#If you couldn’t tell by my account theme this is about bobs and the fandom

[ell-begins]

being mad at an actor for something they have done is so so valid, you can be upset, you can be annoyed, but literally wishing death on someone? That makes you a horrible person, full stop. Publicly hating on people is pathetic in the first place, but constantly harassing someone, telling them you wish they would die, essentially telling someone to fucking kill themselves?? That makes you a terrible person, that makes you no better than the person you are hating on

you can bitch in private, everyone gossips, everyone talks and bitches and complains, and that’s fine, that’s normal. What is not normal is obsessing over an actor and persistently putting them down. actors are real people too, they are affected by what you say about them, they have feelings and get upset, just like you do.

I genuinely do not care how much you hate an actor, you are the problem if you do this - actors don’t deserve to be abused just because some people can’t have some decorum and respect

[gravelyhumerus]

Criminal Minds College AU

Fandom: Criminal Minds

Title: “I may just take your breath away”

Relationship: Jemily 

Summary:

Emily Prentiss, college sophomore, absolutely does not have a crush on the girl across the hall.  

Slow-burn Jemily college AU where they live across the hall and despite all odds, the universe pushes them together. AKA they’re silly gay babies who pine after each other for months. 

Read it on AO3

Tumblr:  One, Two, Three, Four, Five, Six, Seven, Eight, Nine, Ten, Eleven, Twelve, Thirteen, Fourteen, Fifteen, Sixteen, (bonus scene), Seventeen, Eighteen, Nineteen, Twenty, Epilogue

“Come in, it’s open!” Emily Prentiss yelled out over her music blasting out of the laptop on her desk. She was listening to her pregame playlist, which was chock full of throwbacks, middle-school jams and of course, The Killers to keep things interesting.

Derek Morgan pushed open her dorm room door and waltzed in. He had a pair of light blue jeans on, held up by a brown belt, with a white t-shirt on top. He jumped on top of Emily’s slightly-too-high bed, and bounced as he grinned at her. Derek was many things, shy was definitely not one of them.

“You look hot,” Emily said, with as much sarcasm as she could manage, looking him up and down. She could tell he dressed up.

“You know it, princess.”

Rifling through his backpack, he grinned as he pulled out two blue college-branded metal water bottles, filled with what was probably not water at all.

“I made us sangria!”

Emily laughed, then spun back around in her desk chair. She still needed to finish her makeup. She had her foundation and eyebrows done, but she needed to focus as she applied her eyeliner.

“Did you just mix some juice into the wine?” She asked, taking the bottle from him, having a sip of the fruity liquid.

“Yup! There’s going to be a keg there, but I wanted to give us options.”

Emily laughed before focusing on her mascara wand gliding across her lower eyelashes, trying to finish up so they could start preing for the party. She wasn’t quite dressed yet either, still wearing her class jeans and not her going out jeans (there was an important distinction between these that mostly involved whether or not she could wear them with a belt.) Morgan was about five minutes earlier than she expected. Moreover, the boy had only sprung the invitation to the party during their lab that afternoon.

As much as she hated to admit it, Derek was basically 90% of Emily’s non-academic social life, the second year boy already very well connected due to his football scholarship, letting him in on all of the good parties. Unfortunately that also meant for Emily that he would spring themed parties like anything but clothes, or no cups allowed on her with absolutely no heads up most weekends.

Emily will not wear a tote bag as a skirt again if she can help it.

Despite the excessive drinking and mixed bag of party attendees, Emily genuinely enjoyed the boy’s company. Anyways, he was the best beer-pong partner that she’s ever had.

“Can I hop on aux?” He asked, leaning over her computer before she could even protest.

“Sure,” she replied, knowing he was already on his own Spotify account and putting on his playlist titled ‘FOR THE BOYS and emily’ that he found hilarious. She knew she could get him to sing along to the Mamma Mia! (2008) soundtrack once he was a few shots in, but for now she resigned herself to wordless EDM.

He sat on her desk, bobbing his head along to the beat.

Emily reached into the bottom drawer of her desk and pulled out a smallish bottle of vodka and two shot glasses, with their college’s crest etched into the glass. For a school that denounced drinking-culture, they had a shocking amount of merch for sale that encouraged it.

She filled each to the line, and slid one towards her friend.

“Bottoms up,” she said, as they cheersed the foul tasting liquid. Morgan grinned and winked at her before shooting it back with the confidence that only a nineteen year old could have.

Vodka still made her queasy, but being underage meant that the college students would take what they could get. Morgan’s senior friends would boot alcohol for them for an extra five bucks, but only every few weeks.

The one thing about the states that Emily still couldn’t wrap her head around was the backwards alcohol policy. Almost everywhere else on earth she would already be legally drinking. Hell, when she was 16 she was passed out in a ditch in rural England, drunk off her ass on legally acquired beer. Even now, if they drove north of the border, Emily could be off to the bars, no questions asked. America was absurd.

“How was the rest of your day?” Emily asked him as she stood up, digging through her dirty laundry to find her other pair of jeans. She tossed aside her fuzzy pjs, a bra and an assortment of band tees but her jeans must’ve been at the bottom. She needed to do laundry but was ripe out of quarters.

“Eh,” he made a face, “I had to finish up that quiz for psych, but honestly I just needed to catch up on some readings. I had like fifty pages of a badly scanned book from like a hundred years ago to annotate.”

“Reading? In this economy?” Emily snarked at him, still rooting through the bin. She knew her blue jeans were here somewhere.

“Well I know you can’t read,” he replied in a haughty tone, “doesn’t mean the rest of us have to remain unenlightened!”

“Ha-ha.”

There they were, right at the bottom of the bin. She changed right then, with Morgan politely averting his eyes, despite the fact that both have seen just about everything in the year or so that they’ve been acquainted.

No, they didn’t hook up or anything, it wasn’t like that.

It was the strange phenomenon that only could happen in college where you get really close really fast. Emily’s RA had explained it to their first-year floor, likening it to soldiers in the war (Emily wasn’t sure if the metaphor was kosher, but it was apt.). Young adults first starting out in the world, free from their family supervision and previous lives, cling on to those around them for stability. The RA explained this as in a cautionary tale, explaining that this can lead to high emotions, to fights, and… a bit more.

This talk led into their floor-cest talk, which was apparently required in every co-ed dorm at their school. Emily was the first to point out the heteronormativity in that policy. Floor-cest, for the uninitiated, was the concept of hooking up with someone on your floor in the dorm. It was formally discouraged by residence life staff. It was easy to have meaningless sex, harder when you have sex with someone you live down the hall from. Things could get messy.

Emily and Derek got this talk on move in day, both sitting cross-legged on the floor of their common room as their RA, a bubbly girl named Carol, explained the fundamentals of dorm life. Emily has been dropped off by her mother’s driver, who helped her unload her things.

Emily was still reeling from being surrounded by happy families, of crying parents and bitter that her mother was too busy to even send her own daughter off to school. Not that Emily wanted her there or anything, but the gesture would have been nice.

She remembered the startling moment when Derek walked straight into her room and offered his hand, introducing himself to his new neighbour.

They shared a wall, the co-ed bathroom down the hall, and most of their free time for their first year at college.

He had assumed that the driver, Paul who was one of Emily’s favourites out of her mother’s staff, was Emily’s father, which started things off on an awkward note. Soon she was swept up in a whirlwind of his family: his mom and sisters who insisted that Emily pose for photos of Derek and ‘his new dorm friend.’

A year later, Emily and Morgan were basically siblings. Emily didn’t actually have any siblings, but after going to Chicago for thanksgiving with the Morgan family, she was pretty sure she had officially been adopted.

Last year, they had a much nicer dorm, one of the newer ones with big windows and nice common spaces. This year they were both living in the oldest residence, a beautiful red brick building, covered with ivy, but the inside was all painted this gross beige, and the paint would chip off whenever Emily tried to hang her posters. There was also no air conditioning, the showers didn’t get too hot and the kitchen smelt like eggs. It was definitely a downgrade, but at least Morgan was on the same floor as her again.

Morgan had lucked out and gotten a corner room with tons of windows, and Emily was right next to the bathroom and could hear when anyone flushed.

After donning the jeans and a black tank top, Emily grabbed her leather jacket and they were ready to go.

“Another shot?” Derek asked, grinning at her mischievously.

“Of course,” Emily said. “Where are we even going anyways?”

“Well, you remember David, the TA from our psych lab? His housemates are throwing a party in their backyard. I heard there was going to be a DJ!”

“David Rossi?” Emily said incredulously, “How did you swing an invite to that?”

“I can’t reveal all of my secrets, you know that pretty lady.”

Emily scoffed. It was probably through their mutual friend Aaron Hotchner, who despite not being much of a partier, was very in the loop about the happenings on campus.

“Did you invite you know who?” Derek asked, a bit too casually as Emily locked her door.

Emily refused to bite.

“She definitely has better things to do than hang out with the likes of us.”

---

“I’m a criminology major,” Emily repeated, the exasperation in her voice palatable.

The boy, who was on the rugby team as she already learned, had asked her what her major was. He misheard her and began asking her how she likes studying biology.

The music was loud and the boy was clearly wasted off his ass. She was pretty sure she saw him do a keg stand in the kitchen earlier.

Emily took another sip of her drink, keeping it close to her chest. She looked around. They were only five minutes off campus at a decent-sized student house. The room was close to being at capacity, the old home creaking under the weight of dozens of students crammed into the living room. Music blared on a strangely impressive speaker system. The party was at its peak in the backyard, and was probably only an hour from being shut down by the cops if it got much louder.

Emily had carefully positioned herself next to the open window, enjoying the slight breeze as the body heat was making the old house steamy with humidity. This also happened to be the location of the bong, but she accepted the trade-off.

Derek was currently playing king’s cup, a game Emily refuses to play, since last time she got roped into it she lost miserably. She was forced to drink the king’s cup: a mixture of shitty beer, whiskey, cider wine and whole cream from the fridge, as she had been a bit too slow with bouncing the ball into the red solo cup. Derek held her hair back as she puked off the porch that night.

Never again.

Emily squinted as a few people she recognized walked into the room. It was only a month into classes, so she really hadn’t had the opportunity to get to know the new random assortment of people in her building, lectures and in her general orbit but she was pretty sure she was starting to recognize some faces.

Entering the party was the blonde from the end of the hallway who always complimented Emily on her outfits when she passed and had the most colourfully decorated dorm in the entire building. ‘Penelope G.’ read her name tag pinned to her door in their RA’s loopy handwriting.

Next to her was a younger boy that she had seen in the cafeteria with Penelope before, and while Emily wasn’t that good at identifying ages, he definitely looked a bit too young to be at college. He was tall, skinny and had a mop of unruly brown hair. He was also wearing a sweater to a house party, which was a major beginners mistake. He looked around nervously.

A few seconds later, the door closed, only dumping an assortment of other boys into the already packed house.

Emily let out a breath she didn’t know she held, as she found herself hoping that Garcia’s other friend might have been joining her that night.

Derek had teased her already about the girl across the hall. Jennifer Jareau. “My friends call me JJ,” she had said. Second year varsity soccer player and communications major. The girl Derek was convinced that Emily had a crush on.

JJ was the kind of girl who propped her door open during orientation week and always waved at Emily when she walked down the hall.

She did not have a crush. She barely knew anything about her besides that she was blonde, athletic and was always smiling. Both had been so busy since school had started, and seemed to have completely opposite schedules that they hadn’t really gotten to really connect.

Whenever Emily was coming back to their floor, JJ always seemed to be leaving. And vice versa. Somehow they were on exact opposite schedules. Probably since JJ was a varsity soccer player with early morning practise, and Emily was a bit of a night owl (that was a polite way of saying insomniac procrastinator perfectionist.)

She seemed to hang out with Garcia around residence, Emily having spotted the two getting coffee or studying in the library together occasionally, hence Emily’s hopes that Garcia may have JJ in tow that evening.

JJ was also definitely, one hundred percent, completely straight. Fairy lights and Polaroid pictures on her walls straight. She even had a high school sweetheart that might survive the turkey dumping season. Emily didn’t know his name but JJ said the key word early on in the year: boyfriend.

Emily turned back to the boy in front of her, who was describing, in detail, how the stock market worked, without realizing that Emily was not paying attention at all.

He was quite conventionally attractive, with mussed curly hair and broad shoulders. He obviously was interested in her—or rather interested in talking at her and potentially sleeping with her—that despite herself, Emily decided to slot him into her roster for that evening.

Emily considered herself a reluctant bisexual. Women could make her heart skip a beat just by looking in her direction, and men could get it when the situation was right and she didn’t have any other options. The second half of this pleased her mother to no end, as when young fourteen year old Emily Prentiss had decided to come out to her mother—at one of their rare dinners together—she watched her mother grit her teeth and tell her to keep that to herself. Her mother had eventually accepted this part of her daughter’s life, but only under the assumption that Emily would eventually end up with a man, and keep the rest to herself.

Emily looked around the room and wondered if she was going to have any other options that evening besides the very talkative boy.

Excusing herself from the company of…Matthew, she thinks was his name, she tries to find Derek, who had disappeared into the kitchen. Emily weaved through the crowd, steering past a couple making out in the corner.

She turned the corner and found Derek filling his cup with more beer from the keg. He grinned up at her and did the same for her.

“I hate beer,” Emily said to him, grimacing at the scratchy taste of the fermented barley in her red solo cup.

“Suck it up buttercup, you’re in college. You also complained about the juice from earlier.”

“Yeah well, watering down eleven percent wine is as bad as this five percent crap.”

“It did taste a lot better,” he agreed. “Who was that guy?”

Emily rolled her eyes.

“Matthew attempted to explain macroeconomics to me.”

“Oh god, is that what men are like out there?” He asked. “Guess you’re stuck with me tonight.”

“Lucky me.”

“Pong?” He asked, gesturing towards the row of tables set up in the backyard, through the open door and passed the crowd milling about near the speakers. The game seemed to be wrapping up, as the two teams shook hands and reset the cups to their original positions.

“Always.”

They found their spot at one of the tables across from their new opponents: Penelope and her very young looking friend.

“Penelope Garcia?” Derek grinned, recognizing the girl from their floor and walking up to her for a hug. Their rooms were facing each other, and they had apparently gotten the chance to get to know each other.

She grinned and hugged him, clearly a lot more sober than him having only arrived minutes earlier. There seemed to be a lot of hugging at house parties, Emily discovered when she moved to America, acquaintances became close friends once alcohol was involved.

She had bright pink glasses and a matching dress, with bright artfully done make-up highlighting her large smile. Emily knew that she was a CompSci major and had loaded her dorm room desk with monitors and the largest computer set-up that Emily had seen in her life.

“Derek, my love,” Penelope replied, gushing over Emily’s friend in an unexpected, but not unsurprising way. “Fancy meeting you here! And Emily! Have you two met my fine young friend here, Spencer?”

She gestured to the boy, who waved awkwardly.

“Hi, I’m Spencer Reid,” he said.

“He’s like a boy-genius or something. He already has a degree in mathematics and he’s currently working on his second degree in engineering. Isn’t that très cool? We met at the club fair last week.”

“I’m double majoring in philosophy,” he added.

“How old are you kid?” Morgan asked him, quick to the punch.

“Uh- sixteen?” Spencer seemed to ask, shrinking into himself a bit. “I skipped a couple of grades.”

He had a pair of glasses perched on his nose, a brown sweater with a white shirt collar poking through and had tucked his brown hair behind his ears. He was still taller than Penelope, but the smattering of acne and wide eyes made it clear that he was very much a kid.

“More than a couple!” Morgan exclaimed.

He shrugged.

“Are you in intro to logic with Williams?” Emily asked, realizing that she had recognized him from somewhere.

“Yes, I am. Though I find his repeated chess metaphors a touch reductive.”

“You’re right about that. Like, we get it Willy, you play chess. Big whoop,” Emily said, then introduced herself.

He smiled at her, slightly less awkwardly this time but with a touch more confusion.

“And this is Derek Morgan,” Penelope piped in, “the most gorgeous football player I know.”

“Do you know any other football players?” Spencer asked.

“Now you hush!” She admonished him. “We have a game to play.”

“Do you two have something to drink?” Derek asked them, moving back towards their side of the long fold-up table, which was crudely painted in their schools colours.

Emily took a sip of her beer, wondering if the boy should be drinking.

Penelope babbled about how it was Spencer’s first college party, and how she was so excited that it was this one because look at the pretty string lights decorating the backyard and the fact that there was a keg, like in the movies.

Smiling at her new neighbour, Emily thought that this might also be Penelope's first college party.

Derek returned with a cup of water for Spencer, and some beer for Penelope. Spencer seemed relieved at the gesture, smiling as he took a sip. Emily marvelled at her friend's kindness, despite what anyone said about drinking culture on campuses either way, it was tough to attend a party and not drink, putting his drink in a matching red cup gave him the appearance of participation.

“Do we all know the rules?” Derek asked.

“The question you should ask,” Emily said, “Is if they’re willing to play by your rules.”

Emily had discovered that this game, depending on the people you were playing with, had radically different rules. While the premise of the game remained the same: there were six cups on each side of the table, into which you threw ping pong balls and whenever you got a ball in a cup, that cup was then taken out of the picture until there were no cups left. Depending on who you were playing with, the cups were filled with water or beer (Emily hated when they had beer in them, it make things sticky and it was very unsanitary), there were specific rules to what defined an airball, when one could get balls back, when you could call island and what was a permissible trick shot.

“Ha ha Prentiss,” Derek said to her, rolling the ping pong ball in his hands. “I wanted to know if they had played before.”

“Oh I’ve played before,” Penelope said, “and I am unbeatable.”

She waggled her fingers in a gesture that implied magic was involved.

“It’s simple physics,” Spencer added, “I’ve memorized the rules and common approaches. We’ll be more than fine. ”

“Ok pretty boy, let’s see what you’ve got. Eye to eye?”

Looking into each other’s eyes, rather than at their targets, the two boys aimed at the cups, with only Reid’s making it in.

“What the fuck Morgan,” Emily exclaimed as Penelope and Spencer whooped, “what even was that throw?”

With the other team having won the privilege of starting first, Emily was forced to toss her ball towards Penelope, who took it with a grin.

She threw first, missing the table entirely.

“Air ball!” Derek announced, leaping forward and waving his hands in front of the cups on their side, the rules granting him the ability to defend their territory.

Spencer frowned, apparently perturbed by this turn of events. He stuck out his tongue, aimed, and launched the ball, hitting Morgan right in the chest. The ball bounced off of it and fell straight down into the cup.

Derek’s draw dropped. Spencer and Penelope whooped in excitement.

“Derek, how did you lose us that cup?” Emily whined, pulling one of their cups to the side. One point to Spencer.

Derek, who had something to prove, lined up his shot. He gazed at his targets with the focus of a sniper, dunked the ball into one of their cups, dousing it with water, and rolled it in his hands, giving it a bit more weight. He aimed and fired off a quick shot into the centre-left cup. It spun around in the cup, floating above the water, but fell in. If the other team were crafty, they would have blown into the cup and Derek would have lost the point, but Emily sighed in relief when she realized that despite their first point, they didn’t know the rules well enough to beat the current reigning beer champs.

It was Emily’s turn. She took a gulp of her beer—she would always swear she was better when she was drunk because she didn’t think too hard about it—and threw. It neatly fell into the back right cup, scoring them two points for that round.

“Balls back!” Derek roared in delight.

Penelope tossed them, and the game continued.

They sunk one more shot on their turn. 3-1.

Penelope got another cup, Spencer missed. 3-2.

Derek’s ball bounced out, Emily sank hers. 4-2.

Only minutes later, after playing at breakneck speed, there were three cups left on the table and Derek and Emily were quite drunk, with Penelope not far behind. Reid, still very sober, was matching the duo with intense concentration.

It was his throw, with two cups left until his victory. He shots carefully, sinking it without a splash.

Derek and Emily had one cup to go. He went first, sending one barreling towards the cup. It hit the rim and instead of going in, it bounced towards Emily, who leaped forward and grabbed it before it fell off the table.

“Trick shot!” She yelled. Derek could try again, but only if he does it in an inventive way. At the frat house they spent a lot of time in first year, the only acceptable trick shot (under this house’s rules) was bouncing the ball off a poster of Obama. This time, Derek takes an empty cup, puts the ball in, and uses the cup to aim.

Somehow, it went in.

They leap into the air, yelling with delight. But they hadn’t won yet. The other team still had a redemption shot.

“How ya feeling kid?” Derek taunted, “Wanna give up now, save yourself the embarrassment?”

“Not a chance.”

He squinted at the table, lining up his shot with precision. With his left hand he licked his finger, sticking it up in the air like golfers do to measure the wind. Emily wasn't sure if this was a joke, something to psych Derek out, or something the boy was genuinely able to do. He frowned, seeming to ponder the information.

He aimed. He tossed it. He sunk the redemption shot.

They were in overtime.

“You can do it princess,” Derek told her, watching her with utmost intensity. Emily adjusted her stance, chugging back the last of that glass of beer, feeling the alcohol with greater focus than before.

She glanced around at the other team, but out of the corner of her eye she caught a familiar face looking at her: Jennifer Jareau from residence. Her not crush.

She was looking at her. Watching her play.

A swell of nervousness flooded up through her lungs, and she forced it out by huffing a breath.

She needed another drink. Moreover, she needed to focus.

Emily threw it. If it made it in, then they won. If she missed, Spencer and Garcia had another shot at redemption. They couldn’t lose this, not now, not in front of… uh, everyone. She was definitely not thinking about JJ in this situation. That would be something a frat boy thought about. She didn’t want to win beer pong to impress some girl, she wanted to win because she had pride.

The ball sailed through the air, Emily held her breath. It caught the lip of the cup, teetered. A splash announced that they had won.

Thank god.

With a whoop, realizing what they had done, Emily and Derek roared with joy, jumping into each other and hugging in their celebration. A few onlookers clapped, noticing how close the game had been.

They pulled apart and reached out their hands to their opponents.

“Great game,” Emily said, shaking Spencer's hand, “Really.”

He grinned despite his loss.

“Honestly I understand the principles, it’s simple parabolas and high-school level physics,” he frowned, “Unfortunately, I need to work on translating those parabolas into the real world.”

“We’ll work on it Spence,” Garcia grinned, shaking Emily’s hand while smiling at her younger friend.

Emily realized that in their celebration, Derek had spilled quite a bit of beer onto Emily’s sleeve and down the side of her shirt and it was currently dripping onto her boots. Emily sighed, handing her friend her cup.

“I’ve got beer all over me,” Emily sighed, “Get me a refill? I’m going to try to find a bathroom.”

Derek nodded and turned back to their new friends, chatting about how impressed he was with their game.

Emily felt a bit sticky, feeling the beer coat her bare arm. Walking back into the house, she glanced at the kitchen sink trying to see if there was any paper towel or something there, but no luck. The sink was full of dishes, the counters covered in assorted empties and cups, without a dishcloth in sight. Not wanting to rifle through their drawers, she made her way towards the staircase.

There was a couple making out on the staircase, which was not something Emily would do herself. It seemed a bit precarious since alcohol was involved, but, to each their own, she thought. Emily opened a couple of the doors upstairs before discovering one of the most disgusting washrooms she’d ever seen.

There was only one thing in the shower: dawn dish soap. The boys who lived here must use that for their bodies. Emily shuddered. On the sink were some toothbrushes, razors and some floss, but for some reason, no soap. Emily found a roll of toilet paper on the floor (ew), and wadded it up to try to reduce the wet spot on her side and hopefully from smelling like a brewery when she returned to residence.

For a moment, Emily found herself gazing at herself in the mirror, feeling hazy and a bit unsteady. She checked her make-up, noting that her dark red lipstick was holding up, but her mascara had smudged under her eyes giving her more of a goth vibe than the alt look she typically went for.

Emily sat down on the tub, patting the toilet paper against her wet clothing, feeling very drunk now that she was seated. Dammit Morgan, couldn’t he have spilled his beer on himself instead of her nice shirt?

The thud of the music was muffled, but there was a ringing in her ears that made everything feel very quiet. That was until there was a thundering of footsteps and the sound of a girl announcing: “I’m going to vom, right now.”

Emily sat, jaw dropped, as a red headed girl threw open the bathroom door, kneeled down on the floor next to the toilet, and relieved herself from the contents of her stomach without so much as a knock. The girl coughed into the bowl, yacking up what was probably way too much beer for the poor tiny girl.

“Oh my gosh,” said another voice, at the door, “I’m so sorry. We didn’t realize there was someone here! ”

Emily looked up, realizing the voice came from no other than Jennifer Jareau.

“JJ!” Emily said, not really knowing what else to do with the girl heaving at her feet.

“You ok?” JJ kneeled down next to her friend, carefully pulling her friend’s long hair back, tugging a hair tie off her own wrist and collecting it so that it didn’t get anything on it.

Emily felt stupid sitting on the tub, not helping anything. She tossed the rest of the toilet paper in the garbage, placing the half-empty roll on the edge of the tub.

“Can I get her some water?” Emily asked, “To rinse her mouth?”

JJ looked up at her and nodded. Emily felt herself blushing slightly as she turned away. Who let one girl’s eyes be so big, and so blue. It was rude.

She returned a minute later having had to rinse her own beer cup out in the gross kitchen sink to make sure that she wasn’t accidentally giving this girl some random person's sketchy cup.

Emily remembered that earlier Derek said that it was a varsity party, so it did make sense that JJ was also in attendance. The whole team probably was. The other girl looked like a soccer player, she had that vibe.

Emily handed the cup to JJ, who gave her a grateful smile. Emily felt their fingers touch for a moment, before JJ turned to attend to her friend.

She tried to get her to take a sip, and Emily took the moment to look JJ up and down, taking in her light blue skinny jeans, black tank and high heeled boots. She was basically wearing the uniform of a straight white girl at a houseparty. Not to say Emily wasn’t also basically wearing the same outfit, pairing the jeans with combat boots and attempting to set herself apart with her black nail polish and eyeliner that her mother once called ‘a lot.’

In contrast to Emily’s fairly undefined thin body, she took note of the strong looking shoulders that flexed as JJ kneeled down on the floor. She was definitely an athlete. Emily looked away, checking her phone, feeling suddenly embarrassed for looking at the girl.

‘Where u go bbg????’ Read a new message from Derek.

‘Girl puknigh up hre’ Emily typed, ‘Got her waterr’

Emily blinked at her typos, pressing the red underlined words, hoping her phone would correct them for her. She wasn’t that drunk.

The two girls were talking quietly, and Emily decided to take her leave, but before she could the red-head beat her to the punch deciding that she wanted to puke in peace.

“Leave me aloooooonnne Jennifer,” she wined. “Get out, I don’t want any more fucking water.”

JJ pulled back, making a face and holding her hands up in the ‘I surrender’ motion. Emily hurried out into the hall with JJ on her heels. The girl kicked the door shut angrily, and the sound of her retching ensued.

“There was a funnel,” JJ offered as an explanation. She leaned against the door. “How has your night been?”

Emily blinked. JJ was making conversation. She didn’t want Emily to leave just yet.

“So far so good,” Emily replied. “Doing better than your friend, at least.”

“That’s not hard to do. So I guess you didn’t chug from a funnel yet?” JJ quipped, smiling and revealing a perfect, white smile.

“Oh I have that scheduled for one-thirty, actually,” Emily said, pretending to check her watch and grinning.

“Let me know before you do, I’d like to watch that,” JJ said casually.

A wave of heat rushed to Emily’s face as she realized that drinking from a funnel would entail Emily on her knees, with JJ watching her… a thought that she needed to push out of her brain immediately.

“I’ll have you know,” Emily said in retort, “I can chug amongst the best. I am no stranger to these sorts of parties.”

JJ grinned. “Oh yeah?”

“I’m a reigning beer pong champ, I’ll have you know.”

They laughed.

“I saw your last victory. Very impressive.”

JJ, in a controlled fall, slid down the door and sat down in the hall, resigning herself to waiting for her friend. Emily wondered if she should return to Morgan now, but unable to tear herself away from the opportunity for a conversation with JJ.

“I’m awful at pong,” the blonde admitted. “I miss every time.”

“You probably just need a good teacher.”

JJ raised her eyebrows, “oh yeah?”

“I mean,” Emily said, sitting down onto the top step of the staircase, facing her floormate, “it’s all about hand eye coordination. It’s basically a sport. You need a coach.”

They both laughed.

“Well if that’s the case, why don’t you teach me?”

Emily gulped.

The door opened, and JJ fell back slightly before catching herself.

“I’m going home,” JJ’s friend announced.

JJ looked up at her dishevelled friend and nodded, turning back to look at Emily apologetically.

“Another time?” Emily offered, smiling before walking down the stairs and rejoining the party.

Next chapter ->

[nikkalia]

Pops in the Park

TITLE: Pops in the Park

AUTHOR: Nikkalia

PAIRING: Tom/OFC

RATING: M

SUMMARY: This is the result of a conversation on Discord about Loki!Tom crashing a concert. It went downhill from there... Dedicated to my darling @igotloki

NOTES/WARNINGS: (kinks, triggers, general warnings.) Smut, which is really difficult to write in first person for some reason...

TAGS: @igotloki @fandom-and-feminism @mrshiddleston-uk @fadingcoast @mischievousbellerina 

NOTES: Someone remind me to fix the hashtags later?

“Ladies and gentlemen, thank you for coming... No,” I whispered to no one. Speeches make me nervous and you could definitely hear it in my voice. “Ladies and gentlemen, thank you so much for joining us tonight...this evening. Ugh, why do they make me do this?”

“Because Anthony Daniels canceled when it wasn’t all about Star Wars,” Mike answered, grinning. “Relax, you’ve got this.”

“No respect from my concertmaster,” I smirked as he clapped my shoulder.

“So, is the magic man making an appearance tonight?”

“Nope. He’s otherwise occupied.”

Mike laughed. “What does that even mean?”

I shrugged. “It means...he won’t be here.”

“Oh, come on. He can’t pull away from whatever he’s filming for one night to celebrate your 5 year anniversary with us? Loser.”

“Whatever.” I blew out a sigh and looked back over my notes. “Really hate speeches.”

“See, magic man should’ve been here. He likes to talk and the ladies love to listen.” Mike winked and got a smack on the arm for his trouble before wandering off.

He wasn’t wrong. Tom loved to talk and everyone loved his voice, not just the ladies. In the two plus years we've been together, I’d never known him to refuse an opportunity to tell a story - except to hear me tell one. He was the only man I’d ever met that could listen as intently as he does, to make you feel like the entire universe centered around you. Management had actually approached his agent about serving as emcee when Daniels backed out, and they declined, citing a previous commitment. Which was, at the time, a bald-faced lie.

We argued about the timing of this show only a few days prior to the request because the concert was so close to our own anniversary. He had, in typical Tom fashion, made some grand plans involving travel and luxuries and all the things that drove my simplistic heart manic with worry, and hadn’t bothered to check the concert calendar. So, when I told him I couldn’t blow off the fund-raising event of the season, he went ballistic.

And I fired back. How dare he get upset when he’d canceled God knows how many times in favor of an audition? Where did he get off saying that one night wasn’t as important as ‘us’ when he’d confused night after night for his career? It turned really ugly and I ended up flying back to New York earlier than planned because of it. We didn’t speak for a week, and all of our communication after that was strained. Six weeks later, I stopped hearing from him altogether, despite assurances from his mother and sisters that we were still very much a couple. He was deep in some remote area with no wireless signal, they said. I sighed, pushing back tears.  

“Two minutes to curtain. Oh, and I’m supposed to tell you that an emcee has been located. You’re off the hook.” a stagehand told me.

“Thank you, God!”

I found Mike walking toward me, making sure everyone was ready to go.

“Conductor,” he nodded, a glint of mischief in his eye.

“Concertmaster,” I nodded back, grinning. Our pre-show ritual complete, he returned to his place in the lineup and the procession began with the welcoming announcement. I watched from the wings as the line of bodies filed into their seats to thunderous applause. The house looked to be full. “Must be doing something right,” I said to the stagehand.

A hush fell over the crowd, followed by the sound of a solid A from Mike. The strings followed, then woodwinds, brass. Mike nodded again. I nodded back, then to the stagehand, who gave his own cue to the booth. I took a deep breath, prayed a little prayer, and strode out on the stage as the house announcer introduced me. I bowed, gesturing to the musicians who were doing all of the real work tonight, and smiled.

“Ladies and gentlemen, please welcome to the stage our master of ceremonies for the evening, mister Robert Downey, Jr.”

Bob strode out to the center of the stage, grinning from ear to ear.

I shot the dirtiest look to Mike, mouthing, “You knew.”

He shrugged, then smiled. Jackass.

“Maestra, you look stunning,” I heard beside me. He leaned in for a cheek-to-cheek kiss, lingering a little longer than maybe he should have. “He misses you,” he finally whispered, pulling away.

“Then he should be here.” I croaked. Poor Bob, reduced to a mere messenger boy. “Shall we?”

Being the gentleman that he is, Robert led me to the platform, holding my hand as I made the tiny step up, then returned to the podium on the other side of the stage.

I reviewed the first few measures of the music in front of me while Robert began his speech. He told the audience of his love for the music we would begin the performance with, the “John Williams Suite”. It was an orchestration I’d been working on for months, often to Tom’s frustration. Sheet music tended to consume the kitchen table in my loft apartment, something that was not at all conducive to his attempts to cook for me. I smiled as we began with ‘Indiana Jones’ themes, recalling a particular incident where he walked into the apartment completely unannounced, arms overloaded with grocery bags to find the table had been covered with scores from half a dozen films. He just sighed and went into the kitchen to begin cooking. Another meal on the sofa, he lamented. I simply kept on writing, struggling to get the transition between ‘E.T.’ and ‘Jurassic Park’ just right.

The music followed into the Star Wars medley. Lost in memory, I had to pull myself together enough to get through the rest of the piece. ‘Duel of the Fates’ was no joke to perform, much less conduct. Some of the choir members referred to it as the marathon. The horn players laughed at them until I reminded them that this was the reason why I stretched my arms before every rehearsal. Tom knew when rehearsals were intense by the way I held my shoulders afterward. He’d always massage the muscles, wondering if I was perhaps a bit too animated in my conducting. I’d always ask if he was perhaps a bit too animated when he read the Saint Crispin’s speech. That’s usually when the tickling started.

After a few moments pause for the audience to show their appreciation, and for the orchestra to move sheet music around, we moved into a mix of old and new Star Trek themes, ending with the suite from Into Darkness. There has been a great deal of debate within the group as to which series - old or new - was better, followed by discussions of films, actors, approaches, and which made my little geeky heart happy. Tom had no comment on the matter, despite the fact that his eyes lit up a little more when we opted to watch Ben’s version of Khan instead of the original.

The piece finished and Robert began rambling on about music and film and... I stopped paying attention after a few seconds, focusing again on the upcoming music. One of the stagehands appeared on my right and placed a wireless mic on the music stand. I put it on, thinking I would be expected to say a few words about my time with the orchestra, what an honor it was, blah blah blah.

Celebrate yourself, Tom would say. If anyone deserves accolades, it’s you. My response was almost always, “yeah, whatever,” which would send him into a 20-minute monologue extolling my virtues as a musician and human. I’ve always preferred to let the music speak for itself.

I heard Robert say “This is gonna be fun,” and knew we were up. I’d arranged a medley of Queen songs - Somebody to Love, I’m Going Slightly Mad, Days of Our Lives, and Bohemian Rhapsody. When Mike saw the score for the first time, he asked if I was okay. I just wasn’t ready to discuss the argument, so I brushed the question off with a shrug. “Feeling nostalgic,” I told him. “Besides, I want to show the altos some love.”

The altos later told me that was not the kind of love they were looking for. The sopranos, however, were ecstatic. Divas, the whole lot of them.

Music from the MCU finished out the evening. Black Panther, Thor, Captain Marvel, and all the Avengers films wrapped into 10 minutes. It was supposed to be for Tom. I’d seriously contemplated scrapping the whole section after the fight but the entire orchestra vetoed the idea, citing it as the “entertaining” piece of the evening. I knew that if the musicians weren’t happy, no one was happy, so it stayed but they just wanted to play Immigrant Song.

We’d moved through to ‘Portals’ from the Endgame soundtrack and I could feel the energy of the audience change. They started shouting and clapping behind me. Maybe they’re loving the music with the latest movie having been released. We reached the scripted pause, and I kept going, but the orchestra doesn’t. They just sat there staring at me, and I was suddenly aware of “Loki” being chanted behind me. I glared at Mike, who’s grinning like the Cheshire Cat. That’s when the glint of gold caught my eye. I turned, finally dropping my arms when my mouth follows suit.

Loki, or Tom, in full Loki regalia, strode toward me like a demi-god possessed. The horns sat above smoldering eyes, cape flowing behind him as he approached me like an animal stalking his prey. It took every ounce of self-control I had not to pounce on him in front of God and the globe. I never could resist that costume, and he knew it. Instead, I simply crossed my arms.

“Please,” he growled, the swagger growing, “don’t stop on my account. Summon your Avengers.”

“Bad enough you destroy half of Manhattan with some half-baked scheme to take over the world. Now, you have the audacity to crash my gig and interrupt their music?”

He stopped short, head cocking to one side. I don’t think he was entirely sure if I was serious or just playing along. The infamous smile returned.

“Forgive me. The interruption of the arts is indeed a sin, but the purpose behind my visit warrants such sacrilege.” When I didn’t answer, he removed his helmet, eliciting a new wave of cheers from the crowd. His hair was its natural ginger, long and wildly out of control. He turned to them and held a finger to his goateed lips, a la 2013’s Comic-Con visit before placing the helmet on the stage.

“I have found myself lamenting the loss of something very dear to me of late. Something that I believe you alone can help me recover.” He paused, his voice echoing through the speakers while his hands fell to his sides. “It pains me to admit such shortcomings, but I find that I am weaker without you, that I am lost without your presence in my life. I am heartbroken at each day that passes without the sound of your voice. So,” his cloak flew behind him with a flourish and he fell to one knee. A collective gasp came from the audience and the stage. “My lady, would you consider restoring to me the grace of your life and your love on a permanent basis?”

What the hell is happening? I glanced over at Mike. He and the rest of the orchestra are literally sitting on the edge of their seats. When I turn back to Tom, his arm is extended towards me, a small box with a ring sitting in the palm of his hand. Tom, channeling Loki, channeling King Hal. I was doomed.  

“Will you consent to be my queen and my love? Will you marry me?”

His head dropped and my heart leaped into my throat. Time seemed to slow to a crawl while I recalled every fight, every laugh, every moment of passion and joy and sorrow. How could I possibly say yes? How could I not?

The soft sound of a camera lens focusing on me snapped me out of my time stop. He was still on bended knee, his arm shaking a bit. I stepped off of the platform and lifted his chin. For all his eloquence, I could only come up with a single word response.

“Yes.”

Tom jumped to his feet and kissed me as everyone within earshot roared with approval. ‘All I Ask of You’ began to play and I made a mental note to fire then promote Mike later, as I was sure he’d been part of this plot all along. A moment passed in his arms before he finally stepped back, scooping up the golden horns.

“I shall be waiting with white horses, my queen.”

“And here I thought you’d want me to play you out.”

“As long as it’s not ‘Performance Issues’.”

“No promises.” I winked then stepped back onto the platform. “Ladies and gentlemen, shall we skip to the end?” Mike nodded and everyone found their page. I raised my hands and music from the Avengers theme rang out in the park.

Tom bowed to me before he slid the helmet back over his head, turned and walked to the side of the stage where Robert stood, raising his hands in victory when applause followed. I caught them embracing out of the corner of my eye and knew I’d have to give both of them grief later for the first glimpse of ‘FrostIron.’

We made it to the loft long after the final note sounded. There had been a sea of people congratulating me on the concert, the engagement, and everything in between. Tom vanished long enough to de-Loki, much to my disappointment, but stayed right next to me for the rest of the night. When we were finally able to leave, he ushered me out to a white Jag. White horses, indeed.

He zipped through the streets of Manhattan with ease, taking as many backroads as possible to avoid traffic. I took the time to get a good look at the ring, and oh God was it stunning. A large oval stone set on its side with two smaller stones at either end set in a band of polished silver knotwork. Definitely handcrafted and a perfect fit.

“The band’s tungsten. I know how hard you are on jewelry,” Tom said with a wink.”The stones are moldavite, amethyst, and garnet.” he glanced over, a smile on his face. “Us.”

“It’s perfect,” I blushed a little, hoping he wouldn’t notice. “And you’re a dork of the highest caliber.”

That little laugh that drives all the ladies crazy slipped out as he nodded and pulled into the parking garage. Our elevator ride was silent as the family that snuck in just as the doors were closing bombarded Tom with more questions about Loki than I’d ever come up with. It made me think we’d have to take the service elevator from now on.

All thoughts of anything beyond the man wrapped around me vanished as soon as the apartment door closed. Tom spun me around, planting a kiss that went from chaste to passion in point zero six seconds. I heard my keys hit the floor after I missed the end table. He growled when I tried to pick them up, nipping a little harder at my neck, pushing me toward the bedroom.

We were all hands trying to shed clothes on the way. You’d think that as much coordination we had individually, we’d be able to make it look as graceful as it did in the movies. The poor boy got so frustrated that he picked me up, carried me down the hallway, and dropped me on the bed. Shoes and socks off, he stepped closer to unzip my dress while I worked on his pants. The ‘conda sprang free as soon as the zipper fell. Another growl came from above when I wrapped my hand around it, morphing into a moan as when lips added.

The bed dipped to one side a little with the weight of his leg. His hands rested on my shoulders as he tried to steady himself while I rolled my tongue around his cock. I couldn’t see his eyes with his head leaned back, but knew he was lost in the sensations, his hips rocking back and forth. He pulled out suddenly, tugged my hands away and upward to my feet.

Another kiss, slower and more passionate while he finally figured out the zipper of my gown. His hands moved the fabric down, and the frustrated moan came when he remembered just how much effort went into making slinky black dresses look good. He nuzzled and nipped his way across my face and down my neck while he fumbled with the clasps of my bra. I returned the favor, dragging teeth along his neck until I was able to get his shirt open.  

What was left of my clothing dropped to the floor in one swift motion when Tom dropped to his knees, pushing me back onto the bed. I slid up the mattress and he followed, kissing and licking his way up my legs. He stopped at my hips, licking upward along the inside of my thigh but never quite made it to the center.

“If all you’re gonna do is tease,” I panted, “then get up here.”

“You would deny me the pleasure of devouring your already dripping quim?” Loki’s voice followed the dark, lust filled eyes that looked up at me. Before I could wrap my brain around my impending demise by god-lust, a finger slid inside me, followed by another. The smirk became a grin and he lowered his mouth to my clit, his eyes never leaving mine.

He growled again as he began to suck, slowly pumping his ridiculously long fingers in and out of my pussy. I tried to squirm away when he picked up the pace and he wrapped his free arm around my leg, locking me in place. I lost count of how many times he brought me to the edge only to back off and begin again. My fingers found their way into his hair, tugging him upward, only to be rewarded with his teeth dragging across my swollen bud.

“Not until you cum,” he purred, still latched on to me. He began thrusting the fingers inside me, curling them around to brush against that little bundle of nerves while he clamped down with lips and teeth. It didn’t take long for my body to shatter beneath him, my orgasm tearing its way out of me with a scream. He anchored me down with both arms, sucking out every last drop I could offer.

When I came back to reality, he was making a slow path up my body, his breath hot on my skin. His lips finally reached mine and I took rough possession of them, wanting to taste him. The tip of his cock brushed against my pussy and I shivered. Tom pulled away a bit.

“Need a bit longer to recover?” he whispered, nuzzling against my cheek.

“Absolutely not.” I pulled him closer to me and shifted a bit, sliding a hand down his stomach. “Only thing I need is you.” My fingers wrapped around his length and guided him inside.

“Oh. My. Go...” The last syllable was lost in the moan that rumbled in his chest. He was completely still above me except the slow thrust to push himself deeper, nearly purring as he went. I moved my hands along his sides and he sighed. “Been too long. Won’t last.”

“Ditto,” I breathed into his ear, “on both counts. Just move.”

Tom obliged, rocking his hips back and forth, moving a little faster with each thrust. I tried to lift my hips to his, but he built a pace I just couldn’t maintain. All I could do was hold onto him, losing myself in the feeling his body in mine and the sounds we made. His moans took on a higher pitch and his thrusts became erratic until every muscle in his body tensed, his seed spilling in waves. Feeling him cum sent me back over the edge, and I could’ve sworn I heard him chuckle as I clamped down around him.

We lay tangled in each other for a while, basking in the afterglow. He finally moved to the side, eliciting a groan from both of us when he did. Ever the gentleman, he let me duck into the loo first while he turned down the bed. Both settled back in bed, I curled up next to him, my head resting on his chest.

“Love?” he whispered, toying with a lock of my hair. “Are you sure?”

“Sure of what?”

“This,” he spoke as he ran his fingers along my left hand to the ring. “I know you wouldn’t have refused me in front of the entire world and half of Manhattan, even if you wanted to.” I lifted my head from his chest to look at him. There was a genuine concern on his face as he sighed. “So, are you sure?”

“You’re serious?” His face turned sheepish. “Then let me answer a question with a question.”

“What? You hate it when I do that!” He sat up a bit and I pressed a finger to his lips.

“Thomas William Loki Adam Hank Henry Robert Freddie Jonathan Oakley Hiddleston the fifth, Lord Nooth, rightful king of the Jotunheim, England, Ireland, Scotland...”

“Okay, okay, enough,” he chuckled. I grinned at him.

“Will you marry me?” His eyes went wide and teared up a bit. He began nodding furiously until I kissed him.

Neither of us slept that night.

[wrinkledparchment]

{ The Late Train; }

Summary: You catch the 8:30 train every night to comfort Stefan, to listen to him, to be there for him. But when he needs you the most, you end up having to catch the late train.

Word Count: 2,127 (yikes)

A/N: Thank you @xyfanficarchive for the inspiration! I hope I did it justice, but this is probably hella shitty since I did it pretty quickly. 

Warnings: Dark Themes, Death, Loss, *spoiler* Implied Suicide

Taglist: @connorshero (Thank u for coming on this Bandersnatch/Fionn Whitehead journey with me) and @onl-you | Let me know if you want to be added to this fandom list!

[ You promised me, (Name). You promised. ]

“Stefan, you need to start getting out of the house. You need to socialize, and, I dunno, eat?” You heard your boyfriend’s muffled groan on the other side of the phone, muttering something about poison in the food.

“I know, [Name]. Dad’s out of Sugar Puffs again, I’ll just have that for a snack after he gets it from the supermarket,” Stefan argued, and predicted what was to come.

“Stefan, you are killing yourself here. Eat, or I will march over there on foot and force that goddamn cereal down your throat myself,” you huffed, and Stefan chuckled into the phone. “I know you’re shy, Stefan, but if you need anything from me, anything at all, I will take a train over.”

“You don’t need to do that, (Name). Hearing your voice is enough,” Stefan murmured, just loud enough, just clear enough that you could hear, and as much as he wished to stop there, to stop you from putting in the extra trouble, his blabbering mouth continued.

“I wish you could be here, though. You’re so warm, and cuddly, and I love to hear your laugh . . . It’s so cute and I jus-“ but he paused in the middle, clenching his fist around the phone as he cursed himself for saying too much.

A small giggle, albeit distorted, was received by Stefan, and he joined in. He heard you sigh right after, before some shuffling was heard. “Fine, love, I’m coming over. Just this once, and only because I love you.”

Stefan hummed, satisfied and prepared to be endowed with your familiar presence. He smiled to himself. “Thanks, love. What train are you taking?” he asked, curiously. He glanced at the clock, scanning the hands. 8:15. He let out a breath, relieved.

“I’ll be taking the 8:30, I guess. I know you’ll be worried about me but I’ve got keys between my knuckles, so I’ll be fine.” Hearing the unamused noise over the line, you allowed yourself to reassure him. “I promise.”

“Just,” Stefan breathed in quickly, “come quick, love. I’ll be waiting. Goodbye.”

“It’s not a ‘goodbye’, it’s a ‘see you soon’. Because I will be there. I promise, Stefan. I won’t be late,” you stated. Muttering another farewell, you hung up, grabbed some cash, and walked to the nearby train station.

You sat down, grabbing your Walkman and popping in a mixtape that Stefan had given you. You smiled at the memory of him faintly bobbing his head to the beat, the only time the boy even moved to music. The poor man was afraid of ridicule for being a terrible dancer, even if it was all in good fun.

And all the sudden . . . you arrived. You hopped off the train and began walking to Stefan’s house, luckily knowing where it was without having to even look up. It was quite easy to spot, after all, the house was engrained into your memory.

You’d heard and seen it all: being called by Stefan’s worried dad who didn’t know what to do, being called by Stefan himself, and you’d even been called by Stefan’s therapist just so she could make sure she knew what was going on.

Every time, over the past few months, you came here. You sat down with Stefan’s dad, you chatted with his therapist, and held Stefan close. You forced him to eat, to take care of himself, and you even tried to cease his descent into madness. Alas . . . it didn’t do much.

You knocked on the door and Stefan rushed over, opening the door and nearly banging the wall, almost tripping over a few things. He was a nervous, fumbling mess, and you knew why.

Stefan could never handle the thought of you getting on a train. Derailings were very uncommon, very unlikely, and highly improbable. It didn’t stop him from worrying on and on about it. So you let him fall into your arms again, and held him.

“Stefan,” you muttered into his unruly, curly, unbrushed hair, “I’m not going anywhere. You’re stuck with me, love. I won’t leave you, ever, I promise.” You closed your eyes as the sobs echoed on the stone of the porch, allowing him to let it all out.

If only you could mend the broken pieces, you would. His heart was a mosaic and it was a complicated design, but if you needed to study it for years, and try to do it justice forever, you would. You loved him, after all.

This became routine, Stefan calling and begging for you to come over just at 8:15, you obliging and catching the 8:30 train, and holding him as he cried. Occasionally listening to his conspiracy rants, helping him organize his desk, and hand-feeding him sugar puffs.

Just as that became routine, so did you checking your bank account, hoping to find opportunities to make some side-cash so you could afford visiting him every other night. So did your parents scowling at you, making snide comments about how the man should be taking care of the lady, and not the other way around.

You brushed it off, but looking over your bank statement, you knew that you couldn’t do this anymore. You loved him, you really did, so very much, but this was not working out. It took a toll on your own health, your own well-being, and your other relationships.

So, as you took a deep breath, you answered the usual ringing of the phone after dark. You expected to hear a Stefan that would ask gently for you to come over, telling you it was the last time, but instead, you were met with . . . silence.

“Stefan?” you questioned, and you heard a harsh breath being blown out. Something was wrong, more wrong than it had been since this all started. There were a few more, over and over. You could picture him inhale, and exhale.

“I-I . . . I need you,” he breathed, and something about that statement hit you right in the heart. There was no way you could deny him this time.

“What is it, Stefan?” you asked, and another exhale was heard. Your nerves were frantic, and you attempted to gather your things while still listening to him. You would try to be on with him as long as possible.

“It’s . . . It’s been a rough week. It’s all crashing down, (Name). I just- I just need you, I need you here, with me. I feel like it’s all tumbling down, and sometimes, I just- how did I manage without you?

“I’m so sorry. I’m so, so sorry. And, I love you, (Name). I know this has been rough on you, and you don’t have to come- oh god, I’ve been bugging you. I should- I should just hang up, now shouldn’t I? I don’t mean to annoy you, it’s just been so rough and I-“

“Stefan,” you interrupted gently. “Breathe, darling, breathe. I’ll be right over. You’ve got this, love. I’m always going to be right by your side. I’ll be there soon, but- breathe. And wait for me.”

“I love you so much, (Name).”

“I love you more, Stefan. I’m coming.”

You hung up, quickly stepping into your sneakers, ignoring the untied laces and racing out the door. You checked your watch, 8:20. Oh god, you were going to be late. This prompted you to run even quicker, your small purse getting tossed around and-

Ouch. You’d tripped on your shoelace, though you’d caught yourself with your hands. They were only a little scratched up, not bleeding, but then, you lifted your gaze. The contents of your purse were spilled all over the sidewalk.

You began frantically stuffing everything back in, checking for the cash, making sure you had something to pay for the ticket. You did. You had everything. Thank whatever higher power. You picked yourself back up, tying your shoelaces, and continuing your journey to the train station.

You glanced down to your watch quickly, jaw clenched as your feet screeched to a halt, and staring up at the tracks. Your train was gone, and it was 8:33. You closed your eyes as you breathed out a frustrated sigh, and you quickly went over to buy a new ticket for the 8:45 train.

Stefan settled down, allowing himself a minute to breathe and rest. He felt relieved. You were going to be here, you were going to hold him, and he could get lost in you. He could wrap his arms around you and feel your skin against his.

He would be able to brush his hands through your hair, and you would do the same. And he would bury his head in the crook of your neck, breathing in your scent and nuzzling into the soft fabric of your shirt. He would finally be content, at home, at peace.

So, he smiled to himself. He thought about all his moments with you, he thought about your smile and your laugh. He thought about how happy you made him. And he heard his name called from downstairs.

He looked at the clock, 8:50. You should be here by now. You were a 20-minute train ride away. You should be knocking on his front door now. Maybe his dad was calling because you were here. So he trudged down the steps.

The TV was blaring, his dad focused in on it. The imagery of a train flashed, and Stefan’s eyes scanned it. Another train had derailed. That was the 8:45. You always, always took the 8:30. You must have just been late. You took the 8:30, Stefan knows you did.

“Did she take that train?” Stefan’s dad asked.

Stefan shook his head no, “I don’t think she did. She always takes the 8:30.” But he gasped as they said your name. You were on that train.

He was still, unmoving for a few seconds, before dropping to his knees. He stared at the TV, at the picture of you, pronounced dead. His ears rung, his vision slowly fading and every moment with you flashed before his eyes.

His eyes clouded with tears, only a few shedding before the vision of the TV was blocked by his dad, rushing to his side, hugging him as they both sobbed. There’s a certain hole you’d managed to fill, only to be ripped out again and twice the size.

So he ragdolled, letting his arms drop to his sides and every muscle in his body to go limp before he screamed. His head throbbed in pain, his vocal cords were raw and his heart wasn’t any less torn. But he continued until there was no air left. And he let himself fade into the black.

[ I won’t leave you, ever, I promise. ]

Stefan uncaringly glanced into the mirror, staring at his black suit. He swallowed thickly, and looked away before placing his game into a box, and attaching a note to it. He left the room, watching the sunrise and walked with his dad to the car.

He gazed numbly out the window, his eyes were hollow and he shut the door harshly when he arrived. There was no grief left, no confusion as to what he would do without you. Because he knew. So he stood, hands by his side and no tears down his face, looking at your closed casket, though his dad was staring worriedly at him.  

He brushed it off, but he couldn’t shake off the harsh glares sent to him by your parents. At least he finally agreed with them on something. That your death was his fault.

You didn’t have to get on that train, you didn’t have to pay him a visit. He could’ve survived without you there, he always had managed that. He got caught up in the pleasant feeling of you, and couldn’t get enough.

He forced you to get on that train. You wouldn’t have been on it if it weren’t for him. The irony of it all seeped in; the 8:45 train, the derailing, his involvement. And he knew that everything he touched, no matter how beautiful, he destroyed.

[ How did I manage without you? ] | { I didn’t. }

It was time to end the cycle. After the funeral service, which ceased at, ironically, 8:30, he walked to the train station. He watched the train as the 8:45 train skidded down the very tracks he was standing on, and he waited patiently . . . he yearned to be with you again.

Finally, he couldn’t destroy anything. Finally, he was with you again. Finally, he was free.

[ You promised. ]

[parapluiepliant]

Polaris Con Panel Post - Part I

Hi peeps, mutuals and followers!

 Last weekend, Eliza, Tati and Tasya were in Frankfurt attending Polaris Con. For all those of you who are interested and/or couldn’t be there, I have made some notes and written them down in two posts.

 Before you start reading, I want you to be aware that I tried my best to write everything down. However, being not a machine, I might have missed a few things.

Most of the time, I’ve only written down the most important parts of the answers that were given. Therefore, the bullet points are always a paraphrase to some degree. Yet, I tried to be as close as possible to the intended meaning.

Also, take into account that I am not a native speaker.

 For the panels: Any information that is interesting in regard to season 3, 4 or 5 are bolded.

In-between, you will find either some additional description or side notes that are more or less of personal nature. You can read it or leave it. It’s your choice.

Tagging specifically @slayyourdemonstogehter @alexthedevil @insufficient-earth-skills @echoxbellamy and @istilldothiseveryday because they asked me to or had questions that might be hopefully answered with that post.

I hope you enjoy it and without further ado, the Polaris Con Panel Post - Part I!

Expect Part II tomorrow.

 Polaris Con – Friday and Saturday

Friday, June 2nd:

 After using the Autobahn appropriately (damn you, traffic jam!), I finally got to meet @forgivenessishardforus (Sam) and @stardust-blake (Hana) in Frankfurt.

[side note: is it just me or does it really feel weird to ‘know’ people from online chats/fandoms and then meeting them for the first time in real life?]

 All three of us agreed that the organisers of the con and their organisational skills are more than questionable at this point; a fact that that will unfortunately stay true in the next two days.

To tell the full story here would take too long.  

 Anyway, we still had a tiny bit of hope that we can get at least a partial refund when we appear at the venue. [side note: Bob had to cancel, so getting our money back for the Meet & Greet should have been a given, right?]

 Registration started at 2pm and took rather long for the handful of people waiting outside. One of the reasons might have been that almost everyone wanted to have some clarification about the ridiculous rules and the vouchers they got; vouchers for things that were bought beforhand but were no longer available due to guest cancellations in masses.

 Surprise surprise, we didn’t get our money back, so we had to settle for something different. Whereas Sam had (wisely) chosen to continue her travel through Europe and to visit friends instead of going to the con, Hana and I were determined to make the best out of it.

 After accompanying Sam to the nearest train station (and my heroic deed to stop the train before leaving and getting several times yelled at by the train driver in the process), Hana and I went back to have our vouchers exchanged for another Meet & Greet (for which we had to pay additionally money due to the price difference).

 Apart from a self-made poster depicting the dropship, a button, the photos we were allowed to use for collecting our signatures, and our pass, we got a DIN5 paper with the schedule. However, said schedule would be proven to be incomplete the next day.

  Saturday, June 3rd:

 10 o’clock and no opening ceremony as scheduled. Later on, we were told that the chauffeur didn’t know where the location for the event is. Eliza as well as Tasya grabbed the first taxi of which they could get a hold of, being the determined and initiative women they are.

 Their duo panel (the only duo panel for the whole weekend!) took place some time past 11am instead of 10.30am with delay being a recurring theme the whole day.

 Eliza and Tasya’s panel:

 -         Eliza and Tasya were irritated that we didn’t have a moderator.

-         Eliza: In the finale, preparing Bellamy was Clarke’s way to deal with her knowledge about the radiation poisening, being convinced that she is likely to die because of Abby’s vision.

-         Eliza would like to play Murphy because of his complicated character.

-         Tasya would like to play Jasper because she is impressed by the character and his development throughout the seasons.

-         Eliza: Richard has a Murphy playlist to which he listens to everytime he has to shoot a scene; Eliza herself doesn’t have one but always wanted to create one.

-         On the day when they were shooting the scene of Azgeda marching on Arkadia, Tasya listened to a Rihanna song on the radio on her way to the location. She channeled the energy into playing Echo that day.

-         Some fan asked Tasya and Eliza to enact a fanfiction on stage. After some time, they stopped because it was too long tho.

-         Tasya’s and Eliza’s favourite action sequence is the fight scene between Roan and Lexa.

-         Will Echo change during the time in space because of her confrontation with technology? --> Tasya thinks so. On Earth, there has been always danger of some sort, so Echo now has the chance to be a bit more “chilled out”.

-         How do you manage to hate or have a conflict with your friends on screen? --> Eliza: The moment you’re on set and in your costume, you’re getting into character and the actor’s true personalities isn’t really present in that moment.

-         Did Clarke draw back emotionally during the seasons and has found herself again in the season 4 finale? --> Eliza: yes, especially visible in the last scene.

-         Did Clarke adapt to the leaders around her? --> Eliza: Clarke did what she thought would be the most diplomatic thing to do, by finding a middle ground between them.

-         For season 5, Tasya is most excited about seeing “who is Echo at home” (due to the lack of enemies and life theratening fights). She thinks that it would be interesting to see a Grounder find to themself in space.

-         How will the characters develop in season 5? --> Eliza thinks that Clarke will have taken on a more maternal role in a small scale by keeping her and Madi alive. It will also have softened Clarke and uncomplicated her mind.

-         Tasya has the vision of Echo watering and taking care of plants, thus going into botany. Maybe she even teaches Raven to fight with a sword and Raven will teach her to do technical stuff. How the characters will develop and live together was actually a question Bob, Chris, Olivia, Richard, Lindsey, Chelsey, and her asked themselves and discussed for a time during the shooting of the spaceship scenes.

-         Any advice when you feel self-loathing and when you experience the feeling of coming short? --> Eliza said that whenever she felt to hit rock bottom, she went back to the basics by taking one step at a time instead of tackling the gigantic mission in front of her. This also includes to take small everyday steps like waking up, making breakfast, going out to take a walk, etc.

-         Eliza had made an audition tape for a movie 1 ½ year before she got the call for The 100. She didn’t get the role for the movie and had already forgotten about it, so she was surprised about the call she received for auditioning for The 100.

-         Tasya said that the universe sometimes simply conspires to reward you for your hard work and stamina. She had auditioned for different Grounders (among them Anya), but Echo was the one she finally got. Reading the script, she was instantly fascinated about Echo’s character.

-         What kind of tattoo would they choose for each other? --> Nutella jar.

-         Tasya has a secret vault for Nutella in her trailer.

-         Which Pokémon would you be?: Eliza doesn’t know Pokémon well, so she would be the “yellow guy” (Pikachu) and fans suggested that Tasya could be Vaporeon (?).

-         If they could have 3 clones, how would they be called and which skills would they have? --> Eliza: 1.Ya 2.As 3.Queen; cooking, cleaning, fighting // Tasya: 1.The Good 2.The Bad 3.The Ugly; ninjas

-         Clarke met Madi on her travels and picked her up along the way.

-         Eliza prefers to get to know people first before giving any general advice.

-         With whom would you like to switch your life? --> Both: Jessica Harmon

-         The bear story (https://twitter.com/tasyanews/status/871139299483279361)

 The next panel was Tati’s. Here, Hana and I were a bit late because Tati’s panel for Saturday was missing on the schedule and we were getting our autograph from Chad Rook. [side note: no one really knew why he had been there but it’s likely that the Dreams Con was mingled with Polaris; and the only attendee left for Dreams Con was Chad apparently whereas the rest had cancelled. Either way, he is a cool guy and most of us felt bad for him because so many people didn’t know him and thus didn’t know what to ask during panels]

   Tati’s panel (just for the record: Tati is a literal ray of sunshine!):

-         Favourite Disney Movies: Hercules and Atlantis

-         Favourite Disney Song: Colour of the Wind

-         Personalities that inspire her: Gandhi and Cleopatra, the 7th

-         With whom did you get along the best with: Tati is very close with Chai because he is “like a big brother” to her and she cried when Ilian died on screen. She is also very close with Nadia.

-         Who did you meet first on set? --> Chai

-         With whom would she like to have (had) more scenes: Ian and Isaiah because they “bring a lot your way”, as well as Zach and Lindsey. She bonded the most with Chai.

-         How is it to work with Adina? --> Tati said that Adina is someone who “gets shit done” and as much as she jokes on Twitter, the more so she does in person. Adina is an awesome person overall.

-         Something you wish you knew before becoming an actor: how to do social media. Tati wants to talk to all her fans but doesn’t know how to reach them the best way.

-         She likes karaoke a lot and her favourite songs to sing are “iSpy” by Kyle, “Dear Prudence” by The Beetles and “Let it be” (Across the Universe Version)

-         Does she have a playlist for Gaia: “Rise” and “Weary”, each by Solange

-         For season 5, Tati hopes that Gaia will fight for her belief as she is the face of the tradition now. She added that there are “great things ahead”.

-         It was amazing to work with Adina. She is like a mother to her.

-         Gaia is jealous of Octavia when it comes to her mother but respects her at the same time for the way she managed to become close to Indra. A part of Gaia wants all of them to get along and to find a way to bring them together.

-         She wanted her mother’s love and seeing it going to someone else is heartbreaking for Gaia.

-         Tati hopes and thinks that something will happen between Madi and Gaia in season 5 due to their current roles as nightblood and flamekeeper respectivelly. Considering Gaia, Tati thinks that she will want to have another commander because Octavia has been chosen against/not in accord with their tradition and belief. Therefore, Madi might be the chance for Gaia to make things right again.

-         Tatis’s favourite Behind the Scenes took place during the filming of 4x08 when Kane, Jaha, Monty and Indra tried to get into the bunker and met the Azgeda guards. It had been 2am, it was freezing cold and everybody was delirious (especially Chris and Isaiah), and everyone was stepping on Indra’s long cloak so they had to do a lot of retakes.

-         Did you watch The 100 even before you got the role: yes, but only season 1. She watched it during her 1st year in college and loved it but wasn’t a huge fan. Later on, she binge-watched it tho.

-         Tati recommended to go to LA for doing animation arts or performance arts. NY would be better suited for artistic people because the culture there is more diverse and appreciative of it.

-         What would Gaia study if she lived today: Theology, Ancient History and Anthropology.

-         Asked for a crossover with The 100, Tati answered Supernatural.

-         What does Tati think of Lexa? --> She loved Lexa (for being focused and for her elegance) as well as Alycia.

-         What kind of roles would you like to play in the future? --> Anything that is completely different to her personality. ‘Rent’ would be a musical dream.

-         Tati thinks that social media is supposed to connect people with another but most of the time, people put up a façade. Social media has its good as well as its bad sides to it.

-         With whom will you be working more in season 5? --> Tati doesn’t know. However, she hopes to work more with Ian and Isaiah. She would have liked to have more screentime with Zach, Chai and Nadia (who is like a sister to her) if they hadn’t died. It is likely that she will have more scenes with Octavia and Indra.

-         Party tricks? --> Not really because she is socially awkward.

-         If she could choose who would she like to play in The 100, Tati would also love to be Roan, Jackson or Monty.

-         If you could, with whom would you like to have a fight scene: Roan would be “epic”. In a Roan vs Gaia fight, Gaia would win tho as she was trained by Indra.

-         Tati’s favourite book is ‘The Alchemist’ by Paul Coelho because it helped her out of a dark place and gave her a new purpose.

-         If Jasper had been your friend, would you have stopped him: Tati told us that she had a friend that committed suicide. She said that she would support that person in any way she is able to. Yet, she wouldn’t hold that person back if they really wanted to go peacefully because everyone had to decide for themselves how to live their life. She cried watching the scene with Japser and was amazed by Devon’s acting because he thinks everything through.

-         Does she do her own stunts: she does and loves to do them. She might also have more stunts next season.

-         Who would she choose to kill off in the show if she could: for Gaia it is Roan; for her, no one as it is not in her nature to want people dead.

-         Favourite type of vacation: beach trip

-         What would Tati teach a nightblood? --> She strongly believes that children are the future. Therefore, she would teach them compassion and how to defend themselves emotionally, mentally, verbally, and physically. For her, learning doesn’t and shouldn’t be seen as a chore. Because “the world is your classroom”, one should go out and make their individual experiences. There is nothing to be afraid of. Life and learning is a path with no right or wrong. Beauty is in everything if you look at it and her childlike fascination is in that regard helpful to her.

-         Advice for Gaia (or the other way round): Bent but don’t break.

-         Tati’s comfort food: Bin Bin rice crackers and macarons.

  After the lunch break,......

 Eliza’s panel:

 -         Which Hogwarts House: Eliza doesn’t know. (“Is there a test?”) Fans told her that she might be a Hufflepuff.

-         Do you know any words in Trigedasleng? --> the typical ones, followed by saying “Yo gonplei ste odon.”

-         Eliza had to learn the Trigedasleng dialogue Clarke recites before taking the Flame on the spot because it was added in the last minute. Zach, Tasya and Marie are really good in speaking Trig in contrast to her.

-         Favourite song: ‘Elusive’ by Scott Matthews; She has one line of the lyrics as tattoo (“my destiny lies in the hands that set me free”) (https://twitter.com/dailyejt/status/871866581797789697)

-         Favourite Colour: depends on mood; usually blue because of the ocean, or red.

-         Favourite episode of season 4: acting-wise the finale; it was their strongest episode yet and they all had a lot of fun with the script. With the helms, it was tough and crazy to interact with each other, so it was more lip reading than anything else.

-         Would you prefer space or the bunker? --> Eliza is terrified of space as well as claustrophobic; Clarke would love to go to space tho.

-         She would love to play Ilana from “Broad City”

-         Eliza is still in contact with Alycia. The last time they have seen each other was last year. They are missing each other most of the times due to their busy schedules.

-         Eliza’s greatest fear: being stuck in an elevator

-         Eliza’s greatest joy: her friends and family because she doesn’t get to see them often

-         Thumper was one of the hardest things she has ever done

-         A fan asked about her school project in Thailand: the project is going well thanks to the donations but it is still hard. Seeing the whole community come together to help is amazing.

-         Favourite scene of season 4: the radio scene because Clarke is now closer to her age. It also offers a calmer and more hopeful Clarke.

-         According to Eliza, Bellamy and Clarke gained back the respect they had for each other in season 1 and 2, being allies. It was also good not to have to yell at Bob all the time. (https://twitter.com/SourcesThe100/status/870991188647661568)

-         The audition for Thumper took place 1 ½ year before the movie began filming. She got the call for Thumper after they finished season 2. She had some workshops with the director in preparation for Thumper.

-         For the Netflix original “Christmas Inheritance”, she was simply asked.

-         In a real life action movie of Sailor Moon, she would like to play Sailor Moon because she could finally have those long pigtails.

-         She would like to play the Schuyler sisters in Hamilton.

-         How are the different relationships going to look like after the time jump? A lot will have changed.

-         About Thailand food, she thinks that Pad Thai is “noodle extravaganza” and she likes to drink coconuts.

-         She loves Thailand for the wonderful nature and the incredible, loving and lovely people. When she leaves Thailand after her visits, she comes always home with a different sense of what is important.

-         What could Eliza and Clarke learn from each other? Clarke could teach Eliza how to delegate, and Eliza could teach Clarke how to crack a joke ot two.

-         Eliza quit school in 10th grade because she was already working as an actress.

-         Eliza said that she would like to have more scenes with Lindsey.

-         When asked about her favourite ship, Eliza said that “she doesn’t do the shipping”.

-         About the 6 years+, Eliza said that Clarke tried to but couldn’t get in touch with her mother. Eliza gathered that Bellamy and Clarke had decided off screen that Bellamy would be in charge of the radio on the Ark ring.

-         The red streak of hair is related to Clarke’s disconnectedness.

-         The best present fans have given her was the adoption certification of a whaleshark.

-         Have Madi and Clarke a mother-daughter or a sibling relationship? Mother-daughter. Clarke might be taking on from her mother but definitely more Grounder and earth skill lessons due to their life circumstances.

-         Eliza is excited that she doesn’t have to wear a wig for season 5.

-         Favourite movie: “Almost Famous”; She is obsessed with the 60s/70s and loves Penny Lane.

-         Eliza loves the old Batman movies.

-         Playing a villain would be really cool because she never got to play one but being a bit of both (good and evil) would be fantastic.

-         Does Clarke have a sense of self? --> In season 5 for sure. Before, there was too much going on for Clarke to concentrate herself on developing a sense of self.

-         What would you do if Jasper was your friend? She thinks that it is a “loaded question” but Eliza would try to stop him. In case that she wouldn’t have succeeded, she would try to understand their motivation and hope that they are now at peace.

-         What would she have liked to know about social media before she became an actress? --> She would have liked to be mentally prepared for it because no one really tells you how it can affect you. There should be some sort of preparation, especially for young girls who can get messed up by being exposed to the public eye. It can be very invasive and it feels like they take a piece of you without permission.

-         Eliza likes the American Footbal League and sees Calden as her team. Being in Vancouver, she recently got into hockey as well.

-         Eliza doesn’t like to talk about Lexa’s death. It brought a love to many people and it’s better to celebrate the good things that came out of it.

 After the panel, it was our turn to get autographs of Tasya and Tati. However, the queue was too long and Tasya’s panel was about to start, so the organisers decided to hand out numbers so that people wouldn’t have a disadvantage for the second queue after the panel (needless to say that we never came back to use the numbers in any way).

 Tasya’s panel:

 -         Tasya does some of the stunts herself, for example the fight scenes. She actually signed up for archery lessons because she still doesn’t know how to do it and had to rely on a director on set who practices archery as a hobby. She joked that you can never know how you might need that skill in space.

-         If Echo would meet herself, they would fight each other.

-         Tasya would teach Echo how to love other people. Echo could teach Tasya how to be strong and to stand her ground.

-         Are there other projects she will stare in? --> Tasya will be part of the show “Travellers” that starts shooting in 2 days (so basically on Monday; one of the reasons she had to leave early on Sunday)

-         Favourite scene: The scene when Roan cauterizes his wound. Not only Roan and Echo, but also Zach and Tasya tried to figure each other out that day. Tasya also tried to figure out how long Echo and Roan might have known each other. For that scene, the director also gave Tasya a word of action/an operative word to help her acting in that scene. The word itself was “seduce” (Roan into wanting power).

-         Her resolution for 2017 was to stop eating anything that was made with palm oil because of all the damage that is done for retrieving it. Getting to know that Nutella has stopped using it made her really happy.

-         Tasya is part of an organisation against human trafficking called ‘Unslaved’. After being part of a film about that topic, it was important for her to get people to talk about it without being afraid of it. It is more than important to raise awareness, stop it and help those who are threatenend to become part of the system as well as those who are left alone with their experiences.

-         She got to know about her season 5 contract around the time of her birthday in February and had to stay tight lipped all the time. She was actually quite nervous during the negotiation process.

-         About who she thinks might end up together in space, Tasya joked that Echo might probably end up with Monty. A bit more serious, she added that she doesn't think Echo would stick with one of them for the whole 6 years.

-         Echo is pretty quiet and watchful in space and Tasya is curious about how Emori and Echo will adapt, given that they are Grounders.

-         Tasya doesn’t know about Echo’s sexuality, same as Echo because her duty to protect the king was the only thing that actively occupied her thoughts.

-         What would she do if Jasper would be her friend: Tasya would talk him out of it. She said that it’s a tough question and that she thinks that people respond to love which reminds people to keep fighting.

-         Whereas Chelsey and Lindsey enjoy to work out, Tasya prefers Yoga and Boxing to stay fit.

-         With whom would you want to be friends? Octavia because of her pissy attitude as well as Raven because she gets shit done and because Tasya likes her strength.

-         Asked about a possible romantic involvement between Roan and Echo, Tasya said that she believes that it was more of a “hairpulling thing” between them, stemming from their childhood days. However, given more time it might have had potential to develop into something more. In this time frame that was shown on screen, Echo and Roan were not romantic.

-         Favourite colour: purple

-         About Echo’s position within the Azgeda military, Tasya said that between season 3 and 4, Echo was promoted by Roan. Yet, she was always a spy and the most trusted by Azgeda royalty.

 Tasya and Tati autographs, the second try:

I told Tasya that it is really sad she has to leave early on Sunday. She said that she was actually thinking about not attending Sunday at all but decided against it. I mean, she has to take a flight on Sunday to be ready for filming “Travellers” on Monday and still decided to stay for at least a few hours?! That needs to be honoured with a hug! And so I came to hug Tasya (who looks like an actual model and I might stan her now for several reasons...don’t judge me!). All in all, everything went pretty fast so I didn’t get the chance to ask anything.

 Tati was a little adorable sunshine! I asked her how she likes it so far and she told me that she was really happy, said that it is her first convention and she likes it a lot so far. Another thing I asked her was if the Flamekeeper tattoo had any symbolism or meaning behind it. Tati answered no, at least as far as she knows. The most important thing was the middle of it showing the Second Dawn symbol.

 I know that Hana asked them some questions as well but I cannot for the live of me remember what it was. :/

 So far, so good. Saturday is almost over. Let’s see what Con-Sunday brings.

[itsfinancethings]

November 29, 2019 at 07:00AM

List season has hit particularly hard this year, as the end of our first full decade of social media immersion has culminated in a multi-month spree of ranking and revisiting the likes of which humanity has probably never seen before. So I feel compelled to open by thanking you, the reader, for giving yet another highly subjective hit parade your attention.

My hope is that along with a few of the zeitgeisty critical darlings (Fleabag, Watchmen, Succession) you’re sure to find in every other top 10 of 2019, this list will point you in the direction of some equally wonderful series (Vida, David Makes Man, Back to Life) that haven’t gotten the shine they deserve. What you won’t find here, incidentally, is anything from the initial slate of shows on brand-new streaming services Apple TV+ or Disney+. Whether that disappointment turns out to be a pattern or a fluke, only time will tell.

10. Back to Life (Showtime)

Few characters have embodied the saying “you can’t go home again” as fully as Back to Life creator Daisy Haggard’s Miri Matteson. Out on parole after spending half her life in jail for a crime she committed at age 18, Miri returns to her small English hometown—not because she’s missed the place, but because she has nowhere to go but her parents’ house. While enduring harassment at the hands of neighbors who will never forget what she did, she struggles to find work, companionship and peace. From the producers of Fleabag, this quieter, gentler traumedy weighs Miri’s crime against the less extreme but more malicious transgressions of her family and friends. It poses the question of whether anyone who pays their debt to society really gets a fair chance to start over—and it suggests that you can tell a lot about a community by getting to know its scapegoats.

9. When They See Us (Netflix)

Ava DuVernay is the rare popular artist fueled by an irrepressible optimism about building a better future as well as righteous anger about the past and present. She brought both of these defining traits to bear on this four-part drama about the Central Park Five—whom her miniseries rechristened the Exonerated Five. Along with exposing how and suggesting why a broken New York City criminal justice system was so eager to vilify blameless children of color in the aftermath of a monstrous act of sexual violence, DuVernay and her stellar young cast worked with the real Five to create multifaceted portraits of regular kids with hopes, ambitions and communities that suffered as a result of their incarceration. And she found echoes of their story in the current movement against mass incarceration and in the presidency of Donald Trump, who stoked public fury at the boys. When They See Us celebrates the righting of a grievous wrong while acknowledging that no vindication, or remuneration, could fully heal such deep wounds.

8. Watchmen (HBO)

For those of us who haven’t enjoyed our culture’s never-ending superhero craze so much as endured it, the news that the most prestigious of all prestige cable outlets was adapting a DC Comics book sounded kind of like a betrayal. Et tu, HBO? But we should never have doubted The Leftovers creator Damon Lindelof’s ability to make Alan Moore’s brilliant, subversive 1980s classic resonate more than three decades later. Instead of revisiting the Cold War, Lindelof set his Watchmen in an alternate 2019 where the events of the comic are canon, Robert Redford (yes, that one) has been President for decades and a white supremacist group called the Seventh Kavalry is slaughtering police who are loyal to the liberal administration. Into this mess rides masked vigilante Sister Night (Regina King, in the would-be hero role she’s long deserved), a cop who is supposed to have retired from crime-fighting. There is (or should be) enough carryover from Moore’s original to appease its cult fandom, but the show is at its best when contending with our confused, misinformed, politically polarized current reality. And in that respect, it’s every bit as intelligent, provocative and mysterious as it is entertaining.

7. Undone (Amazon)

Fans worried that BoJack Horseman mastermind Raphael Bob-Waksberg would turn out to be a one-hit wonder could take comfort in this wildly imaginative sci-fi dramedy that he co-created with Kate Purdy, about a disaffected young woman (Rosa Salazar’s Alma) who narrowly survives a catastrophic car crash. In hospital-bed visions tied to her sudden physical trauma and preexisting mental illness, Alma reunites with her long-dead father (Bob Odenkirk), learns that he was murdered and allows him to guide her on a time-travel mission to prevent the crime from happening. Yet Undone is more than just a high-concept mystery; it’s a journey into human consciousness, a beautiful example of Rotoscoped animation and a subtle meditation on family, identity and spirituality.

6. David Makes Man (OWN)

The success of Moonlight sent ripples through Hollywood, elevating writer-director Barry Jenkins and a cast including Mahershala Ali, Jharrel Jerome and Janelle Monáe to the highest echelon of their art form. It also opened industry doors for MacArthur honoree Tarell Alvin McCraney, who wrote the play on which the film was based. This year he unveiled David Makes Man, a lyrical drama about a smart, troubled 14-year-old (Akili McDowell, astonishing in his first lead role) in the Florida projects who’s struggling to get into a prestigious high school and avoid being drafted into a gang, while mourning a mentor. Though it shares a lush aesthetic and many themes—black boyhood, complicated role models, queer identity—with Moonlight, the expanded format allows McCraney to explore the people around David. His privileged best friend (Nathaniel McIntyre) suffers abuse at home. His gender-queer neighbor (Travis Coles) takes in runaway LGBT teens and plays a delicate role in the local ecosystem. And his single mother (Alana Arenas), an addict in recovery, holds down a degrading job to keep the bills paid. This isn’t just the old story of excellence and poverty battling for the soul of one extraordinary child; it’s the story of a community where both qualities must coexist.

5. Lodge 49 (AMC)

At least once a year, a series too smart for prime-time gets canned even as network execs re-up long-running bores like NCIS for 24 more functionally identical episodes. In 2019, it was Lodge 49 that ended up on the wrong side of the equation. A loose, semi-stoned account of a young man (Wyatt Russell’s Sean “Dud” Dudley) treading water in the wake of his beloved father’s death, the show expanded over the course of its first season into an allegory for the isolation of contemporary life. The Southern California landscape around Dud, an affable dreamer, and his self-destructive twin sister (Sonya Cassidy) had been scarred by pawn shops, breastaurants, temp agencies, abandoned office parks. Refuge came in the form of the titular cash-strapped fraternal organization, where Dud found two precious things late capitalism couldn’t provide: a sense of community and a mysterious, all-consuming quest. Both propelled him and his cohorts to Mexico in this year’s funny, bittersweet second season; perhaps sensing the end was near, creator Jim Gavin’s finale provided something like closure. Still, the show—which is currently being shopped to streaming services—has plenty left to say. Here’s hoping the producers find a way to, as the fans on Twitter put it, #SaveLodge49.

4. Vida (Starz)

In its short first season, creator Tanya Saracho’s Vida assembled all the elements of a great half-hour drama. Mishel Prada and Melissa Berrera shined as Mexican-American sisters who come home to LA after the death of their inscrutable mom, Vida—only to learn that the building and bar she owned are on the verge of foreclosure. It also turns out that Vida, whose homophobia destroyed her relationship with Prada’s sexually fluid Emma, had married a woman. Meanwhile, their angry teenage neighbor Mari (Chelsea Rendon) raged against gentrification. These storylines coalesced to electrifying effect in this year’s second season, testing the sisters’ tense bond as they found themselves in the crosshairs of activists who saw their desperate efforts to save the family business as acts of treachery from two stuck-up “whitinas.” Thanks largely to the talented Latinx writers and directors Saracho enlisted for the project, Vida brings lived-in nuance to issues like class, colorism and desire—yielding one of TV’s smartest and sexiest shows.

3. Succession (HBO)

Right-wing tycoons and their adult children have gotten plenty of attention in the past few years—most of it negative. So why would anyone voluntarily watch a show in which the nightmare offspring of a Mudoch-like media titan (Brian Cox) compete to become his successor? A rational argument for all the goodwill around Succession might point out the crude poetry of its dialogue (from creator Jesse Armstrong, a longtime Armando Iannucci collaborator), the fearlessness of its cast (give Jeremy Strong an Emmy just for Kendall’s rap) and the knife-twisting accuracy of this season’s digital-media satire (R.I.P. Vaulter). But on a more primal level, one informed by the increasingly rare experience of watching episodes set Twitter ablaze as they aired, I think we’re also getting a collective thrill out of a series that confirms our darkest assumptions about people who thirst for money and power. It’s a catharsis we may well deserve.

2. Russian Doll (Netflix)

To observe that there was a built-in audience for a show created by Natasha Lyonne, Amy Poehler and Leslye Headland in which Lyonne starred as a hard-partying New York City cynic might’ve been the understatement of the year. But even those of us who bought into Russian Doll from the beginning could never have predicted such a resounding triumph. In a story built like the titular nesting doll, Lyonne’s Nadia Vulvokov dies in a freak accident on the night of her 36th birthday. The twist is, instead of moving on to the afterlife or the grave, she finds herself back where she started the evening, at a party in her honor. Nadia is condemned to repeat this cycle of death and rebirth until she levels up in self-knowledge—a process that entails many cigarettes, lots of vintage East Village grit and a not-so-chance encounter with a fellow traveler. Stir in a warm, wry tone and a message of mutual aid, and you’ve got the best new TV show of 2019.

1. Fleabag (Amazon)

Fleabag began its run, in 2016, as a six-episode black comedy about a scornful, neurotic, hypersexual young woman caught in a self-destructive holding pattern of her own making. The premise didn’t immediately distinguish creator and star Phoebe Waller-Bridge as all that different from peers like Lena Dunham, Aziz Ansari and Donald Glover. But the British show’s execution was sharp, funny and daring enough to make it a cult hit on both sides of the Atlantic—and to anoint Waller-Bridge as TV’s next big thing. She went on to helm the exhilarating first season of Killing Eve, giving this year’s second and final season of Fleabag time to percolate. It returned as a more mature but, thankfully, no less audacious show, matching Waller-Bridge’s somewhat reformed Fleabag with an impossible love interest known to fans as the Hot Priest (Andrew Scott). The relationship offered a path to forgiveness for the kind of character most millennial cris de coeur have been content to leave hanging. By allowing Fleabag a measure of grace without sacrificing her life-giving vulgarity, Waller-Bridge conjured the realistic vision of redemption that has so far eluded her contemporaries—and closed out the 2010s with the decade’s single greatest season of comedy.

[fmlfpl]

Lineup Lamentations - GW7

Our Transfers, Captains, and Starting 11s for the week.

The latest lambs ever follows the latest pod ever... Sorry everyone for my fucking up of everything. Back to normal schedule after this week. Love, Alon.

WALSH

TRANSFERS:

OUT: Jese and Firmino

IN: Stephens and Morata

Made a big move today lads. I had intended to keep Bob and float but the more I look at it and think about it the less sense it makes. His price is plummeting and he's looked shit. There are some doubts whether or not he'll get a rest for Sturridge, which would be a gameweek sinking thing if I did hold him through losing value only to see that occur. If I do hold and he blanks then I'm pretty fucked and would be forced to make an early transfer on him to prevent losing more value. He's also got two really bad fixtures off the back of the international break, so, even if he returns at Newc he'd be a suspect pick for the short term with all these other heavy hitters fucking hard. It doesn't feel GREAT to bring Morata in before the City game but whatever. He doesn't have to travel to South America during the break and they have great fixtures off the back of the break. Firm has been getting subbed early and shit I don't know. I just don't want to stick around and wait until he turns it around. Getting aggressive here and bringing in someone who has no doubts whatsoever in Alvaro. Go on my Spanish son.

As an afterthought, RLC needs a thigh replacement, clearly, so I had to turn my eye searching for a different 4.5 mid. Glad I didn't fire on an early swap of Jese...or very glad that his price could not have been dropping slower this week to let me wait until after Friday pressers to act. Carroll seemed the most sensible lad with indirect set pieces but after popping around the Swansea forums everyone seemed to be jerking it to Roque Mesa and shit. Ki is coming back. Clucas, Sanches, Fer, blah. Lots of fucks for Clement to choose from. Stephens seems fine, stats aren't the worst shit ever, and has no competition for his spot from what I could tell from the absurd joke that are the BHA fan forums. And my own perusal of their roster etc. Whatever. Hopefully will do Chalobah to my love RLC in a bit.

GK:

Foster's turn. Much of a muchness last week as both he and Elliot brought in two points. The fixture is a lot clearer this weekend and hoping for Pulis to shut it down at home against Silva's yellow guys. Meh.

DEF:

Going to need some lady luck this weekend with the defenders I'm throwing out there I fear.

Jones and Mou are doing Jones and Mou things. I'm going to slot Jones in the lineup hoping he features. Meh.

Bavies speaks for himself. Got a little breather against the tractor team from wherever the fuck midweek by playing at LCB instead of LWB. He'll slot back into his normal spot with Serge suspended so maybe he will return more than 1 fucking point for the first time since I got him in 3 gameweeks ago. Piece of shit.

Naughton goes at West Ham. Hoping that Antonio is only fit enough for the bench so the West Ham side will be less good, but tbd. Hoping that Clement parks an away bus again. Feel okay with young Kyle in this one.

Finally, I'm giving SWard a run at Goodison. Everton don't usually get stymied at home but Burnley have been great and Everton are coming off a Thursday night fuckfest in which they continued their season long theme of looking shit. Don't feel horrible with this shout.

If Jones misses out....I will be throwing Franno in the lineup. Home Leicester versus twat mode Vardy surely no clean, but who knows. It's not a diabolical on paper fixture so I don't feel that bad if he has to come in. It could be a lot worse.

MID:

Steady midfield trio of Salad, Eriksen, and Brady go again for me in the 433. 

Eriksen looks to have recovered from whatever he was faking sick with to avoid traveling to assfuckland so that's good. Until Vagner and his band of thugs probably kicks the fuck out of him and injures him like they did do GW1 against us with Wilf. Kick / kill their talisman and try not to get a red likely will be what Vagner has his guys going for. So, hopefully he doesn't get killed.

Salad feels like a hatty is coming soon. Maybe at Rafa. Kill for.

Brady finally just feels a nice little guy. Still feels like good value at the 5.5 spot and happy to hold. Fixture is a little tricky but with Keane a major doubt as well as Jags....it wouldn't be too surprising to see a Burnley goal off a set piece via Brady's gorgeous Irish left foot.

FWD:

Kane and Rom need no words.

New friend Alvaro steps in for Bob. Bob thanks for the 6 points in 3 games. Couldn't have done it without you. Fully expecting him to start firing again now that Mane is back and I've gotten rid, but such is life. I am sure I'll own him again at some point this season. Hopefully purchased at a nice reduced price. As it stands, very pleased to welcome Morata to the team. He's a nice boy by all accounts and I think he'll fit in well around the locker room with my other friends. He's looking ripe with their upcoming fixtures and I'm glad I was .1 off from getting Jesus so I didn't have to think much about that. Getting in Chelsea and City players from now until as soon as possible feels good so here we are. First Chelsea lad in for me this season hope he fucks City raw this weekend.

CAP:

Kane. I don't cap against Palace so Rom doesn't get my arm band. Hoping Sakho does a job on him and he stays quiet. If not, I own him, so whatever. At least he's covered. As ranted about during the pod I think this Huddersfield team is hot trash and they are due a spanking from a big boy. Vagner has stubbornly said he will try to play their brand of football which should be completely ripped apart by a top four side like Spurs. I don't think a 5-0 is out of the question. Just like Poch, I also love Harry Kane. Sir Harold, go on my boy.

ALON

TRANSFERS:

OUT: Firmino

IN: Jesus

Woof so I made my transfer at the absolute last second before price changes and then Bobby doesn’t end up dropping after all. Of course. But if he did drop I wouldn’t have been able to afford Gab so here we are; GAB IN.

The Aguero rib-breaking swayed me to Jesus over Morata/Laca/saving the transfer. Even though now that both Walsh and I got rid of Bobby he’ll certainly destroy this week and you all reading this should absolutely captain him if you still have him... But in all seriousness - City we’ve been mad jerking off to them all season long and now you’re finally seeing why. They’re scoring an absolutely ludicrous amount of goals for fun and I’m hoping Kun’s cracked rib keeps him out for 1-2 months and that would nail Jesus to the #9 spot where I expect returns to be plentiful.

It’s not ideal kicking off with a match at Stamford Bridge followed by a trip to Brazil but I’m more thinking the following few fixtures which are home Stoke, home Burnley, and at West Brom. I’ve seen reports that Kun will only be out 2-4 weeks and I’ve seen reports of 2 months. I don’t know. I still have my wildcard so I felt that this was a risk worth taking. It’s very far from impossible to see Jesus become the bestish FWD in the game over the next month or two if Kun ends up being out and Bobby has been shite lately. So I’m rolling the dice on that. Hope the points follow :)...

GK:

Elliot to, I hope, get fucking clobbered by a flying Liverpool side. Sometimes it’s fuck FPL time and when it comes to fandom, see above with Walsh and Palace, it’s definitely fuck FPL time. Maybe he’ll get some save points but I hope he just gets destroyed... whatever.

DEF:

Like Walsh I’m starting Jones and just hoping that he fucking starts but really who the fuck knows with Mou and his doubts and mind games. Assuming Jones isn’t in though I’ll be running out three kind of pieces of shit with the Mendy/Jones injuries decimating my backline.

Naughton away West Ham feels pretty bad to me. Swansea are... I don’t know what they are. I still think they’re not good even though sometimes they do a job they’re still on fucking 5 points and well within grasp of relegation. They suck. West Ham also suck but they can score goals. Hard for me to imagine more then a 2 pointer here from Kyle but one can dream.

Danny boy Simpson comes in for me in another, in my opinion, bad situation away to Bournemouth. It’s not a nightmare but Leicester are also just kind of fucking bad. They’re sat on 4 points below even fucking Swansea like. Bournemouth and King and Defoe are starting to tit and maybe they’re turning it around a little I’m not sure. Long story short it’s hard for me to imagine more then a 2 pointer here from Danny. Fuck this is gonna be a rough week...

Lastly Ryan Berty who feels worse then he actually is because Southampton are soooo fucking bad. But the fact is they have three cleans in six matches - that’s very solid. And while he has no attacking returns this season, partially because Soton can’t score any fucking goals, we know from history that he has it in his locker. He’s shown glimpes like that sitter he missed in one of the matches but meh. I think I just have to separate the player and the returns from the vibe of the team and keep taking the points he’s delivering me which again, have been very very solid. At Stoke is a good defensive fixture. They really struggle to score goals. Go get me a clean Ryan.

MID:

The Salad man stands alone. I wish the LFC faithful would write him a song that involves him missing sitters but still donging that would be so delightful. Either way the still donging part is why we all have him and that’s just what he’s gonna keep doing :).

Brady is still mildly soupy but it hasn’t been great. But it hasn’t been bad either. If he gets a return this week or next week then yeah that’s about at the level I thought he’d be and he’s doing a great job for his price and his role as an enabler. Big if though.

Tom Carroll fucking IN this week because of my injuries let’s gooooo. Ugh this week is going to be a really giant red arrow for me I think. I should’ve wildcarded on like Sunday. Fuck. I fucked up big time I think. I’m starting Tom Carroll. If he gets me a return then I’m just the luckiest fucking dickfuck on the planet. Though it is West Ham.......

And Daveed to round it out. I finally gave Daveed a friend in Jesus up top. He can assist his friend and it’s all gravy. Everyone wins!

FWD:

Kane, Rom, and Jesus. Is that good? HELLOOOOOOOOOO.

Really don’t need many words here. These lads are all professional goal scorers. They’re all masters at their crafts. Go the fuck on.

CAP:

Sticking on Rom here. The template call. The quality of fixture gap is too large for me to go Kane even though his qualities are so much higher then Rom and his form is ridiculous. Palace minus Wilf, minus Benteke, minus Fosu-Mensah (Joel Ward IN) - I just cannot resist. It should be a proper bare-bottom spanking from United. And pretty much no way to possibly imagine anything else.

[itsfinancethings]

List season has hit particularly hard this year, as the end of our first full decade of social media immersion has culminated in a multi-month spree of ranking and revisiting the likes of which humanity has probably never seen before. So I feel compelled to open by thanking you, the reader, for giving yet another highly subjective hit parade your attention.

My hope is that along with a few of the zeitgeisty critical darlings (Fleabag, Watchmen, Succession) you’re sure to find in every other top 10 of 2019, this list will point you in the direction of some equally wonderful series (Vida, David Makes Man, Back to Life) that haven’t gotten the shine they deserve. What you won’t find here, incidentally, is anything from the initial slate of shows on brand-new streaming services Apple TV+ or Disney+. Whether that disappointment turns out to be a pattern or a fluke, only time will tell.

10. Back to Life (Showtime)

Few characters have embodied the saying “you can’t go home again” as fully as Back to Life creator Daisy Haggard’s Miri Matteson. Out on parole after spending half her life in jail for a crime she committed at age 18, Miri returns to her small English hometown—not because she’s missed the place, but because she has nowhere to go but her parents’ house. While enduring harassment at the hands of neighbors who will never forget what she did, she struggles to find work, companionship and peace. From the producers of Fleabag, this quieter, gentler traumedy weighs Miri’s crime against the less extreme but more malicious transgressions of her family and friends. It poses the question of whether anyone who pays their debt to society really gets a fair chance to start over—and it suggests that you can tell a lot about a community by getting to know its scapegoats.

9. When They See Us (Netflix)

Ava DuVernay is the rare popular artist fueled by an irrepressible optimism about building a better future as well as righteous anger about the past and present. She brought both of these defining traits to bear on this four-part drama about the Central Park Five—whom her miniseries rechristened the Exonerated Five. Along with exposing how and suggesting why a broken New York City criminal justice system was so eager to vilify blameless children of color in the aftermath of a monstrous act of sexual violence, DuVernay and her stellar young cast worked with the real Five to create multifaceted portraits of regular kids with hopes, ambitions and communities that suffered as a result of their incarceration. And she found echoes of their story in the current movement against mass incarceration and in the presidency of Donald Trump, who stoked public fury at the boys. When They See Us celebrates the righting of a grievous wrong while acknowledging that no vindication, or remuneration, could fully heal such deep wounds.

8. Watchmen (HBO)

For those of us who haven’t enjoyed our culture’s never-ending superhero craze so much as endured it, the news that the most prestigious of all prestige cable outlets was adapting a DC Comics book sounded kind of like a betrayal. Et tu, HBO? But we should never have doubted The Leftovers creator Damon Lindelof’s ability to make Alan Moore’s brilliant, subversive 1980s classic resonate more than three decades later. Instead of revisiting the Cold War, Lindelof set his Watchmen in an alternate 2019 where the events of the comic are canon, Robert Redford (yes, that one) has been President for decades and a white supremacist group called the Seventh Kavalry is slaughtering police who are loyal to the liberal administration. Into this mess rides masked vigilante Sister Night (Regina King, in the would-be hero role she’s long deserved), a cop who is supposed to have retired from crime-fighting. There is (or should be) enough carryover from Moore’s original to appease its cult fandom, but the show is at its best when contending with our confused, misinformed, politically polarized current reality. And in that respect, it’s every bit as intelligent, provocative and mysterious as it is entertaining.

7. Undone (Amazon)

Fans worried that BoJack Horseman mastermind Raphael Bob-Waksberg would turn out to be a one-hit wonder could take comfort in this wildly imaginative sci-fi dramedy that he co-created with Kate Purdy, about a disaffected young woman (Rosa Salazar’s Alma) who narrowly survives a catastrophic car crash. In hospital-bed visions tied to her sudden physical trauma and preexisting mental illness, Alma reunites with her long-dead father (Bob Odenkirk), learns that he was murdered and allows him to guide her on a time-travel mission to prevent the crime from happening. Yet Undone is more than just a high-concept mystery; it’s a journey into human consciousness, a beautiful example of Rotoscoped animation and a subtle meditation on family, identity and spirituality.

6. David Makes Man (OWN)

The success of Moonlight sent ripples through Hollywood, elevating writer-director Barry Jenkins and a cast including Mahershala Ali, Jharrel Jerome and Janelle Monáe to the highest echelon of their art form. It also opened industry doors for MacArthur honoree Tarell Alvin McCraney, who wrote the play on which the film was based. This year he unveiled David Makes Man, a lyrical drama about a smart, troubled 14-year-old (Akili McDowell, astonishing in his first lead role) in the Florida projects who’s struggling to get into a prestigious high school and avoid being drafted into a gang, while mourning a mentor. Though it shares a lush aesthetic and many themes—black boyhood, complicated role models, queer identity—with Moonlight, the expanded format allows McCraney to explore the people around David. His privileged best friend (Nathaniel McIntyre) suffers abuse at home. His gender-queer neighbor (Travis Coles) takes in runaway LGBT teens and plays a delicate role in the local ecosystem. And his single mother (Alana Arenas), an addict in recovery, holds down a degrading job to keep the bills paid. This isn’t just the old story of excellence and poverty battling for the soul of one extraordinary child; it’s the story of a community where both qualities must coexist.

5. Lodge 49 (AMC)

At least once a year, a series too smart for prime-time gets canned even as network execs re-up long-running bores like NCIS for 24 more functionally identical episodes. In 2019, it was Lodge 49 that ended up on the wrong side of the equation. A loose, semi-stoned account of a young man (Wyatt Russell’s Sean “Dud” Dudley) treading water in the wake of his beloved father’s death, the show expanded over the course of its first season into an allegory for the isolation of contemporary life. The Southern California landscape around Dud, an affable dreamer, and his self-destructive twin sister (Sonya Cassidy) had been scarred by pawn shops, breastaurants, temp agencies, abandoned office parks. Refuge came in the form of the titular cash-strapped fraternal organization, where Dud found two precious things late capitalism couldn’t provide: a sense of community and a mysterious, all-consuming quest. Both propelled him and his cohorts to Mexico in this year’s funny, bittersweet second season; perhaps sensing the end was near, creator Jim Gavin’s finale provided something like closure. Still, the show—which is currently being shopped to streaming services—has plenty left to say. Here’s hoping the producers find a way to, as the fans on Twitter put it, #SaveLodge49.

4. Vida (Starz)

In its short first season, creator Tanya Saracho’s Vida assembled all the elements of a great half-hour drama. Mishel Prada and Melissa Berrera shined as Mexican-American sisters who come home to LA after the death of their inscrutable mom, Vida—only to learn that the building and bar she owned are on the verge of foreclosure. It also turns out that Vida, whose homophobia destroyed her relationship with Prada’s sexually fluid Emma, had married a woman. Meanwhile, their angry teenage neighbor Mari (Chelsea Rendon) raged against gentrification. These storylines coalesced to electrifying effect in this year’s second season, testing the sisters’ tense bond as they found themselves in the crosshairs of activists who saw their desperate efforts to save the family business as acts of treachery from two stuck-up “whitinas.” Thanks largely to the talented Latinx writers and directors Saracho enlisted for the project, Vida brings lived-in nuance to issues like class, colorism and desire—yielding one of TV’s smartest and sexiest shows.

3. Succession (HBO)

Right-wing tycoons and their adult children have gotten plenty of attention in the past few years—most of it negative. So why would anyone voluntarily watch a show in which the nightmare offspring of a Mudoch-like media titan (Brian Cox) compete to become his successor? A rational argument for all the goodwill around Succession might point out the crude poetry of its dialogue (from creator Jesse Armstrong, a longtime Armando Iannucci collaborator), the fearlessness of its cast (give Jeremy Strong an Emmy just for Kendall’s rap) and the knife-twisting accuracy of this season’s digital-media satire (R.I.P. Vaulter). But on a more primal level, one informed by the increasingly rare experience of watching episodes set Twitter ablaze as they aired, I think we’re also getting a collective thrill out of a series that confirms our darkest assumptions about people who thirst for money and power. It’s a catharsis we may well deserve.

2. Russian Doll (Netflix)

To observe that there was a built-in audience for a show created by Natasha Lyonne, Amy Poehler and Leslye Headland in which Lyonne starred as a hard-partying New York City cynic might’ve been the understatement of the year. But even those of us who bought into Russian Doll from the beginning could never have predicted such a resounding triumph. In a story built like the titular nesting doll, Lyonne’s Nadia Vulvokov dies in a freak accident on the night of her 36th birthday. The twist is, instead of moving on to the afterlife or the grave, she finds herself back where she started the evening, at a party in her honor. Nadia is condemned to repeat this cycle of death and rebirth until she levels up in self-knowledge—a process that entails many cigarettes, lots of vintage East Village grit and a not-so-chance encounter with a fellow traveler. Stir in a warm, wry tone and a message of mutual aid, and you’ve got the best new TV show of 2019.

1. Fleabag (Amazon)

Fleabag began its run, in 2016, as a six-episode black comedy about a scornful, neurotic, hypersexual young woman caught in a self-destructive holding pattern of her own making. The premise didn’t immediately distinguish creator and star Phoebe Waller-Bridge as all that different from peers like Lena Dunham, Aziz Ansari and Donald Glover. But the British show’s execution was sharp, funny and daring enough to make it a cult hit on both sides of the Atlantic—and to anoint Waller-Bridge as TV’s next big thing. She went on to helm the exhilarating first season of Killing Eve, giving this year’s second and final season of Fleabag time to percolate. It returned as a more mature but, thankfully, no less audacious show, matching Waller-Bridge’s somewhat reformed Fleabag with an impossible love interest known to fans as the Hot Priest (Andrew Scott). The relationship offered a path to forgiveness for the kind of character most millennial cris de coeur have been content to leave hanging. By allowing Fleabag a measure of grace without sacrificing her life-giving vulgarity, Waller-Bridge conjured the realistic vision of redemption that has so far eluded her contemporaries—and closed out the 2010s with the decade’s single greatest season of comedy.