#and that as a recurring pattern makes it seem like he personally doesn’t know how best to divide himself and be himself

[daydreamerdrew]

Iron Man (1968) #36

[shiitake-transcendent]

WTNV Analysis 1, Pilot

These will follow a rough pattern of analyzing individual segments, then analyzing the “overarching plot”, even though this particular episode doesn’t have much in the way of that.

A foreword: my first introduction to wtnv was at a friend’s sleepover, scrolling on my phone long after everyone else went to sleep, staring vacantly out a window at the stars. I started up the first episode on my cheap dollar store earbuds, the kind that only ever have one working earbud, and fell in love with the podcast instantly. In my opinion this is probably the best time to be introduced to wtnv, your mind in an exhausted half-sleep, no longer focused on the semantics of things like logic and reason. Hearing the first words of this podcast fills me with such nostalgia for the way thing were back then.

This will be the last personal anecdote, though.

Segments

“A friendly desert community where the sun is bright, the moon is beautiful, and mysterious lights pass overhead while we all pretend to sleep.” This epigram, as I’m choosing to call it, for lack of a better term, sets the scene quite well. A friendly town, amid a hot desert, but something is… anomalous. You know what you’re in for without really knowing what you’re in for.

The dog park is the first segment of wtnv, it will be a recurring segment in the years to come. It will reveal untold depths.  But for now, I ask, what does the dog park symbolize? There is no correct answer, but I would like for you all to think on it for future appearances.

Old woman josie is meant to evoke the image of a sweet old grandma who is, perhaps, a bit racist. The comment that one of the angels was “black”. This interpretation of her changes with time, but this was the image she was initially meant to invoke. This segment, and this description of one being black, also serves to, perhaps, evoke an image of the angels in your mind. Something, perhaps, of the stereotypically winged human variety. Keep this in mind.

“We have all been scientists at one point in our lives.” Its an interesting quote, what does Cecil refer to here? To the inherent curiosity of childhood? To something more literal perhaps? Of similar nature to future episodes where characters are referenced as being seventeen years old for a long time. It’s impossible to say, really, but I enjoy thinking on it.

The helicopters that are described as having intricate portraits of birds of prey. This is meant to evoke the notion of these helicopters being dangerous, predatory. In this segment about how to let your safely play in the Scrublands, it almost seems to suggest these helicopters are carrying off children as birds of prey carry off small animals. In a segment where the other helicopters mentioned are those of the World Government and the Sherriff’s Secret Police, what makes these helicopters so much more dangerous?

This segment goes on to reference the Sherriff’s Secret Police leaving a carnation on your doorstep to let you know the danger has passed. Knowing flowers tend to always have some symbolic meaning I went combing through resources to try to find carnation symbolism, and while it does broadly vary by color (as many flowers do) I found one page referencing the carnation as “the flower of god”. I don’t know if this means anything or is even related, but I went on a quest and found… something.

The airline disappearance can be likened to reports of the Bermuda triangle, which, in addition to other findings of Carlos’ team of scientists, serves to emphasize the… unusualness of Night Vale. Cecil attributes the plane re-manifesting within a school gym to rival team the Desert Bluffs Cacti. Likely it isn’t their doing. You’ll begin to notice Cecil’s own prejudices in later episodes, but this is notably the first mention of the neighboring town of Desert Bluffs.

“The Indian Tracker” and Cecil’s repeated condemnation of him is… interesting. The Tracker isn’t an antagonistic character precisely, but he is without a doubt a culturally insensitive one. A commentary on the repeated cultural appropriation that has been inflicted upon Native Americans. A Slavic man wearing a headdress that looks tot have come from a Halloween costume, claiming to be able to read tracks on pavement. His appearance here is limited, so I’ll get back to him more in a future analysis.

The blinking lights above the Arby’s represent Cecil and Carlos’ relationship, and will come up again many times in regards to them. Here Cecil claims to understand what the lights are, but claims them to be a threat, similar to his questioning of Carlos’ arrival in Night Vale. Similar to his comment “we have all been scientists at one point in our lives.”

Ghost cars are a popular urban legend. Speeding from parts unknown to parts unknown. Usually when ghost cars are brought up in urban legend the story states that someone died in a car accident, which has happened on just about every major U.S. road, and now haunts that particular road. Is the implication that Night Vale is very haunted, or something else?

The tiered heavens and the hierarchy of angels, which should not be known, relate back to how we perceive old woman Josie. In previous segments about her all we have is her word, that there are angels, that they helped her change a lightbulb, that they took her salt for a divine mission, but now we have an official source saying not only are there angels, but that you shouldn’t openly acknowledge that there are angels. That the tiered heavens and the hierarchy of angels are privileged knowledge. I could, perhaps, draw a link between this and the old days of Christianity, when most of the population was illiterate and church services were held predominantly in Latin. When the contents of the Bible really were privileged information.

Cecil comments the best way to die would be swallowed by a giant snake. He claims this would give life perfect symmetry. Its worth noting that this sort of acceptance of death is a thematic element of Cecil’s character that carries on for a long time.

Overarching Plot

The overarching plot of this episode is about Carlos and his scientists investigating the strange happenings of Night Vale, discovering things like an earthquake no one can feel or the sun setting at the wrong time, or a house that doesn’t exist place precisely between two identical houses.

The sun setting at the wrong time and the earthquake (or lack thereof) serve to somewhat separate Night Vale from the natural order of things. To say that the sun sets at the same time of day everywhere else, perhaps, but this town exists separate from those natural cycles.

There’s an implication that Cecil’s entire office is host to some kind of dangerous “materials”, presumably radioactive, but nothing can truly be presumed about Night Vale. This is where we begin to ask questions about what precisely Cecil is (unless you are satisfied with the answer “radio host” these questions will go unanswered). Carlos’ device gives off the highest reading specifically near the microphone, is Cecil somehow the cause? Who is Cecil as a character, rather than Cecil as a narrator?

 “Look to the north, keep looking, there’s nothing coming from the south” is the first proverb of wtnv, it relates heavily to the prominent themes of misdirection we can already see within the show after just the first episode. Night Vale has a habit of presenting us with something that feels normal and familiar: a waterfront and recreation area, and then introducing something anomalous about it: Night Vale has no waterfront. It’s a hallmark of Night Vale’s particular narrative style, and I think the first proverb illustrates this quite well. “Look to the North.” But what do we see there? Nothing. It’s what we don’t see, coming from the south.

[cuddling-siren]

warning, may describe some unsavory situations from nightmares ahead

Ok, so I’m no stranger to lucid/vivid nightmares that I can usually remember, even if with some missing details, but every so often I have bad dreams that aren’t inherently scary but they are extremely uncomfortable and unsettling...

I think, for me, this mostly happens when it involves some kind of sexual assault or even just sexual acts that are vivid and sometimes a little...weird (weird situations, complete strangers, colors, or scenery). The best way I can put this is as if you are a kid watching something happen, and you aren’t completely sure what it is, but there’s something wrong with it. (the atmosphere of these dreams are always skewed).

Back to my point; it ends up leaving me pretty anxious the rest of the day after waking up, for whatever reason it may be. Sometimes it may be related to real-life issues, but more often than not I can’t accurately pinpoint where it comes from. (Including the fact of things like I don’t have sleep apnea or didn’t eat before, didn’t watch anything “scary” etc.)

They rarely follow common patterns of dreams/nightmares (with deeper meanings); you know the ones, things like being chased, falling, drowning, being late, etc. These are always weirdly intricate.

I’m gonna just talk about my dream last night, because the other part of this is that I more than likely remember all my nightmares and they are recurring. So last night is one of those; I know I’ve been there before, but it’s different. I’m in a sort of maze and obstacle course with one other person, who at the beginning attacks me after stealing my name tag and doesn’t give it back. All other contestants are generally kind and there is a pretty happy atmosphere and color palette. But the catch to this dream is that it’s clear that we are going to die some way or another.

At the end of one obstacle, there’s a single bullet, but no gun. My partner and I haven’t come across the gun, which means we either missed it, or someone else has it. Completely normal, we don’t feel offput by this detail.

A little further away is a sign, telling us that if we’ve noticed all the cameras close by watching us, then to point them all towards a specific direction then open up our phone camera to face us (and take a photo apparently). This gives us bonus points at the end of the game (if we survive).

Next up is a fake waterfall and log obstacle; we hear someone driving up behind us, but we don’t know who it is. We get moving. Thing is, remember how this world isn’t scary inherently? The waterfall and logs are like a blow up jump-house. The “waterfall” and logs are cylinder blow ups that we have to walk across as they are rotating, and as someone is following us. (even though it turns out to be a friend...maybe).

In between all this happening, like a little flash here and there interrupting the dream is some sequence with a man m*sturbating (note, he’s in strange colors, like there are lots of lights in the room dousing it in oranges, yellow, and blues). It’s also strange because it almost seems like the editing format for a TikTok video. I know, don’t ask, I don’t want to know either. At the very end (over the course of less than 5 seconds) is a woman doing the same with him? This part is fuzzy, I think because I deliberately wanted to forget it. This is the part that “scares” me the most. It sticks in my head like glue and gives such a distinct unsettling feeling in the pit of my stomach. Not just the feeling of watching something I shouldn’t be, but that something is very wrong with this scene.

The worst part about this all? I’m at least somewhat aware I’m dreaming. I can vividly feel in the dream that I am thinking of how this all looks familiar, and I’ve dreamt something similar before and that this is weird and I don’t like it (but can’t necessary do anything about it, ie not freaking out).

If anyone has crumbs to throw my way about feeling similar or having eccentric dreams that make no fucking sense leave a comment I guess.

[yikesitskennawrites]

Transitions- Chapter Twenty-Eight: Celebrating With Friends

Series Masterlist

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Pairings: Steven Grant x (platonic) Reader, Marc Spector x (platonic) Reader, Jake Lockley x (platonic) Reader, Layla El-Faouly x (platonic) Reader 

---

Tossing and turning in your sleep, the sheets were tangled around your legs and your eyelids twitched as a cry of fear left your lips. Sweat dotted your forehead and down your back with the struggle of trying to get out of your nightmare and wake into reality. The only thing that woke you was the gentle shake of your arm and the soft words of affirmation tumbling from the person laying next to you. Your eyes snap open and you take in the darkness of the room you laid in. The dream you had was something that you knew too well of and yet, as your chest rose and fell in quick patterns and your hands trembled, you thought it was more than a dream. You thought you were truly getting ambushed by Harrow's cult again and Marc ignoring your pleas for help. 

It was the same recurring nightmare you had since that night, you just haven’t had it  lately because you were too physically exhausted for the night terrors to occur. Unfortunately that wasn’t the case for this night. The only difference this time was that you were calling for Jake and Marc; and neither of them came to your rescue.

“Hola-” Jake says softly. “‘Hola- estás bien.” The hand resting on your arm removes itself. You blink away the sleep from your eyes as you catch your breath and roll onto your back. Your legs twisting awkwardly in the sheets with how tight the cloth is wrapped around them. The curtains weren’t closed all the way, moonlight filters in and brightens the room as clouds roll by in the night sky. With the light, you saw the features of your neighbor pushed up onto his side and giving a look that you can’t quite make out. Your fingers grip the covers as you try to shake away the memories of the nightmare. You felt guilty at waking them, you didn’t mean to let your night terrors get the best of you. This was the first night that you woke them since they came back. The last few days were chaotic at most. 

“Sorry I woke you.” You whisper into the flat. You try to relax your tense muscles, but all it seems to do is become tighter.

“It’s fine.” He grumbles. “I was going to go do some of Khonshus bidding anyways.” 

“Oh.” You reply. You swallow and stare at the popcorn ceiling. Slowly, you try to ground yourself by counting the small bumps that were visible enough for you to see in the dim light. 

“You scared ‘em.” He adds after a moment. “Thought someone was in the apartment and hurting you.” You release a shaky breath and guilt pools in your stomach. Oh fuck, they were worried about you? How loud were your cries that Jake had to be the one to front?

“I’m sorry.” You reply. “I didn’t mean to.” He doesn’t say anything and neither do you. You don’t know what to tell him. You felt like your apologies weren’t enough for them. Fucking hell, you scared them and you feel guilty for it.

“You want Steven?” He asks. The question surprised you. “He’s better at this than I am.”

“I thought you were going to go out and be the fist of vengeance for the night.”

“It’s four am.” He replies. “It would be for a couple of hours.”

“Is it really?” You ask. He hums in answer and you rub your eyes with the heels of your palms. Four in the morning and you had to be up at six. You knew that it was going to take you awhile to get back to sleep and as much as you knew that you needed to rest, you probably weren’t going to fall back asleep once Jake leaves. 

“I think I’ll be fine.” You tell him. You don’t want Marc or Steven to worry about you. You already felt terrible about the past few days and now months that it was clear to you that they noticed how horrible you are doing. You stare at the ceiling for a moment longer before adding, “I have to be at work by seven-thirty.” You need an alarm to wake you if you did fall back asleep whether it was by accident or on purpose.

“Marc is going to take you to work today.” He says. You scrunch your brows at him. You didn’t know that he was planning on taking you to work. They don’t have a car besides Jake's limo and you don’t want to show up to work in an extravagant vehicle. 

“With your limo?”

“No.” He says, “By the bus and walk you to the building.” You blink tiredly at that. It was like a forty minute ride for them to do that. Plus twenty minutes of walking, ten minutes to the building and ten minutes back to the bus stop. 

“He doesn’t have to do that.”

“Tell him that.” He says. You swallow and let silence settle back between you. They  were worried about you and even in your tired state, you recognize that. You felt terrible for them to be so anxious for you and your safety. It’s been like that far longer than you have been aware of Jake and it's just becoming more noticeable because of the shitty things over the past week. You wait for Jake to get up to begin his routine of being the fist of vengeance, but instead, he leans back against the headboard and stares into the living room. You tilt your head towards him, trying to see if his thoughts were visible on his face; but from the lower angle and the moonlight it was difficult to see make out. 

You move your arms onto your stomach and knit your fingers together as you shift your gaze back to the ceiling. Today is your birthday, you are officially seventeen and you still feel the same. Every year you become older and for some reason you expect to feel different, perhaps a little wiser but you don’t. You’re still the same person from the day before with the same knowledge and experience but just with the achievement that you lasted another three hundred and sixty five days. It was another birthday without your parents, the second one to be exact and this time you had people to be with just without the celebrations because they don’t know what day it is. You’re lying next to them at this moment and despite the nightmares and the guilt you couldn’t help but think about how much this was a better start to your day than this time last year.

Last year, you spent the day working on the brink of tears because it was your first birthday without your parents. The firsts were always the worst, it gets easier as it goes on but it doesn’t mean that it doesn’t hurt. You cried all afternoon on your couch and well into the evening and ate ramen for dinner. Today, you knew that it was going to be exhausting but a little easier than last year. You’ll have someone to come to after work and talk about your day and eat dinner with and maybe watch a movie to start your weekend. You’ll have a better day. Jake shifts next to you, swinging his leg over the edge of the mattress. You should take this opportunity to say thank you for what he has done before he leaves for his early morning job of protecting those who need it. 

As much as you don’t like to admit it, because of the rift between the two of you, he has been doing some kind things lately like taking care of you when you got beat up and getting your phone back. You never expected him to be this nice to you in a thousand years. You should tell him that you’re grateful for his recent actions just so he knows. You wait a moment longer for him to swing his right leg over the edge of the mattress and push himself to begin his morning routine, but he doesn’t. He instead rests his head against the headboard and lolls it towards the window. The curtains blow softly as if urging him to go out into the early morning. 

You swallow before you say, “I didn’t get to say thanks.” He doesn’t look at you, but his chest slowly deflates as a sigh leaves him.

“For what?” He asks and you find yourself fiddling with your fingers as you try to figure out how to tell him what you feel. Jake isn’t an open and accepting person, that was more of Stevens type of thing and you don’t like to talk about your feelings as much as you should. So, you were struggling on how to tell him that you were grateful for everything he has done this past weekend. You were grateful that he came back and didn’t die. For coming back and not leaving you alone. For killing the bitch before he could do more harm to others. For waking you from the recurring nightmare.

You don’t know how to form it into words and with the silence that seemed to feel like it was extending into miles you settle for, “Getting my phone.” There was a lot unsaid that you want to thank him for but, you don’t know how. So, you hope that he would read between the lines and find out how much you were grateful for.

“Steven would have wanted me to.” He says and you hum. It was true that Steven would have but with the way that he stated it sounds like Steven didn’t ask him to get it back at that point, yet he did it on his own accord. You decide not to press him about it, mainly because you’re too tired and because you’re sure it wouldn’t end well. Instead, you listen to the curtains ruffle together, you think the window is closed so the breeze will have to be blowing through the cracks of the pane. The clouds shift in front of the moon and temporarily darken the room before brightening once again when they’re no longer in the light's path. You wait for him to move off of the bed and go out into the early morning but he doesn’t move an inch. Your eyes trail over to him and he was still looking out the window. 

You don’t know if you’re going to be able to fall back asleep, but you do want to try and with the nightmare you don’t want to be alone. You bite your lip as the request to ask him to stay fills your mind, and instead of immediately throwing it out the window, you consider it. You want him to stay, for your own reassurance that there is someone when you wake and also because him staying meant they couldn’t be killed while doing Mr. Knight duties. Steven and Marc will be safe for longer if you convince him to stay. You shift on the mattress so you’re on your left side and facing him. You hope that the room will be dim enough to hide your embarrassment on your face if he were to look at you.

“Jake?” You ask. You peer up from him from where you lay as you listen to him inhale a breath. 

“Yeah?”

“Can you stay?” You ask and add a little quickly, “At least until I fall asleep.” You felt stupid for asking it. You felt like a little kid asking to stay in their parents room after a nightmare. Childish and embarrassing for your age of seventeen.

“I already was.” He replies and your breath gets caught in your throat. You didn’t expect that answer from him. “Are you going to try to sleep now or continue to stare at the ceiling?” How’d he know that you were staring at it without him looking at you? You were a little creeped out at that but you chalk it up to him being a perspective person. Your hand clutches the sheets, the fabric soft between your fingers as you close your eyes and try to relax your body so you could fall back asleep. But with every breath that leaves your body, it seems like it becomes harder and harder to relax. You turn onto your back to try to become more comfortable but the longer you struggle to fall asleep, it becomes more obvious that you weren’t going to get any more shut eye tonight. 

“You want to talk about it?” He asks. You nearly jump at the question as your eyes snap open and you were back to staring at the ceiling. You didn’t expect him to say anything, you thought he would just try to wait a little longer before leaving to save whoever needed to be saved. 

“About what?” You ask, your voice sounds loud to your own ears.

“Your dream.” He answers. You almost raise an eyebrow at that. Another thing you didn’t expect. You thought Steven would be the one to press you about the nightmare. You thought Jake would relinquish control and let Steven take over to comfort you. Yet, here the two of you are and Jake was still looking out the window while you spare a glance at him.

“You’re offering to have a conversation with me about it?” You ask. You were surprised that he was willing to listen to you. 

“Forget it.” He replies and slides off of the mattress. 

“Jake.” You say. “I was just surprised. I didn’t expect you to offer to listen.”

“No, it’s fine.” He waves you off as he stretches his arms and walks around the edge of the bed. “Steven or Marc will be here to wake you in a couple of hours.” Your gaze trails back to the ceiling and you listen to him as he puts on his shoes before unlocking the door and shutting it behind him. The bolts click in place and you’re left with the moonlight shining brightly onto you. Sleep didn’t come and you spent the next two hours staring at the moon, wishing for slumber to pull you under. 

---

The shift was long and tiring. You made good tips and had to deal with a couple of Karen's, especially the morning bunch. You hate serving the morning customers, sometimes they were nice but the majority of the time they were rude as fuck. Your feet ache and your back hurts, luckily, Marc was willing to give up his seat on the bus for you to rest your joints and nearly fall asleep with your head resting against the window. You had zero plans to celebrate the day of your birth besides resting on Stevens couch and watching some movie on Netflix. Your plan for the weekend was to go to the thrift stores since Marc promised you and browse for a new laptop and frames for the photos that were printed yesterday. 

All of your plans to relax were thrown out the window when Marc says, “Layla's coming over.” You pause in your steps. The two of you were walking up the stairwell since the elevator was still broken and you were beginning to form some shape to your calves.

“Why is she coming over?” You ask. You were happy to see her since it's been a few days but, you were a little weirded out that Marc would tell you about it. He usually kept this type of stuff to himself, but for some reason he decided to let you in on this. Perhaps they’re going to finally talk out their issues and Layla was calling him yesterday to get a hold of him to plan this out? He shrugs at your question and you internally roll your eyes. Typical. He wouldn’t tell you shit unless you press him for it. You continue to walk up the steps, passing the spot where you passed out and hit your head. The pool of blood is gone, the janitor must have cleaned it up which is great because if it was dried that would be gross.

You listen to Marc follow you up the steps to Stevens apartment. You dig your lanyard out of your pocket and jam the key into the lock before turning it and the handle. You push open the door and your breath catches in your throat at the sight before you. Directly across from the door and on the wall was the painting you made with Layla when she bought the art supplies a couple weeks ago. Next to it, in a small rectangular frame was a picture of you from when you were younger with a pink boa wrapped around your neck and a pair of cheap sunglasses on your face. 

“Is that my painting?” You ask and point at the canvas hung up on the wall. You kick off your shoes and take your coat off, hanging it on the rack next to the door before you walk closer to get a better look. You were a few feet away from it, standing next to the table and staring at the two items newly showing off for whoever was to first enter the apartment.

“Yeah,” Steven says. “I thought it would look nice hung up.” He pauses and you could feel his eyes on the back of your head. “Is it okay that we put it up? We can take it down if you’ll like.”

“It’s okay, Steven.” You say, “I just didn’t expect you guys to show it off.” Your eyes trail to the picture next to it. It was framed in a rustic golden color making it stand out a little better than the painting. You can’t believe that they went through with framing it, you thought they were just teasing you. You weren’t upset that they hung it up or weirded out, you were just pleasantly surprised. Now that you are thinking about it, your surprise today was always caused by these men since you woke up. You expected work to be long and terrible like it was today, but this, coming back to Stevens apartment and seeing the painting on the wall and Jake asking you if you wanted to talk about your nightmare was surprising and endearing.

You were a little bit in awe about the whole thing until you realized that the frame meant that they had to go to the thrift shop without you. Which meant that you had to tell them why you need to go to a thrift store or a used electronic store for a computer for school and you don’t want them to feel bad for you. You were planning to use the frames as a cover story so you wouldn’t have to tell them about the laptop and your need for one. Now you have to because there was no way that Marc and Steven would let you go out on your own since they were going to work and back with you. Your eyes trail to the table and land on the Ziploc baggie that contains the shredded pieces of the Eye of Horus. 

You can tell that the paper was dry and the inside of the bag was free of any condensation that was once in it. The remnants of your blood was dried into a dark red color almost like an over ripe cherry. Delicately, you pick it up and stare down at the paper. The ink has dried into a blurry mess of lines making most of it unreadable. Some words stood out but without them being in sentences, they didn’t make much sense to you. There was no reason for the man to tear this apart, why would he mug you and tear apart a piece of paper? He took his time scaring and beating the shit out of you before he took off with your phone. Did he read something on here that pissed him off? Or did he recognize how much this parchment meant to you and wanted to take it from you for the simple act of revenge? You did beg him not to take your phone so maybe he just wanted to destroy you like Marc did to him back in June. 

“You should throw that away.” Marc says. “It’s unsanitary.”

“Throw what?” You ask. 

“The bag that you're holding?” He says. You didn’t remove your eyes from the object. You know that you should toss it out because it's gross to keep, but it meant a little too much to let go. “Are you okay?”

“I can’t throw it away.” You say. “Steven gave this to me.” He doesn’t say anything for a moment, the silence is deafening and you concentrate a little harder on the plastic in your hand.

“It’s a piece of paper-”

“No it’s not.” You cut him off. “It’s not just a piece of paper, Marc. What if this is the last thing I’ll ever have left of you guys? What if Jake doesn’t come back from a mission? What if there’s another snap and this time you’re actually gone and there’s no Tony Stark to save us?” You huff out a breath. “It’s not just a fucking piece of paper I can throw away.” Your heart beats loudly in your ears. You didn’t mean to lash out at him like that but hot damn you don’t want to give this paper up. 

“I can make you a new one.” Steven offers. “I can tear the page out in the book for you if you’ll like.”

“It’s not like the one you gave me first.” You mumble. “Besides, I don’t want you to ruin your book for me.” You set the bag onto the table and smooth out the crinkles with your palm before you pull out the chair next to you and sit in it.

“I can trace it or make a new one entirely for you.” He says and crosses the few feet between you before he crouches in front of you. “I didn’t know how much it meant to you.”

“You don’t have to-”

“I want to.” He cuts you off. You lean back into the chair and cross your arms over your chest.

“I’m sorry, Steven,” You say. “I’m sorry that it’s ruined.”

“It’s not your fault.” He reassures you and his kindness makes you feel worse. The apartment door opens and it causes you to look up and Steven to stand from his crouched position. A mop of curls enters the flat, a dazzling smile rests on Layla's face as she shuts the door behind her. She carries a polka dot bag with green and white tissue paper sticking out of it. 

“Am I interrupting something?” She asks as she crosses the threshold and places the bag onto the table. You shake your head as she sets her keys onto the table next to the bag. 

“Happy birthday, kiddo,” She greets you and opens her arms for a hug. Your mouth parts open in surprise. 

“How’d you know?” You ask. You haven’t told her or the men that it was your birthday. How did they find out? Marc slides over the blue folder across the surface of the table, disrupting the pieces of scattered paper. Your eyes land on the folder and your lips gently press back together. The folder was the same one that contains all of your history that he gathered to present you with a couple of months ago. 

“Oh,” You breathe out. 

“Happy birthday, kid.” He replies. “Seventeen years old, huh? You feel any older?” You gently shake your head. 

“Is this why you were calling yesterday?” You ask Layla. “Because of my birthday?”

“Well, I wanted to see the birthday kid on their special day and I sent you some birthday messages you have yet to read. I have read receipts on- and what’s with that look?” Your eyes meet Marcs. He hasn’t told her shit about that last few days, typical. He releases a slow breath and explains to her what happened and with every passing word that comes out of his mouth, a look of horror forms on her features. 

“And why didn’t you tell me this when it happened?” She asks as she glares at him. 

“Because I was busy taking care of the kid.” He defends himself. “Jake went out and killed the guy so you don’t have to worry about it.” She huffs out a breath and softens her eyes when she looks at you. 

“Are you alright?” She asks. You nod and try to shoot her a reassuring smile but it feels like it comes out more like a grimace. 

“I’m okay.” You tell her and she frowns at you. You can see her resolve melting off of her features as a sigh leaves her. She wasn’t going to force you to tell her how you really feel, you know that. 

“Here,” She says instead. She grabs the handle of the bag and plops it into your lap. You shoot her a look. “Open it.” She smiles. Marc momentarily disappears from your sight as you focus on the gift placed in your lap. You pull out the tissue paper, letting it drop to the ground before you pull out a small rectangular box. The soft box felt like a lush pillow and it was the color of a deep blue. Your eyes trail away from the box and to the person who was gifting it to you. A unsure look was on your face and she shot you a reassuring smile. 

“Go on,” She encourages. Man, you hope this isn’t too expensive. You take the lid off and smile at the sight of a light blue and brown leather bracelet. It looked like one from those gift shops you traveled to when you were avoiding Marc and Steven a couple months ago. 

“Thank you.” You breathe out, a genuine smile passing over your face. 

“We got matching bracelets.” Layla says and grins as she holds up her left arm and sure enough, it was tied around her wrist. You felt your smile widen before you registered what you were doing and the question of asking her to tie the bracelet around your wrist falls from your lips. She gladly ties it and you finally catch up with what happened in the past minute as soon as the strings were knotted together. You promise to yourself that you would never take it off unless you absolutely had to. 

“There's more.” She gestures to the bag and you glance at it. You could feel something weighing down on your legs and you direct your curious gaze to Layla. “We can sit here all night if we need to but you are opening it up.” You reach into the bag and remove the remaining green tissue and your breath gets caught in your throat as you pull out a box with a picture of a laptop. Holy shit, she bought you a brand new laptop. 

“I can’t take this.” You say. You give her a pleading look as she blinks at you innocently. 

“The bracelet?”

“Layla.” You groan. “I can’t take the laptop. It’s too expensive.”

“I can’t take it back, I lost the receipt.”

“You lost the receipt?” You say incredulously. “You’re fucking lying.”

“Okay, well, I am.” She shrugs. “Listen, look at it this way, this will help your education and I’m just pitching in by helping you.”

“Layla-”

“And,” She cuts you off. “And you need a good one, especially since your old one got destroyed by a god being a bitch.” She pauses and you stare at the box. It was a new laptop, it looked like it was roughly three hundred to four hundred dollars because of how small it was. It didn’t have that Apple logo on it so it wasn’t that expensive compared to the thousands of dollars worth of technology they try to sell. 

“You do need this.” She says and your name falls softly from her lips. “You need a win and you deserve to have this after the past week, so please allow yourself to take this.” You bite your lip and you gently nod. 

“Thank you,” You croak out and she reaches forward and cups your cheek with her palm, tilting your head slightly back so you could see her better. Her thumb rubs gently back and forth on your skin and nothing else needed to be said between the two of you, that gesture was enough. She steps back with a caring and kind smile on her face as Marc hands you a thick yet small rectangular box with a crinkled red bow tie smacked onto the top of it. 

“What’s this?” You ask as you remove the bag from your lap and place the computer onto the table next to you. 

“Go ahead and open it.” He answers. You remove the bow and read the surface of the box, it was a Samsung phone, one of the newer ones that came out within the last couple of years. Your mouth parts and you whip your head to look at Marc. 

“What the fuck.” You say. 

“It’s already paid for, Steven and I both pitched in halves for this and it's on a family plan so you don’t have to worry about monthly bills.” A family plan? You don’t consider the three of you to be that close and from what you know about Marc he doesn’t either. So it must have been cheaper for him to put you on a plan with him than it would be for singles. You felt more comfortable coming to that conclusion than anything else so you don’t question it and push him about it.

“I’ll pay both of you back.” You promise.

“The fuck you will.” He replies. “It’s a gift, you don’t pay people back.” 

“Here, dove.” Steven says, you watch the shift between the two of them as he hands you a small rectangular square wrapped in parchment. It felt thin and light in your hands. You set the phone onto the table and peel back the parchment paper to reveal a light blue case with a cd sealed inside. On the cover was your name written in sharpie across the front of it with “From Steven,” written below it.

“You asked me to make you a playlist of songs that we like and I don’t know how to make one on one of those music apps so I burnt some onto a cd for you.” He says. You swear that your gaze softens as your eyes land on him. “I know that you don’t have a Cd player-”

“Actually, you’re wrong.” Layla says. “Kiddo has one on their laptop.”

“We can still listen to it together, Steven.” You say. “I’ll move the songs onto Spotify so we could both listen to it and add other songs that we both like.” He smiles at that and you swear that your heart softens along with your gaze at these gestures from the three of them.

“Thank you so much,” You add and he smiles sheepishly. 

“There’s one more gift.” He says and walks around the edge of the table before lifting up a larger rectangular box. It didn’t have any wrapping paper or a bow on it, so it clearly showed what it was. Your breath catches in your throat as you register the picture on the box and the name of it. 

“A telescope.” You say. “No fucking way.” 

“Jake got this for you this morning after Marc walked you to work.” He says, “He feels bad but doesn’t want to admit it.” Your fingers brush against the box in awe. You always wanted a telescope but could never afford a good one. Now you had one and as much as you wanted to tell them that you’ll pay them back for their generosity today, you know that they would just tell you not to. So, you internally promise to repay them back down the road somehow. 

“I made cake, we can have some after dinner.” Steven says. 

“Oh my god, cake.” You say. 

“It’s chocolate.” He adds and you groan in response. You don’t know how you’re going to pay them back for their kindness but you will. “Go get into something comfortable while I start dinner.” You stand up and envelope Layla into your arms before letting go and hugging Steven. 

“Thank you so much.” You say. “I can’t tell you how much this means to me.” You let go of Steven and jog to the door and slip your shoes back on before heading to your apartment. You still struggled with getting your key into the lock but once you did, you turned the handle and nearly cried at the sight on the wall before you. Photos of your parents were in frames decorated the wall and hung securely. You owe them too much for their kindness, don’t you? Your nose stings as the door shuts behind you and you approach the frames. Your parents smile back at you as if they were telling you happy birthday. 

---

The walk back to Stevens apartment was slow, you were an emotional wreck from today. You have been for the past few days, but today was a good type of wreck. You try to gather yourself so they don’t become concerned for the happy tears you just cried. You take a deep breath and turn the handle to enter Stevens flat, the sound of soft music fills your ears and Layla's laughter sounds joyous. You find yourself smiling at the sight before you. Marc sat across from Layla, a dumb smile on his own face from some joke he just told and a happy grin was on Layla's. As much as you wish that they didn’t lie to you about being divorced, you couldn’t help but hope that they were mending their relationship. 

“Table thief,” Marc says. “You want to go up to the rooftop later with your telescope?” 

“Did you just call the kid table theif?” Layla grins at him and he laughs a little. 

“I didn’t mean to steal a table.” You groan out. “But yeah, I do.” You shut the door behind you as you cross the threshold and slide into the chair next to Layla. You open the phone box to begin to set it up as Marc stands to go to the kitchen and Layla gently talks to you about your day. You spent most of the evening chatting with them and laughing, downloading the Spotify app and listening to Marc, Steven, and Layla tell you songs to add to the playlist or songs that you don’t recognize on the cd the four of you were listening to. You added songs that you thought they would enjoy to the list too. Part of you wishes that Jake was listening to it too in one reflection or another. You had their numbers saved to your phone and on Monday you’ll ask for Laurens, but for now you had four numbers saved into the contacts. You sent the link for the playlist to Laylas and Stevens phone, you would have for Marcs but he didn’t have the type of phone that allowed him to have any music app on it.

When it came to singing Happy Birthday, it was awkward sitting and them singing it to you. To be fair it was always awkward having a group of people sing you the song while a cake was on fire with candles sticking out of it. The cake was delicious and you repeatedly thanked Steven for making it. The time that you were most excited for finally came just two hours after the sunset. Layla washed dishes as Marc took your telescope out of the box and read the instructions with you lingering over his shoulder. You tried not to bother him but you were just so damn excited for this moment and you want to learn how to use the scope too. It wasn’t until Layla finished the dishes and Marc was somewhat satisfied that he understood the instructions that the four of you made your way out of the apartment and up the stairs to the sixth floor. You bounce on your heels as you hold open the door for Marc and Layla to pass through so you could begin your ascent to the rooftop. 

And, as always, the stars were beautiful. The night sky was full of them, you thought that it would be a cloudy night. Now that you were thinking about it, you were sure that the forecast said it would be an overcast night. But, you weren’t going to complain when all the stars seemed to be shining brightly just for you. Marc sets the telescope on the gravel of the roof-top and Layla holds her phone flashlight out for him so he could set it up. You grin at the constellation of the Big Dipper, you swear that you’re never going to become bored of seeing these beautiful stars. 

“Y’know,” You say as you feel the weight of the past week seem to melt from you and you could finally somewhat relax. “The stars were here before us. These are the same stars that the Aztecs and Neanderthals saw and they will remain after us. We are only a moment in time.” You felt peaceful as the statement fell from your lips. Marc pauses in his actions and even Layla directs her flashlight to you. You could feel the concern wafting off of them. You lift up your hand to block the shining light as you turn your attention to them.

“Are you okay?” Marc asks. “That was a little deep for a seventeen years old's birthday.”

“I’m great.” You laugh, “I call dibs on being the first to use the telescope.”

“As the birthday kid wishes.” He says and gestures to it. “Go ahead, kid. Knock yourself out.” You grin as you approach the scope and peer down into the lens. It took awhile to adjust it so it’s not completely blurry and out of focus, but once you get that working correctly, you couldn’t help but want to hug Jake for buying this for you. The sight of the stars being slightly bigger than you were used to with the naked eye was amazing and breathtaking. Your grin becomes wider and it feels truly genuine as you breathe out a laugh. You listen to the city traffic below and Marc and Layla chat quietly as if they didn’t want to interrupt you and your amazement. The sound of Layla's laughter causes you to spare a glance at them. Marc was genuinely smiling at his wife, you don’t think he ever smiled like this around you. So, before you embarrass him with your own happiness for them, you return your attention to the telescope and the stars above you. Today was a good day.

—

The playlist you, Marc, Steven, and Layla made: Happy Birthday

---

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[potatoobsessed999]

I want to aaaa about my take on this snippet from LotR:

“Do you wish then,” said Faramir, “that our places had been exchanged?”

“Yes, I wish that indeed,” said Denethor. “For Boromir was loyal to me and no wizard’s pupil.”

Because it makes me have EMOTIONS.

And first I’m gonna talk about the whole scene, because that makes me have emotions too. Under the cut for length. (And it’s probably unnecessary even to state it considering this is Denethor and Faramir we’re talking about, but CW for discussion of a toxic parent-child relationship.)

Before I went to look up the exact wording I was misremembering this as an openly emotional argument. But it’s not one, at least not on Faramir’s part; throughout this whole scene he’s speaking quietly, being very formal, deferring to Denethor as his superior in rank. Denethor also speaks formally, but he seems a bit more emotionally expressive - there are exclamation points in his dialogue; at one point it says “his eyes flashed suddenly”; a couple lines of his get “cried” as a dialogue tag, while Faramir only gets “said”. I get the sense he’s irritated with Faramir for being so very professionally distant, that he feels like it’s a power play, and he’s being forceful in his speech to try to get through to Faramir because he doesn’t think Faramir much cares what he has to say.

Meanwhile I think Faramir absolutely cares, but is maintaining his cool demeanor as a defense mechanism. Denethor starts criticizing him pretty strongly in this scene, with very minimal provocation in the moment (he’s reminded of past grievances with Faramir and gets upset about those, even though, in context, the question that set him off – “I hope that I have not done ill?” – had little to do with those grievances at all). If this is a recurring pattern with them – and I think it’s likely to be one – then, well, if Faramir keeps his speech perfectly professional and deferential, at least he knows Denethor can’t seize on that to criticize.

ANYWAY that’s the context for this particular exchange. Faramir says “Do you wish then that our places had been exchanged?” in this very restrained manner, and Denethor responds maybe with a bit more open emotion, but I think he’s also maintaining a fairly professional tone, trying to keep this from becoming still less of a tactical discussion and more of a family spat. (Gandalf and Pippin are right there, after all.) But the thing is, I can absolutely see them shouting these exact same lines at each other - because maintaining a facade of coolness really hasn’t changed anything at all. All the emotions are still there under the surface.

And what gets me about this snippet is the sheer intensity of the emotion there, the way they’re both not quite saying what they mean, and both resenting the other person for not understanding them anyway. Faramir’s line implies the question the film makes explicit: “That I had died and Boromir had lived?” But book!Faramir never says that outright; on the surface, he’s just asking whether his dad wishes Boromir had been in Ithilien and Faramir with the Fellowship. Denethor answers, “Yes, I wish that indeed,” and then we break for a “said Denethor” before he continues to speak. To me this implies that Denethor himself pauses slightly before speaking again - that’s how the reader inevitably experiences the dialogue, after all.

So Denethor immediately answers yes to the surface question - and then he realizes what he’s implied. And it takes him aback, and he hesitates, but only for a moment, because he can’t just retract his words – if he does that, the balance of power in the argument shifts to Faramir. (And seeing as this argument is about, among many other things, what it is and is not acceptable to do if the alternative might be Sauron conquering Gondor, Denethor is not eager to give up any ground.) So he clarifies, trying to justify his words to himself as well as to Faramir: “For Boromir was loyal to me and no wizard’s pupil.” AKA – that’s why I said that, I had a practical reason, I wasn’t saying I wish Faramir was dead at all, and I don’t need to backtrack because I am not in the wrong.

And now here we have Faramir, who has just asked his father “Oh, so would you rather it was me who was dead then? Since Boromir was so much better?” disguised as “Do you wish you’d made a different decision regarding which mission to assign to which military officer?” And his father has answered yes, and then hesitated realizing what he’s said, and then doubled down.

It really, really doesn’t surprise me that the following line is “For a moment Faramir’s restraint gave way.”

[missmentelle]

What makes a codependent relationship? Is it healthy for someone to rely on you as a constant source for support, talking all the time? Getting seperation anxiety and experiencing extreme stress when they are without you? Is it selfish to not necessarily reciprocate that stress?

Let's start by defining what a codependent relationship is.

In a codependent relationship, one person (the codependent) consistently enables the dysfunction of another person, often assuming a "caretaker" or "protector" role. The dysfunctional person usually struggles with a serious issue that may make it difficult for them to function on their own - often addiction, mental illness, or serious underachievement/irresponsibility - and the codependent partner will make extreme personal sacrifices to take care of this person and shield them from the consequences of their actions.

Codependent relationships aren't always romantic relationships - they can be found between friends, parents/children, coworkers, other family members, or any other type of relationship. Wherever they exist, are very unhealthy for both of the people involved in them. The codependent person focuses so heavily on the dependent person's needs that they entirely neglect their own, while the dysfunctional person is enabled to continue being dysfunctional and is often prevented from making any kind of progress toward recovery.

Common traits of codependent people include:

a fear of being alone. They often seek out relationships with people who will depend on them and encourage that dependency to ensure that the other person will not leave them.

extreme fixation on the feelings and needs of others. They often view their own needs as unimportant or secondary and prioritize the needs of others, even when this has not been asked of them.

a compulsive need to "fix" the problems of others. when they see a person who is struggling, they feel the overwhelming need to step in and start "fixing" the situation, even if doing so is not their responsibility.

low self-esteem. They often have chronic issues with self-esteem, and don't feel that they "deserve" to have their own needs prioritized. Their self-esteem is often tied to their ability to maintain their caretaking role at all costs, even when it is incredibly harmful to them.

controlling and perfectionist tendencies. Codependent people often struggle to cope when they don't have high amounts of control in their relationships, or when things aren't done "just so". They gravitate towards caretaking roles where they have high amounts of control, and struggle to let go.

external locus of control. They often feel powerless in their lives, and feel that they simply have to accept their circumstances and the way that others treat them.

high capacity for denial. They often cannot or will not see problems that are right in front of them, and refuse to acknowledge the seriousness of a situation - the house will be burning down around them and they'll refuse to even admit that it's getting a little warm.

a history of interpersonal trauma or abuse. Codependency is often a learned behaviour - many people who fall into these patterns experienced codependency from their parents, or witnessed their parents' codependent relationship at a young age. Many have also experienced extreme emotional abuse, from their parents or a past partner.

a strong need for approval. Codependents need to be liked. They need approval. Doing things for others and letting others walk on them is the best way they know how to gain that.

boundary issues. They often cannot and do not set personal boundaries - they take a "Giving Tree" approach to helping others, endlessly giving even when it seriously hurts them. At the same time, they may overstep boundaries to try to fix others' issues, even when it is not their responsibility to get involved.

a lack of personal identity. The codependent relationship often becomes the focus of their whole life. They invest so much time and energy into it that without it, they wouldn't know what to do with themselves.

a tendency to be drawn to close relationships with substance addicts, alcoholics, people with personality disorders, or other codependents. Codependent relationships are usually not a one-off thing - they tend to be a recurring pattern in a person's life. In particular, people with untreated BPD often seek out relationships with codependent people, as they tend to prefer relationships with people who don't set personal boundaries and are willing to provide the extreme amounts of reassurance and caretaking that they need. People with BPD also tend to be codependent themselves, further complicating things.

an appearance of being "addicted to chaos". Codependent people often appear to gravitate toward drama, dysfunction and chaos. Having relationships with people who have healthy boundaries, autonomy and stable personal lives often holds little interest for them - they prefer relationships where they feel needed and depended upon.

Codependent people often have a "martyr" or "victim" complex - they often feel that it is their lot in life to suffer for others, that self-sacrifice is a key part of their identity, or that suffering is simply a part of loving someone. The idea that they should set expectations in a relationship, leave a relationship where they aren't treated well or have an identity of their own outside a relationship is something they struggle with. They often hop from codependent relationship to codependent relationship, becoming steadily more beaten down and burnt out in the process - breaking free from codependent tendencies can be a long process, and often requires professional help.

There is a lot of variety in what codependent relationships look like. Some examples of codependency in action would include:

A mother allows her chronically unemployed and irresponsible 38-year-old son to live with her, and does everything for him. She never confronts her son about the fact that he doesn't contribute financially or help out around the house, even though it's placing a great financial and personal strain on her. When other family members ask why her adult son isn't taking steps to get his life together, the mother becomes highly defensive, and may make up lies about the progress he's made, or insist that he's still young and that this is normal for his age.

A woman assumes the role of "caregiver" for her unstable and very mentally ill partner. She bends over backwards to keep her partner happy, and doesn't seem to notice or mind that her partner never does the same thing in return. Her partner constantly burns bridges with their own family or friends with their explosive anger, and she rushes in to make excuses and try to fix the situation. When friends raise concerns about the relationship, she brushes them off, insisting that she's happy and everything is fine.

The parent of an autistic teenager infantilizes their autistic child, and insists that the child needs much more care than they actually do. Being an "autism parent" is a huge part of their identity. The child has never been allowed to attend an overnight camp, go for sleepovers or stay at home with a babysitter, as the parent is highly fearful and believes that other people will not look after their child properly. The parent strongly resists all of their child's attempts to gain more independence, insisting that it's too dangerous or that the child cannot handle it.

The US version of the television show Shameless is almost entirely centered around codependent relationships. The main characters are all in codependent relationships with their alcoholic and dysfunctional father, Frank. Although the main characters are often angry with their father, they constantly allow him back into their lives no matter how horribly he treats them - at times, they give him money, provide him with alcohol, let him move back into their house, visit him in the hospital and cover him with a blanket when he passes out on the floor. The boundaries they set with him never last long, and they always resume having a relationship with him, even after he does things that most people would find unforgivable.

So with that said: is it healthy for someone to rely on you as a constant source of support?

It sort of depends.

Relationships are supposed to be a reliable source of support for both of the people in them. That's sort of what they're for. I worry sometimes that the internet is making us too transactional in our relationships, and too quick to think that someone is taking advantage of us if they constantly turn to us for support. It's normal to find comfort in your relationships, and to turn to your loved ones whenever you need someone to talk to. I talk to my partner, my parents and my closest friends every day - that often means mentioning things that we’re stressed or anxious about, or venting about problems in our lives. Sometimes people are going through something and need extra support for a while - that’s just a normal part of close relationships. 

With that said, there are times when someone leans on you too hard. If helping someone is starting to take a serious toll on your own life, that’s a problem. Every relationship needs boundaries; if your boundaries are consistently pushed or broken in the name of supporting that person, it may be time for a serious talk. Staying up until 4am to talk someone through a crisis is fine if this is a rare occurrence. Staying up until 4am to talk someone through a crisis multiple times per week, every single week, is an issue - that’s you sacrificing your own need for sleep, and something needs to change. Are you willing to set boundaries and balance your own needs with your friends’ needs? Is the other person willing to respect boundaries, or do they lash out with anger, guilt-trips, accusations of not caring for them or threats to harm themselves? 

If you and a friend are both willing to communicate and work on establishing boundaries, I think it’s fine for one person to need a lot of support. If the relationship is damaging for you and one or both of you just isn’t able or willing to discuss boundaries, that’s a sign there could be some codependence going on. 

A person experiencing separation anxiety and extreme stress when you aren’t around could be an issue - but again, it depends on how it’s being handled. Is your friend able to cope with this anxiety on their own, or are they constantly putting this anxiety on you? Are they blowing up your phone and getting anxious if you’re 10 minutes late answering a text? Do they ever try to guilt-trip you or blame you for triggering their separation anxiety? Do they accuse you of not caring about them if you try to take time for yourself? Are they jealous of your other relationships? Is their extreme stress taking a toll on your life and preventing you from having other relationships or having personal boundaries and space? If your friend is willing to work on boundaries and find healthy coping mechanisms for their stress, this might be something you can overcome. If your friend is burning you out and one or both of you is unable to set boundaries, this might be a very unhealthy situation. 

Not feeling the same stress and anxiety, however, is definitely not selfish. It’s not healthy for someone to feel that level of extreme stress and separation anxiety - it’s not your friend’s fault that they experience that, but it’s still very unhealthy. The fact that someone feels an unhealthy attachment to you does not mean that you should feel an unhealthy attachment right back. No one benefits from that. In any healthy relationship, both people have a life and identity outside the relationship. This is, fundamentally, the issue at the core of many different unhealthy relationships - whether they are codependent, enmeshed, or abusive.

 Being so attached to someone that you can’t handle them needing friends, hobbies, space and independence isn’t a compliment or something to aspire to - it’s just unhealthy.

Hope this answers your question! MM

[bookofmirth]

Keeping reaching out your hand

To preface, this is an elucien, nessian, feysand, and somewhat gwynriel post. Move along if you don’t want to read content in support of all of them.

In acosf one of the most important, recurring themes was the phrase “keep reaching out your hand”. Amren said it first, in chapter 7 in a flashback of a conversation with Cassian. He then thinks about it the following chapter when Nesta tries to make it down the stairs the first time and they snap at each other.

Cassian keeps repeating this phrase to himself until he’s ready to snap and thinks, on page 128 that “keep reaching out your hand was utter bullshit when the person it was extended to could bite hard enough to rip off fingers.”

This phrase is important not only because it serves as motivation for Cassian to keep trying, to not give up on Nesta, but because we can see how others around her either do or don’t try. Does she push them away enough so that they give up and retract? How many hands have been extended to her only to be pulled away when she rejected them time and time again?

As acosf goes, Cassian thinks of the phrase less and less. On page 197, he passes the phrase on to Nesta after she is disappointed that no one has signed up for training. She reached out, and was rejected. Cassian is telling her not to give up. It takes a while for the anyone to sign up, and Nesta repeats the phrase to herself after days have passed, and wonders, “what would it matter [...] if no one bothered to reach back?”

The phrase is phased out of the book at that point because Nesta understands. Feyre had extended her hand to Nesta countless times, Cassian did as well, and now she knows what it feels like to extend a hand and have it refused. She saw the way that Mor is treated by Clotho and everyone else, and can realize that Mor had also been extending her hand (though it was tempered with wariness for Cassian). Amren is the opposite of this, which is ironic since the phrase originated with her. However, she has much less stake in this. Amren knows that the real work has to happen between Nesta, Feyre, Elain, and Cassian, and that other relationships are secondary, so she bows out (with some damn good advice, even if we dislike her).

Eventually the work of holding out one’s hand transfers from Cassian to Nesta as their relationship grows and she stop rejects his help. She then starts doing the work of extending her hand to others, and in that she can empathize with what others have experienced trying to reach out to her, and she can understand the hard work it is to continue trying, to keep being optimistic in spite of disappointment and the fear that no one will accept her help.

Rhys did something similar to Cassian in acotar and acomaf. He had more information than Feyre but he knew that she wasn’t able or willing to deal with it (see: the bond). She was low, and needed someone to help her up, which was the opposite of what Tamlin was capable of doing. It had to be her choice to take Rhys’s hand and leave the Spring Court, her choice to allow him to help her find a place in the Night Court, and her choice to continue taking his extended hand even when she had nightmares and felt guilt over leaving Tamlin and tried to grapple with what she had done in acotar. Feyre rejected him so many times, often reluctantly accepting his assistance, until she realized how valuable it was.

What is Lucien doing, if not reaching out his hand? Not only to Elain, but to Tamlin. He has proven himself the sort of person who can, and will, continue reaching out his hand to help and connect with people who may not realize they need it. We’ve seen countless examples of characters who have tried to connect and then given up. Amren and Mor (temporarily) give up on Nesta and she has to count on others not to give up on her - although she might not realize it at the time. With Lucien, he continues putting up with Tamlin, despite Tamlin’s refusal to accept help. Hell, Rhys even does the same in acofas. It might have been for political reasons, but overall the idea that we don’t give up on other people, that we offer them help when they are down, is central to the story.

Lucien going to Elain and offering gifts has nothing to do with entitlement. It’s his way, maybe the only way he has, of letting her know that he is there to keep reaching out his hand, for whenever she wants to accept it. Accepting his hand isn’t even necessarily romantic. He’s just letting her know that he is there, he waits for a sign, and then he leaves if she doesn’t look willing. It’s the same thing that Rhys did for Feyre in acomaf, and the same thing that Cassian did for Nesta in acowar through acosf. 

It shows Lucien’s character (in the sense of how good a person he is, not character development) that he is willing to keep trying, though he is never accepted, and that he is willing to do this with his friend and his mate alike.

Now, with Gwyn and Az, I’m not sure how/if this pattern could pan out. I can see it being more of a mutual push/pull because they both need to resolve issues from the past, but they also seem to be mutually supportive of one another. Azriel treats Gwyn differently than he treats many of the women he is around. Personally, I think it could be interesting to see him extend his hand to her not because he thinks it’s his job and the thing he is supposed to do, but because he realizes that he can have worth outside of his physical and magic abilities. If he can be emotional support for someone, that will give him the space to be intimate in a way that he typically avoids.

Sometimes, people are worth waiting for. Sometimes, they need that hand to be held out and they don’t know when they will accept it. But that’s when you know that someone is in it for the long haul - when they are willing to put in the effort of waiting until that hand is accepted.

[sneezefiction]

please don’t go

Ushijima x Reader - Scenario

@moonlightaangel‘s event request: “congrats on reaching 600 followers!! 🥰 can i request ‘please don’t go’ with ushijima, if it hasn’t been requested yet! i need some angsty feelings in my life”

a/n: mmmm angsty Ushijima is my aesthetic :,,)) i also messed around with some flashback formatting, so i hope you enjoy!!

warnings: angst, breakups

wc: 1640

---

“Please don’t go.” It’s a soft, tearful whisper.

“I thought you would understand, y/n. We had established this.” His reply was blunt. Like a dull knife to the chest, digging deeply only to pull right back out, leaving you gushing and writhing at his words.

“Please don’t.” Your cry reached his ears this time.

“I need to focus.” He sighs, twinging with guilt. 

Why didn’t you understand? Had you not known that his career would come first? Above everything else?

Or had he misspoken at some point, giving you the false assurance that this relationship would work forever? That he could always treat you as though it were possible to balance both you and his life’s work.

“Then I won’t distract you! Just don’t leave me. Please.” You begged, knees painfully falling to the cold floor, but your cries fell on deaf ears. 

He remains resistant to change. Without accommodations. Nothing left to give or take.

“Maybe someday, y/n. But this isn’t working out for me anymore. I have to leave for now.” Ushijima’s response is icy. 

He meant for those words to somehow be heartening. Promising, even. That maybe this was just the wrong time and place for a relationship. Where time could ebb and flow and someday he would be able to draw you back into his life.

Yes, there would be a day where you could take priority.

Because he wanted you… but not above his first love. Not above his skills and lifestyle. Not enough.

Volleyball comes first. Plain and simple.

And for that, he wouldn’t compromise.

---

White, crisp linens and fresh lemony scents.

Fluffed pillows fitted with new covers and soft patterns. Feather filled duvets. Curtains drawn to keep out the early morning light. 

Everything has stayed clean, clear, and Pristine. Even the dust particles, dancing around the room, have always seemed to find their own peace, settling mildly in gentle formations.

You sleepily blink open your eyes, rustling your arms over the bedspread to what should be a happier sight. Soft pillows hugging your sides, the gentle birdsong outside your window, a conceivably delicious cup of coffee to be made in the kitchen.

Yes, you should be filled with contentment. You were safe. Physically you were fine, and nothing was on your checklist for today.

In fact, things had appeared fine for months now...

Yet all you notice is who’s missing.

There’s no longer a delicate divet where his dozing head used to lay. The scent and shape of the pillow had only recently dissipated thanks to your citrusy laundry detergent and the slow passing of time.

You don’t awaken to a recently showered, olive-green eyed boyfriend. You could still picture the water droplets, hanging freshly on the tips of his tufts of hair. How the towel draped around his neck, over his shoulders, catching the drips and drops as they fell.

That warm smile he shared with you before placing a chaste kiss upon your forehead, caressing the side of your face. It was pure. You can almost feel the ghost of his lips. Still lingering. Mocking you.

You were liberated from his presence… but you never wanted to be.

Being absorbed in his chaotic life had kept you busy, but you had never minded it. There was never a doubt in your mind that volleyball would be his first priority. That he would follow his passions. His plans. His abilities.

You just wanted to tag along. To sincerely celebrate his victories and mourn his losses. Supporting him and holding onto him when he needed it. Yes, he got home late at night, left early in the morning, and only connected with you on his very few off days… but you cherished every second of it.

Because you loved him. You poured your soul into watching him flourish and thrive. It made you feel whole.

However, eventually, to Ushijima, you started to rival volleyball, becoming a distraction. He had made space for you in his already complicated life. And at first, it was a welcome change. A breath of fresh air to his methodical and planned out character. You were complex, bringing new perspective and sunshine into his typically boring apartment. Beautiful in a natural, yet eye-catching way. Furthermore, you somehow knew how to keep up with his hectic pace along with his gruff personality. 

In every aspect, you were perfect.

Expect one.

You were a diversion from the life he had in mind.

And even though you never pushed him to give you more… he longed to give you more of his attention. More time. To share his success with you. To love you deeper. To give you what you deserved. Because you are a profound being… and it burdened him to have to choose between his two greatest desires.

But, as most things do, these thoughts of love and devotion go unspoken, coming out all wrong. Mangled, unemotional, and misrepresented. Looking back, Ushijima wishes he’d been able to express it to you with empathy. To erase the tears that followed his brutal narrative. But softness isn’t his strong suit… and he needed you to know that, as powerful as he was, he wasn’t strong enough to balance you and volleyball.

---

“Ushijima, if you leave…” You take a deep breath, tears slipping down your face, “... you have to promise me you’ll never come back.” You choke out, your request came out in a sobering snarl.

For a moment, you question your own words- but your dignity was on the line.

“You can’t just break up with me and expect me to be there when you get back. I’m not disposable, you know?”

His body goes rigid. He hadn’t meant it that way.

You meant more to him than words could express… so why couldn’t he get it out clearly enough? How could he make you understand the gravity of his choices?

“...Y/n, it doesn’t have to be like that. I just need to concentrate right now.” The alarm, though subtle, shines in his eyes.

His usually composed, confident figure began to show cracks of uncertainty. He didn’t want you out of his life… Not at all.

He just needs you out of his mind for the time being. Just until he had things settled. You could come back at some point and he could love you so well. Just the way it was supposed to be.

But clearly he’d struck a deeper chord. He’d selfishly assumed you would wait for him. You weren’t some prized pony.

You’re a person. Someone with worth, plans, and dreams, just like him. He’d failed to acknowledge just how demeaning the truth of his actions were. But it’s too late.

You haven’t replied and the pain is etched intricately across your face.

“Okay, fine.” He breathes in deeply, letting out one final exhalation of defeat, “I... I’m sorry, y/n.” His brows furrow in deep, conflicted thought, but his mind is made.

He won’t be back.

---

Ushijima’s life hasn’t changed much.

It’s the same old routine. The standard, grueling workouts. Typical volleyball practice, group meetings, finances, paychecks, physicals, doctor’s appointments, fan meet-n-greets.

The usual.

But there’s a void settling like glacial frost in his soul. A snowy blue that seemed to melt into his bones, slowing him down.

He didn’t go a week… a day...  a minute without thinking of you.

Even now, lying in bed, the room cloaked in a tranquil darkness, you rest on his mind.

It’s not just the emptiness of the bed or the lack of physical touch. It’s the bitter, clawing memories of what he’d done to you and your gentle spirit. His body is frigid and forever frozen in the recurring visions of his foolish explanations, by how heartless and indifferent he’d seemed.

He’ll never get over the venomous tinge to your words.

You’d felt used.

He’d never meant to make you feel that way.

But since he moved out of your apartment, everything has felt glaringly hollow. The icy, barren tundra he crosses every time he realizes he won’t come home to your sunbeam smile and those thoughtfully lit candles, wears on him. How you would lavish him in comforting words, lulling him into a restful sleep.

Ushijima hardly remembers the last time he slept well.

Those dark circles under his eyes follow him everywhere. His whole team can see the exhaustion seeping into his execution of serves and spikes. He’s never struggled with his game performance before, but somehow the crashing reality of you leaving him has broken his patterns and systems.

He’s weary from searching for an answer to his emotions. Your warmth gave him life… and with that gone, what was the point of all of this?

And then it struck him, the realization sinking its needle-sharp claws into his soul, shredding it in seconds.

He’d found something far more valuable than any unique skill. More remarkable than the legacy he’d built as a world-class volleyball player. Someone who wanted to be with him just for the sake of… love.

And for the first time since he was young, he lets a tear slip into his white pillowcase.

Just one.

But it’s for you.

Because in chasing after what made him feel known and alive...

He’d lost the only person who had ever wanted to show him that he was important all along. The only person who was satisfied with his bizarre schedules. Someone who expected nothing more than gentle kisses and weekend dates.

But you were right.

You aren’t dispensable. Nor are you someone to drop for the purpose of picking up later, like loose change on a sidewalk. You deserved to be cherished. Held tightly. Given the love that you offered others.

He wishes he’d listened when you’d pleaded with him to stay. That he’d thought it through and functioned on more than just logic and reasoning. If only he’d known what it really meant to choose you.

Because if you were here now, he’d be the one begging,

“Please don’t go.”

---

tags: @cherryonigiri, @yams046, @kaidasen, @miss-rin

(comment or send an ask to be added to my general tag list) 

[theficplug]

ll 𝒾 𝒻𝑜𝓇𝑔𝑜𝓉 𝓉𝑜 𝒷𝑒 𝓎𝑜𝓊𝓇 𝓁𝑜𝓋𝑒𝓇 ll

Yahya x Black Reader

{a little malcolm & marie loosely, not so loosely inspired fic and after seeing a few things from Yahya. I’ve decided to write this.}

Warnings: none, i think ? possible tw: the brief mention of abandonment issues

Yahya was already padding through your shared cozy modern loft. 

His “good shoes'' as he calls them, long forgotten by the welcome mat.

 He headed straight to the kitchen to reheat leftovers from the Valentine's Day dinner you prepared for him last night. 

“Hors d'oeuvres weren't cutting it baby. And it was dry as hell.” he says jokingly as he turns on the Alexa. 

All Night by Beyonce plays softly in the background.

“What’s with you? You’ve barely said two words since we’ve gotten back from the event. You mad?” he asks slinging the blazer over the counter and kicking back against it. 

"I'm not angry Yahya. I want to take this tight ass dress off, have a warm shower , and go to bed. Can I do that in peace? " You say to him as you kick off the heels and make your way to the bedroom.

He was right on your trails as he followed you in and crossed his arms. 

“You looked beautiful tonight. Look at you.” he compliments 

The day of love was supposed to be just that but it felt like it was veering towards the opposite end of the spectrum. You take off your ears placing them in the jewelry holder carefully before sighing and kicking off your heels next. 

Yahya reassured you that he’d be home for Valentines Day but instead chose to take the last minute wrap dinner with his castmates and talk with the producers of his current project to secure the role on the next. 

You were more than happy for your man after busting his ass and finally securing a major role in the reboot of Candy Man and the newest male lead in his upcoming show. You truly were but it seemed as though for a while now he held no space for you in his chaotic world. 

You could feel Yahya eyeing you down as you silently, apart from the occasional huffing and puffy or mumbling little words to yourself. 

Yahya stands in the doorway of your bedroom watching you angrily snatch the clothes from the floor and set them aside before unzipping your dress. 

He frowns for a second before loosening his tie and contemplating walking over to you and helping you. After unzipping your cherry coloured silk gown the rest of the way his hands caresses slowly from your hips to your back, up your arms and finally settle on your shoulders. Yahya moves your hair curls to the side for a second placing soft kisses on to your neck. 

His hands already pulling at the end of your dress to your waist letting his hands wander 

He gazes at you for a moment noticing that the stoic expression is still etched across your face. 

"So you just gon’ be silent with me the whole night? No congratulatory kisses for your man."

“For.” kiss. “Your.” kiss. “Man.” kiss. 

 He whispers again against your neck and you move his hands off of you gently. 

"What’s up with you?" He asks again this time his voice laced with confusion as he tries to figure out why you've been acting this way since you left the event and the restaurant. 

"Nothing. Don't worry about it. I'm just tired. I ended up working all day yesterday since you didn’t come home and now I just want to relax and sleep." You reply before stripping down to just your stockings and grabbing your shower gels and caddy. 

"How am I supposed to fix whatever is going on here if you're going to act like this? What's wrong with you?" He asks again this time a little more concerned with the way you brushed him off. 

"What's wrong with me? Hmmm, Let's see, I've had to take care of our home and its repairs by myself for the past 8 months. I feel like I’m in a relationship by myself most days. And my fiance drives me to yet another fucking cast dinner . Where he fails to put his castmate in her place when she was clearly flirting with him right in front of his fiancee." You unload and Yahya whips his head around at you to process all  of your words. 

He cocks his head to the side before scoffing at your accusations. 

"So, instead of telling me how you felt you’d rather fucking explode on me on tonight of all nights. When I’ve just landed a record breaking 6 season extension and approval from Netflix. Who basically has the film industry by it’s balls right now. I’m not a mind reader. Baby, I didn’t know that she was going to say all of that. I was trying to be professional and let her make a fool of herself all on her own." He replies and you walk in the bathroom to put all of your things on the counter.

“Oh, I picked you because I knew we would drive the fans absolutely freaking wild. You know we’re just hot and have that chemistry on and off camera to make it you know like, work. Love scenes are easy to portray when you’ve got a man like Yah as your scene partner.” you mock her nasally and obnoxious tone as you pucker your lips mimicking her stiff lip fillers. 

"You never do Yahya. Nothing’s ever your fault! The waitress that asked if you could bench press her. The random woman holding onto your arm at the “celebratory dinner” in Denmark. I saw the pictures. You can have your head tossed back laughing hysterically with her but you can't even pick up the phone and see how your fiancee is holding up in the first winter without you here.`` 

"That’s not fair. It was dinner. The director’s daughter.  A dinner that he attended too. What do you want me to say? "No I'll  sit this one out because my girl doesn't want me to talk to other people because she still hasn't learned to deal with her insecurities and projects them onto everything I do"." he retorts and you stare him in the eye before tears well in yours. 

The silence falls over both of you as you stare him down. He was really standing here bringing out things you've told him during past pillow talks. 

You stare at each other in the mirror and he immediately  wraps his arms around you to apologize and kiss all over your shoulder and face. 

"No, You tell them that I can count on one hand how many months out of the year we spent together last year. You tell them that my girl had to spend Christmas watching everyone else get loved on and share the holiday cheer while I got to watch you skii over facetime. You tell them my girl made a beautiful steak dinner last night and got me tickets to watch my favourite fucking team for VaIentine’s Day, but I’d rather spend it talk about an old white guy’s scripts. I thought about breaking up with you around Thanksgiving before you came home. I blamed it on the distance, you know. I just felt that way because I only ever got to see you over facetime for what seemed like an hour or 2 a day. I said that when you came home everything would be okay again. I think that I may have been wrong. There’s two people in this relationship. But I also feel as though I may be holding onto something that's just not there." you tell him before grabbing your things out of his hands and stepping into the shower. 

Yahya swallowed hard and looked down at you for a moment, his jaw going slack for a second but his pride not letting him admit that he may have been in the wrong. 

"You didn’t tell me none of this. When I call you and I ask you how are you feeling? You always say it’s fine , it’s fine, everything’s fine. I mean we knew the kind of lives we lived when we got on this ride together. You traveled. I traveled. We traveled together. That’s how it was until you decided that acting wasn’t for you. I’m not abandoning you bae. That’s not what’s happening here." Yahya explains as he starts his skincare routine.

You let the warm water wash over you and the coils of your hair as you peel off the lashes and let out a long sigh.

Yahyah knew that one of your things was that you didn’t want to feel like a burden or to feel like you’ve been forgotten but this rough spat felt different.

"I wanted you. I wanted you to hold me and tell me you loved me and that I looked pretty for once." 

"You always look pretty though. You know that." 

“Happy Anniversary, Yahya.” you say quietly and you can hear him let out a drawn out “damn it” as he washes the cleanser off his face and looks up at you through the fogged glass. 

He drops his head slighly as he stands at the door before openingn it. . 

“I’m going to fix all of this. I love you and I want you to know that I’m sorry. You are the last person in my life that I wanna lose or hurt. I need you to know that I’m still the one you can turn to. You’re still the one I wanna experience this life with. Your greatest joys and highs. Your sad days when you just need to be held. The days where we lay together in bed and I can hear your heartbeat. Probably the cheesiest shit you've ever heard but it's my favourite sound I mean you calling out my name is a close second but that one is my favourite.” he reassures. He relaxes against your touch when you turn to face him and wrap your arms around him. 

Yahya embraces you, unphased by the fact that his shirt and pants are getting soaked. 

“Now that I’m thinking about it. I’ve fallen in love with you over and over again. There’s so many layers to you. It’s everyday I’m falling in love with something new about you. Even on days like this.  First time I fell in love with you. We were sitting at this coffee shop tapping your pencil against a notepad. You had Diary by Alicia Keys stuck in your head and you kept singing parts of the song to me throughout the day. You had this pretty floral pattern type of baby blue dress that fell off your shoulders. You wore your grandmother’s ring cause you said it always calms your nerves to have her there with you when you auditioned. Nobody had even heard of me before. I was going for some feature film role. At the time you were going for a recurring role on the Young & The Restless or some show like that. I remember you were reading the script and you let out a laugh. It was your laugh. The loud remedy of it curing the butterflies in my stomach. The little patch of the 4c bangs in the front, the rest of your hair slicked back into a puff. I loved the way that it framed your lil round face. The gold hoops against your deep beautiful brown skin. I liked the way you did your makeup. With the lil highlight at the tip of your nose. It made you look like a lil fairy...I proposed to you that day. After 6 months of knowing you.  Baby it was you, everything about you. You were laughing at having dump iced coffee all over your scene partner’s head but I was smiling because I knew. I was like so this is what made all them oldheads sing like that in the blues songs my daddy used to play. I wanted to be in it for the long haul. And I still do. I know I got a lot of making up to do. But I want you to know that I see you. I see you and I’m going to do what I need to do to make everything more than just alright. I love you.” 

You let his words soak in as he cupped your face and you nodded along to his words. After helping him strip off his drenched clothes he steps into the shower with you where you embraced him in your arms gain. 

“You’ve always told me that you knew early on but you never told me. I love you too, you know. It’s just you know how I am more than anybody. I know that your dreams are finally coming true and you deserve that.  I don’t want to stand in the way of that. But I still find a way to balance my work and our relationship. I just want you to meet me in the middle.” you say  against his lips before capturing his plump lips in a kiss. 

“I’m gonna fix it..” He reassures you in between kisses 

“We’ve still got 3 hours left of our anniversary. Our record is 5. We can still try to break that” you whisper in his ear-

( i don’t know what this is lol. sorry I didn’t get any valentines posts up.  i had a whole migraine and have had more low days than up in the past weeks but we keep going. i hoped you like this little, i dont know what to call it. i dont really know how to write fluff lol so here’s the angst.)

[gem-rewatch]

SU rewatch- S1E11- Arcade Mania

Hey, long time no see!

I’m desperately bored in solitary quarantine at university right now, and decided to try and pick this SU rewatch series up again for fun. It’s been a while since I’ve watched through the show in order. Plus, now that this show is completely finished, there’s plenty more connections to make. I can’t promise I’ll be consistent with this, but at the very least I can have fun trying to make a few more posts at my leisure.

Anyways. With that business out of the way. Let’s get right on to the show!

We begin with yet another mission Steven’s guardians have brought him along on! I believe this is the fifth mission we know of that he’s accompanied them on so far. (Lunar Sea Spire, Inverted Pyramid, the unknown mission he returns from in Tiger Millionaire, the desert, and now this one.) It’s really sweet seeing the Gems begin to trust him tagging along more often. There will come a day in the near future where missions become routine for Steven, but in these early episodes, you can really tell that each and every one is a brand new adventure.

In terms of plot, though, this episode is honestly Future Vision: The Prequel.

We learn a lot about Garnet’s abilities and her role in the team here, even if all of these details aren’t spelled out word-for-word quite yet. Hints towards her future vision we see this ep include:

Garnet moving ahead of the group to be in the perfect spot to catch Steven when he falls.

Her flawless moves while fighting and dodging the monsters.

Her becoming a master at the rhythm game later in the episode.

Like, damn. Look at this.

Look at her go.

My Q U E E N!

I had to gif all of this just because it’s such a beautiful and smooth sequence of animation.

If there’s one thing all of the Crystal Gems can 100% agree on, it’s that Garnet is friggin’ amazing.

Garnet: “Let them go. They’re just parasites. If they want to be a problem, they’ll have to answer to me.”

So, does this statement mean that- at this present moment- her extended stay at the arcade was entirely beyond her future vision? That the only futures she saw were ones where she was actually present to deal with containment of the Gem parasites? Given that later scenes insinuate she’d never been to the arcade before, and would have no “data” about its games to factor into her internal understanding of the world, this seems likely.

I adore the gradual palette change here, from shadow, to setting sun. It’s a nice detail that adds so much more life to what could otherwise be a rather mundane transition scene. It seems like unique palettes were more common in early SU- I wonder why Crewniverse stopped implementing these as often later on?

Pearl, entering the arcade: “Humans find such fascinating ways to waste their time.”

Thanks, Pearl. Love you too. <3

This sequence of Pearl failing at playing a car chase/road rage game hits so much different knowing what happens in Last One Out of Beach City. It’s genuinely radical how far she grows in confidence from this point, because here, she seems so shackled to rules and guidelines. Now that we know about her rebellious past, it might be tempting to write this characterization off as “early series weirdness,” but... I don’t think that’s what’s happening here.

Instead, I wonder if she’s working through grief-related regression.

Think about it... the pain of Rose’s passing is still so fresh for her. She was a rule breaking rebel once, yes, but she spent all of those days at Rose’s side. And I get the sense that she’s poured so much of herself into keeping Rose safe, into the rebellion against Homeworld, that without those, she’s caught in a vacuum. What IS her purpose now, when the very person she rebelled for is gone?

So she slips back into old pearl-like habits. Chronic rule following, and a fear of deviating from norms. How familiar. Thankfully, much of her arc throughout the show is her directly growing beyond these habits to live boldly as her own Gem.

The friggin video game when Garnet knocks its head off: “TELL MY WIFE I’M SORRYYY!!!”

Yo, what the fuck. This line is both hilarious and messed up, all at once. Please tell me the game isn’t sentient.

Aaaand here we finally introduce Garnet to the video game sensation that is Meat Beat Mania! This game is perfectly suited to her and her power of foresight because its patterns are algorithmic and not vulnerable to spontaneous deviations, and thus easy to predict, with enough input. She’s probably getting a quick rush of satisfaction with every correct move, and she barely has to exert any energy with her future vision to get that rush. After years and years of wading through endless possibility at every avenue, this video game’s patterns must be a rejuvenating breath of fresh air.

It’s addicting.

...Kinda makes me think of how I get sometimes when I play solitaire on my phone for an hour straight. After a while, I barely even think, I’m just shuffling through my deck and moving cards almost on automatic. I don’t have to use much energy to play, and it gives me animated fireworks every time I finish a match. It’s a win-win.

Amethyst: “I’MMA WIN AN AIRPLANE!”

I don’t know what it is about the way Michaela Dietz says the world “airplane,” but this makes me laugh every time. Does... does she think she can win a genuine airplane here because she saw Onion win a tiny motorbike from the ticket booth?? Amethyst, oh my god. XD

She’s got the spirit, this wild child.

So, moving on- we meet up with our crew later the next morning, Garnet nowhere to be seen. There’s an interesting exchange I’d like to highlight real quick-

Pearl: “If we’re supposed to fight a giant foot, Garnet would let us know.” Amethyst: “Yeah, Garnet’s the boss!” Pearl: “Well, we’re all a team. Garnet just has heightened perception that guides us towards our mission objectives.”

Considering the specific phrasing Pearl uses here- “heightened perception” instead of “future vision-” did Garnet outright tell the two of them to not explain her powers, just like she told them not to mention she’s a fusion? Because I’m pretty sure no one ever uses the phrase “heightened perception” again in reference to her powers.

Given the fact that Garnet chose to keep the knowledge of Ruby and Sapphire under the table until she felt Steven could understand her better, my guess is that this is a similar scenario.

Ahah, I genuinely can’t tell if this is Steven being gullible, or just impulsively playing along with Amethyst’s antics. Still- gross, kid. Don’t wipe your wet cereal face on your shirt! Ew! :O

When he goes outside and starts to use a kiddy metal detector to scan for quarters... so THAT’S where he finds his arcade money! Because I can’t imagine Greg is financially able to give him that much to spend on non-essentials at this point in the show.

Okay, so... I just want to bring light to the fact that Garnet has literally been in this arcade ALL NIGHT LONG.

It was evening when she first arrived here- the sun was visibly setting in the background, and when Steven, Amethyst, and Pearl left, the sky was dark. But now it’s morning. Steven was just seen eating breakfast. And Garnet is STILL HERE.

Does this mean Mr. Smiley locked her IN? I have so many questions... Did he try to get her to leave, only to be intimidated by her complete lack of response? I would kill to know more about this interaction. Poor Mr. Smiley. That man deals with so much bullshit in this town, huh?

Geebus, is Garnet a solid wall. Previous episodes have shown Steven forcibly shoving whole tons of food, and swinging a mini-freezer over his head, and yet he can’t get her to budge even an inch.

I absolutely adore how he climbs up her frame like a koala, though, ahah. Cute.

Meat Beat Mania announcer: “That’s rare!!” Steven: “Oh my gosh...!”

I take these two lines as evidence that this is the first time Steven’s ever seen Garnet’s eyes. Specifically, the fact that there’s three of them. Which, makes sense- since Garnet is still really reserved emotionally at this point, and is only begins to get in the habit of taking her visor off to show Steven her full face later on in the show.

This expression deeply hurts me.

Steven’s so distraught here- because the others are in danger, the town is in danger, and he doesn’t have his trusty, dependable guardian who catches him when he falls and beats up scary monsters for him. Without her, the whole team is vulnerable and blind.

He feels alone. He feels... powerless.

And so he responds to that confusing, powerless feeling by trying to compensate with his own power. When all other routes he can think of fail, he smashes the video game console.

It... uh, it works... but once again, Steven entirely fails to consider the consequences, huh? He experienced a little bit of character growth in this regard in the episode Serious Steven, but even past that it’ll remain an recurring issue for him. Hell, his impulsiveness is a general character flaw even stretching into SUF.

In summary, though:

Poor Mr. Smiley. He works so hard, and doesn’t deserve this BS. ;-;

[daresplaining]

[ID: Excerpt from Zdarsky’s Daredevil run. Elektra and Daredevil are in prison, at the door of Matt’s cell, talking (Matt is in an orange prison jumpsuit and matching mask).]

Elektra: “You wanted to strike higher! No more beating up drug dealers! No more chasing liquor store robbers! This is what you’re looking for! This is the ceiling! There is nothing higher! How can you even--”

Matt: “It’s simple... I don’t trust you. You’re a murderer. You use people.”

[ID: Matt closes the door of his cell in her face and lies down on his bed.]

Matt: “You’re tired of the darkness? You want to work for the light? Prove it.”

Daredevil vol. 6 #25 by Chip Zdarsky, Marco Checchetto, and Marcio Menyz

    Like much of this run, I’ve had kind of a tough time grappling with my feelings on this issue, for various reasons that I won’t necessarily go into in this post. But I did want to talk about this moment, and my main takeaway from the Matt side of things. 

    One significant, recurring facet of Matt Murdock’s character is that he’s a colossal jerk. Not all the time, of course, but enough to be noteworthy. This is actually one of my favorite things about him. He can be petty, cruel, thoughtless, selfish, and there are several key runs in which you are prompted to root against him, or at the very least, to disagree with his behavior. I love that. I love how human it makes him, and I enjoy stories in which the protagonist isn’t always in the right. I’ve mentioned before that one of my main problems with Zdarsky’s run is that I dislike Matt, but it doesn’t feel like I’m supposed to. I haven’t been able to parse whether he’s intentionally being written as punchable, or if I just don’t like the writing. But regardless, Zdarsky did a great job of making me want to wrap my hands around Matt’s throat and squeeze the life out of him in this issue. 

    The context, if anyone hasn’t read it, is that Matt (as Daredevil, hence the mask) is in jail for accidentally causing someone’s death all the way back in the first issue of the run. He pled guilty and allowed himself to go to jail only because he felt comfortable knowing that Elektra would be protecting Hell’s Kitchen from this story’s Big Bads. Elektra then comes to him in this issue and asks for his help fighting the Hand, and this is his response: to tell her that he doesn’t trust her and that he thinks she’s a terrible person. I’m not going to claim this is new, because it isn’t. Matt also pulled this type of moralizing with her in Soule’s run, and it bothered me then too (note: that post was written before anyone knew that the whole arc was a dream sequence, but the point still stands). Maybe Matt is being intentionally petty here, because Elektra slept with him and then manipulated him and so he’s annoyed at her. Plus, one of the reasons Matt is so unlikeable in this current run is his repeated self-important moralizing at everyone around him, so this at least fits that pattern of behavior. And it’s extra galling here because it’s Elektra, and this is a genuinely cruel thing to say to her, particularly now, when she has just done him a huge favor. 

    I’ve had some issues with Zdarsky’s characterization of Elektra, but I think that just comes down to a difference in taste. It was clear from the beginning that he was basing her characterization on Frank Miller’s semi-canon Man Without Fear mini-series, and that became extra blatant in this issue, which literally starts with a flashback to a scene from that comic. And it happens that Elektra’s MWF characterization is... not my favorite. But I certainly can’t criticize Zdarsky for using it, other writers have too, and again, it just comes down to differences in interpretation. What matters here is that this version of Elektra suffers from some kind of inherent violent tendency that she has always struggled to control. And in general, over the years, one of the most common recurring Elektra plotlines has been her attempts to find peace and comfort and human connection in the cruel, brutal world in which she lives. When she returned from the dead the first time, she made a huge effort to put her life as an assassin behind her. Matt knows this. He was there. And many, many Elektra stories have focused on her empathy, on her own feelings of loss and trauma being pulled to the surface again and again, on the clash between the armor of pragmatic cynicism she has constructed in order to do her work and the ethical issues she faces as she performs that work. She is not cruel and she is not unfeeling, and Matt knows this because he knows her. She has helped him many times, she has had his back, she has saved his life, and at the end of the day, when you get right down to it, he loves her-- and this is the point where I give Zdarsky credit for making me want to strangle Matt because telling Elektra that he doesn’t trust her, and making her feel like she needs to prove herself to him yet again, is a nasty thing for him to do to her. And it’s very telling and painful that Elektra seems to take this criticism to heart, and it’s why her decision to act as Daredevil for him (as she says outright: in order to get him to believe in her) is bittersweet rather than just downright awesome. (To clarify: It is awesome. It’s just... an emotionally complicated awesome.) 

    Clearly, this was a pretty emotional read for me, and I’m grateful for it, because I’ve formed an emotional connection with so few issues in this run that it was wonderful to feel something, even if that something was just a burning desire to punch Matt in the face. 

[libsterslobsters]

The Wanton Song

Summary: How do you broach the topic of sex with the 90-something super soldier you've found yourself dating? That's the reader's question. Luckily, she and Bucky are no strangers to awkward conversations...

Pairings: Bucky Barnes x fem!enhanced! Reader

(Reader can see bits and pieces of the future in visions and understands all languages)

Warnings: SMUT, tiny bit of angst, lotsa fluff, maybe some past dub!con if you squint

Author's note: Wow... here I am posting smut on the internet. Never thought that would happen. Tmi, but I'm married, so I have a good amount of sex 🙀 and I actually had a great first time, but some people don't, and that's what I tried to represent. That, and CONSENT!!!! Consent is sexy, y'all. Safe, sane and consensual all day every day.

As always, the reader's name isn't stated so that you can read as a self insert, but I've written so much at this point that I refer to the Reader as Violet in my own mind.

*************************************************

 Life has been going swimmingly these past few months. Better than ever before in fact, or at the very least, better than in a long time. She’s still a fugitive, living life looking over her shoulder, but now she has a steady job, a steady paycheck, and oh yeah, a steady boyfriend. Those three things have never aligned for her before (especially the last one). Overall, she’s pretty happy. But, because she’s her, there’s still a question niggling at the back of her mind.

 The transition from “you’re my only friend” to “we’re together now” went smoothly, helped in part by the fact that Barnes had been at that particular juncture the whole time. From the outside looking in, the only major changes have been the addition of those three simple but very key words and an upping the anti in the cuddles department.

 Speaking of cuddles, that’s a very mild term for what’s going on these days. It starts out innocent enough. The usual location is on the couch at one or the other’s apartment. There hadn’t been much distance between them since that first time where they ended up talking more than watching the movie playing from her laptop, but now, the space is nonexistent. As a general rule, within the first ten minutes, her legs somehow end up over his lap or in some way intertwined with is. The intention is always to pay attention to what’s on the screen but, well, when you’re that close, it would be rude not to snuggle up. And, when the other person looks that damn kissable, it would truly be insulting not to take the plunge.

 Now, considering the angle, one of them has to lean in. Otherwise, it would be awkward. That generally determines who, somewhere from two to ten minutes later, is on top of who. Of course hands wander, and even though it’s understood that the word “no” can be employed at any time and immediately obeyed (not to mention the copious amounts of “Is this okay”’s being asked), she can’t remember a time either of them have said it.

 If she had to attach a term to what comes next, it would be ‘dry humping.’ And then… nothing. It always ends far too soon, leaving her flustered and with her heart racing. At first she thought it was because he simply didn’t want her, but, well, there’s certain physical signs that point to that not being the problem. Her next guess was that he’s simply being respectful. Well, as sweet as that is, she’s ready to get on with it. She’s only human after all, and as such, has needs. Sure, she could take care of them herself, but if she had to guess, he’s experiencing those needs too, and from what she’s heard, it’s more fun to take care of it together.

 The only issue: how the hell do you bring something like this up, especially when the person you’re bringing it up with grew up in a much more repressed era than you did? She’s been debating it for the past week, and despite having multiple visions, none of them have given her that key insight into what to do.

 Finally, she decides to just say it. They’ve made a point to be honest with each other, and it’s probably best to get it out of the way. They’re adults, after all. They can have this discussion. She’s going to come straight out with it.

 “Hey, can I ask you something? It’s kind of personal, and maybe a little uncomfortable.”

 “Sure, Doll.” The response is immediate. “Fire away.”

 Glancing up to make sure they’re not at a pivotal scene in tonight’s movie (they have a system; at his place, watch something he grew up with, at hers, something made literally anytime after 1945), she spits out the whole sentence in one breathless go. “Are we ever going to have sex?”

 It feels like a branding iron where his arm is still wrapped around her shoulder. Still, it’s comforting. At least he’s not moving away.

 “I gotta admit, that’s not the question I was expecting. What brought this on?”

 She shrugs, carefully keeping her eyes trained on the wall behind his head instead of on him.

 “Nothing in particular. Just…” is there a delicate way to put this? “...I think things are going well between us, and sometimes when we’re together… I’ve noticed that there’s a physical response.” She’s really hoping that’ll suffice, because she can’t think of a good way to say “I can feel that you’re hard when you’re on top of me”.

 “Oh.”

 Apparently, her meaning is indeed clear enough, because he removes his arm from her shoulders. She’s about to apologize (all the while mentally berating herself) when his hand closes over hers.

 “I’m sorry about that, Doll. I’ll try to stay calmer.” Wait, that’s not- “It’s just an issue guys have. Don’t think it means you have to do anything that you don’t want to, because I would never-”

 “I know you wouldn’t.” Without thinking, she cuts him off. “And I want to.” It feels like she’s sitting in a sauna, she’s so flustered from this conversation. “But only if you do, and I understand if you didn’t-”

 “No.” It’s abrupt, cutting her off. A definite answer that leaves no room for questioning. “No, I do. I just-” He clears his throat. “-I didn’t want to bring it up, in case we weren’t on the same page. “ This seems to be a recurring theme, so far. “And it’s not a must. If you change your mind-”

 It’s pure instinct. There’s no thought involved as she closes the gap between them, this time with her on top, and presses  her lips against his. The response is immediate and enthusiastic. She considers just going on, not putting a stop to things, but realization hits that, although overall she’s ready for this to happen, she’s not ready for it to happen tonight. There’s still things she needs to take care of. Most importantly, protection.

 So, gasping for breath, she pulls away. “I’m calling for a rain check, but if after that, you still think I’ll change my mind-” she pushes back her hair and forces herself to take a deep breath. “-then you may just be beyond help, Barnes.” If the chuckle is anything to judge from, she’s made her point.

_________________________________________________________________________________

 Wow. Bucky thinks to himself as he exits out of the browser tab on his phone. That’s enough internet for one day. Too much, actually. He knows that it’s the information superhighway, but good god, no one needs THAT much information. He really needs to be more specific with what he googles… or less… or just not at all.

 He’d never admit it (and really, who the hell is gonna ask him anyway), but he spent the last hour looking up how to have sex. He’s engaged in the act before, yeah, but it was seventy years ago. Plus, it used to be this huge taboo thing that you suspected was going on behind closed doors, but no one (not even the married couples) owned up to it. If you were ever found out, there were severe consequences. As a man, he didn’t have to worry as much, but if whoever the woman was had her dirty laundry aired… oh boy. She’d be a pariah, a “scarlet woman”, unfit for marriage or to even give the time of day. That led to limited encounters, and, well, it just seemed smart to brush up on what information is out there. As it turns out, people have written a lot about the fine art of love making. Unfortunately for him, most of it is absolute garbage. Some of the positions he just read about (because at that point, the article was like a train wreck; he badly wanted to look away, but he couldn’t) don’t even sound possible, much less pleasurable. He’s all for society being freer, but good grief!

 He’s halfway through a bottle of straight vodka (it won’t have any effect, but he’s hoping maybe the alcohol will travel to his brain and sanitize his eyeballs from most of the shit he just read) when his phone rings. Great. He’s always happy to talk to her, but right now… wow. It’s gonna take him some time to recover, so he hopes she doesn’t need him to say much.

 “Hey, Doll.”

 “I am so fucking pissed off right now.” That sounds promising.

 “At what?”

 “The city of Bucharest, my apartment, the landlord, whoever the fuck did the plumbing in this building! God!” She’s clearly out of breath, so it takes a minute before she can speak again. “I’m sorry, Buck. It’s just that I came home from work, and one of my neighbors told me the entire sixth floor is under a good inch, inch and a half of water.” Wait-

 “How-”

 “I don’t know. Busted pipe. It’s leaked down onto the fifth floor, so I’ve got about fifty other pissed off people for company.”

 “Jesus.” 

 She chuckles harshly. “Yeah, we could use him right about now to perform a miracle. This is a shit show, and I haven’t even told you the best part.”

 “So the spontaneous flood wasn’t the highlight of your day?”

 “I fucking wish! So, naturally, I tried to call the landlord, along with basically everyone else. Get this: since it’s after five o’clock on a Friday, he’s not gonna do anything. Told us collectively to suck it up! And of course, when there’s a leak, they have to cut the power…” He’s starting to see a pattern here.

 She sighs. “I really needed to get that off my chest. How are you?” Still slightly weirded out by the information overload, but feeling a little more steady now that he’s got a good catastrophe to concentrate on. However, that’s probably not the best answer to go with.

 “Better than you are.”

 “What, the sky isn’t falling where you are?” He chuckles.

 “No, it’s right where it’s supposed to be.”  Which reminds him… “But since it seems like you’re short a functional home, why don’t you just stay here until they sort things out?” He’s got a couch that, while it doesn’t have anything on an actual bed, he can manage to sleep on for the next few nights. Or maybe they can share his bed. He shakes his head. That thought needs to be put to the side, even if it’s meant in the most innocent way possible. Of course, in case she decides to cash in that rain check…

 “Yes. I mean, that would be great, if you’re sure.”

 “I’m sure.” Actually, he can’t think of a better way to spend the weekend. The plan was to meet up either Saturday or Sunday, possibly both, so this isn’t that far out of the ordinary.

 “Okay, but just a warning: They’re not letting us go up to our floor in case there’s been electrical damage as well-” That’s smart. If the pipes are in that bad of condition, who knows what the wiring looks like. “-so all I have is my purse, backpack, and what I wore to work. No toothbrush or pajamas, or anything like that.”

 “That’s alright. All you have to bring is yourself.” He’ll have to look, but he’s pretty sure he has something in his closet that’ll work okay for her until she gets the all clear to go into her apartment. Plus, there’s a laundry mat just around the corner, not to mention a pharmacy.

 “Thank you. I really appreciate it.” 

 “Not a problem.” He glances at his bedside clock. Five thirty-four. It takes roughly half an hour to get across the city by bus, so… “I’ll see you around six fifteen?”

 “See you then.”

 As soon as the line goes dead, he springs into action. First thing’s first: make sure there’s no dirty clothes, old dishes, or trash laying around. That takes all of five minutes. He should probably check that he does indeed have something she can wear so they won’t have to fumble around later. Tshirts are pretty universal and… yes, he has a few pajama bottoms that have a drawstring waist. How much time does he have left? The phone screen lights up, giving him his answer. Twenty-seven minutes. More than enough time to run around the corner and pick up a few things.

 His intention is to buy the basics: spare toothbrush, deodorant, hairbrush, maybe a different shampoo than his three-in-one body wash (it’s convenient for him, but she might prefer something designated for hair specifically). But, well, there’s quite a few aisles, and he gets sucked in. Does he need to buy razors, or is that rude, like he thinks she’s hairy? What about aspirin? How often do most people get headaches? He honestly can’t remember. 

 By the time he realizes that he really needs to get a move on, his basket is full and he has no idea what aisle he’s on. Desperately, he looks around, and his eyes land on… huh. So they just have them out in the open these days. Last time he was in the market for that, he had to beg a married friend to make the purchase for him. He briefly wonders if he’ll need to produce proof of marriage or something similar, but pushes the thought to the side. It’s the 2000s. He can probably just go up to the register and pay, and no one will give him a second look. But there’s just one problem: which brand? He should google… suddenly remembering his adventure from earlier today, he decides to just go with his gut and pick one. There. Now, he needs to pay and get the fuck out of here because there’s only ten minutes left, and he’d rather not have these out in the open, in case she thinks that’s the reason he’s asked her to stay over. If it happens, great. If not… well, he’s made it for the past seventy years. What’s a few more?

___________________________________________________________________________________

 She was still pretty shaken up when she arrived at his apartment, carrying her backpack and purse, slightly damp from the drizzle of rain now covering the city. But immediately receiving a long hug, being instructed to make herself at home, and hearing the offer to take a shower so she could warm up did a lot to restore her good mood.

 It was one of the sweetest thing she’s ever experienced in a lifetime where most people have showed her their worst, going into that bathroom and finding a new toothbrush, stick of deodorant, nail clippers, hairbrush, and even shampoo. That and Barnes bashfully informing her that, “I’ll stay in the living room until you’re done. Take your time.” She almost suggested that he just join her in an attempt to broach the subject they left off on two nights ago, but thought better of it. She’s just started to strip when a knock comes from the other side of the wall.

 “Sorry. I just remembered that I forgot to give you a change of clothes. Can I leave them outside the door?” A smile forms on her face.  

 “Sure. Go ahead.” No one’s given this much thought to her comfort or boundaries before. Yet another reason she knows this is the right decision.

 She doesn’t stay in the shower for long, just enough time to wash and stop shivering. After toweling off and brushing out her hair, she cracks open the door. Sure enough, a worn but clean tshirt and pair of pajama bottoms are waiting for her. The familiar scent of the laundry detergent he uses envelopes her as she dresses and, at long last, leaves the safety of the bathroom.

 True to his word, he’s still sitting on the couch, thumbing through a book she gave him some months back (he’s missed so many feats of literature that have made their way into pop culture; today’s choice is The Hobbit because, while it was out before everything happened to him, he’s never read it) when she emerges. Just in case he’s so absorbed that he hasn’t heard her, she repeats his gesture from earlier and knocks softly on the wall.

 “Hey. I’m out. You can have your apartment back.”

 “Hey.” That smile always makes her feel slightly unsteady on her feet. “Find everything okay?”

 “I did.” She settles into the place next to him. “Thank you, by the way. You didn’t have to go out and get supplies.”

 “I know.” He nods, hand closing around hers. “But I wanted to make sure you had whatever you needed.”

 They chat for a while about their days, discuss what they should do with the weekend ahead, even throw out ideas for dinner. The entire time, she’s trying to figure out the best way to bring up that she’d really like to finish what they started the other night. However, by the time he’s left to grab some sort of takeout, she’s still no closer to an answer.

 Fortunately, their dates usually follow a pattern. Food, a movie, and then the not-so-innocent cuddles. This time, he’s on top of her when she feels the tell-tale sign that he’s as fired up as she is, so she suggests,

 “Do want to maybe move to somewhere more comfortable?” His already dilated pupils grow even larger, and he nods.

 “Yeah. That sounds like a plan.” She waits for him to roll off of her and head towards the bedroom before she grabs her purse and, digging around inside, grabs one of the foil packages she bought after their last date.

 It’s only once she closes the door behind her, shutting them into an enclosed space with a bed (not to mention it’s pretty damn clear what both of their intentions are), that nerves get the better of her.  He takes a step towards her, and she leans up to kiss him, but he ducks his head out of the way.

 “You’re shaking.” His hand ghosts over her arm, making it obvious that, by comparison, she’s practically vibrating on the spot.

 “Sorry.” She chuckles nervously. “It’ll pass.”

 “It’s alright.” As he says it, he meets her eyes. “We can stop. Nothing has to happen.”

 “I know.” She nods, swallowing hard. “But I want it to.” Their lips briefly meet before he pulls away again.

 “Let me ask you, just before we get started, is this-” He stops short, eyes darting from her face to the wall and back again. “...have you… before?” Oh. “Not that it matters, not to me, I just wanted to know so that-”

 “I have.” She nods, feeling heat rise to her cheeks. “Once. I was eighteen, and-” It was awful. She’d been seeing the guy for a few months and he kept whining about her not putting out, so she decided to get it over with. He went in dry without any warning, and when she asked him to stop, give her a second to adjust, he told her he couldn’t. She was bleeding and in pain for days afterwards, and to top it off, when her period was late, she thought that, even though he’d pulled out, she was pregnant. That turned out not to be the case, but it, along with the fact that she usually doesn’t stay in one place for very long, has put a damper on her ever wanting to do that again. Except for now. “-it wasn’t a great experience.”

 “I’m sorry.” On instinct, she searches for the judgment in his face, the disgust. It’s nowhere to be found, only genuine sympathy. “I’ll do my best to make sure this time is better. That is, if you’re still up to it.”

 “I am.” Not waiting for a reply, she wraps her arms around him and starts trailing kisses up his neck towards his ear. “I am. I trust you.” She hears his breath catch, but before she can comment, he’s hoisted her up and is carrying her in the direction of the bed.

 As he sets her down, she pulls him on top of her, letting her hands wander over his sides, up his back. After a few moments, she feels his fingers move from her hips to toy with the hem of her… his.. shirt.

 “Is this okay? Can I take this off?” She starts to nod, but remembers just in time that he’s so close, they’d butt heads.

 “Please.” She expected to feel exposed once she was at least partially undressed, but instead she feels… adored. His eyes are roaming over her newly exposed skin, though his hands have respectfully returned to her waist. In a moment of confidence, she reaches behind her and unhooks her bra. There. Now she’s completely shirtless.

 “You’re so beautiful.” The flush from her cheeks is spreading down her neck, but she still smiles.

 “Care to make things even?” It’s brief, but she catches the look of hesitation.

 “Sure.” Before she can offer to do it, he shrugs his shirt over his head, revealing to her, for the first time, the entirity of his metal arm. She must look for a moment too long, because with a shrug, he informs her, “I can put my shirt back on. No big deal. I know there’s some scarring…” That’s not going to fly. She needs to reassure him, make him feel as desired as he’s made her feel.

 “Or if you want to stop-” She stands and, after briefly making eye contact, places a kiss on the most prominent scar.

 “Don’t you dare think that way for a second.” They’re flush against each other, chest to bare chest. “Not for one.” Slowly, she slides her hands from his shoulders down to his waist, hesitating just over the button. “Is this okay?” Another shakey breath.

 “Yes.”

 Going forward, it’s much less awkward. The rest of their clothing is shed, and soon they’re back to their previous position; on the bed, with him on top of her. She feels his fingertips brush the inside of her thigh and gasps.

 “May I touch you?” She nods.

 “You’d better.”

 It’s gentle, more of him feeling her out than anything else. Still, she can’t help but think this is infinitely better already than last time around. Suddenly, he pulls his hand away, and it takes all her effort not to whine at the loss of contact. Before she can ask if something’s wrong, does he want to stop, he’s flat on his stomach, head between her legs.

 “Tell me if you need me to stop.”

 “What-” Her breath catches as it becomes infinitely clear what he’s doing.

 Again, she’s expecting pain when, after several minutes he eases a finger into her, but at this point, she’s so wet that there’s absolutely no difficulty.

 “Are you okay?” She nods.

 “Don’t stop.”

 The process is agonizingly slow, he’s so intent on his task. When, finally, he pulls away, she’s so close that she can almost taste it.

 “Do you still want to-”

 “If you don’t stop asking me that, I’m gonna slap you.” It’s a joke, and she thinks he knows it, but just to be sure, she siezes his hand (the metal one, which is usually cold but has now warmed from being held close against her body. “I’m ready, so long as you want this too.”

 “I do. You wouldn’t believe how much.” Yeah, she thinks she would. “Just give me a second.” Perfect timing. He rolls off of her, which gives her the opening she needs to grab the packet she managed to hide under the pillow while he was… otherwise distracted. When he returns from digging inside the wardrobe, she holds it up, only to realize-

 “Oh.” He’s got one as well. “Seems like we both came prepared.”

 He chuckles. “Just in case, although that wasn’t why I asked you to stay.”

 “I know.” She nods and pats the space next to her. “Not why I said yes either, although I can’t say I’m disappointed.”

 He returns to the bed and drops his packet onto the nightstand. “Save this one for later?”

 “Definitely.”

 There is a bit of discomfort once he starts to push inside her, but it’s not painful. Just… overwhelming. Slightly embarassed she asks,

 “Can you wait a second? Please?”

 “Of course. Are you alright?” She shifts her hips slightly, making them both groan.

 “Fine. You can move now.”

 She may have only done this once before, and she has no idea what his experience consists of, but as she hits her peak mere seconds before he does, gently coaxed over the edge, she can’t help but think some things are better the second time around.

 “I love you.” It’s whispered against her neck as, once she cleans up and returns to bed, she settles herself against him.

 “I love you too.”

___________________________________________________________________________________

 The first thing he thinks when he realizes that he’s not alone in bed is that HYDRA’s found him. He’s being activated. His eyes shoot open although apart from that he doesn’t move a muscle, and that’s when he recognizes the person next to him. It’s her. She’s here.

 The events of last night come back to him all at once, and he feels a smile forming on his face. It’s been a while, and in any case, it would be wrong to run a comparison, but what they shared, the pure intimacy of it both physically and mentally was incredible. Maybe he should feel a sense of shame. That’s what he was taught growing up. But instead he feels… peaceful.

 That is, until her eyelids flutter and she rolls over, shifting the covers so that he gets a good view of her still naked body, and with it, the bruises on her thighs and hips. Bruises unmistakably left by his fingers. Dammit. He’s done the last thing he ever wanted to do: he’s hurt her.

 “Good morning, sleepy head.” She yawns, the teasing words muffled. “It seems like we overslept.”

 His mouth goes dry, and all he can manage to choke out is a simple, “Yeah.”

 She frowns, sitting up slightly, and lets out a small groan. “You alright there, Bucky? You look a little off.” The late morning light only serves to highlight more marks he’s left, this time on her shoulders, neck, and breasts. Stubble burn. Hickeys. Why the hell was he so rough? At the time, he thought he was being gentle, but obviously he’s just as much of a monster as Bucky Barnes as he is once the Winter Soldier takes over.

 She’s still staring at him, brow furrowing in concern.

 “Fine.” He clears his throat and begins to sit up. “Stay here. I’ll make you a cup of tea, maybe some oatmeal.”

 “Alright. Don’t be gone too long.”

 Her words follow him out of the room, and into the kitchen. Fuck. He should’ve known better. 

Maybe once upon a time, he was a decent man, one who could be with a woman like  her and not do her a disservice. But now, it’s clear that he falls short in every way. In an act that was supposed to be pure pleasure, a way of communicating how much they mean to each other, he’s hurt her.

 “I trust you.” The words from last night ring in his ears. He shouldn’t have let her. It’s pretty damn obvious that, even at the best of times, he can’t be trusted.

 “Tell me what’s going on.” Even with his enhanced senses, he still jumps in surprise as the unexpected words come from behind him. He turns around slowly, not wanting to startle her. She’s standing there, clad in only one of his shirts, arms crossed over her chest (now bearing his marks), staring him down.

 “Nothing.” He shakes his head.

 “Bullshit. I had a vision of you staring off into space, and here you are, jumpy as a long-tailed cat in a room full of rocking chairs.” At another time, her choice in phrases would make him chuckle, but right now, he can’t muster it.

 “Last night-” Her eyes widen, but she stays silent. “I hurt you.”

 “No, you didn’t. Not at all.”

 “I did.”

 She frowns. “Bucky, I think I’d know if you’d hurt me, and I’m telling you, I’m fine.”

 “Doll, look at yourself!” He reaches out to take her arm, but immediately freezes. “Go in the bathroom and take off your shirt. Take a good look in the mirror and then tell me I didn’t hurt you.”

 “Alright.” Her jaw clenches, and she marches off in the direction of the bathroom. A deep sickness gnaws at the pit of his stomach and, completely worn out, he sinks into a kitchen chair.

 Not thirty seconds pass before she walks back into the room, this time completely undressed.

 “Tell me you’re not talking about a few love bites.”

 “And bruises! You may not have noticed, but they’re in the exact shape of my fingertips.”

 “Oh my god!” She shakes her head. “It’s a sex injury. A minor one at that! If you didn’t heal so damn fast, you’d probably have nail marks all over your back!”

 “That’s not the same thing.”

 “How is it not the same thing?”

 “I’m a monster! And you’re not.”

 She takes a determined step towards him, and he leans as far back as the chair will allow.

 “Bucky, you are not a monster, and I am not afraid of you.”

 “Then you’re stupid.” He hates himself for his sharp words, but she needs to take this seriously. Underestimating how dark, how evil he can be, is a mistake. A deadly one.

 “Hey!”

 “Don’t you get it?” Without any input from his brain, he stands. “They could find me, and with a few words, I could stare you dead in the eyes as I murdered you! If you were my mission, I wouldn’t even hesitate, and you’d be dead before your body hit the floor!” Her mouth falls open, but she immediately closes it again. “This isn’t something that can be worked through with some patience and a positive attitude! I could kill you!”

 “So could a million other things!” Her voice rises in volume, and before he can contain it-

 “But they’re not in the bed sleeping next to you!” He’s shouting at her. God. Everyone is right. He’s beyond saving.

 A few tense seconds pass before she looks up at him, a steely look in her eyes.

 “Look, I get it. I know what you could do to me.” As she speaks, she pulls out a chair and sits. “But I could also get run over when I cross the road, or the room could fill with carbon monoxide while I sleep. I could have an aneurysm and drop before anyone knows what’s happening.”

 He opens his mouth to tell her the likelihood of any of those things happening is far lower than the chance that he’ll hurt her, this time in a major way, but she holds up a hand, silencing him.

 “I’m gonna be cautious, but I’m also not going to live my life in fear that the ceiling is going to collapse or nuclear war is going to strike, or that someone is gonna turn up and say the magic words that make you go cuckoo for cocoa puffs-” What? “-and I just realized you’re too old for that reference.”

 “That’s another thing-” He’s about to remind her exactly how big their age gap is, that although he’s physically close to her age, chronologically, he’s closer to the age of her great grandfather, but she lets out a sudden groan of frustration, and that makes him bite his tongue.

 “Oh, fuck off, Barnes! If you’re about to start in on how you’re too old for me, then I’m not gonna wait for you to go full Winter Soldier before I kick your ass!” Out of all things, that’s what snaps him out of it, makes him feel like maybe, just maybe, there’s still a chance they can make the best of things.

 Smirking, he asks her,

 “You think you could kick my ass? Really?” It must be the breaking point for her too, because she snickers.

 “Of course. It’s the little bitches you have to watch out for.”  That’s it, he’s laughing, nearly doubled over, and from the looks of things, she’s in much the same state.

 “You’re something else, you know that?” He asks between stilted breaths.

 “I think we both fit in that category, Pal.” Her smile fades, but only slightly. “Bucky, if you really want me to go, if that’s what’ll give you peace, then I’ll do it, but I meant what I said. I trust you.” Never. He’ll never want her to go, he’s sure of it. Well then, that only leaves one option.

 “I know what we’re doing today.” It’s an abrupt segue, but it’s the only thing he could come up with on short notice.

 “And what’s that?”  The microwave dings, reminding him that he needs to stir the oatmeal, and he pushes past her.

 “Sit down and have your tea. You’re going to need all your energy if I’m gonna show you how to use a gun.” If she’s staying, then at least he can teach her how to defend herself beyond the basics she already knows.

 “So I guess this means you’re keeping me around for a little while longer?” It’s spoken like a joke, but he turns to her, meeting her eyes to drive the point home.

 “Yeah, Doll. As long as you want me."

[pompompurin1028]

Ok, I just finished "The Setting Sun" and wow I may have read a little too fast towards the end because I was so excited and eager to finish but I'm very much in awe of the whole novel. I hope you don't mind if I just put down my thoughts about it :')

Ig I should put a SPOILER WARNING and obviously, there's:

TW: Mentions of suicide

First off, my opinions of the main cast:

I honestly had very neutral feelings towards Naoji in the beginning but shortly after his suicide and his note to Kazuko I felt that I understood him a lot more. Maybe it was partly because the story took place in Kazuko's POV that I had a more discontented viewpoint of him but afterward I felt I understood him more as a person.

With Kazuko, I personally liked her character and the fact that she didn't seem like she was written to be the "perfect woman" like I've seen in some novels. She has flaws and I think her love for her mother is something I found interesting. Although towards the end, I felt that her love for Mr. Uehara sort of anchored her down.

Kazuko and Naoji's Mother was honestly my favorite character of the whole series. I adored her from start to finish. All the way from when she was first introduced she had a sophisticated and genuinely kind aura and when she died I honestly felt a little part of me die as well, haha. But her last line in the book: "It must have been a terrible rush for you" pulled my heartstrings a lot.

Secondly, I just wanted to ramble about some of my favorite quotes from the book lol

The first quote I highlighted was a line Kazuko says: "...The ones who die are always the gentle, sweet, and beautiful people." Which honestly felt so Dazai-like. In both the case of Dazai-sensei and the BSD version of him. There were so many times I wondered if it was the character speaking or Dazai-sensei himself adding himself into the character.

Another one I liked was "I wonder how it would be if I let go and yielded myself to depravity." I don't really have a comment on it, I just sort of liked it lol.

I highlighted so many in all honesty but I also wanted to point out this one: "The dying are beautiful, but to live, to survive--those things somehow seem hideous and contaminated with blood." Again, it just seemed so beautifully raw and just something I envision BSD Dazai saying and believing as well.

In Naoji's suicide note I almost felt as though it was coming from not just him but from Dazai-sensei as well. Which I'm beginning to see is a recurring pattern in the novel. In particular, this one line stood out to me: "Why must I go on living after what has happened? It's useless. I am going to die. I have a poison that kills without pain. I got it when I was a soldier and have kept it ever since."

I loved the Snake Metaphors(?) throughout the story. And especially Kazuko and Naoji's POV of their mother and how they call her "the last lady of Japan" I think they truly honor her and it's interesting to see such two somewhat lost and "tainted" characters almost obsess over this "light" and genuinely kind woman they hold in such high regard. It almost reminds me of BSD Dazai's opinion of Odasaku or even Atsushi.

That's mostly it- I just really wanted to talk about those things and overall I loved it a lot. It's been a while since I've been so absorbed in a book so reading it felt very relaxing and at the same time so riveting. I hope you don't mind me popping into your inbox and chattering on about this :')

Okay, before I begin, Ariel please don't apologize for putting down your thoughts here. I love discussing Dazai-sensei's novels, and I can't even begin to express how giddy, excited and overjoyed I am to receive this ask of yours. And please if you would ever like to discuss more of his works, feel free to chat with me as well, via asks or on discord it doesn't matter😭❤, I'm always down for it. And this whole thing is me rambling over this so please bear with me haha.

And, I want to say, I was extremely eager to read and finish the novel as well as I continued on reading. It is strangely alluring and compelling. And honestly, I tend to be in awe of Dazai-sensei's thoughts and writing as well😫💕.

Okay, so before I begin to address your thoughts on the novel. Let me write down some background information on the novel to hopefully give you maybe a better understanding of it and Dazai-sensei as well?

The book was published in 1947, not long after the end of the Second World War which ended in 1945. The book in general talks about the state of Japan after the Second World War, and the decline of the aristocracy that came with it. (It should be noted that Dazai-sensei came from an aristocratic background as well, but he also seems to have a sense of shame towards it). The title of the book is literally a metaphor for the decline of Japan. Japan is often known as the "land of the rising Sun", and therefore "The Setting Sun" as the title is fitting for this theme.

And well, this defeat created according to here (an article written in Chinese unfortunately😥) caused a great change in moral values in the Japanese society, which caused an uproar for democracy. Dazai-sensei, however, was quite critical of this, as he sees this as a sign that the Japanese do not feel any guilt or remorse for their actions in the war that took place. (From what I've read Dazai-sensei in his works is very much known for his sense, albeit unusual for Japanese writers from what I read, of guilt, remorse and in a sense seeking for atonement, in one of his prose he even wrote that he writes literature for "remorse, confession and reflection" [my translation from my native language]).

Also, it should be noted that The Setting Sun is also deeply inspired by a diary written by one of Dazai-sensei's lovers (especially chapters 1 to 5 I believe). However, Dazai-sensei himself is best known for his I-novels and their semi-biographical elements. In one of his short stories, or prose in his book I am reading, he confesses that he cannot write things he doesn't know or hadn't felt for himself...

Now onto your thoughts on the novel!

Naoji, I honestly felt the same about him at first, but the more I dove into the novel, especially in the chapters Moonflowers and his note to Kuzuko, I felt more connected to him. And when I read the novel I felt as though Dazai-sensei had actually reflected a part of himself in Naoji, and I read something from what @/bsd-bibliophile had said which confirmed that perhaps Naoji was in a sense an extension of Dazai-sensei himself. (Same for Mr. Uehara I should note, who is also an extension of Dazai-sensei, which I had also noted as well when reading the novel).

And yes! I loved Kuzuko as well, and I have to agree with your statement about her love for Mr. Uehara. I was somewhat disappointed with that as well. But I actually had just been reading on something today which is a bit interesting. However, I do not know enough on the topic yet, nor am I entirely confident at myself explaining it at the moment, but I will talk about it briefly down here.

CW Religious Mentions [Christianity] (Feel free to skip if it makes you uncomfortable <3 For this is simply for literature analysis uses)

Before I begin, I should note that Dazai-sensei is by no means a "religious person", many scholars do not believe so either. It was mentioned in a paper that he even holds a critical view of the Church. However, Dazai-sensei commonly mentions the Bible in well the prose of his that I am currently reading (which brought me to research this topic). It was written in some papers that I am reading that he simply understood the Bible through his own means and not what the Church says (perhaps he sees it as a piece of literature as well in a sense...). Some papers say that he formed his unique views of the need to find "atonement" for his own guilt due to this, which some say is not often seen in Japanese authors.

I'm getting off-topic, but what I'm trying to say is that some scholars say that that action by Kuzuko might've been an allusion in a sense. But what the paper was trying to say was that it was meant to be something powerful? But, personally, I'm not sure what I think of it, it might be a bit far-fetched. But I just wanted to make a note of it.

End of CW

And yes! I do agree I loved their mother as well. I loved how genuine and kind she was. I think she is my favourite too, but she also acted as a form of symbolism for the theme of the novel I believe, which I will talk about briefly later on.

"...The ones who die are always the gentle, sweet, and beautiful people."

I really liked this quote too actually! And yes, I can definitely see Dazai-sensei saying this... It is hard to tell which part is him confessing, but most of his work tends to have elements of his own feelings and thoughts. Personally, I think it might be Dazai-sensei himself speaking... But I'm not sure, but it should be noted that Dazai-sensei held the concept of "tenderness" in high esteem (other people have also mentioned it here).

And honestly, I get what you mean when you say you don't know what to say about it haha. Sometimes authors just put sentences and words together so beautifully.

And yes, I definitely understand that! I felt that as well, and as I said, Dazai-sensei seems to have put elements of himself into Naoji...

And ahh the snake metaphor! I read on it a bit before, and some say that it might've been symbolizing the decline of Japan/the aristocracy. And the use of the term "the last lady of Japan" seems to symbolize the fall of the old traditions of Japan. It had seemed to me that their mother was a symbol of the "old Japan" that had fallen after the war.

And yes, they do hold her in very high esteem! I wrote that in my analysis as well before! From what I have read, Dazai-sensei does seem to hold such people highly, especially those that are honest and genuine it seems. And yes, exactly, it reminds me of BSD Dazai as well T^T.

And please, thank you for coming over to chat with me about it haha. You could probably tell by how long this is how excited I am about such topics😅. Don't hesitate to come by if you want to chat more! And I'm also really glad that you liked the book as well <33

[luxshine]

The Great Supernatural Rewatch Project - Salvation

I started writting this in the middle of season 13 but RL and work and some mental health issues made me take a step back from fandom in general and well, I was also fearing this would be an unending job since the series JUST.KEPT. GOING.

However, now that the series is done (And omg, what a clusterfuck that was. My tallies are going to go insane if I get there) and thus there’s an ending in sight, I will do my best to finish season 1, and try and get the rest of the seasons in a more timely manner. Say, before they do the inevitable reunion and ignore the last episode completely.

(I’m going to be honest, part of the problem was that Supernatural used to be SO good back then, and when I see the new episodes I weep a bit inside. I can’t believe they were so much better at creating story arcs when they weren’t TRYING to create story arcs)

Of course, now we all know that Dean’s plots in general will not have a happy ending no matter what, and that makes that particular tally bittersweet. But there are STILL people who claim that nope, Dean was never mistreated by the writers and well, Jack damn it, I am not going to let that claim go without bringing numbers to the table. Hopefully, it won’t take me 15 years to finish (Because by then, I would be the only one caring I guess)

In any case, last lap for Season 1 and we begin with Salvation.

General stuff

A specific reason for me having rage quitted this episode in particular for so long: For some stupid copyright thing with Netflix, they don’t have Carry On My Wayward Son as the song for the final recap –at least in Netflix Latam. And Supernatural without Carry On My Wayward Son is no Supernatural. So I had to hunt my DVDs. Then my computer DVD player died. Then I decided to make 5 webcomics at the same time. THEN I decided to start doing illustration works, and three other projects and let’s just say I am a bit of a workaholic and leave it like that as the rest is not SPN-related.

Ahem.

Funny thing about the Road so Far –you know, besides being a LOT shorter than the ones we’re getting now- is that it focuses a lot more on DEAN at the beginning, while if you watch the show, well, we know most of those Dean scenes come from MoW episodes and not the actual mytharc. Another interesting thing is that if one believes those things to be chronological, it makes it as if the Colt had been with the brothers for a lot longer than half an episode, and that Sam’s issue with the visions is not that recent. Edition Magic everyone! Also, omg, they were babies when the series started, and how WEIRD is to see John looking at them with pride and smiling at Dean at some points.

Anyway, the recap and the epicness that is Carry On my Wayward Son ends and we start the actual plot.

Hello Pastor Jim. Goodbye Pastor Jim. And here Supernatural begins the long, long tradition of killing characters who could’ve been useful later on, and more importantly, that could’ve been the boys’s support system later on. While here it’s understandable since we need to show how dangerous and vicious Meg is –ah, irony that in about 8 seasons people will be rooting for her Redemption- it also makes the Hunters kind of useless. I mean, he has all that weaponry and only uses a knife? Sigh. Really, a waste. Pastor Jim as a concept was really intriguing –and I don’t think we’ve heard of any other hunter who was also a priest. Funny, when we have so many demons free now. There’s also the fact that when Pastor Jim claims that she can’t be in the church because it’s hallowed ground, she replies that “That might work with the minor leagues, but not with her” and I wonder… did we ever got a demon that couldn’t enter a church? Because right now out of the top of my head I can’t remember, and yet Pastor Jim was surprised but later no one seems to think it weird there were signs of demonic activity around his body. Another sign that, as engaging as the series was, once we start digging the world building, things fall apart very quickly.

Actually, if I may digress for a bit, here we have the very first look at Supernatural´s second biggest problem: killing support characters that may have been useful lately. Here it is because Kirkpe had this weird idea that Hunting would never be glamorized by the show/fandom and it would be a completely miserable and lonely existence. He also didn’t think that the series would survive past season 2. So, ok, killing the guy we only knew by throw away lines didn’t seem so bad. By season 13 every single recurring character had died at least once –and there were petitions to bring back I think every one of those who haven’t come back- it’s a big problem.

As I restarted writing, I also realized that the mere existence of Pastor Jim and his room of awesome research and weapons creates a problem in the future about the Men of Letters because… ok, so ONE member of the clerigy knew enough about demons and stuff to be a hunter and have THE Hunter as his main contact (John Winchester was sort of a legend back then. And he had also fell out of contact with many others so the fact that he and Pastor Jim were still friendly? Kind of interesting), but what about the rest? Did the Vatican have any contact with the British men of Letters or the American ones? And if so, what the hell did they think when suddenly ALL the Men of Letters disappeared? Ok, so that’s a lot of stuff that doesn’t matter right now as it won’t actually exist until much, much, MUCH latter, but see what I mean when I say that they didn’t plan anything and the lack of a series bible hurts the show more than it helped it thrive? I am realizing right now I could write a whole treaty on the Men of Letters and their non-relationship with hunters ONLY using this cold beginning and the Henry Winchester episode.

But this is not the time for that, so we get our title card and a very, VERY young Jeffrey Dean Morgan.

We move to John who is explaining off camera everything he knows about Yellow Eye´s plan. We can tell it´s not much as he thinks it came out of hibernation and that the whole attacking families is part of a cycle, but back then it was impressive how much he had managed to find out about this demon. We also know that it attacks exactly when the baby in the house is six months old, which brings us to this little jewel:

JOHN It starts in Arizona, then New Jersey, California. Houses burned down to the ground. It's going after families, just like it went after us.

SAM Families with infants?

JOHN Yeah. The night of the kid's six-month birthday. 

SAM I was six months old that night?

JOHN Exactly six months.

SAM So basically, this demon is going after these kids for some reason. The same way it came for me? So Mom's death...Jessica. It's all because of me?

DEAN We don't know that Sam.

SAM Oh really? Cause I'd say we're pretty damn sure Dean.

DEAN For the last time, what happened to them was not your fault. 

SAM Right. It's not my fault but it's my problem.

DEAN No it's not your problem it's our problem!

 Now, in the following seasons we will know that yes, it was ALL about Sam. But right now, the characters and the viewers don´t know that. We know that a lot of families were killed by the demon (That at this point was still “The demon” and wouldn´t become Azazael until later), and that he doesn´t take the children. So… how did Sam leap from “this demon attacks families with 6 month old children” to “It´s all about ME!”? He even ignores that Dean and John lost Mary for his last line, when he decides it´s his problem and not their problem. Also, and this is important for the “Dean is the most awful person to Sam” crowd… Dean immediately tells Sam that no, it´s not his fault. While he could harbor some ill feelings against Sam –and demon Dean, 8 seasons later, will voice them- at this point he is 100% on Sam´s side. There’s also a sideway glance from John to DEAN when Sam claims that everything is about him, and then I wonder exactly why, if John knew all about the fact that the demon chased six month old children specifically, he never resented Sam over it. One would think that given John’s love for Mary and deep desire to revenge, Sam would really be the outcast and the one only treated like a soldier (as he claims he was, but not really as we’ve seen), instead of Dean who was completely blameless in the whole thing.

(Also, this is the first time we see that Azazael´s plan didn´t make much sense IF we believed that Kirkpe had everything planned. But that´s a discussion for another time)

Anyway, John interrupts the argument to explain that while he has no idea what the demon is after (Another thing that later would be contradicted as he knew Sam had powers), but that he has managed to figure out his pattern of attack to the point that it even repeated it for Jessica’s killing (Even if much, much later, we’ll learn that it wasn’t Azazael the one who killed her, and Demons would completely forego the signs when attacking. Have I mentioned I miss the times when the myths made sense?) and the three of them pack up for their first real hunt together as they decide they will save the next baby on the demon’s list, in a town named Salvation.

Important thing to note: when John recites the demon signs, Dean immediately replies “that happened in Lawerence”. He remembers, quite clearly, what happened a week before his mother died even if logistically, at his age? He wouldn’t care nor notice. Sure, he remembers his mom’s death because that was traumatic. But random cow deaths before that? Weird show.

If Sam noticed or not the signs before Jessica died, we don’t know. John is the one who points out they happened.

After two gorgeous road shots where we see John’s truck being followed by Baby (yet another thing we lost, John’s truck. I know we needed to have the guys together all the time, but man, if Sam had inherited it, they would’ve been able to cover more terrain at times, have double the arsenal and maybe not being identified by everyone and their leviathan in season 7, but I digress), and just entering Salvation John stops, obviously spooked by something. As Dean stops behind him, they find out that Pastor Jim is dead, and John got a call from another hunter named Caleb to tell him. They assume it may be the demon they’re chasing, or maybe another demon that was looking for Pastor Jim specifically but that last theory is not very probable.

Here I have to pause to applaud Jeffrey Dean Morgan’s acting, as you can practically FEEL John’s despair at knowing an old friend of him died, and that HE was probably the cause for that death. A Winchester trait, of course, blaming themselves for everything bad that happens in their world, but unlike Sam’s early outburst, here it seems far more desperate. Of course, JDM had a lot more experience than Jared at that point, but I really wanted to make a note of it because we lost a LOT of that characterization for John, where he actually WORRIED about people and not just the hunt. Even as he decides the plan for finding out what baby the demon will take in a week, we can see him broken and confused. So much that while Sam calls him “sir” when receiving orders, Dean continues the conversation by calling him “Dad”.

John then declares that this ends now, obviously feeling responsible for what happened to his friend. A long shot from the flanderized man we’d hear about in future seasons who was infamous for letting his hunting partners die without so much as a second glance.

Also, and not to be mean to the writers, but in their endless accidentally making Sam unsympathetic, they made him say that there were too many children in the county that could be a victim and that it would take forever to check all of them. While I KNOW the intent was to make clear that they had a deadline of one week, it comes out weirdly as “I don’t want to do the footwork.” Seriously, writers should be careful with that.

Actually, let’s dissect that. Because I just thought of two ways they could’ve fixed it AND give us more info.

JOHN Now we act like every second counts. There's two hospitals and a health centre in this county. We split up, cover more ground. I want records. I want a list of every infant that's going to be six months old in the next week.

SAM Dad that could be dozens of kids. How do we know which one's the right one?

JOHN We check em all that's how. You got any better ideas?

SAM No sir.

So, first way to make Sam not look that bad: Give the line to Dean. I wouldn’t like it specially, but hey, he’s the sidekick, not the hero, and so far he has only wanted to bail on ONE hunt because he wasn’t sure it was a supernatural hunt so he’d be better standing than Sam in that regard.

Second way: Make Sam say that YES, he has a better idea. Because the brothers ALREADY faced Max, so he could say they could look for a baby that was a bit “strange”, like, with poltergeist stuff going around. John could not believe him, but at least Sam would be being proactive.

In any case, they separate as John planned and we see each of them get into the hospital records. We get a glimpse of John’s collection of fake IDs, that include one for a Morgue forensic doctor, then Sam getting a homely nurse giving him files and him taking notes, and Dean… getting flirty with a very hot nurse.

And I make a point of the “Oh, look, Dean is an irresponsible womanizer” trope because once again the writers shoot themselves in the foot by showing the opposite of what they were telling (And no, this time I can’t blame it on Jensen’s acting and refusal to look at his female co-stars without respect).

WOMAN Hi. Is there anything I can do for you?

DEAN (smiling) Oh God yes.

She smiles and looks down.

DEAN (Holding up his ID) Only I'm uh....working right now, so...

The writers here make us remember that a) Dean is AMAZINGLY charismatic, as the woman IS flattered and seems interested, and b) That he will NOT dump his work for a quickie. We don’t even get a “maybe later” that could make him look as if he was really into her. It’s just that he flirts naturally, or at least, this is what we can infer now, as so far he hasn’t had any one night stand fling. The one time we saw him have a sexual encounter in the middle of a hunt was with an ex-girlfriend.

And again I have to wonder what was Sera Gamble’s intention with those scenes as yes, this was written by the same team as Faith, another episode where Sam’s good intentions tend to have a darker side, and gave Dean some amazingly cool scenes.

We don’t know what Dean says to the woman, as we cut back to Sam, coming out of the hospital just in time to have a very convenient vision of a woman, a nursery and a fire. Thankfully, the vision also comes with the useful audio hint of a train passing by, so Sam gets out his map and starts checking where that could be, which leads him to the house in his vision.

And by this point, we know we’re in the right track and this is an important Myth Arc episode, because Sam only has multiple visions in Myth Arc episodes, and he has one the moment he steps in front of the house in said vision. The gods of convenience smile upon him as right then and there a woman pushing a pram comes by, and he manages to talk to her, all friendly like by pretending to having just moved. Then Sam learns the woman’s name is Monica, her baby is Rosie, and Rosie is just six months old, exactly to the day.

Also, that she’s a very quiet baby and that it sometimes seems as if she was reading your mind. Oh, and that Monica really is blind to suspicious men asking her about her family with a face that reads “Oh shit, this is bad”.

Now, HERE is where the whole “five year myth arc” story falls completely. I mean, we already knew it was pretty unlikely it was real, given Kirkpe’s original interviews, but the mere existence of Rosie contradicts every single future story beat. Because if SHE has powers before Azazael goes into her house, then it means that the babies he was hunting didn’t get powers because of him, just that his blood either connected them (hence Sam’s very specific visions), made said powers far more powerful (quite likely), or made them a little bit more prone to violence/prideful behavior. All of those possibilities match with the plan of “raising” a new King or Queen of Hell, that would be faithful to Azazael, but are a bit iffy on the “finding Lucifer’s vessel” thing. Especially since we later learn that the Angels were also helping, and all Hell knew that Lucifer’s vessel HAD to come from the Winchester/Campbell bloodline due to Cain and Abel being the roots of said bloodline, and later pretty much everyone knew Sam was Lucifer’s vessel so the whole targeting a ton of kids, in particular after Mary’s death, is kinda weird.

Oh, Lux, you will say, it is because he wanted to hide his true intentions! No one knew that Sam had been feed demon blood!

Except that the important parties, namely Heaven and Hell, did. Michael had Heaven convinced of his orders, so even if a rogue angel found out that they were speed running the Apocalypse, said angel could be killed. And any demon who was against getting Lucifer back on top would be smart enough to keep quiet so, why the secrecy?

And again, ok, I buy the original demon blood kids being important to “hide” Lucifer’s vessel but… Rosie? What good would it do to Azazael’s plan to have a psychic 4 year old when Lucifer rose? Was “little four year old girl” a good match against a grown up hunter? What was Azazel thinking, if that was the plan all the time?

Now, I want to make clear this doesn’t make THIS episode or the Season-myth arc bad. This original “Boy King of Hell” storyline WAS good. It had a lot of potential, made sense for Sam and since it was before the days of the eternal “What is wrong with Sam?” seasons, there was no boredom of a repeat. It also set a very good question of what made a monster a monster, which would be explored a bit more in Season 2. And it was long before we realized Dean having a myth arc was a pipe dream, so there was no issue there either. It made sense.

But the fact that the writers kind of forgot about everything I just pointed out with Rosie’s scene to try and weld this to the “Heaven vs. Hell” storyline in season 4, and then just promptly forgot because Sam’s powers were then firmly connected to Azazael’s blood so they never came up again and even worse, we never find another psychic kid that could’ve been feed blood by Azazael THIS year that John was chasing him? (Since we know there were no other survivors from Sam’s generation, and later we have a scene that proves that there were no previous generations to Sam’s), it's kind of weird. Personally, I dunno about you, but maybe a return to this storyline in season 6 would’ve been a lot better than we got. Maybe.

By the way, I am not counting the Boy King of Hell story arc as a dropped plot for Sam yet, as we’re going to keep with this at least until season 3. Yes, now we know it didn’t go anywhere, but at the time, and for these episodes in particular, it was THE myth arc of Supernatural. So it can’t be counted as dropped plot yet.

In any case, Sam goes and tells John and Dean about his vision and… oh, boy do we have to move John’s reaction to Emotional Violence.

It’s not good.

But before he can do more damage to Dean’s psyche, Sam gets a call from our favorite demon, Meg. Even if he doesn’t recognize her voice immediately which is weird because a) he did throw her off a window and one would think that makes a girl memorable, and b) it’s not as he knows that many girls who would call him, despite Dean’s best efforts to get him a new girl.

Meg dismisses Sam and asks for John. She makes clear that she is not playing, that she knows he has the Colt and that he will kill every single person who has ever helped John unless he gives it to her that same day at midnight. And to the brothers’ surprise, John accepts those terms (Unfortunately not before we loss Caleb too. I have a lot less interest in Caleb as a character given that he has exactly half a line in the whole show, but it’s still it’s sad to see a guy so defiant even in the face of death go so soon).

Meg also points out that John having the Colt is a “declaration of war” which is interesting as it sort of implies that if he hadn’t gotten it, then the demons would leave him and the brothers alone. And I find that incredibly funny since… no they won’t. And Azazael would’ve been ok if Sam kept the gun anyway, given why they really wanted and once again I am putting holes on the idea that this was planned from the start, aren’t I?

In any case, John declares that Meg is a demon “or is possessed by one” which… ok? First and only time we get the possibility of a demon not using a meat suit. I don’t think this is a mistake, because after all, this is back before the guys faced demons in a normal basis so they could believe that they had their own bodies besides the ones they possessed (And, more importantly, before there was a retcon that made the brothers face and know about demons since pretty much ever). To be completely fair, as much as I love Jimmy and the whole Lucifer arc once it started to make sense… I would’ve been ok if vessels weren’t needed. It added a lot of complications and ended up making the brothers actual serial killers.

Ahem.

After that little gem of wisdom that will be ignored forever, John declares that he will be taking the gun to Meg to avoid more killing and we get another questionable line for Sam. And I am curious as to how to tally it as it’s the opposite of him wanting to leave the hunt, but it’s not that nice either:

DEAN What do we do?

JOHN I'm going to Lincoln. DEAN What? JOHN It doesn't look lilke we have a choice. If I don't go, a lot of people die, our friends die.

SAM Dad, the demon is coming tonight. For Monica and her family. That gun is all we got, you can't just hand it over.

I mean, yes, it is true that the demon is coming for Monica (Well, actually, he’s coming for Rosie, the baby, but I will let that slip pass. Sam is not interested in married ladies), and that with the gun they can kill the demon but it’s not all they’ve got. By this time, Sam has already had his big hero moment when he exorcised a plane in free fall so they could do that, then chase the demon again and then kill it.

But what is jarring is how he hears “a lot of people die, OUR FRIENDS die” and he goes “yeah, whatever, we have a mission to fulfill”.

Which is precisely what later episodes will tell us John used to do, and was the reason why John was not exactly liked by the general hunter population. And at the same time, it’s an eerie reminder of Wendigo, where Sam is willing to let innocents die (his family friends, in this particular case, just as he heard Caleb choke on his own blood) in order to get his way (revenge on the demon that killed Jess. NOT revenge on the demon that killed his mom, since at this point, Sam is still on the “I never knew that woman” train of thought).

Sure, his mind is in the hunt, and that’s commendable because yes, in the long run, killing Azazael would save more innocents (And probably stop the Apocalypse, not that Sam or the writers at that time know it), but it is still strange to see our nominal hero simply not care for his friends’ lives. I mean, at this point WE don’t know about Bobby, so the closest to a parental figure that is not John that Sam had was Pastor Jim and he just DIED.

Worst part is, this could be solved really easy: Just have DEAN be the one who voices the complaint, and have “empathic” Sam mumble that there has to be a way to save everyone (Which, of course, John will mention in a second). It would make Dean look bad, sure, but we’ve been told once and again that Dean never, EVER goes against John plans. Which… not true, ut we will talk about that later. The scene continues, and John declares that he will go to Meg alone, with a fake Colt and while Dean thinks that that won’t work, Sam has a different complaint:

DEAN Yeah but for how long? What happens when she figures it out?

JOHN I just...I just need to buy a few hours, that's all.

SAM You mean for Dean and me. You want us to stay here, and kill this demon by ourselves?

JOHN No Sam. I want to stop losing people we love. I want you to go to school, I want Dean to have a home. I want....I want Mary alive. It's just....I just want this to be over.

And oh, boy. Do this four lines again hold so much weight.

First, once again, Dean seems to be worried for John (logically, he’s their dad), while Sam is making the weirdest line in the universe sort of work because he’s complaining that John is trusting them to kill the demon, something HE wants to do and not four seconds ago was saying they had to do, as if it was John shifting HIS job to Sam. Seriously, I don’t want to think the worst of Sam but when you take out Jared’s acting, the text doesn’t do the younger Winchester’s any favors.

And finally… John’s lines that encompass pretty much Dean’s philosophy in the following seasons. “I want to stop losing people we love” is pretty telling, but what comes next? He actually WANTS Sam to go back to college and not worry about the Supernatural. He actively agrees that Dean doesn’t have a home, and WANTS Dean to have one. It’s as close as love as we’ll see from John to Dean in Season 1, and it hurts. It hurts because we can tell he knows he won’t be there to see it… and now, in hindsight with the finale having aired, we also know Dean didn’t get that. (And to be fair, this is the John who did deserve Heaven. Not the flanderized version we’d get in the future)

Although, ironically, Mary got to be alive again, so… One out of three?

(No, seriously, it’s obvious the writers didn’t even remember this speech when Season 12 hit, much less Season 15)

Ahem.

Dean is sent to get a fake Colt, while Sam and John wait for him. If they talked about anything, we don’t know, but when they exchange guns, Dean voices what we all know is true:

DEAN You know this is a trap don't you. That's why Meg wants you to come alone?

JOHN I can handle her. I got a whole arsenal loaded. Holy water, Mandaic, amulets...

DEAN Dad... JOHN What? DEAN Promise me something. JOHN What's that. DEAN This thing goes south just...get the hell out. Don't get yourself killed all right, you're no good to us dead. JOHN Same goes for you. (There is a long pause) All right listen to me. They made the bullets special for this colt. There's only four of them left. Without them this gun is useless. You make every shot count.

SAM Yes sir.

JOHN Been waiting a long time for this fight. Now it's here I'm not gonna be in it. It's up to you boys now. It's your fight, you finish this. You finish what I started. Understand?

 Again, I wish they remembered all they had to get rid of demons before, you know, killing everyone willy-nilly. I mean, I don’t even think I know what Mandalac IS but hey, John says it works, it works. And once more, Dean gets a line that makes clear he is the empathic, loving brother, when it wouldn’t have hurt Sam to say it. In fact, it would make clear that no matter what, he doesn’t hate John. But nope, Sam only acts like the soldier we’re TOLD Dean is, while Dean makes clear that for him, family is more important than revenge (And boy will that come to bite him in the ass later, not in the series, but in this same episode).

Also, I have to admit. When I started this rewatch, John’s final line was just a good moment for John to start letting go of his anger. Now? After that horrid finale? It hurts so, so much. But it hurts more because I KNOW that there’s no way it was intentional. Obviously, Kirkpe didn’t know the series would last 15 years, and I highly doubt Dabb remembered this scene when writing 15x20. But even so, it ends up being Dean’s epitaph. OUCH.

In any case, the Winchester separate again, and we go into act three. Get ready for the feels.

John Winchester hunting alone is a thing of beauty. Seeing him scope the place, check the water tank and immediately think of a plan? Makes me wish Jeffrey Dean Morgan had stayed longer on the show. Sure, John became an asshole, but in this episode he’s still not that bad, we still have no episodes that make clear he didn’t care for Dean, and wasn’t textually abusive. And I am willing to bet that if JDM had stayed, John would’ve evolved more to be a Bobby-like character. But well, What ifs is not why you came to this meta for.

As John is hunting, the brothers are staking out the house were they know Azazael will attack. And while they talk and decide that they have no way to get the family out (In a nice callback to how none of their excuses ever work) we get to this little gem of an exchange:

SAM I wonder how Dad's doing.

DEAN I'd feel a lot better if we were there backing him up.

SAM I'd feel a lot better if he were here backing us up.

Where once again we see where the brother’s priorities lie, and I wonder why the hell the writers ever thought they were writing Sam as an empathic character.

Because yes, Dean is wishing he could be out there helping his Dad, proving that for him, it has always been about the family. Not the hunting, but the protecting. But Sam doesn’t want to protect John. He wants John protecting Them. And helping them in the revenge hunt, not trying to save others.

Sure, we know the brothers are there to save an innocent mother, but John is also saving a ton of hunters and people who, in the past, were nice and open to the family. And it would’ve been so much easier to make Sam look better if he instead had said “I’d feel a lot better if we hadn’t had to separate” or something like that, that proved he saw BOTH missions were important.

Seriously, I do wonder why the writers made these choices, and I wish someone had asked this at cons.

We go back to John, who, really, Is an amazing hunter even if he is a horrible father. Also, I wonder if he got ordained at a web church, in order to be able to sanctify water. That would be such a John Winchester thing to do, and I do wonder why the boys never did it too. ANYWAY, he hands the gun to Meg, and to her ally that came so that we could have a scene to prove the Colt is fake as the ally shoots Meg.

As John says, Meg was lucky the gun was fake. And once again, I do wonder what the plan was if it WAS the Colt. I mean, Meg was Azazael’s second in command. Why would nameless demon risk killing her? Or did he kinow the gun was fake?

In any case, this makes the moment where we can be 100% sure that Meg’s meat suit 1.0 was dead. I mean, she could’ve survived the fall in Shadow, but a bullet to the chest? No way.

We go back to the brothers, and Sam breaks every single law of a procedural show by giving this great speech about how thankful he is to Dean for everything, and how he needs to say that “in case” something happened.

Dean is definitely not impressed and reminds him that the only one dying today is Azazael.

As we see John temporarily escape from Meg and her muscle boy, we go back to the brothers who see the demon omens start up so they get ready for the final fight.

The brothers manage to save Monica and her baby, despite the very understandable interference from Hubbard, the husband (I mean, you would not react nicely to two strangers intruding in your house and yelling to your wife to not go into the nursery room), however, before Sam can shoot Azazel, he disappears into smoke (A really interesting question here is, WHY did Sam wait to shoot and then wasted a bullet, but I digress).

Going completely against M.O, Azazael makes the CRIB burst into flames, but fortunately Dean has already gotten Rosie out of it so the brothers escape the flaming house. While Monica cries her thanks, Sam notices that Azazael is still inside, and tries to go after him, but Dean stops him because he is not going to lose his brother to the fire. By the way, I am not counting “Dean stopping Sam from going into a burning building” as “Dean forcing Sam to do something” since, uh, he was saving Sam’s life and it’s something anyone in Dean’s place would’ve done.

At the same time, we see John getting captured by Meg and her muscle boy because he didn’t think about getting a third escape route (But honestly? That was pretty much a plot necessity. John was HEAVILY prepared for that fight)

Back in the hotel, Dean is worried that John is not answering his calls, while Sam is furious that Dean didn’t let him kill himself by running into a burning house. They have a nasty fight that mirrors the one they had back in the pilot, but since it IS a fight between the brothers, you know the drill. We’re examining it under Violence.

Once Sam calms down, he tells Dean to try calling John again. Unfortunately, it’s Meg who answers and she tells Dean that they’re never seeing their dad again.

And we get the first “To be continued” for the series (Which to be honest, despite all the little continuity mistakes I mentioned here? Is still pretty epic)

Violence

Well, we had to run out of episodes where the brothers don’t fight each other at some point, didn’t we?

This fight, over Sam wanting to kill himself in his search for revenge, is a very neat parallel to the fight they had back in the Pilot, over Sam NOT wanting to even involve himself in the family’s search for revenge. Which I know it’s supposed to be ironic and a show of character growth since now Dean is the one saying that revenge is not worth their lives but… it falls a little bit flat because the reason why Sam is so gung-ho in killing Azazael is, once again, a very selfish one and the way in he expresses it makes it quite clear. (Again, I do wonder if the writers stopped to think about the implications of Sam only getting really into hunting when it was about him or his losses?)

But let’s start at the beginning:

SAM If you had just let me go in there, I coulda ended all this.

DEAN Sam, the only thing you would have ended was your life.

SAM You don't know that.

DEAN So what, you're just willing to sacrifice yourself, is that it?

SAM Yeah. Yeah you're damn right I am.

DEAN Well that's not going to happen, not as long as I'm around.

This right here? Is a nice summary of the relationship of the brothers for the whole series. Sam wants to do something stupid, like, say, running into a burning building, Dean is there to stop him before he hurts himself.

Also, let’s make clear the use of first person by Sam. It’s not “We coulda ended this”, as in the family ending the hunt, but “I coulda ended this”. Again, at this point, not something that is a problem, but considering hindsight, we can see how the writers are completely invested in SAM as a sole main character, and write him as such, while Dean is more of the sidekick.

In any case, the argument continues, still not escalating to violence.

SAM What the hell are you talking about Dean, we've been searching for this demon our whole lives. It's the only thing we've ever cared about.

DEAN Sam I wanna waste it. I do. Okay? But it's not worth dying over.

SAM What?

DEAN I mean it. If hunting this demon means getting yourself killed then I hope we never find the damn thing.

Important thing how Sam apparently forgot he left for four (two) years and wanted out of the family business, now that he is angry and into the revenge thing. It’s not “You’ve been searching for this demon your whole life”, which would’ve been correct AND a logical counterargument against Dean. Before this episode, Sam was supposedly the brother who understood that revenge was a way of living, while Dean is the one who was Daddy’s little soldier. But here, when it actually would matter to the narrative, it is as if Sam’s wishes for a normal life are completely forgotten and it’s Dean the one who understands that there’s more to living than revenge (Which, btw, is consistent through the season despite everyone claiming that Dean needs Sam to keep hunting. All season, Dean has been giving Sam outs, telling him it’s ok to quit)

And of course, Dean here proves that Sam is more important to him than revenge for his mother, as he is willing to never get to kill the demon as long as his family, his brother in particular, survives.

Poor Dean.

SAM That thing killed Jess. That thing killed Mom.

DEAN You said yourself once, that no matter what we do, they're gone, and they're never coming back.

SAM Don't you say that, not you! Not after all this don't you say that.

DEAN Sam look. The three of us...that's all we have...and it's all I have. Sometimes I feel like I'm barely holding it together man...and without you or Dad....

Unfortunately, script doesn’t quiet convey the scene as there’s a LONG pause between “That thing killed Jess” and “That thing killed Mom”. Enough so that we can believe that Sam is using that second phrase not because he cares (in the Pilot he made clear he didn’t), but to make Dean get on board with the whole “I can kill myself if it means getting revenge” plan. In other words, once again, Sam is weaponizing Mary against Dean, and that is a really nasty habit the younger Winchester never quite shakes out of. Instead, Dean shows how he LISTENED to Sam back in the Pilot and repeats Sam’s words to him on the bridge.

Which is when Sam loses it and pushes Dean against a wall, Dean not defending himself at all, and yells that Dean has no right to say what Sam told Dean the very first hunt they had together after years of separation.

And of course, once Dean mentions their father, Sam starts calming down. NOT when Dean says that he’s barely holding it together, or that he only has them.   Just when he mentions their father who is, in Sam’s mind, the one who can help him get revenge.

The fight ends, but Sam never once apologizes for what he said to Dean, nor for the fight. Which, by the way, contradicts his claim that Dean “always has his back”.

Emotional Violence

Whenever we have John on an episode, we’re going to have to talk about emotional violence and I kind of hate that because on one hand, I get how John could’ve been a very tragic figure that loved his sons but still wanted to avenge his wife, and not being the abusive bastard we know and don’t love that much.

When Sam and Dean explain about Sam’s visions, and how they started as nightmares but have grown in intensity, his reaction is quite subdued, but clear. He is not happy, but the problem isn’t the visions –for a man obsessed with the supernatural, his outward reaction to his younger son being a psychic is quite calm- but that they didn’t inform him of what was going on:

JOHN All right. When were you going to tell me about this?

DEAN We didn't know what it meant.

JOHN All right, something like this starts happening to your brother, you pick up the phone and you call me.

DEAN dumps the coffee jug and cup back on the counter and strides toward JOHN.

DEAN Call you? Are you kidding me? Dad I called you from Lawrence all right? Sam called you when I was dying. I mean, getting you on the phone? I got a better chance of winning the lottery.

JOHN You're right. Although I'm not too crazy about this new tone of yours, you're right. I'm sorry.

And let’s be clear, John’s anger is not directed at Sam, it’s directed at Dean. “Something like this starts happening to your brother” is not “Something like this starts happening to either of you”. Which is also a show of how good an actor JOHN is in universe because WE know that he knew. Missouri TOLD him point blank that Sam was powerful and that he could have known that John was around during the Home episode. But here, he acts as if this was news to him when he could ALSO have told them what to expect if that happened. (Mind you, I am assuming that Sera Gamble knew or remembered about Home’s script when writing this and didn’t just forget or was unaware that John was supposed to know)

Now, all season, Sam has been complaining and yelling about how John doesn’t answer their calls, doesn’t seem to care what’s going on with them. So it’d be logical and in character for Sam to say something here. But instead is DEAN, Dad’s little soldier, the one we’ve SEEN obeying John without question finally have enough and talk back to his father with some truths. And it’s VERY interesting that his first complain is not that John didn’t care that Dean almost died, but that he didn’t reply when Dean called from Lawrence. One could almost infer that Dean expected John not to care if Dean died, but was honestly hurt that he didn’t care about a case that could’ve involved MARY.

John, surprisingly, sort of agrees. He does say “I’m sorry”, which makes him the Winchester who is quicker to say those words… but he still manages to make a threat against Dean “I am not too crazy about this NEW tone of yours”.

Making it clear that before? Dean never talked back. And John doesn’t like it when his soldiers talk back.

It makes it hard to believe John ever thought of Dean as his son and makes it very clear why Dean never understood Sam’s confidence that Dean was the favored one.

Speeches and Apologies

I considered not including this particular speech, but then I remembered that Supernatural is ALSO famous for their big emotional speeches, and this is Sam’s first, and also, Dean’s first time listening to someone he cares about give him the “I am saying goodbye because I am going kamikaze” speech and after all the drama in season 15, I guess it’s necessary to do some dissection.

It is important that despite all the things that Sam has done to Dean, the words “I’m sorry” are never uttered here.

SAM Dean...ah...I wanna thank you. DEAN For what? SAM For everything. You've always had my back you know? Even when I couldn't count on anyone I could always count on you. And ah...I don't know I just wanted to let you know, Just in case DEAN Whoa whoa whoa, are you kidding me? SAM What? DEAN Don't say just in case something happens to you. I don't wanna hear that freaking speech man. Nobody's dying tonight. Not us, not that family, nobody. Except that demon. That evil son of a bitch ain't getting any older than tonight, you understand me?

 This is not a bad “freaking speech”. I understand why Dean didn’t want to hear it, because it is like jinxing the mission (And, let’s be honest, it did), but it’s not a bad speech.

Except that, reading it again, it lacks one important part. Sure, Sam thanks Dean for always being there (Forgetting that, at least three times this season alone, he has accused Dean of not having his back and being unreliable. Which will ALSO be a constant theme in the series’s long run), but he never mentions the times HE did things that would be hard to back up. Which, again, I am not counting as a bad thing against him in this precise moment in time, since he is young, in his roaring roadtrip of revenge, and we’ve only know the brothers for a year, but it is the beginning of a series’ long crutch to make us forgive all of Sam’s sins without him actually doing the work to be forgiven.

On the other hand, it all goes to waste a bit later when Sam starts hitting Dean for the horrible sin of not letting him run into a burning building and kill himself so… it’s not really a “thank you for having my back” speech but a “You better remember, you never fight me and my choices are the best” speech in hindsight. Which… not good on Sam, no.

Double narrative standards

This episode is kind of balanced, except for that little moment where we’re supposed to think Dean is wrong for telling Sam that revenge is not worth their lives. So there’s not much to write in this particular segment.

Final Tally

Ok, back in the saddle. And after all that, I decided not to tally Sam’s little slip about not caring if their loved ones die as long as he gets to kill Azazael. Let me know if you disagree.

The count is still not good on Sam’s side, but as always, you are free to disagree with me, and dm me if you think I missed a tally or I should change one. If your argument is solid and canon based, I will listen to it and may change the numbers.

Numbers (or the TL;DR summary)

(Episode/Total so far)

Times Dean has lied to Sam or to a loved one: 0 / 0

Times Sam has lied to Dean or to a loved one: 0 / 3

Times Dean has been caught in a lie: 0 / 0

Times Sam has been caught in a lie: 0 / 1

Times Dean has hit Sam in anger: 0 / 1

Times Sam has hit Dean in anger: 1 / 4

Times Dean's lies or secrets have caused someone's death: 0 / 0

Times Sam's lies or secrets have caused someone's death: 0 / 1

Times Dean has abandoned (Or wanted to abandon) a hunt in the middle for his own needs: 0 / 0

Times Sam has abandoned (Or wanted to abandon) a hunt in the middle for his own needs: 0 / 7

Times Dean forced Sam to do something: 0 / 0

Times Sam forced Dean to do something: 0 / 7

Secrets kept by Dean: 0 / 1

Secrets kept by Sam: 0 / 2

Times Dean has blamed Sam for something: 0 / 0

Times Sam has blamed Dean for something: 1 / 4

Times Dean has apologized with words to Sam: 0 / 3

Times Sam has apologized with words to Dean: 0 / 2

Times Dean has respected Sam's boundaries and/or rules: 0 / 7

Times Sam has respected Dean's boundaries and/or rules: 0 / 0

Times Dean hasn't respected Sam's boundaries and/or rules: 0 / 0

Times Sam hasn't respected Dean's boundaries and / or rules: 0 / 13

Times Dean has made fun of something Sam does or has: 0 / 6

Times Sam has made fun of something Dean does or has: 0 / 31

Times we focus on Dean's needs: 0 / 1

Times we focus on Sam's needs: 1 / 6

Arc episodes dedicated to Sam: 1 / 7

Filler episodes dedicated to Sam: 0 / 6

Arc episodes dedicated to Dean: 0 / 0

Filler episodes dedicated to Dean: 0 / 4

Arc episodes dedicated to both brothers (or to none): 0 / 2

Filler episodes dedicated to both brothers (or to none): 0 / 2

Dean's Dropped Plotlines: 0 / 1

Sam's Dropped Plotlines: 0 / 2

[haec-est-fides]

Hi, can we discuss how -- however he was influenced by Gaea -- Octavian was likely very familiar with the Triumvirate? It’s subtle, but it shows up most clearly in the way he talks.

(Personally, I think Octavian might have been raised by one of the Imperial Households, but you could just read it as him being in contact with the Triumvirate for a significant amount of time.)

The most glaring red flag imo is that we learn from Rachel (in Hidden Oracle) that the Greek / Roman parley in House of Hades was held on property owned by Nero. This is more important than the fact that Octavian was merely funded by Triumvirate Holdings, because a) it makes an in-person meeting more likely and b) Luke was also funded by the Triumvirate and he doesn’t have the same connection that I’m seeing in Octavian.

Looking back to the parley scene, Octavian goes so far as to mock Rachel by saying, “You’re the Oracle of Delphi? Right. And I’m the Emperor Nero.” It may feel like a throwaway line, but it’s foreshadowing, plain and simple. In universe, I’m almost entirely certain that the reason Octavian says Nero and not Augustus (his namesake, as he loves reminding people) is that he’d recently talked to Nero and knows whose building they’re on. It’s like a Freudian slip -- and it’s just the tip of the iceberg, because Octavian slips up like that a lot.

Let’s start small: Octavian tends to speak in a rather dramatic, formal way. (He says “alas” in ordinary conversation, for instance.) He’s intentionally dramatic and somewhat sarcastic at times, sure, but I think it goes deeper than that. {I bring up one of my headcanons here, but it isn’t the crux of the whole argument. Bear with me.} I find it likely that Octavian learned Latin as his first language -- namely from the fact that his family has been sending kids to Camp Jupiter for over a century and his attachment to the idea of being a true / traditional Roman -- which would have an impact on how he speaks English. It would make sense, then, that his English speech patterns are similar to those of other native Latin speakers -- like the Triumvirate.

Trials of Apollo shows us that the triumvirs also tend to use more formal English, such as avoiding contractions and using what we might consider to be dated terms and phrasings (though this certainly isn’t a hard rule). Again, I don’t think it’s really conscious, but rather a byproduct of being native Latin speakers. In Hidden Oracle, for example, Nero says (to Apollo), “My own forefather does not recognize me?” I’d consider both his use of the word “forefather” and his avoidance of “doesn’t” to be a concise example of what I’m talking about.

It’s also true that few other characters use “alas” like Octavian does. In Heroes of Olympus, it’s only gods / titans / monsters who use the word “alas” (besides Octavian). In Trials of Apollo, it’s actually Apollo himself who uses that word the most (though remember, he’s also the narrator). He says “alas” 5 times in Hidden Oracle and ups it to 12 in Dark Prophecy. Do I need to keep counting? Beyond Apollo’s narration, Macro, Medea, and Caligula all say “alas” at least once in Burning Maze. All of these characters speak ancient languages, and half of them are native Latin speakers. I’ll admit that maybe it isn’t wholly a Latin thing, but there’s still a case for Octavian speaking in a way that could have been influenced by the emperors and their entourages.

Moving a step beyond nitpick, the connection between Octavian and the Triumvirate can also be seen in what Octavian says and the words he uses throughout Heroes of Olympus. We can split the analysis into 3 ideological themes, really: loyal Romans, immortality, and the future.

In Son of Neptune, Octavian calls himself a “loyal Roman” in a conversation with Percy. It’s rhetoric, a succinct yet subtle way to express Octavian’s ideology / self-conception / political striving, and that’s exactly the point. Later, in Blood of Olympus, Michael Kahale criticizes the people that Octavian is recruiting into the legion, calling them murderers, thieves, and traitors. Octavian, on the other hand, calls them “loyal demigods” -- again, fully aware of the rhetoric of that statement. Bryce Lawrence, one of said recruits, calls himself a “loyal Roman” too in order to appeal to Octavian and be permitted to rejoin the legion after his exile.

The reason this recurring “loyal Roman” motif strikes me is that it’s eerily similar ideology and phrasing to something Nero says in Hidden Oracle. Apollo asks, “The other two emperors. Who are they?” and Nero responds, “Good Romans -- men who, like me, have the willpower to do what is needed.” A line from Caligula’s speech before battle in Tyrant’s Tomb echoes the same sentiment: “It’s time to be true Romans!” In Tower of Nero, Nero also talks about bringing back “traditional Roman values”.

Apollo hits the nail on the head with his commentary: “The fact that Nero -- a man who had killed his own mother -- was talking about defending traditional Roman values...that was just about the most Roman thing I could imagine.” The whole point in all of these cases is that the men talking know that the modifiers they use are 100% oratorical, are dog whistles to those who think the same way and near gaslighting to those who don’t. These modifiers -- “loyal”, “good”, “true”, “traditional” -- mean something entirely different to the person saying them than they do to the heroes / average person! That’s a fascinating and complex parallel.

Immortality comes up in similarly echoed ways, showing that Octavian and the Triumvirate seem to be on the same page, coming from the same viewpoint, thinking alike. In Son of Neptune, what Octavian says to Mars is interesting especially in light of the Triumvirate. Mars, explaining the danger posed by the open Doors of Death, asks the gathered legion, “Can you imagine a world in which no one dies -- ever?” Octavian, despite his showy deference, interrupts the god, “But, ah, mighty all-powerful Lord Mars, if we can’t die, isn’t that a good thing? If we can stay alive indefinitely--” Octavian isn’t outright stupid, so I doubt he’s entirely thinking through what he says here. Of course it would be bad for one’s enemies to never die, but if you consider Octavian to be the type to be tempted by immortality? His interruption seems more in character and more likely if he has immortals or even aspirations to immortality in mind at the time.

In Blood of Olympus, Reyna’s vision of the Roman war-camp gives more weight to what I’ll call the immortality hypothesis. She notes Octavian’s “gilded chair that looked suspiciously like a throne”, how his new title of Pontifex Maximus elevates him “almost to the level of emperor”, and of course there’s the altar: “a marble altar....no doubt for the gods. But to Reyna it looked like an altar to Octavian himself.” In Hidden Oracle, it comes up several times -- even from Nero himself -- that the Triumvirate turned the ancient Imperial Cult into something powerful, something that could make them immortal. The Imperial Cult, at its simplest, looked a lot like what Octavian is doing in Reyna’s vision. Whether the Triumvirate told Octavian to do any of this, he got the idea from them, or he came up with it on his own, it’s another sign of similar thinking, at the very least.

Finally, the future -- which, of course, is bound to come up often where an augur is concerned, but I’m thinking of one line in particular. In Blood of Olympus, Octavian tells Michael about his plans, blatantly admitting that he’s aiming to declare himself “First Citizen” like his ancestor Augustus. (That title is princeps in Latin, and it’s an imperial title all three of the triumvirs use.) His Augustan lineage, which makes Octavian a legacy of Apollo from the same bloodline source that both Nero and Caligula get that status from, is another puzzle piece. Octavian is open about his heritage, his family is recognized as wealthy and powerful in New Rome and yet is never present there, and the Triumvirate seems unlikely to lose track of their relatives. Even so, what Octavian tells Michael next is a less speculative tie: “We will rule the future.” This is, specifically, the way Apollo frames the threat posed by the Triumvirate throughout Trials of Apollo once he becomes aware of their plan regarding Python and the oracles. A lot of that description comes after Apollo hears something Nero says to Python: “When we control all four Oracles, we will control fate itself!”

I suppose a facetious TL;DR might be that if you told me that Nero (canonically the best orator in the Greco-Roman Riordanverse) had been giving Octavian (canonically the best orator at Camp Jupiter) lessons in oratory or that Caligula had taken Octavian under his wing and every Tuesday they talked about world domination over coffee, I wouldn’t be surprised in the slightest.

Maybe this post is more of a Rorschach inkblot test for myself and how I read these books. Maybe I’m trying to read way too deeply. Whatever the case, I think that there’s something more to be said about Octavian and the Triumvirate than funding, and no one has been saying it.

[mostlycompetentwriter]

ROCK

Pairing: Gender Neutral Reader x Seo Changbin (SKZ)

Word count: 1.3K

Genre: Roommate AU

Warnings: Angst and Fluff!

Summary: You’ve never considered yourself better than anyone else, but that doesn’t mean you can take anymore of the way your boss and co-workers seem to disregard you at work - like you aren’t good enough. Thankfully, Changbin is always around to help you see the best version of yourself and chase away all those insecurities...

A/N: A special requested fic for @mrsunshine999​

A rock or a steady foundation...

It was a tedious routine at this point - glancing up at the clock above your desk and wondering whether or not time itself was against you. When you were younger, you had this perception of the idealized “dream job,” but you could’ve never anticipated the situation that you encountered on a regular basis in the present. It all started with your new manager because he was determined to undercut your efforts and success at every available opportunity.

It was a recurring pattern, and you were growing tired of being mistreated and told that you weren’t good enough. Of course, the worst instance of your manager’s abuse happened in the moments preceding your deliverance of a presentation in front of the company CEO and several important men and women in the office. It was meant to be your big break - a chance to impress the higher-ups in the corporation. However, when you opened the file that you had sent to your manager for revisions, you were horrified to see that he had replaced your name with his own. Consequently, it was beyond humiliating to deliver the presentation because everyone in the room thought that you were simply recounting the efforts of someone else.

“Good job, Mr. Kim,” your CEO remarked to your manager, and a steady applause filled the room while your manager smirked in your direction.

It was the worst kind of disappointment because that research and power-point presentation had taken you weeks to put together, and nobody would ever validate your efforts because the manager had effectively stolen the spotlight. “Asshole,” you muttered under your breath.

It was a horrible memory that would be forever ensconced inside your head, and the more you thought about it, the more you started to feel your self-confidence dwindling to an all-time low. Like the mere idea of returning to work the next day seemed irrelevant because you were incapable of accomplishing anything substantial. The thoughts racing through your mind were worsening: what if your manager was right? Maybe you weren’t worthy of praise because you simply lacked the ability to deliver outstanding results. Could that be the real reason why he always felt the need to intervene?

You leaned back in your chair, stewing over the outcome of your efforts, and you sat at your desk chair for the remainder of the afternoon with a heavy heart. Why bother even trying when you would never amount to anything? It might be considered self-loathing, but you couldn’t help the way that you were feeling. Finally, you swallowed hard around a lump in your throat because all you wanted to do was go home and hide yourself away in the comfort of your bedroom.

By the time you got home from work, exhaustion had crippled all of your senses. You fumbled with the keys in the lock before pushing open the door and walking inside with a heavy sigh. “Hey, Y/N! I’m in the kitchen!”

You paused at the familiar sound of your roommate’s voice. “Changbin?” you inquired, walking over to the kitchen to find him reaching into the oven to pull out a tray of sweet-smelling desserts. 

“Felix came over earlier to help me make these,” he said, placing the tray on top of the oven. “What do you think?”

“Oh, I’m sure they’re great,” you said, unable to find any real semblance of genuineness when you addressed him. 

“Y/N,” Changbin said, looking at you with concern. “Did something happen?”

“I don’t want to talk about it,” you said, ignoring the call of your name before retreating into the welcoming darkness of your bedroom.

This was perhaps what you deserved - a morbid darkness of impenetrable self-effacement. It was a place where you could escape from the rest of the world, and you had very nearly fallen asleep when the sound of your door creaking open invited a stream of light to penetrate the shadows.

“Y/N,” Changbin said, and you flinched at the unexpected interruption. “Do you mind if I come inside?”

“I guess not,” you said, re-adjusting your position on the bed while watching Changbin approach with cautious steps - like you were a timid deer that might balk at any sudden movement.

“Did something happen at work?”

You sighed at Changbin’s uncanny intuitiveness. “It’s my manager again.”

“Yeah? What the hell did he do this time?” Changbin nearly growled, inviting himself to sit down on the edge of the mattress next to you.

You shrugged while picking at a loose string on your dress pants. “Do you remember that powerpoint I was working on?”

“Of course,” Changbin said. “Did that asshole say something?”

“He put his name on the presentation,” you said. “He took credit for everything.”

“What the fuck?” Changbin cursed. “Who does this asshole think he is?”

“I don’t know, Changbin. Maybe he did the right thing,” you said, refusing to meet his eyes as he shifted next to you.

“The right thing?! Are you serious, Y/N? He took advantage of your hard work to help save his own ass.” Changbin huffed as he crossed his arms over his chest. “I should go to his stupid apartment and beat the hell out of him.”

You rolled your eyes at Changbin’s histrionics. “No, you shouldn’t. He was probably only looking out for the best interests of the company.”

“Or the best interests of himself,” Changbin countered. “I guess he’s never heard of morals.”

You studied Changbin for a moment, noting how worked up he was getting because it stood in stark contradiction to your listless complacency. After all, this had happened to you before, and maybe you should just start expecting this kind of treatment. After all, your efforts never paid off, and it was becoming glaringly obvious that you weren’t capable of reaching some sort of personal acme.

“I’m just not good enough,” you said, trying your best to wipe away the tears that had fallen at some point during your conversation. “If I was better, then this wouldn’t happen.”

“Y/N!” Changbin gasped, and he immediately grabbed your hands and brought them down and away from your swollen profile. “How can you say that?”

You shook your head - resolutely dead-set on this endless train of self-deprecation. Because why should you believe anything else when there was no evidence to prove the contrary? “I’m mediocre at best,” you said. “That’s all I’ll ever be.”

“Hey!” Changbin said, startling you with such a harsh tone. “Look at me.” You obeyed his command, gazing into the deep caverns of his eyes. “Y/N, you’re more than capable of doing amazing things in your life. I know that everyone has days where they feel like they aren’t doing enough, but even the bare minimum for you will always go above and beyond what others might think is necessary. You’re one of the smartest people I know, and I won’t let you sit here and put yourself down because of one gigantic prick who doesn’t deserve to even be in the same room as you.”

You shivered at Changbin’s intensity, but there wasn’t a single ounce of protest when he wrapped you into his arms, smoothing his hand along the ridge of your spine. It was a soothing gesture, and you felt yourself melt into his familiar embrace. “You’re amazing,” Changbin said, finally pulling away to look at you again. “Don’t let anyone ever tell you anything otherwise.”

You nodded in response because, even if there were still doubts plaguing your thoughts, you could always count on Changbin to shine a reassuring light into the crippling darkness.