#but he was kind of a jerk and being insensitive while I was clearly upset

[im-no-jedi]

so like I know everyone is up in arms about the supposed incoming romance between Bo-Katan and Din, and I get that (I’m personally indifferent)

but also I had a dream last night that I was Bo-Katan, and I was upset about something, and Din was there, and he literally came over and just kinda held me while I was on the verge of tears (in armor of course LOL)

all I’m saying is that if that man does anything remotely similar in the show, Bo better GET IT 👀

[vivithefolle]

Is there anyway you could share the entire livejournal essay about Hermione's reaction to Ron coming back in DH? The few paragraphs that you referred to in your recent answer sound extremely interesting.

[The “recent answer” that goes back to... last December. Oh my god I’m such an ass I left you hanging for so long I’m so sorry.]

Okay, okay, so here goes! KEEP IN MIND: I DIDN’T WRITE THIS. I FOUND THIS ON LIVEJOURNAL AND PICKED EVERYTHING THAT I LIKED ABOUT IT, AS WELL AS SOME COMMENTS THAT INTERESTED ME.

This “essay” was actually more of a “reading the books” thing with the person sharing their thoughts and ideas about it. The person was clearly a Snape fan, but they had sympathy for Ron too. I’ll try to formate it as accurately as I can remember it.

And now, here it is:

---

ORDER OF THE PHOENIX

[About Ron being made a prefect.] The essayist: It’s sad, but this probably is the first time Ron’s beaten Harry at something. And the last time.

A commenter: Ron's had a really difficult life, and this is the book that proved it for me. It made me a Ron fan. Just look at the interactions he has with Fred and George. This is commonplace. I know a lot of people don't like Ron, but just look at this book, this chapter especially. People have accused Ron of being lazy, unambitious, having no emotions, and being a big stupid boy. It's just not true. Look at how Fred and George needle him out of jealousy. Look at how they treat Percy. Imagine Ron having to grow up with two older brothers that will not hesitate to bother, torture and torment people that stand out or that get more attention than they do or that cross them. He saw it happening with Percy, so what's he going to learn? He'll learn to shut up unless he wants to have something happen to him. He'll learn that standing out positively is rewarded with cruelty. I can understand how Mrs. Weasley could not have fully protected him from those two. Not all the time, not while trying to also care for Ginny, keeping up with her other kids in school, and running the household. Worst of all, punishing F&G doesn't seem to do anything. Those two just don't care/they crave the attention, negative or positive. The best thing she could've done would be to give them no attention, but that's so against her nature that unfortunately she just fed the monsters. No emotions? Is it really difficult to understand that sensitivity wouldn't be encouraged in young Ron? He's got these two bullies that only want a reaction out of him. If he cries, it'll only encourage them. Any reaction is encouraging to them, but he has to go with anger. It's a survival thing- puff yourself up, make yourself look bigger than you are so the predator messes with you a little less. Look at the pride Ron's showing in his badge. The desire to do well is there. He likes the good feeling that comes with it, but he's been hard-wired since birth that it's better to be "middle of the pack". In later chapters, I know you'll have to point out the way the power makes Ron behave, so I just want to start on the defence now. It's all Ron knows. It's all he's been taught. It's a huge character flaw, but it's what makes him so human. Rowling did develop this in the book, but only accidentally. We're never going to get a good look at Ron's psychology except through these hints because it's, as usual, All About Harry. Ron's flawed, but I hope we remember that he has a reason why he's got those flaws. It doesn't excuse him, but it really explains him. So yeah... that's why I defend Ron.

...

“I’m not Percy,’ he finished defiantly.”

The essayist: Mmmm-hm. Ron feels nervous at the thought of his good fortune inspiring anger in someone and what's his first defence? "I'm not Percy"? Man, the evidence that the Twins' psychological torment has left lasting scars on Ron could not have been more obvious if he'd shielded himself and said "Please don't jinx me, Fred! ... I mean Harry. ... Shit, what'd I say?"

...

“Excellent,”  said  Ron,  with  a  kind  of  groan  of  longing,  and  he  seized the nearest plate of chops and began piling them onto his plate, watched wistfully by Nearly Headless Nick. “What  were  you  saying  before  the  Sorting?”  Hermione  asked  the  ghost. “About the hat giving warnings?” “Oh  yes,”  said  Nick,  who  seemed  glad  of  a  reason  to  turn  away  from  Ron,  who  was  now  eating  roast  potatoes  with  almost  indecent  enthusiasm.

The essayist: Ron’s not being very restrained with his eating, is he?

The commenter: I don't know if it's accidental or not, but this is one of those moments that I love, one of the tellings of Ron's home life via his behavior. In this scenario, he's totally a kitten who just got adopted to a house where he's the only cat. He's at a table with food, so his instinct is to eat as fast as he can or his siblings will yoink it. It doesn't help that there are many other people around, encouraging the "get the good stuff fast or you'll have to sate yourself on bread or whatever nobody wants". Ron is so much more human than Harry! How can Harry not be showing any signs of his "horrendous abuse" for eleven years? Well... I guess he sort of does when he buys all that stuff in his first year. And I guess Ron has to go back home every summer where it gets reinforced. But Harry goes back every summer, too... what the hell?

...

“What’s going on?” Ron  had  appeared  in  the  doorway.  His  wide  eyes  traveled  from  Harry,  who  was  kneeling  on  his  bed  with  his  wand  pointing  at  Seamus, to Seamus, who was standing there with his fists raised. “He’s having a go at my mother!” Seamus yelled. “What?” said Ron. “Harry wouldn’t do that — we met your mother, we liked her. . .” “That’s  before  she  started  believing  every  word  the  stinking  Daily  Prophet writes about me!” said Harry at the top of his voice. “Oh,”  said  Ron,  comprehension  dawning  across  his  freckled  face.  “Oh . . . right.” “You know what?” said Seamus heatedly, casting Harry a venomous look.  “He’s  right,  I  don’t  want  to  share  a  dormitory  with  him  anymore, he’s a madman.” “That’s out of order, Seamus,” said Ron, whose ears were starting to glow red, always a danger sign. “Out of order, am I?” shouted Seamus, who in contrast with Ron ‘was  turning  paler.  “You  believe  all  the  rubbish  he’s  come  out  with  about You-Know-Who, do you, you reckon he’s telling the truth?” “Yeah, I do!” said Ron angrily. “Then you’re mad too,” said Seamus in disgust. “Yeah?  Well  unfortunately  for  you,  pal,  I’m  also  a  prefect!”  said  Ron,  jabbing  himself  in  the  chest  with  a  finger.  “So  unless  you  want  detention, watch your mouth!”

The essayist: Note how Ron’s first reaction is to side with Harry.

The commenter: Not surprising because of the best friends thing (some might argue) but I say it's not surprising considering how Hermione and Ron were treating Harry like a ticking time bomb. Survival!

...

“Hello, Harry!” It was Cho Chang and what was more, she was on her own again. This was most unusual: Cho was almost always surrounded by a gang of giggling girls; Harry remembered the agony of trying to get her by herself to ask her to the Yule Ball. “Hi,” said Harry, feeling his face grow hot. At least you’re not covered  in Stinksap this time, he told himself. Cho seemed to be thinking along the same lines. “You got that stuff off, then?” “Yeah,”  said  Harry,  trying  to  grin  as  though  the  memory  of  their  last meeting was funny as opposed to mortifying. “So did you . . . er . . . have a good summer?” The moment he had said this he wished he hadn’t: Cedric had been Cho’s boyfriend and the memory of his death must have affected her holiday  almost  as  badly  as  it  had  affected  Harry’s.  .  . Something  seemed  to  tauten  in  her  face,  but  she  said,  “Oh,  it  was  all  right,  you  know. . .” “Is  that  a  Tornados  badge?”  Ron  demanded  suddenly,  pointing  at  the front of Cho’s robes, to which a sky-blue badge emblazoned with a double gold T was pinned. “You don’t support them, do you?” “Yeah, I do,” said Cho. “Have  you  always  supported  them,  or  just  since  they  started  winning the league?” said Ron, in what Harry considered an unnecessarily accusatory tone of voice. “I’ve supported them since I was six,” said Cho coolly. “Anyway . . . see you, Harry.” She  walked  away.  Hermione  waited  until  Cho  was  halfway  across  the courtyard before rounding on Ron. “You are so tactless!”

The essayist: So Harry meets Cho, makes a complete faux pas and reminds her of her dead boyfriend. Ron quickly steers the conversation away onto something more happy, i.e., Quidditch, before Cho can get too upset. Nevertheless, Ron is apparently the insensitive jerk around here, not Harry.

[If this reminds you of something, then yes, I absolutely took what the essayist was saying and elaborated on it. I confess, I am a dirty thief.]

...

“Well, I suppose he could’ve played better,” Harry muttered, “but it was only the first training session, like you said. . .” Neither Harry nor Ron seemed to make much headway with their homework  that  night.  Harry  knew  Ron  was  too  preoccupied  with  how  badly  he  had  performed  at  Quidditch  practice  and  he  himself  was having difficulty in getting the chant of “Gryffindor are losers” out of his head. [...] And so they worked on while the sky outside the windows became steadily darker; slowly, the crowd in the common room began to thin again.   At   half-past   eleven,   Hermione   wandered   over   to   them,   yawning. “Nearly done?” “No,” said Ron shortly. “Jupiter’s  biggest  moon  is  Ganymede,  not  Callisto,”  she  said,  pointing over Ron’s shoulder at a line in his Astronomy essay, “and it’s Io that’s got the volcanos.” “Thanks,” snarled Ron, scratching out the offending sentences.

The essayist: So Ron’s getting basic facts wrong in his essays.

The commenter: This is going to look so contrived, but I genuinely believe it, and maybe after these reviews, your standards for contrived have dropped enough for me to pass the bar :3 But... he's not putting in any effort. His ego can't take another beating at the moment (even punching bags have limits). Imagine it- after the Quidditch humiliation with his friend the Star Athlete (when he really was trying) he tries to distract himself by doing school work 1. which he isn't very good at anyway, 2. with the Star Athlete of Academics/Slytherin Spectator Crowd best friend Hermione there 3. with Hermione there to set it right anyway (it sounds as if Hermione isn’t so much correcting their essays as writing them herself). If he tries his best at this and then fails at that, Ron probably would start to consider suicide. It's self-preservation at this point to put in zero effort. This kind of fail is literally "I'm not trying because I have given up."

...

She  wrenched  her  bag  open;  Harry  thought  she  was  about  to  put  her books away, but instead she pulled out two misshapen woolly objects,  placed  them  carefully  on  a  table  by  the  fireplace,  covered  them  with  a  few  screwed-up  bits  of  parchment  and  a  broken  quill,  and  stood back to admire the effect. “What  in  the  name  of  Merlin  are  you  doing?”  said  Ron,  watching  her as though fearful for her sanity. “They’re  hats  for  house-elves,”  she  said  briskly,  now  stuffing  her  books  back  into  her  bag.  “I  did  them  over  the  summer.  I’m  a  really  slow  knitter  without  magic,  but  now  I’m  back  at  school  I  should  be  able to make lots more.” “You’re leaving out hats for the house-elves?” said Ron slowly. “And you’re covering them up with rubbish first?” “Yes,” said Hermione defiantly, swinging her bag onto her back. “That’s not on,” said Ron angrily. “You’re trying to trick them into picking  up  the  hats.  You’re  setting  them  free  when  they  might  not  want to be free.” “Of  course  they  want  to  be  free!”  said  Hermione  at  once,  though  her face was turning pink. “Don’t you dare touch those hats, Ron!” She left. Ron waited until she had disappeared through the door to the girls’ dormitories, then cleared the rubbish off the woolly hats. They  should  at  least  see  what  they’re  picking  up,”  he  said  firmly.  “Anyway  .  .  .”  He  rolled  up  the  parchment  on  which  he  had  written  the title of Snape’s essay. “There’s no point trying to finish this now, I can’t  do  it  without  Hermione,  I  haven’t  got  a  clue  what  you’re  supposed to do with moonstones, have you?”

The essayist: This doesn’t seem like a particularly open-minded and enquiring position to take, although I suppose that Hermione’s open-mindedness has always been something of an informed attribute.

The commenter: This trope among fans has got me riled up beyond belief because they use the "Hermione's word is gospel" thing to make unfair assumptions about other characters: Ron's "emotional range of a teaspoon" thing comes to mind, and right after that, Lavender supposedly being silly about believing Trelawney about her dead pet (Hermione never considered that maybe the thing Lavender was dreading was bad news from home or bad news about her pet). Regarding house elves: This is one case where the fans ought to have seen that Hermione was being very thoughtless as far as strategy. Ron has lived all his life up until this point thinking that there was no problem with house elves and she literally expects to be able to just tell him "it's wrong" and he's supposed to change instantly? Talk about your cultural insensitivity. In this case, maybe Ron knows better than you do, Hermione? You didn't even know about house elves until you were at least twelve (but more likely, she didn't know until this year). She must understand the concept of "he doesn't know it's wrong". That was how she defended Crookshanks when he was chasing Scabbers. ... Hey, Hermione thinks Ron's smarter than her cat. That's something, I guess.

...

The commenter: Competition is seriously the worst thing in the world for Ron. He's got wa-a-ay too much baggage. Do well so they'll love you. Do well so they'll notice you. If they notice you, you'll get praised. And tormented by Fred and George. Then if you fuck up, you'll have let everyone down. My brothers never let anyone down. That's the standard. Oh God, I can't live up to that. Which do I want to chose- being ignored or scorned? I could do well. Then I'll be good enough to be called "just like them"! JFC, when's it ever going to be "Good like Ron"? Chess. Literally everyone else has one thing they shine in, even Neville with his Botany and Dean with his art (and... and I'm going to ignore the fact that Hermione and Luna are the only two I can think of with non-appearance based special stuff... someone please help me out? I guess Tonks' doesn't really count as a shallow one because it makes her a master of disguise...)

...

HALF-BLOOD PRINCE

...

Ron gagged on a large piece of kipper. Hermione spared him one look of disdain before turning back to Harry.

The essayist: “Hermione spared [Ron] one look of disdain before turning back to Harry” pretty much sums up her relationships within the trio. It’s no wonder Ron’s so insecure and keeps worrying that she really fancies Harry.

...

“And you’ve been through all that persecution from the Ministry when they were trying to make out you were unstable and a liar. You can still see the marks on the back of your hand where that evil woman made you write with your own blood, but you stuck to your story anyway...”  “You  can  still  see  where  those  brains  got  hold  of  me  in  the  Ministry,  look,”  said  Ron,  shaking  back his sleeves.  “And  it  doesn’t  hurt  that  you’ve  grown  about  a  foot  over  the  summer  either,”  Hermione  finished, ignoring Ron.  “I’m tall,” said Ron inconsequentially.

The essayist: Ron’s so adorably pathetic here, the way he’s obviously feeling inferior to Harry and being ignored by his so-called friends. *hugs Ron*

...

When they left the Gryffindor table five minutes later to head down to the Quidditch pitch, they passed  Lavender  Brown  and  Parvati  Patil.  Remembering  what  Hermione  had  said  about  the  Patil  twins’  parents  wanting  them  to  leave  Hogwarts,  Harry  was  unsurprised  to  see  that  the  two  best  friends were whispering together, looking distressed. What did surprise him was that when Ron drew level with them, Parvati suddenly nudged Lavender, who looked around and gave Ron a wide smile. Ron blinked at her, then returned the smile uncertainly. His walk instantly became something more like a strut. Harry resisted the temptation to laugh, remembering that Ron had refrained from doing so  after  Malfoy  had  broken  Harry’s  nose;  Hermione,  however,  looked  cold  and  distant  all  the  way  down  to  the  stadium  through  the  cool,  misty  drizzle,  and  departed  to  find  a  place  in  the  stands  without wishing Ron good luck. 

The essayist: Hermione keeps belittling Ron and doing him down, and reacts quite strongly when he even so much hints at losing interest in her and showing attention to another woman. Can we say “abusive relationship”, anybody?

...

“Harry! Ginny!” Hermione was hurrying toward them, very pink-faced and wearing a cloak, hat, and gloves. “I got back a couple of hours ago, I've just been down to visit Hagrid and Buck--I mean Witherwings,” she said breathlessly. “Did you have a good Christmas?” “Yeah,” said Ron at once, “pretty eventful, Rufus Scrim—” “I've got something for you, Harry,” said Hermione, neither looking at Ron nor giving any sign that she had heard him. “Oh, hang on--password. Abstinence.”

The essayist: Wow, Hermione’s just being so childish here, ignoring Ron when he’s talking directly to her. Incidentally, Ron’s speaking to her like a normal friend, it’s Hermione who’s doing the blanking. Still, I’m sure this argument is all Ron’s fault for daring to go out with another girl. Hermione is totally blameless.

[Just in case: the essayist is being sarcastic, they’re pointing out the double standard of the HP fandom blaming Hermione’s immature behaviour on Ron.]

...

DEATHLY HALLOWS

...

“I think you’re right,” she told him. “It’s just a morality tale, it’s obvious which gift is best, which one you’d choose—” The three of them spoke at the same time; Hermione said, “the Cloak,” Ron said, “the wand,” and Harry said, “the stone.” They looked at each other, half surprised, half amused. “You’re supposed to say the Cloak,” Ron told Hermione, “but you wouldn’t need to be invisible if you had the wand. An unbeatable wand, Hermione, come on!” “We’ve already got an Invisibility Cloak,” said Harry. “And it’s helped us rather a lot, in case you hadn’t noticed!” said Hermione. “Whereas the wand would be bound to attract trouble—” “Only if you shouted about it,” argued Ron. “Only if you were prat enough to go dancing around, waving it over your head, and singing, ‘I’ve got an unbeatable wand, come and have a go if you think you’re good enough.’ As long as you kept your trap shut—” “Yes, but could you keep your trap shut?” said Hermione, looking skeptical. “You know, the only true thing he said to us was that there have been stories about extra-powerful wands for hundreds of years.” “There have?” asked Harry. Hermione looked exasperated: the expression was so endearingly familiar that Harry and Ron grinned at each other.

The commenter (?): Actually, I thought that Ron was proving the errors in the story. Because he’s right. The eldest brother didn’t die because the Elder Wand had corrupted him (like the One Ring). He died because he was an idiot. He died because he randomly decided to start blabbing about his new toy.

“You talk about wands like they’ve got feelings,” said Harry, “like they canthink for themselves.” “The wand chooses the wizard,” said Ollivander. “That much has always been clear to those of us who have studied wandlore.” “A person can still use a wand that hasn’t chosen them, though?” asked Harry. “Oh yes, if you are any wizard at all you will be able to channel your magic through almost any instrument. The best results, however, must always come where there is the strongest affinity between wizard and wand. These connections are complex. An initial attraction, and then a mutual quest for experience, the wand learning from the wizard, the wizard from the wand.”

The essayist: Harry’s wand has to think for and protect him because he’s too stupid and incompetent to think for and protect himself! Ollivander’s the expert, and he just admitted it. He said any halfway decent wizard can perform magic with almost any wand. The reason Harry could only work with the holly wand is because of the phoenix feather core it shares with Voldemort’s wand. That is, it wasn’t Harry doing the magic with Harry’s wand! It was the Voldemort soul piece! Once Harry was forced to use wands that didn’t have that core, the soul piece couldn’t do the work for Harry any more. He was forced to rely on his own magical powers and competence, which are clearly minimal. This is proven by his inability to do effective magic with any other wand. It’s also proven by an incident from Philosopher’s Stone. Remember when Harry was being chased by bullies and inexplicably found himself on top of the shed roof? That was the soul piece allowing him to fly like Voldy. Lily could slow her descent from a height, as if she had an invisible parachute, but that is not the same as flying, and we have no evidence she could fly. Only Voldemort and Snape fly without assistance! The evidence is overwhelming that I am right. How many spells can Harry do effectively? Expelliarmus, Expecto Patronum, Protego--that’s it. Even as a young adult, he is incapable of doing the basic healing or cleaning spells a young child should have down pat before going to Hogwarts. Of course, we’re told the Patronus spell is difficult and advanced, but who told us that? Remus Lupin, friend of Harry’s father, sycophant, and notorious liar, particularly when it comes to flattering Harry. Recall Lupin also said Snape didn’t like James because Snape was envious of Potter Sr.’s Quidditch prowess, and we know that was a lie. Given this evidence, anything Lupin says that cannot be confirmed by an independent source, especially regarding the Potters, should be dismissed out of hand. True, Hermione has trouble with the Patronus spell, and she’s super-competent. Doesn’t that prove it’s a very difficult spell? Not at all. To take an example from a different field, Beethoven was a virtuoso organist, the greatest pianist of his day, one of the greatest pianists in history, and probably the greatest improvisational musician ever. But he was only a decent violinist. Everybody has areas of weakness, no matter how good they are overall. In addition, Hermione is very gullible where authority figures are concerned. If a teacher tells her, “The Patronus is a very difficult, advanced spell that many people can’t ever master,” she’ll believe that, which may create a self-fulfilling prophecy. A couple of years ago, another DTCL member and I facetiously suggested Harry was less intelligent than his wand. We didn’t know we were right. It rarely happens, but this is an occasion when I would have preferred to be wrong.

...

If only there was a way of getting a better wand... And desire for the Elder Wand, the Deathstick, unbeatable, invincible, swal-lowed him once more... They packed up the tent next morning and moved on through a dreary shower of rain. The downpour pursued them to the coast, where they pitched the tent that night, and persisted through the whole week, through sodden landscapes that Harry found bleak and depressing. He could think only of the Deathly Hallows. It was as though a flame had been lit inside him that nothing, not Hermione’s flat disbelief nor Ron’s persistent doubts, could extinguish. And yet the fiercer the longing for the Hallows burned inside him, the less joyful it made him. He blamed Ron and Hermione: Their determined indifference was as bad as the relentless rain for dampening his spirits, but neither could erode his certainty, which remained absolute. Harry’s belief in and longing for the Hallows consumed him so much that he felt isolated from the other two and their obsession with the Horcruxes. [...] As the weeks crept on, Harry could not help but notice, even through his new self-absorption, that Ron seemed to be taking charge. Perhaps because he was determined to make up for having walked out on them, perhaps because Harry’s descent into listlessness galvanized his dormant leadership qualities, Ron was the one now encouraging and exhorting the other two into action. [...] But not until March did luck favor Ron at last.

The essayist: MARCH! That’s right, ladies and gentlemen. The first fifteen pages of this chapter cover three months, and during that entire time, Harry Potter does nothing, nothing, but sit on his ass fantasizing about the Elder Wand and trying to connect with his Voldie-soul mate. Oh, wait. He also tries to open the snitch so he can get the stone out of it. (Nothing gay about that, either.) I wish he’d succeed in that, too. Maybe he’d swallow the stone, and it would end up in his scrotum. He sure needs something that works down there. Harry doesn’t have the right to bail out on his society like this. He can’t have it both ways. He can’t have the adulation that goes with being Mr. Boy-Who-Lived-Chosen-One-Wizarding-World-Savior and abdicate the responsibilities that go along with those titles and that adulation. Look at what happens in this chapter: Harry becomes obsessed with finding and uniting the Hallows, so much so that he withdraws from his friends, bails out on the job his idol Dumbledore gave him, and spends all his time brooding and trying to connect with the Dull Lord. In other words, he acts clinically depressed. Ron and Hermione were exposed to the same information Harry was, but they didn’t become obsessed/depressed. Ron was mildly interested in the Super-Wand, but not enough to distract him from the Horcrux hunt. Hermione dismissed the whole DH story as nonsense and continued following Dumbestbore’s orders. So why weren’t they tempted?

...

The essayist: Harry opens the locket using Parseltongue--interesting that this never occurred to him before now--and two ghostly figures emerge. They’re Voldie-versions of Harry and Hermione, and they articulate Ron’s worst fears: “Least loved, always, by the mother who craved a daughter...Least loved, now, by the girl who prefers your friend...Second best, always, eternally overshadowed...” I’ll say it again: When you’re right, you’re right. The evidence is overwhelming that Molly Weasley treated Ron the worst of all her children. And if Rowling doesn’t want us to ship HP/HG, she needs to quit throwing them together and making them leaders, with Ron either in the background or absent entirely. JKR obviously wants us to automatically dismiss certain statements just because they’re made by “bad guys” such as Voldemort and Rita Skeeter. There are two problems with this: (1) The “lies” make perfect sense, far more sense than what we’re supposed to believe. (2) Even pathological liars sometimes tell the truth, typically when it won’t hurt their own interests to do so. For those of us who live in what cartoonist Garry Trudeau calls “the reality-based community,” the evidence is what matters, not what we’re told by authority figures. Those of us in the higher stages of spiritual development are funny that way.

...

The essayist: Well, whose fault is that, Ms. Rowling? You’re the one who’s spent the last four books making Ron dumber and dumber, depriving him of any meaningful activity, while you shoved Harry and Hermione into increasingly dominant roles.

The commenter: Are we supposed to look down on Ron now so that we can condemn him for leaving Harry and Hermione? Because if so, then that’s just unfair. Every time Ron tries to come up with an idea, Hermione criticizes him or shoots him down. And the twins have done a fine job of intimidating Ron into remaining mediocre and modest so that he doesn’t remind them of Percy, so what is he supposed to do? How is he supposed to come up with ideas when he’s surrounded by people who basically tell him to shut up and sit down?

The essayist: Just then, Hermione comes out of the tent with cups of tea, with tears running down her face and looking terrified her “friend” is going to curse her with her own wand.

The commenter: So, Hermione will snarl at Ron all day long, but cower in fear when Harry gets mad. Is she projecting herself onto Harry and assuming that just because *she’s* quick to hex people who anger her (Ron, Marietta, etc.), Harry will do the same to her?

The essayist: The evidence is overwhelming that Molly Weasley treated Ron the worst of all her children.

The commenter: And blatantly showed favoritism to Harry while snarling at Ron in the same breath. Of course, Horcrux!Tom doesn’t bring that up, because JKR would have to admit that there might be something wrong with Molly favoring Harry the way she does. The essayist: Hermione acts so crazy Harry has to put a protection charm between her and Ron.

The commenter: Yeah…sorry, it’s not “slapstick” anymore when somebody actually has to stop her from hitting Ron. When Harry feels that the situation is dangerous enough that his intervention is necessary. That’s not funny. That’s a true-crime episode. What gets me is that Hermione's tantrum lasts for days. It goes on for several pages into the next chapter. She doesn't start acting normal again until she comes up with the idea of visiting Xeno Lovegood. The essayist: Hermione tells Ron she still hasn’t ruled out attacking him with birds again.

The commenter: *flatly* So, all of the fans who cooed about how “great” it was for Hermione to show “girl power” by sending Ron to the hospital wing in HBP or breezily dismissed the scene as just tired teenage melodrama? Can put a sock in it. Hermione has clearly learned nothing, JKR clearly feels that that scene was funny, and at no point are we supposed to think that Hermione is an abuser. Even though, if the genders were reversed, fans would be calling for Ron’s head on a platter if he dared lay a finger on Hermione. No. This isn’t funny. This isn’t charming. Hermione hurt Ron so badly in HBP that he had to go to the hospital wing. And she tried to repeat the damage she caused here. Is she going to attack him with birds again after they get married? Is she going to do it in front of their children? Will it be “cute” and “funny” then? No, if a man is an abusive monster for losing his temper and trying to hurt his girlfriend, then Hermione is an abusive monster for losing her temper and trying to hurt her boyfriend. Not only did Hermione land Ron in the infirmary with the first attack, but she wants to do it again at a time when they are on the run. She will NOT be able to take an injured Ron to Hogwarts infirmary, nor to St. Mungos. In other words - she intends for him to remain injured and stick with them while camping, or else he must apparate away while injured, risking another splinching so he could be healed.

...

The essayist: Ron and Harry go back to the tent, and Harry fades into the background so as not to interfere with the lovers’ reunion. That’s a mistake. After Harry wakes Hermione, she shows her delight at Ron’s return by--attacking him? She punches him over a dozen times while yelling at him and screaming for her wand from Harry. Remember last chapter, when I talked about how immature Hermione is? Here’s your proof.

[The essayist quotes an article that I haven’t been able to find, but paraphrased: it speaks of a father who came to pick up his 4 y/o daughter from daycare, a little later than usual, and the daughter reacted by punching and hitting her father, upset at his being late. Additional read:  “The parents must know that physical aggression is a common yet natural problem faced by toddlers.”]

The essayist: So there you have it: Hermione Granger, know-it-all supergirl, is so immature she acts like a preschool child when the boyfriend she’s been missing finally returns. I’m not suggesting she has a father-daughter relationship with Ron; this kind of anger is found in other relationships, too. What I am saying is that her way of expressing her anger is appropriate for a very young child. While adults may certainly feel this kind of anger and desire to hit when reunited with a loved one under similar circumstances, they don’t act it out. That restraint is what separates adults from children. Hermione acts so crazy Harry has to put a protection charm between her and Ron. I frankly found her behavior so out of control as to suggest mental instability. She engages in two full pages of histrionics before throwing herself into a chair, sitting so tensely I’m surprised the circulation isn’t cut off to her arms and legs. She remains in a bratty snit until the end of the chapter, which is another six pages.  Hermione is still pouting the next morning. I’m wondering if her real problem is not that Ron left, but that she didn’t. Is she angry at him because he had the guts to admit they were blowing it and take a time out, while she just kept trailing along after Harry like a lost house elf? I think she’s definitely mad because she’s always controlled Ron and their relationship. How dare he assert his independence of her! Who does he think he is? Her equal? In an AU, maybe. This is called the Potterverse after all, not the Ronverse.  Hermione’s having a bad month. First Ron runs out on them; then she saves Harry’s life, but he’s an ungrateful jerk about it; then Harry asserts his independence; then Ron comes back but doesn’t grovel sufficiently for her taste. All this mistreatment is going to give her the idea she’s just a normal character and not an Author’s Darling.   While Ron was gone, he was captured by bad guys called Snatchers, who are bounty hunters for Voldemort. In getting away, he got a spare wand, which he gives to Harry. Of course, it doesn’t work as well as Harry’s “real” wand, so Harry’s still in a snit about that, and with Hermione in a snit, too, they’re a cheerful bunch. Honestly, I don’t know why Ron puts up with these two. The Hs are so spoiled and self-centered, they deserve each other, but I don’t think this is what HP/HG shippers mean when they proclaim the two as an OTP. Sane, normal Ron doesn’t deserve either one of them. Run, Ron! Run while you still can!

...

The essayist: As an interesting aside, ròn is the Celtic word for seal. In Druid lore, seals represent love, longing, and dilemma. No more appropriate totem animal could be imagined for this boy whose sense of selfhood is undermined by his longing for love from a rejecting mother and inadequate father, and who, like the selchie wives of folklore, is faced with the impossible choice of being who he truly is and being rejected, or denying the best part of himself to gain love. Ron’s intelligence and independence threaten his insecure wife (and best friend), just as the selchie’s identity as a seal-woman threatens her human husband; Ron imprisons himself by hiding who he is so the Hs can feel smart and in charge, just as the selchie’s human husband imprisons his wife by hiding her sealskin in a trunk.

[dreaming-about-fanfictions]

Years Ago - Jaskier x Reader

Summary: Jaskier is your childhood best friend and first love. When he leaves, you stay behind heartbroken. Years later, he comes back to you and you have to ask yourself if you still love him the way you used to.

Request by: a lovely anon. “Can you please write an angst/romantic Jaskier x Fem!Reader fic, where the reader grew up with Julian/Jaskier, as childhood friends. Their paths divide when you both come of age, your fates seemingly never to meet again, until they meet again years later, and it turns out their feelings for each other remain the same, as they did all those years ago.“

A/N: This turned out a lot more angsty than I wanted it to be :D I hope you like it anyways! <3 Thank you for the request!

Pairing: Jaskier x fem!Reader Words: 1766 Warnings: angst, hinting towards sex

It is fully dark in the small chamber. The curtains are drawn shut and the candles stopped burning hours ago. The silence is only sometimes disturbed by soft breathing and occasional snores coming from the bed.

You sit on the other side of the room at a wooden table, only wearing a light robe. Thoughts and worries keep you awake and you are too restless to lie down. At least this is what you tell yourself. Perhaps it just suffocates you being so close to him, feeling his warmth, smelling his familiar scent. The faint memory of how it was to be around him and not feel this way lingers somewhere in your mind, you know it.

You’re unable to see him and you are grateful for it. It hurts too much. Shifting uncomfortably on your seat, you grab the end of your robe, fiddling with it.

When Julian – or rather Jaskier, the name he goes by now – walked into the tavern this evening, you dropped the glass of wine in your hand. It shattered into a thousand pieces, the red liquid spilling everywhere. The sound made him turn around and you heard your boss cursing at you. Frozen in your spot, you stared at him. He recognized you at once, a big smile appearing on his face. A smile that was so well-known to you, it physically pained you.

You grew up with Jaskier. He was your childhood best friend and for years it had been him and you against the world. As you became older, your feelings turned into something else. Something deeper. The boy with the bad jokes and beautiful voice turned into your first love – and then he left.

“Y/N?”

You flinch when you hear his voice, whispering your name.

“What’s wrong?” Jaskier asks when you don’t answer him. “Why are you not in bed?”

“I can’t sleep,” you reply truthfully.

“Nightmares?” He wonders.

You shake your head before remembering that it’s too dark for him to see. “No, just … thoughts.”

“What kind of thoughts?”

“Thoughts about us.”

You hear a blanket being pushed away and then Jaskier gets out of bed. The wooden floor creaks when his feet touch the ground. “It’s too damn dark in here,” he mumbles and opens the curtains. Moonlight illuminates the room. You lift your head and your eyes meet his. He looks worried, a troubled expression on his beautiful face. Deep down, he knows what you mean by your words. 

So Jaskier kneels down in front of you, taking your head into his and squeezing it softly. “I had to go. You know that,” his voice is soft with affection.

You give a half shrug. “Do I?”

He lets out a sigh. “Y/N.”

You wonder if he understands what this is truly about. He can’t possibly think you’re upset simply because he left when the truth was so much more complicated. Waiting for him to say something, you get disappointed and slightly frustrated. “You left without so much of a word.” It’s a simple statement but it floats heavily throughout the dark room.

Jaskier lowers his head. “I’m sorry.” The words sound honest to you yet they make you want to punch him.

“Sorry doesn’t cut it,” you retort.

“It seemed to have one hour ago,” Jaskier attempts to lighten the mood and smiles.

Not knowing what to say, you pull back your hand.

He clears his throat, realizing that the joke was misplaced. “That was insensitive, I apologize.”

“You’re still an idiot.”

Jaskier sighs again. “I know,” he pauses shortly before adding: “Y/N, don’t believe for a second that leaving you wasn’t the hardest thing I ever had to in my whole entire life. It hurt me so much and I thought not saying goodbye would make everything easier.”

None of this makes any sense. It hurt him? Well, how does he think you felt and in what alternate reality does leaving people behind like that make anything better?! 

“It didn’t.”

“Yeah,” he mumbles. “I figured that out pretty quickly which left me with terribly terribly ashamed. Y/N,” he tries to reach for your hands again but you clench your fists around the hem of your robe. “No words can ever describe how sorry I am.”

For a while, you just stare at him. “I still love you, y’know,” you finally say with simple directness.

There it is again. The smirk that had always managed to wrap you right around his finger. Jaskier places a hand on your knee and it takes every ounce of strength inside of you not to flinch.

„No, you don’t understand,” you continue. “It’s an awful thing. I should have gotten married long ago. I could have had kids by now, a loving husband, a life.” 

A flicker of sadness appears is seen in his eyes for a split second. Your words feel like a punch in the gut to him (and they were meant to do just that). “Then why didn’t you?” He asks somewhat brittle.

“Because I love you!” It blurts out of you. “I love you! In fact, I never stopped loving you. A small part of me always hoped that you’d come back one day.”

“That small part was right, apparently.” The sadness in his eyes is now replaced by affection. “Not one day has gone by since I left where I didn’t think about you. I love you too, Y/N.”

For years, you had dreamed about him coming back to and saying those words. In your fantasies, they swept you from your feet and the two of you would go on to have a long and happy life together. Now he is here, saying exactly what you thought you wanted to hear and they cause nothing more than pain. Why can’t you forgive him? You love him, it’s true, so why not try this again?

When he had walked into the tavern, you were overcome by emotions. It confused you. There was happiness, excitement, anger, and resentment – a tangling mess inside your mind. So you did what every self-respecting woman would do: you went to bed with the man who hurt you most. The initial shock passed after he fell asleep next to you and all you were left with were more troubles.

“How long until you leave again?” You are scared of the answer.

“Two days.”

You give a bitter laugh. Of fucking course. Did you really think his answer would be something else?

Jaskier sees how your expression changes and in a sad attempt of trying to make you feel better, he announces: “I’ve actually come back to ask you to accompany me. Come with me.”

The laughter gets stuck in your throat and you look at him with widened eyes.

“Y/N,” he continues, now that he has your attention. “At the risk of sounding like a jerk – I will never be able to stay in just one place. A life here with two kids and a tiny house will never be enough for me.”

Ouch. “You do sound like a jerk.”

He ignores your comment. “Yet being without you hurts. You’re the one that got away. The one that should’ve stayed with me,” his voice grows soft again. “That’s why I want you to come with me. I remember a girl who was eager to leave this town behind and see the world with me.”

That girl died when you left me, the thought rushes through your mind.

“You say you love me,” you pause shortly. “Yet your love is not enough for you to stay. To build a life together with me.”

“I want to build a life with you!” Jaskier exclaims. He becomes more and more frustrated with you and this discussion as well. “Just not here!”

You shake your head. “You ask me to give everything up, my life and –“

“You just said you had no real life!”

“No married life,” you correct him sharply. “I have family here and friends, people who love me.”

“I love you.”

“Not enough it seems.”

“It’s not fair. You’re not fair.”

“No, what’s not fair is that you left years ago without even saying goodbye!” You spit out and stand up so abruptly that your chair tips over backwards. Surprised, Jaskier gets up from his knees as well and takes a few steps back. “No explanation, no nothing. Is this how you treat the person you love?!”

He doesn’t reply.

“It was so painful,” a tear rolls down your face and you wipe it off angrily. “Being left behind like that. Not even a damn letter.”

“I’m sorry.” His voice is barely a whisper.

“You said that,” you croak.

“Y/N …” He takes a step towards you but you back up against the window, causing him to stop in his tracks.

“We changed, Jaskier. It’s been too long.”

You don’t want to say these words. Yet you feel like there is no other way. This relationship has caused you nothing but pain and you can’t go on like this. It will break you and leave you a shattered mess.

“It’s not,” Jaskier says sternly. “We still love each other. The feelings we shared are still there and I know that you didn’t deserve the way I treated you.”

“Continue to treat me.”

He blows out his cheeks and closes his eyes. When he opens them again and starts speaking, every syllable is filled with desperation. “I will do everything it takes so you can forgive me one day. Everything.”

“Good luck trying that in two days.”

“Y/N …”

You look at him and see how much he’s hurting. The regret, the hatred for himself for how he screwed everything up is so clearly written on his face. You take a deep breath. “Go, please.” 

“What?” He swallows hardly.

“I want you to go,” you repeat firmly. It’s the best for both of us, you try to justify it in your mind.

Jaskier doesn’t move at first, begging you silently to take it back. He wants to stay, needs to stay – but you remain quiet. So he bends down to collect his clothes and slowly puts them on again. The silence is almost unbearable. When he is done, he walks to the door and his hand trembles slightly when he reaches for the door handle.

You watch him, tears running down your face. Yet no whimper, no cry leaves your mouth. 

“I meant what I said,” Jaskier turns around one last time. “I love you and I will fight for you.”

“Goodbye, Jaskier.”

The door closes behind him.

***

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[unproduciblesmackdown]

it’s wild to me that there are such stubborn widespread concepts re: what jared’s like and what the nature of his relationship with evan is like, despite these concepts being like.......often almost directly contradicted by canon, especially since most of them stem from that “first day” exchange which is very brief so like, is it That difficult to reflect on it a moment? idk

like okay already there’s the idea that evan is always chasing after jared while jared evades him or brushes him off. literally jared’s first appearance is when he walks up to evan and initiates conversation. after that you’ve got evan presumably being the one videocalling jared, who is accepting these chats even though evidently he doesn’t even know Why evan’s calling him when he accepts.....i guess we can assume evan approached jared before sincerely me and to get him and alana in the same place during disappear, but then in act 2 right from the start we see how it’s jared who’s trying to make these overtures to hang out which evan is brushing off. i would not absorb all this info and come away from it with the idea that evan has been desperately pursuing jared and crushed by constant rejection all along

the idea that evan and jared’s interactions are just made up of jared constantly insulting evan and trying to beat him into the dust.....like yeah jared teases evan but he’s still always trying to connect with him, he’s not just showing up to emotionally wedgie him and shove him into his locker, which is a perfect segue into how william “helped develop the writing of the charcter” roland repeatedly says that jared is like a version of him who hadn’t learned to be nicer in early high school and that why he (will) was ruder to people was after being shoved in a locker and feeling the need to Reinvent himself to be un-shove-in-a-lockerable and that he teased people without much thought but didn’t even know it was coming off mean until adults in his life sat him down to talk about it..........segue back into how jared’s bluntness / honesty coming off insensitive sometimes or whatever isn’t the same as oh he’s just obviously cruel and hates evan like....c’mon

and like “jared never cared about evan” like, what. his whole entrance line about jerking off was really just about asking evan how his summer went lol......and then he does attentively listen to evan’s whole story, and doesn’t talk about himself until evan asks him........and like, people will act like it’s so mean of him to have been flippant about evan breaking his arm or whatever which like, yeah it sucks to break your arm but jared can hardly be expected to guess to Real Story there

where’s the idea that evan has just been under jared’s thumb this whole time being mercilessly pushed around by him and that if only he had the nerve to stand up to jared’s tyranny he could unfriend him..........if i’ve said it once i Will say it a thousand times more, jared is worse at standing up for himself or handling confrontation than anyone else in the show, including evan. there’s never any signs that evan is particularly intimidated by jared.......we see jared letting evan have his way up until jared tries to put his foot down during gfy way into act 2 and it doesn’t even work and jared just has to bail again b/c he’s too upset and canon doesn’t tell us they ever interacted in the next year and a half haha cool.....anyways and sincerely me is ENTIRELY about evan and jared and their relationship and what do you know it’s the most fun song that’s willing to not be completely solemn and evan and jared are both enjoying themselves by the end once they’ve developed their email rapport and it’s Just evan and jared and evan is clearly more comfortable than we ever otherwise see him and is just speaking his mind and giving jared a lil smack and asserting what he wants and jared is just rolling with it like. yeah no jared’s just got evan in a figurative headlock the whole time sure

the idea that jared and connor would always be at each other throat’s like uhhh??? we see them have One interaction, in which jared fires off with the same level of Teasing Observation he just threw at evan so like, for all we know that was jared’s version of a friendly overture. and when connor pointedly doesn’t React, we have jared neutrally explaining It Was A Joke? and all connor has to do is solidify his negative reaction and jared’s bailing b/c he wasn’t actually picking a fight and nothing about this suggests that he was trying / expecting to get a negative reaction from connor. i always take the way jared’s talking about Connor Is Off The Shits Remember When He Threw A Printer is that jared was probably especially wary of connor. and we see jared Never really assert himself / stand up for himself so why would he just be jumping at the chance to piss off this guy he’s probably especially intimidated by

the idea that jared is always rejecting evan’s Friendship when all we know of the matter is that, after jared’s the one to approach evan to talk, evan is all “we’re friends” and jared’s all “*family friends” as if that’s saying they’re Not friends at all.......and then later on we learn that evan apparently spent all of junior year saying that he had no friends, a year in which jared presumably existed, and then evan says “you don’t have any other friends” to jared which is meaner than anything jared does to him in the show and also implies that yes he does think that jared considers him a friend so like

the “jared always avoids evan b/c evan’s uncool and jared doesn’t wanna seem uncool by association” like uhhh again, jared approaches evan in the hallway, so that’s kind of the antithesis to “jared sprints away as evan walks towards him in the hope of a nice chat”............and frankly there’s like not much chance that jared even has to worry about who sees him as Popular or not like......he has no friends

or the idea that jared doesn’t take anything seriously just b/c he delivers things humorously like.......a lot of the time the Comic Relief that jared provides isn’t because what he said was even necessarily a joke, it’s just inherently Funny to swing from a completely seriously-toned dramatic scene right to jared’s reaction, or he Does deliver something lightly / casually but it’s not necessarily just like haha a punchline jared’s not actually thinking about any of this stuff......you even get the moment that evan says jared thinks “this is all a big joke, but it’s not, it’s important,” and jared gets more annoyed at suggesting that none of the stuff he’s been feeling/thinking has been Serious and so just slightly comes for evan’s life

yeah idk just these so-common Notions about jared are like, based on nothing, if not directly contradicted by canon and like. lord

[fuanteinasekai]

Ur posts made me realize just how unintentionaly insensitive Taki is about Natsume especially compared to Tanuma & how the anime keeps erasing it. Tanuma who's as slender as Natsume,just taller, was added to Takis episode where Kai thought Natsume was after him & his friends called him names like beanpole which depressed Natsume. Tanuma & Taki laughed at him but in the manga it was only Taki. Tanuma however in Shibata chapter was: Natsume is not a beanpole! at same time Natsume defended him too

Feel better soon! A moment toned down & cut in half is, 1st time Natsume teased Tanuma & Tanuma teased right back in ch 66-67. Anime is more gentle,Natsume is sweet & Tanuma is mostly suprised & little embarassed. Manga Natsume's expression is priceless, SMIRK, & Tanuma's too, "somehow that really pisses me off". Then Tanuma's teasing, his HEH~ looked very pleased that the girl run away from Natsume & he also blushed along with Natsume who was flustered.Ofc they cut it, but its about women too?

Hello, nonnies, I hope it’s okay I put these together! I felt they were sort of related.

First of all, I forgot but you’re right, Nonny1! Taki really did think that was hilarious. She’s literally shaking, trying to hold in her laughter. At least she tried? But this is a great example of how Taki was never the delicate, sensitive flower the anime tries to make her. Cookies ≠ delicate.

Kai is apologizing here for calling Natsume “a pervert, a beansprout, and a cutting board.” (The depression part was earlier.) It’s really kinda genuinely terrible? Tanuma has teased Natsume before, so I don’t want to completely rule out him laughing at something this absurd, but you’re right he also got offended at a very similar insult: Shibata’s ひょろひょろ is a variation on Kai’s friends’ ひょろ男. The former means “tall and skinny” in a gangly, awkward way, and the second means the same thing but attached to the word for “male”. So basically, “scrawny” vs “scrawny-boy.” This is what was translated as “beanpole.” It’s actually quite sweet that they got offended on each other’s behalf, isn’t it? Natsume is very sensitive to the “skinny” remarks, but he was more upset at the idea that they were directed at Tanuma.

Interestingly, I feel like this story was actually peak Natsume/Taki. It had that scene where Natsume was watching Kai with Taki, and wondered whether he would “ever come to care for people earnestly” or “ever be able to make a family.” He clearly doesn’t come to any conclusion about who he would do that with, but given the context of Taki and Kai, it’s easy to see how it might be subtextually pointing at Taki as future wife.

But that never goes anywhere, and the further the manga gets along after this, the more Taki sort of… retreats relative to Tanuma.

In fact, the timing of this is really interesting to me, because it’s literally the very next story after Tanuma’s special. In the author’s notes for that special, Midorikawa-sensei describes the way Tanuma and Natsume don’t exactly behave according to plan:

久しぶりに田沼の話です。もうすっかりつうかあの中になってると思って描き始めてみたら思っていたより二人ともモジモジしていました。笑ってあたりさわりのない話をする夏目は描き慣れているのですが咄嗟の判断をしそこなう夏目が描けて楽しかったです。妖に関わってる時の夏目は田沼のところに来ないので、必然的に描く機会の少ないキャラクターですが描けてよかったです。

“It’s been a while since we had a Tanuma story. I thought [Tanuma and Natsume] would already be on completely the same wavelength, but when I tried to start drawing [the story] they were both more shy than I thought. I’m used to drawing a Natsume who smiles and takes care not to offend, but I enjoyed being able to draw a Natsume who makes bad snap judgments. Natsume doesn’t visit Tanuma when he’s involved with yōkai, so I was glad to be able to draw a character that I inevitably don’t get many chances to draw.”

Yes, you read that correctly. She literally started the story without realizing how awkward they were going to be. Makes me wonder what the original story was going to be. Oh, and モジモジ means “hesitant” or “restlessly unable to do things one wants to, due to reserve or embarrassment.” I thought “shy” was more natural in this context. It’s very similar to the concept of そわそわ “restlessness” in that trolly post-Omibashira author’s note, but more appropriate for boys who haven’t known each other long. Also, the “not on the same wavelength” is the same. So really, that later note is basically an update saying “STILL AWKWARD. STILL NOT ACKNOWLEDGING WHY.”

Anyway.

Considering the timing, and considering how much the above reads like a crush, part of me can’t help but wonder if the Taki and Kai scene was an experiment by Midorikawa-sensei to see whether she could get another character to compete with that tone without forcing it. (She couldn’t.)

@Nonny2: Thank you! I’m feeling much better now. 

I hadn’t re-watched the whole ep for comparison, so I had missed that the second part was gone. So much lost! Manga Tanuma almost looks like he thinks it’s cute that Natsume can’t handle children, though technically he’s snerking. It’s the same face (and sound) Natsume makes when he goes “pfft” at Taki’s cross-dressing photo.

For what it’s worth, the dialog in that “You’re really popular, Tanuma” scene is actually the same, though as you say the anime softened up the delivery. Anime Natsume almost looks shy, but Manga Natsume looks evil! lol The scanlators and the subtitlers just handled the translation differently. (The official manga translation… didn’t even try. ) A couple of things: 

The word Natsume uses for “popular” is モテる. This is slightly untranslatable as there is no direct English equivalent. The literal meaning is similar to “you’ve really got it” and it denotes a specific type of popularity. There’s a character in another manga who translates this himself as being “BIG.” It’s a really funny scene where it’s translated this way, but the point is モテる is kind of a rock star sort of popularity. It’s generally associated with the opposite sex due to heteronormativity, but even outside of that it can refer to non-sexual popularity as long as there’s a suggestion that people make a fuss over you. In this context, I think it’s clear that Natsume is pulling on the heteronormative meaning because, well… He’s basically saying “You’re really popular with the ladies!” except the ladies are Tanuma’s aunt and a grandmotherly figure. Little snot. haha

The part where the translations diverge is 腹立つ which literally means, er, your stomach is rising. “Get angry” is the default translation (think of the way your stomach clenches when something sets you off), but in context I think it makes more sense to go with “to be offended.” 

So:

“You’re really popular with ladies, Tanuma.” [Evil Smirk]“Uggghhhh. That’s kind of offensive.” *Note “ugh” is actually “crap” but it doesn’t flow as well in English.

It’s basically the equivalent of saying “you’re a jerk” to a friend who’s messing with you, but just to acknowledge their teasing and not because you’re actually mad.

It reminds me of someone—I don’t remember who—saying that you know a Japanese person is your friend when they start making fun of you. We really don’t see a lot of that with others, do we? He’s comfortable enough to bicker with Nishimura and laugh when he’s ridiculous, and Taki is arguably teasing when she gives him his Awkward Photo where he’s “dressed up all cute.” But I can’t remember him actively teasing anyone but Tanuma. Natsume’s so used to trying to be super-polite to appease everyone, he must be really stepping outside of his comfort zone to take a social risk like that. It really shows how much they trust each other.

[septic84]

Phil’s right to be Sad

Phil feels the need to withhold his true feelings from Dan to protect him. Dan wants none of that. 

A03

“I can't be depressed, that's Dan's thing.” I overheard Phil say one day to who I can only assume was his mum. It hurt me, deeply, but not for the reason you would think. When Phil says these types of things, I know it's never malicious, it is just a statement. The reason it hurts me is my mental health issues overshadow everything else. I wish Phil didn't feel that way, but I knew that was who he was. Kind, self-sacrificing, compassionate to his own detriment. I have noticed that Phil has been more irritable as of late, he isn't sleeping properly and is mentally foggy. I know these signs. I feel awful that Phil can't say what he means, or what he wants to me. He constantly is censoring himself due to the foreshadowing of the effect on me. He doesn't ever think of his own well-being. I feel guilty because of this and it has caused a crisis or two.

He is my best friend, trying to protect me. I wish he knew how I yearned for him to speak earnestly with me about these things. I know the reason he doesn't; he has convinced himself that my issues are worse and that by him saying anything even close to implying he was depressed, it would be almost as if it is an insult to my suffering. This, of course, was ridiculous to me. in reality, I think it would help me understand him more and maybe even myself if he shared these feelings when he had them. I often wonder if he is more quiet about it as everyone has coined Phil as a "ray of sunshine," which he typically is. Perhaps he is afraid of letting people down.

“No mum, I am fine. I just am tired.” I walked into the room nodding at Phil who gave me a weak smile. “I will, thanks. Bye.”

“Hey, Phil.”

“Hi.” He yawned and set his phone down. “Do you feel good enough to record some gaming videos?”

I cocked my eyebrow at him. “Do you?”

“What? Yeah. I'm fine.”

“Clearly.”

He scowled “What?”

“Phil,”

“Dan,”

I shook my head. “Be honest with me,” I sat next to him. “You look like you haven't slept properly in days.”

He closed his eyes and took a deep breath. “I have been having issues, but I am fine. Nothing another cup of coffee won't fix.”

“Really, Phil?”

“Yes, really, Dan.” He was clearly getting annoyed.

“Go take a nap, Phil. After we can decide about filming, yeah?”

“No nap.”

“What are you, 5?”

“Shut up.” He snapped. “What are you, my mum?”

I tried not to smirk. “Want to or not, you need one, mate.” I stood up “You are really grouchy.”

“Well excuse me, Mr. Positive. Don't let my mood ruin your bleeding life.” Phil threw his hands up in the air and sighed. He stood up and looked at me as if he were going to say something else, instead he walked away, shaking his head and went to his room. I didn't know if he would sleep or not, but maybe he would rest.

I decided to cook because I wasn't sure what else I could do for him. I knew that he didn't want to open up to me, so I figured the next best thing was comfort food. Halfway through I heard Phil come into the kitchen. His hair was a mess so I knew he had at least laid down for a while.

“Less grumpy?” I asked hesitantly.

“Um, yeah. Sorry.”

I waved him off. “I am making dinner.”

“I see that it smells wonderful.”

“It should, it's your favorite.”

“You didn't need to do that Dan.” He said softly.

“Nope. Still did.”

“Well, then I am lucky. I was a jerk earlier.”

I didn't respond, I continued to cook in the tense atmosphere of the kitchen as Phil watched me. He seemed so heavy, it was almost palpable. What was I supposed to do? I didn't know how to be on this end of it. So many times I had put Phil through this and suddenly I was very aware of how difficult it must have been. Years and years of me refusing to tell him that I was struggling and him just watching me suffer. Did he feel like I felt now? Helpless, frustrated, fed up? I was too lost in my own head to notice Phil had left the kitchen until I went to ask him about dinner. Where had he gone? Turning off the stove I walked out into the lounge to find him, tears forming behind his eyes. I sighed.

“I know you're not okay, you know?” I sat next to him. “You don't have to talk about it, but I am here.”

“I'm still tired.” He choked out.

“Phil, please.”

He quickly blinked back the tears. “Please what?” he said, hoarsely.

“What do you need? Is there something I can do to make you feel better?”

“What do you mean?”

“Jesus, Phil. Do you think I don't notice how upset you are? How exhausted?”

“I'm not-”

“Don't, Phil. You don't have to talk about it, but please don't lie to me.”

“It's not like you were always honest with me, Dan.”

“I know that,” I said softly. “Look where it led.”

He shook his head, “Fine, I'm sad.”

“Do you know why?” I remember when I started to open up to people about how I was feeling, a lot of the time they would ask why without even ascertaining the thought that I may not know.

He shrugged. “More than one reason.” He started to twist his hands together. “And no reasons at all. I don't know.”

“Do you want to tell me about it?”

He looked at me, his cheeks flushed and the sclera of his eyes was bloodshot. It was clear he was desperately trying not to cry. “You don't need to deal with my shit, Dan.”

“I think I should get to make that decision, don't you? Let me take care of you as you do for me. It's okay.”

“I just want to be alone right now. Let me know when it's time to eat.” He stood stiffly and walked back into his room.

I clenched my teeth. Was I this frustrating? Had I been making Phil feel like this for years? I stood up and went back to the kitchen to finish dinner. He had asked to be alone, but I wanted nothing more than to force myself into his room and hug him. I wondered how many times he had thought the same thing when I was holed up in my room. How many times his heart hurt like this, just wanting to make me feel better?

When dinner was done, I knocked on his door after setting the table. “Dinner,” I said softly, returning to the kitchen. It took about five minutes, but when he came to the table I knew he had been crying.

“What would you like to drink?” I asked.

“I don't care.” I had to restrain myself from rolling my eyes. I sat down and started to eat one of the most uncomfortable meals we had ever eaten together. He said nothing, he didn't look at me, and he just picked at his plate.

“You don't have to eat it,” I said after I had watched him push the same forkful around his plate 5 times. “It's okay.” I made sure my tone was as even and unassuming as possible.

“I'm sorry, Dan.” He rubbed his face with his palms. “I don't know what's wrong with me.”

“That's okay, though,” I encouraged. “Sometimes it's hard to sift through all the feelings and thoughts, yeah?”

He looked up at me, “I know it so much worse for you. I shouldn't complain.”

“What are you on about?” I was confused.

“Here I am, filled with self-pity and you, you have actual depression. I suppose I seem like an insensitive jerk.”

“Phil, are you insinuating that because I have depression that you can't be depressed?”

“Well, not exactly.”

“You know how ridiculous that is, right?”

“I don't have a diagnosed illness, Dan.”

“It doesn't matter, Phil. You still can be sad, or upset or whatever you're feeling.”

“I guess.”

“No “I guess” about it. You are too considerate of others for your own good.” I shook my head and said gently, “You have a right to be sad, Phil.”

“Thanks.” He didn't sound like he believed me.

“Why don't I make you a cup of hot chocolate and we can sit in the lounge and maybe watch something?”

He nodded resolutely and got up. I put away the food and made the drinks, retreating to my room briefly to retrieve the bag of marshmallows I had hidden from him. They were intended for a baking video, but it didn't matter. He needed them now.

“Here,”

A smile cracked his lips. “You hid these really well, I had no idea.”

“Oh, I know Phily. Enjoy them, friendo.”

“Can we just, like, maybe sit here? Not watch anything? Is that stupid?

“Is that what you want to do?”

“Yeah,”

“It's not stupid,” I assured. So that's what we did, sat together sipping our drinks, being still and peaceful together. I understood this. Sometimes I didn't want any stimulation, but I didn't want to be alone, either. We sat for at least a half of an hour before Phil said.

“I don't want to trigger you.”

“How do you mean?”

“You have been feeling better lately. I would hate to ruin that for you.”

“Phil,” I patted his leg. “You know as well as I do, anything or nothing at all can trigger me, that isn't even the point I'm trying to make. It doesn't matter. It isn't important how this affects me right now.”

“It is, though.”

I felt my chest constrict with emotion. “You are my best friend. You are supposed to talk to me when you need too. I am okay right now, Phil. I am in a good place. Please talk to me.”

“Lately I just am so tired, so sad. I feel like my life is at a low point and I don't even know why.”

I nodded.

“So I feel like maybe I am depressed, but I don't know how I could be. Or maybe I am just sad for now. But I can't tell why. If I think really hard, I can come up with some things, but none of them seems enough to feel this, “ He stopped, “Whatever this is.”

“Lack of sleep can do that, too.”

“Yeah,”

“Too much idle time does too, for me anyway.” I took a deep breath. “Do you think you should see someone?”

He crinkled his nose. “No,”

“Phil,”

He held his hands up, “This isn't a pride thing, Dan. I really don't think I need a doctor.”

I nodded, “Okay.”

“I am just really confused.”

“That's okay. You don't need to try and figure it out now, or ever if you don't want. What do you need from me? What can I do for you?”

He smiled sadly, “Just this, here, right now.”

I nodded. “Don't ever sit alone with your demons because you are afraid to let them play with mine. I have mine on a leash now, I can deal with yours, okay?”

“I still, worry,”

“I know. That's okay. Let me worry about me for now, yeah? You worry about you.”

“You know I love you, right?”

“Of course.” I smiled at him widely

“Thank you.”

“You're welcome.”

And that's how we spent the evening, only occasionally talking, slow and peaceful. I knew he still was concerned about me, but I guess that was out of my control. For now, I would just take care of Phil to ensure he knew he had the right to be sad.

[ourloveisforthelovely]

Dark 6

A/N: Dark!Gabriel. OOC Gabriel 

Words; 3, 047

Link to previous chapter

Pairings: Gabriel x OFC

___________

Cas walked up the stairs trying to think of something to say to calm Ellie’s raging temper. Maybe calling Gabriel an insensitive jerk wad would do the trick? Cas wondered if the words would sound to alien like coming out of his mouth?

“Wait for me!”

Cas turned seeing Jack coming up the stairs after him.

“Jack, what are you doing?”

Jack smiled.

“Let me talk to Ellie. I think I can help her.”

Cas tilted his head.

“You do?”

Jack nodded eagerly.

“She and I are fast friends I think I can make her feel better.”

Cas looked at Jack pleased. If Cas needed anymore confirmation that Jack had good in him this was it. Jack didn’t like seeing people upset and even though he didn’t fully know Ellie here he was trying to help her.

“I am sure you can. If you need anything call for me.”

Jack nodded before stepping into Ellie and Gabriel’s room. Ellie sat in her window seat with her knees drawn to her chest.

“Go away Gabriel!”

She snapped not bothering to look up. Jack frowned looking over his shoulder.

“Not Gabriel. Jack here.”

Ellie’s head snapped up. She instantly smiled and looked almost apologetic.

“Jack, I’m sorry.”

Jack smiled as he walked over and sat down beside Ellie.

“You thought that I was Gabriel?”

Ellie blushed. Jack smiled. He could see why Gabriel was so entranced by Ellie now. Her soft features and blue eyes were nice to look at. Jack also enjoyed the maternal feeling that he got from Ellie. When she was around he felt at ease and comfortable.

“Yeah for a minute I did. You both sound the same when you walk. I see a lot of similarities. I don’t know if that is a good thing or a bad thing.”

Jack looked thoughtful.

“Can I tell you a secret?”

Ellie nodded.

“You can tell me anything.”

Jack looked back over his shoulder as though he was making sure that Gabriel or no one else had come in the room.

“I don’t think Gabriel is dark like he is acting.”

“Then what is this charade he is pulling?”

Jack shrugged.

“I am working on putting that together. Gabriel has something very heavy on his shoulders and he isn’t ready to let anyone in. I think it has something to do with Lucifer and my other uncles. Gabriel is just stressed out and he’s lashing out at the the ones who mean the most to him.”

Ellie smiled.

“That would make sense. Gabriel never has been a great communicator.”

Jack leaned back so his head was resting against the wall a moment before sitting back up straight.

“I am getting the idea that a lot of people in our family aren’t great at communication. Why is that?”

Ellie pressed her lips together for a moment as she gathered her thoughts.

“Well Jack what I think is we have all had such traumas in our life that we have forgot how to stop bottling things up. Take Dean for example, he has had to be brave for so long he has forgotten sometimes that its okay to show when things bother you. For me, I just let people take what they want from me without much regard to my own feelings. I try to make people happy and the some of the smallest things to heart. My dad always said that I was too tender hearted. Granted I have toughened up some over the years. I tend to let things just boil inside until I explode. Kind of like what happened down in the kitchen with your uncle.”

Jack looked thoughtful.

“I don’t think there is anything wrong with being tenderhearted. It shows you care. Everyone deserves to know that someone cares. I think you should know as well that Gabriel really does love and care for you. I don’t think he knows what to do with those feelings.”

Jack was relived to see Ellie smile. She looked so serious for a while he was worried that she would start crying.

“Thanks Jack. It’s hard you know. Being a human dating an archangel. I really shouldn’t be talking to you about all of this. I don’t want to give you a bad impression of your uncle.”

Jack shook his head.

“Its fine. You deserve to be able to talk to someone. You aren’t going to change my mind about my uncle. I know you love him. None of us are perfect Ellie. Angel, human, half breed, it doesn’t matter. I am noticing that we all have our flaws. I’m glad to have you as an aunt.”

Ellie’s smile grew larger if possible.

“Well you make a pretty terrific nephew yourself.”

Jack grinned that Gabriel like smile. The two sat in silence for a few minutes until there was a knock on the door.

“Come in”

Ellie said softly. Sam poked his head in looking slightly nervous.

“You two should come down here. We have a situation.”

Ellie and Jack stood following Sam down the stairs.

“Sam what is going on?”

Ellie asked softly. Sam turned looking at her carefully before glancing at Jack. His facial expression alone told Ellie that all was not well. She had a sinking feeling in her stomach that all hell was about to break loose.

“There is a bunch of angels out there after Jack. I need to keep you both in my sight.”

Ellie raised an eyebrow before walking to the island in the kitchen and returning with an angel blade. Sam’s eyes widened as she looked pleased with herself.

“I have been wanting to test this baby out for a while. Where is Gabriel?”

Sam shrugged.

“You’re boyfriend has seemed to have vanished. Perfect time too.”

Ellie sighed. She didn’t need to join Sam in a Gabriel bash fest. They were both clearly thinking the same thing. When the archangel vanished things seemed to go to hell.

“No, Ellie. I want you both to stay inside.”

Ellie shook her head.

“I don’t think so Sam. I know how to fight. I am a hunter and don’t need you to keep me safe like some child.”

Sam groaned.

“Ellie, please. Just do what I say.”

Ellie again shook her head.

“Sam I am no sitting in this house while you, Dean, and Dad are out there being all outnumbered. I don’t think so. The conversation is over. You might as well accept it.”

Sam looked frustrated for a moment before looking to Jack.

“I got it Sam. I can use my powers.”

Jack looked rather proud of himself. For once he felt like he was finally able to help keep his family safe! Sam sighed with a defeated smile.

“We got this.”

The youngest Winchester looked as though he was trying to convinced himself that everything would be fine as he turned to walk outside. Ellie stuck close to her ex boyfriend’s back as they joined Dean and Bobby’s side on the lawn. No one said anything as they looked at the group of angels that stood maybe 20 feet across the yard from them.

Ellie frowned trying to see if she could recognize any of them. Unfortunately none of their faces appeared to be familiar. She took a breath before muttering a quiet prayer to Gabriel. Now would be a wonderful time for her lover to show up. No matter how angry she was with him; Ellie knew that she needed him just like he needed her.

“Hand over the nephilim.”

Ellie’s thoughts were interrupted as a dark haired angel stepped up. She looked at Jack with a cold smile. Ellie reached down wrapping her hand around Jack’s. Dean meanwhile, snorted.

“Nah, we found him. Finders keepers bitch.”

Ellie chuckled at Dean’s comment. This was typical Dean Winchester that she loved the most! A smart ass in the face of something that could kill them! The female agent looked less than amused.

“He doesn’t belong with you lot. We are more his family than any of you.”

Jack stepped up but kept his hand locked around Ellie’s. He partially shielded her body with his. The last thing that he wanted was to have to explain to Gabriel why his girlfriend was hurt. Although their relationship wasn’t super closer Gabriel was still his uncle and he knew that Ellie meant the world to him.

“They are my family. You need to do what they said. Leave.”

Jack said calmly.

“It doesn’t work that way.”

The female agent said again. She ran forward trying to grab Jack but was knocked down by Dean running full force at her tackling her. Ellie smirked at what light weight the woman was. If she was any kind of solider she would have seen that coming!

Soon enough there was a full fledged fight at hand. Ellie and Jack tried to stay close together as they sifted their way through the angels coming at them. Sam had tried to make a grab at Ellie to get her to him but she was out of his arms before he could do anything.

“Ellie!”

Sam yelled angrily trying to get a hole of her again. He was so lost in trying to get a hold of her that he didn’t even see an angel coming at him until Ellie ran an angel blade through the guy’s stomach.

“Get your head in the game Sam!”

She yelled back. The last thing that needed to happen was for Sam to be taken out by some angel on a death mission. Whether they were on the best terms or not the last thing that Ellie wanted was to see one of the guys that meant the most in the world to her killed. Seeming pleased that Sam was taking care of himself enough, Ellie went back to the angel that was coming back towards her.

“Come on you stupid son of a bitch!”

She grumbled as he came closer. He reached out trying to grab her. Ellie gracefully stepped out of his arms as he looked at her angrily.

“Why do you smell of angel? You are nothing but a filthy human.”

Ellie scoffed. She could really rock this guys world with the information on who her suitor was.

“If you only knew. Just keep your distance asshat.”

The angel reached out back handing Ellie hard. As her world began to spin Ellie tried her hardest to keep her grip on reality. She knew that her face was cut and bleeding; she just wasn’t sure how badly.

“Don’t touch her!”

Jack’s voice came out of nowhere and the angel began to howl in pain. Ellie looked up from her kneeling position to see Jack’s eyes glowing bright gold as he tortured the angel.

“Don’t touch my family.”

He growled. Ellie took a few deep breaths trying to gain her sense on reality back. It wasn’t until a very familiar voice called out did Ellie begin to be able to focus again.

“I said STOP!”

The sound of Gabriel’s voice froze everyone. What angels that hadn’t been killed froze in their place. They clearly never expected to see another archangel again…especially Gabriel. The one with dark hair stepped up first. She looked almost like her life had flashed before her eyes a moment.

“Gabe…Gabriel? You’re alive?”

Gabriel raised an eyebrow.

“Well where the hell did you think I would be Alana?”

Gabriel asked coldly. The angel, now known as Alana, stumbled over her words a moment.

“You left. All of you archangels left us.”

Gabriel shrugged.

“Well boohoo do you blame us? All of you lesser angels acting like whiny little brats… I had no reason to stay. What are you doing here anyhow?”

Alana looked to Jack.

“The nephilim. He can help us. There isn’t many more of us left Gabriel. We need him. We need you too. The filthy humans won’t let us have him.”

Gabriel looked even more annoyed now. His golden eyes went around all of the faces around him as he silently made sure that the Winchester’s, Bobby, Jack, and Ellie seemed to be okay. He frowned seeing the cut on her face. It went from the top of her lip all the way to her hair line. Gabriel choked back a growl as his blood began to boil. He looked back to Alana again.

“Really now? I can’t imagine why that would be.”

Alana swallowed. She was obviously trying hard to gain the archangel’s favor but knew that she was failing miserably.  

“They want to give him to Lucifer.”

Gabriel laughed softly at that remark. He turned looking at Dean. The eldest Winchester was still clearly on his guard and rightfully so.

“Dean?”

Gabriel said his name calmly. However, there was a tone that none one but the angels had heard before in the archangel’s voice. This was that commanding tone that he would have used in heaven.

“Yeah?”

Dean replied. He was no fool. There was no way in hell that he was about to take on a fully pissed off archangel. Would Gabriel hurt him? He had plenty of times before but something told Dean this time was different. This Gabriel was different. Archangel Gabriel was totally different from trickster Gabriel and whatever Gabriel they had been experiencing over the last day.

“This sounds to be the stupidest thing that I have ever heard in my life. Trust me I have heard some crazy too. Are you planning on giving the kid to Lucifer?”

“No. I think you know the answer to that. Kids family.”

Gabriel raised his eyebrows looking back to Alana.

“Seems to be different.”

Alana shook her head looking almost panicked.

“He’s lying to you! They can’t be trusted!”

Gabriel smirked.

“Hmm…I think differently and honestly I trust him more than I do you. Hold that thought Alana.”

Gabriel turned his back to the angels and walked to where Ellie was sitting by Jack’s feet. He looked to his nephew with a nod of approval and a small smile.

“Proud of you kid.”

He said before looking down to Ellie and holding out his hand. Ellie’s blue eyes looked almost nervous until Gabriel gave her his little lopsided grin.

“It’s okay.”

He said in almost a hushed tone. Ellie reached out taking his hand. Gabriel carefully pulled her into his arms before gently tilting her head to the side. His golden eyes looked over the abrasion on her face. Placing a two fingers on the wound he healed the cut.

“Much better. Are you okay?”

Ellie nodded. Gabriel looked a little more relived now. He stood looking at Ellie for a moment before placing a gentle kiss on her forehead. Turning he looked at the angels who were looking like they were seriously regretting all of their decisions.

“Which one of you harmed her?”

No one made a peep. Gabriel stood quietly for a few seconds before getting annoyed again.

“I know that I am not talking to myself! I also know that it wasn’t any of them. If someone doesn’t answer me in the next 6 seconds we are going to play he who hesitates disintegrates!”

All of the angels started looking between themselves nervously. Finally the one that had been after Ellie before having the stuffing knocked out of him by Jack stepped forward.

“It was me.”

Gabriel’s extra sassy expression returned and for a second Ellie was wondering if this was Gabriel or Lucifer in front of her.

“Aaron. I want you to look at her and tell me one thing that you see.”

Aaron didn’t move for a moment as his green eyes focused on Ellie. He didn’t respond for a few moments or noticed that Gabriel had started circling him.

“Ain’t got all day.”

Gabriel grumbled, looking annoyed. Aaron looked up at the archangel with wide eyes before muttering something totally inaudible. Even Gabriel appeared to completely miss what the angel had said.

“You are going to have to talk louder.”

Gabriel replied in an even more sassier than normal tone. Aaron swallowed.

“You marked her.”

Gabriel nodded.

“Mhm….and what else does that mean?”

Aaron shrugged, looking down again. Gabriel meanwhile, was appearing to lose his temper again.

“Come on kid. What does it mean when an angel marks someone? I know you know this. It’s common sense.”

Aaron didn’t respond. Gabriel sighed as he walked behind the younger angel. He looked back to Alana and the others with a sneer.

“Alana what does it mean. I better get an answer.”

He growled. Alana quickly stepped out of the angels that she had surrounded herself with.

“It means she’s yours….an extension of yourself that is untouchable by any other angel.”

Gabriel looked pleased with her answer.

“Thank you! See what does a guy have to do to get an answer with you lot? Shit its like talking to a bunch of stupid monkeys. So, Aaron, it means keep your fucking hands off of my woman!”

Before Aaron could respond Gabriel sank an angel blade right through the younger angel. Ellie stepped back against Jack clearly shocked. Everyone was shocked! No one had expected….that! Sam and Dean stepped back to where Bobby was sitting with wide eyes. Clearway no one had expected Gabriel just to off that other angel.

The angels quickly stepped back with wide eyes as Gabriel turned back to them.

“You know what really bugs me too. You boneheads come here thinking that you can just walk off with my nephew and nothing was going to happen to you? I mean, oh my dad, don’t you all have more brain power? You know what don’t even answer me.”

Gabriel snapped his fingers disintegrating the other angels with a cold sneer.

“A few more down…”

________

@sumara62

@greenappleeyes

@tas898

@jannalionheart

@sherala007

@thewhiterabbit42

@authoressskr

[buffster]

Becoming Part 1 (BTVS 2.21)

This is part of my ongoing Buffy Project, where I write notes/meta for every episode in an attempt to better understand the characters and themes of the show. You can find the full list here. Gifs are not mine.

Whistler: Here’s the thing. There’s moments in your life that make you. That set the course of who you’re gonna be. Sometimes they’re little, subtle moments. Sometimes they’re not. I’ll show you what I mean.

There’s a lot of time spend on Angel’s backstory in this episode, which I love. It was about time. It begins in Galway, 1753, with a young Liam drunkenly exiting a bar. He tells his friend they’re going to come back with some of his father’s silver. Then he spies Darla.

Liam: My lady, you will find that, with the exception of an honest day’s work, there is no challenge I am not prepared to face. 

He is excited by her proposal to see the world and she turns him. We return to present day where Buffy has decided she is taking the fight to Angel. Apparently she was hoping he’d attack and force her into what she has to do, but she’s tired of waiting it out. She assures her friends she is ready.

After a vision from Drusilla, Angelus decides to steal a relic from the local museum. It is Acathla, a demon who came forth to swallow the world. It was killed by a knight and turned to stone, as demons sometimes do (well, ok?). It was buried where no demon would look until some people decided to build on it. Angelus wants to be the worthy one to pull out the sword and send the whole world into hell. Giles says that only non-demon life will suffer there, but when Angel is sent there he suffers. This might be explained later but I don’t remember it.

The next flashback is London, 1860. Drusilla is praying and goes to confess. Unbeknownst to her Angelus is in the other side drinking the priest’s blood. She confesses to him that she is having visions and her mother says she is cursed. This is when she drew Angelus in: she wanted to do good and not give in to the devil. He can’t resist turning light into darkness.

Drusilla: No...I want to be good...I want to be pure.

Angelus: We all do, at first. The world doesn’t work that way.

Willow is tutoring Buffy for finals. She has no patience for Buffy calling herself a moron and tells her not to waste her time if she’s not going to try. Buffy says she really is a good teacher (kind of surprised Willow didn’t end up in this profession?). Buffy’s prophetic abilities are used again when she is able to locate Ms. Calendar’s missing disc after experiencing deja vu. 

The next flashback is in Rumanian Woods, 1898. There’s a glimpse of the body of the gypsy girl being grieved over and the old woman saying the spell to restore Angel’s soul. It’s returned to him and he begins to feel what he’s done. Just like with Spike in season seven, it overwhelms him. 

Back at the school Buffy and Willow are telling Cordelia, Xander, and Giles about their findings. Giles doesn’t think he can perform the ritual because he doesn’t have the required knowledge of the black arts, but Willow nervously admits she has been studying enough that she thinks she does. 

Giles: Willow, performing this kind of ritual--channeling such potent magicks through yourself--it will open a door you may not be able to close. 

They are continuing to argue (with Willow being the most passionately pro-ritual) when Xander jumps in with one of his worst moments of the series. He’s got Issue Face (as in, I’ve got personal issues here that are making me Non-Objective guy). Sorry, but I’m going to note the entire conversation for my future reference:

Xander: This spell might restore Angel’s humanity? Well, here’s an interesting angle: who cares?

Buffy: I care.

Xander: Is that right?

Giles: Xander, let’s not lose perspective here--

Xander: I’m perspective guy. Angel is a killer.

Willow: Xander--

Buffy: It’s not that simple.

Xander: What, come back home, all is forgiven? I can’t believe you people.

Cordelia: Xander has a point--

Xander: You know, just once I wish you would support me and I realize now that you were and I’m embarrassed so I’m gonna get back to the point which is that Angel needs to die. 

Giles: Curing Angel was apparently Jenny’s last wish...

Xander: Yeah, well, Jenny’s dead.

Giles: Don’t you speak of her in that insolent--

Xander: Can’t you see what I’m saying--

Buffy: Alright, stop it!

Willow: (to Buffy) What do you want to do?

Buffy: I don’t know...what happened to Angel wasn’t his fault...

Xander: What happened to Ms. Calendar is. You can paint this however you want. Way I see it you want to forget all about Ms. Calendar’s murder so you can get your boyfriend back. 

Cordelia: Wow. Even I know that was insensitive.

Xander: Am I wrong?

I think his issue here is multi-faceted. One is that he doesn’t see any distinction between Angel and Angelus. It’s almost as if he views Angel as a muzzled dog that’s too dangerous to let live. Which, to be honest, is a fair point. Angelus will always be a possibility that’s pretty dangerous for the world. I also don’t think some critics are wrong that there’s a part of this that’s about jealousy over Buffy. My third view is that he has seen Angel as That Guy from the beginning--the guy that’s a total jerk but the pretty girl and everyone else can’t see it. The kind of guy that probably bullied Xander a lot. I think he’s been looking forward to Angel’s death for awhile now and he doesn’t want to let that go. My least favorite part of this scene is that he accuses Buffy of not caring about what Angelus did to Ms. Calendar. We know that’s not true and how much the guilt weighs on her. Xander’s character is a bit uncompromising and very black and white.

Buffy and Willow later talk on the phone, where Willow condemns Xander with some strong language. Buffy isn’t sure what she wants but then finds her Claddagh ring at the bottom of her drawer. 

Kendra returns to help them fight. She brings a sword blessed by the knight who first slew the demon. There’s another crazy moment where a vampire bursts into flames in the middle of a classroom delivering a message to Buffy. These kinds of events lead to all the students helping in Graduation. Buffy decides to meet Angel while Kendra guards everyone else. 

We go to Manhattan, 1996. Whistler approaches Angel (sent by the Powers that Be?), who looks horrible and is feeding on rats. He tells him to stop feeling sorry for himself and shows him Buffy, who has just become the slayer. I love flashback Buffy even more than flashback Angel. She is very much season one Cordelia, sucking on a lollipop and talking about boys with her friends (she’s clearly the ringleader). Her clothes are very different; she’s dressed in bright neon colors. Her first Watcher, Merrick, approaches her. Buffy barely manages to kill her first vampire as Angel watches.

Back in present day Buffy goes to fight Angelus. While she’s there the Scoobies are attacked. Willow is knocked down by a shelf, Xander is injured fighting, Giles is taken, Cordelia flees, and Kendra is killed by Drusilla. I’ve read before that her obedient nature is what made her susceptible to Dru’s hypnosis, which I think is pretty interesting. Buffy returns to find chaos and Kendra’s dead body. She is approached by a policewoman.

Whistler: Bottom line is even if you see em coming, you’re not ready for the big moments. No one asks for their life to change, not really, but it does. So, what, are we helpless? Puppets? No. The big moments are gonna come, can’t help that. It’s what you do afterwards that counts. That’s when you find out who you are.

As Angel performs the ritual to bring forth Acathla, he says, “As I ascend, as I become”. He also says he wants to become someone to Whistler (there’s our title). 

Character Notes:

Cordelia Chase: Cordelia actually compliments Willow and her dedication to teaching and tutoring. 

Principal Snyder: He is upset about Cordelia and Xander and Willow and Oz’s PDA. He also tells Buffy she should just give him a reason to kick her out.

Rupert Giles: Giles is the best authority on obscure relics in Sunnydale and a professor refers him to the museum curator. 

Hank and Joyce Summers: The original script had a scene where Joyce tells Buffy that her and Hank are agnostic. In the actual show there is a flashback where they argue because Hank wants to be tougher on Buffy.

Whistler: Whistler is the one who gives Angel the information to find blood at the butcher’s. He says his real name is hard to pronounce unless you’re a dolphin. 

Buffy Summers: She mentions she has stolen lipstick when Merrick approaches her. Possibly something she did for her parent’s attention like Dawn in later seasons?

Kendra Young: She gives Buffy her lucky stake, Mr. Pointy. 

[satuwrites]

19. Just let me cry a little bit longer, I ain’t gon’ smile if I don’t want to.

It had been a busy evening in the coffee shop and so it was with a sigh of relief that Luke locked the door when the clock struck nine and even the young woman who had arrived half an hour earlier and had been incessantly winking at him for the duration – even after he had dashed into the backroom to fetch his rainbow flag pin and very pointedly fastened it to the front of his apron – was forced to leave. She had done so with one final spasm of the eye and he had been tempted to ask if she was quite alright, but that might have encouraged her to start an actual conversation, so he had merely granted her a slight nod of the head before practically sprinting to the door to make sure no new customers would try to barge in with complete disregard to the fact that Luke did have a life outside his work.

After the satisfying click that marked the end of the day, Luke leaned against the door for a few deep breaths, pushing strands of brown hair off his face, more than eager to leave the hectic evening shift behind. Usually the last couple of hours before closing time were blessedly quiet and he had plenty of time to chat with his partner in crime, Melissa, before he was left by himself to man the fort for the last 60 minutes which he normally spent studying for upcoming exams or scrolling through social media while serving maybe two customers at most. Not tonight, though. Tonight had been an endless stream of customers in increasingly more eccentric outfits as the evening progressed. Curious, Luke had asked a middle-aged man in a glittering leotard and killer heels – Luke hoped to be even half as badass as the man one day – if there was a reason so many people seemingly out of a surrealistic fairy tale had taken over the coffee shop where the usual, unexciting cast of customers consisted of university students in jumpers and joggers as well as business professionals in pinstripe suits and pencil skirts. Apparently there was some kind of an artsy event taking place down the road – Luke wasn’t sure on the details; he had lost interest as soon as the words ‘art’ and ‘exhibition’ had been uttered – and Biscuits and Coffee Beans was the only place nearby that sold coffee and was still open. It was good for the business, but bad for Luke’s nerves as he fought to keep the fake smile on while explaining as patiently as he could that no, the coffee wasn’t on the house no matter how shiny the outfit and yes, he was quite positive the green tea was vegan and gluten-free.

With one final huff of air, Luke pushed himself off the door and went to collect the dishes from the table where the woman with an apparent facial tic had sat. She had scribbled her phone number on the back of the receipt with, yet another, winky face and a name Rachel. Luke only shook his head as he threw the piece of paper in the rubbish bin and set the dishes in the sink. He would need to wash them by hand because the dishwasher was already running with the last load, but he didn’t mind. There was something incredibly peaceful in the silence that embraced the coffee shop after the door was locked and Luke started the closing ritual of lifting chairs on tables so that he could mop the floors. He hummed whatever poppy tune that came to his mind while he worked his way methodically towards the adjoining smaller dining area.

When Luke entered the other room, he heard a quiet sob and nearly jumped out of his skin to take up residence in the yucca plant next to him. Heart thundering, Luke steadied the plant he had almost knocked over and then turned to look at the source of the sobbing. In the back corner of the room, there was one final customer sitting at a round table with their head resting on their arms on the table top. Luke couldn’t tell much about the customer other than that they had blond, short hair and were wearing jeans and a hoodie with a back bag thrown on the chair next to them. Based on their attire, Luke thought they might be a university student.

A student who was very obviously crying.

As a student himself, Luke was intimately acquainted with the all-consuming despair caused by looming deadlines and gruelling exams. However, if this person actually was a student, they were taking study stress much harder than the average human. Luke was certain the lingering customer hadn’t been among the colourful hurricane that had started two hours before closing time because he would’ve remember them since they would’ve stuck out like a ray of sunshine in the middle of a storm, which meant that they had sat there and cried for much longer than should be humanly possible. It also meant that Melissa hadn’t informed him at the end of her shift that there was a customer in the smaller room which had been under her responsibility that day. All the customers in the last hour had stayed in the main dining area and so Luke had simply assumed that the coffee shop was empty once the hopelessly winking woman had left. He would berate Melissa when he saw her tomorrow, but right now, he needed to take care of the sad sight in front of him.

Luke tried clearing his throat from the other side of the room, but when the customer’s shoulders kept quivering and muffled sniffles kept coming at steady intervals, he stomped to the occupied table, making sure to cause enough noise for the other person to hear him. As dismayed as he was about having to deal with a customer after the coffee shop had already closed, the thought of giving the slumped form a cardiac arrest and then having to deal with a dead customer thrilled him even less.

“Hey, are you alright?” Luke asked, deciding to go with a polite approach. After all, his number one job was to make sure customers felt welcome and had a pleasant stay so that they would visit the coffee shop again or recommend it to their friends. Telling the poor soul to fuck off would probably ensure they would write a scathing review online, and those were really bad for business.

The customer’s shoulders stopped shaking, but there was no reply other than a derisive snort that clearly said what does it look like?

Luke sighed. This was going about just as well as he had expected. “Look, I’m terribly sorry for whatever that’s got you so upset, but we closed ten minutes ago.” Then, knowing fully well his boss would have a raging fit if she heard him breach one of the most important rules of customer service, he said, “I’m afraid I have to ask you to leave.”

A surprisingly deep male voice answered him and the dark timbre resonated pleasantly through Luke’s spine, though he tried to ignore it. “Just let me cry a little bit longer.”

“Wouldn’t you rather do that at home? That chair can’t be too comfortable,” Luke coaxed. He knew that his boss had deliberately foregone upholstered chairs in order to avoid customers overstaying their welcome in plush seats that would keep their bottoms nice and cosy. Most of the time it worked, but of course there were exceptions like this guy who ended up being a pain in the ass rather than having a pain in the ass from sitting on the harsh surface.

“No. If you knew my roommate, you wouldn’t either.”

The guy really did have a nice, rich voice, and Luke wouldn’t have minded listening to it more if he hadn’t been tired from the whirlwind of a shift and if he hadn’t had a job to do that included lifting the chair the customer was currently sitting on. The kind mask of a customer servant melted away and revealed the true face of a cranky, over-worked university student. “To be quite honest, I don’t actually care where you’d rather do your pathetic sobbing at, I just know I’d rather see you do it somewhere else. I would like to go home at some point, and for that to happen, you need to move your sorry ass.”

The slumped form in front of him went rigid for a long moment during which Luke managed to go through around a hundred painful scenarios of his boss firing him for his deplorable choice of words. Then the guy raised his head to glare at him, and all thoughts of his boss evaporated and were replaced by well hello, Mr Bluest-eyes-I’ve-ever-seen.

Suddenly Luke was more than happy to let the guy stay.

“Who are you calling pathetic?” the young man grumbled low in his throat, and the sound almost had Luke blushing but he fought it down. It took him an embarrassingly long time to reply because he was busy staring at the guy whose macho voice did not match his delicate features that were tinted red and bloated from all the crying he had been doing. Luke couldn’t decide whether it was a combination forged in heaven or hell. All he knew was that he had a weakness for pretty faces with blond hair and blue eyes and voices better suited for mountains, and here was a guy who somehow managed to embody all of that at once.

Luke tried to keep his words from trembling as he finally collected himself. “Not who, but what – your sobbing.” The guy’s features turned into a furious frown that looked out of place with the red-rimmed eyes and wet cheeks. Before he could grunt a response, however, Luke continued with a sigh, rubbing his neck, “I’m sorry, I turn into an even more insensitive jerk than usual when I’m tired. How about I make it up to you with my special hot chocolate? It’s on the house. You could probably use the hydration after the hours-long cryfest.”

The guy’s expression didn’t soften, but his shoulders relaxed a little bit. Then he nodded and muttered, “Sure.” Luke counted that as a victory.

“Fantastic! Help me lift the rest of the chairs on the tables and then get ready for me to rock your world,” Luke said with a wink and tried not to think about how he was turning into the young woman who had tried to flirt with him relentlessly. For all he knew, the guy was straight, but at least he didn’t show signs of discomfort at the gesture. Another small victory.

They made short work of clearing the floor. Luke chatted all the while about the hectic day, the bizarre crowd of customers and their foolish questions, never letting an awkward silence settle down in the space between himself and the other guy. For once in his life, Luke was actually grateful for his inability to shut up. Otherwise he would’ve just gawked at the guy who on top of everything else was also taller than Luke – and he was used to towering over his friends. It was as if someone had looked inside his brain to see all the things he found attractive in a guy and then created this tall human with the face of an elf but the voice of a dwarf.

Once all the chairs were lying upside down on the tables, Luke led the blonde to the main dining area and started preparing the promised hot chocolate. He continued babbling about trivial things while he worked his magic behind the counter. The special blend of hot milk, cocoa and different spices and flavours was something Luke had been perfecting ever since he had started working at Biscuits and Coffee Beans three and a half years ago. He would go as far as to say that the hot chocolate made by his masterful hands was the best in the city, and Melissa readily agreed whenever they dared to splurge on the rich-flavoured drink. One of these days he might pitch it to his boss in hopes of getting it put on the menu.

Luke added one more spoonful of caramel on top of the whipped cream before turning with a flourish, hoping his face wasn’t red after feeling a pair of brilliant blue eyes drilling into his back for the past few minutes. “Ta-da! Here you go, kind sir, a Luke-surious Lukehot Chocolate – emphasis on the hot – made with loving hands by yours truly.”

Blue eyes met brown ones with an incredulous stare before long fingers – of course, of course they were long – wrapped carefully around the mug. Their fingers brushed and if he had been in an overly romantic novel, Luke would’ve said he felt an electric spark lighting up his soul but, alas, he was just a tired university kid serving hot chocolate presumably to another tired student and the brush of their fingers was just that, an accidental contact of skin.  

“Thank you,” came the rumbling response and the hand withdrew as the tall guy gazed into the swirl of whipped cream.

Luke took in a theatrical, shocked gasp. “What? I don’t get even a hint of a smile as payment for my grievous effort?”

“I’m not going to smile if I don’t want to. Besides, you said it was on the house. I owe you nothing.”

Luke decided then and there it was his life mission to make the guy crack a smile. To hell with getting a degree and finding a better-paying job and buying a house; making those thin, pink lips curve upwards was far more important and definitely more satisfying.

“How cruel! How cold! Why must you hurt me so?” Luke pretended to faint onto the counter and he lay there for a few seconds before straightening up as if nothing out of the ordinary had happened. “Well, I hope you enjoy your drink worthy of gods. I’ll start mopping the floors like the lowly mortal I am.” He turned to fetch the cleaning equipment from the backroom, but nearly tripped over when he heard a spoon clinking against ceramic followed by a delightful moan of appreciation. Oh my god. The sound shot straight to Luke’s lower abdomen and he rushed to the staff toilet to splash his face with cold water in order to calm down.

When he deemed himself ready to face the guy with the sinfully deep voice, Luke returned to the front of the coffee shop, carrying the necessary equipment. The blonde was leaning on the counter with the grace of a prince while slurping on the hot chocolate, and to Luke’s chagrin – or pleasure, he wasn’t sure – he was making small sounds of approval from time to time. Luke had to put a stop to that if he wanted to get anything done.

“So, what do you think? Is the drink good enough for your refined taste buds?” Luke asked as he cast the mop into the bucket of water and started cleaning the floor after wringing the excess water out of it.

The guy nodded, but didn’t offer a smile. “It’s delicious.”

“Told you I’d rock your world, didn’t I?”

They existed in a comfortable silence for a moment while Luke scrubbed on a particularly nasty stain. When it didn’t come off, he moved a table slightly to cover it up. Out of sight, out of mind, as they say.

“So, did you flunk an exam or what happened to get you so miserable?” Luke inquired when the other guy didn’t seem inclined to start a conversation. He tried not to let himself think it was because the tall blonde found him tragically uninteresting.

“You think I would cry over a stupid exam?” The guy sounded offended and when Luke turned to look at him, his torso had gone stiff and he was glaring at the counter. In hindsight, the current topic of conversation was probably not the best one for his plan to rouse a smile on the beautiful face.

“Hey, wouldn’t be the first time I witnessed such behaviour. I would probably shed a few tears as well. If I ever managed to fail an exam, that is.”

Luke had hoped the sapphire-blue eyes would turn to look at him, even if in disgust at his boasting, but they stayed cast down while the man shook his head. Finally, with a defeated sigh, he muttered so quietly that Luke almost didn’t hear him, “No, it’s… My… I found my girlfriend cheating on me with my ex.”

A girlfriend. Well, of course, Luke thought. Who had he been kidding, really? It was ridiculous to think that a gorgeous man who ticked all the boxes of Luke’s mental list of qualities to look for in a boyfriend would be anything but straight. He had to remind himself once again that he did not, in fact, live in a film where a chance encounter leads to the protagonist finding the love of their life when they least expect it. Luke had better get more acquainted with reality. It might be a harsh, unforgiving friend but at least it wouldn’t let Luke’s imagination run off to create fanciful scenarios where he finds someone who is willing to put up with his wacky antics.

There was an unpleasant pause as Luke tried to bite down the horrible feeling of disappointment before daring to open his mouth. Even then, he wanted to whack himself unconscious with the handle of the mop as soon as the words made themselves known. “Oh… That’s… unfortunate.”

“You could say that.”

Not knowing what to say next, Luke spewed out whatever words came to his mind, which was never a good choice in situations where he was supposed to be tactful. He didn’t know how to be sensitive most of the time, and his big mouth had got him into trouble more than once at work. “So, what? Are you so bad in bed that she lost all interest in men? Or was she just ‘experimenting’? She must know that’s an atrocious excuse if you’re in a relationship with someone.”

For some reason the other guy didn’t punch him. Instead, the blue eyes trained on him and the defined brows scrunched into a confused frown. Then, for a split second, the guy’s facial muscles were tugging his lips into a smile, but the moment was gone so fast Luke wasn’t sure if he hadn’t imagined it. Still, there was suddenly mirth in the depths of those blue pools.

“No, I think she just liked my ex’s dick better than mine.”

Luke almost choked on his own spit and he had to lean on his trusty mop to keep himself upright as he coughed. He could imagine how painfully unflattering he looked like in that moment, and the relief he felt at the blonde’s words did little to abate the morbid embarrassment.

Once the coughing fit passed, Luke croaked out, “So… You’re –.”

He was cut off. “Bisexual? Yeah. Is that a problem?”

If only the guy knew how much it was not a problem. “Obviously not,” Luke said weakly, pointing at the rainbow flag pin that was still adorning his apron. “I’m gay myself.”

A slender chin dipped down for a brief nod of acknowledgment, and then their eyes locked for a relaxed staring contest, as if they were seeing each other in a whole new light. There was fluttering hope in Luke’s stomach once again, but he didn’t let the feeling get overpowering. Just because the guy could like men as well as women didn’t mean he would ever find Luke attractive. Luke wasn’t quite ready to let go of his newly-formed friendship with reality.

Eventually Luke felt heat creeping up his neck to set his cheeks aflame and so he turned back to his work to hide the blush. After a couple of minutes of weird silence, he cleared his throat and said, “For what it’s worth, I’m sorry for what happened.”

“Thank you.”

They fell into easy conversation after that, and Luke was delighted to notice it was now more of a dialogue rather than his monologue. They stayed on safe topics such as school – Luke had been correct; the tall blonde was, in fact, a university student – and favourite films, but it was nevertheless a nice way to pass the time as the guy finished his hot chocolate and Luke mopped the floor. Luke found himself enjoying the other man’s more serious demeanour, although it meant that making him smile was proving to be a much more difficult task than Luke had anticipated.

Some time later, the blonde gulped down the last of the hot chocolate and set the mug down with a resigned sigh. “Well, I’d better get going before my roommate calls the police. He worries if I stay out late without informing him, and my phone’s battery’s dead.” He shouldered his back bag and made his way towards the door.

“It’s alright, you can admit that you still live with your mum,” Luke teased, which only earned him an eye roll and no trace of a smile. He had to admit defeat. Thinking no more words would be exchanged, Luke lifted the bucket full of now dirty water to empty it in the sink in the backroom.

The low rumble of his late-night customer halted his steps.

“Hey, Luke.”

Turning to face the guy who was already halfway through the door, Luke was momentarily stunned by the fact that the attractive young man knew his name before he mentally slapped himself. Of course the guy knew his name, it was written in bold black letters on his nametag.

“Yes, sir?”

“Thanks for the hot chocolate,” the blonde said. Then the miracle that Luke had been waiting for the past 40 minutes happened. Like the sun peeping through a heavy curtain of clouds, a gentle smile graced the delicate lips, and the movement brought a sparkle into the stunning eyes that threatened to pull Luke in. He was certain his heart skipped a few beats and for a moment he felt like maybe he did live in one of those incredibly cliché books or films. Then it passed as the guy disappeared into the late evening, leaving Luke behind with a massive grin which didn’t fade away as he finished up the rest of his closing shift duties.

It wasn’t until later that night when Luke was sitting in bed with his laptop, determined to befriend the man of his dreams on Facebook, that he realised he hadn’t asked the guy’s name or his phone number. Somehow he had been so swept away in the excitement of meeting the perfect guy that the fact he was missing such a minor and useless detail as a name had went completely unnoticed.

Crushed, Luke put the laptop away and curled under the covers before turning off the bedside lamp. Unless the mysterious guy showed up at the coffee shop again and gave Luke the chance to fix his mistake, he had no way of finding him. Maybe the guy had wanted it to be that way; maybe he had thought Luke was creepy and wanted nothing more to do with him.

With that happy thought, Luke shut his eyes and fell into a restless sleep.

  It had been exactly two weeks since his encounter with the gorgeous blonde, and Luke was taking care of his usual Wednesday closing shift. The evening had been scarce of customers, which suited him just fine. He had had plenty of time to do research for a paper due next week, and didn’t feel too guilty for starting to stack the chairs on the tables ten minutes before closing time. That way he would be out of the coffee shop more quickly after closing. The quiet of the empty space late in the evening had become suffocating to Luke after sharing it with the nameless stranger a fortnight earlier. It only reminded him of the missed chance of asking for the guy’s phone number or any other information that would’ve allowed him to stay in touch with the guy. He hated being reminded of his own mistakes.

The tiny bell above the door chimed when there were only five minutes to go until nine o’clock. Luke was wiping the counter with his back to whoever had dared to disturb him so close to his freedom and he used the opportunity to glare at the wall and then let out a huge sigh.

“We’re closing in five minutes. If you’re here for take-away, that’s fine, otherwise I’d suggest you come back tomorrow unless you want to gulp down your beverage in record time.” Luke tried to keep his voice friendly to disguise the bluntness of his words, but it sounded strained even to his own ears. No points for splendid customer service for him tonight.

“Actually, I was really looking forward to having one of your Luke-surious Lukehot Chocolates and enjoying it at a leisurely pace. Is there no way that could be arranged?”

Luke swivelled around so quickly he almost cracked his neck.

There, leaning casually on the closed door in a leather jacket that looked sinfully good on his lean frame and the same jeans from two weeks before, was the nameless guy whose deep, resonating voice had been haunting Luke’s dreams on more than one occasion in the course of two weeks. As much as the blonde had been in Luke’s mind, he had forgotten the sharpness and the delicateness of his features and just how mesmerizingly blue his eyes were. Luke was tempted to pinch himself to check he wasn’t dreaming. No one could possibly look that good.

Luke had to swallow his nervousness down a few times before he stated as nonchalantly as possible, “Perhaps. Depends on who’s asking.”

A knowing smirk spread across the gorgeous face, and Luke had to tell his heart to calm down from its sudden burst of energy. Now was the most inconvenient time possible for having a cardiac arrest. If he didn’t die from his heart malfunctioning, the ensuing humiliation would surely do him in.

“Marcus.”

And just like that, Luke had a name to connect to the face. The exhilaration pulled his lips into a wide smile, but he didn’t care. Marcus had better get used to it.

“Well, you’re in luck, Marcus. I have an order coming up with your name on it on one condition.” The blonde – Marcus – cocked an eyebrow and Luke decided to just go for it, “You have to kiss the cook.”

If possible, Marcus’ smirk only grew wider, his blue eyes twinkling. “Of course, if the hot chocolate meets my high standards.”

With a pleased blush on his cheeks, Luke skipped behind the counter to prepare the beverage. He hummed excitedly as he worked, thinking that maybe it was possible for real life to imitate art. He certainly felt like he was living a scene out of a romantic film as he glanced over his shoulder to lock eyes with Marcus and share soft smiles. Where the plot would take them next, he didn’t know, but he was eager to find out.

Song lyrics from Rose-Colored Boy.

[datingadviceonreddit]

Meeting people is hard. So is figuring out what to say to them once you encounter them. I was just looking at an askreddit post regarding the worst "compliments" women have received from men, and noticed a heck of a lot of patterns/consistent pet peeves, and (seemingly) not a whole lot of understanding in regards to how and why not to say certain things while attempting to get a positive response and/or sex from a lady. The vast majority of ineffective and "insulting" compliments that women receive from men are, in fact, well-intentioned, though somewhat naive. Some people seem to feel really uncertain about what to say to women/what women generally regard as acceptable, thus, I'm going to give you my two cents' worth on this topic!Here are some instructions on how NOT to compliment a woman (this actually applies to men as well, but I'll focus on women for now, since I am one and can speak for them slightly more accurately) and some more effective alternatives.1) Condescending/presumptuous "compliments" such as "Wow, you did that all by yourself!" suck. Most people hate this. Although there is an increasingly tiny sliver of the population who might enjoy this kind of interaction, generally, it's considered alienating, rude, ignorant and tedious.DON'Ts-Don't complisult people and expect them to respond positively. Though this might work for some, most of the time, all this does is make you look like a jerk and destroy any ability they might have had to respect you. If you want to compliment a stranger, say something that is wholly positive or nothing at all. Giving strangers constructive criticism on their appearance or behavior is rude and arrogant, especially since you have no way of knowing how they look/act on a typical day.-Expressing surprise when a woman is able to change a tire, fix a computer, etc isn't actually a compliment, even though it can sometimes function as an ice breaker. Although some women might take pride in their abilities, there's always a high probability that she will find it presumptuous and/or condescending. If you're impressed anyway (like, say, if she is very skilled at what she does- especially when it's not some easy thing that most people can do) there are better ways to express it than "Wow! A woman doing a thing!" Saying something like "nice job fixing X broken appliance" or "it's neat that you know tech. I'm into tech, too!" will generally be received very well, as it's friendly and it isn't presumptuous.-Try not to make other types of presumptuous statements such as "I'll bet you're a really great kisser" or "I'll bet you could/couldn't beat me at a game of chess" right off the bat. It can seem cool to a small percentage of people, but it generally comes across as phony and sometimes a little condescending. It's better to break the ice first and get to know them a little before saying things of that nature.-Don't insert yourself into a teacher and/or leader role with a stranger and then proceed to give them unsolicited "tips" and "feedback." It's usually pretty embarrassing and uncomfortable.DOs-Compliment someone based on something that is true about them, such as an actual skill that they possess, but only when you are legitimately impressed.-Giving someone constructive criticism is definitely okay, but there is a time and a place to do it. For instance, if you are playing a game at the arcade and you notice that someone is using an inefficient strategy, saying something like "you can actually shoot the zombies twice as fast with this character if you switch to this weapon" would usually be well received, whereas telling a stranger something like "you'd look so cute with short hair" is usually perceived as rude and insensitive.2) Compliments based on her beauty/sex appeal. This is a tricky one, as most girls do enjoy compliments of this nature.DON'Ts-Most women do not appreciate overtly sexual comments from strangers. Even when they find the comment to be flattering (some women secretly enjoy knowing that men are looking at them even when they seem not to like it) often times they are also uncomfortable. Feeling flattered that someone is attracted to you is not actually mutually exclusive from feeling uncomfortable about the way in which the attraction was expressed. Even when the woman doesn't have a personal issue with comments such as "Wow, you have a nice round ass!" she might still take offense to the fact that it was said in front of her colleagues, family members, other strangers, etc, or that attention was drawn to her in a public place.-Don't try to hook up with someone on the premise that they are attractive/hot unless you are forthright about the fact that you simply would love to hook up with a hot person (you'll actually have a lot more luck if you defer to the latter than if you put up a pretense and do a whole song and dance.) It's less flattering when the former underlying message of "you're physically attractive, and that is actually the only reason I'm trying to get to know you" than it is to receive the latter message "I'd really like to have sex with someone, and I hope it's you!"-Don't compliment someone on something that clearly isn't true about them in order to sweeten them up. It can be extremely hurtful when someone is transparently pretending to be more pleased by one's appearance or skills than they actually are, and it can make them question any legitimate compliments they receive from you down the line. Of course, in the case of people with very low self esteem (for instance) who don't believe they're attractive/competent and can't be convinced otherwise, it's a different story altogether!DO's-Be sensitive. Assume that there is a chance that an overtly sexual compliment might put someone off, and remember that if they are the type to be offended by such comments, nothing productive (ie: her flirting back, or receiving your sexually charged message with open arms) would have come of it anyway, so your inability to express yourself in that way isn't actually being curtailed; it's better to communicate these things to someone who has shown signs of receptivity.-Do compliment her on her appearance if you have something meaningful to say. For instance, an aesthetic based compliment, such as "there is a grace about the way you move" or "I really like the way your hair frames your face" or "your smile is so joyful- it's contagious!" is usually going to be well received, whereas a generic "you're hot" or "nice legs" or "wow, a blonde!" would feel very impersonal, as it's not really about her at all, but a public statement of your interest in certain body specs that she happens to have.-Many women love being told they're beautiful, but almost universally, it is received well when this occurs via genuine human interaction. Making eye contact, smiling, looking at her face, and just stating directly that she's beautiful is better than an abrupt drive by, or a comment about her hotness followed by a proposition.3) Dehumanizing and/or generalizing "compliments."-Don't ever tell someone they are very pretty/intelligent/X for a "Y type of person" or anything along those lines. "You're too pretty to be a this or that career" or "you're smart for a this or that woman" etc will insult and alienate most kinds of people.-Don't make comments about their race or genetics such as "I've always found X race girls very intriguing" or "I've heard girls with freckles are blah blah, is it true?" Very few people enjoy this kind of attention and some find it offensive.-Don't "compliment" someone by saying "I don't usually find X type of person attractive, but you're the exception." Even though a lot of the time it's unintentional, this almost always comes across as extremely disrespectful. Worst case scenario, it can even sound like you're insinuating that they should feel lucky/privileged to be getting your attention- which will put most people off you.-Don't compliment someone by comparing them to others, ie: "you're not like the other girls" or "you seem so sweet compared to other X type females." It's especially counterproductive if you are insulting toward "the other girls" in your statement; tearing others down is a turn off for most emotionally healthy people and, at its worst, this can also make you seem judgemental.DOs-If you think someone is very special or they stand out among many, it's okay to tell them, but focus on what's appealing about them rather than what's unappealing about everyone else. For instance "Wow! You're so fun to be around! I don't usually feel like I have this much in common with others!" or "I really admire how you helped that old man when he fell! Your kindness is very beautiful." or "It's so awesome that you're into so many kinds of video games!" or "You're lovely in such unique ways!" are very polite and positive statements you can make.-Do compliment her physical attributes after you've sufficiently broken the ice, but until you get to know her a lot better just try to keep it classy. For instance "I have to admit, I do have a thing for brunettes" or "that dress just looks insanely good on you" come across as sweet whereas "I hear gingers are crazy in bed" or "I've always wanted to do it with a black lady" would feel obnoxious and objectifying to many.4) Unwanted attention. If the person has specified that they're uninterested, cease, desist, and move on. However, if it is unclear whether they are interested (which is often the case) here are some helpful tips!DON'Ts-If the person seems really angry, upset or is exhibiting antisocial body language, it's better to not compliment them at all and just let them be until further notice.-Don't bother someone who is clearly in an exclusive relationship; though some people may still enjoy receiving compliments in spite of being "taken", try not to indulge in overtly sexual/intimate commentary, as the risk of making someone uncomfortable is especially high.-Don't lash out at them or take it too personally if they don't respond to you or ask/tell you to go away. That won't help anything. If they're responding in a way that seems rude, then disengage; it likely either means that they're having a very s*** day or, worst case scenario, that they're an immature and/or unreasonable person whom, frankly, you needn't waste further energy on.DOs-Make an effort to gauge whether the person is friendly toward you. That doesn't mean tread on eggshells in case she bites your head off! It just means, become more socially aware! This is a skill that everyone really ought to develop in general- for instance, if you're ranting for hours at a party to a stranger about a topic he doesn't care about, without noticing that he's trying to get away, that's considered socially inept. The same thing is true in flirt situations, regardless of how nice you're being!-If the person seems antisocial or uncomfortable in any way, before even attempting to compliment them (or any other more personal kinds of interactions, for that matter), ask them whether or not they'd mind company or if they'd prefer to be alone; try not to take it personally if they decline.-If the person is clearly in a relationship with someone else, be respectful of that, but if you absolutely MUST compliment them- like, they're so amazing that you'll explode if you hold it in, keep it simple and extremely general/impersonal; tell them you're impressed with their talent, that you like their outfit or that they're simply "very pretty", etc without any further elaboration or engagement. This is considered polite by most people, and only very touchy people (that's on them, not you) will usually find it offensive or obnoxious.-It's okay to go up to someone who looks sad or is drinking alone, etc, and to try to cheer them up with a compliment (although it's often MUCH better to leave compliments out of the equation and simply ask them if they're okay or would like some company) as long as, there again, you keep it simple; overt lewdness toward someone who looks like they might be grieving, vulnerable, etc is usually perceived as selfish and insensitive, but a dry, heart-felt pick-me-up such as "Hi! I noticed you from across the room, but when I got here, I realized that you looked kind of down. Would you like to maybe have some company for a while? Is it alright if I sit here?" would sometimes be welcome- as long as you're completely genuine about it and you're not noodling them, getting in their space, etc.So, to summarize, the types of compliments most people like to receive are genuine, socially aware and respectful. People don't like to be talked down to, otherized or made a spectacle of. They usually prefer compliments that are humanizing over ones that focus solely on body parts and they generally don't like being compared to other people or included in a generalization. via /r/dating_advice