who have been in my life.  No matter how subtle the touch.  No matter how quiet the sentiment.  We are all looking for that kind of intimacy.  That kind of romantic nuance.  That somebody deep down cares and thinks about you enough to make space in their life to acknowledge we all breathe.  We all speak.  We all do not choose to hear and process what they mean.  All I know is that you mean the world to me always.  Wherever you are.  It’s what lives on in the heart and whispers what you know is true that counts most.  Not what the lips speak when they know they are being watched.  Love isn’t a performance.  Love is a way of living for others while loving yourself.  I wish you all the best kind of love this week.  One person in particular. <3 Tim

[drundertalescum]

Big White Mansions

SO I couldn’t sleep last night at like 4, but I also couldn’t sit upright to play stardew valley so here’s what Sans has been up to during the Fell!Pap in Undertale saga:

@themanicmagician

Underfell - Sans (3rd Person) POV - 2032 Words

Warnings: standard Underfell, swearing, angst, anger

Ya know, it really seemed like just a normal fight.

Sans couldn't remember what this one was even about. (It was about not feeding the stupid rock, of all things. That's what it was about). They all blurred together, even when they were first starting up, because they were brothers and they were both assholes and there was nothing about them where one was alike the other besides way too much pride and a need to always be in control. Those little virtues showed up in each brother in different ways, but they always fueled the arguments further than the last time.

From nitpicking about socks or strategy or something more serious, their egos always got the best of them until they were both boiling over with rage whose only target was the other, and neither was that far gone just yet to let that go too far.

(But the fear was there, that they were getting there. Most would put money on Papyrus being the one to strike the first blow. It made the most logical sense. He was bigger. Stronger. Angrier. But Sans disagreed with that, ashamed as he was too think so, and he was always the better gambler.)

So, the fights escalated, from once a month to once a week and now about every other day. And the fights escalated from petty passive aggression to aggressively aggressive aggression, because Papyrus's job stressed him out and Sans's life stressed him out. It used to be, they had a fight, they did a little song and dance. The silent treatment, staying in the same room but never making eye contact. They would both keep the lights on, started extra bright and intense, just to make it clear they were pretending the other didn't exist. It was childish and stupid, (because they were both childish and stupid and stubbornly so), some kind of line of sight game of “I'm not touching you” that had driven pop-pops crazy back when that ol’ geezer was still around.

But then things escalated to avoiding the same rooms for an hour, then a day if it was bad. Then the silent treatments got longer. Then they would purposefully retreat into their own separate rooms with a purposeful door slam, because the old rituals didn't scream “angry” enough for the dramatic little shit (and Sans did it too, to demonstrate to him how dumb it was. That's why.)

And it was a slow process from a fight every few months over dirty socks, each performing dumb little antics to say “I am still kinda mad,” but it ended up with starting fights every three days because they hadn't actually talked in months, and then they would keep not taking, because they were mad.

It was so fucking stupid. What a way to let the only relationship left that mattered to them fall apart. But even though Sans couldn't remember what he was mad about this time, he was still mad about it.

The latest development in the art of fraternal war was to storm out of the house in some kind of rabid fury. There was even a nuance to it. Day times, especially mornings or after shift, but before the street lights switched over? That was Papyrus's hour, and he would go wherever it was he went when he was mad. (Best guess was punching a wall somewhere, or punching a person somewhere). He slammed the door hard enough to rattle the frame each time. Lunch breaks and night time where Sans’s turn. That's when he got to storm off, teleporting to show off because Papyrus didn't know how to do it too and it was an extra special kinda “fuck you”, but Papyrus usually knew where he was going, the Door or the Bar, because it's not like he ever went anywhere else.

He'd leave for a few hours, come back, Papyrus would be either out at the mysterious wall-punching locale or more likely rage-cleaning the sink again and they would both not talk until the next day, if at all.

…

Was it weird that Sans had still thought they were doing okay? You know, as brothers?

Because, you know, he didn't exactly know how to do the whole emotional thing and Papyrus was a closed book nowadays and sure they fought and sure it was getting a little scary just how much his magic screamed threat when they were yelling and in the same room, but people fought. There was not a family in the Underground that didn't.

Besides, you know, the bunnies. They were tight-knit as they come and they seemed to fight pretty rarely, but judging from the brothers’ only literature on the subject, rabbits seemed to be weirdly friendly fuzzy fucks who would just walk up to people they didn't even know yet and start hugging them.  Bunnies didn't count. The drakes fought, right? Yeah, Snowy even ran off a few months ago because if it. Kid was probably dust by now. The dogs fought. Not really as much but… they did that dominance thing. Was that what this was? He didn't think so. Whatever, he and the boss weren't dogs. He didn't know a lot of other families. The bears? (Never fought) The mice? Too secretive to know. The rocks? San had no idea but decided got his own sake that they never went a day without the rock-equivalent of screaming.

That still wasn't a lot, though, was it? That so wasn't every family.

…Maybe he and Papyrus did fight too much.

(But it wasn't his fault. He wasn't the one who went from total sweetheart to total asshole. Sans always was the asshole; he never changed.)

So yeah, whatever, they fight, so what. They could fix it; they would fix it. Someday he would find a way to fix it. It was fine. They had plenty of time.

But that night after the latest fight when Sans got back from the bar, Papyrus was gone.

It wouldn't have been weird at all if it was earlier, but being out late was dangerous and Papyrus wasn't that dumb. He didn't sleep, but he didn't go out at ungodly hours. It just wasn't done.

The next day Papyrus was still gone.

And the next.

And it dawned on Sans that Papyrus didn't have to come back. He'd cleared the house of most valuables a long time ago. He had his savings. He had his job.

Papyrus didn't need to stay.

Papyrus didn't need him.

If Papyrus didn't want to come home he didn't have to, and he wouldn't.

Maybe this time it had gone too far. Maybe his brother wasn't coming back.

Sans did what he could: he went to work. He cleaned the kitchen. He slept a lot. He sprinkled the fucking rock. But most off all he just waited.

The asshole finally up and left, and Sans was dying inside to tell him how mad he was about it.

(He missed him. He was worried.)

He convinced himself pretty quickly that Papyrus would be fine. After all, he was strong and mean and it's not like he really needed Sans anymore.

He still waited, because he had no other plans, but he knew he moved on and he wanted to be happy for him. As usual, all he could work up was anger and resentment and apathy and sadness at the prick just moving on (and not even leaving a fucking note! Now who was the ‘rude’ one!?)

He was probably living it up in the Capital. Probably some big fancy promotion he hafn't bothered to mention, just like the last one Sans only heard about while slumped over a bar counter. God, he probably already doubled his LOVE without Sans to hold him back, and everyone knew the EXP in the city was higher. He was probably incapable of missing him now, of missing anyone, if he hadn't already been. (And he was probably so fucking proud of himself for finally shedding whatever nice or soft parts he still had left. When Sans pushed him all those years ago, he'd had no clue how far it would go. Papyrus never did anything half-assed, but Sans only did half-assed, so how was he supposed to have guessed his little brother would be such a massive prick when he grew up?)

Maybe the boss and Undyne had a great laugh together about how good it was that he finally ditched the weakling.

He probably had one of those big fancy New Home mansions, all to himself, no shitty, disgusting brother to muck it all up, everything perfectly arranged in those neat little boxes he loved so fucking much. Sans bet he painted the whole inside white just to show off the sparkle. Asshole. He was so much like dad and he barely even met him. Definitely didn't remember him. Pfft, he probably remembered dad more than pops or Sans at this rate.

He was finally happy wherever he was in his happy new life in his happy new job, and this backwater little town and this stupid worthless brother and these weak and miserable people could all rot while he laughed it up in New Home, dinner dates with the Captain—he wondered if her paramour ever visited too, and did she bring her fucking pets? Did they get that goo shit all over the carpets? He could imagine his brother's eyes bulging out. Or maybe they still make less of a mess of things than him?  He could picture his brother having dainty little tea parties with the King of All Monsters, with teeny little tea cups the behemoth of a monarch could barely hold while his brother stuck his pinkie out like some cultured little princess and not some state-sponsored thug who once beat a guy to death with a bone club.

 (And God that whole tea party mental image was a rich one. He wished it wasn't treason to tell that one at comedy night).

Sans kept the ‘old’ house clean, first as an apology, but then as an act of spite. If Papyrus ever visited, ever remembered he forgot some of his shit in the closet, he would come in and see how much Sans had his shit together, how much better the house was without him. See, boss, I DO get things done when I say I will! I get them done faster without you telling about it you prick! I'm so much better without you, too, asshole.

Maybe the house in Snowdin would be neater than Papyrus's stupid mansion. That thought gave him some delight. Papyrus would be so busy, and the place would be so pointlessly big (because that's exactly the sort of smug asshole Papyrus was, everything needed to be the biggest and the  fanciest. He was as bad as that fucking robot who was on every fucking channel) and he wouldn't have a useless errand boy to order around when he was too busy— at least not for free. He was probably or off his mind trying to keep the stupid place sparkling on to off whatever fancy Jon Asgore had him doing. God he was going to be so jealous when he came back to the old place. If he came back. It was Sans's best prank ever, the definition of punching up, too, so he could feel vindictive and self righteous about it (and pretend he didn't just trick himself into cleaning an empty house nobody was going to visit but himself.)

Papyrus was gone a week by the time Sans forgot that his concocted little fantasy about his brother's great new life was just that: a fantasy, when Captain Undyne burst down the door, screaming even louder than even his brother ever had.

“WHERE THE HELL IS HE!?”

And just like that, the hopes and dreams that Papyrus moved up and on without him, safe and happy, withered away like ash in his skull and died a quick death.

It was big-deal-official and everything: Papyrus was missing. No one had seen him since the fight.

Sans was still so angry; it just wasn't at his brother anymore.

#sans #my fics #fanfic #mine #underfell #save our fellboy #swearing #ufsans #ufpap #angst #some formatting is probably gone but im not fixing it

[holyqrow]

The Greatest Kingdom - Review and analysis

I said I was going to review the new episodes- so what better way to start then on episode one? Let’s get straight into it and talk about the highs and lows of Volume 7, episode 1, The Greatest Kingdom.

The first thing I noticed off the bat in this episode was the fact that in the very first shot, the entirety of JNR + Oscar is just not there. I feel that this is because RT is beginning to be aware that their group of main characters who do nothing to drive the plot forward has become extremely large, because let’s be real, unless you’re Team RWBY, Oscar, or Qrow, you literally have no reason to be on this stolen Atlas ship right now. You could argue that because JNR knows about Salem they have the right to be there, and you’d be right, they do, but they aren’t working well as being main characters. They’re taking up time in the show that could be dedicated to the main four or to Oscar- who is severely lacking in character development at the moment.

A positive about this scene though, would be that Blake is the first to say something when Weiss mentions being sent back to her father. It’s nice to see that RT has clearly made the two girls supportive of each other since they both have suffered similar abuses and Blake is now seemingly helping Weiss pull away from her abuse much like how she did with Adam.

The broadcasts bring up a lot of problems, on one hand, they make sense, but on the other they give me the feeling that later in this arc the team is going to have a moment where they ‘need to help all the kingdoms’ and I believe that Ironwood will get aggressive and remind them that Atlas is strong and he needs to only worry about Atlas. After seeing Ironwood, two kids that have known him for about a total of ten minutes a year ago make a comment about how tired he looks. Literally... what is behind this scene? What is it’s purpose? They have Qrow say the exact same thing when Pietro is around later in the episode. It wasn’t even necessary for him to absentmindedly talk about Ironwood after the kids made their comment about him being tired- it just felt out of place.

Speaking of Qrow, I’m personally painfully aware that the voice coming from him is not the Qrow voice I’ve grown used to after five volumes now. However, as someone who also enjoys voice acting I recognize the difficulty of voicing a character who has already been given an iconic voice that you can’t really stray from. Not to bring up the rat himself, but imagine if someone suddenly came up with a new voice for Sonic, it’d be out of place, everyone’s used to his rad ash Ketchum voice. It’d be the same for Qrow. We’re all so used to the gruff uncle that it wouldn’t make sense for him to start sounding like Aaravos from the Dragon Prince, his new voice actor HAD to work with what was previously created, and he’s definitely doing the best he can. However, that doesn’t mean I can’t mourn my baby boy’s old voice- amen.

Anyways, back to the broadcasts, Weiss is for some reason very thrown back by her sisters demeanor but quite frankly, there isn’t anything inherently ‘evil’ or ‘agressive’ about these messages. Weiss acts like her sister is acting unlike anything she’s ever seen before, when in fact Winter is talking with the exact same tone of voice she usually talks. I don’t understand why they all view these broadcasts that are clearly meant to calm people down as agressive messages, only to forget how they believed these broadcasts to be agressive later when they meet with Ironwood and Winter.

Hey, where’d the ship go? Literally where on a crowded city street and or in an alley did that giant ship land??? Just questioning the important things.

The group is never given any repercussions for the damages they caused while in Mantle? I mean trashing a drone and throwing a man in a dumpster seems like it would warrant some sort of telling off by Ironwood or Winter. Even a joking acknowledgment of it would’ve been better than the nothing. Like a ‘oh I gave your your licenses but the lord will taketh away if you trash anymore of my expensive to make tech!’

The shot of the Faunus miners in the back of the truck is really good, and I really really really want them to go into detail about the discrimination of Faunus in Mantle and Atlas. Like please give me a moment where Weiss realizes that the SDC is not all roses and flowers, give me a moment where Blake starts a Mantle branch of the white fang (cough led by Marrow cough)

When the group first walks in to Pietro’s... home... workshop? Team RWBY is just not there. Once again, probably due to the fact that there is far too many main characters all together in one place right now. For the love of god RT please split them up before they leave for Vacuo I’m begging. Send JNR back to Vale to get a read on how things are there or something, you can give more than one groups point of view please split them up. This also marks the beginning of it taking a ridiculously long time for Pietro to recognize team RWBY because plot convenience!!!

Maria then goes on to give our cast Pietro’s life story even though Pietro is actually sitting right there and they clearly don’t actually know each other that well due to the fact that it actually takes Maria giving him hints for him to even remember who she is.

Concerning the ‘days since last nonsense’ sign in the back, I like to think that it’s there because Penny doesn’t have a lot of human nuances and just kind of does whatever dumb shit she wants and Pietro has to constantly explain to her why she can’t just do the things she does.

Overall the Pietro’s workshop scene is pretty boring because they immediately go back outside anyways so why not just stay outside nerds no one cares about Maria’s exposition.

THIS FIGHT SCENE SLAPS!!!!! IT GOES REALLY HARD!!!! RWBY’s fight scenes have not been the best as of late but this one really showcased skills well and actually showed improvement in characters and I love it!!! The music backing it was also amazing and went with the fight very well.

Before I get into all the good things about this scene, I will first point out that this is the scene that starts the trend of Ren ignoring Nora for no forseeable reason. I’ll get into why I personally believe this is bad writing next time.

This fight scene shows us that Jaune has improved and boy am I proud of him!!! He’s really out here doing it and Pyrrha would be proud! I love that he’s more confident in his fighting ability now.

Qrow in this scene is so good. Like literally so fucking good and he only fights for like five seconds. In volumes after the Qrow vs Winter fight I feel that his fighting style has been slightly janky in the fact that RT wasn’t sure how to create another style for a sycthe wielder that wasn’t Ruby. I find that he’s always been a bit more of an elegant fighter, whereas Ruby is far more agressive and offensive. In the Tyrian fight we really see Qrow almost fighting back and forth with his own fighting style and Ruby’s fighting style (which is probably where that ridiculous ballerina move came from) and the same thing happens on the fight on top of the train, where he ends up looking absolutely ridiculous mirroring Ruby’s spinning move in order to slice the manticore in half. Here, however, we get to see Qrow being far less offensive than Ruby and significantly more calm about his fighting tactics- which is what he should’ve always been acting like, being that he’s a seasoned huntsman. Qrow lets the Grimm come to him instead of going for them, and when they do come to him he transitions flawlessly from broadsword to sycthe all the way to punching!!! Which is literally so cool, I’m glad that he’s also a hands on fighter, it’s nice to see a huntsman that doesn’t rely solely on their weapon and also I just like watching him punch things.

Now that I’m done gushing about Qrow, I will mention that it’s nice that Ruby’s own fighting style doesn’t directly mirror her teachers. And though this is probably more of what I had mentioned in Qrow’s paragraph than it is intentional, I’ve decided to call it intentional because it’d be a nice touch if it was. She’s also improved, much like Jaune we see her being more confident in her abilities as well as utilizing her semblance effectively and efficiently in a fight.

Anyways I cannot sing enough praise for that fight scene, it would definitely be in my top ten fight scenes list.

Ah... Penny. Now, what I’m going to say next will make people hate me, I swear on it. But I don’t think Penny should have come back. I love penny as much as the next person, I mean Penny 2.0 is on my star RWBY amity arena team, but her return doesn’t do much good to me. It reverses a lot of the effect of grim, dark times that season three had. By reviving Penny, you open the concept of everything that happened in that season being reversible, and this is only reinforced by Ruby’s lack luster reaction to Penny returning. Instead of crying, or even being confused, Ruby was surprised for five seconds and then went back to living life normally. I get it, she’s a robot, but hers and Ruby’s bond was supposed to be one of Ruby’s motivators to defeat Salem because Salem and been behind the death of her friends and the damage of her sister. When one of those motivations is just reversed it feels less real, with a proper reaction to Penny returning, this effect could have maybe not happened, but because of Ruby’s lacking response, viewers are now left thinking, ‘well... I mean that means phyrra can come back right?’ Or ‘well I mean I guess the fall of beacon wasn’t that big of a deal anyways’. Also, this is more of a pet peeve, but I don’t like her new outfit. Like what happened to her old outfit and why does she look like she’s a frilly little dress up doll now? I’ll probably make a separate post complaining about all my least favorite outfits and favorite outfits at a later junction.

Mmm the Ace Ops. As characters they’re interesting, though I’ll talk about that more when I get to episode two and three, but in this first episode it’s more their actions that annoy me. The fact that they just ignore the mention of one of the people they brought down being lisenced is really obnoxious to me. Like, atleast have Lucy Luciano or whatever his name is acknowledge Qrow’s comment instead of just ignoring it? Any response would’ve been fine, even a cheesy ‘anything you say will and can be used against you’. (I have later remembered that his name is Clover and I just keep forgetting his name it was just too funny to take the Lucky Luciano part out)

Ruby also struggles to speak throughout this entire interaction for some reason? She’s not gagged, so I’m not entirely sure why she stutters and struggles to talk the entire time, it’s slightly strange.

Last but not least- the thing that makes me the angriest about this episode! Maria just... leaves. No snarky comment, nothing. Don’t get me wrong, I’m not Maria’s #1 fan and I always felt there was a better way to teach Ruby about her silver eyes, but this has got to be the laziest removal of a character I’ve ever laid my eyes on. Let me show you an example of how this interaction could’ve gone:

Clover: Ma’am, you can return to your home, you’re safe now.

Maria: Yep. That’s what I’ll do.

We get to see Clover’s pretentious personality even more, and Maria gets to keep her only personality trait of being an annoying old bitch by completely ignoring the team and just going about her life. Which is fine! I don’t for the life of me understand why they did things this way, it’s so confusing to me. The kids don’t even mention Maria’s absence in later episodes, it’s almost like she wasn’t there in the first place. Which stands to show that she probably never should’ve been there. If they were going to do anything with her character, it quite frankly should’ve just been Qrow recounting a tale he heard of about the Grimm Reaper since he supposedly looked up to her so much.

And there we have it, with the doors closing and leaving our hero’s trapped in a transport for prisoners, we’ve completed our review of RWBY volume 7, episode 1, the Greatest Kingdom. Overall, a strong first episode with a great first episode fight, but not the best first episode we’ve ever seen. From this episode we’ve gathered that:

•It’s very possible Ironwood will betray the team at some point

•There will likely be a moment with either Weiss or Blake (or both) where they confront abuse with themselves or Faunus (or, once again, both)

Thank you for reading!

#rwby #long post #rwby volume seven #rwby review #ruby rose #weiss schnee #blake belladonna #yang xiao long #qrow branwen #jaune arc #nora valkyrie

[painted-starlight]

Why does Mother Gothel Want to Stay Young?

Warning: Super Long Post and some swearing

An in depth analysis why Mother Gothel’s motivation to stay young doesn’t make any sense.

No seriously why does Mother Gothel want to stay young forever? 

Vanity as a flaw is an old  stereotype to pit young women against older women. But this sole motivation doesn’t really hold up when we compare her to other Disney Villains. The reason I say this is because there is a certain level of complexity that villains in Disney hold. Little things like character quirks, their occupation, their background, their ethnicity can give the audience subtle clues about why they at the way they do. 

For example, villains with a deep and shallow level of complexity would have to fulfill certain qualifications (note: I got a lot of helpful information on creating villains from Letterpile.com’s “Three Steps to Creating a Complex Villain”. I suggest you take a look, since I got a lot of my information on how Disney Villains are formed from this piece.): 

1) What does the audience know about them from what is shown? Their environment, their disposition, interactions with the hero, etc. Things we can see, and are shown. 

2) What is implied by the story about who they were before the events of the movie? Basically what’s not shown but what can be reasonably assumed by the audience. (Off screen mentions don’t count because film is a visual medium and what a villain does must be shown to audience in order to establish them as a threat.) 

3) Are their motivations understandable? Not an excuse mind you, and sometimes they aren’t relate-able (which is fine depending on their level of complexity. Not all villains have to have full backstories). But do their struggles parallel the hero in some way?  

An effective Disney villain doesn’t always follow these rules or answer these questions since so many are different. But here are a few: 

Dr. Facilier from the “Princess and the Frog”

Complex/Sympathetic Human Villain

We don’t know that much about Dr. Facilier, but what the audience is shown let’s fill in the clues. He is most likely had struggles financially, and is a victim of the racist system of Jim Crow. He had a mother, so there is a familial aspect to his life. 

Dr. Facilier is an understandable villain, because he has been denied the opportunity to prosper while the white upper class that practiced slavery lives in mansions. This is one of the most sympathetic villains Disney has created, and his struggles parallel Tiana’s since they both are black people living in a racist system.

That doesn’t mean he isn’t a villain, but the small moment of sheer hopelessness he has in the beginning (during “Down in New Orleans” ) while watching the descendant of slave owner ride around in a car make him a complex villain.  

Scar from the “Lion King”

Complex/Unsympathetic Non-Human Villain

Scar is a complex villain in the Lion King, but he’s not sympathetic. He is resentful of his position as the beta-male. He is smarmy, manipulative, and petulant. What we are shown is the level of his hatred of Mufasa leads him to murder his brother. It is Shakespearean, and his hostile takeover of the Pride Lands is driven by his selfishness. The failure of his reign is due to a lack of foresight and planning. Once he got what he wanted, he was a pretty shitty king. 

Scar is an effective villain because of his environment, his character quirks, and sarcasm make him memorable. He is antisocial and is shown lounging around alone while the celebration of his nephews birth takes place. His character animation is distinctive, and shows the audience his personality. 

There are supplementary books that shine a light on his past, but since most people have seen the first film we can’t really count that.  

Maleficent  

Simple/Effective Humanoid Villain

Maleficent is not complex. She doesn’t need to be because her character’s actions are consistent with the rules of the world she lives in. She wasn’t invited to a party so she cursed the host’s baby. Because she is a faerie, she doesn’t abide by certain human etiquette (or at least she doesn’t use etiquette when dealing with people who don’t take the time to use it for her). 

The rules are different. She’s not like Scar from the Lion King who is aware of certain rules and technically a part of the social structure. The Lion pride has a hierarchy of their own and a society with different nuances. While he is a social climber, Maleficent is a wild card that can come in at any moment and tear up the place. 

If she were human and had these powers, the audience would probably wonder what her deal is, but since she acts more like a force of nature and a Western audience is used to tales of gods and supernatural creatures with strange morals, it makes sense. Considering how the other three faeries are more or less clueless about how real humans act, this idea is consistent and not necessarily speculative to assume that that is just how faeries act. 

So where does Mother Gothel fit into this? 

She’s not complex, but she’s a human character that requires a reason for her to act the way she does. Her just being controlling, manipulative and occaisionally falsely charming has nothing to do with who she is because those are things that any villain can do. Who is Mother Gothel? Why does she do the things she do? 

Does she fear death? 

Not really. 

The film tries to tie in beauty with life and old age with imminent death in a really strange way. Just because you’re old doesn’t mean that as soon as you turn sixty that death is coming for you. Just because you’re young doesn’t mean that it’s going to be your best years. 

How does her being young translate into a fear of death exactly? 

It doesn’t make any sense from we know (very very little) of Gothel’s backstory. No subtle hints of backstory, no references to past marriages, partners, children, or even something she might have done that could raise an eyebrow. What does she even DO while Rapunzel is in the tower? 

We have no idea where she goes, what she does, why she needs to be young to do it, etc. 

During Mother Knows Best, she references some things like the plague, but the rest is just shit she made up and few disappearing acts. How does this factor into her character exactly? Was she a magician or a performer at some point? 

The reason why I ask is because if it’s true, what does that have to do with her staying young forever or a fear of death? It could be that she was performer and her acts rely on her being immortal or looking a certain way, but that makes no sense because everyone and their grandma apparently knows about a magic flower that makes people stay young forever and they made a big deal out of it. And she seems reaaaaly secretive. Like she doesn’t want anyone to know who she is. 

But what does she do when Rapunzel is in the tower??? 

Apparently she just walks around doing nothing. Like, what’s the point of her being young at all? If she were hiding from the palace guards that’s fine but why was she so obsessed with being young BEFORE the king and queen took the flower?

If she were really afraid of dying she would be obsessed with not getting sick, or being injured.She can’t be afraid of dying or getting seriously hurt since she scales a friggin tower every three days from a fall that could KILL her. 

The only thing that she seems to love is beauty and youth. But why? There’s no actual reason given. There’s no hint of sibling rivalry, or showing her being self conscious in front of other women because there are barely any other women in this movie. 

The only woman/girl she even talks to is Rapunzel. And that’s not a good frame of reference because she actively manipulates her and has complete and total control over her/her environment. She has full control and it’s all an act. 

When she’s technically “out of control” of Rapunzel, she still doesn’t seem to talk from experience. She is literally a caricature at points, mostly there to oppose Rapunzel and be the “Older Woman” who jealous of Rapunzel’s beauty. 

She isn’t paralleled with Rapunzel properly either. Usually a villain should be more than just a physical opposite to the hero. Her character arc should want the same thing as Rapunzel, and she does for a small part. They both want control of Rapunzel and her choices. 

But other than that, it kind of falls flat. Flynn/Eugene drives Rapunzel’s story and he pretty much becomes the center of her universe other than the floating lanterns. Mother Gothel internally has almost nothing for the audience to hold onto. She has no understandable motivations (no matter how twisted a villains motivation is, the audience needs to know what IT IS), and she parallel’s Rapunzel in the most basic, shallow way. Physically. And that’s not enough for a human character.

So what T*ngled is trying to say is this is guess: 

Mother Gothel wants to stay young because all women want to be youthful for no real reason. Just cause! When your young you stay young forever and never get old or injured. If you’re an older woman, you aren’t pretty anymore and you might as well be dust in the wind. (Unless of course you’re a white disney princess or her youthful looking mother lol) 

???????

Mother Gothel from T*angled

Mother Gothel is Simple/Unrelatable in the Disney Villain category. She’s basically on par with Clayton from Tarzan. Very one note, and there for opposition, a caricature. 

Simple in terms of characterization and the barrier between her as a villain and the audience. 

Unrelatable because of the missing elements of shown or implied backstory. Not enough information other than surface traits given to the audience. 

#long post #disney #tangled crit #animation #anti tangled

[ingravinoveritas]

Just need to say this: Being a fan of someone does not mean worshiping them blindly, but neither does it mean dragging and canceling them because they do not agree with your exact worldview. Being a fan means being honest about who someone is...including the parts you might not always like. It means knowing that they are as likely to make mistakes and hold imperfect views as anyone else, but that does not make them incapable of changing and evolving. And it means seeing the person as a whole, flawed human being, not just as the version of themselves that you find acceptable.

#michael sheen #i swear to God people have no sense of nuance anymore #also the hypocrisy i have been seeing in the last day is making me livid #this is directed at people dragging Michael for dating AL #who were calling them 'Couple goals' two days ago #mainly because i suspect these are the same people who have sent me hate Anons for my posts #and this tells me that these people were never okay with Michael/AL's relationship in the first place #frustration #i can't even with this nonsense #you don't have to agree with anything i say #but i have always been honest about what i think #fandom woes #thoughts #discourse

[whysoseven]

What Scares a God

A short tidbit that I wrote back in January and promised to post ages ago.  Based on the human Bill AU made by @doodledrawsthings (Here!) and @videogamelover99 (Here!), which is based on Flat Dreams by @pengychan 

Summary: Being less immortal hasn’t made Bill any less of a dick. Rating: T for some language I guess? Fandom: Gravity Falls

Ford hated him.

It didn’t matter what form Bill took.  Triangle, human, he would always be the same monster on the inside.  Something that, despite the summer’s previous events, his family didn’t seem to understand.

He knew Dipper was leery of the man, as he should be. Stan and Mable, however, had begun to accept the demon’s presence and let him into their lives.  It made Ford sick to his stomach, watching him walk around the house in his Mable made sweater as if he belonged there.  When Ford had caught him sleeping with the children in front of the television he damn near had a heart attack.  He would be lying if he said he hadn’t considered shooting him before Stan had walked in and stopped him.

Because of that monster it was nights like these that Ford couldn’t sleep.  Nights that were too much like the ones before he was pulled into the portal, back when self-induced insomnia was the only thing protecting his mind from the false muse.  Being home, being in his bed, it was too similar for him to relax.  The insomnia was an automatic reaction, one what was now unwanted but unavoidable, and because of it Ford was left staring at his bedroom ceiling with only his thoughts to pass the time.

That was until he heard glass shattering in the kitchen.

Ford was out of bed in an instant.  With gun in hand and footfalls silent, Ford stepped out of his room and listened for the source of the disturbance.  For a moment he heard nothing, and then quiet swearing broke the silence.  Ford crept towards the kitchen, grip on his gun tightening.  Though he recognized the voice it wasn’t exactly reassuring.  If anything, it was very much the opposite. The idea of that beast roaming the house while everyone else was asleep was not a comforting one, especially when he considered how many sharp, dangerous objects were readily available in the kitchen.  If Bill was capable of killing his own family, as Ford long suspected he had, then a Pines family massacre was not out of the question.

As Ford approached the doorway he glanced around the frame.  Though the lights were off, the moonlight coming in through the kitchen window illuminated the room just enough for him to see a disgruntled Bill Cipher sweeping up a pile of glass as he grumbled to himself.  Ford couldn’t help but feel relief when he noticed Bill hadn’t gone for the knives.

Yet.

“Circles, Sixer, will you knock it off?”  Bill paused his sweeping to look up at his hiding spot behind the door frame, his brow furrowed. “I swear I can hear thinking.”  Panic swept through Ford before he added, “And no, I can’t read your mind, you’re just painfully obvious.  Embarrassing, really.  Kind of sad.”

Ford hesitated before he stepped out from behind the entry way.  His pistol was lowered but he kept his finger hovering over the trigger.  “You’re up late.”

“Early,” Bill corrected.  “At least, going by your backwards human concept of time measurement.  Most societies wait until, you know, daylight before they call it morning.”

Ford shot him a soft glare.  “I don’t recall asking you.”

Bill fell silent, casting his gaze towards the ground and continuing his sweeping. Ford watched, intent on not letting him out of his sight until he was satisfied Bill would be in bed until morning.

“You know, I don’t need a supervisor,” Bill said as he swept the glass into the dustpan and carried it to the trash.  He glanced over at Ford as he dumped it in.  “Believe it or not I can actually get a glass of water on my own.”

“It’s not the water I’m worried about,” Ford said, his tone sharp.

“Wha— “

“I’m not going to let you hurt them, Cipher.”  The statement was definitive, leaving no room for question.  Ford watched as Bill’s eyes were immediately drawn to the gun, realization flooding his features.  There was a moment of silence before he broke out into that high pitched, unhinged laugh that sent shivers up Ford’s spine.

Ford narrowed his eyes into a hard glare, his free hand tightening into a fist.  “What’s so funny?”

Bill cackled a bit longer before straightening, shaking his head.  “For such a braniac you sure are dense, you know that?”

“What are you talking about?”

“I’m talking about your flawed logic, Sixer,” Bill said, amusement quickly replaced with a grim expression.  “Let’s say I hurt them.  Let’s say I kill them.  Then what?”

Ford hesitated, taken aback by the question. “Well, I’d imagine you’d carry out whatever plan you have to escape your body.”

“Escape?”  Bill looked at his as if he’d grown a second head.  “There is no escape.  This arrangement, this meat sack, it’s a last resort.  The only thing I have left.  There’s no getting out of it, I’m stuck with it until it dies.”

Ford furrowed his brow in confusion.  That couldn’t be right.  Bill always had an ulterior motive in mind.  “So, then, what?  You kill us and fulfill some grand master plan to take over the world?”

Bill surprised him with a bitter laugh, his expression one of… if Ford didn’t know any better he’d say it was regret.  “Take over the world?  I don’t know if you noticed but I can’t even go out to eat without drawing attention to myself.”  He turned to get a new glass out of the cabinet.  “Just because I watched humanity for thousands of years doesn’t mean I paid attention to the nuances, I don’t know how to navigate your world.  I think we both know how long I’d last if I left.”

“So, what are you saying?” Ford asked.  “That I’m supposed to believe you’re safe?  That’s I’m supposed to just trust you?”

“I’m saying fear is one hell of a leash, Sixer,” Bill growled.

“You’re practically a god!  What could you possibly be afraid of?” Ford retorted, not bothering to hide his irritation. “Sanity?  People standing in an orderly line?  Not being a dick for once in your life?”

“Death!” Bill snapped, slamming the glass down onto the counter.  The anger was quick to fade and it left Bill hunched over the counter, shoulders slumped in defeat and voice uncharacteristically quiet. “Death scares a god, Sixer.”

Ford looked at him in disbelief.  “Why would that matter?” He asked.  “It’s not like you’ll die when that body does—“ Bill shot him a look that made the word catch in his throat.  Realization hit Ford when it occurred to him that it was possible that Bill was, in fact, no longer immortal.  “Oh.”

Bill stayed still a moment longer before rubbing his face with a heavy sigh.  “You know what?  I’m not thirsty anymore.”  He let go of the glass, turning to walk out of the kitchen.  “I’m going back to bed.”

Ford just stared at the glass as Bill walked away, listening to the soft sound of his footsteps on the wooden floorboards.  Suddenly, everything made sense.  Bill Cipher was dying, and that terrified him.

Ford stood there for a moment longer before clicking the gun into safety and sliding it back into his holster.  He guessed he no longer had to worry about Bill hurting his family.  After all of that he just didn’t seem like much of a threat anymore.

#gravity falls #bill cipher #human au #flat dreams #Bill is a dick #Ford demonizes getting a glass of water #but really can you blame him #fanfiction #whysoseven

[sorrelchestnut]

Do you have any fic recs? I really like the stuff you write!

Aw, thanks, anon!  The short answer to that question is my bookmarks page on AO3, because if I read something and like it, I bookmark it.  As a result, it’s… extensive.  However, you can always filter for fandom/pairing/what have you, if you’re looking for any fandom in particular.

It does mean that I don’t really keep curated recs lists anymore, though, so instead I can offer two things: major fandom favorites that I’ve reread recently for at least the third time, and a handful of my favorites for fandoms I’m actually in.

Don’t look for any particular rhyme or reason here.

First:

What We Pretend We Can’t See, by @gyzym.  (Harry Potter: Harry/Draco.)  I actually just read this again this afternoon.  I saw a Harry/Draco mention go by on my dash and thought, “Shit, I need to read that again” so I did.  It’s become my defining fic for that pairing, with my ideal dynamic, a.k.a., “compatible issues.”

(This is my ideal dynamic for pretty much every pairing, honestly.  I usually look for people to have some kind of inexpressable sameness under the skin, but with strengths and weaknesses that complement each other.  I want the whole to be greater than the sum of the parts.)

Where All the Ladders Start, by @emungere.  (Hannibal: Hannibal/Will.)  I think Blackbird was my first emungere fic and still remains my favorite, but it’s Ladders I keep coming back to, I think because of the scope of it, the expanse of their relationship and what happens after.  In general I love pretty much all of their work, however.  Precise, but dreamlike.  By which I mean not just the abstract watercolor brushstroke style that people usually refer to when they mean dreamlike, but also the raw emotion that only a dreaming mind can really inflict.

The Silver Age, by @copperbadge.  (MCU: Tony/Bucky.)  I think I originally meant to rec Ironsides, which I have also re-read recently and remains a high point of rule 63 fic, of which I am a deep and studied connoisseur, but it’s Silver Age that I keep coming back to.  There’s something just so… kind about it.  It’s not a recovery fic, precisely—those never quite hit the right chords for me, I’m not enough into h/c to enjoy them—but it has the comforting trappings of recovery fic that make me always want to like them.  It’s got the brisk and wryly funny bones of a story that, ultimately, is about how much an outstretched hand at the right moment can really mean, when it’s desperately needed.  And not just once, but over and over, multiples times of the course of several stories.  It’s gentle and clever and kind of my go-to curl up on the couch and read it for the fifteenth time.

And now for fandoms I’m actually in:

The Ice Has Melted Me Back to Life, by @valorious.  (FO4: F!Sole/MacCready) a.k.a the fic that got me into this pairing, and therefore, into this fandom.  I must have read it a thousand freaking times, I swear.

the too-huge world vaulting us, by @mustinvestigate.  (FO4: F!Sole/MacCready)  Probably one of my favorites for this pairing.  Very different dynamic than I write, but god, it’s so well-done.  I always loved all of the tiny imperfections to them, the incredibly human ways they sometimes talk at cross-purposes and screw each other up with the best of intentions.  The characters in this feel like actual people.

Obviously Chantilly Lace by @khirsahle.  (FO4: F!Sole/MacCready.)  This needs no explanation, except maybe to say that reading it always makes me grin like a fiend.

One, Two, Three, by @notebookalpha.  (FO4: F!Sole/Deacon)  This was the Deacon fic I read when I first decided to dip my toe into that corner of the fandom; I was already working on one fic at the time and was trying hard not to get invested in another pairing and thanks to this fic I complete lost that battle.  Maybe if there’d been a hundred more like it I wouldn’t have had to write some of my own, but unfortunately there was just enough to whet the appetite without satisfying it.

Freedom Trail and Policy of Truth by @youreusingcoconuts.  (FO4: M!Sole/Deacon.)  Freedom Trail is probably my Ultimate Deacon Fic, it is the story to which all others are measured and usually found wanting.  It showed me just what you could do with dialogue.  Policy of Truth is a lot more sharp-edged, and if you’re looking for emotional satisfaction I suggest reading that first unless you want to stare angrily at the ceiling all night like I did, but it’s also really fucking good.  Because you don’t have to be a good person to be good at what you do; sometimes, being a good person can kind of get in the way.  It’s a less romantic view of a compulsive liar and lifetime spy, but I love it.  I sometimes want to brain the main character with a fucking brick, but that’s part of the charm.

Three Kisses and One They Could Understand (Hurt His Hands) by cereslupin.  (DA:I, Cullen/Dorian and then Cullen/F!Inquisitor.)  The first is a short, sweet story that manages to sketch out a beautiful piece of characterization in a very small space of time, for a pairing I didn’t realize I was into until I read this.  The second is one of my favorite Cullen/Inquisitor fics because it’s… hmm.  All this time and I still can’t think of a good way to describe it, but I think because it isn’t a recovery fic, precisely; it’s a snapshot of people in recovery, together.  It feels like two people who are better because they have each other, even if sometimes things like sex are huge and scary, it’s about taking your partner’s hand and going into it together.  Does that make sense?

The Heart of the Labyrinth by Barkour.  (DA:I: Iron Bull/Dorian.)  All of Barkour’s fic for this pairing is great, but this is the first I read and still my favorite.  I had to read it at least three times just to make sure I caught all of the details and nuance—there’s a lot going on under the surface—but this is another case of a writer who showed me what language could really do.  Both characters are just so fully realized and clever and sharp-edged and prickly and tender and kind in all the wrong moments.

Rebel Heart by @dinoswrites.  (DA:I Solas/F!Lavellan.)  The long, plotty, post-game novel that gives you all the action, adventure, and romance you could possibly desire for these two.  I’ve read a fair bit of solavellan of various stripes and loved a whole bunch of it, but honestly this is always the one I come back to the most.

Greatly Approved by @damalur.  (DA:I, Varric/F!Hawke.)  Probably the truest bioware pairing of my heart, and cruelly denied by canon but you know what?  There’s this fic instead.  And that’s almost better, because that’s my Hawke.  That’s the Hawke I always think of when I think of Hawke, which is to say completely mental, compulsively sarcastic, incapable of taking anything seriously, terrified of anything that looks like commitment, and someone who feels things so deeply and profoundly she could fucking choke on them.  It’s the kind of story that has you laughing along, fizzy and warm with it, until the anvil drops in the best way.  And Cassandra!  Fuck, Cassandra is so good in this, I could write a whole essay about her relationship with Hawke alone and not run out of things to say.

Honorable mention goes to Crooked Little by the same author, same pairing.  God but the last few scenes of that always get me, even when I know how it ends!  And double-honorable mention to Crucible (f!Shepard/Vakarian), also by the same author, as being my One True Fic for my truest Mass Effect OTP.  All other stories must compare to it, and all others fall short, always.

#i think this was sufficiently obnoxiously long #don't you? #fic recs #multifandom #Anonymous

[necro-romantic]

sooo i wrote a fan ep of it’s always sunny where the gang gets trapped in dee’s apartment building with a killer but they keep taking themselves out by being dumb bitches before the killer can even find them it’s here if u want to read it 

Title: The Gang Gets Murdered

Characters: Charlie, Dee, Mac, Dennis, Frank

Warnings: Violence, swearing

INT. LATE EVENING, DEE’S APARTMENT

The gang is sitting on various pieces of furniture, all pulled into a semi-circle around the TV. The floor is covered in empty food containers, ripped popcorn bags, and crushed cans of beer. The end credits of “American Psycho” are playing on the TV screen, which dimly lights the dark living room in flickering bursts of illumination.

DENNIS

I’m just saying, I think it’s a little weird that the killer never gets away with it on TV. It’s an art- there’s so much, finesse, skill- serial killers are brilliant, they’re gifted. And they never get away with it- look, I’m not defending murder, I’m not, it’s just weird is all I’m saying. Inaccurate. Frankly, I’d be offended, if I was a serial killer.

CHARLIE

But you’re not, right, so- (he shrugs) it’s like- it

doesn’t really matter.

DENNIS

(Exasperated, one hand on his face, gesturing with the other)

No, I know it doesn’t matter I’m just saying-

MAC scoots across the floor and pops open the DVD player, holding the disc in his hand and glancing back at DENNIS.

MAC

It’s my turn to pick the movie next, right?

DENNIS

(Motioning towards the now black screen)

C’mon man, the credits weren’t even over, what, you didn’t like my pick?

MAC

Little creepy man, too many prostitutes anyways. Boobs all up in- I mean- I like boobs I’m just saying, fake ones are, they’re, ya know-

DENNIS

Creepy? “American Psycho” is a classic, Mac. A classic.

MAC

(Shrugging)

I never saw it before. Can’t be that much of a classic.

DENNIS

That’s because you have shit taste, dude. Shit taste.

DEE

Mm, I’m with Mac on this one. A little creepy. Also I’m pretty sure you got off during that scene with the axe, and I’m just glad I was on the other side of the couch.

DENNIS

Alright, well, you’re a stupid bitch. What about you Frank. You’re with me, right? It’s a classic.

FRANK

Yeah- yeah, sure, I wanna go back to the tits though, (he turns to look at MAC) because a fake tit is still a good tit. I’ll stand by that, feel the same in your hand. Feel real enough to me.

DENNIS

(Groaning)

I don’t know why I bother to share my movies with you when none of you ever never appreciate them, the nuances in dialogue, the filming, the development of- uncultured. You’re all uncultured. Absolutely-

He’s interrupted by a shrill scream from above them.

DENNIS

(Angrily banging on the ceiling with his palm)

Hey! Excuse me! I am talking!

There’s a loud crash and the ceiling crumbles, spilling drywall across the carpet, and dumping a body- along with a shattered chandelier- into the center of the living room.

ALL

Shit.

MAIN TITLES

Title: “It’s Always Sunny In Philadelphia”

Title: “Episode ?????”

Title: “The Gang Gets Murdered”

FADE IN: INT. STILL DEE’S APARTMENT, MOMENTS LATER

DEE

Is she-

DENNIS

(Interrupting sarcastically and rolling his eyes)

No, she’s just asleep Dee, God, use your head for once you dumb bitch.

DEE

Oh, I’m sorry. This is just a little traumatic, you know.

DENNIS

You’re such a bitch. Like you’ve never seen a dead body before.

DEE

Are you saying you have?

DENNIS

C’mon, we gotta get out of here, the killer’s probably still nearby. I don’t want him catching me near the body.

DEE

Shouldn’t we call the police?

DENNIS

Yeah, Dee, let’s do that. Let’s just get all up in this mess, let’s just, involve ourselves. God, you’re such an amatuer. I’m not getting messed up in another man’s business. (He puts his hands up) I’m out of here. He takes care of the body, I take care of my own shit.

DEE

I live here. My carpet is covered in blood.

DENNIS

You think that asshole’s leaving any evidence here? We’re out for the night, we come back to a scrubbed carpet, fixed ceiling, no sign of body fluids. Free cleaning, Dee. Free cleaning. You think the cops are paying for this damage? Your landlord? You want to pay for a new ceiling, huh?

CHARLIE

I’m with Dennis, I wanna get outta here.

DEE

Fine, fine, we’ll go. Just let me get my purse.

FRANK pulls the door open and stands there stiffly, eyes wide.

CHARLIE

Hey, get outta the way man, what’re you-

FRANK leans in close to CHARLIE’S ear.

FRANK

Charlie.

CHARLIE

Dude- your breath smells like-

FRANK

Charlie he’s out there.

CHARLIE

What the fuck are you-

FRANK

He’s out there.

CHARLIE

Who? The mailman, the fucking pizza guy, I don’t-

FRANK

The killer, Charlie. The killer.

CHARLIE

Aw, shit. Close the door, maybe he won’t come in.

DENNIS

(Aggravated, motioning towards the dead woman lying on the floor)

The body’s in here Charlie, of course he’s coming in here!

CHARLIE

Oh yeah.

DENNIS

How do you know he’s the killer anyways, Frank?

FRANK

Sketchy looking dude.

DENNIS

(Peeking around the corner)

Oh my god he’s black. Are you saying he looks sketchy because he’s black? You can’t say that, Frank.

FRANK

Nah- nah- he’s not sketchy because he’s black, he’s just sketchy and black.

DENNIS

Well, we have no solid evidence it’s him, so I say we just go. We start walking, calm- calm. Bitch was poisoned anyways. Killer could be anywhere in the building.

DEE

Poisoned? How do you know that?

DENNIS

Oh, come on, no sign of physical injury besides the head wound from the chandelier that broke the floor- terrible floors by the way, Dee, I’d complain about that- the cord was in her hand, so she most likely did that herself, accidentally pulled it down on top of her in a panic- bright red blood, and she reeked of almonds. Cyanide.

DEE

Alright, so, sketchy black guy in the hall, sketchy white guy in the room with us- I’m taking my risks with hall guy.

She pushes past the others and out into the hall.

CHARLIE

Yeah, hall guy.

DENNIS

(Only one left in the room, shouting out into the hallway, motioning dramatically)

C’mon guys, plenty of people know- it’s not that weird to- (He lets out a disgruntled noise and let his arms drop back to his side.) Wait for me!

INT. THE HALL. IT’S DIMLY LIT, AND APPEARS ALMOST MENACING

They walk stiffly down the hallway and huddle together in the elevator.

INT. THE ELEVATOR

CHARLIE

Man, why do ya think he killed her?

MAC

(Shrugging)

She was probably being a bitch. I bet she deserved it.

DEE

She was kind of annoying. She tried to talk to me while we were doing laundry, I mean, who does that?

CHARLIE

Yeah, and she always talks real loud in her sleep when I come over, that’s annoying.

DENNIS

Charlie, you do know that’s not what- she’s having sex. She’s having sex Charlie.

CHARLIE

Oh. Yeah that makes a lot more sense I guess.

DEE

Y’know, I wanna talk about the fact that during that awful laundry conversation, she told me her boyfriend’s name was John, but, (she turns to DENNIS) I heard her screaming your name an awful lot.

DENNIS

(Shrugging)

She was hot. Insecure. Her boyfriend really did a number on her self-esteem, made it incredibly easy for me to get whatever I wanted from her. Not an ounce of self respect. Almost too easy, really. Mmm, but she sure knew how to-

DEE

(Visibly disgusted)

Alright- shutting that conversation down. Alright, so she was an annoying, bitchy slut.

CHARLIE

(Looking at the buttons on the elevator pad)

Hey, any of you guys noticed that we aren’t moving down anymore?

MAC

Yeah, I was thinking that. It’s been on “3” for a while now.

FRANK

Aw shit, we pissed off her ghost.

DENNIS

Ghosts aren’t real, Frank.

CHARLIE

Nah, they definitely are, there’s one at our apartment, we call him “Soft Tom”, he knocks shit over, and sometimes you feel him brush against you and he’s real soft and all.

DENNIS

That’s a cat, Charlie. Not a ghost, a cat.

CHARLIE

(Defensively)

Could be a ghost cat.

DENNIS

(Sighing)

Alright, well, whatever the reason, we’re stuck in this elevator. So let’s just remain calm and-

FRANK

C’mon Charlie- let’s climb out through the shaft.

CHARLIE

I don’t know Frank that seems a little-

FRANK

It’ll be just like all your vents Charlie, c’mon.

CHARLIE

(Apprehensive)

Alright, yeah, I guess.

FRANK

Get on my shoulders, yep- right, now, pull me up-

CHARLIE

Dude, you weigh like, a thousand pounds, I can’t-

FRANK

Mac- Mac- hoist me up.

MAC

Shit man, you really are heavy-

FRANK

Alright, alright, I’m up, here Mac, give me your hand and I’ll pull you up.

DENNIS

(Annoyed)

Are you guys idiots? You think you’re gonna make it up the shaft? The elevator’s gonna get fixed, and-

CHARLIE (O.S)

How long’s the shaft?

FRANK (O.S)

Don’t know- shouldn’t have to go too far along the shaft though, just to the next floor.

MAC (O.S)

Can you guys stop saying shaft?

DENNIS

(Exasperated)

And, they’re gone.

DEE

Dumbasses.

DENNIS

I know! God- there’s a corpse in this building and they’re crawling around in the elevator shaft- and they thought hall guy was shady. Amateurs. Goddamn amateurs.

DEE

Mm, see, but the more you say “amateurs”, the shadier you sound.

DENNIS

(Ignoring her)

Oh- and we’re moving again. If those assholes had waited just thirty more seconds they wouldn’t have had to crawl up to the fourth floor.

INT. FIRST FLOOR, RIGHT OUTSIDE THE ELEVATOR

DEE

(Stepping out of the elevator)

Should we wait for them?

DENNIS

Nah- let’s just go.

There’s a cacophony of noise and MAC comes rushing down the stairs, covered in dust and oil.

MAC

Guys- guys! You’ll never guess what we found in the elevator shaft!

FRANK shows up, panting, hunched over.

FRANK

Another dead body!

DENNIS

(Dismissively)

That’s impossible. It never would have fit in-

CHARLIE cuts in, and DENNIS’ jaw visibly tightens.

CHARLIE

Nah- man, it was pretty squished, like- real flat. Probably been there a day or two.

DEE

Great, so we’re dealing with a serial killer.

DENNIS

Well- not technically. Three murders makes a serial killer. Not two, and besides- we don’t even know if it was the same killer.

FRANK

I’m not taking any chances. (He pushes past everyone and walks towards the door.) Can’t run fast as I used to, getting outta this bitch before things get any worse

He tugs on the handles. Then pushes. Nothing happens.

FRANK, (CONT’D)

Alright. Charlie- c’mon, we’re hiding in the broom closet.

Mac grabs the handles and tugs.

MAC

Man- they’re really locked. Bet I could break the glass though.

DENNIS

Don’t-

MAC backs up and runs full force forward, slamming himself against the door. He staggers backwards, slightly stunned, wincing and rubbing his sore shoulder.

MAC

Must be, some kinda real, police grade glass. Otherwise I’d be able to break it.

DENNIS

(Sighs and gently places a hand on MAC’S shoulder)

Alright, well, it looks like we’re stuck here. We stay together, we wait it out. Got it? Someone’s bound to call the police, and we’ll be in the clear.

CHARLIE

(Raises his hand)

Why can’t we call the police again?

DENNIS

(Points at him and raises his brows)

Good question, and- Because I say so, and because I know what I’m doing. Alright- let’s go hide out in the gym locker-room. Plenty of places to hide, plenty of potential weapons if we need them.

FRANK

Nah- I’m sticking with the closet idea, Charlie, you in?

CHARLIE

Sure man, ‘course I am.

DENNIS

Yes- split up! Fine- goddamnit- (He gestures angrily) That’s what every killer wants! (He turns back to the others, exasperated) Are you guys with me?

DEE

(Shrugs)

Yeah, sure, why not.

INT. THE MEN’S LOCKER ROOM IN THE GYM

MAC, DENNIS, and DEE are standing near the entrance.

DENNIS

Alright. Mac- you stay near the door, keep guard, Dee- into one of these lockers. I’ll climb up into the rafters and maintain the element of surprise if necessary. Got it?

INT. THE DARK INTERIOR OF A CLOSET IN WHAT’S PRESUMABLY THE BOILER ROOM

CHARLIE is looking out through the slits in the door, lined shadows playing upon his face. He crinkles up his nose.

CHARLIE

Frank what's that smell, did you- shit your pants what the fuck, Frank, aw it stinks in here.

FRANK

Charlie- charlie, get your hand off me it feels like a goddamn ice cube.

CHARLIE

Dude- I’m not touching you.

FRANK

Aw fuck it's another dead one isn't it, goddamnit I knew it. Alright, get in 'is pockets Charlie, we gotta get outta here, but get his cash first, leave the card or the cops’ll get suspicious when they find him.

CHARLIE

(Shoving the wad of cash into his pocket as FRANK pries open the closet door)

Alright- well, now where do we go?

FRANK

(Shrugs)

Might’as well go meet up with the others.

INT. THE MEN’S LOCKER ROOM IN THE GYM AGAIN

MAC is gripping the corner of the wall, peering around it.

MAC

Yo- Dennis- someone’s coming.  

He glances up at Dennis, who is perched precariously on a thin piece of wood, white knuckles wrapped around another inch thick piece of the rafters. He is uncomfortable, but trying very hard to look as if he is not.

DENNIS

Yeah? What do they look like?

MAC

(Peeking back around the corner)

Not sure yet.

DEE (O.S, FROM INSIDE THE LOCKER)

Well get back in here, don’t let them see you. If they come in here we’ll deal with them then.

MAC shrugs and obliges, sliding into one of the lockers.

DENNIS

(Quietly)

Alright. When you see them, I want you to scream, and I’ll jump down and surprise them. Then jump out of the lockers and ambush them. Got it?

Before MAC or DEE can agree, FRANK enters the room, and MAC lets out a high pitched scream. DENNIS attempts to make a badass leap down from the rafters, but only succeeds in clumsily falling down and landing on top of FRANK. DEE and MAC race out of the lockers, screaming, and pile on top of CHARLIE as he enters. CHARLIE and FRANK, thinking that the other three are the murderers continue to fight back until they finally realize that they’re just beating each other up. Everything goes quiet for a moment and they all freeze mid-fight.

Cut to:

INT. THE MEN’S LOCKER ROOM IN THE GYM, A COUPLE MINUTES LATER  

The gang is sitting in front of the lockers, covered in bruises, scratches, etc. DEE is holding a wet paper-towel over a cut on her forehead. DENNIS is holding up a hand mirror and lamenting over his bruised, swollen left eye. MAC is eating a granola bar and staring vacantly at the wall in front of them. CHARLIE is picking at one of the scratches on his arm. FRANK is bleeding profusely from a large cut on his neck. This doesn’t seem to phase him. The scene is silent for a moment. Finally, DENNIS speaks up.

DENNIS

Well that went poorly.

DEE

Yep.

MAC

Absolutely.

CHARLIE

It was bad.

DENNIS

But you know what- us thinking that each other were the murderers- it got me thinking- what if one of us is the killer?

CHARLIE

Yeah- me and Frank already did that when we were in the closet. But we decided that if it was any of us, it was you.

DEE

Yeah, I agree.

DENNIS

What? Me? Why me?

They shrug.

CHARLIE

You got that- that weird eye thing going on. (He pries open his eyes with his fingers to demonstrate)

DEE

Yeah- yeah. The serial killer eyes. Ever since we were kids.

DENNIS

Oh, screw you guys. If I had done this, I’d have killed all of you assholes first. And besides, I would never be this sloppy. This is just embarrassing. What the- the body in the elevator shaft, the closet- I mean, really, as if those weren’t going to get found. It’s all been done without any- care, any concern for the art.

DEE

See, it’s this kind of weird psycho talk that makes us think you’re the killer.

DENNIS

Shut up, bird.

CHARLIE

Ahhaha she is a bird!

DEE

Oh goddamnit!

CHARLIE, who is sitting beside FRANK, notices that his eyes are closed, and that he didn’t laugh at the bird thing. Strange.

CHARLIE

Frank. Hey- wake up. You missed a funny joke.

FRANK doesn’t respond, and has presumably passed out from blood loss.

DENNIS

Alright, well, we can’t carry him around with us, so. Leave him?

Everyone agrees. They walk out of the locker room but the camera remains focused on FRANK’S unconscious body, slowly zooming in.

Cut to:

INT. A HALLWAY ON THE SECOND FLOOR

DENNIS

Alright, so, our best bet is, again- to stay together. I vote we just keep walking around casually, so if the killer does see us, he won’t know we know, and he’ll leave us alone.

CHARLIE

I don’t know man- we aren’t really sure why he’s killing people. I mean, there hasn’t been any connection that we know of between these people. Maybe he just likes killing.

DENNIS

Oh, so you’re an expert now.

CHARLIE

I just think-

DENNIS

You know what- I don’t care. Get killed all of you, just. Go get killed. Doesn’t matter to me. I’m sticking to the plan. You assholes can do whatever the fuck you want.

He throws his hands up and walks away. MAC, CHARLIE, and DEE walk in the other direction.

MAC

Dude- I think we should just call the police.

CHARLIE

Yeah. I left my phone in Dee’s apartment though.

MAC

Me too. You think we could sneak in and get them?

CHARLIE

Probably.

INT. DEE’S APARTMENT

MAC and CHARLIE are rooting around in the piles of junk on the floor looking for their phones.

MAC

Man, why is this place always such a mess.

DEE

Because you and Dennis trash it all the time.

MAC

You should really keep it cleaner, I mean, don’t you have any feminine- sensibilities or whatever? Isn’t that a thing women do, clean?

DEE

Alright, asshole, I’m going to ignore that. I’m heading to the bathroom. I ate some weird egg salad earlier, and it is not staying down. (She burps as if to prove her point)

MAC

Ew, gross. Did not need to know that. Whatever. Just spray the febreze when you’re done puking or whatever.

MAC and CHARLIE continue tossing trash around, the dead body casually lying in the background. Suddenly a loud crash is heard from the bathroom.

CHARLIE

What was that?

MAC

Sounded like it came from the bathroom.

CHARLIE

You think Dee’s okay?

MAC

How the hell would I know? You wanna check?

MAC keeps looking for their phones. CHARLIE opens up the bathroom door.

CHARLIE

Aw, shit. The toilet seat fell on her head. Dude- dude she’s out cold. Shit.

MAC

Well- I found your phone. You wanna just leave her there till the police come?

CHARLIE

Yeah, I guess. Shit man.

INT. A HALLWAY ON THE FIRST FLOOR

MAC and CHARLIE are leaning against the wall.

CHARLIE

How long until the police come do you think?

MAC

Who knows man, they said like, ten minutes, but like- that’s what the pizza place says and they don’t get here for like, thirty-five.

CHARLIE

Man. Don’t talk about pizza, you’re making me hungry.

MAC

There’s a vending machine on Dee’s floor. You wanna go back up?

CHARLIE

Hell yeah.

INT. A HALLWAY ON THE SECOND FLOOR

A tiny vending machine sits lonesome in a dimly lit cove in the wall. MAC points to it.

MAC

See, right there.

CHARLIE

Aw, sweet.

He begins walking towards it, but before he can get more than a few steps forward, MAC interrupts.

MAC

(Cautiously, voice almost a whisper)

Wait- doesn’t that look like exactly the sort of place a killer would be waiting out? Hang on- let me go check it out, make sure it’s safe, you know.

MAC creeps over towards the machine, trying to be stealthy, but managing to make himself look like a complete ass. He’s about halfway to the machine when he hears a cough from down the hallway and, in a panic, runs towards the window, screaming.

MAC

It’s the killer, save yourself Charlie!

He leaps out the window, glass shattering all across the hallway. CHARLIE runs over to the window and glances down. MAC is unconscious on the ground, legs in a position that legs should never be in.

CHARLIE

AW, shit.

DENNIS, the source of the cough, walks up behind him.

DENNIS

What the hell was that about?

CHARLIE

(Startled)

Shit- goddamnit man- you scared the shit out of both of us.

DENNIS

Apparently.

CHARLIE

You think he’s okay?

DENNIS

(Shrugs)

I’ve seen him recover from worse.

CHARLIE

Aw, phew. Man, he looks bad though.

DENNIS

Nah, he’ll be fine.

CHARLIE walks back over to the vending machine and slips a dollar in.

CHARLIE

It’s just you and me now man. Everyone else is out cold.

DENNIS

What happened to Dee?

CHARLIE

Toilet seat fell on her head.

DENNIS

(Laughs)

That goddamn bitch. Aw. Man, that’s hilarious.

CHARLIE

(Laughing)

Yeah, it was pretty funny.

CHARLIE reaches into the bottom of the vending machine and we see him struggle for a minute before he pulls out what appears to be a human hand.

DENNIS

Is that… a hand?

CHARLIE

Yeah, you know what, I think it is. That’s weird. I’m pretty sure I pressed the button for a bag of chips but-

DENNIS

I bet there’s a whole body in there. Hey, Charlie, reach up in and see if you can pull anything else out.

CHARLIE

Alright.

CHARLIE leans down and starts rooting around in the machine, until he’s all but inside of it. He starts tugging at the severed arm, and the machine starts rocking back and forth.

DENNIS

You should probably be a little more careful. You’re gonna pull the whole thing down.

CHARLIE

Nah man, it’s cool. I almost got it.

That sentence is followed by an immediate crash as the vending machine topples down on top of him. DENNIS sighs.

DENNIS

Just me now. Idiots. Goddamn idiots. (He spins around and raises his voice) Alright! Four murders! I’m impressed. Sloppy, sure, but hey. We’ve all got our own methods. I’m impressed, really, I could never do it. (He begins clapping) Come on out now, game’s over.

A figure in a black mask steps out of the shadows across the hall.

DENNIS

There we go. Yes. Come on over here.

The figure stops right in front of him and takes off the mask, letting her long, brunette hair fall down her back. She smiles at him.

DENNIS

Oh. You’re- a- a woman.

MURDER WOMAN

Absolutely. I’m a woman, and you’re a very handsome man-

She runs her fingers through his hair and leans in, her plump, red lips, inches from his. He-

Mac’s voice suddenly entered the shot,and it began to dissolve, fading to the five of them sitting in Dee’s apartment.

“Now hold on- I was willing to play along with some of that other bullshit, I mean, I never would’ve jumped out the window over a little cough, but this is-”

Dee rolled her eyes. “Look, when you invited everyone to movie night tonight, we were hoping for an actual movie, not one you wrote.”

Frank nodded. “Yeah- the bitch is right for once.”

“It was full of plot holes,” Dee said, shaking her head.

“Totally out of character,” Mac chimed in.

“You know- I didn’t ask for criticism,” Dennis said defensively, holding the script to his chest.

“What’re you gonna do? Kill us?” Dee laughs.

The others join in.

Dennis sits silently, jaw taut, eyes narrowed.

Laughter can still be heard as the screen begins to fade, the camera zooms in on Dennis’ face. “Hip To Be Square” plays.

FADE OUT:

END

#iasip #it's always sunny in philadelphia #it's always sunny #fanfic #fan ep #zoey writes

[becauseimsensational]

Killing Eve rewatch: "I'll Deal With Him Later"

Of course, Eve remains as tangentially relatable as ever during her meeting with Carolyn: from the five seconds of awkward stuttering that seem to last five minutes because secondhand embarrassment is a REAL problem, to the point at which she explodes in her learned polite, British manner, Eve's frustration leaps off the screen and demands attention. I have to wonder how many times she's tried explaining this theory of hers to Niko, or to Bill and Elena, and how many times they'd tell her she was insane and grasping at straws. For once, someone is listening to her, believes her, and isn't calling her crazy. The line, "It's like I've stepped into my brain!" is massively important for both Eve and the audience. It shows Eve's intelligence and tenacity with these cases, but it also gives her a sense of agency and validates the extra secret work she'd put in at MI-5 that's now paying off. (Side note: God bless Phoebe Waller-Bridge for casting Fiona Shaw as Carolyn, because that line about the rat drinking from the can of Coke is so absurdly funny due to her deadpan delivery of it, and I'm not sure any other actress would've been able to do that line justice.) That whole scene is also a massive turning point, because Eve is finally allowed to investigate what she wants to, and she's got no boundaries or dickswab superiors telling her she can't.

I think one of the most endearing things about Villanelle is her sense of humor and the deadpan delivery of some of her answers. The exchange with Konstantin about the bruise on her eye is undeniably funny, but it's interesting that a hardened assassin uses humor to deflect any possible kernel of truth, even with someone she's so familiar with. The assessment scene is wickedly funny, too, in true Villanelle fashion. The line about the photo of the hanged man having "good legs" should not be funny, but somehow it is. Villanelle subverts all expectations, laughing at and making light of things that "ordinary" people should not—but don't we all know someone like that, who laughs at awfully morbid things? Who uses humor as a mask for their true feelings? (I personally use dark humor constantly to cover the trauma I experienced in the past, which may be informing my feelings toward the assessment scene, but I digress.) The appeal of using dark humor in stressful situations is a sense of control that I think most of us crave. It's a control that Villanelle certainly has—until Konstantin makes Jerome ask her about Anna and shows her the sketch of the woman. For me, there are two possibilities here: either she's lying and the woman is Anna, or she's lying and it is actually her mother.

Either would make sense, honestly. It's very easy to lie and bite out the first denial that comes to mind, even if it's just a direct reversal of what the other person said. At this point, the audience doesn't know who Anna is, but we can assume she was someone important to Villanelle, or she wouldn't have had such a hard time getting back to using humor to control the situation. I personally think Villanelle was, for once, being genuine when she said the woman was supposed to be her mother. It could make sense, given the fact that she keeps staring at older women with dark hair. It could be an unfulfilled maternal fantasy, or I could just be talking out of my ass and she was actually joking about it being her mom. Also, we don't know how long Konstantin had that sketch in his possession for, so it's unlikely the woman in the sketch is Eve. On the off-chance it is actually Eve (or Random London Hospital Woman, from Villanelle's pov), maybe Villanelle sketched it because her hair reminded her of Anna's. But who knows? That scene is still kind of ambiguous to me.

After the assessment when she hugs Konstantin, I sensed a bit of a disconnect. The hug looked inorganic, forced, and like it was a spur-of-the-moment thing she remembered that people do sometimes. This is definitely coming from beyond the constraints of just this episode, but I'd be willing to bet she's never hugged anyone without an ulterior motive. Ever. Call me crazy but Villanelle just doesn't seem like a hugger. Someone pointed out to me that Villanelle is very similar to an AI, a comparison I hate (because robots terrify me lol) but one that makes sense. She has no moral compass or ethical code, she's an efficient killing machine and, most interestingly, she mimics other people's behavior to fit in. I truly think she has no idea how to be a "normal" human, which explains the smiling battle with the little girl on the ice cream shop from episode one, the awkward way she hugs Konstantin, and then mimicking the laughter she hears on the radio when she's out with Sebastian.

Oh, Sebastian. Adorable, sweet, sensitive Sebastian. I actually was rooting for him to stay alive, but…well, we see how long that lasted. While the sex scene didn't come as a shock to me at all, the logistics of it were weirdly refreshing. For once, the woman was on top, in total control, and the man was begging for mercy. For once, the man was being used as a sexual object for the woman's gratification. I found myself audibly "aww-ing" for the fifth fucking time because I'm a sap when Sebastian assured Villanelle he'd never hurt her, while her hand was around his throat. Never one for sentimentality, Villanelle's cold, vacant eyes and flat affect tacitly told us all we needed to know: "This was fun, but I don't believe you. And I'm not going to let you get close enough to find out if you're lying."

The subtle recognition in Eve's eyes in the bathroom speaks to the nuance of Sandra Oh's acting. It's clearly just a passing remembrance, because I'm fairly certain the traumatic memory of walking into witness the carnage in that hospital room would outweigh a nurse in a bathroom, but for some reason the encounter stood out to Eve. She's almost constantly fiddling with her luxurious mane, and probably spends most of her time trying to keep it out of her face. And then a random beautiful young woman stares at her for a little too long, then tells her to "Wear it down," which may have been the first time anyone's ever told her that.

THE KILL: It might sound demented, but I think this one is my favorite. Villanelle is a master manipulator and knows exactly what to say to get Carla to smell her perfume. Not to mention all the preparation that went into that kill? Mixing that toxic perfume, having the correct outfit and wig, the "three weeks of catering training" she supposedly did, and the tampon in her pocket as an excuse to get to her target? She really thinks of everything when it comes to her job, and that's a determination I can support! (Well, mostly, I mean she is killing people…) But then there's the utter fascination in her eyes as she watches Madame De Mann die, slowly and excruciatingly. And then, of course, Villanelle makes it laugh-out-loud funny by grabbing the woman's hand and waving goodbye with it, once again using dark humor even though she's had control of the situation the whole time.

Yet again, Sebastian's the sweetest guy who didn't deserve what happened to him. He's not an idiot, of course he didn't believe that Konstantin was her brother. Not to mention he literally walked in on him choking her against the wall? His willingness to protect Villanelle (AKA "Julie") is adorable and noble, but it was his curiosity and desire to support her in her perfume business that got him in the end, poor guy. Also, Konstantin's lazy, half-assed "I'm her brother" never fails to crack me up, along with Villanelle's "Dealt with" when they find Sebastian's body. PWB's writing and Jodie Comer's delivery are the perfect match, I swear.

The final scene of both leading ladies trying to research the other has to be one of my favorites of the series. In a way, it's a little like the moment in You've Got Mail when Tom Hanks realizes the perpetual thorn in his side is the woman he's in love with—but Meg Ryan's still in the dark for the rest of the movie. The instant oh shit look on Villanelle's face is priceless. She's relaxing in bed after a glass of champagne, googling Eve's name to see what comes up, and then…it's her. She probably never thought she'd see Hospital Bathroom Woman again, but there she is! On her screen, and leading a department just for her; the cocky grin she had when Konstantin first told her is nowhere to be found. On Eve's end, she's poring over every photo of every nurse at that hospital; it's late, she should be home in bed, but she can't sleep until she finds a photo of the woman. When she doesn't, it finally connects: "I think I've met her."

Random observations:

-During the assessment, Villanelle speaks of her mother in the present tense: "I'm joking. My mother has really thin, shitty hair." To me, that line indicated that her mother's alive. (Because I've seen this show in its entirety four times already, this will definitely come up again later but for now it's just something to keep in mind)

-Frank's still a dickswab. God I can't wait until I get to watch him get murdered again

-Why national anthems? Of all the genres of music she could have thrown out, why that one? She was born in a post-Soviet Russia, so the anthem's been toned down a bit; also, Konstantin told Jerome that she doesn't speak Russian anymore, indicating a disconnect from her homeland. But the French national anthem? That makes a little more sense for Villanelle to like. It's defiant, it's triumphant, and damn it's violent. But just because you like one country's national anthem doesn't mean you like them all, and most of the rest of them are boring "I love my country" rhetoric that are sorely lacking the mentions of bloodshed that the French have. She's just a constant surprise, I guess lol

-Sebastian's got a dressform in his apartment, which I think is cool because hey, he did actually make his trousers like he said.

-Villanelle eats on screen, which is so refreshing for a female character. And they're not like important meals, it's snacking and eating junk food like real people do. (Yeah, the bar for women acting like humans on screen is that low)

-Who would I be if I didn't mention that infamous champagne cork pop?! The placement of the bottle right between Jodie's legs, and the fact that it explodes right after Villanelle says Eve's name? Iconic. There had to have been some deity that blessed that take because…wow, it was perfect. And totally unexpected and unscripted, as Jodie confirmed on twitter.

-Even in the photo Villanelle finds of her, Eve's got her hand in her hair, messing with it as usual. Maybe it's a manifestation of Eve's insecurities, either about her appearance (for which there is no reason, have you seen Sandra Oh?) or about herself generally.

-If you pause the screen while Villanelle's googling, some of the search results are hilarious!

The first one (from the not at all made up website 'powbangsmash.tv') advertises "Horrific Wrestling Accidents" featuring Polastri Pulverizer, which is just so random, even for a fake google search.

The second is about Niko who, apparently, tutors people in the world's most boring card game AND was the national champion in 1998, because of course Niko's really really good at really really mundane things.

The third mentions the origins of the Polastri family line which: "BEGAN IN THE 1880S WITH ERIC POLASTRI, WHO HAD THREE WIVES EACH NAMED JANE" which is just bizarre

The fourth one, my favorite, is a One Direction Fan Fiction called "A Hallow's Eve in the wrong direction" from the site 'fanfictionsandhomemadetales.org' which, sadly, doesn't actually exist. (Yes I did look that one up)

The last one is about a house fire and how the dad saved the family's puppy, named Eve. Pets with human names will never not be funny to me, and Eve is just so odd-sounding for an animal.

#yay time for more rambling! #welcome to the inside of my brain for the past hour and a half #yea i know the episodes are only 45 minutes tops but i have a LOT of thoughts to weed through and edit lmao #Killing Eve s1e2 #lmfao i know that literally no one else is going to read this unfounded and completely unhinged psychoanalysis but like… #idgaf really i just want somewhere to vent about how spectacular this show is #phoebe waller bridge is a goddamn genius and id compromise whatever morals i might still be clinging to just to be on the same continent #its so hard not to draw parallels from later episodes since ive seen it already lol

[lessthanmacyalexis]

Weekend || Macy Alexis

Macy hadn’t actually been dreading going to work. Her weekend had been a mix of working until she literally passed out from exhaustion, chugging enough coffee to fuel her through the next day when Julia started crying and running around at some ungodly hour of the morning, trying to apologize but somehow going off and making things worse, and feeling so built up she might explode. Macy couldn’t talk to Blake or Killian about this right now, wouldn’t pull them into her fucking mistake and risk Jagger getting pissed at more of his friends. She didn’t want to talk to Rhys about it because he’d been fucking right but she’d gotten that advice too late and the only thing that felt certain in her life anymore was the stress her job had her under.  And Dustin had flown off to Vegas after their fight, so that didn’t exactly read as an invitation to talk to him.  She couldn’t actually come to a conclusion on what that did mean.  Where they stood. Was trying not to let her head get to her, not let the anxieties come in and make this bigger than it was.  But that didn’t mean she was necessarily good at it, every time she sat down to try and finish this work that she goddamn needed to have done by Monday the thoughts came and ate at her, got to the point where she couldn’t even focus on what she was doing. Maybe it was a breakup. Or if it wasn’t maybe it was leading to a breakup now, or he’d gone to Vegas to not have to risk even seeing her and a million other things that could have been the case. And she did her best to shut them up, even if by some turn this was the end of it all Dustin would at least talk to her about it, tried to make herself believe that it wasn’t the end because it was just something to get through, it was just a goddamn fight and they’d get over this like they’d gotten over the one before it, even if they had barely seen each other since that first fight, just with scheduling getting in the fucking way. Macy had wanted to invite him over every night, but she had work and wouldn’t be able to even really hold a conversation with him. Would have felt like she was wasting the little time she got with Dustin to just have him be in the same space as she was. But it would have been better than absolutely no time with Dustin.  At little less than two hours for lunch and two late nights, where Dustin had to leave in the early morning was all they’d gotten. And now they were in a fight and not talking again and she fucking regretted not having him over just to be around him.

At least there was more than enough that she had to do to distract Macy from her possibly collapsing relationship. She had so much work to do she almost didn’t sleep Saturday night, passed out on her studio chair somewhere around six am, and was woken up by Julia tugging on her shirt for breakfast at seven thirty. At least the toddler had slept in half an hour, it made it at least a half decent nap. And her dogs were a goddamn blessing and nobody could tell her she had too many, with Julia spending most of her day chasing around Simba,Bilbo and Roxie and tiring herself out so Macy didn’t have to exert all of her energy on trying to wrangle the girl into naptime, or for lunch. And not that it made any sense, but Macy could swear the dogs knew how much stress she was dealing with and were trying their best to help out. What Macy hadn’t counted on, however, was being done her work only hours after Julia’s bedtime on Sunday night. She finished her last tweaks by eleven, the rest she had to do with her band present. Had the to-do list on what they had to do in the studio this week, and what she’d have to re-mix, and then she’d be done. The album would be sent out for final approval and promoting would start, then their tour was set to kick off. They insisted Macy come to their kickoff show, since it was going to be in LA anyways. It’d be out of her hands, and she’d get to watch her career either takeoff or tank. But there was nothing she could do about it then, So she might as well get some fucking sleep. Lord knew it’d been at least a month, if not more, since she’d gotten a decent night’s sleep.  Macy took a long ass shower, it was nearly midnight by the time she got out, still she was doing better than normal at this point. Had a glass of wine, changed into one of Dustin’s shirts and went to bed. Some night she loved her California King, it meant she and Dustin could fit and the animals could come up without lying right on top of them.  But nights like this she hated it. Simba and Roxie slept in Julia’s room, but usually Bilbo would keep Macy company.  Not the case tonight. And Meg would always share the bed with her, but Meg wouldn’t go near the spot that Leila had slept in, so it was just a big reminder that she wasn’t there anymore. Macy tried rolling over, since Dustin wasn’t there she had most of the space to herself. But in two months he’d made it his spot, it smelled like him for christ’s sake. The bed felt huge and goddamn empty and when Macy started to feel like it was swallowing her whole she gave up and went to the living room. He mom had sent over a huge amount of old pictures she’d found. Probably well meaning, but Macy wanted to burn most of them.  Tons were photos of family events that Macy had invited Sarah to as her best friend, had her arm around the girl or some other thing that had been brushed off as them just being very close friends.  A few of them she did end up holding over a candle. That was when thoughts really started to eat at her, though, what if she was Dustin’s Sarah? The reason he lost the most important people in his life. Macy still fucking hated her, seven years after the fact, even though she had her family back and a better life than she ever could have had being with Sarah. And if that was who she became to Dustin, it didn’t seem plausible that it was something that they could get past.  The thought made her want to throw up.  It was about three am when Macy fell asleep on her couch, pictures from tours that her mother had gotten developed from disposable cameras Macy had had in Wales, after they’d reconnected. It was like her mother’s official peace offering, and even if she wasn’t exactly ready to forgive her either, she needed her family.

So Monday morning came, and while exhausted, work was easier than it had been in weeks, the first thing on the agenda was simply to listen to the album all the way through and talk about what they were going to do with it, what needed tweaking. They got pizza, told jokes, Macy could play along and smile and even be a little distracted from everything going on.  Julia was at daycare and Macy hadn’t gotten a call about any nightmares at naptime, the day felt like a success. Until she had picked Julia up from her sister’s apartment, and the girl had started asking her questions about where Dustin was. In jumbled Italian, the only consistent thing Macy could make out was ‘I miss Dustin’ and ‘I want a family’, and it tore Macy’s heart out. She didn’t have a lot of answers for Julia, she couldn’t very well explain the nuance of the situation to the two year old.  When they got back to their apartment, she thought she at least would have had a game plan. Julia’s questions kept coming, as best they could. “Where Dustin is, Momma?” “Can we see Dustin and squish puppy” “I wanna sleepover!” in a mix of italian and english at best, words the girl didn’t know in one language got swapped out for the other, if or something that sounded right at least.  Lots of babble, but the message was made clear every time Dustin’s name came clear as day from the toddler’s mouth. Macy sat Julia down on the couch, not knowing how effective it’d be, and tried explaining what was going on, why Dustin couldn’t come over or they couldn’t go over right now. She didn’t pass her anxiety fueled thoughts onto her daughter, didn’t include a warning that they might not be doing it at all, had to at least talk with Dustin first before she brought Julia face to face with the idea of someone you loved just not being in your life anymore.  To her surprise, Julia was nodding along as she spoke, as if Macy’s message was getting across perfectly. She then went to her room, saying she was going to go color.

Half an hour later when Macy went to get Julia for dinner,  the girl started waving her drawing in the air. “Let me see, mia vita.” Macy took the drawing when her daughter handed it to her, flipping it over to see what the girl had been hard at work at. Julia wasted no time in explaining the scribbles, like an artist giving their statement.  “It’s our family, mamma.” She tugged Macy’s shirt to get her to kneel down so she could point out the fine details in the work, the small brown blob was Simba, the big one was bilbo, the yellow one was roxie, and then three people were there, in height order. “Me, you, Dustin. Ro-mee-o.” She hit the paper with each shape she pointed out to Macy. “Give this to Dustin so he stops being gone always.” Julia said matter of factly, like she knew exactly how the problem was solved, like she didn’t know why Macy hadn’t thought of this first. And Macy just couldn’t hold herself together anymore. Tears started and didn’t seem like they were going to stop. She placed the drawing down to scoop up her daughter, hugging her close and letting out a loud sob, peppering the girl’s face with kisses. Julia seemed more than confused, asking multiple times if Momma was okay.  Macy would nod, but it took her a few minutes to actually stop.  “I just love you so much, sweet girl. So lucky God gave me you.” She didn’t release her daughter from the hug, instead carrying her into the dining room for dinner.

Julia insisted Macy promise Dustin would get the drawing, so Macy posted it right on the fridge for the next time Dustin was over.  And that’s where it stayed when Julia was finally in bed. Macy couldn’t stop staring at it. She tried to pretend that she couldn’t see anything more than scribbles, it wasn’t exactly well refined art, but Macy could see each of them. Kept hearing Julia go “Nostro famiglia, Mamma!”, how excited she sounded. Kept thinking about how that was the first time Macy had cried in front of Julia since the day she’d been born. Remembered the first time she saw her parents cry. Never had wanted to show that to Julia, at least until she was old enough to understand that Macy was a person with emotions too, not just her mom. Secretly hoped that never happened, being there for her daughter was one of the most amazing things in the world.  She pulled out a bottle of wine again, pouring some. Her Nonna had given her a wine rack before Julia was born, gave her the advice to always keep it stocked. Her Nonna was the smartest woman in the whole goddamn world.  Normally Macy would only have a glass with dinner, but lately it’d be one at dinner and at least one before bed. If not a night like this. She couldn’t afford to get drunk though, her day still came at her full force hungover or not.  Still, Macy made her way through half a bottle before she started feeling exhausted enough to sleep. She was still coherent, would probably argue she was tipsy, not drunk, had anyone been around to argue with her about it.  She was still staring down that drawing, when she decided on something a sober Macy definitely would not have done. Started texting Dustin, who had left the damn state after their fight, who if he ever wanted to hear from her probably would have reached out to her when he was ready to talk to her again.  And she tried her damn best to keep her anxieties from eating at her as she texted, but it just started  flowing, she was hitting send once the thoughts finished, before she could second guess herself. It had to have been at least twenty texts before she stopped writing. Macy wasn’t even a hundred percent sure what she’d said, just that it felt like less was held in now. She grabbed her phone and laid down on the couch, staring it down, willing the screen to light up. Time went away, she could have been there for five minutes or an hour before passing out, letting the phone slip off her chest and onto the floor face down until Tuesday morning.

#self para

[ingravinoveritas]

The level of my absolute rage right now at the quotes on this tweet of new pictures of Michael as Prince Andrew calling him "ugly" and "stupid" and a bunch of other names, all because they disagreed with one thing he said/did. The fact that these are set photos and Michael is literally in costume seems lost on all of these pusillanimous amoebae, none of whom should be allowed to operate heavy machinery unsupervised. And he is playing the nonciest nonce ever to nonce, so if he looks old and creepy and unfuckable, that means he is doing exceedingly well at his job, because while it is one thing to thirst over Michael when he's playing a serial killer, thirsting over him as Prince Andrew would be SO much worse.

Also, what really incenses me is that these people were clearly only fans of the version of Michael in their heads, rather than who he actually is, and now the rose-colored glasses are off, so they are pissed. Meanwhile these same people would flip a goddamn shit if someone insulted David's looks or Georgia/Anna's, but because Michael isn't considered "conventionally attractive," it's somehow completely fine and falls right in line with the fat-shaming comments he's gotten recently. This fandom is making me want to drink all the drinks right now...

#michael sheen #welsh seduction machine #i haven't been this worked up/ragey about a fandom thing in a long time #why do people do this #i can't even with this nonsense #i swear to God people have no sense of nuance anymore #but this tells you the maturity level of who we're dealing with #please do tell me how David is sure to thank you for attacking his best friend/more than part time lover #any minute now #i've had it officially.gif #fandom woes #discourse