#maybe in season 1 but otherwise I don’t think so

[threeacttragedy]

Entry 18: The One Where Two Roads Diverged in a Wood of GIFs and Written Words

“Lukola Crisis Hotline. How may I be of service?”

Me: Houston, we have a problem.

Dad: Do tell!

Me: You won’t believe who showed up last night! –

Dad: Oh, my goodness! Oh, my goodness! Whoa! I don’t know what to say! Wait – let me grab my Coke and my smokes. <waiting> Okay, I’m back. So, Misty appeared out of nowhere with Thang?! Well, this just got fun! <laughing>

For clarity’s sake, my father tends to give everyone a pet name. Some of the pet names are funny; some are quite cruel. But if they help him remember who the players are in this fandom (and in any other situation), I’m game to play along. Plus, his pet names tend to add a little comedy relief to whatever is being discussed, especially when it is not an outwardly funny subject.

In Lukola-Land, Luke is “Thang” (it’s actually “Thing” – as in the hand from The Addams Family – but my dad’s accent muddles the pronunciation into “Thang”); Nicola is “Ireland,” for obvious reasons; Antonia is “Misty,” for, umm, the Clint Eastwood movie, “Play Misty for Me;” and Jake is – well, Jake is actually just “Jake” because my father finds the USS Jakola offensive. In fact, when I was discussing the recent fandom events with him on Friday evening, my dad was genuinely shocked to learn the Jakolas still existed. His pet name for the Jakolas is “Fucking Stupid,” by the way.

Moving on to the matter at hand –

There’s been so much “noise” over the past few weeks that, when taken collectively, it is rather eye-opening. We’ve got Luke’s mother posting on Facebook about “Luke’s girlfriend…from Cyprus.” The leaked funeral video and photos (by allegedly Luke’s family). The Best in Show pap pictures of Nicola and Jake. The “just friends” interview. The disappearance of Jake (because he’s rehearsing for a play) and the sudden reemergence of Antonia.

If you’ve noticed from my recent entries on this blog, I have obviously found most of what has happened of late to be comical and not worth putting into written word. Instead, my thoughts have been dumped into GIF stories. To be honest, I was rather disappointed I couldn’t put this last part – Antonia emerging from the misty edges of the forest – entirely into a GIF story. Her reappearance was like a certain Bond villain coming back to life for the seventh time. In other words, it was total cringe. But it also altered an otherwise slow burning campfire into a motherfucking forest fire.

Me: Thoughts?

Dad: I need some time to think about this one – and a cigarette. Or two. Call me back in 15 minutes.

“Psychotic Fan Rescue Center, at your service.”

Me: You’re a dumbass.

Dad: <laughing> Well, this is insane. It makes no sense and it’s a convoluted mess. Why bring Misty back? She was killed off two seasons ago.

Me: No shit, Sherlock.

Dad: Hell, maybe this has all been a nest of vipers.

A nest of vipers? Ah, yes, the idea that we have a group of venomous snakes thrown into the same close-quartered trench – in an every-man-for-himself type situation – each taking strikes at the others whenever their backs are turned.

In Entries 1, 13, and 15 – with an emphasis on “Entry 13: The One Where the Ashes Blew Towards Us with the Salt Wind from the Sea” – I wrote about what the Lutonia narrative could look like, if real. I will not rehash in detail those entries here, but I will link them at the end of this entry if you want to read, or reread, them.

Now, the General Audience almost certainly didn’t pay a lick of attention to Antonia when she appeared alongside Luke at the Boss event held January 30 (she’s always just been a Face in the Crowd). But the sudden reappearance of Antonia stopped the Lukolas dead in their tracks because – like my dad said – she was seemingly killed off two seasons ago.

The Lukolas have suddenly found themselves at an intersection of confusion and, likely, a bit of distress. The long and winding road we’ve been traveling along has diverged into two paths – and, no, you cannot travel both.

The problem with the Lutonia narrative has always been that Luke has never formally acknowledged Antonia as his girlfriend. In fact, Luke had the perfect opportunity to do so when he posted about the Boss event on his Instagram grid – but he did not. I could rationalize the idea that Luke and Antonia wanted to keep their relationship private after the Papsmear misstep if it weren’t for the fact that Antonia has been historically loud in her social media posts. We spent the summer and fall with insinuation post after insinuation post from Antonia. Yes, all those posts that alluded to her being with Luke without any actual evidence that she was, in fact, with Luke. By the time Antonia got to “Pasta-gate” in mid-November, the Lukola fandom barely even blinked before dismissing her as, well, the antagonist from “Play Misty for Me.” And this leads to something even more problematic for the USS Lutonia – Luke has never rescued Antonia from being ridiculed and torn apart by the fandom. My dad would call – and has called – Luke a cad for this.

Jumping to the other side of this misshapen triangle, we have Nicola and her Assassin (my dad’s pet name for JVN). Assuming Lutonia is real, the only logical answer for Nicola’s behavior is that she has spent months trolling Luke, Antonia, and <gasp> the fandom. Nicola herself has admitted to being chronically online and, at a minimum, being aware of fan edits – so much so that during the London premiere she commented that she and Luke “can’t do anything” without the fandom reacting to it. Therefore, I will call “foul” on anyone who tries to persuade me that Nicola was unaware of, at a minimum, how the Lukola fandom had reacted to the Claddagh ring, Chaos Week, and the October airplane posts. JVN openly mocking Antonia on social media with, for example, their Slick Back Bun routine only added fuel to this fire.

For shits and giggles – and so I can get to the bend in this road – we will roll with my dad’s “Nest of Vipers” theory for a moment. We will concede that Lutonia is real, which, in my opinion, makes Luke the absolute worst boyfriend in London and Antonia a woman who doesn’t mind being treated like roadkill. It also, unfortunately, makes Nicola and Fan Favorite JVN come off like online bullies – with the only plausible reasoning for the bullying being that Luke and Nicola are at odds with each other. No, I take that back – they’re not at odds with each other – they’re seemingly at war with each other. I’ll even amp this up a bit and throw in the suggestion that, assuming Lutonia is real, Netflix & Co. is aware of the strife between its two Polin actors and are protecting their asset with blurred Polin-Lukola posts to pacify the fandom. Dun-Dun-DUNN! And yes! That was a sly nod to Jake.

Me: Thanks for that. You just made Luke into an absolute prick and gave Antonia’s starring role in “Play Misty for Me” to Nicola.

Dad: Hey, I’m not the one who dug up Misty! That was all Thang!

Me: Then why does everyone say Luke is the nicest person? Nicola, his co-stars –  

Dad: All lies.

Me: Would you STOP?!

Dad: But I’m serious! Thang could be a complete pig behind closed doors and Ireland could be on the verge of a psychotic meltdown because, uhh, maybe she’s obsessed with Thang and pissed he chose Misty.

The unfortunate thing about this Nest of Vipers theory is that I could almost certainly make a convincing argument that it was legit. I’ve always joked with my Inner Circle of Lukolas that no one wants to see me go rogue, especially not – I’ll bite my tongue on that one. But I will emphasize the importance of keeping an open mind when you’re reviewing information. Always consider both sides of the coin. That said, it’s hard to ignore the evidence that was presented to us through the World Tour interviews and behind-the-scenes footage; therefore –

Me: I’m having a hard time believing Luke is someone who wouldn’t protect his girlfriend. He seems to support Nicola online quite a bit. Why wouldn’t he do the same for Antonia?

Dad: <laughing> Fine. Antonia isn’t his girlfriend. Maybe it’s all just a bunch of fuckery like I’ve always said.

“Fuckery” is my dad’s pet name for PR bullshit. If you didn’t pick up on it in previous entries, I am not fond of PR theories. But I also cannot ignore that PR relationships do exist and have for decades (hell, we could go back centuries and find examples of PR relationships across multiple noble and royal families – think about that, naysayers). It was my dad who first sold me on the possibility of Antonia being PR. So, I will consider this road to PR-ville in the same manner as I did the Nest of Vipers theory – with this PR theory having perhaps the better claim.

I mentioned earlier that the General Audience almost certainly paid little attention to Antonia’s existence at the Boss event. Although some people may find what I’m about to say a bit unkind, it doesn’t make it any less valid (and I’m not saying it to be cruel): Antonia, in the overall scheme of things, is of very little importance to the General Audience. She has less than 15 thousand followers on Instagram, even after being connected to a man who has almost three million. However, oddly enough, that didn’t prevent the Daily Mail from dropping a story which predominantly focused on Antonia within the same timeframe that images from the Boss event were being dropped on the Internet. It also didn’t prevent video footage of Luke and Antonia at the Boss event from being leaked online almost immediately – even when there were undoubtedly more famous celebrities attending the event. I’ll be realistic with this next comment, too: Luke may be relevant to the Bridgerton fandom, but that does not mean he is significant to, say, People Magazine’s average reader. So, why the sudden burst of publicity at this event?

I waited to write this entry to see what Luke did with the exposure from the Boss event. Would he finally put Antonia on his Instagram grid? Would he put her in his Instagram stories? Would Antonia post pictures from the event on her Instagram grid or stories? Would Luke unambiguously acknowledge a relationship with Antonia?

Although Luke posted to his Instagram grid and stories about the event, he did not include Antonia – at least not directly. The closest he came to including Antonia was via an Instagram story – on which he did not tag her – of a black screen with a link to a Boss TikTok that included images of Luke and Antonia from the event. The TikTok did not tag Antonia either. Luke did not post Antonia’s image to his grid or his stories.

And Antonia didn’t post about the event at all.

I wasn’t sold on a PR narrative when I started writing this entry, but my eyebrows raised when I saw Luke’s “black screen” Instagram story. This was either Luke attempting to circumvent the Lutonia narrative while throwing Antonia a bone, or it was Luke being an absolute douche of a human being. And, if it’s the latter, Mr. Newton needs to check himself into Assholes Anonymous.

I will concede that a couple of mutuals put up a few stories about the event (which disappeared after 24 hours) and Boss included (and tagged) Luke and Antonia in an Instagram and TikTok reel – without formally identifying Antonia as Luke’s girlfriend. On a side note, Luke could have reposted either of these reels – which tagged Antonia – but he did not. Luke also did not like this Boss Instagram reel with Antonia in it (and he does not have a public TikTok account), but Luke did like a separate Boss post of him and David Beckham (without Antonia). The only news outlets that called Antonia Luke’s “girlfriend” were rag-mags like the Daily Mail and Hello, both of which put an emphasis on Antonia. Digital Spy noted that Luke and Antonia “have yet to officially confirm their relationship.” So outside of some tagged reels (that weren’t reposted or acknowledged by Luke) and rag-mag speculation, what did Antonia get from this?

Dad: Publicity.

A single word but one that resonates throughout an otherwise silent wood.

But to be honest, I’m not entirely convinced this was for publicity. I’m not saying I believe Antonia is Luke’s girlfriend either – that’s a whole cauldron of contradictions on its own. I’m simply intrigued that Antonia has her Instagram tags turned off and she has not yet allowed any Boss event tags to appear on her page. So, outside of some junky rag-mag callouts and a few TikToks, what benefit did Antonia receive? And, if Antonia didn’t truly benefit from this appearance (or, at least she doesn’t appear to be reaping the rewards from a girlfriend or PR standpoint), who did benefit?

I mentioned at the beginning of this post that a series of events had happened one after the other over a relatively short two-week period: (1) Luke’s mum mentioning “Luke’s girlfriend…from Cyprus” in a Facebook response; (2) leaked video and photos of Luke from a funeral; (3) those utterly ridiculous pap pictures of Nicola and Jake; (4) Nicola stating she and Luke were “just friends” in an interview; and (5) the sudden summoning of Antonia after exactly six months of being MIA.

As I sat here writing out the events of the past two weeks – and considering the reappearance of Antonia – I couldn’t help but speculate as to whether each of these events was meant to have a specific purpose that didn’t get its desired result.

The comment by Luke’s mother was so far out in left field, most Lukolas chucked it up to being suspicious and dismissed it as such. The funeral pictures and video released by one of Luke’s family members was quickly scrubbed from social media; therefore, just as quickly ignored. The pap pictures of Nicola and Jake were openly mocked across social media as being staged. The “just friends” comment – after almost a year of, particularly, Nicola dodging that phrase – didn’t seem to send many Lukolas overboard. Is it possible that the fandom’s mild reaction to all these events wasn’t anticipated? Which leads me to wonder if Luke and Nicola wanted a reaction and realized the only way they were going to get it was to play the only card they had left – Antonia.  

When you look at the above referenced events individually and collectively, they appear to indicate a push to shut down the Lukola narrative. Why?

They could have shut down the Lukolas before the World Tour even took off. They could have shut down the Lukolas during the World Tour. They could have shut down the Lukolas after Papsmear. Why wait almost a full year to draw the line in the sand? Especially after every devoted Lukola would argue that (mostly) Nicola has left a trail of Swiftie-like clues to insinuate Lukola is real, and that Luke has made a visible effort to remove Antonia from his narrative.

Whatever the reasoning may be, we must admit Antonia’s reappearance had a purpose – and one that we need to respect. I have a hard time believing Luke would voluntarily step in the same pile of dog shit he stepped in back in June without a valid and significant reason for doing so.

And this is where I will draw the line.

I will not speculate further about why Antonia suddenly rose from the ashes of Manderley – and I will not tell you which road to take from here. That’s something you need to do on your own but, be warned that regardless of which road you choose – the one where you conclude Luke and Antonia are a couple, or the one where you decide Antonia is playing the role of PR distraction – the Lukolas are currently fighting a losing battle.

The Lukolas have become collateral damage. They’ve either been caught in the crossfire of an online war between Luke and Nicola (and their respective sidekicks) over, presumably, Antonia; or they’re the unwitting victims of some messy PR bullshit that has resulted in Lukolas being bullied across every social media platform by rabid Jakolas and Anti-Lukes.

Amazingly, though, many Lukolas remain resilient.

When the going gets tough…

But sometimes the tough don’t get going.

Yesterday, someone wrote to me, “Why are we still here? Just when we think something good is finally going to happen we get pushed back down. I’m tired of the dumb games.”

I rarely answer “Asks,” but my response to this comment is:

“Two roads diverged in a wood…”

Two roads.

One road is quite disheartening and the other is shrouded in underbrush.

But what you've overlooked is that there is an alternate path – a third road – the one that brought you to this point.

Turn around.

That road takes you back home – and, if you’re ready to go home, go home. It’s okay. It takes an unbelievable amount of courage to admit you’ve had enough. Remember that saying – “A wise woman once said, ‘fuck this shit,’ and she lived happily ever after.”

Take your time and decide what makes the most sense to you.

Dad: What are you thinking?

Me: Of a poem.

Dad: Oh, which one today?

Me: “Two roads diverged in a wood, and I – I took the one less traveled by…”

Dad: Which road is that…?

P.S. Just for a bit of comic relief at the end of an otherwise somber post (not even Dad could make it lighthearted), I just wanted to say:

I love eating grapes.

IYKYK.

Those links I promised:

[bourbonificould]

in every TWDG season, assuming you’re on the protagonist’s side, how long do you think you’d last and how would you survive/die?

Alright so this is throwing my 20 year old self in lmao. I generally think im not dumb enough to make certain mistakes, but my luck would definitely catch up to me.

Season 1: Ep4 - Around Every Corner or Ep5 - No Time Left. I think I’d die in Crawford, the herd would probably get me or I’d die for the plot in Ep5. Probably taking one of the Kenny “deaths.”

Season 2: Ep2 - A House Divided or Ep4 - Amid The Ruins. Carver has no idea who I am. There’s probably no incentive for him and he’d pick up either me or Walter. In Ep4, The Russians prolly would’ve got me lmao.

Season 3: Ep5 - From The Gallows. In the mess of the herd and battle, I’d probably catch a bullet or maybe I’d get lucky enough to be with the group the entire time, of which I’d probably go after Gabe and David (I assumed the herd was worse in Richmond at first lol). I might survive that.

Season 4: Ep3 - Broken Toys. I think I’d get brutally beaten on the boat. Considering placement, I’d probably be in the same cell as Louis/Violet, and both of them are in the mud. Trying to get the Delta guards to stop would get me like whooped or something worse. If I made it to Ep4, I think I’d be just fine by that point, since I’d just have to get on the cart safely.

[cinnbar-bun]

Watching Reality TV With You (Various One Piece Characters x Reader)

Characters: Zoro, Sanji, Trafalgar Law, Luffy, Perona + Mihawk, Nami, Kizaru/Borsalino, Eustass Kidd

A/n: Sorry I’m a huge fan of Real Housewives so take these silly headcanons!!!

Note: GN reader, the relationships with the character(s) and reader can be seen as platonic/romantic depending on what you prefer :) Mihawk + Perona’s relationship to each other is also not stated just for your personal preference. These are all just very silly things, don’t take this too seriously since it’s crack!

Zoro

“The hell? Why are you watching this crap? It’s not even real!”

He just sighs and grumbles about how this is dumb the whoooooole time.

Tends to sharpen his swords or try and nap while it’s on.

Until lowkey he starts peeking a bit like ‘did she just say that?’

Suddenly has opinions on it and tries to deny he’s interested but his eyes are GLUED once they start arguing and the suspenseful music is playing.

“Well, if I was her, I think I’d just kick them. Or maybe cut their car in half.”

Sanji

Opposite of Zoro. The man is probably a bigger fan than you and most likely is reading the gossip online.

It’s your weekly night hangout where he brings snacks and cozy blankets for you two to sit and enjoy while watching.

Gasps audibly and loudly.

He’s both the best and worst to talk about this with because he respects all women and he forgives them for everything, so they all get passes from him.

“Yes she may have talked badly about [name] and stole [name]’s house and maybe crashed a car. But we all do that. We need to show forgiveness. She’s having a tough time- her dress came in the wrong color.”

Law

Like Zoro, he’s very disturbed by the very prospect of reality tv.

But he’ll try. Let it be known he’s trying.

He doesn’t get interested in it but he does try to follow along so he can discuss it with you.

Not gonna lie though he’s the guy who’s focusing on their plastic surgery or illnesses.

Will literally pause the show just to examine what they may/may not have done and if the surgeon botched it up.

Imma just manifest this, he’s prolly a Terry Dubrow stan.

“Who’s your favorite Housewife so far?” “Terry.” “But… Terry isn’t-“ “It’s Terry.”

Unironically would drop a horrible quote from whichever show you’ve been watching and he’d say it so seriously that everyone’s jaw will drop and it takes him a sec for him to realize what he said.

Luffy

Imma keep this short for you- he ain’t looking.

He ain’t caring.

No thoughts.

He only cares when there’s a party and food is being served.

“Woooooah! Look at all that food!!!”

Doesn’t even recognize who is who and will just mindlessly wait for food to come on screen.

Perona + Mihawk

I’m putting this as a two for one they’re my everything <3

You and Perona are the ones who watch it lots. Perona does complain about how much they argue but she loooooves looking at the houses and clothes of the women. Makes comments about wanting to fly first class or visit the beautiful places they go to.

Mihawk is reading.

Perona is biased as hell and only defends the people that are wearing cute clothes. Otherwise? Shit list.

“Ugh! What is that dress?! It’s so hideous!” “Is that all you’re focusing on?” “I agree with (Y/n), Perona, she just had gotten into some relationship troubles with [name], so I think [name] is wrong.”

You and Perona are gasping and shocked that Mihawk 1) talked and 2) had an opinion on this???

Turns out the man had been listening the whole time (he’s quite the multitasker).

If Perona is the most biased viewer, Mihawk tries to remain objective and impartial. He's always listing out the nuances of a conversation.

“I think [name] is just jealous.” “Well, if we remember in season 4, episode 14-“

He’s a smart ass sometimes, but it’s okay, he’s our smart ass.

Perona is always enthusiastic about marathoning the shows again and watching it. She tends to do dress up requirements for watching it.

Nami

I’d hesitate to call Nami a “fan” of reality shows.

She’s aware of them, yes. Does she particularly care for it? Nah, not really.

They’re more background noise and eye candy for her.

She just likes putting them on and glancing every once in a while to gaze at the beautiful houses and trips.

“Oh that’s so expensive… imagine what you could do with all that!”

Sometimes has a fun game for herself to estimate the cost of an outfit, accessory, or house. It’s scary how accurate and detailed she can get with it.

Tends to mostly focus on fashion and get new ideas to steal- I mean, incorporate.

Doesn’t have strong opinions on the cast, but she isn’t too crazy about the louder members.

Kizaru/Borsalino

He’s heard of it, he thinks.

And, well, since you’re so into them, he’ll give it a watch.

“Oh my, these ladies are incredibly wealthy and beautiful.”

He’s not even ogling them he’s just amazed at the way they dress, behave, and/or decorate their spaces. It’s almost like being starstruck???

The guy who will pause the tv at certain scenes to point at random decorations or outfits and be like “darling, would you like that?”

He does get sad when they start to fight.

“Aw… I was just liking the party… why are they arguing now?”

His favorite cast member is your favorite one <3 he’s just a cheerleader like that, dear.

He could listen to you talk about it for hours if you wanted, and he’d be amazed by your knowledge.

“You know, if you’d like for me to have you be on a show like this, I could probably pull some strings!”

Kidd

1000000x worse than Zoro

I cannot recommend putting it on in front of him.

“The hell is this shit?! Turn it off!”

You refuse and now he’s stuck watching grown women argue over dumb things (in his mind).

Complains the ENTIIIIRRRRE time. Nonstop commenting and complaining.

Okay but he’s hooked after a bit, the drama is just too good.

But now he’s WORSE cuz he’s got OPINIONS and THEYRE ALL SHITTY!

This man is an instigator. I swear to god he’s just saying shit just to rile you up and be contrarian.

He's stanning the biggest menaces on the show.

You two will probably get into (very silly) arguments about some of the situations and people.

And unlike say, Sanji, who tries to defend a person, Eustass will just say you’re wrong and then add something unhinged to it.

“Naw you just don’t get it. If I was her, personally, I think I’d just burn their mansion down and then slash their tires.”

[apoloadonisandnarcissus]

"The Last Temptation": One Megathread to Rule Them All - Clues and Speculation, PART 3

9) How will Sauron prove his love for Galadriel?

We are back, and we are cracking the code here, we are cooking, and I want to thank @justacynicalromantic; @pearlstomyeyes and @historical-romances9, for their ideas, and with whom I wholesome agree. And there's foreshadowing to back it up.

In both Part 1 and Part 2, we already discussed some crucial points leading to “The Last Temptation” scene: (1) Sauron in love with Galadriel, (2) Galadriel having conflicted feelings for him in return and (3) her seek him out alone at the finale, and how the director of the finale, Charlotte Brändström teased on “X-Ray Vision” podcast:

I think Sauron even really loves Galadriel and you see that at the very end. 

The season seems to be building towards: 

Against all warnings, Galadriel will seek out Sauron alone at the finale; 

She’s ready to sacrifice herself (based on the visions of Nenya in 2x04, my bet is that Galadriel knows she’ll die in her duel with Sauron, but will go to fight him anyway);

She’ll 100% want to destroy Sauron, and there is no doubt in her mind (especially after seeing first-hand what he did to Celebrimbor, in 2x07).

Sauron will somehow prove he really loves Galadriel (to both her, and the audience).

The question is: how?

As I’ve mentioned on Part 2 of this megathread, I don’t think visions alone are enough to put this point across, because Sauron will always look/sound manipulative by showing Galadriel visions of Halbrand/“what could have been”/or whatever.

He can show her all the same, but I don’t think that will be *the* proof that he truly loves her, and that everything they shared before (when she believed him to be “just Halbrand”) wasn’t a deception on his part. 

Morgoth’s iron crown isn’t only a means to lure Sauron out or to used as a mere "sword", as we’ve seen on the trailers. And, as I’ve discussed in Part 2, my bet is Galadriel will try to test Adar’s theory that Morgoth’s iron crown + Nenya can destroy Sauron for good.

From this “Behind the Scenes” teaser, we know that Galadriel will get Nenya back, and has it during her fight with Sauron in 2x08. 

I already talked about this being Galadriel’s plan in Part 2, but I will develop it here. With that being said, and as @justacynicalromantic so brilliantly observed, Morgoth’s iron crown is not a MacGuffin, but the Chekhov’s gun of the plot. The iron crown is a very powerful object, infused with Dark magic (maybe Blood Magic even) who has the power to destroy Sauron’s physical form, as we’ve seen in 2x01.  

Now, prepare for strangeness and to be mind-blown because Morgoth's Iron crown is fatally wounding someone at the finale (coming full circle). And there will be some healing involved, to save this character’s life. Now, this sounds out of “Star Wars” (and I'm not sure if I’m a huge fan of this myself), but stay with me.  

In 2x04, we already saw that Nenya has powerful healing properties, when Galadriel saves Camnir from a fatal Orc arrow wound, before heading to fight the Orcs alone, and allowing Elrond & co. to escape back to Lindon and warn Gil-galad the Orc legions are marching towards Eregion.  

(This screenshot looks terrible because I had to up the brightness otherwise, we wouldn’t see anything).

We have two possible scenarios here: 

Either Galadriel stabs Sauron with the iron crown, regrets it, and heals Sauron; 

Or Galadriel accidentally scratches/stabs herself or Sauron does, with Morgoth’s iron crown during the fight, and is dying, but she’s healed by Sauron (hence proving his love for her). 

My main problem with being Sauron getting stabbed in this scenario: (1) we already saw that happening; and (2) it wouldn’t prove to the audience and to Galadriel that he’s actually in love with her. And I do believe Galadriel’s mindset going into this fight will be to destroy Sauron, and so I don’t see her regretting stabbing him, nor leaving him for dead.

My bet: Galadriel is the one who gets fatally wounded by Morgoth's Iron Crown.

This season, there’s already been a female character dying of poisoning by an Orc arrow (R.I.P. Bronwyn). And as Arondir explains to the audience, in 2x03, Orc arrows have a foul substance the flesh doesn’t forget (couldn’t find the actual quote). So: can this be foreshadowing?  

With Orc arrows the poison is slower (Bronwyn didn’t die right away), but what of Morgoth’s very crown? The Dark magic on it it’s 10000 times stronger. Meaning, a mere scratch can be enough to be fatal, even to an Elf. So, I can definitely see this mirroring Frodo’s Morgul wound from the “Fellowship of the Ring”, leaving Galadriel at the brink of death. 

Now, will Nenya come into play in this scenario?

I think it can go both ways, really. Because Sauron is a powerful Dark sorcerer on his own and he’s a servant of Morgoth, so he doesn’t exactly need Nenya to save Galadriel’s life. But maybe he’ll have to use it? The magic on the crown can be so strong, that Nenya’s power might have to come to the rescue (meaning Nenya's healing powers in 2x04 are also foreshadowing to this scene).

This would make Galadriel “touch the darkness” for real, because with Frodo the wound from the Morgul-blade never fully healed throughout the years. So what will happen to Galadriel if she does get stabbed by Morgoth’s iron crown, and is healed by Sauron himself? Unless the power of Nenya acts as counterbalance to this.

Can Elrond’s choice come into play in this scenario, as well? 

If Elrond isn't forced to make this choice in 2x07, I think this scene will be it (especially since fans have already noticed "Elrond’s theme" on the "Last Temptation theme").

Elrond can witness Galadriel get wounded by Morgoth’s Iron Crown and falling down, and have to face the choice between saving her life or stopping Sauron (in the future), just like he promised her in 2x04. And, in this scenario, he would eventually choose to save the Elves, and leave Galadriel for dead.

Where do we go from here? 

As I’ve already speculated in Part 2, I think Galadriel’s true feelings for Sauron will either be: (1) explicit portraited or (2) highly implied in this scene, and that’s why Magda Walma aka “the Polish reviewer” believes that Celeborn won’t ever in “Rings of Power” (he will, but I’m betting no earlier than Season 4 or even Season 5, to help Galadriel heal from all of this).

In this scenario, I can only see two possible outcomes, really: 

Either Galadriel willingly goes with Sauron at the end; 

Sauron goes away by himself, and leaves Galadriel behind, unarmed and saved (further proving his love for her). 

Either way, and even if these theories aren’t true, I think it’s safe to say we can expect an insane and highly emotional scene between Sauron and Galadriel at the finale. I don’t believe for a second, she’ll outright resist him again. It’s not what the season has been building up towards.

[im-sleepdeprived]

Seasonal • Pt. 1

pairing: peter parker x reader

summary: inspired by the taylor swift song ‘peter’, you’ve known peter parker pretty much your whole life but after an incident one evening, you two become closer than ever

a/n: ahhhhh here is the long awaited ‘Peter’ inspired fic !!! (i changed the name obvs but you’ll get why i chose this one later) this is actually pretty slow (in my opinion, compared to what’s to come duh) but its cute and I really enjoyed writing it, i hope you guys enjoy reading. also TOTALLY feel free to tell me what you think and what you might like to see !! i always love some feedback

warnings: awkward teens lmfao (they’re such cutie pies), there’s some mention of injuries, but dw I made it funny, mostly building up for what’s to come later, fluff (for now lol) !!

masterlist, requests are open !!

There were few certainties in life. Tuesday followed Monday, Five plus five equals ten, and you had no shot in hell with Peter Parker. 

You’d known each other for most of your lives, going to the same schools, and growing up in the same neighborhoods, until eventually, sometime around the start of freshman year, he and his Aunt moved into your apartment building. 

You still remembered the excitement your little teen self had felt as you’d watched them move their things in. You remembered thinking his aunt looked like the sweetest woman in the world. And Peter…well he looked like the sweetestboy in your world. The boy of your dreams. 

Dreams you always kept to yourself of course. 

Dreams that suddenly, didn’t feel so far away, and for once in your life you felt like maybe, just maybe, you had the tiniest shot at having something with him. Something real. 

It all started one day after school. 

You’d had a long day. Longer than usual. 

Classes had been tough with exams coming up and you were stressed out from all the notes you had to make sure you had, to the homework that needed to be done, to the piles upon piles of books you needed to read, study, and memorize parts of. It was a lot. 

So, naturally, you weren’t really aware of your surroundings as you were walking home that evening. You’d been cramming in the library and you hadn’t realized how late it had gotten, but of course, that didn’t stop you from continuing your studying on the way home. With a book in hand, you made your way through the streets.

Of course, it was New York. So, of course, that wouldn’t fly. Faster than you could blink, someone had grabbed your bag and was running off. you stood there, mouth gaping. Fuck, your keys were in there and your parents weren’t home. How the hell were you going to-

“Here you go ma’am, sorry about him, he has daddy issues,” Spider-Man said to you with a wave of his hands. Spider-Man. You didn’t reply at first. 

“Y’know, you should be more of your surroundings,” he said gently this time. “Maybe put the book away for now? I don’t know, just a suggestion.” He absentmindedly rubbed the back of his neck and shrugged slightly. 

You’d know that voice anywhere. It was the voice you daydreamed about, the voice you heard across the hall, the voice you’d been hearing basically all your life. But that action, that little quirk, confirmed everything you were just thinking. 

“Peter?”

“WHAT?” The white eyes of his mask were blown wide. “No. Nuh-uh, I don’t even know anyone named Peter. Sounds like a douchey name if you ask me.”

You would’ve laughed if you weren’t so shocked. “Peter I know what you sound like,” your voice was soft so no one around you could hear. It was late and this particular street was pretty deserted but you figured you couldn’t be too careful. 

He was quiet for a moment before sighing and bringing both hands to rub at the face of his mask. He grumbled. “Ok fine, it is me. But Y/N you can’t tell anyone, I mean anyone, okay? Otherwise, this whole thing is ruined.”

You felt a pang in your chest. You knew you weren’t the best of friends or anything, but you’d known each other for a long time and you thought there was a certain respect that came with that. Of course you weren’t going to go around yelling out his secret. 

“I would never do that. Actually, I’m sorry I said anything, that was stupid. We can forget this ever happened. Thanks for the bag,” you held it up for emphasis, “I needed my keys.” You moved to walk past him but he grabbed your shoulder.

“Wait, I’m sorry, I didn’t mean to totally freak out on you it’s just…no one knows about this. And I don’t want them to know. It would complicate things.”

“Things like what? Like running around in a bright onesie and calling yourself a man when you’re barely a teenager?” You replied in a teasing tone, hoping he wouldn’t feel as bad that you figured him out so quick.

He laughed. “Among other things, yeah. What book are you reading anyway?” He asked, nodding to the book you still held in your hand and you wondered if he was trying to change the subject. 

You figured you’d let him. Holding up the book, you replied, “‘Biology: A Self-Teaching Guide’,” you smiled sarcastically. “It’s self-teaching because Mr. Harrington is shit at his job!”

Peter cackled. “I know exactly what you mean. You know, the other day he spent the last thirty minutes of class checking his fantasy football? Class is forty-five minutes!”

You shook your head, smiling slightly. “I wonder how he still has his job,” you mused. 

“Oh, that’s easy, no one is reporting him because no one minds. He lets every do as they  please so they all love him.”

“True.” You laughed. Some time since you’d started talking, you’d both started walking towards your building. 

“Are you walking me home now?” You held your breath. Obviously, he had every right to just swing away right then but…you hoped he didn’t.

“Well you obviously can’t be trusted to walk alone, honestly I really think that if I left right now, you’d open that book back up and walk into a lamppost.”

You threw your head back laughing. “Okay,” you held up both your hands in surrender, “fair enough.”

And while you’ve both known each other for a long time, you truly think that this walk was when you really clicked with Peter. He was funny, he was smart, and he was obviously the most selfless person you knew if he spent all his free time ridding New York’s streets of criminals without anyone giving him credit. 

When you reached your apartment building, you wished you hadn’t. You could’ve spent all night talking to him and youwere scared that once you walked through those doors things would go back to polite smiles and quiet ‘heys’. You didn’t want that. 

“Hey…if that ever happens again, and I’ll do my best to make sure it doesn’t,” he gestured to his suit, “but if it does and you lose your keys or something, you can always hang out at mine. If you want to of course.”

“You wanna hang out?” You asked confused

He seemed to have taken it the wrong way. “Oh! I didn’t mean to sound weird, I was just thinking-”

“Yes!” You blurted out, your face heating up. “I mean, yeah hanging out sounds cool. Maybe even…if I still have my keys?”

“Yeah, yeah that sounds great. Obviously I didn’t mean you had to be locked out to hang out but yeah…” He scratched the back of his neck again and you imagined his cheeks flaming up just like yours under his mask. 

“Cool,” you nodded. 

“Cool,” he nodded back. 

You two stared at each other for a while. 

“Well, I should…” You jutted your thumb at the door as your voice trailed off. At least he wanted to see you again. That meant something, right?

“Right. Yeah, of course. See ya later Y/N.” He waved and you returned it. 

“See you later Peter,” your hand flew up to your mouth. “Shit. Sorry, um, I’ll see you- I mean bye Spider-Man.” Idiot. 

You rushed to through the door, leaving a smiling Peter in your wake. 

You were psyched Peter wanted to hang out with you on more casual terms. It was all you’d dreamed of for as long as you could remember. You’re little crush on him dated back further than you could really remember, but you knew it started sometime back in kindergarten. So you were rightfully excited that things were finally progressing, you just weren’t expecting it to happen so soon.

Later that day you were sitting in your room when suddenly you heard a tap on your window. Peter, fully decked out in his Spider-Man suit, was perched on your fire escape. 

Your brows furrowed but you rushed over to let him in. “Um, hey? What’s up?”

“Oh nothing much, same old same old. You?” He said casually as if you’d known each other your whole lives. Well, you kinda had. But still.

You stared at him a bit before you heard a dripping noise. At first you thought it was rain. And then you realized it wasn’t raining, nor had it rained at all recently. You looked down to see blood dripping. From Peter. Blood was dripping from Peter onto your fire escape. Shit. 

“It’s okay. It’s not that bad honestly.” He said lightly, but you noticed the slight edge to his voice. It definitely was that bad. 

You wanted to freak out. You wanted to tell him to go to a hospital so he could get proper treatment but you had a feeling he wouldn’t listen. 

“Peter,” you said, your voice soft but urgent. “What are you doing here?”

“You’re the only one who knows. I wanted to see a familiar face right now and if I went to see anyone else it would take too much explaining,” he shuffled around on your fire escape, wincing as he did so. He finally settled, leaning his backagainst the railing and laying his feet in front of him. He ripped off his mask, “I’m sorry Y/N, I don’t wanna freak you out. This was just the first place I thought of and-”

“No no no. It’s okay! Better than you passing out in some alley somewhere.”

“Exactly, you get it!” 

You side-eyed him. “Y’know, I think you’re too enthusiastic for someone who looks like they had sex with a cheese grater.”

He chuckled. “Funny. You’re real funny, you know that. Sex with a cheese grater,” he mumbled, leaning his head back. He chuckled again. “That’s hilarious.”

“Okay….alright just…..” You worried your hands. You had less than no clue what to do. But you had to figure out something. Soon. Otherwise, you’d have a dead teenage boy on your fire escape and you really didn’t know how you would explain that to your parents, and you didn’t want to figure it out.

You held up your hands. “Wait here and I’ll be right back.”

“I can’t imagine where I might go right now, but alright.” You heard him mumble under his breath, his head lolling to one side. You would’ve sasses him right back if you were so worried. You had to admit, it was admirable how he still managed to cling to his humor even when he was so hurt. 

You ran to the shared bathroom in your apartment, making sure to keep quiet so as not to wake anyone. Things were already hard enough. 

You grabbed an old first aid kit (you’d always thought it was stupid and unnecessary to carry around but here it was, saving your ass) before making your way back to your room. You closed the door and locked it for good measure before crawling out of your window and sitting on your knees beside him. 

“Ok. I’m gonna need you to help me though, do you think you could do that?”

He nodded softly and you got to work. It was nerve-racking but you got through it. Peter helped a lot, explaining what needed mending, and what would be fine being left alone. “I heal faster.” He’d explained to you and you had no choice but to believe him. 

When you’d finished you went to the kitchen and poured both of you cups of lemonade. “You should probably be drinking water or tea or something but oh well.” You shrugged as you stepped out of your window again, handing him the cup and settling on the other side of the fire escape. 

“I prefer this.” He said as he took the cup from you. “Thanks.”

“No thank you,” you said in a serious voice. “For serving this city.” You placed your now empty hand on your heart and bowed your head in respect. 

“Shut up,” he said, but he was laughing. You laughed as well. “So how did the whole Spider-Man thing start? Last I remember you were just little Petey in the robotics club.”

“Still in the robotics club, but somewhere in the midst of that I got bit by a radioactive spider.” He went off, telling you the whole story and you listened with both ears, tuned into his every word. It was crazy to you that the boy across the hall, the boy you’d known since you were children, had been through all of this. Alone. Your heart broke a little for him at that moment and you were glad he finally had someone he could talk to about this, even if it was just you. 

“Wow.” You shook your head in disbelief after he’d finished. “Not really sure where you got the whole ‘I need to put on a suit and get out there!’ attitude after being bedridden from a spider bite for a whole day, but good for you!”

He let out a loud laugh. “Alright Ace, enough about me. Tell me something about you.”

“Ace?” You asked with a furrow in your brows. 

He shook his head smiling, “Think it suits you, don’t you?”

Your face lit on fire. You looked down at your hands, “Um, well there’s not really much. What do you wanna know?”

“Anything. What are you interested in, something you’ve never told anyone?”

You peered over the fire escape railing and looked up at the sky. “Stars.”

“Stars?” He asked. 

You nodded. “Stars. Constellations. They all have stories, they’re named after certain things. People used to use them as guides when they traveled! But it’s stupid, I mean,” you scoffed, “we live in New York. There’s no regular stars here, let alone constellations.”

He stared at you for a while and you stared feeling nervous. He probably thought you were weird for bringing that up, how fucking random to just start going off about stars, normals people are interested in sports, art—

He started nodding, “Tell you what, when I’m healed, which won't be long, we’re gonna go see some stars.”

Your brows furrowed together. “What?”

He chuckled at your expression, all he could think was how cute he thought you looked. “Yeah, you heard me. We’re gonna go see some stars. Consider it a thank you for helping me today.”

Your cheeks flushed. “You don’t need to thank me for anything Pete, I’d help you no matter what.”

Now it was his turn to flush. “Thank you,” he said in a sincere voice. “But fine. Just think of it as two friends stargazing together.” He grinned.

Friends. That sounded nice. “Wait I didn’t know you could drive?”

He grinned even wider before standing up. You followed his lead, making sure he didn’t hurt himself in any way. “Thanks for everything Ace, but I think that’s enough for now.”

He moved to jump off the balcony but you stopped him, “Wait! At least use the front door, everyone’s asleep.” 

He slipped his mask back on and quickly shook his head, “Thanks but May’s asleep and I don’t wanna risk it.”

You nodded. “Right. Well bye then, and if you need anything Peter, you know where to find me.”

“Ditto,” he said, moving to stand on the railing of your fire escape. He gave you a two-finger salute. “G’night Ace.”

“Goodnight Pete-” your hands flew up to your mouth and you had to hold back a scream as you watched him completelyfall backward off your fire escape. “What the fuck!” You whisper-shouted, moving to the railing just in time to see him swinging away. 

“Son of a bitch,” you whispered softly and you could’ve sworn you heard him laugh. 

“Peter there’s no way I’m doing that.”

“C’mon Ace, I do it all the time!”

“That’s not the same and you know it! Have you ever tried swinging around the whole city with someone else?”

He went quiet for a moment. “Well, not around the whole city per se, but…I’ve swung while holding someone!”

“How long?” You deadpanned. 

He looked down and mumbled something incoherent. 

“How. Long.” You repeated. 

“Like, around the block maybe?” He looked at you sheepishly. 

You scoffed, “Peter fucking Parker I can’t believe you're trying to get me to agree to letting you drop me from thousands of feet in the air!”

“Hey come on! If I wanted to kill you I wouldn’t ask for permission, I would just do it.”

You narrow your eyes at him and he raises both his hands. It’d been a week since the night on your fire escape and Peter was fully healed. He really did heal faster than average because when you’d asked him to see the wound, it had been completely gone. Not even a scar was left.

“Y’know, if you wanted me to take my shirt off Ace, you could’ve just asked.” He’d said with a boyish smirk. 

“You fucking wish dipshit.” You had shoved him away but you couldn’t help the little smile working its way onto your face. 

You’d spent time together after that night, walking to school together, Peter popping by after patrol if you were still awake to just hang out for a bit. It was great. Until now. 

Peter had decided it was time for him to make good on his promise to take you to see the stars and you were refusing. 

“Please Ace, let me do this.” He gave you a little pout making you bite your lip in consideration. He tried not to smile, he was winning and he knew it. 

Silence. And then, “Where are we even going?” Bingo. 

He didn’t try to hide his grin now. “You’ll see. I know a place, it’s perfect for something like this.” He approached you and his voice turned sincere. “And I promise I won’t drop you, trust me, I know what I’m doing.”

“How can I trust you when you just told me the furthest you’ve ever swung with someone was a block,” you grumbled, but you didn’t push him away when he moved to hold you. 

“Enough complaining,” he said as he wrapped an arm around your waist. “Arms around my neck Ace, hold tight.”

He suddenly pulled you in, clinging to you tighter than before and you had just started to think maybe this wasn’t so bad. But then he jumped. And you screamed. 

Your stomach fell and you kept thinking you’d hit the pavement, he’d swing too low, or maybe he’d accidentally run into a building he hadn’t noticed. But when none of those things happened it actually became sort of…fun. 

“I can’t believe I’m riding Spider-Man!” You screamed, thinking he wouldn’t hear you because of the wind but you were proven wrong when you heard him hollering with laughter. 

You smiled as you clung to him. You should have trusted him at the start although there were times when he would dip lower than normal and if you didn’t know any better you would’ve thought he was doing it on purpose because every time he did, you clutched him even tighter.

Soon, the ruckus of the city seemed to die down and you could hear the thwip of his webs clearer than before. It wasn’t long after that you were landing on a tall hill making you wonder just how fast he could get around with those webs. 

Peter set you down and you immediately missed being in his arms. But then you turned around. 

“Oh my god,” you whispered. You could see the entire New York skyline and it was stunning. This city really was beautiful, it wasn’t for everyone, but it would always own a special place in your heart. 

You heard Peter chuckle beside you before he placed his hands on your shoulders. “I know, but that’s not what we’re here for Ace.” He pulled you a bit, making your head lean back. And then you understood. 

“Oh my god,” you said, louder than before. The stars were glittering above you both, the sky like a sparkling black fabric shielding you both. “They’re real!”

Peter laughed again. “I know right?” 

You looked back at him. “Peter this is….I don’t even have words for how amazing this is. This is the nicest thing anyone has ever done for me.”

His heart melted at that moment. He gave you a smile so soft it reminded you of fluffy clouds and soft ice cream on a hot summer day. “You like it?” He asked almost as if he wasn’t expecting you to. 

You looked at him in disbelief. “Do I like it? Of course, I do! It's beautiful! How’d you find this place anyway?”

He shrugged, “Oh y’know, just found it while I was swinging along one day. But hey,” he said quickly, making you question if that was how he actually found this place. “Look I set up a place for us.”

You decided not to question him any further and you let him lead you through a few overgrown bushes until you reached a small clearing. There lay a small picnic blanket with snacks and drinks set up.

You look back at him. “Are you for real right now?”

His mouth falls open. “I’m sorry! I—I didn’t mean-”

You pulled him into a hug. “Thank you so much, Peter. I mean…wow, I just…wow.”

He held you even tighter. “You don’t need to thank me, honestly I’ve been waiting for forever to go on a date with you soreally thank you for even being here-”

You went slack in his arms and Peter had never wanted to beat himself up more than he did in that moment. You pulled away and looked up at him with questioning eyes, “Date?”

Peter blanched, you never knew someone could look so pale, yet be blushing so much at the same time. He was gaping like a fish, his mouth kept opening and closing as if words were supposed to be coming out, they just weren’t reaching your ears. 

“Because,” you continued, deciding you needed to step up and help him out a little, “a date sounds good. Really good. I’d just like to be aware of the fact that I’m on one.”

He looked at you with wide eyes. “Are you—are you sure? Cause I can just shut up and we can totally pretend that never happened.”

You laughed and shook your head. “I’m sure. If you are, of course.”

“Yes! I mean—” He scratched the back of his neck and sighed. “I’m sorry I just made this really weird didn’t I?”

You laughed again and gently placed your hands on his shoulder, making sure to look him dead in the eyes. “Peter,” you made sure he was listening. “S’not weird. At least, I don’t think it is. Okay, so we’re on a date! Love that for us. The onlything I would’ve changed is my outfit.” You looked down and pouted. “First time I’ve gone out with someone in my pajamas.”

“Well, I love it. I think you look beautiful.” He grinned. He seemed to have relaxed a little after your reassurances. 

You looked down to hide the blush forming on your cheeks. “Yeah yeah, save the flattery for the second date.”

“Will do.” He laughed and grabbed your hand. He led you to the picnic blanket and moved some things around. You realized he must’ve come here earlier to get things ready and your heart warmed at the thought. 

Peter set out the snacks and drinks and the two of 

“Here lay down,” he said to you after he’d cleared things out of your way. 

“God Parker, at least buy me dinner first.” You rolled your eyes dramatically but obeyed and laid flat on your back.  

“What do you think all that was?” He shot back with a grin. 

You shrugged as you settled yourself on the blanket and he moved to lay next to you. “More of a midnight snack.”

He laughed, “Noted.”

You turned your head towards him and nudged him a little with your elbow, getting him to look back. “So…what are we doing.”

He laughed again. “We’re stargazing Ace, that was kinda the whole point.”

“Oh, right, right.” You nodded and went quiet.

“What’re you thinking?” He asked. 

“Star stuff.”

“What do you mean ‘star stuff’?” He asked, voice full of poorly concealed laughter. 

“Like the fact that I don’t know shit about stars.” You admitted. 

He chuckled beside you before bringing his head right beside yours. “Okay see that really bright star with a bunch ofother stars crowding around it?” He pointed until you got it. 

When you nodded he said, “What does that tell you?”

“That it’s an extrovert?” You leaned back to look at him.

“No,” he shook his head smiling. “That’s Rigel. It’s a blue supergiant star in the constellation of Orion. And actually,” he shuffled a little closer. “See those three big stars all next to each other?”

You nodded, forgetting all the jokes and focusing on everything he was saying. 

“That’s Orion's belt,” he continued. “Each of those three stars is actually way bigger, and brighter than the sun.”

“Woah,” you looked at him wide-eyed. “Where’d you learn all this?”

“Oh y’know,” he waved a hand casually. 

You gaped. You propped yourself up on your elbows so you could look at him. “I absolutely do not know. First, I thought you were just Peter Parker. Then, I find out you’re also Spider-Man. And then, I find out you’re Peter Parker, Spider-Man, and also, extremely well-informed on star stuff!”

He laughed, There’s a lot of things you don’t know about me yet Ace.”

You nodded softly. “That’s true. We should change that.”

He looked deep into your eyes and you saw something like wonder in them. “Yeah?” He asked

“Mhm.” You poked him softly in the side. “Wanna know you, Peter Parker. All of you, from the dorky lego-obsessed-kid to the nerdy science genius who secretly fights crime.”

He grinned so wide and you swore it was brighter than any star in the galaxy. You were completely content with this being your view for the rest of the night. “Alright, come here,” he tugged you down making you squeal as he held you in his arms. 

“Hey, eyes on the sky Ace,” he said when he caught you staring.

You blushed and rolled your eyes, “Fine, whatever. I don’t wanna look at you anyway.” The complete opposite of what you were just thinking.

He smirked as if he knew too. “Sure thing babe. Now let me dazzle you with more star stuff.”

The ‘ride’ (if you could even call it that) back to your place was quiet and peaceful, and a part of you thought it was a tad bit longer than the way there

Peter landed softly on your fire escape but he didn’t let go of you just yet and you weren’t in a hurry to end the night. 

“So…we’re here.” Said Peter, his voice a bit muffled from the mask. You nodded and reached up, carefully working it off his head. 

“Thank you,” you said, hoping your voice conveyed the sincerity you felt. Everything about tonight was perfect and you hoped he felt the same. 

He smiled softly. “You already said that.”

You nodded. “Maybe. But it doesn’t hurt to say it again. I had an amazing time Peter.”

“Even though you were in your pajamas and you didn’t know it was a date? Well, not at first.” He gave you a questioning look, almost looking unsure. 

You grinned, “Especially because of those things. I don’t know,” you shrugged, “thinks it makes us unique.”

“And if wanted to do something that’s not so unique for the end of a first date?” He gulped. “Figured I kinda owed you something basic about tonight…unless you don’t want to?”

“Peter Parker, are you asking if you can kiss me?” You smiled up at him and he blushed all the way down to his neck. He mumbled something you couldn’t make out. 

“I’m sorry what was that?” You turned your head and leaned in dramatically and you heard him sigh. “Isaidifthatsokaywithyou.” He rushed out. 

You pulled away and stared up at him. “That’s more than okay with me actually.”

He didn’t waste a second. His hands that were resting lightly on your waist gripped you tighter and you grabbed his face, his mask that was in your hand falling to the floor. He captured your lips in an urgent kiss but it was somehow soft at the same time. It felt as if he’d just been waiting to get this chance and now he was savoring it and trying to memorize every part. 

You both pulled away breathlessly. His face was flushed and he looked so cute you had to lean in and give him a few softer pecks. He grinned so wide that you started to laugh. “Why’d you stop?” He asked. 

You laughed harder. “I can't kiss you when you're smiling so hard!”

“Ok ok fine I’ll stop!” He tried to keep a straight face but it didn’t last for 5 seconds before he was grinning again. He rubbed a hand over his face while you giggled at him. “Sorry if I’m super psyched I got to kiss you, I mean look at you.”

That got you to stop laughing and you felt your face start to heat up. You leaned over and landed a big smooch on hischeek. Peter turned pink. “Okay see, that was really great Ace but I really wanna kiss you.”

You smiled, “Then kiss me, bug boy.”

He started to lean in but you pulled back at the last minute, “Hey wait. Did we take longer on the way back than we took going? Or was that just me?”

“Oh that,” he nodded. “Air traffic.”

You narrowed your eyes. “Air traffic?”

Peter cleared his throat, “Look I’m the designated driver, or swinger, I know what’s going on. You don’t need to worry about it Ace, I’ve got it covered. Now I need your lips covering mine, right now.”

“Fine whatever,” you rolled your eyes with affection and leaned in. 

Things couldn’t be more perfect in your life. 

After you and Peter had made things official, he’d invited you over a few times to spend time with May, and you’d asked the same of him with your parents. Of course, your parents knew who Peter was, and May definitely knew who you were (she’d told you as much and you started to wonder if Peter’s crush might date back almost as far as yours. There was a chance) but it was different now that you two were together. 

“Is she gonna make you leave the door cracked?” You whispered as Peter led you by the hand through his apartment and to his bedroom. You two had just gotten back from school and you were going to work on your homework together. Homework which would mostly consist of the two of you making out on his bedroom floor. 

He scoffed. “No. She trusts us.”

“Mhm,” you pondered. “And that has nothing to do with the fact that you asked her to stop embarrassing you when I’m over?” You entered the room and Peter closed the door behind you, but not before he gave you a look. 

You shrugged and smirked a bit as you placed your bag on his floor and started pulling out your textbooks. “Did she say something to you?” He asked. 

Your smirk turned into a full-blown grin. “Y’know I’m actually starting to think she likes me more than you.”

He rolled his eyes. “It’s started, amazing.”

“What’s started?”

“The two of you ganging up on me,” He grumbled which made you laugh out loud. You reached over and squished his face with one hand, your thumb on one cheek, and the rest of your fingers on the other. “You’re adorable when you’re grumpy.”

You felt him fighting off a smile under your fingers. “Adorable enough for a kiss?”

“You can always get a kiss from me, Petey.”

He gave you a serious look. “I’m gonna hold you to that.”

You returned his seriousness with a solemn look of your own. “I hope you do.”

Just as he started to lean in, the door to his room burst open, making you jump away so fast you fell on your back. 

“Hey, kids!” You scrambled back up as May entered the room. “I just wanted to make sure you guys were…okay. Are you okay?”

Peter threw his hands up in exasperation, “May!” 

She held her hands out and quickly said, “I’m sorry! Sorry, but I also wanted to tell you I’m going out and I won’t be here. So be responsible.”

He rolled his eyes. “We’re just going to do some homework.”

She nodded, “Yeah okay, and I totally believe you!” She started inching towards the door. Placing a hand on the frame shesaid, “Pete, remember our talk.” Peter went red. But before he could stop her she went on, “Use protection.”

She flew out the door, leaving you wide-eyed and Peter as red as a tomato. It was quiet between you two for a moment before you decided on what to say. “Soooo….your aunt definitely thinks we’re fucking.”

Peter looked mortified. “Ace I am so sorry-”

“No, it’s okay! Fair assumption, I mean, we are teenagers so it's kinda of what we’re known for right now. Plus, she’s only looking out for us.”

“You’re not mad?” He asked worriedly.

“Why would I be mad Pete? She was actually super chill about it, my parents would’ve dragged you out of the apartment.” He laughed but there was something else on your mind. “Can I ask you something though?”

“Anything,” he answered quickly. 

You smiled, “Have you um—Have you ever…” You trailed off but you knew he understood what you were getting at.

‘OH! Well, no but yes?” You gave him a weird look. “So I mean like…I’ve done stuff but not all the stuff. Y’know?”

You nodded. “Have you…ever?” His voice was quiet as if he were afraid you’d shun him for even daring to ask. 

“Not all the stuff,” you answered simply. 

“Okay,” he looked down, unable to meet your eyes, and you weren’t quite sure what to say at the moment either.

“Do you think-” he still wasn’t looking at you as he tried to finish his sentence, “do you think we…we…Do you?”

“Yes. Probably.” That got him to look up.

“Really?”

“Well not right now obviously-”

“Oh of course not,” he cut you off quickly. “But like…eventually? Do you see yourself being with me like that? Trusting me enough?”

“Yeah, I think so.” Now it was your turn to avoid his gaze. “Do you? See yourself trusting me and…whatever.”

He laughed a little. “Yeah, I do.”

“Cool.” You nodded quickly and cleared your throat. “So I actually had a question about this science problem.” You held up one of the worksheets you were sent home with.

“Oh no, you’re not switching the subject that easily.” He gave you a knowing look.

“No,” you faked offense. “Can a girl not ask her genius boyfriend a science-related question?”

“No,” he said simply. “You still owe me a kiss.”

You rolled your eyes, “I think we’re forgetting what really matters here.”

“Me?” Peter suggested.

“Homework.”

Next thing you knew, he had tackled you and had you pinned you on the floor. 

“Wait! No stop!” You yelled when you felt his hands creeping up your sides. You’d made the mistake of telling Peter you’re ticklish and boy had he been using it against you. 

He grinned with triumph. He knew he’d won but that didn’t mean he wasn’t gonna milk it. “Are you gonna give me kisses?” He leaned over you, letting his nose brush yours as some of his longer curls fell onto your face. 

“I really like these,” you whispered as your hand moved up to play with them. Your tone was more sincere now, completely forgetting the game you were playing and completely focusing on Peter’s hair. It was getting a little longer than usual and you adored it. 

“Yeah? I’ve been meaning to get it cut but I haven’t had a chance. Between school and Spider-Man-”

“No! Don’t cut them please,” you begged, eyes suddenly wide in horror at the fact that he was even thinking of chopping off his beautiful curls. 

“Really? Didn’t know you liked them that much.” He gave you a boyish grin.

“I treasure them as if they were my own,” you said sincerely making him shake with laughter. “So you wouldn’t even be cutting your hair Petey, you’d be cutting our hair.”

He laughed again, “Fine you win! I won’t be cutting it anytime soon, but I’m gonna need you to hold up on your kissespromise.”

“Yay! I love you!” You leaned up to kiss him where he hovered over you but he pulled away. You pouted slightly, howdare he give you such a hard time about kisses and then not accept them?!

“You love me?” He asked quietly. You froze. Why did you have to say that? Sure you two had been together for a while now and you’d known each other for even longer but…what if he didn’t feel the same? What if you had just ruined everything?

“Um…” You tried to move out from under him but he kept his arms locked around you. You were stuck, there was nothing to do other than talk. “Look Pete, I don’t want you to feel weird-”

“But do you love me?” He insisted. 

You sighed and turned your head. You might not be able to get away but that didn’t mean you had to look him in the face while you embarrassed yourself. “Yes.”

“Good.” He leaned down until your noses were touching again, “Because I love you too.”

Your heart skipped a beat in your chest. “Really?”

He chuckled softly, “Think I’ve loved you for a lot longer than you’ve loved me, Ace.” He leaned down and closed the distance between you, finally getting that kiss he’d been after you for. 

“Now do a pose!” Peter yelled over as he squinted through his camera. 

You rolled your eyes, feeling shy all of a sudden. “Peter, we’re in public, can we please stop now?”

The two of you were taking an after-school stroll through Central Park. It was autumn now and the scenery was absolutely gorgeous and Peter had demanded to take pictures of you the whole time. School had started back up almost a week ago and already the two of you were facing the heat of your senior year.

“Oh come on,” he jogged back to you and threw an arm around your shoulder. “Gotta get used to me showing you off Ace,” he pressed kissed the side of your head. “This what it’s going to be like when we go to school together.”

“We already go to school together.” You smirked at him. 

He rolled his eyes dramatically. “You know what I mean Ace,” he squeezed your shoulder softly. “I mean when we go to Columbia.”

You looked up at him with a smile so wide there was no way you could hide it. “I know,” you said softly. “I can’t wait.”

“Me either.” He smiled back. 

The two of you had discussed schools and where you’d be going. You spent a lot of your time during summer going overthe pros and cons of different universities and settled on going to Columbia. Of course, you weren’t just going for each other, but that was definitely a perk. 

It was perfect, really. Peter was planning on majoring in biophysics (a major you’d told him you thought was created just for him, two of his best subjects combined) and they had the perfect courses for that, not to mention their photography classes. He’d done a ton of research on them already. It was a hobby of his you’d learned about shortly after the two of you had gotten together, and you had to admit, he was really good. And he was only getting better.

And you were planning on majoring in Journalism, with a minor in English. You and Peter had a joke where he’d be making the groundbreaking scientific discoveries and you would be writing the award-winning articles about it. 

“I know you’re gonna make me sound smart,” he’d said smugly. “And sexy.”

You’d laughed at him. “Peter, how am I supposed to make you sound sexy?”

“I don't know, but as an amazing writer, that’s for you to figure out Ace.”

“I’m not a journalist yet.”

He winked. “But you will be.”

You bit your lip at the memory. You had this small fear (or silly as Peter had put it when you’d voiced it to him) that you wouldn’t get into Columbia. You weren’t even worried about Peter, you were pretty sure he’d get into every school he’d enrolled in. The boy was a genius after all. 

“Hey,” he said softly. He stopped walking, pulling you to a stop as well. Pulling his camera strap over his head, he stood in front of you and grabbed both of your hands. You looked down. 

“Uh uh,” he shook his head and tsked as he moved one of his hands to hold your chin between the knuckle of his index finger and his thumb. “Look at me,” he said and gently pulled your head up. “I know what that look means.”

You shook your head a little. “Means nothing. What do you mean?”

He gave you a sad smile. “I don’t like when you think like that y’know. I don’t want you upsetting yourself.” You didn’t answer so he continued. “Fine. It’s just up to me to distract you then.” He pulled away to grab one of your hands, intertwine your fingers together, and start walking again. He started to swing them back and forth dramatically. 

You giggled, which made him smile. His plan was already working. “Oh, by the way, I’m taking you out tonight.”

“What?” You asked. You didn’t remember making any plans for tonight.

He nodded. “Yeah, I’m gonna pick you up and we’re going to our spot. I was thinking around 10.” Your ‘spot’. The place where Peter had taken you on your first date, where you hadn’t known it was a date at first and had shown up in your pajamas. The two of you had kept going back since that initial night. Most of your summer nights (and sometimes early mornings and even afternoons) were spent up there, gazing at the stars, and talking about your futures. That place had grown to mean so much to the both of you and it held the sentiment of more than one of your firsts together. 

“Are you sure you won’t be busy, y’know with Spider-Man or school or something?” You looked up at him questioningly. Of course, you wanted to spend time together but you didn’t want him worrying about cheering you up so much that he slacked on his own stuff. 

He slapped a hand on his chest and feigned offense. “I’m sorry, what is this I’m hearing? You don’t wanna hang out with your boyfriend Ace?”

“No of course it’s not that,” you laughed and shoved him lightly. “I just don’t want you feeling like you need to spend time with me when you have so many other responsibilities.”

Peter laughed and shook his head. “No way. You can’t seriously think like that Ace.” He gave you a side-eye and sighed. “Maybe you really aren’t smart enough to get into Columbia.”

“Peter!” You shrieked and slapped his shoulder while he hunched over with laughter. You couldn’t help it, you joined him. 

Once he’d calmed down he straightened himself back up and looked at you with such adoration in his eyes, you nearly melted. He grabbed one of your hands and brought the knuckles up to his lips. “You know I’m only joking Ace, you’redefinitely getting in. In fact, they’re probably getting your place ready as we speak.”

You threw your head back and laughed. “Pete I haven’t even applied.”

“Exactly! You’re so amazing, you don’t even have to apply, they totally want you.” He wiggled his brows suggestively making you snort. You shoved him forward to continue your walk. “Enough about school for now,” you looked at him. “You said we’re going out tonight?”

“Oh yeah,” he grinned at you and you saw the nerdy part of him he tends to be a little insecure about. You’d told him multiple times it was your favorite part. You absolutely loved it when he started ranting about something he loved. “So there’s some new-” He shook his head quickly. “Actually, I’ll keep it a surprise and tell you when we’re there.”

You gaped at him, about to demand he tell you right now what he was about to say but before you could get the words outhe was positioning you infant of a tree bursting with different shades of orange, red, and yellow. New York really was beautiful in the fall. 

“I need some more pictures for my portfolio,” he said as he backed up a few steps. “Also, I’m loving today’s outfit.” He winked at you. 

You looked down. You weren’t wearing anything special, just a sweater, a pair of soft, baggy jeans, and some Converse.You were pulling down your sleeves when you realized what he meant. It was his sweater. You grinned, “Fine. A few more, and then you’re done.” You waved a finger at him. 

“Yeah, yeah.” He muttered and snapped a few pics. He pulled the camera away for a moment. “Stop looking so grumpy Ace, c’mere.” He walked toward you and grabbed your hand. He started leading you onto the grass which was completely blanketed in colored leaves. “I need you to lay down.”

“Okay, this is getting ridiculous.” You held your hands up. 

“Wait, no. Hear me out, Ace. I need to share my artistic vision.” You rolled your eyes but that didn’t stop him. “I’m gonna have you lay down in the leaves, look how bright and pretty they are! You lay down, let your hair down and spread it out a bit, and smile!” He punctuated his sentence with his own smile. 

You stared at him for a bit before grumbling, “You are so lucky I love you.” Sighing, you moved to lie on the ground in front of him while he grinned above you holding his camera eagerly. “Y’know the only reason I’m so okay with this isbecause this is your sweater.”

“S’alright,” he casually waved a hand as he checked something on his camera screen. “You can have it, it’s yours now.”

“What?”

“Well it’s been on the ground of Central Park, I sure as hell don’t want it.”

You burst into laughter. You didn’t even realize he was taking photos until you opened your eyes to see his camera lens in your face. After a few more clicks and him instructing you on some different poses, he leaned back and held out a hand. You ignored him and pushed yourself onto your feet, dusting off your clothes.

When you looked back at him, he was looking at you with a hurt expression and you almost felt bad for rejecting his hand. “You said you don’t want anything that’s been on the ground of Central Park.” You joked. 

Next thing you knew he had you in a hug, holding you tight. “I’ll always want you, Ace.”

He pulled away, “No matter what dirty part of New York you just came out of.” He tried to kiss your cheek but you shoved him away. 

“Absolutely not!” You yelled and started running away from him. 

“Wait Ace, come back.” You could hear him behind you laughing, as he chased you. You knew logically, with his superpowers and all, he could absolutely outrun you if he felt like it. And it seemed like he felt like it. 

After about a minute of chasing you, he started gaining speed. Next thing you knew, he had picked you up and he was dragging back to the ground with him. 

“Peter let me go,” you tried to shove him away, but it was no use, the boy had an iron grip. 

“No. We’re gonna be gross together.” He rolled around a bit in his spot for emphasis. 

You laughed at him. “You are such a weirdo.”

He grinned at you and this time succeeded in kissing your cheek. “Maybe. But I’m your weirdo.”

You rolled your eyes. “Thank god for that, I don’t think anyone else could handle you.”

He kissed your lips this time. “I don’t want anyone to handle me. Just want you.”

“Good, 'cause you’re stuck with me.”

“So what’s the special thing you couldn’t tell me about until now?”

You were currently lying on your back, with Peter’s arm under your head as the both of you gazed at the sky. 

“Well, it’s nothing crazy, but there’s a new star I wanted to show you.” He replied, which made your brows furrow in confusion. “New star?” You asked. “How the hell can there be a new star?” You gasped, “Oh my god did Orion knock a girl up?”

Peter laughed beside you, “No. No, okay so, there are these things called seasonal constellations.”

“Alright,” you nodded as if you had any idea what he was getting at. You had learned a lot about astronomy (or star stuffas you two had taken to calling it) since your first night here with Peter, but he still had some things on you. 

“Basically, stars are always in the sky, right? But we can’t see them because of the Sun. If it weren’t for the Sun, everyone would be able to see all the stars, all the time. But because the Earth is always moving around the Sun, the Sun’s position on the celestial sphere changes.”

You give him a confused look and he laughs before explaining some more. “So the Sun is on one side of the sky during summer, okay? During that time certain stars are super vibrant at night. And then when it’s winter, it’s on the oppositeside of the sky, giving some other stars and constellations their time to shine, and during this time, you can’t see the summer constellations as much, or at all.”

“Oh, so the Sun is kind of their reverse-spotlight.” It was starting to click for you. 

“Yeah exactly! The darker the sky is the more they shine.”

“Hmm,” you considered his words for a moment. “I dunno the Sun kinda sounds like an attention whore to me.” Peter laughed out loud but that didn’t stop you. “I’m serious! Who does she think she is? Stealing everyone’s spotlight but never dimming her own!” 

“Ace we’ve talked about this, come on.” He gave you a pointed look and you huffed. “What did we say?”

“Personifying the stars does nothing but hurt my own feelings,” you grumbled. 

“Because they don’t have any.” He finished for you. 

“Whatever.” You shoved him softly but they only made him pull you in closer. “So tell me about this new star.”

“Alright so, do you see that?” He leaned his head closer to yours and pointed up toward a bright star you hadn’t reallynoticed before. When you nodded he continued. “That’s the brightest star in the constellation of Andromeda. Andromeda is an autumn constellation.”

“Wait I know that name, we learned about this story in English. She’s from that old Greek myth with Perseus and Poseidon.”

Peter nodded. “Her mom was bragging she was more gorgeous than the sea nymphs, who didn’t like that and snitched to Poseidon. When he got mad, her father asked Zeus for advice and Zeus said the only way to get Poseidon to back off would be to sacrifice his daughter.”

You finished. “And then Perseus saw her, immediately fell in love, slayed the beast, and saved her. Then they got married.” You made little jazz hands, “Hooray for happy endings.”

He laughed before saying, “Wait, wasn’t she engaged to her uncle?”

“Yup. Perseus killed him too.” Peter made a weird face which made you giggle. “All Greek myths are kinda…off like that.”

“That’s one way to put it,” he mumbled. “But yeah, that’s her constellation. And Perseus,” he shuffled around so he couldpoint to another cluster of stars. “He’s right over there.

“Is his a seasonal constellation too?”

“No,” he shook his head. “Perseus is an all-year-round constellation. You can see him whenever. There are certain timeshe shines a little brighter, but for the most part, he’s always there?”

“But she isn’t?” You asked, referring to Andromeda.

Peter shook his head again. 

“Wow. All that and they don’t even get to spend their eternity together.” You said in a soft voice. 

“What do you mean? I thought it was romantic?” Peter replied.

“It is, in it’s own way. I just mean, she’s only around for a few months every year. And look how far apart they are, to us it seems like nothing, but up there, they’re probably galaxies away from each other.”

“Okay,” he nodded beside you while he considered your words. “But think of it like this, she’s actually up there all year round, she’s only visible to us a few months a year.”

“That’s true.” You smiled. It was sweet of him when he listened to your little stories and added his own thoughts, not just brushing you off. Your little saying from before, however, he had made up and constantly reminded you of ever since one night went a little too far; Peter had told you that actually, not all the stars in the sky were alive, in fact, a lot of them were dead but we just didn’t know because their lights were still shining for us (cue a long conversation of him explaining light years and regular years and how they affect what we see in the sky). That had made you start sobbing, the first time you’d cried in front of him actually. 

In his defense, Peter had handled it quite well. After his initial shock, he comforted you and tried to cheer you up by telling you to think of it as their final act, one last ‘look at me’ before they extinguished. That hadn’t really cheered you up but you had tried for him, after all, he couldn’t have known giant gas balls in the sky would hurt your feelings so much. You hadn’t known either. 

“As for the distance between them,” he continued. “I’m sure they have something figured out, like a tin can telephone. Or FaceTime.”

You laughed and pushed out of his hold, maneuvering yourself so you were looking down on him. 

“Hey Ace,” he whispered with a large smile on his face. 

“Y’know something Peter Parker? I really really love you.”

His smile grew wider. “Yeah?”

You nodded, your face lit up with its own cheesy grin. “Yeah.”

“Tell me again.”

“I’ll tell you however many times you want.”

“Promise?”

“Promise.”

If only it were that easy.

read part two

‘seasonal’ taglist: @keira-kaz2y5

[bullet-prooflove]

I have no idea if this is correct based on the NSFW rumor post (so if it's not, I'm sorry!) but immediately I thought of Joe Velasco and Reader. I've got SVU on the brain atm due to my binging the whole show (can you believe there are some episodes I still haven't seen? It feels like a crime in itself) and I'm still in season 1, just finishing the episode that featured BDSM and other things. Anyways, I was thinking for the rumor, we know canon Joe is looking to make a connection with someone and how he would be most likely during a sexual encounter. But what if the rumor was that Joe liked things rough or had a kink or something like that?

Again, I'm sorry if I'm not doing this right or even if you would be interested, but I just figured I'd give it a shot. 😊

Tagging: @kmc1989 @plaidbooks @witches-unruly-heart @storiesofsvu @rosaliedepp

Babe don’t you worry! This is my first time doing it to so we will figure it out together or make our own shit up!

I have this seasons eps to watch and then I think I’m all caught up.

So here’s what I came up with regarding that rumour:

You’re getting coffee on your way into work when you hear the rumour about Joe. your phone chimes and you pull open your Bad Ass Bitchez chat you have with a few other women in the precinct and there it is sitting on your screen.

About how he likes to leave bruises on his conquests, that he tends to get a little rough.

You know where it’s coming from, the cousin of one of junior detectives had a couple of dates with him a few months ago but it didn’t go anywhere. She’d tried to start things up again recently after they’d run into each other at the gym but he’d told her he was seeing someone, that it was starting to get serious.

Your cousin has a history of making up stuff,  You type back into the chat. Maybe remind her she could be ruining a good cop’s career with those half-truths of hers.

There’s silence after that but you know you’ve made your point.

When you lay eyes on Joe sitting at his desk, you know he’s heard it. His head’s bowed, his shoulders slouched as he focuses on the report in front of him, trying to make himself as invisible as possible.

Your palm comes to rest on the nape of his neck, your thumb tracing a soothing circle underneath that sensitive spot just underneath his ear. He sighs at the sensation, his muscles relaxing as he tilts his head up towards you.

“It’s bullshit.” He informs you, meeting your gaze. “You know me, you know I can’t stand the thought of hurting someone like that…”

You do know that, because you know Joe, his history, the type of man he is. You’re the one he spends his nights with, the one he makes love to in the early mornings as the sun starts to filter through the blinds.

“Keep your chin up.” You murmur, your hand shifting to his shoulder squeezing lightly. “The truth will come out, I’ll make sure of it.”

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[sassenach77yle]

||COUNTDOWN ||SEASON 1 EPISODE 11 || THE DEVIL'S MARK ||

#83daysofoutlander☆

“Claire, I know there are things you dinna wish to tell me. But I have one thing to ask ye…honesty. When you do tell me something, let it be the truth and I promise you the same.” “I agree.”

 “Now, there’s one thing I must ask ye, for your own safety as well as mine: are you a witch?”

Are you serious?” But Jamie does not budge, “I’ve often seen that scar on your arm and thought nothing of it til I saw the same on Geillis Duncan today.

She called it the devil’s mark…so.”

 “I’m not a witch. But after you hear the truth then maybe you’ll think otherwise…I’m from the future. I was born on October 20 in the year 1918, that’s 200 years from now.”

Do you hear me? Do you hear me?” Have I ruined everything? Quietly, he whispers, “I hear you.”

You think I’m raving mad, don’t you?” Unfazed, Jamie destroys ever fear with four words,“I believe you, Sassenach.”

“Do you really believe me?”

“Aye. I believe you, Sassenach, though it would have been a good deal easier if you’d only been a witch.”

Outlander 1×11 ~ “The Devil’s Mark”

[takemetodragonstone]

in succession 2x08 dundee when logan says “the past is all made up” i really do think that’s the thesis of the entire show btw.

like, the roy kids’ conflicting memories of their childhoods that are never clarified through any kind of flashbacks or confirmation, the entire fucking cruises scandal and the coverups of major crimes, kendall’s accident and how he even tries to rewrite the past in the finale (“that didn’t happen. I made it up”) as logan so often did in both big and small ways (from denying his knowledge of the cruises crimes before congress to small moments of “I told you this already” and “did I even make contact?”)

the fucking poem Dreamsong 29 by John Berryman that all the season finales are named after. this is just the last stanza:

“But never did Henry, as he thought he did, / end anyone and hacks her body up / and hide the pieces, where they may be found. / He knows: he went over everyone, & nobody’s missing. / Often he reckons, in the dawn, them up. / Nobody is ever missing.”

And we never have real confirmation that logan did know about cruises because the characters (minus kendall) deny it to the last. but we know. we keep our plausible deniability because we don’t know, but we know. the show essentially makes us complicit in the same way that the characters are. most of them don’t know that he knew, because they never had any explicit proof, but as kendall says in season 3 “C’mon. We knew.”

the narrative continually shows us that logan “keeps a watchful eye over his whole empire” with perhaps the best example being how he buries the evidence of kendall’s accident and manslaughter at the end of season 1. that’s a very clear parallel to the cruises situation and that’s so skillfully and subtly woven throughout season 2 when the cruises scandals are coming to light and kendall is still reeling from the accident and his guilt.

and all that’s not even touching on the whole matter of ATN and the debate over how involved logan really is in what news stories and political views his network pushes (which could be a whole separate post of its own). very similar to how the cruises thing is handled, the line is always that logan isn’t involved, while the narrative shows us otherwise.

there are a million other examples both big and small that i could pull but this post is already such a disorganized mess. someday i’ll write an essay about it i swear, or maybe somebody else out there already has, but i just needed to point out how brilliant and subtle the show is about this as i’m rewatching season 2

[its-time-to-write]

please don’t be - ch. 1

for context! this takes place after season 3, and in my head Jamie plays one season with Richmond under Roy, then goes back to City to play for Pep bc let’s be real, he’s a Manchester boy at heart. so that’s what’s happening, that’s the timeline, this is def the most non-canonical thing I’ve written. it might be out of character. it might be self-indulgent. I don’t know, I would say I don’t care, except I do. enjoy.

table of contents be good to me

It’s Julia who reminds you, he’s the one who asked for your number. Because she has to remind you. Otherwise you’ll tear yourself to pieces thinking about how it’s all your fault. 

Oh, it was easy in the beginning. You meet Jamie Tartt of all people in a chicken shop of all places. Things like that don’t just happen. Except it did, and he smiled at you first, and you had a stupid, stupid thought that became a stupid, stupid reality. 

And Julia was there from the beginning, what with her raised eyebrows and frosty opinions. 

“Be so careful,” she warns. “He doesn’t understand that he doesn’t deserve you.”

You laugh and squeeze her arm as you slip out the door and into Jamie’s car. 

Because it’s fun and silly and he has exactly the right words all the time. Words about your eyes, your voice, your humor; words you know not to take seriously, but he says them with such sincerity that you allow yourself to believe them for a second. 

He says strange things too, things about meeting his mum and holidays in the far future where you’re on a beach with him or maybe in the stands or in a room that costs more than you make in a month. 

He says the word marriage on the third date and it’s not even in reference to the both of you, just to him. He wants it, someday, sooner than people think. You study the wall behind him and sip your water. It’s ice-cold, with just the right amount of lemon. You keep your thoughts on the matter to yourself. No sense in filling the air with meaningless words. Marriage is a conversation for another girl. Not you. 

No, you do your best to take it for what it is, although you’re slipping. 

It’s a fling, albeit long-term. You have incompatible schedules, never mind the way you bend your time to the breaking point just to see him for ten minutes. You have a career, bills to pay, people to fix; he has football, a team, and history to make. 

It’s a whirlwind of parties, matches, flights to Dubai, photographers, dresses, jewels. You know it’s a dream. You do. 

Still, it’s hard to think of it as such when he tucks a strand of hair behind your ear and tells you, “My mum really liked meeting you the other day.”

It doesn’t matter how many times he tells you you’re just going out, he’s not your boyfriend (as if you aren’t painfully aware). He’s acting as if it’s more. 

“It doesn’t mean anything,” Julia says when you come home, confused and conflicted. “I don’t fault you for staying, but don’t forget you can leave whenever you’re ready.”

But you’re not ready. 

You’ll bend over backwards, put everything on the shelf if it means loving Jamie for half a minute. He’d never ask, no one ever does, because they always assume they know how you’ll respond. 

But they don’t. 

There’s a horrifying moment when you’re at some posh coffee shop, and you’re standing up to grab extra sweetener from the counter. Jamie grabs your wrist so gently to ask for a cup of water, but all you can see is the sweet expression on his face and an eyelash resting on his cheek. He’s smiling up at you and you brush away the eyelash with your free thumb, palm cupping his face. The air changes for a split second and you know.

You’re not making it out of this unscathed.

One of you will leave. It’s inevitable. It will not be you. 

It’s inevitable. 

So you hold his face for a beat too long before heading inside to compose yourself. You pretend not to notice the family with their cameras out. It’s a common occurrence, as common as footballers being seen with a girl who comes from another life and means nothing in the grand scheme of the Premier League. 

There are so many times you want to scream that there are bigger things than the Premier League. 

“I can fix him,” you tell Julia. “I get it. I understand his whole brain, how it works, what he thinks. I understand all of it. I can fix it.”

Julia sighs. “You’re not his therapist. It’s not your job, love.”

Still.

You do what you do best: love. 

It shows itself in the way you smooth out the knots in his forehead, his chest, his back. The way you smile that special, soft, just-for-Jamie smile. The way you listen extra carefully and joke and laugh when things are especially difficult. 

“I won’t change for you,” he says one day, early on, when you explain the panic you feel when he doesn’t speak to you for a week. 

“I’m not asking you to,” you say, voice steady despite the fact that your hands shake so hard you almost drop your tea. “I’m just explaining to you why I’m a bit strange today.”

Except he does change. His words- they don’t match his actions. 

I won’t change for you. 

Except you hear from him every day. 

I won’t change for you.

Except he makes time to see you. 

I won’t change for you. 

Except he’s inviting himself for tea with your family. 

I won’t change for you. 

You never asked him to. 

So why is it your fault?

“You knew I was moving back to Manchester at the end of the season,” he says accusingly, because you did know. You’re not asking him to stay, even now. 

You nod silently, letting as few tears streak down your face as possible. 

“What did you think was going to happen?” he asks. 

Nothing. You didn’t think anything was going to happen. 

You reply, “I didn’t expect anything to happen. I never pressured you. I never- I didn’t ask for any of this. Am I not allowed to be sad?”

There’s no point in telling him you’d move with him if he asked. Seven months together… it’s a long time. But it’s not forever, and it’s not long enough, apparently. 

Julia’s in the flat that night. She always seems to know which nights to be home and not out with her sickeningly perfect boyfriend. 

She doesn’t say anything, just hands you the box of takeout as you whisper, “I’m so tired of begging to be loved.”

It’s a cheap shot, you know that, but still. There’s plenty of love in your life. But the begging…

It’s silent, never leaving your lips. But it’s always screaming inside your head. 

Love me, love me, love me. I am making myself lovable for you. Love me. 

He knows not to text, not to call. You hear he’s in town and are relieved that you don’t hear from him. At least he knows enough to leave you alone. 

You’ll love someone for eternity, until they decide they don’t want it anymore. Once they decide, they’re not allowed back. They can’t come back. It wouldn’t be healthy. 

And fuck if you weren’t going to be healthy. 

table of contents

[esilher]

Art: @esilher   Fic: @mynonah  Thank you so much @bossymarmalade for the quick beta reading! <3  You can read it on AO3

Winter Magic (Part 1)

“I think we have a problem with one of our customers, Boss.” Santana said to Blaine with a wry smile, leaning against the counter next to him. All the people waiting in line had finally been served and there was no one at the counter. Blaine continued to wipe the coffee machine without looking up at Santana.

“What do you mean?” He asked, although he wasn’t particularly bothered. Santana always had a problem with someone. She was an excellent worker, of course, otherwise Blaine wouldn’t have hired her to work in his coffee shop. Even though her attitude and manners could use some improvement...

“It’s Kurt.” Santana informed him.

“Kurt?” Blaine turned to Santana with a puzzled look on his face.

“Oh, come on!” She groaned. “You know exactly who it is. I’ve been watching you drool over him for months.”

“That’s not true, Santana.”

“You practically push me aside every time you see him waiting in line.”

Blaine gave Santana a disapproving look. “Do I have to remind you who pays your salary?”

“Your only condition was that I couldn’t be rude to the customers. Do you know how hard that is? But you’re not paying me to be blind.”

“Maybe I should.” Blaine retorted sharply.

Santana rolled her eyes. “Whatever. The point is,” she leaned closer, “there’s something wrong with him. You don’t think his orders are... strange?”

Yeah, well, Blaine thought... Some would call it strange. Blaine noticed it too, of course he did. He’d seen Kurt in his coffee shop before. Sometimes alone, sometimes with a very loud brunette. Yes, he remembered him clearly. Because regular customers were important for the business and because he was a good observer. Not because the guy looked gorgeous and always smiled so warmly at Blaine...

But for a while, Kurt had been coming in every day shortly after opening and always asking for the same thing. Their Winter Magic aka Rudolph’s Favorite specialty coffee, one of Blaine’s best-selling seasonal creations. He also asked for an espresso in a large paper cup and a glass of hot water. About 20 minutes later, he would order another espresso, this time decaf, and a glass of hot water. He would repeat his last order one more time before he left. Blaine assumed that Kurt added the water to the espresso, hence the large cup he always asked for. He couldn’t see it because Kurt always took a seat at the back of the shop. And even though the thought made him cringe (why not ask for a standard long black instead?), it wasn’t really any of his business.

“A bit strange what he usually orders, Santana, you’re right but…”

“Not usually, every day,” she corrected.

“But it’s none of our business,” Blaine shrugged.

Santana gave him a devilish smile. “Don’t be so sure about that, Boss!”

This time Blaine turned all the way to Santana, folded his arms and looked at her questioningly. He knew he wouldn’t get out of this pointless conversation until he heard what she had to say.

“I think he’s trying to steal your recipe,” she said excitedly.

“Excuse me?!” Blaine was shocked. He wasn’t expecting this craziness.

“As soon as he thinks we don’t see him anymore, he pulls a bunch of little jars out of his bag and a thermos with some whitish liquid in it. My guess is that those are spices in the jars and some kind of milk or herbal drink in the thermos," she said, grinning at Blaine.

“Could you please have a little less fun with your theory?” Blaine asked firmly.

“I’m trying, Boss, but it’s really hard. And it’s not a theory, I’ve seen it!” She replied excitedly before she continued. “Then, while sipping his Winter Magic, he starts stirring a brew. He repeats this twice more with the decaf espressos and then leaves. I suppose he does it without success for now, because he has always come back so far. So, Boss... He’s either mad and thinks he’s a wizard OR... he’s trying to steal your recipe.” At the end of the sentence, Santana had the biggest devilish grin on her face, obviously extremely proud of herself and having a really good time.

Blaine, on the other hand, was overcome with rage.

“Thank you, Santana,” he squeezed the words between his teeth and turned back to the coffee machine.

“That’s it?” Santana asked, putting her hands on her hips, disappointed. “No raise or anything?”

Blaine gave her a sharp look. “You can take the day off tomorrow,” he said, and the smile returned to Santana’s face. Blaine went back to the coffee machine and started to make a fresh espresso.

-

“Hi!” Blaine stopped by Kurt’s table a few minutes later.

“Hi, wow,” Kurt looked up at Blaine in surprise. “I was just about to ask for a…”

“Yeah, I know,” Blaine interrupted, putting the serving tray he was holding on the table. “Can I sit down?” 

Although Kurt opened his mouth to reply, Blaine had already taken a seat across from him before he could say anything. 

“Um... so I was just going to ask for some coffee…” Kurt started again, a little confused, but smiling.

“You know, that’s funny. I was about to ask you the same thing,” Blaine replied with a strained smile. He took the two glasses of hot water and the two cups of espresso from the tray and placed them in front of Kurt. “This one is the decaf,” Blaine pointed to the cup on the left, then leaned back and crossed his arms, looking expectantly at Kurt.

Kurt blinked at the two cups of coffee in front of him.

“I’m sorry, I… I don’t think I understand." He looked up at Blaine and tilted his head to the side.

“I want you to make me a coffee. Like you do for yourself every morning. In MY coffee shop.”

Kurt’s mouth dropped open. “Oh my God.” He covered his face with his hands. “I’m so sorry. You must think I’m a total jerk.”

“I want you to make me a coffee.” Blaine repeated emphatically, and Kurt just noticed the man’s anger.

After a moment’s thought, Kurt started taking his equipment out of his bag; a thermos of warmed soy milk and the spices packed in small jars, even a shaker, and he started. When he was done, he pushed a cup of fake Winter Magic towards Blaine, who followed Kurt’s hands with a somber expression.

The barista stared at the cup for a while, motionless. Just as Kurt began to find the tension unbearable and thought about breaking the silence, Blaine finally reached for his drink. He took a sip of coffee and a humorless laugh escaped his lips as he placed it back on the table.

“So, where do you work?” He asked impatiently.

“What?” Kurt blinked at him.

“Where. Do. You. Work.”

Kurt raised an eyebrow, not understanding where this was coming from. Neither the question nor the attitude that seemed so out of character for this man. He decided to answer it anyway.

“At Vogue.”

Blaine blinked, confused. “Is that a new place?”

“Is that what?” Kurt frowned. “Vogue.com.” He knew he shouldn’t complain that the cute barista tried to talk to him, but this felt more like an interrogation. 

Then it suddenly hit him.

“Wait… You think I’m a spy?” Kurt’s eyes widened.

Blaine raised an eyebrow, and Kurt noticed the tension in Blaine’s body at the question.

“Aren’t you?” He asked harshly.

[physalian]

A Guide to Productive Filler

I was going to write this post about the wonders of fanfic and how it does not do the “forced miscommunication for cheap drama” trope, and it did not stay that post for long.

I’m sure it’s out there, but it’s not saturated in the most popular fics and I think I know why: Fanfic exists in contrast to the established canon, and the canon has forced miscommunication, thus fanfic looks at the perpetual failure of those plotlines and ignores it.

Nobody likes this trope, yet it keeps happening. In TV, at least in the old days when we had full seasons with appropriate and satisfying filler episodes and actual good stories and such (you know, before Disney +) TV shows were contracted to fill a minimum number of episodes and didn’t always have enough content to fill it, especially CW shows.

Enter filler episodes, which, when productive, still entertained the audience with off-beat side quests or gave more screen time to beloved side characters or explored more of the world and the lore. Filler plots meant that you could casually check in on your favorite show once a week, or miss an episode, and not feel completely lost because the plot wasn’t super tight and lean. Some of my favorite episodes of all my favorite TV shows are filler plots and just because they’re “filler,” as in, not a plot-heavy element to advance the narrative, doesn’t mean they were lacking in story.

That was good writing.

Bad filler elements were sh*t like forced miscommunication for cheap drama and it still exists even in the “mini series” that are really just long movies extended to keep people from canceling their subscriptions. TV shows may have one or two head writers, but they’re still written by committee and producers and production companies trying to milk as much from a profitable product as possible, which means they couldn’t write an efficient, epic romance that ended too quickly. They had to faff about for a few seasons before delivering to keep butts on couches tuning in to generate sweet, sweet ad revenue.

Forced miscommunication in TV shows have always made sense in that light. Yeah it’s a product of bad writing, but I can’t point at the head writer or even the staff writer alone and criticize their writing ability because it likely wasn’t their decision.

Forced miscommunication in books, however—that I have no excuse for. Books aren’t written by committee. In this case, I really can just blame the author for their bad choices, which, in turn, maybe came from their favorite TV shows and how they executed similar plot lines.

Fanfic does not do this, usually. It’s not written by committee and has no quota to fulfill to beef up the narrative with extra chapters.

—

So. You want your story to be longer, fanfic or otherwise, but you’re struggling because your plot is too thin and you don’t know where to go from here.

First, a disclaimer: Novellas exist and can be as short as they need to be.

“If I had more time, I would have written a shorter letter,” means that  just because it’s long doesn’t mean every word serves a purpose. With enough time, the writer can trim down their thoughts for conciseness and clarity, and say the same thing with better impact with less beating around the bush.

So just because it’s short doesn’t make it bad, just because it’s long doesn’t make it good. It’s about what you do with the words you’ve written.

However, if it really is a thin story lacking substance and oomph, here’s some suggestions that are not sh*t like “forced miscommunication”. These are not meant for generalized application and should be considered heavily before implementing, because any one of them can change your book for the worse by adding in unnecessary detail that distracts from the main story.

1. Consider multiple narrators

Now. I just read a rather bad book that could have lost about ⅔ of its story for a variety of reasons and told the same story in a fraction of the page count. One of those issues was giving the villain several POVs that ruined the suspense and the tension because the reader became privy to their grand plan long before the protagonist and instead of having all our questions dying to be answered with the protagonist, we were waiting around for them to stop fooling around and figure it out already.

With that said, if you have a character of second importance to the protagonist whose perspective would benefit and enrich the story, consider giving them POVs to explore either when the protagonist couldn’t be present, or in contrast to the main narrator’s thoughts on the story and conflict.

I’ve never written anything without multiple POVs and still get carried away sometimes just trying to fill in all the missing time that didn’t add enough to the story to make it worth it. I have deleted POVs from ENNS that were better left up to audience interpretation then all laid out on the table.

This technique very much necessitates restraint, but giving your foil character, your deuteragonist, even your villain some narration “screen time” might help you beef up your word count and tell more than just one biased side of the same story. Fanfic tends to be very efficient with this because, again, one writer working for free tends to want to be efficient and not give pages upon pages of useless prose.

2. Side-quests and character studies

My all time favorite filler episode of any TV show is LOST’s “The Constant”. It focuses entirely on the side character Desmond. He’s an unwilling time-traveler and throughout season 4, struggles to control his temporal displacement and risks dying if he can’t find a “constant” to anchor him to the correct timeline.

This episode is often praised as one of, if not the show’s finest hour. Desmond spends most of the runtime flipping erratically between the past and the present as his romantic relationship spirals for other plot reasons. He ends up making his “constant” his fraught relationship and is able to revert to the past with knowledge of the future to get his then-ex girlfriend’s new phone number so he can call her at an exact date in the future to prove he won’t have given up on them. When Des finally makes that call 8 years later, it’s so emotional, so full of catharsis, so exciting to see him finally reach her after struggling since we met him.

And it has absolutely nothing to do with the plot at large, only Desmond’s arc. It explores some of the world’s lore but doesn’t answer any of the main plot questions or progress any other major character, and Des is the only time traveler so all the risk surrounding time travel is only for him. Critically, it still adheres to the themes of the show and fulfills much of the promises of this character’s role in it.

The show’s worst episode, “Stranger in a Strange Land,” is also filler about protagonist Jack’s tattoos. He makes a relationship with a woman nobody cares about and spends the entirety of the episode’s flashbacks, which is most of the episode’s runtime, dicking around in Thailand. With this quasi-wise woman’s tattoo techniques. Nobody cares what they mean, they didn’t connect with the themes of the show, didn’t tell us anything substantial about Jack or the world, lore, or story, and just felt like a massive waste of time.

If you’re going to write side quests, be more like “The Constant” and less like “Stranger in a Strange Land”. 

3. “Slice of Life” moments

A repeat of referencing this scene and this movie but I don’t care: “Doc Racing” from Cars is just one example. Adding in scenes like these won’t give you tens of thousands of words, but maybe you only need a couple hundred to feel satisfied.

Slice of life moments slow the pacing down, so place them wisely, and just let your characters be people in their world. Small things, human things. In Cars, it’s an old man letting himself enjoy life again when he thinks nobody’s watching. I have a scene in my sci-fi WIP series where two brothers, plagued by their family’s social status, take a drive and pick up greasy drive-thru food to park on a mountain overlook and just watch the city while licking salt off their fingers. I think Across the Spiderverse is about 20 minutes too long, but that scene of Miles and Gwen upside down on the roof before the plot ramps up is another quiet, human moment.

It could be a character who needs a break from the breakneck speed of the plot and the stress to listen to music, walk away from the project and enjoy the sun, anything. Do try to not get overly pretentious trying to make it super metaphorical and poetic, let the audience do it for you. These quiet scenes could end up being the audience’s favorite.

—

If you’re trying to make your book longer, don’t be like Bilbo Baggins, okay? Don’t let your characters be spread thin, like butter scraped over too much bread. Add, don’t stretch. If the romance is on track to come together sooner, let it, or figure out a more meaningful way to delay it than throwing in a dumb argument that won’t mean anything in 20 pages anyway.

This wasn’t an exhaustive list, just what I think could be the most effective with the widest applications across genres.

[ninthprime]

severance 2x02 thoughts (spoilers)

you all seemed to enjoy my thoughts last time. so. let’s keep doing this

not only did i accurately predict most of this episode in my last post (they let the others back because they need mark, dylan is back because he needs to support his family, etc) but i also used the phrase “occam’s razor” and devon uses the exact same term this episode. feeling like a real severance understander over here

fellow fans of the “outie irving used to have milchick’s job” theory- do we think his scene with milchick this episode disproves it? there’s nothing specific about the scene that would completely throw it away, but i doubt they’d fire irving so easily if they knew he had unsevered knowledge of the severed floor. maybe he was severed when he had the position, and they had to re-sever him/implant a new chip/whatever that would entail? and whatever went wrong there led to managers like milchick and cobel being required to be unsevered? we pretty much know that irving worked at lumon before being a severed member of MDR (he has an early ID number but has only been in MDR for three years), so it’s a matter of connecting the dots. maybe the wrongful assumption we’re making is that he’s painting the testing floor elevator from his own memories, rather than, say, a description from someone else (reintegrated petey?).

i agree with many that there’s a reason we didn’t see the immediate aftermath of the season 1 finale for irving and burt, but i’m not sure if it’s the reason a lot of people are predicting (that they know each other outside of being severed). i feel like it may be something stranger and more lore-heavy. kind of wondering if burt is reintegrated in some way or otherwise has knowledge of irving that irving wouldn’t know about. one of my questions about season 1 that i’ve never really seen anyone else ask is “why does optics & design need to be severed?” with MDR we now know it’s because their work contributes to some sort of strange experiment with testing floor subjects (ie. miss casey), which lumon would want to keep secret, but we don’t know why O&D’s work is also hidden. my inclination is that burt knows more than he’s saying.

that said if we’re supposed to get an old gay spies vibe from outie irving/burt then i think it should have the tone of chris fleming’s description of the film heat

similarly, i think they’re keeping gretchen hidden from us not because she’s someone we already know but to make us question things when dylan gets to go to that “visitation suite.” that way they can have a big reveal that the “wife” dylan gets to meet there is fake or, maybe even more interesting, that she’s in fact his wife with no tricks involved.

and one last thing that this episode purposefully keeps from us: miss huang being assigned to milchick’s old position! that’s hiding something.

i don’t think it’s important or anything but i would love to have elaboration on the lumon chain of command and on helena and milchick’s relationship. she’s his boss but he’s also the boss of her severed self? he has to answer to her outside of the severed floor but down there he can break room torment her as needed for the sake of lumon? fucking wild. really shows how much the lumon higher-ups have driven any idea that the innies are people out of their minds- milchick can do it with the heir to the company.

thought about why i’m generally enjoying mark/helly (and gemma/mark/helly) when it’s usually not what i’d be into and this episode led me to realize it’s because of how completely fucked up it could get. yeah, let’s get the outies in here, let’s make this even more potentially cursed. we ask if love can transcend severance. if that’s true, is it always a good thing? is it the way things should be? i’m excited for the answers to feel like a hammer blow.

one thing i haven’t seen people mention about the confirmation that lumon needs mark for The Miss Casey Experiment aka Cold Harbor is that it implicitly gives a time limit for this season. if mark finishes the cold harbor file and the experiment is a success, can they just fire him and the rest of the team at that point? would they feel the need to silence any of them further as outies? hell, devon tells milchick she spoke to innie mark in this episode- does that put devon and her family under threat? i imagine this may end up being the climax of the season, along with revealing whatever cold harbor is.

my loudest reaction while watching this one was a barking laugh at the first image of milchick with the pineapple on mark’s porch. incredible

“i ate your shitty fucking cookies” is an all-time adam scott line read. and it’s good to once again be reminded why david lynch’s nickname for patricia arquette was “solid gold”

[entishramblings]

Fuck the Forbidden Pt. 2

[Boromir/F!MermaidReader]

PART 1 | PART 3 — coming soon

Fuck the Forbidden: FTF LINK MASTERLIST

A.N: my apologies for taking so much time to update: graduate school is a tornado, plus getting sick and the craziness of holidays season didn’t help. Anyways, thank you for your patience and your continuous support! I literally read all your comment in order to inspire me to write again!

Request: none

Pairing: Boromir X Fem!MermaidReader

Summary: The Reader is a Mermaid and witnessed a shipwreck. She becomes interested in human life—particularly one human: Boromir.

Disclaimer: Any mythology relating to the mermaids of middle earth is not canon. also I tried my best with arda water/river geography plz don’t come at me—it’s not one of my finer subjects :/

Word Count: 5.7k — listen, yes, I STILL have a problem

Warnings: depression, drowning, ptsd, alcoholism, angst, comfort, fluff, stalking (idk how to make that last one sound less creepy. you’re just gonna have to read it).

MASTERLIST | AO3 | WATTPAD

The following day, (Y/N) waited in the depths of the Anduin River by the entrance of the Minas Tirith castle. Sure enough, the captain, decorated in silver, came out upon his steed. Though he did not have the cheer he normally held—despite his recent struggles—he seemed….different. (Y/N) had hoped that he didn't remember what he saw under the lake. Maybe he figured he was too drunk and his mind was playing tricks on him? Maybe he would forget it all together? However, that fearful look in his eyes when he glanced at the river told her otherwise. It appeared Faramir failed to convince his brother that the mer-folk were just a myth.

Boromir deviated from his routine as well. He did not go to the market for the breakfast that he seemed to love. No, no. Instead he went out towards the edge of the city–towards the docks. And (Y/N) went with him. He passed his horse off to another and walked upon the wood, passing ship and boat, until he came upon a small fishing vessel. (Y/N) swam around it and took to the surface upon its side, far enough to not be spotted, but close enough to see and hear.

“Iwar,” Boromir called out. “You there?”

“Oi!” the old man replied, emerging from the sails. “What can I do for yer?”

“You have a moment?”

“For ye? Of course I do, lad. What is this about?” Iwar stated, squinting in the sun.

Boromir huffed, and pulled something from his pocket. He lightly tossed it to the older fellow. “What do you make of this?”

Iwar frowned, holding the whale up before his face by the string Boromir had used to make it into a necklace. “Where’d ye get it?”

“In a pond. One that connects to the Anduin River.”

Iwar sent him a strange look. “Do ye know what this is made out of?”

Boromir shook his head and shrugged his shoulders.

“It’s bone, Boromir,” he replied tentatively.

At this, the captain’s lips parted. “Bone?”

Iwar tossed the whale carving back to him. “Aye, couldn't tell ye what it came from. Whittled too much away for that. Ye said yer got it from a pond?”

He nodded, swallowing dryly.

“Could’ve washed up from the currents.” Iwar stated, nonchalantly, returning to the tasks of his sail. “Some trinket someone lost to the sea.”

Boromir dipped his head, his anxiety present as he fiddled with the whale.

Iwar glanced at him. “Something else, boy?”

Boromir inhaled slowly. “Iwar, do you–do you really believe those tales of the sea-folk?”

The old man sent a weary look at the captain as he tied off one of the ropes upon the fabric. “Aye. Saw one of em’ when I was just a lad. Nearly lost my life.”

Boromir focused his gaze upon Iwar. “I think–I think I saw one last night.”

At this, the older man froze. Slowly, he turned his full attention to the captain, dread slipping from his face.

Still, Boromir continued, trying to justify his sighting. ‘Though, I don't know. I was very drunk. Had a couple ales too many. My mind could’ve—”

“You were out on the sea last night?” Iwar interrupted, confused.

Boromir shook his head.

“The shore then? Never heard of em’ venturing so close.”

Boromir released a nervous chuckle, rubbing the back of his neck. “I, uh, I was in the pond by the Minas Tirith castle.”

Iwar’s form stiffened as he walked toward the captain. He nodded at the bone carving in Boromir’s hand as he spoke in a tone that held so much anxiety that it radiated through the air around him. “The same pond where ye found that?”

“Yes.”

Iwar’s eyes widened wildly. “I’d tell ye what, lad. Ye have been marked by em.’ And that—” he dipped his head at the whale once more. “—I reckon that's human bone.”

Blood drained from Boromir’s face, replaced with sheer panic. His fingers clumsily grappled with the carving, uncertain of how to handle it. Reluctant to make direct contact, he hesitated before settling on gripping the string, allowing the whale to dangle. Disgust etched across his brow.

“I’d get out while ye can. Stay away from the sea waters, boy.” Iwar warned.

….

That night, Boromir didn't go to the pool of water by the white walls—nor the following night. He, quite frankly, didn't go near the water at all. He stayed far from the beaches and from the Anduin River. He took longer paths to where he needed to go in order to avoid such circumstances that put him near what Iwar had described to live in the sea.

And this—all this broke (Y/N)’s heart. It stirred up a tumult of emotions—sadness, anger, fear, and frustration. Therefore, on the third day, she sought solace in a secluded nook along the Bay of Belfas. Hoisting herself onto a warm rock, she sat, enveloped in her misery. Her once-vivid fantasies of the land-people and Boromir now dissolved into sorrow and regret. What lingered was the haunting image of Boromir's disdainful expression when Iwar speculated that her gift was crafted from human bone. Any mer-folk would be delighted to receive such a heartfelt gesture! But Boromir wasn't of the sea, now was he.

(Y/N) stayed upon the rock for hours, hoping the sun would soak up her melancholy mood. However, that is not what the golden beams absorbed. Her skin dried, her hair lightened and billowed freely, and the scales on her tail lacked the moisture they once held. It was at that moment discomfort struck. Excruciating, searing pain surged through her tail, a relentless agony that prompted a deep cry from her lips. Every nerve seemed to flare with an intense, burning sensation, rendering her nearly paralyzed by the sheer intensity of the pain. She couldn't move, only shake and claw at the rock she perched upon. It felt like hours as she laid there, praying to the gods to make it end. And when it did, she instinctively reached for her scales. However, to her surprise, her hand met no such thing; instead, flesh had replaced the once-familiar tail.

(Y/N) gasped.

Her father had said…

He had tested them all…

None had the gift….

He lied.

Emotions swirled around her naked form as she stared at the strange extension that replaced her glimmering scales—legs. Anger, irritation, sadness, regret, frustration, excitement all ran through her blood.

Slowly, she stood. As she took a wobbly step upon the rock, a loud, breathy giggle escaped her lips.

Was this a dream?

(Y/N) took another uncertain step, and another, and another—until she stumbled, her hand reaching out to break her fall. However, a splash came from that, for her palm struck where water had gathered in a dip upon the rock.

Immediately, she felt it.

Her skin tingled, then burned and stung, stretching and pulling in a painful dance. (Y/N) cried out as the pain intensified. With scales attempting to form on her dry legs, the tugging became excruciating once more—tears streamed from her eyes as she desperately scrambled towards the water.

Her form slipped and rolled, right off the rock and into the ocean.

Immediate relief enveloped her. Scales continued to knit together without a hint of pain. The water soothed her. It coated the soreness into nonexistence.

(Y/N) allowed her form to sink, adjusting.

There she floated, letting her body and mind adjust to what had just happened.

It was then when one of the turmoiling emotions overtook the rest of them. It coursed through her gills and surged through her veins.

How dare he…

With a decisive flick of her tail, she propelled herself toward her father's palace.

The anger granted her remarkable speed, causing other merfolk to whip their heads around in confusion as she barreled past them.

She swam directly to the grand chamber, where she anticipated her father perched upon his throne, and busted the door open with her tail.

“HOW DARE YOU?!” she screamed at him.

Heads turned instantly—her father’s, her sisters’, the guards’.

“HOW DARE YOU LIE TO ME, FATHER. HOW DARE YOU NOT TELL ME I HAD THE GIFT?!”

Her father rose, signaling the guards to leave. They swam away quickly, avoiding the impending wrath of the sea's king and his children.

“You lied straight to my face,” (Y/N) stated.

“(Y/N), what are you talking about?” Anahita interjected, appalled by her sister’s tone.

Mareena added to her statement. “That is no way to speak to our father!”

(Y/N)'s tail flicked with irritation as she focused her gaze on the man before her. “I have the gift to walk among the land-folk.”

Una gasped. Seria’s mouth dropped open. Rana’s eyes widened. Nerida’s brows shot upwards.

Their father swam towards (Y/N). “You went to the land?!” he growled. “It is forbidden.”

“I DID NOT GO ONTO THE LAND!” She snapped back. Taking a deep breath, she spoke again. “I was letting the sun warm me upon a rock when it happened—the tingling, the splitting, the pain.”

“You went to the surface—”

“How dare you not tell me, Father!”

“I DID NOT TELL YOU BECAUSE OF THIS!” He yelled. “Because I knew the minute you would figure it out, you would want to test out your new form. You would put us all in danger.”

“YOU HAVE PUT ME IN DANGER. YOU HAVE MASKED YOUR PROTECTION IN LIES THAT HAVE ONLY CAUSED ME PAIN. HOW DARE YOU!” (Y/N) retorted.

With that, (Y/N) swam away. She twisted through the reefs and the grass. She slipped through the schools of fish and their bubbles. She slithered through the rocks and caves. She did so until she was back in the Anduin River, where the lively markets and the hustle of people's households awaited. Breaking through the water's surface, she emerged with a cautious awareness, ensuring she remained unseen.

She swam along the edge until she came upon a line of clothing strung between two buildings. On it hung sheets as bright as a lemonpeel angelfish, a skirt holding the vibrance of an orange clownfish, a flowing wrap the hue of a blue tang fish, a pair of trousers the color of a brown leafy sea dragon, a top shaded like that of a pink fairy wrasse, and a flowing dress the cream color of a stingray’s belly.

(Y/N) looked at her surroundings.

The people were on the other side of the clothing line—all mucking about in the market. None even bothered to shed a glance behind the fabric. All were too busy going about their day.

Therefore, with little regard for the forbidden nature of her actions—because, really, fuck the forbidden—(Y/N) decided to defy the rules that had once controlled her life.

Originally, she hadn't intended to act in such defiance, but the anger coursing through her veins urged her forward into impulsive urges.

Hauling her form out of the water, (Y/N) manipulated the water clinging to her, using her fingers in twisting and rippling motions. She gathered the liquid into a cohesive ball and, with a flick of her wrist, sent the sphere dancing through the air before it plopped back into the river.

The tingling sensation began, followed by the excruciating pain, and soon enough, the transformation into legs commenced.

Anxiously, (Y/N) stood. Her shaky legs wobbled as she adjusted to their unfamiliar form. Her trembling fingers swiftly seized the cream colored dress—she didn't want to stand out, she needed to blend in—and she clumsily slipped it on. Her gaze then fixated on a brilliant blue wrap. The color resonated with the deep seas she hailed from, and she couldn't resist. The mermaid grasped the silk and yanked, winding it around her hair in a manner she had observed from land women when peeking from the river. Letting some of her locks cascade out of the twisted band, the blue fabric draped over her shoulders. She smiled.

Her hand instinctively rose to her neck, where her necklace adorned with shells, sea glass, and bones encircled her skin. A frown crossed her face. She couldn't part with it—this cherished gift from her since passed mother. Therefore, she let it remain, finding that it didn't look too out of place.

(Y/N) ventured into the market, nervously navigating the bustling city of Minas Tirith with her new, wobbly legs. The vibrant atmosphere teemed with life and excitement as diverse groups came together to weave the people into the human race. So many men, women, and children—all different sizes, all different shapes, all different skin tones—bustled through the streets.

Young children ran through the tents playing games and tricks on one another. Often enough, a woman was pursuing the chase while yelling for their halt of mischief. Men were not involved in this matter. Instead, they loudly called out the names of what they sold, along with prices, at the busy passerbyers in hopes of getting a customer. Never had (Y/N) seen something so brilliantly enthralling and engaging—not in her time under the sea with the mer-folk.

As she moved through the people, she discreetly snagged what she needed. A pair of sandals disappeared from a rack, and she swiftly turned away before anyone noticed. Vibrantly colored bracelets caught her eye at a vendor's stall, and she couldn't resist snagging a few. Additionally, she plucked food from bins and baskets. She didn't know what it was—but oh how delicious it tasted when it was not dunked in the salt of the sea.

Here, (Y/N) stayed, exploring the thrill of humanity and letting their culture enrapture her senses. So much so, that she failed to notice a soldier adorned in silver until she collided with his metal-plated chest.

Her form tumbled backwards, taking an extra moment to steady.

“Are you alright, miss?” a concerned voice inquired.

(Y/N) slowly raised her head to meet a familiar face: Faramir.

Unable to find her voice, she could only nod in reply. Shyness and anxiety filled her as she backed away from the unexpected encounter.

He acknowledged her reply with a dip of his own head before turning to another soldier a little ways away. He made way towards him and gently touched his arm. “Boromir, we should get going. Father is expecting us.”

(Y/N) went still. Her inquisitive gaze shifted towards him, and indeed, there stood Boromir. His dark, sandy hair brushed upon his forehead, tousled slightly from the refreshing breeze. Vibrant blue eyes held a sternness, concealing the sadness she knew resided in his heart. His pink lips pressed into a firm line, refraining from the warmth of a smile. Boromir was clad in the silver armor and the metal weapons that she had seen him in nearly every day. He looked fit for his position as captain, his authority nearly radiating from him. Now that she was upon the land, he seemed so much bigger—so much stronger. So much more important.

(Y/N)’s cheeks began to heat, prompting her to quickly ducked behind the fabric of a tent. After giving herself a moment, she peaked out.

Though she knew she shouldn't, she found herself following them. At a safe distance, she mimicked every turn, accentuated every step, and utilized every path they took. And when the Steward's sons crossed the threshold of Minas Tirith Castle, so did she.

Instantly, she was met with just as much business as the market. Servants flooded the halls, carrying trays of fruit and platters of meat. Maids held onto neatly folded laundry and finely pressed sheets. Guards bustled about, their steel clanking as they moved through the halls, to get to their next shift, meal, or rest.

(Y/N) was so overwhelmed that she failed to notice a group of soldiers rounding the corner. As they pushed past her, a heavy shoulder slammed into her, the edge of the metal plate catching her forehead. The impact sliced the skin open, causing her to tumble backward against the wall.

Surprising her, she felt a gentle hand upon her arm, holding her steady. A soft voice that she knew all too well, that spoke words all too similar to his brother’s, filled her ears. “Are you alright, miss?”

In a daze, (Y/N) looked up at the dark sandy hair, vibrant blue eyes, and perfect pink lips of Boromir. Too stunned to speak, she merely stared at him, every thought that had occupied her mind vanishing in the moment.

Boromir turned towards the group of soldiers who had caused the commotion and knocked her down. With a tone infused with authority and anger, he snapped at them, “Watch where you are going!”

They turned, initially confused and uncertain of Boromir's reprimand until they spotted the frightened and injured girl beside him.

“What kind of soldiers are you that you let your steel hit a woman!” Boromir added, his irritation even more obvious. “Keep better track of your things—and your forms!”

The soldiers nodded, though their indifference was evident, and they shuffled away without much concern.

Boromir turned back to (Y/N), repeating his prior question, his tone gentle once more. “I apologize for the actions of my men. I will reprimand them later, but right now you are more important, yes? Miss?”

She looked up at him, blinking. He didn’t recognize her, did he?

“You’re bleeding,” he stated softly, his finger pressed gently upon her forehead.

A quiet gasp of pain escaped (Y/N)’s lips and her expressions distorted slightly.

“My apologies. I did not mean to make your pain worse. May I take you to the infirmary? We can get that treated.”

Unsure what to say—and what an infirmary was—she nervously dipped her head.

“Alright,” he began. “Let’s get you moving.”

Gently, he helped her move away from the wall, one arm wrapped around her waist. However, with a couple steps, her vision swirled and she stumbled.

Boromir caught her quickly. “Whoa, whoa. Slow down. Just a step at a time.” His brows pulled together as he looked down at her. “Are you dizzy? Is the room spinning?”

“I—I,” she stuttered. “Y-yes, uh, sir.”

He released a heated breath from his nose, the anger at the men who had harmed her simmering within him. However, he pushed it away, ensuring his attention remained on her. "How about you sit back down? Lean against the wall to keep you upright, yes?"

(Y/N) nodded, allowing him to help lower her to the stone floor. As the coldness rushed through her bones and the stillness began to steady, she looked up at him. “T-thank you,” she whispered. “Uh, sir.”

The captain smiled softly. “You may call me Boromir.”

She nodded slightly.

Boromir looked up and stopped a passing servant. “Could you please fetch me a medical kit from the infirmary? Just basic supplies.”

The man nodded, accepting the order, and rushed off. Moments later, he returned with various materials in a small box.

Boromir expressed his gratitude as he opened the kit. Without hesitation, he took hold of a soft cloth and gently swiped it upwards, collecting the blood that was now trickling down (Y/N)’s forehead. He then pressed it against the cut that was bleeding rather heavily. "Hold this there," he commanded gently.

The woman reached up to follow his instructions, and Boromir proceeded to lay out an array of little bottles and scraps of cloth. "What is your name?" he inquired as he doused a cloth in the liquids of one of the containers.

Her eyes followed his motions nervously. “(Y/N),” she replied timidly.

The Captain smiled, attempting to provide some comfort. “Are you from around here, (Y/N)?”

She shook her head.

“No? What are you doing in these parts then?” He asked.

“I—I don’t know.”

Boromir frowned, looking up at her from the medical supplies. She appeared more disoriented than he had initially expected. Perhaps the blow to the head was more substantial than he had thought?

“You don’t know?” He questioned, no alarm in his tone. Meanwhile, he began threading a needle, preparing it for the task of stitching her forehead. “Have you come with anyone? A husband? A father?”

She frowned, a blush creeping into her face at the implications of his words. “N-no. Alone.”

Boromir pressed his lips together, a sudden loneliness hitting him—one that he knew all too well—as he placed the threaded needle upon a clean cloth.

“Do you have a place to stay?”

She shook her head.

“Hmm. Alright. Let’s get you cleaned up, then we can worry about that.”

Boromir took the cloth from her forehead, his hand brushing upon hers as he did so. He then began bringing a damp cloth towards her face.

Instantly, her eyes went wide and she ducked away from the material. “It’s alright. It’s alright. It’s just alcohol.” He replied, lowering the cloth.

“N-not water?” She whispered, almost fearful.

He shook his head. “Nay. Water would not clean it properly. This will prevent any infection, though I’m afraid it will sting a bit. Is that alright?”

Slowly, (Y/N) nodded.

Boromir pressed the cloth to the cut and, instantly, she hissed.

“I know, I am sorry,” he murmured.

Gently, he cleaned the wound, being careful to not make any sudden movements that may startle her. When he was certain it was clean, he moved to pick up the needle.

“I will have to stitch it back together so it heals properly.” He looked into her worried gaze and he instantly felt guilt tugging at his heart. It appeared she had never experienced such an injury, or perhaps she had but never received proper treatment for one.

Cautiously, he used his other hand to pick up her own. Her soft palms brushed upon his hardened calloused, gentleness upon her touch. Placing her hand upon his knee, he spoke softly, “If it hurts too much just squeeze really really hard, and I will pause, alright? It is important that you keep your head still, yes?”

She nodded, adjusting her grip upon his knee, a mixture of anticipation and anxiety in her eyes.

Slowly, Boromir began the delicate task of stitching her skin back together. Her grip tightened upon him, only slightly, as she adjusted to the strange sensation of tugging on her skin.

"You are doing beautifully, (Y/N). We are almost done. I promise," the Captain reassured her. As he finished the last stitch and skillfully moved the thread to knot itself, he breathed out, "There we go," placing the needle back upon the cloth. He smiled gently, a reassuring warmth in his eyes, as he carefully cleaned the area around the stitches. "All finished," Boromir stated before leaning back, (Y/N)’s hand slipping from his knee.

“It will be sore for a bit,” he said. “But it should heal in a week. The stitching will fall out on its own, so if it starts to come out, do not worry. Though, I would advise you not to get it wet.”

At that last sentence, (Y/N) smiled softly. She wasn’t planning on getting wet—not anytime soon.

“Can you stand? Has the dizziness subsided?”

The woman nodded and slowly rose to her feet, taking Boromir’s hand when he offered it.

“Let’s find you a place to rest while you heal. And I would like to apologize for my soldiers’ actions once more. You are welcome to stay in Minas Tirith as long as you would like. I will make sure you get everything you need.”

(Y/N) looked up at his kind expression and spoke with that same nervous hesitancy. “Thank you.…Boromir.”

The captain guided her through the castle, arriving at a room. He opened the door and gestured inside with a soft smile. "It is yours to stay in. I will ensure the maids are alerted to provide you with adequate care. If you need anything else, my chambers are just down the hallway to the right, the second door."

She nodded in reply.

He bowed his head. “I will leave you then, miss.”

With that, he was gone.

(Y/N) moved to the center of the room and slowly spun around taking it all in. It was massive and airy. The windows were wind open, the sea breeze rushing in and caring hints of the city. The white curtains blew with that gentle wind, dancing in its whispers. The walls of the chamber were adorned with intricate tapestries depicting only what she could assume to be the legendary tales of the city. They were woven with beautiful silver and turquoise thread, catching the light so delicately. A bed sat in the middle of the room, soft white blankets and comforters piled on it. (Y/N) walked towards it and gently sat upon the fabric. It was….strange. Very different from the large shells she was used to curling up in.

Feeling a sudden tiredness take over her form, she laid down with ease. Resting her head upon the pillow, she allowed sleep to consume her.

…….

When she finally woke, the sun had set, and the stars took their place among the blanket of the sky. Cautiously, she pulled her legs from the cage of blankets and let them dangle off the side of the bed. They looked so….strange upon her form. She was used to her glimmering tail that collected light to share among the waters. Not—not this. She lowered her feet upon the stone floor, almost startled by the coldness that greeted them.

Hunger settled into her stomach as she moved towards the door. However, she found herself at a loss, unsure where to find a meal at this time. The markets were long since closed and she knew not where the kitchen in the Minas Tirith castle was. Of course, she could wander down to the tavern that Boromir frequented regularly—she knew the way well enough, but she didn't have any means to pay.

(Y/N) shifted on her feet. Boromir did say she could come to him if she needed anything….

Almost as if it were an excuse to see him again, she slipped through the door and began following his directions to his chambers. With every step, her heart pounded harder. She would get to see him again—and it wouldn't be through layers of water.

Upon arrival, the door stood ajar, allowing a whisper of cold air to drift from his open windows. Cautiously, she peered into the room. It was shrouded in darkness, with only the soft glow of the moon reflecting upon the vast room—oh, and what a beautiful room it was. The room eluded a captivating chaos, in the most exciting way. Tablets and shelves were filled with various items—maps, books, stones, germs, inventions, and trinkets. The room held a multitude of objects, each beckoning to be looked at, studied, and pondered—igniting a sense of wonder and an urge to guess the intention. Oh, it was a captivating sight.

“Boromir?” she called out.

Silence.

Slowly, (Y/N) stepped in. She let her feet carry her throughout the room, her hand brushing upon every object that her eyes could consume. She picked things up, examined them, then put them down for another. She did so continuously, urgently, the thirst for knowledge of the humans’ customs eager in her blood. She did so, until she came across something familiar—something she was surprised to see.

(Y/N) picked up the bone carved whale from the shelf that it rested on.

He had kept it.

A little grin formed on her face, for after his conversation with Iwar she didn’t think he would.

“Does that one interest you?” A soft tone asked.

(Y/N) jumped, startled.

Boromir chuckled lightly, stepping into the room. “I am sorry. I didn't mean to startle you.”

She glanced down at the whale carving before looking back to him.

“I am not quite sure how that one came into my possession,” he continued as he moved to stand beside her.

She frowned, looking up. Her eyes were now direct at him, focused and stern—for the first time since he had met her. He would be lying if he said it didn't startle him a bit.

“You don't remember?” she asked, her tone strong.

“Well, no it’s not that. Of course, I remember how I got it. It just was a bit peculiar.”

(Y/N) tilted her head, not understanding.

Boromir sighed, his tone was distant as he spoke, his blue gaze not wavering from her curious eyes that suddenly seemed so bold. “A friend of mine says it's a dark omen, ment to mark me for death.” His vision trailed across her face. “He says it is made of the bone of my fallen brothers, urging me to follow them to their deaths.”

“Do you believe that?”

He blinked, his gaze lingering upon the whale. “I do not know what to believe.” Boromir looked at her expression. “What are your thoughts on such a statement?”

(Y/N) shrugged, placing the whale in its spot upon the shelf. “I believe people don’t understand other cultures and customs. I believe they make their own assumptions out of ignorance and fear.”

The captain raised a brow at her intelligence. “You are feeling better then?”

“Hmm?” (Y/N) hummed in question as she moved to another object.

“Well, that is the most I have heard you speak since I met you. You are wiser than you appear to be.”

She only shrugged in response, picking up a telescope and looking through its glass—by the wrong end.

“Though,” Boromir continued in a teasing manner as he plucked the object from her grasp, turned it the correct way, and placed it back in her palms. “That wisdom seems not to extend to everything.”

She frowned, looking through the glass once before placing it down. She then went for a music box, her confused expression deepening. “We do not have all these….these things where I am from.”

Boromir reached across her and twisted the little lever, releasing the gentle music from its hold. “And where is that, may I ask?”

At the twinkling sound, her smile, born of pure delight, extended from her expression. Her response to his question, however, was only that of a simple word, “Far.”

The captain raised a brow. “How far?”

(Y/N) shot him a strange look, placing the music box down and picking up a crystal sphere instead. “You ask a lot of questions,” she mumbled.

He grinned playfully. “You do not seem to give many answers, Miss (Y/N).”

She glared at him.

With that playful smile, he spoke again. “Would it help if you got to ask a question?”

(Y/N)‘s eyes crinkled with thought as she placed the object down and turned towards him. She saw how his shoulders slumped ever so slightly, how the circles under his eyes appeared so dark, how his expression was so hollow. Softly, she spoke again. “Why are you so sad, Boromir?”

Taken aback by this, his lips parted. “I—I do not know what you mean.”

She took a step closer to him, a step that nearly eliminated the space between them, and her piercing gaze burned up at him for the truth.

Hesitantly, he whispered that truth, as if she compelled it right out of him. “I—I recently was in a shipwreck. I thought, well, I thought I was dead—left for the watery graves below.” He paused, just for a moment. “But yet I am here and I do not know why. And, I am beginning to question things that I know, well, thought I knew, for the world appears different now.”

Silence.

Boromir's soft voice then picked up again, his breath warm upon the woman’s face. “Why are you so sad, (Y/N)?”

At this, her shy nature returned. (Y/N) turned her head away, not wanting to look at the source of her sadness.

Gently, Boromir tugged on her chin, forcing her to look at him. “You implored me to tell you such a truth,” he whispered. “May I not ask the same of you?”

(Y/N)’s tone was soft. “My truth is complicated.”

“Are not all truths complicated?” he responded.

With that, she withdrew from his grasp—a hold she desperately craved—and created enough distance between them, leaving him to wonder if such closeness had occurred at all.

A loud grumble then echoed through the dark room—splitting the darkness with something else, something much for lighthearted.

“When have you last eaten?” Boromir asked.

Her brows pulled together as she looked at her stomach.

He chuckled, offering her his hand. “Come. Let’s get you some food. I can take you to my favorite place.”

“But I—I have no coin,” she whispered shyly.

“You are a guest of Gondor, Gondor will see you fed.”

(Y/N) smiled, that innocent gaze returning. She hesitantly took his hand and he led her through the castle and towards the tavern.

The two arrived at the tavern rather quickly. Urine, stale ale, and sweat flooded (Y/N)’s nostrils—familiar aromas reminiscent of her vigilant watch over Boromir along the Anduin River. The lively atmosphere enveloped the pair. In the corner, a bard sang to the patrons, his melodic voice resonating throughout, enticing some to join in. Drunk men, tapping their feet along to the beat of the tune, howled in laughter and glee as they clinked their ales together and shoveled food into their mouths. Requests for additional drinks prompted maidens, adorned in long skirts and aprons, to gracefully deliver brimming glasses, the foaming liquid sloshing about.

(Y/N) smiled, taking in the environment.

Boromir cast a glance at her out of the corner of his eye, a smirk pulling at the corner of his lips. “It’s just a tavern.”

She turned to him, her grin unwavering. “We don’t have taverns where I am from.”

He raised a brow. “And where is that? You never said.”

She shrugged. “Far.”

(Y/N) moved deeper into the tavern, with Boromir following suit. He motioned towards an available table, and they both took a seat. Before long, a serving maiden approached. Boromir signaled for two meals and two ales, and they promptly arrived.

The woman wasted no time and eagerly indulged in her food, swiftly emptying the plate.

Boromir tried to suppress a smile as he saw this, for he was glad she was getting proper nutrition after her likely long and hard journey. He, of course, wished to know more of her origins; though, he could see she wasn't quite ready to discuss such things. Instead, he opted to answer any and all questions she had which began with her curious tone.

“Boromir, would you be willing to tell me of your city? How you live in these parts? I wish to know.”

His soft gaze made contact with hers and he nodded, chewing his food and swallowing before he spoke. “What would you wish to know?”

“Everything—its structures, its people, its culture, its history.”

Therefore, Boromir spoke of such things. He described the White City's towering architecture, the valor of its people, and the complexities of the various beliefs held. He relayed its history and tales, showcasing the values of the Gondorian people.

His narratives ignited a spark in her eyes, drew laughter from her lips, and filled her heart with joy.

Fuck the forbidden indeed.

As the hours stretched on, Boromir’s friends joined them. (Y/N) could see the gleam in their eyes and catch the less-than-subtle teasing tones as they whispered about Boromir bringing a lady to their tavern. Faramir, arriving shortly after, seemed prepared for a night of dealing with his drunken brother, only to find himself pleasantly surprised by his brother's apparent sobriety and the joy the unknown woman seemed to bring to his melancholy soul.

Yet, amid the cheerful atmosphere, a pair of shifting gray eyes belonging to an old man that (Y/N) recognized as Iwar, kept her uneasy heart alert.

…..

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[alevolpe]

Hello! I plan on doing a Sailor Moon rewrite later on next year (bc i have a lot of shit to do in the entirety of my 3rd year of university) and I'd like to know what issues you have with each season of sailor moon. You don't have to name all of them, just name the biggest problem(s) you have with each season!! I hope I am not troubling you :3

Hi! You're no trouble at all! Thank you for asking, I'm humbled you're interested in hearing my opinion.

Ok, let's see. Before I start I wanna say, these are MY opinions based on also how I'm doing my own rewrite AU thingy, so don't take it personally if I don't want to include elements or characters you love. (Most fo the time it doesn't even mean I don't like those characters in canon, I just don't think they'd fit with the specific narrative I have in my mind)

I'll say for Season 1, my biggest issue is the amount of time it takes to get everyone in the cast. By the time we get Mina it's like what, over 3/4ths of the season in? I like that the show takes its time introducing everyone and giving the girls some organic bonding time in the filler, but there's better ways to do it imo. That's why I have Usagi be the last to awaken and meet an already tranformed Ami and Rei, so we don't totally break from Usagi being the center at first. We can use her as a vessel to get to know these new people and this crazy new identity at the same time she does, letting us know more about her too in the process, while not slowing the pace of the story to a crawl. As we get to know more, you can introduce the rest of the girls and break from the main group to catch glimpses of Mako and Mina, to later unite them. But that's my fix, there's other ways to fix the slow introductions, just.. don't maybe go manga style and spend only one ep per girl and immediately move on to the next, give them time to breathe.

My main issue with Season 2 is the time travel. The show does NOT know its own rules and that is a recipe for disaster, once you introduce an ally that is able to time travel, you got a LOT in your hands. Everything in the show could be solved with one travel through time, but they never do. Why? Cause otherwise the show wouldn’t exist. It leaves too many possibilities and questions that is not ready to answer. Idk how one could fix it, I'm sure there's many ways you could, I just have 0 interest in incorporating time travel in sm.

With Season 3 I'd say it's the introduction of the whole Pharaoh 90 or Mistress 9 thing. I don’t know, I know they are the main baddies, but like.. just make Saturn the main threat, she already basically is. That's my problem with it, I'm sure a ton of people disagree, but I'd rather the season just focus more on Saturn, Haruka, Michiru and Pluto, I don't need another "queen Nehellenia" type villain that gets introduced 2 seconds before the end. And I lovee Eudial and Mimete, but we don't need 5 of them. I'd just make those 2 Tomoe's assistants and that's that. Too many villains, especially if you're not going to do a motw format.

With Season 4.. uff where do I even begin. Tbh I scratch the whole season and do a ground up rebuilding project, but if I HAVE to stick with the canon structure I'll say make Nehellenia more present. She's THE BEST part of SuperS, make her more present and more threatening. Give her that mirror power from the get go, make her appear in mirrors, reflections, show her subtly , in the background, give the season a subtle but palpable atmosphere of unease, make her scary. I WANT TO BE SCARED of her! Also unrelated, but get RID of the S*A metaphor with the 3 eyes.

With Stars the whole pacing the season is a mess. The start is way too slow and the end is rushed as fuck. Introduce Galaxia as a present threat earlier, again idk how you'd do that exactly while keeping the episodic tempo of the show, but my solution is. Don't! Lol

[latteenightss]

Hii! Just another rant about obx. I wanna share my predictions about season 5 and what I think they’re gonna do

Chase Stokes (John B) mentioned that season 5 will be their best one, which it could be but I think for a lot of viewers just the fact that JJ won’t be there at all might ruin the season if yk what I mean.

And now to my predictions

1. I think season 5 will be Kiara’s season, with the way season 4 ended it’s obvious she’s gonna lash out and go through a lot. She’s gonna need to deal with grief and her revenge era might be a bit brutal 😊

Also maybe she will be somehow related to the treasure? Or just connected slightly. Like season 1 we had John B, season 2 it was Pope. Season 3 now- idk I guess Sarah but Kie also had a bigger role, like when that dude kidnapped her and then she got sent off to that camp but that’s it, then her plot line was about Jiara, and season 4 was obv JJ.

And since we’re talking about JJ, y’all.. ik it’s hard but he’s not coming back 😭 obx is not supernatural, a wish won’t bring him back to life. Like I don’t think JJ will crawl out of sand.

I generally love the idea of Kie finally having her main character moments and just making her more important to the story.

2. We will get Riara. And I definitely don’t mean that in a romantic way because that’s not happening! Madison (the actress of Kie) hates Riara 😭 but I think we will see them as duo and just get more of those tension scenes that we got so far. I feel like that might be a way the writers will try to “replace” Jiara. Jiara was a huge ad for the show and lately so has been Riara.

I feel like almost eveyone loves the tension between those two and the writers know that. Also Rafe breaking up with Sofia- yea they’re definitely building up to some sort of storyline with Kiara and Rafe. The amount of people obsessed with Riara is insane and obv they have to give us something so..

Riara s5 is pretty much guaranteed.

3. I wanna talk about Sarah and John B- obviously a huge plot line will be their child. I don’t know if the child will be born at the end or during season 5. How I see it, I’m leaning more toward the end but we’ll see.

There’s not much else that can really happen with them. John b will also be in a revenge era since his best friend was killed and Sarah will definitely get closer with Rafe, that hug they shared was so cute and needed but otherwise I really don’t know! I doubt they’ll kill them off. I was thinking that the way John B narrates obx maybe that’s him in the future telling his child about their story? That would make sense honestly.

4. Pope and Cleo umm so. I honestly am not as interested in their story line and it’s interesting because I have no idea what they will do with them.

I think Pope might be kind of more cold in season 5- as we know he shot a person right in the head, and he was so scared about that. Also he lost JJ- his best friend and they want to send him to the military. Dude is not doing the best! 💀

Cleo.. I don’t know she’s such a complicated character, she went through a lot in her life but I doubt they’ll really expand her character in season 5.

5. Rafe!!!! His character development this season was insane. In my opinion he should stick with the pogues but I wouldn’t be surprised if he somehow betrayed them. That’s Rafe- he’s not a good person but I wouldn’t say he’s necessarily bad..

Like I already said in obx 5 there will be Rafe and Kie duo, and more of Sarah and Rafe for sure. But maybe he will connect with the other pogues too.

I just don’t want the development to be thrown away, I hope they make him stick with the pogues.

6. And now finally the ending/possible deaths.

The characters who in my opinions are most in danger are: Kiara and Rafe

Especially Kiara.. here’s the thing, since JJ is dead and she already went through the whole group 😭 what can her ending actually be? Like ok she could just end up alone with her friends, her family but in my opinion her death would make sense. She would be with JJ and I think in general it is a good end for her.

Rafe like i mentioned is a complicated character, it would be so easy for the writers to just kill him off at the end. But I would be honestly so mad!!! Like no JJ and no Rafe 😭. Yeah I don’t want them to do that but at the same time, I think there’s definitely a possibility.

Sarah and John B definitely safe in my opinion.

Cleo and Pope- now I don’t know, I think they’re safe. Maybe Cleo.. but still I don’t think so.

Groff- definitely done for! ❤️ I hope Kiara tortures him to death 🥰

[inconspicuousdreamgirl]

Unpopular opinion but I don’t like Vickie as a love interest for Robin. Why? Let me explain

Every relationship in stranger things, Wether it be romantic or a platonic relationship, has been built and developed overtime and over the seasons. Almost every single character has a developed relationship or friendship with another character. But for robins love interest there is no build up at all.

Examples

- Nancy and Jonathan: their relationship has been developing since season 1 and over season 2 which led them to getting together. We see in season 1 and 2 how they built a relationship starting with a team up: friendship which grew and developed into a romantic relationship.

- hopper and Joyce : since season 1 they have built this relationship and paved the way for it since day one. Was it an easy process? No because the didn’t officially get together until season 4. But it was such a great development and build up, and because of this build up it feels more connected and more well written

Lucas and max: although the build up to their relationship was alot shorter compared to others, you can see how they started off as friends and developed over season 2 and this continues in season 3. For season 4 we see the aftermath of season 3 and how it affected their relationship, which put it at a halt. But over the season they developed their bond and relationship back and were able to reconnect.

Byler : although not canon there’s no denying that they have built the connection and relationship between mike and will over the seasons. If they become canon it will be well done and well developed for both characters, as we got to see both characters progress over the seasons and wether you think it’s platonic or romantic that’s your own interpretation but either way it’s still good relationship building and development.

There’s loads more relationships and friendships that have had this sort of build up and development over the seasons.

My main point is that Vickie only seemed to be only introduced as a love interest for robin and not much to her character and had practically nothing to do with season 4 at all. Instead of having her character develop a friendship which can evolve into a romantic relationship with Robin, they just gave a love interest that has no buildup or no connection.

Just to be Clear I ship Ronance so this might be biased but robin in season three barely knows Nancy and assumes what she is like. In season 4 both Nancy and robin seem tense when around eachother at first. But gradually this friendship between them develops over the seasons and we see an amazing connection form. This would be a perfect opportunity for a relationship to form, or atleast how it should be done.

For robins character they need to develop it rather than just give her an interest because otherwise it has no connection and is not interesting. I wish they atleast developed Vickie’s character differently so it would be a good ship, but it’s just lacking.

Note : this is just my opinion, but I feel they needed to write her character to be more involved. I think her character does have some potential. But maybe it’s just me but I found her character was way to similar in persona and in character to robin, so I struggle to ship them due to this and that there is no interesting development or moments between them. Maybe this will change in season 5 but I want robin to have a relationship that has pining, grows over time and has connections and build up!!!!