#i never watched but i just pieced the show together from watching a few episodes and reading about and also the best moments

[youn8ss-2]

the l word is such a weird show to me cus you make a show about lesbians but then make the main character a bi woman. Thats why it was so fierce to have her die on the last season’s premiere. mind you jenny is hated throughout her whole run and is painted as nothing but a selfish psycho which is so accurate to bi people irl

[guardianspirits13]

Ok. I’m still trying to gather my thoughts and settle my hyperfixation after episode 3 of the Percy Jackson show, but one of my conclusions is that this is one of very few adaptations that actually understands the term ‘adaptation’ and furthermore what makes one successful.

On a fundamental level, understanding and respecting the source material is a must. You need to not just know the bullet points of the story, but you need to know the ‘why’s’- why does this story need to be heard, why do people like it, why does it stand out from the others in it’s genre, etc.

Second, you need to deconstruct the source material and piece it back together in a way that makes sense for the new format. Copy-pasting almost never works, since there will inevitably be discrepancies between the readers’ imagination and the adaptation that can distract from immersion.

Third, you need to provide something new. Why does this story deserve to be told in a different format? What can this add to the original themes of a story? What can we change to make the message come across more on screen? Will this dialogue really be as funny when it’s said out loud?

We’ve seen a lot of terrible “adaptations” of animation and books and musicals into movies/tv shows, and I think even among the better ones there is a dissonance between the desire to stay faithful to the source and the desire to make a good adaptation, with whatever changes that may necessitate.

I think while we’ve watched the casting of this series, the hints here and there, and final the premiere with bated breath, they’ve been playing the long game. They cast Walker as Percy before he was in the Adam Project. Many people expressed…unsavory…feelings when Leah was cast as Annabeth, but those of us that trusted the team behind this project- including the author himself- did our best to welcome her and were repaid tenfold with her performance in this episode particularly.

Most of the scenes in this episode were not at all how I imagined them in the book, but I adored it. They took what they were given and expanded on it. They created a mini-arc for the trio learning to trust each other. They gave Medusa a labyrinthine lair. Annabeth is a 12 year old walking into a convenience store for the first time in 6+ years with $200 in her pocket, of course she’s gonna buy as much as she can carry.

The love and care and artistry that went into this single episode brings me so much joy and gives me so much hope. Like I was already excited for a faithful adaptation, but seeing these characters come to life on screen, once you see their chemistry with each other and how they speak and push and pull at each other’s emotions, it has never been more clear to me the amount of care and foresight that went into this show.

Rick said that these kids are the characters he created and for like 2 years I’ve trusted that that was true, but today it was proven beyond the shadow of a doubt.

I am just…in awe.

[luguangssandwich]

I'm rlly tired rn so idk if any of this will make sense but I've done some sleuthing and rewatched the episode, now with the highly likely chance that Cheng Xiaoshi has dived back too. Hear me out:

Xiaoshi definitely did dive, and I think it started from the moment we saw his face in black and white at 4:59 PM:

And I think he stays until the Vivian arc fades out after they ran away (that was at 3:45 AM according to the clock in the room) I think he left as soon as they were safe and before the 12 hour limit passed. After that, he is back to the same, more naive and youthful person (who doesn't know about Lu Guang's powers) we have seen before the above. Everything he does in between those 12 hours is completely in line with his late S1 and S2 behaviour, I found it extremely uncanny and interesting to watch with this in mind!

Other bits that I found particularly interesting was the conversation after he pulled Lu Guang back to the studio. Qiao Ling asks what they should have for dinner and Cheng Xiaoshi suggests hot pot. We know this is his signature food, but I found Qiao Ling's response odd, because in the original Chinese subtitles she asks him if he's sick, because nobody eats hot pot during such a hot day. It felt odd because she made it seem out of character for him?

There's also CXS bossing Lu Guang around - at this point in time they know each other for a very brief amount of time, but the way he asks all these things of him feels like a future timeline in which they've already gotten extremely used and comfortable as partners and living together.

With this in mind, calling him "Guangguang" doesn't feel like it came out of nowhere anymore.

A few other pieces of dialogue I found extremely sus:

Even Lu Guang is surprised by his out of character behaviour at this point (but also vice versa!).

Now, the way he behaves during the date - I wouldn't say it's completely out of character for a future CXS to act out of his own wits. I don't think this guy's been on a single date in his life lol of course he would freak the hell out in such a situation, during previous dives he at least had the safety of possessing someone else. His empathy never fails so he tries to be kind and guide Vivian home, something a future Cheng Xiaoshi would do as well.

But what REALLY tipped me off is that there is no way a non-possessed CXS would've known that LG would know where he is at this moment in time, because he wasn't told until after this scene that he took a photo. I don't think the Vivian arc happened before (and it's possible it was triggered directly by the changed node when CXS dragged LG back to the studio). Cheng Xiaoshi had no idea Lu Guang would ACTUALLY SHOW UP IN PERSON tho (my guy at this point are u actually even surprised?) and probably just thought he'd call the cops, seeing how surprised he was at Lu Guang's appearance.

I'm gonna post the screenshot of Cheng Xiaoshi with golden eyes again because it really baffles my mind.

I don't know if any of this makes sense and I'd love to hear your thoughts!!

[underwhelmingalchemist]

The thing about Ice Adolescence being cancelled isn't that it was unexpected. It's the finality of it. There's no hope of a new season, no faint hope that maybe a movie will come out one day, maybe, just maybe. The cancellation of the movie means that this is the end of Yuri on Ice.

At least for me, YOI was one of those shows that you watched an episode or two of and it felt both comfortable and compelling, and then it grabs you by the chin and turns your head towards the screen and doesn't let you go away, and a little voice in your head just goes, "Oh." You hear the theme song and your heart swells. The sounds of skates on the ice ground you in the sport. You look at these two men falling in love and you feel it.

I had a background in figure skating. I was never particularly good, but I spent most of my childhood on the rink every Friday. Watching the series, seeing the movement of their routines and hearing the sounds of the skates and seeing the rinks that looked just like the one I grew up on felt like coming home.

I watched the show at age sixteen on my tiny smart phone in the back of the school library, on an anime pirating website that was somehow not blocked by their wifi. I'd refresh the website over and over, because the episodes were always uploaded during the lunch break, and then me and my little group of queer friends would all huddle together to watch the newest episode. We would cheer and cry and get excited over every development. They kissed and we lost our minds. A few times, the one friend who could drive would take us to the only skating rink half an hour away and I would teach them, helping them size rented skates and go from holding onto to wall to gliding across the rink. I met my current girlfriend for the first time during one of those skating sessions. Viktor and Yuri fell in love thanks to the sport, and I met the woman who's currently napping in the bed next to me thanks to them.

Yuri on Ice was such a formative piece of media for me. It felt like something specifically designed for me, the queer, anime-loving teenager with a background in figure skating, with representation that meant the world to me and such a meaningful depiction of the sport I loved. And with this cancellation, that piece of media comes to an end.

Thank you for everything, Yuri on Ice. Ice Adolescence or not, you'll live on through me, and I'll never forget the impact you had on my life. Goodbye, and know that you really did make history.

[leupagus]

Guys I Might Have Three Nickels

I've been watching "Agatha Christie's Marple" for the past few days and it's pretty good! Marple adaptations all tend to have a better caliber of actors than a lot of bog-standard mystery shows (looking at you, "Madame Blanc"), and while Joan Hickson's Marple is right up there with David Suchet's Poirot and Jeremy Brett's Holmes as "literally can never be beaten, these are the best anyone's done it," both Geraldine McEwan and Julia McKenzie do a fantastic job as Miss Marple.

Then I got to "The Secret of Chimneys," Season 5 episode 2

and guys

Guys

So there's a murder of a viscount, like there is, and this detective Finch rolls up and immediately spots Miss Marple (in her NIGHTIE! standing at the window like some kind of hussy, honestly Jane) and doffs his cap to her with that little smile that makes you go, "huh."

At this point I've watched a couple dozen Miss Marple episodes where she goes through detectives like wildfire and this guy's supposed to be a "*guru*" so I'm expecting some battle of the egos or something and like, Stephen Dillane is great! But bleh, I might have to skip this one.

Then my dude asks Miss Marple to SHOW HIM THE BODY, with a pleased little smile at her as she goes "uhhhhhhhh but my knitting?" (He even does that thing where you use someone's honorific and wait for them to give you their name, and that's when I was like "ohhh this bitch knows exactly who she is.") What follows is what I can only describe as a meet-cute in the secret passageway where the viscount was shot (and in fact the body is STILL THERE) and where Miss Marple literally asks the police equivalent of "is there a Mrs Finch" and he looks at her like this:

At which point I'm like "ohhh my dude not only knows who she is, he deliberately came here without a sergeant so he could draft her," and sure enough he just starts...handing her pieces of evidence like "hey babe can you decipher this note for me thanks love you" while Miss Marple is like, "this approval and camaraderie coming from a cop... not sure if want."

Next is a series of romantic strolls through the gardens while they discuss murder, during which Finch reveals his undying love I mean his research into Miss Marple and the "dozen case files" of her previous exploits that he's collected like some deranged fanboy. Miss Marple responds to this by BLUSHING LIKE A SCHOOLGIRL and stammering about how pish tosh it's nothing really, and I couldn't find a gif of it but he's staring at her like this:

Yeah I bet u r tempted

He also makes a half-hearted attempt at negging her "amateur sleuth" status, only to then immediately assure her that he makes like, so much money being a big fancy detective and can keep her in all the yarn and garden seed she could ever desire.

There's also a late-night tryst at the compost pile right after Finch has been (mildly) poisoned and Miss Marple is like "men are so weak" as she roots through the garbage for clues.

Not how he wanted their first date to go D:

The next morning there's another murder which: bummer, but also allows the two of them to read love letters together and for Finch to give Miss Marple the following look as she explains how secret assignations among lovers can "quicken the ardor":

Miss Marple then goes onto solve the murders and btw hands over the priceless diamond that's been literally missing for two literal decades that she found in her spare time. The entire scene features Finch looking at her like this:

After the dust settles, Finch and Miss Marple have a lovely moment where he calls himself "another one of your casualties," then super casually mentions that he's probably going to have to go on assignment to use the diamond in a daring international espionage case and I can't decide if he's asking Miss Marple to go with him or simply trying to show her that he is cool and smart and would make an excellent wife, but either way the episode ends with her turning him down and Jane, we need to talk about your priorities.

Anyway I've already written 2K about the subsequent 10-year epistolary romance these two have following this episode because I make poor choices.

[thoughtsforsoob]

txt - how they propose

a/n: I got inspo to write this when dates dropped for the tour! i am not officialy in posession of a pre-sale code and im hoping to get some good tickets!! i will come back with an update (LA moa's lets talk :) anyways, please enjoy! this piece was meant to be really sweet and even silly at times so please let me know what you think of it! as always, inbox is open.

yeonjun

at a fancy dinner

yeonjun is really excited when it comes to fancy, romantic outings but this one was going to be the best one of all. Of course, that’s because of his proposal plans. He is definitely the kind of guy that sort of spoils it or gives hints because he tells you to go out and get your nails, hair, etc… done. especially emphasizes getting your nails done. He covers it up by saying he loves seeing you all pretty and pampered but deep down, you sort of know what he’s hinting at. Anyways, moving on to dinner. He takes you to a fancy new restaurant that just opened in the city. It was on the top floor of some fancy building. There was a view of the city from where you both were seated at a small booth. He was sitting right next to you and talking your ear off about the day he’d had at work. He didn;t even drink, opting to let you order a drink so he can drive home. He buys you whatever you want to eat and watches you enjoy your food with those adorable, lovesick eyes. You whine at him to stop watching you but he says he can’t help but watch the love of his life. Eventually, he takes you out onto the patio of this restaurant and it was pretty empty since there were only a few more couples around. He takes in the view with you and asks you to take a cute video with him. He sets up his phone at a good angle and presses the record. He goes back to you and kisses your cheek. He takes your distraction as an opportunity to pull the ring out of his pants pocket and when he pulls away, he gets down on one knee and proposes. “Will you do me the biggest favor ever and be my Mrs. Choi?” 

soobin 

at home

Soobin was never one for big romantic gestures and he was happy that you were okay with it. His ideal date was at home, snuggled up on the couch or in a pillow fort, watching movies or playing video games together. sure, he did take you on little outings once in a while but he preferred staying home. When it came to his proposal plans, his logic was to stay home, plan and cook a little dinner and use all the extra money to buy you the prettiest ring he could find. He loved the whole ring shopping process “i know this probably isn't from some of the members. anyways, he tells you of his date plans for the night and you were into it. He tells you to dress normally with one of his hoodies and your favorite sweatpants or leggings (soobin loves your legs in leggings btw. he said so). you come in and he is dressed relaxed as well in those gray sweats you liked and a t-shirt you gave him as part of his birthday gift. He serves your dinners and then he takes you to his bed, getting comfortable together. after one episode of that new anime the both of you had started, he turns over to get something from his nightstand. he shuffles to sit on his knees and reveals the box to you, opening it shortly after. "i know this probably isn't the best proposal but we’ve had such a nice night. I love spending time at home with you. can we be homebodies together, forever?'' You nod and hug him super tight and he returns the hog. He gives you a sweet kiss after putting the ring on your finger and you two go back to watching your show and cuddling.

beomgyu

theme / amusement park

This man is so cute when it comes to a proposal. Let’s just say for the sake of this story that he takes you on an LA trip and you both have a knotts berry farm day! You two decided to skip out on disney because you two have already been together on a previous trip. You both also really wanted to see all of the snoopy memorabilia. You both have an amazing day getting on rides, drinking boysenberry juice and talking to each other the whole time. He loves seeing you so happy so he never says no to you not once that whole day. He lets you drag him to all of the performances happening at the park and even lets you take a picture of him with Snoopy, making finger guns at one another. As the day starts to wind down, you both decided to go souvenir shopping. Huening specifically requested a snoopy t-shirt so you both went to find him one. Beomgyu asks you to pick the t-shirt and he stays behind to find a snoopy plush to include in his proposal. He finds one and pays for it, as well as the requested souvenir you picked. He takes you back out to the park and you both take a seat to rest for a while before leaving the park. You take out your phone and dont notice when he turns around. He takes the plush out of the store bag and the ring out of his bag. He puts it in the plushies hand and turns back around. He taps your shoulder and you are met with a snoopy with an engagement ring in his hand. “Will you marry me, pretty lady?” he says in a high pitched voice and you gasp so loud that people turn around to look. You are absolutely red but you nod and beomgyu makes the plush put the ring on your finger. You call him a dork but he doesn't mind. He's your dork, forever. 

taehyun

at the beach

you and taehyun went to the beach often. it was always so quiet, especially when you two visited at night. These outings were frequent, especially when you both went to travel somewhere different. In this case though, you were both home in Korean. Taehyun was on a small break during the summer time before their next tour and he decided that now was as good as ever to propose. He drove the both of you to your favorite beach at around 8pm. On the way there, you both made stops to get dinner and then to pick up some snacks to enjoy while hanging out at the beach. Once you both get there, Taehyun sets up your beach blanket and you both sit down, starting to snack on some grapes. Taehyun took about 30 minutes before he decided to ask you. He scoots close to you and pulls the little box out of his bag. you give him a confused look and he opens it, looking at your shocked reaction. He wanted to give a whole speech but his words got stuck in his throat when he saw your reaction. you say yes to him and he hugs you, slipping the ring on after.

huening kai

in your hometown / family dinner

I think kai is really big when it comes to family so having your family present for such a big event was important for him. Not only that, it was also really important for him to get along with your family and have their approval. So, during this trip to your hometown over a winter break, he sends you off to go shopping with your close cousin/sibling. He takes this opportunity to gather the rest of your family and ask for their approval to propose to you and of course they say yes! They even help him plan a whole thing. They were excited to see that he loved you a lot and cared enough to ask for their opinions and approval. This especially swayed your parents, who came up to him after and had a little chat with him about what they’d do if he ever hurt you. Moving on….you come back home from shopping and you show kai all your finds! Later on that night, your family is all gathered together in the backyard around a bonfire, having drinks and chatting. After a little while, your family gives kai strange looks and you’re sitting there absolutely confused. Kai looked over at you and smiled, “hey baby. I wanna ask you something. Will you do me a big honor and marry me?” he pulls out the ring and as soon as you say yes, he slips it on your finger and everyone cheers!

[gyaruhana]

this may be a bit random, but could you write something for Choi Wook-Seok (the guy who plays rock, paper, scissors, minus one + helps with the search)

I’ve seen nothing about him online at all but I really liked him (maybe I’m just delusional)

It would be amazing if you could do something where the reader was an ex coworker (or just a friend) of Jun Ho and gets pulled into the little take down mission from episode 2. There she meets Wook-Seok and he gets really flustered around her or something.

thank you so much and good work on all your fics

Woo-Seok - Flustered

Synopsis: Woo-seok thinks you're really pretty and gets quite shy

A/N: Sorry this took so long to post i've been drowning in requests!!

Warnings: none

“So, just to clarify, you want me to join you to kidnap some guy who is apparently hosting death games and killing hundreds of people yearly on an unknown island?” you speak as you look at Jun-ho. When your old friend texted you asking to meet, you thought he had wanted to go out for a coffee and catch up - not try to convince you to help him find some guy running some deadly game on an island he's been trying (and failing) to find for two years now.

“I know how it sounds but I’m not making this up,” he says as he looks at you with a serious look. Jun-ho was well aware that his story sounded like the words of a mad man but there was really no way to not sound crazy talking about something like this. He was hoping that you'd just trust him and agree to this because your help would be valuable to getting this done.

You could see the look on his face that showed he clearly wasn't joking around and was dead serious about needing your help with this. However, as much as you did want to help him, you weren’t a police detective anymore. You had quit long ago and taken up a different job that didn’t put you in any danger. Something like this could be seriously dangerous and result in the harm of a lot of people. You let out a sigh as you ran a hand through your hair.

“Jun-ho. As much as I want to help, you know I don’t do that stuff anymore. I left it behind me years ago,” you say as you look at him with an apologetic look. You weren’t confident that you could just jump back into work like this. After all, if he was telling the truth, this would be a lot more than just a simple kidnapping and arrest. It’d be an all-out war - the one thing you wanted to avoid.

Jun-ho understood where you were coming from but he didn’t want to give up on you. When you used to work together in the police department, you were an excellent detective. You had a talent and it was being wasted for things that didn’t matter. This mattered. “Just keep watch then. You don’t have to come with us inside. I just need the skill I know you have to help us,” He says as he puts a comforting hand on your shoulder.

You stayed quiet for a few moments as you just looked at him, analyzing him to figure out whether you should listen to him. Were you really going to join him on a mission to kidnap some potentially dangerous guy? You let out a sigh before looking off to the side with slight annoyance. You took a deep breath before looking at him again. “I’ll help,” you say and Jun-ho immediately smiles, glad to have you on his side. He trusted you with his life and he knew you would prove a great help.

He pats your shoulder twice before pulling his hand away. “Good. We're meeting here tomorrow,” he says as he hands you a small piece of paper with an address. You looked down at it and nodded your head slowly. “Time is valuable so be here early,” he adds as he puts his hands into his pockets. 

“Got it. I'll be there first thing tomorrow morning,” you say as you shove the piece of paper into your pocket and look up at him. Jun-ho nods his head in approval before swiftly walking away and leaving you on your own to think. If Jun-ho hadn't been such a good ally when you worked in the force together, you would've never agreed to this wild goose chase. But, unfortunately, he had done you a favor one too many times so saying no was off the table.

You let out another sigh as you looked to the horizon and thought about what tomorrow might bring. 

“They better have guns,” 

✧･ﾟ: ✧･ﾟ:

The next day, you arrived at the rather strange choice of a meet up place. It looked like a run down motel that offers its rooms for ridiculously cheap to those who couldn't afford anything better. You stare at it for a few moments before heading towards the door. When you went to open it, it didn't budge, so you looked around to see if there was something you could open it with.

Your eyes quickly landed on a camera watching you from above which you decide to wave at in hopes that the door would open for you. Thankfully, it did as you heard a buzz indicating it was now opened. You quickly walked in and began to climb the stairs to the correct floor written on the paper. You could hear the faint sounds of gunshots - something that made you more relaxed because thank god they do have guns in case this goes south.

When you arrived at the correct floor, you could already see Jun-ho waiting outside a room for you. He seemed anything but relaxed and you couldn't blame him. Something like this was a whole other level of dangerous. They pretty much only had one shot at getting this right or else it'd be all over. 

“This way. The rest of the team is in here,” Jun-ho speaks as he leads you down the hallway and into a room. When you walk in, the first thing you notice is the shit ton of won lying on a bed. Your eyes widen at the sight as Jun-ho leads you past into the bathroom which was filled with a shit ton of guns. You looked around the small bathroom in slight shock at how prepared they happened to be. You weren't going to ask where they got all these guns from but you could guess they were all illegally obtained from the black market. There was also a lot of ammo for the guns too. 

Finally, Jun-ho pushes back a blue curtain revealing a hole in the wall that led to a giant space which seemed like it used to be separate rooms before the walls were removed. There were three guys  shooting at the targets all the way on the back wall while three other guys stood behind them. They clearly meant business.

Woo-seok noticed the presence of Jun-ho and immediately looked at him. He had yet to notice you standing right behind Jun-ho. “These guys were in the marine corps!” he shouts out as he looks over at Gi-hun with wide eyes. He was rather impressed with himself for managing to make a team with professionals.

“These guys were in the UDT,” he shouts again while walking forward and gesturing to two other guys. “and these guys were in the ROK Special Forces,” he finishes as he gestures to the last two guys. “Oh, and this guy is just a former cop,” he says as he points at Jun-ho. 

“Me too,” you say, making Woo-seok snap his head towards you. He immediately froze up. He recalled Jun-ho saying that he'd bring an old coworker and friend but he didn't think that he'd bring someone as pretty as you. You had him rendered speechless so quickly and suddenly, he was very aware of the people looking at him. 

“This is my co-worker. I told you about her,” Jun-ho says as he steps back a little so you could have some space to reveal yourself. “She was great at her job when we worked together so she'll be a big help,” he adds. Gi-hun seems to nod his head before looking back at the men shooting but Woo-seok couldn't tear his eyes away from you.

“..Is there something on my face?” you ask as you rub your face once-over just in case. You didn't know what he was staring at you for but it was kind of endearing in an odd way. “no! Sorry. I'm Woo-seok,” he quickly introduced himself as he tried to calm down and not grin like an idiot. God, he could feel himself start to sweat.

“Glad to be on the same team,” you say as you hold your hand out for him to shake it. He quickly grabs your hand and shakes it vigorously, taking you by surprise at the suddenness and aggressiveness. “uhm- me too,” he stutters out before quickly pulling his hand back after realizing he was holding yours for a little too long. 

You stare at him with slight confusion as you couldn't tell what brought along this behavior. He seemed awfully sweaty all of a sudden and his face seemed to flush a reddish color. He could also barely get a word out without stuttering. Usually people only acted like when they had a crush-

Wait. Did he have a crush on you?? He certainly seemed to display all the signs of a potential crush. Maybe you could just ask. Would that be too straightforward? You didn't want to embarrass him, you just genuinely wanted to know if he liked you but asking him out right might be a little much.

“uh- so you used to be in the police department?” He questioned, making an attempt at small talk with you in hopes to hide how nervous he was. He really didn't want to give a bad first impression to a girl so pretty. You nodded your head and started to talk about it but he could barely focus. He was suddenly hyper-aware of everything about him including his mannerisms. 

Was he smiling too much? Was his stance weird? Did you feel uncomfortable with him looking at you? His mind was too consumed by the thoughts of what you thought about him. He thought about making a joke but maybe you wouldn't find it funny at all and there would be an awkward silence. It was just too much for him to handle. He'd much like to disappear now just to avoid doing something embarrassing in front of you.

“..woo-seok?” You call out as you look at him weirdly. He seemed to be in his own world right now. Something was evidently stuck on his mind. You, probably. You could easily tell how he felt about you. You did use to work as a detective after all. Reading people is what you do. You sigh and shake your head at his nervous behavior before speaking up.

“If you like me, just ask me out,” you say, making his eyes widen as he snaps out of his trance. He looked at you in disbelief, not entirely sure that he actually heard you correctly. “What?” He says as he feels his heart race a million times faster than it had been previously.

“If you like me, ask me out,” you repeat seriously. You found his shyness quite cute honestly and you actually didn't think you'd be against the idea of going out with him. He really just seemed like a sweetheart.

“..really?” He said as he nervously smiled. He sheepishly rubs the back of his neck with his hand before looking around at the other's. “well.. if you don't mind..” he says as he looks at you with a hopeful look.

“You gotta ask me like a man, c’mon,” you say playfully as you push his shoulder gently with a smirk. He laughed shyly before taking a deep breath. “Okay,” he says as he composes himself before looking down at you.

“Would you maybe like to go out sometime?”

[jmdbjk]

We are sure.

WARNING, SPOILERS.

I have no doubt that every now and then, especially in the beginning, at the end of a long day or when they are tasked with doing something they've never encountered... they look at each other and say ...

And it allows them to laugh it off. They said they were making memories they could look back on while doing their service. What a fantastic period of time they had to create these memories.

This ending scene of the last episode of Are You Sure? has changed the way I think about that moment of them from the Bangtan Bomb of their enlistment day.

On their enlistment day we were so sad and were convinced they were too. And they were. But at that time we had no idea the fun they had during these three fantastic trips, they ate some wonderful food, drank a lot of beer, saw sights they don't have time to see when they are traveling for promotions and performing, spent a lot of "just being" time together which is obviously something they enjoy doing.

And knowing that at the end of Jungkook's I Am Still documentary, there was a scene of him showing Jimin his shaved head... it's as close to seeing it all play out as we're ever going to get. Piece it all together and you have a clear picture of this strong connection they have with each other.

Like Hobi said in his recent Weverse letter, I hope Jimin and Jungkook have come to realize by now it will all be ok. 27 days left until Hobi is back. 8 months, 23 days until Jimin and Jungkook are back. 38 more Mondays.

And they gave us a tiny bit of hope that this isn't the end of Are You Sure.

Delulu time: They have a lot of time to scheme and plan a reboot. Planning the next trip can also help them have something to look forward to. Like Jin did, they can do a quick live at the Hybe building before jetting off to Bora Bora or Alaska to start filming the reboot of AYS. They can make it happen if they want to. It will be another ten days after their discharge before Yoongi is free too and the group can be one again. They can go away for a few days, get comfortable with cameras and civilian clothes again. Get busy, Universe! Please?

All along, Jungkook was expressing his love for these trips, his excitement for the experiences, his enthusiasm for the good food and his easy-going vibe because he's with someone who fits him so well. Jimin enjoys the vibe of being with Jungkook and enjoys watching Jungkook be immersed in everything that brings him joy. He said if we watched these episodes, this is what its like at home.

They made it clear there are no other people on earth either of them would rather be with than each other for these trips. Jungkook said it himself: these were the best trips of his life. Jimin teared up a little when it was time to head to the airport. This was a chapter closing in their lives. If it impacted them this much, they will for sure somehow try to do it again after military service.

Besides the fact the two loved creating this, the series has been ranking high in viewers which would help sway any decisions as to whether a reboot is worth the expense. Of course it is!

Questions: I guess the behind episodes will also be on Disney? Why would they be submitted for ratings if they were only going to be on BangtanTV? Or maybe they'll be on Weverse too?

With the purchase of the photo book, there is a digital code for 52 more minutes of footage. We'll begin seeing clips of that on Sept. 29 when people begin receiving their copies. Got mine! Can't wait for it to get here!

[tojivu]

Megumi and reader after a two week separation because of megumis mission. He admits that he almost died to reader and talks about what happens after.

empty spaces ⋆ megumi fushiguro

an. argh sorry i got carried away LOL

cw. sfw, gn!reader, comfort + fluff

playing. bills by enhypen.

the bed's been useless these past few days.

it's as if the weeks have been drawn out, the universe adding new hours to each of the days so they're longer than they should be — that's what it's been feeling like.

you refuse to sleep in the master bedroom. the pillows next to your head smell too much like your boyfriend; hints of mint shampoo linger and enter your nose as you try to sleep, but ultimately fail to do so.

megumi's been gone for a bit now, and you haven't gotten much news, either. yaga's always talking about classified information and how 'the public shouldn't be concerned with jujutsu affairs' — anxiety pits in your stomach because why couldn't he just tell you whether your boyfriend was dead?

you try to distance yourself from places in the house that remind you of him, incase he's really gone this time; you believe it'll make things easier for you, but it feels as if someone's cutting away at the vessels closest to your heart whenever you imagine it — imagine megumi's body laying lifeless as they transport it back to tokyo.

megumi's never been gone for more than 3 days, especially on a mission. he's usually quick with it, coming home with a cut or two on the arms or face; it'll heal just fine, because he always asks you to take care of his wounds.

you usually sit on his lap as you bandage him up. he winces at the sting of the antiseptic, his fingers gripping harshly at your waist and then you'll tell him to sit still — he never listens, gets all grumbly with furrowed eyebrows — until you clean him up and put on the last bandaid, kiss him over the piece of clear film (and maybe an extra on the lips, if they aren't bleeding too); it's only then he finally shuts up.

you wonder how long you'll have to sit together on the kitchen island this time, if he comes home, that is — you don't think you'll mind the back and arm strain this time. you just want to see him.

"relax," gojo reassures over the phone. "he'll be back soon."

those words mean nothing to you. he's been gone for 14 days now, and he hasn't called — his location hasn't updated, either, you think he must've broken it during the fight or something.

a few sentences are exchanged between satoru and you, before your finger taps the red button at the bottom of your screen; unsatisfied doesn't, couldn't, describe your current thoughts — you were enraged that that was the only piece of information that was provided.

it takes a few hours for you to calm your thoughts. they make your head spin and heart sink, jump around like marbles on clean linoleum and deafen the shows you play on television.

you're watching megumi's favourite drama, which happens to be your favourite drama, too — he was the one who introduced it to you. you're seven episodes in when you hear the front door creak open; so loud that it reminds you to get the hinges replaced.

megumi was supposed to call the guy. it's clear you might have to ring him up yourself, now.

you wonder if it could be nobara. she didn't tag along with yuji or megumi, and you've been ignoring her calls for the past week or so — she must be here to give you a good lecture.

you hear faint groans and bags dropping to the floor, close to the entryway. you aren't greeted by a loud "[name]" as you usually would by nobara. a shiver travels down your spine, hairs on the back of your neck beginning to stand.

you throw the woven blanket off of your body and to the side of the couch — the socks on your feet lubricate your steps and you almost trip with how fast you make your way to the door.

"[name]," his voice calls, rasp voice barely reaching your ears. "i'm home."

megumi's lip is bloody, bandages wrapped over his right eye and around his head — his left arm and leg had some cuts, as well; but those seem to have scabbed already.

you want to call his name, but nothing comes out of your mouth; only a small whimper before your lover is wrapping his arms around your torso. "sorry i was gone for so long."

the pit in your stomach is gone now, almost instantaneously — instead, you begin to sob into megumi's jacket.

megumi feels the guilt but the comfort of having you in his hold overpowers it. if it didn't, he was sure he would be tearing up, too; he never liked seeing you cry.

"megs," you sniffle. "i thought you were—"

"i almost did," megumi cuts you off. he didn't want you to say those words, though he knows being a sorcerer had his fate sealed — but it didn't mean he wanted you to know that. "but i'm alright, see?"

megumi smiles down at you, as if it didn't hurt to move the muscles in his face: they stung like small needles, but he sees the relief wash over your face like a splash of cold water — so he thinks he can put up the act for a bit longer.

"you're all bloody," you mutter. "can i clean that for you?"

you point at his lip and he nods, wincing at your finger that tries to inspect the cut a little closer — it's a familiar feeling: your delicate fingers treating him like glass.

megumi's standing in front of you, and you're sitting on the kitchen island so you can actually reach his face. he lets you do your thing and he's fighting every urge to kiss your lips; he knows the cut will only get worse.

"i don't want you to go missing on me like that," you say. "never again."

"i won't," he assures, fingers toying with the hem of your shirt as you continue cleaning his cuts. "can't die yet."

"ever," you correct. "don't plan on dying, ever."

"i'm not immortal, [name]."

"that's not my problem to fix."

he smiles at your attitude — megumi might really have to figure out a way to become immortal now — freeze the cells that are dying in his body before his bones get too tired to move, stop the pigment in his hair from fading.

"okay." he breathes, hands finding their way around your waist — he taps your legs to open wider to let him fit between. " but you'll have to be immortal too, then."

"why?" you question. "i don't go around killing myself to chase curses."

"when you die, i'll be lonely," megumi explains. "need you to fill the empty space on the bed."

you laugh, trying to think of a witty comeback — you were still upset at your boyfriend for going MIA — but the look he's giving you makes it difficult not to give in.

"is that the only reason you're dating me?"

"maybe," he lies. "i didn't buy such a big bed for nothing. can't let it go to waste."

you gasp, too dramatic to be real — you put the gauze down and give him a stern look, and he lets a giggle slip through his lips before you get to nag him again.

"i'm just kidding, baby," megumi begins to kiss your frown away, pressing his blood stained lips to yours. "i love you for far more than that."

and it's just like that that you melt at megumi fushiguro's words — his red lips and blushed face making your heart skip more beats than humanly possible.

"whatever." you continue to feign anger, yet your arms are still wrapped around his neck. he knows your attitude will last for at least a week.

his lips hurt, and he thinks your hard work has gone to waste with the way he's peppering kisses all over your face.

your hands find his jaw and you lead him into an actual kiss, and you realise he tastes like antiseptic — a little blood in the mix, too — but you can't really complain.

"i'm serious."

you wonder if it's megumi who fills the void you have, or whether it's you who fills his. whether that be in the form of empty beds or an empty house, you know for certain that everything feels off without him — missing like a centre puzzle piece.

"i know," you run your fingers through his rough and matted hair. "i love you too, megs."

"think you'll have to wash my hair for me, too."

you shake your head. "probably has lice."

"we'll have lice together, then." your boyfriend shrugs his shoulders.

"that's so gross, megs," your face sours. "you're such a romantic."

200124 — WHY IS THIS SO LONG DAMN

[half-bakedboy]

Dialogue Prompt: "Stop crying, we both know it's fake."

this is a direct attack but man did inspiration strike :p

read on ao3

“I always thought I’d die alone. I’ve been nothing but undeserving of this life, Minerva, but you… You made me feel like I deserved something. So, if this is the end and I get to spend it with you, I don’t have any regrets.” 

Each word from the television is like a knife to Eddie’s heart, and he pulls Buck closer to him with each passing declaration. 9-9-9 was the show that brought him and Buck together. Minerva and Billy were the couple that reminded Eddie that he isn’t broken, that he doesn’t need to do anything more than be himself to deserve someone like Buck. 

And now, after eight seasons of more ups and downs than most couples could find their way through, Minerva’s tears soak her face as her fiancé, Billy, says his final goodbyes. 

“It’s just not fair!” Eddie mutters. He wipes at his face, trying his best to hide it from Buck, but the hiccup in his voice gives everything away. Buck chuckles and turns to face Eddie, rubbing his fingers over the runaway tears on Eddie’s neck. 

“It’s not funny, Buck!” Eddie pushes at his boyfriend’s shoulder, only earning another small laugh. 

“Billy’s not dead, Eddie. There’s no way they would be that stupid. Plus, we’ve seen his actor on set since then, and there’s a leaked script and everything!” Buck holds up his phone and swipes through his camera roll. There’s behind the scenes photos, blurry stills of videos, and screenshots of articles that at a glance seem like interviews with the cast and crew following the episode. Eddie feels his heart burst at the effort Buck has obviously put into gathering each careful piece of evidence that his favorite character is alive. 

“Are you telling me that we’re potentially grieving this fictional character all because the writer wanted to,” Eddie squints as he reads the article, “do something the audience has never seen before?” 

Buck nods. “Yupp. It’s like this guy thinks he’s some God among men.” He rolls his eyes and absentmindedly swipes his hand over Eddie’s cheek to catch any remaining tears. “There’s no way they’re going to let Billy leave like that, not after everything he and Minerva have been through. It’s just not good writing. Plus, they have to get married so that we can steal their vows for our own. It’d only make sense.” 

Eddie almost misses it in the casual way Buck says the words. Buck’s thinking about marrying him, about using their favorite show in their vows, about having a future with him… And yeah, Eddie knows that and feels the exact same, but to hear it like this, while he’s already a bundle of emotions over a character he relates to so viscerally. It causes even more tears to stream down his face. 

“Stop crying, we both know it’s fake!” Buck admonishes, and his tone forces a wet chuckle from Eddie’s throat. 

“I’m not crying over Billy, Evan, I’m crying over you,” Eddie admits. After a few seconds of confusion made obvious by the way Buck’s eyebrows pull together, Eddie adds, “You spoiled yourself so that I would feel better about this episode.” 

“Yeah, so?” Buck asks, confusion still evident, like it’s just another Friday in their house. “I know how much he means to you and obviously to everyone who watches 9-9-9. He’s… what makes the show what it is. He’s the reason that I fell in love with the show, fell in love with– you…” Buck blushes like he didn’t mean to make that admission, but Eddie can’t hold back a grin. 

“You really think he’s alive?” Eddie asks, curling into Buck’s side as their next show begins. 

“If he isn’t, I’ll write you his resurrection myself.” 

“I’ll hold you to that.”

[tippenfunkaport]

For today’s SPOP Appreciation Week prompt: Remember / Memory

My daughter drew this when she was 5 years old, shortly after we watched the first season of SPOP together in November 2018. Getting to watch this show as it aired with her is one of my fondest memories, especially since she didn’t just like it, this was the first thing she was full on OBSESSED with.

And when I say obsessed, understand that one of the baby’s first words was, “Faaaaacinating!” because she was mimicking her sister pretending to be Entrapta.

Background When She-Ra and the Princesses of Power premiered in 2018, my daughter was five years old, a few weeks from turning 6. She and I were already big ND Stevenson fans because we’d read the entire run of Lumberjanes together and, as an old school She-Ra fan, I was incredibly excited to experience the reboot with her. We watched it as it aired together and the main reason I wasn’t in the fandom during airing was because we could only watch one episode a night after her baby sister was asleep so I was trying to avoid spoilers.

I’ve talked before how watching it with her made it hard to hear a lot of the dialog (fast forward to me and my now tween watching Agatha All Along together recently and I’m pummeling her lovingly with a pillow because she still never lets me hear anything) but it was so absolutely worth it and it’s one of my all time favorite things I’ve gotten to share with her. SPOP is such ideal media for kids in general but specifically weird little girls and it means the world to me that she got to have this show.

Some random memories…

Once we finished a season, she would rewatch it over and over by herself. Her obsession was specifically with the Princess Alliance as a team (she’s an ensemble girlie like her mom, hence is why one of her other passions are the Champions from BOTW) so her favorites were No Princess Left Behind, Battle of Bright Moon and then, later, The Coronation and Mermysteries. (And System Failure because of Entrapta, obvs)

No Princess Left Behind was a cornerstone of her entire personality for a while there and whenever they had indoor recess at school, she would spend the entire time drawing up elaborate battle plans for the princess alliance.

Because there were no SPOP plushies in the beginning, she just reassigned her existing dolls as SPOP characters and would hold battle planning sessions with them constantly. (The only two I remember were Rapunzel as Perfuma and Cassandra as Entrapta because once “Entrapta” and “Perfuma” got stranded in a dimension where they were going to die and she had them say, “let’s transform back into Cass and Raps so at least we can die in love.” No one does deranged next level doomed yuri like a kindergartner.)

The show is rated Y7 in the US and when I explained that meant it was for 7 years old and up, she got the absolutely sinister grin of a child that is breaking the rules and said gleefully, “And I’m only five!”

The end of Season 3 was the first time she ever cried at a piece of media ever and I was convinced I was a terrible parent for showing it to her. :-(

After years of Netossa and Spinnerella being obscure toy collector trivia even most vintage She-Ra fans had never heard of, watching my Kindergartner run around playing as them was just a very fun moment for me.

She talked about and played SPOP with us constantly and when I finally got a chance to watch the show with daddy, he was like, “Hold on, do you mean to tell me I have been hearing about Entrapta for two years straight and somehow it never came up that her hair is ALIVE???”

We had a good two year span after the show ended when she was still just as obsessed as I was which really fed my own obsession since she’d suggest fanfics and posts for me to write. Then, as she started to move onto other things, fortunately “the baby” was now old enough to actually watch SPOP with me and I got to experience it all over again through her eyes.

But that’s a post for another time.

[doctorbitchcrxft]

Am I Making You Feel Sick? | Supernatural Series Rewrite | A doctorbitchcrxft original | Dean Winchester x Fem!Reader

Pairing: Dean Winchester x Fem!Reader

Warnings: literally every warning ever, y/n's in a rough ass spot dude, hallucinations, recovering from a sexual assault (PLS HEED THIS WARNING THIS CHAPTER REFERS TO THIS HEAVILY), slightly toxic relationship dynamic, mentions of torture, discussions of religious trauma, discussing parental death, discussing major character death, isolation, depression, discussions of anxiety/not eating bc of it, y/n's personality is changin', man. off the rails fr, canon violence, canon gore, nightmares

Word Count: 6509

A/N: TEEHEE my first original episode!!! this episode is very heavy (obvi bc dean just died) but i still hope you guys enjoy it!!!!

IMPORTANT ANNOUNCEMENT:

the first episode of season 4 will be published on January 18, 2025 (how is it 2025 already). I do apologize for the delay, but I want to make sure that my writing is absolutely perfect for you guys because I love you very dearly.

Thank you, thank you, thank you.

Mobile Supernatural Series Rewrite Masterlist

Supernatural Series Rewrite Masterlist

Supernatural Series Rewrite Playlist

What a curious animal you'd become.

Killing was a part of your job. You danced with death on a daily basis; nothing about the concept was unfamiliar to you. And yet, everything you felt was completely foreign.

Grief: a simple word to encapsulate such a complex feeling. You thought you'd grieved before, and of course, you had. But losing Stephen, your mother, and your father couldn't even begin to scratch the surface of what losing him felt like.

Dean was gone. He was gone, and there was nothing you could do to change it.

The first day was his funeral. You and Sam refused to let Bobby burn his body; each of you knowing your insistence was due to a desire to go make demon deals yourselves. You were sure Bobby knew, too, but he said nothing. He simply helped Sam fashion a coffin out of a tree they cut down while you tried to piece Dean back together.

Tears fell on the stitches as you worked, water dampening the blood that had dried around the edges of the wounds. You did your best to clean the wounds gingerly, and you briefly laughed at yourself for being so careful when he wasn't even alive anymore. You quickly collapsed in a heap of sobs, biting the side of your hand nearest your pinky to keep yourself quiet.

Brushing his hair back, you would bend down occasionally to press kisses to his forehead. You cradled his head in your lap until the position you were in got uncomfortable. Feeling a lump in the back pocket of your jeans, you took out the wallet that was stowed there and tossed it aside. In the process, the little slip of paper Dean had given you at Christmas fell out.

Remembering what it was, you smiled fondly. It was his "coupon" he'd given you to redeem when he passed. It was a sweet gesture in an incredibly fucked up way, but your heart just hurt as you ran your hand over the pendant still around his neck.

You stared at his handwriting for a while, remembering when he'd jokingly asked you for cursive lessons after watching you write in your journal. His handwriting was admittedly horrendous, but you found it adorable. There was nothing you wouldn't do to see his hands move again.

You kissed the paper, folded it up, and stowed it in the only pocket of his jeans that wasn't ripped. The amulet felt foreign around your neck, but its weight brought you a slight bit of comfort.

Come to think of it, you'd never watched a loved one die. You'd had to kill your parents after they were turned, but that was completely different from watching the life drain from someone you loved with every bit of your soul.

You felt like you'd never leave that day. You'd never stop reliving those last few moments or his last words to you. Dean was never good with words; he showed his love in other ways. But his final profession of love to you was absolutely what you needed to hear, and yet, you felt no sense of closure.

Sam helped Bobby lower the casket into the ground, and you marked it with a cross they'd made from two extra pieces of wood.

As soon as you'd shoveled the last bit of dirt over the casket, you kissed Sam's cheek, then Bobby's, then sped off in one of Bobby's cars aimlessly.

****

You hadn't answered calls from Sam or Bobby since Dean's funeral.

You had forgotten how hard this was; being alone.

From the time your parents died when you were eighteen to the time you met the Winchesters at twenty-six, you'd been almost completely alone. Every day was spent in complete silence. You wouldn't speak unless spoken to, or unless it was necessary to move a case forward. Sure, you enjoyed music on road trips, but the car wasn't filled with laughter or witty chatter.

Hunting wasn't exactly a lively or rewarding profession. It never felt like your life was your own; it was always spent in the service of keeping everyone else safe. As a child, you frequently questioned why that was your responsibility. Your father would always tell you, "Because that's how we've always done it."

As far as you knew, everyone before you in your family had been hunters. You were the last surviving of a long line of hunters that your father always told you dated back to the birth of the first vampire. You weren't quite sure if that was your father over exaggerating, but you grew up believing this was what you were destined for.

As a young woman, you didn't even entertain the idea of doing anything else with your life. You had no skills, no documentation, no money, and no family. Where else could you go aside from diners to search the morning paper for an interesting obituary?

When you met Bobby, you thought that maybe things could be different. He'd found you after a hunt gone wrong against a werewolf, holding your insides together with your hoodie wrapped around your waist. The scariest part of your scrape with death was that you weren't even afraid of dying in that moment.

Steven had been the light of your world. You felt such a maternal relationship with him given the unbelievable amount of time you spent taking care of him while your parents were away, and his death truly hit you the hardest.

Your grief lessened with the passage of time, but you'd learned recently that all you'd done was numb it. You never truly healed from the loss of your parents and brother.

However, despite the tedious and often strife-filled existence you led, you were happy. At least, you believed you were happy, because you hadn't ever known what that felt like; that was, until you met the Winchesters. The little friend group you formed with them was your light in the darkness.

You felt cheated. If there was a god, he was a merciless bastard for giving you the best thing you could've asked for and ripping him away from you so soon. 

Over and over, Dean's screams from that horrific night echoed in your mind. No amount of music could drown out the sounds rattling around your head.

That was when you were awake. When you would sleep, though, you’d dream of his experience in Hell. 

The first time it’d happened the night after his funeral, you heard Dean screaming yours and Sam’s names over and over again, begging for help. And the next night, it happened again. The dreams of his experience in Hell were only becoming more vivid. Hooks tore through his flesh and kept the skin taut as he dangled over the demons who'd come to torture him. The nightmares were becoming so bad that you were afraid to sleep. 

You'd wake with a start to the sound of Dean screaming your name, voice raw and pleading. You couldn't take it anymore. 

It was as if he was just out of your reach. You were frozen in space just too far from Dean. Seeing him should have comforted you, but this was only hurting you further. You would have rathered never see him again than continuously watch him go through something so horrific.

The thing that finally broke you completely was a dream you had about Dean talking to you while he was tortured. 

"Oh, god, (Y/N)," Dean cried as a demon called Alistair ripped into his flesh, "(Y/N), it hurts, help me, please! God, I can’t fucking take this anymore!" 

When you awoke from that dream, you knew what you had to do. Somehow, someway, you were going to get a ticket to the pit, and you'd drag him out yourself. Even if you couldn't, at least you'd get to see him again. You'd tried to make deals, but no one would budge. Thus, you became desperate.

****

You abandoned your phone and laptop and continuously swapped out the cars you stole; only black cars, though, to help conceal you in the night. Every few weeks, you decided you'd switch out the wig you wore. Sometimes, you'd stuff your clothes to make your body shape change or steal a pair of reading glasses from a drug store to skew your appearance further.

After the Mystery Spot in Florida when the trickster made you believe Dean was dead for six months, you weren’t quite ready to go as far as you were willing now. Now, with the assurance that Dean was truly suffering given your recurring, horrible dreams, you were done.

The first stop on your mission was the prison where your life was changed forever. You'd been stalking the man responsible for a little over a week now. Avoiding the watchful eye of the Winchesters' old friend Deacon was difficult, but you managed. At last, the day came where you'd confront him. 

In the dark of the guard's home, whose name you'd learned was Evan Kirkpatrick, you waited with a chloroform rag in your hand.

You didn't even allow him to turn the lights on before you were dragging his unconscious body out to the van you'd stolen.

****

In the middle of nowhere in Montana, you'd found a cabin when you were around twenty-two years old. It became your safe house when you needed it. Not even the Winchester brothers knew about it, and you preferred it that way. You knew if you'd told Sam about it, this would’ve been the first place he'd look for you when you first disappeared.

You had the guard securely tied to a chair in the center of the room. You played one of the records that had been left in the cabin and whistled along to it.

Sheets of plastic covered the floor beneath Evan's and your shoes to make for an easy cleanup when you were done with him.

The man before you slowly started to awaken. You remained seated comfortably next to the record player, face unchanged from its numb expression you seemed to permanently wear these days.

The guard groaned, head rolling side to side to try and get his bearings. When his eyes settled on you, he seemed to sober up immediately.

"Oh, fuck," he panicked, immediately trying to yank his way out of his binds. 

"Hi," you said nonchalantly. "Remember me?"

"Listen, I'm sorry, okay?" he whined. "But this is fucking crazy!"

"Oh, you're sorry," you laughed coldly. You stood and approached the table you set up with all sorts of weapons next to him just out of his reach. 

"Lady, look—"

"No, you listen to me," you spat, getting in his face. "We're gonna play a game. Every time you say 'no' or 'stop,' I'll drag it out even longer. Then, maybe, you'll really be sorry." 

"I am! I am!" he cried.

"Y'know, for some reason, I don't believe you." You picked up a pair of pliers from the table beside you. 

"No, no, please!" the guard wailed.

"What did I say about that word?" you taunted. 

****

Hours later, the man in front of you was on the brink of death. His entire body was littered with remnants of your work, and you were ready to deliver the final blow. Seeing this man made you physically ill, and you were just ready for it to be over.

And so, you ended it at point-blank range. You picked up the chair, the plastic mat, his body, and you dragged them outside to be burnt in a clearing outside of the cabin.

You watched it all burn emotionlessly, the numbing having returned to every one of your limbs. 

'I'm coming, Dean. I promise.'

****

As you’d mentioned to Dean, your father insisted upon you and Steven learning different methods of torture when you were younger. He thought it would enable you to survive them easier as well as be able to get the information you needed from the various creatures you hunted. 

As much as you hated to admit it, you were good at it. As fucked up as it was, your father had taught you how to detach from the reality of what you were putting another human through and focus on getting what you needed. 

What you told yourself you needed from the guard was a way to ensure you would make it down to Hell. However, in the back of your mind, you knew you’d done it because you wanted him to suffer just as you were suffering.

You knew you’d need to continuously do horrible things for your plan to work. You hoped that you would attract the attention of a demon you’d allow to use you for a ride downstairs, or a crossroads demon would find you so enticing because of your deeds that they’d make a deal with you. 

In truth, you knew that logic wasn’t sound. However, you were so desperate, you needed something, anything, to occupy your time and make you feel you were getting closer to seeing Dean again. 

You never considered yourself the emotional type before losing him. The trickster's comparison of you to Full Metal Jacket would sometimes provide you a lifeless laugh given how well he'd predicted all you'd become.

The nightmares were relentless. You tried every form of soothing yourself to sleep— meditation, a sound machine, smoking before bed— anything to possibly change your night terrors, but nothing worked. Every night, Dean was torn apart in front of you brokenly crying yours or Sam’s name.  

While you were awake, you would find your reflection staring back at you as you were on the day of your assault. The guard uniform, mussed up ponytail, and scratches on the side of your face had returned; undoubtedly due to your sleep deprivation and rapidly decaying mental state. 

You’d see flashes of Dean’s body laying on the ground in the shadows of the cabin with the gashes the Hellhound had given him or the heads of your parents’ monstrous forms. Steven appeared several times with half of his face torn to shreds, just as you’d found him in his car so long ago. 

Smoking weed didn’t help; neither did Xanax. Nothing could supply you reprieve from your anxiety-ridden days. Your anxiety was driving you to the point of being unable to eat. Exhausted, high, anxious, and malnourished, you passed out curled up in a ball on the couch. That time, a different dream disrupted your sleep.

You awoke in the middle of a clearing in the woods. The sun streamed through trees of an almost unnatural green, and the grass felt too pillowy soft beneath you.

You sat up to find a bush burning beside you.

"Seriously?" you cursed at the sky. "A burning bush? I'm not fucking Moses."

"You'd do well to mind your tongue in my presence," the bush replied.

"Well, excuse me, but you're a bush. In my dream. I don't have to do what you say," you answered.

"I'm not a bush, (Y/N). And I'm not god, either. My name is Uriel," the voice said.

"Is that supposed to mean something to me?" you snarked, crossing your arms over your chest.

"It will. I am an angel. I have been sent by god to recruit you for a mission of the utmost importance," Uriel answered.

"Yeah, right. You're an angel," you scoffed. "How come you don't have a harp and fluffy wings?"

"Frankly, your human depictions of us are insulting," replied Uriel. "I cannot show you my true face or true voice; it would blind and deafen you."

"So.. bush..." you trailed off. "Wait, why am I even entertaining this? You're not real; this is just a dream." 

"I was told you were stubborn," Uriel said more to himself than you. "How have you been sleeping?"

You scoffed. "If you're a divine being, or whatever, you should already know the answer." 

"I do. I am the one who bestowed those visions upon you," Uriel replied.

"Oh! Wonderful." You suddenly had a realization. "Wait, visions? They're not dreams?"

"No, (Y/N). Those were all very real," Uriel explained. "Michael greatly admired your craftsmanship." The angel was undoubtedly referring to your torture of the guard; you hadn’t done anything else in the last month.

"The archangel?" you questioned. "Why would he—?"

"Because that skillset is why you have been chosen for this mission," Uriel replied. "Angels, like demons, need vessels. But we need willing participants. In order for us to carry out our work, we need you to find them. Michael believes your handiwork will help us find these vessels."

You considered. "And what do I get in return?"

"You humans and... reciprocity," the angel remarked disdainfully. "All you need to know is this will help get Dean out of Hell. You know what he's experiencing presently, and I will continue to show it to you until the work is done. Do we understand each other?"

You nodded, stomach turning. "I gotta be honest, though, man, I don't know how much more of seeing Dean like that I can take."

"You will take it for as long as I say you must," he responded forcefully, the bush erupting further into flame with his anger. "Michael believes it will give you incentive to get the job done quicker. This is not up for negotiation."

Your jaw clenched in anger, but you knew better than to argue. "What do you want me to do?"

"Hunt," Uriel responded. "Find suitable vessels. And, if they do not agree to having an angel possess them, use force."

"You've gotta know no one's just gonna agree to that."

"Precisely why we've enlisted your help, (Y/N)," the angel replied monotonously. 

"What, do I just pick randoms off the street?" you scoffed.

"You'll know them when you see them," Uriel answered. 

"How do I even know this is real anyway?"

Before you could get an answer to your question, you woke up.

You sat up with a start and turned to look out the open window you had certainly closed before you went to sleep. And just outside, a bush you'd never noticed before was burning.

"Great."

****

It was nearly humorous; the times when you'd switch out your car and hear a growling dog, nearly resulting in an innocent animal being shot in the head. You'd then realize you weren't shooting at a Hellhound, and it would all come rushing back to you. Sometimes, you'd flip through the channels of the radio and find the classic rock station and immediately start sobbing. Even saying his name out loud hurt.

No respite from the nightmares was ever granted to you. There was no opportunity for you to dream of those quiet moments with Dean; no escape from the horrible reality of Dean in Hell and you becoming some angel's weapon. 

You felt like you were going crazy. You didn't feel entirely convinced to join in Uriel's game— if that had even been real— but you would do anything to help Dean. Night by night, you saw him worn down even further. His resolve was breaking, and his voice was raw from screaming your name. It broke your heart to pieces.

A few days after Uriel's visit, you went out to a town a state over to get groceries. Suddenly, you made brief eye contact with a tall black man. There was nothing particularly remarkable about him, but your ears began ringing as soon as you laid eyes on him. 

Out of nowhere, you thought, 'Uriel.'

Discreetly, you turned out of the grocery store and began to follow him. Your hands were buried in your hoodie pockets, and you kept your head down low to avoid suspicion.

However, despite the gun you were gripping in your jacket pocket, you knew you couldn't kidnap him now; it was the middle of the day, and people surrounded you.

So you followed him. For a few days, actually. You got to know his and his family's routine and when he was most likely to be alone. Finally, your opportunity arose. His daughter and wife had gone out for the little one's dance class, and night had fallen. 

You frantically pounded on his door. You pretended you were having car troubles and were new to town, so you had no friends to call.

You felt horrible because this man was so nice to you, but you would do anything for Dean. Under these circumstances, that definitely scared you. 

You took your crowbar and knocked him over the head hard, then shoved him in the backseat of the stolen sedan you drove. Needless to say, you'd have to switch it out urgently. 

****

Finally, you got back to your cabin. You dragged the man into it where new sheets of plastic had been laid over the floor and walls. 

You securely tired the man to the chair placed in the exact center of the room and waited patiently for him to wake up. 

You turned on your favorite of the cabin's records— "Laughing on the Outside" by Bernadette Carroll— and whistled along. 

Slowly, the man came to.

"Sorry about all this," you said earnestly when he became completely alert. "It's my job. It's complicated, y'know?"

"Who are you? What do you want?!" he asked frantically. "Whatever it is, I’ll— I’ll give it to you!"

"Perfect," you replied. "Then this shouldn't be difficult at all."

"What is it? Money?"

"Oh, no, no, nothing like that," you said. "Now, listen, you're gonna think I'm crazy, but—"

"I do already, don't worry," the man snarked, pulling at his restraints.

"I like you. Honestly," you commented, offering a small smile. "You believe in god?"

"What does that—"

"Just answer the question, please," you said evenly.

He nodded timidly.

"Well, one of his angels needs your help. Uriel's his name. And all you gotta do is say yes," you explained. "He just needs to borrow your body for a bit."

"What?! What the hell does that mean?" he panicked. 

"Just say yes." Your voice remained monotonous, but there was a slight pleading to it. 

"No! No way!" he said.

You sighed and got up to approach your tools. "I really didn't wanna have to do this."

****

Finally, you wore the man down. It didn't take him very long, to be fair, but it was much more difficult for you to torture an innocent person for an angel than it was to torture your rapist. 

Uriel seemed to notice your confliction. He stood from the chair having healed the man's wounds from inside his body and crossed the room to you. "Be not afraid, (Y/N)."

"I'm not... but thanks, I guess," you replied. 

"I can tell you're troubled. Keep in mind, if you choose to stop now, you will never stop dreaming of Dean in Hell," he asserted while he turned away from you.

"Hey, wait a second, that wasn't part of our deal," you said, following him. 

"We don't have a deal, (Y/N). I gave you an order," he replied calmly. His even and monotonous voice was both comforting and unsettling.

"But... what about Dean?" you protested. 

"We're not saving him for you, child. No one's that special. God has his own plan for Dean."

You rolled you eyes and turned away.

"What is it?" Uriel questioned.

"I'm just not buying this whole 'god has a plan' thing," you said, an edge of anger in your voice. "If he did, that would mean he planned for me to kill my parents. He planned for me to get raped. He planned for Dean to go to Hell—"

"He did," was all Uriel simply replied with.

Your face went slack in shock. If you didn't hate "god" before, you certainly did now.

"I'll be seeing you, (Y/N)."

When you turned around, Uriel was gone. 

****

You spent the next few days angry. Sure, the good things in the world were part of "god's plan," but so was genocide and the Holocaust. You could not wrap your head around how a loving and just god would include such terrible things in his "masterful plan." 

Then, you went numb again. You always thought that proof of the existence of a higher power would make you feel better, but it had done the exact opposite. Nothing you did seemed to matter anymore; everything you did felt like being a pawn in a game you didn't know you were playing. Dean's suffering was god's plan, and you hated god for it.

But you did as told. Nothing would stand between you and seeing Dean again, and you would do everything in your power to keep him from suffering any longer. So you continued your task. As upset as you were at the idea of torturing innocent people for a god you'd lost all faith in, you would do it a million times over for your love.

The second of the vessels came under circumstances similar to the ones you'd found Uriel's: a trip to the gas station where an overwhelming, ear-piercing sound rang through your head. 

'Zachariah,' you suddenly thought. Your heart broke at the sight of the elderly man at the pump across from you as he was to be your next victim. However, you steeled your nerves and carried on. 

****

Why did people pray? If they knew their god was creating horrible situations in their lives as part of his master plan, would they continue to? Or did they just have that much faith in his “benevolence” that they’d pray anyway? 

With the information you had now, it all seemed pointless. You felt the way Dean did: a husk of a human to be used as a weapon. With a cosmic being pulling the strings, you didn’t feel in control at all. You had never been in control. God had planned for you to suffer the way you were now. 

At fifteen pounds lighter than you’d been when Dean first died, you looked sickly. Your skin had no color, your eyes were sunken and lifeless, your hair had lost its shine, and looking at yourself in the mirror disgusted you. As time kept creeping forward, you began to see yourself not only in your guard outfit, but holding the tools that were torturing Dean from your dreams as he hung on the rack behind you. 

The first time you saw that, you screamed. You jumped back from the mirror in the living room and fell to the floor, bringing the lamp and an end table with you. Shards of glass from the lamp’s lightbulb pierced your skin, but your rapidly thumping heart drowned out the pangs and pricks coming from your right palm. 

It had been two months and seventeen days since Dean went to Hell. You weren’t consciously keeping track, but something in you always knew how long it’d been. 

You began to adjust to only sleeping for two hours a night. Sure, the bags under your eyes and paling face protested, but forcing yourself awake was better than seeing Dean like that. The demon responsible for ripping Dean apart just to put him back together and start again, Alistair, had a face that was burned into your mind. When you were done with all the angel business, you'd be killing him yourself. 

Every night, you saw Alistair approaching Dean and providing him with an offer: if Dean wanted to get off the rack, he'd have to put other souls on and torture them himself. If you were honest with yourself, you were slowly becoming more and more desperate for Dean to take Alistair up on his deal. 

Uriel had explained to you that time moved differently in Hell. What was two and a half months on Earth was more like twenty-five years in Hell. 

The nightmares didn't stop. If anything, they became worse. It was as if Uriel could sense your hesitance and was making your task that much harder to leave incomplete. 

Your hesitance was in torturing the old man that was to be Zachariah’s vessel. He and his wife had just adopted a cat, and the three lived an apple-pie life. The idea of stealing this elderly woman’s husband and putting her in the same situation you were in now was weighing heavy on your heart. 

You learned the couple had a daughter who’d passed away a few years ago. It brought the two closer to each other, their grandchildren, and their son-in-law, as she’d been their only child. Despite their close relationship, though, you knew they needed a miracle. 

You learned that the angels seemed to pick vessels who were down on their luck. Uriel’s vessel’s sister was in the hospital dying of breast cancer. 

“Uriel, they needed healing. This guy didn’t want his miracle to be a fucking angel possessing him,” you argued. Fighting with the being was futile, but you couldn’t stand by idly without giving any push back. 

“(Y/N), what more of a miracle could he ask for? He has been a devout servant of the Lord since he was a child, and god decided to answer all his prayers.” His voice was strained with barely contained anger, and his patience was draining rapidly. Still, you pushed on. 

“You said he could kick you out at any second, right? I’m surprised he hasn’t fucking done that yet. ‘Angel of the lord’ my ass. You used me, a pothead dropout to do your dirty work instead of doing it yourself. I would’ve kicked your manipulative ass out the second you—” You were cut off when the angel backhanded you powerfully. His voice was dangerously even when he spoke again. “Another word, and I will make sure you never see Dean again.”

Still in shock and hurting from the blow, you nodded weakly. When you turned your head back to where he was standing, the angel had disappeared. 

With a moment to allow what had just happened to settle in, your breathing became rapid and labored. Tears swam in your eyes, and your knees buckled. 

You were barely clinging to your sanity. Uriel was growing impatient with you and informed you Zachariah was, too. When you reminded yourself that you were simply a pawn in a cosmic chess game, you returned to your task.

The elderly man’s screams broke your heart.

“Please, please, just say, ‘yes’,” you begged him. “I don’t wanna do this to you.”

“Then, don’t,” the man sobbed. “Just let me go home to my wife.”

“No, I can’t, sir, I’m sorry.” You were barely holding back tears of your own. “Didn’t you pray for a miracle? This is it.”

“I wanted my daughter back, not some psycho with a knife to get me to agree to… ‘angelic possession’,” he replied. 

“The pain will all go away if you say, ‘yes’,” you told him. “About your daughter, from this—” you gestured to your knife and the cuts on his body, “all of it. Just say, ‘yes’.”

Finally, finally, he nodded. 

You sighed in relief. “Thank you,” you told him. 

But when you looked back up at him, the man had already been possessed by Zachariah. “Took you long enough,” he grumbled, wiping his hands off on the man’s sweater. 

Uriel was a complete dick, but he looked like a sweetheart in comparison to Zachariah. Luckily, you didn't see Zachariah so much. Three months had gone by since Dean's death, and you still saw Alistair providing Dean with his twisted offer. You knew Dean couldn't hear you, but you screamed for him to take it. You knew he'd never forgive himself, but you couldn't watch the man you loved in so much pain anymore. He had become your whole world, and your world was crumbling with each passing day. 

Then, finally, Dean accepted. 

Alistair hummed as he approached Dean, and you could do nothing but watch from the sidelines. 

A demon was individually removing the muscles from Dean’s arm, unfazed by his horrible cries. The skin had clearly been brutally ripped from it as his shoulder looked like it had been mauled by a wild animal. 

“God, fuck you,” Dean panted. 

Alistair tsked. “There’s that attitude I love so much. You know the drill, sweet cheeks, what'll it be?”

For the first time since you’d dreamt of Dean’s experience in Hell, he hesitated. 

“What’s this?” Alistair gasped dramatically. “Don’t tell me you’re going soft, Deano.”

Dean hung his head low, unmoving and not answering. 

“I need an answer, De-an,” the demon sang. 

Without picking his head up, Dean mumbled, “I'll do it.”

Your breath caught in your throat. 

“Sorry,” the demon hummed, “didn’t hear you. What was that?”

Dean grunted, “I said, I’ll do it!” with his voice cracking. 

“That’s what I like to hear,” Alistair chuckled, a sickening smile spreading across his face.

As much as your heart broke for him, you were slightly relieved that his physical pain was over. However, you knew you had to get him out of there. The psychological torture of hurting others who didn't deserve it would break him completely, and you had to keep him from that somehow. 

Something was unsettling you about all this, though. Despite how unsettling your situation was to begin with, you knew there was something the angels you'd been working with weren't telling you. 

Uriel especially would act as though he wanted your job done as quickly as possible. However, when you explained it was only through "divine intervention, or whatever" that you were finding these vessels, and you had no control over the speed at which you found them, he'd get angry and cold. But he wouldn't press the issue with you. 

The number of vessels he'd assigned you to find was weirding you out, too: seven. You knew seven was a heavily spiritual number through your upbringing in the Catholic Church. However, you couldn't quite put your finger on what was happening. 

Half of you wanted to reach out to Sam and ask him his opinions. Your rational mind knew, though, that he'd never believe what you were saying and would quite possibly never look at you the same again.

That brought on a more troubling thought; when Dean saw what you'd become— a cold, lifeless shell of the girl you once were— what would he say? Would he even want to see you anymore? Would he still be able to love you?

You had to cover the mirrors in your cabin because the sight of yourself was making you sick. If Dean looked at you the way you looked at you, you didn’t think you’d be able to live with yourself.

Aside from disgust, immense anger was the next thing to come to your mind. You were angry at yourself for allowing yourself to become so consumed with Dean’s death. Rationally, you knew you shouldn’t have allowed yourself to fall so hard; to rot from your ever-present anxiety. You knew you should have gone to get help. And you supposed if you were a normal person, you would have. If you’d had a partner who died at a young age, you likely would have cut your losses, gone to therapy, and moved on. However, given the information you knew now— that you could save Dean— you weren’t going to give up on him.

You buried yourself in your work to keep yourself from going insane. As twisted as it was, the repetitive nature of your assignment was almost... peaceful? You were sure that couldn't be the proper way to describe your feelings, but it was the only word you could come up with. 

Perhaps it was that the gruesome work had become mundane. It gave you yet another chance to completely dull the world out until you heard that wonderful "Yes! I'll do it!" from your victim. 

Those words brought you the briefest moment of joy because it meant the horrible deed was over, and you were one step closer to seeing Dean again.

WatchingDean try to swallow his tears and maintain a steely expression while he tortured some poor soul under Alistair's direction became harder and harder every night. If you weren't set on killing Alistair before, you certainly were now. You wished so badly you could reach out to him and hold him. 

Finally, after four long and torturous months, your task was complete. You'd found the last vessel for an angel you hadn't quite committed the name of to memory and prayed to Uriel to come to you.

"There. I did what you asked," you said. "Now, go get Dean." 

****

That night, you sat on the couch in front of the television inhaling a bowl of cereal. You'd frequently turn the news on to see if there was any new information on demonic omens, any trouble Sam had gotten himself into, or sometimes, just the weather.

“Authorities are searching for this woman—” a grainy image of you wearing a wig, a hood, and jeans appeared on screen, and he supposed it’d been caught on CCTV, “—whose identity is unknown, but she has been potentially connected to at least seven murders over the past four months; all of well-respected, family-oriented men across multiple state lines. She is considered to be armed and dangerous, and if you have any information, please call—”

Your bowl and spoon clattered to the floor. "Oh, fuck."

Series Rewrite Taglist: @polireader @brightlilith @atcamillanorrman @jrizzelle @insomnia-bookworm @procrastination20 @mrs-liebgott @djs8891 @tiggytaylor @staple-your-mouth @jesstherebel @rach5ive @strawberrykiwisdogog @bruhidkjustwannaread @mxltifxnd0m @sunshine-on-marz @big-ol-boat @mgchaser @capncrankle @chervbs @simpingdeadcharacters @nesnejwritings @stillhere197 @tearsforhan @take-it-on-the-run @iloveyou2mia @maxinehufflepuffprincess @ohgeehowdigethere @seninjakitey @berarenado @s0urw00lf @princessleahorgana @quarterhorse19 @isla-finke-blog @silverdoragon @karacaroldanvers @gayandfairycore @examishbookwyrm @star-yawnznn @real-sharena-h @fandomloverrr @metalmonki @onlyangel-444 @yu-winchester @benniwiththefanni @daisychaingirl @immagods @missmieux @yoongi-holland @littledebbieinabigworld

[boykingscourt]

If you could have written a completely Sam centric episode (ie one was no/basically no Dean like The End is for Sam) what would the concept be and what season would you have it happen in?

hmm! I've never thought about something like this before (something something deancentric show hasn't shown me this is possible) but now a few ideas are coming to mind:

s1/s2 - something calls sam back to stanford. maybe he thinks it's related to the demon, maybe something is going on with one of his friends like in 1x06, or maybe it's just another job but it would be interesting to see sam exploring the remnants of his old life, seeing some of his professors and old friends (because he's not a wanted criminal yet lmao), and remembering things he used to do with jessica :((( this concept could also work in just about any season if he had reason to go back (with less interaction with the public the more wanted criminal he becomes) and the longer it's been I think the more heartbreaking it would be to watch

s7 - I wanna see what SAM was doing during that week and a half referenced in 7x07 when dean was having a normal one without him. if I were in the writer's room, I would have sam trying to control hallucifer, hallucifer who will not shut up about how badly dean wronged him by killing amy and lying about it. a part of sam knows he's right too but isn't it wrong to agree with lucifer? ig because it's a spn episode he could be doing a solo job during this time, but that's not strictly necessary for me. I loved hallucifer as much as the next person, but I think we could have put him to better use than constantly cracking jokes, and that use could be voicing truths about sam and dean's relationship that sam will not let himself voice under ordinary circumstances

s9 - kinda similar to the above idea but s9 was desperately in need of sam's perspective after gadreel, but as we know the writers had little interest in this because it's not dickriding dean (their favorite activity)

the plot could be sam chasing a gadreel lead during dean's two week long (?) pity party away from the bunker, and maybe cas can tag along for my sastiel enjoyers, but it would still be primarily about sam

but let's spend a day with sam in the immediate aftermath! let's see him wake up from nightmares of killing kevin. let's see him need a long moment to remember all that has transpired recently, to convince himself what's real, having a near panic attack. let's see him constantly assaulted by violent flashbacks and memories he can't quite piece together. and because we're already in a fantasy world where the s9 writers have some sympathy for sam, how about some narrative acknowledgment that even though sam thinks finding gadreel is his responsibility, it's really super not!!

thank you for this ask I'll be considering it for a while 👀

[curiositydoorunlocked]

That post I made about S4 pushing Will’s sadness was one made in jest. It was just a little joke post. I clicked the “post” button, closed the tab in my browser, and moved on with my very serious life. No more jokes for me.

But then something happened; permit me tell you a little story entitled “I spent too much time on YouTube, send help.”

…okay, now I’m done with the jokes 😅

In all seriousness, though: I’ve been watching a lot of ST reactions on YouTube lately and they’ve only served to show me just how effective that “WILL IS SAD! WILL IS SAD!” strategy was.

For real! Of course I haven’t seen all the S4 reaction videos out there, but I’ve watched far too many to reach my weekly screen-time goal, ugh plenty, and the trends were pretty damning. Every single creator I saw said “poor Will!” at least once during their watch. More often than not it was multiple times, actually. They were all rooting for him, feeling for him; they all saw his sadness, put the pieces together re: why he was sad (relatively) quickly, and went “No! Stop! I don’t like that Will is sad!”

This attitude was generally present across the whole season’s worth of reactions, but there are still some interesting takeaways re: what people responded to most that I’d like to share with you all.

First off the cartop talk in the desert seemed to resonate across the board. It wasn’t always included in videos, probably because it was a quieter scene sandwiched in between the gang literally burying a body, but when it was included it usually got a big response. Lots of nods and empathetic comments made at “…because what if…what if they don’t like the truth?” The van scene also hit hard for everyone, and I mean everyone. My personal favorite was this one dude that teared up and said something along the lines of “We’re only ten minutes into this episode, chill out!” while wiping his eyes!

Most of the reactors had a much stronger response to the Mike and Will scenes—and the associated Will sadness moments, of course—than they did the Mike and El scenes. Those elicited more frustration than anything—plenty of “God, why can’t you just say it, Mike??”s. One woman even gasped when Mike threw away the “From, El” note.

People smiled at the few cute moments El and Mike had; they empathized with El’s insecurities; they sighed at Mike’s hamfisted maneuvering.

What they didn’t do? Seem, well… invested. In the relationship. At all.

Even the cooing over Mike and El’s (very sweet) reunion was frequently overshadowed by joy at El and Will’s fraternal hug.

(It’s almost like putting something last telegraphs to the audience that it’s the most important…crazy how that works!)

But to wrap things up before this post gets too long…

I know “the talented creators of this historically well-written show decided to take the story in a particular direction and executed it such that it achieved the desired response from viewers” isn’t exactly a shocking revelation. Even still, it was nice to see, especially considering the following:

Most of these reactors were confident Will’s feelings wouldn’t be returned. The opinions were never phrased cruelly; they were always more along the lines of “it’s so sad that Will is in this situation, poor guy. I wish he could be happy but it doesn’t seem possible.”

In an odd roundabout way, those nervous, “where is this going to go?” vibes are omnipresent on Byler Tumblr too. (Or at least that’s the sense I’ve been getting since I returned from my hiatus—apologies if I’ve terribly mischaracterized you all!) I get that a lot of people are worried about the potential execution of a Mike/Will relationship, especially because the characters involved are so intertwined with the supernatural plot. We may see the writing on the wall re: the destination, but that doesn’t mean we know exactly what the journey will look like.

But guess what? These writers know how to disengage the audience from a couple that isn’t working, and engage it in a dynamic that is. They know how to stir up empathy for characters in different contexts. They know how to bring new information—in this case, Will’s feelings—to light and get people on board ASAP. These reaction videos are very encouraging proof of that—and in case it needs repeating, I watched so many of them, so I should know. (Why? God only knows.)

If these reactors were presented with a solution to this “problem” that would allow Will to get what he wanted without hurting anyone else… well, I’m confident they would jump right on board. And so would we, of course.

So, all of that is to say I encourage you to set the nitty gritty of it all aside every now and then. As a bunch of Youtubers have kindly demonstrated for us: everything’s going to be just fine 🙂

(And if you read this long for what was essentially just a positivity post, I commend you LOL. Thanks for sticking it out with me!)

[junkpuppet225]

Heads up, not a Daryl X Reader (because I like to name my OC’s (although I’m not feeling this one’s name (no offense if it’s your name - it’s a great name just doesn’t flow well with Daryl for me) I can’t think of a better one atm) and I like them blonde. Daryl has a type y’all.) Also major spoilers for the series starting now! This is just something that came to me during my rewatch. (I’ve almost made it to the end again. Man these last few seasons are ROUGH.) If you read it let me know what you think and if I should continue and make it into a full blown fanfic.

Notes: Starts out Season 11 Episode 4. Daryl and Leah reunite but thanks to the wonders of fan fiction I can do whatever I want and he never went back for her in Find Me. Sorry girl, ya just weren’t the one. After Leah finds out about Turner she let’s Lacey go, she finds her way back to Maggie and the story plays out like it did on the show until Episode 9 where Daryl’s trying to get back to Maggie. That’s where I’ll start it back up one day. Lemme know what ya think! 🥰

Summary: Daryl met Lacey the night he came to Hilltop after being Negan’s prisoner and they became friends which quickly turned into something more for both of them. Then Rick “died” and Daryl left. This is how they piece back together what they once had. Enjoy!

xxx

Piece by Piece

Lacey

“Let ‘er go and I’ll tell ya whatever ya wanna hear.” Daryl mutters keeping his eyes cast down as Leah glares at him from the other side of the cell bars. Across the hallway I’m trying to push myself up from the concrete, soaking wet and gasping for air.

I’ve never been water boarded before. Check that one off the bucket list.

“You know her.” Leah says with pain in her voice. “You care about her.”

“I done told you - I ain’t with them. She ain’t either. You’re torturin’ an innocent girl, for nothin’, - that ain’t you.”

“You don’t know anything about me!” Leah snaps and crosses the hall jerking open my unlocked cell door to grab me by my wet hair - forcing my face up to Daryl’s. I close my eyes tightly and will away the tears threatening to fall. “You know him!” She screams as I shake my head no while more water rushes from my drowned lungs. “You’re with the group on the road - both of you! Tell me where they are!”

Call it star-crossed ingenuity or just plain luck but somehow Daryl and I have managed to give this psycho bitch the same story without even speaking to each other. We don’t know each other and we sure as hell don’t know anything about Maggie. Just two assholes with a serious case of wrong place wrong time. My heart is racing in my chest… probably from the water boarding but I like to think it has something to do with how in-tuned Daryl and I are even after all these years.

Leah’s not buying it though and socks me across the jaw to assure everyone in the dimly lit room just that. “Didn’t peg you for a desperate bitch.” Daryl mutters - oozing nonchalance as I spit out a mouthful of blood just to have my captor slug me again. You can stop talking anytime now Dixon.

X

Seeing Daryl for the first time would be a memory etched into my very core until my dying day, blue eyes lingering far to long at the battered and broken man dragging his feet behind Jesus as they push their way into Hilltop’s infirmary. The haunted look in Daryl’s gaze still keeps me lying awake to this day because even after all this time - it’s still there. I don’t catch it as often now - he’s allowed himself to heal over the years - barely, but that first night in Hilltops infirmary as I cleaned him up and dressed his wounds I thought there was nothing left of the man sitting before me.

“Daryl, whatever happened - with Negan? It’s not your fault. I just want you to hear that from someone who wasn’t there. Okay?”

Daryl only grunted his responses for the first four days at Hilltop so we sat in silence and I watched him - the way his body would jerk violently in his sleep, the absolute grief that washed over him at the most random times and the tremble of his hands as he clutched his fingers together to try and will it away.

The first time he spoke to me I knew his was the only voice I would ever long for.

“Don’t need yer sympathy. Don’t deserve it.”

I remember being so surprised by hearing his deep voice that it took me a solid minute to register his words - watching him stare down at the deep groves in the worn wood of the picnic table outside the infirmary. Gregory never came down this far - he’d never burden himself with checking on the sick or injured so this was where Daryl stayed - to keep away from our loud mouthed leader. To be alone with his thoughts.

“Concern and sympathy aren’t the same thing.”

Then he was back to grunting. Eventually time heals wounds…, or at least allows us to learn how to better hide the pain. The first time I heard Daryl laugh? The way his breath hitched in his throat and the smile that spread across his face? That night sealed my fate.

I kissed him because I’d still be waiting for him to make the first move if I hadn’t but when he kissed me back I saw stars. The way his rough hands sank into my hair and his body pressed to mine. The gasps that rushed from my lips while he fucked me into oblivion. Behind closed doors Daryl treated me like I was the absolute center of his world - kissed me like his very life depended on it - he even told me he loved me once, whispered softly against my throat in the darkness.

I would have followed Daryl to hell and back except hell found us and we never left. Rick died and Daryl couldn’t accept it.

“I let two fuckin’ brothers die on MY watch! I can’t…, I can’t fuckin’ sit here and play house with you Lacey. I belong out there.” The grief that clung to his words still haunts me to this day. “Then take me with you.”

The last time I heard Daryl laugh it broke my heart.

“Nah. Girl like you? Don’t belong out there. Ya don’t belong with me.”

I watched with tears in my eyes as he loaded his gear and left Hilltop in search of Rick without even saying goodbye. When he’d ride in from time to time to visit Judith and RJ or to trade with the communities he never spoke to me, never lifted his head in my direction and when Maggie said she was leaving Hilltop a few years later - I went with her.

X

Daryl

“Leah. Listen to me, this ain’t you. She’s just someone they met on the road - same as me. I watched ‘em from the tree line, watched ‘em trade her some food for half her medical supplies. That’s the reason I showed myself to ‘em. I was starving.”

“Why didn’t you just take what they had? I’ve seen you fight a field of walkers!”

I lift my eyes to hers slowly. Whoever Leah was back in that cabin in the woods six years ago is not the woman standing before me today. “‘Cause that ain’t me an’ you know it.” I watch Leah drop Lacey to the ground with a frustrated growl as the smaller woman continues to pull air into her ruined lungs. Seeing her like this - knowing what the fuck they’ve done to her has my insides humming with rage but I can’t blow our cover. She probably hates my guts and she hasn’t blown mine. “Let her go and I’ll do whatever the fuck you want Leah. I’ll go hunt these fuckin’ people down myself.”

“You care about her.”

This is one of the reasons I’ve kept to myself all these years. Fucking women. We all have one mutual enemy in this world - the dead trying to kill us yet I’m sitting here arguing with a fucking psycho ex girlfriend.

“How many times do I gotta tell ya? I don’t fucking know her! All I’ve ever heard her talk about is the kid she lost. Says she buries all the kid walkers she comes across because of it. S’a fuckin’ waste’a time.”

Leah’s eyes go wide and I know I’ve hit my mark.

When I first met Lacey I didn’t even know she was in the room with me until she brushed her fingers through my disgusting hair trying to access the damage to my face as I flinched away from her touch. That first night at Hilltop I kept zoning out, kept getting lost in my fucking head to the point Lacey had to softly remind me to breathe until I finally passed out from exhaustion.

She was the first person I ever met that didn’t try to pry all of my secrets from me at once. She let me sit with my thoughts in silence until I couldn’t take her troubled gaze anymore. It wasn’t sympathy in her pale blue eyes - it was something much worse. Concern. Like she really gave a shit about someone like me.

The first time I spoke to her I wasn’t kind. I didn’t thank her for all the hours she spent physically putting me back together. I told her I didn’t deserve her sympathy - knowing she offered none - but her concern for me made her cross that small trailer when I woke up screaming later that night. I could have really hurt her, could have fucking killed her the way I grabbed her as she placed a small hand on my chest to rouse me from yet another nightmare but her soft voice soothed me out of my terror and she never mentioned the pain I know I caused her.

It took a long time for me to even get back to half the man I was before we met Negan and that’s not saying much cause I was pretty fucking lost way before that but it was months after Negan was locked up in Alexandria that I allowed myself to relax. I wouldn’t even use the word allowed. It’s just something that happened. I was so fucking exhausted from all of it that when I stumbled down the stairs after a hot shower and found Lacey sitting alone at the kitchen table I let her kiss me. The things she let me do to her after that will forever be etched in my brain. Not a day goes by that I don’t miss the feel of her body or the sound of her voice. After Rick died I couldn’t stand the thought of him being out there roaming the world as one of those things. Lacey never asked me to stay - never forced me to choose she just asked to come with me and I broke her heart.

I watched the light dim from her beautiful eyes the day I packed my things and left Hilltop without a word. When I finally saw her again - six years later by Maggie’s side it had yet to return. Lacey was different now too - she was quiet and that look I first saw in her blue eyes, the concern she had for people? That was long gone.

I came back for you. When I didn’t find Rick along the whole fuckin’ coast I knew he wasn’t out there so I came back… to apologize to ya. To tell ya how fuckin’ lost I am without you…. but I guess I’m too late.

Three words is all she’s spoke to me since she showed up with Maggie two weeks ago. No bullshit about burying kids or reassuring words that she forgives me for leaving her. I watched her lift her blue eyes to mine, wisps of blonde hair blowing around her pretty face.

“Yeah, you are.”

X

“Jus’ let her go. I’ll help ya find these people - I swear.”

I watch Leah pace the narrow hallway between our cells, glancing back to Lacey who’s eerily quiet. Anxiety pulls at my heart as I watch her lying lifeless on the cold ground and then Leah kicks her in the stomach, bringing her back to life as a deep groan fills the room.

“What do you know about these people?” She demands, finally stepping away from Lacey to return to my side - prison bars between us. I lift my eyes from Lacey as she wraps her arms around her torso in pain. “I don’t know shit. I’ve never lied to you Leah. Never and I’m not gonna start now.”

Leah sighs in frustration again. “I’d help you if I could - you know I would. Just give me dog and let us go. You’ll never see me again.”

“Is that what you want?” The pain in Leah’s voice lifts Lacey’s head from the ground and our eyes meet for the first time in a long time. “I came back for you, Leah. I looked everywhere for you. I’m sorry you ended up with these people - you belong with me… but her? She’s not like us. She’s weak - just some girl on the road. Let her go and I’ll help ya.”

A thud brings Leah’s attention to the lone door but my eyes stay on Lacey who doesn’t even flinch at the sudden noise. I watch the silent tears run down her pale cheeks. I don’t know if she’ll make it out of here alive. Hell, I don’t even know if I will but I hope she knows I didn’t mean anything I just said. She’s the only person I’ve ever came back for - the only woman I’ve ever loved. Leah has to think she’s some weak heart broken girl who also lost a kid or else she’ll kill her. I just hope one day I get the chance to tell her how much she meant to me.

Some asshole in Leah’s group pushes through the hallway, nodding to the exit.

“What is it?”

“…found Bossie.”

Leah stands quickly with a gasp. “…and Turner?”

The Reaper shakes his head silently telling her he’s dead. I lift my eyes to Leah as she covers her face, grief washing over her as she looks to Lacey’s crumpled form still clinging to the damp floor. “….take her back to the road and leave her. Make sure she gets what she came here with.”

“What about him?”

I watch Leah turn back to me slowly.

“I’ll get what we need out of him.”

X

[badninken]

Hi bad ninken!

I know you've speed ran the episodes, but what's your thoughts on One Piece overall, from the perspective of a Naruto fan?

(Hope our questions aren't bothering you)

Hi!

Not bothered at all! I don't always answer but I'm always happy to receive them <3 This question is a BIG one. I'll write so much.

So, I didn't know exactly what to expect from One Piece when I started watching. It always looked like a goofy and childish pirate show to me. I'm very picky and I knew it was insanely long so just casually giving it a try never occurred to me, until Law.

Now, Naruto could be said to be a goofy and childish ninja show so it's not like I was up on some high horse, thinking One Piece was lesser than. Nothing is that popular for no reason. I could at least give the first episode a go. It would feel like cheating if I didn't even try to watch it from the start and get to know the main character before rushing to find my character.

The lead characters:

So I watched the first episode and I liked it! Or, I liked Luffy. I liked him a lot. Instantly captivated by his crazy eyes, crazier smile, unique voice and his message of "do whatever makes you happy and screw the people who try to stop you"

Now, I like Naruto (the boy) too. He's incredibly cute and charming, he also has a voice I love and he brings lots of fun, motivational energy that can be really inspiring. I've never been interested in seeing him fulfil his dream though, because I genuinely think it's a bad one.

Their goals:

The lead characters are the foundations of these two stories. I expected Luffy to be very similar Naruto. There are a lot of parallels. Like the adhd, eating habits, huge potential, but most importantly in their dreams/goals. They both want to be the king/hokage and gather + protect friends on the way. They both have their goals clearly spelled out and repeated often.

Luffy's "I am me. I'm going to get crewmates, find the treasure and become king of the pirates."

and Naruto's "I'm going to become the strongest ninja and become Hokage so people will acknowledge me."

Naruto wants strength and power to be seen, loved and to make positive changes in the shinobi system, and to protect everyone. Luffy wants to liberate everyone so they can be happy and free and eat lots of food. "I just want to be king of the pirates, not anyone important"

These goals set the premise for their respective stories and I can say, without a doubt, that I think One Piece is the better story outline. It's honestly been so refreshing to not have the plot dominated by the main character's personal quest for physical and political power, because that aspect of Naruto (the show and the boy) has always weirded me out.

Overall experience:

With that said, I found Naruto (the story) to be a tighter, much more focused experience than One Piece, and it's not just the number of episodes. The cast of characters in Naruto grows at a pace that's easy to follow and while they don't all get the time or space they deserve, they all serve a purpose. The scope of the plot starts out small and grows steadily. There are a few plot threads running parallell to each other until they get woven together into one huge event at the end. It's big but it's contained.

One Piece, on the other hand, is a fucking hydra of a story.

One thing leads to another which leads to two others which leads to four and you get the picture. Eventually you reach a point where ten, twenty, thirty separate narratives, each with their own sprawling cast of characters, compete for attention at the same time. It's exhausting. It's confusing and often, in my tunnelvision case, infuriating.

I can not care about that many things at once and characters that I probably would have liked end up annoying me because they steal time away from the parts of the story I'm interested in. I was extra impatient since I was speedrunning it all, fueled mostly by hyperfixation on one guy. Even if my attention was more evenly divided across more characters it's still way too much. I totally respect the artist's right to invent new characters to make work more fun after working on a series for that long, but, man... I can't take a new kingdom with a squeaky-voiced boob princess and 60 new named bad guys who take forever to beat while flashbacks have more flashbacks within them to explain lore I don't give a fuck about.

Ok I might still be a bit agitated.

About the boobs:

So, I haven't talked very much about the sexism while doing this speedrun. The cishet male centered fan service and the blatant misogyny in general, and I don't even want to touch the Sanji part of the timeskip period. I have thought about it though, because it is impossible to miss. It's everywhere and it's in your face and it will not miss a single opportunity to disrupt a scene. It's baked into everything. One Piece is at times fucking disgusting to watch. It was only made worse by reading some of the Q&A pages of the manga, because some of that bullshit got etched into my brain and tainted the viewing experience. The thing is that shonen manga/anime to me feels like having my favorite food while trying to ignore that half the plate is rotten. I do my best to ignore that part, because I can't get this dish anywhere else and I'm fucking hungry.

I am sick and tired and pissed off about it, and I can't pretend it's not there but I refuse to let it poison the entire experience for me. I will separate the good parts from the rotten ones, that's just how this goes, for One Piece and Naruto both.

The sexism in One Piece is extremely blatant and obvious. It's visual in a way that it just isn't in Naruto. The female characters in Naruto aren't framed boobs-first or put in lewd outfits and positions every time they're featured. The female characters in Naruto don't get half the character development or narrative importance though, and that is worse, in my opinion, than a tiny metal bikini. Only marginally, but still.

I'm going to be a bit brutal here, but there are so many insignificant female side characters in One Piece that get twice as much background story as Sakura, one of the lead characters of Naruto. That is insane. Real stories too, and real motivations that don't have anything to do with them being women or in love. They're fighting for their villages and countries and themselves, not because they need male validation. My behated Rebecca, tiny-metal-bikini squeaky pink haired princess at least had a goal in life that mattered on a big scale. Sure her boobs jiggled ridiculously in the wind and she started crying annoyingly every time that counted (don't volunteer to deliver a dude's handcuff keys if you're gonna stand in a field and weep while he has to be carried to you) and I hated every moment I had to watch her story BUT SHE HAD A STORY.

Fuck. I'm angry. Sorry I've had this pent up for a while.

The conclusion to this is that Kishimoto's complete lack of interest in his own female characters pisses me off worse than Oda's way of being a loudly outspoken perv but it's pretty much a tie here. Both of their works are half rotten and no series like this will get my full respect until they dare have a woman beat a man in a fight with the same power that is afforded the men. WITHOUT making a big deal out of her being a woman in the process. Will never happen but one can wish.

Fight satisfaction:

I put up with all that stuff because few things hype up my brain with dopamine and endorphins the way a cathartic shonen fight moment does. I mean the cycles of building power, struggling to reach full potential and the inevitable defeat against the big bad before the emotional and desperate moment where it all turns and then BAM! New power unlocked. Victory. Release. It's like sex. It's much better than sex. I'm ace so most things are, but the formula is the same.

It's been so long since I watched original Naruto, but I remember the impact those moments had on me then. Rock Lee's weights and Naruto vs. Sasuke that moment Naruto goes crazy fox mode and just RAWGRH, you know the one. Kakashi vs Hidan and Kakazu gave me some of that. Kakashi vs Obito doesn't follow that exact formula but the emotions and animation and THEM all makes it the best fight experience everrr. Kid Kakashi's first short sharingan fight belongs in there too. The fight satisfaction of Naruto is very, very high.

It's really high in One piece too, and because of how long it is, there are more moments. Luffy, Zoro, Law and Kid all had several moments that made me stand up and roar like a football fan or flail around while silently screaming at the screen. I get charged with power when my favorite characters do really cool shit and I've been super charged for weeks.

One Piece wins in power but Naruto wins in emotion, so it's a tie. It's hard to compare because of how fresh the One Piece experience is. Also because Kakashi's emotional fight moments are so, so emotional and Law's power moments are so HOLY FUCK HE CAN DO THAT?

Conclusion:

I need to go make dinner now, wow.