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livingalifeofasimp · 3 years

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Hello! If it isn't too much, may I ask for a yan Zhongli x Reader, in which the Reader is the reincarnation, with bits of memories and personality, of Guizhong.. essentially Guizhong reborn.

Warning : This content contains Yandere themes, if you are sensitive please refrain yourself from reading it, arts belong to it's respective owner only the content is mine.

I am still alive (~‾▿‾)~

Tagging : @blueskywater-happiness

🎕 Yandere Zhongli X Reader 🎕

✥Zhongli holded Memory of dust in his hands, the stone dumbbell which contained her wisdom, and was challenged by her to unlock it. He still remember her, years passed away but the pain and memories of her still resided in his heart. Till this day he was not able to open it no matter how hard he tries, calm, kind hearted, the person he is today was made by her.

"Guizhong look at all the people here living their life the way you wanted them to be, I hope you are happy wherever you are".

Guizhong is the late Goddness of Dust, she was Morax's ally and best friend, she lost her life during Archon war with Zhongli by her side, death of a best friend, the only one close to him caused him misery even tho he is deprived of understanding emotions better, through life goes on and you learn to live without them.

✥Zhongli slipped tea through a decorated cup while waiting for a foreigner, Childe who was going to make him meet a stranger who wanted to set up a business dinner as per Liyue custom.

A sudden knock made Zhongli look up towards the sound "Yahooo Zhongli", just after Childe you walked in, you looked like someone he knew, your hair, your smile, your eyes glittering and the aura you had was quite familiar to him.

"I am Y/N thank you for giving us your time"

"Our Zhongli is such a nice sir - " Childe saw Zhongli staring at your face causing him to smirk "I know this lady is quite really pretty, I hope -" Embarrassed Zhongli intruped Childe "Let's get down with business".

✥Even you didn't knew anything about Zhongli, you still felt like you knew him from somewhere maybe you both must have crossed your paths, at the end you said what you wanted too.

"I feel like I have seen you from somewhere",

Zhongli was surprised, his eyes widen it couldn't be true right? People who go away didn't come back right? His mind must be playing game, it sure has to be it. He has seen people go and new ones coming all the people he had are replaced by new ones, not replaced exactly but it do not make any difference, no one can take their places, he don't want to be caughted in such misery but the cycle repeats itself.

"Certainly I hope so",

His calm and welcoming response made you smile, you hoped too it felt warm, it made you smile.

✥Undefined force made Zhongli meet you again and again, was it all just a coincidence or a fate leading, you would always invited him for lunch, dinner or even just for a walk, no matter how much Zhongli wanted to run away from the warmth you gave off, because one day you will be gone too just like others so there was no meaning to get close to you. You looked just like her, not the same but it still felt like you were traces of her, from which he desperately wanted to run away.

✥"Sir Zhongli, are you going somewhere?", You have seen him after such a long time maybe after one or two weeks, at some point you made Zhongli want to look out and search for you, no matter how much he pushes you away, he still find himself surrounded by your presence which make him loose control and hug you, urge you to hug him back comfort him, saying you won't go. Zhongli stopped his mind which was racing from such thoughts and invited you for star gazing.

"Miss L/N if you are free let's go to star gazing I am sure you must have seen such things but-"

"I don't mind let's go, I have been so tired of my work", you were so happy to finally make him open up to you besides its good to take breaks every now and then.

✥"Miss please take care of yourself, it would be bad if you got hurt, I hope you are taking 3 meals a day, please drink enough water and if you ever feel troubled by something don't give it any second thought just come to me I will be more than happy to help you", Zhongli looked at your shocked face, he must have lectured you enough, just when he was going to apologize for it, you burst out giggling, it felt good to have someone to worry for you, your smile made Zhongli's cheek turned red, it was so peaceful, your laughs were like her just a bit more melodic and sweet.

✥"Yes I will take care of myself, you too take care of yourself", Zhongli fake coughed and went ahead of you so that you couldn't see his face smiling like a child that hided with his one hand. "I appreciate your concern, let's meet tonight", he walked away leaving a confused you behind.

Just like a true gentleman Zhongli waited for you, only to see you looking all very pretty and perfect, infamous smile decorated his face, you grin in response before giving your hands in his.

✥"It's pretty isn't it", you looked towards the sky, stars hanging in them, small or big it looked like sparking dust, which was a very pleasing sight.

"It is", there is nothing new, Zhongli is almost tried of the same view yet it felt good to have someone by his side, for those moments he did not feel lonely.

"We humans are so fragile like a dust in this universe which is so big, when I look up, it feels like things can disappear just another second",

Zhongli flinched, as he slowly turned to look at your face, a delicate face that was looking at the stars curiously, your form shining under moonlight, you, are you really Guizhong, his hands extended to touch you, or are you just a illusion, your eyes founded it's way back to Zhongli beautiful face who flinched again at your sudden movement.

"Did I say something weird don't mind me", you laughed to lighten the atmosphere.

✥After that Zhongli's attention and focus wholeheartedly shifted towards you, he couldn't help but compare Guizhong and her reincarnation, you are a bit more carefree, cheerful and not as knowledgeable as her, he didn't blame you for it, you are just as cute as a child. No matter how hard he tried to push you away, everytime you would comeback, since you so persistent, he lost. Your liveliness made him fall for you, deep and hard to the point of no return, since you embraced him, he will hold you back just as tight to know that you are there and not disappearing at least for now.

✥Zhongli looks forward to meeting you more than he did before, fusses over a small wound more than your grandmother would. You get confused when Zhongli stares at your face quite long before apologizing, you certainly notice how attentive he has became. He smiles ever so brightly when you comes in his view, but you always fail to notice how he deadly glares at all the people and things that do not even breathe when you give them more attention than you give to him.

✥Zhongli grows to be more possessive and strict yet very loving towards you. His yandere tendency triggers when he saw you injured after coming back from the given mission, Zhongli dropped whatever he was doing and ran towards you, you got hurt his heart dropped, he didn't wanted you to disappear or get a single scratch, not when you give him such a warm and fussy feeling, he felt like a teenager in love but instead he was a obsessive God in love with you.

✥This whole incident will lead Zhongli to appeal for you to stay with him till you get well again or so you thought, he took care of everything you needed even when you don't needed them, he would feed you and do your hair, buy you everything that you desired but going out was prohibited, was it a price to pay for luxury?.

✥His paranoia will take over his mind if you said you would like to go to your own house, he does understand how homesick you must be feeling but he would feel the same if you left and it will be terrible because if you tried to escape from him or state that you hate him, his heart will break into millions pieces and might go back to how he was like before and it will be destructive to both you and all the other people, and you might be able to accept his yandere side since you have some memories and most importantly you pity him, so after throwing traumas for a week, in his eyes he thought you were afraid of being trapped in a room, slowly you realized how lonely he has been all these years without you.

✥Zhongli immediately melts when you willing touch him and comfortable him, won't it be better to heal his heart which leaks of sadness and fear of losing you, the person who is dearly valuable to him, he would clingy to you like his life depends on it or maybe it really does.

-ˋˏ✄┈┈┈┈┈┈┈┈┈┈┈┈┈┈┈┈┈┈┈┈┈┈┈┈┈

#yandere story #yandere #yandere male #yandere male x reader #genshin impact #yandere genshin impact #yandere x reader #tumblr #tumblrfeed #genshin impact zhongli #yandere Zhongli #yandere Zhongli x reader #female reader

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athenagrantnash · 3 years

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Gunpowder Milkshake review

There are four elements to a film that, when all are achieved, can elevate a film from “good” to “great”; and any film that can achieve at least two of these elements is certainly a good and enjoyable film.

These elements are (in no particular order)*:

Aesthetic

Cast (charm, likeability, acting skill, etc)

Characters

Writing (story, script, dialogue etc.)

*While all four elements are important, writing is in my opinion the most important of the four.

So does Gunpowder Milkshake achieve all of these elements? Let’s discuss. (not a spoiler free review)

1) Aesthetic

I cannot say enough good things about the aesthetic of this film. The lighting, the camerawork, the set design, the costumes, it is all top notch. There is never a moment where what you are looking at isn’t visually engaging.

One of my favorite elements is how much is said about each character based on their costumes.

Karen Gillan’s Sam wears an orange jacket for the majority of the film - a jacket she stole because she didn’t like the clothing provided for her. Early in the film it’s established she doesn’t quite know what kind of assassin she is - she is as undefined as her jacket. But there’s a sportsmanship about her, as she won’t kill the three stooges when they aren’t trying to kill her, and she draws the line at ever letting a child be in danger.

Chloe Coleman’s Emily spends the entire movie in a yellow coat - representing the optimism and joy that comes with childhood innocence, an innocence that at the end is marred by the blood red handprint across the back of her coat.

The clothes worn by Angela Bassett’s Anna May, Carla Gugino’s Madeleine, and Michelle Yeoh’s Florence are all very similar, but specific to each character.

Anna May wears dark blue - signifying depth and power - and she has more layers than anybody else - Madeleine has the sweater/jacket, Florence has the vest, and Anna May has both. And just like her clothing, she has layers. You can sense the power and ferocity, and anger that lies rippling just below the surface, only just barely kept in check.

Florence wears green - signifying serenity - , and her outfit has nothing loose or soft about it. She is exactly as she appears to be - exactly as a tiger stalking its prey appears to be - quiet, contained, serene... deadly. It’s her serenity that keeps Anna May’s ferocity in check, but don’t mistake that for safety.

Madeleine wears pink - signifying kindness - and instead of Florence’s vest or Anna May’s vest/suit jacket combo, she instead wears a soft sweater. She is kind, trusting to her instincts, and protective of Emily. But her kindness is not weakness - just look at her weapon of choice if you disagree.

And while everybody else is wearing bright and/or striking colors, Sam’s orange jacket, Emily’s yellow coat, Anna May’s blue suit, Florence’s green vest, Madeleine’s pink sweater, Scarlet - completely at odds with her name - is wearing colors that are practically nondescript. She has isolated herself from the other Librarians, and that’s shown in a beautifully subtle way through her clothing. And yet, in a further note of subtlety, she is wearing soft oranges, showing her connection to Sam (also in orange) and how that connection is what brings her back from her isolation. Her clothing is loose, but not soft, reflecting a deceptive casualness, which matches her personality perfectly.

I’m not even going to touch on the visual brilliance of the lighting, set design, and camerawork because words literally will not do it justice. You just have to watch and see for yourself.

Additionally, an argument can be made that, since “action” is not its own category, that would fit into this section too - and while it’s literally impossible to top how visually engaging the lighting/set design/camerawork/etc. are, the action is certainly on par with it. The fights are all incredibly fun and creative, and they take advantage of the setting they are placed in, the road blocks or handicaps the characters have to work with, and at no point ever feel stale, repetetive, or boring.

So where does this movie rank in aesthetic? 5/5

2) Cast

There is not a weak link in this entire cast! Karen Gillan, Lena Heady, Angela Bassett, Michelle Yeoh, Carla Gugino, Paul Giamatti - every single one of these actors has proven time and again how much talent, charm, and onscreen charisma they have. Relative newcomer Chloe Coleman legitimately holds her own, even among such a star-studded cast, and is simultaneously sympathetic, charming, likable, and absolutely adorable.

Even bit players like the three stooges that Sam takes out, Emily’s dad, the doctor, and Jim McAlester play their roles to perfection.

As a side note, am I the only one who was a little bit disappointed that McAlester’s first name was Jim? It would have been hilarious if his first name was Kevin, and then we could have drawn our own conclusions about the criminal turn Kevin McCallister’s life took when he truly embraced his childhood propensity for chaos.

So where does this movie rank in cast? 5/5

3) Characters

This is where the movie starts to falter a little bit. Every single character is likable, but a lot of that can be attributed to how excellent the cast is.

Most of the characters are fairly cookie cutter, and while there is nothing about them that is particularly annoying or stereotypical, none of them have enough depth to truly be “great” characters.

The closest any character has to having any sort of depth or complexity is Nathan, who - while he doesn’t hesitate to send an entire army after Sam - sends her a private message and provides the only help he can.

Not that any of the characters are bad - I think my analysis of the lead lady’s clothing proves my opinions on that pretty conclusively - but they could have been better

Additionally, at just under 2 hours there is barely enough time to develop them properly. Florence in particular could have been much further fleshed out in ways that are not solely inferred through the costume design and acting.

The relationships between Emily and Sam, Sam and Scarlet, Scarlet and Anna May, Sam and Madeleine, Anna May and Madeleine, and Madeleine and Emily are done fairly well. I understood each dynamic and how it worked in the larger story that was unfolding. Florence had none of that - to the point that (if not for the inferred analysis based on clothing) I’m still not entirely sure if she or Anna May was the de facto leader of the librarians. If they had added something - either her legitimately having a moment where she takes charge or (even better) establish a rivalry between Florence and Anna May over who is in charge that would have done a lot, but unfortunately as it stands Florence didn’t get the development that Michelle Yeoh deserved.

So where does this movie rank in characters? 3/5

4) Writing

If the movie started to falter a bit when it came to its characters, it faltered even more when it came to the writing. In fact it’s the writing that can be blamed for the characters not given the development they should have gotten, even if these are two different categories.

And yes, it’s an action film, so technically the plot takes second place to the fisticuffs and gunplay - and while I’m not going to hold the genre against the film, even as an action film the script could have been a lot stronger.

Most importantly, the movie should have been at least thirty minutes longer in order to allow more growth and development for each of the characters. One scene that should have been in the movie was one of Emily while she was captured by McAlister. He should have tried to turn her against Sam, not realizing that the revelation that he had killed her dad had already done that. But Emily is smart, and the more he talks the more she realizes she’s directing her anger at the wrong person. Then when Sam turns herself in so that she’ll be safe it solidifies it for her - Sam might have pulled the trigger, but she’s not the heartless killer that she should be angry at.

And that is just one example of how a longer runtime and a few more rewrites could have given the story and characters a lot more depth.

Now onto the white elephant in the room.

“There’s a group of men called the firm” (yes, I’m going there... somebody has to).

I get what the film was going for, but this is the most perfect example of why it needed one or two more rewrites. 1) If it’s a group of men, why is Sam working for them and why is she recognized as the best at what she does? The movie is trying to imply inherent sexism, but because it felt the need to slam us over the head with that line all subtlety was lost.

Sam could have just called it “a group” and then we the audience would see that while men and women work for them, the ones calling the shots are all men. And then to turn around and show how much more prepared, professional, and competent the Librarians are would make this point in a much more subtle and compelling way. There is a lot more power in using that kind of storytelling than in explicitly telling your point to the audience in so many words.

However, while most movies that go this route make all their male characters useless or stupid, Gunpowder Milkshake did manage to not do that. Other than the three stooges, which Nathan chose to send after Sam because he didn’t want her killed, therefore by design are supposed to be useless, all of the people that our mains go up against feel like legitimate threats.

And I’m glad, because as a woman I do not like the recent tendency to turn men into useless idiots and then imply that is the only way the women managed to defeat them. I want women going up against men who are at their best, and still win. And this movie did that.

Additionally, I will say that the whole “group of men” thing is a minor quibble on my part, as it doesn’t fall into the pitfalls most other movies who are making this point fall into. But it is unfortunately an example of why the writing could have been much better.

Add in some awkward dialogue that only worked because of how ridiculously charming and likable everybody in the cast is, and we unfortunately have writing that is sub par and does not live up to the standards set by the other three elements. The aesthetic, the cast, and even the characters deserved better writing.

As a side note: Where do these people get their milkshakes that they manage not to melt even after three hours? Because that’s some circa 3000 level galaxy brain and I want it.

So where does this movie rank in its writing? 2/5

Conclusion:

I said at the top that for a movie to be “great” it has to meet all four elements, but to be "good” it only has to meet two, and Gunpowder Milkshake definitely meets two of the elements.

Where it begins faltering and falls short of being “great” is in the characters and the writing, which is a shame because the brilliance of the cast and the genuinely engaging and breathtaking aesthetic deserved to be in a movie that can be called great.

I would love a sequel to this movie that does flesh out the relationships better, provide more depth to the characters, and allows for the writing to match the quality of the cast/aesthetic.

So what is my total ranking for this film? 3.5/5

It’s good, and I will definitely watch it again and recommend it to people, but it so easily could have been great.

#gunpowder milkshake #karen gillan #lena heady #angela bassett #michelle yeoh #carla gugino #look at that I managed to actually be professional and write a whole interview that didn't include simping over A ngela B assett #y'all should be proud of me

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handlewithkara · 4 years

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Why would Karamel fans “move on” from Karamel?

I am puzzled by this concept that Karamel shouldn’t be rooting for Karamel anymore. It just boggles my mind in so many ways for so many reasons, I felt like jotting down some of them;

1.) Shipping does not work that way. Look I could elaborate, but I think most people who have ever encountered shipping understand this aspect.

2.) Kara has NOT expressed comparable romantic emotions towards anybody since Mon-El.

(gif by @ i-am-aci01 )

Look, I know there are fans who wish she would express that kind of romantic interest in other people, but looking at the show, it’s just a fact that it hasn’t happened. And since there is only one more season left, I don’t think bringing in somebody new would work, nor do I personally believe in any other relationships that have just been rather tepid.

This is not a case of: Kara has found happiness with somebody new, you should be happy for her, because that flat out hasn’t happened. She just hasn’t gone to the same level of relationship and romantic interest with anybody else (wake me up when Kara kisses a person, has sex with them, moves in with them).

Not all Karamel fans feel that way, but I consider myself one of the fans who is open to the concept in theory, because I do love Kara. But it just hasn’t happened. There just is not relationship that makes me consider “okay, you should really respect that Kara happens to romantically love this person now more than she did Mon-El”.

(as for Mon-El, yes he found somebody but to me season 3 made it clear that he was not happy with her and he ended things with her, they could have used Winn’s visit to tell us that Mon-El changed his mind on that or found somebody new altogether, but again, this is not what happened. As it stand the last what we knew of Mon-El was still that he was deeply unhappy to go back to the future and only did it out of duty)

3.) Kara wants romantic love. I get the concept of Kara not needing a romantic relationship to live and the sister relationship between Kara and Alex being the most important one. The thing about Kara is... she has always wanted love. In Supergirl’s pilot episode, we see her proactively looking for love by going on a blind date.

In one of her timelinewise earliest moments where she could feasibly have urges she voices her desire to express herself romantically:

(gif by @ i-am-aci01 )

She explicitly expresses this in season 1:

(gif by @ i-am-aci01 )

Kara found love with Mon-El and lost it. And then she didn’t have any meaningful romantic progress for two years. She didn’t whine about it. She didn’t neglect her duties to search love. She was just basically still the same kick ass hero who helps others and supports her friends.

So maybe one could argue, okay, maybe the drama with Mon-El turned Kara into a person who has no interest in romantic love anymore. Except ... to me (other than how that being a really sad story) again that didn’t happen. When William unexpectantly asks her out, she has a big smile and she does want to go on a date with him. And when I look at the scene where she expresses her frustration on how she can’t progress things with William

(gif by @ i-am-aci01 )

I don’t look at that scene and think that this is a woman who needs to learn she doesn’t need romantic relationships. I look at this scene and see a woman who wants love and it’s really unfair that she sholdn’t get to have one, that circumstances shouldn’t allow it for her.

Especially: if Alex is allowed to have romantic relationships on the side without it threatening the Sisters Uber Alles status, why can’t Kara? Why would Kara’s romantic relationship be a threat to a sister ending when Alex’ relationship isn’t?

To me it’s just really clear from Kara’s history on the show and the opinions she has expressed that Kara wants romantic love and to me it feels sad and unjust that she shouldn’t get to have one, especially with how long it has been since she had a relationship, especially when fellow heroes Nia and Brainy can have one and her sister can also have one.

The arc of Kara’s romantic relationships has never been that she’s too thirsty and needs to learn to keep in her pants, not has it been that she doesn’t want it. It has overwhelmingly been that she wants it but things got in the way, things like duty, getting murdered by your high school teacher or alien invasions and time traveling inducing wormholes.

Even if the message were that maybe Kara doesn’t like relationships enough, I still feel like the logical way to sensibly close up this arc would still be for Kara to get to experience a relationship without things getting in the way, so she can properly decide that maybe that isn’t what she wants. (I for one would argue: Kara has already kind of experienced that with James and it most certainly did not cure her from wanting a romantic relationship since she started a relationship with Mon-El soon after)

4.) Kara and Mon-El’s season 3 ending sucked and provided no closure. I know there are people who did not like the relationship and hence probably didn’t pay much attention to Mon-El’s exit episode. But as a Karamel fan, of course the details matter to me. And the details sucked. And they didn’t just suck because “damn, I didn’t get my preferred couple together romantically”, but also because the details were intensely frustrating, From Kara’s point of view it is frustrating that she never got to hear the whole story (and all the bits I mentioned in my previous points in regards to Kara and her romantic arc in general). And from Mon-El’s point of view because Mon-El was very clearly unhappy when he left.

In the end, there are generally two reasons why people “move on”, either because they have gotten closure (something that wasn’t the case with Kara and Mon-El) or because something better came along (whether within the show or in a different show or fandom, and for many people that just isn’t the case, either because good ships are rare or because people still care about Kara and nothing better has come along for Kara)

If the writers didn’t want to continue Karamel as a romantic storyline, there is ways they could have gone about it. Very easily. Instead they left the characters on these deeply unsatisfying note. There is a lot of options they could have gone for which I would still have disliked as a fan of the Kara&Mon-El romantic relationship, but I would have grudgingly accepted.

They could have put Kara into a new relationship very quickly and have her drop lines that downplay her relationship with Mon-El and have Mon-El be happy for her. (basically what they did with James)

They could have had him return the necklace to symbolically put an end to Karamel’s romantic relationship, for Kara to give it to Alex or her next love interest. Or Mon-El could have given it to Alura, who was right there, since it was her necklace originally. Instead, after a season that put intentional emphasis on the necklace, Mon-El leaves still having it.

They could have had Mon-El and Imra reunite melodramatically in the finale and have him declare his feelings for Kara were just an illusion, Imra is who is supposed to be with. It could even have worked as a nice parallel to Kara saying she nearly lost herself when she tried to pursue violence against Reign. Except that just isn’t what happened, this isn’t what they wrote for Mon-El. What they did write is Mon-El smiling at the thought of spending more time with Kara (even giving Brainy a line that draws emphasis to the fact that Mon-El is smiling) and being saddened when Brainy tells him he can’t, he has to go back.

So, let’s say, maybe end of season 3 was too quick for the writers to come up with something good. Well in that case they had another opportunity to put a final lid on the relationship when Winn came back for a guest episode. They could have had Winn return the necklace and tell Kara that Mon-El died. Kara would have been a bit sad and as a viewer I would have gotten the message, okay, he is not coming back, any appearance is at most going to be an AU.

They could have used Winn to tell us Mon-El returned back to Imra and they have seven children now. Again as a viewer I would have gotten the message, okay, so the writers tell me Mon-El and Imra are supposed to be together in every universe, Mon-El can’t be a good character if he leaves seven kids behind.

Instead they did nothing. They left Karamel in complete undefined limbo (with nothing coming in to replace it or otherwise directly contradict it) with the last note they ended on being Mon-El going back to the future because Brainy tells him that he HAS to, not because this is what Mon-El would have chosen, because Mon-El needs to be a big damn hero, not because that is what makes Mon-El happy.

5.) This is the last season, if there is a time to hope for a happy ending, people do understand that it is now, right? Especially since the show has shown in the 100th episode that they are willing to bring Mon-El back for special occasions. So there is a precedent. They brought him back once for a very special episode, so why would it be unreasonable for me to hope that they would do it again, even if it were only for an Easter Egg?

Especially since I really enjoyed his guest appearance and how they wrote him. Even if they didn’t want to return to romantic Karamel, I would still want him to return and see them again, kicking butt together, giving each other advice. That would still make me happy and I would be rooting for that regardless of what Kara’s romantic choices are, because I like their characters and I think they have great chemistry together and I want to see them do scenes together.

So no, I am not getting my hopes up for anything beyond an episode 100 style guest appearnce. But I don’t feel guilty for hoping this or for saying if they were wiling to give more, I’d be very happy. Because Kara is still there, still wants love and nobody has taken Mon-El’s place. Because their relationship was left on a tragic note. And because the last time they brought him back, it felt like it was on good terms, I really enjoyed it and it was respectful towards Karamel’s history, even if it wasn’t overtly in your face romantic (but open enough so fans could see something if they wanted to [because of the angry face Kara makes when Myxy talks badly of Mon-El, because of the face she makes when he gets killed, because of the face she makes when he walks past and her eyes follow him].

If all that happaned was Mon-El having a short cameo rather than a proper getting together arc, yeah, I would be kind of sad. But I just recently wrote a lengthy post about the many things Karamel did get already (because Karamel did get the kisses and the lseeping together and the living together and the declaring their love to each other and the true love’s kiss), and even though O do strongly think that there is still a story there, I could live with it being just a cameo. To me it would still be a nice note to leave the characters on considering their history as we have seen it so far.

Of course people who just never saw the chemistry or the potential are free to hope for something else, but since I’m a shipper, I did see the chemistry and the potential, so yeah, why would I stop now?

#supergirl #karamel #kara danvers #Mon-El #kara zor-el #shipping

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kittae · 4 years

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Spray Away

pairing: Hoseok x reader

genre: crack, comedy, fluff, reader POV

word count: 2296

prompt: Genie!reader + 15. “Please put your penis away.”

⟶ Halloween prompts masterlist

If anyone would ask? Then no, your life hasn’t been all that great since you’d been banished from the Spirit World and into a stupid perfume bottle, roughly a millennium ago. Granted, no one ever asked that question. They asked plenty of other questions, though. They asked for money, true love, to go back in time, more money, to bring back a dead loved one, and most of all: money. You may still be a supernatural entity with cosmic powers, there were limits to what you could do. Well, legal limits only. Apparently, just because you could, doesn’t mean you should. Messing with the balance between life and death, choice and destiny, was exactly what got you into this situation.

You were young, naive, hell-bent on helping those powerless humans. You couldn’t just stand there, watching them cry and go mad in despair when there was so much you could do for them. It was too late when you learned why they were not granted the gifts of your kind. You’re still paying for their mistakes.

Lucky for you, people these days didn’t fancy the looks of your physical prison. You’ve travelled all over the world, from one flea market to the other. Sometimes, you get picked up by a collector or someone who likes old things. They have a name for it now: ‘Vintage’. How stupid. Most of the time, though, years pass where you just lay in a drawer somewhere. Peacefully, unbothered, especially now there’s this awesome thing called Netflix! It certainly makes for much better entertainment than constantly replaying the same memories in your head. This era is truly not that bad, allowing you to sit out your sentence without any complications or devastating boredom.

See, to summon you, one has to squeeze the bulb three times, spraying the perfume in one sequence. Most people test the scent out once, decide they don’t like it, then put the bottle away for undefined periods of time until they get rid of it again. Lately, a few actually managed to do it right, but fainted when you appeared. Since your imprisonment, you’ve never actually granted any wish to those who didn’t faint. Well, not in the way they’d hoped for, at least. Not even a thousand years are enough to forget the way those humans betrayed you. It seems only fair to betray them right back.

And now? Right now, you’re meeting an old friend of yours: the dirty, dusty blanket splayed out on the ground where other old artifacts will join you. It’s flea market season again, it seems. The girl who picked up your perfume bottle at the previous one only needed a unique and old looking –sorry, vintage– thing to pose with during her boudoir photoshoot. Now she has no use for it anymore, you’re back in this familiar setting.

It’s so annoying. People pick you up and turn you around in their hands all the time. Can’t they just keep their dirty fingers off of you if they’re not gonna take you?!

“Hey! How much for that cool perfume bottle?” You hear a voice call out to the girl, sounding very chipper.

“Oh, you can just make me an offer! Any small change will do.” She responds.

Really? You’re not even worth a decent amount of money anymore? You’re a thousand years old, hello! That’s, like, antique times ten. You’re probably worth a fortune. What an Idiot.

“Hmm, then…” The boy thinks aloud, scrambling for change, “I just bought this pouch so I don’t have much left… Is this enough?”

“It’s yours!” The girl receives the change –you don’t even want to know how little it is– and another hand picks you up to take you to your new destination. You’ve lost count of the number of places you’ve been. Or rather, you’d stopped counting a long time ago.

“Ooh, there’s still perfume left!” He exclaims in excitement to no one in particular and you inwardly roll your eyes. Yeah, this one is gonna test you out for sure. Great.

Nothing really special happens after that. It doesn’t take too long to reach his home, where he places you in a bathroom cabinet before he takes a shower. He’s a good singer, though, you have to give him that. So this is it, huh? You wonder how many years you’ll spend in here before you’ll get ditched again.

To your surprise, you feel his hand curling around your bottle again. So soon? This is a first.

He sprays some perfume on his wrist and the action makes you feel all tingly and shivery. It relieves you, in a way. A natural thing that happens when someone tries to summon you.

Bringing his wrist to his nose, he takes a whiff. You expect him to be disgusted, like everyone that came before him, but he surprises you again by making a delighted kind of...noise? Oh, my god. It’s happening. He’s gonna do it.

You brace yourself, equal parts anticipating and dreading the reveal. You never know what reaction you’ll get in advance.

What you haven’t been considering, however, is your own reaction when the bulb gets squeezed three times in a row and you’re met with not a face, but something else entirely.

“OH– FUCK, NO!!” You stagger and thrash around to escape from underneath your liberator’s towel, grabbing and stealing it right off his hips.

Both of your screams are in sync when he throws himself on the bathroom floor, pointing at you like he’s seen a ghost. Well, he’s not entirely wrong in this case. Although if you could, you would personally decapitate anyone who would ever insult you by calling you a mere ghost.

“WHAAAaaaat the h-hell a-are you?!” He stammers, wide-eyed and seemingly forgetting he’s still butt-naked as you try to avoid the sight of him by covering your eyes.

“I- Here! Put this on first!” You squeak as you throw the towel back, somewhere in his general direction.

He doesn’t, though. He keeps whining and shaking, rubbing his eyes over and over again in the hope this isn’t real. “This isn’t happening! Not happening!”

“WHY WOULD YOU SPRAY PERFUME ON YOUR– YOUR–” You splutter, embarrassed beyond belief. Hey, it’s been a while, okay?!

“WHERE DID YOU COME FROM?” He yells back equally distressed. “I’M CALLING THE POLICE!”

“Let me explain, I– for fuck’s sake, please, put your penis away.” You groan, reaching for another towel hanging from the rack to throw it at his head. Thank goodness he finally gets it and wraps it around his hips again, the red sheen of embarrassment tinting his cheeks and ears.

“This is happening. Like, in real life. You’re not going insane and you’re not dreaming.” You finally feel comfortable enough to look at him and drone off the words you’ve said time and time again, in the past. Humans aren’t exactly the most intelligent creatures, so you know you have to break it down for them every single time. “I am ___, a genie. You summoned me by...spraying perfume...on your- your dick...uh...”

He looks extremely dumb, with his mouth agape and hair wet and tousled, but also kind of cute. You curse yourself to an additional century of damnation upon realising your weak spot for humans still hasn’t died down completely.

“Seriously, who does that?” You ask, genuinely curious...or concerned. Maybe both.

“I-” He starts, closing his mouth to gulp loudly, “I-I have a date later…”

You nod, still not seeing how this could be a thing. Humans remain to puzzle you. “And your name?”

“M-my name?” He pokes a finger in his chest, “It’s Hoseok.”

It’s silent for a few awkward seconds until he speaks again. “Am I really not going insane? This is… Too crazy.”

“I know, right,” You mumble, more to yourself than to him. “But I can assure you, Hoseok, you’re fine. I’m really here, in your bathroom. Traumatized, but here.”

“Was it really that bad?” he murmurs under his breath, a pout on his lips as he finally remembers how his muscles work and stands up.

“I know you must be really freaked out by suddenly summoning a genie without knowing you were, but imagine how I’m feeling right now. That’s the first thing I saw after centuries of being locked up.”

“Centuries of being locked up?” Hoseok’s brows furrow. “That’s terrible.”

You scoff. “Oh yeah? Try a whole millennium!”

Hoseok looks genuinely horrified. It makes you feel uneasy. You’ve never had this reaction before.

“That’s- wow. Who did this to you?” He asks, carefully stepping closer. You know you’re in your human form, to minimize the shock factor, but you’ve never experienced this amount of compassion from a human before. You’ve only seen them do it to each other. Not you, their magical wish machine.

Right! That’s probably why! You haven’t told him about the wishes yet.

“So, here’s the thing,” You sigh. This is your least favourite part. You know, aside from being imprisoned. “I have to grant you three wishes. There are some limitations to what I’m allowed to do, though, so. Other than those, ask and you shall receive, I guess.”

“Limitations? What kind of limitations?” He asks, looking utterly confused.

Ah shit, here we go.

You shrug. “Let’s see, I can’t make people fall in love with you, can’t bring people back from the dead, or kill anyone for you. That’s pretty much it.”

You could practically see the little gears spinning in his head and you roll your eyes, predicting one of the three will most likely be money again. Going off of his tiny apartment, at least. And the fact he barely had enough money to buy an ugly pouch and your perfume bottle. Also, people just really love money.

“So I can ask for anything, right? Anything outside of those three limitations?” The words leave his lips slowly, as if he’s heavily contemplating something.

“Yup. ‘S what I said.” You knew it. The second you’d talk about the wishes, all supposed concern about you would suddenly disappear.

“Okay!” Hoseok beams, looking like the sun itself. “How about your freedom? I can do that, right?”

“You- what?!”

You must look so incredibly stupid right now, considering the dumbfounded expression on your face, yet it doesn’t deter him in the slightest. “You said I could wish for anything except for those three things you mentioned. You never said I couldn’t wish for your freedom, so there.”

You shake your head in disbelief, “Why would– why would you do that?”

“Why wouldn’t I?” He asks, eyebrows frowned in curiosity.

“Because...Because!” You raise your voice now, heated, almost angry for a reason you couldn’t put your finger on, “It’s not how humans are wired! You’re supposed to only think about yourselves! Why aren’t you asking for money or to get revenge on someone like a normal person?!”

Hoseok scoffs. “Wow, sorry to disappoint? By the way you were talking, it sounded like you hate being confined and imprisoned. My bad for misunderstanding.”

Great, now he had you feeling bad about it. You still couldn’t process how he just went and wished for your freedom.

“Even if you’re really crazy enough to waste a wish on my freedom… Why make it your first one? You could still have two wishes left for yourself.” You counter, not knowing whether he’s just overly kind, or plain stupid. Probably the latter. “Once I’m free, I won’t be inclined to fulfill any wishes.”

He shrugs, smiling. “Because the only thing I could think about when you told me your story, was how terrified you must’ve been all this time. How awful you must feel. I know I’d go crazy in there if I were you.” He nods at the perfume bottle.

“But, still,” You murmur, unsure. He sounds so genuine, it’s getting harder to convince yourself of how he must be inherently evil, like you’ve thought all humans are up until...well, now. “I don’t understand.”

“I’m doing okay, you know?” He laughs, the sound ringing beautifully in your ears, “I got a job I enjoy. I know it doesn’t pay much, but that’s okay! I love doing what I do. I have a house that feels like a home… A dog who loves me. My family is still alive and also loves me.”

You’re not going to tear up, damn it. You’re over a thousand years old! Crying is overrated!

“Honestly, there’s just nothing I can think about that I want and don’t have already. But you wanna know something?” He asks, taking a step forward, really looking at you, “I still don’t know if maybe I ate something wrong earlier that makes me hallucinate, but even if I am… I just want to help.”

Well, so much for trying not to cry. Genies need emotional relief too. You’re having trouble looking him in the eyes while tears spilled from yours.

“You look like you’ve lost faith in humans and frankly, I can’t blame you… We’re a mess,” He chuckles, hesitantly raising his arm to take your hand in his. You let him. “But I hope, by doing this, you could let go of your anger and give yourself a chance to start over. With yourself, with us. If I’m given the opportunity to give you that freedom, I’m taking it with both hands and I hope you can forgive us. I hope you can be happy again.”

You feel like you could die, from happiness, from relief. For the longest time it’s what you wished for. One genuinely pure human makes you want to live harder than ever before, when you hear him speak the words to change your life forever.

“I wish for your freedom, ___.”

#bts fanfiction #bts scenarios #hoseok fanfiction #jung hoseok #bts #jhope #jhope scenarios #jhope fanfic #jhope drabble #hoseok drabble #genie!reader #genie!au #genie #halloween drabbles #bts halloween

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kinetic-elaboration · 4 years

Text

September 25: 1x16 The Galileo Seven

I took a half day off today and had a three hour nap in the afternoon. Now I’m feeling, I think, better?? Perhaps?

Anyway, today’s ep is The Galileo Seven, aka capitalizing on Spock’s popularity time.

Hmm, a vague and undefined phenomenon perfect for scientific study--Spock will love this. (Aka Kirk’s real reason for investigating the quasar. Just a little gift for the bf.)

Yeah Shuttlecraft Galileo! I love the shuttlecrafts; I think they’re adorable.

New Paris Colony.

The Commissioner isn’t wrong, though, like this probably isn’t the time to go on a random exploratory mission. Ah, yes, this weird space anomaly full of unknown dangers--let’s launch our most important officers right into the center of it while we have time sensitive supplies onboard. I mean come on, there’s a plague going on!

Love the shaky movements of the shuttle as it flies through space.

Hmm they’re exploring an unknown weird space thing and something goes wrong? Who could have predicted that? Other than Boma, who’s like ‘this is actually really normal though?’

Kirk’s sigh right before the credits lol.

Uhura taking over for Spock.

Those doors looked awfully, um... not metal when they opened. But I still like the design.

This is a good episode for understanding what ‘logic’ means to Spock. Like people, including people in this ep, talk about it as if it were just being emotionless and not caring about others but it’s a whole philosophy/value system and he adheres to it pretty well.

Shuttlecraft Columbus.

Kirk has such a big headache right now. He hates having someone step on his command toes.

I love this Bones and Spock conversation. “This is your chance for command.” “I am a logical man.”

Those pants really are terrible. Everyone always on about the skirts but no one ever talks shit about those horrendous pants.

Spock gets to show off his legs standing in a V like that though lol.

Philosophy 101: The Trolley Problem.

“My choice [of who to leave behind] will be a logical one.” Stop bullshitting, Spock lol. “Idk man... logic?”

Well his decision just got easier by about 1/3.

It’s Pauna! Oh wait wrong show. Thank God.

Spock is talking about how this spear looks like something Native American but lbr it looks like a Vulcan spear and he should know. He’s the bitch with the ancient weaponry hanging on the walls of his quarters.

Spock could move the body way more efficiently, I mean he’s 3x stronger than these other fools. Look at the way he throws the spear as if it were made of cardboard. Which it is definitely, definitely not lol.

That quadrant name would make a good wifi password.

The commissioner truly has NO purpose here other than to be a human clock.

I understand Spock not wanting to waste time with the ceremonial duties of command or with burying a person while he could be working to save the people who are still alive...but I don’t believe for one moment he doesn’t know elaborate funeral services. The Vulcans love their rituals.

“We have no fuel! What alternatives?” Yeah lol that is pretty bad.

“Sensitive Vulcan ears.”

He literally just said they’re not tribal, Boma, are you not listening at all?

“I’m frequently appalled by the low regard you Earthmen have for life.”

Like Kirk always says, this isn’t a democracy.

Honestly this insubordination kinda seems like xenophobia to me in that I feel like everyone thinks it’s okay to be disrespectful to Spock because he’s an alien, because their human morality and philosophy is inherently right and Spock not following it is deserving of ire, even though he’s in command.

They’re on Spock’s back when he doesn’t seem to respect life enough and when he respects life too much like he cannot win.

Our duties to other life forms.

At least the reboots got Spock’s sass right.

I feel like Spock’s logical and emotionless responses are helpful though because I would be a straight up anxious mess. It just seems so clear to me, all the places where being unemotional is allowing him to act and keep control where a scared and confused person ruled by emotions would not be. I mean they’re all Officers and it’s not like McCoy and Boma are wandering around weeping or anything but still. Not all of Spock’s decisions are right but I’d be soothed by his attitude.

“Luck may be the only tool we have that works” reminds me of “Captain, you almost make me believe in luck.”

Kirk also makes a lot of command decisions here and it’s interesting to compare his style with Spock’s.

Loving the creature design and this is not a sarcastic comment.

“Certain scientific curiosity” about whether the crewman is dead. Sure okay.

See, I was right, he can lift and carry a grown man by himself.

That spear very much hit him lol.

Spock is upset. He lost a crewman. And logic isn’t working like it’s supposed to. I love that “They should have respected us” bit. He is a little arrogant, and for someone who’s spent most of his adult life around aliens, rather set in his idea that rational responses are the only responses.

He’s really having some revelations here. I bet he can’t wait to discuss all this with Jim.

I’ve seen that shot of Scotty just shoving a wrench in the wall and making sparks fly used in memes. Out of context it is quite hilarious.

Ugh, this is such a tightly constructed narrative. Love it.

Yeah, Boma, back off. This is just crossing a line.

“You will have your burial, provided the creatures permit it.”

Poor creatures honestly. These weird aliens keep showing up and bothering them.

This Captain’s chair is pretty wide too but Kirk manages to sit in it and look cool @ cpine.

Noooo you can’t leave them behind!

Uhura posing behind the Captain’s chair and looking at the screen like google earth always taking pictures.

Lol, space normal speed. (You’d think the Commissioner would show up at this point to be like bUt ThE pLaGuE but actually we never see him again.)

Those creatures aren’t even AIMING the spears they’re literally just throwing them parallel.

“Get us off, Scott.”

“Yes.... my first command.” Oh, Spock. I love him.

Love that Scotty’s really, genuinely proud of him. Scotty’s so Unproblematic. He really is just here to do his job and he’s never mean or causing trouble of any sort.

Jim will see the flares because he loves you!!

This poor actress playing the Yeoman has nothing to do. “Oh, it’s hot!”

Really living for Kirk’s face journey as he thinks all hope is lost and then realizes they’re (mostly) okay.

I want to hear what Kirk and McCoy are saying at the beginning of the last scene. I bet they’re talking about Spock.

Everyone gently making fun of Spock but in a ‘we love you buddy way.’ And Kirk using this, their one scene together all ep, to lay on the flirting extra thick. “Mr. Spock, you’re a stubborn man” is really pushing the flirtation meter off the charts.

They’re mocking him for making an impulsive decision but he was totally right AND he was totally logical imo? Like “you reasoned that it was time for an emotional outburst” is certainly one way to put it but another way is “the only possible chance we have of being detected AT ALL is to make a big scene and if it doesn’t work we’ll just die faster than we would have anyway” which is logical, and in fact, I think someone too caught up in their emotions might hesitate to do it. I mean, I’d probably hesitate--I think the emotional response to the situation is to want to stay alive as long as possible, even if you know--logically--that the difference between living another 6 minutes and another 26 minutes is nothing. You’d be better off giving away the chance for 20 extra minutes in exchange for a better chance of not dying at all. That’s logic bitches!

Kirk sees some hope for himself here. “Oh, Spock can follow his heart??? Perhaps... to me??”

I am not a fan of these fake laughter endings. They are so overdone lol. Uhura is literally pointing and laughing in the background. It’s not THAT funny guys.

That said if Beyond had ended with some fake laughter it probably would have improved the film substantially.

And that’s it! An excellently plotted episode, really well done on the level of craft. I really get off on that kind of thing. I know a lot of shows that can write entertaining episodes/seasons/multi-season plots but don’t have any, well, real logic to them and that’s not necessarily the worst but then when you see something that’s really just well made, it... well for me it triggers a very certain satisfaction.

Also this is easily a top 3 Spock episode. Great character stuff.

Next up is the Squire of Gothos, which I think is one of the weaker S1 episodes. Not bad, just not Classic level like almost every other ep.

#star trek tos #the year 2020 #2020: fandom thoughts #2020: star trek

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elixir448 · 5 years

Note

Beth x Rio and OTP questions -- What’s the first thing that changes when they realise they have feelings for each other? and -- who says I love you first?

I am pretty sure that I am answering this wrong and maybe I’m supposed to create a written piece for the two characters but honestly the thought of writing for these two makes me cringe. I’m sure I’d be terrible at it!! So, I’m just going to answer the questions literally and hope that’s what you wanted!

Right, so. The first question is so painful because I am convinced that Beth and Rio were a little in love with each other. I know it is controversial but the more I think about season 2, the more it makes sense. In order to unpack your first question, I guess we need to have a think about when they started to have feelings for one another and then when they realised that this was the case.

Honestly, I think that these two caught feels for each other as early as season 1. Certainly, those feelings were mainly comprised of intense curiosity, desire and the fact that they both seemed aware of the electric connection between them, something that neither of them anticipated.

I mean I’m sure if you asked the collective fandom when Beth and Rio developed feelings for one another, the answers would wildly vary.

It’s evident that Rio had been thinking about Beth prior to their conversation in her van (1x05), as indicated by “what are you doing with someone like me?”. Even before then, as soon as Beth and Rio were in the same space as one another, it was like they couldn’t quite remove their focus from the other person, like they were orbiting one another. At this point, after seeing the scale of Rio’s operations, it’s clear to me that he never had to deal with the girls directly after 1x02; initially, it was about using the girls to get his product from Canada and seeing what these suburban mamas could contribute but eventually it was like he couldn’t help himself. I mean, we’ve seen how many times Rio redirects his attention back to Beth whenever Annie or Ruby say something. It seems as though he doesn’t want to look away and it really makes me wonder if, of the two, Rio was actually the first one to catch feelings? Something more than just an awareness of their charged connection.

One of the other reasons I think Rio developed feelings for Beth first is that he’s been making exceptions for Beth for a long ass time, since almost the beginning of their professional relationship. That doesn’t mean he’s not hard on her but it could have, and probably should have, been way worse. It’s not smart for a person like Rio to make exceptions; he never made any for Eddie and I think he knows that he never should have for Beth either. I think it was intrigue that drove him to listen to her and give her some leeway and then I think he was too impressed not to hear her out. Eventually though, I believe he just liked it. He liked seeing her and talking to her in cars and cafes, he enjoyed their loaded conversations and eye-fucking and I think he genuinely wanted her. Like really wanted her. To the point that he let her get away with things that no one else could, like turning him in. Honestly, I oscillate between thinking that he first became aware of his feelings for her at the end of 2x02 or maybe he was full on punched in the face by them in 2x09, after she kissed him and he just stared at her. Or maybe he knew he was f***ed when he retrieved the Dubby for her and stuffed it into her mailbox, instead of leaving it when he confirmed that Jane hadn’t been kidnapped. We saw how soft and open he was with her in 2x08 on her picnic bench. So basically, I don’t know when he realised and I love that it probably snuck up on him, past all the eye-fucks and amusement and exasperation.

So now that I’ve got that out of the way, let’s address your first question, considering Rio’s POV first. I think the first thing that changed was that he suddenly became aware of how dangerous she is to him. In season 2 and probably in the latter half of season 1, I don’t think he could have killed Beth even if he wanted to. There was no way he was going to kill her after he said “Elizabeth. Go home” in 1x09. Also, I’ve said it before but I really do think that throughout 2x02, Rio didn’t know what to do with Beth, who by all accounts was his rotten egg at that point. A rotten egg he couldn’t deal with, despite berating her for being unable to handle her own. I believe that Rio is very self-aware and knew how many exceptions he had made for her but perhaps had convinced himself that it would be worth it, because she was useful. And the thing is she was. But in the business, I think she’d also be considered more trouble than she’s worth.

Realising that he had feelings for her would force him to reckon with the fact that, even though there is a clear imbalance of power in their professional relationship, she actually wields far more power over him that even she is aware of in their undefined personal relationship. And I think as soon as he became aware of that, he was forced to regroup and evaluate what he was doing. This was pretty quickly followed by the realisation that she hadn’t killed Boomer, that she had been lying to him throughout the season despite her insistence that they were partners. I believe that was the driving force behind the “That’s what I am? Work?” scene in 2x12.

Regarding Beth’s feelings, well, she was certainly thinking about Rio early in season 1 as well, “Rio. His name’s Rio.” Annie and Ruby’s responses to that were absolutely perfect and reflective of the audience’s reactions. And come on, with the way that Rio looked at her, called her out and challenged her. There’s no way she wasn’t thinking about him. Sure, she enjoyed it when he blatantly looked her up and down but I think something inside her unravelled when he looked at her with admiration and curiosity in 1x02 (“we’re normal people”) and at the end of 1x04 (“we’re not here to try, we’re here to win bitch!”).

I think Beth has felt undervalued by a lot of the men in her life, including Dean and probably her father (the lack of any mention of him was pretty conspicuous in the 2x08 flashbacks). I think she spent most of her adult life comfortable but not happy. Not unhappy either though. That uncomfortable in-between. Initially, I think she viewed Rio as an opening into the thrill of what she had just done in 1x03, a way to make some money, but part of the thrill was him; I mean, her lies to Agent Turner’s face revolved around both of them having sex. So she definitely thought about that, probably daydreamed about it too. However, I think she also liked what she saw in herself when he looked at her. Her capabilities. And, look, I’m not saying that Beth’s self-worth is tied to Rio. It certainly is not and that would be extremely unhealthy. We’ve seen how much she disregards him lol. What I’m saying is maybe she needed that acknowledgement. Everyone does.

None of this stopped her from turning on him towards the end of season 1, when he “broke up” with her. I am convinced that she was driven by fear of what he would do yes, but mainly by anger and vindictiveness. A bit of a screw you, I don’t need you to do this (and gosh, the irony of that considering the fact that Rio says that to her in 2x06) and how can you just walk away?

We all know that Beth represses a lot, so if she had just sat down and unpacked what she was feeling, she would’ve known pretty quickly what Rio represented to her, a thrill but also a genuine connection. Then, after the bathroom scene in 2x04, her blatant avoidance of discussing it definitely says to me that it meant more to her than she was willing to acknowledge at that point. Then along comes the green-eyed monster when she saw him with Dylan. Come on Beth. Even Annie and Ruby knew that you were jealous but she couldn’t acknowledge it. Instead, she repressed and threw herself into uncovering what his new hustle was. When he returned the Dubby to her and that exhale when she pulled it out of the envelope; Gosh, I think she was confused and decided to avoid what she was feeling even more but maybe it was leaking out without her permission when she and Rio were being so gentle and light-hearted, ribbing each other on the picnic bench.

Interestingly, I’m way more certain of when Beth realised that she had feelings for Rio and that’s probably because we, as the audience, are poised to view Rio from Beth’s point of view. Any insight we get into his character is usually through her, other than his scenes with Turner in 1x01 and Gretchen in 2x03. And we follow her not just in her scenes with him but also through the other aspects of her life, whereas we usually only see Rio in scenes with her. I believe that Beth became aware of and couldn’t repress her feelings anymore when Dean presented her with a choice. Their family or Rio. When she was presented with a time stamp on their relationship, it jolted her. I think by that point, Rio and her had been through a lot and yet always ended up in the same story anyway. Like none of it mattered. Their connection wasn’t erased by any of it. So, she must have stopped thinking that anything could permanently rip them apart. Like, she turned him in and yet there they were, doing what they always do and so what if it means something more? In those moments where Beth’s sitting at the bar, knowing what she had to do, she must have been dreading it. Maybe a little of that was fear of how he might retaliate but Beth knew by that point, in her bones, that Rio would not harm her. No, that dread was because she knew how she felt now and she knew that what she was about to do was going to hurt. Strangely, acknowledging her own feelings was what spurred her to act and seek out that “one last time” with him.

On to your second question, who says I love you first? Oh lord, honestly, I can’t imagine these two every fully exposing themselves like this, not verbally anyway. The Dubby was a pretty obvious declaration of Rio’s feelings (come on, the episode was called “The Dubby”), even if he was probably pissed off while stuffing it into her mailbox. I think, in his own twisted way, presenting her with Agent Turner in 2x13 was another, more f***ed up declaration of something. I’ve thought about this a lot but I can’t even imagine Beth and Rio hugging. Like, it blows my mind to even think about it. Part of the reason is that they are not there yet. They didn’t trust each other, not even before Beth shot him. Telling the other person they love them would expose them in ways that I don’t think either of them can stomach yet. I think it would make itself known in other ways and, hell, it already kind of has with the way they looked at each other in 2x09 before going to Beth’s house. Also, I think the music (Love and War by Fleurie) was an excellent choice for the final scene of the season 2 finale and it was also very telling of what these two represent to one another.

I low-key think that in season 3 or 4, Beth may end up making a declaration of her own, through her actions, of how she feels about Rio. Like saving his life or refusing to flip on him or protecting him in her own way. Her equivalent of the Dubby. And honestly, I will be living!

What I’m trying to say is that Beth and Rio are definitely those two that everyone would eventually know are in love but they would struggle to say it to each other, even if they knew it. If it did happen, I kind of think Beth would be the one to say it. The show is called Good Girls and it’s about our three gals. Beth left her pearls for Rio, lifted up her dress for him and crossed the distance between them to kiss him first. So, in keeping with that theme, it makes sense that she would be the one to say it.

That being said, I can vaguely see both of them saying it. But in a resigned way. This is killing me. You could kill me. I know. I’m tired. I love you.

Like, all those thoughts and emotions swirling together, until it it just came out, leaden with exhaustion.

Anyway, that’s that. I am so sorry that it took me so long to answer this ask but I got ridiculously insecure with my answer and then realised that I had actually written that everyone will have different opinions, so I thought screw it. I’d really love to hear other peoples’ thoughts! Also, feel free to send in asks (they’ll defos be as rambly as this one, sorry)!

Btw, this is pretty irrelevant but can you imagine if we get to see scenes of Rio in the next season, thinking about her when she’s not there (maybe with the pearls)? Followed by Beth thinking about him? Probs won’t happen but I can dream.

#nbc good girls #yes i was listening to shameless (sofia karlberg cover) while writing this #don't look at this #i'm a mess over these two #beth x rio #sorry this is so long #it probs makes no sense anymore #why did you not finish your case discussion?#i wrote 3 pages of beth x rio analysis #soz

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ivebeenmade · 4 years

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Fandom Discourse On Twitter. Rant. Trigger warnings galore. Mr. Robot Big Reveal & What You Shouldn’t Be Doing With It

Elliot Alderson’s sexuality is undefined canonically.

**_ If you disagree, scroll on by.

_**

I’m still fuming about seeing a fuckton of tweets saying of course he was put off by Tyrell saying he loves him, or please shut up about your ship, show some respect for Elliot who was molested by his father. he couldn’t be with Tyrell I am not condoning that bullshit and I can’t believe I saw it. about 20 different users chimed in before I lost my mind. ‘non-shippers’, other ships, even a couple Tyrelliot fans now think it’s clearly unhealthy and obviously never mutually hinted at in the last 3 seasons.

This is solely, unreasonably based on the fact that Elliot was molested by a man. His father was outwardly caring and supportive of him. A parent is the last person that should pose the threat of sexual violence. Elliot’s reaction to the big reveal was by far the most gut wrenching scene so far on the show. And it made sense to a bunch of fans who, if you’re like me, were sort of fond of Edward. The seasons of lead up to that revelation were perfectly coordinated draw us in so we’d feel that with the narrator of the series. Fucking ouch.

We don’t know if the abuse was aggressive, or (delusionally) doting and patient- as saw his dad act in Edward’s first few scenes.

However it was done, for however long it went on, that can certainly warp a victim’s expectations for consensual encounters in the future, as well as damage confidence and self worth.

It DOES NOT define or change one’s orientation...I know I can’t tell a bunch of jackasses in 140 characters that if Elliot was in fact bisexual and interested, he might eventually get into a relationship with another man.

Since Tyrell’s character was the main focus of the threads I read, I’ll just say there’s plenty of reasons to not reciprocate someone’s affections- ‘scared straight’ isn’t on that list. At least it shouldn’t be, and definitely not the first and only message these idiots ought to take from Elliot’s childhood turning out to be even more horrible than we knew.

I don’t know how so many humans got this as twisted as they did, but never should childhood trauma be used as a platform. Not even to shame fandom or canon ships. If he is bi and just scared to have sex with men...that’d be the kind of psychological snare that'll never improve without therapy...even if he never ‘falls’ for a dude, you can’t leave that shit there. He can’t just leave that behind him if he meets a nice girl. Trauma doesn’t fade away by avoiding it.

They’re seriously on that hellsite complimenting Esmail for killing Wellick so that Elliot wouldn’t have to work around a male admirer. If Tyrell were creepy & pushy I’d want him to step away too, and before someone comes after me I’m including the Elleon ship (only other m/m ship in the fandom I know of) to reiterate sexual abuse does not change the shit that is inherently you, like romantic preferences- which have never been explicitly stated in Elliot’s case.

If this doesn’t make enough sense, that’s how pissed I am. Never have I thought so little of a fanbase or a social media platform. I can’t even.

#mr. robot spoilers #mr. robot season 4 #elliot alderson #trigger warnings #tw: child molestation

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alexandrasavior · 4 years

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Alexandra Savior is here to pierce us all by way of melancholy as The Archer aims right for the heart

Tinged with Arctic Monkeys’ flair in spades, Alexandra Savior’s sophomore follow up to 2017’s Belladonna of Sadness, co-written with Alex Turner, is an homage to the heartbroken everywhere. And while one would think that Turner’s sound would be all over her debut, in retrospect, Belladonna of Sadness lacks his distinctive mark. Instead, it seems to appear more prominently on the new record, The Archer (a title Taylor Swift does not have the monopoly on). And just as Belladonna of Sadness was written two years before it finally came out, so, too, has The Archer long been in the works, with Savior commencing the title track in 2016.

Commenting on the notion that, during that period, in something of a Lana Del Rey parallel, she had reconciled with surrendering to the idea that she wouldn’t make music anymore, at least not at the “fame level” (just as Del Rey had bowed to while writing “Video Games”), Savior stated, “I was living with my mum and going to community college and thought that I was never going to make another record again. I was dropped [by the label] about a year after the first [album] came out. I wrote the song ‘The Archer’ on Christmas 2016.” So it was that the crux of the record was born. One that starts with the fittingly surreal and melancholic “Soft Currents.” The simple lyrics lament, “Seven years, I’ve had seven years of bad luck/And I’m just fine/Happiness I find happiness in the wrong places/Every time.” Even if that’s the case, in either her professional or personal life (more especially intertwined when one is a musician), she has ostensibly learned with time that, “My fate is at the hands of my mistakes/And that’s alright.” The ambient gloom of this acceptance segues effortlessly into “Saving Grace.”

Psychedelic to its core and filled with sweeping, overpowering guitar riffs, “Saving Grace” takes a page from 2013’s AM, on which Arctic Monkeys reached the zenith of their guitar usage, perhaps inevitably leading to the subsequent piano-favoring Tranquility Base Hotel & Casino. With lyrics that serve as a means to paint so-called Saving Grace as some sort of cruel drag queen dangling the potential for salvation before ripping it away, Savior sings, “Saving grace/Come here to petrify me/She’s not an angel, my dear/She is a beast.” In other words, do not trust her, she is a fugly slut.

And don’t trust the security of relationships for that matter, either, Savior soon apprehended after being dropped by her first label, Columbia Records. Of the “breakup,” Savior remarked, “…so a lot of the songs that I was writing before I got dropped, I was intentionally trying to impress this label that I wasn’t really suited for. When I had that freedom, it felt like I’d write the songs and they would just go into the abyss because there was nobody for me to send them to and and nobody was listening at all. But then I think that’s probably what made them a lot more personal than my last record.” So it was that she had a sort of Lady Gaga in “Marry the Night” experience, which occurred right around the same time as a romantic breakup that led to the creation of “Crying All the Time” on New Year’s Day, 2018. The moody, Sam Cohen-produced backbeat paired with the lament, “My death, it taunts me like a ship/Without a sail I know I’ll be gone soon/But just for him, I will prevail,” smacks, indeed, of a Del Rey/Turner lovechild, further compounded by the irony, “He doesn’t like it when I cry/And now he’s gone, so I’m crying all the time.”

The sultry overtone of the appropriately mating call-esque “Howl” solidifies the jilted lover theme of the record, as well as Savior’s adeptness at making spartan lyrics feel varied, with the only non-repeated verse of the song being, “Handsome dictator of my crimes/I can’t tell if they’re yours, I can’t tell if they’re mine/Sweet revelation bitter wine/I’m dreaming, but mostly I’m feeling behind.” With the fine line blurred between whether or not she’s responsible for her actions or the toxic love manipulating them is irrelevant after a certain point, and Savior must admit, “It’s a little dangerous when you come treading by me.” And yet how could we, as her listeners, not with a record like this”

The midpoint of The Archer, “Send Her Back,” persists with the laconic lyrics, the chorus, “Why don’t you send her back where she came from?” being easily applicable to both a mother after birthing her child or a boyfriend after rejecting his girlfriend of so many years. Whatever your particular interpretation as a result of your own personal situation, “Send Her Back” certainly inflicts some deep-seated feels. Of the kind that her unwitting mentor, Alex Turner, also knows too well about–not to mention how to evoke within his own listeners. As for the comparisons to their styles, let’s just say, “Can’t Help Myself,” which happens to be the sixth track on the album, opening with the sound of ambient waves washing ashore (likely a common sound when one is from the same Pacific Northwest milieu as Savior). More tinged with sardonic 60s girl group flair than some of the others, the song bears an additional tonal resemblance to the 60s stylings of Del Rey on “Radio” (as when she sings, “Now my life is sweet like cinnamon…/My body’s sweet like sugar venom, oh yeah”) and Arctic Monkeys on “Black Treacle.” Savior, in fatalistic turn, expresses, “Light dims as he walks my way/I’ve been running for a reason I could never retain/Sweet lips like pink lemonade/When he’s feeling generous he’s gonna give me a taste/’Cause nothing else can satisfy me/Oh, oh, I can’t help myself/Something comes over me, baby/Whenever you are around.”

Such a sentiment transitions seamlessly into a song title like “The Phantom,” all rife with the connotations of being haunted by the object of one’s affection. Discussing the common phenomenon in unrequited love that essentially finds one person being more of an erotomaniac than the other (e.g. “I fell in love alone”), Savior reconciles the cult-like tendencies of the one she truly believed could love her as much in return, describing with the poetic turn of phrase we’ve come to expect by now, “Fell in love as a lone disciple/His altar at the root of my fate/Fell in love on a lonely night/Could predict every word he’d never convey.”

More languorous in rhythm than the others, “Bad Disease” is peak “creepin’ on you” vibes mixed with Arctic Monkeys’ verbiage. Again imbuing her lover with cult leader status, Savior offers up the sort of images one would expect from a The Shangri-Las, The Marvelettes or The Ronettes song (and then, of course, there are shades of Del Rey’s “Shades of Cool”), boasting, “Pandemonium quivers at his touch/My preacher, my undefined creature/Consumes me.” But who cares so long as that “bad disease” she’s referring to only involves a metaphorical burning in one’s loins?

The uber groovy “But You” is Savior at her most evocative in terms of making the listener fathom her extreme loneliness in the absence of the one she loves (or loved). The best way to conjure this picture is, naturally, with a mattress. More to the point, “the wilted edge of a lonesome mattress” where once her boyfriend used to lay. No more, alas. And the one person who can heal the pain of this wound is the one person who isn’t around to do so. Oh how cruel irony can be in matters of love and all the agony it wreaks (also causing one’s own body to reek from the depression side effect of not washing on the reg).

The denouement that is “The Archer” is as meandering and dreamy as the video itself, featuring Savior roaming aimlessly along the coastline (of Port Townsend, Washington) near a lighthouse that seems useless to her. Not just because it’s the daytime, but because, from a navigational standpoint, there is nowhere she needs to be anymore now that she’s lost the port in the storm that she thought was her true love, the one who “bit [her] head right off with [his] tiny little mouth,” prompting her to “lick the blood from [his] lips.” Indeed, Savior admitted that after some reflection, “At the time, my perception was that I was writing a song about how it feels to love someone, but now when I listen back to ‘The Archer,’ I realize that I was writing an observation of a psychologically unhealthy relationship, from the perspective of someone who is unconsciously aware that she is being emotionally mistreated.” Maybe, in the end, however, if The Archer is any indication, music is both emblematic of the lighthouse and her home. Regardless of living in any (last) shadow (puppet) of certain parties that have worked with her before. Savior is very much her own musician, even if also an amalgam of so many kinds of infinite sadness as previously conveyed by some of her more obviously influencing forebears.

#took this writer a while to get to the point that alexandra is her own artist after so many comparisons to am and lana lmao #alexandra savior #the archer #review #culled culture #2020 #*

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legobiwan · 5 years

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Whumptober #4 (human shield)

TW: child death, somewhat grisly descriptors, hurt/no comfort, I’M SORRY

Fandom: Good Omens (Crowley, Aziraphale, Hastur)

Notes: uhhhh, I’m totally intimidated to try out writing in the Gomens fandom but here we are. Angst, as always. Lightly edited because I’m trying to let go and I don’t got no time for that. Yes, I’m a day behind on these and that will likely be the case until next weekend SORRY GUYS.

-----

“So let me get this straight. Hell - “ Crowley peered over the rim of his sunglasses. “And we are talking about the same Hell, right? Bad plumbing, worse health plan, bunch of ugly faces - “

Hastur scowled in Crowley’s direction, the frog perched on his head mirroring the expression.

“Present company excluded, of course,” Crowley swallowed, smothering the lie with a wide, toothy smile. Wouldn’t do to piss off Hastur this early in the morning. “But, I mean, it’s a bit odd, don’t you think? Hell wants me to tempt some tin-pot dictator into releasing a bunch of kids from imprisonment?”

Not that Crowley would mind. (And not that he would ever admit that to anyone, except maybe the angel.) The kids didn’t deserve it, were being used as pawns (or worse) by the latest in an ever-revolving door of loathsome excuses of humanity looking to get their kicks. So no, he’d be more than happy to let the kids go.

But it was weird and Hell didn’t do weird.

It was a trap, it had to be, the way Hastur was doing that thing where he curved his lips upward just enough to be creepy. The man in question, Crowley didn’t bother with his name, already had one-way ticket stamped to downstairs, so why throw this wrench into things?

Crowley shrugged, trying to exude indifference. In another thirty minutes, the sun would rise, speeding to its overhead post where it broiled every living thing in this dusty, sand-ridden part of the world.

“Seems like a waste of effort, if you ask me.”

“Well then it’s a good I didn’t,” Hastur growled, surly as ever. “Unless you’re not demon enough for the job.”

Nice one, Hastur. Crowley rolled his eyes behind his glasses. Not.

“I’m more than demon, enough, Duke Hastur. Come on!” Crowley spread his arms wide in dramatic fashion, something he know Hastur hated. “I am damn well - damn bad - ugh, you know what I mean. Ask Dagon, they’ve got my personnel file. Long list of commendations.”

Crowley, against all instinct and good taste, leaned towards Hastur, waggling his eyebrows. “Bet mine’s bigger than yours. Wanna compare?”

A sharp shove sent Crowley hurtling away from Hastur’s none-too-aromatic personal space.

“Just get it done, Crawly.”

——-

There had been no way to finesse this one, no loophole Crowley could find to finagle his way out actually doing what he was told. But what was the harm, really? He was freeing kids from the grasp of some power-hungry asshole with a vendetta and laundry list of psychological issues. It was probably the best assignment Hell had given him in centuries, one he might not even mind taking credit for.

With little else to do, he traveled to the makeshift headquarters of the revolutionary leader. Sidled up to him, whispered in his ear. Told him the kids had a better purpose. (They did. To be kids. Alive kids.) Told him to let them go, that they would prosper under a far better sun, that the ruler would reap benefits he couldn’t possibly imagine if he just let them go. The squat man thought about it, brushing his beard with his hand, legs splayed out from his would-be throne. And then he smiled, blade-like, a kind of look that made Crowley uneasy, even though he was a demon.

“I think I will take your advice, young man.”

Crowley bid a hasty retreat from the compound.

The seed had been planted. He did what he was supposed to, Hell would be placated, and the children would be safe.

Almost too easy…

So easy, in fact, it shouldn’t have surprised him when Hastur showed up at tavern. Four wines in, Crowley’s features had softened, his head spinning with thoughts of a certain blonde-haired angel back in London.

Hastur clapped him on the shoulder, taking a seat on the wooden bench.

“Didn’t think you had it in you, Crawly.”

Crowley recoiled, picking Hastur’s hand off his shoulder as he would a soggy, used tissue.

“What, tempting a stupid dictator?” The wine allowed him to be brave, to ignore the fact that demons don’t touch, unless it’s to inflict pain. “Could do it in my sleep, Hastur.”

Of course, Hastur did that thing with his mouth again, the same aborted attempt of a smile from the other day. Worse yet, the Duke of Hell brought his hand back Crowley’s shoulder, this time digging his torn fingernails past fabric, into his actual muscle in a way that would leave a mortal without an arm.

“Demons don’t sleep.”

Crowley didn’t yelp when Hastur tightened his fingers further, but it was a near thing.

“Figure of speech,” he hissed.

Hastur, for his part, regarded Crowley as he would an animal in a lab experiment, coal-black eyes trained on the other demon’s expression as he used no small amount of his powers to all but press his fingers past skin, into the actual sinews of Crowley’s shoulder.

And then, all at once, he let go, crossing his arms over his chest.

Fucker, Crowley spat.

“You haven’t read the papers, then?”

And there it was, the other shoe dropping, plummeting, really, Crowley’s gut along with it. It was a rhetorical question - not that Hastur would know what that even meant - filled with gleeful, malicious anticipation.

Crowley managed to squeak out a somewhat breathless “no.”

“I mean,” he added, willing himself not to stutter, “I had…other thingsss to do.”

Hasted shoved a crumpled newspaper in his face.

Crowley’s eyes were sulfur-colored, a permanent mark of Hell’s claim on his soul. It was often assumed Crowley’s eyes belied his original serpent form, a testament to his role in the creation of Original Sin.

This assumption would be correct.

Partially.

Sulfur is a funny thing, though. Normally found as a solid, when burned at a high enough temperature, it melts to a blood-red liquid emitting a blue flame.

Crowley’s eyes are weeping crimson, glowing with a pure azure matched only by the Angels above.

In a single, furious movement, Crowley stormed from the tavern, Hastur cackling in his wake.

——

(Soho, London)

“…had reported the use of children as human shields in the latest violence between the two sides. Investigators say the children, ranging in age from 6 to 15, had been taken as prisoners during last week’s attack on the capital city. This had been seen by experts as the first step in a widening strategy to destabilize the region, courting further retaliation with no end in sight.

With the surprise execution of the leader and his closest circle of advisors, the fate of the region seems to be in question. NATO soldiers reported a gruesome scene in the capital city, bodies cleaved partially in two, eviscerated corpses hanging from their feet in the public square.

To date, no group has come forward to claim responsibility for the sudden execution of the splinter group leadership…”

Aziraphale’s brow furrowed with each paragraph, every new description of the horrors of the article punctuated by a sharp intake of breath, a small “oh my.”

A terrible picture, one he knew had been sanitized for publication.

Humming absently, Aziraphale set the newspaper on his lap and closed his eyes, casting his metaphysical sight - hundred of eyes watching just beyond the threshold of this world and other-world, peering past the walls of his shop, pupils, cornea, irises (as much as Aziraphale’s true form had eyes that resembled the human eye.)

Aziraphale’s real eyes were golden, solid, yet malleable, able to travel through the smallest pinholes between dimensions. His gaze, his true gaze flew, from England to France, burrowing through middle Europe, sprinting through Turkey, landing on a dusty plain in a forgotten part of the world.

He steps into the dusty amphitheater, bodies still hanging from their toes, sawed partially in half from their…oh dear. Most of the corpses have had their inner organs ripped from their body cavity, seemingly by hand, red staining the sand beneath their lifeless bodies. As for the organs, it’s…it’s, well a right mess, parts where they shouldn’t be, used as rope, stuffed into pockets, or in the case of one, shoved into his mouth.

While Aziraphale can’t quite make himself feel sorry for the men - they had set their own fate far before this unfortunate event - the presence of demonic rage, the pure, unfettered evil of the other side is undeniable, even with Aziraphale projecting himself from thousands of kilometers away. While oft times humans needed little provocation from Below to commit the most heinous of acts, this one had certainly been helped along by some foul agent of Hell, one so corrupted they would desecrate human lives - even these humans, in such a way.

There’s a knock on the door. It’s muffled and Aziraphale feels it more as a metaphor than reality, but he draws inwards, leaving behind the dusty, bloodshed streets, soaring above continental Europe, a comet, a shooting star. He feels the wishes of the humans, the ones who wake late, who watch the cosmos, yearning for the undefinable, for the ineffable, for a bit of hope to be found in an old mythology. He blesses them on his return to Soho, needing this small bit of Grace, this bolster, before confronting the presence he now realizes is committed to tearing down his antique front door.

A presence that was entirely demonic, and entirely familiar.

“AAAAAAANGEEEEEELL!”

Oh good lord.

The knocking escalated, a series of thick, violent thuds as the entire room shuddered with Crowley’s exertion. It seemed the demon had forgotten he could overcome the simple hurdle of a door with a simple snap of fingers.

Knowing he would be in for a long night, Aziraphale polished off the glass of wine sitting on his table in a single gulp, steeling himself for an armful of drunken, distraught demon.

(If he was lucky, it wouldn’t be as bad as the 14th century. To date, nothing had been quite as bad as the epic bender of 1378.)

“A-zi-ra-PHAAAAALE!”

Pulling one last time at his waistcoat, straightening his bowtie, Aziraphale headed to the front door. (And if that was not an act of faith, nothing else was. He knew full well his meticulous clothing would be rumpled, pulled at and thrown askew within minutes of allowing the demon inside.)

“ZIIIRRRAAAAAA!”

He should leave Crowley out there, as a lesson. The caterwauling really was getting to be a bit too much, and Aziraphale could’t imagine what had gotten Crowley into this state to begin with.

“Come on out, Angel! Smite the Evil One! Or have you grown soft?”

Perhaps this would be as bad as 1378.

Casting a glance upwards for strength (or something. He wasn’t certain Heaven would be all that thrilled to be called on in aid of a demon), Aziraphale huffed out the last of his annoyance, opening the front door with a singular flourish, plastering on his best angelic look of Unending Patience.

“It’s about damn time, Angel. Let me in, gotta do this prop - prop - the right way.”

Crowley was - there was no other word - a disaster, black shirt halfway unbuttoned, vest hanging off one arm, bottle held between his long fingers. The red stains under his fingernails didn’t go unnoticed by the angel, nor did the brown, viscous smudge of something he’d rather not identify smeared across his right cheek.

“Crowley, what happened? What the Hell is going on?” Aziraphale snapped.

So much for Unending Patience. The demon stared at him, uncomprehending, before tilting his head back with a maniacal, desperate cackle.

“That’s a good one, angel. In fact, Hell is exactly what is going on. Right here, in your bookshop.” Crowley popped the p, weaving inside the front room. “A real demon? Can you believe it?”

The door shut with a wave of Aziraphale’s hand.

“Yes, you are a demon,” Aziraphale began carefully, knowing the topic was dangerous ground even during the best of times. “I believe we ascertained that fact quite some time ago.”

Crowley leered at the books piled haphazardly on the front table. After a moment of contemplation, Crowley pushed at the stack with a single finger, sending the masterworks toppling to the ground.

“Crowley!”

The demon responded with a withering look from above the rims of his sunglasses.

“A real demon, angel. Come on, I know you lost that sword at the start, but you’ve got to have something else, right?” Crowley threw his hands out to the side, sending the bottle crashing to the floor, breaking into a million pieces. He eyed Aziraphale expectantly.

The angel gaped, twisting his hands together in front of his stomach. “What, you come crashing in here at who-knows-what time of the night, destroying my property, making a mess, demanding that I - that I - “

Aziraphale stomped his foot. Not what one would call appropriate behavior for one of the Heavenly Host, but they had never had to deal with a drunk, self-destructive demon on their doorstep at three in the morning.

“Crowley…no! Sober up and sit the fu - just sit down.”

“Nah, don’t feel like it.” Crowley swayed towards the red leather armchair Aziraphale had so peacefully been occupying not minutes before.

“Really, I must insist.” Aziraphale went to take the demon by the shoulders, stopping halfway. It would only escalate matters, Aziraphale making any kind of physical contact with the demon, the way he was itching for a fight, trying to provoke Aziraphale.

Crowley’s gaze flitted about the room, perhaps calculating where he could cause the most amount of chaos, before landing on the newspaper Aziraphale had left open on the table. Crowley lurched, grabbing the periodical, waving it like a revolutionary on the front lines.

“Did you read about this one, angel?”

“Dreadful, I know.” Aziraphale shuffled closer to the demon, skeptical as to where the conversation was going.

“That’s the work of a real demon. Pure Evil, capital E.”

“Yes, I imagine so. And I’m glad you were nowhere near that scene, Crowley."

Crowley laughed. It was a terrible empty sound, a nothing that somehow echoed throughout the bookshop, a heavy void, as if the gates of Pandemonium itself had opened on Earth. In that moment, something truly demonic, truly evil had invaded Aziraphale’s Earthly sanctum.

Instinct kicked in, the air crackling around Aziraphale’s form, which had begun to shed its corporeal skin, the tell-tale tang of ozone a warning, much in the way a a snake rears upwards, or a canine bares its teeth.

“That’s the stuff, Angel, come on!” Crowley taunted, shouting above the growing din of righteousness.

Aziaphale froze, aghast. Crowley was square to him, having pulled his shirt open, bare chest exposed, long scars criss-crossing his abdomen and where had those even come from?

Aziraphale backed away, shaking.

“Crowley, I’m sor - I didn’t - I mean - “

But the demon advanced, shedding a bit of his own corporeality, red scales manifesting down his arms, broken halo rising from his red hair. The room darkened, turning oppressive, clautroophoic and sweat beaded on Aziraphale’s forehead despite it being the middle of February in London.

“Come. On. Angel.” Crowley took a menacing step forward, his arms open to the side, head thrown back, neck exposed, chest thrust forward. The demon was panting, bony chest flush, heaving.

“Crowley.” Aziraphale’s voice cracked. He swallowed over the lump of anxiety in his throat, mustering his inner strength. “Crowley, please stop this at once. I am not going to smite you.”

Crowley met his gaze, mask slipping, eyes round and red-rimmed.

And then Aziraphale was slammed against a bookcase, long, sharp fingers gripping at the lapels of his jacket. Crowley’s sharp teeth snapped near his lips, yellow eyes boring into Aziraphale.

Never had his friend looked so…demonic.

“You sssshould, Principality Aziraphale, Angel of the Eassstern Gate,” Crowley growled like a wild creature.

Never before had Aziraphale actually feared Crowley.

“I think you should go.”

Crowley glared, rearing at the polite, reserved request. Something shifted in his face. Azirphale felt the grip loosening on his jacket, cool air whisking into the space between angel and demon. Crowley made a dissatisfied grunt, lightly shoving Aziraphle back for good measure, stuffing his hands into his pockets.

“You should have done it, Angel. It’s what I deserve.” Crowley nodded towards the paper. Aziraphale felt the sudden urge to vomit.

There was no - he couldn’t have, not Crowley. He must have been coerced, or blackmailed, or -

“No mistake, angel. All me.”

And Crowley stared at the ground, silently begging for his punishment, for what he’s due and Aziraphale just couldn’t wrap his head around that fact that Crowley, of all beings -

“Please leave, Crowley.”

The demon jerked his head up, just long enough for the flash of hurt to illuminate all over his face.

“Yeah. Good. I’ll just, uh. Right. See you in a couple hundred years.”

Crowley stepped out the door, barely making a sound.

Azirpahale slithered to the floor, back still to the bookcase. He summoned a bottle of wine, not bothering with a glass, not even bothering to look at the vintage. The dreadful photo of the execution site stared back at him. With a snarl, Aziraphale waved the paper away, sending the offending item into the ether, where it was ripped into atoms.

He drank late into the night, until the rose-colored fingers of dawn peeked above the horizon, thinking of nothing at all.

legobiwan does whumptober

#writing #whumptober #whumptober 4 #good omens #good omens spam #aziraphale #crowley #hastur #WHAT IS THIS #oh lord #i #look i just want to explore crowley's relationship to hell and just how demonic he gets #because angst #YA KNOW #anyway #I'M GOING TO BE GOOD NIGHT TUMBLR I'LL SEND YOU MORE HIKING PICS LATER TOMORROW #(can't wait for the gomens merch to be available so crowley can join the hiking gang)

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heechulhamster · 5 years

Text

Remnants - Kim Jongdae

KIM JONGDAE x Reader

Genre: Angst, College!AU, Mature!AU

Warnings: Implied sex

4,068 words.

Synopsis: He was the one you tried to forget. His memories were the one you tried to bury, burn, and leave. Just exactly as he did to you. But seven years after, the ghost of your past was now standing in front of you. Breathing the same air, and existing in the same space as you do.

He wasn't supposed to be here. He was supposed to live in the fragments of your memory you tried so hard to discard, burn, disintegrate. Yet he was here, existing in the same space as you, breathing the same air as you do, and unabashedly staring at you as if all other things are invisible. The set of eyes that were set on you stirred an overwhelming mix of emotions in your body.

"I am certain that you two would work well together on this project." Your client expressed with a wide smile, evident of hope and enthusiasm.

You tried hard to reciprocate the positivity he exuded. "We'll work hard to achieve your desired outcome, Sir." Your hand reached to the client in an assuring handshake. He then turned to him, and did the same. That's when your eyes met again, a surge of memories came back in your mind. You tried hard to shrugged it off, the bliss of immaturity, the wonderful firsts, the pain when he all too suddenly left.

The client left and you were quick to re-organize your portfolio that laid on the table. Not wanting to spend more time with the man in front of you.

"It's been so long. When did I last see you, seven years ago?" You looked up to him, seeing a sly smile on his face.

"Yep." You simply answered.

"You've changed a lot, really. I almost didn't recognize you."

"Yeah, five years is a lot of time Mr. Kim." A smile crept up in your face, but not one of comfort nor happiness. One that's a mere show of professionalism, or just a facade to hide how affected you really were.

"Mr. Kim? Aren't we far from formalities now?" His eyebrow raised, his features sure did improve a lot. His far more chiseled, structures more defined, his shoulders even broadened - almost the same as before but noticeably better.

"We have a lot of time for catching up while this project runs, Jongdae. I really need to go." You smiled with pursed lips and you were quick on your heels.

You hated how affected you still were. It's five years, it's been a half of a decade. Yet the pain he left was still there, among the butterflies that crept in your stomach when he smiled. It's still in your head like a video that can be played back over and over.

You were in second year of college, a handful of excitement still present in your system. It was your dream university and program after all. It wasn't hard for you to adjust in the new environment, knowing you prepared for it your whole life. You just felt that it was right, you in the city, studying Architecture, and that was it - all that you could ask for.

Then there was this one particular day, the weather seemed overcast and it was a good time to hang by the front of one of the best buildings in the university. The right amount of sunshine mixed with the green shade of spring made a wonderful sight to your eyes. You admired its neoclassical style, grabbed the drawing pad in your bag, and started sketching. Art was your passion, but there's always the insatiable room for improvement. Half an hour passed unnoticeably and you were awakened to your senses by a voice coming from beside you.

"A 2B would really work better on that shading. Would give it more dimension." You looked beside you, a man was suddenly seated on the free space and was looking (or judging) your work.

"I don't have one. It's just a random sketch anyways." You sighed.

He scuffled through his bag from where he retrieved a pencil of the exact shade he told you. "Lucky for you I have one here."

A smile full of subtle charm emerged on his lips, and you were sure you felt a sudden flush on your cheeks. You took the pencil with a smile and used it on the shading.

"Fine arts?" He asked you.

You shaked your head, not looking away from your work. "Architecture."

"Oh, our majors are closer than I have thought." You looked at him. He reached out a hand, "Jongdae, Civil Engineering." You took it with a smile and a steady babble of talk and laughter followed soon after.

It took off from there, from casual coffee dates, to just hanging out around the university, to being of constant prescence in each other's daily routines. He was a batch ahead of you so he showed you around the life of a typical student of the University. And it was such a shift from your cyclical life. Jongdae introduced you to his group of friends, which soon became yours too. Baekhyun and Minseok were such a delight to be with for you, one for the laughs, and the other seemed to always watch over you.

It seemed as if everything was in the right place, at the right time. When he held your hand, when you touch, when you whisper sweet nothings in the afterglow, it all seemed too perfect. But it was undefined. As much of a couple you two seemed to be, no one really confirmed what you guys were. It seemed to work that way, no one questioned it- not even you. No one really asked if you guys were official because it just seemed like it. And the two of you? Well you were pretty sure that the mutual exchange of affections and i love you's were assurance enough. But it was still pretty bleak. You didn't know if you had the right to be jealous, or demand time, or even ask anything from Jongdae. So when the time came that it all suddenly faded, you were left to wonder what happened. What went wrong? Was it all a work of fiction in your mind?

It was vague to you how after a summer break, you and Jongdae lost contact. You were inseperable for one and a half year and it was all gone with the wind. Messages went dry over the break, he was suddenly either too busy or somewhere else. And when school came back, you didn't even know how to approach him anymore. He was suddenly a stranger that you longed for. You came across each other and only a nod was shared, even if you want to ask him why. Why did he cut you out all too sudden? Was there ever gonna be an explanation?

Turns out, you never got the explanation you wanted. You never heard the reason why he acted as if nothing ever happened. His graduation came, and not a single word was heard from Jongdae. As if the months you shared was all but a work of your silly mind.

But you couldn't complain. What were you two anyway? You slept together, shared endearments, worked together, but was there even any confirmation? None. You didn't have any label. And somehow you figured, maybe it was nothing. Maybe it wasn't important to him, he had his fun, and now he's done. But it certainly wasn't just that to you.

That same night after meeting the ghost of your past, you found yourself indulging in a bottle of wine, or whiskey, whatever your hand reached in your pantry. It felt fucked up, how you still remember every damn detail he forgot with ease. How Jongdae's dumb smile still stirs a juvenile feeling within you. How you still want to cry, and cry you did.

You started to convince yourself that it was all just a product of being shocked in the situation. Who wouldn't be? That person who just left you seven years ago just appeared in your latest work project. What do you expect to feel? But it wasn't easy, Jongdae didn't make it easy for you too.

"These columns would really look good in terms of aesthetic but I'm more concerned regarding the structural integrity. It's a risk." He said, pointing to a certain part in your blueprint.

"Mr. Seo specified that he wanted that, and when was a column ever a concern for structural integrity?" You replied, still focusing on the blueprint laid in front of you.

He looked at you in curiosity. "Yeah, I figured that out. I forgot that I used to study Building Design with you." Jongdae let out a small chuckle.

"I made all your reviewers then, Jongdae how could I forget the concepts." You unexpectedly reminisced. He stared at you in silence, as if really looking back or pondering on what you just said.

"And besides, you tend to forget a lot of things." You rolled the blueprint and walked towards the coffee machine. You are in his office, his firm, as you were the architect that was sourced out of the company Jongdae worked from. No one from them focuses on modern architecture, one that you've been mastering on the past few years. So Mr. Seo wanted you for the job.

"Well, I most certainly did not forget about how we used to do this." He said withh a smile on his face, leaning back against his office chair. Your face scrunched in confusion.

"This is the first time we worked together, Jongdae." You chuckled a little, giving him a hint of how delusional he sounded.

"Our kitchen should have one large island on the middle so it wouldn't be hard to cook. It should be granite, I like that better than marble." He mimicked the way you speak as he walked towards you. "And ofcourse I agreed. As I said, you'll be in charge of the aesthetics. Your dream italianate house, then I'll be the one to sign as an engineer." You rolled your eyes on how he had his teasing face on.

You laid your head on his chest while your hands played with his. Jongdae and his habit of humming random songs in your hair as you traced random musings on his chest. Beads of sweat just starting to fade, breathing slowly returning to normal state, and you just let your ears take in his voice and the sound of his heart.

"This is something I could totally get used to." He said while brushing your hair with his fingers.

"Really?" You lazily answered.

"Think about what our future home could be like." Jongdae's strong hands landed firmly on your cheeks.

"Italianate, just right with a cozy feeling. Something that feels like a lazy sunday with its warmth. Not just a house, but a home." You said as you warp your hands over his body, bare skin to skin.

"Sounds just like us." He said smilingly as he slowly inched his lips towards your forehead. "Sounds perfectly like us."

"Looks like you're the one who easily forgets." Jongdae laughed, obviously teasing you a lot more. "I hope you remember what I said about what I like about having kitchen countertops--"

"Which are not what they're used for." You cut him off before he says things that are not meant to be talked about in a workplace. Turning your back against him, you put creamer and sugar in your freshly poured drink.

"I'm really surprised you remember those. I thought you just forget everything and leave." You decided to give a snark remark, not that you planned it. It just came out. So you decided to let out a little laugh in attempt to not make the conversation too serious, or one that you're not to engage in as of the moment.

"Is this about..." He started, his mocking demeanor that was once there earlier now changed into a serious, somber one.

"Nope. We're not talking about that, Engr. Kim." You said as you sipped through your hot coffee.

It was a lie, you wanted to talk about it. Know everything, the reasons, his excuses, made up or not. You just wanted to know what made him turn away completely and never look back. But this wasn't the time, and you wonder if it will ever be. Because to you, his name still carves a silent cut in your heart. One that will never heal, no matter how long it passes by.

But despite the emotional chaos it caused within you, Jongdae still felt like home. How you two worked well together as if your styles and work ethics just blended. Because it was how it supposed to be, as you formed your identities and dreams together. You found yourself still warming up to his laugh, his random touches wasn't an alien feeling. As if it was right, because that's how things used to be.

"You got it just right. But shouldn't be the interior beams placed a little bit lower and on a different degree?" You pointed out to the foreman beside you on the blueprint.

You've been working on Mr. Seo's house, or villa, or more appropriately mansion for over three months now.

"Engr. Kim told us that it could be a concern when we started laying the third floor. The beam will also need another support column, the one we're doing right now." And as if his intuition called him, Jongdae appeared beside you. His hands instinctively snaking behind your back as he explained the changes. You sighed in defeat, it has been started anyway.

"Looks like you and Engr. Kim are comfortable around each other." The foreman stated in a teasing tone, to which Jongdae smirked to.

"We came from the same college. We were friends back then." You defensively explained.

"Thought you might have been more than friends." He teased once more and Jongdae laughed awkwardly, "Actually.."

"Actually not." You said with a fake attempt of a smile. "I'll be at the tent if anyone needs me." And with that you walked off.

Weeks passed and you could feel a dynamic shift with you and Jongdae. From being friendly and familiar, it came back to being strictly professional. His hands were now nowhere near you, he would only talk to you when it concerns the project and nothing more.

But somehow now, you found yourself in his car. Because you came along with Mr. Seo in the site but left you there and now you're left with Jongdae to come back in the city.

"So, we were friends huh?" He broke off the silence. You peered over him, looking at his bland reaction illuminated by the soft cascade of sunset.

"Why, weren't we?" You retaliated.

"I mean, I just thought we were more than that." You avoided eye contact with him, and looked out of the window.

"I thought so too." You sighed. "But then again, I thought that maybe we weren't even friends at all."

"What?"

"Friends don't just leave without explanation." You tried to mask the pain in your voice. "Friends don't just leave you hanging, just avoid you when they don't feel like talking to you anymore. So if we're not friends, we certainly can't be more than that."

You heard him scoff.

"I'll just call myself your past time back then." You let out a laugh hinted with bitterness.

Jongdae called out your name. "It's not like that. It wasn't like that."

"Then tell me what it was, Jongdae. Tell me why you just fucking left me without any explanation and made me feel like shit and unworthy." Your voice cracking on the verge of tears. "Because I'm tired, of all these years thinking it was my fault."

"It wasn't your fault. At all." He said lowly.

"Then why? Was I too boring for you? Did you find someone prettier? Or you just realized I'm not worthy of neither your time nor a proper closure because all of that was how I felt." You broke down, tears started flowing from your eyes and you couldn't help it. These were the questions you were dying to ask for years on end. And now he was here, and the word was out of your mouth.

"I'm sorry. I'm so sorry." That was all he mustered to say as he parked in front of the office building.

"I asked for an explanation, not your apology." With that, you left the car and walked towards yours.

The good thing was that your part of the project was close to finished. The interior architecture has been finalized, and no other revisions on the plan will be made. So all you needed to do was pay a few visits to the site to see the progress and you're good. It just diminishes the need to interact with Jongdae.

Then this night, as you were relaxing at your sofa and watching a movie you heard a knock on your door. You're not expecting anyone to drop by and it's just flat out weird to have someone by your door at 10 in the evening, specially on this age.

But it was weirder to see Jongdae holding a box of donuts, in his hoodie, when you opened the door. It almost seemed like deja vu. Your forhead knotted in confusion. You're sure that constant avoidance and an awkward atmosphere don't lead to that person knocking on your door on late night.

"What are you-" You trailed off when you realized you were only wearing a thin tank top and shorts that barely reach your thighs.

"Just like the old times?" He raised the box and gave a smile.

"We're not 19 anymore, 10 in the evening is considered late at this point Jongdae what do you want?" It came off as tired warning, almost a tone of indifference.

"To give you your well deserve reason and explanation." Jongdae pursed his lips after, seemingly waiting for your approval.

You just opened your door a bit more and let him in. He put down the box your table and removed his hoodie, just like he always did almost a decade ago.

"I don't know if strawberry sprinkles are still your favorite so I just got two of it and a little bit of everything." He said as he opened the box.

"You know how much of a sucker I am for strawberry sprinkles." You let a curve form on your lips as you reached out for a piece. You walked to your fridge and got a bottle of water which you also rested on the table. When you're both sat down, you looked at Jongdae as if you waited for him to speak.

"First of all, I was stupid." His elbows sat on the table and he clasped his hands together in front of his face.

"That's not an explanation, its a fact."

"No. You don't understand."

"Yeah that's why we're in this situation." You said dryingly.

"I was stupid, and didn't make the best decisions. I was graduating that term, and I got scared to leave you there. To have a hard time leaving the university because a piece of me was there." His knuckles rested on his lips.

"That still doesn't make sense to me." You said taking a sip of water.

"I know."

"You got scared to leave me, but you technically didn't stay either. You just cut me off."

"I can't say goodbye to you. I can't bring myself to say goodbye. To leave you. I got an early job offer a term before graduation. Which was extremely far away from you. Knowing myself, how much of a possesive, and jealous prick I was that time, I know it wouldn't work. I would just be paranoid of you going around the university without my arm around you making everyone know you were mine." You searched Jongdae's face of any signs that he was lying, because you knew when he did. But his face was painted with a mix of regret, of guilt, of pain.

"I know the more I stick with you, the harder it would be for me to leave. But you know I had to leave. And you, I couldn't see you cry when I say goodbye. It would break me. So I figured if I just slowly let you go, just go out of your life completely undetected, maybe it wouldn't be a problem. Maybe it was better to leave the last days of us happy then see us going down and crashing and burning. I wanted to leave a good memory, not something of pain."

"You're so fucking stupid." You said in disbelief. But it made perfect sense as the Jongdae you knew wasn't really the most rational with decisions.

"You think you didn't hurt me by doing that?" Your hand slammed against the table.

"I just... I really didn't know what I was thinking back then." A shimmer in his eyes was evident at this point.

"You never even reached out to me! Not a single call after, never." Tears started flowing out of your eyes. "I felt as if I was never important to you because you left me just like that."

"I'm sorry. I'm so fucking sorry. I'm so stupid. I know." Jongdae walked over and hugged you. Your face on his chest, which you didn't even notice that you were hitting already.

"I was there on your graduation, I didn't want to ruin the day so I didn't approach you. You remember? Minseok and Baek was there. I asked them to give the flowers, and the necklace. That was the least I could do." You remembered the said pieces, and that definite day. How you searched for Jongdae when Minseok and Baekhyun approached but it turns out to be just the two of them.

You just started crying on his chest as he cradled you like a child. You were both on the floor by now, and you just let it out. All the pent up emotions you sickeningly tried to get rid off the past seven years.

"It would be selfish of me to ask for forgiveness. But please, give me another chance." He said as he lifted your chin to meet your eyes with his.

"You're so stupid." You remarked but you couldn't help but latch your lips onto his. Your bodies melting together, as if puzzle pieces that were meant to fit.

One thing lead to another, the next thing you knew you're both in your bed. Jongdae's touch was careful but he still knew the way around your body. The places that just flick like a button and make you writhe in pleasure. Every nook in your body that you liked attention in. Everything felt familiar, like every movement was engrained in your head and a muscle memory. He knew you too much for the seven years to even matter. Because right now, right on the afterglow, you're blisfully lying in his chest again. Jongdae humming a song that used to be your favorite back in college. And it just felt like home.

"I'm so sorry for causing you that much pain." He said as he brushed your hair again with his fingers.

"We're both naked in my bed now which kinda means you're forgiven." You laughed. It doesn't make any sense how the person you tried to forget in the past 7 years was now holding you again, bare skin to skin. And laughing as your breathing and heartbeats synced as one.

"7 years was a long time. I missed you. I missed you a lot. I missed you as if those 7 years were hell." You just smiled at his sweet nothings, it was habitual for him to be like this right after.

"Stop acting as if you didn't date others on those 7 years Jongdae." You joked. "They don't matter now. I'm back to you, I always belonged to you." You looked up at him and saw sincerity in his eyes. "Maybe you're the one who dated a lot, missy." You rolled your eyes.

"You're really one hell of a jealous prick."

"I'm pretty sure none of them was better than me." Jongdae remarked defensively.

"In closures? Oh God they were far better at that than you. But in bed..." You smirked teasingly.

"Well, we won't need any closure now. I'm sure as hell that I'm not ever letting you go." Jongdae whispered on your lips as he kissed you once more. And you sure won't either, as he was your home, one who you belonged to, no matter how far you go.

#exo fanfiction #exo imagine #exo scenario #jongdae #chen #jongdae imagine #jongdae fanfiction #jongdae scenario #chen imagine #chen fanfic #exo fanfic #jongdae fanfic #exo

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albatris · 5 years

Text

@alittleyellowdinosaur YEAH HAHA this is by far my worst writeblr habit, I genuinely forget that I haven't actually told people half this information, I just start talking as if everyone can read my mind and will automatically know what the fuck I'm on about

but yeah! Shara and Kai being a thing has been, like, the one single constant across every iteration of this story. like pretty much every single thing about this book has been sliced and diced and swapped out or thrown into an entirely different universe or changed beyond recognition at some point, but these two have been here being a thing from day one and that’s Really Saying Something

and idk if I can tell you everything ‘cause my brain is a bit fried and idk if you actually wanted me to ramble about them but hey! words

they’re a good team! they bring out the best in each other and cover each other’s weaknesses. they establish a close friendship pretty much immediately, because although they have pretty different personalities and different ways of understanding and interpreting the world, they have the same values and the same kinds of goals in life. n they both approach life with the same kind of passion and empathy, although it’s expressed differently for each of them

also they’re adventure buddies! Kai is the only person Shara can drag hiking with her! or to go explore obviously haunted abandoned buildings! Shara is the only person who not only goes along with Kai’s shenanigans but enthusiastically suggests even riskier shenanigans! They’re both very intelligent people with a lot of energy and a lot of ideas that they keep bouncing off each other! idk if this makes them a good team or a bad team actually but it certainly makes them a team with momentum! and a team that has fun together which is the most important thing

so, like, they’re also both grounding forces in each other’s lives in very different ways, yeah?

Shara is much more creatively driven and she’s super into puzzle-solving and working out the specific mechanics of things, she can get lost in her own head for hours at a time and gets super frustrated when she can’t solve something that Clearly Has An Answer. Kai is an excellent sounding board for puzzle solving if they need to be but is also someone who can pull Shara out of her own bubble if she’s getting frustrated and stir-crazy, or if it’s been like six hours and she’s forgotten to eat and is ignoring all her other responsibilities

like she’s been at her desk for an hour without blinking and Kai is hanging backwards off her sofa just like “do you think there’s Ports on the moon?”

also tag-teaming it to social gatherings with your best friend the Over-Enthusiastic Bubbly Outgoing Extrovert can do wonders when you have social anxiety and struggle to start conversations lmao

Kai is much more high-energy momentum all the time always and has this kinda “feelings can’t catch you if you never stop moving” mentality which is, y’know, definitely one of their flaws. and Shara is one of the first people that Kai feels they can actually properly relax around, like, it’s okay to stop Doing in the presence of this one specific person, it’s safe to just sit here and be present. Kai has a lot of trouble feeling connected to reality just ‘cause of time loops and stress and apocalypses and very undiagnosed dp/dr because of time loops and stress and apocalypses, and one of their favourite things to do is to just sit and listen to Shara ramble about whatever her hyperspecific topic of interest for the day is, whenever they’re feeling disconnected or stressed this is something that helps them calm down, Kai considers Shara’s voice one of their favourite sounds even thought that’s corny as hell

also in terms of problem-solving Kai has a tendency to get so caught up in the bigger picture they miss obvious details? like, they definitely have a tendency to extrapolate and think in a lot of abstracts where Shara is very literal and concrete, on multiple occasions Kai gets super caught up in a problem and makes it ten times bigger than it actually is because they fail to see the answer is like. literally right there in front of them if they just stop trying so goddamn hard to see some deeper meaning. and Shara is just like “dude stop it’s literally so obvious ffs watching you is physically painful”

n their relationship itself is something that starts off pretty slow ‘cause they’re both still testing the waters with what feels right and what labels they’re comfy with

‘cause Kai’s nonbinary and while they are most decidedly Not A Boy they’re also most decidedly Not A Girl

and Shara initially ID’s as gay and is kind of “hey wtf” about the fact that she’s now caught feelings for someone who’s not a girl and for a while is all “ok so am I gay with this one exception? am I bi? what is this?”

and they’re both eventually just like “idk lmao, this is what it is, it’s just a stupid undefinable ball of question marks and it’s ok so long as we’re both cool with it!”

and they are so it is

that being said, there’s so much jokey flirting and casual affection and calling each other cute nicknames that goes on before they actually start dating that most people assume they’ve already been dating for several weeks

and then when they’re like “oh yeah so we’re dating now” everyone is like. fucking excuse me

ANYWAY THAT WAS A LOT OF WORDS AND I’M NOT SURE ANY OF THEM ARE COHERENT

#atdao #like shara is forty minutes into a rant abt how time is a circle and the moon doesn't exist and kai is still just like #sitting there transfixed like ''uh-huh''#''ur doing amazing babe''#''i have no idea what the fuck you're taking about but i love u''#also elliot for some reason my mobile app never updates anyone's icons even tho you've had a new one for like weeks now #lmao #idk man idk

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writerunsolved · 5 years

Text

The Drunken Mistake - Ch. 7

Rating: Teen And Up Audiences

Category: F/M

Fandom: Real Person Fiction

Relationship: Tom Hiddleston/Reader

Genres: Fluff and Humor

Language: English

Chapters: 7/?

Summary: You're a young up-and-coming singer based in London who has just released her first album.

After a wild night at the VMAs and some heavy partying and drinking at the afterparty, you write and publish a drunken tweet about a certain celebrity and one of their friends. You only realise what you've done the next day when a slew of texts and calls wakes you up to a dreadful but expected hangover. You immediately delete the tweet, but you're left to deal with the consequences. A public apology would probably be enough to make everything go away if you hadn't been invited to a movie premiere where said celebrity is most certainly going to be.

You decide that the best course of action will be to try and avoid them, but your plans almost never go the way you want them to.

Author’s Note: Quick PSA: I’d noticed getting fewer notes than usual on the last two chapters. I later found out that Tumblr has killed internal links too, which means that my updates supposedly didn’t show up in searches. For this reason, starting today, I have to stop linking to my previous and next chapters. To make extra sure you don’t miss any updates, you can also subscribe to this fic on AO3.

Seen the situation, your reblogs are more important than ever! Remember to support your favourite creators on Tumblr by reblogging rather than liking their posts, it is the only way their work can get around and reach a wider audience! Thank you in advance for reading!

Previous chapters can be found on this blog.

Chapter Seven - Just As Sweet As Coffee And With The Same Aftertaste

When you’d gotten home after the dinner, you had just as mechanically divested and put on your pyjamas. Only once you’d laid down on your bed to sleep, had the weight of what had happened finally dawned upon your mind and quickly become a thought to worry about.

In the safety of your bedroom and under the cover of darkness, as well as the more literal duvet that the cold weather had started requiring, your brain had once again begun spinning out of your control providing you with ever new anxieties. You had soon started examining your behaviour during the whole evening, considering the way you’d eaten, laughed, drunk, the subjects you’d decided to talk about, and every single reaction you’d elicited from Tom. But the one thought that had kept circling back throughout your meticulous examination had been that of the almost-kiss you had almost-shared.

Right then, an unbearable feeling of embarrassment had burned inside you like a sudden stab, and you had immediately felt the shame that came with presuming that none of it had been reciprocated. Once the belief that you had forced yourself on poor, polite Tom had taken root in your head, sleep had seemed like a distant memory you had no idea how to chase, nor grasp.

At some point, you had lost any sense of the time passing, so much that only the vibration of your phone on the nightstand had finally made you realise how late it had gotten. When you’d hurriedly snatched it to check who it was, desperate for any kind of distraction from your own train of thought, the single text you had received had been enough to put your mind at ease and make you decide that it was time to try and sleep.

“I had a wonderful night,” it had read, “I look forward to next time.”

You hadn’t answered right then, only seen that it was almost 2 AM and turned around with a smile on your face, determined to rest.

When you finally did wake up, you were drowsy enough that the memory of the previous night wasn’t the first thought in your mind. You checked your phone and saw that it was almost 11 AM, panic shot through you for just a second before you remembered that it was Sunday and you had no work, so you relaxed back into the mattress with a sigh.

You instinctively reached for your phone, mostly to check if you had any new texts, not yet remembering that you still had one from Tom to answer. When you took it in your hand, his notification was still there, hitting you with a mix of undefined emotions.

“Hi, and good morning :) I also had a great time, we should meet again soon," you sent him in response. Then, in another text, you added, “If work allows, of course.”

You wondered just for a moment if it sounded like you were making excuses not to meet again, but your worry was instantly alleviated by him replying “I’ll definitely let you know when I’m free again, and I hope you’ll do the same.” You agreed and for the rest of the day you texted back and forth like you’d been doing for a while now, and the normalcy of it kept your preoccupations about the night before at bay.

The next few days passed in much the same fashion, with the exception of going back to work on Monday. You were distracted enough with new interviews and finally some meetings to determine when and where your upcoming concert tour would take place, that you barely had time to dwell on your anxieties again.

They had certainly faded from your mind that Wednesday when you were having lunch with Nina at a small place on the same street as the label building.

You were sitting down at a sleek square table, lunch in front of you, and slowly picking at the food while Nina spoke rapidly into her mobile phone. You had no idea what she was talking about, her voice fast enough and low enough that you could only catch a couple of words here and there, like “Liam” and “Be on time” and a whole lot of “No”. You looked distractedly around you, the small restaurant had a cold, minimalistic vibe to it, with polished aluminium tables and chairs. It was the first time you ate there, Nina had been the one to suggest it, you didn’t mind the food but it wasn’t anything special.

A lot of people kept coming and going, only very few opting to sit down in the small space that the restaurant allowed, and most just grabbing paper bags full of food to take away and eat elsewhere. You really didn’t understand the appeal of the place, but you imagined it would certainly be convenient to stop there and pick up a quick meal if you worked in one of the many office buildings of the area.

Your inconsequential thoughts were interrupted by Nina almost slamming the phone down on the tabletop and declaring, “This is why I don’t want interns, they’re only a waste of my time.” She sighed loudly and faced you, shaking off the annoyance of the phone conversation and digging into her lunch with vigour.

“Sorry for that,” she started, carelessly waving her fork around and talking animatedly, “Talking to Liam is like screaming into the wind. He’s always carrying that notepad around and writing everything down, and yet he still calls me for every tiny thing,” she huffed again, “Unbelievable.”

You nodded in sympathy, “I guess it must be hard to keep up with you,” you told her, “Not even I have any idea of the number of things you get done in a single day.”

“Don’t defend him,” she groaned and pointed at you with her fork, you felt mildly threatened, “I know I’m a force to be reckoned with, but if he wants to get anywhere at the label he’s gonna have to learn.”

You replied with a small “Fair enough,” and took another bite of your lunch, Nina did the same.

“This food isn’t all that much,” she commented, “I shouldn’t have trusted Mike, but anyway...” She paused and quickly ate another mouthful or two, then directed her attention at you, “I don’t believe you’ve told me about your dinner the other night.”

Her change of subject surprised you enough that you almost choked on the food you’d just put in your mouth. You started coughing convulsively, barely managing to swallow a crouton before it choked you to death. Nina just looked at you silently, unscrewing the water bottle you were sharing and pouring some of the liquid in your glass. You thanked her with a look and gulped down the water, finally able to breathe normally again.

“Is that a positive or negative answer?” she asked you with a smirk.

You straightened up and gave her a nasty look, “Very funny.”

“It was a little bit funny,” she pushed her thumb and index finger together to show how much, “But mostly it was adorable, I can’t believe how much of a goner you are.”

You spluttered, you were just about to reply when your phone, which had been sitting on the side of your glass, vibrated with a new text alert. You ignored your train of thought in favour of checking the notification but didn’t get any further than seeing that it was from Tom because Nina started laughing. You looked at her, confused by her reaction.

She pointed at the phone you were clutching with the hand still holding her fork, “See, you have no leg to stand on! You literally stopped mid-thought to check if he was sending you a text.”

“I- I wasn’t- I didn’t! I-” you stuttered, trying to find something to defend yourself, “We were just… We were already texting before!” you almost shouted. Then, realising your sudden increase in volume, you cleared your throat and tried again in a much lower voice and a casual shrug, “It would be rude to leave him hanging.”

Nina smiled and rolled her eyes, “Oh, you are just so,” she elongated the word, “Considerate.”

“Well, excuse me,” you rebutted, an exaggeratedly haughty look on your face.

“Go on,” she urged you, “Read it. I know you’re dying to.”

“I’m not dying to,” you muttered but didn’t hesitate to open up the text. For some reason or other, you and Tom had started talking about the cartoons you used to watch as children, you had no idea how you’d gotten to the subject, and he was just following up on the conversation. You shot back a quick answer and put the phone back on the table.

“Anyway,” Nina started again when she saw you were done, “I really do want to know about dinner. Come on, don’t leave me hanging,” she pouted.

“It was just dinner,” you answered, “There isn’t all that much to say, really...”

“Okay, okay, I get it,” she nodded, “I can tell you don’t want to talk about it.” You wanted to protest, but she continued in a more serious tone, “Just remember that we’re friends, and whenever you’re ready - and if you feel like you need to - you can talk to me, okay?”

You shook your head gently, “I appreciate it, Nina. But, honestly, you’re making it out to be much bigger than it is.”

“I know you, hon,” she repeated, “And I’m pretty sure you’re stressing about this. But I also know that you need time to think about it by yourself, which is fine,” she insisted, “But don’t feel like you have to keep everything inside because you think we’re gonna judge you or something like that.”

“It’s not that,” you sighed and looked down at the table, nervously picking at the edge with your index finger, “I’m just not sure of the situation, and I don’t feel like I’m ready to share what’s going through my mind yet. I need more time to clear my head is all,” you finally admitted and looked up at Nina. She was smiling kindly.

“It’s okay, hon,” she reassured you, “I’ll still be here later.”

You forced yourself to smile back, trying to show your gratitude, but the feeling of being a bad friend was nagging at you. Something in you wanted to push and make you open up, but your insistence to deny that you were feeling anything at all was much stronger. Sometimes you just wished you could be a better friend to the people supporting you.

“Oh, I almost forgot,” Nina changed the subject swiftly, “The 4 PM meeting on Friday was cancelled, so you can definitely make other plans for the evening. And Monday, too,” she added, “My parents are gonna be in town, so I’m giving you a day off,” she winked.

“Nice!” you commented, then asked her, “How are your parents by the way? It was so lovely meeting them last May.”

“They’re fine,” she waved a hand dismissively, “They’re enjoying retirement in their dreamy French villa, as usual. You should join us for dinner on Monday, they loved meeting you, too. They were smitten by that talentueuse jeune fille,” she said the last sentence in an exaggerated French accent, an imitation of her parents’, “And wouldn’t stop talking about you.”

You laughed. The rest of the meal was spent making plans for the dinner on Monday. After that, you both went back to work. Later in the day, you texted Tom to let him know you would be free on Friday afternoon and asked him if he wanted to get coffee. He accepted enthusiastically and promised to discuss specifics later in the day.

Amidst your hectic working hours, Friday seemed to come in an instant.

You’d heard from Tom again and, in the end, you’d agreed on going to Caffé Piccolo. You’d mentioned their amazing coffee in previous conversations, and he was thrilled to finally get to experience it too.

That day, you managed to leave work exactly at 4 PM. The morning meetings about the tour had been slow-going and full of technical information you couldn’t do much about. In fact, you weren’t sure why your presence had been required at all, but you hadn’t minded too much and Nina had also been there.

You exited the building and looked at the time on your phone. You and Tom had arranged to meet at a quarter to five in front of Caffé Piccolo, which meant that you still had forty-five minutes to get there, it would be more than enough time to make it without being late. You looked up at the sky, thick grey clouds hovered above the rooftops, promising rain. You frowned, hoping that you would make it home before the weather turned for the worse, then walked away toward the tube station.

You made it to the café with a few minutes to spare and no rain on your path. You briefly considered whether to wait for Tom inside, but in the end, opted to stay where you were. Soon enough, you saw him hurrying down the street from the same direction you’d come, straight from the metro.

When he reached you, you could see that he was wind-swept and that he’d probably ran to make it in time. His hair was in complete disarray and his coat was unbuttoned, showing that he was wearing a soft navy-blue sweater underneath.

“Hi!” he greeted you cheerfully, a huge smile on his lips. He passed a hand through his hair, trying to slide it back in place, but it did very little. “Sorry, I’m late.”

You smiled back, “Oh, don’t worry, you’re not late,” you reassured him, “I got here a bit early, but you’re perfectly on time”.

He touched your shoulder gently and said, “It’s good to see you again,” then, he hugged you tightly.

You felt just as off guard as the first time you’d hugged. You guessed it would take a while before you would get used to it. You obviously didn’t hate it, but you had trouble letting yourself go, though you did try. By the time you separated, you’d even managed to reciprocate the hug.

“So this is the legendary Caffé Piccolo,” he said, looking behind you at the small door, “Did I say it right?”

“I’m not one to judge,” you joked, “But be reassured that if you say it wrong inside, they won’t hesitate to correct you.” He laughed, you added, “And I’m not sure about legendary, but their coffee is certifiably extraordinary.”

“I was excited to try it before, but now I can’t wait one more second. Shall we go in?” he asked, extending a hand towards the door.

You nodded and turned around to make your way inside, keeping the door open for Tom who followed you in and thanked you. You let the door close behind him and looked around, searching for an empty table. You couldn’t see Andrea, at his place at the cash register was his mother Santuzza, who immediately saw you enter and welcomed you with a huge smile.

“Andrea! Vieni un attimo alla cassa! ” she shouted toward the back, from which Andrea appeared. He quickly took his mother’s place at the cash register so Santuzza could make her way towards you, open arms ready to squeeze you. “Gioia mia, it’s so nice to see you!”, she spoke with a thick accent and her smile still in place. As soon as she reached you, she threw her arms around you and crushed you into the sweetest hug she could manage.

“Mrs Fusco, I’m happy to see you, too,” you told her when she let you go. You massaged your left side carefully, she had pushed so tightly around you, that you couldn’t help but jam your own elbow into the side of your ribs. You could see Andrea behind her punching in one of the costumers’ order, he raised his eyes from the cash register and spotted you looking back. He greeted you with a small wave of his hand and went back to his task.

“Oh, please, tesoro mio, call me Santuzza. How many times do I have to tell you?” she chastised you, then asked, “What are you doing here, goia?”

“I brought a friend to try your magnificent coffee,” you replied, gesturing towards Tom, who was watching the exchange with a tiny smile.

“It’s a pleasure to meet you, Mrs Fusco,” he told Santuzza, then introduced himself, “I’m Tom, I’ve heard amazing things about your establishment.” He extended his hand, and when Santuzza did the same, he lifted her hand to his lips and gently kissed it. You could immediately see how flattered the gesture had made her and covered your mouth to hide the impressed grin that had bloomed on your lips.

“Oh my,” Santuzza almost blushed, “What a charming young man you have there,” she turned to you, “Mi raccomando, amore mio, tienitelo bello stretto.”

You laughed slightly, sure that the compliment had made Tom bashful, but not of what Santuzza had told you with her last sentence.

“Enjoy the coffee,” she told you both and went back to her place at the cash register, pushing Andrea back towards the kitchen in the back.

“You speak Italian?” Tom asked you while you made your way to one of the small tables next to the large window that overlooked the front of the store.

You took off your coat and draped it on the back of your chair before sitting down, Tom did the same. “Not really,” you told him, “I’m not sure what she said, to be honest, I only understand the pet names because she uses them so much.”

“I see,” he replied, “She was calling you ‘love’, and ‘joy’, and ‘treasure’. I can understand a little Italian, but not enough to know what she told you, I’m afraid,” he explained.

“That’s impressive!” you commented, widening your eyes, “You should teach me what you know sometime.”

“Why not,” he smiled, then changed the subject, “I assume you come here a lot, you seem very close with the owner.”

“Owners, actually,” you specified, “Santuzza and her husband Giovanni opened the café with their son Andrea.” Tom was listening interestedly. “From what I know, Andrea went to a business university here in London. When he went back to Italy after that, he convinced his parents to move to London too and to open Caffé Piccolo,” you explained, “They already had a small place back in Italy, and he believed they could really get somewhere with their coffee specialities.”

Tom looked around, almost every other table in the room was occupied, and there were several people waiting in line for their coffee at the counter. “I think he might have had the right idea,” he joked, referring to the small crowd.

You chuckled. “I know I amped up their coffee a lot,” you emphasised the last two words, “But I swear I wasn’t lying.”

Before Tom could answer, Andrea had reemerged from the back of the café and was approaching your table. “Bellezza, it’s been a while,” he greeted you. He looked around and towards the entrance before continuing, “No Nina today?”

“Hey, Andrea,” you greeted him with a smile, “Nope, no Nina.” He sighed in relief. “I brought a new friend today.”

At that, Andrea noticed Tom, who was sitting cross-legged in front of you with a small smirk, and gulped. He spluttered several times before squeaking out, “I didn’t know you were friends with Tom Hiddleston.”

You snickered at Andrea’s loss for words, he was probably mourning Nina’s absence just then.

“Hi, Andrea, nice to meet you,” Tom offered his hand to shake, still smirking and going along with your teasing.

Andrea took it and said, “It’s the same for me, Mr Hiddleston.”

Behind Andrea’s back, you widened your mouth in amused surprise and outrage: Andrea had never been that polite to Nina and you!

“Please, just Tom,” he answered. When their hands separated, Andrea took a step back and looked between you and Tom squaring his shoulders in the semblance of a professional demeanour, and asked, “Are you ready to order?”

You glanced at Tom and asked him, “Would you mind if I ordered for you?”

“Please,” he replied, “Go ahead.”

“Do you like chocolate?” you asked him one last time, and when he nodded you turned to Andrea and finally said, “We’ll have a Marocchino and a Caffé al Ginseng, please.” Andrea, who had taken out a small notepad, wrote the order down and nodded, leaving the two of you and walking back towards the counter.

“I’m kind of curious about what you just ordered,” Tom started, “But I also want to keep the surprise alive,” he joked. You laughed. A beat or two of silence passed before he spoke again, “I was surprised by your text,” he said, “Pleasantly, of course. Did you get a long weekend?”

“No, actually,” you explained, “The afternoon meeting for today was cancelled, and since it was the last appointment for today, I thought I’d let you know and see if you were free too.”

“Well, thank you for that,” he replied, “I was glad you thought of me.”

You blushed, “No problem,” you almost mumbled, smiling shyly. Then asked, “Did you also get a half-day?”

“Unfortunately not,” he lifted the corner of his mouth in a bitter smile, “I was free this morning, but I have a work dinner later tonight.”

“Oh, I see. What time do you need to get going?”

“Don’t worry about it,” he replied with a brush of his hand, “It’s not until eight.”

You were going to say more when Andrea approached your table again, carrying a round metal tray. He set half of it on the table, keeping the other half up with his hand, and started moving the cups out of it. He set two glasses filled with water on the table, then said, “A Marocchinohere,” and deposited a small plate with a slightly larger than usual espresso cup filled to the brim with a deep brown chocolate and coffee concoction in front of Tom, then a smaller one with what looked like a very weak coffee in front of you, “And a Caffé al Ginseng for you.” You were about to thank him, but he added, “And I brought some Cantuccini. Dad made them this morning, let me know what you think,” and winked at you.

“Thank you, Andrea,” you told him. He nodded, picking up the tray and holding it in front of him, then left with a quick friendly touch to your shoulder.

You looked back at Tom, he was observing Andrea intently, but when he noticed you were looking at him he smiled with a raise of his eyebrows and said, “Shall we?”

You nodded and picked up your cup, he did the same, taking a whiff of the beverage before bringing it to his lips. You took a drink of your coffee and surveyed him from the top of your cup, trying to gauge his reaction. He finally tasted the liquid and, as soon as it touched his tongue, he let out an appreciative moan.

“This is amazing!” he commented, visibly impressed.

You set your already almost empty cup back on the table and reached for the half-moon shaped cookies, taking one. “I’m glad to hear that,” you smiled, then took a bite.

“So I can definitely taste the chocolate and coffee,” he stated, “But how is this made exactly? And what is the one you ordered?”

You swallowed the cookie bite and replied, “I’ve been told Marocchino is not actually coffee, but a separate beverage. Although it is made with coffee and also sweetened milk cream, in addition to dark chocolate, of course.” He nodded in agreement. “And the one I got is made with Ginseng extract and milk, mixed with espresso, which is why it looks like watered down coffee,” you explained, “Would you like to try some?”

“Oh, no, thank you. Maybe next time,” he smiled, then reached for the cookies. You looked at him expectantly, ”Wow! These are incredible,” he exclaimed, “I’ve had Cantucci before, but these are really good.”

“Glad it lived up to your expectations,” you joked.

He laughed then said, “I hope you don’t mind me asking. You said you had a meeting that was cancelled, what would it have been about?”

“It’s totally fine,” you reassured him, “We’ve been in talks about my upcoming world tour for the last few days.”

“That’s amazing! Have you worked out the details yet?”

“Not yet, no,” you replied, “The dates for the European part are more or less all decided,” you explained, “But the American part is still a little foggy. Nina, my manager, was trying to keep them pretty cohesive, but the higher-ups have been saying that they’d rather have me take a break after all the European concerts are done and wait a couple of months before we move the tour to North America.”

He hummed pensively, “That doesn’t seem very intuitive,” he considered, “When are you going to start travelling around for it?”

You made a dismissive gesture with your hand and said, “Oh, not until next May, so there’s still a lot of time to argue about specifics,” you joked. “What about you?” you asked him then, “Any new projects in the near future? Something to do with tonight’s dinner?”

“Tonight is actually for some promotional appearances for that voice acting project I told you about before,” he responded, “But I should start on something new in a couple of weeks...”

You spent the next hour talking about work and pleasantly chit-chatting about your personal lives. The atmosphere of the café made you feel at ease more than the restaurant had a few days before. Something about the familiarity of the environment and the repeated experience of going out with Tom helped you relax like you hadn’t quite been able to do the first time you’d eaten together. Tom seemed just as serene in the more low-profile setting. Either way, you barely noticed the time passing by, marked by the arrival of a text from your sister some hour and a half later.

You ignored it at first, unwilling to interrupt the conversation and be impolite, but when more texts kept coming, you had to excuse yourself and check in case of an emergency.

“Ben just broke up with me,” the texts said, “Can I sleep at yours tonight? ” and then, in lack of a response, “I'll be there at seven.”

The surprise and worry must have shown on your face because Tom asked you, “Is everything okay?”

“I am so sorry,” you apologised, putting away your phone, “I really don’t want to cut this short, but my sister just told me she’s coming over to sleep at my house.”

“Did something happen?” he asked.

“I’m not sure,” you replied, “Something with her boyfriend. I’m honestly so sorry,” you insisted.

“Oh, no, please, it’s okay,” he reassured you, “It’s almost time I get going, too. Let me use the restroom first and then we can go, okay?”

You nodded. He quickly left the table, so you started gathering your things, putting on your coat and taking out your wallet from your bag. When he came back, you waited for him to do the same and told him, “I’m gonna go ahead and pay.”

He hesitated, then told you with a guilty look, “I already did that.” You were about to protest, but he continued, with a conciliatory smile, “I promise I’ll let you pay next time.” You didn’t believe him, but you dropped the issue with a small shake of your head and a playful roll of your eyes.

Soon enough, you walked out of the café, waving goodbye to Andrea at the counter. You couldn’t see his mom anymore so you mouthed, “Say bye to your parents for me.” Andrea nodded and went back to work, and you finally left.

Before leaving, you and Tom stopped on the curb in front of the café to say bye. “I would have liked to stay a little longer,” you told him, “I’m really sorry.”

“Please, don’t apologise anymore,” he said, looking intensely into your eyes. He leaned a gentle hand on your shoulder, “I’m sure we can meet again soon,” he continued, unconsciously playing with the lapel of your coat.

You smiled timidly, “I hope so too,” you told him, “I had a great time, good luck with dinner.”

“Thanks,” he responded, “Let me know if something serious happened with your sister and if I can do anything, okay?” You nodded, he dropped his hand from your shoulder, “I’ll see you soon,” he said finally and turned away with a small wave.

You waved back and turned around, walking in the opposite direction, on the path to your house. When you got there, your sister was waiting in front of the main door, huddled onto herself like she was cold and looking dejected. When she saw you approaching, she ran towards you and buried her head in your neck, expecting a hug. You squeezed her and tenderly caressed her hair back. When you separated, her eyes were wet with tears. “Let’s get you inside,” you told her softly, and took out the keys to the entrance.

Translation of French and Italian dialogue: - talentueuse jeune fille = talented young lady - Vieni un attimo alla cassa! = Come to the register for a bit! - Gioia mia / gioia, tesoro mio, Bellezza = My joy / joy, my treasure, Beautiful - Mi raccomando, amore mio, tienitelo bello stretto. = Make sure to hang onto him hard, my love.

Chapter 8 coming soon

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the-truth-behind-redacted · 5 years

Text

Dome’s Way Home

Dear Locket, Entry 5

While it's not exactly the most thrilling for me, it's now blatantly clear to me that there is more than the Sp-Tem(s) exist in this place. I also have reason to suspect that they are sentient on some level. Of course, the word I could be looking for is sapient but I have no way to check even if it is. The flashes of explosions break the field of vision and the calls of many different things echo above. It's very clear to me this is a war front and not some happenstance battle of two giant beasts. What worries me is that I'm slowly moving forward to that locations though it's angled off from my path.

However, the main fear I have about this is that war is an organized institution, or however you would describe it, and it requires some form of societal structure. I'm not saying it has to be advanced or even something like ours but a group with a unified reason to fight against another is near textbook war. This should go without saying that I am by no means at this point an expert of how things work here so for all I know this is a territory battle between two apex preditor groups that just because of the very alien way of these beings has caused me to confuse it for war. Hell, what the fuck do I know?

Way before I reached my current position where the battle is as clear as it is now, I decided to do a few other tests. The first one was just for documentation, however embarrassing it may have been, of testing sexual functions. I covered in either my first or second entry that many psychical functions don't affect me. This being the need for sleep, lack of fatigue, food and water, and the need for restrooms. Also, besides the auto weapon, no physical strain has been happening to me. This left one obvious bodily function that I needed to test while inside this undefined place.

To make a very uncomfortable story short, the answer is yes. I did feel an increase in body temperature during the progress as well as self-lubrication. Climax also happened with the excretion of climaxal fluid. Thought this was a humiliating process an interesting thing to note after is that I did feel a form of physical fatigue after climax. This, however, has made it clear that my bodily functions are still working, they just seem to be in a form of suspended animation until some very exact stimulus activates them. Why sexual stimulation is one of them, I don't know but it's very strange to me. That is to say, slightly more strange than literally everything else that's been going on.

Now on to the real reason why I'm writing this entry, I have found some semblance of a civilization in this deranged world. I call it a semblance because all that's left seems to be shattered domes that I can only guess served as some sort of shelter. This is built in the center of a mass of intersecting paths which only seems to suggest that these paths weren't built. They just seem to have been here beforehand. That would explain why these paths just stretch on endlessly without any seeming purpose or reason of existence.

There's something unspeakably horrific about this. It all seems so humanoid. Of course, it's not like any human structure I've seen but once more drawing back from old history, there was a group of people known as Esca-to. They were a group of nomadic people who lived in frigid temperature. I'm not quite sure how one would live in the cold without technology but they survived there for hundreds of thousands of years, supposedly. Then again, there wasn't a climate on Gee-Gerotous that could be considered cold. It is pretty temperate all over.

Anyways, the Esca-tos lived in the upper Northern Hemisphere of the planet Earth where it was mostly fridged. There was a lot of ice and snow that covered everything. Well, because of the climate in these areas, there weren't as many basic building resources. So instead of wood or clay, they used compactable snow. These igloos basic structure featured a dome of compacted snow with a relatively small crawl space for a person to get in.

Now, this information is the only common beliefe from what we have. Ancient historians disagree about much of this, especially the condition to why Igloos were the common form of housing, if they were even the common form of housing, if the Esca-tos were even the pioneers of this form of housing, and much more. Hell, there isn't even an agreement if the word Igloo was even used to refer to these housings. This is just the current working theory. It's hard to be 100% about anything if you don't have an active site to investigate, which brings me to this ruin (though I don't think snow would preserve well over thousands of years).

The site was massive, and I'm still quite impressed with how many different paths intersected in this one area to create as much space as it has. Many of the domes have caved in over time. In total there are 13 large domes and it's hard to tell how many smaller ones existed. It seems that before whatever was here simply abandoned this site, many of the smaller destroyed domes were piled together. Of the small domes that still exist there are about 15, only slightly more than the big ones. I guess the ones that weren't destroyed when they left are now the ones that caved over time.

It's important to mention that the terms small and big are absolutely relative terms to each other. I'm a decently sized woman, 5'8 (173cm), and the "crawl spaces" open up to well over my body size. If I was to estimate the size of the entire platform this was made on is about 5.5km*6km. The size kept within each of the large domes are larger than what most usual household sizes are from my world. Each large dome could house many families with enough space to segregate each family with walls to allow privacy. However, looking at some of the basic structures found in the domes that haven't completely collapsed suggest that they were used to only house one being.

The most intact large dome had only the entrance collapsed and some of the very center of the ceiling which fell into the housing. It took quite a while to move much of the mysterious crystal substance which seemed to compose everything in this world. Upon entering the first thing I saw was a bed structure. For the first time ever it was something that wasn't purple! Drape over a rectangular base was a golden "fur." Touching it wasn't comfortable at all. The fibers were like needles and I did puncture the tip of one of my fingers. If I die from an infection because of this, I'm going to be pissed. Well dead but I'm going to be pissed while I die that is if suffering doesn't consume me which it most likely will.

Carefully pulling it off saw what was underneath. The case was hollowed out and there was some kind of comforter. It was seamed together with a hardy pelt. It did bend and flow like a pillow but it wasn't quite as soft. I made a knife as a tool from my weapon, which only took a bit of focus, and cut it open. I pulled out what looked to like scales. Their color was a glistening velvet, green, and sea blue. They were surprisingly malleable. Each segment was lined and seamed together. Honestly, it looks now a bit more like a sofa than a bed but it really doesn't share a similar look. Maybe if I flipped it but it's just a crystal flat surface. I don't understand its design.

I glanced around the room and much of the furniture was very much overside for me. Many of the chairs were like the oversized bar stools that go up to your waist. These were quite a bit larger, going up to my chest. I lifted myself up onto one and looked at the desk. There was an assortment of little nick-nacks. An object I recognized was an object to represents the physical property for every action there is an equal and opposite reaction. Known to us as the Casacal's Formation, named after the physicist from the group that uplifted our civilization to our current technological level, it has a set of objects evenly held together and lined up, in which one pulls one side of the formation letting it go and collide with a part that is resting which will cause the other end to launch out, pull back, and hit the resting part of the formation causing this to happen until one stops it or friction drags to a stop. Here, its called "Newton's cradle."

Another object was some weird singularity. Contained in a black tinted glass container, there is a swirling mass of energy that expands, contracts, and then condenses again in a flash of light before separating into two other masses of energy colliding and begin the cycle again. On the base on which the glass sphere containing the singularity it's labeled as "Matter Apperation Separation Cycle." It certainly doesn't seem to be scientific like Casacal's Formation as it didn't seem to be any kind of natural source causing the separation and recombination of the energy contained inside. There is also a warning on it saying to be careful when handling. I can only assume because the energy could cause massive damage if broken. I decided to put this in my bag in case I need a makeshift grenade.

There were three other objects on the desk. Two of the items seemed to be a computer. At least that what I think it is. Another object is a complicated assortment of in grove details, crystals that aren't purple (I'm sure God doesn't even know where the fuck those came from), and a broken set of what appears to be wires. Looking at what I would assume to be the computer tower, there's a massive empty section inside plus a bunch of other things that look like this world's tech. There's another object that looks like what I would think are fans. They are weird inserts with tubes running into them that have slits that air could pass through.

I don't know for sure but it all seems to be intact. All that appears to be damaged is what I would guess to be an internal power source. Near the possible internal power source and a possible computer tower is what could possibly be a monitor. It is really fucking big and very flat and has some kind of thin film screened over what reflects back as, what else, purple. I can see myself in its reflection and boy have I seen better days. This isn't important!

This old thing (I assume it's old) has really sparked my interest. Hopefully, somewhere around here there are instructions about this thing or at least manufacturing notes. Actually, wouldn't manufacturing notes be rarer than basic instructions of the product? Oh god, I'm beginning to treat this journal like it's a person that can answer my questions. I'm losing it. FUCK, focus you, dumb bitch. Alright, beyond the rest weird furniture that is around this place there doesn't seem to be anything else of interest. There are still quite a few other locations for me to check out. For now, I'll cut this and do another entry on the rest I find in the other caved in domes. I'll also check the crystal piles as well.

#Update #Purple #Story Tag: Beginnings of Rapture #Story Tag: Locket account #Chapter 1: You were better off not knowing #Simple Pondering #There's something here #Echo Echo #Time tag: Uncertain #Area Tag: ?!?

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potterandpromises · 5 years

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Timeless, Garcy, and Jessica Logan?

Timeless

Favorite character: hmmm… probably Lucy when it comes down to it.

Least Favorite character: I certainly don’t like Wyatt as much as the show wants me/expects me to–but if he was given a proper character arc I would like him. No one immediately jumps to mind who I absolutely despise… I’ll go with Nicholas Keynes.

5 Favorite ships (canon or non-canon): Garcy, Riya, Wyjess, Emma x Jessica (not as like a healthy, longterm ship, but I think it’s an interesting idea to explore in fic) Denise x Michelle.

Character I find most attractive: this is a show full of attractive people and you expect me to pick just one? For shame. (Is another way of saying Idk)

Character I would marry: I wouldn’t marry any of them.

Character I would be best friends with: I think I’d get along pretty well with Jiya.

a random thought: I really do want a season 3 if we pick up from 2x10. Even though I don’t trust the writers anymore.

An unpopular opinion: I actually don’t think Amy should/should have been saved. I think the narrative is pointing toward Lucy accepting that Amy can’t be saved and that being another layer of her motivation to destroy Emma and Rittenhouse.

My Canon OTP: Garcy

My Non-canon OTP: I don’t have one.

Most Badass Character: there are a lot of badass characters but I’ll go with Flynn.

Most Epic Villain: Emma, I love Emma. She’s this completely irredeemable yet sympathetic villain. And she is fascinating; from her believe that a person’s worth comes only from their achievements to her willingness to justify anything to get what she wants; she is one of my favorite villains in anything I’ve encountered thus far.

Pairing I am not a fan of: Lucy/Wyatt. They needed each other in season one, but aside from Wyatt’’s actions after Jessica’s return (unhealthy and incredibly selfish). Lucy has outgrown Wyatt. He’s still the same dude as he was when they met, just with his issues pushed to the surface. Whereas Lucy has changed and groom a lot since the Hindenburg, since her time with Rittenhouse, since everything. And I don’t think Wyatt understands that at all. Plus even if that wasn’t the case, what do they really have in common?

Character I feel the writers screwed up (in one way or another): if we’re including the Christmas special? Literally all of them. Otherwise no one really jumps to mind–but I kind of wish we’d gotten more time with certain characters like Noah or Bam Bam. But I don’t know that that would actually benefit the story so much as I just like them.

Favourite Friendship: Flynn and Rufus. The two funniest characters in the show and you put them together? Magical.

Character I most identify with: I identify quite a bit with Lucy’s emotional state in season 2.

Character I wish I could be: errrrr, I don’t envy any of them.

Garcy

When I started shipping them: the beer scene, maybe? Definitely by the end of 2x06. I binge watched so I’m not sure exactly.

My thoughts: this beautiful, intense relationship built on friendship, respect, reading the other’s journal which was given to him by her in his darkest hour, being there for each other in the worst moments of their lives, and an unknown future together.

What makes me happy about them: s o f t, c o m f o r t, l o v e

What makes me sad about them: I suppose the ‘sad’ things about don’t make me feel that way exactly–but to answer the question that would be their separate beliefs they aren’t worthy of love.

Things done in fanfic that annoys me: the opposite of the things I look for I guess? And this isn’t suspect to this ship but having the other characters ship it, like they don’t have lives outside of these two characters. Although I do find the ‘taking bets’ trope to be be funny under certain circumstances, depends on how it’s done.

Things I look for in fanfic: a sense of respect and deep affection.

My wishlist: like in terms of moments? A hug, a bridal carry, Lucy calling him Garcia to get his attention when he’s in a bad place, a proper São Paulo scene, Flynn saving her from the car accident she had in college, bed sharing, and a kiss all come to mind (and that’s just off the top of my head).

Who I’d be comfortable them ending up with, if not each other: Flynn doesn’t really have any other ships (aside from Lorena who he would not stay with if she were to be brought back). If not Flynn, I’d like Lucy to end up with a woman.

My happily ever after for them: I don’t see the 2.5 kids white picket fence life for them. With Flynn’s trauma and Lucy’s family issues I don’t see them planning on having kids–but if it ware to happen accidentally they would go with it. I envision them moving in together after the war and figuring out how to deal with jobs and trauma and this new life together. I also think they would have an undefined relationship for quite a long time. I’ll leave that there sense I have a partially written post-war fic and a few plot bunnies for others.

Jessica Logan

How I feel about this character: I think she has enormous potential.

Any/all the people I ship romantically with this character: Wyatt, and like I said earlier, her having a relationship with Emma would be an interesting thing to explore in the context of a future redemption arc.

My favorite non-romantic relationship for this character: I actually think it would be interesting to see her and Flynn interact. Obviously there are ill feelings there but I don’t think it would be completely lost on them that they aren’t all that different. They both believed in a cause and did bad things for it. The only difference is Flynn was correct all along while Jessica was groomed by a cult-like organization into believing hers.

My unpopular opinion about this character: I could go either way on whether or not she and Wyatt get together if she wore to have a redemption arc. Working out their issues for the sake of their child and ending up together would be interesting to see. But so would A functional divorced relationship.

One thing I wish would happen / had happened with this character in canon: (ignoring the Christmas special). Even though her Rittenhouse ‘plot twist’ was obvious, I can ignore that if it were to lead to something interesting being done with her conflicting feelings related to Rittenhouse and Emma, the fact that she was groomed as a child, the fact she’s an anti-villain rather than a true villain. And I think a redemption arc would be perfect for that.

Favorite friendship for this character: she doesn’t really have any. She had one with Jiya but even if she were to join the team I don’t see them being friends in the same way again.

My crossover ship: I don’t really think much about crossover ships

#timeless #garcy #jessica logan

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orionsangel86 · 6 years

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Can we talk about the endgame human-cas vs angel-cas argument? I find it unsettling that a lot of folks think Cas needs to become human; for his good, or Dean's, or narrative. I understand that Cas needs and wants to get away from the other angels, their jobs, their world - but why have to be human? And people who say "I hope he doesn't become an archangel, how awful for him!" Well I think Cas enjoys being an angel - but he's his own sort of angel. He seems to want his powers and identity. Hmph.

It has taken me ages to answer this ask as I’ve been hesitant about it for ages since it will most likely blow up in my face somehow. So look, I’ve answered it here but I also have a disclaimer on my blog that I want you to read because after all the Cas related drama against meta writers last year I need some sort of protection okay:

http://bluestar86.tumblr.com/CasDisclaimer

Please read the link if you expect to be offended by my answer (and if you’re just curious of course).

A lot of other great meta writers have already tackled this, but seeing as you have come for my thoughts specifically I won’t link other posts on the risk of upsetting you. You are clearly already aware of the various discussions that turned into arguments that turned into a huge wank fest so I’m not going to feed into that.

The problem with the human Cas vs Angel Cas endgame debate,is that it is all just speculation, none of us know what way the writers of the show will choose to take Cas’sstory line. We can only interpret the canon story we have been provided with atthis point. Anything I speculate about future event, could turn out to be totally wrong. But its still fun to speculate anyway. I just want to stress that I am not saying that by disagreeing with me anyone is WRONG. We all have our own opinions after all.

There are a lot of reasons why people might feel like beinghuman is the best fit and most satisfying endgame for Castiel. There is also alot of evidence in the show that suggests that this is the way Cas’s story isgoing. I don’t particularly think this has anything to do with Dean or destieleither, though there will always be people who do think this.

For starters, the whole concept is a well known TV trope.The immortal character who seeks to be human? Yeah it’s been done before, and whilst this isn’t necessarily a good thing, it is a commonthing that we have been conditioned for years to expect in basic storytelling.The fact that this often comes attached to the love trope that said immortalgives up immortality so they can be with a human is just an added bonus forDestiel shippers.

So even without exploring the evidence within the show, thevery idea itself is already a favourable one for most people because it fits astandard storytelling trope that resonates with people. It is a comment on thepower of humanity, and also makes us all feel a bit better to think about theidea that an immortal being would prefer to be human than continue to havetheir godlike power and eternal life (because humanity itself is supposedly agreat gift).

(I should clarify here that I don’t believe that Cas’s fallfrom grace should be connected to Destiel and that Dean would love and be withhim regardless of whether he were angel or human.)

There is every possibility that Supernatural may go againstthe grain here, but the evidence in the show suggests otherwise. Castiel’sstory since his origins in season 4 has been that he is the angel that fallsfor humanity. His love for humanity and continued choice of humanity over hisangelic brethren makes the idea that he would eventually join humanity as oneof them poetic. I think that is why this is the most popular endgame theorywithin fandom over everything else: itis poetic.

Humans generally enjoy poetic stories, as well as ironicones. They are far more satisfying. It feels like the natural conclusion for acharacter such as Castiel, whose journey of self-discovery and acceptance hasoften had him questioning his own place in the world and exactly what kind ofcreature he is meant to be. This is his continued theme throughout his entirerun on the show. The idea that the show would end with him remaining in hiscurrent state, or even elevated to something such as an archangel just feelswrong for his development. I can understand why people would consider that “awful”for Castiel. You say that he “seems to want his powers and identity” but youmiss the point the show is trying to explain to us, that his identity is not tied to his powers. In fact, in the later seasons, it can be argued that hispowers have held him back from really understanding who he really is:

I know that there is a big split here in fandom, but I dofeel that those fans who desperately want Cas to stay an angel have anemotional attachment to the idea because it resonates with them on a personal levelthat he is currently “different” so for him to become “normal” feels like aninsult to those fans. It is the same way those fans who view him as asexualfeel I believe. These are delicate issues. When you want a character to be likeyou and you identify with them so greatly, for the show to then fundamentallychange that character in any way feels like a big hit to you personally. But Ithink this is why there needs to be some detachment between what we personallyfeel attached to, and Castiel’s own story that the show itself (via subtext,narrative structure, and text in certain places) is telling us.

(I should also disclaim here that I am in no way against asexual readings of Castiel and don’t want this to come across this way, as there is certainly room for that interpretation in the text - my own personal view on Cas’s sexuality is “undefinable” )

Aside from the narrative poetry of Cas’s eventual fall fromgrace to humanity, I think the reason a lot of us believe it is the naturalconclusion to his story arc is just the sheer amount of evidence and textualunanswered questions that seem to be leading this way.

There are the parallels to Anna early on, and how it isimplied heavily that he also desires those things that she does.

The constant questions that Cas is never able to answer:

“As what Castiel? As anangel? Or a man?” (no answer) - 9x06Heaven Can’t Wait

“I am an angel.” “andyou’re okay with that?” “If we’re going to war, I need to be ready” (hardlya yes) - 9x09 Holy Terror

“Who are you?” (noanswer) “What are you now? A penitent?” “I’mnothing” (not exactly positive) – 9x14 Captives

“No! If I’m gonna die,I want answers. Like, who are you now? Like, you’re obviously not an angel ofthe Lord. And what about all of this walking the earth like Caine from “KungFu” crap? Cleaning up Heaven’s messes. How many more rogue angels are there outthere? And, what are you gonna do once you’re done with all that? Go back toHeaven? Please. The angel formerly known as Hannah has restored order up top.Smoothest it’s run since God cut the ribbon on the pearly gates. So tell me,Castiel, truly, what is your mission now?” (Cas told Metatron to shut up –but Metatron had a point) – 10x18 Book of the Damned

“Brother? Ha! What areyou?” “W-what? I’m an angel of the Lord.” “That so? ‘Cause, near as I can tell,when you have to choose between heaven and the Winchesters …” “You choosethem.” 11x02 Form and Void

Then to go along with these questions, Castiel himself hadsome very interesting conversations. In 9x11 the talk with Sam about peanutbutter and how Castiel used it to describe the things he missed about beinghuman was particularly enlightening for those of us who now believe that this is his endgame. He basically called his angel-hood “disgusting”.

When he spoke to Daniel at the start of season 10, Danieljust wanted to stay on earth and experience humanity. The conversation he hadwith Hannah was most interesting. Remember that Daniel was a Cas mirror here. Aglaringly obvious Cas mirror:

Hannah: “You are anangel, once and forever.”

Daniel: “Droppedunwillingly…Unknowingly…Into a strange land, a land that, as it turns out,celebrates the free, the individual. For the first time in thousands of years,I have choices. And with each choice… I begin to discover who I really am.”

Hannah: “This isnonsense.”

Daniel: “Because theydon’t teach you this in heaven? Perhaps they should. Then you would understandwhy it’s worth fighting for… What I’ll never understand is why angels won’tacknowledge the wisdom to be found down here.”

Hannah: “What wisdomis to be gained from humans?”

Daniel: “I’m notspeaking to you.”

Hannah (To Castiel): “Doyou understand what he’s…” (Cas never answered, but it was obvious hedid)

This whole conversation imo is foreshadowing Cas choosing tostay on earth with the humans, and when this is then followed up with this:

Castiel: “Well,perhaps I’ve been down here with them for too long. There’s seemingly nothingbut chaos. But not all bad comes from it. Art. Hope. Love. Dreams.”

Hannah: “But t-thoseare human things.”

Castiel: “Yes.”

It implies that Castiel is longing for the humanexperience.

Later on in 10x03 Cas textually states his reasoning forwanting to stay an angel however:

“You know, only humanscan feel real joy, but … also such profound pain. This is easier.”

He said it in relation to Dean’s choosing to stay a demon,but he understood exactly. Cas longs for the human experience, but he can’thandle the pain of it, hence his choice currently to remain an angel (eventhough it isn’t what he really desires).

This sentence by Cas was a direct response to what he saidearlier in 9x23:

“I just want to be an angel”

Because when Cas said that, he was mourning the death ofDean. It was the easy choice for him. It was less painful to remain an angelthan to go back to being human. It’s not good enough evidence imo that Cas shouldremain an angel for his endgame because he said it when he was deeply mourningthe loss of Dean and it was framed extremely negatively by the show and thenwas countered continuously in early season 10 in the subtext of every conversation he had with Hannah.

Most of these examples came out of seasons 9 and 10 however, but as I always say, the endgame arcs for all the three main characters were laid out in seasons 8 - 10 and Dabb is expanding on those concepts. One of the interesting things from the later seasons and Dabb era that I have noticed is just how little Castiel uses his powers now. Most of the time we either see him fighting normally, or trying out his new hunter knowledge to solve a case. What I truly believe Dabb’s goal with Cas’s endgame is to show Cas that he is wanted and needed and loved and useful without his powers. Because it has been tied heavily to his depression arc in seasons 11 and 12 that Cas doesn’t feel useful or powerful enough. The whole point is for Sam and Dean to show Cas that they want him with them regardless of how powerful he may or may not be. For Cas to become empowered, without literal powers.

The main issue that we have with Cas being powered up, is that for character development purposes, it makes no sense. How is Cas supposed to learn his lessons that way? If he becomes this super powerful being? How is that gonna help him get over his issue with only being ‘useful’ or a ‘hammer’ or to stop him obsessing about his ‘missions’? What meta writers tend to scream about is that Cas doesn’t yet seem to realise that it’s not his powers that make him important to the boys, but just HIM. We have not had this clearly resolved in the show, and it won’t be, until the damage that was done in season 9 is finally healed. Cas has gone through a fundamental change since the end of season 8 and this arc is not yet resolved. Powering him up even further will only hinder this character development arc, not assist it.

Remember how in 12x19 Cas made so many terrible decisions because he was so desperate “for a win” for both Dean and himself? Remember how in 13x05 we were screaming because Dean just wanted a win and then Cas showed up? Remember how in 13x06 Dean told Sam explicitly that Cas was his win?

Cas doesn’t need to be powerful for him to be needed and wanted by Dean (and Sam), but HE STILL DOESN’T KNOW THIS. NONE OF THIS HAS BEEN MADE CLEAR TO CAS. We still haven’t had a resolution to Cas’s own issues that were made so very clear in 12x09. That he doesn’t feel competent enough on his own.

This is why to power Cas up even further, or to keep him with his grace in tact, doesn’t really seem to fit the story structure. Cas needs to learn that its not his powers that make him special, its fundamentally HIM. It’s what he used to face the empty entity, its what brings a smile to Dean’s face whenever he’s around, it’s what made Jack choose him as his father (though not made explicitly clear, it is heavily implied that it was Castiel’s goodness that made Jack choose him - because Jack hardly needs protecting - more just the right kind of guidance).

It’s my opinion that Cas will choose to become human at endgame (or before who knows) because his grace is holding him back. Its not even about his obligations to heaven or the Winchesters, I personally don’t think he should lose all ties with all the angels, because I think there is still a lesson that the remaining angels need to learn here and that Cas will be the one to teach them (along with Jack). Its about Cas’s inner struggles and his personal growth, rather than the relationships he has with others. Its about Castiel finally asking himself “Who am I?” “What do I want?” “Where do I belong?” and answering those bloody questions. Perhaps he can answer those questions and keep his grace, its possible sure, but then all of that talk about human things in season 10 wouldn’t have made much sense, and Cas will always be missing something fundamental. The human things that he never got to really enjoy last time. The human pleasures that Dean revels in so much. I think it would be damn tragic to reach the end of his story and not have him indulging in the things we KNOW canonically he longs for.

Because as the Empty Entity said in 13x04

I have tiptoed through all your little tulips, your memories, your little feelings yes, I know what you hate, I know who you love, I know what you fear...

But remember that feelings, that love and fear, along with hope and dreams are human things and Castiel shouldn’t have to be always torn in two. Right now, that’s what he is. Half an angel, half a man, lost and conflicted. As far as I am concerned, Castiel becoming human answers all the questions the story has been asking him, and provides him with a level of happiness and satisfaction that he could never have whilst still an angel. For his own personal growth arc, imo its the only logical outcome.

I’m sorry if this isn’t what you wanted to hear nonny, but I am just trying to interpret this show logically with the information I have been given, and that all points to a human Cas endgame. As I said at the start of this post. I could be wrong. I could be interpreting all the wrong signals here, but the thing is, we meta writers are not a hive mind, and we sure as hell disagree on a LOT of things about this show, as we all have our own ways of interpreting things, but the majority of meta writers I follow also believe that Cas’s endgame is to be human and we all came to that conclusion individually based on information the show presented. Yes we could all still be wrong, and no I am not saying that any other opinions are incorrect because, and I stress this, all interpretations are valid. But please don’t get upset that I don’t agree with you over this. We just see things differently. You did ask for my opinion after all, so I gave it.

#Castiel #supernatural #spn meta #destiel #spn speculation #cas analysis #endgame speculation #endgame human!cas #angel!cas vs human!cas debate #my beautiful angel #my poor angel #dabb era #carver era #interpreting the text #asks #Anonymous

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