#dude i just fell deeper into this ship through tags

[shackledaces]

i’m pulling an all nighter and in the midst of said situation i have decided to refute popular “points” that i see people use to say that komahina is one-sided and/or toxic.

(this is my own opinion!)

1. “hajime hates/doesn’t care about nagito”

okay, let’s take lines from the actual game.

as you can see, hajime doesn’t hate nagito. in fact, it’s pretty fair to say that hajime just wants to understand him, and is probably the only one in the game who doesn’t hate him. arguably, the screenshot is taken from Island Mode, but I’m pretty sure you get my point; hajime voices his want to understand nagito in the actual game.

and plus, if you really hated someone, would you be worrying for them like hajime does with nagito? i mean just look how much he cares about him:

even again

and again.

and again…

AND AGAIN…….

… yeah.

okay, i think you get my point. even i’m getting sick of hajime’s unending care for nagito (and this is AFTER nagito’s betrayal, if i may point out).

so it’s pretty safe to say that hajime doesn’t hate nagito, right? great. next point.

2. “komahina is one sided/hajime doesn’t love/like nagito back”

to be fair, this is one of the strongest arguments i’ve seen that goes against the ship itself—but let me try to change your mind if you believe that hajime doesn’t have even the slightest bit of feelings for nagito (i do believe that this point is mainly based on your interpretation of the evidence i’m about to give you, so you are free to your own opinion!).

so here we go!

hajime definitely had a crush on nagito at the beginning of the game.

(ignore the bright sun)

and then, the infamous stuttering:

hajime definitely stutters when he’s embarrassed/nervous. he does it with chiaki when she wore a bikini before Mahiru’s case (and it’s pretty obvious that he at least had feelings for her canonically. love our bi protag <3).

at the beginning of the game, nagito and hajime don’t know each other that well, but it’s pretty obvious that they create a bond quicker than anyone else does in the game. it’s not out of line to think that hajime probably felt close to nagito, let alone had some feelings for him.

it would explain why hajime was so hurt by nagito’s betrayal while everyone else was angry/confused.

3. “nagito is just obsessed with hajime because of his “hope”/nagito doesn’t like/love hajime”

alright, it’s pretty much canon that nagito has feelings for hajime, but another mini argument i’ve seen is that “nagito is obsessed with hajime for his hope.”

…okay what.

slow your roll; who said that nagito was obsessed with hajime? the only thing nagito is canonically obsessed with is the idea of hope overcoming despair. sure, when he said “i’m in love with the hope living inside of you” you can argue that he was sincere about it, but in the way the Japanese ver of the game puts it, it’s actually a cover up for “I love you.” and even if it wasn’t, the exact word that nagito uses (aishiteru) is a passionate love; or even a love built with time.

either way, i thought it was pretty obvious that nagito loves hajime for hajime, and maybe his hope was a strong personality trait as to why nagito has feelings for him, but that wasn’t the full reason — that’s probably why nagito still calls him Hajime instead of Izuru/Kamukura.

and plus there’s really no uh denying nagito’s side of the ship.

anyway, i can’t really think of any other points so maybe I’ll add onto this later, but my point still stands that KomaHina is by far one of my favorite ships ever, if not my otp in general. the friends to enemies/rivals to lovers trope and the “i didn’t understand what love was until i met you” trope is still in my top five.

if you have any points you’ve heard that you think i can retort, then please do comment them <3

as of right now tho idk so

[mishacollinsthighsss]

"Sam, what do you want?"

Cas stared at Sam, unsure why the younger brother wanted to talk to him so badly, but now seemed to struggle to get a single word out.

"Listen man, there's- there's things you should know about. It's about..."

Sam trailed of with a sigh and sat down in one of the chairs in the library, so Cas did the same.

"About what?"

He got more and more confused by the second, but he could sense that Sam was really nervous, almost scared, so he tried not to be too impatient.

"It's about Dean."

"What about Dean? Is he- did he get in trouble again when I was gone?"

Sam sighed again, even deeper this time, but shook his head.

"No, that's not- have you noticed anything different about him since you're back?"

Cas furrowed his brows and lowered his gaze to the table, trying to think of anything, but there was nothing, at least not something he'd noticed.

"No, not really. Well, he eats even more, but other than that-"

"Yeah, he eats more because he was starving the last few weeks?"

"Starving?"

Cas tried to keep up with Sam, but it got harder and harder.

"Yeah. He- you know how he is, when someone dies, he always blames himself-"

"It's not his fault. I told you to go, both of you. I thought I could handle it."

"I know Cas, but that's not the point."

Sam brushed his hair behind his ear, and just then Cas noticed that he was shaking a little.

"What is it, then?"

"If you'd stop to interrupt me-"

"If you'd just say what you want to say-"

"Okay, okay, stop. This isn't going anywhere that way."

Cas looked up again, his eyebrows still knitted together, but as soon as his eyes met Sam's, he could see the worry in them, so he closed his mouth and made a gesture for Sam to continue.

"Listen, this wasn't the first time. I mean, it was the first time it was that bad, but... whenever you die, Dean's- he's different. He doesn't eat, drinks whenever he can get his hands on some booze, he doesn't sleep, has nightmares. He's a mess without you, dude."

That definitely wasn't what Cas was expecting, and even though it was good to hear that he was important to Dean, his heart felt heavy because Dean suffered because of him.

"That's normal when you're grieving Sam, you should-"

"No, no its not. Not like that. When- when Charlie died, or Kevin, or even dad... it's different with you."

"Oh."

"Yeah."

Sam took another deep breath, before he locked eyes with Cas, a determined expression on his face.

"Do you love him?"

Cas was taken aback for a second, because of everything Sam could've asked, he definitely wasn't expecting that.

"Of course, you know I love you both-"

"No. No, no, not like that. Are you- are you in love with Dean?"

Cas sucked in a sharp breath, his heart racing. He knew that Sam asked because he didn't know, how could he, Cas tried to hide it as good as he could. He thought about lying for a second, but why should he?

"Yes."

His voice was quiet, almost a whisper, and he couldn't hold Sam's gaze anymore. His eyes fell closed and he had to lower his head once again, because he could feel his cheeks burning.

"Good."

"Good?"

"Yeah."

When Cas looked up again, a small smile appeared on his lips, but the angel couldn't quite figure out what was going on inside the younger brother's head.

"Why?" he asked after a long moment of silence, afraid of the answer, but he was too curious not to ask.

"Because I- I think he loves you too."

Even though his grace was protecting the vessel, Cas could've sworn that in this moment, he was close to a heart attack, but he quickly shook his head.

"No, that's not- he... he doesn't like men, Sam. It's normal that he's grieving me, he said it a few times, I'm like a brother to him-"

"Oh, and you believe everything that comes out of his mouth without any doubt?"

Sam raised an eyebrow, challenging, and Cas quickly shook his head.

"No, of course not, but he- he made it clear that he isn't interested in me that way."

"Goddamnit Cas, do you have any idea what I have to deal with when you're gone?"

"No, I don't know if you've noticed, but I was dead."

The angel's voice was quiet, but he couldn't stop it from shaking completely, so he hoped Sam didn't hear it.

"He's- he's not Dean anymore when you're gone, man. He's just- just an empty shell. God he- he wanted to die, Cas. You've seen him grieving, and when you're gone- that's a whole new level."

Sam looked stressed now, almost desperate, but Cas didn't allow himself to think about it, not even for a second, so he just shook his head stubbornly.

"You two are fucking killing me! Just go and kiss Dean and you'll see."

"Wait- what?"

Both their heads snapped around when all of a sudden, Dean appeared in the library, still wearing his pajama, a cup of fresh coffee in his hand.

"You heard that right, could you two just kiss? Do you have any fucking idea how frustrating it is to see you dance around each other, both of you obviously totally smitten, but neither of you has the balls to make a fucking move?"

Cas stared at Sam with wide eyes as he stood up and stomped out of the room, leaving Dean and Cas alone there.

"You uh- is he- I mean does he-"

"Yes. I'm sorry Dean, I know you don't feel that way and it was inappropriate for Sam to-"

"So you- you love me. Like... in love with me? The whole chick-flick stuff?"

Dean's voice came closer, but Cas was too afraid to look at him, so he stubbornly stared at the table.

"Uh...y-yes."

The angel could practically feel Dean's eyes on him, so he lifted his hand and rubbed his neck, in an attempt to lessen the feeling, but it just got stronger with every second.

"Huh."

"Huh?"

"Thought angels couldn't feel that way."

"Well, we aren't supposed to."

"But you do?"

"Yes."

"Great."

"What?"

"I said great."

"Oh."

"So... you gonna make a move now, or what?"

Dean's voice was close to Cas' ear now, and when he looked up, there noses were touching all of a sudden. Dean's eyes were shining and even though Cas wanted to bring some space between them, he couldn't stop staring. His heart hammered in his chest by now, and he knew he could use his grace to calm it down, but for some reason, he didn't want to.

"Because, y'know, me too. The same thing, I mean. Me too."

"You- you mean you...?"

"Yeah."

Both of them were just whispering, but they could hear each other perfectly, could feel their breaths on their lips, even. For the first time in his existence, Cas felt like he wasn't able to think, wasn't even able to breathe. He hesitated for another second, but then leaned forward to close the gap between their lips. A quiet whimper escaped him when he felt Dean's lips for the first time, followed by a sigh. He'd kissed people before, but not like that. He'd never felt the way he felt for Dean, which made it so much more special to him.

He could hear a distant noise, but before he was able to pull away, two warm hands were on his cheeks and pulled him even closer. Their kiss was messy, almost clumsy because of Cas' lack of experience, but neither of them broke it. After what felt like hours and no time at all, Cas could feel Dean sitting down on his lap, so he hesitantly wrapped his arms around the other man's waist. Apparently, that was a good move, because he could feel Dean smiling.

Dean was sighing quietly too now, so Cas used the chance to deepen it even more. His hands were shaking and he could actually feel his blood rushing through his veins, which made him chuckle just a little.

They didn't know how long they were sitting there like that, just kissing and touching each other, when suddenly, Sam cleared his throat from the other end of the room.

"You guys done soon? Because I found a case."

Dean was the one who pulled away first, a smile on his lips and his eyes shining with happiness, something Cas could stare at forever. His cheeks were flushed and the angel knew that he probably looked exactly the same, but he still turned his head to look at Sam, who was trying to hide a grin.

"If you ever do something like that again Sammy, I'm gonna kill you myself. And I'll make sure that you'll stay dead."

Dean's words were harsh, but there was no heat behind them. Cas tightened his grip around Dean's waist and buried his face at his neck, not ready to let go yet, which made the other man laugh quietly.

"Noted. Anyway, there's this case..."

*****

So, it's 3 in the morning, it's still 26° Celsius outside and I already forgot half of what I wrote. I'm also too exhausted to read over it now, so if there are any mistakes, my apologies 😅

Also I didn't make a tag list now, but I'm gonna tag the people who asked anyway. If you want to get tagged too in future fics, please let me know, and also let me know if you wanna get tagged for destiel, cockles, or both 😊

💙💙💙

@green-blue-heller @sam--ships--it

[frogsmulder]

Maybe There’s Hope: chpt 5 Under the Midnight Moon

Starting from the final events of 09x20 The Truth,  Mulder and Scully tackle their new reality as fugitives. When they  finally settle into things, Scully finds out she is pregnant again. A canon divergent AU where I thought, what if Scully got pregnant whilst on the run instead of at the end of season 11?

3.7k words; rated t; tagging @today-in-fic; read on ao3

The night was mild but the coastal breeze had its biting edge. Nipping at Mulder's toes, it reminded him that he really was in Mazatlán, Mexico, and the beauty of the sky and the sea softly roaring wasn't just a lyrical dream. The music from the clubs on the promenade pulsed through the air; a low hum by the time it reached the beach. He sat on one of the blankets from the car laid out over the soft dips and mounds of the sand, guarding Scully's socks and shoes and Moby as he watched her. Scully, ever his lyrical dream, paddled at the shore, not caring for the power of the elements, but liberated by the tug of the tide. In the candescence of the moon, her blonde hair was illuminated an ethereal silver like a halo, gently billowing in the breeze. Her pants were turned up, the waves cresting and crashing at her feet, the sand no doubt sifting through her bare toes as whisps of seaweed floated at her ankles. There was a lightness to her step that made everyone she took look like a dance of her spirit. Beside her, Emily was jumping over the waves as they rolled in. Her little feet made no splashes in the water but she was giggling and skipping all the same. His heart ached with contentment to see them both enjoy a moment of happiness. Gazing up at the black night sky littered with the warmth of orange light pollution, he thanked the far-off, scattered stars, knowing whoever was up there had smiled on him with mercy.

 Man, you're properly screwed.

The three musketeers appeared behind him with the dulcet tones of Frohike carrying on the wind.

Yeah, dude, you can't keep living like this, Langley added.

"Like what?" Mulder asked defensively.

Byers sat down in front of Mulder and clasped his hands. What the others were trying so eloquently say is that you need to tell her about us.

Mulder rubbed his face in his hands. With his sight darkened, he couldn't tell that the trio was there like they had simply blinked out of existence– no presence, no warmth, no sound of breath greeted him. He was chasing visions in his own head again. He took a deep breath. "I don't know if I can do that to her."

Frohike sympathetically tried to pat his shoulder. Mulder, we had a deal: if you don't treat the lady right, I get to make a pass.

Mulder scrunched his nose. "I don't ever remember making that deal."

 He's right, Frohike, that never happened.

Shut up, Langley, he warned. I might be dead, but I'm no less of a catch.

Because you looked like a wet fish while you were still alive, Langley jibed.

Mulder chuckled, "I didn't even have to say it."

He looked up to see Scully walking back up the beach towards him, a peaceful smile playing on her lips. The reflection of the ocean still twinkled beyond the infinite blue of her eyes. He felt as though he had taken a lungful of seawater, something like an intoxicating potion swirling around his insides, polishing unbridled emotion.

"Talking to yourself again?" she asked cheerfully, pulling a stray strand of hair from her curling lips, blissfully unaware of the company he held.

Beaming up at her, he joked, "One day, they'll lock me up for it."

Come on, man! Frohike exclaimed accompanied by a reprimanding, Mulder... from Byers.

Scully's face fell, a flash of pain darting behind those endless oceans, suddenly turning the air sombre. All at once, the imaginary taste of salt on his tongue spoilt and dried his mouth.

"Please don't say that," she said calmly, her voice a mask free of malice or vulnerability.

"Sorry, I forget," he muttered.

The trio moved out the way as Scully unknowingly walked between them and sat beside Mulder. "It's okay," she murmured, eyes drawn to the water.

Frohike, Byers, and Langley all looked at him expectantly. He ignored them indignantly and laid down with his head in Scully's lap, shuffling on the scratchy blanket to get comfortable. She idly stroked her fingers through his hair, fingertips cool against his side-burns. He shivered from the chill of her touch, but leaned into her affection, letting the tingles shoot down his spine.

Frohike groaned exasperatedly. Let's leave the two lovebirds to it, he said, frowning at Mulder and gesturing for the others to follow. I'm sure he'll tell her eventually.

Mulder chuckled at him and the disgruntled expression on his face as he walked out of sight.

"Are you okay?" Scully asked, a purring lilt to her voice.

"Yeah," he sighed, then nestled further into the cradle of her lap.

She hummed contentedly, continuing to draw waves through his hair. Her stare was fixed not on him, but following the line of the horizon where cargo ships were dotted like tiny toys. She was more peaceful, her spirit soothed for a few hours by the lullaby of the waves. Yet she still kept that part of her private. Her silhouette was stoic, not letting on what undercurrents pained her. He just felt like a sponge, absorbing all her hardship and mirroring it back to her. Her pain was his hurt; her wounds why he wept.

Mulder placed his hand on top of hers by his head, nuzzling his cheek warmly into her palm. "I like it when you're like this," he mused.

She cocked her head with curiosity. "Like what?"

"Carefree," he said simply.

"What do you mean?"

"I can feel you and you're the most relaxed I've ever seen you these last couple of months–" Turning, he sat up and cupped her cheek, holding her as if she were a delicate and intricate work of art, constantly shifting and changing, swirling and charming him with her mystery. He watched the puzzle pieces in her eyes and her jaw shift and tighten. He smoothed her porcelain skin over with his thumb, her cheeks rosy from the chill, no longer thawed by her constant smile. "–But you're still putting on a strong face."

"What do you mean?" she asked again below her breath.

He brought their foreheads together, noses kissing like Eskimos', daring to say what had been on his mind since they had first driven out of New Mexico. "I know you're coping, but it's killing me watching you close off from the world. I don't know how long I can wait for you while I'm in the dark, not knowing what monsters you're fighting. Seeing you then, it was like I got the old, happy Scully back for a moment."

Carefully, she spoke, "It's never been my intention to hurt you. I'm sorry if I've made you feel that way. I, uh, don't think I need to tell you how hard I have found this."

"I know, I'm sorry." Sorry for everything. Sorry that she needed to put up her ten-foot fences. He realised that it was his fault. "I'm selfish for wanting more from you," he mumbled and clenched his eyes closed, willing away the hot sting that tormented him. The air shifted around him: the compress to his forehead vanished, the warmth of a small hand appeared against his other cheek, tending to a tear with a delicate swipe.

"I haven't been entirely honest with you either..." he whispered and waited. Waited for her exclamation of anger; her disappointment; her harsh words telling him that they were nothing if they couldn't trust each other. Yet none of it came. He stumbled over how to order his thoughts. "There are so many things in my head, Scully..."

He slowly opened his eyes to see her piercing ones mere inches from his face. The faint creases that defined them, like fine brushstrokes on the pale canvas of her skin, suddenly became crisp with clarity. Behind her, the rest of the world remained a dark blur, obscured and fading into oblivion. It looked a lot like the inside of his mind: a dark swimming void that only focused to a sharp point when he could see his touchstone.

"I can see people I shouldn't..." he started, his voice strangely calm and docile. Finally saying the words, he felt the ache in his chest alleviate. Keeping her face in focus, he grounded himself in the detail of her laugh lines, having watched them grow deeper over the years. He recalled a time not too long ago when the sole reason he had been placed on this planet seemed to be to make them appear. But that was before he had been abducted; before he'd died; before he'd brought back souls with him from the other side.

"They come to me, talk to me, and I can't tell if it's real or a sick and twisted projection of my subconscious. The Smoking Man, Langley, Frohike, Byers... Emily... I want to believe they are real... but I– I–" he shook his head desperately– "I don't know what to believe."

Scully nodded, unsurprised that the trauma he had seen had manifested into monsters of his own, yet she was surprised that she hadn't thought of the possibility. In the last couple of months, it had been him catching her when she fell, him holding her together when she broke apart. He had been her silent buttress supporting her, for which she was eternally grateful. She knew he suffered too, but he had taken their whole situation in his stride. Yet she had been stupid to think that he was doing okay. In her own world of survival, she had been so disconnected from reality, so ignorant. She should have picked up on the signs: the far off look he'd get like he was watching something else; mumbling to himself like he was with somebody else. Tiny, minuscule things, that she had shrugged off one at a time, all came tumbling together like a tonne of bricks. She bit her lip but she wanted to kick herself.

Brushing back Mulder's shaggy fringe out of his grey-hazel eyes, she glimpsed his soul beneath, entirely trusting, entirely innocent. A pang of guilt hit her deep down that she could have possibly failed him. She sat up, her hands falling into her lap, and sighed.

"I could tell you that stimulating different areas of the brain can provoke auditory and visual hallucinations, that extreme conditions have been known to create the sensation of a 'third person'. But I think the answer is a lot simpler than that: I think it's stress." She gaged his reaction, knowing it was probably not what he wanted to hear, but he continued to listen intently, head softly bobbing with everything she said. She took a deep breath. "The last few years have been hard– to put it lightly. There were days where I couldn't stop wondering what I was going to do without you–"

He smiled at that and she felt a similar one quietly creep into the corners of her mouth, mirroring him.

"–You know, when you weren't there, I used to pretend you were and talk to you as if you were in the room with me. Maybe the ghosts you see are just a comfort and a way to rationalise things."

"Is that your diagnosis, Doc?" he smirked. "Stress?"

Scully could see he was trying to laugh it off and she wished the answer was that simple, but stress didn't cause as sophisticated hallucinations as he was describing– exacerbate the symptoms maybe, but not cause. But she couldn't tell him that and cause undue worry without any chance of finding a real answer. She couldn't put him in more pain. It was better that she alone worried for him rather than them both be uselessly anxious.

"Have you been sleeping properly?" She lifted his fringe back again, checking for signs of tiredness in his eyes. There were dark circles under them, but no more so than usual and they weren't bloodshot.

"Do I ever?" he said as light-heartedly as possible.

She couldn't help but smile a little, letting his hair flop back into place once satisfied. Sighing, she asked more quietly, "You've seen Emily?"

She was aware that she was indulging in a foolish fantasy, but the possibility made her heart race. Rationally, the hallucinations Mulder had would be meaningless. Perhaps it was only curiosity driving her, but the clenching in her chest told her it was more than that. It had been so long since she'd seen Emily's sweet smiling face, that she needed to know, and more than a small part of her wanted to believe.

"Yeah..." Wanting to give Scully some sort of meaning, he added, "She's always looking out for you."

"I miss them both," she whispered.

"Yeah, me too."

The silence between them was filled with the chorus of waves crashing. Like their unspoken words, they tumbled with taut energy until they finally broke on the sand. Mulder wrapped his arms around her and brought them both gently down to lay on the blanket. He could see her mother's guilt plain as day and wished he could wash those fears away for her as effortlessly as she could put his mind at ease. Just looking at her, his troubles seemed to dissipate. Everything else could blur at the seams, fray and untangle, darken into that oblivion, and it would all be okay because Scully would be there.

"I don't know if I've ever told you this, Scully, but I always sleep better when you're near me."

"No, you haven't." She pursed her lips simperingly... "But I know."

He traced his thumb along the blush of her cheek and followed the line of her jaw like brushstrokes on a canvas. He soothed her worry with the repeated motion, watching the wrinkles of her forehead soften. He followed the ups and downs of her nose and cheekbones sculpted from the finest clay. He fell into the endless oceans in the depths of her eyes. She was like a journey in which he always got lost. An epic he would never tire of exploring. Like the old days back on the Vineyard, climbing and cycling and adventuring until the sun kissed the horizon and he was late home for dinner.

He chuckled: he was gazing again.

"Do you remember the last time we were by the sea?" he asked abruptly, tucking a strand of blonde hair behind her ear. "Because I do-- fondly."

Scully hummed, rolling onto her back to look up at the heavens. "The City of Angels. I seem to remember something about strawberries, champagne, and phone calls from bubble baths."

"I seem to remember a bit more than that..."

"There was also the minibar we raided," she offered with a quirk of her eyebrow.

"Before that, do you remember we took our shoes off and walked along the beach?" He sat up on one elbow, facing her. "The stars were out that night like tonight, and I remember thinking, loving you was the best thing I ever decided upon."

Scully turned to meet his gaze with a soft smile of wonderment.

"There was something I regret not doing last time and I want to make it right," he said and stood up, dusting himself off. He held out his hand for her, and she sat up, tilting her head, bemused.

He took a deep breath. "Would you do the honour of letting me have this dance?"

"Always," she smiled, stretching up to grasp his fingers just out of reach. He grabbed her hands and hoisted her up. Wrapping one arm around her waist, Mulder smiled as his hand found that familiar place to rest. Gently entwining his other hand with hers, he pulled her flush against his chest, the heat of her body a comforting blanket against the chill of the night.

Scully winced, hissing through clenched teeth at the press upon her own chest. He immediately relaxed his hold, sensing something was wrong.

"Sorry, my breasts have been a bit tender lately," she explained.

He nodded, allowing a gap between them. "Okay, stand on my feet," he instructed.

She gave him a questioning look.

"Trust me," he chuckled, and she stepped tentatively on top of his own bare feet. "Okay?"

"Yeah, I got it," she laughed, wobbling slightly to keep her balance. Mulder started stepping to an imaginary 3|4 beat, wiggling his toes as their dance took them across the sand. Scully hung closer to him as they waltzed, despite the ache, resting her ear to the soothing metronome of his heart beneath his chest. The da-dum that conducted them pulsed with a vibrancy of life that she had forgotten was possible. For the first time in a long time, Scully felt alive and truly living. She took in a deep breath of seaside air, tasting the tang of salt in the back of her throat. Burying her nose to where his sternum lay clothed beneath his t-shirt, she inhaled again, a deep breath in exchange for a giggle that slipped past her lips. Everything felt surreal and very real all at once.

"Forward, side, close. Back, side, close," he muttered under his breath repeatedly. It wasn't as graceful as he had envisioned it all those years ago, the weight Scully on his feet rendering it more of a charming clomp than the moonlit gentle sway he had hoped.

Her nose peaked upward followed by two bright eyes that held him in regard. "When did you learn to dance?" she asked.

"My mother used to bring us along to her ballroom classes. It wasn't the same as baseball, the thrill of standing in the batter's box, waiting to strike the ball. But I liked it."

His eyes shone with the far-off light of that precious time Before. Memories of walking down to the local village hall with his mother when he was younger danced with nostalgia like the flickering of a film reel in his mind's eye. He fondly remembered having to drag Samantha along, who'd rather stay at home and play Stratego; except their father was always away on business so they had to go.

Scully smiled up at him. "Do all your teaching stunts involve being pressed so close together?"

He gave an honest laugh. "Only when I'm teaching you. You think you got this now?"

"Back, side, close. Forward, side, close," she narrated, and he stopped to let her get off his feet.

"Now put your feet between mine, with one foot on the outside... No, the other one." A little grin worked its way into the corner of his mouth and he asked, "Ready?"

She nodded, following his lead as he slowly started to dance again. He took his time gently easing her into the lilting rhythm, allowing her to catch up with him and bracing her when she stumbled. Despite herself, Scully let out another light laugh, flowing with a newfound grace in his arms. Sighing, aware of herself, Scully laid her head against his chest again. "I bet all the girls must have loved you at Oxford."

She felt a low chuckle rumble through him.

"No?" She looked up in surprise.

"Not once they got to know me," he answered with an innocent shrug. "I was good at scaring them away... One way or another."

"I'm sure that isn't true. And anyway, wasn't Phoebe Green your girlfriend?"

He shook his head: of course she would remember. "Were you seriously jealous of her?"

She sucked in a telling breath. "No... I just didn't like how she sauntered in thinking she could use you," she said honestly, but in hindsight, it would be futile to refuse that seeing them dance more intimately yet than their waltz made her gut clench for other reasons.

Mulder squeezed her hand. "Scully, she couldn't even lift a finger to hold a candle to you."

"I didn't like seeing you hurt."

"Hey, it doesn't matter now. I'm here. You're here. I'm dancing with my beautiful wife," he smirked.

"You wish," she quipped with mirth, but the idea was a thrilling impossibility that made butterflies out of her belly.

"She is beautiful," he insisted and spun her out of hold.

"Beauty is in the eye of the beholder."

She folded back into his arms.

"I'm a lucky man to be gifted with such a sight."

She gazed upwards.

"Love is blind."

"The heart knows best," he whispered, leaning down, a hair's breadth from her face, hesitant and seeking permission.

Scully wasn't sure when they had stopped but she was aware that her toes were curling through the sand, grounding her whilst Mulder's lips beckoned her to fly. He was gentle, but with them, he persuaded her to dive a little deeper, fall a little harder, fly a little higher. When met with his pleading tongue, she took a leap of indulgence until the will for oxygen became too strong. Breaking from the kiss and her consuming haze, she smiled shyly. "Mulder... If you kiss me like that..."

"What?" he husked, forehead resting against hers.

"We'll have sand in places we don't particularly want."

"We have a blanket," he helpfully reminded her.

"Mulder!" she giggled.

He shook his head, rubbing his forehead against hers as he thought. Suddenly, he straightened with an idea; a mischievous grin taking over his countenance. "I want to get strawberries first."

A look of surprise lit her features. "Really?"

"Yeah, we can afford to splurge a little for strawberries."

Scully hummed in agreement; the thought of big, red, fresh, juicy strawberries whetting her appetite. She was suddenly met with the craving for cream as well and licked her lips. "I always knew you'd get me into trouble, Agent Mulder."

"As if you weren't capable of that yourself, Doctor Scully," he teased, and she rolled her eyes in good humour.

"I love you," she whispered for only him to hear, the weight of the words hanging in her voice. The ears of the sea and the stars were not privy to her words, not even God; they were the only two in their own world. Slowly, they swayed together in an embrace that was everything; warming each other from the darkness of the night; shielding each other from the darkness that followed them. Yet Scully allowed herself to worry about Mulder and, for the countless time that night, held him just a little closer.

[b1ksh88p]

Be Mine ⛏

Plot Plot: You’ve been in a few relationships, unfortunately all ending in tragedy. You had a reputation for being a bad omen. Truly you were a sweet girl but it seemed like every single one of your lovers ended up dead or horrendously disfigured in the long run. This Valentine’s Day your boyfriend decides to jump ship for some blonde crushing the little hope you had left for your love life. In a slightly drunken haze you sneak into the mines for a rant about the cursed corporate holiday and to drown your sorrows in the solitude of the mines. But it seems like you’ve got a listener.

Tags/Warnings: Lots of cursing | Sprinkle of angst | Fluff

The cold air of the abandoned labyrinth did nothing to cool you down as you ventured further into its clutches. To put it lightly you were on fire. Every part of you wanted to tear someone apart. The auburn liquid sloshed around as you clumsily stomped past heaps of forgotten debris. If not for your drunken stupor you would’ve turned back. Everyone knew the horrific tale of the pickaxe cannibal murder. Although you were sure the story was somewhat embellished you’ve heard worse. Poor fuck did what he had to do to survive. Anyone else would’ve done the same, it’s human nature to do anything no matter how gruesome to survive.

“Give a girl a box of cheap chocolates and a fucking bouquet of withering roses and she’s supposed to repay ya by sucking your fucking dick and acting like yer the best thing since sliced bread.” You grumble.

The deeper you go the darker it gets. Stone walls become suffocating and everything looks like the enemy. A fight or flight response may have kicked in but you were in no place to think rationally. When your heel broke you fucking snapped.

“Stupid Roses, fuck ass chocolates, fake relationships for fake people who wouldn’t know love if it fucking stabbed them in the face!” You yell throwing the broken heel piece deep into the darkness. “A corporate holiday with no fucking insignificance! Just a money plot and a excuse to fuck and act like you like that worthless pathetic fuck you’re dating that you like them. When all 364 days you’ve been with em ya fucking loathe them!” You continue on tearing up the damned holiday in partially incoherent babbling until you hear glass break.

Despite your conditions you aren’t stupid. “Fuck is that?” You call out whilst backing up. At first you’re sure it’s a group of horny teenagers but through the gritty lights you see a single foreboding silhouette. This was where you run. Or at least you should’ve. Instead you squint your eyes like some tourist taking in the sights and step forward. “Bud y’know the mines are abandoned cuz of the poor guy who had to eat his friends right?” You call out. “I mean do you if this is your thing I support it but it’s kinda weird since you look exactly like the serial killer guy. Spot on cosplay.” You compliment. The figure doesn’t move. It doesn’t even look like he’s breathing. You feel your hairs start to stand up and goosebumps pepper you skin. It seems your liquid courage was fading.

“Welp I’ll leave you be, don’t wanna bore you with the details of this fucked up holiday.” You let out a wry laugh before turning your back on the figure. You get about 12 good steps in before the stride of death crescendos behind you. Now you were running. Your broken heels doing wonders at making this chase the easiest for your attacker. In the midst of running you take them off and throw them off behind you. Now look you weren’t aiming for the guy but when you heard the hit connect and a surprised grunt you got the feeling you were fucked. Instead of running in a straight line you dip into a little crawl space. Maybe he’d give up and fuck off you. To your horror the man crouches down and starts to crawl his way inside.

Without thinking you take the whiskey bottle and crash it on his head. “Leave me alone I don’t even like this fuckass holiday you fucking weirdo!” You cry. He looks up at you and stops trying to fit.

“Why not.” His voice was eerily calm. As if he weren’t some insane pickaxe murderer but a man.

“Well because it’s stupid and to lovy dovy. And because it feels wrong to celebrate it when such a tragedy had occurred.” You explain. “And...and I got dumped today so there’s that.” You huff.

“...You pity me?”

You shake your head. Words weren’t really your strong point and you didn’t need him thinking you were coddling him or anything. Instead you just stare into the glossy eyeholes with your own praying he’d just fuck off. You practically shit yourself when he continued to scramble through and stand up. You grab a rock and stand ready to knock him upside the head with it only have your wrist harshly grabbed mid throw.

“I don’t want your pity.”

This was it. You were gonna die. And it was gonna be painful and super fucking lame. On your headstone it would say:

“Loser girl no one cares about got dumped on Valentine’s Day...also got murdered lol”

Even though you wanted to sob and cry your eyes out you were way to stubborn to go out pleading and begging. “I was being empathetic you weirdo! We do what we gotta do to survive, and you did just that. You aren’t some crazy murderer. You’re just angry and traumatized and that’s ok!” The grip on your wrist only tightened. “Gah! Th-the system failed you dude. The whole fucking city failed you and still is failing you! You ha-have a right to be mad! I’m not excusing what you’ve done b-but shit I would’ve done the same!” You squeal feeling the blood flow completely cease as he tightened his grip.

Suddenly the pain stopped. You open your eyes and rub your poor wrist hoping the feeling would return. He seemed more docile. It was as if his entire aura had changed. The man sat down on a hunk of rubble, his weapon clenched in his grip. If you didn’t know better you could’ve sworn he was crying. It was a silent sob. Nothing overtly dramatic, kind of how like you’d expect a man who’s rarely cried to cry. It was unnerving. The only man you’ve ever seen cry was your dad and that was when he laughed to hard. This...this was gut wrenching.

This monster that was hellbent on killing you seconds ago was now a sad man huddled up in a corner like a child. You could never feel the pain he’s felt, relive the days of utter darkness and skewed rations. Never could you imagine the gritty taste of human flesh. The depravity one must have for themselves. The survivors guilt. The nightmares he must relive. He kept muttering something about the dark and the how he wasn’t a monster. How he just wanted to see the light again.

“It’s ok.”

You weren’t sure you could touch him so you just sat in front of him. He was still shaken up but the sound of your voice seemed to get through to him. “It’s ok and you’re safe. I’m here. I won’t go anywhere I’d you don’t want me to...” You could bare the cold for a night. You’d rather be frozen to death then brutally murdered.

Both of you sat there for what seemed like ages until he moved. You were on the edge of slumber before seeing a gloved hand slither towards yours. You wanted to move it. Make haste and dip but your body had become heavy. Your eyes seemingly weighed down by stones. Before you knew it he was oddly holding your hand. You saw him looking at you intently. Probably waiting for you to scream or pull away but you stayed put. One hand held up your head whilst the other was his to experience. It had probably been awhile since he’s been so vulnerable so you let him have this. It wasn’t like you had anything else to do tonight but sleep and pray that the hang over didn’t beat your ass in the morning. Before you could fall asleep he pulls you into a really awkward half ass embrace against the cold stained suit. It was far more comfortable than the back straining position you were in a second ago but man this guy was bad at ‘snuggling’. You felt like he was gonna smother you! When he found a comfortable position he rested that stupid ass mask on top of your head with a satisfied grunt before you gave up on protesting and fell asleep. How the hell were you gonna get home

When you wake there’s no cold embraces or odd masked men. Instead you find yourself wrapped in some dusty old quilt at the entrance of the mine. For a moment you think everything that occurred was a mere fever dream. A whiskey fueled hallucination. You scramble to your feet and notice a little note that had fallen from the tattered cloth. The paper, or what you hoped was paper and not dried human skin, had fairly neat handwriting. It was short and morbidly sweet.

Thank you.

There was a part of you that was absolutely mortified. The note solidified your suspicions of what had taken place last night. But the other part of you was strangely elated. You turn to the mine and put your hands to your mouth to amplify your words. “THANKS FOR NOT KILLING ME ILL MAKE IT UP TO YOU!!!!!!” You yell happily before heading back into town. You were pretty sure he didn’t hear you but it calmed you to know that he not only spared you but someone actually appreciated your presence.

This was definitely not your final encounter ⛏

#⛏

[zachsgamejournal]

PLAYING: Breath of Fire IV

I think we’re closing in on the end. But in good ole BoF fashion, the last leg is taking the longest. Also, Nina is totally the main character of this game.

NINA

I’ve only ever beaten BoF 3, 4, and 5--though I’ve played 1 & 2. It’s a constant that Ryu is the main character, and that Ryu is the player. Ryu is never (to rarely) given dialog because the player is meant to imagine the voice of Ryu. And while this definitely works for BoF 3 and 5, Nina is clearly the main character in 4.

1. We Start the Game as Nina

In both BoF 3 and 5, we start the game as Ryu, and that’s basically where we stay for the whole adventure (occasionally controlling other characters). BoF 4 has us start with Nina. It’s a simple distinction, but sets up my next point.

2. Nina Makes All the Decisions

My screenwriting professor said the main character makes the decisions that drive the story. In this sense, Ryu is extremely passive. He’s mostly just along for the ride. It’s Nina that offers to help him, Nina that decides he should tag along, and it’s Nina’s quest he joins. Later, Nina decides to rescue Cray. Nina goes to her father for help. Nina asks the gods for assistance. Nina insists they save Ryu. Nina encourages Dies not to abandon Ershin. Nina insists on the helping that furry...thing. All the while, Ryu is just like, “...sure.”

I vaguely know how the game will end, so we’ll see if this all holds up.

3. It’s Nina’s Quest

The game starts with Nina and Cray on a mission to find/rescue her sister. While Ryu is integral to the plot, he doesn’t have a lot of skin in the game. Nina is also royalty, and this game has some Games of Thronesian politics going on. While Ryu’s actions carry little weight beyond the act itself, everything Nina does has the ability to affect policy and international relationships. We see this when the Empire pressures the Alliance to cede territory post Nina’s rescue op failure.

Also, Nina just told Ryu that she loved Cray. Ryu isn’t even the love interest in this game.

I’m actually really happy that Nina is the star. Female characters aren’t normally given the respect they deserve. Maybe instead of Breath of Fire, they should have called this “Wings of Destiny”...cause Nina has wings.

Back to the Plot

So, Ryu went super-Dragon and killed some imperials. The gods have offered to help Ryu, (as long as he plays hide and seek first), and Fou-Lu has escaped the village in which he had started to feel at home.

Nina and the team discuss things and decide that if it’s Ryu’s destiny to meet up Fou-Lu, they might as well confront him proactively. They seem to be under the impression that the empire is using Fou-Lu gain power (if they only knew).

Ursala is the Imperial captain that captured us, but now she’s our captive. The team asks her to help them get into the Empire. She’s confused. It was her mission to bring the dragon to the Empire, so this kind of works out...She agrees and is now a playable party member.

I like her.

Heading back to the warp gate, we learn that it’s broken because of our previous activities (and because we were attacked by Captain Jackass). Ursala tries to make us feel bad, but she works for an evil Empire--so jog-on. We have to head north and need a sandflier but don’t have the cash. This is comical, cause I put in a cheat for infinite Zenny way back when...

We’re supposed to ask a merchant sandflier for help, but we’re too late. Ursala immediately jumps to action and without a word, Scias follows her lead. They take the merchant ship like a band of pirates and it turns out to be a French-accented froggy friend from before that sexually harassed Nina, Marlok. He tries to make use feel guilty, which works on Nina and Cray--but the rest of us know he’s a POS. He offers us a bond to buy a ship, expecting that we’ll do great things and thus able to cash in on our success.

We get to a checkpoint, but it’s blocked. Ursala wants to fight the guards, but Nina is against it. We do the non-violent solution of trampolining over the wall. We get to a ship yard...I only now realized in the game that the oceans aren’t water--but mud. weird...where’s all the water? So the only seas are up north.

The captain doesn’t want us on without the blessing of the sea god. We got to coastal cave and find the Sea Dragon there...I think. We get his blessing and are good to go. The captain now doesn’t want women on board. The women insist that they are tough and have been through a lot. The muscle the dude we keep fighting shows up, and it’s implied that his defeat would prove we’re tough. Ursala shoots him and falls off the mass of the ship. So  a new test of courage is needed. Ursala and Nina must stay within the hull of the ship over night with ghosts and bugs. They succeed.

As we travel across the sea, we fight muscle dude again (he was much stronger this time). And then the wind stops. The sailors think this area is haunted, maybe by a god. We go check it out. The dungeon is interesting, but frustrating. You have to walk across planks to get to the other side, but the planks break and drop you down into the hull. There’s a light over your head to warn you when you’re about to fall, but I still fell a lot. In the hull, as you walk, skulls that are spread about rattle and vibrate: it’s eerie and entertaining. Eventually we find a rock creature that thinks of itself as a god, but it’s just a rock powered by god-power. So we kill it.

No remorse.

The wind returns and we make it across the sea. After traveling through a jungle, we meet a furry thing. I feed it some food and it seems happy...I think. At the end of the jungle we find a treehouse and are attacked by more furries. The previously furry comes to our defense and we meet Beyd. He has married one of the furries and maybe these are his children? Cray had my reaction and was like, “Well...uh, anyway--how do we get to the empire?”

One of the furries gets sick and Nina vows to save it (cause she’s the main character!). This brings us to an interesting, but not super fun mini game. We get to sail the boat, but you have limited supplies. Every second you’re on the seas, the supplies get used, but they’re used faster if you row. Rowing is necessary because the wind doesn’t always blog in the direction you need. So you have to decide whether to burn supplies by rowing, or wait for the wind to change directions. There’s places to find and treasure to discover. It is, kinda fun...

While we’re out here collecting medicine on the high seas, I also find the sea god: SCORE!

We save the furry and are guided to some islands that are available to walk across when the tide is low. So we venture a cross some tropical keys. It’s pretty. The group gets tired and Nina insists on taking a break: cause she’s the main character. After our rest, the tide has risen and the group is trapped. Cray is pissed and Nina feels responsible.

This is an interesting part of the game cause the group has to survive on an island and reflect on their mission. Ursala warns it could be months or years before the tide recedes. Chill Ursala. The group explores the island and finds both water and and great fishing spot. We’re gonna be fine. Just delayed.

Scias likes the island, as he just sleeps all day. After a while, Cray chills out and apologizes for his temper. While Ryu is casting a line, Nina reveals that she’s in love with Cray, causing Ryu to trip. Nina reflects on her feelings, unsure if they’re true and doubtful that Cray feels the same.

The tide recedes and the team escapes. We come to a riverlands that requires some log riding and log dodging. It’s cute, but I want to get out of here...

Fou-Lu, after escaping the village, receives a direct hit from the hex canon. They apparently used the friendly lady that help Fou-Lu as a “sacrifice” to power the canon. EVIL! Fou-Lu survives and arrives at the capital. He meets statue guardian that recognizes him as the first emperor. Fou-Lu orders the guardian to destroy the imperial city. Fou-Lu is pissed, and just doesn’t seem to think humans are worth it...

As the guardian destroys the city, Fou-Lu cleans up loose ends, finally killing the general that ambushed him on the night of his awakening, and then killing the current emperor. The Emperor first tries to act subservient to Fou-Lu, but then stabs him with the “dragon slayer” sword. It doesn’t work and Fou-Lu laughs in his face.

Similar to Breath of Fire 3, the game has reached a point where it doesn’t have more story to tell, but wants to add hours. So there’s tons of little quests and obstacles that have little to do with the overall plot. It’s sad, because the minigames and mini-nations they’ve created are really interesting.

I tried to think back to how Final Fantasy 7 handled this. I think, for the most part, the game doesn’t make its endgame clear until much later. Most of the game is, “What should we do now?” So I don’t feel there’s as much a “rush” to get to the end. Also, much of the game is about tracking Sephiroth, so you’re really looking for clues as you find obstacles, vs having an end destination and just running into a million reasons why you can’t get to it. You feel out of control and inconvenienced. But these obstacles would make really interesting and fun side quests. Having them as options would absolutely make them more interesting.

Another thing that Final Fantasy 7 really succeeds at is making each new area a new piece of the puzzle. You’re always learning history about the world or a character. So while it might be a brief obstacle, it’s also an interesting deeper dive into the world. Breath of Fire’s diversions don’t feel as enlightening.

Still, BoF4′s diversions still feel like progress cause we inch closer to the goal...it’s just that we’re not getting much character or world development in the process.

Combat

I do prefer the combat over BoF3 (and many RPGs). I like that the other characters are always on-call in the battle, and it’s easy to switch out (more so than Final Fantasy X -- how I remember it anyway). I’ve done zero grinding, and I’m pretty proud that I’ve survived so far. After crossing the sea, it seemed like the enemies were getting ahead of me, but I got better at using the spell combos (which are cool!). So surviving a few battles usually meant getting a few levels up. When I first played the game, i was cool with grinding, but I’m glad I don’t have to now. The only thing that is cheating: I gave myself 99999+ zenny. So I’m able to stock up on healing supplies. Though it helps, I’m sure a few hours of grinding would have me being just as well stock on healing supplies.

Is it better than Breath of Fire 3?

I’m a little torn. Breath of Fire 4 is “epic”. There are multiple nations that have a strong sense of culture and history. The mythology around the dragons is of the galactic scale. World War is in the balance and my party includes two members of royalty and two semi-gods. The world feels huge even if the story is pretty linear.

In contrast, Breath of Fire 3 had three nations--that I could tell: Wyndia, Eastern Kingdom, and across the sea. Strangely, Wyndia had gangster cities, gangster markets, and amoral lab that was accidentally making mutants. While eastern kingdom seemed pretty chill and peaceful--but lacked a ruling entity. Hmmm...

Where Breath of Fire 3 feels “better” is that it feels more personal. The story starts small: a lost dragon-boy found my starving thieves. We live in a small town and solve small-town issues. This slowly grows to include local gangsters, a kingdom, and a dragon holocaust before we battle God. I like Breath of Fire 4′s characters, but I feel like I have a stronger bond with BoF3′s. Also, I felt like BoF3 tried to explore the grey area: killing monsters that had feelings. I felt emotionally challenged in the different scenarios. Whereas, BoF4 is always: “We’re the good guys, and we do the good things!”

[lukecastellandeservedbetter]

17. Me and Mine, You and Yours

a/n: this one hurt. Shoutout to @theartofimaginaryfriends for letting me bounce ideas off of her at random times during the day. 

Read the others!: Masterlist

Luke was sipping his coffee and trying to relax a little. He had been up since before dawn, after being plagued by nightmares all night. No matter how hard he tried to recall them however, he couldn’t pull the images forward in his mind. 

One thing was certain though. 

He had a really bad feeling about Kansas. 

He remembered being in Kansas when he was younger, before he met Thalia or Annabeth. It wasn’t kind to young demigods. He spent his time fighting karpoi, running around looking for some kind of shelter and avoiding authorities when the monsters got a little overzealous trying to eat him. 

But this feeling wasn’t like it was back then. It was darker, twisting his stomach in knots, and shot pain behind his eyes whenever he thought too hard about it. Every nerve in his body tensed for battle, every muscle coiling in anticipation to run. A cold draft he couldn’t escape sent shivers down his spine and caused goosebumps to rise up and down his arms. 

He got the funny feeling Piper wasn’t sharing everything about what she saw in her blade. 

As he watched the sunrise, the other demigods slowly got up. Jason was first, closely followed by Hazel and Frank. He figured it was a Roman thing. Next was Annabeth, then Leo, and then Percy. Finally, they arrived in the drop off spot, and Leo went to grab Piper so they could dish out roles. 

“I need to finish repairing the ship,” Leo told the group. “And Annabeth, I’d love it if you stuck around, since you’re the only one who kinda understands how this works.” 

Annabeth looked at Percy apologetically. 

“I’ll come back to you,” Percy promised quietly. “Promise.” 

Annabeth nodded and kissed his cheek and turned to Luke as Leo and Frank went at it. “You’ll be with them, right?” 

Luke shrugged. “Yeah, I can tag along. You can never have too many guys with swords.” He offered a small smile, ignoring the nagging feeling in the back of his head, telling him something was off about this whole stop. 

The four of them- Jason, Percy, Piper and Luke -made their way through the fields after Leo dropped them off, walking all the way to the highway. “We should get off the ground,” Piper commented, sounding just as anxious as Luke felt. 

“I’ll get us a ride,” Percy grinned. 

“No, I got it.” Jason told him. 

Jason whistled, and Percy closed his eyes, concentrating. Luke raised his eyebrow watching them, glancing at Piper. “Who do you got?” He mumbled. 

Piper looked up at him and shrugged. “Who is Percy, uh, calling?” 

Luke shrugged and looked back at the boy. Suddenly, the temperature dropped a little as a horse made of clouds burst down from the sky. Not far behind, a familiar black pegasus followed suit. 

“Blackjack,” Luke said, surprised, looking at Percy. “He’s still around?” 

Percy looked at Luke just as surprised. “You remember him?” 

“Well yeah, he was my horse,” He frowned. “It was a pain in the ass trying to keep all the monsters away from him.” 

Percy regarded Luke curiously and looked at Blackjack, who seemed nervous, and aggressive, around Jason’s horse. “Hey buddy, it’s okay, they’re friends.” Percy told him, petting him carefully. “Feel like taking me and Luke for a ride?” 

Blackjack glanced at Luke. “He’s on our side,” Percy told him. “It’s okay.” 

Luke couldn’t hear what Blackjack was thinking like Percy could, but he seemed relatively okay with the idea of taking Luke. He just hoped it wasn’t because Blackjack was planning to buck him off. 

They headed out, Percy and Luke in the air on Blackjack, Piper and Jason on the ground on Tempest, until they found the 32 mile marker. They touched down and dismounted. “You’re right, no sign of the wine dude,” Percy said to Blackjack, looking around. 

“Excuse me?” A voice called out. 

Luke recognized the god, not by his looks, but by how he carried himself. 

Bacchus or Dionysus, the guy was an asshole. 

Luke tried to focus on the conversation, but he found it increasingly difficult to concentrate. Piper tried to charm Bacchus, Percy was running his mouth, and Jason was trying to remain diplomatic. He could see them talking, and hear the sounds of their voices, but the actual words seemed muffled, like the world was slipping away from him. 

Panic seized his brain. His blood ran cold, his breathing turning ragged as the almost familiar feeling started taking over his limbs. He would have cried out if his voice hadn’t tightened around the lump in his throat, as if someone was slowly crushing his windpipe, letting him breathe just enough to survive. 

“-a trap.” Bacchus’ voice broke through the barrier in his ears, and with that the god was gone. 

Luke felt like he was drowning. He watched Percy and Jason draw their swords, and he could faintly hear a woman telling Piper to choose between the two boys. When she refused, the boys turned on each other and started fighting. 

‘Watch, Luke Castellan,’ The same woman’s voice chimed in his head, clearer now. ‘Watch as I take those you care about away from you, destroy them just as you destroyed my son.’ 

Luke tried to fight harder, but Gaia and her spirits were stronger, more ancient than Kronos. Kronos had allowed him to regain his body at different points, so he could regain more strength. 

Gaia was in no such position. 

Luke watched his own hands reach for the Imperial Gold blade in his sheath, pulling it free, out of his control. ‘And once they reach their demise, you will receive yours.’ 

For a horrified moment, his eyes found his reflection in the blade. They were solid gold, and he was sent into a deeper spiral, his mind spinning faster. He banged harder on the cage in his mind, begging for a crack, for a weakness, anything. But the panic was too strong, and he wondered foolishly if he would somehow suffocate himself before the gold blade could even touch his skin. 

He watched helplessly as Piper panicked, looking between the three demigods, trying to figure out who to save, how to save them, and as Percy and Jason fought each other, equally matched in skill, all of it a muffled blur. He stood there, unable to move his legs as if they were stuck in the ground, and were trying to pull him beneath it, his hand raised, the tip of his sword ready to plunge into his Achilles Heel under his arm. 

Jason hit the ground. Percy got up, raising his sword. 

“Eidolon, stop.” 

Piper’s voice rang clearly through the haze and for a moment, Luke’s limbs felt lighter, connected to his body again. The ocean he was drowning in receded, if just for a second, and he felt like gasping for air. He managed to regain enough control to drop the sword before his hands when rigid again, the spirit taking over once more. 

“You’re spirits from the Underworld, and you’re possessing Percy Jackson and Luke Castellan, is that it?” 

“We will live again,” Luke found a voice that wasn’t his own, joining Percy’s in unison. 

Piper seemed to be focusing on Percy more, her voice drifting away as Luke’s mind once again fell underneath the waves of control. 

Smack. 

A stinging sensation on his cheek seemed to pull Luke out of it entirely. His body was exhausted, and his knees buckled as he crumpled to the ground. A pair of warm hands grasped his bicep, steadying him from completely face planting. 

“Luke? Luke, answer me,” Piper said softly, concern laced in her tone. 

“I’m-” His throat closed around the word ‘fine’ and he choked up. 

He could feel the hot pressure of tears pressing against his eyes and he shook his head, his body shaking. 

“I know it’s scary,” Piper cooed, and Luke couldn’t even be bothered to resist the Charmspeak Piper was laying on him. “But I need you to get up, and walk with me and Blackjack, okay? He can’t carry you, Percy and Jason at the same time, and I’m not leaving you behind.” 

“Are they okay?” He whispered, his heart hammering, avoiding looking at her. 

“They’re alive.” Piper assured him, sliding his sword back into its sheath. “C’mon, you can sit down when we get back to the Argo II. I don’t want to stick around if they decide to come back.” 

Luke nodded and let Piper help him to Blackjack who seemed to understand Luke was barely holding on. He offered his neck for Luke to hold onto, and between him and Piper, they managed to get the three boys back to the ship. 

[littlepanduh-writes-365]

Day 51

Title: “Half-Asleep”

Description: Heejin and Hyunjin talk before going to bed.

Prompt: “I know this is cheesy, but I love when you’re half asleep and you’re talking nonsense.”

Features: 2jin (Loona)

HOW HAVE I NOT POSTED 2JIN? THEY ARE MY FAVORITE SOFT SHIP. 

Word Count: 1,360

Tags: Fluff

Heejin is not Hyunjin’s first girlfriend, nor is she her first love. However, despite dating for 6 months, there are many moments when she catches her puppy love for Heejin. It’s a rather odd feeling, but it’s warm and it simply makes her happy. Maybe it’s not a bad sentiment, but Hyunjin really thought she’d stop having these kinds of emotions a long time ago. 

Puppy love. Hyunjin likes to give the excuse that Heejin looks like a puppy, but she really doesn’t know why Heejin makes her feel like a high-schooler falling in love for the first time. It’s crazy how just holding her makes her heart flutter and the smell of her shampoo causes her cheeks to turn pink. 

Tonight contained one of those tender moments. 

It’s nothing special. The two are just cuddling after a long night. Heejin had a midterm in the morning and Hyunjin had a long shift in the afternoon. They reconvened at dance practice that night and now they’re exhausted. 

Heejin wants to catch up on lost time. She’s been ignoring Hyunjin since the sight of her girlfriend makes her want to ridicule her in some way and Hyunjin never lets her down without a fight. In a softer sense, Hyunjin also has her persuasive ways of getting Heejin to go to sleep early, so she’s spent late nights at the library. 

Now, Heejin doesn’t have to hold back. She’s in Hyunjin’s arms, clutching onto that flannel shirt she hates and dozing off to the waves of Hyunjin’s breathing. The only light in the room is coming from the moon through the blinds. Conversation is low. Both of them were more than ready to pass out, but Heejin was eager to have conversation. 

“And then I told Haseul-unnie.” There’s some muffled words. “I loved the smell of the ocean, you know?” Heejin says a few more jumbled words. Hyunjin wastes energy trying to decipher it. “I’ve always wanted to eat pizza by the river. It’s not the ocean, but it at least smells like water. It doesn’t smell good, but you know what I mean.”

No, Hyunjin doesn’t know what she means, but she’ll try to keep that in the back of her head. Throughout the six months they’ve been dating, Hyunjin has learned that Heejin partially sleeptalks. 

It started when they were doing long distance over the summer. They’d video chat with each other until they fell asleep. Heejin insisted she’d stay awake because she thinks the sight of Hyunjin falling asleep was cute. However, Hyunjin would always wake up when Heejin was spewing nonsense with closed eyes and a face half-sunken into a pillow.

The topics were always anime-related or something on Heejin’s mind, specifically things she likes. Through her sleep-talking, Hyunjin learned the chord progression to Heejin’s favorite song, her favorite brand of clothing, and how she hates pigeons. Hyunjin has no idea how any of this information will benefit her anytime soon, but the idea of knowing trivial facts about Heejin seems very endearing.

“Now that I think about it, I think Haseul-unnie and Sooyoung-unnie are suspiciously close. What do you think, Hyun? If they get together, we should double date with them. How about playing DDR at the market? That sounds like fun.”

Ocean smells. Pizza by the river. Double dates. Dance Dance Revolution. Night at the market. 

Actually, tonight was more beneficial than usual. Maybe Heejin really wants to go on a date. Hyunjin likes the idea of that. They can go to the night market on Friday night. Heejin always looks pretty under the city lights. It’ll be cold and Hyunjin can give her jacket or they can share warmth by holding hands. What food does Heejin want? It doesn’t matter. She’ll just get two things that Heejin suggests and they’ll share. 

They’ll have to save the double date, the river date, and the arcade for another time. Hyunjin wants Heejin all to herself this weekend. 

Oh wait. 

Another time. 

How much time does Hyunjin have with Heejin?

Hopefully, a long time. 

Heejin probably likes that, too. 

There are those butterflies again. How does the thought of a long time make Hyunjin giddy and why is she thinking of the unrealistic forever? She doesn’t care and maybe it’s stupid and dangerous, but it makes her happy and she’d like to think Heejin feels the same. Hyunjin is glad Heejin’s eyes are probably closed because she’d for sure tease her for the rosy cheeks. 

The girl living in her heart rent-free distracts her. “What are you smiling about Kim Hyunjin? I didn’t even get to the punchline.”

Hyunjin quietly snorts. Was Heejin telling a joke? Nothing Heejin was saying even made sense. In fact, she was sure her girlfriend was about to fall asleep with how she’s speaking with slow and slurred words. 

For a second, Hyunjin is a little self-conscious of how close they were—the way that Heejin could feel her smiling and it woke her up from any stupor. Her stomach churns thinking about how comfortably intimate they were. 

“It’s nothing.” Her cheeks are hurting  from smiling, but the amount of serotonin rushing through her body wouldn’t stop. (It’s not like she wanted it to stop anyways.)

Heejin lazily pinches her side, causing Hyunjin to pull away and grab Heejin’s hands. 

“Heekkie!” She lets out a giggle before loosening her grip.

The owner of the nickname also lets out a low chuckle. “Just tell me.” The whine sounds like it was supposed to be paired with a teasing pout, but Heejin also has a goofy grin on her face. “I bet it’s not that cheesy. You’re too wise, like Eric.”

Hyunjin blinks a few times. She can’t decide if she wants to figure out who this Eric person is or just let Heejin begin her half-sleep-talking again. 

Heejin answers her question. “You know? From Full Metal Alchemist? The guy with the mechanical arm?”

Upon realizing Heejin was talking about an anime character, Hyunjin huffs out some air. Elric not Eric. “Edward.”

The smaller girl just tightens her grip on their interlocked hands and she smiles. “Yeah. That dude.”

Hyunjin just tucks Heejin closer to her. “No, but this is cheesy,” she chuckles. There is a pregnant pause between the two, so Hyunjin decides to concede.  “I don’t know. I just— I love when you’re half asleep and you’re talking nonsense.”

There’s silence between the two and Hyunjin’s slightly convinced that Heejin did fall asleep. 

She’s about to sigh in relief, until Heejin slips away from below her and turns her back towards her. Hyunjin is completely flustered at the reaction. Did she say something wrong?

“Who are you and what have you done to my girlfriend?” Heejin clutches onto the blanket. She doesn’t want to show that she was equally affected by the puppy love even though it was really obvious. 

This was their way of showing affection: making a joke out of it and shrugging it off. Hyunjin was supposed to be offended by it, but she wanted to tease Heejin a little more. 

She scoots closer to her and puts her hands around her stomach. Heejin tries to wiggle her way out of it, but Hyunjin knows Heejin likes it. 

Hyunjin leans in closer to her ear. “It’s not my fault you’re so cute.” 

It’s almost laughable at how visible her ears turn red. Hyunjin makes note to take advantage of that response in the future, but for now, she knows both of them are tired and they have class tomorrow. 

Heejin cannot muster up a response and lets out a whine. Hyunjin recognizes the annoyance and loosens her grip as she closes her eyes and gets a whiff of Heejin’s shampoo again.  

It’s quiet and Hyunjin can feel herself sinking deeper into the bed, but Heejin turns around again. With heavy lids, Hyunjin opens her eyes, thinking Heejin would be staring at her, but Heejin was attempting to get back to her favorite position in the crook of Hyunjin’s neck. 

Hyunjin pulls her closer and adjusts her head so Heejin could be comfortable. Within a few more breaths, the couple falls asleep. 

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

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[asherranceoftheheart]

Cooking On Sunshine - Antiaverage JSE Drabble

Character/s: Chase Brody, Antisepticeye Warnings: Soft!Anti, Ego Shipping Genre: Fluff Masterpost of my Stories AO3 edition of the Post

Tag List: @the-rampaige @iris-the-asparagus @sqxxddygremlin @awkward-bullshit @jaysflight @assbutt-of-the-readers @humblecacti

Chase peeked into the living room of the Septic HQ and frowned when he only saw Jackie lazing the day away on the couch on one of his rare day off from saving the city.

“Heya offbrand Spiderman,” the teasing nickname got the other’s attention and Jackie perked up with a scowl on his lips as he met Chase’s smirking eyes. “Have you seen Anti around here?”

“Just for that nickname, I shouldn’t answer you.” Jackie huffed but he yawned and sat up. He furrowed his brows and scratched at his beard absentmindedly while he searched his memory for the last time he had seen the eldest ego. After a while, he shook his head. “Sorry dude, either I didn’t notice him coming by or he didn’t enter this room for the past eight hours.”

Jackie yawned again, trying to rub the sleep away from his drooping eyes. For a second, it seemed like he wasn’t even seeing Chase at all.

The father looked at the hero’s state and sighed with a small smile on his lips. He said, “Aight… Thanks hero, but you really should go sleep in your bedroom. If Hen sees you sleeping there he’s gonna give you a lecture about ruining your spine and not taking care of yourself.”

Jackie muttered something far too low for Chase to hear but he did stand up. He started shuffling over to the exit and gave Chase a friendly nudge on the shoulder with his own.

“‘M gonna do that then,” Jackie let out another jaw-breaking yawn and gave Chase a sleepy teasing smirk. “Try not to traumatize Marv with your flirting again if he accidentally stumbles upon you two, okay?”

Chase stuck out his tongue at the other childishly, his eyes glittered with mischief.

“Accidentally, my ass,” Chase snipped but his grin dulled the sharpness of the words. “With how often he kept cockblocking the two of us, I think he’s doing it intentionally.”

“Well, you know Marv. He has the worst luck anyone could ever have.”

“... Ah. That’s true. His reactions are still over exaggerated though.” Chase chuckled as the memory of Marvin screaming that his eyes are burning after he walked in on him and Anti making out in his recording office flashed through his mind. “Sure, it’s funny but it’s really too dramatic to take seriously.”

“Funny.” Jackie gave him a Look. “Anti’s rubbing off on you too much. You’re becoming a sadist.”

“That’s not the only thing rubbing on me—” Chase danced away from the playful swipe Jackie made for his face, laughing with his eyes sparkling with amusement.

The hero rolled his eyes at the teasing but there was a smile teasing at the corner of his lips, “TMI, Chase, TMI.”

With one last chuckle, Chase waved Jackie off and continued deeper into the HQ. Just as he was about to pass the doorway of the kitchen, he heard a familiar voice crackling and screeching out curses as loud clangs of something steel or metallic fell down the floor.

“How the fuck does he make this look so easy?” He heard Anti hiss out before another litany of curses followed the sentence, the being vowing to curse the person, who made the vague as fuck recipe that he found, eternal suffering.

Chase nudged open the door quietly and leaned on the doorway, watching Anti scowling down at his phone while there was a lot of mess around the room. The father could only be thankful that Anti hasn’t burned down the house yet which… Actually, that’s a big improvement against Henrik’s attempt.

He noticed the amount of flour and broken egg shells literally the top of the kitchen island along with a bag of choco chips and cooking utensils for baking.

“Why doesn’t it come out right?” Anti pouted as he looked down at his mutated choco chips.

“If you want, I can teach you.” Chase finally decided to speak up, the demon could really get hyperfocused on his task to the point that he would completely shut out the world. When that happens only he and Jack could snap Anti out of it.

Anti’s head snapped up and he gave him a deer-in-headlights wide eyed look. You would think he was a child who was caught with his hands inside the cookie jar in the middle of the night.

“This was supposed to be a surprise for you!” Anti hissed and protectively covered the things on the kitchen island with his body, adding more flour stains to his green apron.

Chase smiled fondly at his boyfriend. A lot of people seems to think that Anti’s just taking advantage of him but he knew better. The demon was an absolute sucker for his puppy dog eyes and loves spoiling the shit out of him. It felt really nice to be taken care of. Although sometimes he was worried that he was the one who was taking advantage of Anti’s soft spot for him.

He crossed over the kitchen and moved behind the island over to his lover’s side. He trailed a finger over the flour messing up the table and then tapped Anti’s nose with it, chuckling when the demon nearly went cross-eyed at staring at the white mark on the tip of his nose.

“How about I teach you how I make some and then you can surprise me with it in the future?” Chase compromised, he walked over to the nearby drawer and brought out his own orange apron that had ‘The World’s Best Dad’ stitched onto it.

There was sullen silence from Anti as he sulked at having failed his plan at surprising him. Chase stood in front of the demon and brushed his lips against his cheek.

“I really appreciate it, Anti.” Chase leaned over so that he can look into Anti’s beautiful forest green eyes that seemed to shift different shades in response to his emotions. “I love you.”

Anti froze as earnest baby blue eyes peered into his soul and he horrifyingly could feel his cheeks heating up while his erratic heartbeat practically tore itself out of his chest from how hard it was beating. He looked away and ignored the small giggle Chase made and just pushed the flour and utensils towards his lover.

Chase took them with a bemused smile on his lips and then he pulled Anti in front of him and held his hands in order to guide him.

“Okay, first things first, you have to measure the ingredients…” Chase began teaching Anti.

The demon swore that he’ll master this recipe and more and then surprise Chase with a full blown meal next time. For now, he’ll enjoy the younger ego’s attentions and gentle patience as he taught him how to cook.

Bonus:

“Say aaah~” Marvin froze when he stepped inside the kitchen to get some snack only to find himself smack on the face with the view of Chase sitting on Anti’s lap feeding him a cookie with a flirty smile while he leaned forward to infringe on the smirking demon’s personal space.

“Guys, this is the kitchen.” Marvin squeaked out, he was not going to make the same mistake before of not interrupting the two out of politeness. He saw far too much of Chase’s skin that day.

Anti’s smirk dropped and Chase huffed and dropped his chin on Anti’s shoulder with a petulant scowl.

“Way to cockblock us, bastard.” Anti irritably said as he glitched a knife towards Marvin who instinctively set up a magical barrier to block it. “You’re doing this on purpose, aren’t you?”

“You think I want to see the two of you fuck?!” The magician practically screeched out, his voice gaining ten levels of pitchness.

“Well, you keep on walking on us Marv. This makes… what?” Chase counted at the top of his head. “The twentieth time you’ve cockblocked us?”

“I have the shittiest luck in the universe and you know it!”

“More like the best luck if I have to say anything.” Anti piped up.

“No, you didn’t need to say anything.”

[lyannas]

No, I don’t hate GRRM, and I don’t hate ASOIAF.

It seems whenever I offer a criticism of ASOIAF and the way it’s been written, I receive a flood of messages asking me, “do you even like ASOIAF?” or “if you hate GRRM so much, then why do you read his books?”

Both types of questions are annoying and willingly ignorant.

I, along with many other people in this world, consume media critically. I search for flaws the same way I search for highlights. I make lists of what I like and don’t like. There’s a good chance that if I’m still talking about it months (or in ASOIAF’s case, years) after I had initially seen/read it, there is something about it that I liked enough to have latched onto it.

As a beginning ASOIAF fan I was extremely uncritical. I found nothing in particular to complain about except maybe a few minor grievances here and there. I romanticized ships like Rhaegar/Lyanna, I thought Jon Snow was a flawless character, I found every protagonist to be pleasant enough and every antagonist to be unpleasant enough.

As time (and GoT seasons) dragged on, some things I did not consider before were called to my attention. I read some meta. I browsed tumblr and reddit. I became more enlightened through reading these opinions and thought pieces until I slowly began to embrace some of these ideas and formed my own opinions around them.

I soon found myself bothered by the romanticization of Rhaegar and Lyanna. I found myself bothered by how often rape and sexual assault were introduced in the books. I found myself bothered by the depiction of the Dothraki, then later of the Dornish, Summer Islanders, and other characters that were depicted as PoC. When I was able to put those feelings to words, I received feedback both positive and negative. People agreed with me. People disagreed with me. I was corrected many times, I shared many back and forth constructive conversations, until I’ve reached where I am now, still sometimes wrong but a person with my own opinions and grievances on this book series I latched onto.

Why did any of this happen? Why I read and reread and learn and grow? Why did I introduce my criticism? Why did I bother at all? Because I love ASOIAF. I fell in love with the story, the characters, the complexity, the details, the worldbuilding, all of it, and I was not satisfied with the books alone, so I sought out more writings, more fans, a community where there is an exchange of ideas and where I could delve even deeper into the series than ever before.

The first thing I ever wrote that I tagged as “my meta” was a criticism on how GRRM wrote misogyny and sexual assault into the narrative but failed to address those issues within the narrative. I wrote that three years ago and I still can’t believe I did that, I can’t believe it got 100s of notes and that I got a dialogue going. The response was encouraging, because it told me that people are listening to me, people agree with me, there are others out there who love the books as I do but are also bothered by the same things as me! That’s crazy!

Yet somehow, this criticism of GRRM’s writing is often translated into: “oh, so you must hate GRRM”. No! I don’t! I hate how he wrote some parts of this story, but do I hate him personally? No! Why would I? I don’t know him. I’m irritated at his writing choices, particularly with how he wrote race and sexism. Those two things are real things people like me and millions of other deal with everyday, so when one of us say “hey, I’m bothered with how he wrote the Dothraki as a dark-skinned barbaric horde with no personality traits except Rape and Violence” it is not the same thing as saying “I think GRRM is toxic waste, should be sealed in a lead drum and buried 20 feet underground”. Stop translating criticism, especially that which comes from a personal place, as some sort of thesis on the man himself. It’s insulting and reductive and just says to me “hey, your points make me uncomfortable and/or I don’t understand it, but I did see you mention GRRM a few times in your writing so it looks like you have something against him”. It tells me that you missed the point completely.

So please folks. I beseech you. Stop doing that. Stop derailing. Stop believing that those of us who criticize ASOIAF are part of some crusade against this 69 year old white dude. He’s never harmed us personally, I assure you. He wrote some amazing literature that we have all eaten up and eagerly have been waiting for more, we’re all a little bored here, and he’s given us lots of time to reflect on the flaws and isms of his writing. Let us do that without assuming that we’re all waiting with pitchforks outside of house ready to skewer him Oberyn-vs-Mountain style because of something we didn’t like.

Moreover, if you read something that you disagree with, don’t take it personally. Either build an argument in return or let it go. Stew over it with your friends or alone, idc. Just don’t go stomping into inboxes derailing the OP’s post with ad hominems and red herrings, okay?

I once joked that I love the books so much that sometimes I hate them. ASOIAF is like that best friend I get along with really well, but then they say something racist or catcall a woman on the street, I have to yell at them until they learn to behave again.

Anyways, thanks for reading, and please don’t make me write another post like this again. Please.

[thefudge]

TLJ thoughts, post-viewing

sooo, i have a lot of feelings about a lot of things. also the subtitles didn’t prepare me. for a lot.

this movie is made up of many quiet, non-verbal moments and rian johnson lets those moments sink in and dwell with you and that’s great

rey exploring the workings of the force, for example. there’s a really cool sequence where she’s trying to find out who her parents are and she lowers herself in the embodiment of the dark side and it’s very trippy and cool. it’s not rushed and it’s v atmospheric. she gets the incentive to do that thanks to kylo. his revelations about luke and his general aura of “troubled darkness” inspire her to dig deeper.

i think what i liked most about reylo was its sense of gratuitous intimacy. what i mean by this is that they seemed to connect without effort, without having to manipulate the plot to make it fit. they seemed be in their own little movie, dealing with things beyond the usual surface level of star wars ‘good vs. evil’. kylo’s philosophy about letting the past go is definitely flawed, but the way the movie frames reylo, they do seem to “let go” of their surroundings and circumstances when they’re together. it’s sort of timeless. 

i will say, i don’t think the romance was that "romantic”, if that makes sense? and i think it’s a good thing. their bond is very real, but it goes beyond “romantic drama” and your usual hero/villain trope. it has shades of that, ofc, and there is palpable sexual and romantic tension, imo. but i sensed something more mature and interesting between them. it could go either way. do i want reylo to have a future in ep 9 and after? yep. is it possible they won’t? also yep. mainly because kylo let rey down. and here’s the kicker: it’s not rey that really rejects him. it’s him that rejects rey. because she tries quite a few times to bring him over to her side, and i think her anger and sadness stem from the fact that, ultimately, kylo didn’t choose her, and ergo the light. he’s still v much conflicted and i think she can sense that. but rey is hungry. she wants all or nothing. she can’t have half of him. so she doesn’t reject him as much as tell him straight up that she won’t stand for being second. for instance, she expects him to fold to her side immediately after taking down snoke. when he doesn’t, she’s quite literally in tears. this hurts her on a deeper level than “oh no, the dark side won and the resistance lost an important ally.” no, this feels like her parents all over. leaving her, deserting her. that’s how i read it, tbh. 

and kylo does some reprehensible shit in the latter quarter of the movie, lol, like i won’t woobify him, since i like my antiheroes to be antiheroes.  but he's not quite villain level?  if u look at snoke, if u take that cool, collected snarky asshole - that’s a villain. he knows who he is, and what he wants. kylo is hopelessly confused and always looking for validation. he tells rey that she’s the one always looking for father figures - but oh, benny ben. it’s actually you. he wants someone to really see him, and that’s why he’s drawn to rey. but just to clarify: he doesn’t have it in him to kill his mother. he has an open, unambiguous chance and he stops. he is willing to destroy her when she stands behind walls and is shielded by the resistance. yet when she’s in the open, no. that was my read on it. 

his fight with luke is...very much one-sided. luke appears as a force-hologram to fight him and kylo just wants to obliterate him for very, very personal reasons. kylo is not the cool, collected new emperor who is going to “kill the past”. he lives so much in the past that he doesn’t even realize luke isn’t even there. 

and btw, kylo doesn’t kill luke, though he wishes he had. early on we get this foreshadowing. when the first force-bond happens between him and rey, he goes “no, you’re not doing this. the effort would kill you.” meaning that, to transport yourself through space via force (without a bond) takes a looooot of energy. luke goes on a suicide mission, basically. he knows using the force like this will kill him. he’s almost having fun toying with kylo at the end. 

when kylo realizes he’s a force-hologram, luke smiles and says “see you around, kid.” not exactly anakin vs obi-wan, if u know what i mean.

and then back on the island, we see luke peacefully give himself over to the force and vanish. it’s v tranquil and quite satisfying and the original star wars theme is used so well, imo. do i think we could’ve had more of luke? sure. but he went out on his own terms. that’s the whole point - kylo didn’t kill him. he killed himself.

again, i want to emphasize that kylo is still very much an antihero, dipping his toe into villainy (and failing - which makes him more angry, which only makes it harder to be the villain he wants to be haha). he’s not a Good Guy. many posts will crop up in the tag about what a poor, lost soul he is. yes and no. rey actually understands him when she closes the falcon door on him. she knows him and appreciates him. he will never really be ben solo and that’s a good thing. trying to be ben solo so hard is what got him in this mess. he isn’t supposed to be a Good Guy. so no, i don’t want him to “turn” (see my thoughts on “turning” below). i want him to truly move beyond the past and reform himself on his own terms, just like luke. because hey fam, luke isn’t a Good Guy in this movie either AND THAT’S GREAT. anyway, i certainly won’t be romanticizing him (kylo). he’s a compelling antihero who definitely has baggage and trauma (luke did try to kill him as a boy, though he has a wildly dramatized version of the event lol) but he is also someone who has to help himself. ultimately, rey’s goal isn’t to “save” him but to push him to save himself. honestly, if kylo had followed her and “turned” and reluctantly joined the resistance, it would’ve been a total let down and a betrayal of his character. him “turning” wouldn’t help him. he’d still have that darkness and that anger inside of him, multiplied. boy needs therapy - aka working through his issues, not ignoring them and joining the Good Side. 

Other things I liked: 

- admiral holdo’s arc - beautiful, well-done and surprising. laura dern kills it. 

- benicio del toro!!!!! no small parts with this man. he is delightful. imagine rick from “rick and morty” but way hotter lol. he was probably my favorite addition, after rose. he’s the middle-ground guy, he’s more han solo than fucking han solo. he doesn’t believe in good guys vs bad guys and he shows both finn and the audience that the two sides err because they believe their path is the only path. he perfectly encapsulates the very real contradictions in modern-day ethics and how our “pure and wholesome” activism often shields us from some terrible truths. he does have a semblance of a heart underneath his cynicism but i love that in the end he doesn’t suddenly discover the power of friendship with finn and rose. he’s a jaded asshole with shades of good, who’s probably seen some rough shit. BUT, he has this super cute moment with rose before things go to shit regarding her necklace and it’s !!!!!! it shows how much he understands human nature. i kinda ship them. aaaanyway. i definitely think he will return, his arc is not done. 

- ROSE TICO SMILING AND BEING HAPPY. ROSE TICO RIDING THAT KANGAROO CREATURE AND ENJOYING LIFE. i treasured those scenes a lot. she’s a great combo of feisty and childlike, tough and innocent. gosh, she reminds me of bonnie bennett so much ;___;

- general hux. yall, it’s true. it’s all true. hux may have won me over. hux in TFA was just a lite over-the-top villain imo. but here??? he’s such a fun, dynamic character, rian gave him a lot of fun, humorous moments. and honest to god, he’s also given some humanity. when kylo takes over, he is genuinely affected and disturbed by his level of aggression. and he’s....idk, much less evil in this one. probably because of the humor. he just seems like a man dead-set on fulfilling his mission, brainwashed to the core. and underneath the brainwashing, he seems to be your average overwhelmed white dude. i don’t think he’ll be redeemed or anything but...it’s weird how at the end of TLJ he is probably the MOST reasonable dude from the first order???

- there’s this great little message about failure. i think here TLJ was inspired by Rogue One. because a lot of the characters in this movie learn to let go and accept defeat. you can’t always save everyone, you can’t always fight back. sometimes, the brave thing is to retreat and treasure the ppl you love. so i def liked that.

- GODDAMN GHOST YODA. i honestly thought i’d hate it because...gimmick, amirite? but that scene with luke was SO emotional and also funny and visceral and just - i was a bit teary-eyed, ME, THE GRINCH. i was suddenly nine again, watching star wars for the first time. ANYWAY. 

- luke skywalker deserves a separate entry. mark hamill did so much with this character in the last few scenes. also some of the stuff he says about the force in this movie is legit beautiful and i love how he criticizes the vanity of the jedi - because this was what was missing from the prequels. anakin fell because the council was tone-deaf. the jedi are often responsible for their own doom and so they must always be vigilant - which is a goddamn thankless job. i love that luke acknowledges this. 

-luke/leia moment. GAAAAH. HE KISSES HER FOREHEAD GOODBYE AND SHE KNOWS HE’S NOT COMING BACK FROM THIS. I DIED.

- in that order of business, leia finally FIIIINALLY gets to show off a bit and use the force in a pro-active manner. it’s also clear to me that episode 9 would’ve been the story of her and “ben” and i think she would have been the catalyst for his eventual development. but sadly, we’ll never see that ;____; 

-there is some gorgeous cinematography and visual direction in this movie. particularly in the third act, on that salt planet? the red trails? shivers. 

-i didn’t hate any of the new creatures like i thought i would??? probably because they were used sparingly and with a sense of humor.

Stuff i kind of didn’t like:

- phasma. phasma, phasma, phasma. WHAT was that??? like tell me that wasn’t anticlimactic as hell. she was, sadly, a pointless character. unless she somehow survived the fire and destruction, which i doubt, i really don’t see the point of casting wonderful gwendolyn christie just to stand there in armor. 

- MAZ KANATA. is barely in this. i call bullshit. 

-sigh, okay so i loved rose to death, but her arc revolved way too much around finn. on the one hand i get it, on the other hand.... i was hyped because ppl were saying she gets this big moment to shine. and granted, imo, she shines every moment she’s on screen. but i think her climactic scene was... *fart noises*. it’s completely centered around finn. she saves him basically, and it’s definitely heartfelt and lovely but also...it’s finn’s moment 100%. because it’s him who has to learn about his own worth. i do think they make a good team and i ship them a little bit, but the one-sided kiss was not satisfying and i’m tired of having to watch my darling woc give their love and devotion freely, only to be  tertiary characters in their own story. like, imo, it should’ve been rose who flew straight into that cannon and tried to take it down for her sister. she should’ve been the one determined to take it down. and it should’ve been finn to save her and tell her they must find meaning in other things. finn definitely cares for her and in the last scene we have of him, he’s tending over rose and waiting for her to wake up BUT. will rose ever be number one for anyone, like the white girls, i wonder? eh, i’m probably just grumpy old aunt. she does get to have an internal world, she’s a believable human being, she matters. the thing is, white girls in these movies can bend their little finger and they’re considered worthy and complex. rose has to jump through hoops to be seen the same way. anyway.

- i liked poe dameron’s arc, which is “hey, maybe i should stop posturing and listen to women more lol” which is “learn when to retreat and stand down” but...honestly, you hire gorgeous oscar isaac who can give you real emotional weight and you just...kinda under-utilize him. yes, he did a lot of stuff, but he...didn’t take time to internalize it. this dude feels like he’s got a lot of demons and conflicting desires and a rich inner life, yet we only skim the surface of that. like, he’s aways in go-mode, we rarely get a quiet moment with him. like pls fix this, episode 9. 

-luke’s reaction to han’s death is pfffffffffffff. maybe we’ll get more in a deleted scene? 

- also....can we stop pussyfooting and legit talk about han as a dad? because they keep hinting he wasn’t a good one, nor a very good husband to leia. but...it’s very unsatisfying to keep hearing about it without good storytelling to back it up. 

- the world-building & the origins of the first order. i had problems with this in TFA and, big surprise, i still have problems with it here. basically, why has the first order taken over the new republic? how did they gain support? were there remnants of the old empire that survived and thrived as the first order? what about the knights of ren? luke mentions kylo took some students with him when he destroyed the jedi temple, so....what about those guys? like, this very fraught and war-torn landscape doesn’t have a solid history. how did A become B? why is every corner of the galaxy oppressed? why are some planets thriving more? are they all arm-dealers??? i find that hard to believe. yeah, we have the expanded universe for that, we have books and comics etc. but i need these movies to give us a sense of their own universe. i’m...still not convinced. 

-lolol, snoke dies like a bitch. and it’s so anticlimactic and duuuumb. dude, a five-year old coulda seen that coming but your ancient super powerful ass couldn’t? laaaame. he’s like “oh, yes, i sense no more conflict in you, kylo ren. just a deep certainty”. YES FOOL, because he’s decided to remove u, because he’s confident he wants rey, and not you, by his side. it was soooo lame. but i guess we had to remove him to make the audience think kylo was turning good for a second there.

-which reminds me... and you probably saw this coming, i hate the idea of “turning”. rey keeps talking about ben turning to the light. and this verb annoys me to no end. it’s made clear that they both already have a lot of light and darkness in each other. it’s about finding balance. where’s my grey jedi??? episode 9 pls????

Extra Reylo stuff i didn’t see mentioned which i adored: 

- during their first force-bond moment when they sense each other, kylo ren runs out of the medical unit and into the corridor like a goddamn luckless teenager, expecting to see rey pop up in a prom dress.  it’s precious. i love awkward!kylo. also rey tries to shoot him bc she thinks he’s actually there and kylo bends down, thinking he was shot. it’s a rly cool moment. and it doesn’t feel malicious like, he doesn’t expect anything less from her. 

- there’s so much charged electricity between them and it’s not all sexual. it’s kinda mystical and i dig it. i’m weirdly reminded of xavier and magneto??? as in two enemies who have such a rich history and whose bond transcends human morality. 

-OKAY. i saw no one talking about this but THAT GODDAMN SNOW WHITE SCENE. so rey decides she’s going to turn kylo to the light because that’s their one hope of defeating the first order etc. luke tries to stop her, but she’s like i’m going after my man. okay. she gets on the falcon, then she puts herself in this casket-like pod and AND. we get this lovely, breath-taking sequence of her arriving at the first order base, slipping gently into the hangar in her casket. and she’s def nervous. AND THEN. she looks up through the glass and there’s steam at first and through the steam we see kylo’s face, looking down at her wistfully. IT’S SO WEIRDLY FAIRY-TALE WTF. and then ofc the guards come in to shackle her. BUT JESUS. the prince looking into the casket to find snow-white WHAT ARE THESE AESTHETICS. it felt like a nod to the infamous scene in TFA where he carries her bridal style. it’s very fairy-tale-esque. 

- i love that in the scene with the multiple reys, when she reaches through the mirror to see her parents, the shadowy figure who appears and touches her hand seems at first to be kylo and then she realizes it’s herself. i also love that she talks to kylo about that experience. GAH. 

- i just rly loved that there was so much humanity in their interactions.

Reylo stuff which sort of bothered me/left me wanting more: 

- like excuse u rian,  during the praetorian guards fight, i needed more moments where kylo looks at rey and is worried for her sake. i needed that fight to be a bit more visceral and about the two of them and their survival. they do fight together and it’s great but then...they’re sort of separated and carry their own small battles (i did love how rey saved him with that lightsaber throw)

- the whole “you come from nothing, you are nothing.” yea yeah, he’s a dummy who doesnt know how to express his feelings, he’s mr. darcy x 1000 of faux pas. but i still think adam driver’s acting went a little much there. the way he delivered that line was a bit off for me. ofc, he follows it with “but not to me”, because he’s basically proposing to her, but i needed a bit more, an extra line from him confirming her importance. or maybe no extra line, but a bit more feeling. did i mention i love wrecked!kylo? the “please” killed me haha. 

Final thoughts:

- enjoyed it more than i expected to, and it does operate with way more nuance than TFA but it stiiiill fell short with some characters. it didn’t have the weight of rogue one for me, but it’s more lighthearted and entertaining, which i appreciate, cuz it reminded me of my childhood. and ultimately, whether we like it or not, disney does operate on nostalgia. all in all, it’s a worthy star wars movie, 8/10. rian deserves an A-. (he also wrote this thing and whoaaa...i wonder how much more ambiguous and dark this movie woulda been if he’d been given full non-disney freedom)

[star-trekkin-across-theuniverse]

Escape, pt4

Word Count: 2133 Tags: @shewhorunswithfandoms @distinguishedqueenofbooks @anyakinamidala @anotherotter @little-study-bug  @rampant-salamander @goodnightwife @wanderingkat77 @bluebird214 @superwholockedbeauty @eyeofdionysus @all-time-foes @girl-next-door-writes @feelmyroarrrr @castiels-ass-butt-1967 @haven-in-writing @sistasarah-sallysaidso @dolamrothianlady @from-kitten-to-kitsune @geeksareunique

Author’s Note: I promise I’ll have a masterlist made for this tonight after work. Betcha can’t figure out who Jinx is face-cast as ;)

The remains of the city were in exactly the condition Peter would have expected based on Yondu’s tale. Walls were crumbling; the remains of corpses lay haphazardly where they’d fallen. Rocket touched one and it turned to dust before them. A shiver ran down Peter’s spine. He’d left the iPod on the ship with Gamora. She’d offered to stay behind to keep an eye out for other scavengers and unsavoury types that might come along. Peter wouldn’t say it, but he appreciated the gesture. At the same time, he missed having music while he worked. It was impossible to listen to music, scavenge and listen to Rocket though, so he’d opted to just leave the iPod behind.

“My tail is twitching. There’s no atmosphere here. Why would my tail twitch?” He rambled. “You know why, Star-Lord? Because that’s a prime A loot detector, that’s why!”

“You are more advanced than I’d expected. Can your tail give us directions to the target?” Drax glared at Rocket. Rocket rolled his eyes and kept walking deeper into the city. Peter scanned the buildings around them, but none of them seemed opulent enough to house any kind of loot whatsoever. And the Kree had lived here millions of years ago; there was nothing to really suggest that there would be anything of value left. Rocket disappeared into one of the stone houses, while Drax and Peter continued moving through the city. Somewhere, Peter reasoned, there had to be a house where the leader of the Kree had lived. Rocket rejoined them silently, his paws empty.

Peter saw it, ahead of them. A large edifice, with two round towers at each side. It looked important. He quickened his pace and Drax and Rocket followed. They slipped in the entry in silence. There was an altar at the far side of a large open room and floating above it was an orb of some sort. It glowed with a soft yellow light, almost like it was nothing but light. Rocket scoffed.

“It’s always got to be some goddamn ball. I wonder what painful torture is inside that one?” His fur still had out of control static electricity from helping Peter harness the energy of the Power Stone.

“Maybe it will cut out your tongue,” Drax suggested. Rocket shot him a dirty look. He glanced back at Peter. His eyes were narrowed, staring at the orb.

“It’s just pure energy. There’s nothing to that thing. How can we take it if we can’t grab it?” Peter wondered aloud.

“You feel like absorbing some more mystical magical crap, Star-Lord?” Rocket taunted. Peter stepped closer to the ball of energy, tilting his head to one side. He narrowed his eyes, and glared at it. Nothing. Just a ball of energy.

“As a matter of fact, I don’t think it’s in the interest of my health to grab it. But there must be some way of harnessing whatever it is.” Peter placed a hand on either side of the altar. A cloud of dust rose up, some of it becoming suspended in the pale glow of the sphere. He looked down to the altar and swept his hand across the angled edge and revealed some sort of runes. “Is this Kree?”

Drax leaned over as far as he could without actually getting any nearer to the altar. He sighed and took a step closer. “Clear it more.”

Peter leaned down and blew across the inscription, sending up another cloud of dust. The light of the glowing orb grew dimmer with the particulate suspended in it. Drax ran his hand across it lightly.

“Kree is all lines and circles. This is not Kree.”

“Do you recognize it, Drax?” Peter pressed. Drax’s fingers traced the symbols. He sighed and rocked back on his heels.

“I should. But I cannot fathom why,” he admitted. Peter gawked at him. It was the most normal thing he’d ever said. Rocket stepped up to the table, his eyes narrowed.

“It ain’t Skrull. Could it be Cotati?” Rocket’s ears twitched and his gaze snapped up to the energy ball. The particulate from the dust was not dropping out of it, but coalescing into some sort of solid. As it did, the light from the energy became dimmer. He picked up a handful of dust and blew it toward the orb. As the dust got closer, it almost appeared to suck into the light, converging with the other dust to form a solid. He picked up another handful, and another, until the light was all gone, and a large lump of light dust-formed rock floated above the altar. The rock began to vibrate, and Peter pulled Drax and Rocket down just in time. A sudden bright flash of light shot across the room, and the rock fell to the altar with a thud. Peter peered over the edge of the rock surface, but the pale rock was gone, replaced by the biggest gemstone he’d ever seen.

“Is that a diamond?” Rocket reached for it. Drax smacked his hand away.

“Don’t touch it. You have no idea what it could do.”

“I think it’s finished whatever metamorphosis it was going through, Drax.” Rocket reached for the clear stone. It looked like a diamond. There was a heat coming off it that made Rocket suspicious. He reached into Peter’s pocket and pulled out a metal cylinder. After pulling the top off, he slid it along the table until the stone was at the lip of it, then he flipped it inside with the lid and handed it back to Peter. “You’re bigger. If it explodes.”

Peter rolled his eyes. “Should we see if there’s anything else here we can sell?”

Drax nodded and moved out of the altar room, Rocket and Peter trailing him.

“Hey Star-Lady. Rumour has it that you’re leaving us for the Astronauts.” The tall redheaded man plunked a coffee in front of Roxanne as he slipped into the backroom. She met his eye and shook her head. He was wearing his sunglasses. It was overcast out. She knew he’d been partying in a glance. His tatty union jack t-shirt suggested he had been using his accent to pick up girls again. She could almost hear him correcting her in her head - ‘Union flag, Roxy. It’s only a Union Jack at sea.’

“What? Leave this life of glamour? Jinx, seriously?” Roxanne laughed. “I love that some tabloid idiot who wasn’t even at the concert has decided this is the next big news item. Hasn’t Miley done anything outrageous lately?”

Jinx flopped into a bentwood chair across the desk from Roxanne. He stretched his long legs out in front of him, his butt barely balanced on the edge of the chair. The chair was horribly uncomfortable, but she had to hand it to him for at least trying to get comfortable. He slid his sunglasses up his forehead to see better in the dim light.

“What are you doing?” He nodded toward the turntable and laptop on the desk.

“I’ve been inspired by a recent customer,” she shrugged.

“Was he hot?” Jinx raised an eyebrow. “The muses usually are. Look at the Mona Lisa. Stone cold fox, that one.” Roxanne laughed despite herself.

“He was not unattractive,” she admitted. “But that wasn’t what inspired me. He brought in this mix tape, straight outta the eighties. Weirdly, it was all seventies music. But it made me think about all the great music that is just being converted to mp3 and thrown into an online music store. What is it that we are always complaining about?”

“Groupies aren’t as hot or young as they used to be?” Jinx winked.

“You’re such a dick. That music has lost some of the depth since we pitched vinyl.” She threw the spill-stopping stick from her coffee at him. “Anyhow, Pete wanted to repair this mix tape, and obviously you can’t once the tape is all stretched to hell. So I ripped the songs off their vinyl albums, and put it on an iPod for him. But now I want to rescue some other awesome music and put the dirt and crud back into the tracks. So I’ve been going through my favourite albums and ripping them to mp3. Not cleaning them up, not making them pretty.”

“To what end?”

“Not sure yet. I’ve sent out some feelers to some of the groups. See if their interested in a compilation. I’ve been asked to do that podcast with that dude. Maybe I could bring in a playlist. Talk about how remastering is ruining music,” Roxanne shrugged. She wasn’t sure why she was so compelled to continue, but it had started with the bonus tracks she’d thrown on Peter’s iPod.

“Wait, did you just say dude wanted to repair a mix tape? What fucking rock has he been living under?” Jinx sat up and blinked, like the thought had been painful.

“He says he travels a lot. I guess maybe he hasn’t kept up,” Roxanne shrugged.

“Easy for you to say. You don’t even have facebook,” Jinx snorted. “Your disturbing aversion to technology is not actually that common, Rox.”

“I’m not having this argument again, Jamie. You know my reasons,” Roxanne warned. She humoured his desire to be called by his stage name most of the time. It made using his real name that much more powerful.

“If your father wanted to find you, he could have. Like, a million times in the last ten years. Irregardless of facebook, twitter, or anything else.” Jinx rolled his eyes.

“Regardless.”

“Regardless what?” His English accent got unusually pronounced when he was confused.

“The word is regardless. Irregardless is not a word,” Roxanne corrected. Jinx rolled his eyes again.

“Sure thing, Shakespeare.” He pulled his sunglasses down and took a deep breath. “So, Star-Lady and the Astronauts. You gonna really release that?”

“No way. It’s for shits and giggles. There’s not a real big market for space music that includes songs with physics equations in it,” Roxanne laughed.

“You could play convocation at MIT.” Jinx was teasing her again. Roxanne shook her head and restrained herself from throwing a cassette tape at him.

“Don’t you have to be somewhere? I’m sure there’s a groupie just waiting for you to be a disgusting pig about her bra size. Somewhere,” Roxanne dismissed him. Jinx stood up and took his sunglasses back off.

“Roxy, why you gotta be that way?” He asked. “Honestly, it was once!”

“It was while we were married!” Roxanne laughed. “A girl doesn’t forget that kind of thing.”

“And here I thought we were past all that.”

Roxanne stood up and pressed a kiss to his cheek. “You wouldn’t still be in the band if I wasn’t over it, Jamie. There’s a lot of other mediocre drummers out there looking for a gig. Now hustle your ass out of here before your groupies find out you’re here. Unless you’re planning on sticking around and signing autographs.” She shooed him toward the exit to the floor of the store. He playfully swatted her ass.

“Alright, lovey. I’ll see you later.” He bent down and kissed her forehead. As he turned to leave, he bumped into an equally tall guy who was just standing there. Gawking. “What’s wrong, mate? Never seen a rock star before?”

“Hey! Pete! I wasn’t expecting you back so soon!” Roxanne smiled brightly as Jinx sidestepped Peter. Peter shook his head a little and focused on Roxanne instead of Jinx.

“I was hoping to thank you again for the tape,” he started, and glanced back at Jinx. “I didn’t realize that you –“

“Oh god, no mate! That ship has sailed, she’s all yours.” Jinx interrupted and clapped Peter on the shoulder. He turned and winked at Roxanne. “And that is my cue to leave.”

Roxanne let out the breath she didn’t realize she was holding. And then chastised herself in her head. Despite scoffing at Jinx, she was curious about Peter. She felt a flush creep up her cheeks and forced herself to meet his eyes. “Your trip must have gone well.” It was awkward. She felt awkward, and her words were awkward.

“Uh yeah. Well, no. I don’t know. I wanted to let you know I really enjoyed the other mix you threw on the iPod for me,” he started. Roxanne grinned.

“I have another one started if you feel your musical education is ready to progress?” She winked. Peter smiled.

“I was thinking maybe I could take you out. To a movie? I found a theatre showing Goonies. Do you remember that movie?” He asked.

“Pete, we’re in Oregon. Everyone here remembers that movie,” she laughed and immediately felt bad as his smile fell. “I haven’t seen it in years. I’d love to go.”

[lesbian-ed]

🌸Hi, a few years ago when I was 16 (19 now)I was forced out to my friends by this homophobic girl, and I came out as bi (still in the closet to my family), I'm no longer friends with any of them, but I can't figure out what label I should have, I really want to just know who I am. I said to them I was bi, but I've never felt right with that label. I read about comp het and it makes so much sense to me, but I still don't know. 1/5

🌸I feel, like, attracted to male celebs, but only when they’re in films or tv, and watching interviews of them ruins it?, and whenever I’m around guys I get these thoughts I can’t control about kissing them and sleeping with them and I feel rlly self conscious, I said this to a friend who said it’s a crush, but I get it with people I don’t like at all 2/?

🌸 And sometimes I have a phase where I feel like I could date a guy and marry him and have kids and be happy but it feels like I’m imagining a perfect version of me that actually im not like at all? And as well I can only imagine myself with a young guy, once I think about a 30 yr old or older I don’t want it anymore, but the perfect fantasy seems so appealing idk 3/?

🌸I feel different about girls but I don’t know I’m catholic and I feel like it’s always been other people are gay and that’s ok but not me? And I don’t know whether I feel no attraction to girls or I’m pushing it down bc when I see girls kiss on tv I literally have started crying and I saw a lesbian couple in public once and I got butterflies and also Ive found myself changing pronouns in songs in my head without realising but I’ve never had close to a crush on anyone especially not a girl 4/5

🌸Ive never even met a gay girl except for one pan girl at school but she was really weird and rude so I don’t know what it’s supposed to be like to like someone? writing this all down it makes it sound like I’m definitely a lesbian but that scares me so much bc ill never have a normal life and I can’t shake this feeling that actually I do want to be with a guy but I’m trying to be interesting or I’m faking this or something. Pls tell me your thoughts on this 5/5

Oh, anon. This literally all feels as if my younger self came into my ask box just now to ask for advice. 

I understand your pain, I really do, I went through so many of the same thought processes you’re describing now. It’s good that you’re aware of compulsory heterosexuality, since I believe that will make sorting your feelings easier. Still, I recommend you look through our tag (if you haven’t already) to read more thoughts on this. It’ll help. 

I obviously can’t tell you what your sexuality is for you, that’s your own journey to make, but this sounds so much like my own experience that I’m pretty sure what the answer is already.

Anon, let me tell you a story, I went to a catholic school and while my parents are pretty liberal and not that religious (in fact, my dad’s an atheist) I was also raised with the idea that ok, there were gay people out there, and I didn’t care what other people did with their lives! But honestly that was kind of weird and I couldn’t be like them, because they weren’t normal, like I should be. I was bullied a lot as a kid, because I was weird and ugly and way too shy and easy to pick on, so I grew up with this idea that whatever else happened, I had to stop being like that, I had to be beautiful and normal and acceptable. And that of course included a perfect fantasy of marrying the man of my dreams after he fell in love with men when I suddenly grew up to be the most beautiful woman there was, and having kids, and holding down a successful job that I was happy doing and having lots of money and well, just having the most perfect life. How could I not want that? Ever since I was old enough to walk, society fed me the idea that this was my ideal endgame, how could we ALL not dream about that at some point? 

I used to be obsessed with those stories where the “ugly” girl suddenly turns beautiful and the Nice Perfect Popular Boy finally notices her and they get together, those stories were my dream life. As a kid and young teen I’d fantasize about them constantly, I’d make up characters that would always end up fulfilling those same tropes. It was the way to prove to all those who ever called me ugly or belittled me because I was nerdy that “see? I got the happy ending” so when I was twelve, and suddenly all the girls were having crushes on boys I felt nothing for, while I started noticing seemingly out of the blue just how incredibly beautiful so many girls my age and older were, I got veeery scared. I couldn’t like girls like that, I wasn’t like that, I was already weird and had no friends, so how could I ever hope to find a girl who liked girls who’d like me? And if I did, everyone already hated me, so how would I bear it? The stares and the insults and the danger we’d face if people saw us together on the street? So I pushed that attraction down as far as I could, I convinced myself I was actually just too inmature to start thinking about crushes and all that stuff, and obviously when I was mature enough and the time came, I’d like boys, because that’s what Normal Girls did right? And I had to be normal.

In my school’s equivalent of US’ eighth grade, a new boy came to our class, he was pretty, and friendly, and most importantly, blonde! and he was the school sports star! It felt like every movie-like fantasy I ever had come to life. Every girl was in love with him, so one time I had a dream where we were dating. I woke up being absolutely ecstatic, that must have meant I had a crush right? I liked a boy? I was definitely straight?

I never actually began feeling nervous around this boy, or looking at him any more than usual until I had this dream and decided that meant I was in love. I told a friend eventually because I was excited about being in love and the fantasy I had created for myself about our perfect relationship (which did involve us kissing and having sex, and I never actually felt turned on about it but I did imagine it a lot because it meant we were In Love, so those fantasies happen even if you don’t actually like like the person in question, dw!), and isn’t that what you do when you like someone? Gossip about it with your friends? She told some of my bullies and the dude found out, so he started laughing at me in the middle of the class and calling me ugly and saying he was traumatized at the mere idea of me liking him. 

And I… felt nothing. I was angry of course, and sad, but it was just the same anger and sadness I felt when some random I didn’t like made fun of me, it wasn’t even like what I felt when former friends said nasty stuff about me. And I wanted to be heartbroken I wanted to wallow in the misery and the drama of it, but I just wasn’t, it was the same “well this shit sucks and I’m angry about it but it happens everyday so wyd?” There was no deeper feeling there, not even any special resentment, there was nothing. I never felt anything ever again when I looked at this boy.

Now, sometime later, the same boy starts dating a girl from our class, and it was around the same time that I was coming to terms with the fact that the latent attraction I had started to feel for women when I was younger had never actually gone away but rather had grown. Things were purely about sexual attraction for me at that point, not romantic feelings. I hadn’t actually been in love with a girl either by that point. Because even tho I was accepting my sexual attraction to women, I still had the idea in my mind that ideally I would end up with a boy, because when so much of my hopes for the future relied of me being beautiful and a man falling in love with me forever and ever so that I could have a normal future, letting go of that dream took a while. I called myself bisexual for a while, only to realize very little later that it didn’t actually fit me. When I did, it was hard, because I had to re-come out again to my mom and the two friends I had told, and that really scared me, because I felt like some fake, like what I felt was not actually real. I put it off, and my friends & mom were accepting but they also were like “you’re just confused about your sexuality!!/this is just a phase!!” so that fed into my insecurities. Even when I realized I was sexually into women only, I still hadn’t fallen in love with one, so that made things more confusing for me (I hadn’t fallen for any boy other than the one I mentioned earlier and one I met on a vacation that thought I liked for like a week because he had a pretty voice and was pretty androgynous lmao, but again, no heartbreak when he went away)

Eventually, (funnily enough through fandoms and f/f ships and fics that depicted them in loving relationships, And I cried when I read about girls kissing too, at first I thought it was because I was a Good Straight Ally, but I was just a lesbian lmao) I realized that I could also be happy in a relationship with a woman, that it was not only a possible future for me, but one that I wanted, one that felt right, one in which I wouldn’t be the beautiful, perfect, feminine, smart, succesful career woman I had dreamed of as a kid, but in which I’d be me, with all my quirks and faults, with another woman with her own quirks and faults who’d love me for who I am, because that was possible! It was possible to be happy like that!. When I realized this, that me liking girls romantically and sexually, and exclusively girls was okay, it felt like a veil was lifted from my eyes. Suddenly, all the feelings and attraction I had thought I had felt for boys paled in comparison to the intensity of what I felt for women, I learned what actual sexual desire was like, I yearned for a future with a real me in it with a real woman by my side, instead of the fake ideal I’d wanted to be when I was younger. It was around that time I fell in love for the first time.

Remember how I mentioned the boy I used to “like” got a girlfriend? Well, guess who I fell for? Me and her were assigned seats together one year in high school, and I got to know her through the first term, every time liking her more and more, until one day, she just walks into class, and I think she did something different with her hair? Whatever it was, seeing her felt like someone punching the breath out of me, it felt like watching literal perfection embodied. And I was gone, I was just so so sooo gone. I felt sparks when we sat next to each other, I couldn’t stop smiling like a fool whenever I looked at her, she’d say something nice to me and it felt like my soul was flying out of my body. And of course it was idealized, it was a crush on a girl I didn’t know that well, but the feelings I had, I had for her, for her actual personality, her actual sweetness, her actual kindness, even her actual rashness sometimes, not the fantasy I had made up of her that I projected onto her like I did when I “liked” her boyfriend. I liked her as a person. Plus the intensity of both crushes was just so fucking different. When I liked her, I cried when we were apart and at the thought of her with her dumbass idiot boyfriend, I listened to a love song and could relate to it for the first time. I understood finally why people would write poetry and songs and do all sorts of crazy things for this feeling. 

Tldr: I also fantasized about the ideal boy and I was never able to allow myself to feel anything for a girl because of how much I had repressed my sexuality due to fear of backlash until I was able to recognize that yes, liking women was OK and then all my repressed feelings came pouring out like a tsunami. 

If that sounds like something you can kind of relate to, then that’s your answer anon. However, it might not be, or maybe you don’t know if it is yet. That’s alright! Sexuality can be complicated and it can take a long time to figure it out. You’re not on a deadline here, you don’t have to stress about it.

As for the normal part, yeah being a lesbian in this society sucks a lot. And I still get terrified of the idea that I will not be “normal” and that I can never be happy. Even if I know deep in my heart that I can never be happy with a man, sometimes I wonder if it’d be worth it to spare me the pain. The answer? Hell no, I’ve got one life, one, what’s the point of wasting it on loveless unfulfilled relationships when I could try to go for someone I’ll actually be happy with? There’ll be pain, of course there will be, I live in a small town and I’ve only just started meeting other lesbians & bi girls offline this year because I’ve gone to university, and I’ve only ever actually started talking to and becoming actual friends with the ones I knew online this year too because I was so terrified before! All of them tell me about their hurt, and how lesbophobia affects them a lot, and yet I see them talking about how much they love their girlfriends/wives (I don’t have that because I’m an awkward potato but I’m trying) and also other lesbians, and it gives me hope, because I can be just like them, finding genuine happiness amidst the pain.

I hope this answer helps you. 

Mod M :D