#and I just. I’m sorry but it’s very delusional to see EVIDENCE that the majority of this country is center right

[lunar-years]

One thing about republicans is that those bastards will band together through hell or high water because they know it benefits them and keeps them in power, and they know how to utilize that joint power to push their agenda and get things done their way. That’s how you get someone like “never trump” J.D. Vance becoming Trump’s VP. Or someone like Megyn Kelly going from feuding with Trump throughout 2016 to speaking at his final rallies in 2024. It’s why even members of Trump’s former staff and (formerly) prominent republicans like Liz Cheney speaking out against him didn’t seem to make any sort of substantial difference. Republicans will still flock to Trump’s majority because it benefits them more than the bits they don’t like harm them.

Meanwhile, democrats tear themselves apart from the inside, refuse to engage in productive conversation, and instead dismiss full board anyone who even slightly disagrees with them, resulting in so much internal divide it’s impossible to see a clear end game or bottom line. Yes, if everyone who voted third party had voted for Kamala, it still wouldn’t have won her the election. But the problem is not merely third party voters, but third party voters plus the apathetic left who saw no point in voting at all (turnout was far lower this election than in 2020) plus the inability of both liberals and leftists to see beyond themselves and their own narrow interpretations of a perfect society to any feasible channels of actually getting CLOSE to there. If we cannot work together, work within existing systems as a starting point instead of leaping to unattainable ideals, and learn how to compromise, nothing is ever, ever going to change. The republicans figured that out a long time ago and it’s why they’re winning and we’re not.

[findafight]

I’m not sure why you’re trying to draw a wedge between so-called “normal shippers” and “extreme” Byler shippers. It sounds very much like the people on Reddit who say stuff like, “Why can’t you just ship Byler and not care about being endgame? Cause obviously Mileven is endgame. Don’t be delusional. Trying to make a divide between different “degrees” of Byler shippers fundamentally misunderstands Byler shippers. 90% of us are in agreement about Byler being canon. If you post content contradictory to that in the tag, that’s functionally equivalent to being a Milkvan. Byler Tumblr is a community of people who are excited for Season 5 because Byler will be endgame. Not only do we believe it is happening, we believe it must happen. That’s because the evidence is overwhelming. Many Bylers say they never experience doubt because they watch the show. Others do experience doubt from time to time because they’ve been queerbaited in the past. But they don’t try to evangelize their doubt, if that makes sense. They ask how they can overcome it.

I'm separating the shippers who are acting like I've murdered a puppy in front of them for the cardinal sin of *checks post* not thinking the writers have enough time to execute the ship going canon well enough to actually be meaningful to the characters in the way that y'all say you want it to be while also dealing with every other plotline, and shippers who want it canon, would be glad that it's canon, but are not acting like not shipping something in the same way they do is not shipping it at all. That's what I'm separating.

I'm sorry the way I ship blr makes you uncomfortable. that sucks. Generalizing a whole ship community is not where it's at though. You're actually likely making less strict shippers uncomfortable by lumping them in with this kind of thing. You're making me uncomfortable, and I also like the ship! There will always be degrees of shipping within a particular ship. ALWAYS. You as and individual shippper, or even a particular group of shippers do not dictate how anyone else can interpret a relationship! You are very welcome to believe it is endgame canon. That it was planned from the beginning and will be a love story for the ages. More power to you. But I don't have to. In my original post, I mentioned that i do think Mike likely has feelings for Will. I was just saying that with the way the show has handled other relationships, it's unlikely that it won't be rushed if it happens. If they pull it off I'll be happy!

But hey. Maybe I am fundamentally misunderstanding a group of thousands of people with thousands of different opinions by not thinking they all believe the exact same thing. My bad.

"Not only do we believe it is happening, we believe it must happen. That’s because the evidence is overwhelming. Many Bylers say they never experience doubt because they watch the show. Others do experience doubt from time to time because they’ve been queerbaited in the past. But they don’t try to evangelize their doubt, if that makes sense. They ask how they can overcome it."

You realize that this is not how everyone, likely not even the majority of people, engage and interact in fandom, right? That this kind of dogmatic belief is not healthy? that calling anyone who expresses that "hey! maybe the writers didn't plan this all out and it might not be a perfect ending!" a non"believer" is wack? I'm not "evangelizing". I'm talking about theories or meta I have about the show and the relationships that happen to contradict what many other people think. It sucks that it made you feel bad.

Also. You cannot be queerbaited by Will because queerbaiting requires teasing queerness/queer ships, and never intending on actually making them queer. You cannot be queerbaited by a character who is canonically queer! It would be a big deal, and yes very important for a lot of, to see representation with Mike and Will getting together. But a person or character's queerness is not defined by their relationship status. Even single, Will is gay. He is already representation. They cannot take that away from him, whether or not he ends up with mike

[nikethestatue]

so let’s break something down here because my mind is like ?????

i was reading this random thread and someone pointed out how majority of the acotar shippers for Az are gwynr*els.

now, how in the world is that logically possible? Canonly possible? there was no hint of any romance between the two in the acosf or the bonus chapter per se. now you can ship who you like but I’m m just trying to understand this by logic and numbers.

I do not know how true this is, so correct me if I am wrong but how can there be so many of them with nothing in canon to go off of? there needs to be a scientific research on this.

there is no way all these people are gwyr*el or gw*n fans because if they are claiming that we don’t know a lot about Elain, heck than what do we know or a side character who was only introduced in the most recent book? Also how well do we know Azriel outside of everyone else pov just like Elaine?

Now I want to hear your thoughts and others from the fandom that want to chime in. But here is what i think: a good majority of gwynr*els are first and foremost Elain haters/dislikers and that can only be for the following reasons plus more, give me some of yours if you can.

1. First: the read acosf as a stand alone: which still makes no sense but if someone doesn’t have the brain capacity to think wait this can’t possibly be a stand alone? How can we expect them to have the reading comprehension to pick up on all the 4 books and the novela’s foreshadowing and clear evidence that Elaine has been involved in every single aspect. Even though we don’t see her often, we still see that she does so much. How does your brain not register that? outside of ships, let’s be real for a second. This is ridiculous to me.

2 . She has more feminine traits and they want all woman to be warrior princess with a sword. apparently you are strong or exciting if you don’t sword play or ar

3. they self insert

Azriel wants Elaine and you have to be delusional to deny that lol. but moreover this whole Elaine doesn’t challenge Azriel thing sends me because first of all we don’t know them enough to assume they don’t challenge one another. But also, not everyone wants to be challenged. Have you all ever wondered why Azriel choose Elaine and not anyone else? Because maybe just because he wants peace and quiet??

Honestly I forgot where I was going with this lol but yeah I’m saying the numbers aren’t adding up. I feel like on tiktok/insta a lot of casual viewers + like, like things and move along but it’s in the polls where we see the actual numbers. for instance that whole Romeo&Juliette art send them freaking with “we refrained from voting” 😭

Sorry for the rant, but in hindsight, what I am asking is: how do these numbers make sense? How does this ship make any sense? Where are these ppl getting the nerve from?

One word answer to all your questions:

TikTok

The rise of Gwynriel directly coincides with the rise of booktok and TikTok.

Now, you can just blather on and on without anyone checking for facts. You can make up any headcanon, and if you are someone with lots of followers or convincing enough, people will simply think that you are telling the truth. That it actually happened in the books.

That's why the most common questions from newly minted Gwynriels, who've been drinking from the TikTok and Insta firehouse, is 'where is the Gwynriel book?' 'where can i read all the cute Gwynriel scenes?" 'i saw adorable art of Gwyn and Az, what scene was it?"

The answer is:

YOU CAN'T FIND IT BECAUSE IT DOESN'T EXIST.

But essentially, that's how it got started and how it spread. No other vehicle was more useful to useful idiots than TikTok.

They think that ACOSF is chockful of Gwynriel, and then, when they finally read the book, it they are very disappointed because there are no Gwynriel scenes.

They attribute 'you are the new ribbon' saying to Gwyn, even though of course it was Nesta who said it.

They think that Gwyn is walking around parading in her regifted necklace. No she isn't.

They think Azriel just about confessed his love to her, where as all he thinks about is Elain.

It's really quite sad.

But that's why you have to check your sources and your facts.

[mantistog]

Yandere headcanons for Sherlock Holmes and John Watson (separated), please. I love how you write!! You interpret very well the actions that each character would do, I want to read more about your fanfics. 🥰💖💖💖💖😊😊😊

You’re welcome sweetie haha, even if this is insanely late. I’m sorry if headcanons seem a bit messy, they are not my forte but I am trying my besssttt <3

_____________________________________________________

SHERLOCK HOLMES YANDERE HEADCANONS:

A lot of the times it seems like Sherlock is just acting socially inept, but when it comes to romance he truly is very inexperienced.

At first he tries to impress you, which a lot of the time comes out as one upping you or proving you stupid.

Needless to say, not the best way to kindle a romance between two people.

He will probably quickly realize that this does the opposite of what he desires (you realizing that he is the perfect mate) and switch tactics.

He will take note of hobbies, goals and just likes in general. He will actually bring these up in conversation. 

He will put an insane amount of research into these things to be able to hold an intelligent conversation about them. 

He will learn more about stuff you appreciate through stalking you. This is where his more intense feelings start to develop. 

Sherlock is a competitive man and a covetous one. 

If you favour other people or if he notices you being friendly with other people more so than him, he will do anything in his power to out do them and even make them look bad in your eyes. He might even fake evidence of them doing something horrible just to completely get them out the game.

If you still don’t favour him after framing or out performing all your friends he will most likely kidnap you.

At this point you might not even have known his advances were romantic in nature. If you voice this he will be upset- but understanding.

Either way, he can’t let you go now. 

He will definitely use some pavlovian tactics or some psychological manipulation he has learned through reading to make you show some sort of love for him while in his possession. 

Very lenient though, but with a temper. Just don’t do anything you know he doesn’t like or he will throw a tantrum. 

JOHN WATSON YANDERE HEADCANONS:

This guy is a very obvious flirter, very straightforward.

He is the kind of person who will just straight up ask you out on a date.

If you decline, fine. Completely fine. Hey, you can still be friends right?

Will act as simply a very good friend for a while. But sometimes he will still ask if you’ve changed your mind whenever something happens between you or you get closer.

He’s a gentleman like that.

Otherwise there is really no clear sign of his obsession. Unless you look at his phone gallery just filled with pictures of you. Pictures that are taken without your consent. Probably a thousand. Nothing major.

He’s also just a big romantic and will do literally anything to make you see him in a better light. The kind of dude who will almost always agree with you.

He doesn’t really have a point of no return or a moment where he snaps the same way Sherlock does. His obsession grows more gradually over a span of a long time. 

Boiling frog syndrome style. You won’t even realize something is wrong before it’s too late and you’re too close. 

John will never kidnap you. It’s more like, he will keep you if you try to leave. By the point where you’re close enough to want to detach yourself or break up, he’s put in too much work to let you leave him. You’re staying where you are, no matter what sort of relationship you and him have. 

From here it might escalate into him being more openly obsessed and he will be more forward in what he wants. But he will never disregard your consent in any way, besides keeping you close to him against your wishes.

He has a good temper and is very lenient too, letting you do anything you want within reason.

Slightly delusional though so if you try to make him see how insane the scenario is, prepare to feel unheard. He’s going to argue with you about what you need and make excuses, avoiding the fact you’re not even in a relationship.

[fuckingrealityshifting]

1// hi there, before you get too far, I want to say that I am trying to say this with all the kindness in my heart, and that I do, truly care for yall, and this is why im typing this now. I stumbled across your blog via your 'shifting terms' post, and I explored the idea of shifting and the shiftblr community a bit. I read all of your sources (although I don’t really believe most of them are credible enough) ((it could just be the uni student in me tho)) and I can't help but worry for you and

2// the shifting community. As I understand, most of you are still quite young, and while I haven’t tried to shift (I have a deep paranoia of developing a psychotic disorder), I fear that this practice could affect the young minds in this community in an unprecedented way. I am /not/ saying that any of you are delusional, im not saying its fake, im not saying i dont believe you. But many of you have mentioned how shifting is a) not dangerous and b) similar to astral projecting.

3// This is where I begin to worry, in my understanding, astral projecting is VERY dangerous, so if what you are doing is similar i dont believe it is a good idea. Especially for young people. Adolescent brains are very prone to mental illness, and I fear by placing yourselves in this situation you could eventually damage your mind. I dont mean to preach or anything, i just know a lot of you are young and i think you should be aware of the dangers of what you are doing,

4// because it could affect you in the long run. But stay safe, watch over each other and i wish yall the best. (ps. im sorry this was long)

/////end of ask

Okay so I just wanted to first say it would be okay if you didn’t believe or thought I was mentally ill and stated such! An ask like this is useful because it can start an actual conversation; I have concerns besides just disbelief to go off. Astral projection, being young, etc. I thank you for that and for leaving asks.

I don’t want people to think it’s not okay to be open about not believing. I know with the whole rating stuff rather than responding to comments it might seem like that, but I’m just going to brush off what doesn’t have a purpose other than bringing people down because there’s no point in repeating myself.

If it’s clearly meant to be sarcastic or has a punchline or comment for the sake of being rude or feeling like you’re superior (“get a hobby”) then I’m just not gonna humor you. I’m not intending to shut down all concerns at all.

About the sources��yeah, I do agree, a lot of the sources aren’t very credible, I totally acknowledge that. I also acknowledge even if they were all done by very credible sources the findings wouldn’t be absolutely decisive.

That’s kind of the fault of a lack of experimentation in scientific/professional spaces regarding anything spiritual and just the nature of spirituality itself. At the end of the day it’s mainly the suggestion of the findings that are important to spiritual people looking for evidence. I’m not sure if I worded that all coherently lol

I’m gonna answer these two points in reverse

Shifting is b.) similar to astral projection

So when I say similar to astral projection, I mean mainly in the fact you are perceiving stuff outside of your body and projecting. It’s a similar concept, and a bit of a similar practice, but not entirely.

With shifting, you are projecting your consciousness, and with astral projection, you are projecting your astral self/soul.

(I haven’t researched as much into the specifics of astral projection as I have for shifting so feel free to correct me! My understanding of astral projection is that your soul/astral self projects from your body to wander the astral realm.)

I’m gonna copy and paste some stuff I said in a dm message to someone who had a similar concern.

When a person shifts, their soul remains in their body. Your consciousness/awareness of reality is what is in another universe. When a person asteral projects, their soul leaves their body and can travel different realms of the universe.

When a person astral projects, they can come across spirits, deities, and harmful entities. They can take damage to the soul. They can change their astral form. Astral projection is dangerous. It is highly recommended not to astral project without protection.

When a person shifts, they are in a normal reality and do not need protection. Protection doesn’t hurt, as it doesn’t hurt to have protection in this reality, but its not necessary. (Precautions should always be taken.)

If they die in their desired reality, their soul is fine so they just come back. There is no danger of death. Your consciousness or alternate self (“clone”) can also go about your day while you are shifted which I have never heard about for astral projection.

The differences between your spirit projecting outside of your body and your consciousness projecting into another reality is why shifting is generally regarded as safer and as needing less precaution.

shifting is a. not dangerous

Well, not inherently. But like most anything it can be used dangerously. Some of the precautions that should be taken are:

•educating yourself properly before shifting

•grounding yourself (an ungrounded shifter can have issues)

•making sure you are not depending on shifting for anything or using it as unhealthy escapism

•understanding spirituality concepts even if you’re not practicing

I have a Staying Safe While Shifting post that has been in my drafts forever because I want to finish my mental health series to link it in the post, but I’ve been procrastinating finishing the mental health series because of the ADHD and shifting topic, which I believe I have.

We do have a majority of young people on the community—middle to older teens, I think. Most adults interested in this sort of thing participate under Quantum Jumping, a term that’s been around longer, which seems more online forum based.

Overall, yes. Shifting when exposed to the wrong people can absolutely harm mental health. I think we’re seeing it on TikTok. I just don’t have the power to make sure only people who can mentally take it see it. I just have to do my best to educate people on how reality shifting works so delusions or misunderstandings are hopefully easier to spot.

I absolutely thank you for the thoughtful message and if I brought up more concerns let me know.

[mashounen2003]

Sonic opinions - 1

Honestly, I think it's time for me to give closure to the “Sonic fan phase” of my life. I’ll keep playing the games if they pique my interest, but in terms of the stories they tell and how their characters are portrayed, these games no longer appeal to me. The comic currently published by IDW isn’t complete garbage nor does it have so much drama and controversy surrounding it, in addition to having Whisper and Tangle, two characters I really like at least on a conceptual level, but the story and characterizations are leaving me deeply disappointed and sometimes fall even lower than the recent games written by Pontac & Graff, namely with regard to the characterization of Sonic himself.

The continuity of the TV series Sonic SatAM and the comics published by Archie was always the branch of the franchise that truly caught my attention and is my main source of inspiration for writing stories; in fact, SatAM was the way I found out about Sonic and became a fan in the first place. But this “North-American continuity” is already as dead as the Mega Man Legends saga, and it looks like the vast majority want to forget it as if each and every one of its elements and ideas inherently had just been a massive nightmare regardless of its execution by the writers. At best, the fandom currently sees this branch of Sonic as some silly “edgy” attempt to take the franchise seriously, something that may have been laudable but was always foolish and doomed to fail and is such a risky gamble that it's not worth trying again.

I'm also getting fed up with the Sonic fandom in general, despite sharing a lot of opinions with some individual fans. Yes, I know there are already many who have declared this for the most varied reasons, be it the “shipp wars”, something in Sonic or even the franchise as a whole suddenly becoming “cringe” due to a whim of a majority portion of the fandom, or the way Sonic reuses "hackneyed" tropes in an alleged demonstration of lack of originality; however, when someone gives Sonic the middle finger for this kind of reasons, they usually do it hypocritically.

No, what got me tired of the Sonic fandom is the way everyone becomes obsessed with picking one branch of the franchise, calling it "the true Sonic", claiming this is the only pure and genuine incarnation of the “soul of Sonic” (if there really is such a thing), marking as “foreigner” every character, concept or element from any other branch of the franchise, and demanding from the fans of those other branches to get on their knees and be thankful that the "True Fans (TM)" even allow them to stay in the fandom. Note that I’m not accusing fans of only one specific portion of the franchise: there are such people among fans of the videogames’ continuity, @skull001 being probably the worst offender, but there’s also that kind of people among the SatAM and Archie-Sonic fans, such as the “nostalgic” delusional pissbabies, blatantly homophobic and conservative, who are now supporting Twitter hashtags like “Rally4Sally” and “Udon4Sonic”. You may think this is actually something typical of all fandoms, but it’s not: this is truly something unique to the Sonic fandom; I don't see huge hordes of Mega Man fans bullying the Legends fandom or making fun of them for the way their favourite saga ended two decades ago; even in the Dragon Ball fandom, despite constant discussions about what is canon and what is not, there’s some kind of tacit consensus that GT and Super are two offshoots of the franchise, equally valid although not coexisting in one same fictional universe (although Shūeisha itself seems to officially support this view, which certainly helps prevent some discourse), while the only part of Dragon Ball universally despised (and rightly so) is Dragon Ball Evolution.

I'm sorry if this hurts some people’s sensibilities, but if I decide to write a story with any given set of characters, elements, concepts, setting, internal rules and whatnot, the only thing in my mind will be to write a mildly decent story. I'm not here to “honour” -let alone honour at all costs- some supposed legacy and traditions that some people say should be upheld by each and every Sonic content creator. And let’s be brutally frank: we’re talking about a franchise that started as platformer 16-bit videogames whose sole purpose was to show SEGA’s consoles were better and handled speed better than Nintendo's; SEGA never really intended to tell a story or portray its characters consistently, only later did the cast begin to receive more defined personalities and the games start telling stories because SEGA suddenly saw this would make them sell more, and even that varied wildly according to whatever seemed more convenient at the time; not to mention SEGA's unique habit of entering vicious cycles of failure and over-correction, where Sonic Team makes a few mistakes in a game that did everything else more or less well, SEGA throws away the entire game along with the foundations on which it was built and the story that was told by that game, Sonic Team makes a new game with absolutely everything replaced and makes mistakes again but those mistakes are different from those of the previous game, the process is repeated ad nauseam and no-one is ever satisfied with anything. A few Sonic fans trying to impose on every other fan a supposed single Sonic canon with some kind of official approval seal by SEGA & Sonic Team is something quite backward, because that single official canon almost never really existed, and if it does exist, it makes no sense and is internally inconsistent, dependent on the creation of new games, and very likely to be retconned, overwritten and modified at any time.

There are other "bad habits" of the Sonic fandom that have led me to break ties with them. One of them is the way many fans take one trait of a character, be it simply one of many facets of their personality or even a physical trait, and turn that into the entire personality of the character; many of those same fans are also massive hypocrites, complaining (albeit rightfully) about how SEGA oversimplifies Shadow into either “Sasuke the Hedgehog” or “Vegeta the Hedgehog”, but then they do the same as SEGA. One of the cases in which this is most evident is when they make Sonic's personality boil down to "gotta go fast" and "be a free spirit"; based on that, they denounce that Sonic saying "I would slow down for you" to one of his closest friends (even if Sonic and Sally weren’t a couple when he said that and/or you don’t support that shipp, it can be said she was at least one of his closest friends in the SatAM-Archie continuity) contradicts the very essence of the character, or they do something even worse: saying that "being a free spirit" means being away from your friends and not having "ties" (like... literal ties, made with ropes, the ones that are actually a bad thing) with anything or anyone. It's like when Goku is portrayed by Dragon Ball fans as far more insensitive than the actual way Akira Toriyama had conceived him and always wrote and portrayed him in his official work.

There are also the plainly disturbing ideas many fans seem to have about personal relationships, judging by the opinions they give about the relationships of Sonic and the rest of the cast. In addition to making everything revolve around vaguely defined words and concepts they throw right and left almost without thinking about their actual meaning, they also seem to believe that having friends and caring for them, or any kind of responsibility no matter what kind it is, is nothing but a drag, like rat-s*** stopping you on your way to "freedom" (this is just amazing: they say the entire Western canon is edgy and the British comic’s Sonic is a jerk, but if you think about this for a bit, these fans’ version of Sonic turns out to be even edgier and more of a jerk than Shadow in his spin-off videogame); in the case of Archie-Sonic, there are all the abuse apologists supporting Scourge and Fiona being a couple, even though you don’t need any “meta” analysis to see he’s (at the very least) verbally abusive towards her and had attracted her by posing as someone else in the first place.

[bakagamieru]

-flops down- Howwwwwwwwwwwwwwwwww are we still HERE, Gami? It feels like March 25th happened yesterday, with the way this ugly narrative is going. I'm so tired. I can't believe we waited all this time and NOTHING has changed re OT5. (Don't get me wrong, I love the boys' solo careers, but GOD I wish I'd gotten the fuck out the same day that FB post dropped, sigh)

I feel you, for sure.  Lately I feel like I’m here as a job more than because I enjoy it.  I go through the new events every day (not helped by the update accounts that are cluttering my dash with throwbacks rather than... you know, updates) just so that I’m active, but I almost never actually watch interviews or read articles anymore, and I haven’t even listened to all the albums that are out.  I’m just going through the motions right now.

I love all the boys individually, but I’ve always been a fan mainly of boy bands.  I love the band dynamic, so much so that I was watching an old TV show recently and realized that a group of 4 characters felt like a boy band.  My boyfriend then told me I was watching the Monkees, and I was like “Oh, I really can spot it without having a clue beforehand.”  I love being able to participate vicariously in the friendship and watch all the personalities bounce off of each other. 

Unfortunately, that’s exactly what we’re not getting with all the boys being solo.  I watched Niall and Liam’s livestream from a few days ago and it almost made me cry with how happy I was to see them laughing together.  I still want that and I think that I could get really into the band again if we’re given that, but right now it’s been such a long drought and I’m just not feeling the spark with them all separate.

I think I could even be a fan of the band without Zayn, but that’s ONLY if the Zayn situation is resolved.  If it’s not, then all I’ll ever feel when looking at OT4 is an ache of what should be and isn’t (not to mention frustration that the majority of the fandom will continue to think they’re right and to demonize Zayn).  I need Zayn to be on good terms with the boys publicly and to know that it’s his decision not to return and that everyone is ok with that if I’m to be a fan of the band without him.

I 100% believe that Zayn didn’t leave of his own accord and that he was supposed to return before the end of OTRA (I don’t see how anyone who actually looks at the evidence could believe otherwise, I mean there were 4 or 5 overlapping patterns of shade pointing to the same day for heaven’s sake), but time can change plans.  

I have no idea how much Zayn actually gets stage anxiety or how much he wants to perform.  My first instinct is still to say that he does fine when in a band at least and that his solo career was DEFINITELY sabotaged so it’s very likely that his not performing was not his decision.  However, it’s possible that he could decide during the hiatus that he’s happier out of the spotlight.  

That worries me because in that scenario, we’ll never get a proper resolution.  We’ll never know for sure if Zayn is coming back until he just... doesn’t... and doesn’t... and still doesn’t.

The things Liam has been saying about Zayn lately make me wonder if there’s any way the boys could let us know that Zayn’s not coming back that I’d actually believe.  Is Liam saying those things because it’s the same old bullshit narrative or is it because Zayn IS happier out of the spotlight and won’t be coming back and he’s trying to manage our expectations?  How am I supposed to know?  I don’t want to be that person that refuses to believe anything they’re told to the point of delusional denial, but when the situation has been so messed up from the start, how am I supposed to believe anything that plays into the negative narrative?

What I normally go off of is the outliers.  I look at the things the boys do that don’t fit the official narrative and those let me know that I’m right about the official narrative being bullshit.  Unfortunately, with the amount of time that’s passed and with Zayn being MIA 99% of the time, we’re not exactly getting a constant flow of shade/hints anymore.  The stuff that we do get is a lot more ambiguous and it’s hard to tell if it’s even intentional or if it’s just easy to read into.

I know that normally I’m saying that I’m in it for the long haul and to just hold on, but it would be willfully blind to ignore the possibility that we may not end up getting an OT5 reunion in the end.  That doesn’t mean we were wrong about the whole thing though.  And hey, we may still get that OT5 reunion.  I’m only talking about possibilities here.

I’m sorry to be a downer, but I feel like it’s only reasonable to acknowledge these feelings.  I’m pretty sure everyone who’s still here has thought some, if not all, of these things.  I’ll still be here for now, and I’ll let you know if that changes.

[sadclownkingg]

A Scene-by-Scene Joker (2019) Analysis: Part 1/?

The first part of what I wrote in my Cursed Notebook™ instead of sleeping/doing my schoolwork a month ago. Basically what I did is I watched the movie one time through, then started it over from the beginning and stopped after every scene to recap and infer what Arthur’s inner thoughts/motivations are. I went through an entire pen writing all this down and I was also very sleep-deprived so prepare yourselves. (I’ve also seen this movie 12 times now so I’d like to think I know what I’m talking about, but if you have any concerns, just message me!)

Before the Movie (+ Diagnosis):

Arthur Fleck is completely alone in this world, with no one to lean on except for his mother. And he is forced to take care of her due to her old age and fragility, all the while facing near-total isolation and societal backlash for just trying to do his job or his neurological condition/mental illness.

Given the abuse he faced as a child, at the hands of his mother's boyfriend, and the head trauma explicitly mentioned later in the film, that could be the origin of his Pseudobulbar affect (pathological laughter). Pseudobulbar affect (PBA) "is a condition that's characterized by episodes of sudden uncontrollable and inappropriate laughing or crying. Pseudobulbar affect typically occurs in people with certain neurological conditions or injuries, which might affect the way the brain controls emotion," and has "traumatic brain injury" as a common cause. The way I see it, the "severe trauma to his head" he experienced as a kid is the direct cause of his pathological laughter, meaning that he has spent the vast majority of his life dealing with this condition and it is mainly his own mother's fault. This makes the fact that his "mother" is the only person he has left even more frustrating and tragic. Pseudobulbar Affect is also known to cause/amplify anxiety, depression, and social isolation, meaning his obvious depressive symptoms may stem from the rejection he feels due to his laughing condition.

Also, although I know that even the writers behind the film say that diagnosing Arthur is pretty much useless, I still feel it is important to mention some possible diagnoses. Due to his severe depression throughout the majority of the movie, one could assume he simply has Clinical Depression. However, when paired with his transformation into the Joker at the end of the film and his obviously manic state, this leads one to believe that Bipolar Disorder could be the culprit. But then there is also his hallucinations and delusions, which suggests the presence of some type of schizophrenia. Psychosis, or loss of touch with reality (exhibited by the aforementioned hallucinations and delusions), is a symptom commonly linked with schizophrenia and similar disorders, and is typically caused by trauma and extreme stress. The psychotic episodes we see in the film, from his relationship with Sophie to the audience reactions we hear when he's practicing for the Murray Franklin Show, all center around either erotomanic delusions or grandiose delusions. Erotomanic delusions are when the disordered person believes someone is in love with them with no real evidence (Sophie), and grandiose delusions are when the person believes that they have much greater worth and power than they do, and that they may be famous with a bunch of adoring fans (the Joker persona).

With the presence of psychotic episodes, this narrows the amount of possible diagnoses. It is unlikely that Psychotic Disorder or Paranoid/Hebephrenic Schizophrenia are responsible due to their explicit tendency to completely disrupt the sufferer's life and negatively affect communication/speech patterns (which isn't noticeable in Arthur's case). Delusional Disorder seems likely, but he meets too many of the criteria of another disorder for it to be his sole diagnosis. This disorder is Schizoaffective Disorder, and is "a chronic mental health condition that involves symptoms of both schizophrenia and a mood disorder like major depressive disorder or bipolar disorder.” This diagnosis seems much more apt for Arthur, due to the heavy emphasis on his depressive and manic states and the delusional/hallucinatory symptoms. Schizoaffective Disorder is also likely caused by extreme stress (which Arthur faces a lot of) or structural brain issues (head trauma can cause structures in the brain to be damaged).

Sorry for the long tangent, but I felt it was necessary to set the scene for how Arthur processes the events that happen to him throughout the film.

His mental illness and condition make his life incredibly difficult and emotionally draining. Even his job, which is something he seems to really enjoy, only causes more problems for him, and pushes more people away. And even though he loves his job, he dreams of being comedian rather than just a party clown, probably hoping for more respect while still doing the thing he loves: making people laugh. His sense of humor is rather off-beat, focusing on self-deprecation, dry humor, and sometimes revolving around morbid subject matter, so he instead changes it to better fit what style of humor is generally accepted by those around him. He really tries to do what he wants to do in life, but everyone around him seems to just want him to sit and stay quiet. No matter what he does the people around him are never satisfied. He's doing too much and too little at the same time. He's trying to gain recognition, and people stop that from happening, then he just tries to lay low and let life happen and people look on him with disdain, as he's just another poor person who "isn't trying hard enough" to escape his current life of near-poverty. His job pays the bills, and is the sole source of income as Penny is obviously to ill to work.

No one wants to stop and give him a chance. He feels as though the world is getting more and more incompatible with every aspect of who he is. The city he's lived in his whole life is getting buried in trash from the garbage strike. His mother is getting sicker. The therapy he’s getting is sub-par and the social programs he relies on are gradually being defunded, another way people are shoving him aside. His dreams are as far away as they've ever been, or maybe even further away, and it feels like he is going nowhere but down. He's grown disillusioned with the idea of socializing in order to solely get to know someone because no one ever does the same for him. People ignore his existence, and his mother, the only person he has, is only there because she's too old and sick to have a choice. He's trying so desperately to be happy but it's painful. 

(Next Scene: Opening)

[abusybuzzingbee]

Phantom Traveler | Supernatural Season 1 Episode 4 Rewrite | Dean x Fem!Reader

A/N::: I’m so sorry I was away for so long, I have been very involved in the black lives matter movement on my other social media, and have been taking the time to participate in protests around my city. If you would like to get involved in the movement but don’t know how, I would be happy to point you in the direction of helpful websites for petitions you can sign and places you can donate to. Please take this time to do your part and stick up for our black brothers and sisters.

Pairing: Dean Winchester x Fem!Reader

Major Characters: Dean Winchester, Reader, Sam Winchester

Warnings: Canon level violence, language, Dean and the reader being assholes to each other

Word Count: 7,927

Summary: The boys and the reader get a call from a man Dean and John worked a job for in the past. We learn a little bit about the reader’s past hunting experience, and possibly a newfound fear for her. 

Series Masterlist

Season 1 Masterlist

Click here for the series playlist!

You were sound asleep, curled up into yourself when a knock on the door brought you out of your slumber. 

“(Y/N)?”

‘Sam.’

“I got coffee, thought you could use some,” he called through the door.

You pushed yourself up out of the bed as you yawned, and walked over to the door of your motel room to open it for Sam. 

“Dude, you realize it’s six in the morning, right?” You scratched your head as you let Sam into the room.

“You sound like my brother.”

You playfully glared at him. “Don’t compare me to that asshole.”

“Here.” He handed you a coffee and a bag of what you assumed was a pastry.

“Thanks,” you replied, sitting on your bed with your stuff in hand. 

“Dean found a case,” the younger Winchester informed you.

“Oh, yeah? What’s up?”

Sam sat on the chair across from your bed near the table. “We don’t know. The guy on the phone didn’t say.”

“Guy on the phone?” You took a sip of your coffee as you let Sam answer.

“Yeah. Some guy my dad and Dean worked a case for a while back’s got another one for us. He called Dean.”

“Ah--” you nodded, “--gotcha. So, where’s he live?”

“Pennsylvania,” Sam responded. 

“Okay, not too far,” you noted. “I’ll be ready in fifteen.”

***

“Thanks for making the trip so quick,” a short older man named Jerry told you and the boys. “I ought to be doing you guys a favor, not the other way around. Dean and your dad really helped me out.”

You were walking beside Sam as you followed behind the man who was having you do this job. You were being led through a warehouse past planes as well as their parts as well as people hard at work.

“Yeah, he told me. It was a poltergeist?” Sam asked the older man.

Someone walking in front of your group was eavesdropping on you. “Poltergeist? Man, I loved that movie.”

“Hey, nobody's talking to you. Keep walking,” Jerry stated authoritatively to the man. He turned his attention back to the conversation. “Damn right it was a poltergeist, practically tore our house apart.” He addressed Dean. “Tell you something, if it wasn't for you and your dad, I probably wouldn't be alive. Your dad said you were off at college. Is that right?”

“Yeah, I was. I'm—taking some time off,” Sam explained.

“Well, he was real proud of you. I could tell. He talked about you all the time.”

“He did?”

“Yeah, you bet he did,” Jerry nodded. “Oh, hey, you know I tried to get a hold of him, but I couldn't. How's he doing, anyway?”

“He's, um, wrapped up in a job right now,” Dean lied. 

“Well, we're missing the old man, but we get Sam and-- what’s your name again?” he asked you.

“(Y/N).”

“(Y/N). Even trade, huh?”

“Eh, I wouldn’t say that,” you laughed.

“Say, (Y/N), how’d you get wrapped up with these two?”

“Oh, uh--”

‘Time to improvise. Probably not the best time to get into the daddy dearest situation.’

“--I met them on a hunt in California, I had just lost my hunting partner and was in need of some new ones.”

“Well, I’m glad you’re here. The guys are gonna need backup with this one,” Jerry described. 

“Why?” you asked.

He did not give a direct answer to your question. “I got something I want you guys to hear.”

He led you to his office where you and Sam took the two chairs and Dean stood behind his brother.

”I listened to this. And, well, it sounded like it was up your alley,” Jerry stated, putting a CD into a drive. “Normally I wouldn't have access to this. It's the cockpit voice recorder for United Britannia flight 2485. It was one of ours.”

A frantic voice immediately rang out from the speaker as soon as the recording started. “Mayday! Mayday! Repeat! This is United Britania 2485--” the recording cut out with a static sound, “--immediate instruction help! United Britanis 2485, I copy your message--” and cut out again, “--May be experiencing some mechanical failure--” and then cut out one last time. The man’s voice was completely drowned out by static, whooshing, and growling sounds.

“Took off from here, crashed about two hundred miles south,” Jerry continued. “Now, they're saying mechanical failure. Cabin depressurized somehow. Nobody knows why. Over a hundred people on board. Only seven got out alive. Pilot was one. His name is Chuck Lambert. He's a good friend of mine. Chuck is, uh...well, he's pretty broken up about it. Like it was his fault.”

“You don't think it was?” Sam questioned him.

“No, I don't.”

“Jerry, we're gonna need passenger manifests, um, a list of survivors,” Sam listed.

“All right,” the man replied.

“And, uh, any way we can take a look at the wreckage?” Dean inquired.

“The other stuff is no problem. But the wreckage...guys--and gal--the NTSB has it locked down in an evidence warehouse. No way I've got that kind of clearance.” Jerry shook his head.

You frowned.

“No problem,” Dean declared.

You gave him a questioning look to which he shrugged off.

***

“How fucking long does it take to make a fake ID?” you groaned, falling back across the backseat of the Impala. You and Sam had found a way to isolate the EVP on Sam’s computer, having gotten a copy of the tape from Jerry.

“I don’t know,” Sam responded. “But I’m gonna lose it if it’s much longer.”

“Same here.” At that moment, Dean walked out of the Copy Jack the Impala was sitting in front of as a pretty woman walked into the store. 

They greeted each other before Dean walked over to you and his brother.

“Dude,” you started, “You’ve been in there forever.”

“Wah-wah,” he whined, mocking you. “You can’t rush perfection.” He held up three IDs.

“Homeland Security?” Sam questioned as he took one of the IDs. “That's pretty illegal, even for us.”

“Yeah, well, it's something new. You know? People haven't seen it a thousand times,” Dean pointed out as he got into the car.

“All right, so, what do you got?” Dean asked his brother as he flicked your ID back at you. It hit you square in the side of the head. 

“Dude, really?” you hissed, aggravation clear in your tone.

“Shhh,” the older Winchester hushed you as he waited for Sam to answer.

“Well, there's definitely EVP on the cockpit voice recorder,” Sam explained.

“Yeah?”

“Listen.”

The isolated voice of what you were dealing with came through the recording scratchy and backed by demonic growling sounds. “No survivors!”

“’ No survivors’?” Dean asked. “What's that supposed to mean? There were seven survivors.”

You shrugged.

Dean let out a sigh. “So, what are we thinking? A haunted flight?” 

“There's a long history of spirits and death omens on planes and ships, like phantom travelers,” Sam began.

Dean hummed in affirmation.

“Or remember flight 401?”

“Right. The one that crashed, the airline salvaged some of its parts, put it in other planes, then the spirit of the pilot and copilot haunted those flights.”

“I don’t know, guys,” you stated skeptically. “Ghost just doesn’t feel right.”

“Well, thanks for your optimism, sunshine,” Dean quipped.

“It’s not about optimism, you asshole, it’s about being right and dealing with whatever we’re up against properly,” you pushed back.

“Know-it-all,” the older Winchester replied. 

“Fuck off, Winchester.”

He let out a breath and turned his attention back to the case.“All right, so, survivors, which one do you want to talk to first?”

"Third on the list: Max Jaffey,” you said.

“I wasn’t talking to you, but why him?”

You glared at Dean. “Because if anybody saw something weird, he did. I talked to his mom while you were spending forever in the store. She said some pretty weird shit and told me where to find him. He was so screwed up, he checked himself into the hospital.”

***

You and the Winchesters walked beside Max Jaffey, who hobbled on a cane, through the Riverfront Psychiatric Hospital’s garden. 

“I don't understand. I already spoke with Homeland Security,” Max told your trio.

“Right. Some new information has come up,” Dean lied. “So if you could just answer a couple questions...”

“Just before the plane went down, did you notice anything...unusual?” Sam questioned.

Max looked confused. “Like what?”

“Strange lights, weird noises, maybe. Voices,” Dean offered. 

“No, nothing.”

Seeing as no one was getting anywhere with this investigation, you tried your hand at it. “Mr. Jaffey, you checked yourself in here, right?”

He nodded at you.

“Why?”

“Uh, I was a little stressed,” he said sarcastically. “I survived a plane crash.”

“Uh-huh,” you nodded. “And that’s what scared you? That’s what screwed you up so badly?”

You could tell you were close to the answers you were after as he swallowed uncomfortably. “I--I don't want to talk about this anymore.”

“I know, but I also know you saw something up there,” you continued. “We need to know what.”

“No.” Max shook his head. “No, I was...delusional. Seeing things.”

“He was seeing things,” Dean half-mocked him.

You shot a warning glance at Dean, hoping to get him to shut up. 

“It's okay,” you coaxed. “Just tell us what you thought you saw, please.”

“There was...this—man. And, uh, he had these...eyes—these, uh...black eyes. And I saw him—or I thought I saw him...” he trailed off, stopping as he recounted the events.

“What?” Dean asked.

“He opened the emergency exit,” Max explained. “But that's...that's impossible, right? I mean, I looked it up. There's something like two tons of pressure on that door.”

“Yeah,” Dean confirmed, clearly confused. 

“This man, uh, did he seem to appear and disappear rapidly? It would look something like a mirage?” Sam asked.

Max quirked his head at the younger Winchester. “What are you, nuts? He was a passenger. He was sitting right in front of me.”

***

“I think we can rule out phantom traveler,” you noted as you got out of the car in front of the Phelps’s house. You were going to visit the wife of George Phelps, the man who opened the emergency exit. 

“Why?” Dean asked.

“You heard Jaffey. He said the dude had black eyes. Opened a fucking emergency exit on his own. Black eyes give me big demon vibes.”

Dean’s eyes widened. “Demons?”

“I mean, it makes sense,” Sam shrugged. “He could be a demon. He might be some kind of a creature, too, in human form.”

“Does that look like a creature's lair to you?” Dean questioned as he gestured toward the house that was representative of the essence of suburban houses. From its beautiful garden to the cobblestone steps to the beige paint coating the outside of the two-story building.

Sam shrugged and began leading your trio up the steps of the house. 

Once inside, you three sat across from Mrs. Phelps on the couch while she sat in an armchair. 

Sam picked a picture of Mrs. Phelps and an older man up off of the side table. “This is your late husband?” he asked.

“Yes, that was my George.”

“And you said he was a...dentist?” Dean questioned. 

She hummed in affirmation. “He was headed to a convention in Denver. Do you know that he was petrified to fly? For him to go like that...”

Sam asked another question. “How long were you married?”

“Thirteen years.”

“In all that time, did you ever notice anything...strange about him, anything out of the ordinary?”

“Well...uh, he had acid reflux, if that's what you mean.”

You nodded, clicking your tongue. “I think that’s all we have for you, Mrs. Phelps. Thank you for your time.”

She showed all of you out, and you piped up as you walked down the stairs outside of the house. 

“Demon’s sounding more and more correct all the time,” you smiled, trying to joke around.

“Jesus, you’re a know-it-all,” Dean groaned.

“And you’re a misogynistic asshole that can’t handle women with brains,” you responded. 

“What, are we gonna duke this out now?” Dean stopped by the door of the car, facing you. 

You stood by the backseat’s door. “You started it,” you taunted childishly, crossing your arms over your chest as you stared back at him. 

“Really?” he leered. “You’re gonna pull that card? Mature.”

“You act like you’re any better.”

“Guys--” Sam tried to cut in, but Dean continued to fight with you. 

“You’re such a bitch.”

“Wow, haven’t heard that one before,” you drawled.

“Guys! You can fight later. Wrong place, wrong time to sort this out,” Sam chastised you and Dean like you were children.

You got in the car and slammed the door behind you.

“Don’t hurt my baby ‘cause you’re pissed,” Dean scolded you as he started to pull the car away. 

“Just drive, asshole” you grumbled in frustration as you slumped down in your seat.

The rest of the car ride to the local outlet mall was silent.

***

You had never felt more confident.

Despite the fact that you could have worn the one dress you already had to pose as homeland security, you decided to treat yourself to a new outfit to distract from your aggravation with Dean. 

The boys had gone to a suit shop called “Mort’s for Style,” and you went into a dress shop called “Betsy’s.” It was a cute little shop with a lot of great dress and pantsuit options.

You had picked out a navy blue pantsuit. You wore a white button-up underneath the blazer with the top two buttons undone to accentuate your breasts. The blazer was unbuttoned, and the high-waisted, straight-legged pants you wore matched the navy color of your blazer. With the white button-up tucked into your pants and the small amount of makeup you threw on to draw attention to your eyes and lips, you felt good. 

Once you had paid for your clothing, you walked out of the shop and back to the Impala. Surprisingly, the boys were not there waiting for you. 

You leaned your back against the car, picking out the grit from under your nails.

You looked up when you heard Dean’s voice. “Man, I look like one of the Blues Brothers.” 

Both of the boys were dressed in sharp, black suits. 

“No, you don't,” Sam told him. “You look more like a...seventh-grader at his first dance.”

You laughed at the younger brother’s jeer. “What took you girls so long?” you asked once you got in the Impala. “I thought you two would’ve beat me out the store by a long shot.”

“Dean wouldn’t leave the dressing room,” Sam said dryly.

“Seriously?” you droned.

You and Sam both looked to Dean, who did not answer immediately. When he finally spoke, he complained, “I hate this thing.”

“Hey,” Sam stared. “You want into that warehouse or not?”

Dean rolled his eyes as he continued to drive along.

***

You steeled your nerves as your white, pointed-toe pumps clicked across the warehouse floor. Your trio was headed to the security guard that would allow you in to see the wreckage.

You held the clipboard you had stowed in your bag close to your chest, acting as some sort of a recorder for the boys. The three of you flashed your badges at the security guard, who nodded and allowed you into the hangar where the wreckage was being kept.

There was a large map of what the plane should look like painted onto the floor, and the parts that corresponded to the different portions of the map were laid in their proper spots. There were wires hung on fences and broken interior parts of the plane laid on tables. The most heartbreaking things for you to look at were the torn passengers’ seats because most of the people who had been in them were now dead.

You looked over at Dean, who had earbuds in and was moving a small box over the tops of the wreckage.

“What’s that?” you asked him.

“It's an EMF meter. Reads electromagnetic frequencies.”

You got closer to him, noticing what the object appeared to be. “I know what an EMF meter is, I’m not stupid. But why does that one look like a busted-up walkman?”

“'Cause that's what I made it out of. It's homemade,” he grinned.

“Yeah, I can see that,” you quipped. 

His grin disappeared. “Bitch.”

“Dick.”

Dean ran the Walkman over a piece of the wreckage with yellow dust on it. You could hear the faint sound of a spike on the meter through Dean’s headphones.

“Check out the emergency door handle,” Dean called to Sam. 

Sam came over to where you and Dean stood as the older brother scratched at the dust to get some on his hand.

“What is this stuff?” Dean asked.

One way to find out.” You saw the younger of the two brothers start scraping some of the dust into a small bag when you smelled the familiar scents of coconut and tobacco fill the air around you.

“We need to go,” you told the boys.

“What, why?” Sam asked.

“No time to explain, let’s just go, please.”

You started off toward the exit in the back of the warehouse. 

“Wait, (Y/N), what if we’re missin’ something?” Dean questioned, clearly aggravated you were ready to ditch already.

“Too bad, we gotta go.” You kept walking toward the exit, making it out of the door and around the backside of the building. 

At that moment, an alarm started blaring through the area surrounding the warehouse.

You turned around to look at the boys as you gloated, “I’m not gonna say, ‘I told you so’!“ Not bothering to rip your shoes off of your feet, you took off running to the gated exit. 

Sam and Dean were quick to follow you and soon passed you up. The older brother took off his suit jacket and threw it over the barbed wire at the top of the fence. You did the same with your blazer. After quickly taking off your pumps to avoid hurting yourself when you jumped from the top of the gate, you threw yourself over the fence. The other two did the same.

Sam grabbed your blazer that you were too small to reach from the top of the fence as Dean found it within himself to remark, “Well, these monkey suits do come in handy.”

You ran after the two boys, heels and blazer in hand as the jagged rocks in the cement cut into your feet. As soon as you shut the door to the car, Dean slammed on the gas pedal.

He tore out of the warehouse’s parking lot, speeding down the road to head toward Jerry’s workplace. 

"(Y/N),” Sam started, turning in his seat to face you with a curious expression on his face, “how did you know that?”

Without hesitation, you lied, “I heard footsteps down the hallway. Sounded like they were running. Didn’t want to chance being what they were running towards.”

“Well then how come we couldn’t hear 'em?” Dean asked, his eyes flickering toward you in the rearview mirror. 

“Maybe you’re just deaf, Dean-o,” you quipped.

“Don’t give me your smart-ass bull crap,” he warned. “I was closer to where we came in than you were. I would’ve heard them coming first. Tell me what really happened.”

“Dude, I don’t know what else to tell you. I heard them coming, you didn’t. Simple as that,” you shrugged.

He studied you for a brief moment in his mirror, and you could tell he knew something wasn’t right. 

“Why are you looking at me like that?” you questioned. 

“‘Cause I know you’re lying.”

You scoffed. “Can you just get off my back? I’m not lying.”

“(Y/N)--” 

“No, just stop. Get off my dick and leave me alone.”

Dean shook his head, his frustration with you clear.

***

You refused to speak to or even look at Dean, your frustration with the fact that he had caught onto you and his general existence boiling to the surface. You could feel his stare burning into the side of your head as you focused on Jerry, who sat in front of you. He was looking through a microscope on his desk at the yellow dust Sam had collected.

“Huh,” Jerry remarked. “This stuff is covered in sulfur.”

“You're sure?” Sam asked.

“Take a look for yourself,” Jerry offered, getting up from behind the desk so Sam could take his place. 

Banging sounds along with a string of curse words caught your ear as Jerry sighed. 

“If you guys will excuse me, I have an idiot to fire,” he dryly stated, walking out of the office.

You got up from the chair you were sat in next to Dean. “See?” you started excitedly, gesturing toward the sulfur with finger guns, “Demons.”

“That would explain how one guy had the strength to open up the emergency exit,” Sam added.

“This goes way beyond floating over a bed or barfing pea soup. I mean it's one thing to possess a person, but to use them to take down an entire airplane?” Dean put his hands on his hips as he stood. “You ever heard of something like this before?” 

Sam looked over at his brother, who responded, “Never.”

“Well, I have,” you began.

They both looked to you to continue.

“In NYC a couple years back. Some cabbies had gotten possessed and were takin’ girls left and right.”

“Those were demons?” Sam asked, standing up from behind Jerry’s desk. “That was a huge deal on the news while I was at Stanford. Police thought it was a serial killer. You took ‘em on all by yourself?”

“I’m a big girl, Sam,” you chuckled. “I can handle a few demons. But, yeah, that was me. That was one of the toughest cases I’ve ever been on. Finding where those demons had taken those girls after they drugged them in the cabs... where they were raped and murdered...” You shook your head, your cheery expression gone. 

“I’m sorry you had to see that,” Sam told you gently. 

Your eyes were glued to the floor, hands on your hips with not a bit of life in your voice as you muttered, “All in a day’s work.”

***

Sam had asked you to tell him and Dean everything you knew about demons once you got back to the Winchesters’ motel room. Sam sat at the table close to the window while Dean sat on the bed closest to his brother. You stood in front of the two as you spoke.

“Demons exist in every religion in every world culture. With the ones that I was dealing with up in New York, they were most similar to Incubi from early Christian religion. Incubi raped sleeping girls. These demons drugged the girls to put them to sleep, then they raped them, and then they murdered them. What I’m thinking for these demons is that they’re most similar to certain Japanese demons. I had to look into these when I was trying to figure out how to kill the NYC demons. The Japanese believe demons cause certain disasters, whether it be natural or man-made. Some cause earthquakes, others cause disease--”

“And this one causes plane crashes?” Dean deadpanned, cutting you off.

You ignored him.

“Demons are having to find new ways to ratchet up the body count. Like with me in New York, Incubi can’t go about their old methods anymore. This demon probably evolved with the times like the Incubi did, and so it figured plane crashes were the best way to get its job done,” you continued.

Dean snorted, getting up from. the bed and turning away from you and his brother.

“What?” Sam asked.

He turned around, scratching the back of his neck. “I don't know, man. This isn't our normal gig. I mean, demons, they don't want anything, just death, and destruction for its own sake. This is big. And I wish Dad was here.”

“Yeah. Me too,” the younger Winchester admitted.

Dean’s phone rang, and he answered it. “Hello?... Oh, hey, Jerry...Wha—Jerry, I'm sorry. What happened?... Where'd this happen?....I'll try to ignore the irony in that...Nothing. Jerry, hang in there, all right? We'll catch up with you soon.”

He hung up the phone. 

“Another crash?” Sam questioned, already knowing the answer.

“Yeah. Let's go.”

“Where?”

“Nazareth.”

***

After leaving the horrendous scene of Chuck’s plane crash, you and the boys went back to Jerry’s office. Once again, Jerry confirmed that the dust you had taken from the steering wheel of the plane was, in fact, sulfur. 

“Well, that's great,” Dean sassed. “All right, that's two plane crashes involving Chuck Lambert. This demon sounds like it was after him.”

“If that's the case, that would be the good news,” you chimed in. You looked up to the sky, addressing the pilot. “No offense, Chuck.”

“What's the bad news?” Jerry asked you.

“Chuck's plane went down exactly forty minutes into the flight, just like 2485,” you informed the older man.

“Forty minutes?” Chuck inquired. “What does that mean?”

“It's biblical numerology. You know Noah's ark, it rained for forty days. The number means death,” Dean said.

“I went back, and there hav====e been six plane crashes over the last decade that all went down exactly forty minutes in,” Sam explained.

"Any survivors?” the older Winchester questioned his brother.

“No. Or not until now, at least, not until flight 2485, for some reason.” Sam turned to you after thinking for a moment. “On the cockpit voice recorder, remember what the EVP said?”

“‘No survivors,’“ you realized. “It's going after all the survivors. It's trying to finish the job.”

***

Dean drove the Impala down an empty highway. 

Sam was on the phone with one of the survivors from the plane crash, the conversation almost over. “Really? Well, thank you for taking our survey, And if you do plan to fly, please don't forget your friends at United Britannia Airlines. Thanks.” He hung up the phone. “All right. That takes care of Blaine Sanderson and Dennis Holloway. They're not flying anytime soon.”

“That leaves the flight attendant, Amanda Walker,” you commented.

“Right. Her sister Karen said her flight leaves Indianapolis at eight P.M. It's her first night back on the job,” Sam told you and his brother. 

“That sounds like just our luck,” Dean monotoned, his sarcasm strong.

“Dean, this is a five-hour drive, man, even with you behind the wheel,” Sam said worriedly.

“Call Amanda's cellphone again, see if we can't head her off at the pass,” Dean tried.

“I already left her three voice messages. She must have turned her cellphone off.”

“God, we're never gonna make it,” you shook your head, leaning back in the seat as you scrubbed a hand through your hair.

“We'll make it,” the older brother countered, slamming his foot on the gas. 

***

Somehow, someway, Dean had managed to get to the airport at ten minutes to seven. 

You jumped up out of the car, taking your gun out of your pants and stashing it under the backseat.

“What are you doing?” 

You still did not feel like talking to Dean but answered him shortly nonetheless. “We’re going into an airport.”

Dean finally caught onto what you meant and took all of his weapons off of him, too.

You rushed into the airport just behind the boys, squeezing your way through the crowd of people to get to the departure board.

“Right there,” Sam pointed out. “They're boarding in thirty minutes.”

“Okay. We still have some cards to play,” Dean paused, thinking for a moment.  “We need to find a phone.” 

He found a courtesy on the wall, picking it up. “Hi. Gate thirteen...I'm trying to contact an Amanda Walker. She's a flight attendant on flight, um...flight 4-2-4.”

He waited impatiently for Amanda to pick up the phone. When she finally did, he began speaking again.

“Miss Walker. Hi, this is Dr. James Hetfield from St. Francis Memorial Hospital. We have a Karen Walker here...Nothing serious, just a minor car accident, but she was injured, so—...” His face fell, his eyes widening a touch. “You what?... Uh, well...there must be some mistake--”

Sam went around his brother to try to get a closer listen. 

After a longer pause, Dean let out a sigh of relief and smiled. “...Guilty as charged...He's really sorry...Yes, but...he really needs to see you tonight, so--... Don't be like that. Come on. The guy's a mess. Really. It's pathetic...Oh, yeah...No, no. Wait, Amanda. Amanda!”

Dean slammed the phone back onto the receiver. “Damn it! So close.”

"Alright, time for plan B. We're getting on that plane,” you stated firmly.

“Whoa, whoa, now just hold on a second.” For the first time since you met him, Dean looked scared.

“Dean, that plane is leaving with over a hundred passengers on board, and if we're right, that plane is gonna crash,” Sam argued.

“I know.”

“Okay. So we're getting on the plane, we need to find that demon and exorcise it. I'll get the tickets. You and (Y/N) get whatever you can out of the trunk. Whatever that will make it through security. Meet me back here in five minutes.”

Dean looked at Sam blankly, evidently a little anxious.

“Are you okay?” the younger Winchester asked.

“No, not really.”

“What? What's wrong?”

“Well, I kind of have this problem with, uh...”

“Flying?” you cut in.

“It's never really been an issue until now,” he told you.

“You're joking, right?” you huffed.

“Do I look like I'm joking? Why do you think I drive everywhere, (Y/N)?” he spat.

“Oh, man up,” you gibed.

“Hey, hey--” Sam tried to calm you both down before a fight broke out. “(Y/N) and I’ll go.”

Dean turned to his brother. “What?”

“We’ll handle this one.”

“What are you, nuts? You said it yourself, the plane's gonna crash.”

“Dean, we can do it together, or I can do this one with (Y/N). I'm not seeing a third option, here.”

“Come on! Really? Man...”

***

Dean walked much faster than you did toward the car to get supplies, clearly trying to leave you in his dust.

“Would you slow down a bit, asshole?” you asked.

“Why should I?”

“Because even if you get to the car before me, you’re not gonna have a fucking clue what to use to deal with a demon,” you reminded him, your words a bit more venomous than need-be.

He stopped, turning to face you. “Are you calling me stupid?”

“No,” you told him.

“Definitely sounds like you are.”

You walked past him to the trunk of the Impala. “I wasn’t, I’m simply pointing out the fact that I’m the one who knows how to deal with demons, and you don’t.”

“There you go again. Acting like you know so much better than I do.”

Your voice rose as you defended yourself. “Because I do! In this case, at least!”

“But it’s not just this one time that you acted like you’re better than me,” he argued. “Do you realize how frustrating it is to deal with your smart ass?”

“Do you realize how frustrating it is to deal with yours?” you threw back. You sighed, putting aside your anger for now. “Look, we don’t have time to talk about this.” You shoved holy water, a rosary, and the EMF Walkman into Dean’s hands. “Now, let’s go.” 

You shoved past Dean and headed back to the airport.

***

You sat closest to the window of the plane, completely at ease. Dean, however, was losing his mind as he sat in the aisle seat.

"Just try to relax,” Sam whispered, who sat between you. 

Dean’s voice came back harder and slightly louder. “Just try to shut up.”

“Oh, don’t be a baby,” you scolded, leaning forward in your seat to look at Dean.

“Don’t be a bitch,” Dean clapped back using the same tone with you that he had with Sam. He took in a sharp breath when the plane began moving a second later. 

You and Sam snickered to yourselves as you leaned back in your seats.

A few minutes later when the plane had gotten up in the air, you heard the familiar sound of a song you had heard many times before in the Impala coming from two seats over from yours. 

“You're humming Metallica?” Sam asked Dean monotonously.

“Calms me down,” the older brother replied shortly. 

“‘Some Kind of Monster?’ Really?“ you questioned.

Dean did not respond to you.

“Look, man, I get you're nervous, all right? But you got to stay focused,” the younger Winchester reminded his brother.

“Yup,” you chimed in. “We only have thirty-two minutes to track the bitch down and full-on exorcise it.” 

“Yeah, on a crowded plane,” Dean commented. “That's gonna be easy.”

“Just take it one step at a time, alright?” Sam said calmly. “Now, who is it possessing?” 

“It's usually gonna be somebody with some sort of weakness, you know, a chink in the armor that the demon can worm through. Somebody with an addiction or some sort of emotional distress,” Dean stated.

“Well, this is Amanda's first flight after the crash. If I were her, I'd be pretty messed up,” Sam told Dean, who hummed in response.

Dean sat up stiffly, his body still tense as he turned to the blonde flight attendant walking past.

“Excuse me. Are you Amanda?” he asked her.

“No, I'm not,” she answered with a smile.

"Oh, my mistake.”

The flight attendant hummed in agreement.

He peered into the back of the plane, finding the other blonde flight attendant. “All right, well, that's got to be Amanda back there, so I'll go talk to her, and, uh, I'll get a read on her mental state.”

“What if she's already possessed, genius?” Sam asked.

“There's ways to test that,” Dean responded, pulling the holy water out of his jacket. “I brought holy water.”

“Correction, I brought holy water--” you leaned forward, snatching the bottle, “--And that’s for when we try to exorcise the demon. She’ll flinch at the name of god if she’s possessed.”

“Yeah, I know that,” Dean replied. You could tell he had not. 

He turned to go, but you stopped him.

“Dean!” you whispered.

“What?”

“Say it in Latin.”

“Yeah, I know.”

“Then what is it?” you smirked, quirking a brow.

“‘Christo!’ I’m not an idiot!” he hissed back. Dean turned away from you and headed to the back of the plane. 

You slumped down in your seat, closing your eyes as the copilot began speaking. “Ladies and gentlemen, this is your first officer speaking...” you tuned out the rest of his message.

A few minutes went by before Dean returned.

“All right, well, she's got to be the most well-adjusted person on the planet,” he sighed as he flopped back into his seat.

“You said ‘Christo’?” Sam asked.

“Yeah.”

“And?”

“There's no demon in her. There's no demon getting in her.”

“So, if it's on the plane, it can be anyone. Anywhere,” Sam explained.

The plane shook, causing Dean to tense up. “Come on!” he whined. “That can't be normal!”

“Hey, hey, it's just a little turbulence,” Sam coaxed.

“Sam, this plane is going to crash, okay? So quit treating me like I'm friggin' four.

“Okay,” you started, your tone harsh. “You need to calm down.”

“Well, I'm sorry I can't,” Dean sassed, his grip still tight on the arms of his chair.

“You didn’t want to be treated like you’re four, so stop acting like it,” you commanded. “Be a man, Winchester. If you’re a basketcase, you’re wide open to possession. Get your shit together. Right now.”

Dean took a deep breath.

“Great. Onto the Rituale Romanum.”

“The what?” Sam and Dean asked in unison.

“The exorcism ritual,” you elaborated. “It's two parts. The first part expels the demon from the victim's body. It makes it manifest, which actually makes it more powerful.”

“More powerful?” Dean questioned, his voice strained and eyes wide.

“Yup.”

“How?”

“It’d just be able to wreak havoc on its own without a vessel,” you informed.

“Oh. And why is that a good thing?”

“'Cause the second part of that sends the bitch back to hell once and for all.”

“First things first, we got to find it.”

“Oh, look at that, Dean-o’s finally taking charge,” you chuckled.

“Shut up,” Dean grumbled, getting up from his chair with the EMF Walkman.

You and Sam let him walk down the aisle by himself for a few minutes before the two of you got up to go talk to him.

You tapped his shoulder.

“Ah!” Dean jumped back, wheeling around to face you. “Don’t do that!”

“Anything?” Sam asked.

The older brother shook his head. “No, nothing. How much time we got?” 

“Fifteen minutes,” Sam told you and his brother. “Maybe we missed somebody.” 

“Maybe the thing's just not on the plane,” Dean shrugged.

“No way. Dean, it’s gonna be here,” you protested. Just as you spoke, the EMF meter spiked. 

You looked up to see the copilot coming out of the bathroom.

“What?” Sam asked. “What is it?”

You stared at the copilot. “Christo.”

The man’s head slowly turned toward you and the boys, his eyes black.

You wheeled around to face Sam.

“We gotta talk to Amanda.”

“She's not gonna believe this,” Sam contested.

“You’re probably right, but we only got twelve minutes,” you reminded the younger brother. You walked ahead of the boys into the concessions area where Amanda busied herself.

“Oh, hi. Flight's not too bumpy for you, I hope,” she smiled politely, clearly caught off-guard by your presence.

“Actually--” Dean began, “--that's kind of what we need to talk to you about.”

Sam closed the curtains behind you as Amanda answered Dean.

“Um, okay. What can I do for you?”

“Alright, this is gonna sound nuts, but we just don't have time for the whole ‘the truth is out there’ speech right now,” Dean rushed out.

She looked confused but kept her smile painted on her face.

“Alright, look, we know you were on flight 2485,” Sam continued for Dean.

Her grin disappeared. “Who are you guys?”

Sam ignored her question. “Now, we've spoken to some of the other survivors. We know something brought down that plane and it wasn't a mechanical failure.”

“We need your help because we need to stop it from happening again. Here. Now,” the older brother told her.

“I'm sorry--” she started, attempting to move past you, “--I—I'm very busy. I have to go back—”

"Chuck Lambert’s dead, Amanda,” you cut in, effectively stopping her from leaving. “The pilot from 2485.”

“Wait. What?” She turned to face you, her eyebrows furrowed. “Chuck is dead?”

“Yeah,” you said quietly. “He died in a plane crash. That’s the second plane crash in two months. Doesn’t that strike you as weird?”

She shook her head in complete disbelief.

“Look, there was something wrong with 2485,” Sam added. “Now maybe you sensed it, maybe you didn't. But there's something wrong with this flight, too.”

Dean made a last attempt to drive the point home. “Amanda, you have to believe us.”

The blonde looked to the ground. “On...on 2485, there was this man. He...had these eyes.”

“Black eyes?” you asked.

She nodded.

“That’s exactly what we’re talking about,” Sam clarified.

“I don't understand, what are you asking me to do?”

Dean answered before you got the chance to. “Okay. The copilot, we need you to bring him back here.”

Amanda looked between the three of you, confused. “Why? What does he have to do with anything?”

“Don't have time to explain. We just need to talk to him. Okay?”

“How am I supposed to go in the cockpit and get the copilot—”

Even Sam was getting impatient. “Do whatever it takes. Tell him there's something broken back here, whatever will get him out of that cockpit.”

“Do you know that I could lose my job if you—”

“Honey, you're gonna lose a lot more if you don't go get him right now,” you remarked.

She looked at you and nodded, turning to leave for the cockpit.

As soon as Amanda made it out of the curtains, you fished the holy water out of your hoodie’s pocket, moving to press your back against the wall next to the closed blue curtains.

Dean, however, shoved his way to that spot just before you could. 

You stumbled back, regaining your footing while fussing at Dean. “Um, Earth to asshole--” you moved to stand next to him against the wall, “--I was kind of standing there.”

He turned his face back to you over his shoulder. “Yeah,” he smirked. “I know.” Dean winked at you before turning back to face the curtain.

“Dick.”

“Bitch.”

“Guys!” Sam objected. “Focus, please.”

You heard the copilot say to Amanda, “Yeah, what's the problem?” Just outside the curtains. As soon as the demon ducked into the small room, Dean punched him in the face. He then shoved the demon to the ground and slapped duct tape over his mouth. 

“Wait,” Amanda protested as you got down on the ground beside Dean, “What are you doing? You said you were just gonna talk to him.”

“We are gonna talk to him,” Dean replied simply as you splashed the copilot with holy water.

The demon groaned under the duct tape, his skin sizzling and burning holes through his shirt.

“Oh, my god. What's wrong with him?” Amanda cried.

“Look,” Sam started calmly, “We need you calm. We need you outside the curtain.”

“Well, I don't underst—I don't know—”

“Don't let anybody in, okay? Can you do that? Can you do that? Amanda?”

She gave herself a pep talk before heading outside of the curtains.

“Hurry up, Sam,” Dean groaned. “I don't know how much longer I can hold him.”

The demon went to kick the older Winchester in the back, but you dove to grab his legs.

Sam began reciting the Latin ritual written in his father’s journal. “Regna terrae, cantate Deo, psallite Domino—”

The demon kneed you in the forehead, causing you to fall back and got a few good swings at the boys in as well. You clambered on top of the copilot, sitting on his stomach with his arms pinned by his sides under your legs.

Sam continued with the ritual before the demon threw you off of him. He ripped the tape off of his mouth and turned to Sam.

“I know what happened to your girlfriend! She must have died screaming! Even now, she's burning!”

You attempted to recover from getting slammed into the wall while Dean focused on attacking the demon.

Sam sat there in shock, so you grabbed the journal and tried to finish the ritual.

The demon hit Dean again, effectively getting the young man off of him and knocking Dean into you. The book fell from your hand, and the demon kicked it out into the passenger’s cabin.

A cloud of black smoke flew out from the copilot’s body and into a vent while Sam went out into the aisle to find the journal. 

Suddenly, the plane shook violently and took a nosedive. The lights in the plane flickered and you and Dean were thrown to the back wall of the concession’s area. 

You and Dean screamed as the plane went down. Dean held onto the emergency exit door for dear life as you pressed yourself into the corner opposite from the older Winchester.

Your yelps were cut off when the plane leveled out following a surge of electricity coursing through the aircraft. You assumed Sam was able to finish the ritual and the pilot was able to regain control of the plane. 

You shakily stood up from the ground and dusted yourself off, tugging on the sleeves of your large hoodie.

You stepped out into the passenger’s cabin, heading to Sam as people began asking their neighbors if they were okay.

You wrapped Sam in a short, tight hug as you thanked him for keeping his head level enough to finish the ritual. When you let him go, there was a slight tremble that rolled through the aircraft carrier. You took in a sharp breath, gripping onto the seats on either side of you as you faltered.

You looked up at Sam, eyes wide. “I think this whole demon dealio might’ve awakened my new biggest fear.”

***

After landing back at your original airport, you stood beside Sam and Dean as you watched the swarms of EMTs, FBI agents, and FAA agents go from person to person. They questioned or looked over each one, and your focus bounced between each one.

You found Amanda in the crowd talking to an FBI agent, and she turned to the side to mouth “thank you” to you and the Winchesters.

“Let's get out of here,” Dean said firmly.

You began to head to the exit when Dean asked Sam, “You okay?”

You turned back to Sam, who reminded you and his brother, “Dean, it knew about Jessica.”

“Sam, these things, they, they read minds. They lie. All right? That's all it was.” The older brother attempted to brush Sam’s concerns off.

“Yeah,” Sam conceded.

“Come on.”

***

The next day, you and the Winchesters visited Jerry at his workplace to give him the final mission report.

Jerry showed you and the boys out and escorted you to the Impala parked outside of the warehouse. 

“Nobody knows what you guys did, but I do. A lot of people could have been killed,” he acknowledged. He shook your hand before turning to the boys. 

“Your dad's gonna be real proud.”

Sam gave him an awkward tight-lipped smile. “We'll see you around, Jerry.”

You turned to the car, as did Dean before he turned back to the older man. 

“You know, Jerry,” he began.

“Yeah.”

“I meant to ask you, how did you get my cellphone number, anyway?” the young man continued. “I've only had it for like six months.”

“Your dad gave it to me,” Jerry explained simply.

“What?” Sam exclaimed in shock.

“When did you talk to him?” Dean questioned.

“I mean, I didn't exactly talk to him, but I called his number. His voice message said to give you a call.” He took a pause. “Thanks again, guys-- and gal,” he grinned.

“Bye, Jerry!” you called after him as he headed off.

“This doesn't make any sense, man. I've called Dad's number like fifty times. It's been out of service,” Sam told his brother.

Dean dials what you assumed was his father’s number. However, instead of the out-of-service message Sam had described, a voicemail began to play.

The two boys leaned into the phone so they could hear it better.

You leaned over Sam’s shoulder, the voice hard to hear, but you were still able to make out the words. 

“This is John Winchester. I can't be reached. If this is an emergency, call my son, Dean. 785-555-0179. He can help.”

Sam fumed, shaking his head in frustration as he got in the car. He slammed the door behind him.

You looked over to Dean, who did not meet your gaze. He got in the car following his brother.

You took one last look at the setting sun as a plane flew over your head. 

“I fuckin’ hate flying,” you muttered.

Tags are open and feedback is always appreciated!!

Series Rewrite Tags:

@rach5ive​ @ppeachygemss​

[alexthepartyman]

Fine Line

Chapter Five: I know you were way too bright for me.

“Yet teh first victim wasn’t eviscerated,” Spencer remarks. Derek looks over his shoulder at us. “And the unsub seems to have used a different weapon at each crime scene.” 

“Two different MOs.”

“Two different killers?” 

“Or one very psychotic individual,” Uncle Jason remarks,  turning the team’s attention to us. 

“What happened to you?”

“I got a list of things I want to try before it’s too late.”

“And orthopedic surgery’s one of them??” Elle asks. 

“No, skydiving. Apparently, it’s all about the landing.”

‘I’m still pissed at him for it because he didn’t take me.” 

“Not in your state are you leaving Virginia,” Aaron cuts me off. “And besides, you’re not old enough to do that. How long on the crutches, Jason?”

“Just a couple of days.” 

“So you can’t go out into the field?” 

“Not on crutches, no.” 

“Don’t worry, I’ll find a way to be helpful here. Got a blitz attack. No effort to remove the body, clean up evidence.” 

“Sounds really disorganised.” 

“With organised killers, we see a pattern, we’re able to predict their behaviour, but with psychotic killers, they’re guided by a given delusion.”

“Okay, but until we understand the nature of the delusion, we can’t predict his next move.” 

“And that’s nearly impossible to do.” 

“Actually, I think we might have a clue.” 

“Alright, throw it at me,” I offer, walking myself over to stand between him and Derek. 

“These rings at the crime scene might be some kind of signature?” He asks, pointing at them for me. 

“Maybe.”

“I can work this angle. I’ll see if there’s any significance to the patters.” 

“Psychotic killers are normally not that difficult to catch because they don’t try to hide.”

“Does that make your job easier?” JJ asks. 

“Oh, no. Cause until we do locate him, he’ll keep doing that.” 

“Jamie, you’ll be staying here with Jason and Penelope. Please do try to focus on your schoolwork and not the case.” I nod at Aaron. “Wheels up in thirty.”

-------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------

“Working from the assumption that the rings are a signature…”

“SIr, I could help you get some of these books back to your -”

“Exploring their symbolic significance? Just exploring...I have nothing.” 

“That seems like a specific pattern, though. Here, Penelope, give me something. Maybe if you were in your office, Uncle Jason, you’d have more room to spread out and get a fresh perspective...do you think? Maybe? No?” Uncle Jason stares at me. “Why are you looking at me like that?” 

“I need to focus on the manner in which Annie Stuart was killed. Anything that might have been done to her postmortem. Get this stuff out of here. Sorry.” 

“Jason, this isn’t your…” My voice trails off as he approaches the central desk and hands me a few papers. “Well, at least you apologised.”

“Where’s the, uh, blueprints of the house?”

“Oh, they’re right here on the screen-”

“I don’t want the blueprints on the screen. I want something I can hold onto.” I sit in front of the screen with the blueprint and start sketching out the floor plans. 

“Here you go.” 

“It’s hot in here. Can you fix the AC? How do you breathe in here? Can you try to make it a little cooler in here?” I grimace at the sight of the chaos unfolding in front of me, the two talking over each other. 

“Uh, yeah. It’s pretty cold, but-”

“Do you have the autopsy reports?”

“I’m gonna have the sheriff from Harringtonville fax it over as soon as they come in.” 

“Can I have another cup of coffee, if you would?”

“That, I can do, hang on. You want your usual black?” I ask.

“Yeah. They’re right here.”

“Got it. I’ll get the coffee.” 

“Thank you.” I scoff as Penelope walks away, letting go of my grips and throwing my hands up in frustration. 

“You’re welcome.” 

-------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------

“Chicken broccoli?” Jason asks. 

“It’s not that I don’t want to, it’s just…”

“What’s that?”

“Oh, it’s autopsy reports.” I look to them from my homework and sigh. “Annie Stuart’s body was, um...I can’t say it.” 

“Missing her liver and stomach.” 

“I know that this may seem like a small, dark hole, but it’s my office, and I like to keep it sort of cleanish. Why are you doing that again?”

“What is he doing?”

“Putting his food all over the blueprint.” 

“There’s a reason.”

“He’s taking the blood and organs from the bodies and putting them in cylindrical containers. It’s andropothogy.”

“It’s what?”

“Anthonro what what?”

“You don’t want to know.”

“I’m a big girl. I can take it.” 

“Literal Greek translation is man eating...guy’s a cannibal.” I put my earbuds in and turn up the music. This is the part where I drop out of the conversation. 

-------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------

“HE TOOK THE HEART?! HOTCH?!” Jason yells, coming back into Penelope’s cage.

“Yes.” 

“The heart has always had incredible symbolic significance. I mean, aside from just banal romantic associations. The Egyptians left the heart in mummies because they believed the organ ensured eternal life.”

“Something I read...ow! Ow!”

“Jesus Christ, Jason!” I yell out, ripping out my earbuds and spinning the chair to face him. 

“Sorry, I’m sorry.”

“It’s okay. Give me the book. The big one. Right there.” 

“Okay. Could you get the book, please Penelope, yes I can, here you are. Thank you.” 

“Where’s the crime scene photos?”

“Crime scene photos…” 

“Does that body look like an angel?”

“Not to me.”

“Scan this in. Send it to them. There was, there was an article by a Cambridge professor. Seems that all the organs the unsub’s taken...stomach, liver, now the heart, they were thought to be the seat of the soul, at one time or another.” I groan and start lightly banging my wrists against my forehead and rocking back and forth. 

“Hey, hey, hey, don’t do that, okay? Here’s a slinky,” Penelope gently tells me, placing a metal slinky toy in my hands. My fingers start to manipulate it, exploring every inch of the toy.

“Then he drinks their blood?”

“So when this man drinks his victims’ blood…”

“He believes he’s encountering the divine.”

“Wait a minute, none of this explains why he took the kid.”

“The unsub made the victim into an angel. Maybe the kid’s a messionic figure.” 

“Let’s just hope he doesn’t feel the need to sacrifice him.”

-------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------

“Hey, Garcia. Talk to me.”

“Okay, so I got ahold of Eddy’s roommate in college, who describes Eddy as having an overprotective mom.”

“How overprotective?”

“She called him, like, three times a day. And get this. One time, she went up to Boston to break him up with a girlfriend she didn’t like.”

“Wow.”

“Yeah, it seems like Eddy’s entire college experience was some sort of post-adolescent rebellion. He partied like an eighties clubber. He suffered a delusional break due to methamphetamine consumption.”

“Wow. That is partying like an eighties clubber.” 

“Right. So then, he was admitted to a mental health facility in Botson,checked himself out a week ago, and found his way home.” 

“What was his major?”

“Comparative religion,” I answer. “No idea what that is.” 

“Thanks. How is it having Gideon around?”

“Uh, you can have him back whenever you’d like.” Penelope hangs up. “How do you deal with him?”

“You get used to it. By the way, could I have access to your computers for research purposes?” 

“It depends on what you are researching, because if you think you can research Peyton again, I am not allowed to let you do that. Oh, and no snooping through case files again.” 

“Literally nobody ever told me that my brother went to college, and I can’t figure out why Boston of all places.” 

“He went to Harvard.” 

“Doesn’t make sense from what I’ve heard about him. Literally the last time I saw him...fuck, that was when Eddie graduated high school. And I was eight. And we went to Peyton.” 

-------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------

“Hey! You guys are back!”

“Hey, sweetheart.”

“Don’t sweetheart me. I may not be a Supervisory Speical Agent, but that does not make me a maid.” 

“What do you mean?”

“What do I mean?” Penelope and Aaron head up the stairs, her carrying a tote of Jason’s things. “This is the third box of crap that Gideon left in my office. There’s at least two more, and everything smells like soy sauce!-”

“I’ll take care of it,” Aaron quietly offers, taking the box from her. 

“Was he that bad?” Derek asks me. 

“Frustrating, yes. I can’t confirm or deny the soy sauce, though. Hey, can I annoy you guys until Aaron takes me home? Penelope’s probably sick of me.” Derek chuckles. 

“Of course, kid. You gotta tell us what’s been new with your friends, though.”

[lord-explosion-baku]

I don't think of "Like Ghosts in the Snow" often, but when I do I always feel melancholy and get a little pain in my chest. It was a good story, but very bittersweet. Although, even though Mic is my fave, I did really enjoy seeing him written as a crazy bitch. Do you think he would have listened if Reader tried to talk to him or would he have just full on assaulted her?

This is such a good question and one that’s going to be met with a lot of words.

🚨Major GIS Spoilers and heavy, triggering content up ahead. Read at your own risk🚨

(I’m on mobile so I can’t add the “read more” link. hizzaht)

There are two things I knew for certain when I first started writing Like Ghosts In Snoe. 1) Bakugou was going to be turned into a vampire and 2) Hizashi Yamada was going to die.

It was no accident that he greeted the reader with near tooth-rotting kindness. He knew that there was a part of her that was the queen and because of this, he wanted to spoil her. He wanted to get on her good side from the beginning because he knew that she would be claiming the role of the vampire queen again. Hizashi was, in his own delusional way, in love with Selene, therefore he was obsessed with the reader. It didn’t help that he had an obsession with staying young and youthful, having to watch all these other hunters be turned right in front of his eyes and all. It would’ve driven him crazy if he wasn’t already.

Todoroki, Aizawa, and Hizashi were all around the same age while Selene was alive, so in a way, Todoroki, Aizawa, and Hizashi were her love interests. But Selene basically took Todoroki as a lover while she had big heart eyes for Aizawa. I never got into it (I did actually have a chapter planned out where it shows them all in the past but it never came to fruition, whoops) but Hizashi still doted on her regardless of the fact that she ignored him. She knew there was something fucky going on with him before he even did. Then she died and Hizashi found out that she basically left all the responsibility of bringing her back to Todoroki and Aizawa, and Hizashi was left with nothing. No semblance of love, no over dramatic farewell speech, not even a wink in his generally vicinity. He was mad.

But he thought he got a second chance when the reader showed up. She was basically Selene. But different. She was naive. She was influecible. In his eyes, the reader was his.

Your question was “do you think he would have listened if Reader tried to talk to him or would he have full on assaulted her?”

I’m not sure if you meant when she came home after her beach day with Bakugou, or after everything went down with the IEDs, so I’ll get to both of them.

Santa Carla is a small town. People talk. Hizashi was a radio host. He heard everything. Of course he’d hear whispers of his “intern” at the beach with Aizawa’s daughter; he had to have. And of course, all of this happened the night after shit went down at The Emporium, too. People/vampires were already “charmed” by her, and the reader went and kissed two other people before Hizashi? That simply couldn’t do. Not after making sure she felt like a princess under his own roof, after he decorated her room to hiw he had felt would please, not after he made her such lovely meals. History repeats itself. And Hizashi couldn’t have that.

He was insane. There wasn’t much the reader could say to him other than “listen I don’t fucking know what you’re talking about, I’m ME and not Selene”??? He was already planning on showing her his “love” in other ways since his previous attempts went ignored. I had originally had the tag for “rape/non con” up on the fic because he was going to rape her. But the fic already had a certain, idk, language or mood to it, and I wasn’t planning on writing any smut scenes with everyone else and it just felt very wrong to me. So I decided against it. I had Midoriya save her. Had he or Kirishima not been there to protect her, Hizashi Yamada would’ve 100% sexually assaulted the reader. He knew that, she knew that, and everyone involved knew that.

It would’ve given the reader even more of a incentive to rip his heart out. After the incident, I’m pretty sure I at least tied to foreshadow that the reader was going to kill him, although Aizawa rightfully whipped his ass “for laying hands” on his kid as punishment.

Skipping over a few naughty things Hizashi had said after the incident, there was evidence that he kept a picture of the reader under his pillow, one that was taken before she was even 18. Thats big nasty man problems right there. I wasn’t planning on adding this in, but I figured, let’s make the bad man more bad and say that he had also made a move on Jirou before she was even 18 as well. He’s a pedophile and that makes him the scum of the earth, and add that in with his obsession with being young and dumb forever and you get a NASTY disaster of a man.

Again SPOILERS!!!

Hizashi killed Aizawa. It wasn’t intentional, but if it wasn’t for him, Aizawa would still be alive. Aizawa was the only important person the reader had in her life and his life was plucked away right in front of her. Hizashi signed his life away as soon as he buried those IEDs in the sand.

Now if the reader talked to him then? It’s not even really a question under these circumstances. It was an accident. Even if he was crazy, Hizashi never meant to kill his best friend. He was sorrowful, but he was in shock. There wasn’t much he can say for himself. Aizawa warmed him against using IEDs and he went ahead and built them anyway. Hizashi caused distraction. Hizashi caused death. Hizashi metaphorically ripped the reader’s heart out of her chest, so she did the same to him. It was bitter and nasty and the reader didn’t get anything out of it, but if it hadn’t been done, the story wouldn’t be able to have an ending I don’t think.

Even though he was sorry and he was hurting, he didn’t show guilt to the reader. after everything he’d done, he still wanted her/Selene to see that he’d done it all for them. He couldn’t be ignored. He couldn’t grow old. He just had to prove something, and in a way, although it costed him his life, he did.

Thanks for the ask!!!! I was just thinking about GIS today actually (I know I’m the author but I don’t dwell on it muc)

I wish I had started the fic today tbh. A lot of things would’ve been different. I have a friend who tells me “I wish I could continue this fic, but I can’t unless I start it over”

And I ask her, “why?”

And she says, “because I didn’t know then what I do know now.”

And idk. This ask made me think of that.

💖

[mrs-dragneel-stark-solo]

Unforseen Chasm

part 4 of Unforseen Chasm

Prompt: Two sisters fall for men that are absolute enemies. The love they have could tear all of them apart, or it could bring them together. Word Count:  2004 Note: This is by far the longest thing I’ve ever written (including my other fic series). first major Collab with my best friend @thorne93 what was first a simple “what if” moment turned into a two year writing session and I’ve never been more prouder of myself than when i started my first series. goes through most of the MCU plots there are some changes to accommodate for what we wanted and there is a bit of a crossover between the MCU and other characters. I hope you guys enjoy reading this just as much as I enjoyed writing it.

“What?” she asked, closing her eyes and violently shaking her head. “What the hell are you talking about? Did you get to the hammer?”  

“No. I got to it. But this man was in front of it. He was gorgeous, Shannon.” 

“Really? You were stopped by a pretty face? You've never been the type,” she teased. 

“No I'm serious. He had pitch black hair, it was slicked back. He wore a suit, an expensive suit. His face, my god his face. He had blue eyes you could swim in. And his face was sharp…” You started to drift into thought about him. Part of you was trying desperately to remember why Thor and this mystery man made you feel so damned… warm and powerful. 

“Earth to Y/N,” Shannon said, snapping her fingers in front of your face. 

“Hmm?” you asked, turning to face her. 

“So you saw a hot guy, big deal?” 

“I don't know...  But we know Thor is still here. We need to call Jane.” 

You called Jane and told her that Thor was still being held captive at the compound-city thing they built. 

“We can't leave him here, Erik,” you pleaded, once Jane told you were on speaker with everyone. 

“Y/N, listen to what he is saying. You believe all of this? They're children's stories.”

“Erik, we’re scientists. Look at the facts. A man shows up in an inexplicable storm, with a hammer that no one can lift, talking about realms. If he's delusional, he sure has a lot of convincing evidence around him.” 

All you heard was an exasperated sigh, presumably from Selvig. 

“Jane, come on, tell me this all just adds up in a funny way to you,” you begged. “Tell me I'm wrong.”

Begrudgingly, Jane agreed in a hesitant voice. “She has a point.”

Erik and Jane went a few rounds before Erik finally agreed to trying to come get Thor. He thought if he gave them the name of that doctor Jane used to date, it might throw them off the scent and let him go. All of you devised a plan, Shannon faked the ID in the system really quickly using her phone (gotta love brilliance and Stark Technology, kids), and Erik was on his way back. 

Erik retrieved Thor and you two and drove back. After he dropped you two off, Thor and Selvig went to a bar.

“So you still think he’s some sort of god, huh?” Shannon asked as she fixed the two of you some water. 

“I don’t know what I believe any more,” you said with a sigh. “I just know I feel… different around Thor. I felt different around that man at the crater. Something… I don’t know,” you said shrugging. 

“Did he say anything to you?” she asked with a frown. 

Your brows knitted together as you purse your lips. “He said ‘You can see me?’ as if I wasn’t supposed to be able to,” you remarked, your eyes on the floor, trying to decipher what that meant. Shannon did the same, and you could almost visibly see the gears of her mind working before you continued. “Then I said that yes I could, and he said ‘You’re Asgardian,’ and disappeared.”

“So that was it. You were both standing at the hammer, he asked if you could see him, and then said you’re Asgardian? He’s suddenly claiming you’re from the same place Thor is?” she asked, shaking her head and giving a callous laugh. “What a nutjob.”

About the time she said that was when Thor returned with a very drunk Selvig and dropped him in his bed before Jane and Thor went to the roof. 

“So, did you get any of your data? At all?” Shannon asked, now that you two were probably alone. 

“I got this,” you said, pulling the recorder out of your pocket. ”It isn’t much. Just my thoughts of the last few days, nothing for calculations, but it’s a start. We have that at least.”

Shannon took the recorder from you and flipped it over in her hands. “At least it’s something,” she noted. “Hey why don’t you come back with me?” she asked suddenly. “Jane’s research is gone, you’ll have to start basically from scratch. Why don’t you do that at one of Tony’s labs?”

You shook your head. “I don’t know. I should probably help Jane rebuild what she lost.”

“And you can, you will, but with equipment that was made after Y2K,” she said with a cheeky grin. “Come on, please?”

You let out a breath of air. “I will come back to help you give what I have to Tony, but then I’m coming right back to help Jane. It isn’t right she lost all of her work thanks to those goons.”

“That’s all I can ask then.”

Around 1 AM, Shannon said she was tired and went down the road to a little hotel to sleep, ready to take you back with her tomorrow to NYC. You decided to go tell Jane your plans, but when you got to the roof, Jane was passed out on the lawn chair and Thor was sitting staring at the fire they’d made. 

“Oh, damn, she’s asleep,” you noted when you saw her. 

“Ah, Lady Y/N, so nice to see you,” Thor said with a smile. 

“Thanks. I was just gonna come talk to Jane but she’s clearly not talking right now so…” You gestured to Jane and gave a faint laugh before stuffing your hands in your pockets. 

“Ah, yes, tis quite hard to speak to the sleeping,” he remarked with a soft smile before standing up and walking towards you, taking a spot beside you where you stood and looked up at the stars. “What were you going to talk to her about?” he wondered.

“Oh, I was just telling her I’m going back to NYC, for a little while. My friend Shannon and her colleague would love some of the data I’ve gathered. Actually, they’d love to have data on you,” you said with more honesty and earnest, gesturing towards him with a turn of your body.

“Mmm, yes, your kind have not seen us for some time,” he stated quietly, almost to himself.

You turned and looked at him. “You really do think you’re Thor, don’t you?” you asked softly, no accusation in your voice.

“I know I am. Son of Odin, brother of Loki, son of Frigga…” he said, his voice trailing off, seeming sad.

In your head, you couldn’t fathom that you were talking to a god. In your heart though, Thor seemed so sincere, so genuine when he spoke of his family and his home. How could it not be real? How could he just be a delusional man? No, something about him just felt… otherworldly to you.

“What happened? Why are you here? Why can’t you return home using the Bifrost?”

“You know of the Bifrost?” Thor questioned. He’d mentioned it once, but never explicitly stated what it was or how it was used. 

You shrugged. “I studied Norse Mythology extensively in college. Your name came up quite a bit. In fact we named Thursday after you,” you said with a smile. 

“That is a heavy honor to bear,” he said with full seriousness.

“Not really, Thursday is the day before a real weekend begins, you’re almost like Monday’s less evil twin, but still evil,” you teased before looking up at him and grinning. 

A small blip of silence passed before Thor calmly said, “I was cast out. I stormed a realm of our enemies and sought out war with people we’d made a treaty with. With one careless action, I destroyed a treaty older than myself.” He hung his head in shame and you pressed your lips into a sympathetic expression, a small frown forming on your face. 

“I’m sorry,” was all you could offer.

“My father and I argued, he called me cruel and vain, I called him old and foolish. Before I knew it, he took Mjolnir and took away my power and cast me out. My banishment, the threat of a new war, it was all too much for him and he died. My brother is king now and our mother forbids my return. That is why I can’t return. That is my fate…” 

A tear dropped from his eye and you felt yourself naturally reaching towards his hand. You gripped it, and gave it a small, reassuring squeeze, to which he squeezed gently back.

“That seems… harsh,” you stated. “You made a mistake, but to banish you from your home forever… No mother would choose her husband over her son. Perhaps your actions did put too much stress on your father but… I doubt this is the first time you’ve made a mistake. Surely she doesn’t hold you responsible.”

“According to my brother, she does.”

“Your brother? You’ve heard from him since you’ve been here?” 

“Yes, while I was put in that room near my hammer,” he stated. “He visited me and told me everything.”

“Is your brother, by chance, perhaps… uh, pale, with dark hair?” you asked, trying to avoid using words like “gorgeous” “breathtaking” “stunning in all physical aspects”. 

“Yes, why?” 

“We met, I think,” you said, your eyes cast down to the town below. “I went in to see what Mjolnir was. I felt a pull to it… But he was there.”

“That’s impossible,” Thor stated.

“That’s what he said,” you noted with a scoff.

“No, I mean… He shielded himself from the mortals, from the humans. I know some of his tricks and he used one while he was here, not to alert anyone. The only way you could’ve seen him is if…” 

“Is if what, Thor?” you pried, taking a step closer to him. Part of you already knew the answer, but you needed validation for this.

“Is… if you’re Asgardian…” 

Quietness filled the space between you two as you thought on his words. Could they be true? Could you really be from another world? If so, how? Why? 

“Tell me about it,” you softly requested, thirsty to hear it straight from the horse’s mouth.

For a moment Thor seemed unsure what to say. His golden features twisted into a look of ponder before he began. “The kingdom looks as though gold touched everything. Our palace is so massive, I haven't seen every corner of it. The people are kind, caring. Never selfish. The food is savory, but humble. Sweet, and subtle… Animals of all kinds canvas the woodland areas. The markets are so plentiful, it’s hard to choose where to go or what to get.”

“It sounds like heaven. It sounds blissful,” you mused. “I wish I could go there someday.”

“I wish I could show you,” he said with a thoughtful sigh. 

You placed your hand on his shoulder. “You’ll return, one day. I know it…” 

“You’re too kind, Lady Y/N.”

“I have hope, that’s all. I have hope that SHIELD will surrender what they took from us, from Jane, and return her work. I have hope that my friend will finally be asked out on a date by a guy who is clearly in love with her. I have hope that my work in physics will change a few lives.”

“You’re a very wise human,” Thor complimented.

You shook your head and laughed. “I’m a hopeless romantic. I see good in every situation. It can sometimes be a downfall.”

“Optimism can never be a bad thing, not where I come from.” 

His words warmed you and you smiled up at him, where he returned the gesture. The two of you looked up to the stars as Thor started to tell you about the nine realms, more about Asgard, and some of the places he’d been. Mainly he went places to battle people, but sometimes he saw some really beautiful places. 

But as the night grew on, you became exhausted. The two of you bid goodnight until the morning.

tags:

@reigningqueenofwords  @cas-you-assbutt-dean-needs-you @winchester-writes @winchesterenthusiast @georgialouisea @deansdirtylittlesecretsblog @dammit-stark @livelikeawinchester @sammysbuttcheek @bran2015 @misz-adrii @sandlee44 @womanxofletters @natsuccs @childishhoebinoo  @depressed-moose-78 @oldfreakything​ @expecteddifferent @girl-next-door-writes @fanaticfanfiction @dakotapaigelove @sassy-spn-knight-of-hell​

[nightqueendany]

The Original Final Season 7 - Preface

Okay guys. I’m still polishing up some of the later episodes, but this whole thing is almost done. And as motivation to make me finish the later episodes and publish them, I’m going to give you Episode 1 today, in a post directly following this one. If you do not see the link just yet, simply refresh this post and I should have put it in place, pending no issues with my Internet connection.

I’ve talked about this A LOT. What follows below and in subsequent weeks (I’m going to make you guys suffer, I’m going to put each episode out weekly) is 1) my explanation for WHY specifically I believe there was an “Original Final Season 7” and also, 2) WHAT I believe that Final Season contained.

NOTE: I will refer to the actual show events of Seasons 7 and 8 as “show canon” and will refer to my speculation as “Original Final Season 7.”

*Disclaimer because I have this weird feeling I’m going to get bombarded with anons asking me for links to “the original scripts” or interviews where this is all mentioned or something:

THIS IS ALL MY OWN SPECULATION. NONE OF THIS HAS BEEN PROVEN TRUE. THERE ARE NO “ORIGINAL SCRIPTS” FOR A FINAL SEASON 7...THAT I KNOW OF.

Alright, now that that’s taken care of, I’m gonna lay this out here for you guys. (Parts of this may get fanficky but whatever, this is what makes the most sense in my mind based on what we’ve got on the table).

(Also note, this series will be really really fucking long because it includes what I *think* the original Season was, and evidence from aired episodes as to why I think that, along with long-winded, detailed descriptions of scenes, etc. Sorry not sorry)

Here is how I went about this speculation to determine what I believe was likely the “Original Final Season 7”:

1) I looked for instances in the series as a whole where plots were never finished OR scenes/lines were either retconned or never paid off  - i.e. Dany’s S2 throne room scene script clearly saying “snow” and in 8x06 it’s now ash - post Emmy script release note: the script may say “snow” but remember, it’s the same day as the attack on the city from 8x05 when it was sunny and super hot outside. Either the script was changed just to make it say “snow” OR it was snow in the 8x06 episode, but D&D literally changed the fucking weather just to make it snowing in Dany’s throne room scene when King’s Landing hasn’t had snow since 7x07. Either way, something was retconned and it’s fucking idiotic and hella obvious.

2) I examined Seasons 7&8 specifically for the same things - scenes/lines never paid off or left unfinished/unexplained, i.e. Yara’s line “somewhere the dead can’t go” when this was never needed because the Night King was defeated in one episode; also all the baby talk between Jon and Dany and Dany never being pregnant in show canon.

3) I looked for instances in the series where a plot was “undone” in a very short span of time. Meaning, something that could have taken seasons upon seasons for buildup but was scrapped or easily deconstructed an episode later or same episode - i.e. Jaime/Brienne finally getting together in 8x04 and Jaime leaving Brienne that same episode; also Theon rescuing Yara from Euron’s ship very easily in 8x01 when she was a captive for most of Season 7.

4) And lastly, I looked for things that have been said/mentioned either in show canon or by cast/staff that ignores something previous that is a contradiction of their words - i.e. Jon pledging to Dany in 7x06 after she already said she would help him and Jon in 8x01 saying he gave up his crown so Dany would come help OR Dan Weiss saying in 7x05 that Dany isn’t mad and isn’t her father and then in S8 naming Dany the “Mad Queen”.

There are many of these instances in the series so it wasn’t hard to map out a rough outline of what I believe the “Original Final Season 7” was.

So, why do I even think there even was an original, final Season 7 outline/possibly even an entire Season of script? Why do I think this a likely possibility rather than me just being a delusional Dany Stan who wanted a different ending for my fave?

Back as early as 2013, after season 3 ended, the number 7 was being thrown around. Seven seasons to finish the series.

[Producer Frank] Doelger said: “[The number of series (seasons)] is being discussed as we speak. The third season was the first half of book three, season four will be the second part of book three. George RR Martin has written books four and five; six and seven are pending....I would hope that, if we all survive, and if the audience stays with us we’ll probably get through to seven seasons.”

Keep in mind, at this same time, D&D had also JUST had their meeting with George about the series endpoints.

“Last year we went out to Santa Fe for a week to sit down with him [Martin] and just talk through where things are going, because we don’t know if we are going to catch up and where exactly that would be. If you know the ending, then you can lay the groundwork for it. And so we want to know how everything ends. We want to be able to set things up. So we just sat down with him and literally went through every character.”

Vanity Fair, March 24th, 2014 (LAST year being spring 2013)

So this meeting on the series conclusion took place right when D&D were just polishing up the scripts for Season 4, before filming began that summer). A year after their meeting with George, (the same 2014 Vanity Fair article), D&D apparently played with the idea of an eighth season, but that could have just been the reporter’s speculation.

In other interviews, they were fairly adamant about 7 being the “magic number.” And back in the very beginning when Dave and Dan first started Thrones, they always said they imagined the series taking 70-75 hours to tell the story - so again, the equivalent of 70 episodes or a normal full 7 Seasons of 10 episodes each).

With the major complaint from both last season and season 8 being that it felt “rushed” however, people may wonder how the hell the series was supposed to conclude after Season 6. However, when you think about it, Season 7 being the final season doesn’t seem that odd if it were originally going to be a regular 10 episode arc. The final two seasons only totaled 13 episodes anyway, so really, it’s just three fewer episodes than in the version that we got. And if some episodes in the final Season 7 were over an hour long, the series as a whole would easily reach that 70-75 hours D&D always talked about.

So, what was the original 10 episode final Season 7 supposed to look like?

Season 7 Episode 1: ?

Season 7 Episode 2: ?

Season 7 Episode 3: ?

Season 7 Episode 4: ?

Season 7 Episode 5: ?

Season 7 Episode 6: ?

Season 7 Episode 7: ?

Season 7 Episode 8: ?

Season 7 Episode 9: ?

Season 7 Episode 10: ?

To figure out the outline of the 10 Episode Final Season, let’s start near the end.

ONE FINAL BATTLE

Author George R.R. Martin, whose series of novels forms the basis for Thrones, had revealed to the duo the broad strokes of how his Song of Ice and Fire saga secretly ends, including a description of an epic FINAL BATTLE that’s been teased from the show’s VERY FIRST SCENE. But this climactic confrontation was miles out of reach for a series that cost about $5 million per episode. “We have a very generous budget from HBO, but we know what’s coming down the line and, ultimately, it’s not generous enough,” Benioff said.

EW

When Entertainment Weekly interviewed D&D back during the filming of Season 3, D&D made it sound like George had planned only ONE final battle - the battle between the living and the dead. Not two battles, one with the living against the dead and another later battle with the living against the living. Just ONE.

(Also should note, this says the FINAL BATTLE was teased from the show’s FIRST scene, which contained the White Walkers but not Daenerys. Daenerys didn’t even appear in the episode until sometime much later meaning the “epic final battle” was about the White Walkers, not Dany burning down King’s Landing as we got in show canon).

Both the books and the show begin by showing the audience the threat beyond the Wall. This is the main threat. This is the main event. The Game of Thrones doesn’t matter and is a distraction for both the audience and the characters. In GRRM’s original outline, he explicitly says that the greatest threat to the realm of Westeros is the Others and that there will be one final battle.

So this was our original “Episode 9”. Literally and figuratively. Episode 9 is always supposed to be the episode where the craziest thing happens in the entire season - Ned’s death, Battle of Blackwater, Red Wedding, Battle at Castle Black, Dany flying away on Drogon from the fighting pits of Meereen, Battle of the Bastards.

The only exception to this could be argued to be Season 5 as Jon Snow is killed in Episode 10, not episode 9. However, the change in structure of the season was probably the biggest clue to the audience that Jon wasn’t going to stay dead, as they had never ended a season on a cliffhanger of the death of a major character. We’ve always been given one more episode afterward to process said character’s death.

If Jon were going to die and stay dead, he would have died in Season 5 Episode 9, because of this pattern: Season 1 Episode 9 - Stark death (Ned). Season 2 Episode 9 - Battle (Blackwater). Season 3 Episode 9 - Stark death (Robb). Season 4 Episode 9 - Battle (Castle Black). Season 5 Episode 9 - no Stark death (where there should have been - and a Battle was in Episode 8 - Hardhome). Season 6 Episode 9 makes up for the flaw in the pattern where we get a Battle and a Stark death (Rickon).

Ergo, based on George’s original outline, D&D’s previous statements about George’s plan, and the pattern, 7x09 was the original Battle for the Dawn. So that’s what I’ll call this episode.

Season 7 Episode 1: ?

Season 7 Episode 2: ?

Season 7 Episode 3: ?

Season 7 Episode 4: ?

Season 7 Episode 5: ?

Season 7 Episode 6: ?

Season 7 Episode 7: ?

Season 7 Episode 8: ?

Season 7 Episode 9: The Battle For The Dawn

Season 7 Episode 10: ?

I don’t want to give the entire season away just yet, as I’ll be posting each episode in full detail, but I will fill in one more “event” from the outline above.

In the 7x06 Inside the Episode, David Benioff said something that I’ve always found very interesting.

“The whole path of the show, in some way, had been trying to map out all the episode endpoints and with this one, it was the dragon opening its blue eye. And realizing that the Night King has finally gotten his own weapon of mass destruction.”

This statement really made me think because a) it tells us how D&D planned the series - mapping everything out by episode endpoints. And b) Benioff doesn’t say “the ending of the penultimate episode of Season 7.” He just says, “this one.” So this tells me, if anything, D&D had always planned to kill Viserion and have the Night King raise him as his mount. BUT it also tells me this was always meant to happen in 7x06, regardless of when Season 7 ended….either at an Episode 7 or an Episode 10.

Season 7 Episode 1: ?

Season 7 Episode 2: ?

Season 7 Episode 3: ?

Season 7 Episode 4: ?

Season 7 Episode 5: ?

Season 7 Episode 6: ends with Wight!Viserion opening his blue eye

Season 7 Episode 7: ?

Season 7 Episode 8: ?

Season 7 Episode 9: The Battle For The Dawn

Season 7 Episode 10: ?

So what does each episode of the “Original Final Season 7″ look like? The following posts will be my rendering of a final, ten-episode Season 7 with explanations as to why certain events happen and why they’re likely based on the show canon, Seasons 7 and 8.

Without further adieu, here is what I believe to be the Original Final Season 7:

(Links to come weekly as I post each Episode, if link does not work immediately, just refresh a few times until it does. Two episodes today as Episode 1 is very short and familiar, Episode 3 next Tuesday!)

Original Final Season 7: Preface Post (Current Episode)

Season 7 Episode 1: Family, Duty, Honor

Season 7 Episode 2: Greywater Watch

Season 7 Episode 3: The Last of the Dragons

Season 7 Episode 4: Dragonglass

Season 7 Episode 5: The Storm

Season 7 Episode 6: Summerhall 

Season 7 Episode 7: A City Fit For A King

Season 7 Episode 8: Protectors of the Realm

Season 7 Episode 9: The Battle For The Dawn

Season 7 Episode 10: ?

[clownjail]

A Robot's Kokoro

A little gift for @minoux, even though her VN hasn't come out and I probably got all the characters personality wrong, I'm craving Iris content and so I had to do it myself 😤😤

Pairing(s): Iris x Asuka

Word Count: 1, 728

Trigger Warning: None!

The winter was always tough during this time of year, Asuka knew that more than anyone, working in the hospital had its fair share of ups and downs, there were times she couldn’t even leave her office till the next day. Though it was chaotic at times, she didn’t mind it, not like she had anything going on in her personal life...or she thought.

“Wait, what!? I don’t understand…” Asuka looked at the AI in front of her, astonished that she even brought it up, fully knowing the circumstances that is going on in her workplace. 

“What is not to understand? I want you to be at my next concert.” Iris calmly said. Asuka heaved a heavy sigh, she knew that Iris wasn’t asking for much, and if she really didn’t want to go she could always say no and Iris would understand but that was thing, she wanted to go. They hadn’t had a moment of peace together since the holiday season started, Asuka was booked with work and Iris had several concerts and meet ups that she was scheduled to go, and even if this moment of peace was filled with screaming eleven year old boys in the crowd, she really just wanted to spend time with her.  

But on the other hand, what will happen if she missed a day off work? The seniors there are pretty ruthless and would never let her hear the end of it, they would probably make her do even more work than she already has…

“While I’m flattered that you’re inviting me, I don’t have tickets to go, and besides my schedule is already packed” Asuka explained. Iris stared at her blankly, though her expression was hard to understand what she was thinking at times, Asuka trusted that Iris  understood what she was trying to say.

“Ah I see, I thought you would say that...ah yes, I still have it...” Iris mumbled under her breath,  as she was digging through her purse. Asuka raised her eyebrows at the sight, wondering what her AI girlfriend was doing. 

“Here you go, now you don’t have an excuse not to go” Iris said as she handed a VIP ticket to Asuka. Asuka stared at the VIP ticket in her hand, completely dumbfounded, and also a little bit flustered.

“H-how did you get this!? I thought they were all sold out already?” Asuka choked out, not knowing the right words or what to say, she never thought she would ever get the chance to touch -let alone see- a VIP ticket yet here it was, and it was for Iris concert nonetheless. Then again it could be the perks of dating an idol who knows their way around the industry. 

“Well it is my concert after all silly human” Asuka blushed at Iris accidental teasing, knowing full well it was a dumb question to ask. 

“But I still have to go to...wait, where are you going?!” Looking away from her VIP ticket for the first time, she saw Iris was already headed out the door but before she left, Iris turned her head around.

“I’ll see you in the concert then” 

And just like that, she gently closed the door, leaving poor Asuka alone dumbfounded and confused.

“What did I just get myself into..? Let’s just hope my boss will understand....”

~~~~

“This was definitely a mistake…” Asuka thought to herself bitterly, standing inside the backstage room. She somehow managed to convince her boss to give her the day off by pretending to be sick, but now that she was here, she couldn’t help but feel nervous. What if they somehow found out she was lying? What if the seniors at her workplace see her at the concert? They’ll probably never let her hear the end of it…

“Ah you came, I’m glad” Iris interrupted her thoughts, Asuka mentally thanked her for that. 

“Are you alright? You look quite squeamish” Iris asked, noting how nervous Asuka looked. Asuka flushed d at her comment, was she really that obvious? She hoped that Iris couldn’t tell what was wrong, she was a programmed AI so why would she? 

“I-im alright!! Really, you don’t need to baby me!” Asuka snapped out of embarrassment, Iris however didn’t seem to notice. Not taking the hint, Iris comes closer to her, the nose were basically touching each other, there was no leftover space between them.

“Are you sure? Your heart is beating faster than a normal human rate, and besides, your face is so red, that usually doesn’t happen unless they’re embarrassed or lying...are you lying to me?” 

“I-i…”  Asuka choked out, she was a stuttering mess, not knowing what to say. Iris blue dull eyes were staring right at her and Asuka didn’t know how to feel or what to do, all she could do is just stare at her and nod. 

“Iris your up!” Before Iris could say anything else, and before Asuka could die inside a bit more, her manager luckily swooped in before things could go further. Iris backed away and nodded at her manager, giving Asuka time to breath and comprehend what had just happened.

Before she left however, Iris walked up to Asuka, this time not as close, crouched down just a bit and gave her a sweet cold kiss on the cheek. After what happened Asuka was prepared for anything to happen but she will be lying if she said was anticipating a kiss on the cheek, maybe a hug but not that!

“W-what did you do that for dummy!!” Asuka snapped again in embarrassment, holding her cheek that Iris kissed, so that Iris couldn’t see she was blushing. 

“Hm is it not natural to kiss someone on the cheek for good luck,? I thought that was common among humans”

“Yeah but I kiss your cheek for good luck, not the other way around!!”

“I see, will then you care to kiss my cheek for good luck then?” 

“Iris you need to get going!” Her manager snapped, interrupting the banter between the two, Asuka was grateful for that. Iris nodded and out the door they went, leaving a very flustered Asuka by herself.

~~~

The concert was a big success to no one’s surprise, but even so Asuka was happy for her, and so she suggested they celebrate her success.

“I don’t know why we are here” Iris said.

“We are here to celebrate obviously!” Asuka replied happily, as she played with the cats.

“I didn’t know celebrating meant going to a cat cafe” Iris dryly replied, petting the numerous cats that were coming to her. Asuka rolled her eyes, there wasn’t a lot of places they could go without being spotted, besides going to a normal cafe, Asuka would imagine Iris would get bored of it since she can’t drink or eat so a cat cafe was the obvious best choice. Asuka could eat and drink as much as she likes and Iris can entertain herself with the kitties, a perfect solution.

Just as Asuka was going to say something, someone somehow noticed Iris, who was dressed in her everyday clothing, and one thing lead to another and now they were swamped in a crowd of fans. Asuka sighed, standing away from the crowd far as possible, as Iris waved and smiled, just her luck, the one moment of peace they had together privately was ruined.

“Asuka, is that you! Aren’t you supposed to be sick?!” In the crowd of screaming fanboys, there was one in particular that stood out from the rest and that just so happens to be her boss. All the colors of her skin, left her ghostly white as she saw him marching toward her, there was a thousands of excuses that popped up in her head yet not one of them stuck.

“Boss, what are you doing here!” Trying to switch the topic away from her, Asuka switched it back at him. Boss lowly growled at him, clearly amused with her silly attempts to save herself from a lecture and a possibly fired.

“Wait I can explain..!” 

“Sure you can, after I’m-”

“Is there a problem here sir?” Iris interrupted, successfully getting away from the crowd.

“This doesn’t  involve you lady, -oh my god it’s you! Iris, can I get your autograph! I’m so sorry for disrespecting you my queen, I’m so sorry! Please forgive me!” Asuka looked absolutely shocked at the man in front of her, was this really the same guy as her strict boss? Iris didn’t pay him any mind, and just kept nodding along, clearly not paying attention to his useless rambling.

“Thank you for your support and now if you excuse me, we have a date to continue and I hope in the future there will be no trouble” Asuka snapped her head at Iris direction, glaring at her, she just can’t be going around telling people about their relationship!

“..A-ah yes very well! Have a good day to both of you!!” Asuka could tell he was startled by her confession but didn’t bring it up. After he left, Asuka couldn’t mask her frustrations and continued to glare at Iris.

“Why do you look so upset?”

“Because maybe it has to do with you airing our relationship like that! You’re lucky the press wasn’t here but who knows if he was going to tell them and the people at my work will never let me hear the end of it-”

“It’s not like the press are going to believe him without some type of evidence. Besides the majority of the people you work with are old, so it’s not like they know who he’s talking about. They’ll probably think he’s delusional.” 

Asuka sighed, she knows she’s right but she couldn’t help but still jump to the worst case scenario.

“If that doesn’t stop them then I will take care of it, so don’t worry” Iris flashed a small smile at Asuka direction and then continued to play with the cats. Asuka rolled her eyes but didn’t push it any further, she had a gut feeling in mind that she didn’t want to know, what Iris meant by that.

“Whatever floats your boat Iris…”

“But I don’t have a boat to float on? Or is that another of your weird human ways of speaking?”

“No, it’s-, ah nevermind! Just eat your food...!"

"But-"

"Shut up!!"

[larriefails]

This new BPH2 post, she really can’t let go of 1D or the past, can she?

The amount of drivel...

------

------

Harry was portrayed as a lothario BEFORE July 2011? By whom? Doing what? He didn’t date anyone until C*roline (sorry, I make one exception for censoring names and that’s for child groomers) in like, November 2011, there were jokes about him liking Madison, the girl from WMYB but that wouldn’t be until August anyway. Articles about various 1D members dating or hooking up with fans were run of the mill, but that was for all of them. Cher Lloyd got linked to literally every member except Louis, and that’s because he had a girlfriend. Harry was seen as flirty and fans joked around about his unfortunate pussygate moment, but clearly, he brought that on himself, and it was after X Factor anyway

The only possible “Harry is a lothario” push she could be talking about is that jokey video where Harry is seen as having overlapping dates with all the girls at boot camp, but it’s obviously tongue in cheek, it finishes with Harry going on a date with Wagner, a 50 something year old Portuguese (?) man. And this was BEFORE the band was put together. Why would Liam, or anyone, have to be seen as a lothario anyway? Confused

Louis and Hannah’s relationship wasn’t “spotlighted” they were just dating... so she was there... and they talked about it on the show I think once, maybe twice. None of the other boys had significant others at the beginning. When Zayn started dating one of the girls from Belle Amie (a girl group that was competing there as well), it was actually spotlighted, same when he dated Rebecca Ferguson

She says “switching 1Direction to One Direction” to seem knowledgeable, it’s hilarious. One Direction’s twitter account was created on October 29th 2010 and it was already stylized “OneDirection,” this is just a “the more you know” bullet point she learned that she decided to throw in there to get more credibility. Anyone that’s been a fan for long already knew this, it was stated as a fact in one of their books, but don’t ask me which one now cuz it’s been 7 years. Anyways, what an important marketing decision, Kati, it surely affected a lot of the outcome of the band that would be known as “1D” by 90% of its fanbase anyway

“But there was no larger strategy until July 2011″

NO SHIT SHERLOCK. U wanna know why? Because they didn’t have music out until August... you really are some fresh brand of stupid, huh. Who would waste money in marketing campaigns months and months before having any music to sell? All of them were heavily involved in social media anyway, and with strategic performances here and there, some interviews, a very well received book, signing days, and several other nuggets, they managed to build a stronger fanbase and a lot of anticipation by the time they released WMYB. There was definitely marketing, but, no, of course there wasn’t an overarching marketing campaign for a band with no music for six months.. Just like there isn’t, idk, a hot air balloon business for cheetahs..

And that’s how she starts.. everything after that is drivel and more and more drivel. Very little of it makes any sort of sense or is backed up by any facts other than her wanting things to be that way

Such as this entire paragraph which has me in fucking stitches

-----

------

Listen, I’m sure more older people became fans as the band became more popular, and I’m sure there are some men sprinkled in between, but PROFOUND DEMOGRAPHIC SHIFT? Except Harry and Zayn, who have cultivated an older skewing demographic, the core fan base is STILL 13-18 year old girls. And even Harry and Zayn have large percentages of their fan base in that age group still. She really thinks the tumblr side of fandom is in any way indicative of the larger fandom, it’s fascinating to read someone that’s supposed to be old and wise, who’s a mother and a wife, be so blatantly wrong and so delusional. Not even in the tumblr side of fandom now are the fans mostly older with established careers. That’s just the big Larries, and big Larries are what? 1 in 2,000 One Direction blogs? (and I doubt at least 50% of their “well established careers” are real, but I’m not into doxxing people so I’ll take their word for it)

I almost lost my mind when she called tumblr tinhat wank “objective debate and evidence-based discussion.” OBJECTIVE! O B J E C T I V E? bulletprooflarry, the person that left tumblr for a month when Harry announced his solo career because she had been saying for ages he’d never go solo and couldn’t handle being so OBJECTIVELY wrong, is talking about OBJECTIVE DISCUSSION???? Kati you wouldn’t know what actual objective discussion is if it slapped you repeatedly with something smelly while yelling “I am objective discussion” as a plane writes in the sky “objective discussion is slapping you in the face” and some sirens wailed in the distance

Not even gonna go there with “evidence-based” .. I’m sure ur tag “all the reasons ever needed” filled with cropped and edited gifs of 17 yo Harry and 19 yo Louis looking at each other for 0.03 seconds in slow mo would hold in court very well

-----------

---------

H I L A R I O U S. Never seen before! Novel!!!! Only happening because of “this new smarter fandom with professional experience”! No other tinhat fandom doubts the protagonists of their conspiracy theory handle their social media! That’s just the new smarter fandom filled with professional men and women in 1D. Crisscolfer, Kaylor, Supernatural, Camren, you name it. Any CT mined fandom where social media is used, believes the exact same bullshit, Kati. U R NOT SPECIAL. You’re not smarter. The Larrie fandom didn’t “wise up” it tinhatted up. If you left your conspiracy bubble for three seconds and waltzed into literally any other corner of the entertainment world, you’d see that

After this, she drivels on and on about “pics or it didn’t happen” and shit like that. None of it is special to this fandom, Kati. None of it. What you’re describing is tinhatting. It has nothing to do with “this new smarter fandom.” Unless of course you believe in every other celeb conspiracy theory out there and how all the CT fandoms have also, coincidentally, become “smarter”

--------

------

This is equal parts self centered, arrogant, delusional, and wrong. 1D’s team did a ton of things to get new fans and it succeeded largely at it. 1D was one of the largest bands in terms of fanbase in the world. It got away with selling millions upon millions of records and selling out stadiums without getting huge songs. To this day a vast majority of the general public only knows 2 or 3 One Direction songs (WMYB, SOML, some will know Drag Me Down). I think it was too big for the teams it had, for sure, but that’s just logic speaking for itself. What other clients the caliber of 1D did Simon Jones, Modest, or Syco have? The only big fish in the game was Columbia. And at times it definitely showed in a lot of things. But to say that they were playing catch up for five years and had no plan whatsoever, is simply disingenuous. And so self aggrandizing.. Recognizing that they had their failures? Cool. Sitting oatur computer at home and pretending that u kknow better how to handle it? Demented

-------

----------

You know when you read something that’s so wrong that you don’t even know where to start? Yeah..

You were lied about the band getting back together. One by one they have admitted to it, even if not in so many words. First Zayn said he didn’t even like being in 1D ever. Then Harry refused to ever confirm the band would get back together. You had Niall, Liam, and Louis preaching 18 months/2 years, but that soon changed. Niall got tired of being asked a few months into his promo in 2017, said “idk, man, idk! someday!” and asked not to be asked again. Liam lasted a little longer, but he literally said “ask the others, idk, man, idk!” a few months back. The only one standing is Louis, and I firmly believe it’s simply because he hasn’t done as much promo as Niall and Liam, who must’ve reached the point of exhaustion. His defeated “idk, man, idk” is happenning soon. I can feel it in my bones

There’s no leadership in 1DHQ because there is no 1DHQ because there is no 1D. The band is broken up. Gone. Donezo. There’s no one to steer one topic to the next

It’s not the “lack of leadership” which lead the fans to create “microfandoms.” It’s the fact that every member has gone solo..... that created microfandoms. You’re over 40, Kati, please, for the love of God, stop hanging onto a boyband that’s been dead for four years. This is so pathetic to read. Fans less than half your age cried about their lost band for a few days and got over it. You’re still throwing hissy fits on tumblr and talking about it as if it wasn’t deceased

----------

----------

Just... no

----------

----------

Louis DOES NOT have the most hardcore fans inside of 1D. He has the most LARRIES. His fanbase is almost entirely conformed by conspiracy theorists, that’s why it seems so hardcore to you. This is not a positive. As a fan of Louis, I can assure you it is not. This doesn’t translate well into literally anything. Y’all are a nuisance and ruin everything. You’re not fans of Louis, you don’t even LIKE HIM. You despise everything about him and everything he is. Everything he does. All the things that have shaped him. You call everything he says a lie and mock his desperate attempts for you to LISTEN TO HIM. That’s the exact opposite of a hardcore fanbase, you shithead. That’s as fickle as it gets, it can (and does) get lost any second. The smallest of his moves can set y’all off and wipe thousands of you from his ranks. Because none of you like even a little of who he really is. Y’all are gonna leave him sooner or later. It’s just a matter of when, not if. Hardcore my fucking ass

What has Harry done to make older white men think he’s cool? Paint his nails? Wear glitter and flowery suits? Sing about men? Proclaim at every chance he gets that he LOVES his mostly female/young audience? That he thinks they’re amazing and how much he appreciates them? What is it that appeals older white men? All the rainbows in everything he does? The only thing “older white men” might like about Harry is his music and its inspiration, that’s where it starts and where it ends, but everything he’s done and said since he’s gone solo is prone to prejudice them against him. He hasn’t lifted a finger to appeal to them. His team didn’t even push his songs on Adult/Contemporary radios (Niall’s did, but I don’t see you talking about that). Yeah, Hall Of Fame will expose him to that audience as well, but you know who else did Hall Of Fame? Miley Cyrus. Was she trying to appeal to older white men? Was that Jannelle Monae’s goal while inducing Janet Jackson? He’s co chairing the MET Gala in a couple of weeks. How’s that for a white older male audience? Being a Gucci model under Alessandro Michele must’ve helped a lot, I’m sure 🙄

--------------

---------

“If One Direction was going to come back” NO. Next question

[samwpmarleau]

#9 Arianne and Daemon for the ask meme please?

For this meme.

9. in public

She hadn’t particularly wanted to go to her ten-year reunion. Most of the people she liked from high school she still hangs out with, and the ones she didn’t like she doesn’t see why she should care what they’re up to. But ultimately she had been convinced.

And actually, it’s not that bad at first–even if she does think it started a bit silly:

Garlan Tyrell, class president, and Jynessa Blackmont, head of the alumni committee, had co-organized the event, and along with the requisite nametags had handed everyone a ballot asking who the reunion king and queen should be. She’d done as requested, but really? Electing a court at prom is one thing; but a decade later? Not that it would really matter who she personally writes down, because no doubt the crowns would go to the same pair who were named at prom.

She also enjoys looking at the then-and-now yearbook photos and accompanying bios. She will admit it is kind of novel to see the trajectories of everyone’s lives, whether that be as upper management in a major corporation or a burger-flipper at a fast-food joint.

The bios also make her feel better about her own single-ness that there are plenty of others without partners; some of them are very much a surprise. One that especially stands out is Daemon Sand, whom she’d dated for all of eighth grade–as much as you can “date” anyone when you’re thirteen–but had parted ways with that summer and thereafter had run in a different social circle.

He’d been exceptionally kind, she remembers, and now that he’s out of braces, has exited the gangly stage that had lasted six years, and figured out what to do with his hair, he’s…rather nice to look at. Yet there it is in the Now section: Single.

She’s not here for that, however, so she peruses the rest of her classmates’ information, then gets swept up in a conversation with a former chem lab partner. Her partner had stuck with science, going on to get a master’s in biochemistry, and as she’s in the middle of telling a story about a fellow researcher, there’s a tap on Arianne’s shoulder. It takes her a minute, and then with an internal groan, she recognizes the face. Her erstwhile lab partner clearly recognizes him, too, and politely excuses herself.

Arianne wishes she hadn’t.

“Hi, Arys,” she greets with an overlarge smile. “Long time no see.”

Her ex-boyfriend has not aged well. What had been undeniable attractiveness in high school has given way to a receding hairline and pudginess that looks out of place on his once-lean frame. His appearance isn’t important, but it’s hard not to notice that time has not been as kind to him as to others.

“How have you been?” he asks. “Is your job treating you well?”

“Yeah, it’s good. Can’t complain.” To be polite, she follows up, “And you?”

“I’m okay.” He shifts closer to her, which starts setting off warning bells in her head. “You know, I’ve thought about you a lot over the years. Especially recently.”

“Oh?”

Why me, she thinks. Why now. WHY.

“I saw in the yearbook display that you’re single,” he says. “I am, too. I think we should make a go of it.”

There’s almost nothing she’d like less, and frankly, being approached so suddenly and with such expectation is off-putting. “I’m, uh…I’m flattered, but I’m not interested. I’m sorry.”

“But why? You said you loved me.”

“When I was sixteen,” Arianne replies, stunned. She doesn’t add, Even then, only because you said it first and I’d have felt bad if I didn’t say it back.

He doesn’t look wounded; if anything, he looks more determined. “We’ve grown since then. We could make it work.”

“We don’t even know each other anymore, Arys.”

“But we could.”

He’s not going to give up, she realizes. At best, she’d spend the next half-hour continuously rejecting him until she’d have to completely leave the event or make a scene, which she doesn’t want to do. Instead, she resorts to the only thing she thinks would work: the threat of another man.

“It’s more than just not being interested,” she says. “I have a boyfriend, one whom I love very much.”

Regrettably, either she has a poor poker face, or else he’s simply that persistent, for he challenges, “Who?”

She doubts inventing some far-flung boyfriend would fly, so with no other option, she searches the gym. Most of her former classmates are married, engaged, or otherwise attached; of the ones who aren’t, most are men she’d never date or men who’d never date her. Except…perhaps…

“Daemon Sand,” she says. “It’s Daemon.”

“I don’t believe you.”

The level of sheer entitlement grates on her enough to piss her off. “Fine, I’ll prove it.”

She has no idea how exactly she’s supposed to silently communicate in a handful of seconds to Daemon–Daemon, whom she’s barely even friends with on Facebook–that she needs to use him and have him not call the police for harassment. But, desiring nothing more at the moment than to have Arys out of her hair, she meanders her way through the crowd.

Daemon is helping himself to a glass of punch that someone had predictably spiked when he sees them both approaching. Already perplexed, he starts, “Um, hi–”

“Babe,” she greets, praying her expression is desperate enough, “you remember Arys Oakheart, don’t you?”

She links her arm through his with a brief wince that she hopes conveys that she’s neither delusional nor hitting on him. He stares at her, mystified, but then looks over at Arys. “Uh, yeah. You were on the baseball team, right?”

“Yes.”

“I told Arys we’re dating, but he says I’m lying,” she exposits. “I guess he thinks you’re out of my league or something.”

“He thinks I’m–”

“That’s not why,” says Arys.

“You really think,” Arianne retorts, “that I’d just go up to some random guy, pretend he’s my boyfriend, and count on him going along with it? That’s not a thing.”

“Can confirm that’s not a thing,” says Daemon. There’s a faint edge in his voice that tells her, with no shortage of relief, that he’s cottoned on to why she’s carrying on with the charade. “And I’d appreciate it if you’d leave my girlfriend alone, batter. She’s taken.”

With that, Daemon extricates his arm, takes her hand, and leads her to the other end of the gym next to the yearbook display. “He was a pitcher,” Arianne mentions. “There was always a designated hitter.”

Daemon smiles, revealing a set of dimples she’d almost forgotten he had. “I know.”

It’s petty, getting his position wrong on purpose, but she’s not going to complain. “Thank you. Seriously. I can’t tell you how grateful I am for what you did.”

“Anytime. Babe.” After a moment, he gestures in Arys’s direction and asks, “How’d you get mixed up again with that guy?”

“Well, you know we dated in high school. I might have led him on, I don’t know. He thinks we should get back together. Evidently he still hasn’t accepted the reason I broke up with him.”

“Which was?”

“He was pushy. You got a glimpse of that,” she says. When Daemon’s inquisitive expression turns into alarm, she hastily clarifies, “Not that pushy. ‘Needy’ might be a better word. He wanted me to need him in return, and that’s just not me.”

“Good for you for getting out early.”

“I guess. Anyway, thanks again,” Arianne says, not sure where exactly to go with the conversation. “If you ever need me to repay the favor, let me know.”

“Sure.”

She feels his gaze on her as she leaves.

Daemon’s performance seems to have done the trick, for although she catches Arys eyeing her more than once over the next few hours, he doesn’t come up to her again. She manages to return to having a good time–some of that might have to do with imbibing the punch, admittedly–even to the point of having genuine conversations with people who’d never had a good word to say about her.

(To be fair, she’d never had a good word to say about them either.)

There are those who clearly are stuck in their teenage ways, but them she avoids as vehemently as she does Arys. She doesn’t reflect on Daemon much, primarily because she doesn’t find a point in it. She’d thanked him, he’d told her it wasn’t a problem, and that was the end of it.

Or that should have been the end of it.

Arys’s bullshit had made her forget all about that ballot she’d filled out at the beginning. Not so, unfortunately, for Garlan and Jynessa.

“If we could have everyone’s attention, please,” Garlan says into the microphone. “All the votes have been tallied for reunion king and queen, who will have the esteemed honor of crowns straight from Party City and a solo dance.”

Arianne so fully expects the prom royalty to get this dubious distinction, which means it takes her a full seven seconds for her to comprehend that they call out her name. Hers–and Daemon’s.

Of all people? she finds herself bemoaning as Jynessa guides her over to the tipoff circle where Garlan stands holding a set of crowns. She glances up at the ceiling beams where the school’s assortment of championship banners hang, as if expecting to see one of the gods sitting there cackling at her for orchestrating this turn of fate.

She’d been liked well enough in school, but had always been selective about who she was close with, rather than be unanimously gregarious, which left her outside of the popular crowd. And sure, Daemon had been on the soccer team, but she wouldn’t say he was popular either, having kept too much to himself for all that. So to have one, let alone both, of them recognized in this way feels like some cosmic joke.

Nevertheless, she lets Garlan place a tiara on her head and sees Jynessa place a complementary crown on Daemon’s. Arianne glances at the both of them, and Jynessa makes a shooing motion, clearly indicating she expects Arianne to dance in front of everyone.

“So, this is a surprise,” she tells Daemon, reluctantly acquiescing with Jynessa’s urging.

“To say the least. Um…just so you know, I’m no better at this than I was in eighth grade.”

“It’s just slow dancing,” Arianne laughs. “You can’t possibly be bad at it. Come on, we may as well get this over with.”

She puts her arms up on Daemon’s shoulders as he places his around her waist. He makes a face as soon as the song comes on, some throwback pop-ballad.

“Don’t tell me you’re some hipster music snob,” Arianne teases.

“No, it’s just–my last girlfriend broke up with me during this song.”

Oh. Yikes.

“Are you saying I remind you of your ex?” Arianne asks, trying for levity and hoping he doesn’t take it the wrong way.

“Definitely not,” he says quickly. “No, you’re…no.”

She kind of wants to press him on what exactly that means, or whether it’s a good or bad thing, but he plainly isn’t keen on revisiting the matter. “Well, hey, at least she’s not here. Though I suppose that if she were, we could have killed two birds with one stone.”

“I’m not sure she’d have believed it any more than Arys does,” he says. “He’s been glaring at me all night.”

Arianne follows his nod, and indeed there Arys stands, wearing the only glower amongst a crowd whose expressions range from boredom to merriment. She sighs. “I don’t remember him being quite this possessive in high school. Then again, I didn’t hang out with you or guys like you, so that might be why.”

“Guys like me?”

“Uh, yeah. There was hardly some swarm of attractive athletes knocking down my door. Rhae tells me I give off an intimidating vibe, but I don’t know if that’s it. Arys was the exception.”

“And I’m that?”

She can’t tell if he’s pulling her leg or truly doesn’t see it. She takes in the thick brown hair, the close-cropped beard, the sky-blue eyes, the height, the powerful build. The dimples. When she’d chosen him to be her pawn tonight, what he looked like didn’t factor in at all. But now that there’s just the two of them…

The boy I knew has become a handsome man.

It’s an uncomfortable realization that not only is he handsome, but he’s exactly her type.

She clears her throat. “Yeah, you’re that. Objectively speaking. And sweet enough to go along with a scheme for a girl you haven’t spoken with since middle school.”

He frowns slightly but doesn’t respond. He’s not nearly as bad a dancer as he claimed; in fact, it’s quite nice being in his arms. His hands are warm but not clammy, and there’s enough of a height difference between them that she can rest her head comfortably against his chest. She feels…safe.

She pulls away when the song begins to fade to a close, but Daemon doesn’t let her go. His eyes flit up to where she assumes Arys must be, then down to her. Somehow, she knows what he’s going to do, yet despite being in the center of a gym full of former classmates, cheap plastic crowns on their heads, when he kisses her she lets him.

She’s been kissed before, and plenty, but she can’t quite recall a time that left her heart pounding, let alone one as short as this one is. Her only consolation is that when they break apart, Daemon looks about as stunned as she is. More than anything else, their current location be damned, she just wants to kiss him again, to find out if it was simply a matter of nostalgia or whether it really was that phenomenal.

“Were you–was that–”

“Uh-huh.”

“You never, with Arys, or whoever–”

“No.” He’d been fine, so far as her sixteen-year-old self was concerned, but he’d never left her reeling. And her flings since then were just that–flings. Still, reality begins to set in, especially as the reunion resumes. “This is crazy. There’s nothing between us anymore. What’s the point of revisiting the past? I didn’t want to when Arys asked, and I don’t…”

Somehow, she can’t bring herself to finish the rebuke. She can’t recall a valid reason that they broke up, in all honesty. With Arys there was a reason; with Daemon, they’d just mutually decided they should have other experiences. Besides, whoever heard of a romance between thirteen-year-olds lasting?

Daemon takes the first step as he never had back then. “At risk of sounding like Arys…I haven’t stopped thinking about you either, Arianne. Not in high school, or college, or after. About what could have gone differently, or what I should have done differently. In fact, junior year I’d finally decided to ask you to winter formal, but you’d gotten with Arys by then.”

Arianne blinks. “What? Why didn’t you say anything?”

“Would it have mattered?”

“I don’t know. Maybe.” She’d been content enough with Arys, but he hadn’t been someone she envisioned a lifetime with.

“Well, regardless,” says Daemon, sounding a bit rattled, “I shouldn’t have brought this up. You said yourself, no exes. So.”

She’d be lying if she said she’d never thought about him in the years after they’d separated. Sometimes, when she and Arys were going through a rough patch, she would reflect on the simplicity of her previous relationship. There was something to be said about quiet companionship. Yes, they had been young, but all the same, she recalls wondering more than once how it’d have been if she’d stayed with Daemon.

In any event, even if she’d wanted to ignore him completely, she couldn’t–their soccer team was perpetually successful, and despite being a defenseman, Daemon’s name was bandied about as one of the better players. And no matter the circumstances, who forgets about their first boyfriend?

“Your crown is crooked,” she says, to buy herself time on how to respond. She adjusts it. “How about…dinner? It seems we have some unfinished business.”

“Wouldn’t that be a date?”

“No. A casual meal between former classmates, to catch up.” She shrugs. “If we happen to hook up afterwards, so be it.”

“All right,” he smiles. “Dinner then.”