#and that's why he has more women in his life than you OLIVER'

[shotoh]

❝ I THINK I… ♡ ❞

⋆ ˚。⋆୨୧˚ when they realize they’re in love with you

feat. oliver aiku, itoshi rin, nagi seishiro, isagi yoichi, itoshi sae, kunigami rensuke, mikage reo

cw + tw. fluff, some angst, fem!reader, aged-up!characters, pro-player!characters, friends to lovers + established relationships, pet names, (!!!)attempted assault (in kunigami’s scenario, but he’s obviously not the assailant), alcohol usage (in oliver’s), maximum self-indulgence

notes. jdjsjsn this is kind of all over the place but i just wanted to word dump some cute scenarios and headcanons

OLIVER AIKU

honestly, he’d get kind of scared. and not in an appalled way like, “psh, i’m oliver aiku! i can get any woman i want so why should i only care about this one person?!”

no, it’s because he’s fully aware of his disloyal and womanizing past that he’s afraid of this. he’s afraid he’ll end up hurting you—the one person he truly cares about—and he believes you don’t deserve that.

you deserve so much better than a douchebag like him.

he keeps that growing pit of adoration to himself and carries on with his life as always, but that can only do so much when he’s so clearly infatuated with you.

the most he lets himself do is tag along on your night out at clubs. however, he doesn’t drink a lick of alcohol. he needs to be sober to take care of you in case you get too wild out there to do so yourself. while he’s there though he talks to a few of the women flocking around, entertains them a bit, maybe as a feeble attempt to get you off his mind and forget about the jealousy rooted deep inside him when too many guys check you out and ask for a dance. but nowadays, he can never find it in himself to take any of these women home. that’s how deep his affections for you have run.

at one point during the night, you approach him with one too many drinks in your system, evident by your wobbly steps and the carefree grin plastered on your face.

“oli~! why don’ yer dance wit me?!” you slur, nearly toppling in front of him if not for oliver dashing forward to stop you from falling on your face.

“i think you’ve had one too many drinks, sweetheart,” he chides. after that he’s draping his large coat over your bare shoulders and leading you back to his car to get you home, while ignoring all the pouty women on his way out.

you object to leaving at first, droning about how the night is still young, but oliver is persistent in getting you home safe and sound. eventually, you doze off in the passenger seat while he’s driving. when he parks in front of your apartment complex, he carries you all the way up to your door, fishes out your keys from your clutch, and finally gets you into bed.

he lingers a little bit longer to make sure you’re all settled and if you need his help with anything, but once the buzz in your system has fizzled and your eyes are fully lidded, oliver assumes you’re out like a light. that is, until he’s sitting at your bedside and he hears the faintest murmur from your lips.

“love you… oliver…” is what comes out in a lovely daze and he almost wants to deny he heard it for both yours and his sake, but all he can do is muster a smile, ghosting a hand along your cheek, and say while you’re blissfully unaware,

“love you too, sweetheart.”

ITOSHI RIN

lowkey annoyed over this because instead of soccer plaguing his mind 24/7, his thoughts are now overrun by you! so he ignores the feeling, thinking it will magically go away or something. but newsflash to rin: it’s not as simple as it looks, and he ends up learning that lesson the hard way.

he spends the next week evading you—declining invites to hang out, sending half-hearted text messages, and ingraining himself in his soccer practices. unfortunately for him, his performance actually gets worse because now all those feelings he’s been bottling up inside his fragile heart are about to burst.

even shidou has been scoring more than him and rin just can’t live that down, especially when the former asks if the reason he’s been doing so poorly is because he and his “little girlfriend” broke up. which isn’t even the case since you’ve both never crossed that bridge.

poor boy goes home one day conflicted over all of this, slouched on the edge of his bed with his hands ruffled in his hair. soon he gets a text from you, which he shouldn’t be surprised by, given how he’s been treating you lately.

but then you’re asking him if he’s okay and rin is utterly taken aback because he’s been acting like such an asshole, yet you’re the one that’s still worried about his well-being.

right then and there rin has a long moment of contemplation, breathing a sigh into his hand which clasps over his mouth. he replies back with a quick apology text before telling you to meet him after his practice tomorrow. the moment he hits send, he tosses his phone on the bed, not willing to wait for that hovering gray bubble to appear on the message window.

when tomorrow arrives and practice is over, his steps are dragging along the pavement outside the training facility. he’s honestly doubting if you’ll even show up, but those qualms are immediately dashed when he sees your figure a few distances away. you’re standing there with apprehension written on your features, which morph into worry as soon as you cross eyes with him.

rin can’t even get a word in or form a coherent thought because the moment you run up to him, you’re blabbering about how he didn’t have to apologize because he was probably working so hard on soccer, chasing his dreams and the like. then, you bring up how maybe you should continue distancing yourself in order to help him focus, and god, that flicks a switch in rin’s head because that is far from what he wants.

all of a sudden, he’s silencing you as he pulls you into his chest. you find yourself buried in his jersey, confused but not drifting away, and even return the embrace when you sense him shake against you.

“fuck, no. i don’t want that all…” his voice sounds like he’s about to break as he mutters those words into your hair. his arms tighten around your shoulders as if you’ll leave him at any moment. you assure him you won’t as you nuzzle closer into his chest.

“then i’m not going anywhere, rin.”

NAGI SEISHIRO

the thought comes upon him when he’s alone in his apartment. it’s not immediate though.

the sunlight seeping through the curtains inevitably wakes him up one very late morning. and by very late, i mean this dozy boy definitely slept in that day, if he couldn’t already tell from his digital clock reading 11am.

even though nagi is always keen on getting plenty of shut-eye, he’s constantly kept on his toes when it comes to having a productive sleep schedule. partially due to soccer practices, but also because you sometimes visit him in the mornings. so normally, he’s woken by the ruckus you’re making while cooking him breakfast in the kitchen.

but this morning it’s… silent. which in hindsight, nagi should be happy about, right? he got to sleep in, after all, and he doesn’t have practice today. what more could he want?

once he shakes off the last remnants of sleep from his body, he finally musters the strength to get out of bed and maybe start his day with something to eat. which this morning is… leftovers. specifically the leftovers from the last time you made him food—a couple days ago.

regardless, he warms them up and sits down with a plate on the table. says his appreciations for the meal and digs in. when the first bite enters his mouth, it tastes the same as when he initially had it, but there’s an empty feeling in the bottom of his stomach he can’t quite pinpoint. he scarfs down a few more spoonfuls until he grows tired of eating, resting his head on the table.

his tummy is full, yet that emptiness persists—it’s been on the forefront of his mind for several days now and it’s starting to annoy him. he can’t determine why that is and what makes those days any different from before succumbing to that void in his heart.

after all, nothings changed.

just that… you went on an overseas trip. without him.

well, it’s not like he was ever going to be invited since you’re supposed to be vacationing with your girlfriends.

ah, wait. maybe he’s just lonely.

no, that can’t be it. he hung out with reo and some of the other blue lock boys the day after you left. even a slacker like him still makes time to see his friends. so what is he missing here?

the question lingers in nagi’s noggin as he drags his fork along the remaining food stuck on his plate. at some point, his phone’s ringing breaks him from his stupor, and he’s surprised to glance over and see your caller id on the screen.

he’s not sure what comes over him, but nagi swears he’s never hit the accept button so fast in his life. immediately, he brings the phone next to his ear, and is the first one on the line to utter “hello?”

“sei, you’re awake! i’m glad i got the time zones right!” you exclaim in your cheery tone that nagi has always been accustomed to hearing in the morning. “y’see i’ve stumbled on a gift shop the other day and found a few souvenirs i’d think you’d like!”

you ramble on and on about your adventures around the country you’re visiting and nagi finds himself absorbing your voice, hanging on every word, and even nodding next to the phone like you’re right here in front of him.

suddenly, his heart feels so full and everything clicks into place again. it’s like his day never actually started until you appeared with all your mirth and energy. even on opposite sides of the earth, you’re still the sun to his moon.

“angel,” he murmurs as you’re in the middle of talking, and you’re silent after acknowledging his call, waiting on his words.

“come home soon. i miss you.”

ISAGI YOICHI

this boy is a mess! he’s the kind of guy who as soon as those feelings start blooming in his chest, he gets super flustered around you all the time. and it’s obvious too.

before, he was super nonchalant with you. treated you like a friend, flirted without even knowing because he’s just that comfortable around you, but when any of his friends or family mention how the two seem closer than you realize, he just freezes and his mind goes blank. erupts in an embarrassing fit of sputtering and denial, face searing red down to the nape of his neck. it’s so cute.

however, he’s not fooling anybody! anyone can tell by the windblown expression on his face—starstruck eyes admiring you as a warm grin overtakes his features—that he’s absolutely smitten by you. he just needs to admit it already.

well, his next outing with you (in which he swears wasn’t actually a date, but c’mon isagi), finally gets him to come to terms with his emotions as he reminisces spending the whole day just laughing his heart out and being so full of that warmth and happiness you give him that makes him feel completely weightless. almost like he can do anything. afterward, when he gets home, he rushes upstairs and literally flails in his bed with the most insane blush on his cheeks. like wow, he’s in love with you.

isagi yoichi is in love with you.

but love to isagi is like a double-edged sword, especially to someone who just escaped that blue lock hellhole and now has to devote even more of his life to his soccer career.

with that carefree sensation comes a new box of trepidations that he’s afraid to open.

what if there comes a time when he would have to choose between you or soccer? he’s hoping that won’t ever be the case. he’d hate to struggle juggling the two and end up breaking your heart.

god, never in a million years does he want that.

the best he can do is take steps to introduce this side of his life to you. he does so in extravagant fashion, by inviting you to come watch him play during his championship game.

to say you were a little startled by his offer was an understatement, but you take him up on it, and promise you’ll be there, especially since isagi went out of his way to get you the best seats in the stadium.

on the day of his match, he’s more nervous about performing well in front of you rather than winning. winning is instinct for him so he has no doubts he’ll claim victory and take home the championship cup. he’s just eager to show you a new isagi you’ve never seen before, rather than the tongue-tied, flustered puppy isagi that’s been vying for your attention lately.

coming onto the field, his eyes are too busy swerving in the direction of where you’re seated than focus on his opponents. the moment he distinguishes your figure at the very front of the stands—draped in a jersey that reads his name—countless butterflies begin fluttering in his stomach. it’s a feeling that he can never truly convey into words.

all he does is let an elated grin spread wide on his lips, cheeks swathed in such a dainty shade of rose that has his teammates swatting the back of his head to remind him he has a very important game to win.

and oh does isagi win. during the match he scores four goals in quick succession, absolutely annihilating the other team to the point where it’s downright embarrassing for the opposing side. the commentators are completely baffled, questioning what has the player so stoked. little do they realize that each of those goals were all made in your name and isagi can’t wait to let you know that later with his championship cup in hand.

ITOSHI SAE

sae is pretty accepting of this revelation. nothing really fazes him after all, and he recognizes that it was only a matter of time before he came to terms with the idea that he might be head over heels for you.

in fact, he takes those feelings in stride.

as if sae wasn’t already a gentleman before this, his mannerisms around you only intensify. he’s constantly holding the door open for you, pulling out your chair, giving you his jacket whenever you’re cold, and so on. you never have to lift a finger when you’re with him. it’s to the point where he’s even sweeping stray hairs off your face and tucking them behind your ear before you’re given a chance to realize they were bothering you in the first place. not a day goes by where he doesn’t place you on a pedestal and worship you in the best ways he knows how.

he’s also gotten very touchy and a tiny bit possessive (okay maybe more than a tiny bit). sae isn’t the type to initiate pda regularly, but whenever he feels threatened in any way—which is very rare but not impossible—he always has a hand on you. whether it’s on your lower back as he ushers you closer to him, or intertwining your fingers together before sending a cold, piercing glare over his shoulder at the offending party, he always makes his intentions with you known even if you yourself are oblivious of them.

it’s not like he’s controlling or obsessive either. he simply wants to make you feel special. to be frank, he’s setting such a high standard that no other man can compare to him.

on more than one occasion, he’s had to travel overseas for international business, and the first time he left the country for an extended period without you, he grew incredibly homesick. not because he particularly misses the normalcy of his life back in japan, but because it always feels a little empty, and frankly, boring without you by his side. he’s grown to appreciate the moments he shares with you, from the time he wakes up beside you to when he falls asleep while you’re in his arms.

after that, whenever he has to fly out of the country, he insists you tag along with him, and goes out of his way to pay for all your expenses—plane ticket, lodgings, everything. most of the time, you try turning down his offer, stating you don’t want to be a hindrance while he’s working. yet sae counters by saying it’ll be more trouble for him if you weren’t there with him than not, and who are you to object when he’s staring at you with such unwavering ocean eyes, looking as if you’re the whole world to him.

KUNIGAMI RENSUKE

deep down, kunigami has always held you closely in his heart, regardless if he’s aware of the love he possesses behind it.

it’s natural for him to want to protect the people he cherishes, but with you, you activate something so visceral inside him. it scares him sometimes, how you can make his whole body rattle, blood pumping erratically to the point where all he can hear is the ringing in his ears and his heart thumping wildly out of his chest.

that’s especially the case when he receives a late night call from you while he’s settling himself at his apartment. he’s slightly surprised by the random call. you don’t normally reach out for him at this time since you’re either going to sleep or hanging out with friends in the dormant hours of the night.

accepting the call, he brings the phone to his ear.

“hello? y/n?”

“r-ren? u-um, can you please stay on the phone with me..?” you whisper in the receiver, tone quivering to a frightening degree. he hears the anxiety laced in your voice and suddenly sirens go off in his head.

“where are you?” he questions sternly as he instantly stands from his seat, reaching for his car keys.

“i just left a club and was going to walk to the station, but… s-someone’s–”

kunigami doesn’t need to hear anymore to understand the full picture that makes his bones quake for your safety as he dashes out the door.

“i’m coming to get you, so send me your location. until then, stay in an open area and don’t stop talking to me, okay?”

you affirm quietly before moving your phone from your ear to pin your location to him with trembling fingers. as you’re doing so, kunigami’s already started the ignition to his car, revving on the roads with little care of the law. he’s never driven this fast in his life, swearing he’s a defensive driver, but that means nothing to him when your safety is on the line right now.

if he grips his steering wheel any harder, it might just break off from his bare strength alone. a single glance at the map on his dash tells him he’s less than a minute away from your position. in the last stretch, he can finally spot your frightened silhouette under the dimly lit lamps.

as soon as you recognize the model of his vehicle, relief washes over your tense shoulders. you take it as your chance to escape your precarious situation, but the shady man a few meters away decides to attempt a last minute assault, dashing in your direction.

when the fiery-haired athlete sees this, his restraint all but snaps. he gets out of his car without even slamming his door shut and spontaneously reaches for you, pulling you behind his intimidating, brawny frame before punching the man square in the jaw. the assailant tumbles onto the hard ground, completely knocked out.

kunigami’s attention immediately turns to you, putting all his efforts into your well-being as he yanks you in his protective embrace. the adrenaline from both your bodies wears off and the striker can sense you bursting into tears against his chest.

“ren, i’m so sorry, i was out with friends and i thought it would okay for me to stay out later even though they wanted to leave, and-and–” your words collide with your jumbled thoughts, but the last thing kunigami wants is for you to apologize for this scumbag’s actions.

“shh, princess. it’s not your fault,” he whispers next to your ear, “fuck! if anything happened to you… i… i…” his voice breaks apart. his hold on you tightens just imagining if he was even a second late coming to your side. for now, he’s thankful to have you back safe and sound, tucking you closer to his heart.

MIKAGE REO

when reo considers that what he was feeling might no longer be a crush, but rather actual love for you, he’s a bit doubtful. mostly because he’s approached countless girls with romantic intentions in mind, however, to his disappointment, he’ll discover that they’re mainly interested in his status instead of him as a person. his good looks and charisma are just a plus for them. therefore he’s very hesitant to fully act on these emotions, afraid to have his heart broken again.

however, he slowly starts accepting the notion that he might be wrong about you. it shows in the way you’re always asking about his life outside of him being an heir to a billion-dollar corporation. he’s stunned by how your features can glow with such intrigue whenever he speaks about his time in blue lock, leading to his journey to becoming a star player in the land of professional football. most girls he entertained would fake interest in this before quickly changing the subject.

eventually, they’ll throw themselves on him to garner his favor and try gaining access to his parents’ wealth. however, you seek greater value in sharing the same experiences with him. you take him out to watch movies, hangout at the most unique cafes, and have the time of your lives at amusement parks.

reo’s used to his dates borderline demanding him to drive them out for extensive shopping sprees or book them dinners to the most high-end restaurants in the city. it becomes exhausting when all his partner sees in him is a personal wallet for them to call on whenever they’re eyeing the newest luxury trends displayed on shop windows.

so to have a person like you by his side, who doesn’t determine his value on such materialistic facets is… refreshing… but also just as frightening because he’s afraid of losing such a precious person like you.

though it may be counterintuitive, reo means to return your kindness by spoiling you, thinking you’re someone who genuinely deserves to be dolled up and treated like royalty.

the first time reo swipes his card on a hefty purchase for you, you’re a little bit overwhelmed, going on to say he didn’t have to do all this. but the man is difficult to argue around, what with his suave words and charismatic demeanor that makes it hard for you to say no to the jewels and dresses he wants to adorn on your body.

then as if he couldn’t have pampered you anymore, he also brings up the offer for you move into his penthouse so you don’t have to worry about rent while making ends meet. of course, you bring up the case that you don’t want to rely on him for money—that you simply enjoy being with him—but reo counters with similar reasoning.

“c’mon doll, just let me do this for you,” he insists. “you’ve done so much for me already, and i just want to make sure you know how special you are to me.”

copyright 2023 shotoh, all rights reserved. i do not allow my creations to be published or translated anywhere else so please do not repost this or share my content on tiktok.

[diazsdimples]

Evan Buckley being bisexual is so much more to me than a step closer to Buddie and here's why.

Evan Buckley being bisexual is the representation we are so lacking in today's media, of a man, in his 30's, who has been marked as a "ladies man" since day one, finally able to be authentic and true to himself as he learns and grows through this journey.

The reason this is personal to me is as follows.

I have always been into men. To the extent that I never really had to come out as gay as it was just... known, ya know? The grass is green, the sky is blue, James likes dick. I am gay. BUT. In the last 2-3 months, I've been having feelings that maybe I might not be? For years I've only been interested in men. I am married to a man!!

But then, a singular woman came along, was extremely hot, and fuck, my entire identity of being gay and solely into men was spun around and fucked bodily against a wall. And it was scary. It still is! This is the first time I've like, openly acknowledged that yeah, I think I'm bisexual, without feeling like I'm going to panic or freak out, or feel like I have to deny it.

And then, imagine going through all this, questioning your identity, suddenly seeing women (plural, this has been lifechanging) in this new light, as not only people I desperately want to be friends with and work alongside, but also maybe have sex with? Whilst still being married TO A MAN!!! And now, sitting there minding my own business, watching my happy little wee woo show, and Evan fucking Buckley, the man who I relate to most, kisses another man and realises that fuck, he might be bisexual too?? To see my own experiences reflected on TV at the same time as I'm experiencing them??

I genuinely wept.

Because now, Buck and I get to explore our bisexuality at the same time. And I feel a little more confident to do so, because seeing this on TV is like the breath of validation that I needed. It's okay to come into your own later in life (I say at 23 but still), it's okay to not have everything sorted in your teens, and it's okay to just be yourself.

Because that is what Buck is doing, and I'm going to do it too. Thank you, to ABC, Oliver Stark, and Evan Buckley for giving us - giving me the representation and the validation that is needed.

[ilikethisacompletelynormalamount]

Andrew Scott, Vogue: April 2024.

by Zing Tsjeng, Photos by Annie Leibovitz

Ripley, in other words, is the hero of the tale. “That’s why he fascinates so many,” says Scott. “There’s been so many iterations of him. I think it’s because people root for him.” Actors like Alain Delon and Dennis Hopper have tried the role; Matt Damon played him as an obsequious, lower-class naïf; John Malkovich, as a slimy, camp killer. Scott’s Ripley is different; a watchful loner escaping rodent-infested poverty, more at home among art than he is around people. Musician and actor Johnny Flynn plays his first victim—the monied Dickie Greenleaf—and Dakota Fanning is Dickie’s suspicious ex-girlfriend. “I find Tom quite vulnerable,” Scott tells me. “I don’t think he’s necessarily lonely, but I certainly think he’s solitary…. He seems to me by his nature that he just can’t fit in. He’s trying to survive.”

In Ripley, Zaillian extracts maximum Hitchcockian dread from every creaky footstep. But most sinister of all is Scott’s face, which exhibits a sharklike steeliness throughout. It’s a performance that exudes queasy force. Is Ripley a scammer, a psychopath, or both? “There’s so many things lurking beneath him that I’ve been very reluctant to diagnose him with anything. I never thought of him as a sociopath or murderous,” Scott declares. “It’s up to everybody else to characterize him or call him whatever they want.”

As we weave through tourists near the Tower of London, barely anybody notices Scott, save for a faint glimmer of recognition among mainly young women. He seems to draw reassurance from it. “I don’t like to think about it too much, if I’m honest,” he muses of fame. “I find it a little bit, er, frightening.” He is known but not blockbuster-recognizable, although he is in the upcoming Back in Action with Cameron Diaz and Jamie Foxx. What stunts did he do? “I can’t give that away, I’m afraid, or somebody from Netflix will come and shoot me in the head.”

What’s been on Scott’s mind the most hasn’t been acting at all, in fact, but art. As a 17-year-old, he was offered his first movie role on the same day he was given a scholarship to study painting. He chose acting, but has recently been thinking about Oliver Burkeman’s philosophical self-help tract from 2021, Four Thousand Weeks, which makes the case for focusing on the five things you truly want to accomplish. “For me at the moment, it’s like, What do you want to do? What do you want to say?”

He scrolls through his phone to show me his work. There’s a watercolor of a couple arguing in a restaurant in rich reds and greens, line drawings of friends and people on the beach, and two self-portraits. “It’s a bit weird,” he acknowledges of his depiction of himself, all bulbous forehead and Pan-like tufts of hair. His brisk, nervy lines are reminiscent of Egon Schiele or Francis Bacon, who turns out to be one of his favorite painters. “Well, God, I’ll take that,” he mutters at the comparison. He would like someday to go to art school. “I don’t ever regret it,” he says of acting. “But I suppose you just get to a stage where you think, What else? That’s one of the big painful things in life for me, where you can’t quite live all the lives.” As he gets older, he feels the tug toward revisiting old working relationships, including with Waller-Bridge: “We’ve definitely got things cooking,” he smiles. “I’d love to work with her again. She’s just a singular, wonderful person.” For her part, Waller-Bridge says: “I’d love to see him do a fully unhinged slapstick comedy character. Someone who is outraged at everything, all of the time.”

As we round the pavement and the Tate Modern looms back into sight, he recalls a poster he received in 2017—a monstrously large graphic that detailed every week in a human life span. “It’s your entire life if you live to 80—you have to fill in all the bits that you’ve already lived,” he remembers in awe, “a visually terrifying gift.” What did he do with it? “I didn’t hold on to it for too long.” Easy come, easy go: We finally finish our loop around the Thames and, as Scott disappears back into the throng, anonymous just the way he likes it, it occurs to me that the actor has many lives to live yet. ■

[buddiebeginz]

I know not everything the actors say in interviews is accurate but I’m pretty sure in the beginning of the season Oliver talked about how Buck was going to have to work for his next relationship. He talked very deliberately about how Buck has always had relationships come easy. In that he’ll like someone and then end up with them without having to really fight for them. He said Buck's next relationship was going to be different, yet things with T*mmy feel exactly the same as how it’s felt with most of the women Buck's been with. Where the relationship comes easy and it’s mostly based on sex and the person doesn’t really know who Buck is at his core.

I can’t help but wonder if Tim told Oliver that he was planning on making Buddie happen this season or at least moving them closer to happening and it got pushed into s8. In the beginning of this season we had a lot of joint Ryan and Oliver interviews more so than in previous years. Oliver also did a lot of posting/liking about Buddie and Ryan on insta. He also talked about Buddie in all his interviews more than in previous seasons. Given how Oliver has said multiple times in the past that he didn't want to lead people on about Buddie I can't help but feel like he thought things were going to play out differently.

If you watch the beginning of s7 it feels like we’re heading towards something important happening with Buddie. We had a lot of Buddie scenes including the locker room scene, the scene where Buddie talk about underlying sexual tension, the scene where Buck is showing how much he's like Chris' other dad, Buddie working together on multiple calls including rescuing Bobby together. Then of course there was 704 which was like a flashing neon sign saying Buck has feelings for Eddie and is scared Eddie is going to replace him.

Then in 705 it was Eddie who interrupts Buck's first date with a guy. It's Eddie that is the focus of the conversation where Buck comes out to Maddie, where she tells him that if he has something he needs to tell Eddie he will in his own time. Then we get a very intimate scene where Buck comes out to Eddie, including a lot of shared looks between them and a hug. Also of note that Buck only had two coming out scenes in the whole season and Eddie was chosen to be one of them. There was also the gym scene where they talked about Eddie's sex life.

To me it feels like Tim changed course around 706 when he cut a lot of Buddie stuff from the ep especially the karaoke scene. I know a lot of things were likely cut for time but still they shot a scene of Buddie being all touchy feely singing a karaoke love song for the Madney wedding ep. Karaoke was one of the first things Madney did when they were falling for one another it was too much of a parallel for it not to mean something.

I think 706 was really supposed to be a bigger Buddie episode than it turned out to be. This may also be why so much of the promo stuff was about Buddie. I think originally this was going to be the episode to start officially letting the audience know there was something there between them. You can also see parts of the original story where they had Buddie joined at the hip after the bachelor party (helping Maddie and looking for Chim) everything came off very coupley.

This may also explain why Abuela is at the wedding and Marisol isn't (more about Marisol later). I wonder if originally we were going to get some kind of scene with Abuela and Eddie where she says something about Buck. There's no way they brought her in to just stand in the background like an extra there had to have been a purpose for her character originally.

I think Tim changed course when he decided he wanted to do the Kim/Shannon Vertigo mess. Which I don’t get why someone didn’t step in and tell him how ridiculous this idea was especially in this short of a season. I feel like Tim wanted to do something artsy and also get Devin Kelley back on the show and this was how he chose to do that. Unfortunately though the story turned into a mess and worse I feel like parts of Eddie's emotional journey that deserved more focus were lost. Like even the general audience didn't know what to make of that scene where Kim was dressed up as Shannon.

The Vertigo story might also be a part of why there were rumours that Edy had finished filming prior to this storyline starting in 707. Maybe she thought she had but was brought back in for this storyline. Who knows? This season was basically being written almost as they were filming it and I'm pretty sure Tim was changing things left and right. You can see that more in some episodes vs others and definitely more the later the season goes on.

I also think that would explain why so little thought and time was put into both Eddie's relationship with Marisol and Buck's thing with T*mmy. I don't think either relationship was supposed to last the entire season. There was talk early on in s7 that Lou was only supposed to be around for something like four episodes definitely a short run. In interviews Oliver also made it seem like B/T wasn't going to last and that T*mmy eventually was going to be more of a mentor type figure for Buck.

Lou also used the word rom-com when referring to B/T. Although take that with a grain of salt because it may have been on one of his cameos and he said all kinds of stuff on there. But you can see rom-com love triangle type stuff being set up in 704/705/706 between Buck, Eddie, and T*mmy and then T*mmy just kind of disappears (until 709) and the Kim/Shannon thing happens.

This would explain why there is so little development in s7 for T*mmy and B/T's relationship to the point that they never even defined that relationship by the end of the season. They never even had Buck call him his boyfriend. Which I'm glad for that in a way but it just goes to show how bad the writing was this season. And as much as I want Buddie and as much as I dislike Lou and T*mmy I'm also really sad for Oliver because this is not the coming out storyline Buck deserved.

In 707 there was zero mention of T*mmy and this is also when the Kim/Shannon storyline started so I think this is when we see some significant changes to the storyline from wherever things were originally set to go. Though the scene with Buddie and Chris I think some of that was from whatever had been originally planned. It's too flirty to explain otherwise. Maybe originally it was going to be something where Eddie and Chris spend time at Buck's loft but because there was the Kim storyline they wrote it with Eddie leaving for the date.

The thing is Buck's feelings for Eddie throughout this whole season have been louder and more apparent than we've ever seen them be before. Oliver is clearly playing Buck as in love with Eddie. Go back and watch the scene in 704 where Eddie talks about clicking with T*mmy and see how Buck looks like his heart has broken into a million pieces. Or the way Buck watches Eddie in the coming out scene in 705. Or Buck's face in 709 after he said he was worried about Eddie. It's just so obvious that man loves Eddie and would do anything for him.

This is why I really thought there was a good probability of us getting an oh moment feelings realization from Buck in the finale or at the very least a moment where they hugged and consoled each other over losing their son. But we didn't even get that.

I'm honestly not surprised that Oliver went quiet on social media during the back half of s7. Throughout the whole season Oliver wasn't really showing support for B/T and he talked very little about the ship in his interviews. I think this was originally because the plan was for B/T only to be a short term thing and Oliver didn't want to lead anyone on about that ship. I also personally think Oliver has wanted to see Buddie happen for years so he's not going to be rooting for another ship.

I also get the vibe Oliver's not crazy about working with Lou. Anytime you see behind the scenes video and pics of the cast Lou isn't in them or if he is no one is interacting with him. You can also see in the one interview Oliver did with Lou that the chemistry between them just isn't there. They feel more like coworkers just doing their job vs how Ryan and Oliver always appear like giggling besties in every interview and behind the scenes thing we see them in.

Like others have said I'm just sad for Oliver. I think once Tim told Oliver about them wanting to do the bi Buck storyline he must have been so excited. He's talked in interviews about how he's always seen Buck as bi so he must have been thrilled when they said they were finally taking his character there. And for all the issues this season Buck's coming out is still an incredibly important storyline and has meant a lot to so many people. Oliver has even talked about all the people that have messaged him and how deeply they've been affected by a character like Buck coming out.

Still I'm sure Oliver wants more for Buck's love life than the lackluster relationship that he's been stuck with. You can tell in how he talks about Buddie that he wants to see that relationship happen and that he wants to make sure it's done right and doesn't play into stereotypes.

I just hate that T*mmy is the first guy they've stuck Buck with. I hate that Tim and the show have done nothing with this relationship. We don't even really know by the end of s7 how Buck feels about T*mmy or how he feels having been dating a guy for months. Some of that should have been revisited maybe with a talk between Buck and Maddie. But it's like others have said they made Buck bi and then just kind of forgot about him. I think though that's because like I said Tim pushed everything to the side to focus on the Vertigo plot and also all the stuff with Bobby to the detriment of everything else. Buddie was the original plan and Tim didn't really have much else for Buck to do so they left him in this nothing relationship.

I really hope s8 is better all around not just for Buddie but for Buck and Eddie as characters. I hope that Tim plans to follow through and actually make Buddie a reality not just because so many people ship them because of how important for queer representation a ship like Buddie becoming canon could be. I also want to see Oliver actually get to play Buck in a relationship he's proud to talk about.

[azulock]

Oliver + lactation kink + cheating on your husband with this trash fire of a man? mark me in. I wrote this fast so if anything is weird that's why. this is just plotless porn essentially, but while was writing I couldn't help but think of dad!Oliver. maybe I'm gonna write more for this some day

summary. Oliver sometimes has more lust than inteligence, and fucking the pregnant wife of a member of the team's board of directors sure is a stupid move, but he can't leave you hanging when you look this pretty and needy, and if your husband isn't going to step up and give you some relief, he sure as hell will

pairing. Oliver Aiku x F!Reader

wordcount. 1.8k

warnings. nsfw (minors back off) cw: cheating (reader cheating on her husband), lactation kink, pregnancy kink (kinda), piv sex, unprotected sex, creampie

pregnancy needs.

Oliver knew he shouldn't be looking at you the way he did - hungry eyes, blown out with desire - but god, he had poor self control. it was wrong, he knew. you were a married woman. a pregnant one. The pregnant wife of one of his team's officers - some directors board member he only ever spoke to a handful of times. this was stupid, by all means. but it was even more stupid how your husband left you unattended to wait for him during those long ass board meetings.

So who could blame Oliver for staring? you were looking so good, softer features and a plump body, topped with breasts even bigger than they were before. how far along were you again? he'd say five, maybe six months, he wasn't all that sure. but you were already big enough to be clearly noticeable, and fuck, did you make it look good.

You were gorgeous, body filling your dress in the most delicious way. your ass and thighs had gotten fuller too, and Oliver wanted nothing more than to sink his fingers into your soft flesh. ok, maybe he wanted to sink something else in you too. but the desire to just touch you all over only got worse after your pregnancy started showing. you were glowing, and just one look made him want to dig his hands on you and never let go.

Which he sometimes did when he found you alone - sans the never letting go part, sadly, he had his limitations. whenever you were around Oliver stayed training for longer, left after his fellow teammates, always coincidentally finding his way to around where you were. empty locker rooms, far away bathrooms and forgotten storage closets were his best friends. though, when your husband had to travel for business, he always found himself on a different route back home.

Who could deny you after all? he couldn't. everyone knew pregnant women were needy - and they had every right to be, it ain't easy to grow and entire new life inside you. Oliver just couldn't bear the thought of you being left alone and unattended at such a delicate moment. such a cute thing, all plump and glowing, left to fend for herself when she needs support the most, such a cruel thing.

So of course, Oliver had to rectify that. feed your needs and desires, hungry fingers digging deep into your soft ass and thighs, pliable flesh welcoming his touch with a tender warmth. his thirsty lips drank from your mouth, tongue taking whatever you'd give, like he was given a taste of ambrosia and was desperately lapping for more. he held you sat on his lap and enjoyed giving you the treatment you so much needed.

His large hands traveled the expanse of your body, briefly caressing your swollen belly before they reached his favorite part. god, your tits had grown so big, he loved it, loved how soft they felt, so nice to his touch, he couldn't help his need to squeeze them roughly. though, when Oliver sunk his fingers in the plush flesh you whined - a noise that he admits, took a little while for his brain to recognize as pain.

"Oli," you protested, whimpering against his lips before he parted from the kiss to look at you, eyebrows furrowed together.

"What's the matter, pretty thing?" he asks, no longer squeezing your breasts but not letting go of them either. "they hurting?"

"Yeah, be careful," you whine and he just coos in response, gently caressing your heavy breasts. "they are so sore, 's too full of milk."

"Oh, no, no, no," he groans, laying kisses to your clothed breasts between each word. "we can't have that," Oliver adds, voice hoarse with desire and he can't resist giving your tits a soft squeeze, laughing when you whine in response.

God, he feels bad that you are sore, he really does, but you are so sensitive, it's so cute. and your comment about how your breasts are too full of milk only made him harder - something he didn't even think possible at this point. the thought of your beautiful tits spilling milk had his cock throbbing. he had to resist the need to just grope them hard until they left wet spots on your dress. yeah, they did look swollen full, and Oliver couldn't stop his desire to be the one to help you empty them. so he didn't stop it.

"but you know, maybe I could help with that," he says, digging his fingers into the neckline of your dress, pulling one plump breast out and giving it a wet kiss, dual colored eyes looking up at you from under heavy lashes.

You don't protest and Oliver takes that as a green light, kissing his way over your skin, to your enlarged areola, until his lips circled your sensitive nipple. a moan escaped your lips but he could tell it was pleasure so he waited no time to start sucking, one hand massaging your breast gently to coax the milk out. you whimper but don't try to stop him, fingers clutching to his broad shoulders. his opposite hand softly caresses your other breast over the fabric of your tight dress.

He can hear you panting, cock throbbing in his pants as his tongue laps at your nipple. Oliver can faintly taste something, but it's only a trace of what he wants. he tries massaging harder, slowly but surely putting more force on his movements - though, still being careful with your beautiful body. a part of him feels like he is milking you almost like a cow, your swollen breast so large it didn't even fit in his hand. but he was still doing his all to massage it.

When he finally feels your milk spilling into his mouth you both moan at the same time - you in relief and him in pleasure. your sink one hand in his soft hair, fingers treading between the locks as he drinks greedily, savoring the taste. and it's a good thing Oliver is so greedy with anything related to you, because the moment the milk starts spilling, it doesn't slow down - you really were backed up, poor thing. it's like a dam broke down and the more he massages your breast, the more milk flows, some spilling down his lips and trailing the curve of his stubbled chin.

You moan, pant and gasp, voice strained as you just let him drink his fill. meanwhile, Oliver can't stay silent himself, humming and grunting as he sucks and laps at your abused nipple. his cock is bursting, ready to break free from his pants, but he only stops drinking when the milk flow slows down, your soft breast now looking far less swollen. when he looks up, he finds your eyes, bringing you down for a rough kiss, his fingers soon digging inside your panties to find you already soaking wet.

It doesn't take long from there for Oliver to have his cock buried balls deep into your needy pussy, gummy walls sucking him in hungrily. you are so wet, so warm, stretching around his thick length to take the entire thing in down to the base. your soft pussy wraps around him tight, much like how his lips wrap around your other nipple, hand massaging your breast just the way he did to it's twin. while one hand is occupied with that task the other gropes your ass, helping you move up and down his cock.

You are so loud, so needy, almost desperate with the way your pussy clenches around his massive dick. if every pregnant woman is like you, then you are all sex crazed - kinda makes it weird how people view motherhood as this pure thing when it's making you this horny. it doesn't take much for milk to start spilling from your nipple into Oliver's mouth, the sound of your relieved moans mixing with those of your wet pussy. by this point, it's kinda hard to tell who is really milking who in this situation.

He fucks you hard and deep, just the way he knows you like it, all the while drinking up your milk as if he was dying from thirst. the taste of your milk mixed with the feeling of your wet pussy has his cock throbbing and twitching at a desperate rate. it felt too good, too much pleasure overwhelming his senses, between your moans, the way you tugged at his hair and the taste of your milk, Oliver could feel his brain melting. if things kept like this, he wouldn't last very long - no problem, he could always go again, make it a double feature.

Once again, Oliver only stopped sucking the milk from your tit when the flow slowed down. by the end of it his chin and mouth were wet, milk leaked down his neck, it stained his shirt and your dress, but he didn't care. with both hands free now he could move you with more ease, picking up the pace as he moved you up and down in time with his thrusts. soon enough, he was hitting your sweet spot repeatedly until he had you crying his name, gummy walls clenching around his cock as you came.

His name sounded obscene in your lips, and your needy cries sounded so vulnerable, they had his cock twitching, balls feeling tight and full as he grew more desperate. Oliver could feel the heat pooling in his core, his body chasing that pleasure high it wanted so much. you are whimpering from the overstimulation, clinging to him so tight, pulling your body as close to his as your swollen belly would allow.

It doesn't take much for him to snap, the combination of your fingers tugging on his hair, the smell of your body, and your warm walls quivering around him becoming just too much. white takes over Oliver's sight as he pulls you down, hips flush against his, burying his cock balls deep. his orgasm rocks his body, all his muscles clenching as he shot multiple thick ropes of cum inside your pussy, painting your walls white until the thick and sticky liquid started dripping out.

Oh, shit, if he kept going like this he'd be really risking his position in the team. but fuck, you just felt too good. holding your body so close to his, cock still buried inside your pussy, it's like he was in heaven. yeah, he was being stupid, but how could he give this up? if your idiot husband hadn't found out yet, he could keep at it for a little longer. someone gotta keep the pregnant lady satisfied, right? your loser husband clearly wasn't doing that - he never did, and thinking about it now, with how long this had been going, Oliver couldn't even be sure if the baby was his anyway.

[saintescuderia]

cross my heart (pt. 1)

in terms of positive thinking, shibuya gave us more sukuna content so here's this -

AKA - the story of how you were sent on a mission to kill none other than ryomen sukuna. things get a little more complicated when you end up saving his life. more than once.

unedited (i was too excited)

1 / bored idiots

And in the next line of stupid decisions the higher ups have made, they now decided they wanted to kill Ryomen Sukuna.

Which was fine. If they wanted to be stupid, that was between them and their stupidity. However, you liked to think that you were not stupid. Kill Sukuna? The Sukuna? Yeah, good luck. No amount of training would ever be worth matching that. You had once heard him set fire to an entire village by snapping his fingers because he was bored.

Bored.

Just like you currently were in this meeting that had been called for a discussion as to how they would carry out their next stupid decision to kill the very man they were supposedly calling King. Fucking idiots.

"It's gone too far! He has doubled his tax. And I've just had three women fall pregnant with child!" One man slapped his palm on the table. "Let's see the King of Curses try running a business!"

The image of Ryomen Sukuna counting stock and calculating cash flow made you want to laugh. Yes, you definitely could picture him hunched over a notebook going over the business accounts.

Then again, considering Kimo's line of work, you wondered about when forcing women into prostitution was considered a business?

"You're sneering again." You heard a whisper beside you and saw the familiar small face of your sister giggling at your side. "Your resting bitch face is raging."

"It's not resting. It's reacting to that fucking idiot." You said, nodding a short bald man who was waving a servant over for more drink. His name was Kami but you referred to mentally address him as such and now considered him Kimo.

As she poured his glass, Kimo unashamedly slapped her behind. She gasped but could do nothing. You felt your fingers curl around the blade at your side. If only Kimo's father was still alive then this idiot would not be considered a Head who makes actively makes you gag.

"You call everyone an idiot." You looked at you sister who spoke and was smiling up at you.

"Because, Eva, everyone acts idiotic." You said. She laughed quietly and shook her head. "By the way, you shouldn't be here." Eva's response was a frown before you shushed her out of the room.

Your kill tally was the only reason you were allowed in these meetings, standing quietly behind sensei as he acted as a Head for his sick uncle. You honestly wouldn't have taken as many jobs if it meant you now had to stand through these meetings. Then again, more jobs meant a better life for your little sister.

Eva's father had run off before she'd been born and when she had been born, your mother had died in childbirth. You then spent your entire life raising Eva - and trying to dissuade her guilt for feeling that she had murdered your mother.

Especially since, between the two of you, you were the real murderer.

"Why not the girl?"

At the mention of you, you finally stepped forward from your usual spot of brooding by the wall. At such a formal meeting with all the family Heads sat discussing such important matters, tradition was important. One dressed accordingly. One acted accordingly. One spoke accordingly.

So when you were called as the assassin to kill Ryomen Sukuna, you expressed your concerns in the appropriate manner.

"Excuse the fuck outta me?" You crossed your arms, feeling more offended by their sheer stupidity by the second. "And did you just refer to me as girl?"

There was a sigh. An older man with a tired smile looked at you. He said your name with a hint of plea in it. You looked at the man you considered your sensei. You called him Oribu for his love of olives and he only person in this room you wouldn't describe as idiotic. Looking at him you forced yourself to take a deep breath.

Then Kimo, the idiot, spoke again.

"When I said girl, I was referring to the younger one." He said, a mouthful of food. "She is much prettier and could perhaps pass as a concubine."

In less than a split second, a few things happened.

The flower on Kimo's dress shirt was sliced cleanly in half. A blade was embedded in the table. Your hand was thrown out. And your Oribu was in stance, blade drawn.

It took a second for the room to process what had happened, that Oribu had deflected your blade - that you had actually drawn a sword at a Head. Kimo looked down at the flower petals that were falling slowly to the table, gravity slowly making its effects known. You slowly stood up from your throwing stance, the sheath at your side very clearly empty and the blade embedded in the table emblazoned with your own signature crest.

Kami finally found it in himself to speak. "Ya! You dare draw a blade at me!" The rage was almost comical. You snorted.

"Yes." You said as if that was the most obvious thing ever. However, your eyes darted over to Oribu-sensei who looked slightly displeased. Sure, he never liked these things - and knew of the lengths you'd go to protect your sister - but he was always about violence being the last option. Which you found quite ironic considering, well, everything.

There was a sound of a chair being pushed back against the ground. You turned to where another man - was his name Raijin? something about thunderstorms - stared down at you. "You will speak accordingly!"

"He literally asked me a question." You said, gesturing at Kimo. There were some displeased sounds from around all the table heads and you sighed. "I'm sorry, if you guys have a problem then how about you go kill the bad guys then. Do you think I care?"

"Heartless bitch." Someone commented.

"Well, at least I'm not worried about getting blood under my fingernails." You sassed back. To make things even funnier, Kami had been in the process of looking at his nails and immediately looked caught out. You snorted a very unladylike snort. "Yeah, thought so."

"Oribu has told me of Eva's training." Raijin spoke. "She is exactly the sort of woman Ryomen Sukuna likes his concubines to be."

You really wanted to know how he knew that. You opened your mouth but thankfully, Oribu bet you to it. "Her skills are promising but... unripe." He said. "Uncle is yet to send her on a mission anyway. It's unlikely she would succeed with her first mission being such a powerful creature."

"Her sister did." Raijin said, curling his lip. You couldn't help the look on your face - was he not aware that his supposed insult was actually a compliment?

Gag.

"Why not she kill Sukuna then?" Kimo chimed in.

Ah.

You understood Raijin's comment. He wanted this for you. Killing Ryomen Sukuna was a promised death wish - and he wanted nothing more for your head since you humiliated him by turning down a proposal. So fucking petty.

Kimo turned in his seat to look you up and down. "You can pass as a cleaner or something."

"And you can pass as a failed abortion."

There was some uproar at your sass - why they were still surprised was beyond you - until Raijin stood up and held his hands in the air. You stared at him with your own disgusted look. This crusty, dusty ass motherf--

"So, all in favour for Y/N to kill Ryomen Sukuna?"

And, of course, they put their hands up in agreement.

Idiots.

[separatist-apologist]

Long Live

Summary: All archeologist Elain Archeron wants is answers about the past.

Fate is determined to give them to her

MASSIVE thank you @abbadinfluence for having the idea AND allowing me to write - I've had the time of my life, this has been so fun.

And @octobers-veryown for being my personal Rome/Italy consultant- thank you for your knowledge, your time, and most importantly, catching when I used a particularly offensive and/or wrong swear word

For @elucienweekofficial | Read on AO3 | Chapter 1

Elain waited until she and Arina were alone to turn to her friend. Arina was one step ahead of her. “We’re fucked,” she said in English, face devoid of any true color. “He’s basically got us under house arrest.” 

“They don’t trust us,” Elain said, taking an anxious breath of air. The last three days had been something out of a nightmare. They’d been arrested, put in chains, and then transported from the country estate to Rome, during which they’d been groped and threatened with assault more times than she could count. Elain had never known true fear until that first night outdoors, camping with a group of leering, bored soldiers. 

She couldn’t enjoy seeing Rome, well aware of where they were being taken. Mamertine Prison was a church in the present day, built over the bones of prisoners sent to languish while they waited out their sentences. Elain had expected some low level judiciary to come and decide their fate. Not the newly crowned Emperor himself, accompanied by his older brother. Nor had she expected Arina to react so viciously once they were so close to freedom.

“We simply have to convince them they can trust us.”

“And how do you intend to go about that?” Arina demanded, picking through the clothes set out for the two of them. They knew enough combined history to get through this, she decided. If they could convince the Emperor they were no threat, Elain believed they could make their way back where they’d started and get back to their own home before they changed history. 

“Well, for starters maybe we should stop biting patricians?” Elain said, rounding on her friend sharply. 

“He’s no better than the soldiers who dragged us up here,” she snarled furiously. “He saw two unprotected women and decided we must exist for his pleasure.”

“Of course he did!” Elain hissed softly. “They’ve never even heard the word feminism. You know women are not on equal standing with men. Stop biting them.”

“If he puts his finger in my face again—”

“No biting.”

Elain turned, looking at the spacious room that belonged to her and her alone. Arina had been given a suite just down the marbled hall but had immediately followed after Elain, prompting two servants to lay clothes out for the both of them nervously. Elain knew what was waiting and was desperate to put her hands on true, Roman garments.

“Why aren’t you panicking?” Arina demanded.

“What good would it do to panic?” Elain asked, tennis shoes squeaking against the marble. The heat coming from the nearby hanging lamps made the room feel warmer than was comfortable, and Elain was quick to fling open the shutters of her window so cool air could push in. “Besides…haven’t you always wanted to see Rome as it actually was?”

“Not really,” Arina said, trailing after Elain apprehensively. “Not like this. What if we can’t get back, Elain? Or worse, what if the Emperor decides to make us some other man's problem?”

“This is Rome. We’ll simply kill him if he tries,” Elain said with far more bravado than she felt. Her room overlooked the garden, replete with beautifully manicured hedges, rows of olive trees, and flowers so vibrant she almost didn’t believe they were real. 

“Elain, I’m serious. Aren’t you afraid?”

“Yes,” she admitted, turning back to the room made of marble and gold. Elain knew if Arina wasn’t so scared, she’d be examining the pillars and telling Elain all about the brush strokes and how the tiles beneath them had been cut. Elain, too, wanted to examine the palace piece by piece, committing it all to memory. Her phone was still in her pocket, the battery at seventy two percent. She could take pictures if she was careful…and then, what? No one would ever believe her.

Maybe just to have once she got home. 

“We need to leave,” Arina hissed, her urgency echoing through Elain’s skull. 

“What we need is to be careful. We were spared once, but I don’t think they’ll be so forgiving the second time. Better to play pretend and wait for our moment than to rush out and get thrown back into prison. Or worse.

Citizens were made slaves all the time, after all. Lucien could make them prostitutes in the eye of the law if he wanted and no one would be able to stop him. Here, at least, they had access to means and the privilege that came from being a patrician woman. 

“He could do horrible things to us,” Arina reminded Elain, standing in the middle of the room with her arms wrapped around her chest. “Things he might think are kind.”

“Then we simply have to convince him not to,” Elain replied, thinking it was easier said than done. “Women might not be allowed a true voice, but there are plenty of Roman women who ruled behind the throne. If we can make him care about us, we can thwart the worst of his machinations. He’s a new Emperor, he’s about to meet his wife…he won’t have a lot of time to spend worrying about us.”

“You’re right,” Arina breathed, closing her eyes before exhaling slowly. “If we blend in and give them no reason to think about us, we can slip out in the night.”

“Or better, he’ll put us on a horse with gold in our pocket.”

“So what now? We just…play dress up?” Arina questioned, finally turning toward the stola. “Drink wine and lounge in the sun?”

“We could explore the city?” Elain suggested, reaching for the red dyed garment. “Tell me, doctor. Where do you think the fabric of this dress comes from?” 

“Egypt,” Arina said, rubbing her fingers against the lenin. “It’s not silk.”

“If we could bring this back—intact—think of—”

“Are you crazy?” Arina hissed, cutting Elain off before she could finish her sentence. “We can do nothing. Make no suggestions, inform them of nothing, do not rip any wings off a butterfly. We aren’t supposed to be here, Elain, and we can’t go around meddling.”

“It’s not meddling. It’s history,” she protested. “And if we’re not supposed to be here, why are we here?”

“Maybe we’re not. Maybe we just ingested something toxic, breathed in too much lead. We’re probably in the hospital having a really vivid hallucination.”

Elain sat on the edge of the bed, sinking into the feathers and straw with delight. Covered in blankets, the mattress was softer than she might have imagined. “This isn’t a hallucination. It’s real.”

She’d thought the same thing when they’d first come through. Elain didn’t believe it anymore, though. They’d been gone for three days and some of her panic was beginning to subside into excitement. They were in Rome at the height of its power and living with the current emperor. Elain knew, from having memorized Lucien’s journals, that he would be meeting Helena soon if he hadn’t met her already.

She didn’t need to meddle—she could merely watch, go home, and reconstruct what she knew. If she could just find out what family Helena belonged to, Elain was certain she’d could piece together whatever tragic fate the empress met. 

Like he so often did, Graysen’s face wormed its way into her memories, flooding her with guilt. She needed to get back—where was her urgency? Arina certainly had it, pacing the room like a caged animal. She’d become wilder by the day, viciously spitting curses at the Roman soldiers who’d dragged them to the prison cell, and again when Eris had tried to touch her.

She was afraid in a way Elain simply wasn’t. She ought to be—oh, how Elain knew she should be scared. They were at the mercy of a time period that valued women even less than the one she’d just left, under the care of a man who didn’t know them at all. They had no one to vouch for them, no refuge in which they could seek shelter in. No one to advocate on their behalf. If they angered the Emperor, he could have them exiled or worse.

And yet…Elain simply wasn’t worried about any of it. She believed they’d be fine, that Lucien would continue to be hospitable, and they’d make their way back no worse than they’d come through. If she was honest with herself, Elain felt a small measure of relief. She didn’t have to make a decision about her own life so long as she was here.

Sure, Graysen would move on eventually, but Elain didn’t intend to be gone for years. Maybe just a month—long enough to have one last, grand adventure. Maybe living in Rome would put some things into perspective for her, besides. Help her make a decision on her own life and relationship.

What did it say about her that she didn’t miss him?

Nothing good.

“Bath?”

Arina threw her hands up in the air with exasperation. “You’re not taking our situation seriously.”

“I am. I’m just realistic. We can’t go anywhere and I don’t want to sit in a bedroom all day. Don’t you want to see how they lived?”

“No.”

“Liar.”

“The pipes here are made of lead, Elain. Lead. You’ll be drinking lead tainted water—”

“We’ve been drinking it for the last three days and I feel fine,” she replied, though it did worry her a little. “And we can drink more wine than water, if you’re really that concerned.”

“You want to bathe in lead tainted water?” Arina demanded.

Elain whirled on her friend, her frustration mounting. “There is no deodorant here and I smell like shit from two days of traveling and a night spent in an ancient prison. The water could have sharks in it and I’d still risk it.”

“You’re gonna dress up like a proper Roman lady?”

“Yes, because the alternative is letting them think we don’t belong, grow suspicious of us, and do something horrible. We need to play along, Arina…and we need to stop biting Consuls.”

“I hate him,” she snapped, crossing her arms over her chest.

Elain only shrugged, beckoning for her friend to follow her out of the bedchamber. The hall was brightly lit from both hanging lamps and nearby arched windows that allowed light and air to pour inside in equal measure. It was here that Arina seemed to relax a little, running her finger tips over the gold encrusted walls with awe. 

“Look at this,” Arina breathed, pausing beside a Corinthian style column. “To see it…just…wow.”

The pair touched the marble on the column, craning their necks to look up at the ornate estatis just at the top. The whole thing was pure decoration and though Elain knew it had been built a good several decades earlier, the marble was pristine and vibrant. 

“This is real,” Arina breathed.

Elain couldn’t help her smile.

This was real. 

LUCIEN: 

Lucien was having a difficult time focusing. He ought to be listening to important business of the empire…and yet his eyes kept sliding to the open window where Elena was, walking through his garden in a vibrant red stola. No one had done her hair and so she’d left it wild like a child, half hidden beneath a palla pinned into her dark curls. Lucien was so curious about why she wore it—he had it on good authority she wasn’t married. Was she widowed? 

Did she not know the custom? He was woefully uneducated about life in Brittana, perhaps all women wore the palla. Maybe she was worried about her modesty like a good Roman woman ought to be? The only way to know was to ask and Lucien couldn’t ask without revealing to the men around him that he’d rather spend his time talking to a woman rather than dealing with important matters.

But he did want that. He wanted to try and piece together her rather charming accent…and if Lucien was honest, he wanted to touch her. Wanted to touch the coils of curls blowing in the breeze, wanted to run a knuckle over her unblemished cheek just to see if her skin was as soft as it looked.

He wanted to do other things, too—things that were wholly inappropriate if he was to find a suitable husband for her and get her out of his home. And then he’d spend the rest of his life wondering what it was like to have a woman like that in his bed, until he inevitably took her as his mistress, pissing off whatever man he’d arranged for her in the first place.

Problems for future Lucien, certainly.

Turning his attention back to the room, Lucien’s eyes slid to the map laid out before him. He wanted to invade Germania and succeed where so many before him had failed. Taking that northern territory would allow him to hunt down the saxon’s that plagued his coastlines, too, and take back the treasure they’d been plundering. 

There were a few routes they could take in, but crossing the Rhine was Lucien’s preference. He’d been there during the first campaign and had assisted in building the bridge they’d used to cross—it had terrified the Germanic barbarians to see the might of Rome, sending them scattering further into the interior.

Lucien could build roads and bridges all he liked—getting through the forests was what plagued them. They didn’t have the tactical advantage and Lucien refused to go if defeat was the only path forward. If he was going to lose men, it was going to be in service of victory.

Agreeing to reconvene over wine that night, Lucien sent his advisors away for the time being, intending to meet with a few generals—and Jurian, who would lead his campaign—later that week. Just in time for the games to begin and spread the right amount of propagare that would convince the people of his authority.

Above all else, Lucien needed the backing of the people of Rome just as much as he needed the army. He was drowning in tasks, which didn’t explain why Lucien began his descent into the gardens the mere second he was alone. It was shameful to be so curious about a woman, especially one his brother had accused of being a whore and yet…Lucien’s father had always been especially taken with his mother. There had been no infidelity on his fathers end unless you counted the time he’d been sleeping with Amera while she’d been married to Beron.

Beron had divorced his wife for political reasons and Helion had merely swooped in and married her quickly and quietly before anyone could truly object. And then, when Beron was made Emperor, Helion took off for the outer provinces…just to be safe. It hadn’t been until Lucien had been a man and called back to the city that Helion dared to return, too.

Lucien just needed to know if another man had a claim to her. That was all—it was practical, he swore, adjusting his toga so the purple was especially vibrant in the afternoon sun. He knew he ought to cut his long, auburn hair to conform with the more fashionable short styles and yet…Lucien had left it long because he liked it. It had started on the battlefield, curling around his neck before the length straightened it all out. It had been a joke among the legion he was in—they always knew where Lucien was because of his lovely, effeminate hair. 

What had begun as a joke had somehow transcended Roman norms and though some of the older patrician’s threw him a dirty look now and again, the rest of them didn’t seem terribly bothered so long as Lucien kept it neat and pulled out of his face. No braids or beads like the barbarian’s wore, no adornments of any kind. When he worked, he often tied it off his neck in a bun to give the illusion of short hair.

At least it wasn’t a beard, he reasoned. 

He found Elain among the olive trees, one hand outstretched to touch one of the leaves. Lucien cleared his throat, hands clasped behind his back.

“Where is your friend?”

She turned abruptly, eyes wide. “She ah…” Elain bit her bottom lip. “She found the library.”

Lucien nodded. “Do you like to read?”

She shrugged. “I prefer being outdoors.”

“Do you spend much time outdoors?” he asked, noting the freckles dotting her nose. She must and yet her skin didn’t betray any of it. Most women preferred to stay indoors, far from the sun's vicious kiss that too often left their skin lined and leather-worn. 

“Do you?” she replied, looking up at him through thick, dark lashes.

Lucien offered her a lopsided grin. “Of course. Especially when I have diverting company. Walk with me?”

“Only if you agree to answer all my questions.”

Something warm spread through Lucien. As he’d risen through the ranks, women had begun treating him differently—respectfully. In his mind, he was always thinking of Jesminda and how he’d been just another nobleman’s son and no one special at all. She’d teased him, taunted him—had wanted him without any of the fake modesty he loathed. Lucien had been fortunate to marry for love, once, and having had a taste of true marital bliss, he didn’t want the Roman arrangement his peers often found themselves embroiled in. Jurian was all but married to a woman he barely knew. It was a good prospect for him, if for no other reason than it increased his social standing and available wealth. Lucien didn’t need to worry about any of that anymore, though he would be a fool if he thought he could snub the fellow patrician families and choose just anyone.

Including the beautiful woman standing beside him. She was Roman and yet he knew she had no connection to anyone of importance in the city. He might as well declare himself in love with a barbarian princess and be done with it.

And he wasn’t. In love with her, that is. He was merely fascinated by her mouth and the way her curls caught the sun, making them seem almost golden in the right light. And Lucien had to admit he liked the sound of her voice and the rolling way she spoke.

“I’ll answer anything you ask of me,” Lucien agreed, offering her his bare arm rather selfishly. He just needed to know if her skin was as soft as it looked. She beamed up at him, the prettiest thing he’d ever seen in his entire life, and accepted. Her fingers were warm, gliding over his bare bicep without a care in the world. What would she look like adorned in gold, he wondered?

“How are you enjoying yourself?” he asked before she could get one of her own questions out. He didn’t need to answer anything if he did all the talking. 

She considered his question and only after her silence stretched did Lucien consider that she did not speak Latin as well as he thought. He gave her space, walking her over a careful, stone laid path around the olive grove.

“Your hospitality has been generous,” she began carefully, fingers fidgeting in the pleats of her dress. “I’m sure Arina and I would be fine living somewhere on our own—”

“Who will protect you?” Lucien demanded, getting close to the question he was most interested in. “Two unmarried women shouldn’t be alone in the city.”

She nodded, not disputing his words.

Lucien pounced. “You’re not married?”

She glanced up at him, eyes narrowing. “No, I’m not married.”

“Why?”

She took a breath. “I have a fiance—”

“A what?”

She murmured something under breath in a language he didn’t understand. I forgot french hasn’t been invented yet. He didn’t like that Britanic language—it was too harsh, too angry to be coming out of such lovely lips.

“I am…sponsalia?” 

Lucien blanched. “To who?”

“He lives far from here.”

“And he let you leave unaccompanied?” Lucien demanded, thinking if he met this man, he’d kill him for his cowardice. What kind of man sent his future wife on the road alone where any number of horrible things could happen to her? No, that man was no man at all. Elain had been overtaken on the road and had she not found his home, who knew what might have happened to her?

Lucien didn’t want to think about it. 

“He trusts me,” she said foolishly. What did trust have to do with reality, he wondered?

“And look at how well that worked for you both,” Lucien replied, unable to keep the bite from his words. “You were set upon by bandits and then imprisoned for being a spy. If my brother had his way, you’d be working with the local prostitutes and your fiance would be disgraced to have ever been attached to you.”

Her cheeks reddened, not with shame like he expected, but anger. “Don’t do me any favors, Caesar.”

Why did he like it, he wondered? And yet… “Do you consider this a favor, Elena?”

“I did.”

“And now?”

She kicked a clod of dirt with her foot. “I feel like an imposition.”

“Disavow him,” Lucien commanded, halting in his tracks to look at her. “Say he means nothing to you.”

“I…”

“Disavow him and I will put the backing of Rome behind you,” he swore, wishing he had his sword to swear upon. 

“I can’t—”

“You will.”

It was wrong, perhaps, to force her into ending whatever marriage she’d been entered into. The bond clearly wasn’t strong if he was willing to risk his future wife. Perhaps he hoped something would happen to her. The thought angered Lucien.

“Please don’t,” she whispered, but Lucien’s mind was made up and he would not be denied. 

“Then call him to Rome to answer for his treatment,” Lucien ordered, certain she would not do that. Elain rounded on him, hands on her hips and he wondered with delight if she would deny him.

“So you can slaughter him?”

“You wound me. I believe in the rule of law—”

“What law did he break?” she demanded and oh. She had him there. Technically the man had done nothing other than offend Lucien. Wasn’t that enough? He was Emperor, why should he be offended by some man from Britannia that didn’t value his soon-to-be wife? 

“You broke laws,” Lucien reminded her, scrambling for anything that would give him validity. “Your father is responsible—”

“My father is dead,” she said, some of the fire in her eyes extinguished.

“Then your brother or uncle—”

“I have none.”

Lucien offered her a smile so saccharine it tasted sweet on his tongue. “Which leaves your soon-to-be husband to answer for your crimes. Call him or disavow him.”

Elain looked up at him, arms crossed over her chest. “And if I disavow him, what then?”

Lucien’s grin widened. “I would be delighted to accept responsibility for you and find a suitable husband.”

“A terrifying prospect,” she grumbled. Lucien was half decided on who he’d marry her to—no one he knew was good enough for her. Was he? He wanted to find out. The more she spoke, the longer he breathed the same air, only made him want her more. “Fine. I disavow him. He means nothing to me, I owe him nothing.”

“Would he mourn your death?” Lucien asked curiously, tilting his head to the side. She blinked, eyes strangely glassy.

“I don’t know,” she finally said as her tongue darted out to wet her lips. Lucien’s body went taut for a moment, eyes tracking the way she moved. He felt like a predator back on the killing fields, sword in hand even as he prepared to have his life ended. She could end him, too—not with a weapon but her words, a look, a touch. If she would not marry him, Lucien would take her in any way he could get her. He would deny he’d touched her if that's what she asked, would keep her as an ornament in his home and raise their illegitimate children. She had no father, no brother, no husband. No man who could deny him, though Lucien could not have been denied even if she did. 

Reaching for her chin, Lucien forced Elain to look at him. Elena, he thought with pleasure. She’d need a more Romanized name to be accepted by the people. Would she like Helena, he wondered? He was getting ahead of himself and yet Lucien felt settled.

Pleased, too.

Holding her gaze, he said, “I would mourn you.”

“You don’t even know me,” she replied, drawing a soft, shaking breath.

Lucien shook his head. “I feel the opposite. I feel as if I’ve known you my whole life.” Like he’d been waiting for her. Guilt slithered through him, hot and oily as he remembered Jesminda. He’d once said the same thing about her. Was he the kind of man who could forget love so quickly? Lucien couldn’t help his foolish heart. Looking at the woman beside him, far paler than she’d been when they’d first begun talking, he knew he had his work cut out for him.

He could demand her hand—could assert himself as the sole authority over her and then demand she wed him. And Lucien could imagine just how well that would go. He’d have her in his bed, but she wouldn’t be willing, wouldn’t want him. He knew plenty of men with disinterested wives, who submitted out of duty but not desire. Having tasted love with Jesminda, Lucien wanted it again. Wanted it so badly he was willing to toss out tradition, at least until she got to know him better. 

“Come,” he said with an easy smile, “let me show you the fountain. It’s my favorite.”

—

Arina didn’t care what Elain said—they needed to leave. Elain was too struck by the history of it all that she’d forgotten they were living in an ancient human civilization that was so far removed from their own that any number of horrible tragedies might befall them. Elain had, if nothing else, seen the toilet situation.

Holed up in the Emperor’s library, Arina forced herself to sit in a chair that was deeply uncomfortable, a book laid across her lap. On any other day, finding a first edition transcription of Aristotle’s teachings would have been a dream—she could touch it. Now, though, Arina couldn’t even enjoy herself. 

In truth, she was terrified. Obvious problems aside, they had no way to get back, no way to escape. There were far worse things between Rome and the estate they’d broken into beside just Lucien and his army. But if they could steal a horse, could get some coins…well. Arina figured they could be long gone before anyone in the capital even realized they were missing.

And with some knives—ideally with poisoned blades—they’d be in decent shape. They couldn’t take on a good swordsman, but how many highway robbers were any better than them?

Arina heard the sound of leather on marble, heard the high, bronze doors open and without seeing who came in, she just knew. Eris. He was the blueprint for all modern Italian men—arrogant, certain of his own greatness, and desperate for a woman to subjugate. Just like her father, she thought darkly. He strolled in, dressed like the immaculate senator he was. Did he know that Arina knew everything about him? The would-be Emperor, ousted by his own father who knew ahead of time, had planned to kill his son. He hadn’t suspected Eris had conspirators, but he had destroyed every soldier who might have taken the city for Rome and alerted Helion who then moved quickly to ensure his own son took the city before it could fall into the hands of some hated rival. 

Eris survived—thrived, even. He lived just as long as his brother, had a whole host of children with a foreign born woman known only to history as Agripina, and seemed generally happy in his later writings. Arina had never cared much for this period of time outside of the art, the sculptures, the architecture. Now, though?

Well, Arina would be an expert at this rate. 

Eris made his way into the large atrium, amber eyes finding hers. His impassive expression shifted into a frown, his disdain plain. 

“Who taught you how to read?”

Arina cocked her head and smoothed her blue stola beneath her hands. “Are you looking for lessons?”

She really shouldn’t test him—knew that he could make her life exceptionally difficult. And yet it was fun to see his gaze sharpen and his spine straighten as he recognized the challenge. 

Striding toward her, Eris plucked the book from her fingers to examine the writings. “What do you know of Aristotle?” Arina wanted to laugh in his face. More than he did, she’d wager. “Enough.”

He handed the book back, closing the leather bound cover carefully before doing so. It was tempting to tell him that his own wife would be so literate that in his final years, she was the one who wrote down his every thought. 

“You’re excused,” Eris informed her dismissively, turning toward the arching windows overlooking the garden. He made his way toward them, hands folded behind his back, to do the same thing Arina had been doing—spying on Elain and the Emperor. 

Elain was so beautiful that every man who saw her fell a little in love with her. It wasn’t unusual for men to stop Elain on the street spouting sonnets about her beauty or begging for just ten minutes of her time. If Elain wasn’t careful, he’d be demanding she marry him before the week was out and they’d be in real trouble. 

Arina rose to her feet, unwilling to argue with Eris. She couldn’t argue with him as far as she remembered. His word was law even in this place, and even over her. 

“Che cazzo,” she hissed under her breath, well aware Eris had no hope of deciphering the actual meaning of her words. Italian wasn’t a language anyone spoke yet. Eris’s head whipped around all the same, eyes narrowed to slits.

“What barbarian tribe are you actually from?” he asked, crossing his arms over a broad chest.

Adopting her most brain dead smile, Arina said, “I’m sure I don’t know what you mean.”

“That language…” he wrinkled his nose with disdain. “Is lingua latina not spoken even as far North as Britannia?”

Arina couldn’t help her laugh. If only he knew. “But of course.”

“Tell me.”

“Why? So you can accuse me of any number of untrue things?”

Eris took a soft breath, nostrils flaring. “If I swear not to accuse you?”

“I would still lie,” Arina replied with that same saccharine smile. “Surely you understand the importance of speaking multiple languages? Or can you not speak Greek?”

“I don’t speak any of the barbarian languages—”

“Yet,” she interrupted, holding his gaze. “But who knows? Maybe in five years you’ll need someone who can.”

“What were you really doing in my brother's home?”

Arina’s eyes slid over his shoulders, toward the dots that were Elain and Lucien standing before a marble carved fountain. Studying it. She so badly wanted to tell him the truth—to tell someone all of her fears, of the nightmare she currently found herself in. She couldn’t. Arina pressed her lips shut, eyes returning to the man standing before her.

“I’m going to find out,” he warned her softly. “I’m a terrible enemy to have.”

She only shrugged, heart thudding roughly in her chest. “I’ve already told you everything. I’ll leave you to your thoughts.”

She was nearly at the door when he called out, “‘Che cazzo.’ What does it mean?”

His Italian wasn’t awful—certainly less offensive than when Graysen had bid her a good day in the choppiest drawl she’d ever heard in her life. Arina knew better than to tell him the truth, and yet…

“Capitium,” she said, using the Latin for little head as Eris’s expression darkened. Dick. She could call a man a dick in every language. 

Pleased with herself, Arina attempted to flounce from the room, satisfied she’d at least cut Eris down to size. It didn’t solve any of her problems but it did make her feel better.

She was nearly to the hall when strong fingers wrapped around her bare arm, pulling her back flush against his chest.

Lowering his mouth to her ear, Eris murmured, “The next time you reference my cock, I’ll assume you’re asking to see it.”

“You disgust me,” she whispered without thinking.

He only chuckled, low and soft. He smelled nice, a mix of spices she didn’t immediately recognize. Shouldn’t all men reek of body odor? This one, especially, ought to smell like sewage given how handsome his face was. 

“I’ll bet you’d say that on your knees.”

Arina elbowed him roughly in the ribs, certain he would do nothing but let her go. There was the faintest echo of outrage etched on his features, but more horrifyingly, she found something that read like a challenge gazing back at her. That was dangerous, especially in a place where men could do whatever they liked to women under their protection. 

Forcing herself to smile, Arina wrenched from his grasp to look up at the tall warrior gazing back at her. “If you put your cock in my face, you’ll regret it.”

“Such a filthy mouth,” Eris all but crooned, undeterred by the threat. “I look forward to using—”

She knew better. Oh, Arina knew better even back home, than to slap a man. It was dangerous back home where men were prone to violence when provoked—and literally anything might provoke them.

It was worse, here. He already thought her a barbarian, knew she had no male relative to watch over her, and just barely tolerated her. The two of them stood there, chests heaving as a patch of red bloomed across his cheek. Arina’s palm stung from the force of the blow, hidden behind her back as if she could take it all back.

Bracing herself for his fury, Arina steeled her spine even as she flinched back. Eris watched, head slightly cocked, his own hand rising not to strike her back, but to touch his face. Arina wasn’t going to apologize—he had no right to speak to her that way.

And still, she was scared. 

Eris exhaled through his nostrils. “Watch yourself,” he warned her, lifting his chin as though that might salve his wounded pride, “or I’ll put you in the military since you want to fight.”

Arina exhaled the breath she’d been holding. “I—” I’m sorry. “Of course.”

Eris gestured for her to leave, turning his head and Arina, not willing to stick around and test his good will, tripped over the skirt of her dress in her haste. At the end of the hall, she turned to look over her shoulder, surprised to find him still standing in the archway.

Watching.

[h50europe]

I wish fans would stop dissecting Buck/Tommy scenes but enjoy them for what they are: flirty banter between two lovers. Oliver stated in an interview he and Tim agreed to keep this relationship on the lighter side, more like a rom-com.

But no people go and dissect it like an alien discovered by NASA in a backyard.

When Tommy throws the line, "God, I hope so," he is nothing but hinting at the age difference, which is, give or take, about 7 years. So what? Seven years is nothing. Still, Tommy refers to it but means it as a joke. And Buck even blushes a little.

I can't remember we've ever seen Buck that flirty and all smiles whenever he and one of his many GFs where together. Can't the pearl clutchers be happy for him because he is finally who he is? Without having to hide a part of his sexuality that he kept buried deep inside before he met Tommy. A side he couldn't even show to Eddie. A side he knew was there but never dared to explore? Tommy came into Buck's life and opened this cage. He understands Buck on a totally different level than Eddie ever could. We see that Eddie has no gaydar. He was also clueless about Tommy being gay. Being so close to Buck, like the tin hats want them to be, he must have realized that Buck isn't only into women but guys as well. "Buddie" lived practically out of each other's pockets. And not once did Eddie ask, "Could it be that you aren't just into girls?" In a serious manner, not as a joke.

How about dissecting Eddie's dating "issues" with the doppelganger of his deceased wife? Does this imply Eddie's into necrophilia? This is ridiculous. It would be only one of their reactions. The nicer one, I guess. But it is no different from their daddy-kink nonsense.

What's wrong with these tin hats who are constantly complaining about LIs in general. No matter if it's Buck or Eddie? Shoving your favorite ship down everybody else's throat is the opposite of being open-minded and tolerant.

If Buddie should ever become canon, they will need a lot of patience. Eddie suffers from PTSD and is mentally unstable. Now, he lost his son. He has so much on his plate already. The last thing he needs right now is Buck coming over him like a force of nature and telling him he loves him. That would be the final straw if you want to see him end up in a loony bin. Eddie has to be on his own for some time to find out what and who he really wants. Something that would have to be stretched at least over a few episodes, if not over a full season. If it should be realistic. It took them 100 episodes to address Buck's bi-sexuality. And we saw hints here and there. We never saw hints of it concerning Eddie. Why do these "fans" think you can turn him bi from one moment to the other? Like Oliver said, it's not what he wanted for his character that Buck is bi, and suddenly, everyone else around him has some sort of sexual awakening. Since when can't a bisexual or gay man can't have a heterosexual bestie?

Also, bashing and harassing an actor for a part he is playing shows how sick these tin hats are. Or do they really think they could scare him off the show with their immature behavior and their unfounded hatred? Such behavior never ended a series character, let alone made a showrunner diverge from his plans and suddenly turn his show into a fan service-only show. Get a life ASAP, you tin hats and spread your toxic behavior among your ilk. It's not our fault you're leading a sad life full of envy and h*te. I am so sorry for you all. Fueled with so much anger must turn you into embittered personalities with no fun and no friends. How many of you opened sock puppet accounts to have at least someone to talk to? Living in an echo chamber can be exhausting at times...

[dairymistress05]

Colin: A Search For Purpose in the Wrong Places

Colin Bridgerton is both handsome and charming so why is he often grasping for his place in the world?

From the beginning there is a common thread of insecurity attached to Colins character. He seems to struggle to know exactly where he fits, to find his purpose.

So where do these insecurities come from? Well to start, he is sort of the “forgotten middle child” in a way, he is the 3rd son after which are 2 daughters. While he and Daphne seem close, as they were close as young children, now that they are older Daphne is having her debut and becoming a woman in society. All while Colin is also there but there’s no significance for him becoming an adult. Daphne is often treated like a first child as she is the first girl after 3 boys and the first to debut in the marriage mart.

First he tries to find his place in becoming a husband, in parallel to Daphne. It’s possible he feels unseen while she is emerging into adulthood. He doesn’t know where he fits but if he vows to take care of someone, he will fit in, right?!

He is intrigued and infatuated with and Wants to “rescue” Miss Thompson from her older admirers and be her saviour, this is all before he knows about her “condition”. AND when he finds out he only wishes that she had been truthful with him. “You wish to know the cruelest part of your deception? If you had simply come to me and told me of your situation, I would have married you without a second thought. That is how In Love I believe myself to be. But I see now that was all a lie.” Read — Fixer! He wants to be the Hero, to be needed.

Following this betrayal Colin is once again set adrift and begins his travels. He has also sworn off women, as he later admits to Pen and is attempting to know himself better. This interaction is very telling to his feelings towards Pen because she says “I am a woman” to which he responds with “You are Pen, you are my friend, you do not count”. — yes this seems to some as not regarding her as worthy — but actually this hints at something else entirely. It’s an effort to separate her because in his recent context “a woman” lied to him and betrayed him and Pen would surely never do to him what Marina did.

At this point it is extremely telling that Colin is beginning to find his true self. However, part of that self is directly intertwined with his connection to Pen. “If Penelope can see me this way, then surely I can too”. She is arguably his most valued and influential female relationship outside of his family. Colin here is struggling to understand himself and his place in society and to contextualise what Pen means to him. All of this at a time in his life when he is struggling to keep afloat.

He visits Marina he seems awkward and is once again reminded of his “out of placeness”. He makes an adorable olive joke (He is such a dork!) and nerds out about plants with Sir Philip. He is more interested in their conversation than he was with anything he was talking to Marina about. Furthermore, while visiting he seems surprised and almost disappointed that Marina is well. Like what did you think was going to happen? You were you going to save her from her life? Babies and all? Honestly, Marina isn’t wrong when she calls him “a boy caught up in his own fantasies.”

His visit with Marian was a wake up call hut he is still left without the purpose he was seeking.

“After all, everyone else is finding some purpose to their lives…and here I am feeding the ducks.” This leads him to his interaction with Jack and culminates in his “saving” the Featherington ladies which leaves him feeling like a hero.

In all his following interactions with Pen in the second part seem to hint at his feelings, (whether he knows it himself or not) he loves her.

“…Our relationship has taken shape so naturally over the years, one could take it for granted. (Hint at season 3)

You have been so constant and loyal Pen”. And his “Lady Crane was right about you…” He very clearly doesn’t understand his friendship with her but it is important to him.

Outside of his family, Colin doesn’t seem to have strong relationships. This becomes even more apparent when he is spending time with his “society buds”. All along while he seems to be able to navigate society with ease, he has often always been on the fringes and his relationship with those guys just exaggerates this fact. One comment made at Lady Danbury‘s ball saying “you are much much more fun this season”. It’s unclear clear if Colin ever really socialised with the “society buds” prior to the end of season 2 much at all. He likely didn’t though, because had he spent much time with them in season 1, he wouldn’t have jumped into proposing to Marina so quickly. So his comment about “never dream of courting Penelope Featherington”, a misguided last ditch effort at fitting in? Maybe!

It is Colin going away again, only for Pen not answer his letters this time that helps to highlight his feelings of isolation. Imagine, writing to the one person you most want to feel connected yo and getting nothing in return, heartbreaking. It’s not a wonder he “puts on armour”. When Penelope was answering his letters, he held onto the pieces of himself that she most appreciated. When she wasn’t answering his letters, he lost himself trying to find his identity apart from her. This resulted in him trying on a persona that no one recognised. When she tells him it’s been vexing to see him back into society if you watch his face in that moment, it’s almost like she slapped him and you can see his facade cracking for a second before he offers to help her.

Each time he was home, regardless of feeling without a purpose, he was constantly finding comfort in Pen. We see it in the way he goes to her “like a moth to a flame” at every possible opportunity. Colin has always been at ease when speaking with Pen. He appreciates her humour, he enjoys her mind and tries to make her laugh. There is even an example of this in season 2 where philosophising and Eloise is like do not encourage him (but not only does Pen enjoy encouraging him because they match wits very well) Colin also genuinely seems to be hanging on her every word. Until he was no longer afforded those words.

Finally it was those very words that led him to realise that he didn’t need to be useful in order to be loved. That by being truly himself, He. Was. Enough. All this time she had always loved him AND he had loved her, he just didn’t see it. Colin found that seeing himself the way that Pen had always seen him was how to find where he belonged.

In this way, he found his purpose. It was to love assuredly, fervently, loudly. That true love is Not about being needed, but about being Chosen by his best friend, the only one who truly saw him and loved him exactly as he always had been.

[myrandom-fandomlife]

Okay I decided I’m just gonna post my cooliver fic as is and if you want more i’ll attempt to provide so ummm here’s my cooliver fic loosely based on wish you were sober by conan gray but title is from illicit affairs by taylor swift because it was supposed to be more than this

Warnings: underage drinking, cursing, making out (???), angst

for you i would ruin myself (a million little times)

They’re at a party they shouldn’t be at, drinking just a little too much, and dancing with girls that look like they came out of a victoria secret advertisement. They’re living every seventeen year old boy’s dream, so why can’t they stop looking at each other?

Oliver knew he was fucked the moment Cooper suggested they sneak out to attend some rich douchebag’s party who lived within walking distance of the Otto home. It goes the same way every time. They sneak out of their basement apartment together (which is shockingly easier than he expected), get drunk, and something happens.

That’s how he finds himself with a sweaty girl rubbing all over him while he’s making blazing eye contact with Cooper across the room. It’s the kind of look that means something more, sparking heat and making his gut twist. It’s the kind of look that should not be shared between two best friends while they’re drunk and dancing with women.

Cooper quirks a brow almost imperceptibly, but Oliver knows what it means: “Cut the bullshit– let’s bounce.”

Oliver gives a small nod and dismisses the girl in front of him with a brief whisper, starting toward where Cooper is already waiting for him at the door. It’s clear to him already that Cooper is much more intoxicated than he is. His cheeks are flushed, his hair is curling and sticking to his forehead with sweat, and his eyes are shining in a silent plea to hurry so they can get home. Oliver thinks he’s never seen anyone more beautiful in his life.

Oliver has an arm around Cooper’s waist, supporting him as he stumbles along. Oliver is more of a lightweight, but Cooper likes this. He likes not drinking so much that he forgets everything, but just enough that he can lean his head on Oliver’s shoulder without overthinking too much. He likes the way it makes him feel weightless, but there’s something a little sultry about him when he’s just the right amount of tipsy.

When the two boys arrive at the front door to the Otto’s house, Oliver gives Cooper his usual spiel on sneaking in quietly. He places both his hands on Cooper’s shoulders, forcing him to make eye contact, “Keep quiet until we are in the basement, okay? No stumbling, talking, giggling, anything that could wake mom.”

“I’m not that drunk, mi amor, I know the drill,” Cooper says lowly, and Oliver’s cheeks flush at the nickname.

Cooper smirks and Oliver rolls his eyes with a huff, “Really?”

“Really,” Cooper says faintly, because he’s leaning in and closing the distance between them before Oliver has the chance to react. When he does react, he’s kissing back enthusiastically, tongue poking out slightly to brush against Cooper’s lips.

This happens often now, when one or both of them are drunk. They make out sloppily, get themselves worked up, stop before it can do further, and then go to bed like nothing happened. They wake up the next day and don’t talk about it.

Cooper starts trailing kisses down the other boy’s jaw, causing Oliver to snap out of the haze he can never avoid when it comes to Cooper.

“Let’s take this inside, yeah?” He says softly, taking Cooper’s hand and leading him quietly into the home they now share.

When the door to the basement is shut, Cooper pushes Oliver into it, attacking his mouth once again. Oliver lets out a small noise of shock before melting into the kiss.

Cooper sighs into his mouth, “Missed this,” and then he starts kissing across his jaw again. Oliver’s head falls back at his words, and Cooper takes advantage of the access to his neck.

“No-” he pants, “No marks, Cooper.”

Cooper groans, “Love when you say my name.”

“Cooper,” he makes another noise at that, “Lets go to the bed.”

By the time they’ve stumbled over, their shirts are off and Cooper is on top of Oliver. He’s peppering kisses down Oliver’s chest and Oliver is trying very hard not to enjoy it so much. Cooper gets to his waistband and tries to tug it down, but is stopped by the other boy.

“Coop, we’re not doing this when you’re drunk.”

“I told you, I’m not that drunk.”

“This doesn’t happen when you’re sober,” Oliver snaps, immediately regretting his words.

Cooper recoils slightly, but doesn’t disagree. Instead, he rolls off of Oliver and on to his pillow.

Oliver starts to get up and go to his own bed but he’s stopped by a hand on his wrist, “Stay with me, Ollie, please?” Cooper says it in a small voice like he knows he’s asking for something he shouldn’t. He also knows that Oliver can’t say no to him.

Oliver stays.

[slutburn]

can we the people have your catton quick headcanons can be nsft if you like or just seperate felix and oliver headcanons i hunger for them. 🛀🏼

cheers

x

sorry this took so long, i wanted to give you good ones! cattonquick is my lifeblood atm, those will be at the end:

oliver:

oliver didn’t decide on a big grand plan to lie to felix beforehand. he’s more just impulsive than some kind of evil mastermind. felix wanted to know about his family & because he felt they were unremarkable, oliver made stuff up. it snowballed into something much bigger when felix pulled away and he felt the need to continue lying. we saw how the professor responded to his background — he’s probably gotten this response all his life when he’s talked about himself to people he wants to impress. oliver didn’t think that felix would be invested in their friendship long enough for his lies to matter.

oliver is a bottom. this is just an infallible truth in my mind. i don’t want to elaborate or overanalyze it lol

oliver is gay — the only reason he makes any romantic or sexual advances towards women is because of their connections with felix. i don’t think he really thinks about sexuality, he just gets impulses and all of them are towards men

oliver has to masturbate a lot. being around felix who’s constantly teasing and flirting with him is rough. every day is a challenge, especially at saltburn. does he lock his own door? that’s for you to decide..

farleigh is the first out lgbt person oliver has known who’s not made to be an outcast because of it. it’s another reason he’s jealous of him.

felix:

felix is bad at kissing and bad at sex. emerald fennell said this herself. he doesn’t need to be good at any of it because girls (and guys) will still want him regardless. but i like to think that sex between him and oliver changes things bc im a romantic at heart lol.

felix is truly, genuinely unaware of how much he takes advantage of people. his life has always been made easy so why would he not just enjoy the attention? it’s not like he’s forcing people to be do things for him, they’re offering themselves up to him. no need to overanalyze why people love you so much.

felix went to boarding school — i’ve always assumed this means it was an all boys school. this is why he’s so good at unabashedly, publicly flirting with oliver. felix had his first kiss with a boy and he’s had all kinds of experiences with boys. maybe he even lost his virginity to a boy.

CATTONQUICK:

JSYK @leiflitter’s you’re almost home has basically become canon fix-it in my head so read these with that in mind. also if you want a1 cattonquick headcanons, i reblogged theirs a few posts ago

once people know that they’re together, felix and oliver are always holding hands or touching each other. but you’ll never see them kiss in public.

felix is the one to propose. it’s only appropriate given oliver’s insatiable need to be wanted, and this would be the truest form of want and love that felix can give to him after keeping him at a distance for so long.

felix loves for oliver to wear his clothes. we know this. even when they’re married and live together, with their OWN CLOSETS, felix will hand oliver his own sweater to put on after they have sex and he’s going to pee. oliver doesn’t protest.

oliver loves when felix ties him to the bed. he can stay that way for hours, felix giving him sips of water in between sessions of whatever he’s decided to do to him

they love movie dates. oliver always wants to pick a scary one because felix is easily scared & it’s hilarious to watch this 6’5” man yelp and spill his popcorn in the theater over jump scares

[baddygab-bi]

My theory is that Eddie is going to be written as an ever straighter man in 7x05. Based on the leaks (however true they are), it seems like I’m going to be right, but I was thinking all of this before the leaks came out. I won’t say what they are, only the things I’ve been thinking for weeks or things that can be easily assumed based on writing and plot. (Also please don’t send me more spoilers, I want to have some surprise)

In s7 so far, Eddie has been seen as a guy who married a woman. I thought the line “you mean slept with,” was weirdly included to show that Eddie likes to sleep with women. Also he enjoys cars, martial arts, going to the bar, and basketball. Can queer men like these things? Of course, Tommy does, Buck does (mostly), but the point is that they’re seen as stereotypically straight-man stuff, which is why it’s more shocking that Tommy and Buck are queer. They’re giving Eddie more traits to make him ever more masculine. They mention his girlfriend a lot and show them standing pressed-up against each other.

We all know that Buck is going to come out to Eddie in his loft. I can 100% see them having Eddie being the very supportive straight best friend to Buck, because I think the show wants that dynamic of “queer man and best friend face no awkwardness, just support and love.” To show the audience that two men, even one who’s bi can still have a close best friendship with another man without it going romantic.

Oliver and Tim both said things along the lines of the crush not being on Eddie, no plans for buddie right now. Ryan said (around the time of shooting this episode) they’re going to be closer than ever, which I assumed weeks ago was that Eddie is going to call Buck brother in that loft scene. Closer than ever? They haven’t recently defined their relationship at all, so being referred to as brothers would definitely fit that mark. This also would create deniability for the writers not making buddie canon, because “they’re brothers.” Oliver also said “if one character realizing his bisexuality” and I know he was talking specifically about people’s reactions to Buck, but the singularity of it made me instantly think that he’s the only one exploring his sexuality this season.

Next, we know Eddie and Marisol have a sexy time moment in this next episode because the actress posted a picture. Easiest way for the audience to see Eddie as a straight man? Have sex with a woman. “But Buck had lots of sex with women and he’s bi!” True. But you have to think of it as a general audience, mainly straight, viewer. Woman = not gay. Especially with what (according to leaks) seems like the plot will be more about Eddie wanting sex than the other way around. We know he and Shannon had a good sex-life and that it’s implied that he and Ana hooked up at least once if not more. He’s no Buck 1.0, but when it comes to Eddie’s sex-life, the writers aren’t shying away from him being seen as a manly man.

In the promo we see him and Marisol at the restaurant and the one thing I noticed first was the fact that Edy’s shirt is low cut and her push-up bra is truly doing the most. Like half of her boobs are just totally out. Wardrobe dressed her to look all sexy (they very likely provided the bra too), to show that Eddie is a typical dude-bro with a hot female girlfriend. In an episode that Ryan mentioned included something about intimacy, and from what I know of the leaks, it’s really digging into the fact that men have sex with women and it’s all the show that Eddie is here for that.

If buddie ever goes canon, the earliest I can imagine things even starting on Eddie’s side would be season 8. I think Marisol is here to stay until further notice, which makes me sick, but I’m theorizing that the “looks at their relationship closer” thing will be him asking her to move in, because that’s the only thing it can be. From what we’ve seen and heard, their relationship is going good, and even though these writers have lost the plot (literally and metaphorically), because it’s been less than 5 months of dating and they’re still getting to know each other, they think that seems like the next step in their relationship. It once again will highlight the way they want Eddie to be seen as a macho guy. I know so many people are thinking that the writers are just putting Eddie through this relationship to show that he’s a repressed queer man, but i don’t agree. I mean, yeah he could been repressed, but I don’t think that’s why the writers are doing what they’re doing. I think we’re trying to find something that they’re not giving us, because what they’re giving us just feels so wrong with everything else we know about Eddie so far and where his story was leading to in s6.

Plot wise, buddie still made the most sense. Past tense. The end of season 6 really fucked with things to the point where had they gotten rid of both girlfriends, it would’ve been fine, but it still feels like Buck and Eddie are too separate right now for it to go romantic as it is right now. But as for partners, yeah, Buck and Eddie will always make the most sense for each other in theory. In practice though, the show does have to worry about ratings and hopefully the reactions to Buck show them that they don’t have to worry about it negatively affecting the show, but I just really don’t think that they’ll have Eddie be anything other than straight because they’ll lose fans that way. Granted it’s homophobic fans, and they’ll gain more queer fans, but when you think about the business side, the numbers would jump too much. I love how much we all love watching 911, but people watching through pirated links, illegal streaming sites, tumblr gifs, TikTok’s, and uploaded google files, while they are obvi massive fans, aren’t considered in the viewership counts. The show may gain a huge influx of viewers if Buddie happens, but the numbers they’re looking at aren’t tumblr users, they’re people watching on Hulu and live TV. Which tends to be people in older demographics, people they risk losing if they have the other “hot straight firefighter” “go gay.”

This isn’t to be negative. I love buddie. I love BuckTommy right now too. I’ll be so sad when Tommy leaves. I’m just trying to be realistic because I can see so many people getting their hopes up, and not just in a fun shipping way, but in a real way where they’re confident buddie is going to happen this season. I’m so scared for the show and everyone’s heartbreak when it doesn’t happen.

[waeirfaahl]

Some little thoughts about Hellfire and its singer

Quite unexpected guest for my duscussing. I don't think that I'll tell something new about this antagonist and his song, so I'll focus on some tiny moments that I find interesting. Maybe somebody noticed this, but I'll mention this. Still this character is one of those, who kinda formed my tastes in what the good and threatening enemy has to be.

Judge Claude Frollo is awesome in his monstrosity. He is really well-written not just as antagonist, but also as a character. The way how he is presented, how he looks, how he acts and how deep and cold his voice, I would genuinely believe that judge Frollo is a manifestation of the unnatural death. Not natural one, which is a force of nature that values a life and keeps balance in own quite severe way, but exactly the unnatural death that exists due to the ignorance and malice of human nature. He embodies all dark aspects of human nature, yet he is self-contained, deep and realistic character, what makes him so terrifying.

Why he is the way he is — racist, sexist, chauvinist, hypocrite, narrow-minded fanatic, liar and murderer? I don't think that we need a backstory, because the answer is simple — Frollo is the result and the product of both his time (Middle Ages, hence religious dogmas) and his own decisions. Although, the line about his desire to make the world "pure from vice and sin" and the fact that he is a judge for like 20+ years (and has no claims for getting more power) imply a king is okay with this, so there's the possibility that Frollo could start as more or less devoted, fair-minded and good in his work (and that France really was in horrible conditions, plus wars), but than older he got, than more he got ruthless and blind to his own mistakes and crimes, using his authority for oppression and literal genocide instead of punishing exactly criminals. And, well, his words about cruelty of the world make sense, so you can agree with him in that aspect. I can't tell for sure, whether Frollo is a psychopath or sociopath, although he has some traits of narcissism (at the same time the only living being that Frollo genuinely liked and cared about is his black stallion Snowball); and his view of religion and rationalizing in some senses has some parallels with worldview of Oliver Cromwell, but what I can tell for sure — his arc is in falling into the madness due to own narrow, fanatical, sick and twisted mind despite many events that could change him and save from this path. I don't know, whether the authors did that intentionally or accidentally, but the story (and ephemeral "divine forces") gives to the old judge at least two moments for redemption — the first chance, of course, is Quasimodo, and how Frollo could learn compassion and forgiveness, but no, he psychologically abuses Quasimodo and feeds own ego, using the blatant gaslighting, and the second chance is, of course, Esmeralda, and how Frollo, falling in love with her, could change for her and also change his own worldview, realizing and accepting own imperfection (although, I find it nearly impossible, because in Esmeralda's eyes he was and always will be a monster, a murderer and a tormentor — from another side, at least, in the animated film he has no sadomasochistic tendencies he had in the book; and I find his conflict in the animated film more interesting, deep and complex, because in the book it is basically just "I am actually a priest, my job forbids to me to be interested in women"). But we know, what happened instead — Frollo corrupts the possiblity of love and turns into the pure possessiveness and wrath, viewing it as a witchcraft that causes lust (because Frollo is absolutely sure that all Romani are demons, and there can't be love from them and/or to them, only dirty carnal pleasure). He ignored and failed everything, blamed everyone and everything in own mistakes and crimes, he lied to himself and hence he was the reason of own demise. Frollo's main animator was Kathy Zielinski, and she perfectly nailed his nature and also added few subtle details in his animation and expressions. For example, you can notice some kind of hesitation and regret during "God have mercy on her..." line after he burned Esmeralda's scarf, considering her escape from the church as the rejection of his attention... ah, not kidding, that's terrifying — imagine, you're young girl with own life, and at the same time some unknown to you man (or the person, who tries to erase your people) draws his future with you, creates the idolized image of you and gets furious that you "rejected" him despite the fact that you even never interacted with him and promised nothing to him (and you have no idea about this creep and what's in his mind). Another interesting detail that I noticed in Frollo's animation, and I'd like to ask Kathy about this — it seems that Frollo is left-handed inborn, but later he trained to be right-handed. Because he uses his left hand very often and confidently and exactly during the moments, when you will use exactly your working and active hand.

So, about Hellfire. For real, for me it was mind-blowing. The beauty of this song is in psychology and the fact that we can see what happens in Frollo's twisted and sick mind, what he feels and thinks and why — the two opposite feelings toward the one person, contradictional feelings because of Frollo's beliefs and view on Esmeralda's origin, her belonging to those he killed his whole life. The core of his song is not a lust (I'd say that it is not the case despite the fetishism with Esmeralda's hair and her scarf that he hid and wore on his chest), it's exactly the possessiveness, mixed with blatant fanaticism, egocentrism and victimblaming. Basically "Just fear me, love me, do as I say, and I'll be your slave!" thing. And now I'll try to explain, why I think so. In the animated film, at least, I can understand, why Frollo was interested in Esmeralda — she is not just a young pretty girl, she is smart, she is kind, she is brave, her spirit is free, strong and untamed, she can stand for herself, and she dared to oppose him. So no wonder, why he could be interested in her — there's something more than "just a beautiful body" (and it doesn't contradict to the movie's message and why Esmeralda ended up with Phoebus — he saw Esmeralda as an equal and living person, psychologically he was the only mature man in contrast to Frollo and Quasimodo, and at the same time Quasimodo is more mature than Frollo, because the inexperienced boy, who lived in isolation, really values Esmeralda and her choice and happiness). Because, I'm sorry, although in the book Esmeralda (or Agness, that's her true name in the book) is 15 years old, but as a character or a person she has nothing except of beautiful body, and she has no brains in the book (especially the scene with her mother near the end confirms that). And this thought came to my mind after I noticed the one certain detail in Hellfire sequence. For sure, my favourite moment of this song is "Or else let her be mine and mine alone!". It is the only scene, where Frollo dreams without obsession. It is the only tender scene with him, and it is the only scene, where he is shown vulnerable and lonely, and that makes this scene very personal and impactful. What's interesting, the early version was different, hence it gave different perception. In the early version it is the blatant lust, the carnal desire, mad obsession, because Frollo moves to Esmeralda's smoke spirit as a predator and tries to grab her exactly as a predator tries to catch and grab its prey, as well as Esmeralda here is depersonalized and... dead, she just flies and then disappears, she is just an image, not something alive, just a body instead of living person.

In contrast to this, in the final version the scene hits differently — Frollo walks to her with open arms, as well as Esmeralda's spirit, now pure and ethereal, flies to him with open arms and tenderly touchs his face, so he tries to hug her, but she disapperas, so he looks at it with sadness. The final version is more subtle and ambiguous and leaves the clear hint that Frollo really wanted to be loved by her the way he is (exactly in terms of feelings and platonic side). It shows the sadistic, racist, narcissistic, ruthless, fanatical, hypocritical and deluded sociopath from different side — as a lonely and lost person, who doesn't understand his own feelings and hence is afraid of them and despises them, and who through his narrow, ossified, sick and twisted worldview corrupts initially a pure and sincere feeling toward the brave and kind young girl and turns into a sinful and disgusting act of obsession and possessiveness, erasing any chance for alternative, depriving himself of any alternative. His line "Why I see her dancing there? Why her smoldring eyes still scorch my soul?" kinda hint that he never experienced these feelings (in the festival scene, where Esmeralda kisses Frollo for cheering up, you can notice how embarrassed, timid and meek he is at this moment, but as soon as she jokingly moves his hat on his face and runs back on the stage, he again is in anger state), they are not familliar for him, he can't understand, accept and control it, so it only makes his anger on himself and especially on Esmeralda (again victimblaming) stronger and more destructive.

And it also plays on a viewer's empathy, because even with this gorgeous scene the song and the movie give the right message — no matter what, after all what he has done he's the dangerous and irredeemable stalker and murderer. Judge Frollo is that kind of wonderful human monsters that you will enjoy to analyze, but never want to meet in real life. P.S. Speaking about backstory — maybe at Frollo's youth some gipsy woman predicted that in his next life Frollo will have lots of hot girls through his life, but at the old age he will die due to the stroke during "love play" with another young woman in one old town in the forest. And this town was Twin Peaks. P.S.s. (UPD) In early drafts there was some backstory of Frollo's hatred toward Romani people — it was some kind of self-fulfilling prophecy. When Frollo was young and became a judge and celebrated that with his friends, some old gipsy woman predicted that his ambitions will destroy him, so Frollo gets furious, because he worked hard for getting this job etc, and he considered the prophecy as a witchcraft and started to chase this old lady, so after this his hatred toward Romani has started. Basically Kung Fu Panda 2 prologue or whatever. I would more quickly assume the self-hatred or self-loath issues, caused by Frollo's own origin and the perception of Romani people as demons that must be sent back to Hell for centuries, i.e. he himself could be part gipsy (most likely 1/2 from his mother, hence lying to Quasimodo about his mother, Claude kinda talked about own mother that was "a heartless gipsy who is not capable of real love and abandoned him", so the same image he projects on Esmeralda, expecting from her the same betrayal and at the same time wanting to be loved by her). On another hand, we already had the antagonist with self-hatred issues — Judge Doom from Who Framed Roger Rabbit 1988 movie.

[mistresskayla-blog1]

Heart-Scorched in the Desert

PART 2

Characters: Guy of Gisborne x OC Navaneeth

(Lyn's Writing Event May 2024)

PART 2

Guy of Gisborne was created by Dominic Minghella & Foz Allan and adapted for Television.

Warnings: smut, angst, grief, heartbreak, rescue, confusion, p in v, cunnilingus, accidental breeding,

Word count: 2.7k

Location: Holy Lands circa 1190s

Part 1 is HERE. *Part 1 has spoilers if you havent watched series 1*

--- part 2

Navaneeth tried to rest as well, the chores of the day would start sharply, and the Seljuk are unforgiving to her station. She was still thinking about the Englishman, the one with sharp features, and an even sharper heart. Could she change her own life and leave with him, could she soften that dark knight? She giggled as she thought of his smirking face. She had been around men who made advances on her, as a peasant it was allowed, and that always infuriated her. Maybe in his culture they had more protections. She did not know, but she was willing to find out. Navaneeth only had herself to look after, her parents were dead, and her brothers were fighting against the crusaders. There was nothing to do but chores for the Sultan and maybe sleep a whole night without the Mummy looming.

She may not know if she could soften Guy, but Allah, did she want to try to convince him to let her. She gathered a few of her things and rolled it up into another scarf. Then scurried across the courtyard to Guy’s hut.

---

Guy stirred hearing footsteps near his door. He rolled over and looked up. Navaneeth was at his doorway. Guy smiled warmly. Navaneeth had a parcel in her hands. She smiled, “I brought some things. And a little food, for, you” She offered him some bread. Guy stood up and sauntered over to her, “Thank you” he said, chewing and swallowing, “You came back,” he said. She did not respond, it just hung in the air like the heat.

“I did,” Navaneeth swallowed, gulping down courage, “I wanted to ask you something”. Guy stayed planted in front of her. “Mm hmm..” still eating the sweet dates from her palm.

“That is,” Guy looked at her, hopeful, but reserved.

“Could you take me with you? Back to your home?” Navaneeth asked him. Guys eyebrows furrowed as he chewed. He turned away from her and sighed.

“Honestly? I do not even know what I have to go home to,” he fiddled with his satchel, and sighed heavily again.

“Why do you want to leave?” he asked her curiously, turning back and leaning into the clay wall.  Navaneeth brushed the hair from her face, lowering her hood, “I want more control than I have here, I thought,”

Guy smirked, “You think women have it better where I come from? Because they can fight?”

Navaneeth shuddered in her robes, and looked at him, trying to stand tall, “I just want something different, can you take me, or no? that is what I came to ask you,”

It was then that Guy noticed the way she was clutching the bag in her hand. “You’re going away anyways, aren’t you?” he approached her, concern filling his face, “But where will you go, surely you will be killed for leaving?”

Navaneeth looked down at her hands and back up to his bursting blue eyes, “I care not, at least I can say that I died trying to escape, I don’t wish to be a slave for the Sultan anymore”, Navaneeth shuddered again, and rubbed at her neck. Guy could see a welt on it, as she moved her hand. Her hair, fell back to drape across it.

Guy got even closer to her, “Is that his handy work then?” his bare hand brushed her shoulder as he examined her. Guy shook his head, moving to touch her more softly, “It’s a shame that he would hurt someone as beautiful as you.”

Navaneeth blushed under his touch, her warm olive skin warmed pinkish. She felt exposed and somehow seen by him in that very moment. Guys eyes darted all over her, and she shivered again, “You are very kind. I know that my looks cause me harm here, perhaps they wont elsewhere.”

Guy chuckled softly under his breath, “I do not think you will find much solace in that back in my home. Beautiful women are always sought after. Why should you be any different?”

He walked past her, his demeanor shifting to ice, trying to steal himself from his feelings of desire. Marian had really messed him up. Turned his heart upside down and then spat it out. He spun on Navaneeth in great alarm, and grabbed her up in his arms, shaking her angrily.

“Why?! Do you think me worthy to help you? Do I have sucker written on my face? Is that it?” He yelled, then he dropped her, and went to the wall, pounding it with his fists. Navaneeth fell to her knees, a little frightened but also intrigued. She had seen him kill that woman the other day, in the courtyard, saw his pain as he did it. Saw her lover upset and cry over her body. She wondered what that all meant, was that woman playing both men? What had happened to this man, to make him so torn apart?

Guy pounded the wall with his fists and pushed his skull into the clay, trying to make his mind and his heart stop this war in his chest. He spun back to Navaneeth and came to his knees before her, his hands surrounding her hands.

“Navaneeth, I am sorry. I – I just,” Guy’s words fell off his lips, his mind was buzzing, “I’m no good for you. I don’t deserve anything like this. I am a bad man.” Navaneeth, close to him, put her finger to his lips, and those blue eyes of his looked up in sullen tone. Navaneeth, moved to kiss Guy, she bent down to him. Guy did not flinch. There lips met soft and gentle, and Guy felt his heart leap into his throat, then crash back down into his belly. Navaneeth’s lips were soft, warm and inviting. Her fingers touched his chin, leading him into a deeper kiss. Guy relented and moved into the kiss deeper as well. He just wanted the feeling of it. To be desired.

Guy pulled her into his lap, and cradled her face, as the sounds of their moans and kissing filled the hut. Navaneeth moaned against his lips. His hold on her, moved to her waist now, as he gripped her in tense longing. Guy kissed Navaneeth’s neck, and wrapped his hands over the back of her shoulders, as she leaned back into his hold, her throat exposed to him. Tears sprung from Guy’s eyes in abandon, as he tasted her skin, and Navaneeth froze to hear a grown man cry beneath her. His voice was broken by sobs as it streamed from his lips, “I’m sorry, I’m so so  sorry,” Guy shakily got out, his deep voice broken by utter grief.

Navaneeth, righted herself, against his lips and closed her arms around his head and neck, holding him to her breast. Guy sobbed into her scarves and shift, and she held him even closer. Clearly this man was grieving. She had only seen men cry in private when they suffered deep loss, as from a spouse. Her father wept when her mother died.

“Marian,” Guy sputtered out between sobs, “I’m so sorry,”

Navaneeth, cooed at Guy, “There there, my knight,” she breathed against the top of his head, blanketing his dark hair with soft kisses. She recognized the name, it had been screamed across the courtyard days before and it rung crisp now, at his lips. Marian must have been the woman he killed. Someone he had deep feelings for, so why did he kill her then?

Navaneeth decided to keep the past in the past. And continued to hold him against her. His breathing subsided after some minutes, he showed no sign of embarrassment, or apology. Guy looked up at her then, and kissed her on the lips deeper still. Resting his head against hers, “Help me, forget all that I have done,” Guy asked in earnest.

Navaneeth, looked into his eyes, steely and so close to hers in that moment, “As you wish,”

And Navaneeth, loosened her shift, letting her breasts gently fall out, exposed. Guy groaned and moved his mouth over her nipple, his hand caressing her breast hungrily, but gently. Navaneeth gasped as his mouth pursed her nipple between lips and teeth. Her fingers flowed into his hair, pushing him deeper against her breast. He was reveling in her warmth and softness, and murmured against her skin, “so soft, god, so sweet”.

Navaneeth smirked, and pushed him down to the dirt floor, smothering him a second, before he swept her up, and brought her up to the bed. Lying her on her back. His hands moving slowly up her thigh beneath her skirts. His eyes locked on hers as his fingers made it towards her inner thighs, brushing lightly against her mound. Navaneeth was nervous, but only because she had never been with someone foreign before. Would his temper flare up during? Or would he be cruel, like the Sultan?

Guy sensed her apprehension, and kissed the top of her foot, crawling up her body slowly, pulling his shirt over his head, revealing his glistening pale skin, and musculature. Navaneeth’s eyes dilated in a flash. Guy hovered, in his britches above her. His arms on either side of her waist on the bed. Guy lowered his head and kissed her exposed belly, a jewel pierced into her skin at the navel. Guy tugged at it with his nimble lips, and Navaneeth huffed out a breath again.

Guy chuckled lightly, before kissing lower down her belly, his hand moving to part her skirts to reveal her to him. His tongue started to lick at her feminine curls, he arousal came in a wave of scent that waft against his face and he groaned more to smell her, before he tasted her.

“Can I taste you?” he asked, his cock pressing against his britches in alertness.

Navaneeth looked down at him, hesitant, “As you wish”, her thoughts were racing, she hadn’t ever been asked that before, her answer embarrassed her, but clearly he wasn’t daunted.

Guy, sighed, and cradled her thighs with his hands and tucked himself between her legs, her skirts half draping over his head. He licked and sucked at her folds and found her nub almost immediately. Navaneeth yelped, and her hand shot to his hair. Guy smiled against her folds, his nose rubbed at her clit as his tongue lapped at her entrance. Navaneeth cried out in pleasure, but that sound had never come from her mouth before, so she was confused. Her grip on his hair tightened, and he stopped.

Guy looked up, the skirt falling to the side of his shoulder, revealing a man enjoying his work, his blue eyes were bright and warm, “Are you alright?” that deep voice resonating now in breaths against her cunt and Navaneeth could feel a warmth rising from her core now.

She managed a few words between rasps as he swirled his finger at her entrance waiting for an answer, “I.. I just, Allah.. that’s good”.

Guy smiled and went back to using his tongue. A long finger pushing into her, smoothly in her wetness, it became two rather quickly and curled up towards the sky inside her. Navaneeth, pulled at his hair and skin with her fingers, feeling the burn inside her building into something else even stronger.

Guy moved then, removing his fingers and kissing his way up to her mouth, positioning himself between her legs, a rattle of his belt could be heard in the quiet hut, even over their mutual panting. Navaneeth, gripped his head in the kiss, tasting herself and immediately becoming even more aroused. Guy’s cock… hovered near her. She could feel the heat from his trousers, his flesh near her own.

He looked at her, before he went in, “I assume you done this before, yes?” His eyes were asking in a sense of duty and respect, Navaneeth immediately understood, and felt a warmth in her heart in that moment too. Navaneeth nodded and murmured a ‘yes’. He seemed to sigh in repose, and then dragged his cock along her slit, getting it wetter.

“I, I’m sorry if I am quick,” he smirked, “and big, Its been awhile since I --- (sighed) have been with a woman,” Guy said, apologetically. Navaneeth giggled a little, and Guy cupped his hand against her mound of curls, his palm resting near her clit. He pushed into her, her cunt gripping and relenting without hesitation. Guy huffed in pleasure and sensation and pulled out a little, before pushing in deeper. Navaneeth watched his reaction in allure and curiosity. He was so different than other men that had used her for sex. Navaneeth seethed when he pushed all the way in, pressing against her core and making her flutter in response. The ache that built inside her was a welcome gift, Guy moved his hand and palmed against her clit in little thrusts.

Guy started to pump into her with some more energy, and Navaneeth clung to his touch in every moment. Crying out as his cock stretched and thrummed against her core, his pumps grew faster and his huffs deeper. His hand moved off her clit and gripped her waist sinking deeper. Navaneeth moaned and cried out again, his pace quicker and fiercer. Following his natural intent to his own end. Navaneeth moved her hand to touch herself and Guy locked eyes with her in recognition again.

His voice was harsh as he moaned out, “Do you want to cum first?” Guy asked.

Navaneeth lost her focus a moment, “what?”  She wasn’t sure how to respond, no one had asked her about her own pleasure before, “Is that what you want?”

Guy shook his head as he continued to pump into her, he slowed then, bending down to kiss her on the lips.

“I want to do better than I have, I want this to be as good for you as it is for me”. Guy pledged.

Navaneeth gulped in response, “I don’t really know what to do”. Guy smirked then, and readjusted his stance, raising her legs up against his chest. She seated on his cock at a delicious angle and Navaneeth felt her cunt clamp down onto him. Guy gulped in response, “That’s what I want”, he said, hungrily under his breath, a low growl resting in his chest.

“As you wish”, she gasped as he started to pump into her again, deep long strokes, drawing out her orgasm in slow torturous sweetness. Sweat was visible at his brow, and glistened across his chest, all of his self-control was mounting as his cock throbbed inside this woman.

Guy pushed deeper and stroked into her core with some pressure, Navaneeth found her clit and helped them both along. Her core fluttered and her walls squeezed, and Navaneeth cried out, his name on her lips. Guy took the cue and pumped faster and faster… meeting her in oblivion as he bruised her core in delight and spurted his seed against her walls with utter abandon.

Guy felt reality hit him in the face, and he pulled out in haste, cursing under his breath. Navaneeth was still panting, her whole body alive in shudders and sensation. Tingles at every level of her skin and cells.

Guy grabbed at some cloth on the bedside, and wiped at her folds, he pushed his hand on her mound, and Navaneeth looked at him, “just push a little, yeah”, He said looking at her. Navaneeth nodded and complied, his seed spilled out of her, and into the cloth. He wiped her folds gently and tossed it on the floor. He came up to hold her against him. Their partially dressed and partially naked bodies, sweaty and warm.

Guy kissed Navaneeth forehead, and she tipped to look up towards him.

“You are an exceptionally curious man, Guy of Gisborne”, Navaneeth said.

Guy smirked, “Thank you for allowing me to do that,”

Navaneeth smiled, “If that is how you do it, I think I may have to follow you back home, regardless”.  A warm chuckle rumbled in his chest, as she settled her face against it, tucking herself under his chin. They both rested for a little while, knowing the best time to leave would be nightfall.

------

(more to come... stay tuned for part 3)

Taglist:

@sweetestgbye @evenstaredits @riepu10 @amylupotter @middleearthpixie @legolasbadass @scariusaquarius @lathalea @richardarmitageshands

Thanks to everyone for reading!!

[jbuffyangel]

So Many Girlfriends: Arrow 1x17 Review (The Huntress Returns)

We were a little light on Oliver and Felicity content last episode, but “The Huntress Returns” makes up for it. A good deal of the episode is focused on how Oliver feels about Helena and McKenna, but ultimately shines a bright spotlight on how he feels about Felicity.

Let’s dig in...

Olicity, Helena and McKenna

Will Oliver Queen’s real girlfriend please stand up?

Just kidding. I think too much is made of how many women Oliver dated in Season 1. Technically it was only two… well three but we’ll talk about the third later in the season. This is not an exorbitant about of dating for a single man. That said, we’re juggling three out of the four in “The Huntress Returns” so things feel a bit crowded.

This episode primarily focuses on how Oliver feels about Helena. She’s back after discovering her father cut a deal and will be placed in witness protection for offering evidence against the east coast families. Helena will not allow her father to have any kind of life because for her there is no life after Danny.

Helena can’t go up against the Starling City Police Department alone and wants Oliver to help kill her father. We get sucked into another “revenge versus justice” argument between the two of them and honestly I am trying hang with my boy here. Oliver believes what he is doing is justice and not revenge, but he is splitting the thinnest of moral hairs.

I’ve done the mental gymnastics to follow his point in previous reviews, and I won’t repeat myself too much, but every time they argue about this I find myself agreeing with Helena. Oliver is dangerously close to the hypocrite line, but ok sir. You only kill when necessary (although I don’t remember every person crossed off the list being killed in self defense) and only when it serves justice (but Oliver has anointed himself judge, jury and executioner so it’s HIS kind of justice – that doesn’t actually make it justice.)

Moving on. Helen extorts Oliver into participating by threatening Tommy.

First, Tommy finds out Oliver is a superhero and then he gets beat up by a girl. This has been an emasculating couple weeks.

It’s Diggle that asks the all important and completely obvious question.

Diggle: Oliver if you didn’t still have feelings for this girl you would have thought of a different solution than letting her extort you into killing someone.

Oliver: What do you want me to do? You want me to kill her?

Diggle: I think you would have a long time ago if she looked more like me than the T-Mobile girl.

Diggle is never wrong. Exhibit A: the T-Mobile Girl

Normally John advises Oliver to stay his hand, but he’s worried Helena will drop a dime on both of them. A concern Oliver shares, which is why he hasn’t handed her over to the police.

Oliver does finally admit to his FEELINGS. He’s still holding on to whatever idea of Helena he has in his head. He believes this idealized version is the true version. This is a mistake Oliver makes a lot with women – Moira, Thea, and L*urel. Each of them have faults, some more glaring than others, but he stubbornly ignores them and believes in the Snow White version instead. It’s patronizing and keeps Oliver from seeing the women he loves as human beings – with imperfections just like him.

Oliver keeps telling Helena, “This isn’t you,” when it very clearly is her. Oliver’s hero complex means he believes everyone can be saved, but when a person refuses to change and chooses the darker road again and again, then you must believe them. Saving someone is an illusion. No one can be saved unless they want to be saved. We must all make that choice for ourselves. We must choose our salvation.

Helena’s return shines a glaring spotlight on how little we know about McKenna after several episodes. Oliver and McKenna haven’t progressed much past a few dates and some lukewarm kisses.

Arrow ramps up the heat with a love scene, but it feels very perfunctory - like they must have sex to count as a relationship. Something to check off the list before McKenna is shipped off to The Land of Forgotten Characters.

This is exactly what happens when McKenna gets caught between Oliver and Helena's show down. Helena shoots McKenna, which fractures her femur. She is moving to Ocean City to live with her sister and rehab for a year.

Oliver makes a valiant offer to visit and do the long distance thing. He cares for McKenna, but I couldn’t help but feel this offer came from a hefty dose of guilty. Of course, Oliver is going to blame McKenna’s injury on himself.  He even says he’s responsible for her – not that he loves her. McKenna can see that Oliver’s feelings are not long distance level and she dumps him.

And every heartbreak was a yellow brick road Pointing me straight, just taking me home I was never lost I was just passing through I was on my way to you

"On My Way" by Jennifer Lopez

Arrow does not let these failed relationships go to waste. They are pointing us to Oliver’s real destination point. “Return of The Huntress” has a couple of dialogue gems that Olicity vidders have used again and again. More often than not, the writers are not talking about the relationship Oliver is currently in. They are talking about the relationship he is headed towards.

McKenna: The first thing you do is you find yourself someone you never have to apologize to.

It’s interesting that McKenna says this to Oliver right before they make love, but by the end of the episode he is wracked with guilt over her. He actually has to steel himself before going into McKenna’s hospital room because he cannot show what he’s truly feeling. The offer to come to Coast City is one big apology.

This is Arrow’s version of “Love means never having to say you’re sorry” which personally I think is a load of crap.

If you love someone and you hurt them then acknowledging their pain and apologizing for it is a very important part of forgiveness. You do not get a successful relationship without forgiveness.

I think the sentiment Arrow is trying to communicate is that Oliver needs to find someone who understands who he is and all the various pressures in his life. Someone he doesn’t have to lie to (McKenna/L*urel), but won’t ask him to murder people (Helena). The only woman in Oliver’s life that fits in these categories is Felicity.

As I said before, this show has the subtly of a jackhammer. Felicity calls as Oliver and McKenna fall into bed together. The camera panning to Felicity’s face on Oliver’s phone while he is having sex with another woman is not accidental. They are very clearly saying which woman Oliver SHOULD be having sex with.

Oliver leaves McKenna’s bed the minute he finds out Helena has attacked Felicity. This is in my Top Ten if not Top 5 of Oliver rescuing Felicity scenes.

Source: https://gifyu.com/paigeota

Helena forced Felicity to hack the FBI database for her father’s safe house location.

Oliver arrives in a panic and calls out for Felicity. He finds her bound and on the floor. It is not often we see the Hood’s feathers ruffled, but they certainly are in this scene.

Oliver’s voice drops to that soft tone with an “I’m here” and “Hey” as he gently touches Felicity’s face to reassure himself she is okay.

There are limited circumstances where Oliver allows himself to touch Felicity. He sticks to shoulders for a looooong time, but allows himself something more intimate when Felicity is in danger.

Source: https://gifyu.com/paigeota

The real tell here is Oliver’s RAGE. He goes absolutely feral when he hears someone entering the office and almost throws a knife at Diggle.

Source: https://gifyu.com/paigeota

Helena has killed innocent people to get to her father. She knows Oliver’s secret which makes her a dangerous threat to Team Arrow. She subtly threatened Oliver’s family by showing up at the mansion and directly threatened Tommy by almost ripping his arm from the socket. NONE of these actions convince Oliver to kill Helena – until she threatens Felicity. Oliver’s carefully crafted façade which hides the anger simmering underneath is tossed aside immediately. He wants to rip Helena in half with his bare hands.

Source: https://gifyu.com/paigeota

It’s starting to add up this episode! Helena has been searching for the right pressure point and boy did she find it. Felicity is not just comedic relief. She is not just Oliver’s Girl Friday.  The writers are clearly writing their interactions with romantic undertones and this episode shines a very bright light on where Felicity ranks in Oliver’s life, how much he cares for her, and what he’s willing to do to protect her. Ok sure, Oliver has a lot of “girlfriends,” but there’s only one who truly matters.

Prepare yourselves. I don’t disagree with this statement.

Source: https://gifyu.com/paigeota

Happy is not Oliver’s goal right now and I don’t believe he’s anywhere near the vicinity of happiness. If Oliver somehow achieved whatever his current definition of happiness is (which is also in flux) he wouldn’t know what to do with it. Not unlike a dog chasing a car.

Oliver is trapped in a self fulling prophecy attempting a normal life while living his vigilante life. He laments that marrying the two is impossible because it continually blows up in his face when he tries to merge his love life with his crime fighting.

He couldn’t be honest with McKenna because she’d arrest him. Oliver was honest with Helena, but she desperately needs to be arrested (and requires a good dose of therapy). Whenever the puzzle pieces don’t fit, Oliver throws his hands up in exasperation and says, “SEE? I CAN NEVER BE HAPPY!”

There is a problem with his math. As Diggle said, it’s about finding the right person. McKenna, Helena, *cough*L*urel*cough* are not the right person, so of course it doesn’t work out. Oliver never really addresses the massive issues with each of these women on an individual level. He sort of just chucks them all into the same love is impossible category.

We know the answer. Hell, I think even Diggle knows the answer at this point. It’s a 5 foot 5 inch blonde ponytail swishing Oliver right in the face. Felicity knows the truth. Not only does she NOT want him arrested, she has joined his criminal enterprise. She is wildly intelligent, beautiful, empathetic, witty and just the right amount of sass and toughness to keep a pain in the ass like Oliver Queen in line. This is the girl you bring home to meet your mother, Oliver.

Just hold her hand my dude!!

Source: https://gifyu.com/paigeota

But Oliver refuses to allow himself to look at Felicity in that capacity for now, which brings us to the second issue with his math. Oliver doesn’t feel he can be happy. He doesn’t believe he’s worthy of love. He might be chasing after it, feigning some attempt at a normal life, but these relationships blowing up in his face is not completely unwelcomed.

There’s a sense of relief sinking back into the darkness of the bunker. He tried, it failed, and now Oliver can wash his hands of the whole “happiness” thing, which is fine because he doesn’t deserve it anyway.

So, no I don’t believe Oliver’s priority should be happiness right now. He’s nowhere near ready for that. Oliver needs to do an enormous amount of work mentally and emotionally before he is even in the realm of readiness for Felicity Smoak. What he needs desperately right now is a friend who understands him. Of course, Felicity will be the friend Oliver needs because he will never find a life with Felicity without her help.

But bring on all the shoulder touches in the meantime!

L*urel and Tommy

Source: https://gifyu.com/paigeota

Soooo Tommy is having some issues with Oliver’s identity.  I always giggle inappropriately when Oliver is so offended by Tommy calling him a murderer. He looks like he wants to say, “Am not! It doesn’t count if they were bad people!”

Tommy is not interested in a morality debate with Oliver because he doesn’t trust him anymore - a consequence from all the lying. We’re already on Team Oliver. We know his reasons for doing this. We watched Robert Queen kill himself. We understand our vigilante’s pain, so it’s natural to get a little defensive of him when Tommy is this unforgiving. 

But Tommy has a right to his anger. Oliver has lied. A LOT. He is a killer. This is a disquieting revelation about the kid you grew up playing t-ball with. Not everyone is as cool with murder as Diggle and Felicity. (Tommy does soften on Oliver a little by the end of the episode.)

It’s not all moral high ground either. Tommy doesn’t say it, but Oliver being the sexy and dangerous vigilante L*urel is obsessed with is not scoring him any best friend points.

Tommy is going through all the feelings this week, which means he’s not the most attentive boyfriend and doesn’t have the emotional bandwidth for the latest Lance drama. L*urel’s mother, the OG Dinah, is in town because she believes Sara is alive. Dun dun duuuunnnn!!

SPOILERS!!!!!!

This storyline just annoys the crap out of me. I hate that they introduce this in Season 1. I don’t know if it’s meant to be a red herring, dangle a hook or just to drive us crazy, but it lessens the emotional impact of Season 2.

The first thing Oliver did when he came back was state definitively that Sara was dead. Dinah's picture of someone who looks like Sara is pretty flimsy evidence to contradict the man who watched her die. It feels like the writers are trying to give L*urel and Detective Lance something to do and bring all the divorce drama with Dinah into the fold. Eh. Keep it.

What annoys me even further is L*urel immediately jumps up Tommy’s ass for being distracted and not fully invested in the dead-sister-is-possibly-but-probably-not-alive drama. Good grief woman. Can the guy have an off week? Calm down.

I’m 50/50 on whether Tommy really wants to tell L*urel  that Oliver is the vigilante. Yes, he wants to tell her because that tea is PIPING HOT and he has to be dying to tell SOMEONE. No, he doesn’t want to tell her because of the previously mentioned sexy leather pants problem. It’s really a toss up at this point.

The problem is Tommy is actually a really decent dude who is terrible at lying and L*urel knows he’s keeping something from her. Thanks a lot Ollie. She throws a hissy about Tommy being “a million miles away” and storms off. The seeds of distrust and disappointment are sewn and we shall wait for the impending jealousy implosion to come.

Stray Thoughts

Oliver and Slade are negotiating a flight off the island. Wake me if it’s not a foregone conclusion this plan fails. The dude was stuck there for five years.

Thea wants to get Roy a job. Nothing says love like gainful employment.

Is date number six significant? What happens on date six? I am old and have not dated for awhile.

Oliver ordering Felicity out of the room was HOT. He doesn’t want her within fifty feet of Helena. I like it when he’s growly and bossy. Source: https://gifyu.com/paigeota

Roy gets stabbed saving Thea. She kisses him because he’s scared of needles. First kiss cute factor is off the charts.

 “Why can’t you just admit that you still have feelings for me too?” Does anyone else feel like Oliver had sex with McKenna to prove he doesn’t have feelings for Helena? It felt oddly timed.

Listen to the Watchover podcast reaction to 1x17!!!

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Disclaimer: Any gifs on the blog are not mine. If you would like a gif removed from my reviews, please message me.

[mermaidsirennikita]

Need your Saltburn review though 👀

I will preface by saying that I personally find Emerald to be a filmmaker/writer that is rather boring at best and kind of... horrifically misled in that she thinks that shocking "darkness" = depth at worst. I think A Promising Young Woman had some fun visuals at points (and so does Saltburn--though I think this has less to do with Emerald having an eye and more for Emerald understanding aesthetic, which makes sense when you realize that her dad is an Eton-educated jeweler to the stars, King of Bling, I wonder if that possibly could ever have anything to do with a UK performer's rise, hmmmmm--) but the way it ended was just... Lol. Yes, Emerald! I know that this is how the story would probs end in real life, the women of the world NEEDED TO KNOW.

(Princess Weekes did a good little video essay about PYW btw, would recommend.)

But yeah, point is--I don't think Saltburn is a misstep for Emerald. I think she's just very mediocre and self-indulgent. You can be self-indulgent and get away with it when you have a vision and something to say (see: Baz). I don't think Emerald has something to say. I think Emerald has concepts, which she pushes to a point she thinks is edgy, but doesn't actually... string into a coherent idea.

First off, Saltburn is nothing new; and it doesn't need to be. I like the pretentious rich people problems aesthetic. I love the bacchanal of the upper crust sensibility. Hell, I loved Donna Tartt's The Secret History. Sierra Simone's Thornchapel series is one of my favorite things she's done. I love Cruel Intentions. I also love The Talented Mr. Ripley, which--

My good man. If you wish to watch what you think Saltburn was going to be, but with better actors (including Jude Law in what is essentially the Jacob Elordi role, which, uh, how we have fallen as a society) and honestly better homoeroticism in a movie made like 20 years ago... just watch The Talented Mr. Ripley.

But yeah. So, I think everything Emerald does is meant to shock but doesn't go quite far enough. It's little moments that happen, and aren't really contextualized in a way that feels like it's there to be anything more than shock value, which makes it less shocking. Like, the period fingerbang--if those characters had a dynamic which led up to that moment, if I felt the actual power play there, it might actually shock me. Or be sexy? For the record, Fair Play has a period sex scene within its first five minutes that is both more surprising and better in every way. The shit with Farleigh? Would be compelling. That was the one bit of chemistry in the movie, the moment when Oliver and Farleigh talked to each other right before the whole singalong disaster. But then it's happening and I'm like "why is Barry Keoghan fucking everyone in this movie except for Jacob Elordi? What is the point?"

And what is the point indeed. Jacob Elordi has the charisma of a medium-sized tree, and I suspect a medium-sized tree would do a better job of ditching the Aussie accent. Emerald's inadequacies could be overcome and made into a thing that is campy, maybe? Not good, but fun? Barry Keoghan does his best with the material. He's fun in the last like ten minutes of the movie wherein he's basically monologuing like a demented real housewife and dancing around naked. He tries so hard to create chemistry with Jacob, while Jacob's vibe is very "no homo". (But the character is supposed to be no homo, you say--is he, first off, because I honestly don't know what Emerald is saying, and second... Like.... The character can be not attracted to Barry's character will still giving us an essence of intrigue that would inform why Barry is spellbound.)

But the biggest issue is that the movie hinges on Jacob Elordi being worthy of obsession, and he is just a flop in this role. He doesn't sell himself as this posh, beautiful, Brideshead Revisited-But-A-Bro guy. He can't really act (there's a scene where the movie cuts to him giving a smile that I think is supposed to be charming and I went "yikes" out loud). He is up against people who are actually actors, which makes it a bit worse. Everything feels very forced and constructed, for want of a better term. If you do not get WHY this guy, then the movie flops. And try as I might, I cannot get WHY this guy.

(Might I add--the bathtub scene would've been more intriguing had we seen Jacob interact with the voyeurism, some sense that he knew, whether or not he enjoyed it. The queerness in this movie is so... It's just this queer guy being obsessed and rebuffed and murderous, and I don't know, there didn't seem to be enough exploring the ramifications of that kind of story.)

The Talented Mr. Ripley also hinges on the focal point of obsession being worthy of obsession. And again. It's Jude Law. And it's Jude Law giving a really good performance, too.

The movie also does some shit I really don't think it's equipped to do. Like, the premise is essentially the working class interloper (but like, he's not as working class as he saaaays so oooooohhhhh) is preying on this family of rich folks who offered him a place to land. And it's not inherently bad, imo, to tell that story. However, you need the rich people to have some role beyond being prey; you need to understand the predator's contempt beyond jealousy. But the rich people are cardboard. They aren't sharp. They may have a few throwaway lines that illustrate their own sins (including some very clumsily handled racism) but ultimately the movie gives Oliver more power than it does the elite upon whom he preys. So ultimately, you come away from it feeling like you're watching the anxieties of the upper class, re: the encroaching middle and working class... But there's no examination, because the rich people are just victims lol. I think it's genuine anxiety.

Yeah though, I thought it was really hokey basically.