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[ananke-xiii]

I started writing about resurrection because, to me, the “Mary Winchester is complete” excuse in S14 is bullshit and the same goes for Billie and her “life’s unfair but what can you do?” speech to Rowena in S13. I’ve talked a little bit about Rowena and soonish I’ll post something about Mary because “About Mary, never enough”. But, before that, I need to say something about Chuck and Amara… and Oskar.

Mary’s death is, of course, once again a catalyst for plot advancement but, in this reading of mine about resurrection, it’s also the straw that breaks the camel’s back for Chuck. Because, after all, souls are “complicated even for him” but, more importantly: “even if I could, would you really want -- I mean, after what he did?”. It’s the switch between the “I could”, the “would you want it?” and the final “what he did” that signals the lie for me. In other words, Chuck just doesn’t want Mary back. So, of course, I must ask: why? Before answering, one little thing must be taken into account.

Now that the show’s over we know that Chuck is a hands-off God only when it comes to humanity minus Sam and Dean. After all, their story is the show’s story so this totally makes sense within this framework. But if I follow this line of reasoning, I find two very specific plot-points that wouldn’t really make sense for S14-S15-Chuck… or would they? I’m talking about Amara and Jack, perhaps the only two entities that have the possibility to end his own personal story. To me, the things are two: either Chuck willed their appearance in the story or they were collateral damage that he thought he could handle (and, in part, he wasn’t 100% wrong).

The first scenario fits my interpretation of Chuck as a gambling addict who has very, very deep and dark desires of complete annihilation. It’s a take that renders Chuck a more interesting character but it diminishes other characters’ relevance in the story. But it’s still possible and one day I’ll perhaps write about this in more details.

If Amara and Jack are collateral damage, however, it means that it’s not just Sam, Dean and Cas who defy predestination but also… Rowena and Lucifer. Their actions (the destruction/creation of a “child”)(I know neither Oskar nor Jack really are “children” but I’m speaking more in archetypical terms rather than actual, factual ones, perhaps “Son” is a more appropriate word) aren’t God’s will, therefore they have de facto a very prominent role in Chuck’s narrative.

I’ll be honest with you, I have something written about Lucifer, Kelly and Jack that I don’t know if I’ll ever post because it’s a bit intense and I hate everything that Buckleming, or whatever they’re called, have done with that particular storyline. It’s both very uncomfortable and comical which makes things even worse. Also, I’ve been meaning to write about Oskar and Rowena for a while now so I think it’s fair to focus on them.

I’ve said that I’d have preferred if it were “Death’s death” that opened Amara’s cage and not the spell from the Book of the Damned but that’s just wishful thinking. The reality is that the cage was opened because Rowena finished the spell for the “cure” of the Mark of Cain, i.e. she metaphorically killed/sacrificed her soul in exchange for her freedom (oh, Rowena! The fact that something very different, yet very similar will happen again in S15 will forever sadden me). The last ingredient of the spell recites as follows: The caster's heart: The life of the thing the spell caster loves most. “Life” here means “blood” while the “caster’s heart” is, symbolically, Rowena’s soul because she basically must kill her “heart” for the spell to work. Which means that, without her heart, she’ll be “lifeless”, "soulless". It's "an eye for an eye" type of "exchange" (hello Equalizer/Hammurabi). It’s a really, really high price to pay for her physical freedom and for her metaphorical and unaware, brief freedom from Chuck’s narrative.

Who’s Oskar? He’s the child of the Polish family that gave shelter to Rowena, possibly the only people in her whole, sad story that ever showed true compassion for her. Oskar was sick at the time so Rowena cured him thanks to a spell (remind you of something?) and also gave him immortality (this is a bit weak and it’s clearly there because Rowena is 300 years old or something so they had to justify Oskar’s existence in the world, lol, me not like)(Wishful thinking, again: Oskar’s story could’ve been so much more interesting if he had, I don’t know, more than two scenes in the whole season).

My friend Wikipedia tells me that “Oscar” means “deer-loving one” or “friend of deer” and it’s the name of a character in Irish mythology of which, I’m afraid, I’m very ignorant so I cannot tell you much (here the Wikipedia page if you care). What’s more, it’s also the name of the dead son in “The Poems of Ossian” by Scottish poet James Macpherson. I only remember vaguely from my high school years that the Ossian cycle was much discussed because many believed it was a hoax? I don’t really remember much but it’s “nice” to notice that the writers took the trouble to associate Rowena, who’s Scottish, with a Scottish poem. Not that we needed it but it’s a huge foreshadowing because Oscar is, in the poem, a “dead son”, but it also shows that they at least put some care when they were crafting her story and this consoles me a little bit.

But Oskar decides to re-name himself as Seth and this is another huge red flag because Seth is Adam and Eve’s third son after Cain and Abel. The fact that Oskar/Dead Son/Seth/Third Brother is sacrificed by Rowena basically means that Sam/Abel won’t be killed by Dean/Cain (in case we needed further proof but okay, I like it). He is, from a narrative function pov, S10’s very own Adam Milligan, Macleod edition.

Oskar's life and Rowena’s soul are sacrificed because they are the price to pay to remove the Mark on Dean’s forearm. But since the Mark is not passed down to anybody, the cage is opened and Amara is “born” into the world as a… baby. A baby who eats souls to grow up. She’s a soul eater. Unlike Chuck and his lies, souls are not that complicated for Amara. By the end of S11 and after having consumed a good number of human souls, Amara gifts Dean with Mary. She resurrects Mary as a gift. Body and soul, the full package. Which is interesting because Billie clearly says from the beginning of S11 that, from now on, what's dead stays dead. Cough, cough, cough. So someone is not following the rules and this time it's not Sam, Dean, Cas nor even Chuck but it's Amara.

So Amara’s relationship with souls is quite… uncomplicated? She needs them, she gets them. She thinks Dean needs his mother, she gives her to him. Although I find it very telling that Amara is depicted solely as an agent of destruction while it’s her “missing” half, Chuck, her brother, who’s got the task of creation. She can, however, re-create her brother’s creation. I have to highlight this because in S11 another notable cage gets opened and Lucifer also runs free in the world. Again. By S12 he’ll also share his father’s fantasy of solely male creation ( while Kelly is unfortunately characterized from day 1 as the real, ultimate, disposable vessel).

I think Rowena and Lucifer managed to escape Chuck’s controlling narrative simply because… Chuck didn’t pay any attention to them. Didn’t care about them. Sam understands that Chuck is a huge scam, a hoax if you will, and he calls him “stupid and crazy”. Chuck's not interested in Sam's story and that'll cost him a bullet in the shoulder. His obsession with the “Dean kills Sam” plot totally distracted him from the underlying, compelling story linking Rowena, Oskar, Amara, Lucifer, Sam, Mary, Kelly and Jack. Which is the story of the expendables, the "sacrifices", the vessels, the enslaved and the caged. Chuck's narrative focuses, on the other hand, on the ones who, supposedly, should perpetrate violence.

Which is a bit of a pity because, the other side of it, it's the story of the birth and rebirth of the Rejected "Evil" which, in a wonderful paradox, is also the story of the Soul. It's not a morally flat story, mind you, because the Soul is definitely not the Good That Wins, she's starving, constantly mistreated, abused and nevertheless always there, the Real Immortal, peeking out, terrific and absolute, enraged, bruised, aching, demanding to be listened. It’s really, really too bad that the Soul won’t make it by the end of the show. Because, we’re told, She’s complete. I say bullshit.

[senblades]

It's me, or the world

[all-too-unwell-13]

awkward confession time lmao

so even though i've read atyd 3 times, i've never actually read past chapter 170 purely because i didn't want to read james and lily's deaths (& ofc the others-)

anyway, i read the last 18 chapters today

AND THE ENDING.

it was devastating in, like, a good way??? kinda???

idk i'm still in shock help

[mysimsyuri]

FINALLY got to watch the musical episode !! im now more in love with my partners than i was before . you will always be famous to me jamaican inspector man o7

[love-overdrive]

Continuing off that ridiculous post I made about stands being in love with their user's s/o's stands, I bring you another cruddy addition to Heaven's Door and Dancing Queen's shenanigans using that one Sheen audio I saw on the reels.

Not pictured: Rohan contemplating if he should smash his face against a shelf to forget this ever happened

[haze-of-hyperfixations]

take care bee, i hope things calm down for you a bit soon ❤️

you're very kind and wonderful, thank you <3

i got this ask last week and it really helped me settle my emotions while i focused on the stuff i had to do, i've been keeping it in my inbox until i got the chance to answer it.

but yeah, i was having a bit of a time of it, and getting this ask actually made my day so much better. and things have calmed down a little bit now. :)

thanks mari <3

[aromanticasterisms]

my god i am ADORING the fontaine world quests so much they are so good

[acaciapines]

Sometimes I am just Looking At Things. Anyway pls tell us abt the alternate history of the Boiling Isles :)

......okay so it turns out that like all of the fun stuff is a huge massive spoiler so i cant actually say like. anything. this is devastating.

so instead you get what is the funniest thing in the world to me but is also 100% not explored at all in the fic itself so i dont think it counts as a spoiler:

when luz-mari travels back in time in elsewhere and elsewhen, and runs into philip/belos. due to the fake story they tell him about their past and their ability with glyphs. philip is 100% convinced that luz is the child caleb had with a witch <3

he doesnt realize this was a lie until he meets luz in the present of the show fgkdkjgdf. and even then hes like. hm. hmmmmmmm.

[filthyjanuary]

re: last reblog im actually crying a lil i had to go see if wayback machine had anything and like real ones remember

not the MJ breaking news hello??? these usernames too they're all so nostalgic to me

and of course i had to dig around to see if i could find one of my own posts to see how cringe my siggie was and well

truly the best days and the worst days and the most cringe days (honorific)

[crest-of-gautier]

oreo and max :D

[hyperions-light]

Here are my personal reasons for being fine that Varric is dead for real:

> Tired of them dragging this old man around everywhere. Let him rest!

> Was always the best in DA2, his natural environment. If I want to hang out with my bestest buddy Varric, I will do it as Hawke in the blood magic ritual hellhole that is Kirkwall

> DAI did not do anything interesting with his character. It looked like from previews that we were supposed to get an arc for him that never materialized. He was just there bc he was a fan fave, not bc it actually served the narrative or his character development. EA/BW execs or whoever were probably going to insist this continue forever bc money.

> I liked his dynamic with Rook in DATV, which was very different from Hawke and Inquisitor

> It was his choice. It was HIS choice! He tells you! He knew what might happen, and he chose to try and talk Solas down anyway. He prioritized someone he cared about over his own safety, which is an extremely Varric thing to do. He died fighting for his personal convictions and principles. That’s a good fucking death!

> He literally haunts the entire narrative and is integral to the story’s discussions of death

> He’s still there, you know? Stories make you immortal. Telling stories, being part of them; and he is everywhere. He is immortal within the diegesis of the narrative and externally, because he is the weaver and the heart of them. As long as there is Dragon Age, there’s Varric.

Thanks, Varric, and thanks Mary Kirby. It was a great ride <3

[ananke-xiii]

Missing Mothers and Missed Opportunities

Or: There can be three, four fathers in this show but there can only be one mother (and she doesn’t even want to be there, lol)!

One way that I like to see the first episodes of s13 is focusing on missed opportunities. Sam’s mind is in the past, he is very much ruminating about his missed opportunity with his mother while Dean’s mind is in the future as he is trying to deal with the fact that Cas is dead (although, to be honest, I think Cas’s death is a catalyst for Dean's much deeper issues related to his identity. As I’ve already said, in s12 Dean was in the process of understanding who he was regardless of his relationships and while he had some sort of reconciliation with Mary, he didn’t have any with Cas).

It’s no wonder, then, that Sam thinks that Cas and Mary might still be alive while Dean doesn’t. In Supernatural the past can come back and if it’s come back once why can’t it come back again? Past is hope. The future, however, is always “doom and gloom” in this series, it’s apocalypses, it’s “it ends bad, it ends bloody”, it is, in other words, super pessimistic. And “The Future” is impersonated in Jack and in the visions of the future he transmitted to Castiel which Dean blames for his death.

Sam is smart but it doesn’t take a genius to understand that if Jack has opened the rift once he might be able to open it again. Therefore, Sam sees in Jack an opportunity: if Jack can control and manage his powers he might open the rift again and Sam could get his mother back. What’s more, he also starts to see (what he thinks he’s) himself in Jack.

Dean: I told him the truth. See, you think you can use this freak but I know how this ends and it ends bad. Sam: I didn’t. Dean: What? Sam: I didn’t ‘end bad’. When I was the freak, when I was drinking demon blood. Dean: Come on man, that’s totally different. Sam: Was it? Because you could’ve put a bullet in me. Dad told you to put a bullet in me, but you didn’t! You saved me! So help me save him! Dean: You deserved to be saved, he doesn’t! Sam: Yes he does, Dean, of course he does!

The “What?” shows how the two are talking about completely different things. Maybe it was the word “freak” that triggered Sam, however I tend to agree with Dean here: Sam and Jack are not “totally different” but they are different. What I disagree with is when Dean says that Jack doesn’t deserve to be saved (Dean, Dean, Dean… you, just like everybody else, don’t need to “de-serve” anything. I swear to God the day we realize what the words we use actually mean maybe the world will really start changing). Because the thing is that Jack doesn’t need to be saved. He’s not a human who drank demon blood for what he thought was “the greater good” but turned out to be the beginning of his end. He was not part of a gigantic, messy, blatant scam involving Heaven and Hell. Jack’s partially the result of both Lucifer’s delusions of grandeur regarding Creation and Kelly’s conservative and dreamy desire to have a baby with the President of the USA (he was never gonna put any ring on it, girl and you knew it. Btw, Kelly is the baby-trapper in this story and no one else, I won’t change my mind ever), but he is nevertheless one of the most powerful beings in all existence. I honestly think that the only character who has ever understood Jack was Donatello.

Donatello: Oh. Speaking not as a prophet but as a scientist, I don’t think teaching him is in the cards. It’s like asking a lion not to be a lion. Sam: But this is not a lion! This is a human! Donatello: With a strong dose of God juice.

It’s not a strong dose of demon blood, Sam. It’s God juice, okay? LOL. Anyway, Donatello is super on point here: Jack is human and not-human. He’s a living aporia, the character where all the false dichotomies of the series show their fallacies. He’s “both… and” incarnated. He’s born and he’s already in his 20s. He’s a child and he’s a not-child. He has an age and he’s without age. Nobody will ever come close to understanding him if they cling close to a “black or white, good or evil” mentality. And this is why the show totally failed (for me) in s14 and how Sam is also failing here because he projects his own (respectable and very real) Lucifer-related issues with evilness onto Jack. Jack is beyond “good and evil” because he’s both human and angel, he embodies two different moralities and also transcends both of them because he’s neither only human nor only angel. To sum up, I don’t think that Supernatural, with its structure and its specific morality, could have handled a character like Jack. And this is why the show has to de-power him, de-soul him, make him die and resurrect etc.

Back to Sam and his failings. He projects his own stuff onto Jack, he wants to use him as a “can-opener”, he thinks Jack can be saved from “evil” because he can teach him. My question is: how much can Sam be negatively judged for these actions? My answer is: not so much.

As far as projections go, this is what he’s been doing from S1. Per SPN structure, both Sam and Dean have been projecting and identifying their issues onto the monsters of the weeks for 15 seasons. Jack is just the “Monster of the Season”. Projection and identification, identification and projection… I mean, this is what the show is about. If all of sudden Sam had woken up and miraculously solved all his identity-related issues the show would have been over.

As far as the utilitarian aspect goes, Sam has actually made some progress here. He “only” surveils Jack via cameras and tries to convince him to do some stupid exercises with a pencil. Previously on Supernatural Sam had literally enslaved, chained and imprisoned the people/creatures he wanted to use. These kids, they grow up so fast :”).

As far as the “do no evil” teaching goes, now here’s what’s really interesting to me.

The episode is “The Rising Son” and Sam’s passionate plea for Jack’s goodness via his teachings is paralleled to Asmodeus’s attempt at locating Jack in order to find him and harness his “timeless knowledge and unschooled power”. Asmodeus acts like Lucifer acted with Sam in S11 in that he pushes Jack to open up the earth “for God” (“I speak the words of God”, “God has a message for you”, “Do it for God” etc). Since Lucifer’s not here, though, Asmodeus wants to “[have]him (Jack) found and trained to rule. With me as his humble advisor, of course”. Of course we know he will fail because he himself says that he had tried to train the Shedim in the past and utterly failed.

ASMODEUS: I know the perils of Lucifer’s disappointment. DREXEL: He—he did that? ASMODEUS: Long ago. Eager to please, I freed the shedim. DREXEL: You… Oh, I’ve heard stories about— ASMODEUS: Oh, I’m sure you have. Hell’s most savage. Things so dark, and base, God himself would not allow them into the light. But I, in my pride, believed that I could train them. Use them. But Lucifer feared them, as well he should, so he forbade it, locked them up again.

This, of course, means that Sam will fail to train Jack/the Shedim too.

The parallel between Asmodeus and Sam must be explored because the show seems to pass it as an Evil (Asmodeus) vs Good (Sam) training but it’s not as simple as that. There’s even a scene where Asmodeus-as-Donatello talks about Jack with Sam and he seems to agree with Sam’s theory that Jack can be molded. While Sam thinks so because “Kelly was a good person”, Asmodeus-as-Donatello is obviously more interested in his evil father’s lineage.

While it’s true that both of them don’t even consider to give Jack a choice, to ask him questions and to try to understand him, they’re not exactly wrong when they agree that Jack’s powers do need some training, regardless of why they’re interested in his powers, Jack doesn’t have a grip on how his powers work. The show insistence on “good vs evil", however, completely ignores the very valid point where Jack’s powers are simply neither good or evil per se but they are “only” a(nother) force to be reckoned with.

This “good vs evil” thing obscures something very important and I think a distinction must be made here about what "training" really means in this context: Sam wants Jack to learn to master his powers, so that he (Jack) can be in control of them; on the other hand, Asmodeus wants to exploit Jack because of his powers, he wants to be the one who’s in control of them.

Both Sam and Asmodeus have an agenda, clearly, they’re also two characters very much interested in power. But when Asmodeus says that he wants to train Jack what he really has in mind is to groom him. Asmodeus’ techniques are very similar to Crowley’s with baby Amara and Demon Dean (I know Dean was not a child but he was one metaphorically because Crowley calls himself “Father” and “daddy” while he calls Dean “a rather scrumptious altar boy”. Ugh). These are predators’ techniques: their intent is to create intimacy with a person (for instance, Asmodeus takes on Donatello’s resemblance to lure Jack and take him to the Hell’s Gate), usually a child, to make them do what they want and abuse their victims, victims who usually don’t even realize they’re victims (Jack doesn’t know he’s being manipulated).

This is NOT what Sam means when he says he can teach Jack. Sam’s utilitarian mindset can be reproachable but his intent is not the same as Asmodeus. Sure, it’s still absolutely problematic but, again, his intent is not to open up the earth to release the Shedim and use Jack to rule Hell. He wants to open the rift to the Apocalypse World to find his mother. He is, in other words, being a softer version of John Winchester. In fact, he is replicating John’s methods because this is what he grew up with and this is what he knows. Avenging Mary’s death, finding Mary in the AU… even if the intent might be comprehensible it doesn’t justify both John and Sam’s attitude towards the reaching of their ends. Yet, their ways are still not the same ways of a Crowley or an Asmodeus.

The other thing is that John was Sam’s father. He was father to two human children whom he raised as if their childhood was a huge, endless military training. Training someone, as a concept, is not evil: if you have a skill or a talent or whatever, you need to train and learn and explore your limits. Having someone who believes in you and wants to help you in your training is not evil too: in fact, it might be a very good thing. It’s a problematic thing, however, when your caregiver is more focused on the training than the care. It’s even more problematic if said caregiver is a paranoid who raised his sons as soldiers. But this is still NOT the same thing as demons such as Crowley and Asmodeus do.

The differences in "training" and what Sam fails to understand about what happened with Asmodeus is explained in "Patience":

SAM: Even with Asmodeus, that just happened?

JACK: No, he made me. It was like, like he was in my head.

SAM: Okay um, then uh… Imagine him doing that.

JACK: No!

SAM: No? Why not?

JACK: Because I don’t want to! It’s just… I can’t do this! And you keep staring at me, waiting!

Asmodeus made Jack use his powers, he was in his head. He had also abducted him, manipulated him: he wasn't trying to train him, he was trying to groom him. Of course Jack doesn't want that.

If Sam is replicating his father's teachings we must then ask: who is Jack to Sam in this moment in the narrative? He’s definitely not his son nor his sibling. But he's not someone Sam keeps in locks either. As I’ve said, Sam has never been above imprisoning people in his dungeon to reach his goal, yet he takes another road with Jack, maybe precisely because he’s identifying with him and projecting onto him his own fears and issues with “being evil” and “being a freak”. There is something very similar between the two but what is it? And why is it not expressed? Maybe Sam is not Jack the way he thinks he is but they do share one thing: they have both missed the opportunity to create a bond with their respective mothers.

Sam only really utterly fails Jack when he’s dishonest with him. He eventually understands that and comes clean with him but I think that a lot of the initial issues happened because he was not communicating with Jack at all. And he didn’t even give him a choice. I think that if Sam were honest with Jack and gave him the choice to help him he would have discovered another thing that make them veeeery similar: both of them are okay with twisting human morality and… sort of… manipulate people a little to get what they want. Does this make them evil villains? To me, no. Does this make them human, layered, compelling characters that raise interesting moral questions more than give black and white answers? Totally yes!

Sam and Jack are not “totally different” but they are different. Conversely, they are not “totally similar” but they are similar. The Rescuing of the Mother can happen because The Loss of the Mother is something that Jack can deeply understand and relate to. He doesn’t want to save Mary just to please Sam and Dean. I think it’s deeper than that.

In case it wasn't clear, the conflation of Mary and Kelly is very clear in "The Big Empty":

MIA: You’ve lost someone recently? DEAN: No. JACK: My mother. SAM: Uh, our mother. We’ve having a difficult time.

Mary-as-Missed/Missing-Mother is such a central theme in this season that the Apocalypse World is a literal ramification of the Original World that's solely dependent on Mary Winchester’s choice to not deal with Azazel. John is never brought back and, more importantly, Sam and Dean are never born. This is a world where she’s not the mother. But why is Mary’s choice so vital it can create different timelines?

S12 and S13 implicitly seem to tell that everything that happened was because of Mary’s choice and… it’s, like, not true? Sometimes Sam and Dean are so ultra-focused on “free will” and “making the right choices” that tend to forget the part where both them and their parents were part of a larger scheme that was predicated on people ultimately being herd towards a designed pen. Like, while I think that Dean and Sam having issues with their mother is completely real and plausible, I don’t understand why the narrative re-frames itself in this way… I understand that they were going for a specific retelling of the first seasons but this is not just retelling, this is demolishing the premises of those series. S4-5 were precisely about the mystification and the perils of a glorified, Grand Destiny that in reality was nothing but a Big Scam. It’s not your destiny if your destiny is something that somebody else is telling you about and when this somebody else has a vested interest in you believing that you have that specific destiny. Or if somebody else is removing all of your choices leaving you with close to nothing to choose from.

Apocalypse World is, thus, such an unfair double-edged sword, cause on the one hand, it gives Mary agency but on the other it shows us that both choices resulted in… well, frankly, catastrophes. And I think it’s unfair to throw this huge weight onto her shoulders after they had dug her up from her grave while completely ignoring the whole thing about senior management angels playing puppeteers with the Winchesters.

Kelly-as-Missed/Missing-Mother is the other side of the coin of this little argument of mine because in s13 the writers demonstrated how Kelly must stay dead because one mother is enough and they didn’t know what to make of Kelly since she was not a hunter. She was just, as a character, Jack’s mother. The rift to the Apocalypse World was even possible in the first place because she (more or less, it’s complicated) decided that she would.have.her.baby. But, just like Mary before her resurrection, if his actual mother were back in the game it either meant that Jack was out of the game or that they had to include her in some capacity into the Winchesters dynamics and they didn’t want any of that. Mary’s death meant that Sam and Dean entered the hunters’ life, Kelly’s death assures the same for Jack. Plus, they all have an angel watching over them, isn't it just great? But hey, wait, this is the absent fathers show so we’re gonna give this kid three, four, five fathers!!! (sarcastic). Also, Alive Kelly wouldn’t be the Good, Perfect, Dead Mother that she is to Jack because, well, she would be a Real Character, not a memory on a pen drive and Alive Kelly would be so faaaar from the Good and Perfect Mother. Do we have to try to write another complex mother? One is enough!!! (sarcastic).

In conclusion, in s13 Sam’s (and Jack’s) huge missed opportunity stays… missing. Jack will go to the Apocalypse World and fight the angels with Mary whereas Mary decides to stay there (lol!) to help with the fight. They literally have to find a bus and move all the remaining AU people to the Original World because Mary has decided that she wanted to stay in a world where she didn’t choose John and she didn’t give birth to her sons (me asking Sam who has just died and was resurrected by Lucifer only to find out that his mother didn’t want to be saved: are you REALLY okay? LOL). I’ll stop here cause this is getting way too long but maybe, just maybe, s13 as a whole was a giant missed opportunity.

[opal-owl-flight]

Speak now, or forever hold your peace.

...

I shouldve just told you that I love you.

What if 4 never recovered from her greyscaling? These couple of pics are inspired by both a friend and a specific scene in Howl's Moving Castle :]

This whole scenario is inspired by @mushroomminded 's Agent 39 stuff! GAGH it broke my heart and I had to blend some squids to recover

Deets below!

"Its...." Marie whispers to Callie. "Its been 4 hours, and theyre starting to stink worse than usual. Should we do something..?"

Its not like shes not devastated by the loss, either. Shes the one who found her. She...

...cod, shes the one who dragged 4 into this.

If...if she didnt- shed still be-

How can she judge 3 for this? When she felt so similar? She looks at them now, usual steely expression replaced by this shattered face of guilt. Tears that have been streaming down their eyes for HOURS. Their voice, already so raspy on its own, barely made a sound as they again apologized to the machine for the hundredth time that afternoon.

Their body shook. Their already terrible hygene's gotten worse, too, for the last week. When did they last eat???

Callie's shaking whisper broke her out of her thoughts.

"Marie. What...what have we done to these kids?"

And 3s hugging this husk, leaning against it like a lifeline. They havent seen 4 for so long. And they- they were the reason she gave up.

Died under their command.

----------

Anyway... 3 with that husk is. Like Steven with Holo Pearl lmao, Treats it like its the real deal...

Speaking kinder words they never gave her when she was around them again. Giving her the warmth she needed. The company they never provided through the years.

Its...its the only softness they ever show before they clam up again. Whatever softness they have left after this, is hidden deep below an impenetrable shell. Unable to love again.

----------

Theyre only really doing it all when its already too late......lets all be glad 4 survived that ordeal.

[stereor4t]

lesbian movies I've seen so far (review based on my tastes)

I'm going to give my opinion of the lesbian movies I've seen so far and I'm going to give them a score from 1 to 5 stars :3 it may contain some spoilers

Bound(1996)

For the year this movie was made, I was actually surprised by the END of it(fuck the obsession with killing the protagonist). I didn’t really have much faith in it by how it stars, but man, I was so surprised, I loved it, be gay do crime. ★★★★☆

Gia(1998)

God, this movie is my new roman empire, I didn’t know about Gia’s story, but the ending of the movie DESTROYED ME. the scene where shes talking with Linda and she says: now we have all the time in the world, I was so moved by it, I loved it. It’s currently one of my favorite movies.★★★★★

Lost and delirious(2001)

ugh shakespearean shit, this movie touches more than one of us when it comes to the experience of liking girls. I liked it but I felt like there was a lot of wasted potential that could’ve made it great, tbh i just wanted Paulie to be happy; the fact the Piper Perabo is in it helps the score too. ★★★☆☆

D.E.B.S.(2004)

ITS THE BEST FUCKING MOVIE IN THE WORLD, GOD. I actually hated this movie before watching it ‘cause I thought it was some dumb comedy, but god, when I gave it a chance it BLEW ME AWAY. If you want to see some lesbian spies enemies to lovers shit watch debs.  ★★★★★

My summer of love(2004)

Personally, I HATED this movie kjj, I didn’t really get ANYTHING at all, like it felt like everything was just too rushed??? like when did they even fall in love lol? Gets points just for Emily Blunt. ★★☆☆☆

Imagine me & you(2005)

Piper Perabo again and Lena Heady THE WOMAN. This movie is ART, my fav movie, it’s beautiful, comfort movie af. The true don’t let your husband keep you from meeting your future wife. ★★★★★

Loving Annabelle(2006)

This movie was made for all of us who once liked a teacher or profesor. I liked it quite a lot, but I feel like seize it’s true potential. Personally, I choose to think that the alternative ending it’s the true one lol. ★★★☆☆

Bloomington(2010)

Again for us that like fantasizing about our teachers. I like this movie but again, I feel like they didn’t really make the most of it jskdja annoying af bitching about the same but yeah, it bothered me. Anyway, i liked the movie, and I didn’t like the ending at all,I felt bad for the poor teacher :c. ★★★☆☆

A perfect ending(2012)

I know a lot of people hate this movie and think it’s shit, but I personally love it lol. Idk I remember that when I watched it it got me super emotional and i liked it a lot, dont care what anyone says to me it’s a good movie. ★★★☆☆

The girl king(2015)

★☆☆☆☆

Didn’t like it at all, boring af, i didn’t really get it, idk, i was expecting more. ★☆☆☆☆

First girl i loved(2016)

Im fond of this movie, it was one of the first ones I saw, the ending just made a me a bit frustrated, but I liked it, Brianna Hildebrand with a wig funny as hell. ★★★☆☆

Disobedience(2017)

Rachel Weisz and McAdams DAMN. Great movie, I liked it in all aspects. Although the ending wasn’t what I expected I still liked it. ★★★★★

Tell it to the bees(2018)

Mmm I think this movie is kinda meh, like it’s okay but I feel like it lacks something for me to like it, tho I didn’t get the ending, like I don’t understand the decisions each one took. ★★☆☆☆

Ammonite(2020)

Kate Winslet and Saoirse Ronan!!!! I liked it but I didn’t love it, I never got to understand if Mary hated or loved Charlotte. The ending got me frustrated!!! ★★★☆☆

Crush(2022)

The kind of movie you gotta watch after Gia, I liked it I thought it was silly, like very much teenage romcom sort of shit, like the Kissing Booth but for lesbians. ★★★☆☆

You can live forever(2022)

I think this is a great movie, interesting story, I wasn’t expecting the whole ending sequence, what Marike says to Jamie destroyed me, in my head theyre the young version of the Disobedience ones. ★★★★★

Booksmart(2019)

GREAT MOVIE, very entertaining and funny, I liked it quite a lot, it’s perfect to watch it with friends. Gigi is just like me fr best character ever. ★★★★★

[wileys-russo]

That pic of mary and the baby hello…..i know you have written similar stuff before for her but could you do a blurb where the reader and mary have a baby together? maybe reader brings them to a match, once it’s over mary comes over to see them and takes the baby who instantly buries their head in her chest and all mary’s teammates notice and rush over to come see their favourite supporter

part of the a date to remember universe series 🫶🏻

crowd favourite II m.earps

you’d finally convinced your wife to let you bring your little bundle of joy to her first ever international football match, an england friendly against germany which being a euros rematch had already attracted a sold out crowd.

your wife forever over protective of both you and your little now nine month old daughter had banned the two of you from the previous england games claiming that the crowds became far too rowdy.

after a couple of months you’d started to take delilah to some of her home united matches, mary much more trusting of the crowds it drew in and knowing worse case she could be by your side in a minute if need be.

but now when you were up in the family and friends box staring down at your wife who was merely a spec in the wonderous size of a packed out wembley stadium, you’d needed to assure her over and over you would both be absolutely fine.

“well now do my eyes deceive me or is mrs earps finally off house arrest?” your head moved up toward the grinning blonde making her way over to you as you carefully stood with your daughter in your arms.

“hi lee.” you greeted the captain with a smile, kissing her cheek as she hugged you with one arm mindful of your daughter. “god she’s getting big, look at the hair on her!” leah gasped in surprise, ruled out from the game with a tweak in her knee sarina didn’t want to risk.

“you should see mary’s baby photos, this is nothing!” you laughed, kissing your daughters forehead affectionately before carefully passing her over to leah. you watched with a fond smile as the younger girl cooed at your daughter, face brightening as delilah rewarded her with a few giggles for her efforts.

“are you coming down?” leah asked nodding outside where you knew she’d shortly head down to sit behind the players bench with the rest of the staff. “i don’t think I have the clearance for that!” you laughed, handing off your daughter again to marys mum as she returned from the bathroom.

“please. look who you’re with! this face is all the clearance you need my girl.” leah grinned gesturing to herself making you roll your eyes playfully. “go! i’ve got her sweetheart she’s due for a nap soon anyway, mary will appreciate you being there.” julie smiled warmly.

“i’m just gonna see if she’ll feed before kick off. she was really fussy this morning with the bottle and mary not being home.” you sighed at the memory, barely able to have her drink more than a few mouthfuls.

taking delilah and grabbing your bag you moved toward the parents room, locking the door after you.

“-and you’re sure you don’t mind?” you asked your mother in law for the third time after your returned who shook her head with a laugh and waved you off. “darling she’s fed and fast asleep. go and enjoy the game!” the woman shooed you away as leah grabbed your hand, pulling you with her as you blew your daughter one last kiss.

“alright leah relax you’re gonna rip my arm off mate!”

~

“hi sexy.” you grinned at your wife as she finally made her way over after saying hi to as many fans as she could, the rest of the girls not far after her revelling in their 3-1 win.

“mary!” you squealed as your wife manhandled you up and over the barrier, placing you down on the pitch and kissing you fiercely earning you a few wolf whistles as you pulled away and buried your face in her shoulder.

“you’re so sweaty.” you mumbled with a sigh as she hugged you tightly, making a point to rub her face into your shirt as you pushed her off. “hello mrs earps! now where is mini earps?” you were quickly tugged into another sweaty hug by millie.

“up in the box with mary’s mum. nice to see you too brighty!” you poked accusingly at her chest. “excuse me it’s not my fault your bulldog of a wife won’t let us meet her unless through facetime!” millie pouted, several of the other girls around you joining in on their demands to meet delilah.

“hey i’ve been ready to bring her to the last three england games.” you defended, your wife sending you a murderous side eye for throwing her under the bus as her friends and team mates continued to whine at her.

“oh you guys haven’t met her? what a shame!” you were once again lifted into a sweaty hug as a smug alessia twirled you around and placed back on your feet, ignoring the unimpressed protests that followed her remark.

“stop winding them up. i’m raising you to be a pleasant and humble individual young lady!” you smacked her on the arm with a warning look as the blonde only grinned and kissed your cheek before you were pulled in by tooney who continued the teasing that the two of them saw your daughter almost daily.

“not a single one of you are laying a finger on her until you’ve showered, changed and washed your hands at least twice!” mary shouted sternly above all the noise, several of the girls all racing off to the change rooms making you laugh at their obvious eagerness.

“now look what you’ve done. whipped them into a bloody frenzy!” mary grumbled as she hugged you from behind, placing a few lazy kisses to your jaw as you leant into her secure hold, wincing slightly as she adjusted her arms to sit higher.

“hey love you alright?” she was back in front of you in an instant, hand caressing your cheek with a concerned stare as you nodded. “my boobs are killing me, i got her to feed earlier but i need to pump soon.” you mumbled in annoyance at your least favourite part of motherhood, your constantly aching chest.

“well i’ll make sure to give them lots of love and extra special attention and kiss them better for you later tonight baby.” the keeper whispered in your ear with a cheeky grin, hand moving around you to harshly squeeze your bum before giving it a smack as your eyes widened and you pushed at her chest.

“hope you’re washing your hands twice too after that little show mother mary!” millie and rach grinned wiggling their eyebrows at the woman, eyes widening as she lunged at them, chasing them off the pitch and back into the tunnel.

~

“hi gorgeous.” your wife was the first to appear upstairs, followed closely by a handful of her teammates whom you’d assume the girl kept held hostage in the change rooms until she was ready to come up herself.

“she just woke up, look whose back lilah!” you cooed rocking the infant in your arms as mary beamed, tickling underneath her chin as your daughter reached out for her eagerly.

a resounding chorus of aw’s echoed as mary scooped her up and your daughter buried her face in her hoodie covered chest, mary attacking her with kisses on every inch of her body as you watched on with a smile.

“right! make an orderly queue please girls. and no pushing! yes mills i’m looking at you when i say that.” your wife ordered sternly, bouncing your daughter on her hip as her team mates hurried to line up for a hold, the entire ordeal making you laugh.

“ah no! you let them have their turns you both saw her yesterday.” you were quick to grab both ella and alessia as they rushed past you, yanking them down into the seats beside you and ignoring their protests.

eventually they both gave up and rested their heads on either one of your shoulders, the three of you chattering about your plans to take delilah to the zoo next weekend. yet another thing you’d sworn the pair to secrecy over not wanting to upset the rest of their team mates much as the two loved nothing more than to flex their godmother and favourite aunty status about.

mary caught your eye with a grin as she protectively watched over your daughter, shaking her head at your two adopted daughters sprawled across your sides.

but neither of you would change a thing, your perfect little family.

[2demondogs]

With Chrismas around the corner (not really but basically), i would love an Arthur x GN!reader where Arthur proposes to reader for Chrismas and they obviously say yes because, well, it's Arthur, who wouldn't?

Anon did you read my mind. I was just thinking about proposal fics when you sent this ask because I have yet to stumble on one somehow... I'm sorry this took forever btw T-T

Shoutout to my platonic boyfriend for helping me with ideas because I got writer's block <3

Words: 3k oh my good lord Tags: canon divergence (it's just people leaving the gang a chapter early), Arthur does not have tuberculosis, INSTANT spoilers for character death, cheesy shit

It's been too long, you're realizing, since holidays like Christmas felt like special things. There is a double-edged feel to this one — it is the first since Hosea's death, since leaving the gang — but it is the first, in a very long time, that you've spent in the so-called right way: in a warm house with four solid walls and someone you love, how those fanciful books Mary-Beth used to talk your ear off about always wrote.

The house is warm enough, anyways.

There's work that needs done on the cabin. Some of the wood is rotting out and chipped at the corners, forming into sharp splinters that you've brushed against one too many times, but it is a house. You haven't had this pleasure since before joining the gang.

Sometimes, with how content Arthur seems at baseline, you wonder if he's had this pleasure since early childhood. On quieter evenings, ones less reserved for happiness than this one, there has been clipped discussion about how Arthur has never had domesticity like this. Silently, it was an admission of how good it is to share this freshness with you.

During a ride into town, he'd admitted that he had never picked up painting because it was the sort of thing only steady folks got to enjoy. You'd gotten him a set of oil paints when no one was looking — he's worth much more than a few measly dollars, but that means little if you haven't got them to begin with. Some habits die hard; he was happy you remembered what he'd said only a few hours before.

Come the new year, Arthur plans to find work that will pay. New things are a luxury neither of you care much to indulge in, but the repairs will take lumber and maybe a few extra hands. Ones with more expertise, at least, because Arthur's houses usually have not had foundations.

You could simply move now that time has passed, yes. You could find somewhere much farther away, maybe even New York, and pack yourselves in alongside the other sardines bustling about a city, undetectable in uniformity. Shave beards, got jobs, change clothes, cut hair and color it, too, if paranoia strikes— but keeping low to the ground has worked itself out so far, and there is no more of that deathlike stagnation in the air of this place.

Sentimentally, you think this Christmas will seal off whatever makes this cabin yours. Shadows linger, there's been a few odd creaks that've spooked the horses, and maybe it's going to shit a lot quicker than either of you want to admit, but it's your shit-house and the shared stubbornness between you has always brought you nothing but closer to one another.

Arthur is tired of running, and so are you. Last week, he talked about writing to Mary-Beth and Simon, maybe checking if Kieran — the utterance of the man's proper name was a confirmation of the last of that stockholmlike regret having worked out of his system — had broken and followed his little girlfriend. It wasn't said with malice, just some amusement.

"Why do you think he would?" You'd asked.

"Dutch only saves people who don't ask for it," he'd said, and that wistful look in his eyes vanished before you could ask what it meant.

Maybe it's the hard work that makes it feel like a real, true holiday. Pearson and Grimshaw stopped working everyone harder in the winter over the years, once the familial glamour faded with each new addition to the gang. It was no longer a tight-knit group, but a posse, more or less, of runaways and strays all against a big, evil thing like the rest of the world, or whatever it was that Dutch grew to fear.

Since November, Arthur has been saving the best catches to be salted and stored for Christmas dinner. Each addition is cleaner skinned and cut than the last, and the newfound worst of them ended up being ate upon his return from hunting. You've both been saving back herbs since summer, dried and ready to be crumbled into the heated up pot come time for a real feast. Cornbread was made by hand for the first time since you settled down here, drizzled with honey from the general store a ways out.

The latter was Arthur's only specific request for a fancy dinner. If you hadn't gotten him a single gift save for making it, he'd still be happy as a clam.

He's been putting that goddamned honey on everything. You're glad he seems to be enjoying things again, not as tightstrung as he was before you'd made off with him. That's how it feels, anyways, after the long and struggling conversations that were had before the decision was made. Family or life? It's a hard question for someone who has such little concept of either.

Now, the grey hair in his beard is catching the light from the fireplace where he's sat himself on a chair before it. They'd sprouted through the sun-bleached blond atop his head has been looking lighter and lighter in recent months, grey finally catching up to the discoloration and giving him some malcolored sort of tabby look. It's a good one on him, as much as he complains about looking old as dirt and that it's all formed by stress.

For all the lacking color, it adds a ruddy warmth to his face. Daydreams of growing old together find you when you focus on it, or on his wheezing laugh that's gotten worse with the cold weather. Despite the woolen vest he's been sporting, his fingers are as chilled as yours whenever they've brushed. Idly, you wonder if he's gotten whatever Hosea grew into, then remember they were never by blood.

Arthur hadn't wanted you to get him any gifts. When you asked if he would get you something, he'd flushed and changed his mind, apparently already having done it.

Whatever it is, it's good-sized, wrapped in one of the dustcloths you'd gotten him alongside the paints. He's been spending more time painting, lately, tucked in the treeline and looking over the cabin or deeper into the woods, studying something plein air the way those professionals do. He'd propped it against the wall this morning, and once you've settled on the floor before the fireplace — too cold outside not to crowd close to it — after dinner, he looks between you and the cloth like he isn't sure what to do.

"D'you wanna do the honors?" He asks, and grins although the twitch of his eye tells you he's covering timidity with faux cockiness.

"You go ahead," you say, half because he's closer. Tormenting him in small ways must be part of any good gift.

The painting is an image you recognize. A photo that one of the girls took for you months before things went down the hole, using the camera Arthur was loaned by some feller in town who wanted photos taken for a book. He never returned it, and it more or less became something he tucked beneath his cot and let the elements beat around. You can't remember, now, who it was or where he went to get it developed.

The little inkling of pride you felt knowing he kept putting off getting the negatives developed — not enough money, not enough time — yet was gone the next morning to have yours developed returns, now.

It's a much nicer rendition of it, your clothes not dirty and his arm around your waist, the other holding his hat to his chest. It's clear he preferred to give your portrait more detail, his own lagging somewhere behind in clarity and looking closer to the photo. You suppose it's easier to look at someone besides himself, but there's a clearer enjoyment in the lines of you, more care taken in the color mixes.

Ignoring the dense joy of the implications of that, of how obvious it is, proves difficult. Your cheeks twinge some from the wide smile before you realize you're even reacting.

"You'll be a big name someday," you say, and he may as well shrink in on himself beneath the praise, although he's heard it plenty of times before.

"Naw," he waves a hand. "Quit that."

"Really, Arthur." Scooting closer, laying your hands over his knee. He's moving his jaw when your eyes meet his, lays a hand over one of yours, heavy and warm. "It's beautiful. I love it."

"Good," he says. His jaw clicks. "I— uh, I love you."

The hunting knife you got for him seems small, though relatively equal. Arthur looks as pleased as ever studying it, half-mumbling appraisals of yeah, nice and sharp, sturdy to himself that likely would've stayed inside his head, if it weren't for wanting to show you he liked it.

A bone handle, which he feels over with his fingers before noticing it's engraved, fits easy in his palm. You were afraid you push your luck with maintaining its quality too far adding the tiny, vague bear shape next to the deeper cut of his name. Already impressive was the fact that you hadn't ruined it with the letters, being one of your first expeditions into anything of the sort.

"I would've gotten you one of those folding knives," you explain. "But they don't hold up as well, and I know you have one."

The army knife was Hosea's.

"Needed me a new huntin' knife," Arthur says. You know, because he's complained about his current one being close to snapping with all the skinning he does anymore. He squints at the handle, turns it over in the light from the fire. "Did you engrave the handle?"

"Yessir."

He smiles. "It's real nice," he says, pats his palm with the blade softly. It makes a dull noise, sturdy metal on skin. "Why a bear?"

"They remind me of you," you admit. Really, you'd spent a long time considering what else to add, because only his name seemed so plain; although he wouldn't be opposed to flowers or vines, they are a little more intricate than a simplified bear head. "Big and strong. Hairy, too. I'd like to hug one."

He snorts a laugh, but it seems thin. His eyes are fond enough on you that it couldn't be any rejection of your words, and so you brush it off. "You wanna hug a bear?" He asks.

"In a perfect world," you amend. "Don't they look warm?"

"You'd better stick to me," he says, smooths a palm over the thigh of his jeans. The nicest pair he owns, he promised you, because he feels ridiculous in slacks and seems to think you care what he wears.

Beyond thinking everything looks well on him, at least. You often find yourself concerned with that thought.

"I got you somethin' else," Arthur starts, running a finger over the bunched inseam at his own knee. "Well, uh— it's f'both of us, really."

Isn't that intriguing, you think, but your silent, undivided attention seems to make him outright nervous, so you say: "Oh?"

Some conflict happens over his face as he pulls his vest collar away and reaches into the inner pocket, takes out a stack of thin papers that he glances over before apparently relenting to something. Confusion finds you, until he takes a deep breath and holds them towards you.

"Read these," is all he says, and he sounds like it's almost painful.

He's written much, much more than that. Your stomach turns, once or twice, realizing they are pages from his journal. Uncertain why, until the first entries which are skittering on affectionate fade into ones much more flowery. They are all about you, days you'd spent together or times you hadn't, the things you've given him over the years and the things he wished he could've given you.

Each page makes your chest feel tight with a panicked joy, as if his hands were not fiddling with the new knife to occupy — distract? — himself but clenching hard at your heart.

One, near the beginning, says he thought of pickin' a pretty lil' flower, God bless it, I feel ridiculous; on the back of the next is pressed a variegated tulip, crumbling with age but holding firm to whatever adhesive glues it to the paper. Again, that creeping smile, like thyme. Another entry is entirely about your hair, because it had brushed his arm. Only a few sentences made up that page, below the cursive a choppy sketch of your horse.

Certainly, Arthur stays busy in his head. You've always known as much, but never figured any of it was about you. Not like this, anyways, though the dates spread from the week before Blackwater and you can only wonder what laid in that journal he lost before.

"Oh, Arthur," you start, looking up from a third-way through, feeling giddy but not wanting him to watch you so intently while you finish them. No wonder he was shy. It's his heart. "You're so sweet."

"Finish readin' 'em," Arthur says, doesn't meet your eyes at first. When he does, they're gentle. "They get sweeter, y'know, better finish 'em. 'Cause of that."

He is nervous. Hardly moving, besides the tongue running over his teeth beneath his lips, and the rambling every time he opens his mouth. You don't mind, never have. He's endearing like this.

Outings you'd went on infrequently, the dates of his favorites underlined, you're noticing, based on the tone of his words in them; his worries and fears about courting you, and some of what you mean to him though, with its succinctness, you have a feeling he wouldn't dare put all of his genuine love to findable paper; things he likes about you, and one page where he admits that he cannot keep himself from documenting you in every other entry, which tells you this small collection is hardly everything. The previous entries turn over in your mind again, and you are struck on a random page for a moment as their meanings take hold, realizing they were especially sliced from his journal to show you.

The entries leading to the last are what set your mind and pulse ablaze. From the first appearance of the word marriage, you swallowed your idea of what may be coming — Arthur's breathing changing beside you doesn't help any, and it certainly does not help that he leans down once you've reached the last page, plucking it from your hands. Before he does, you notice quite a few crossed out lines, scribbles as if he were frustrated with not being able to find the right words.

"Think I've got the balls on me to read this one aloud, at the very least," he says, voice laced with a chuckle. Breath comes uneasy, but you collect yourself enough to gather the pages back into a neat, ordered stack in your lap. "Unless you'd rather spare me," he adds, nudges your knee with the toe of his shoe.

"No." Your voice sounds strange, even to you. "Do me the honors."

Arthur bites his cheek, nods and lets it fall as he smiles. Still, his hand finds the back of his neck, the page held between two fingers that remain surprisingly steady. The knife lingers in his hand beneath it, and isn't it just like him to propose holding a weapon.

Propose. It takes its first toll on you, rolls over your back in shards of tingling.

"December twenty-fifth, eighteen ninety-nine," he starts, eyes flicking to your face every other word until the intensity of your gaze must make him too anxious. "It's a nice little life, livin' with the one I love," — rubbing his mouth, sighing some — "Jesus, I always gotta be sappy." You laugh, though it comes out more forceful than you intended, and relax some until he continues. "The thought of another day where anythin' could happen 'n' we ain't bound is somethin' I hate."

Arthur pauses, stands up and places the journal entry on his chair. You take his hands when he holds them out to where you sit, grunting when he hauls you off the ground with more force than you expected, feet shuffling into place to stick all-too-close to his. His hands are burning, skin feverish when you grab his wrists, as if you'd ever want to stop him as he eases onto a knee before you.

And his eyes throw you off balance, too, catching the light just enough that you can tell they are stinging. So are your own, now that you think about it, but intelligent thoughts go out the window once you sense him about to speak.

"I wanna be 'til death do us part," Arthur confesses, fumbles to catch both of your hands in his in an awkward, squeezing hug of a hold.

The way your bones catch on one another, well— it's not a sensation you'll forget, like the first time he kissed you and you felt it still a week later, warm pressure on your mouth if you got too lost in the memory. He looks as good, looks so nice, and you know your fingers would be shaking if he weren't crowding them together, steady.

When he says your name, the blood is rushing through your ears too loud to hear it clearly; you almost want to ask him to do it again. "Will you marry me?"

Nodding, face slack before it spreads in a grin. "Yes," you say. "Of course I will."

His is hidden by how he lets go of your hands, catching them before they fall in stupid, limp joy back to your sides. He lays kisses along the knuckles, all three rows of them. It's so awfully saccharine and yet you could never tell him to quit being sweet— not now, not as he stumbles to his feet after you pull him up and shake off his hold to grab his face, tugging him into a kiss.

Arms come around your waist, squeeze tight enough to hurt, or to hold in place. Arthur runs a hand over your back, breaks the kiss to slide a hand into your hair and press your face to his chest, caging you in his arms. He smells warm, like good cologne, and you know he's been planning this.