#but I’m just overjoyed people like my edits and don’t think I’m a freak

[pixelatedraindrops]

I feel like I’m just becoming a sick whump blog that reblogs good sick whump and the only time I post it is if I’m making an edit tormenting someone else xD

[moonsquaremars]

11th house thoughts

Hi everybody.

I have an 11th house stellium, and I love it. Probably because my venus is in there, der planet of luv, as well as mars, lust et aggression, and mercury, th’ intellect. 

My sun missed it shy of 1° ; had i been born just a few minutes earlier, I would have been an 11th house sun. But I’m a twelfer. Why, might you ask? My mother has an 11th house stellium afterall, so did my ex-boyfriend. Well, if you ask, my father is a twelfth house sun. 

And I’m learning to live with that. 

Just kidding. Anyways, I love my 11th house stellium. If you’re unfamiliar, the eleventh house is ruled by aquarius. Each of the twelve houses in astrology corelate to each of the twelve signs of the zodiac. The planet which governs both this house and sign is the planet of Uranus, which is my favorite one in our solar system :) I did a random generator a guy posted on reddit to find out which planet is dominant in your chart, and when I plugged everything in, I got Uranus. I was actually quite surprised by this, but overjoyed. I love everything uranus represents. Eccentricity, humanitarianism, chaos.

I am a cancer sun, though, and virgo moon. Cancer rules the moon, so wouldn’t that be my dominant planet? Or is it just my chart ruler? I don’t know. But the moon is so fleeting. Kind of chaotic, actually. Since the moon passes each sign every few days, that’s what makes us cancers so moody. We feel the energy of all the signs within a months time. Can you imagine how that feels? constantly knowing what other people are feeling and thinking? Or maybe I’m just imagining it. I am crazy, after all :p

I digress. The 11th house is fabulous. It rules the finer things in life. My ex-boyfriend was a dandy man, took me to fancy restaurants and hotels, the works. I need that sort of thing, I admire and crave it. Don’t get me wrong, I’m very in tune with income inequality and the social issues that plague the world. But I still love dressing up in fancy clothes for a decadent night out. I suppose this is attributed to my stellium, but I’ll take it. A stellium by the way is when you have three or more planets in one house.

It’s kind of odd that my mom has an eleventh house stellium because we grew up quite poor. Nothing about her really screams fancy besides the fact that she adores drinking wine, is beautiful, and we live fancier only if you put us in to comparison with poorer people around us. We did grow up wearing nice clothes though. My mom would buy us second hand designer brand clothes like tommy hilfiger. Maybe that’s not designer, maybe that’s just brand name. I’m from Kentucky, give me a break. But we Kentucky fancy, baby.

Uranus being my dominant and favorite planet, is in my 7th house, the house of libra and relationships. Perhaps someone could pull up my chart {in the tags] and enlighten me on why it might be my dominant planet. I might also add that my draconic moon is in aquarius, which is supposely what your ‘soul’ truly is. I don’t quite believe that, because I think the soul is larger and smaller than the twelve signs of our universe. Or maybe just our solar system. At least of our conscience understanding of things at this time. Astrology is just a bunch of symbols made of our world to organize and communicate ieas n information. It’s not much more than that.

I recall being very internet savvy in middle and high school. My north node and chiron are in my third house, house of gemini and communication. All of my 11th house stellium planets are also in gemini. I see this being accurate because I am rather small in frame, standing at 5 foot 9 and weighing 125 pounds since I was thirteen years old. My mouth gets me in trouble, whether it’s from accidentally offending or just not being able to shut up! I would constantly be editing my myspace profile, using html codes, messing with the layout and how it interacted with my profile picture and song, and anything else I added to it. I loved it, and then that transitioned to my tumblr blog which I did in high school. Hopefully tumblr doesn’t die out, it’s definitely not what it used to be. Later when stumbleupon was something, I would look up things about futurism, humanism, design. I loved reading about the future. It made me so freaking excited. Like what will life be like in 2040? So cool! Or 2600? Then it made me sad once I accounted my age into the picture. I don’t wanna be 40! and that’s so far away! I hate waiting. 

I’ll end this post on something interesting I noticed. My boyfriend of a year had an eleventh house stellium. After we broke up, I had two guys I was interested in. I was actually quite torn, because they were both so amazing, but so different. One was elegant and familiar with astrology and addiction issues and had money. He was like this worldly man with fantastic package hehe helped cure this mundane “what’s the point?” feeling I had about learning languages and stuff. He made me feel like there was in fact a point to all of it. He’s a scorpio just like me mum and we just had great chemistry. But I was already seeing a nother guy, who was this gentle, down the earth, all around manly man’s man. I loved him, but in a different way. He was simple, but the first time I slept over at his house, he picked me up in this kinda old but kinda new like beat up stick shift hyudai sedan. He reminded me of Wario. But he had an amazing package as well. we mostly just slept though ,and when I slept with him, I felt like I was back in bed with my father when I was like five or seven years old. I already know how that sounds, and I know the childish bunch of you or dommage who lack a healthy relationship with your father if y’ar, are going to come for me and say that’s gross or messed up or perverted or weird. It’s not. I don’t want to fuck my father, I never have, and I never will. I really don’t want to open this can of worms because I could go on about people I’ve met who have been sexually assaulted by their fathers or who have an incest fetish and I’m not trying to shame any of those people. But, I felt like I was back in bed with my father like i was when i was a kid while I was laying with him, and that was a really, really, really good feeling. I never forgot it. He had an aries sun, which I used to hate aries. It was my least favorite sign, and probably still is tbh, along with aquarius LOL. Oh and his moon was in taurus which explained everything. My dad is a taurus sun, as are my two sisters, my grandpa, and one of my good friends, Chelsea. My moon is in virgo in the second house, which is the house of taurus.

Well, mr. fancy pants had an 11th house stellium, and my down to earth sweet S had a third house stellium. Finding these things out did nothing to absolve my confusion, only added to the ache of not knowing which to choose. Talk about love triangle though. It did make me realize why I was in this predicament though, and I suppose it worked out because I don’t really talk to either guy anymore. But The seventh and third houses are also air houses, just like the 11th. 

11th house - Aquarius/uranus, 

7th house - libra/venus, 

3rd house - gemini/mercury

That’s all for tonight. I’m ever behind on french homework, so I oughtta go take care of that. I want to write on the twelfth house, since my sun is in there as well as my father’s, and why I don’t appreciate its doom and gloom persona. If each house correlates to a sign, then the twelfth’s would be house of pisces. Pisces is the last sign with a bad stereotype. At least from my perception, it’s one of the best. So humanistic and kind. So why is its house the house of prison and addictions and psych wards and have all this hubbub, this &thatt?

Au revoir! -K  ý ll

[thefeedress]

FFA MUSINGS

I was 17 when I learned the terms "feeder" "feedee" and "feederism" from stumbling across one of those trash documentaries about the kink. Apparently, my sexuality revolved around extremes and predators: creepy straight men coercing naive women into transforming their bodies and their lives - the women didn't particularly seem to be getting off on it or even have much agency in the whole thing. The men were awful. (Sometimes, these days, I look back and wonder how much all the negatives of what I saw were exaggerated by the editing…)

That was my lightbulb moment, where I discovered the label for something very personal and private that I'd had all my life but always felt confused and ashamed about. I now also had the pleasure of feeling extra disgusting and very alone, having been shown what horrible company I was in, and that I now knew I was a feeder, but apparently all feeders were men.

Any furtive investigations online (in the reasonably early days of the internet) seem to confirm this suspicion: female feeders were not A Thing, there might possibly be one or two others out there at best. Male gainers only seemed to exist in their own niche in gay subculture, and although I was happy they were out there somewhere living their best lives, they were obviously Not For Me.

I was 34 when after years of pushing it all to the back of my mind, I finally gave in. I've been with the same (non-feedist) partner since my early 20s, so I just assumed that I'd never be able to explore it irl anyway, and that was that. I can't remember what happened or why I decided that I had to try to find some others to connect with, even just to chat with, but in the end (with my partner's blessing) I found and joined Feabie (of which I have many opinions but I'll leave those for another time…) and interacted with other feedists online for the first time in my life.

Guess what: straight male feedees exist. They exist, and there's fucking loads of them!! Tons of the buggers in my inbox all day every day for weeks. Pretty heady experience going from outcast freak to Much Sought After Item - apparently female feeders really are quite rare, or we don't have much of an online presence (or most of us are lurking in a secret lair somewhere that the others haven't invited me to, rude….) or they're also out there somewhere thinking they're the only one.

The unbridled glee of feeling popular and desirable for being something I'd always felt ashamed of did wear off a teensy bit after the endless onslaught of "hey" "hi" "how u" "ayy babygurl" "I'm looking for a feeder please accommodate all my kinks even though I'm a total stranger and I clearly don't give a shit about you as a human being" "You're a woman on the internet I'm entitled to your attention don't be difficult what's your problem" and my current favourite, the bizarrely ominous "Can I ask ur opinion?" (The answer is no my friend, if I wanted to be spammed with anonymous torso pics that I'm meant to manufacture comments about that you can get off to I'd have asked YOU.)

But. I'm still completely overjoyed that male feedees exist, that I've spoken to so many cool and interesting and lovely guys, that I've had experiences I'd always assumed I wouldn't, that I FINALLY MET OTHER FFAs and they are awesome and now I'm close friends with one and it's freaking GREAT. All of this has also lead my partner and I to discover polyamory and now I'm in love with two people who love me back NOBODY EVER SAID YOU WERE ALLOWED TO DO THAT WHY THE FUCK DID NO ONE TELL ME

There are so many nuances and preferences I'd never considered. I knew what I liked and that's what I sought out in terms of porn and that was that. Actually talking to feedees and learning about the whole spectrum of things they each did or didn't enjoy or want to participate in was a revelation, and also helped me clarify my own preferences myself.

There are still things I've yet to come to terms with or decide how to feel about. The main things I'd always felt guilty or ashamed of were less to do with fat or fat guys, it was the feeding itself.

Where being an FFA is concerned - I like to think that if I'd ever been lucky enough to have a fat boyfriend when I was younger, I wouldn't have been shallow enough to care what anyone else thought. It's possible I'm giving my younger self too much credit; I know for certain that some people in my life would have made nasty comments, I was also hugely insecure myself, and I have no idea what it really would have been like. I have no doubt that living all my life in a fatphobic society has affected me in more ways than I'm even aware of (same as everyone else in some way, I'm guessing....). I think any uneasiness I felt there was less worrying about shallow friends or family members, and more how to find potential fat partners without offending them. I have always been conscious of the fact that the majority of fat people would very likely be horrified to be thought of and objectified through the lens of this fetish. You never know what someone's relationship to their own body is, but it's safe to bet that it's a more complex one than it seems, and also, unless you're expressly invited into that relationship by that person, it's none of your fucking business.

But anyway, the main reason I never had many hangups about it was that I don't think I even *was* attracted to fat people when I was young - sometimes I'm not sure I was even attracted to anyone. I had crushes on boys all the time, but I never thought of anyone sexually. My teenage fantasies were pure belly kink: stuffing, chugging, bloating, inflation, any kind of ridiculous fantasy belly expansion - the actual fattening aspect of feeding was less a part of it, and fancying fat dudes was never connected to it. By the time I'd begun to join the dots and wonder if I liked fat boys, I'd started to happen across media that portrays the worst of Feedism, and since I liked sadistic fucked up stuff and already felt ashamed of it, all of that just confirmed to me that I was right to hate myself. Even now, when I'm exposed to much more conversation about this kink than I ever used to be, I notice a lot of love for soft feedism, wholesome fatness appreciation, body positivity, romance (all of which I absolutely love, don't get me wrong) and I still sometimes feel Iike I'm being left out of the party. Keeping my fingers crossed for more consensual femdom-feedism love (and content, ugh…)

But… what would have happened if I hadn't gotten the fuck over myself and put myself out there, tried to find others? How many other young people see themselves portrayed horribly in the media and hide parts of themselves FROM THEMSELVES forever? What happens next? I've apparently found the one person who likes all the same twisted things I do, but actually getting to see him irl ever or do any of the things we want to do seems impossible, and not just because of Covid.

This fetish is lonely for most of us I think, in some way or another. There aren't many feedists, there don't seem to be as many female feeders or male feedees, there probably aren't many people who will share the same preferences within the fetish that you do, and frankly when you filter out the people who aren't crazy or creepy or don't know how to hold a conversation, the pool shrinks even further. I've seen plenty of posts bemoaning how hard it is to find someone, but seriously, having spent most of my life in a vacuum where this stuff is concerned, I'm still buzzing from having engaged with the small handful of people I've engaged with, even just to chat to.

What I want to say to my younger self is: you're a good person. You're just a kinky bitch, that's all.

I feel like this description probably applies to all the best people, I can live with that.

[guidesfornoobers]

LOTRO Game settings for noobs

Hi!

In the past week a lot of new players joined the game and many of them experiencing issues due to inexperience with either the game itself or with the digital world in general. Because of this I decided to make a complete noob guide showing what settings you may need to change for your computer and how/where you can find them.

NOTE: My settings aren't guaranteed to fit for your computer, you might need to experiment on what works for you! I'm just trying to give you a starting point.

The first step is changing your client to 64 bit if you haven't done already. My game experience moved up quite a bit when I switched and I recommend you doing the same. The 32 bit soon looses support anyway so that’s a good point too.

[Open the pictures in new tabs to see them properly]

The second step is the graphics everyone tells you about. There are 3 ways to access them, the first one is after logging in to your server. Above the “Enter Middle Earth” and “Quit” buttons you can see “Options”.

The second, probably easiest way is to press CTRL+O after entering Middle Earth. If you don’t feel confident/comfortable enough for using hotkeys, then you can check this picture for the third method:

On the next picture you can see some difference between the two "options" panel , which I only show you to not freak out if you chose the first method since I'm using the second panel in the tutorial.

[The green bar shows the difference, the red bar the ones we go through.]

Now to the actual graphics settings. Most people with weaker PC’s have better performance with DirectX9. I think the screen mode is mainly preference, so I ruled it as useful. Personally I like the windowed mode more in general, but also my game runs smoother like this.  

I didn't want to upload so many pictures, so I edited the advanced graphics into one big pic. This is also the part where you might have to experiment and see what is good for your computer.

NOTE: If you unsure about something, move your mouse on the name of the setting. Usually it gives you a general description. See below:

And finally my favorite option in the game! Go to “Troubleshoot” and check the engine speed. After changing this setting my performance almost skyrocketed. 

EXTRA: The last thing that helped me a lot with LOTRO was changing my browser. I don't know about you, but my browser is always open when I'm playing in case I need to look up something. Also because when doing repetitive quests I like to listen to either music or dumb stories on Youtube. I was using Chrome before for these purposes and I had a lot of issues because the two programs slowed down each other. That was until about seven months ago when I found out about Opera GX from one of the gaming channels I watch on Youtube. This is a free browser that was specifically made for gamers with the option to set up how much CPU and RAM you want your browser to use. I was overjoyed at the prospect and immediately jumped on it and I definitely don’t regret it! Not only the game became smoother, but I don't have to wait minutes for my browser to be search ready and I can have more than one page (usually 4 or 5) open without issues.

LAST NOTE: Check your task manager and make sure the only programs you have running are the ones you’re using at the moment and the ones that necessary for your computer to work.

Thanks to all these things I wrote down above, nowadays I only have to deal with the general issues of the game which means a lot less headaches than before. I hope I could help with this little guide and see you on Middle Earth!

[audreysfabulousblog]

Imagine Being Pregnant with Jimmy Darling’s child

Relationship: Jimmy Darling x Reader

Fandom: AHS (Freak Show)

Warning: language, insecurities, nothing you wouldn’t see on the show tbh

Word Count: 2,556

Author’s Notes: I’ve never posted my writing on this blog and I’ve never written for AHS. I’ve been watching pregnancy announcement videos because they’re so pure and cute. And I just finished Freak Show yesterday and love Jimmy Darling. So, when this idea popped into my head, I had to write it! Thought I’d share as I don’t see too many imagines for him and idk, why not? Also not edited so don’t come for me lol

Jupiter was too hot. It had a heat you weren’t used to and if it wasn’t for the job a friend of a friend had found for you - a job you desperately needed - you wouldn’t have ever come to this tiny little town. You’d never have wondered off to see the freak show that your co-workers insisted on dragging you along with them to as it was the most exciting thing to happen in Jupiter since the first movie theater opened about fifteen years ago. That’s where you met him.

Jimmy Darling.

You spotted him by the tent, just walking by as you all filed in from the heat outside. He was wearing a simple white tank top and jeans. It was just a glimpse of him but you could tell by his side profile he was handsome. Your heart fluttered a little at the thought of such a handsome young man here tonight. 

When he stepped out onto the stage after the announcement of “Lobster Boy,” you stared. His eyes scanned out into the crowd. He’d tell you later that he’d learnt to scan outwards over the tops of people’s heads to avoid seeing their faces. To avoid seeing them stare at his hands. The bright spotlight usually helped but the seats your friends and gotten weren’t good and the light of the spotlight faded when it reached you. 

Your friends giggled when they saw him look a you. You blushed at the attention, both that of your friends and his. But Jimmy said he stared because when his eyes swept over towards you, automatically catching sight of the faces of the people not blinded in the spotlight (a reaction he couldn’t stop from happening though he often tried to avoid the sight of the shocked horror or cruel laughter at his hands), he found himself stuck. Your eyes weren’t on his hands. You seemed enraptured by in his face. And when you noticed your staring was caught, your blush confused him,  shocked him, exhilarated him.

It wasn’t long before he found you after the show. It wasn’t long before he took you on a date. It wasn’t long before he captured your heart.

It was too hot. The sun glared down at you as you leaned against Jimmy’s trailer. Your mind replayed your meeting over and over as you waited for him to come back from his errand for Elsa. You closed your eyes. It was too hot to think.

But think you had to and had been doing for the past week. Ever day and every hour of those days was spent thinking. You couldn’t sleep since you got the confirmation from the doctor. 

Your period was late. At first you told yourself it was stress. You tried not to think about it. But you knew. And then the doctor said it was so and you had no other choice but to think about it.

How would Jimmy react? What would you do depending on it? You didn’t want to raise your child with the freak show. You saw how they were treated. You didn’t want it near Elsa. But this was Jimmy’s home and they were good people. But you didn’t want this life for your child. But what about what Jimmy wanted? Or didn’t.

“What’s a frown like that doing on a girl as beautiful as you?” Jimmy’s voice came from a little ways away. 

You opened your eyes to see him walking your way. He had his beautiful wide smile on his handsome face. You hoped the baby looked like him. 

As you went to push yourself off the trailer, Jimmy placed each hand firmly against the metal either side of your body, forcing you to stay in place. The space between you closed quickly as he pressed himself against you. His smile still in place as his eyes drank you in. 

“Hello, beautiful,” he said in that tone of his. The one that was all lust and cool on the outside but rang with a strong note of sweetness and affection. You loved so much about him but his soul might be your favorite thing. He couldn’t help that his core was sweet and loving.

His lips hovered over yours in a tease that he knew drove you mad with want; it was something he loved to do. His smile turned to a smug smirk. You drank in his presence. Everything from the way his breath felt across your lips to the faint smell of sweat from a hard day’s work. 

You wanted to touch him but you were so scared that if you did you’d never let go. It was easy for the two of you to get lost in each other and Jimmy seemed to never get enough of you. All it would take would be the right kiss. The right touch and he’d whisk you into his trailer. It would be so easy. 

But if you did that you’d never have the guts to tell him. You’d be too scared he’d push you from his arms afterwards. And that most of all would break your heart.

“You all right?” he asked, noticing your distinct lack of reciprocation. 

You nodded at him, seeing the bit of worry on his face disappear with an easy smile but you had to do it. You felt your face twist in with nerves and you shook your head. The small furrow between his brows came back and you knew as you closed your eyes his expression had turned fully worried now. His hands came down from the trailer and went to your hips. He held you close, confused. 

He wasn’t an idiot. You knew he’d noticed that you’d been off all week and every day you thought about telling him but didn’t. You needed to figure out the perfect way to tell him, but there wasn’t any. So, here you were. Back against his trailer in the blazing heat of Jupiter trying to tell the man you loved the scariest thing you’d ever have to say.

“You’re scaring me, baby,” he said, trying to lighten the mood with a laugh that sounded unconvincing for such a seasoned performer. You opened your eyes to take him in one last time before the news was out and couldn’t be taken back. Before everything changed. 

“I’m pregnant,” you said slowly or quickly, you weren’t sure. It was a statement. Not a question or a reply. It just was. 

Jimmy didn’t react at first. He stared, processing. Then his hands left your body and he stumbled backwards.

“Shit!” he spat. He paced a small circle. “Shit.”

You stayed frozen in place, watching him. You saw the emotions play out before you but you couldn’t understand what they meant. Jimmy wasn’t able to stand still as the news sank in. He paced. He swore. He swore some more.

“I thought you should know,” you said quietly when he finally stopped, lost in thought. He turned to look at you, his face unreadable now.

“Shit.”

“Can you say something else?” you asked, laughing at the absurdity.

“How long have you known?” 

“A week. I’ve been trying to figure out how to tell you.”

“Why now?” he asked before he turned and waved off the question, “Ah, it doesn’t matter.” He paced again before coming to an abrupt stop. “Shit!”

You steeled yourself. “Aren’t you happy?”

Jimmy froze before spinning to face you. His eyes were wide and they searched your face frantically. 

“Happy?” he asked in disbelief.

You could feel your eyes start to water. Was such a notion so far fetched that he couldn’t even fathom it? You sniffled. 

“Many men are excited to find out they’re going to become fathers,” you pointed out, trying to force the tears in your eyes back. 

Jimmy practically ran up to you and his hands grasped your shoulders. His eyes were wide and his face was almost blank with shock, his lips parted.

“You’re not upset,” he stated, noting your words. You shook your head.

“I’m having your baby. How could I be anything but overjoyed?”

“You want this?” His voice had taken on a tone of childlike hope and happiness and you couldn’t help but laugh as you nodded back your response. He let out a sign of disbelief as a smile dared to come to his lips.

He stepped back, one hand dropping to his side as another came up to push his card through his hair. He froze and you watched as he slowly brought his hand down until it was eye level. He stared at it. You saw his eyes go wide with horror as if he had forgotten about his deformity for a while. He gasped before dropping the hand and turning away from you quickly.

“Jimmy?” you asked, not understanding what was happening.

A shuddering breath came as a response and Jimmy’s hands came up to his body as he hugged himself tightly before he collapsed on the ground. You rushed to his side.

He was crying.

As you knelt beside him, his hands came to his head, cradling it. He cried harder and started to rock. You reached out and tried to turn him to face you but he flinched. Suddenly he scrambled away from you, eyes locking with yours with the most heartbreaking fear you’ve ever seen.

“Jimmy?” you asked, feeling your tears returning.

“I’m sorry, Y/N,” he whispered in a broken voice. His eyes went to your stomach, “I’m so sorry,” he cried. 

“What are you talking about? I told you I’m happy. What’s wrong? Why are you so upset. I though you - I mean you were smiling, but now - “ you sucked in a breath, shaking your head.

“It’s a curse.” He was sitting with his knees drawn up to his chest, tears still streaming down his cheeks. “A curse that I’ll have no doubt passed down. A curse I’ve put on your baby.”

“Our baby. Jimmy, it’s our baby. And there isn’t a curse.” 

You crawled over to him but he stood up quickly to get away. He walked away and you were scared he was going to leave you there. And that would be that. But he stopped. He stopped and turned. He was so scared. He was so guilty.

“You deserve to be with a normal man. Not a freak. You deserve to go on dates in public without being stared at and to get married like a normal girl. You deserve to have babies that don’t have hands like these,” he lifted his hands up and upon seeing them, fresh tears and pain erupted once more across his face. “And that baby,” he gasped a heavy breath in. “That baby.” He looked at your stomach, though you were unsure if he could see at all through his tears. “What have I done to that sweet, innocent baby.” He turned his hands raking down his face as he heaved a sob of disgust and self hatred.

You stared at him, letting his words sink in. 

“Shut up,” you said as a silence fell between you, the only noise the occasional shuddering gasp of breath from Jimmy as he tried to breath through the tears. He turned to look at you in shock. “You shut the hell up, Jimmy Darling.” Conviction was building in you and you let it guide you. “Finding out that I’m pregnant with our child is the best news I’ve ever gotten. I can’t wait to meet our child. And that’s because it means there’s part of you growing in me. There’s part of you that’s going to be with me forever. This child is the proof of our love and I love it so damn much.”

You walked over to him slowly, his facial expression unreadable once more. 

“Any child can be born with a deformity. And I know that this child probably will have your hands and that just means they’re going to be even more like their daddy. And that, is the best thing it could ever hope for. Because it’s daddy is strong, and brave, and kind, and loyal, and beautiful inside and out.”

Jimmy tried to turn his head away but you grabbed hold hold of his chin, gently keeping him facing you. 

“You are. And I love you for it. Just like I will love this baby. You won’t love it any less if it’s born with your hands or something else will you?”

“No,” he whispered. 

“No,” you smiled, tears now falling down your cheeks. “Because you’re going to be a good daddy, Jimmy. I know you are. And I am going to love that child just as much as I love you.”

Jimmy smiled. His reached out and pulled you towards him by your hips. Your foreheads rested against each other and your eyes closed. Jimmy’s breath came across your lips like before. A moment that was less than a half hour ago but feels like a lifetime ago now. 

“We’re going to have a baby,” he whispered gently, as if he had to be as careful with the words as one would be with holding a newborn itself. You smiled, nodding against his skin.

“Our baby,” you whispered and felt the puff of air from his lips as he laughed in happy disbelief.

It was only a few second later when he parted, just enough to look into your eyes. His hands were still holding your hips and your bodies were pressed close. Your arms at some point went around his shoulders, hands finding their way into his hair. You didn’t move as he looked at you. He was frowning, but this time in simple confusion.

“Why were you upset before if you’re so happy?”

You swallowed, unsure how to say it. Jimmy waited patiently. Your fingers played with the hair on the nape of his neck. Often, doing this alone was enough to work Jimmy up and distract him. But it wouldn’t work this time. You knew it, of course, but you still had to try. 

“I was scared you wouldn’t want it.” Jimmy was silent. “Me.” You didn’t meet his eyes. “Us.”

His right hand came up to cup tilt your chin up so he could see you properly. 

“How could I not want you?” he asked, and that tone of his was back. You laughed, a single hot tear streaking down your cheek. He wiped it away, a loving smile on his lips. “How could I not want this,” he said and his left hand slid from your hip to your stomach. You smiled, feeling a giddy like happiness spread across your chest with the warmth of love. Jimmy smiled down at you with love in his eyes.

“What’s going on here then?” Ethel asked as she came across the two of you still in a tight embrace, eyes wet and red with tears with love in your eyes and smiles on your lips. 

“I’m pregnant,” you yelled back with a smile and Jimmy beamed. He picked you up and twirled you around before claiming your lips hungrily in a passionate kiss.

“Shit,” Ethel said as the news soaked in. 

You laughed into Jimmy’s mouth as he held you close, refusing to end the kiss just yet.

[amoralto]

What do you think about the upcoming new Let It Be movie?

My thoughtful (if disorganised and near-hysterical) answer: I remain cautiously ambivalent. In a way I feel the same I’ve felt about the recent Super Deluxe Edition releases, where I am “happied” by whatever I can get, very much so, but I’m also exasperated in a pathetically hand-wringing fannish way that the estate is still trickling out outtakes in unbearably curated fashion as accessories to new mixes, when all I’ve ever really wanted is for them to release comprehensive collections of their session recordings - every take, every flub, every silly piece of silly studio chatter, everything. (Roll it out album by album, sell every volume in a fancy multi-disc box set for a small fortune, I don’t care, I’m willing to pay for it, and I expect many others would be too.) But alas! They haven’t, and they don’t look like they will in the near future, and so I can’t bring myself to hope for much with the Let It Be film either.

And especially not with Let It Be, by virtue of its medium, as a manipulated assemblage of curated footage, edited and cut and spliced together, in leading and misleading and distorted ways. (As all documentaries arguably are.) Even with the footage run through a supposedly more gracious filter, it will still be just that - filtered, reassembled, recut, and still an (in)effectively incomplete picture, inevitably subject to the confirmation biases and various lazy/shallow/poisonous interpretations rife in mainstream music journalism.

Which just has me wringing my hands with even more, not only because these sessions have been a bit of a preoccupation of mine for a while so I’m even more of an invested headcase than usual, but because the Get Back/Let It Be sessions arguably deserves the most reexamination in its greater perspective, and certainly the most correction and care. And it’s probably not going to get it, or at least not nearly enough. And of course I understand it has to be this way - the general public won’t be interested in going through 55~ hours of video recordings and 140~ hours of audio recordings (which means there are still at least 40-50 more hours of unreleased tapes than what has been leaked and circulated on bootleg for decades), and the logistics of mass-releasing such an enormous amount of material is laughable. But as I said, I am a headcase about this, and where the general public and even the general fans may take this new recut version of the film on some measure of faith, I probably won’t be able to bring myself to. 

Also, every time I can stomach to take a tentative browse of mainstream music journalism or certain major music discussion forums and the narrow, cynical, simplistic narratives that are still being perpetuated about the Beatles in general and these sessions in particular, I find myself sadly resigned to the reality that many people’s minds may never be expanded or changed, no matter how the film is cut, or how the sessions are framed. If there’s “too much” inclusion of jokes and jollity and the fun the band really did have, it’ll trigger complaints of “whitewashing”, all the blame of which will almost certainly be placed upon “shrew-like control freak historical revisionist” Paul. If there’s any inclusion at all of previously-unseen tension or argumentative exchanges (which are really just ultimately sad attempts to relate and communicate emotionally with each other), it’ll only reinforce the absolutist perceptions held by some people of the sessions being wholly disastrous and wholly awful with no “real” joy and jollity anywhere, not to mention their perceptions of, well, “shrew-like control freak historical revisionist” Paul.

Basically, the very reframing, the very act of recutting of the film in and of itself, will be (and already is) seen by many people as a rewriting of history. Which is sad and silly, because in this case the history should be rewritten; it’s just that however well it’s written, it’s still at the mercy of being read, and how, and by who.

(Insert tangential essay/foaming rant here about how/why people insist on interpreting the Beatles and their dynamics through the shlocky paradigm of the Stereotypical Rock Band when they don’t remotely fit the archetypes, and hey, have you ever considered that humans and also human relationships are tangled and complex? And that humans are capable of resenting and loving each other at the same time? And that maybe a lot of the things John “I Said That But I Was Lying” Lennon has said should never be taken literally or at face value or as nothing but the timeless truth? Etc.)

All that being said, I will, as noted at the start, take whatever I do get. Remastered HD footage is just a nice thing to have, for one, and I’d be overjoyed to see video footage of some of the session audio I’ve clipped and transcribed in the past, if any of it even makes it into the final film. (Anything from January 13th especially and hell, the 24th and 25th too, but now I really am hoping for too much at this point. Now that I think of it, I should probably motivate myself to clip and transcribe more interesting bits and pieces from the sessions, in the lead up to the release of the film.)

My glib unserious (haha, unless...?) answer: Damn it, Peter Jackson, you took my job. 😭

[oliverwxod]

Bodyguard - Steve Rogers au

Pairing: Steve Rogers x reader

Warnings: angst, swearing, smut

Summary: I’ve done a whole bodyguard au for Bucky thought It was time to do one for Steve :) hope you like it, comments and reblog and likes always appreciated! Also its not fully edited yet so theres probably some grammar mistakes sorry!! Also let me know if you want a part 2!!!!!!

Main masterlist link in bio xx

Tony was barely around much these days, in fact Y/n can’t remember the last time Tony was around for more than an hour tops. She thinks back to her teenage years and how Tony had started to withdraw from her, maybe he thought it would make her independent? and sure it did. But she often found herself feeling neglected. 

She still needed a figure in her life to look up to. So far she had been left to work out certain meanings of life by herself. It was hard, being exposed to so many things with no one to talk to or confide in. 

She longed for someone to come into her life, she craved a certain form of attention. At this point it could have been anyone, a house keeper who she could talk to during the day, a pool cleaner to chat to and fill the loneliness that overtook her daily routine.

In Y/n’s case, this person came in the form of a 6ft2 man named Steve Rogers, who had the form of a god and muscles that stood out through his tight t-shirt. 

It was a rare moment where she got to see a glimpse of Tony. He had interrupted her daily routine of reading a book to kill some time, with a sharp knock on the door. 

Y/n remembers answering it, slightly taken aback when she opened the door widely to reveal Tony and a taller, intimidatingly handsome man who stood beside him with a polite smile. 

“Y/n.” Tony greeted a small, formal smile on his face that Y/n remembers hating. It wasn’t a smile reserved for loved ones, it was a smile reserved for colleagues and she dreaded receiving it. 

“Dad” She spoke back, making sure her tone matched his. “Whose this?” she asked, smiling politely at Steve.

“Steve Rogers” Tony replied. “The company had been receiving some threats recently and I've been advised to increase security, so Steve here will be your new bodyguard” He stated, meeting her eyes as if knowing she would challenge him about it. 

She met his stare, wanting to prove him wrong by silently nodding in agreement. This was typical Tony, making a couple bad choices without giving a thought to the consequences that followed. 

“Good.” Tony voiced when there was no objection, just a silent stare. “Steve, this is my daughter y/n.”

“It’s nice to meet you” Steve said politely and Y/n could tell that although he had manners, he wasn’t overjoyed at having to babysit a 20 something year old, that he probably labeled a rich spoilt kid.

“Y/n, Steve will also be teaching you self defence just as a precaution” 

Y/n huffed at the idea. She had never wanted to be involved in any physical kind of violence so never thought it important to learn self defence skills. She supposed it couldn’t hurt. 

But she was wrong. 

Steve had her up the next day at the crack of dawn. She was woken up by a loud series of knocks on her bedroom door that she couldn’t ignore and go back to sleep. 

She trudged over, ripping the door open angrily to come face to face with Steve. He was dressed in work out gear, a bottle of water hanging loosely form his hand. 

“You ready to go?” he asked, his smile dropping as he took in her angry appearance. “Ah- you're not dressed” he spoke frowning. 

“It’s 6.” He spoke as if it were to mean anything to her. At her confused scowl he clarified. “Tony said he messaged you the time for self defence training, but obviously you didn’t receive that”

“You think?” she glared up at him, wanting to smack the small smirk he now held. 

“Right. Well, meet me in the gym in 10.” He stated rather than asked, before turning around and walking down the hallway leaving Y/n to glare daggers into his back, her eyes tracing over the perfect form of his shoulders and admiring how the tight fitting grey gym shirt clung to every one of his muscles. 

Y/n met him in the gym 15 minutes later having haphazardly throwing on a pair of yoga pants and a sports bra. She had no problem showing some skin to a near stranger. 

“You’re late” he spoke. 

“Yeah? well it’s to early for this shit anyway” she grumbled, causing him to laugh. She stared at him, wanting to see if he would check her out, but Steve seemed to be paying no mind to her. 

“Lets get this over with” she spoke, moving over to the mat in the middle of the deserted gym. 

“we will start with the basics first” Steve spoke following her over. “firstly, the best self defence is prevention...” 

“yeah yeah- I know.. always carry your keys with you, always park in lit areas with CCTV ... blah blah blah” she said rolling her eyes. She had been told it many times. 

“Right, good then.” Steve nodded. “Now where do you think the most effective places to hit an attacker in are?” he asked. 

Y/n smirked slightly, taking two steps towards Steve and invading his personal space. 

“the eyes” she spoke, meeting his stare, he watched her back, waiting for her next move, intrigued. “the nose” she said, lifting a finger to flick him on the nose, laughing as he flinched. 

“The neck” she said, trailing her fingers down the side of his neck, watching as he took a deep breath in, swallowing. “The shins” she said, her foot lifting to brush past his bare shins. 

Steve watched her, waiting to see if she would really go this far. 

“and...” her eyes met his before flicking down his body, trailing down to his crotch where she bit her lip, purposefully. She knew he was watching her. 

“okay yeah-” he spoke, taking a step away from her flustered. “good, so you know the gist” 

Y/n silently laughed to herself. 

“Lets start with how to bring someone down to their knees” Steve spoke, his eyes widening as he realised what he had just said, he didn’t mean for it to sound so dirty.

“don’t need to ask me twice” she spoke smirking. Steve flushed at her comment, turning around to compose himself. She was just teasing; he told himself. She had nothing better to do in her life than try to make someone else hell, it was the same with all rich people he thought. 

“the knee is vulnerable from almost every angle and for everyone.” he spoke, acting as if she had said nothing. “You want to kick with power to injure and incapacitate the attacker. Turn around” he spoke, his voice holding a certain authority to it that Y/n immediately found herself complying to. 

“I’m going to attack from behind” he spoke “then you need to show me how you would fight back, but going for the knees, don’t actually kick though” he instructed. 

Y/n was facing away from him, steadying her breathing as she could hear him moving closer. Suddenly his arms were around her, locking her in a strong grip, she could feel his muscles contract around her, his strength easily holding her. 

Y/n straggled momentarily in his arms before remembering to go for the knees. She managed to release his grip, turning slightly to be able to free a foot and bring it up to push on his knee in what would be a kick if she were actually being attacked. 

“Okay” Steve spoke “that was good. Just don’t kick too high, as the attacker can grab hold of your ankle” he spoke, demonstrating by wrapping one hand around her whole ankle and tugging gently. It was enough to pull her down, finding herself hitting the mat with a small thud. 

He taught her more basic techniques for the next hour until she found herself worn out and wanting nothing more than a cup of iced coffee to drown her thoughts out and boost her motivation. 

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

Steve knocked on her door every morning at 6. At first it had been annoying but now she was up 5 minutes before, already changed and ready for when he knocked. 

“Hi” she spoke. Opening the door to reveal the bodyguard standing tall, a pair of grey sweatpants and a black tight fitting shirt, stretching across his broad shoulders. 

“Ready?” he asked and she nodded, following him down the hallway to the gym. 

Steve had seemingly become quite a challenge. She was persistent in her comments that made him flush red, but he either ignored them or laughed them off. It was becoming frustrating and Y/n was very frustrated. 

She had made it so clear that she wanted him. But she knew Steve saw her as this attention seeking kid who was spoilt and didn’t like not getting her own way. 

It was obvious in one of his comments the other week. Steve had accidentally ripped her favourite gym top while teaching her a move. She had complained, glaring at hime and pouting, and she heard him mumble under his breath that she could afford a hundred more. 

Her work out gear was becoming increasingly less modest, thinking that if she made it clear she wanted him, that he would want her too. A sports bra and a pair of short yoga shorts the only thing cladding her body. Steve knew what she was doing. She wanted his attention, but he wasn't going to give her it, he was keeping this purely professional. 

He got a kick out of how submissive she was to him. Obeying his every rule and listening intently to what he had to say to her to help her improve. 

Steve had Y/n sparring with him, she was intent on bringing him to the ground just to prove that she was strong enough. But it ended up with Steve slamming her into the mat, making her groan heavily while he hovered over her. 

She looked up to meet his eyes, pouting at how unfair it was. 

“that wasn’t fair” she huffed.

“Life isn’t fair sweetheart” he spoke, smirking. 

Y/n shoved him off her, Steve hitting the ground with a small thud beside her as she switched position, straddling Steve now. His hands moved to her waist, squeezing the skin slightly as she leaned down towards him. She was going to kiss him, it was obvious t her and it was obvious to Steve who freaked out and rolled her off him. 

She scrambled up from the mat inn surprise avoiding his eyes, too embarrassed to look at him after the rejection and the literal pushing away. 

After that training session she made it very difficult for Steve. Her comments were becoming increasingly more effective and her small touches and brushes of her hand against some part of his body was becoming parts of his day that he craved the most. 

Steve had pushed her down into an accidentally compromising position, his hands shoving her shoulders so she was on her knees, her face in line with his crotch. She had been particularly infuriating the past few days. Just last night at Tony and Peppers work party, she had spent the night at the bar drinking, Steve beside her doing his job as her bodyguard. She was talking about all the people she had slept with, telling him stories about each one the more she drank. 

Steve wasn’t sure what he was supposed to do with that information but he didn’t want to upset her so stayed quite, listening to her talk a load of shit that she probably didn’t remember. 

She had asked him questions to; what his first time was like, his best partner in bed; whether he had been in love before. 

All in which he responded to with the same persons names. Peggy. She forced the information out of him and he had told her how Peggy was the true love of his life. Steve though Y/n would tease him about it, bu she surprised him, listening intently and nodding, a sad smile on her face as she told him that his story was beautifully heartbreaking. 

“ you know, if you wanted me to suck your dick you could have just asked” she spoke, looking up at him with the most innocent looking eyes and smile. 

Steve gritted his teeth as he looked down at her, the sight enough to make all the blood rush to his groin. This was it; he was giving in. 

“Go on then.” he challenged. Steve was curious if she was all talk and no show or if she was serious. 

She looked surprised, hesitant almost as she met his stare back. His expression didn’t falter, his jaw clenched as he waited for her to make a move. 

When she saw he wasn’t joking Steve nearly laughed as her eyes lit up, hands reaching forward to fumble with the drawstrings of his sweats. 

She wasted no time pushing them down past his hips, his boxers along with them, allowing his dick to spring free, her eyes widening at the size. 

“Holyshit” she mumbled, Steve smirking as he watched her curiosity, one of her hands gripping him and causing him to buck his hips forward. 

“Jesus” he mumbled under his breath, staring as her hand moved, tightening before moving up and down in slow strokes. She was teasing him and enjoying every second. 

“don’t tease me” he spoke. 

“Or what?” she challenged. 

“Just get on with it” he moaned as her hand tightened around him again. “ before someone walks in” 

She shrugged, moving closer on her knees as she finally took him into her mouth, humming once she took him all the way down her throat. 

Steve swore several times under his breath, he hadn’t let himself have this kind of relief for months now and this moment of weakness was him giving in. He had told himself after Peggy left him, that there would never be another girl for him. 

Y/n hollowed her cheeks out, her mouth wet and tight around him as his hand found its way to her hair, his grip rough as he held her closer, urging her to take as much of him into her mouth as possible. 

He closed his eyes in pleasure as he hit the back of her throat, the feeling of her gagging around him making him lose control instantly, releasing into her mouth and watching as she took it without complaint. Always the submissive- he thought. 

Y/n pulled away, wiping her mouth with her hand before standing up, meeting his eyes briefly before glancing away as he pulled up his sweats.  

She went to speak but the doors to the gym squeaked open as a couple people walked in. 

They went back to their training session as if nothing had ever happened.

The next day she turned up to training quieter than normal. She silently obeyed every instruction he gave her and she made no comments or extra intentional touches to his body. He had been frowning the whole session trying to work out what was wrong, but she gave absolutely nothing away. Only occasionally giving him a small smile when he praised her for doing something right. 

It was like it the next day and the following after that. She listened to him intently and didn’t make any unnecessary conversations. Her undivided attention solely on learning. 

She had been thinking about everything the past few days. She had gotten what she had wanted, but it felt worse than before. She thought it would fill the loneliness that she held in her heart, but it was only temporary. Y/n had remembered that Steve didn’t actually care about her. He was paid to act like it and babysit her.

Steve hadn’t brought that day in the gym up once and she was glad. She didn’t want him to rub it in her face how it meant nothing, or listen to him tell her it was a mistake and could never happen again. 

“whats up?” Steve asked, holding still the punching bag that Y/n had been hitting before she let out a sigh, her shoulders sagging as she gave up. 

“have no energy left” she spoke. Steve walked over to her, lifting both her wrists up and making her flinch away from the contact of his skin on hers. 

“I'm just taking the gloves off” he said frowning at her reaction. She let him, watching him as he lifted her hands one by one and pulling the gloves off gently. 

“It’s more than that” he spoke knowingly, starting to unravel the wraps around her hands. 

“It’s personal” she said quietly. Steve got the message clear. She was wedging the professionalism between them, as if they hadn’t already crossed that line. 

“You can tell me” he said “I’ll listen” 

“yeah. That’s the thing” she mumbled. 

“what do you mean by that?” he asked, genuinely sounding concerned. She couldn’t tell if it was fake or not. 

“ you’ll listen, but you won’t care” she shrugged.

“I’ll care” he spoke frowning as she turned to walk away towards the gyms exit. Passing along rows of Stark employees on their lunch break work outs.

He followed her out of the gym and into the hallway to her quarters. 

“Y/n” he spoke catching up to her “I will care.” he said softly “I do care. Trust me... please” 

TAGS:

Forever Tags: @dreambigbeawesome @hellosafie @linheliano @thisismysecrethappyplace @mannls @1elboomdemsechevarria @myrabbitholetoneverland @jbarnes87 @permanent-lines @alyssaj23 @piensa-bonito @maresmiley @soldierplum @jjsoccer11 @les-bio-lie @dewy-biitch @despelllestrange @unlikelygalaxygiver @hiddles-rose @httpmcrvel @breezy1415 @artisticlales @imthegirlyourparentswarnedyouof @xinyourdreamsx @stevieboyharrington @maladaptive-ninja-returns @teenwolfbitches2 @harryngtonewithyourshit @strangersstranger @sthorkronstrangy

Steve Rogers: @patzammit

[smallblueandloud]

thoughts on episode ii

subtitled let’s fix attack of the clones!!: anakin edition

i came out of this movie really not shipping anakin and padme. he is selfish, awkward, and distracting - and she should too busy to consider a romance.

the prequels are trying to tell two stories (anakin’s fall and the fall of the republic) and it barely tries to link them, instead just spending time on the boring, clunky one (anakin) at the expense of the more interesting one (the republic/the clones, represented in this movie by obi-wan), which seems like it’s missing vital conversations.

but this post is about anakin and anakin/padme. so let’s get started.

this movie, at least in terms of anakin’s development, suffers from middle-of-trilogy syndrome. nothing really happens. his mother dies (oh my GOD) and he angsts about it for a while, commits mass murder, and then jumps right back to pursuing his terrible “romance” with padme.

i mean, there are NO lasting effects of his mother’s death. he learns no coping techniques, feels no real emotions about it...

shmi was done dirty in general though. the idea of her marrying the guy that bought her is pretty icky. i’m becoming more and more fond of fialleril’s headcanon that shmi meets beru and adopts her as her daughter. cliegg is nothing but owen’s offscreen father.

i mean, that would’ve been SO MUCH BETTER, even if you keep the whole shmi-dying-solely-to-cause-her-idiot-son-pain. WHICH YOU SHOULD NOT. why spend all of episode i talking about freeing the slaves and then do absolutely nothing about it??

picture shmi, her adoptive daughter beru, and her adoptive daughter’s boyfriend owen (who really isn’t sure how he got involved in this but isn’t complaining) running an underground slave-freeing operation.

not sure how this would tie into the movie, plot-wise or anakin-development-wise, because yeah, you do need to start getting nervous around this kid. (I MEAN, IN MY PLAN FOR THE PHANTOM MENACE, YOU WOULD’VE STARTED THIS IN THE VERY BEGINNING BY USING A SLIGHTLY WORRYINGLY COMPETENT AND BRUTAL 14-YEAR-OLD, NOT THE PREPUBESCENT NONSENSE WE GOT. but regardless.)

i guess you’d need anakin and padme to be hanging at on naboo, in her lake house (god padme’s so freaking bougie), and padme asks how anakin’s mom is.

queue the obligatory “oh, haha, i don’t actually,,,, know??”

padme proposes that since they have no duties and she’s actually bored out of her mind, they should go visit shmi. anakin protests for about two seconds before realizing a) there’s no stopping her, and b) he’d actually kinda like to see his mom.

(padme has some ulterior motives besides wanting anakin to see his goddamn mom again. she wants to buy her freedom, since she’s actually prepared with real funds this time, and she wants to ask her advice on helping out with abolition, since she and sabe had failed miserably when they tried on their own. [this is canon, go read queen’s shadow if you haven’t already because it’s an excellent book.] we love women acknowledging other women’s expertise!! padme has grown a lot and wants to stop being so core world-y.)

so anyways, they go there, meet shmi (who’s already freed herself, thanks so much), and beru and owen. anakin, because he has had no emotional support network since he was nine goddamn years old, is jealous, but does his best to keep it under wraps.

at some point, while anakin and padme are helping out with the freedom trail, and someone (not sure who) gets a little violent with shmi.

anakin... goes ballistic, we’ll say. it gets violent. he gets harsh. it’s an overreaction, but shmi manages to calm him down.

(padme, on the other hand, is frightened. she takes a step back the next time anakin turns to her. but she manages to hold it down until later.)

the flighty escapee that beru is operating on goes into hysterics. shmi pulls anakin outside and tells him, quietly, that she’s so overjoyed to see him but that she thinks he needs to be getting on his way.

padme, meanwhile, gets pinged on her communication device. obi-wan has contacted them, just like he did in canon.

also, there’s some kind of beru&anakin moment, or maybe a beru&padme moment. just a conversation of some kind, for uber talented gifset-makers to gif and put alongside beru talking to luke so i can be destroyed emotionally.

this serves several purposes.

the movie feels more emotionally coherent. anakin doesn’t jump from awkward flirting to mass murder to making out with his girlfriend.

shmi gets some closure.

we’re introduced to beru, who clearly meets anakin and padme.

we get to see the little people making a difference, which is a huge theme in star wars. this can act as a foil to the hugely ineffective senate.

padme gets the opportunity for some character growth (she’s my wife and all but she’s so bougie).

we get to see anakin be dark, over something.... sorta understandable?? and it doesn’t quite make us think he should be locked up (unlike murder) (except the movie says it’s okay because they’re just sand people and i really don’t like the implications of that). also, we can see the inherent tragedy of someone who needs so much community support being “”chosen”” by the force to go into an order of emotionally private individuals (not that that isn’t a bad thing for someone like obi-wan, but it really isn’t good for anakin).

AND I HAVEN’T EVEN REALLY MENTIONED PADME. i have a wishlist for padme, and it boils down to: at least mention her relationship with sabe, show her being good at politics, let her have character development, don’t make her have to mother anakin, and oh by the way make her two-dimensional enough that her abandoning her ideals to get together with a jedi actually makes sense.

because like! i can believe she likes anakin! he’s an old friend, from a time that seems simpler in hindsight, and he’s in love with her and flirts awkwardly and makes jokes. i mean, the dialogue makes it impossible for anakin to seem remotely attractive, but we’ll leave it at the fact that padme desperately wants something simple and a relationship with anakin, paradoxically, looks like a winner.

but i want to see her like anakin. show, not tell, georgie boy!! all we see in the movie is her giggling at him and her rejecting him, and then her kissing him, and there’s really no falling in love.

because okay. they’re a fundamentally doomed relationship, total opposites who are both startlingly naive wrt their personal lives. so i accept that they’re not really in love - they’re just clinging to ideals of each other. well. at least padme is. she’s smart enough to recognize what she’s doing, but she pushes it down because she is forced to hold too much on her shoulders (BECAUSE THE SENATE DOESN’T WORK) and she needs something that is just for her.

look, i really need sabe in these movies, okay. this is unrelated to my humongous crush on keira knightley. i need padme to have a friend, someone she can express this to, who can look at her doubtfully when she says she’s in love with anakin, because we really need to drive in the idea of this being a tragedy and we can’t see it unless we see how goddamn foolish even padme “good choices” amidala is being.

also like. padme needs friends. and i firmly believe that the “mother” that leia remembers was sabe, who is actively involved in the rebellion during the OT. because like. i have emotions, and most of them come back to luke&leia.

i’m not sure i’d have them get married, but that’s just a matter of taste. and you have to admit the set of final shots - the victory with the clones, baby boba pressing his forehead to his dad’s helmet, the marriage - with the overlaid music is really something. i mean, there you have the myth stuff that george wanted. i vibe with it.

anyways. thank you for coming to my ted talk, part the second.

[artificialqueens]

The Ballerina and the B-girl Part 10 (Branjie) - Starsha

a/n: Welcome to the ‘meet the parents’ edition of the Ballerina and the B-girl lesbian AU. Please read the tags as there is both explicit homophobia and racism in this chapter, so if that is triggering for anyone please don’t read the second half of the fic (Brooke’s family- the start of the section is clearly indicated)

— First up is Vanjie’s family — It was 6 months into her relationship with Brooklyn when Vanjie booked a trip home to Tampa to see her family. She was bringing Brooke to meet them and she was simultaneously incredibly excited and nervous. The same could be said for the blonde next to her in the Uber they had taken from their hotel to Vanjie’s mum’s humble house on the outskirts of the city. Brooke was always professional, poised and confident on the outside, but on the inside she was freaking out. Vanessa was her first girlfriend, and hence this was her first ‘meet the family’ and she really didn’t want to fuck it up.

The car pulled up and the couple got out, Vanessa lacing their fingers together as they walked up to the front door and knocked. The door swung open to reveal a woman even shorter than Vanjie, but with very similar facial features and the same infectious smile.

“Ah mi bebe is here!“ she screeched with a thick accent and launching to give Vanjie a hug.

“Hi Mami I missed you” Vanessa replies excitedly before breaking the hug and putting her arm around Brooke’s waist and introducing her.

“Mami this is my girlfriend Brooklyn. Isn’t she beautiful?” Vanjie stated proudly.

“Very very beautiful, the most beautiful” Mrs. Mateo mused, pulling Brooke into a hug. Brooke returned it, settling comfortably into her girlfriend’s mother’s arms. All of her fear and apprehension about not being accepted, stemming from her own family experiences no doubt, being stripped away by the gentleness of this woman.

“I’m so glad to meet you Mrs Mateo” Brooklyn gushed as the hug was broken, and Vanessa’s mother replied with a smile, “Please call me Rosa, you are family now”.

Brooke’s heart felt as though it was going to burst as she followed Rosa into the house, her arm wrapped around Vanessa’s waist. She tried to convey with touch to her girlfriend just how incredible her mother was for being so accepting and how thankful Brooke was. Brooke couldn’t help but think about how her mother would react in comparison.

They entered a kitchen where two men stood talking at the bench with beers in their hands. Upon the couples arrival they turned around and Brooke immediately saw the resemblance between them and Vanessa, inferencing that they must be her brothers.

They both looked Brooke up and down wide wide eyes.

“Holy shi-, this is your girlfriend Vanj?” one of them questioned with a stunned smile.

“Uh huh Marco this is Brooke, baby these are my brothers Marco and Fabian” Vanessa did the introductions.

“Damnnn our sister has game, you’re bloody gorgeous! Tall, white, exactly her type” The other brother stated bluntly, in a style so similar to Vanjie that had Brooke grinning widely.

“She sure does” Brooke answered, pecking Vanjie on the lips and making her brothers holler in support, her mother smiling on contently. This was so new to Brooke, Vanessa’s family had welcomed her with open arms and seemed overjoyed that she was in Vanjie’s life. It was stark contrast to how Brooke was sure ‘meet the family’ was going to go with her own.

They stayed at the house until late into the night. Vanjie’s family took an adoration to Brooklyn and she couldn’t be more pleased. They didn’t dwell on what she did for a living, more interested in her ballet and the vacation to the Bahamas that the couple had planned with Silky and Akeria, as well as Brooke’s friends Nina and Yvie. Vanjie’s brothers were protective yet so impressed with the woman that their sister was dating that they immediately became friends with the blonde, embarrassing Vanjie with stories from childhood wherever they could.

“Remember the time that Vanessa got her head stuck between the stair railings when she was-“ Vanjie cut Marco off with a stressed, “Oh wow it’s late we’d better get going babe”.

Brooke giggled at her girlfriends embarrassment, progressing to a laugh when Marco mouthed “Fourteen” at her with a wink. They said their goodbyes and planned to spend the next day at the beach together, Brooke fitting into the family dynamic like a perfect missing puzzle piece.

—Second up is Brooke’s family —

Vanessa knew very well that her girlfriend didn’t really have the best relationship with her family in Canada. They sent cards to the house on her birthday and Christmas, and she did the same but that seemed to be the be all and end all of communication. Occasionally she would get a phone call to congratulate her on business affairs, the most recent being when Brooke was featured in Forbes magazine as one of the most successful female CEOs in the country.

Vanjie knew for a fact that Brooke hadn’t seen her family in person in the two years they had been dating, and probably not for a while before then. Brooke had told her family that she was dating someone but not really any other details, which Vanjie understood. She couldn’t imagine being in Brooke’s shoes and having a family that was totally dismissive of her sexuality. Hence she was surprised when one day, Brooke declared over dinner that they would be going to visit her parents in Toronto.

“What’s brought this on babe?” Vanessa asked, serving herself another portion of the pasta salad Brooke had made.

“It just hit me on our anniversary that you have been a huge part of my life for two whole years, and yet my family knows nothing other than I’m dating someone. I’m ready to face the music Vanj, come what May and hell to pay”

Vanessa laughed at her girlfriends dramatics, but knew beneath the humour lay some very deep feelings Brooke had about her family’s rejection of her love life. Vanjie knew it hurt her, especially when they hung out with her family who had adopted Brooke as one of their own. Vanjie knew that Brooke wished that her parents could be like that. As mad as it made Vanjie that Brooke’s parents had hurt her, that just made her more eager to meet them and change their perception.

“Just warning you again babe, there is a strong possibility that my parents have lulled themselves into thinking that you are a man and I’m sorry for whatever their reaction might be” Brooke repeated for the 10th time that day as the couple approached her parents front door. They had elected not to hold hands to ease Brooke’s parents into their relationship status. They knocked and awaited what was certain to be an interesting first impression.

The door opened to reveal an older woman, not quite as tall as Brooke but still towering over Vanjie. Vanessa could immediately see the resemblance, with the defined bone structure and fair hair this had to be Brooke’s mother. The woman took Brooke into her arms without saying a word and held her for a minute. It was clear to see this woman loved her daughter, that she had missed her. The hug ended and she stepped back to look from Brooke to Vanjie and back to Brooke again with a confused expression. Vanjie immediately felt self conscious, feeling the judgement deep inside. She knew she looked appropriate and presentable, wearing an expensive high necked white dress ending just above the knee that Brooke had bought for her, but she was still worried.

Brooke took a stand, reaching down and lacing her fingers with Vanessa’s, the expression on her mothers face turning from confusion to pure disappointment. Brooke had warned her of this, but it still stung Vanessa to think that it was disappointing to her girlfriends mother that she was a woman.

“Mom, this is my girlfriend Vanessa” Brooke stated confidently, however Vanjie could feel her shaking. Brooke’s mother just stared blankly at the couple, as if her mind was having a rigorous debate with itself. She visibly forced a smile, but it was a smile all the same.

“It is nice to meet you Vanessa. Please come in”

Vanjie all but clung to Brooke as they made their way into the house, she had never felt more uncertain and as though she didn’t belong in her life. Brooke’s mother made small talk about the weather and their flight, which both women were grateful for. It was when they entered the kitchen that the shit really hit the fan.

There were two very tall men before them standing at the kitchen bench, one Brooke’s father and the other Vanjie assumed to be her brother. They immediately intimidated Vanjie just from their height alone, but the look of distain the pair shot them as they saw their linked hands had her instinctually press into Brooke’s side. This probably made the impending situation worse, but Brooke wrapped a protective arm around her waist and took a small step in front of her which was slightly comforting to the short brunette in a room of tall unaccepting people. Her brother screwed up his face in apparent disgust, whilst her father broke the silence.

“For the love of God, Brooklyn. I thought at 34 you would be past this ridiculous phase of yours. How dare you disappoint us like this, your poor mother! She has been talking about today with her friends for weeks, so excited that you were going to finally bring a man home to meet us. And here you are, with this” he spat, shooting a glare that could melt steel at Brooke and Vanessa. His words stung Vanjie more than any other homophobes’ ever had, because this was the love of her life’s father. Brooke was shaking and all Vanessa could do was wrap her arm around to rest on her lower back and rub it to soothe her.

She may have been shaking, but Ms Brooklyn Hytes was not someone that took shit from anyone, especially when it came to her girlfriend, and so Vanjie wasn’t surprised when she stood up for herself and clapped back at her fathers cruel words.

“Pretty hard to call my sexual orientation a phase when I’m 34, and have never had any interest in men whatsoever. If bringing my girlfriend of TWO YEARS home to meet you isn’t enough of an indicator that I’m never going to be the perfect straight daughter you wish I was, then I don’t know what is. I’m sorry that my ‘lifestyle’ is an inconvenience to your social lives, and that you can boast of my career successes with gusto yet ignore a huge and important part of my life because it doesn’t fit with your fantasy for me”

Brooke’s fathers face was fuming, and her brother decided that this was his time to input his opinion into the conversation.

“I honestly think it’s disgusting that you’d bring this…” his face paused as if looking for the last offensive word he could, “…partner of yours to our family home. You’re selfish Brooke, you’re only thinking of yourself flashing your sinful lifestyle in our faces”

Vanessa’s spare hand balled into a fist, she wanted so bad to punch Brooke’s brother. Brooke calmly wrapped her arm around Vanessa tighter, and answered from her heart as if trying to reach some part inside her family that could see reason.

“It really doesn’t matter what you all think, I love Vanessa. I love her with all my heart and I’m bringing her to meet you because she is a special part of my life that I wanted to share with you. I hope that one day you might accept me for who I am, but for now, can’t you just be civil and polite as you would to any of your other children’s partners”

Brooklyn’s dad was taken aback at that. He stood for a minute in thought, her brother looking between him and the couple. He took a deep breath before giving his verdict.

“You are right Brooklyn. You deserve for us to at least respect that this is your reality, as much as we do not agree”.

Brooklyn’s brother looked stunned with disbelief and voiced some expletives and slurs before exiting the room. The others sat down at the table, and for the next couple of hours over afternoon tea both parents made an effort to get to know Vanessa. And naturally, as they opened their minds, they both found themselves falling in love with her charisma and personality. She sure as hell could charm the shit out of people when she wanted to.

Brooke’s father pulled her to the side as Vanjie helped Brooke’s mum wash up the glasses in the kitchen.

“She’s a good one, I’m proud of your choice Brooklyn” he said, Brooke’s face lighting up in a smile at his approval. “I know that I am not the most accepting father, and that I have a long way to go. But this girlfriend of yours is everything I could have ever hoped a child of mine would find in a partner, I can see how happy she makes you. And at the end of the day, if my daughter is happy that is all that matters most to me”

Brooke couldn’t help herself, she pulled her father into a tight hug and stifled the tears that threatened to flow over. Vanessa came to her side and her father embraced her in a hug, affirming that he had meant what he said. It was true that her parents had a long way to go before they were waving rainbow flags at pride, but Brooke was grateful that they accepted Vanessa into the family as equal to any of her siblings’ partners.

The next day, Brooke and Vanessa were over at her parents for lunch. Brooke’s mother had taken an adoration to Vanessa, so the two were merrily preparing lunch in the kitchen together whilst Brooke helped her father out with some paperwork that he was confused about. Brooke was so happy to be rebuilding her relationship with her parents, but her brother proved to be an ongoing problem when he arrived with his girlfriend.

He took one look at Vanessa in the kitchen with his mother and lost his shit.

“Mother, what is she doing here?” He spat. Vanjie’s eyes darted around looking for Brooklyn, but came up empty. To her surprise, Brooke’s mother stood up for her.

“She’s here because she is being an amazing future daughter in law and helping me make lunch” she said bluntly, smiling sweetly at Vanessa. Vanjie couldn’t believe it, the reference to the woman’s acceptance of her possibly marrying Brooke one day made her heart flutter.

Brooke’s brother on the other hand looked furious and disbelieving, “Future daughter in law?! Mother you can’t be serious! This woman is nothing more than a hot piece of ass that Brooklyn is using to fulfill her sick sexual desires. Besides she’s probably just doing it with Brooklyn for her money, there’s no way a little wetback like her is just with a CEO out of love. There’s no such thing as homosexual love anyways, it’s purely a disgusting lust”

Vanjie was dumbfounded at his blatant homophobia and racism, and was about to go off in offence but Brooklyn beat her to it. The blonde came bursting through the kitchen door, having heard everything. She had her angry boss demeanour on, which terrified even the most macho of men. She faced up against her brother, and although he had a few inches on her it was as though he was 3 feet tall.

“It is absolutely unacceptable for you totreat my girlfriend that way, like she’s not here, like she’s nothing, like she’s some sort of criminal! She is with me, has been longer than your girl has been with you, and so she is part of this family! I will not have you blatantly disrespecting her and our relationship! And just for your information you have not talked to me since I came out other than to ask for money, whilst Vanessa hasn’t asked for a damn cent. I think you should look at yourself before accusing others of being freeloaders Ben!”

Her brother stood frozen in place, tears of rage and embarrassment in his eyes. He averted his gaze and swallowed hard.

“That is enough Brooklyn” Brooke’s mother pleaded, not liking seeing her children fight. However, she was appalled by what her son had said about the small, sweetheart of a girl that stood at her side trembling, so she took Vanessa’s hand and gave it a reassuring squeeze. “Apologise to Vanessa please Benjamin” she requested, and his face shot up in shock at that, “She has done nothing but be helpful and make your sister the happiest I have ever seen her, so you should make an effort to make amends”.

His face contorted with discomfort, looking at Vanjie sheepishly. She sassily raised an eyebrow as he forced out an apology. “I’m sorry Vanessa for how I treated you, especially those things about you being a gold digger. And Brooklyn, I’m sorry for what I’ve said about your relationship, guess I’ve got a lot to learn and a lot to accept”

Brooke was satisfied with that and thanked him with a nod, before moving over to make sure Vanessa was ok. She wrapped her arms protectively around the smaller girl from behind, Vanessa leaning back into her embrace. Her brother may be a lost cause, but Brooke was so happy that her parents accepted her and Vanjie’s relationship despite their beliefs. She couldn’t wait to further rebuild the close relationship she had previously shared with them, and she was so grateful she had Vanessa along for the ride.

Tags: #branjie #vanessa Vanjie mateo #brooke Lynn Hytes #lesbian au #tw homophobia #tw racism #starsha

[nautiscarader]

Okay, so I’ve seen Crimes of Grindelwald (spoilers)

And boy, is this movie disappointing. 

Now, the first instance of Fantastic beasts was already hit-and-miss, but the plot to this movie was just freaking bizarre. And it pulled a few weird moves that even a hardcore Potterhead like myself consider out of place.

Let’s start with the positives: The movie does look amazing, and several scenes were really breath-taking, including the opening chase, and the final battle. Whether they made sense is a different thing, but they looked awesome.

I did like the ultimate reveal of Grindelwald’s plot. He wants wizards to take over muggles’ world because of a prophecy, or rather a vision of the future. Most notably, World War II. 

That scene in the Lestrange’s family vault, where Grindelwald breathed the... uh, skull fumes... which in turn showed the vision of London Blitz, concentration camps and a freaking nuclear bomb was absolutely chilling. And Jacob’s reaction to it was blood-freezing, given he was a veteran of WWI already.

so, that makes Grindelwald’s “greater good” plan actually competent and multi-dimensional. He’s evil, he wants to treat muggles as a cattle and workforce, but you can see the original skewed thinking of the young Gellert there. That, i think was executed really well.

This is something I wanted to see for a long, long time. We know from Pottermore (and first movie, I think) that wizards did participate in WWI, and I wanted to see how that will be integrated into the HP universe. We only got a glimpse of it, but it was a powerful one.

Queenie’s plot was, for the most part, very interesting. She seems on plan with subduing muggles into obedience, though of course, she draws a conclusion that it’s okay, even though she is doing it on a man who already is in love with her. But that shows how twisted her perspective is.

The beasts were kinda cool! Newt has a flat in London, which, again, is bigger on the inside than outside, and he’s still pulling off Matt Smith’s performance as The Doctor. And he keeps a freaking Kelpie in a pool in basement. Which may be a library 

Also he has a maid that is totally in love with him.

Zouwu, a.k.a. not manticore, a.k.a. big magical Chinese lion that could breathe fire and jump a hundred feet but when you jingle some bells he enters his big fluffy cat mode, was freaking amazing.  

Jude Law as Dumbledore is phenomenal. He really encapsulates all the charm, and wisdom, as well as ability to manipulate as his older incarnations.

And now onto the bad stuff.

So, here’s the thing. FB movies seems to be in-canon only with the HP movies. I think. I honestly don’t know. And the problem with that is as follow: Harry Potter movies sucked. Even the best ones had massive cuts, the plot had to be twisted or crammed. I have always wondered how does it feel to watch HP movie without reading HP book.

Well, now I know.

Every freaking second you think that this minute-long scene in the movie would be at least three pages long in the book, and all the magical shit that is pulled off would have been explained previously in tiniest details. EXCEPT THERE IS NO BOOK NOW.

And this is a genuine problem. There is a lot of magic pulled from nowhere. Like, for example, Newt and Jacob arrive in France looking for Queenie and Tina. And then Newt takes off some gold powder thing, scatters it around and ... it just shows the past?! Like, echoes of what happened, and it shows Tina walking, meeting with a black guy, etc. 

Now, we know seeing the past of *spells* is possible - Priori Incantatem can do that, but if we can just rewind the whole scene, then... why don’t Aurors do it all the time?! Where was that powder in Goblet of Fire when Ministry of Magic were investigating who conjured the Dark Mark?!

Secondly, future-seeing. In HP, it is quite heavily established that even wizards think that predicting the future is rubbish and only powerful seers can really do it. 

in CoG, we see two examples: Nicholas Flamel (admittedly, a powerful wizard) uses crystal ball to see what will happen at the graveyard, and Grindelwald himself uses... the skull-thingy. 

Okay, that needs explaining. So, Deppy-Depp here has the skull and it has some sort of pipe attached to it, and he smokes through it, and breathes out smog, and that smog shows the future.

I’d say you need to be high to invent this, but that is exactly what it looks like. 

There is a skull-bong in Harry Potter universe now.

And again, it seems to be working 100% time correctly. So yeah, ditch the seers, use this instead. Whatever it is. 

The movie shows Grindelwald and Dumbledore’s past, to an extent, and we also see some weird blood-pact-amulet thing. Again, very poorly explained. I guess it prevents them from hurting each other, hence they both use others (Dumbledore newt and Grindelwald Credence).

Also, Dumbledore is teaching Defense Against Dark Arts in Hogwarts. In the books, he was a transfiguration professor in his youth. Also, professor McGonnagal seems to be teaching in his years.

in 1927.

EIGHT YEARS BEFORE SHE WAS BORN.

OOPS.

And, honestly, she is only for a brief comedic moment. She could be substituted with a freaking Mickey Mouse, and it would have had no change on the plot whatsoever. 

Ah, well, that leads us to Credence. So, there is whole subplot about him apparently being a lost Lestrange. That coincides with the fact that both Theseus and Newt are in love with Credence’s supposed sister, Leta, so now we have two people looking for him. Oh, wait, we have a third one: a new French-African dude who is supposed to be a third Lestrange. This subplot honestly kinda goes nowhere. Turns out that the third lestrange was killed by Leta by accident, and Credence is...

Dumbledore’s brother.

yeah, this makes no fucking sense. 

I watched a review from a die-hard potter fan, and even she calls that move “like taken from worst fanfic”. And there is a reason for it.

See, when I finished watching FB1, I immediately joined the idea of Obscurus - a powerful, magical parasite that manifests in a particularly powerful wizard or witch, and can ultimately destroy them - with Ariana Dumbledore - Albus’ sister. This was a big, big, big deal in Deathly Hallows. So I was overjoyed when I learned that Dumbledore would be in the movie. Maybe the reason he takes interest in finding Credence was to see if there is a way to bring Ariana back, or whether she suffered in her death, or, hell, if he can help another child.

And, I guess it can still happen. But... where the bloody hell does that brother thing come from?! Now, it’s not confirmed, I think, and it is only told to credence by Grindelwald, but he also reveals that the bird Credence was taking care of is in fact, a phoenix, a bird that is tied to Dumbledore’s family. 

So... is he a Dumbledore? Really? How... How does that work?

And there are a lot of weirder problems in this movie. Like, at some point, Tina and Newt go to French Ministry of Magic to pull Leta’s family tree, and it is stored in the least practical fucking room with revolving pillars or something. 

Also, they go the evil mean librarian, and Tina simply says “I’m Lestrange”, and she is like “okay”.

No wand-checking?! No protective spells?! What?!

And, mind you, they are on the chase; Newt drinks polyjuice potion to look like Theseus, and it only works for maybe five minutes, as opposed to an hour, and there are posters of Newt all over French MoM. So, how the bloody hell didn’t the mean librarian notice him and raise an alarm. Or better - WHY DOESN’T SHE FUCKING STUN HIM?!

Eventually she does bring back her army of CGI multiplying cats, but that happens after Tina and Newt kinda find what they were looking for.

Edit: Oh, yeah, and one wizard can WALK THROUGH FUCKING WALLS.

Like, he has a noclip cheat turned on. WAHT.

Eh, I’m not gonna lie, this film was bad on several different levels. It had lots of good elements in it, but the bad ones do overweight them for me. And with “Cursed Child” and all of that, I really feel bummed to see one of my favourite franchises gets kinda destroyed and distorted.

I guess this is how Star Wars fan felt when the prequels came out...? Except we have three more.

[hunllefauwriting-blog]

The Key to Dealing with Hauntings

Hauntings.

It’s something I see on here a lot, and whenever I read about other people’s experiences, I internally cringe. Hearing a noise and immediately investigating it? Following the creepy looking thing that’s floating two inches above the ground? Conducting experiments to try to communicate with these things? Nope. No. Nada. In my humble opinion, those are some of the worst things you can do. The entity is already mad enough to start bothering you, and poking and prodding it is just going to make it worse. My best suggestion? Ignore it. Don’t follow that voice. Don’t record yourself sleeping. Don’t give it any indication that its tricks are affecting you in any way. Just simply ignore it.

Now, I’m no expert demonologist or whatever it is. I couldn’t tell you the difference between a poltergeist and a haunting or if they’re the same thing. My credentials are my experience. I don’t know all the facts and statistics on the supernatural, but I know what happened to my family and I.  

My wife, two sons, and I moved into a home out in the woods about three months ago. It’s a beautiful little cottage painted a light grey with white trimming, sitting amongst an old-growth forest that filtered the light in way that reminded me of fairy tales. Contrary to what most people pay for a haunted house, this property was not cheap by any means. There was a lot of land covered in forest and the cottage itself was well-built. But it was perfect. The realtor agent was a nice, young woman who seemed trustworthy, and the town that it was near was quaint and welcoming. There was literally nothing that indicated anything was wrong with the cottage. We were overjoyed with how well the boys acclimated to the new environment and new school, and it was heartwarming to see a small community so warmly welcome two women married to each other. My editing business was taking off, and my wife was having the time of her life decorating our new home. Within a month, we fell into a steady routine, and life was absolutely perfect.

And yes, of course it gets fucked up.

After a month, my younger son, Christopher, began coming into our room every single night, complaining about hearing a voice coming from under his bed. His older brother, Michael, swore up and down he had nothing to do with it, but I know what it’s like to have a younger sibling. It’s fun to play pranks on them, especially when they couldn’t prove that it was you. Despite me sternly talking to Michael several times, it continued happening. Knowing nothing I could do would stop it, I told Christopher to just to ignore it, and it would go away.

Next came the banging in the attic.

Loud, obnoxious knocks that came in threes scared the hell out of my wife, who wanted nothing more than to investigate it. I told her no, there was no reason to go up there. All we put up there were holiday decorations, suit cases, and camping gear, and I made sure there was nothing already there when we moved in. I suggested she just ignore it, and it would stop eventually. She didn’t like my advice, but she listened and after a while, she only slightly jumped when it happened.

Now, this next one did freak me out a bit, but there was no reason to show any distress. I wear an activity tracker that counts my steps and monitors my sleep. One morning, about two months into living at the cottage, I woke up unusually exhausted. My tracker only had me awake for a minute, and the rest was mostly deep sleep. But my step count was already at 15,000 steps; I don’t even walk that much during the span of a day. I didn’t fully believe it, but I forced myself to believe that it must’ve malfunctioned. I ignored it. I continued to do this when I woke up with muddy feet and a rust-colored substance under my nails. Of course, my wife asked questions, but I shrugged her off and she knew not to push it.

After that is when the old woman showed up.

My first encounter with her took a lot of self-control to not react. I was taking a shower, rinsing shampoo out of my hair. And because shampoo is awful to get into your eyes, I closed mine while letting the water hit me, feeling the suds slide down my face. It’s a wonderful feeling, honestly. Rubbing the water off my face, I opened my eyes to the milky white eyes of a dried, wrinkly face. I’m not proud to admit it, but I froze. Unexpectedly staring into the white eternal depths of an entity taking the shape of a hunch-backed, slack-jawed old woman will do that to you. It took me a couple of seconds, but I regained my composure and continued my shower. The woman stayed there the entire time, but it was easy to maneuver around her. My arm brushed against her once, but I was careful not to jerk away from the feeling of dry leaves dragging across my skin. After that, I saw her on a regular basis. In the kitchen, behind my sons getting their afternoon snacks. Clutching the ceiling, staring down at us as my wife and I had “our time.” Right next to the dryer as I was switching over the laundry. I seemed to be the only one who could see her, no one else reacted to her. I know I told them to ignore weird things, but I knew there was no way they’d ignore a sight like her.

What really pushed my limits was waking up and finding my family dismembered in the living room.

It was a Sunday, and my wife wasn’t still in bed next to me when I woke up, which I thought was weird but shrugged it off. She had been talking about attending a church service or two the past couple of days. It was also completely silent within the house, which does not happen with two boys, so I figured she took them with her. She knew better than to ask me to go, explaining why she didn’t wake me up. Anyways, I got up, showered, and stumbled my way to the coffee maker. To get to the kitchen (where my lord and savior, the coffee maker, lives), I had to pass through the living room.

Now, imagine your family. You love them more than life, and it’d kill you to see anything happen to them. Now imagine them torn to pieces and tossed into a pile. Yeah, that’s what I walked in on.

I really didn’t know what I as looking at, at first. There was this oblong object poking out with stubby, wide sticks capped with red attached. While staring at it, it slowly registered that I was looking at my wife’s dismembered foot jutting out from the bottom of a pile of flesh and viscera. After that, my mind seemed to register every hanging ribbon of skin peeled from the muscle, every blood droplet dripping from tattered arteries, every splinter of white peeking through the deep red. I drank in the sight of it, so close to screaming and raking my nails against my eyes to claw it out. Their heads sat intact and wound with entrails, as if to keep them standing to greet me. Eyes wide with terror, filmed over with a milky white; jaws broken and slack, hanging down past the heads’ pedestals of intestines. Blood drenched everything, the puddle still creeping outwards from the pile, slowly devouring the white of the carpet.

That terrible, fucking curse of a sight is what I walked into, while thinking my family was at church and I would enjoy some alone time. And you know what I did? After gawking at it for a few seconds, I swallowed my initial reaction and walked past it. I ignored it. Entities are capable of conjuring all sorts of hallucinations, aren’t they? I originally thought that they went to church, and the entities saw their chance to try and fuck with me. They wanted a react and I was not about to give it to them.

After the sun started setting, I figured my wife just got tired of everything going on and decided to stay at her mom’s house with the boys’. That’s all. I thought she’d at least leave a note or call once she got there, but she tends to shut me out when she’s pissed. Lord knows I’ve pissed her off with ignoring everything that’s been happening around the house. So she’s just taking a break. That’s all.

The stench of the living room is beginning to make me gag every time I go into the kitchen, but I’m still holding strong. It’s been a few weeks since my wife left with the boys, but I’m confident she’ll call at some point. I’ve been considering moving again so they don’t have to deal with this; they’re much worse at ignoring everything than I am. Until then, I’ll hold strong. Ignoring the pile of bodies is getting easier even if the smell is getting worse.

Ignoring is the key.

[scoops404]

New Fic:

Til Death Chapter 1

Summary: After discovering that Dan's recent strange behavior is caused by a brain tumor, Dan and Phil make some interesting choices.

Word Count: 4,777

“What are you doing, Dan,” Phil cuts off the camera with an uncharacteristic aggressiveness, “We can’t use any of that. What’s up with you?”

Dan looks at the computer screen in front of them, loaded up with the Golf with Friends start menu. They were just doing their introduction for this new video and Phil won’t let him say anything. Dan caters to Phil’s criteria when they are on his channel, but this is for the gaming channel and he can say whatever the fuck he wants, “What are you talking about?”

“Dan! You just implied I’m going to use golf balls as anal beads on you! What do you mean ‘what are you talking about?’” Phil looks ready to pull his fringe out and his eyes have gone a bit crazy and even though Dan still doesn’t get why that’s a big deal, he respects that Phil’s upset about it.

“Okay okay, I don’t see what was wrong with that, but let’s do it again,” he says, taking off the obnoxious green felt golfing hat that Phil insists that they wear whenever they play this game. He already has green fuzzies all in his hair and no manner of brushing his fingers through the curls is going to make all of them disappear.

Phil doesn’t take his own hat off, he just stares at Dan until Dan starts to feel like he’s x-raying his non-existent soul or something. It’s very unnerving.

“What?” Dan says, the staring totally getting to him.

Phil finally comes out of the trance, throws his own hat off and chucks it onto the sofa behind them, “Really, what’s up with you? You’re usually so careful about what you say and how you say it and for weeks you don’t seem to care about that anymore. It’s gotten really bad these last few videos. Editing has been a nightmare and I still couldn’t get rid of everything without missing large chunks of Dil’s life.”

Dan sighs and just keeps himself from rolling his eyes. That definitely won’t help the situation. Phil rarely decides that they need to have a conversation these days, but when he does, he takes it very seriously.

When Dan doesn’t speak, Phil continues, “and it’s more than that. You’ve been tweeting some strange things, like strange even for you. The fans are starting to pick up on it. Are you okay? Are you going through something? You know you can tell me anything. I just want to help.”

“Phil,” Dan begins, not really knowing where the sentence is going to take him, “I’m fine. I’m just loosening up some, being more candid with the audience.”

“That’s not true,” Phil protests, “you would have discussed that with me. You know our brand is so intertwined that what you do affects me and you’ve never been so uncaring before,” He stares uncomfortably into Dan’s eyes again and Dan resists the urge to look away, because that would be a sign of weakness, “it’s almost like you don’t even realize, like you haven’t thought through what you’re going to say. Like your filter is gone.”

Dan stands up, “I’m going to get a ribena. I’ve gotta—“

Phil pulls at his arm until he’s forced to sit again, “Why are you so uncomfortable?”

Dan shakes him off his arm, he really doesn’t want to be touched right now. Even if it’s Phil, who he’s never minded touching before. In fact, he usually finds his touch calming and grounding. Something about the touch this time grates on him, not physically, but there’s something he’s avoiding in his psyche, that he’s purposefully blind to, and Phil’s touch is shining a spotlight on it. Something in Dan knows that he’s supposed to keep it hidden.

“Dan,” Phil’s voice is careful, like how he speaks to scared animals and overwhelmed fans who need gentleness and Dan resents that he’s had to bring it out right now, “are you okay?”

“I’ve been having really bad headaches recently?” Dan says totally without knowing he was going to say it, “and I haven’t been sleeping, like, worse than usual.”

Phil nods and gently places his hand on Dan’s arm again, “is something keeping you up this time?”

“Nothing I can point to,” Dan says and a corner of the Unnamed Hidden Thing comes into the light. Dan almost wants to blink.

“There’s usually something that keeps you from sleeping, right?” Phil asks and Dan knows he’s thinking 2012 when Phan got under Dan’s skin and he’s thinking about Dan’s university freak out and he’s thinking about countless other things that have bothered Dan over the years enough to disrupt his sleep. He’s not wrong. Dan’s cursed with overthinking himself into a sleepless frenzy. It’s how he handles stress and anxiety and even if his methods are not super healthy, that’s his usual routine until Phil catches him and distracts him with anime or animal facts or whatever weird thing he’s gotten into lately.

“Usually,” Dan says.

“So you’re not sleeping and you’re having really bad headaches and you’re mood is all over the place—“

“My mood is not all over the place,” Dan says because his mood has been fine. What is Phil talking about?

“Dan, you got legitimately angry at a Youtube comment yesterday. You haven’t done that since the first year you started making videos.”

“She said you looked like an alien mixed with emo Peter Pan!” Dan says, getting mildly upset thinking about it again, “I couldn’t let that go.”

“Exactly,” Phil says like he’s won the argument, “you would have laughed at that before. I mean, it’s kind of funny.”

“It’s not funny,” Dan argues, “it’s mean and cyber bullying and I don’t like people talking about my friend like that.”

“Thank you, really, I think it’s sweet you want to defend me. But I’ve been able to defend myself since before I met you. And you know that. Which makes this out of character for you. Do you see where I’m coming from?” Phil’s still touching his arm and the Unnamed Hidden Thing is becoming much less hidden and much scarier as a result.

Dan nods.

“I really think you need to see a doctor,” Phil says carefully, like he knows Dan is likely to blow up at him about this.

“A doctor, really?”

Phil ignores his whine and grips his arm tighter, “Yeah. You aren’t sleeping, you’re having headaches, you’re having weird mood swings, and your brain-to-mouth filter has disappeared. There’s too many red flags, Dan. Go to the doctor and get checked out.”

He hesitates. He really doesn’t want to go to the doctor, that involves going outside, taking transportation, having someone poke and prod at him and no real visible symptoms he can point to. The brief reprieve he’s had from the headaches suddenly seems fleeting. Just thinking about it makes him feel the beginnings of another headache.

“I want you to know that I’m listening to what you’re saying, Phil,” he says, using his free hand to rub at his temples like that can scare away the headache sure to follow, “but can we talk about this again tomorrow. I can’t—I can’t deal with any more right now, okay?”

Phil looks at him and reads that he’s genuine. He lifts his hand off Dan’s arm and turns the camera back on, “Alright, but I’m bringing it up again tomorrow and if I need to, I’m making the appointment myself.”

Dan smiles, grateful that Phil dropped it for now and grateful that he cares enough to bring it up in the first place. Mostly he’s grateful he doesn’t have to think about it for a few hours.

“Where’d my hat go?” Phil asks himself as Dan takes some deep breaths.

“You threw it over there in your rush for confrontation,” Dan teases him, needing the seriousness of their conversation to disperse before they have to be lively and funny for the video.

“I wasn’t rushing for confrontation, Mr. Stuck-in-his-own-head. Let’s just play,” he picks the hat up off the floor by bending over awkwardly in his chair and places it on the desk next to him, “and no more weird innuendos about anyone’s butt.”

Dan smirks, “no promises.”

    It turns out that Phil doesn’t have to wait until the morning to continue the conversation because Dan has a seizure after dinner.

One second he’s sitting on the couch with Dan’s feet in his lap and the next second, Dan’s rolled off the couch and thrashing around and Phil goes from comfy to utterly terrified in the space between heartbeats.

He knows he’s read about what to do if someone has a seizure, he’s seen it on tumblr or something, but he can’t grasp anything coherently with his best friend seizing on the ground in front of him. He falls off the couch as well, screaming his name, and after a split second of hesitation, decides to put one arm over Dan’s legs, trying to keep them as still as possible, and throws his other arm and body over Dan’s to keep him from moving as much as he can. When that doesn’t seem to work much, he has another panic moment before taking a deep breath. He looks around frantically. He sees his phone on the arm of the couch, laughing at him. He feels Dan’s phone under his arm, still snugly in his pocket. Phil fumbles with his friend’s pocket, grabs the phone and dials 999.

They get to the flat very quickly, Phil thinks and remembers resenting the sirens outside the old flat for sounding out every few minutes. He’s glad to hear those sirens now, he’s overjoyed to think that help is close. Phil’s never been this terrified before in his life. He lets the EMTs in and leads them to Dan. It takes a while, Phil’s lost all sense of time, but they stabilize him and get him ready to transport to the hospital. Phil answers questions about what happened and he answers as best as he can, but honestly, he thinks he’s in shock and has no idea what he’s already said.

He follows Dan’s stretcher down to the street and starts to get in the ambulance with him when a middle aged EMT politely stops him.

“Sorry, love, you can’t come in the ambulance with us,” she says kindly.

“What?” Phil says, watching them load Dan into the back, “but that’s my best friend. I need to go with him.”

“You can’t,” she says again, “I’m sorry, but you’re not family so you can’t ride in the ambulance. But you can meet us at the hospital.”

Phil shakes his head a bit, having a hard time concentrating. It’s no use arguing, that’s only going to delay Dan getting to the hospital, and it looks like they’re about ready to go.

“Which hospital?” he asks, trying to find his phone to call a cab.

“St. Bart’s,” she replies, “and maybe grab some things for him. I have a feeling he’ll have to be admitted overnight and he might want some of his own things when he wakes up.”

She steps away, jumps into the passenger side of the ambulance just as the EMTs in with Dan close the door and suddenly the sirens are blaring and Phil’s watching his best friend drive away and he feels like absolute shit that he couldn’t do anything. He couldn’t even ride with him and hold his hand.

Phil takes a second to breathe and quell the panic of the last ten minutes. Has it really only been ten minutes?

“You a’right, mate?” he hears from his right and there’s the neighbor that told him off about trying to befriend the pigeons and suddenly Phil realizes that he’s standing barefoot in the street in just his pajamas, dried tears on his cheeks, and there are people staring at him.

He doesn’t bother to answer. He runs back upstairs, changes into regular clothes. He grabs Dan’s phone, his laptop, charger, some clothes, the book he’s been trying to read the last couple nights, and orders a car. He decides it’s better not to count how many things he’s dropped and had to pick up, his natural clumsiness a dangerous combination with muted panic.

Once he’s safely in the car, Phil calls Dan’s mum to let her know her son is in the hospital. It’s not too late, just past 9:00pm, but they deserve to know.

“Dan, honey?”

“Actually it’s Phil, Mrs. Howell,” he says, one eye on the GPS at the front of the car trying to gauge how far away they are from St. Bart’s.

He hears her confusion, “Phil, what’s going on? Why are you calling from Dan’s phone?”

“Sorry, it’s just the one I had in my hand,” what he means is that he thought she would be more likely to pick up a call from her son then her son’s best friend and flat mate. “I’m not really sure how to, uh, say this… but, uh, Dan had a seizure tonight and had to go to the hospital.”

“Oh my God,” she whispers, “is he okay?”

Phil swallows harshly, “The EMTs say he’s okay, they had him stabilized when he got in the ambulance, but they also said he’d probably have to be admitted.”

“Okay, which hospital?”

“St. Bart’s,” he sees the hospital ahead and breathes out a sigh of relief that he’s close.

“I can be there in two hours,” she says.

“Why don’t you let me see what they say, and if you need to come, I’ll let you know. No need to come out here if they don’t actually admit him. I’ll call you back in thirty minutes, okay? I can see the hospital now,” he gathers his bag of his and Dan’s things and throws the strap over his shoulder, ready to jump out the second the car comes to a complete stop, forgetting momentarily that he needs to pay the driver.

“You didn’t ride with him in the ambulance, Philip?”

“No ma’am,” he’s still upset about it, “they wouldn’t let me because I’m not family.”

Her voice is soft and so lovely when she says, “of course you’re family, dear. Of course you’re family. You’ve been taking care of my boy for years and you’re going to take care of him tonight. I’ll wait for you to call me in twenty minutes and I’ll pack in the meantime in case I need to come. You go see about Daniel and call me when you know something okay?”

He blinks, “I will. Talk to you soon.”

“Bye, love.”

Even if he didn’t remember to pay the driver, the driver so helpfully reminds him with a few choice words that Phil wouldn’t be able to repeat in a video. He shakes his head, like he can clear away the cloud where his brain should be and start thinking clearly, but all he can think about is Dan shaking on the ground, scared and alone and with no knowledge of what happened.

At the reception desk, he asks the nurse for where Dan is and is politely told that he can’t see him but he’s welcome to wait in the waiting area where they have coffee and tea provided. Phil is getting really sick of people telling him he can’t see his best friend, no matter how nice they are about it.

“Will you at least tell me the second I can see him?” he asks hopefully and isn’t buoyed with hope looking at her face.

“I’m sorry, sir,” she says and Phil knows that she means it, but that doesn’t make it hurt any less, “he came through not five minutes ago. No one except immediate family is allowed back until the doctor clears it.”

Phil feels his head drop and he’s looking at the drab hospital tiled floor through very watery eyes. He tries to blink the water away, but he’s not very successful. “Okay, well, I’ll be in the waiting room. Please let me know what’s going on as soon as you can,” he pleads with her, “his mother is waiting on me to call with news, so…” he trails off and even with the kindness in the nurse’s eyes he can’t help but resent her.

He turns away and walks to the Waiting Room and grabs an open chair away from the only other occupant in the room, a man in his thirties with his head in his hands rocking back and forth. Phil’s heart goes out to him.

Twenty minutes go by with absolutely no word from anybody. Phil calls Mrs. Howell to let her know and apologizes that he can’t be of more help.

“Phil,” she says in that reassuring way that mums have, “you’re doing the best you can. Please don’t punish yourself. He knows you love him and that you wouldn’t leave him alone by choice.” The watery eyes make a dramatic return and Phil swallows a lump in his throat. He knows she’s right. Dan knows. Dan knows Phil wouldn’t leave him alone. He doesn’t leave him alone at parties, and that’s just social awkwardness. He hasn’t left him alone in years now, really. Dan’s even invited to his family vacations these days because they can’t bear to be apart. Because Dan is family, even if it’s not by the strict definition by societal standards.

“I’m leaving the house now, I’ll be there in two hours,” Mrs. Howell says in his ear, “do what you can until then. And Phil?”

When he speaks, his voice is husky and sounds nothing like he normally does, “Yes?”

“Thank you for everything.”

    Dan falls asleep after the first round of testing. He vaguely remembers the ambulance ride, remembers hearing the sirens and wondering who got stabbed before he groggily realized the sirens were coming from the outside of the vehicle he was in. He remembers the vague shape of the EMT looking him over and he remembers wondering where Phil was.

He’s not sure how long he stays in the emergency part of A&E but next thing he knows, a very burly man is rolling his bed down the hall and then he has his own room. The doctor comes in and explains that he had a seizure and that they want to do an MRI. He has an irrational thought that he’s glad he didn’t have this seizure in America where he’d have to pay for an MRI before he remembers that the doctor probably needs his permission or something. He nods at the doctor and then they’re rolling him down the hallway again.

He has a flashback to the Manchester hospital and wonders if they’ll give him morphine this time. Then he’s in the MRI machine and honestly it’s one of the creepiest things he’s ever experienced and he wants Phil to tell him he’s being stupid and that it’s fine. He wants Phil to talk about something ridiculous and make ridiculous observations about people like he does sometimes and Dan wants to dramatically roll his eyes at him even though he’s actually very amused and they both know it.

He wants to have his head in Phil’s lap like he’s only allowed when he’s feeling very poorly and have Phil stroke his hair while they watch a re-run of an anime season that they both love.

He wants Phil next to him while he talks to the doctor because he knows that Phil will remember everything the doctor tells them and ask intelligent questions or the not-so-intelligent questions but ones Dan is dying to know, but knows is stupid. He wants Phil to explain what’s happening to him because currently he feels like he’s swimming underwater and everything is distorted and he can’t really breathe.

He falls asleep when they bring him back to his room after the MRI. He’s tired and confused and they might have drugged him, he’s not sure, but he can’t keep his eyes open and he drifts into sleep.

When his eyes open back up, he can tell it’s been hours. He’s on his side staring directly at the wall. The small window in the room has a small amount of light filtering in when he swears before that there wasn’t any. By the light, he can see his mother fretting with the TV remote. He turns over onto his back and bumps into Phil, asleep with his head pillowed on his arms on the unused part of Dan’s hospital bed. A soft smile reaches his face.

“Mum?” he says and his mother jumps a bit.

“Daniel,” she says, putting the remote down and her hand over her heart. The muted TV seems to be stuck on the news, “how are you feeling?”

He has to think about it for a minute, “like I can finally think.”

Phil twists a bit in his sleep and Dan speaks more quietly, “Everything is kind of a blur until right now.”

“Do you know what happened,” his mum asks, walking to the unoccupied side of the bed and putting her hand on his arm.

Dan knows something happened, knows that he wouldn’t have been admitted to the hospital without a good reason. Even though he can’t remember everything, he was definitely in an MRI machine a couple hours ago. But why he’s here? He doesn’t know that.

“No, I—“ he squirms in the bed, trying to get comfortable and his hand winds up on Phil’s arm. He doesn’t move it.

“I remember Phil telling me yesterday that I needed to see a doctor even if he had to schedule the appointment himself,” Dan says, “we had a bit of a row to be honest. It was mostly my fault, I think.”

“But you don’t remember how you ended up here?” She asks, eyes searching his face.

“No,” Dan hates that he doesn’t know, “Mum, what happened?”

“You had a seizure, baby,” her hand come up to move his fringe out of his eyes, “you gave poor Phil quite the scare.”

“A seizure?”

She nods, “Phil said you were watching TV after dinner and then you fell off the couch.”

“Oh,” he says quietly and honestly doesn’t know what to do with that information. Just then, he feels Phil start to stir under his arm. He looks over in time to see him blink awake.

“Hey,” he says dumbly while Phil stares at him.

“Dan,” Phil yawns, “hey.”

When neither of them say anything else, Dan’s mum chuckles on the other side of the bed, “you two are ridiculous. Phil, you spent the entire night demanding to be as close to Dan as possible, even when they wouldn’t let you ride in the ambulance or back in A&E and you’re just going to say ‘hey?’”

Phil shrugs, “Well I’m here now and I didn’t do anything he wouldn’t do for me.”

Dan thinks about it for a second, grateful that his mum told him what Phil’s been through because he knows that Phil would have left that part out or downplayed it.

“I probably would have lied or manipulated a bit more to get to you, but yeah,” he says as he realizes his hand is still on Phil’s arm and slowly brings it away, “thanks for staying and sorry I scared you.”

“Not your fault,” Phil says, yawning again.

This makes Dan yawn as well. He pauses mid-yawn when the door opens and a gray haired man in a white coat walks in with the air of someone who belongs there. Dan has a vague memory of him from the night before and he must be the attending or something.

“Mr. Howell,” he says, grabbing the chart, “you’re awake. Good.”

Dan nods and suddenly feels about eight years old.

“Has your family told you anything about what happened?”

“They told me I had a seizure,” he says and almost adds ‘sir’ to that and is glad he didn’t because he would have been mortified.

The doctor nods, “it’s a little more complicated than that, son,” he says and he has a voice that booms. Like one of those people who thinks they’re whispering when they’re talking at a normal volume, “The seizure was just a symptom and not the big kahuna.”

Phil’s hand sneaks its way into Dan’s and as strange as it is, it’s more comforting than anything else. They’re best friends, sure, and they’re more tactile than a lot of other best friends, but they’ve never just held hands. So while it comforts him, Phil holding his hand also raises his alarm bells because Phil’s pre-emptively comforting him and that can’t be a good thing.

“Then what’s wrong with me?” Dan says and squeezes Phil’s hand.

“Well,” the doctor looks him straight in the eyes and Dan has a bout of panic and his knuckles are white, “Your friend Phil here told us about your mood swings and the headaches and trouble sleeping. So we did an MRI of your brain and, well, there’s a small tumor on your left frontal lobe.”

Dan’s vision whites out for a second and he can’t hear anything past tumor.

“Dan,” Phil says softly and it sounds more like a question, like a ‘are you ready for the doctor to keep going yet?’

He looks over at Phil and sees his own fear in those sharp blue eyes.

“Please go on,” Dan says, “is it…. Is it cancerous?”

Dan’s mum squeezes his other arm and Dan’s so very grateful to be surrounded by the two people who love him most in the world.

“We don’t think so,” the doctor reassures him and, well, at least that’s one good thing, “but if you don’t have it removed in the next month, it’s going to kill you regardless.”

Well, rip that plaster right fucking off then, mate.

“We’ve got you scheduled for surgery in a week’s time. Pre-op is two days before. I’ve given all the information to your family,” the doctor goes on and it’s all Dan can do to comprehend what he’s saying let alone analyze it and let it soak in, “you can go home now, there’s nothing else to do except take the tumor out. You should still experience the same symptoms you were experiencing before until the tumor comes out, but with the medication we’re going to give you, the headaches should decrease in severity.”

Dan nods woodenly.

“Do you have any questions, son?”

“How,” he begins shakily, “how successful is this surgery? Will I be fine afterwards?”

The doctor pauses before answering and that tells Dan all he really needs to know. His mood blackens and he almost doesn’t hear the doctor when he says “the surgery itself is pretty risky. Anytime we poke around the brain it’s considered risky. But the chances of you making a complete recovery should the surgery go well are very high. The surgery itself is the big risk.”

Dan absolutely doesn’t want to have surgery. He imagines himself in the surgical theater, surrounded by doctors in faceless masks saying things like “scalpel, stat” to each other and drilling a hole into the back of his head with the kind of drill Phil’s dad got him for Christmas and Dan shakes his head so hard that he almost gives himself another headache.

“I know what you’re thinking,” the doctor says, “you’re thinking you don’t want to have the surgery at all.”

Dan nods.

“Here’s the thing about that,” the doctor tells him, “your chances of dying without the surgery are 100%. There’s no two ways about it. The tumor is growing at such an exponential rate that it’s going to take over your brain and start impairing your motor function, your ability to see, your ability to breathe. It’s already affecting your judgment and your mood. Do you really want to give this tumor that much power over you?”

Dan shakes his head.

“I know it’s scary, but we’ve scheduled the surgery in a week because that’s when the U.K.’s top neurosurgeon is back in London. You’ll have the best of the best, Mr. Howell, I promise.”

Dan nods again, recognizing that he seems to have lost the ability to speak.

“Thanks, Dr. Reynolds,” Phil says when he sees that Dan’s not going to ask any more questions.

“Of course, and by the way boys,” Dr. Reynolds says, picking the chart back up and walking towards the door, “I loved you guys on the BBC. I’m sorry I had to give you this news.”

Dan smiles shallowly. It’s always nice to meet a fan.

[fire-fira]

Fic Writer Meme: 5, 8, 9, 17, 25, 38, 40.

5) Share one of your strengths.

I’m really good at getting into the headspace of characters and letting their voices and their emotions lead the story. (For me the emotions in a story are one of the most important details, so I put a lot of focus on it.)

8) Share a snippet from one of your favorite dialogue scenes you’ve written and explain why you’re proud of it.

This one was really hard actually, and I couldn’t make up my mind between two scenes (from [Birthday Surprises are Hard When Your Partners are Attached at the Spine] and [Janus: Long Before Me]), so I decided to include both. 

Jaimesnapped his head to try to glance over his shoulder at the scarab. “You were in on this?!”

[Affirmative,] Khaji Da answeredsmugly.

“Dios mio! You mean to tell me that this whole day of being completely run into the ground was the set up for this?!” he squawked. His dad looked likehe was trying not to laugh.

“Onlyparts of it,” Tim answered, “Though Barry making sure you were stranded inMetropolis for a bit was definitely part of it.”

Jaimelet out a groan as he facepalmed. “All of you nearly killed me. Were you tryingto kill me? Because you nearly killed me.”

“Wehad to make sure you were distracted so we could set things up though,” Bartprotested, turning big puppy eyes on Jaime.

Jaimefroze, dropped his hand, and looked at Bart suspiciously. There was somethingmore going on here. If it had been a matter of a surprise party at his house orsomewhere in town it wouldn’t have required thatmuch effort and distraction. It was then that he noticed the packed luggageoff to the side— not enough for all of them, but certainly enough for Jaime andhis family. “What did you do?” he asked warily.

“It’snot what I did!” Bart said beforemotioning to Kon, “It’s more what he was up to.” Jaime turned his attention toKon and raised an eyebrow.

Konraked a hand through his hair, the keys in his other hand stilling as heanswered. “It’s more like what my dad did…” At Jaime’s questioning look headded, “My other dad.”

Understandingdawned. Lex Luthor was not known for doing anything halfway. The man might technically beknown by all members of the League as a supervillain, but over the years it hadbecome painfully obvious that he saw Kon as his son and would do just aboutanything to make sure that kryptonian/human hybrid never lacked for anything.In fact there had been several plans Kon had managed to talk him down from onthe basis that said plans would ‘negatively impact’ and make thingsunnecessarily difficult for him. And if Kon had dragged Lex Luthor into this, then these birthday plans had probably gotteninsanely out of hand.

“…Whatdid he do?” Jaime asked cautiously, almost dreading the answer.

Konshrugged, entirely too relaxed about the idea of having gotten his (‘supervillain’) father to help out with Bart’s plans for Jaime’s birthdayparty. “Nothing less than reserving an entire small island resort with fullamenities for all of us for the entire weekend and arranging to have a privatejet waiting at the airport to take us there.”

Jaimestared. “What?”

“You heard me,” Konsmirked.

Dr. Bruckheimer might have frowned. He didn’t care really. “You aren’t… You’re not… Don’t you have any understanding that you’re not in control here?!”

“Don’t you and the others have any understanding that I don’t particularly care, and in that sense I have every last ounce of control I could possibly need?” he returned casually.

“You just-” Dr. Bruckheimer sputtered for a moment or two before forcing himself to regain control. “Look… We need to know. We need to know if your capabilities are what we think they are.”

“Or?” the hybrid asked, unimpressed, “What? You and the others will ‘terminate’ me? You’ll forgive me if that doesn’t seem like much of a threat considering that that is clearly what happened to those who came before me.”

“Don’t you care that if you don’t work with us then you’ll be terminated?” Dr. Bruckheimer finally squawked in disbelief, far too disturbed by the hybrid to restrain himself any further. “Don’t you care that you’ll be deemed a failure, terminated, and most likely dissected if you don’t cooperate?” Apparently the scientist didn’t care anymore that he was giving the hybrid information he wasn’t supposed to. Hilarious. Amazing what causing a world-class freak-out could accomplish.

He was silent, an aloof expression on his face as if he was contemplating a mildly confusing but engaging riddle for a minute or two. Finally he deliberately locked eyes with the scientist; he knew it would creep the man out and he had decided now was the moment to show-case a maximum creep-out factor. “No.”

“No? No?!” The man was clearly distressed.

“Do you want to know why?” he asked, his head tilting to the side curiously.

“KR 10, stop it,” Dr. Bruckheimer demanded with an edge of panic as he shoved himself away from the table. Clearly the hybrid had gotten under his skin more than he’d expected. Good. Still… that damned designation though…

Milky pale-blue blind eyes remained fixed on the face they couldn’t see. The hybrid, in full-blown ‘Lex mode,’ coldly stated, “That’s not my name.”

“KR 10,” Dr. Bruckheimer said warningly, both trying to hold his ground and back away to the door.

“My name is Kaizhidime, for the record,” he calmly said, deliberately using the Kryptonian pronunciation of Kaiz-hihd-ihm-ey. Not that they’d know or appreciate the ingenuity of it without his providing an explanation. “A Kryptonian god. You might consider the concept rather similar to that of the Ancient Roman god Janus; the one who looks into both past and future and is the god of beginnings and endings. Well, among various other things, but those were the most apt for my own circumstances.” There was a bit of an echo of Lex’s fascination with all things Ancient Greek to the hybrid’s tone.

Dr. Bruckheimer had backed against the doorway, and the whole way Kaizhidime had kept his blind blue eyes locked on the man. “This is not happening,” the scientist said in a panicked whisper before protesting more loudly, “You can’t even see!”

Kaizhidime gave a wicked smile that Lex Luthor would be proud of. “Not in the present, no. But in the past or the future? My vision is better than 20/20. Should I tell you where you left your keycard this morning? Or what happened to your car last week? Or would you think it more considerate if I let you know about what’s going to happen tomorrow? It’s quite a set-back too. Not as much of a set-back as one of the next ones will be though. When he gets loose in the lab that’s going to be a really nasty bloodbath. I hope by then Cadmus labs is stocked up on hydrogen peroxide— I hear that’s the quickest way to get rid of blood on anything.”

As for why I’m proud of these scenes: There’s just something hilarious about Jaime being a complete flustered wreck with everyone being in on a surprise for him that I find immensely satisfying. (Plus Hawaiian-adopted Kon who has a good relationship with Lex is pretty much my favorite version of Kon ever.) And I can’t help but be proud of how much of a devious little shit Kon’s older brother Kai (my OC) is and how successfully he can creep people out when he wants to.

That, and in both instances I feel like there’s a very clear representation of the characters involved. n.n

9) Which fic has been the hardest to write?

THE LONG ONES. I have several long fics going right now, but has been taking me forever to get through them. XP

So many ideas, and not enough time available to spend on marathon-writing.

17) Do you write your story from start to finish, or do you write the scenes out of order?

It’s almost always start-to-finish. Then again I have an idea of some events I want to have happen before I start writing or as I’m writing (I get random ideas for scenes that play out in my head several times over before I write them), and it’s usually a matter of writing the story and filling in details to get those scenes in. Occasionally (very rarely) I’ll have instances where I have to go back in a narrative and add in extra scenes to flesh things out a little (which is actually going on with my giant introductory Devilfish fic), but instances like that are on the rarer side.

25) What do you look for in a beta?

I almost never have a beta to be honest. Mainly because I have really high standards for my own writing and I have a long-standing habit of editing as I go along. I write large chunks, and then I have a habit of going back and reading through what I have and doing minor tweaks as I feel is needed before continuing on. (By the time I’ve posted a fic I’ve probably at least read it in full something close to fifty times– if I include collectively all the random instances of chunks of back-reading.)

So I would probably be a pain for a beta to deal with, tbh.

38) Talk about a review that made your day.

Okay, not gonna lie: Best review I ever got? Someone told me that they had been in an abusive relationship and that reading I Tried To Warn You helped them realize it was abusive and they got out. My fic helped someone get out of an abusive relationship. I’m STILL giddy and overjoyed about that and it’s almost been a year.

40) Write an alternative ending to [insert fic title] (or just the summary of one).

(Since you left it up to me, here’s an alternate ending to [Cinders in a Late Night, Burning Bright].)

“I should go,” Bart said awkwardly, not wanting to leave.

“I know,” Jaime agreed, not wanting Bart to leave. He walked his husband-to-be to the door and paused with his door on the handle. “Goodnight?”

Bart considered for a moment before pressing a quick kiss to Jaime’s cheek. “…That was for both of you,” he said with gentle smile. He lingered, reluctant to leave and tempted to do more.

Jaime was suddenly, intensely, aware of just how close they were. He felt torn between the desire to kiss Bart and the knowledge that if he did and anyone found out he was being ‘overly intimate’ with his fiance before they were married that it would be a fiasco. But Bart was just so—

[Jaime Reyes, reminder: breathe.]

Jaime didn’t bother fighting the love-struck smile that crept onto his face, earning a beaming smile in turn from Bart.

The sound of a politely cleared throat prompted them to whip their heads toward the open door to see Ángel discretely blocking the doorway to prevent them from being seen. They raised an eyebrow at Jaime and Bart’s flustered expressions and they rocketed apart, and at the sight of Jaime’s open-hanging robe. When they spoke, Ángel’s tone was politely respectful, but clearly amused.“I take it, Your Majesty, visits from your betrothed are to be encouraged?”

Bart turned beet-red and buried his face in his hands as he mumbled, “Oh maaannnn… Kill me now.”

Jaime sputtered for a moment before he was able to collect himself and wrapped his robe a little more tightly. “We-well, maybe not so late. I mean, it wasn’t all that late, but maybe not when it’s late and I’m in the—”

Ángel looked decidedly amused and closed the door. “Encouraged when the three of you can get away with it then.”

Bart almost choked. “I, ah, um… Should I go? I think I should probably go…”

Suddenly there was that thoughtful drumming sensation around Jaime’s spine; Jaime almost wanted to groan. [Query: the Ángel Hárvarðr is implying they would help us keep ‘scandalous’ visits like this one secret. Does this extend to greater involvement?]

Jaime didn’t even need any images to flash through his mind to know what Khaji Da was hinting at as he turned about as red as was humanly possible. “Oh my GOD! Khaji Da! Shut up!”

[myriadimagines]

We Are Not The Same, Brother (Part 2)

Star Wars (The Force Awakens) One Shot

Characters: [FEMALE] Reader x Kylo Ren + Leia Organa, Finn & Rey

Warnings: mentions of death, tfa spoilers, crying and just in general lots of freaking emotions

Request: “I like the idea of reader deadass just dragging Ren back to base and keeping him in a box until the dark side washes out of his system. Then they go and kill snoke. And yay happy ending. And you could ship reader with someone. Not Finn because FinnRey for life but maybe Poe? Or idk maybe Finn cause you did put some chemistry there.” - racheltheclumsy

Word Count: 2,592

A/N: (I already discussed this with you but for the other readers) I kinda edited the request a bit, but nevertheless I hope it’s still okay !! I was almost on the verge of tears as I was writing the ending. PART 1

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“You think you’re the only one with that trick?” you muttered to yourself as you dragged Kylo’s unconscious body onto your ship and strapped him into the copilot seat. You handcuffed his hands behind him and strapped his lightsaber into your belt.

After you had confronted him, you went back to your ship and contemplated what to do. You came close to killing Kylo, but decided against it. Yet, you felt as if something were missing if you just left Kamino without him. Your father was trying to bring him home, after all, before he was killed. Deciding to carry out what your father had attempted, you went back and rendered Kylo unconscious with the Force, like what he did to Rey as she recalled when the two of you were talking one day. You had taken down the stormtroopers accompanying him, and dragged him back to your ship.

Jumping to hyperspace, you leaned back in your chair and closed your eyes. You were exhausted and scared of what was ahead. You knew your mom, Leia, would be overjoyed to have your brother home, but you knew everyone else on base would have animosity towards him. You hoped everyone would be able to control their animosity enough not to kill him.

As soon as your ship came into the view of the Resistance base, Finn jumped to his feet. He was sitting outside, anxiously waiting for you to return, and he felt as if a huge weight had been lifted from his chest. He rushed to the front of your ship as you landed and the ramp opened, and saw you stumble out, dragging someone behind you. He froze when he realised the figure you were dragging was no less then Kylo Ren.

“y/n…” he managed to choke out, paralysed with fear. Forcing himself to step closer, he rushed to your side. “Is… is he dead?”

“I’m beginning to wish he was.” you muttered to yourself, and Finn suppressed a smile. “He’s unconscious, and I need to put him somewhere isolated.”

“y/n!” Rey yelled from the other side of the hangar, sprinting towards you. Finn had told her you had left to kill Kylo, and she had also been anxiously waiting your arrival. She threw her arms around you, and you wrapped an arm around her. “I was so scared you weren’t going to come back.”

“You and Finn,” you chuckled, pulling away slightly to grin weakly at your best friend. “Have so little faith in me.”

A crowd was beginning to form, whispers and gasps filling the air as more and more people recognised Kylo. You could see the uneasy expression on Rey’s face as she looked down at him.

“I need a gurney to carry him!” you yelled into the crowd, and everyone froze. “Now! Before he wakes up!”

The crowd began to move again, and a small team of people rushed out. Dumping Kylo onto the gurney, you took a deep breath and grabbed one of the workers.

“Finn and I will take care of him, in case he wakes up.” you instructed, and the man nodded. You looked over your shoulder back at Rey. “Go get Leia, and tell her to meet me in the prison.”

Rey scrambled off while you and Finn sprinted towards the basement of the Resistance base, rushing Kylo into a cell and strapping him to a chair. Tightening his constraints around his wrists, you slammed the door shut and locked it. The cell had a transparent wall, and another more fortified door in front of it. You closed the transparent wall, but left the second wall open so you could see Kylo. You slowly backed up onto the opposite wall and leaned against it, slowly sliding down and propping your elbows onto your knees. Finn sat next to you, wrapping a comforting arm around you.

“Are you okay?” he asked, and you nodded tiredly. He brushed the hair out of your eyes and gently kissed your forehead, and you leaned into him. He stroked your hair and the two of you sat in the corridor in silence until you heard your mom and Rey jog up. Your mom’s eyes were wide, and she bent down in front of you and pulled you into a tight hug.

“Never do something like that again.” she croaked, her voice muffled into your neck. “I thought I was going to lose you too.”

“Seriously guys,” you laughed lightly. “I did train with Luke, too. I’m not completely incompetent.”

Your mom pulled away from you and held your face in her hands, her eyes glittering.

“Of course, y/n.” she smiled, and you smiled back. She took a deep breath and whispered, “thank you for bringing him back home.”

“I just want to be a family again.” you whispered back, feeling your eyes filling with tears. Your mom squeezed your hand, nodding, before looking over her shoulder back the cell where Kylo was beginning to stir.

Summoning your courage, you stepped up to the window on the cell door and loudly banged on it with your lightsaber. Kylo jolted awake, his eyes flashing back and forth around the room. He attempted to stand before finally laying eyes on you.

“Sister?” he spluttered, angrily tugging at his restraints. “What have you done?”

“Brought you home.” your mom came up and stood next to you, placing her hand on your back. You could see something in Kylo’s expression soften at the sight of his mother, but he pushed it aside.

“This is not my home.” he spat, and you flinched. Finn reached out and grabbed your hand, and you held onto him tightly.

“You’ll learn to call it home.” you responded, before using the Force to slam the second metallic door shut and backing away. You could hear Kylo yelling from inside the isolated room, but it was muffled through the thick door.

“Do you truly think he can change?” Rey asked quietly as the four of you stood in the hallway. You looked up at your mom, who nodded firmly.

“He is my son.” Leia stared at the cell door, as if she were speaking to him. “Nothing will change that.”

—

“I’ll take it from here, soldier.” you waved at one of the soldiers guarding Kylo’s cell, and the young woman stepped to the side. “Go take a break, you deserve it.”

The woman smiled at you gratefully before turning down the corridor. Pressing your lips together, you slid open the metallic door and peeked inside. It had been two weeks since you had brought Kylo back to the base, and you had just released his constraints yesterday. He was pacing restlessly around the room now, running his hands through his long, dark hair. You remembered you used to braid each other’s hair when you were younger. You smiled at the memory, but your smile quickly faded when Kylo whipped around to face you.

“Whatever you are trying to do, y/n,” he hissed, stepping closer to you. “Will not work. I am loyal to the First Order. I am part of the Dark Side. I will finish-”

“What our grandfather started. Yes, I know.” you snapped, almost pressing your face against the glass as Kylo loomed over you. He stared at you through the glass, and you maintained the glare. “Do you really believe this is what he would’ve wanted? You trying to destroy the galaxy?”

“Supreme Leader Snoke-”

“Is using you!” you suddenly yelled, slamming your fists against the door. You could see Kylo flinch, and he closed his mouth. “Can’t you see that? He is trying to use you for your power, and you fell for it.”

“No.” Kylo stepped back, shaking his head. “You’re telling lies!”

“You’re just afraid to accept the truth.” you carried on, your eyes burning into his. “I know a small part of you knows that.”

“Dad…”

Your fury melted away when you heard Kylo’s whisper. He kneeled on the floor, holding his head in his hands. You could hear his breaths getting shaky, and you felt your hands beginning to tremble. When you had first confronted Kylo on Kamino, he didn’t even accept Han was his father. You tried not to get excited, but was he showing signs of improvement?

“Yes, what about dad?” you asked gently, kneeling down so you were at his level, pressing your palm against the glass.

“He… he told me the same thing.” Kylo’s voice was imperceptible, and you strained to listen. Unable to contain yourself any more, you burst into tears, leaning your back against the wall and staring at the ceiling. You could hear Kylo shift, and he moved to sit behind you, leaning his back to where yours was.

“He cared so much about you.” you spoke softly, staring ahead. “And you betrayed him.”

Kylo didn’t respond, and you sighed. Wiping away your tears, you stood up, and Kylo looked over his shoulder. You could’ve sworn you saw his eyes glistening with tears too.

“Do you have anything to say to me?” you asked, and Kylo paused, not looking at you. He finally stared ahead, and you bit your lip. You moved to the controls and shut the second door, not hearing what Kylo had whispered before the door shut.

“Don’t go.”

—

A month had passed, and you had similar encounters with Kylo. Your mom had gone down to visit him a few times, and each of her sessions lasted almost the whole day. You never went down with her, and never asked what she had talked to Kylo about.

“How is he?” Finn asked as you went into his room, his eyes full of concern. He was laying on the bed reading, and sat up when he saw you. He knew you were barely getting any sleep, and every time he saw you come up from the prison, your eyes were bloodshot from crying. You didn’t respond, and instead wrapped your arms around him and buried your face into his shoulder. He held you tightly, rubbing his hands up and down your back to comfort you.

“I just want my brother back.” your voice cracked, and Finn nodded.

“You said he seemed to be improving, right?” Finn asked as you pulled away slightly, and he moved his hands to your face and gently wiped your tears away.

“What’s stopping him from slipping back into the Darkness again if we bring him back to the Light?” you sniffed, and Finn held your chin up.

“You have to have faith in him, y/n.” Finn insisted, and you blinked at him in surprise. “And you need to accept that he is your brother.”

“That man in the prison is not my brother.” you shook your head violently. “Kylo Ren killed my brother and stole him from me!”

“And if you truly believe that, then you will never have your brother back.” Finn continued, and you froze. “Up until the day you brought him back to the base, you had always called him Ben. Even if you try to deny it, there was a small part of you who still hoped your brother would come home to you one day. I don’t know what happened on Kamino, y/n, but when you came back, that hope disappeared. But now is your chance. Help your brother.”

You didn’t respond, letting Finn’s words sink in. You felt another sob rising in your throat, and you almost laughed at yourself for how much you had been crying lately.

“I’m too tired to see him today.” you whispered, and Finn wrapped his arms around you and slowly lay down on the bed.

“That’s okay.” he smiled gently, reaching over to pull the covers over you. He kissed your forehead, and you held onto his hand as you slowly succumbed to the exhaustion waving over you.

—

“Ben?”

Kylo looked over his shoulder to see you sitting opposite the glass wall. He had spent the past week sitting in the corner and staring at the back wall, according to the guards. He looked back at the wall for a moment, before speaking.

“I never thought you would call me that again.” his voice rang out, and you edged closer to the wall.

“Well, that is the name I grew up knowing you as.” you stared at the floor, and Kylo got up. Sitting opposite you, you were able to study his face. He looked worn out and tired, as if something was drained from him. Yet, the Darkness you had previously sensed around him seemed to have lifted.

“It’s a shame we never got to meet the man I was named after.” Kylo remarked, and you looked at him with wide eyes. His statement seemed so innocuous, so human, so familiar. It was almost as if you weren't sitting in the Resistance prison facing the man you were struggling to accept as your brother.

“Remember the stories mom told us?” you responded, trying to maintain the conversation. “Obi-Wan Kenobi, you’re my only-”

“Hope.” Kylo finished, and for the first time since he had arrived, you felt yourself smiling. Kylo studied your facial expression before a small smile appeared on his lips. He almost looked recognisable, the signature smirk that your brother always wore. “Why are you trying so hard to help me, y/n?”

You paused, debating your answer. You were doing it for your parents. For the sake of the Resistance. Because the Force willed it. But you soon realised the answer was a lot simpler.

“Because you are my brother.” you spoke. You could feel yourself trembling but your voice was clear, and you could see your brother look at you with wide eyes. “And I love you. You are my family, and I will never leave my family behind.”

Before Ben could respond, you suddenly opened the door and flung your arms around your brother. He remained frigid, unsure of what to do, before finally hugging you back.

“Thank you, y/n.” Ben choked out, tears streaming down his face. “Thank you.”

—

It had been a week since you had hugged your brother and told him that you loved him. A week since you brought Ben in front of your mother, and you watched for the first time in years as your mom and brother embraced. A week since your brother finally looked recognisable to you. A week since you finally felt hope that you had your family back.

Finn and Rey were overjoyed when they heard the news, but you could still sense their fear when they faced Ben. You knew many people on the base were still afraid. Nevertheless, you knew everyone would slowly accept that Kylo Ren was no more.

You knocked lightly on Ben’s door and waited. He had the room next to yours, since he didn’t want to be closer to anyone else. Ben opened it, and smiled at you. His hair was messily styled, and he was no longer donned donned in dark robes. He seemed to sense your air of authority, and stood up straighter.

“Do you have a mission for me?” he asked eagerly, and you smiled. You knew he was eager to start working with the Resistance, and fight against what he had once stood for.

“Yes, I do.” your eyes glittered, and Ben could already sense what was coming next. “Mom and the others are already waiting in the conference room. It’s time to bring down Snoke, and end this once and for all.”

[heartbeatspearlsandlace]

Goodbye TVD ...

Okay, so we’ve seen the outcome. We’ve shed some tears. Some of us are okay, some of us are unhappy, and some of us are really happy with the outcome. I can see everyone’s perspectives and appreciate everyone’s thoughts. 

Now, while I am not super happy with the outcome of the finale, it does have some redeeming parts. I did really love all the Steroline moments we got. They were the most poignant and memorable parts of the entire episode, aside from Bonnie’s magic with her ancestors, which was great to see. 

I thought in general this entire episode was really rushed and and not properly pieced together which I think would have helped it significantly. I’m hoping for a lot of deleted scenes on the DVD to help piece things together. The whole Katherine plot just seemed too easy. She’s like there for barely 10 mins and they’ve already figured out how to solve getting rid of her. This used to take episodes to figure out with twists and turns in between. Katherine always had a plan B and she was smarter than this. She seemed too easy to take down. They should have fleshed this out a bit more, made us think - given us more time to feel one emotion before moving onto another. 

Elena was an afterthought TBH. I didn’t really care all that much that she came back. Her plot device was only to come back to be with Damon and make him happy. While the others were happy to see her back, nobody was really that overjoyed. I think they should have just focused on the core 4 - Stefan, Damon, Bonnie, and Caroline. 

I liked that in the end they left it open ended as you don’t know when they died or how, but it was also sort of confusing, I think the editing could have been better with those scenes to maybe make it clearer. 

While I understand the writers wanted to give that little nod to Klaroline, I don’t like the fact that it gave KC shippers hope for something to happen between the two after all the Steroline buildup. It sort of tarnishes the greatness that Steroline was, whether Klaus has become more of a hero than a villian on another show or not. 

I was kind of hoping that they would have killed someone else, but they went with the obvious kill ... Stefan. I am not shocked, I wouldn’t have been shocked if either brother had just died. Honestly, if you wanted to shock me, you should have made Matt the hero in the end. I could have respected that a lot more, and it honestly would have redeemed that character for me in a bigger way, because I have felt his character has been such a throw away over the 8 years, and they built his family history up so much this year, it was kind of a let down. 

I’m not sure what I’m supposed to read into Bonnie’s ending. I’m glad she’s living her life and seeing the world, but what are we supposed to take from that necklace full of blood she was holding? Is she contemplating becoming a vampire? Is she simply reminiscing over Enzo? How come we don’t see her die and re-unite with her family in the end. Granted we did get an epic witchy scene at the end. 

I loved the Steroline moments the most. I’m glad we brought the snow globe back and the fact that Stefan’s last lines to Elena were to tell Caroline that he would love her forever and that Caroline gets to hear that he heard her message. That was legit the most emotional moment of the entire episode for me. I will cherish those brief moments, but I would have loved just a small additional line about when she was ready, he’d be ready for her. That would have been the best way to sign it off. 

The ending wasn’t terrible. Don’t get me wrong, I love that Stefan got to reunite with Lexi, his best friend, and that Damon got to live a happy life with Elena and eventually died and found peace and found his brother, but I’m left feeling bad for Caroline because I don’t actually know when or if she will die and ever be reunited with him. I wish we could have gotten more from this. 

All in all, it wasn’t the worst ending to a show I’ve ever seen ... and I’m sure I’ll be disappointed again in the future, and I’m glad I know once and for all how this all goes down and that I can move on an obsess about something new now. 

I’m sure in time everyone that is upset will eventually come around. I get the message, I do. Life doesn’t end when you die ... it goes on ... Life isn’t about the final moments, it’s about the moments that led up to them. This is what this show has always been about ... life and death, and I guess if that’s what they were going for, they got that. I just wish there had been some subtle tweeks here and there and I would have loved it a lot more. There are character flaws here and there that some people will never forget, but those don’t bother me, it’s the subtle plot punctures that I wish could be fixed.

I will re-watch it all eventually ... I think I just need a little time. 

Thank you to all my fellow Steroline shippers. I’m going to be here ... this isn’t the end ... we’re all just moving on to more fandoms to freak out about. :) 

Steroline Forever!!!