#it's a shame because season 1 through 3 were very good

[valeisaslut]

⭒࿐COLLIDE - c. three

credits for the fanart: nramvv - edited by me

𝐂𝐇𝐀𝐏𝐓𝐄𝐑 𝐓𝐇𝐑𝐄𝐄

𝐋𝐎𝐎𝐊 𝐋𝐈𝐊𝐄 𝐖𝐄 𝐈𝐍 𝐋𝐎𝐕𝐄,

𝐁𝐔𝐓 𝐎𝐍𝐋𝐘 𝐎𝐍 𝐂𝐀𝐌𝐄𝐑𝐀.

← 𝑐𝘩𝑎𝑝𝑡𝑒𝑟 𝑡𝑤𝑜 | 𝑚𝑎𝑠𝑡𝑒𝑟𝑙𝑖𝑠𝑡 | 𝑐𝘩𝑎𝑝𝑡𝑒𝑟 𝑓𝑜𝑢𝑟 →

⚢ pairing: Rockstar!Ellie Williams x Popstar!Reader 𖥔 ݁ ˖

⭒ synopsis: A single Instagram story accidentally hard-launches something that isn’t even real. Or at least, isn’t supposed to be. A fake date at an overpriced restaurant turns into a game of push and pull, stolen glances, and tension so thick it’s impossible to ignore. You tell yourself it’s nothing, but at 3 AM, you’re alone in the studio, writing lyrics you shouldn’t be writing, thinking about her in ways you shouldn’t be thinking. And then Ellie texts. And suddenly, the lines you’ve been so desperate to keep blurred don’t seem so thin. 𖥔 ݁ ˖

⭒ word count: 7,5k 𖥔 ݁ ˖

⭒ content: smut, top!ellie, sub!reader, fingering (r!receiving), praise, tit play, begging, edging, being recorded, pet names, fake dating, LOTS of cursing, use of y/n, modern au, mention of cigarettes, alcohol and drugs, afab!reader, multiple part series, MEN AND MINORS DNI, likes and reblogs are deeply appreciated 𖥔 ݁ ˖

TMZ EXCLUSIVE: Y/N AND ELLIE WILLIAMS HARD-LAUNCH—AND THE INTERNET IS IN SHAMBLES! 🔥🚨

Los Angeles, CA – Buckle up, besties. If you thought Y/N’s infamous walk of shame was the peak of her chaotic love life—oh, sweet summer child, think again. 👀

Because last night? She didn’t just confirm her situationship with Ellie Williams.

Oh, no.

She hard-launched it with the subtlety of a car crash. A 50-car pileup on the freeway of gay panic.

And it was GLORIOUS.

HERE’S HOW IT WENT DOWN:

At exactly 3:17 AM (because of course, the chaos begins at that hour), our favorite pop star dropped the bomb on Instagram in the most unhinged, beautiful way possible. 

The post? Ellie Williams, peak domestic chaos, sprawled on y/n’s couch like she just got evicted from a frat house. Hair a mess, tattoos flexing, wearing nothing but a tank top and sweats, scrolling through her phone like she’s too cool to care. And the coup de grâce? In front of her—a post-Taco Bell battlefield so disastrous it could get them both banned from the establishment for life.

But the caption? Oh, the caption sealed the deal:

“she eats like a mf frat boy but somehow still looks hot. life is unfair.”

And as if the chaos wasn’t already unhinged enough—oh yeah, they were absolutely high. Very high. The kind of high that makes you think posting your girlfriend looking like a hot human raccoon on the couch is a brilliant PR move. 👀🍃

And you know what?

She was right.

THE INTERNET MELTDOWN, A PLAY-BY-PLAY:

Within seconds—literally, SECONDS—Twitter went into full-blown DEFCON 1 over the fact that two of the most famous musicians on the planet had just hard-launched their situationship like it was a surprise album drop.

Hashtags?

🔹 #YNandEllie → #1 worldwide 🔹 #HardLaunchOfTheCentury → A cultural reset 🔹 #TacoBellSponsorshipWHEN → Officially liked by Taco Bell

Fan reactions? 

📌 Gay Twitter? Collapsed.

📌 Stan accounts? Frothing at the mouth.

📌 The straights? Confused, scared, and overwhelmed.

Meme accounts went feral. In less than ten minutes, there were already:

☑️ Fan edits set to indie love songs ☑️ AI-generated wedding invitations ☑️ A Change.org petition for them to adopt a dog or a cat together. ☑️ The Wikipedia page for “lesbianism” updated with the post

Even Netflix got involved:

“This has more plot than anything we released this year.”

Meanwhile, Taco Bell issued a statement:

“Ellie & y/n—free Crunchwraps for life if you let us cater the wedding.”

BUT WAIT— WHAT ABOUT THE WALK OF SHAME?

Let’s rewind. Less than 24 hours before this nuclear-level hard launch, y/n was caught leaving The Four Seasons at sunrise, looking like she had just gone three rounds with fate itself.

And whose hotel was it? Oh, you already know— Ellie Williams’.

And now, here we are. Less than a day later, and these two have skipped the “we’re just friends” gaslighting phase entirely. No damage control. No frantic PR statements. Just pure, unfiltered chaos.💥

We have never seen a sneaky link accept its fate this fast.

SO, WHAT HAPPENS NOW?

Absolute radio silence from both of them. Ellie’s only move? Liking a tweet that said:

“The stages of sneaky links: 1) Deny. 2) Get caught. 3) Accept your fate.”

Meanwhile, y/n—aka the woman who just revealed to the entire world that she is down horrendously bad for her formerly alleged situationship-sneaky link-wife-girlfriend?— Probably just vibing with the chaos she just caused.

One thing’s for sure: this isn’t just a fling anymore.

Stay tuned. 😏🔥

🔗RELATED: TMZ EXCLUSIVE: Y/N’S MYSTERIOUS WALK OF SHAME… STRAIGHT OUT OF ELLIE WILLIAMS’ HOTEL? 👀🔥

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❤️ 15M — 💬 525,76k

The thing about PR nightmares is that they don’t wait for you to wake up, brush your teeth, and ease into your morning with a cup of coffee and the false hope that today will be a quiet one. 

No. They come in swinging into your life like a wrecking ball, uninvited and merciless, dragging you out of your peaceful oblivion straight into a digital inferno.

By the time you fully grasp the severity of the situation, both of your faces are everywhere. The internet has already devoured every single detail and spat it back out in the form of conspiracy theories and enough memes to fuel an entire generation’s humor.

Twitter is a minefield of hot takes. Instagram is worse—a visual onslaught of dissected moments, captions teetering between adoration and sheer lunacy.

The gossip pages have lost all chill—headlines range from mildly invasive ("Is This The Couple of the Year?"),  to outright deranged ("Leaked Timeline of y/n and Ellie Williams’s Secret Romance—Are They ALREADY Engaged?!").

And then there are the memes.

Oh, God, the memes. You want to be mad, you really do—but some of them? Undeniably hilarious. The internet, when motivated, can be disturbingly creative. You’d probably laugh your ass off if your life wasn’t currently being sacrificed at the altar of social media hysteria.

You don’t even realize you’ve been doom-scrolling until Ellie’s voice slices through the thick silence of your apartment.

“You look like you’re watching your own funeral.”

You jolt so fast your phone nearly goes flying out of your hands. Spinning around, you find her standing in your kitchen, barefoot, sleep-mussed, and nursing a cup of coffee like she hasn’t just casually walked into the eye of a social media hurricane. The mug in her hands—the one she picked out of your weird mug collection—boldly declares: “Lesbians Fear Me, Bisexuals Love Me, Straight People Think I’m Just Going Through a Phase.”

Goddamn it, that’s one of your favorites.

You groan and collapse face-first onto the couch, voice muffled into the cushions. “Ellie, we are so fucked.”

She snorts, padding over with the kind of calm that only someone who thrives in chaos can pull off. “Nah. We just need to, y’know… do something before Rachel bursts into flames.”

Oh, right. Rachel.

Your manager has texted you no fewer than a hundred times since sunrise. The last message, sent precisely at 6:12 AM, had been chilling in its simplicity:

Rachel: Fix this.

Easier said than done.

You exhale sharply, rolling onto your back, phone clutched to your chest like it might explode. “This is a disaster.”

Ellie, looking entirely unbothered by the world-ending-level of public meltdown currently unfolding, plops onto the couch beside you. She stretches out, propping her feet on the coffee table—your coffee table, in your apartment.

“Look,” she says, reaching over to steal a cold fry from last night’s half-eaten takeout “we only have one option: owning the narrative.”

You press your hands over your face, groaning.

The problem is, she isn’t wrong. If you lean into it—carefully, tactfully—you might actually steer the storm instead of getting swallowed by it.

Ellie, still lounging like this is all some elaborate joke for her own amusement, nudges you with her foot. “We should make a post.”

You blink at her. “Like… an official statement?”

She shrugs. “Yeah. Something like that. Vague, casual. Let people read into it however they want.”

Your stomach twists. The internet already thinks it knows what’s happening—does it really matter what you say at this point?

“And if it backfires?”

Ellie chews thoughtfully. Swallows. Shrugs again. “Then we fake-break up in, like, two months and traumatize the entire internet.”

You snort despite yourself, the first crack in your anxiety. “Jesus Christ.”

She grins, eyes glinting. “That’s the spirit.”

“Fine” you mutter. “Let’s write the damn thing.”

With a sigh, you sit up and pull up Instagram. Ellie shifts closer, propping her chin on your shoulder, watching as your fingers hover uncertainly over the keyboard. The warmth of her breath against your skin is distracting.

Ellie reaches over, steals another fry—practically from your lap this time. “Make sure you put something about Taco Bell sponsoring us. I spent more than a hundred bucks last night.”

You roll your eyes but start typing.

OFFICIAL STATEMENT March 10, 2025 Regarding Recent Speculation So, yeah. We’re together. Hope that clears things up. What started as an unexpected friendship has grown into something we both value deeply. While this wasn’t exactly how we planned to share our relationship with the world, we appreciate the love and support from those who have been kind and respectful. As for the rest, go touch some grass. Please. At the end of the day, we’re just two people trying to live our lives, except with a few more cameras in our faces and significantly less chill.  From here on out, we’d like to keep the focus on what actually matters to us: music, minding our own business, and continuing to order unreasonable amounts of (pls sponsor us) Taco Bell. Much love,

y/n & Ellie🤍

The second you hit ‘Post’ on the Instagram story, your phone practically detonates.

Notifications flood in like a tsunami, buzzing so aggressively it might just explode in your hand. Your screen lights up in a relentless cascade of likes, retweets, and absolute chaos. Tweets skyrocket in real-time. Comments pour in at an overwhelming speed. Chaotic posts multiply by the second, some so unhinged you can’t even begin to process them. Already wildly inaccurate headlines spread like wildfire.

Ellie, still beside you, scrolls lazily through them, smirking. “They’re losing their minds.”

You groan, dropping your phone onto the couch and pressing your palms into your eyes. “This is so unhinged.”

Ellie tilts her head at you, the picture of nonchalance. “Eh. Could’ve been worse.”

You peek at her warily. “How?”

Her grin is pure mischief, eyes glinting with the kind of chaos that should come with a warning label.

“We could’ve gone live.”

You roll your eyes and smack her with a pillow.

Ellie was half-draped over her couch, the cigarette dangling from her lips two seconds from ashing onto her hoodie. She was strumming the most butchered, off-key version of Stairway to Heaven the world had ever suffered through—on purpose, because it was funnier that way.

Her phone buzzed against her stomach. She groaned, rolling her eyes so hard she nearly saw last week, took one last drag from her cigarette before grinding it out in an old mug, and checked the caller ID.

Rachel.

Ellie groaned harder, the sound escalating into something inhuman as she debated the pros and cons of throwing her phone across the room. Ultimately, she answered, pressing the speaker button because lifting her arm was simply too much work.

“How the fuck did you both get my number—”

“Tomorrow night. Eight o’clock. You and y/n. Dinner. Pick her up. Fancy but not too fancy. Cozy but not too cozy. Like honeymoon phase but still fresh. Got it?”

She bulldozed through her sentence like a freight train on a tight schedule, and Ellie hadn’t even had time to think before it was over. She let her head thunk against the back of the couch, guitar sliding off her lap with a lazy thud.

“Rachel.”

“Ellie.”

“I hate you.”

“No, you don’t. And even if you did, you’d still be going to dinner with her tomorrow because you both decided to play pretend lovers of the century for the internet three days ago, and now, surprise! You have to commit.”

Ellie groaned dramatically, flicking her lighter open and shut. “Well, at least I’ll get a free meal out of it.”

“You’re paying.”

Ellie sat up so fast she nearly rolled off the couch. “Excuse me?”

Rachel hung up.

Across town, you were lying flat on your bed, staring at the ceiling, contemplating whether or not it was worth the effort to grab the water bottle sitting a mere three feet away. You had accepted that dehydration might just be your fate when your phone rang. You blindly reached for it, barely checking the caller ID before answering.

“No.”

“Yes,” Rachel said, unphased. “Dinner. You and Ellie. Tomorrow night. Be charming. Look in love. Don’t do that thing where you act like you physically cannot be perceived while eating in public.”

You blinked. “Why would I do that? Why would I ever do that?”

“You did it last time.”

“That was different. That was 2 AM takeout.”

“Regardless,” Rachel pressed on, clearly unimpressed with your excuses, “wear something nice. Order a fancy wine. And the paparazzi will be there, so make it look good.”

You exhaled sharply, already regretting being alive. “How good are we talking?”

She hummed, like she was debating how much pain to inflict. “Comfortable. Playful. A couple of lingering touches, a cute moment or two. Laugh at her jokes like she’s the funniest person you’ve ever met.”

“She’s not that funny.”

“Then pretend.”

You scoffed, throwing an arm over your eyes. “Anything else, director?”

“Yes. And please, for the love of God, don’t give the paps the middle finger this time.”

You sat up, deeply offended. “That was one time.”

“It was three times.”

“Okay, but in my defense, they deserved it.”

Rachel wasn’t amused. “Tomorrow. Eight. Don’t be late.”

And then she hung up, leaving you staring at your phone, deeply unprepared for the fact that you now had a very official date. With Ellie.

You groaned, flopping back onto your bed with all the enthusiasm of a medieval poet dying from heartbreak.

“Well…” you muttered to yourself. “A date is a date.”

The restaurant was the kind of place where secrets were whispered over candlelight, and fortunes changed hands beneath the weight of silk napkins. Dim lighting pooled in golden circles beneath chandeliers, casting flickering shadows against dark wood paneling. It was designed for intimacy—hushed conversations, stolen glances, the illusion that the outside world didn’t exist.

But tonight, that illusion was paper-thin.

The moment you stepped inside, you felt it. The shift in the air. The subtle tightening of shoulders at nearby tables. A murmur of recognition stirred beneath the soft clinking of glasses, and just past the curve of the bar, someone’s phone tilted, camera lens catching both of your faces.

Ellie noticed it too. Her fingers brushed the small of your back—light, steady, deliberate. Not quite possessive, but close. Just enough to send a message, though whether it was for you or the watchful eyes around you, you weren’t sure.

“Looks like they already caught on,” she muttered, her breath warm against your ear.

You didn’t turn, just reached for the menu as you slid into the booth. “Let them watch.”

Ellie smirked, leaning back into the seat across from you. The leather creaked under her weight. She stretched, lazy and unbothered, but her gaze never left yours.

“So...” she said, voice edged with amusement. “First official date.”

You snorted, flipping the menu open as a distraction. “Yeah. Fake dating my one-night stand. Super fun. SUPER normal.”

Ellie huffed out a quiet laugh. “Hey, you’re the one who wanted to lean in to the chaos.”

You glanced up at her, lips twitching. “Yeah, well. Maybe I didn’t think it through.” 

Ellie smirked, setting her glass down. “That makes two of us”

The waiter appeared before you could argue, cutting through the tension like a knife. Orders were placed. The conversation settled into something almost comfortable—almost. Beneath it, a charge still hummed, too close to be ignored.

You hated how good she looked.

The loose black button-up, sleeves rolled to reveal the intricate ink winding around her forearms. The way the candlelight flickered against her silver rings as she toyed with the rim of her whiskey glass. She looked effortless, unfairly so, like she wasn’t aware of the effect she had on people. The effect she had on you.

She caught you staring.

“What?” Ellie’s lips curled slightly, eyes flicking over your face.

You shook your head, feigning indifference. “Nothing.”

Ellie didn’t buy it. She leaned in, elbows resting on the table, voice dropping into something lower, smoother. “You sure about that?”

You exhaled. “Just wondering how long it’ll take before someone posts a blurry picture of us with a dramatic caption.”

Ellie tilted her head, thinking. “Probably already happened.”

She wasn’t wrong. Your phone, face-down on the table, had been buzzing intermittently all night. And yet, for once, you had no urge to check it. No urge to confirm what you already knew—that the world was watching, dissecting every look, every movement, every stray touch.

But for a fleeting second, you let yourself forget.

The laughter and conversation had faded, leaving behind something heavier—something unspoken. Ellie was watching you again, fingers drumming a lazy rhythm against the table.

You exhaled through your nose, swirling the wine in your glass before taking a sip. “You’re staring.”

Ellie didn’t flinch. Didn’t even pretend to look away. If anything, the weight of her gaze intensified, dragging over your face, your lips, the way your fingers curled around the stem of your glass.

“Can’t help it,” she murmured, voice low, rough at the edges. “You’re really selling this whole madly-in-love-with-me thing.”

The words sent a sharp jolt through you—annoyance, something hotter, something dangerous. You set your glass down with a quiet clink, leveling her with a look.

“You’re insufferable.”

Ellie leaned in, elbows resting on the table, her smirk deepening. Her voice dropped just enough to make your pulse stutter.

“And yet,” she drawled, “here you are, madly in love with me.”

It was infuriating—the cocky glint in her eyes, the way she was too close and somehow still not close enough.

You wanted to shove her away. You wanted to yank her closer.

Instead, you inhaled, slow and measured, smoothing the irritation from your face. You reached across the table, your fingers sliding over hers—warm, steady, deliberate. Your touch lingered, just enough to watch her expression shift.

Ellie’s smirk faltered. Just for a second.

Good.

You leaned in, voice sweet, syrupy, laced with something lethal.

“Of course, baby,” you cooed, lacing your fingers through hers. “You’re the love of my life.”

Ellie stilled. Her eyes flickered—just briefly, just enough. Then, just as quickly, she recovered, her thumb grazing over your knuckles.

Her smirk curled back into place, but now? Now, you could tell it wasn’t quite as easy as before.

“Damn right” she murmured.

It was nothing. A move for the cameras. A game you’d both agreed to play.

So why did it feel like something was shifting?

Outside, cameras flashed.

Inside, the world felt smaller, quieter, like the space between you had its own gravity.

Ellie never posted much.

Not about herself. Not about anyone. But tonight? Tonight was different.

The Instagram story went up without warning. No buildup, no context, just a single photo.

You, mid-laugh, wine glass in hand, bathed in candlelight. The kind of effortless, unguarded moment that made it impossible to look away. Shadows curled along your cheekbones, the soft glow making you look almost unreal, like something out of a dream.

No tags. No emojis. No overcomplicated caption. Just four quiet, devastating words:

"yeah, i'm done for."

A confession disguised as nothing. A moment so simple, so fleeting—yet it hit like a seismic shift.

The internet, once again, was in shambles.

The studio smelled like stale coffee and old vinyl, the air thick with the kind of silence that only existed at this hour. It was late—too late. The kind of late that blurred the edges of logic, where exhaustion made everything feel heavier, where thoughts you’d spent all day avoiding started creeping back in.

You hadn’t meant to be here. Hadn’t meant to sit in this chair, pen in hand, staring at the blank page in your notebook like it held the answer to a question you weren’t ready to ask.

But here you were.

Another night. Another week. 

Another failed attempt to convince yourself that this wasn’t a problem.

The guitar rested against your thigh, its weight grounding, familiar, a piece of you as much as the heartbeat in your chest. But every chord you strummed felt wrong. Off. Like the melody was trying to tell you something you weren’t ready to hear.

You sighed, dragging a hand down your face before picking up the pen. The words came before you could stop them.

It’s 3 AM and the moon looks different Or maybe it’s just my state of mind Tried to leave you somewhere distant But you keep slipping between the lines

You stared at them, heart pounding harder than it should have been.

I shouldn’t be thinking about you

You hesitated, then scratched it out. The fuck was that?

Outside, the city pulsed—neon signs flickering, distant laughter spilling from bars, car horns and sirens blending into the night like white noise. The world kept moving, unaware. Unbothered.

Unlike you.

Because inside this room, in this quiet that felt too sharp, it was just you and the ghost of someone who wasn’t even here.

She was probably asleep right now, tangled in sheets that smelled like her and not like you. Peaceful, unbothered, unaware of the fact that you were wide awake in a room that suddenly felt too small. That you were trying, and failing, to put whatever the hell you were feeling about her into words.

You exhaled sharply, leaning back in your chair.

This is stupid.

And yet—

Your fingers twitched, your grip tightening around the pen, and before you could stop yourself, you wrote.

You leave fingerprints on my skin Like I was meant to be touched by you Like you knew me in a past life And kept coming back just to haunt me

The words sat there, and suddenly they weren't just lyrics anymore.

It was her.

The way she looked at you—too intense, like she saw through every excuse, every careful lie you told yourself.

The way her voice settled in your bones, low and lazy, curling around the edges of your thoughts when you least expected it.

The way she touched you—casual, careless, like she didn’t even realize she was leaving pieces of herself behind. But at the same time, she was taking parts of you too, until you weren’t sure where she ended and you began.

And you hated it.

Hated that no matter how many songs you wrote or how many sleepless nights you spent thinking about her, she still lingered in every corner of your mind. Hated that no matter how many times you tried to convince yourself this was fake—just a fleeting thought, just a name, just a PR stunt—it never felt fake. And even now, even here, your fingers betrayed you against the chords of your guitar, tracing a slow, aching melody.

Something soft and low.

Something that sounded too much like her.

You let the song take shape, let it spill out in half-finished lyrics and messy scribbles, in chords that felt like confessions you’d never say to her face.

And when the song finally ended, it wasn’t careful.

It wasn't filtered through logic or reason or the rules you were supposed to be following.

It was just the truth.

The sharp vibration of your phone against the wooden table nearly made you jump. The sound cut through the quiet hum of the studio, through the half-finished melody still hanging in the air.

You stared at the screen, pulse quickening before your brain could catch up.

Ellie.

Her name glowed against the dim light, as if you had summoned her with thought. An interruption, a warning—an inevitability.

You hesitated, fingers twitching against the notebook, the unfinished lyrics glaring up at you like they knew something you didn’t. Like they were daring you to answer.

A part of you wanted to ignore it. To pretend you hadn’t seen it.

But your resolve had never been strong when it came to her.

Your thumb hovered before unlocking the screen. The message sat there, simple, unreadable.

Ellie: you up?

You exhaled slowly, rubbing at your tired eyes. Of course, she knew. Knew you couldn’t sleep. Knew exactly how your mind worked, how it never let you rest.

Another vibration.

Ellie: don’t lie

A small, bitter smile tugged at your lips. It wasn’t a question. She already knew the answer.

You tapped the keyboard, typed, erased, typed again.

You: why?

The ellipsis appeared immediately. Then, a pause. A hesitation.

Ellie: idk

Ellie: just thinking

Your stomach twisted. That was the thing about Ellie—she never said too much. Just enough to get inside your head. Just enough to make you wonder.

Ellie: can’t sleep

You should’ve said something simple. Something easy, something that didn’t open doors you weren’t ready to walk through.

But this was Ellie.

And maybe you were tired of pretending.

You: me neither

The words felt like an admission, but it still wasn’t enough. Something about the silence between texts, the space where she was waiting for more, made your fingers tighten around your phone.

The air in the studio felt heavier now, thick with the quiet things you weren’t saying. The song in your notebook was unfinished, just like this—whatever the fuck this was.

You stared at the screen, heart knocking against your ribs.

Fuck it.

Before you could overthink it, before you could talk yourself out of it—

You: come over

A pause. Too long, too quiet. You held your breath.

Then, finally—

Ellie: omw

The knock on the studio door nearly sent you out of your chair.

3:47 a.m.

Another knock—sharper this time, more impatient.

You exhaled, pressing your palms against the desk before pushing yourself up. You rolled the tension from your shoulders, stepping over half-crumpled lyric sheets.

Ellie stood in the doorway, hoodie half-zipped, hands buried in her pockets, wearing that kind of expression that made your stomach clench.

“Wow” she drawled, leaning against the doorframe like she had all the time in the world. “You look like shit.”

You exhaled sharply, already regretting responding to that fucking text. “Nice to see you too, Ellie.”

“Always a pleasure, sweetheart” she shot back, smirk widening. “You gonna let me in, or should I start serenading you from the hallway? ‘Cause I will. And it’ll be bad.”

Rolling your eyes, you stepped aside. “It already is.”

Ellie snorted as she walked in, the scent of her—faint cologne, cigarettes, something familiar—stirring something restless in your chest. She wandered over to your desk, eyes sweeping over the chaos of half-filled notebooks, your laptop, empty coffee cups, and a sad little pile of crumpled snack wrappers.

“Jesus” she muttered, toeing at a discarded water bottle. “You been here all night?”

You ran a hand over your face. “Yeah. Some of us actually have to work.”

Ellie scoffed, dropping into the chair across from you, arms slung over the backrest. “Some of us are also working. I’ve got an album to finish, remember?”

You huffed out a tired laugh, rubbing your eyes. “Oh, so you came here to, what, steal my ideas?”

Ellie smirked. “Maybe.”

“Now” she continued, tapping her fingers against the edge of your notebook, “do me a favor and tell me if this song sucks before I embarrass myself.”

You blinked. “Wait—you’re actually asking for my opinion?”

Ellie placed a dramatic hand over her heart. “I know. Huge deal.”

You rolled your eyes. “Alright, let’s hear it.”

Ellie grinned, pulling out her phone, scrolling through her files. A moment later, a raw, unfinished melody drifted through the studio speakers—soft guitar, steady beat, her voice coming in a little rough but unmistakably hers.

You leaned back, listening. It wasn’t what you expected. It was slower, almost hesitant, the kind of song that didn’t just sit in your chest—it settled there, heavy, like it wasn’t planning on leaving anytime soon.

When it faded out, Ellie glanced at you, fingers drumming idly against the desk. “Well?”

You exhaled, rolling your bottom lip between your teeth. “It’s… different.”

Ellie huffed a laugh. “Wow. Incredible feedback. Thank you so much.”

You shot her a look. “No, I mean—it’s great. But it’s you in a way your other stuff isn’t. Feels more…” You searched for the word, something that wouldn’t make this moment feel like a confession.

“Personal?” Ellie offered, raising an eyebrow.

You nodded. “Yeah. Personal. Like you actually mean it.”

Ellie clicked her tongue, leaning back in the chair, stretching her arms above her head. “Great. Can’t wait for the internet to rip me apart for being emotional.”

You snorted. “Oh, please. Sad Ellie is about to be everyone’s favorite genre.”

Ellie groaned, tilting her head back. “God. Kill me now.”

You grinned. “Nah, you gotta live long enough to suffer through your own album rollout.”

Ellie shook her head, but the corner of her mouth twitched. Then, her gaze flicked back to you. Sharper now. Intentional.

“So” she said, nodding towards your notebook. “What about you?”

Your pulse kicked up. “What about me?”

Ellie tapped a finger against your laptop. “You working on anything good, or just staring at the screen and contemplating your entire existence?”

You hesitated.

The ghost of the melody still lingered on your fingertips, the kind of song that would give too much away. You could still feel it under your skin—like the ink hadn’t dried yet.

Ellie was still watching you. Waiting.

You exhaled, pressing your palm against the notebook, shutting it.

“Nothing finished.”

She narrowed her eyes, studying you. “That was a suspiciously vague answer.”

“And yet, I’m not elaborating.”

Ellie's eyes flicked to the notebook under your hand. “Must be something good if you’re guarding it like the nuclear codes.”

You exhaled, pressing your palm a little firmer over the cover. “It’s just not finished.”

Her gaze lingered for a beat, unreadable, before she leaned back.

"Fine. Keep your secrets." But her smirk remained, teasing, knowing. “I’ll just wait for the album, then.”

The silence stretched, thick and charged, pressing against the walls of the dimly lit studio. The only sounds were the distant hum of the city outside and the slow, steady breaths neither of you seemed willing to break.

Then Ellie moved.

She stood with a lazy stretch, her hoodie riding up just enough to expose a sliver of skin. It was an afterthought, a fleeting moment—except that it wasn’t. Not to you.

You noticed everything. The shift of her muscles. The way her fingers flexed at her sides, like she was resisting the urge to touch. The flicker of something unreadable in her eyes when she caught you staring.

"Y’know" she murmured, voice dipping low, rich with something that sent a slow, simmering heat curling in your stomach. "This studio’s got some nice acoustics."

Your heart stuttered. "What do you mean?"

Ellie’s smirk spread wider, slow and confident—full of something dangerously playful. “What do I mean?” she repeated, stepping closer. "I mean… it’d be a damn shame not to test ‘em out."

Your breath caught before you could stop it.

“Ellie...” you warned, the sound barely a whisper.

Her gaze flickered, something sharp and amused dancing behind her eyes. “That’s my name” she said, her voice turning husky, deliberately dragging out the words as she tilted her head, clearly savoring the tension she was building.

“Try not to wear it out, yeah?”

You gripped the edge of the desk harder, trying to steady your shaking hands as she closed the distance between you. Like she had all the time in the world. Like she hadn’t just walked in here and rewritten the air.

Then her hands were on you. Her fingertips barely grazed the edge of your shirt, a feather-light touch that was more maddening than anything. Just enough to make your breath hitch. Ellie caught it, of course, the satisfaction lighting up her features.

“You gonna let me play, superstar?” she murmured, voice thickening, growing darker, heavier with something far more dangerous. Her eyes danced across your face, settling on your lips, tracing the way your breath had turned sharp, uneven.

You swallowed, every part of you on fire. "That depends."

Her brows lifted slightly. "On?"

You exhaled, heart hammering, every nerve in your body locked onto the press of her fingers against your skin.

"Whether you’re any good at it."

Ellie’s smirk shifted, something wicked flashing behind her eyes as her hands slid lower, gripping your waist and pulling you against her. The heat between you became unbearable, the space between you vanishing entirely.

“Oh, babe,” she whispered, her lips brushing against yours as she lowered her head, the words dripping with heat and promise.

“You already know the answer to that.”

And before you could fire back, she kissed you.

It wasn’t soft. It wasn't careful. It was a collision—desperate, reckless, the kind of kiss that burned straight through you. Her hands tightened at your waist, pulling you flush against her as she deepened it, tilting her head just enough to steal the breath from your lungs.

A low sound rumbled from her chest, vibrating against your skin as she pressed in closer, like she wanted to drown in you.

"Ellie—"

"Shh," she breathed, lips ghosting over yours. "Just let me."

The desk dug into your back, but you barely noticed, too caught up in the way Ellie’s fingers curled under your shirt, skimming higher, dragging heat in their wake. You gasped into her mouth, and she took the opportunity to bite your lower lip, a smug little hum vibrating against your skin when your knees nearly buckled.

"Fuck," You murmured, fingers tangling in the front of her hoodie, trying to pull her even closer, even though there was barely any space left between you.

It wasn’t a protest. Not really. She heard it for what it was. A warning. A plea. 

Ellie grinned against your mouth, infuriatingly cocky. "Told you." 

Your response was a hand fisting in her hoodie, yanking her back in. The studio air grew heavier, filled with the soft, urgent press of lips, the wet sound of mouths parting and meeting again.

The heat between you thickened, each kiss deeper, hungrier, as if neither of you could get close enough. Ellie’s hands mapped out familiar territory, fingers slipping beneath your shirt, tracing the curve of your waist, the dip of your spine. 

She pushed your back against the desk, her body hovering over yours as a half-empty cup of coffee tipped over, spilling across the surface—but neither of you cared. Ellie’s lips trailed down your jaw, then to your neck, her mouth hot against your skin as she found that sweet spot just beneath your ear. A shiver ran down your spine, your hands fisting her hair, pulling her closer as a gasp slipped from your lips.

Just as you fully sank into the desk, your hand fumbled, accidentally pressing a button.

A red recording light pulsed steadily.

Your stomach dropped. The realization hit like a shock to the system, but before you could react—before you could even think to stop it from recording the audio—she leaned in, voice dark with amusement.

“Oh” she murmured, eyes flicking to the glowing light. “Now that’s interesting.”

She didn’t stop. If anything, the revelation only seemed to fuel her, slow and deliberate in the way she moved. Her fingers traced the edge of the desk, knuckles grazing your skin.

“You know,” she continued, her voice almost thoughtful, almost teasing “most people would just turn it off.” A pause. A smirk. “But you’re not moving.”

Your pulse thundered in your ears, each passing second like an eternity. You should’ve said something, anything—but her eyes were already locked on yours, reading you like an open book, watching every shaky breath, every tremor in your body.

“Interesting” she said again, softer this time.

She figured you out. The thought of this moment being recorded turned you on.

She leaned in, mouth just barely brushing your ear.

“Let’s give it something to remember.”

Her fingers skimmed up your thighs, grazing the hem of your waistband, teasing, before slipping beneath to touch your cunt through the damp fabric of your panties. The touch was barely a whisper, just enough to send a jolt of anticipation straight to your core, every nerve in your body lighting up in response.

“Fuck,” she murmured, voice rough against your ear. “Already so wet f’me”

The studio felt impossibly hot. The low hum of the equipment, the distant flicker of the red recording light—it all blurred around you as Ellie’s fingers pushed your panties to the side and brushed against your soaked cunt, teasing. 

You shivered, biting down on your lip as her fingers stroked slow, lazy circles on your clit. You let out a breathy moan, the sound almost embarrassingly loud in the empty room.

She exhaled a soft chuckle, the sound amused, low. “So sensitive…”

Her fingers traced lazy shapes, barely there—enough to make you tremble, but not enough to satisfy. Your head tipped forward, your forehead pressing against her shoulder as you fought to steady your breathing, determined not to let her see you unravel so easily.

Instead, you pressed your lips to the delicate curve of her neck, nipping gently at the skin. The action pulled a breathy, low moan from her throat, followed by a soft hitch in her breath, a dark mark forming where your lips had just been. The sound of her pulse quickening beneath your mouth sent a thrill through you, making it harder to hold back as the tension between you both grew.

Her free hand gripped your thigh, keeping you pinned. Then, with a slow shift of her weight, she adjusted just enough to quicken the pace of her movements, to send jolts of pleasure racing up your spine. Each thrust had you arching, desperate for more as white-hot waves of pleasure surged through you.

A loud moan ripped from your throat.

“That’s it,” she praised, lips skimming your neck, her voice nothing but smoke and heat. “Don’t hold back.”

Your body tightened as she kept up that slow, torturous rhythm. Each stroke was precise—she knew exactly how to break you, exactly how to keep you teetering right on the edge, without letting you tip over.

The tension in your body coiled tighter, hotter, ready to snap—

And then she stopped.

You gasped, hips jerking back involuntarily, chasing the pressure that was suddenly gone. A desperate noise clawed its way up your throat, frustration burning through you like wildfire.

She laughed, low and smug, her breath ghosting over your skin. “Patience, baby.”

Fingers tangled in your shirt, swallowing your sharp inhale with a kiss that left no room for hesitation. It was frantic, untamed—teeth scraping, tongues tangling, breaths ragged as she pressed herself flush against your legs, completely between them.

Hands gripped your thighs, rough fingertips tracing slow patterns against your heated skin, dragging the anticipation out until you were squirming beneath her, hips canting forward, seeking friction.

Her smirk widened, her eyes gleaming with a mix of mischief and dominance as she leaned in closer, her breath hot against your ear.

"You’ll have to beg for it, pretty," she purred, her voice low and rough, each word a silk-wrapped snare. "Tell me just how badly you want it."

And you were already too lost to even think of denying her.

"Please, Ellie" The words tumbled out, a raw, desperate plea. "I need you... so fucking much..." The vulnerability stung, but it felt right, like a surrender you couldn’t fight, even if you wanted to.

Her lips grazed your jaw, teasing with a scrape of teeth. "Fuck..." she hummed, savoring the way you shivered.

"It's impossible to say no to you," she breathed, her mouth trailing down your throat. "Why would I even try?"

Her hand moved, slipping beneath fabric, slow and unrelenting, fingers pressing into your clit in one smooth, devastating motion again. Your head fell back, a broken moan breaking free, and that was all the encouragement she needed.

The red light kept blinking.

The track kept recording.

And neither of you gave a fuck.

Two fingers eased their way inside, stretching you open, curling just right. It dragged a choked gasp from your throat, the pleasure overwhelming as she finally gave you what you wanted.

A quiet hum of amusement left her lips. “That’s it, baby,” she murmured, her voice all smoke and satisfaction. “Let me hear you.”

Like you had a choice.

Your breath hitched, another moan slipping free as she picked up the pace, slow and devastating. The studio air felt stifling, thick with heat, with want, with the unbearable tension that had been simmering between you for weeks.

And now it was spilling over, consuming both of you whole.

Her free hand slid up your side, tugging your shirt upwards, fingertips ghosting over your ribs and stomach until they found your breast. Her fingers squeezed, kneading, rolling your sensitive bud with so much lust it made your breath hitch.

Ellie’s hands pressed your breast up, and you gasped from the intensity of her grip.

“Easy, Ellie... please,” you breathed, eyes shutting.

“Stop whining” Ellie muttered, slapping your breast.

The unexpected sting sent a rush of heat through you, making your hips instinctively rock against her fingers. Ellie was in cloud nine, watching the way you unraveled, addicted to the way you loved being under her mercy.

Ellie’s eyes darkened, her hand gripping your breast harder and pinching your nipple in a way that made you whine. She leaned in, her breath hot against your ear.

“You want more?” she purred. “I can give you fucking more.”

Her fingers went even faster and deeper inside you, wet lewd sounds filling the room. You felt a fresh wave of heat through you, your stomach tightening, thighs clenching around her. You could barely think, barely breathe, barely function with the way she was ravishing you.

The sound of your own incoherent babbling—wrecked, desperate, breaking on every inhale—echoed through the studio monitors, looping back at you in real time. It was sinful. A record of your undoing, caught on tape, permanent.

And you both loved it.

“Bet you’ll listen to this after we are finished.” she teased, lips brushing the shell of your ear, her voice pure arrogance.

You wanted to tell her to shut up.

Wanted to wipe that cocky expression off her face.

But you couldn’t.

Not when she was this deep inside you, not when your entire body was trembling, not when she was driving you closer and closer to the edge with every relentless movement.

"Ellie! Fuck! Ah! I'm—I'm gonna!—"

Her grip on your thigh tightened, keeping you steady, keeping you exactly where she wanted you. “C’mon, babe” she coaxed, her voice dipping lower, rougher, sending a fresh wave of heat straight to your core. “Let go for me.”

You had no choice.

With a sharp inhale, your body seized, pleasure crashing over you in a dizzying, uncontrollable wave. Your fingers clenched in her hoodie, pulling her closer as the world around you blurred, fractured.

She didn’t stop.

Not until she had wrung everything out of you, not until your legs shook, not until your nails dug half-moons into her shoulders, not until your breath came in sharp, ragged gasps.

Only then did she slow.

Only then did she press a lingering kiss to your jaw, her touch finally easing, the weight of her body grounding you as you came back to yourself.

The dim glow of the studio monitors casted long shadows over your hands as you hovered over the trackpad, hesitating. The screen in front of you flickering with waveforms—familiar ones, yet impossibly intimate.

The remnants of last night. Of her.

Your body still remembered. The way she pressed against you, the roughness of her hands on your skin, the way she took and took without hesitation. Your thighs still trembled if you thought about it too long. A dull ache pulsed deep in your muscles, in the places her fingers had left their mark, in the places where heat still lingered, ghostlike.

And then there was this.

A single, unnamed audio file.

Your cursor hovered over it, pulse thrumming, heat creeping up your neck. You shouldn’t. You really shouldn’t.

But you clicked play anyway.

The second the sound filled your headphones, your stomach clenched. 

Fuck.

It was devastating.

The track captured everything—the sharp intake of breath when her hands disappeared just to return, the way your voice wavered between restraint and surrender, the quiet, broken whimpers that she’d dragged from you, each one edged with desperation. And beneath it all, her.

Her voice—low, teasing, soaked in dark amusement.

A shiver ran down your spine.

You swallowed, but your mouth was dry, your fingers hovering over the delete button.

You should delete it.

You should.

But a wicked idea curled in the back of your mind, taking shape, sinking its claws in.

One particular song of yours was already finished—a sensual, slow-burn of a track, thick with sultry melodies and lyrics soaked in want. It was about sex, no subtlety, no metaphors to hide behind. This was the kind of song that slipped under skin, the kind that made people blush when they heard just how explicit it really was.

And now?

Now, it was going to be about her.

You dragged the unnamed file to the song, heart hammering as you isolated the breathiest, most wrecked parts—the ones that made your thighs press together, the ones that would make her smirk so damn cocky when she realized what you’d done.

You worked methodically, layering them just beneath the chorus, weaving them in so delicately they almost melted into the beat. Almost.

And then, the final touch.

You scrolled through the file, fingers trembling just slightly as you plucked the words you knew would drive anyone crazy.

A soft, broken whisper—"Fuck..."

A cocky drawl—“That’s it, baby. Let me hear you.” 

The one that made something deep inside you clench—"Tell me just how badly you want it."

And then, the final touch, almost at the end of the song. A phrase that made it unmistakably clear where all those sounds had come from. Low and rough, a whisper edged with recognition so distinct that anyone who had heard it once would know—those were your moans, and this was Ellie fucking Wiliams voice.

“Bet you’ll listen to this after we are finished.”

You pressed play, listening to it slip seamlessly into the bridge, into the build-up, the anticipation tightening, tightening, until goosebumps prickled along your skin.

A slow, wicked smile curled at your lips as you saved the file.

Two months.

That was all the time you had until the album dropped.

Let’s see if she notices.

← 𝑐𝘩𝑎𝑝𝑡𝑒𝑟 𝑡𝑤𝑜 | 𝑚𝑎𝑠𝑡𝑒𝑟𝑙𝑖𝑠𝑡 | 𝑐𝘩𝑎𝑝𝑡𝑒𝑟 𝑓𝑜𝑢𝑟 →

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࿐♡ ˚.*ೃ IVE ALWAYS WANTED TO WRITE THAT MOANING IN THE BACKTRACK OF A SONG PARTTT OMG . OMFG. its not my fav chapter, but here it its ig, and its so long im sorry lmaooo. I did like 30 proofreads, but there might still be a few grammar mistakes here and there—sorry in advance, english isn't my first language and I will be happy to receive constructive criticism!.

Please leave a comment if you’re interested in being on the permanent taglist for this series!

see ya'll soon, stay tuned ;)

[sebaztianlovesgeek]

THE NON CANON PARTS OF THE BLACK BUTLER ANIME IN BOTH SEASON 1 AND 2 AND ALSO THE SPECIALS WERE WILD

(in no particular order)

Ciel hires a random naked dog man who can turn into a giant wolf to be his servant even though he literally does nothing around the manor and just hangs out with Finny all the time

Finny forms a crush on a character we later find out is an angel named Angela and after the dog village arc ends we never hear of his crush again

For the most part the curry arc is the same, but for some reason they decided to change the ending. In the manga Lau and Ranmao killed Nina and her husband, in the anime everyone becomes evil by eating curry, and Sebastian had to feed them all his curry buns to turn them all good again, WHAT??

Sebastian has sex with a Nun in some cult church

Angela took Vincent and Rachel's bodies and stitched them into a weird Frankenstein looking thing because apparently that would combine their souls in the afterlife so they could be together forever

Also the whole thing with Ciel being kidnapped by the cult is never explained despite Queen Victoria and Angela being responsible for the death of his parents, therefore you'd think they'd also be responsible for the whole cult thing? But they would have no reason to sell a 10 year old to be abused by a cult-

Ash (aka Angela because they're the same person) turns Queen Victoria into A FREAKING LOLI

Ciel is framed for drug trafficking

Sebastian is arrested and kept in a torture dungeon for like 3 days where he is BDSM whipped by Angela for some reason

Fred Abberline dies

Fred before he dies mentions he doesn't have any family yet he has a brother who shows up in season 2-

Lau and Ranmao die yet they also show up in season 2

Lizzy gets kidnapped by a doll man and is almost turned into a doll zombie (not a bizarre doll just a doll zombie)

Sebastian ditches Ciel in France for some reason

Ciel finds Undertaker on some random boat and then Undertaker tells him he's gonna freakin' die

London is on fucking fire

Who caused the fire? Pluto. And thats the only part of the story where he is relevant

The final fight between Sebastian and Ash/Angela is fucking awesome though

In season 2 Ciel is just in a suitcase and has amnesia

Alois pokes Hannah's eye out for spilling a drink or something

Ciel and Lizzy try to find a deer or something and everyone thinks they're gonna break up after just 1 argument

Lau even started a gambling thing where people put down their bets on whether or not Ciel and Lizzy were gonna break up

Some weird old lady set random people on fire because she didn't like her husband, for some reason the fire disintegrated the souls so Grell couldn't collect them which doesn't make sense

Some weird bullshit happens on a train with a Pharaoh, a murderer and Sebastian being cool like always

Alois has a dress up party at his house

Soma and Agni cry because Ciel has amnesia

Soma is dressed up as Sherlock Holmes even though black butler takes place before that came out (or at the very least before it became mainstream/popular)

Lizzy dresses up as a Native American, lets just say she's lucky Twitter didn't exist in the Victorian Era

Kinda like the whole curry thing everyone turns evil except its from music from a magic instrument Hannah plays and not curry, and Sebastian stops it by playing his own music kind of like the final battle in Equestria Girls Rainbow Rocks

Alois crossdresses and turns Ciel bi curious

Sebastian and Claude have sexual tension in the lake

Ciel and Alois have a sword fight, Ciel is thrown off a balcony and Alois is stabbed

"PLEASE HELP ME CLAUDE, HELP ME I'M DYING 😭"

We soon find out about Alois' backstory and it's actually quite sad and hits a bit close to home for me, I won't go into detail but the poor kids been through a lot, Alois is genuinely an interesting and kind of well written character its a shame he was put in the non canon pile of shite

Claude then crushed Alois' skull and takes his soul and puts it in a ring

Kids are getting their eyeballs ripped out and apparently Alois is doing all of this, but for some reason Scotland yard THINKS CIEL IS ALOIS WHICH IS SO DUMB BECAUSE THEY'VE BEEN WORKING WITH HIM EVER SINCE HE BECAME THE QUEENS CORGI GUARD DOG

He is taken to some doctor and is dumped into a pool of gatorade to fuse his and Alois' souls

Ciel's backstory is basically half of Alois' and half of Ciel's and thinks Sebastian killed his brother Luca

Ciel doesn't like Claude because Claude is a goober

Hannah does a weird thing with Ciel she like... Possesses him? And his eyeball appears in her mouth or something? I had no idea what was going on

Soon it is revealed Hannah was the one who ate Luca's soul and is now feeling like a mother figure for Alois because of it

Grell shows up again (yay) and she keeps trying to take sexy photos of Sebastian

Soon Claude and Sebastian end up at a maze thingy and they need to answer trivia questions to get to Alois/Ciel's soul

Soon they go to some demon island and they end up fighting using a demon sword while Ciel and Alois talk about shit in some void

Claude fucking dies (rip goober)

Alois' soul is finally set free and the poor kid gets to be with his little brother again

Hannah turns Ciel into a demon so Sebastian can no longer eat his soul so Sebastian just becomes Ciel's butler for all eternity and I lowkey feel bad for him, because yeah eating childrens souls is wrong but BRO WORKED SO HARD HE LITERALLY BANGED A NUN FOR THIS CHILD AND THIS IS THE THANKS HE GETS??

Ciel and Sebastian fake their death, the end of season 2 and a few years after that the ACTUAL CONTINUATION OF THE CANON PARTS come out

Ciel in wonderland is very silly

Sebastian as the rabbit is hot for some reason, does that make me a furry?

There is a lot of weird fan service, for example Ranmao keeps shoving her boobs and butt into Ciel's face... LADY THAT IS A 13 YEAR OLD YOU CANT DO THAT-

I'm glad it wasn't canon because I love Ranmao and she would never do that in canon

Madame Red as the queen of hearts is very cool

Weebalu already mentioned this but I wish J Michael Tatum (Sebastian's dub voice actor) did a Alice In Wonderland audiobook in the Sebastian voice

The one where Ciel puts on a play for hamlet was funny, the part where they're practicing is funny because its like an actual theatre club

Soma and Agni are the kids who are always eating, Ciel is the kid who just sucks at acting, Grell is the one who is great at acting but is very annoying and Sebastian is the theatre teacher who wants to commit kms because of all of these stupid kids

Ranmao is seaweed

Grell tries to commit incest during the play-

The special where its basically a 'behind the scenes' thing kind of like an actor AU

Sebastian is a fucking 2010's boy band looking lad

Grell is just amazing in this

In the final "trailer" Grell got pregnant, Queen Victoria built a giant robot, Claude tried to destroy the world with the fucking moon, Hannah... Uhhh lets not talk about what she did, a whole load of "I am your father" type plot twists took place and Alois was Ciel and Sebastian's great great great great great great grand-

The special where theres this character who's basically a self insert but she's a white girl so if you're not either of those its kind of hard getting into it (cries in gay guy)

The POV shots look like something out of Dora The Explorer

Soma wants to marry us for some reason, I wouldn't mind that he's cute

We also get kidnapped by Viscous Druitt for no reason and then Sebastian and Grell save us from a boat in the middle OF THE OCEAN

Finally Will The Reaper (I'm sure there are more specials but I'm lazy)

Grelliam galore

Probably one of the best specials because Grell and William are the main focus and they're just the absolute best

[chamomillehoney]

since we're approaching yellowjackets season 3 release day and I still haven't moved on from season 1, I wanted to expand on the food/love metaphor the show has going on by raising you a headcanon that I've been thinking about for quite a while!!

before I start, I just want to make clear that 1) a good chunk of this is just me relating the story to my own experience, so it's not very objective and idk if it makes any sense, 2) i will try to tackle a sensitive topic to the best of my abilities, I hope I don't mess up, and 3) I've watched the show only recently, so I might be very late to the party and this might already be well accepted as practically canon, in that case I apologize for the redundancy

ok, what I want you to hear me out on is: jackie taylor with an eating disorder. please bear with me as I try to explain my messy thoughts.

so, the way I see it, one of the show's main themes is love, explored through food as a metaphor (and its most disturbing implications we're all well aware of). the other predominant themes are grief, guilt and shame.

here's the thing: most times (to my experience, at least) restrictive eds specifically stem from inner feelings of guilt, shame and inadequacy, triggered by societal pressure and the need to put up a perfect facade in order to hide whatever you feel inadequate for, hoping the guilt will go away if you respect this set of "rules".

it's renowned that jackie is the character that represents societal norms and that's why she's the first to die and be eaten and yada yada; it's made pretty clear that she's perceived as "the perfect one", based on the other girls' recurring comments. the need to be perfect at everything is actually a pretty common symptom in people with eating disorders, for all the reasons I've explained earlier. more often than not, it's not until the very last stages of the illness that the facade begins to crack and you start losing the control you think you had on your life (because you dont have the energy to keep it up anymore).

now, that is obviously not always the case; however, the reason I believe that behind jackie's picture perfect life there was this kind of mental illness is that she was living in the precise environment in which eds thrive: being a teenage girl high school, with demanding parents focused on appearances (dare I say, from what we've seen of the taylors), playing sports, etc.. furthermore, as I've said earlier, this pressure to be the best at everything stems from the need to cover up a sense of not being enough: and we know that jackie, for example, has probably felt dumb compared to shauna -- and here's where the comparison factor kicks in as well. she basically checks every possible box on the handbook.

so what does someone with a restrictive ed (fueled by these factors of perfectionism, guilt and comparison/societal pressure) do? they deprive themselves of food. because they don't feel worthy of it, as they are shameful and guilty. because, by doing so, they will achieve the perfect standards they set for themselves that will allow them not to feel so inadequate and guilty anymore.

so,,,,, after this long ass framework. given that jackie lives the archetypical life of someone prone to anorexia. if she were to be sick, let's apply the food/love metaphor: she feels guilty for something (eating/loving), therefore she deprives herself of something (eating/loving), to achieve society's approval (thinness/conventional love).

and what might possibly be the kind of love a young girl in the 90s felt guilty and ashamed for, that she deprived herself of, to achieve an "acceptable" kind of relationship?

[gmwsuperfan5467890]

Defending Eddie Diaz Part 1

Over the past few months, I have been seeing a lot of takes of the midseason finale and there a quite a few that I respectfully disagree with. So I am going to throw my hat in the ring and give my take on a couple of points. I’ll split this post into 3 parts because it got way too long.

1) Buck is being abandoned.

Let me preface this by saying that Buck is one of my favourite characters and I have adored watching his character development over the years but the way the fandom infantilizes him is quite frankly ridiculous. This man is 33 years old, not a teenager. Of course we know that he won’t cope well and will feel abandoned but he also has the emotional intelligence to understand that Eddie is not abandoning him and that this is something Eddie believes he needs to do to get Christopher back into his life. Christopher is also Eddie’s child, so of course Eddie will prioritize his child above all that and Buck understands that, respects that and loves that about Eddie.

Buck knows that Eddie loves him. Why? Because Eddie has shown it in a thousand different ways. Eddie takes the time to understand Buck, when everyone else accused him of rushing into dangerous situations because they thought that he thought he was invincible, Eddie knew it was because Buck thought he was expendable. Eddie entrusted him with his child (which is essentially his heart), has always taken Buck seriously and gave him responsibilities, while others at the 118 saw Buck as the little brother of the group (makes sense given that he is several years younger than the rest of them, excluding Ravi and Eddie). Eddie forgives Buck instantly when he fucks up and even when Buck sprained Eddie’s ankle, instead if getting mad, Eddie felt guilty about getting closer to T*mmy and “leaving Buck out” and was worried that Buck was mad at him and would not want to speak to him. When Eddie was dying after getting shot, his last words before he went unconscious were asking if Buck was ok. Maybe Buck thinks that Eddie loves him platonically (lmao) but he definitely know that Eddie loves him and wants him in his life, therefor he is not leaving him because he wants to but because he has to.

I am so sick and tired of this narrative that Eddie doesn’t contribute to the buddie friendship, that Eddie is taking advantage of Buck, that Eddie doesn’t love Buck. It’s such bullshit. Eddie shows that he loves Buck through his actions, which may be subtle in nature but are loud in meaning.

In fact, we have seen Buck display such emotional intelligence and understanding in season 5b when Maddie came back. He voiced his fears of being left behind when he and Maddie had a conversation about he always stays and she always leaves but he was also very empathetic to Maddie by consoling her about her fears of being a good mother. I don’t know if he knew the extent of what she went through but I definitely think that he knew that she wasn’t doing well mentally and needed to leave for a while to heal. Buck has the emotional intelligence to understand when someone is actually abandoning him and when someone has to leave for other reasons and fanon taking away that aspect of his character is such a shame because it really enriches his character.

[kerubimcrepin]

Liveblog: Wakfu Season 2 (episodes 13-16)

Episode 13 - The Night of the Thirsters

Proof Amalia and Joris are not close friends number 829342345: if she knew the alcohol he drinks and what he considers "a clean environment to live in" she'd get scared.

WoT twitter would kill Amalia.

I know it's more likely that both alcoholic and non-alcoholic bamboo milk exists, but the thought of everyone being a-ok with Yugo underage drinking makes me giggle for some reason. Ruel would fucking do that.

Are your villains 1. indestructible, 2. want to consume something that could theoretically fix them, 3. in the process, inflict a fate worse than death upon their victim, who 4. becomes one of them?

...Necromes were a missed opportunity. Shoulda called them Wakfu Thirsters instead.

Episode 14 - The Voice Thief

It's always sad to see the way the world has been devastated by Ogrest's Chaos.

FUCK FUCK FUCK FUCK FUCK FUCK!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!

...This says:

Her singing is so cute!

She is now fully bamboo milk-pilled. GOOD.

New Krosmoz music lore: We already know that vinyls and their players exist, as well as the fact that rock music exists (due to the fact that The Blues of a Hypermage (parody of the IRL song The Blues of a Buisinessman) exists).

Now we have the confirmation that metal bands are real.

Also, electric guitars are also real.

Mics are also real. (I am totally not noting all of this down because I want to write a "Joris, Kerubim, and Atcham go to karaoke" scene in one of my fics in the future, nuh-uh...)

Hummina hummina hummina bazooooooooing! eyes pop out AROOOOOOOOGA! jaw drops tongue rolls out WOOF WOOF WOOF WOOF WOOF WOOF WOOF WOOF WOOF WOOF WOOF WOOF WOOF WOOF WOOF.

It's very rare to see, within the show, characters who differ from their usual class skin and hair colours, which is a shame. (I am 99% sure this is an iop due to his clothes and his hair pointing upwards)

Text behind Eva: rien ne sert de payer il faut en fuir / there is no point in paying, you have to run away

Text behind Amalia is too shielded to transcribe fully.

This is written in Brakmarian. It says:

This means that, metal music is stereotypically a Brakmarian form of music (big news: spoon found in kitchen)

I usually don't point this sort of stuff out but, man, this tavern is really well off. Not only is there a lot of food, there are also huge hot baths...

Also, once again, canalization and running water are real in this setting.

I choose to believe that this bubble thing is the Krosmoz equivalent of vaping because it's funny.

[blushing] Would!

Jpop is real in this setting, and someday, I will be able to prove to you, that Joris is a fan of it, using some proof besides "well ecaflips are kind of japanese-coded sometimes" and "it just makes sense."

Good rooms in taverns like these not only have hot baths but also fruit, candles, and drinks... [starts writing down "Joris, Kerubim and Atcham go to an expensive tavern and start talking about some convoluted topic, with vivid descriptions of delicious fruit-eating, how good the wine is, and how soft the bubbles in the bath are" in my fic self-indulgent scene ideas document. I can live my vacation fantasies vicariously through those three men]

Of course metal music from Brakmar is about the fact that the apocalypse caused inflation and that it's Good.

This says:

ourse

olle

m al

venu

Episode 15 - Wabbit Island

Hhh she is a very good artist.

[guy who is insane voice] This means that if I ever want to use the expression "canary in a coalmine" in a fic it'll be "tofu in a coalmine" instead.

The word Sayonara exists in Krosmoz which implies that some sort of fantasy Japanese is real. Big win.

Episode 16 - The Cursed Fountain

:(

While I usually talk a lot about character parallels between Yugo and Joris (these men who had to grow up far too fast will someday commit acts which no human being can be forgiven for in the name of goodness—-) there is a lot to be said about parallels betwen Eva and Joris.

They're both artistic, kind people who try to appear logic-driven (and sadly, they are both basically the wranglers/babysitters of their entire adventuring groups).

[badkitty3000]

You Can't Go Home Again

Chapter 5

Link to Chapters 3 and 4

Link to Chapters 1 and 2

Link to Chapter 6

All Five wants to do is rest. But when yet another apocalypse threatens to doom them all, he doesn't have that luxury. This time, the only solution for the Hargreeves to try and save the world is to unite Five with another, alternate version of himself.

Five starts to spiral when he is faced with the alternate life that he could have had, if only he hadn't gone and ruined everything. But maybe, just maybe, there's still time for him to obtain the happy ending he deserves.

An alternate season three rewrite for a request I received.

Warnings: None

More chapters will be posted as I continue writing this multi-chapter fic. Enjoy!

Chapter 5: You Can't Go Home Again

“I don’t know, I don’t think he’s doing too well.”

“Yeah, even before we got here, he’s not been looking great. I think he’s drinking way too much.”

“That much booze plus no sleep, topped with his size? It’s a recipe for disaster.”

“Should we help? Or at least say something?”

“Ha! Ok, sure, I volunteer you to go down there and broach this subject with our very temperamental and homicidal brother. I’m sure it will go over really well.”

“Well, we should do something. I feel bad for him. He’s been through so much.”

“It’s Five, he’s fine.”

“We can’t just keep saying that. Yes, it’s Five, but he’s clearly not fine and hasn’t been for a while.”

“What are we supposed to do about it? Send him to Junior AA? Maybe throw in a good six months of psychotherapy while we’re at it? We don’t have time for all of that.”

“Look, this isn’t the right time or place to be discussing this. We need to get home and then we can deal with it.”

“And what if we don’t get home? What if we end up somewhere else again? He’s going to really go off the deep end. I just don’t think he can handle another major mishap.”

“I’m not saying we don’t need to offer some help; I’m just saying that this is not the time to do it. There’s too much on the line right now. And you know he’s going to freak the fuck out if you try and bring it up, or even so much as offer any help. Just let the two of them figure this out first.”

“But we’re all in agreement about getting him some help once we’re back home, right?”

“Yes, definitely.”

“Good. Because I don’t want to see him hurt himself or worse because he can’t handle normal life once all of this is over. We already lost him once before; we don’t need a second time.”

“I think the old man deserves a little happiness in his life. Seeing all of this and what could have been…it must be killing him.”

“You’re the one that called him a dick to his face this morning.”

“Well, he is a dick! But that doesn’t mean I don’t care about him.”

“Me, too.”

“Same.”

“I think we all feel that way. Yes, even you, Lila, stop rolling your eyes.”

“On a different subject, are you guys hungry? Cause I’m starving.”

“What else is new?”

As the conversation swung in a different direction regarding food and how much Luther eats in one day, Five stepped back into the kitchen. He had come upstairs to clear his mind a little, and to also get some more coffee. He had actually wanted something much stronger, so he had been trying very quietly to search around in the cupboards for anything that would fit that bill. His siblings, who he had been trying to avoid, had been in the living room when he overheard them discussing his current state.

Hovering in the doorway, listening to their concerns, he glanced down at the bottle of cooking sherry in his hand. He swallowed hard as the shame began to wash over him. They were right; he was a dick. They didn’t even feel comfortable coming to talk to him about any of this because they were afraid he’d go fucking crazy on them. Which, Five realized, was entirely true.

He knew he had a problem; he wasn’t in denial. He had a lot of problems, actually, that was pretty obvious. But they also had another good point, and that was that they just couldn’t dive into all of that right now. Five was on borrowed time. They all were. And if they were going to make it out of this timeline in one piece, and restore things back to how they should be, then he couldn’t waste time sharing his feelings and getting a group hug.

With another wistful look at the bottle in his hands, he returned it, unopened, to the cupboard where he found it. He and his other version had been making really good progress, and he didn’t need to slow that down by getting wasted; no matter how tempting the thought may be. Filling up his coffee cup, he blinked back to the basement before he could change his mind.

*************************************

“Fuck, I think I have it,” the other Five said quietly while he adjusted some dials on the apparatus he was messing with. “I need a different screw driver. There should be one in that top drawer, can you hand it to me?”

Five opened the top drawer of the desk, moving various papers aside to try and find the screwdriver. When he came across a file folder, he picked it up to look underneath. Seeing the tool he needed, Five picked it up, but also accidentally dropped the folder so that all of the papers inside went fluttering to the ground.

“Damn it,” he muttered as he tossed the screwdriver to his other self and bent down to pick up the papers.

The other Five was not paying attention, since his focus was on his work at the moment, so he didn’t realize what had happened. As Five started collecting the papers and shoving them back in the folder, he noticed that a lot of them were newspaper clippings. As he inspected them more closely, Five saw that each one of the articles had to do with their father.

“Eccentric Billionaire And Former Olympian To Dedicate New Hospital Wing!”

“Reginald Hargreeves Debuts The Sparrow Academy: Meet Our Heroes”

“Hargreeves Institute Of Art Grand Opening Friday”

“Another Crime Ring Thwarted Thanks To Reginald Hargreeves And His Sparrow Academy”

“The Hargreeves Diet! Learn Reginald’s Secrets To A Healthy Lifestyle!”

Intermixed with the articles were hand-drawn schematics of the Academy, as well as a few crudely drawn ones of The Hotel Obsidian. Five recognized the drawing style and handwriting as his own.

Holding the folder up, he asked quietly, “What is all this?”

When his other self finally raised his head to look, his face paled for a moment before his eyebrows furrowed with anger. “It’s nothing that concerns you, so don’t worry about it.”

“Well, I think it does concern me considering you ARE me.”

“It’s irrelevant to what we’re working on now, so just drop it.”

Five looked down at the folder with concern, before setting it back in the drawer where he had found it. After another minute of silence, he spoke again.

“Listen, I’m not sure what you’re planning here, but…”

The other laughed contemptuously. “No, you don’t. You actually don’t know anything about me.”

“I do, though. Because—”

“Yeah, yeah…because you’re me, I get it. But just like I am not sitting around here wallowing in self-pity and drinking myself stupid, you don’t understand what I have going on, either.”

Five hesitated. That was all true, but he still didn’t like the idea of some weird obsession with their father. “Does Marie know you collect all of this stuff?”

The other Five slammed his palm on the table, rattling all of the parts lying on top. “Don’t fucking talk about my wife!” he yelled.

“Jesus…calm the fuck down. I’m not saying anything about your wife. But fine, I’ll drop the subject.”

“Good.”

After a few more seconds of uncomfortable silence between the two men, Five rejoined the other one at the table. “Looks good.”

The other him nodded as he used a small pair of pliers to tighten one more coil. “I think that should do it.”

“What do you think? Should we power it up?”

The two Fives looked down at the prototype for their time-travel device. As they had discussed earlier, it was small and portable with a wrist band so it could be worn as a watch. The current design had multiple dials to configure the exact date and time the traveler wished to go. They had agreed that it should also be stylish, so as to avoid any unwanted attention to it. The end result resembled a kind of large diver’s watch with a sleek design.

“Might as well give it a try. If it doesn’t work, we’re going to have to start at the beginning again. If it does…well, then we can build an exact replica so that we each have one.”

With a nod, Five took a deep breath. “Alright, then. I figure if we both channel our powers at the same time, we have a better shot.”

“Agreed.”

As Five watched his other self start to attach a pair of jumper cables to the device, he ran a nervous hand down the back of his neck. “Just so you know, the last time I tried to hot-wire something, not only did it not work, but I almost fried my nuts off.”

Still not looking up, the other Five shrugged. “Well, I don’t have a better idea, do you?”

Shaking his head, Five sighed. “No, not really.”

Once the jumper cables were hooked up properly, Five was handed his two ends of the cables. He swallowed nervously and exhaled a loud breath of air. “Fuck, I can’t believe I’m doing this again.”

“Ok, on three?”

Five nodded.

“One, two, thr…”

On cue, both Fives’ hands glowed with pulsating blue light as they worked on channeling as much of their power into it as possible. They watched as the light traveled slowly along the cables until it reached the watch-like device. As soon as their power made contact with it, the charge reversed itself, up through the cables again and back into their hands. With a loud, strangled yell from both, the Fives gritted their teeth and held tight. The current that was coursing through their bodies was being fueled and refueled by their continual release of power as it created an endless loop of electricity and pain.

“Hold…on...” Five instructed through a tightly clenched jaw. “Keep…going…”

As the other Five grunted with pain he hissed out, “I know…dipshit…just…shut up…”

“Fuck…you…” Five gasped in between clipped groans.

As they worked through the intense pain, they each kept their eyes focused on the watch between them on the table. The electrical current was passing through it, causing it to pulse with the same blue energy of their power. The longer they held on, though, the longer the pulses lasted. Finally, as they were both contemplating letting go before they really did fry off any crucial body parts, the glow became constant. The watch was now emitting its own bright blue light. With a slight nod to each other, the Fives let go of the cables, letting them drop to the ground as their bodies folded over, leaning heavily on the table with both hands. With harsh, loud breaths, they gradually worked through the pain and exhaustion of what they had just been through. After a minute, they glanced over at one another with a small, knowing smirk. Then Five looked down at the watch.

“I’ll be goddamned…I think it worked.”

The watch continued to glow blue, just as it had been when they were channeling their powers into it. This was a good sign, because it meant it had been fully charged and theoretically would not need any more pain-fueled jumps to get it going. That was all speculation, though. It would require a test drive to see if they had actually calibrated everything correctly.  

With both of them still reeling from the pain and trying to catch their breath, they sat down and stared at the device. They were each thinking the same thing, because it was the only thing to think. Who was going to test it?

Each of them had been through the disastrous results of botched time travel in the past. It was something neither one of them wanted to experience again, but the choice was obvious.

“I’ll do it,” Five said simply.

His other self creased his eyebrows together and crossed his arms over his chest. “Why should you do it?”

“Well, if you can’t figure that out, you’re even dumber than I thought.”

“What the fuck is that supposed to mean?”

Five sighed heavily, running a hand down his face. He was just so damn tired and he needed a drink. But this had to come first. And it had to be him.

“Look, asshat, I’m not exactly thrilled about throwing myself blindly through the vacuum of space and time again. I’ve been doing it way too often lately, and each time I fuck something up. But it has to be me and I think you know that.”

The other Five huffed, pushing his hair off his face and tipping his head back with a sigh. Then he looked at Five and gave a small nod of understanding. He did know. There was no way he could risk the jump with an experimental time travel device. Not if there was even a chance of getting lost and leaving his kids and wife behind.

“Alright then,” Five said with a terse nod before standing up and grabbing the watch. He swallowed nervously, even just holding it in his hand. He knew how potentially sensitive these things could be, and it was possible any type of movement or disturbance to the workings inside could cause it, and him, to blip out of their current existence. “How far back or forward should I set it?”

“Just a few minutes. Start small.”

Five nodded again, hearing Reggie’s voice echoing in his head. “Keep the same timeline?”

“For right now, yes. Let’s not complicate things quite yet.”

Five adjusted a few dials to set the time and place, before removing his usual watch from his left wrist and replacing it with the time travel version. Even as hesitant as he was with it strapped to his wrist, Five still had to admit that they did a pretty damn good job of making it stylish. It would complement his suits nicely.

“Ready?” the other Five asked.

Five rolled his shoulders back and stretched his neck from side to side in preparation. “Ready,” he stated before pressing the small activation button on the side of the watch.

In one small burst of blue, Five disappeared. When he reappeared a millisecond later, he was still in the basement. This time, however, he found himself staring back at two versions of himself that were in the middle of an argument. Everyone stopped talking and stared at one another. “Shit, I think this means it works,” the smaller ‘other’ Five said, right before Five pressed the button again to return to his correct time.

Popping out of thin air, Five landed in the exact same spot he had been in when he left. With a quick check of his surroundings, he looked at his other self. “Did we do it?”

“I think so. You were gone for maybe a second. Did you make it to the right place and time?”

Five nodded. “It was right here just a few minutes ago, before we charged it. So, yeah…I think we did it.”

“Perfect!” the other version said with a smile.

“That was only one test. We should do a couple more to make sure we didn’t just get lucky. Plus we need to see if this thing stays charged.”

Both Fives knew that the worst thing to happen would be to find themselves stranded in the wrong time again, and with the watch having run out of power. It would be the same as when the briefcases went kaput. They’d be relying on their own powers and that was never a good thing.

“Ok, let me try a different setting. I’ll go a little further back and to a different place.”

He took a deep breath after he programmed the watch. “See ya,” he said with a wave before disappearing again.

When Five appeared out of the portal, he took a quick look around to assess the situation. He appeared to be in the right place. He had put in the coordinates for the Hotel Obsidian and he had found himself landing right in the main lobby. Luckily for him, the type of clientele that frequented that hotel didn’t even blink an eye when a teenage kid suddenly appeared in their midst out of nowhere. As Five faced the main doors of the hotel, he saw what he had hoped to see. His entire family, including himself, were trying to shove their way through the revolving door into the lobby, all while loudly arguing.

“Yes!” Five said to himself with a smile as he pressed the button on the watch before anyone could notice him. When he reappeared back in the basement, he let out a relieved sigh. “Ok, so far so good. There doesn’t seem to be any issue with the power strength and the coordinates seem correct.”

The other him nodded. “So, now what?”

Five let out a forceful breath of air through puffed cheeks. “Well, now comes the fun part. A bigger jump and a different timeline.”

“You sure about this?”

Five shook his head while setting the watch to the date and time he had in mind. He wasn’t sure why that particular date popped into his head, but it didn’t matter what it was, just as long as it was part of his original timeline. “Not really, no.”

When he was ready and the watch was programmed, he turned to his other self. “Listen, if this doesn’t work and I disappear, tell our family I’m sorry.”

The other Five nodded, knowing there was no use in giving optimistic words of encouragement. It was very possible this entire thing could fail. If so, Five would be lost and the kugelblitz would eventually wipe out the entire universe, including his wife and kids.

Five was gone in a zap of blue.

Reappearing on the other side of the portal, he felt the same wave of nausea pass over him that he used to have when he would make big jumps like this for the Commission. He closed his eyes for a moment to steady himself. Then he took a look around.

He was home. At least, the only real home he’d ever known, even if it was more like a boarding school than anything else. Standing in the large foyer of the Academy, Five checked the stained glass on the front door. Seeing the umbrella etched into the panes, he let out a quiet sigh. That was a good sign, but he still needed to confirm he was indeed in the right time and place.

Creeping quietly toward the living room, he heard voices coming from behind the sliding doors that separated it from the foyer. There was the sound of muffled laughter and Five could smell something delicious cooking in the kitchen.

“Baked ham,” Five whispered to himself before rolling his eyes at his own stupidity of talking out loud.

Taking a nervous look around, but not seeing anyone or hearing any approaching footsteps, Five pressed his ear to the door. The laughter was louder, and he could hear people talking, but he still couldn’t make out what they were saying. He knew it was a big risk, but his curiosity got the better of him and he cracked the door just a tiny bit to peer inside.

They were all there. His entire family, including Ben and himself, were gathered together, playing some sort of board game. Because Five had programmed the exact date and time, he knew they were all eight years old and it was a Saturday. Reginald had gone out for the evening, and Pogo had decided the kids could stand to use more than one hour of play time that day. So, he had asked Grace to make an extra special dinner of their favorite ham and potatoes, with chocolate cake for dessert. While she was preparing it in the kitchen, the siblings celebrated their precious freedom together.

Five smiled to himself while he watched his family playing and getting along. It was one of his better memories of his childhood. They were still young and hadn’t been competitive with each other yet. Training was still fun and the idea of being debuted as the Umbrella Academy for all the world to see was exciting.

Diego and Luther were arguing, of course, but it was more of the normal sibling arguing you would expect, and not the kind where you try and kill one another. Allison was trying to get everyone’s attention to explain the rules of the board game, but no one was listening to her. Five’s young self and Ben were sitting on one of the couches behind her, throwing little pieces of balled up paper into her hair and laughing hysterically behind their hands.

Klaus and Viktor sat dutifully in front of the table with the game, trying to listen to the rules as obediently as possible. That is, until Klaus took one of the playing pieces and stuck it up his nose, making Viktor laugh and Allison annoyed.

“You guys!” she started to protest, but when she saw Klaus take another piece and try to balance it on his head, she started cracking up. “Oh, forget it,” she said with a giggle, picking a piece of paper out of her long curly hair. She turned to Ben and Five who were doing a very poor job of looking innocent. Allison stuck her tongue out and flicked the paper back at them, hitting Five in the nose.

“Alright, children, time to eat!” their mother cheerfully announced from the dining room.

Five watched his little self spring off the couch, pushing Ben down in the process, and laughing. “Yes! I’m starving! I call the biggest slice of cake!”

“No way, Five! I do!” Luther argued as he trotted after his smaller brother.

“I’ll let you have it if you can catch me,” Five teased, just before flashing his bigger brother a haughty smile and blinking away.

The kids eventually made their way into the dining room where they were out of Five’s sight. He closed the door again and pressed his forehead against it, closing his eyes. The urge to burst in there and warn his innocent, younger self about everything that was going to happen was so strong he could feel his heart pounding wildly in his chest and pulsing in his ears. He wanted to grab him by the shoulders and look him in the eyes. He wanted to tell him not to time travel, even if he thought he was ready. Listen to Reggie. You really will be starving. And you’ll be alone. For so, so long…you’ll be alone.

The internal battle waged on as Five felt the tightening in his chest again and the breaths that wouldn’t come. Black spots began forming behind his eyelids.

He needed a drink. Maybe he could slip inside while they were at the dinner table and steal a bottle of Reginald’s booze. Then maybe he could think straight.  No…no, he just needed to breathe. Inhale. Exhale. Inhale. Exhale.

Five, are you ok? You need to get out of here. The experiment worked, you just need to get back now.

I know, Dolores, but what if I can save him? Save me?

Five pressed his forehead harder against the door frame. He was panicking and frozen stiff. He needed to get out of there before someone saw him. Or before his little eight-year old self started experiencing psychosis symptoms.

You can do this, Five. Just open your eyes and move.

I can’t…I’m sorry, sweetheart, but I can’t.

Yes, you can Five…you know you can. You just don’t want to.

As usual, the Dolores inside his head was right. He wanted to stay. God, he wanted to stay there so badly. Despite all of its tortures, the Academy was his home. It was warm and filled with delicious smells from his mother’s cooking. His siblings were there; healthy and alive. His warm, cozy bed was waiting for him upstairs.

Five was certain that if he just waltzed into the kitchen right now, Grace would kiss his forehead and smooth his hair before insisting that he sit down at the table while she made him a plate of food. She would smile and ask where he’d been. When was the last time he was comforted like that? When was the last time anyone cared that much about him?

Your siblings care, Five. You heard them talking about you. They love you.

No, they just think I’m an asshole. They need me to get back to their lives, but they don’t really care.

That’s not true, Five. You know it’s not.

“Stop it stop it stop it stop it,” Five whispered to himself. “Move, stupid. You need to move.”

Nothing you can do will change anything, Five. What has happened has happened. You left your home at thirteen. You got lost in an apocalyptic world all by yourself. You became an old man and an assassin. You tried to save the world. All of these things already happened to you. And there’s nothing you can do to change that.

And just like that, Five snapped out of it. He opened his eyes, lifted his head, and took in his surroundings again. He was still alone. He could still hear his younger self and his siblings in the other room. But it didn’t matter. What was done was done. He could travel years into the past or decades into the future. He could jump a million timelines. But nothing would ever change his past.

The best he could do now was to make sure the future was just a little bit better for him and for his family. So, with a heavy heart, and what felt like a ball of lead in his stomach, Five reluctantly pressed the activation button on his watch. The Academy would never be his home again, and he had to accept that.

“You ok?” his doppelganger asked when he appeared back in the basement.

Five was breathing hard and raggedly, still reeling on his feet. He nodded and clutched the side of the table. “Yeah. Just some lasting symptoms of time travel. It will pass shortly.”

“And it all worked correctly?”

Five nodded again. “Yes.”

The other Five clapped his hands together with determination. “Great! We can get to work on building the second watch, then.” He looked at Five with concern. “Are you sure you’re ok?”

“Yeah, yeah, I’m fine. Can I just…can you get me a drink? I need one before we start again.”

His older-looking self looked dubious for a second, and then he nodded. “Yeah, sure. You want whiskey?”

“I don’t care. Anything.”

“Alright. I’ll get you one drink, but that’s it.”

“Sure, whatever,” Five sighed as he sat heavily down in one of the chairs.

As the other Five left to go get the drink, Five rested his elbows on his knees and put his face in his hands. He needed to pull himself together. He couldn’t crack up now, he needed to concentrate. The tears were starting to form behind his closed lids, but he squeezed his eyes tighter so they would stay there. When he heard the footsteps coming back down the stairs, he wiped his face quickly and straightened up, smoothing down his clothes and combing his hair back into place with his fingers.

“Here,” his other self said as he handed him a tumbler of whiskey.

Five took a small sip and he immediately started to feel better. “Thanks.” He took another, longer drink, and then set the glass on the table before standing up. “Alright, we’re not done. Let’s get to work.”

If you wish to be tagged, let me know!

@kaybreezy3000 @lunalovesangst

[aliusfrater]

your thoughts on a what if scenario with later seasons Sam relapsing on demon blood? Just something I saw online and curious what your thoughts are.

i've seen this concept lots and while it is interesting and has a lot of potential, the versions i've seen very often neglect to recognise the major factors that went into sam's addiction and how his addiction influenced his season four arc. like it's important to note that it started with grief as agency and agency channeled through the winchester familial ideal of revenge which was then manipulated into sam and ruby's sexual relationship and although his addiction wasn't in 'full swing' till the last 1/3 of season four, grooming, specifically his relationship with ruby and the rape/repeated coercion + his nonrelationship with azazel, is tied to sam's relationship with his ingesion of ruby's blood and it's a huge aspect of of the addiction. then there's also the part of it that relates to sam's usage of his abilities and its conflation with his perceivable independence and how that independence is conflated within the dichotomy of monstrosity (along with sam's personal conflation of it with his violated autonomy) especially re: his relationship with dean. the conditions were pretty much perfect for sam to develop an addiction, basically and i think that in a canon compliant relapse it'd have to include an event that echoes more than one angle of the initial circumstances that resulted in his developing of one in the first place.

i read a fic once (i didn't really enjoy the writing or the execution so i didn't bookmark it :/) where sam relapsed after he was force-fed demon blood while being held captive by the bmol then continued to use it until there was intervention from cas. the initial premise is pretty good but there's next to nothing about sam's season twelve arc that warrants his continued abuse of the demon blood. consider his 5.14 relapse, after which he's promptly locked into the panic room to be detoxed, something it's very possible he didn't fight against due to his reaction to dean and bobby doing the same to him in 4.21/22 ("no, he was right to say it. i mean, i don't blame him after what i did.") and his own shame regarding the possibility of relapsing while being knowingly affected by famine that quite literally led to him asking to be locked in handcuffs. if it's going to be a continuously explored set of actions i think that there just has to be more to his relapse than just the initial event and it has to relate to his stepping outside of his nonrole regarding the dichotomy of monstrosity either representatively or metaphorically especially wrt his independence or a simple need for control and how his agency and a sam-typical execution of agency works, much like how his initial experiences with addiction worked. continuing with the season twelve bmol example: we literally get another monstrous sam winchester mirroring character, specifically relating to monstrosity as it connects to violations of autonomy, magda's own mirrored panic room, synonymous familial dynamics, Otheredness, csa metaphors, etc. etc. that the narrative provided zero space for—sam is awarded the implication of a relationship with her but there's no direct/watsonian/relationship dynamic developmental extension of relatability of his own experiences with monstrosity to her and it's entirely up to the audience to make this connection through lines that imply personal experience directed to characters that are Not magda (a supernatural-typical abstraction of sam character exploration, sure but the nature of supernatural's reduction in quality often relates to assuming audience illiteracy) + she's killed within the same episode and is never mentioned again.

i haven't really thought about it past that though because it's not super appealing to me for the same reason(s) i think it's often neglected within the concept especially since the narrative doesn't really provide space for it lol like we got some pretty decent sam and lucifer scenes but past season eleven (and rowena's relationship with lucifer) they were mainly on jack's behalf and weren't really explored past that (minus the gaps jared's acting filled); i think the same would happen to sam should his addiction be the foundation of one of his arcs so i'm fine without it at all (unless anyone has some pretty good fic recs ;P)

[whoishotteranimepolls]

Fantasy Anime Recommendations

I love all kinds of fantasy, whether it be high fantasy, low fantasy, dark fantasy, or urban fantasy. So here are my recommendations for that genre.

Disclaimer: More will be added to this list as I slowly work through my to-be-watched list

Black Clover

4 seasons and a Canon movie ongoing

My favorite underrated Battle Shonen series is about an orphan boy who dreams of being the wizard King. However, there is a slight problem since he was born without the ability to use magic. This is for you if you like the classic battle Shonen. It takes that classic formula and executes it to perfection. Plus, the show has some of the best-written supporting cast and female characters in Shonen.

Mashle: Magic and Muscles:

2 seasons ongoing

Satirical parody of Harry Potter. Except it's a kid without magic who has to somehow survive at the universe equivalent of Hogwarts without anyone finding out he can't use magic

Frieren: Beyond Journey's End

1 season ongoing

It's a beautiful story and one of the best shows I've ever watched. However, it is not for everyone. Some people cannot handle the slow pacing because sometimes it is just as much of a slice of Life as it is an action-adventure story.

Wistoria: Wand and Sword

1 season is ongoing

A kid without magic wants to be a great magician, but to gain that title, he picks up a sword to prove you don't need magic to become the greatest. Unfortunately, he still has to go to magic school. Black Clover mixed with Mashle is just as good as both.

Black Butler

4 seasons, a two-part special, and a Canon movie ongoing.

A young boy and his demon butler solve mysteries in Victorian England. I recommend researching what Canon and non-canon or OVA are before you start. Otherwise, you will be confused.

Dungeon Meshi

One season ongoing

There's a reason this took over Tumblr for months and is still trending

The Case Study of Vanitas

A human doctor for vampires and his vampire companion in Paris. This one was an emotional roller coaster. The fate of season 3 is unknown and it is a shame

Trese

It's a supernatural detective show set in the Philippines, and it's a shame it only got one season

Not anime, but still adult animation

Castlevania

Completed, but there is an ongoing spin-off series

Based on the Japanese game, Netflix did a fantastic job adapting it. I never played the games and I loved it. I rewatched it with someone who played the games, and they loved all the Easter eggs

The sequel Castlevania Nocturne is not as good as the original. Hopefully, they fix that with the second season. The trailer did look amazing

The Legend of Vox Machina

3 seasons ongoing

You like classic high fantasy. This is for you. It's based on the D&D live stream show Critical Role. A friend of mine jokingly calls it Middle Earth. If they were allowed to say fuck it's very adult and very gory. However, it is amazing and one of my favorite animated shows.

Blood of Zeus

2 seasons ongoing

If you like Greek mythology, this one's for you. The story of one of Zeus's bastards and the consequences of Hera finding out about them. It's a story that feels like it could be straight out of Greek mythology and they do a fantastic job

Maya and The Three

One season it's a Netflix exclusive

Think of it as a love story of Mesoamerican culture in animated form. It's probably the most out of my recommendations because it is 3D animation. But God I love this show. It's about an Aztec princess who has to fight the gods in order to save her Kingdom along with her companions, who are members of the Inca, the Maya, and the indigenous Caribbean culture. Again, it's a love story of the indigenous cultures of Mesoamerica made by actual Latinos. I love this show so much, and it is underrated.

[startrekprodigyfan]

Okay yeah… I binged the whole season in one day.

It was actually surprisingly easy to do so. And while that means my planned slower recaps and speculation are basically out the window, I also now just don’t have to worry about spoilers for weeks on end.

I’m still going to keep spoilers under a cut though. Even if you block key hashtags, stuff can get through, and just making the spoilers further down a text post you have to scroll past to continue browsing tumblr doesn’t help either. Hide that content behind a cut, please!

Non-spoiler thoughts:

It was so good. It was honestly more Trek than I could’ve possibly expected. And to all those early naysayers who were confused by the Protostar and where it was supposed to be in the timeline after the first episode of season 1, all of that gets answered and put into context by the end of season 2. Thank GOD! Every single plot point people brought up and thought was a “plot hole” gets filled and explained.

It’s not as emotional as the first season, but the situations and events definitely still have a lot of weight and the stakes are so high for so long too! There’s a surprising number of dark events that happen throughout the series. Way darker than even I’m used to watching the animated shows that I do. Kudos for not skimping on the peril and stakes of the mission for the sake of kids being traumatized lol

And while there is the potential for more, if we never get a season 3 this would still be an extremely satisfying ending all the same. I am very happy there aren’t any loose ends here.

Prodigy is without a doubt the most reliably consistent Star Trek show that’s ever existed. Not a single episode feels like filler. Not a single episode wastes time or characters. Even the goofy episodes have character development and callbacks later, and I genuinely don’t think there’s a single episode that I would skip or not watch again. That’s an amazing feat in and of itself, but as a Trek fan that’s just unheard of! Kudos all around!

Now for my longer spoiler thoughts under the cut:

Okay…

How the HELL did you guys make Wesley Crusher’s time traveling arc sooo good? As a TNG fan I was always annoyed with the “traveler” storylines and with Wesley’s character in general. Even as a kid I never really liked him. But this storyline makes him interesting and gives a lot of weight to his powers. He’s almost like The Doctor from Doctor Who, someone who has so much going on in his head that he’s sort of lost it.

That honestly was the biggest surprise to me. I was convinced that Hologram Janeway (and the construct) were somehow manipulating time and events because of the wormhole. Janeway would be trying to help them, while the construct was trying to stop them. That was my working theory for the start of the series. Imagine my surprise when it turns out it’s Wesley Crusher! wtf!?

I do like that he gets to reunite with his mom finally. And that he learns he has a brother.

Incidentally that’s something else I was not expecting. How MUCH of this series was going to be timeline connected to the events of Picard and Lower Decks respectively. Like, wow… they connected the Mars Shipyard explosion and the Romulan evacuation plot points that made sense for the story. Like holy crap, then FINALLY getting into Starfleet only for the shipyards to explode and Starfleet is severely crippled. I did not expect that to happen, and it’s sadly realistic too.

I still hate the Romulan evacuation storyline from Picard, but as a matter of keeping things consistent it makes sense for it here. And while I don’t like it being a canon event, it’s overall good for the consistency of “prime” trek.

I do like that Dal became a second in command. I’ve always felt like Dal was never really destined to be the captain and that he’s always been better at helping others be their best selves. So it makes sense for his character arc that he learns he doesn’t need to be in charge to make a difference and that there’s no shame in being second.

Overall I am still reeling from how much Trek happened in this season. There’s never a dull moment. Unfortunately I am not optimistic about a 3rd season. Netflix picking up a mostly completed series to broadcast on their streaming service is far FAR cheaper than paying for an entire season to be created outright. And sadly, as much as I want more Prodigy, I have a feeling it’s just not on people’s radars enough for it to do gangbuster numbers enough to convince Netflix to pick them up for a 3rd season. I hope I am proven wrong, but I will not get my desire for more season unrealistically hyped up.

I do want to rewatch the entire show now, because there were clues left in the first season that only get answered at the end of season 2. And I love closed loop time travel storylines like that! I can’t wait to go back and connect the dots knowing what I know now.

An excellent series. Probably one of Trek’s best in decades. A true love for the material and the characters and the legacy of Trek lore all rolled into an amazingly animated package.

[narvaldetierra]

Thank you for tagging me, @nachosncheezies! 💖

Rules: share the first lines of ten of your most recent fanfics and tag ten people

So, I have been with little to no free time to write since last year, and I've been barely posting something lately. But I liked your version, so I'm going to copy you: I'll do the first lines of 5 posted stories, and then I'll do first lines of some WIPs I'm currently working on.

Disclaimer: once again, English isn't my first language.

No good deed goes unpunished (Blindspot, post ending) (There are still chapters in progress)

Change can be painful. Some people prefer to avoid it. But change is the only constant in this world and sooner or later it happens. After years of working for a government force, and fighting to stop dangerous criminals, the time for a change came to the team. After all the adrenaline rush they had felt the last couple of years, exposing their lives behind their ideals of a greater good, reinserting themselves into society in a nice and quiet life wasn’t easy to any of them. The first couple days felt like vacations, they were still processing the fact they hadn’t to live hidden anymore. They could finally rest, reconnect with their families, and recover from injuries. 

Sleep is Overrated (Blindspot, Zapatterson, 3+1)

Like every software engineer, Patterson knew two basic truths: coffee is needed to exist and sleep is overrated. She could spend entire nights awake and working, she had done it before and those had turned out to be very productive nights. Like those working on her science projects in middle school, or like when it was exam season at college. She had done it for this job before too, especially since Jane had appeared in that bag in the middle of Times Square.

Meet the Zapata's (Blindspot, Zapatterson, fake dating)

“Ok… Are you ready?” Tasha turned off the car and removed her seat belt.  “Are you sure about this?” Patterson was about to freak out, she had seen too many movies to know that it could end very well or terribly badly. “I don’t know, but I already told them you were coming and…” she leaned in to get a better look out the window next to Patterson, “they all are there in the window, watching us.”

You built your destiny (Lost, during season 5)

When Juliet saw that boy with glasses and blue eyes, she recognized in him the vivid image of Ben and panic overwhelmed her. She knew it could happen, she knew about Ben's life with the Dharma Initiative and The Others. But she had never expected to run into him face-to-face, to meet him in the cafeteria at every lunch, or have to smile at him and pretend there wasn't a whole history, with its adult version, that she longed to be able to put behind.

The betrayal (Blindspot, Zapatterson retelling) It actually starts with the dialogue from the show

“You have no idea how hard it was for me to keep that from you.” “How hard it was for you?!” she replied, facing her “I can still feel his hands on me when I try to fall asleep at night. Because before he beat me, shot me, and put a tracker device in me, he used to sleep in my bed.” She took a few steps closer to the brunette and mumbling so that only she would be able to hear, added, “You should know that more than anyone.” “I was trying to protect you,” Zapata shortened the distance between them, “I thought it would be better if you never knew he was alive.”

Some of my WIPs

Sly as a fox (Criminal Minds, Emily Whump)

Emily stared at the screen in the security room. She wasn't worried, she knew what she had to do and how to do it. The objective was to appear aloof and indifferent, this time she shouldn't seem interested in him, but in the copycat. Attack his ego through jealousy. But the last time she interrogated Karl Arnold, a mix of shame and disgust followed her for days, something she hadn't felt before, no even working for Interpol.

My weekend of love (Blindspot, Patterson x reader)

“Oh Great! What is she doing here?” Patterson sighted when she saw you in her lab. “What a warm welcome,” you replied with a smile and a scathing tone. You two didn't get along, and everyone down in the labs knew it. You joined the FBI on the same day and since then you have sought to prove yourselves better than each other, like a competition that has grown out of control. Your bosses learned over time that it was safer for everyone to keep you apart, which was ironic, cause your jobs complemented each other.

Time for some comfort (The Pitt, post shift) (Provisional title)

Dana arrived home completely drained. With her hand on the doorknob, she stared at the door, trying to process everything they’d just lived through, barely able to believe so much could happen in a single day. She gathered what little strength she had left to put on her best face before stepping inside. Benji would know it had been a rough day the moment he saw her black eye, even more if he’d caught the news, but she still intended to at least pretend she was fine. She’d already spent half her shift pretending enough to convince Perla, Princess, Mateo, Kim, and the med students. Even Abbot had bought the lie behind her smile, making him believe it was a rough shift that couldn’t get to her. Probably because Jack was doing even worse than she was.

Witness Protection (SVU, Barson) (Provisional title)

"Liv!" Fin's voice sounded far away. He screamed her name, but she wasn't able to sit and see him. There was a warm and humid feeling, along with an iche in the side of her neck. Her eyes big and filled with terror, her breath entrecortada. She laid motionless on the parking lot floor, still in shock to move.

Nightmares (Blindspot, 5+1, post ending)

It was a stormy night when Rich woke up covered in sweat. He felt short of breath and overwhelmed. He could still feel the water over his face through the old cloth. The voices of the agents from the black site known as The Boat still sounded in his ears.

Nachos already tagged most people I interact with, but there are a few writers that I love their work and I still can tag, even if we barely talk (or if I recently followed you), so no pressure tags: @storiesofsvu @ladyriot @scarletfern @baubeautyandthegeek @danasevans @blackbird-brewster @vivaciousoceans @yesifitswithyou

[princessfbi]

okey so i need some tv recs for this hiatus 911 fan overall procedure fans i guess that's all the vibe i can think of to ask lol so hit me with your recs

EXCELLENT! So glad you’ve come to me Nonnie. I am honored. This is in no particular order but in terms of general procedurals with similar 911 vibes I’ve got a couple:

1. Sirens

It’s about a paramedic team in Chicago and it’s fucking hilarious. We're talking laugh out loud can still quote it from memory hilarious. There’s two seasons and each episode is about 25 minutes so it’s easy to get through. There is a British counterpart that is also funny but it’s definitely a different tone for sure.

**If you were a fan of Arrow then you'll recognize Josh Segarra

***Also you can scream with me and @lucydonato about the show

2. ER

I always describe 911 to people as ER for first responders. Part of that is because it’s so episodic. It gets really melodramatic at times and there are a LOT of story lines but for the most part the general stakes keep to one episode at a time and the show gives you permission to let things go which is nice. I’m a fan of the earlier seasons as opposed to the later seasons but Angela Bassett is in the last season. Lots of great guest spots and very character driven.

**Characters do die in this show so be aware of MCD warnings. No one is safe in that show. Except maybe Noah Wylie but that's cus it's Noah Wylie.

3. Numb3rs

It’s an awesome crime procedural with a twist on it. The oldest brother, Don, is an FBI agent who has his baby brother, Charlie, help him solve crime using math. This show has all the tropes too. Brother relationship, found family, etc etc.

4. Psych

It’s a procedural with a much lighter tone. Shawn pretends to be psychic and solves crime. It’s chaotic and messy and wonderful and perfect.

**Gives me coming home from the pool and vegging on the couch summer vibes.

5. Castle

On the same side of the coin, it’s another procedural with a twist. Castle is a successful mystery novelist who helps solve crime. Nathan Fillion for those fans of The Rookie and there's a lot powerful female characters in it.

6. Murder, She Wrote

MSW walked so that Castle could run. This is an oldie but a good. Angela Lansbury is a mystery writer who solves crime. It’s super cool knowing that she insisted on hiring a lot of older guest stars so that they could continue to be in the union and get their benefits. Also omg the 80s/90s wardrobe. There's also a couple of episodes with other detectives and crime solvers when Angela started to get tired carrying the weight of quality television on her shoulders.

7. Drop Dead Diva

THIS is such a good law procedural. It has the added bonus as having the same casting director as 911 so you’ll see a lot of familiar faces. But Deb is a model who died and got reincarnated in the body of a plus size lawyer named Jane and it’s the most wonderful little nugget that just existed in its own space. It was SO ahead of it's time on certain issues and it deals with a variety of topics such as body shaming, slut shaming, mental health, etc in such a kind and compassionate and positive way.

**Gives me late summer 'I haven't moved from the couch and omg it's season three' vibes

8. Scorpion

A team of geniuses (with neurodivergent representation in action genre scenarios) who help solve crime and crisis situations for homeland security. Lots of found family feelings! SO MANY! Big time character driven show.

9. White Collar

A white collar criminal agrees to help solve crime with the FBI agent who arrested him. Neal is so whumpable and it's one of the few times I've seen a fandom really embrace the idea of a poly relationship in fanon? Idk I wasn't really in it but the fics I saw all seemed to agree that no one would complain if Peter, Neal, and Elizabeth all lived happily ever after with their golden retriever. NOW, I will say this is a Jeff Eastin show and he has a tendency to take the amazing female characters in the show, throw them in a blender, and then bring them back as Frankenstein's monster bride and act like he didn't just ruin their character and it drives me fucking insane. BUT those first couple of seasons are fantastic.

Ask Me for TV Recs To Get You Through Hiatus

[faneliansficaloh]

A Lifetime of Happiness

(Ch 1) (Ch 2) (Ch 3) (Ch 4) (Ch 5) (Ch 6) (Ch 7)

This is Chapter 8

Notes

----------

25 November 1817

Dear Penelope,

I attended my first Court ball last night. I found it not very different than what you will find back in England, except that I found myself missing a gigue. The fashions are of course a little different than you would see in an English ball room, but I would only make a fool of myself trying to describe them to you, as I am not well versed in fabrics, pleats and frills. But the etiquette was the same as you’d expect in any European court, which this technically is.

It was odd being at a ball after so long. I had the eyes of experience which let me see the frivolous and the romantic mixing at the helm of the ladies dresses as they twirled away. The young couples that were besotted, unaware of anything else in the world but each other, the laughing young men who do not suspect love might struck them down at any moment, if they set their eyes in the exact pair of lips that slightly part and silently, inadvertently beckon; and of course, the less honourable that are just playing games to pass the time. This, I noticed, includes some of the ladies.

The food was delicious. I dare say so far it is the one thing I have found to be much superior. I could spend my days just eating the fresh fruit and the cheese filled bread our cook bakes. It is a good thing I do not have the time and that I have to set an example. The coffee is also the best I have ever had, but I’m afraid the same cannot be said of tea. It does not agree with me to have coffee in the afternoon, it is simply not the same. There are no cobnuts to be found, either, but that is true of anywhere but Kent, I guess.

Nothing truly is the same, but that is the point of travelling, to learn and understand what is different, is it not?

Yours, Colin.

1814 – Kentish Cobnuts

The remainder of the summer and the fall went away pretty quickly. By the time they were on their way to join the Featheringtons on December, he was absolutely sure it had all been a momentary lapse. He was in fact looking forward to seeing Penelope and confirming that everything was as it had always been. He was the picture of contentment the whole way, chatting and pointing out random facts about things he would spot on the way, like an eager child.

“Oh, those are cobnut trees!” He said, excitedly “When we were little, father would bring us out here and we would forage for them. He always knew the best time so we could beat the squirrels to them.” A fond smile plastered in his face at the cherished memory “We’d fill baskets to store them and eat them through the winter. Francesca hates them when they’re green, but those were Father’s favourite. Daphne and Ben would fight for the golden ones, because we had to wait longer for them, but I love them in all their stages. It is a shame the picking season has passed already.” He ended, wistfully.

“That’s nice” Marina muttered, in a distracted tone, without looking out the window.

He recognized he must have annoyed her by talking so much for most of the trip, so he remained silent the rest of it, which was not much longer. The trees he had pointed out were an indication they had reached the Featherington grounds. He hadn’t been there in a very long time as they had never returned to pick cobnuts themselves after his father’s passing, which had been years before Archibald Featherington inherited the title and the families became more closely acquainted.

When they arrived and were let in the drawing room, they were greeted most cheerfully by Mrs and Mr Finch, who were apparently still very much enjoying their newly wed bliss, while Prudence sulked in a corner and barely acknowledged their arrival. Portia welcomed them and asked them to take a seat, while the children were taken upstairs to sleep and their belongings put away in their rooms.

The Featherington house in Kent was where the mismanagement the estate had suffered under Archibald Featherington made itself the most evident. The furniture could do with some fresh upholstery, the wallpaper in the drawing room was starting to yellow, which was not the bright citrus yellow tone Portia favoured, but the sad yellow of aged things that smell of cigar. This sad state reminded Colin that he needed to speak to Portia and offer his help as Jack Featherington had disappeared with the ill gotten funds he had swindled, and presumably left the Featherington women in financial trouble. Seen as it had been him who unmasked Jack, he felt responsible, and knowing Portia, that might be the very reason why they had been invited to join them in the first place.

Such were his thoughts when the drawing room door opened and Penelope came in. He felt a flutter in his stomach and when she smiled at him with her full poppy-red lips, the swelling in his heart did away with the notion that he was past the emotions he had been battling with since July.

“Marina, Colin! How good to see you. Did you have a pleasant trip?” She said as she closed the door behind her, the cascade of red hair swinging around the fair skin of her neck and shoulders.

“Oh, yes. Rather uneventful, really” Marina responded. Colin had remained seated and seemed to be having a headache, as he had closed his eyes and was rubbing at his forehead, with a frown, as he shifted his position on the sofa to be able to rest his head on his hand.

“Are you alright, Colin?” Of course she was truly concerned.

“My apologies, I just need some rest” He said, a little flushed and unable to look at Penelope in the eye.

“You really do not look well, Mr. Bridgerton. You should go lie down” Portia rang the bell.

“I really should. If you’ll excuse me.” As she came into the room Mrs Varley was charged with showing Mr. Bridgerton to his room.

“Has he been ill?” Penelope asked Marina

“He was perfectly fine until a minute ago. As he said, he’s probably just tired, he was talking non-stop the whole way” she said, more complaint than explanation.

“Did he tell you about the--” Penelope said, knowingly and a little excited herself, but Marina did not let her continue.

“Oh, whatever it is he must have, amongst a million other things.” She rolled her eyes “It is me who should have a headache, truly.”

Penelope did not press the matter any further, even though she felt a little slighted that Marina had not let her talk. She figured she was really tired from the trip, even if it was not a very long one from Aubrey Hall.

Colin spent the rest of the afternoon upstairs, on his own, watching the fire in his room. He was wrestling with his thoughts, trying to understand what the upheaval inside him was all about. So far he had been working under the premise that he had been confused in a heated moment.

But he was now wondering if that night, that wretched dream and all the confused thoughts that followed were really just a natural progression of something stronger that had started much, much earlier. But when? Can anyone truly ever pin point the exact moment when their feelings shift for someone?

A knock on the door startled him, but he welcomed the interruption.

“I’m sorry to disturb you, but I wanted to make sure you’re alright” It was Penelope, along with a maid who was carrying a tray. “We’ve brought you tea and biscuits.”

“Pen, you shouldn’t have troubled yourself. I’m feeling much better, thank you.”

“I’m just worried that you’re ill and will make us all sick, that is all” She joked, with a soft smile. She had a small box in her hands and showed it to him “These are for you, I’ll leave them here” she deposited the box on a table beside the door. “I’m glad you feel better, we’ll see you at dinner then.” He nodded, and she left with the maid.

After the door closed, he crossed the room to inspect the box. It was filled with cobnuts. He stood frozen in place, as if his feet were nailed to the floor, as a flood of shared memories washed over him.

Oh, it had definitely started much, much earlier indeed.

***

“Ah, Mutton! It’s been ages since we had roasted mutton!” Prudence seemed too excited, prompting her mother to giver her a scolding look.

That evening they were joined by the Dankworths, to celebrate their son Harry’s engagement to Prudence. They had met in church a couple of months back and Portia had since then been using all of her powers to ensure that Prudence did not betray all of their recent misfortunes, as unfortunately her name was only that—she was in fact anything but prudent.

“What a coincidence! Mutton is my favourite, Miss Featherington, especially roasted and with such a beautiful arrangement of vegetables to accompany it, what a delightful combination!”

Penelope was convinced that if it were left to him alone, Harry would have married Prudence not a week after they met. Nothing was more agreeable to him than a thing that pleased her and nothing more detestable than that which annoyed her, he was a newborn learning about the world through Prudence’s eyes. And even though Prudence did not show any inclination as overtly as her suitor did, Penelope could tell she was very pleased with him.

“It is really a very good roast” Colin felt compelled to note once they had started eating, since a prolonged silence seemed to have befallen the dinning room after Harry’s exultation.

“The potatoes are very good, too.” Said Marina, prompting Colin to look over at her plate, and then he noticed something that incited his curiosity.

“I thought you loved tomatoes” It seemed Marina had been taking them off the mutton and putting them aside.

“Oh. I do like them, but they make my mouth tingle and itch sometimes, so I don’t eat them.”

Penelope raised her eyes to meet his and bit her lips in to avoid laughing at him, but he felt teased and couldn’t avoid chuckling.

“The carrots are excellent” Penelope added taking a bite.

“And the peas?” Colin asked her, with journalistic interest.

“Superb, I declare!” She beamed

“Indeed!” Colin nodded, with affected seriousness. Marina rolled her eyes but neither paid any attention.

“Any comment on the beets?” Penelope asked him

He mocked deep thought “I dare say they are positively exquisite!”

“I found them scrumptious my self”

“Very well put, yes” he nodded.

Penelope was extremely glad to see that he was in good spirits and was being friendly to her again. She had noticed he had been avoiding her since their arrival, and she had assumed he was either feeling ill or was upset with her for some reason. It was such a relief to know she still had his friendship.

“It is all very good, yes, we shall commend the Cook for this wonderful meal. Thank you.” Portia put an end to the game. She didn’t have time to address whatever that was, she needed to focus on Prudence, who had already been sulking about Jack Featherington disappearing and thus abruptly ending their forced engagement. However favourably it all had turned out for them, she needed to ensure Prudence wasn’t jilted once more.

***

January was already coming to an end when Portia got truly alarmed. Of course she knew Penelope had always had a tender attachment to Colin Bridgerton, which she had tried time and again to discourage. It was simply unrealistic; the boy seemed to live in the clouds and had more attention from the ladies than he knew what to do with. There was nothing worse in her experience than a man that knew himself to be a catch – At the time she had feared that he would only waste Penelope’s time leading her on forever until he had had his fill of all the frivolous flirting and actually decided to take a wife, possibly sometime in the next twenty years.

She hadn’t had much trust that Marina’s plan of seducing him would succeed and was thus extremely surprised – and relieved – when it did. Not only were they out of the predicament they faced with the girl expecting a child under her roof, but also because finally, her daughter would be persuaded to leave her hopes behind and focus on her future. Of course she did not enjoy seeing her daughter suffer as she did when the marriage was a done thing -the poor thing tried very hard to disguise it, but it was evident to her mother. She was so young, though, Portia assumed she would move on quickly.

But now, well over a year later, much to her dismay she started to notice a very unexpected development. Penelope’s friendship with Mr. Bridgerton had only gotten stronger now that, as he liked to say half-jokingly, they were cousins, and what was even worse, he seemed to allow himself some new liberties under the guise of them being so related.

They would often carry conversations on their own, laughing at their little jokes that, frankly, weren’t even that funny. He was always looking after her, very attentive and making sure she was not left out of things, which was all very kind and good of him, but it was the lingering glances that made Portia start to pay more attention to Mr. Bridgerton’s behaviour.

Nothing untoward had occurred, of course, but that particular January morning she noticed something more. A too-pleased smile on his face accompanied his outright stare directed at an unsuspecting Penelope, who was playing with Marina’s girl on the floor of the drawing room of her own house. It was rather pathetic and she fully expected him to let out a dramatic, longing sigh at any moment – if it were any other girl, she could have laughed at him.

“Penelope, I need you here!” she had called her, trying to break the stare but not being able to think of an excuse quickly enough. And then, of course the gentleman he was went to help her get up. Was she imagining things? Could no one else see the way he stared into her face as she lifted her, quite unnecessarily close? But Marina was busy with her boy, and her other daughter and her son in law were never paying attention to anything. She crossed glances with Mrs. Varley whose alarmed face confirmed her own fears.

“What is it mama?” Portia brought her hand to her head, fidgeting with her hair

“I forget, but come, sit here with me” She positioned her so that Penelope’s back would be turned to Mr. Bridgerton while she could see him. She then started fidgeting with Penelope’s skirts. “We should get you a new wardrobe for this upcoming season”

“Weren’t we already going to do that anyway?” Her mother was acting oddly, even for her.

“Yes, but – I will let you choose whatever colours you prefer this season” She said with the softest smile she had ever given her and Penelope did not know how to feel about it. Was she dying and nobody had told her?

“Is everything alright, mama?” It was her turn to be alarmed.

“Of course it is! I only want you to have whatever you feel you need to succeed this year”

It was the look of tenderness in her mother’s eyes that really made Penelope worry. She got closer to her mother and whispered “Have we lost all our money again, mama?” Portia so far had not made any real push for her to marry, and now she was talking about her succeeding. She immediately concluded she was scheming to get her a rich husband to get them out of some new trouble.

“Why would you say that? Of course not. Believe it or not, I care for you, and only wish to see you settled and secure” And far away from Mr. Bridgerton, she would have added if not for the risk of being overheard. She nibbled on the tip of her thumb. “And perhaps we should extend your social circle, beyond your family, at least”

“Oh?” Portia gave her a significant glance, tilting her head a little bit. “Oh, Yes, I suppose I should.” It was true that she had been spending most of her time with Marina’s family since they had joined them in the country. “Can I be excused, I would like to go to my room”

“Very well”

And, of course, as Penelope left the room Colin’s gaze followed her.

“Mr. Bridgerton!” Portia called him a little too harshly.

“Yes?” He was startled and quite confused at the tone.

Portia changed her face from scolding to a more amiable smile “Are you planning on going back to Aubrey Hall before the London Season?”

“No, we will be going to London directly from here, I have business to tend to in town.” Marina gave her an intrigued look. He had never before had any business to tend to.

“Isn’t it odd that Penelope is going and you are not?” Phillipa finally uttered from the other side of the room.

“Is she?” His interest seemed a little too much sparked. Portia could see him reconsidering his visit. The one time Phillipa had paid attention to something that wasn’t about her and it had to be this.

“I’m still considering if I will let her go” Portia said. “Why, she’s my only company now that my other two are married, I may want her to stay with me. Who knows, next season she might be married as well” She said raising an eyebrow, ready to catch the slightest sign of a reaction. His frown cemented her resolution.

“I am utterly tired of being a guest in other people’s houses, I wish to be back on my own home” Marina said and Colin nodded as if to agree.

And with that, it seemed the matter was settled.

Colin and Marina did return to London the very next day, and since Penelope had been very insistent on going to Aubrey Hall with Eloise the following month and Portia thought that it would not hurt Penelope to have Lady Bridgerton’s support in the upcoming season—she would in fact need every possible advantage she could get, so she let her go with the warning that she should never be unchaperoned under any circumstances. This puzzled Penelope enormously, as she had never required a chaperone at the Bridgertons.

It did not matter. She would not let that dampen the joy she felt at the prospect of spending time with her dear friends.

Chapter 9

[autisticlancemcclain]

fic rec friday 32

welcome to the thirty-second fic rec friday! where, on friday, i rec five of my favourite fics.

1. A Dragon’s Treasure by @wittyy-name

As heir to the kingdom, Lance always thought he knew exactly what life had in store for him. That is, until a dragon kidnaps him at the age of sixteen. Suddenly his life is a lot less parties, lessons, and castles, and a hell of a lot more barren mountains, grumpy dragons, and boredom. From heir to prize, in just one night.

So now he’s stuck living in a cave with an adolescent, grumpy dragon who doesn’t seem to want him there but still won’t let him go. Not to mention his annoying habit of defeating every suitor who tries to come rescue Lance.

As much as he hates to admit it, he’s probably going to be here for a while. So he might as well settle in and get to know this dragon named Keith.

i accidentally lied last week this one is the last one from my rereadables collection. and for good reason!! dragon beauty and the beast tbh. and wittyy-name ALWAYS nails the complicated i-love-you-and-feel-trapped-by-you, complicated relationships kind of thing. and i fckn love it so so much 

2. Needle and Thread by VulpesVulpes713

Based on the prompt "kisses meant to distract the other person from whatever they were intently doing ". Keith tries to fix a tear in his jacket. Lance just wants some attention. The end result? Feelings.

this one is so cute they are so in love u know?? they just like to be around each other. always a fun read. vulpes is very good at klance with a crush on each other regardless of whether they’re already dating lol

3. Plans Are Overrated, Anyway by @chyeahlex16

"Lance, I-" "I know, I know," Lance said as he bustled around his nearly bare bedroom, tossing shirts out of drawers and pictures off of walls into his open suitcase on his bed. "I totally procrastinated till the last minute, just like you said! I don't need to hear the 'I told you so,' a little help packing would be nice!" "Lance-" "I bet you're already packed," he went on, oblivious to his best friend anxiously shifting in his doorway in frustration and anxiety. "Man, I can't wait until we get there-" "Lance! I have something to tell you!" Lance blinked, stilling his movements. He'd never seen his best friend so... guilty and anxious before. His brows pulled together in concern. "What's up, buddy?" "I'm not going to the Garrison with you." ~ In which I project onto Lance about things that I'm currently going through because I need to vent lol

HUNK AND LANCE HUNK AND LANCE HUNK AND LANCE. we do NOT have enough of it in this here fandom, ESPECIALLY prekerb, early relationship, and what a shame! i have always loved this fic’s exploration of their relationship and the ways they had to learn to grow into themselves, the starts and explanations for the way they were when we saw them. i love them

4. With These Hands by @azapofinspiration

Despite all the trouble they'd been through, Hunk figured everything had turned out all right. After all, he and Lance had managed to return to the castle!

Then Hunk sees the bruises and knows that things are not as good as he thought.

bro a-zap has always KILLED early season dynamics and their missing moments series is everything!! ive always needs three hundred percent more context on the mermaid episode and this fic provides not only that but also some excellent hunk & lance moments, with hurt/comfort that isnt imbalanced or infantilizing on either paladin’s part which is a low bar but awesome anyway 

5. Not As Clueless by @azapofinspiration

Pidge had always thought it was strange that despite being quite observant, Lance had completely missed the fact that she was a girl. However, it seems that that wasn’t really the case.

from the same series i just mentioned! lance IS observant, thank you very much, and i loved this take and interpretation. as much as lance does have a tendency to be dense about things, he also tends to be very observant bc hes a walking dichotomy. he notices things but his conclusions are often different than what others would make, and this entire concept is nailed in like 1.5k words

that’s it for today!! i’ll see y’all back next friday for the next fic rec post!!!

[thgfanfictionlibrary]

Teen and Up Rated Fics Masterlist (22)

Part 1 / Part 2 / Part 3 / Part 4 / Part 5 / Part 6 / Part 7 / Part 8 / Part 9 / Part 10 / Part 11 / Part 12 / Part 13 / Part 14 / Part 15 / Part 16 / Part 17 / Part 18 / Part 19 / Part 20 / Part 21 /

Created: March 14th, 2024

Last Checked:—-

Into that good night…-Angylinni (ao3) Summary: She couldn’t believe he was gone, that she’d never hear his voice again. Katniss prepares to say goodbye to Haymitch Isn't it strange-Brown_Eyed_Devil (ao3) Summary: “I regret it all, because those gifts were made specifically for me, nobody else could ever really understand the significance of the row of flowers by my house, or comprehend why I felt so cheated when I saw the painting of a sun rising through the valley that I have watched many a time from my rooftop, or how it breaks my heart that somehow after all this time he remembers the lyrics to The Valley Song, that was written in delicate calligraphy in a paint that seems to only appear when the sun shines directly on it, over the painting. It’s all too personal. Even the loaves of bread which I’m sure are rotting away in my kitchen, and it fills me with an overwhelming sense of guilt, shame, anger, hatred, and fear, because all these actions are so inherently Peeta, and what I’m doing is so inherently me that I can’t help but hope just a little that things are going back to normal, and that maybe one day he can forgive me for everything I’ve done.” Post-mockingjay fic, through the seasons of growing back together. Starring Buttercup. Jolly Sailors Bold-aimmyarrowshigh (ao3) Summary: When Finnick came home from his Games, he had riches -- bloody gold for bloody deeds -- and a trident. So he bought a boat, and he looked out over that horizon. Just Close Your Eyes, You’ll Be Alright-Alliswell (ao3) Summary: Prompt 154: Soulmate au where your soulmates injuries and scars show up on your body tinted in their favorite color. Katniss through the years as she discovers new marks, pondering what it could possibly be, finally figuring out that her soulmate is being hurt way too regularly and in very specific places. Do her parents figure out Peeta is being abused? How do they find and "rescue" him? Or does Peeta live his whole childhood being abused before turning 18? Does he runaway? How do he and Katniss find their way to one another? Katniss, Is That You?-Alliswell (ao3) Summary: Peeta comes home to check on his wife before Trick or Treaters arrive. Keep the Blood in Your Head-atetheredmind (ao3) Summary: AU. "Katniss Everdeen wanted him to live. She wanted him to come home. And he could do it, for her. He would. If there was anything worth fighting for now, it was her." Peeta Mellark is chosen as tribute for the 74th Hunger Games. Last Wish-Alliswell (ao3) Summary: At 17 Peeta Mellark finds himself face to face with his long time crush, Katniss Everdeen, confessing his feelings for her. But, at 18, when they think they're free from the Reaping, they end up District 12's latest Tributes. As their lives are in peril, Katniss whispers to him: "Ask me!" Will she grant him his Last Wish?. One shot ('Long' One Shot) Learn Your Song-ashyblondwaves (ao3) Summary: Modern Day AU: Katniss Everdeen had spent the last three years working at the only electronics and office supply store in District 12, and it was time once again to prepare for Christmas. The rapid changes always brought new sights, new sounds, and this year it brought Peeta Mellark — the new seasonal hire. Less of This-HGfanonezillion (ao3) Summary: Katniss wakes up from a nightmare and Peeta soothes her back to sleep. Let the Moment Seize You-Abagail_Snow (ao3) Summary: Peeta's adolescence told through a series of vignettes.

[colossal-niamh]

Just a big list of some stuff I think is neat

I haven't been super active on here in a minute so I'm just gonna lighting round a bunch of stuff I've been watching/reading X-Men '97- Fucking incredible. This is probably my favorite piece of non comic superhero media since Spectacular Spider-Man. The animation, the melodrama, the narrative showcasing the struggles of building a better tomorrow and existing in a world where your existence is perceived as a threat. Can't wait for season 2 The Crow (1994)- Wanted to get to this before the remake comes out. This is very much a situation where I procrastinated on watching something I knew I'd like and when I finally got around to it I went "Yeah I was right I liked it a lot!" The Crow is equal parts mournful as it is hopeful for a better tomorrow, a balancing act between the grief of loss and celebration of life. A damn shame we lost Brandon Lee so young because he was enthralling the entire film, an irreplaceable talent. The Venture Bros- I was making my way through the series on my own for a good while now. Showing it to some irl friends gave me the excuse to rewatch it all before I see the final season because I LOVE Venture Bros. it has firmly cemented itself as one of my favorite shows ever. I can't even get into it here or this will just become a Venture Bros gush fest. X-Terminators (2022)- Literally just read this today, what a delightful little book. it's a bit weird dropping in here as the book's smack dab in the middle of the nearly finished Krakoa era of the X-Men books. Luckily this needs little to no context as it's 4 of most fun women in the X-Men cast cracking jokes and kicking Dazzler's shitty ex in the dick. Also said ex is a literal blood sucking vampire Shin Ultraman- The last of Hideaki Anno's Shin trilogy I needed to see. Ultraman is admittedly the one I'm least familiar with out of the tokusatsu big 3, but this film made me far more interested in it than I was before. a great action flick about keeping the flame of hope lit even in dire situations. I liked all of the Shin movies but here's how I'd rank them; 1. Shin Godzilla 2. Shin Ultraman 3. Shin Kamen Rider Steven Universe- Soooo, I was one of those kids that listened to shitty criticism of SU back when it was airing and it ruined my perception of the show for years. It took until recently to realize the critics I listened to were not only bad at media analysis (and just a bad person in general) but also outright lying about the contents of the show. to rectify this mistake I've been rewatching SU and man, I was so wrong about this show. It's exceptional stylistically and narratively, and teaches some genuinely well thought out life lessons to it's target age demographic. It's not garbage, it's great! RRR- Admittedly I watched this further back than anything else on this list but that doesn't matter because YOU NEED TO SEE RRR! This movie is 3 hours of distilling the power of friendship and anti-colonial sentiment into the most Dudes Rock movie ever put to film. by the end I was screaming my head off like a crazy person for 20 minutes straight. what are you even doing here reading this? GO WATCH RRR!

[sidecharactersdomatter]

Thoughts I had during TGCF S2 Ep 12

Last Ep of S2 let’s do this!

Previously on TGCF…

-All wells that ends on the Fang Xin mystery

-“Just focus on doing what you want to do” best life advice ever

-Qingxuan really went, “They seem to be very good friends”

-He blushed!

-They laughed!

-No he will not while the laundry’s running

-That one guy is eavesdropping outside the palace

-They cannot just leave us on a cliffhanger like that!

-Dang no one should slander Hua Cheng shame on them

-Another facepalm!

-It was 3 days?!!!

-That one god got frightened once he saw FX covered in blood, and meanwhile Mu Qing just smirked

-The temple massaging was a dead sign

-More Hua Cheng Slander

-Mu Qing’s opinion

-I really love the music that was played from S1 EP 4

-Pei Ming was responsible for this month’s security

-I wonder why Prosecutor Pei Ming left his guard down?

-Mu Qing’s smirk

-Xianle won’t be banished!

-That was it, the security was getting tighter

-Ugh the Xie Lian slander

-Meanwhile, in Jun Wu’s study…

-That was a lot of paused frames to transition from the recap of eps 7-11

-He’ll probably try to reason with Lang Qianqiu

-That’s what we’d like to know and the answer’s been given by Jun Wu

-Instrumental Bu San seems to be Jun Wu’s main theme

-Jun Wu had a spy… or did he?

-There’s a mole in Heaven

-He’s tightening the security because of Hua Cheng

-He switched from calling him San Lang to Hua Cheng!

-There’s security tape outside his palace

-Xianle’s heyday in his childhood!

-His mother

-The nostalgia’s made him wistful 

-Oh he’s running now

-Qi Rong and Qianqiu’s words are ringing in his mind

-He’s picked up speed

-His breakdown!

-He jumped!!!

-So that’s how he gets down to mortal realm!!!

-That graceful landing

-It’s autumn

-So many young disciples

-HE WAS SO YOUNG AND INNOCENT!!!!!!!!

-XL’s mother is a huge inspiration to the many parents of my OCs

-It was a flashback 800 years ago!

-His sword

-HIs robe is gonna need a quick stitch up!

-It took him all day

-Literally those chipmunk squirrel hybrids

Squirrel 1: Well they were right here a second ago, and now they’re gone!

Stuffed! Squirrel 2: Yeah, that’s pretty weird huh?

Squirrel 1: So you’re telling me you didn’t eat ‘em, and you have NO IDEA WHERE THEY ARE!

Squirrel 2: Uh-uh

*Xie Lian Enters and both Squirrels book it, the 2nd squirrel spits out the nuts*

Squirrel 1: AAAAAH!!! Run away!  I knew you ate them!

This dialogue was from Brother Bear, I really felt like including it in the reaction when. I saw both squirrels and I prolly don’t have plans to watch said movie right now

-It’s a dilapidated temple

-The place is in ruins

-A well!

-The animators really deserve a raise for animating XL entering the well

-A secret entrance!

-It’s the tunnels of lake Laogai in Book 2 earth

-He can firebend!!!

-It’s the star map ceiling from Wan Shi Tong’s library, I really love spotting all the Last Airbender references

-The tombs, *gasps* they’re his parents’ tombs!

-He has been through a lot

-This is similar to the altars at my relatives’ homes

-That noise!

-It sounds like crying

-Baby Guzi!!!

-Oh no and you’re not supposed to shake and shout and children!

-Did anyone else get chills when the weird music played when he looked into the tomb of dust?

-Oh no!

-The statue moved and Qi Rong’s leitmotif

-That was close!!!

-His mask and royal robes

-Baby Guzi!

-His father!

-He possed Guzi’s Dad

-Nobody else rescued the child when they fled Qi Rong’s domain?!?!

-Damn

-His eyes are turning red!

-Masochist

-Worst family reunion I’ve seen

-And you’re not supposed to traumatize children

-Baby Guzi’s in tears!

-Those words still stung

-The flashbacks!

-Ban Yue’s voice!

-Young Lang Qianqiu!

-An Le!

-Recapping Seasons 1 & 2

-His shrine!

-Xianle has fallen

-The soldier

-The child he saved

-Move over J Michael Tatum, no offense to his fans really sry

-They cannot jut leave us on a cliffhanger like that!!!

And that was TGCF Season 2! *Casually prepares shrine and starts praying for the short film, eventual movie, and Seasons 3-8*  What really carried this season was Junior Official Xiao Mengyou, Lang Qianqiu’s whole impact, Shi Qingxuan slaying, Jun Wu’s Emperussy, Prosecutor Pei Ming, Yin Yu’s debut, Hua Cheng being the goat all thanks to James Cheek, Fengqing conflict, Feng Xin being the himbo, Lucien Dodge eating it up as Mu Qing, Qi Rong being this season’s freak, Guzi being Babey, and Howard Wang eating it up as Xie Lian especially in Episodes 6 and 10-12.  That was all for this summer’s reactions.  I am going to be bust this fall with sketching and mainly writing after class so, See you next time! The Scrap Immortal and the Avatar is set to start in January 2025!