#or if he has even shown his face to george for that matter

[aquitainequeen]

Here I am, hours later, still crying about Furiosa and Praetorian Jack. George Miller, Nico Lathouris, Anya Taylor-Joy and Tom Burke are geniuses. They completely sold me on just how much these characters loved each other.

Furiosa coming out of a nightmare, wielding a knife, to be caught by Jack. He doesn’t say it’s all right or that she’s safe, she doesn’t say it was just a bad dream. They don’t say anything. Jack eases her back down to her cot and they settle down, aware of each other.

Jack stitching up Furiosa’s shoulder in a hidden spot in the Citadel, Furiosa showing Jack the peach seed that she’s kept hidden in her hair for so long, proving that the Green Place is out there, asking him to come with her, pressing her forehead to his while cupping the back of his head, showing him her love in the manner of her people, and him returning the gesture. After fifteen years, she’s finally going home, and he’s coming with her.

And then...

Spoilers beyond here!!!

And then:

The battle of the Bullet Farm, which is where the strength and force of their love really started to batter me. Furiosa manages to avoid the ambush and get out of the Farm before the gate closes, and Jack could easily have slipped through the gate to join her, but he sees the enemy forces mustering and knows they’ll quickly be hunted down if there's nothing to stop their pursuers. He shoots off a green flare that clearly tells Furiosa to abandon him and get the hell out of there, intending to sacrifice himself so that she has a chance to escape and set off for the Green Place. Furiosa does drive off, but gets maybe five metres before she decides ‘fuck this’ and goes back in to try and save him. And she saves him from his pursuers and she saves him from falling to his death, and they get to their escape vehicle and drive off, with nary a word spoken or exchanged until they’re on the flat and heading for freedom. And even then, all that’s mentioned is what direction they should take to reach the Green Place. That's it. They don’t need anything else. They survived, they got out, they're together, they’re going to be all right.

And they almost make it. They almost get away.

When they’re captured by Dementus and forced onto their knees, there’s no special close up on them; mostly they’re on the edge of the shot while Dementus is ranting centre stage or screaming into their faces. They pay no heed to him. That love infuriates Dementus. He shrieks, he tears at them, but he can’t break them. He doesn’t matter. What matters is that they spend their last moments touching each other, leaning into each other, pressing their foreheads together, breathing deep, loving each other.

There are no parting words between Furiosa and Jack, no declarations or promises or screams of despair, but it hit me so hard and cut so deep that the second to last time we see Jack’s face, he’s craning desperately to see what’s happening to Furiosa, trying to get one final precious glimpse of her, before he’s quite literally dragged to his awful death.

We don’t see Furiosa’s reaction to her torture on multiple fronts, as she is strung up by her maimed arm and forced to watch Jack die. We’ve seen her scream and weep for her mother, but this moment is hers alone. It’s not for us.

How fitting it is that Jack saves Furiosa one last time, as his execution distracts Dementus and his crew from noticing that Furiosa has cut off her own arm to escape.

The last time we see Jack’s face is in Furiosa’s last nightmare.

Furiosa doesn’t mention Jack in her final showdown with Dementus, when she screams about her mother and her stolen childhood. But from what’s shown to us, I think that the spot in the Citadel when she imprisons Dementus and grows the peach tree in the midst of his emaciated, maggot-ridden body…is the same place where Jack stitched up her wounded shoulder, where she showed him the peach seed, where she asked him to come with her to the Green Place and he accepted, where she showed him her love in the manner of her people, where they embraced. Where she avenged herself and Jack, upon the man who destroyed their lives.

Where Furiosa now plucks the first fruit of the tree to bring to the Five Wives, whom she will bring with her to the Green Place.   

[georgie-weasley]

Tutor G.W. x Fem!Reader

Warnings: I think one swearword

Word Count: 3k

Paring: George Weasley x Fem!Reader

Summary: George thinks the best way to get to know you is to pretend he needs a tutor

A/N: This has nothing to do with a birthday but I wrote it yesterday as my birthday gift to myself because I wanted it.

Masterlink Taglist

George Weasley was not stupid by any means; he just chose to spend his time focusing on other things besides school. Him and his twin probably could get amazing grades if they wanted to but they didn’t want to. Both of them were fine being subpar in school because that wouldn’t matter anyway. However, George was always fantastic at Transfiguration. Though he would mess around and get on every single one of McGonagall’s nerves, he always managed to get the work done and ace the tests. Until recently that is.

The bell signaling the end of class rang and the students gathered their things. George laughed at something Fred said as he shoved his most recent test into his bag. “Mr. Weasley.” Came McGonagall’s voice from the front of the room. The Weasley twins turned to face her. “George, come here please.”

George sighed and waved to his brother. “I’ll see you at lunch.”

As Fred left, George made his way over to McGonagall’s desk. She glanced at him over the rim of her glasses, her face stern. “What can I do for you Minerva?” Her glare worsened and George cleared his throat. “I meant to say, what did I do now Professor?”

McGonagall sighed and folded her hands on her lap. “George, what’s happening to your grade? I know you usually only care about the minimum grade required to continue Quidditch in your other classes but typically, if you can believe it, you’re one of my top students.”

George shifted from foot to foot, unsure of what to tell her. He wasn’t about to tell her that he and his brother are planning on opening a joke shop after school. If she knew, he was sure she would disapprove or tell his mother. He was in his seventh year so really he knows he should be focusing on school and his grades but he wasn’t interested. “Just been busy.”

The look on her face told George she didn’t believe a word he said. “George, let's be honest. You have never studied for my class since your first year. I’ve seen you pay attention maybe 10 times. However, you still managed to get some of the best scores in your class, even your whole year. Want to fill me in on the actual reason your grades have dropped?”

George chewed on his lip as he debated telling her the truth. He could already hear Fred’s whining if he did tell McGonagall the truth but she was staring at him and likely wouldn’t stop until he spilled the beans. “Fred and I are planning to open a joke shop after school so really we don’t need to work hard in school.”

McGonagall sighed and shook her head. George was prepared for her to tell him it was a horrible idea; everyone else he bothered to tell thought they were idiots for wanting that. “I think it’s a wonderful idea but you can’t stop trying in your classes. I hate to do this but with your grade as is, you’re not allowed to participate in any Quidditch matches until your grade improves.”

“But Professor you can’t! The first game of the season is in three months. I have to play.” George went from elated to have her support to more heartbroken than he ever had been within seconds.

“I can and I just did. Now, I’ve taken the liberty of asking my top student to be your tutor. Once your grade has shown improvement, then you can go back to Quidditch.”

George knew there was no way to convince her to change her mind. Maybe if it hadn’t been his final year playing Quidditch, he wouldn’t have minded as much. George loved the sport but he could have lived without it for a few months if he had to. He didn’t want to but if he was forced, he would have survived. Being his last year at Hogwarts, he wouldn’t get any more games after the year was over so he had to make the most of it. Besides, maybe he could ditch the tutor and figure this all out on his own. Now that he was thinking about it, he hoped his tutor wasn’t horrible. “Who did you assign to be my tutor?”

At that moment, the door to the classroom opened and you walked in, your arms filled with books. He watched you with wide eyes, entranced by you. He’d seen you around the castle before but he never got the chance to speak with you. While he was causing chaos everywhere he went, you were always studying. George also knew that you were in the highest level class in all of your subjects; his know-it-all brother Percy would be pissed to know you were smarter than him. There was no denying how smart you were but George didn’t realize until this moment just how beautiful you were. Sure, he thought you were gorgeous from a distance but now that he was seeing you this close, gorgeous wasn’t enough to describe just how stunning you were. He should probably stop staring at you but he couldn’t take his eyes off of you.

“Miss Y/N? Please come see me.” McGonagall sounded like she was speaking through a tunnel. Her voice seemed to be so far away from George he wondered if you had actually put a spell on him. You set your belongings down on a desk before making your way up to the front of the room. With each step you took, George could feel his heart speeding up and his lungs struggling to get air.

“Yes Professor?” George stared at your lips as you spoke. He felt a little like a creep but he couldn’t stop watching.

“I was hoping you would be willing to tutor Mr. Weasley. I’d be happy to give you some extra credit if that would help.”

George held his breath, waiting for your answer. He was hopeful you would say yes even if it was just for the extra credit. “Sure.” George felt like he was flying on the fastest broom known to wizards after hearing your answer. The bell rang, meaning George would be late for charms but McGonagall had thought that through and handed him a note to explain his late arrival. McGonagall moved away from her desk, gathering papers from the students as you turned to George.

He could see your mouth moving but he couldn’t hear a single word coming from you. George saw your face contort into the most beautiful frown. What happened to make you so upset? Was it him? He searched your face for any indication on what could have gone wrong when you crossed your arms over your chest. “George? Can you meet me in the library after dinner?” You snapped your fingers in his face, causing him to come back down to earth.

“Oh, yeah sure. I can do that.”

With a roll of your eyes, you walked away from him and sat in your seat. McGonagall ushered him out of her class as he tried to wrap his brain around what just happened. Well, he had until tonight to get himself together.

---

After dinner, George made his way to the library, a room in the castle he hardly ever visited. Almost right away, George spotted you. Towards the middle of the room you sat at a table surrounded by books. With a little spring in his step, he bounded over to you, sliding into the seat across from you. “Hello Y/N. How are you this evening?”

You ignored him, grabbing a book and setting it in front of him. “Professor McGonagall said that you’ve been falling behind the past few months so I figured we could start easy to make sure you aren’t completely incompetent.” You dropped a handful of buttons onto the table and looked at him expectantly. “Turn them into beetles.”

George smiled and waved his wand, easily turning the buttons into colorful beetles that started to scurry away. Before you could react, he waved his wand again and they turned back into beetles.

“Follow me.” You grabbed your things and walked out to the courtyard, George following close behind. The courtyard was full of other students messing around before it was time for bed. He saw quite a few students with bright orange and purple boxes; he would have to tell Fred he saw their products being used out in the wild. George was too distracted watching the other people he didn’t see that you had stopped, causing him to ram right into you. You stumbled backwards and George shot his arm out to catch you around your waist, saving you from falling into the fountain.

“Sorry.” He mumbled, a crooked smile on his face. You scowled, trying to keep your own smile hidden. He was cute, you could admit that. However, he was loud and obnoxious and clearly didn’t care about anything but himself.

You cleared your throat and moved his arm away from you. His cheeks turned almost as bright red as his hair which you found to be endearing. “Turn this rock into a frog.” You picked up a rather large rock from the ground and set it on the edge of the fountain. With ease, George did as you asked and made a perfect frog.

The series of tests continued. You would tell George to transfigure something and he would do it without issue. Even the harder spells he did perfectly. This made no sense to you. Why would McGonagall claim that he needed a tutor when clearly he could do everything just fine? “Are you pretending to be stupid or something?” You finally asked George as you both walked in the castle, heading to your common rooms.

George looked at you in surprise. “What do you mean? I need a tutor.”

“No you don’t George. You did every spell perfectly. Even the one I gave you from my class which you are not in. You’re smart. On Monday I’m going to tell McGonagall you don’t need any help.”

Absolutely not. There was no way he was going to just let you go like that. You were far too smart to be in any of his classes and you were never around when he had any free time. No, George wanted to spend time with you no matter what. “Can we at least meet up again tomorrow just to make sure I know everything?”

You crossed your arms over your chest, sure there had to be some sort of trick forming in his brain. “Fine. Tomorrow at the lake at three. Don’t be late.”

“Wouldn’t dream of it.”

---

The next day, George waited by the lake for you, a plan forming in his head. It wasn’t his best plan but George knew if he wanted to see you again, something would have to happen. As you approached the lake, you watched George. He was much more calm when he was alone, something that you really liked. While you hardly ever spoke to him before yesterday, you had seen him around school with his brother and friends. He was so loud and open and just excited to be alive so it seemed. He was very different now on his own but you liked it. It was easier to admire his handsome features when they were relaxed. Though, he was very handsome when he was laughing and smiling too. You could even argue he was more attractive when he was happy but it was just easier to see him like this.

George spotted you and a wide bright smile crossed his face. He jumped to his feet and swooped down into a bow as you approached him. Despite trying not to smile, you couldn’t help but giggle at his theatrics. “Good morrow to you my fair lady.” He reached out and took your hand in his, kissing it.

With a roll of your eyes, you took your hand from his and dipped into a curtsy. “Good morrow to you, kind sir.” If it was even possible, George’s smile widened at your answer. He stood up straight and took your hand once again to lead you to a blanket he had set up. There was a picnic basket overflowing with snacks and a bottle of what you were sure was not champagne. Upon closer inspection, it was sparkling apple cider.

George blushed a little as he watched you take in the setup. “I thought you might appreciate snacks while you tutor me. It’s no easy job.”

You chuckled and set your books down on the blanket. “George, you’re incredibly easy to tutor. You already know everything.” You opened one of your books and searched through it to find a spell for him to try. You wanted something that wasn’t too difficult but still should challenge him. You settled on a spell you had been working on in your advanced class. “See that big boulder?” George nodded. “Turn it into a pig.”

Seeing how well he did yesterday, you were sure this would be a spell he could easily pick up on. George cleared his throat and nodded, moving closer to the rock. He cast the spell and instead of the rock turning into a pig like you expected, nothing happened. You both frowned as he tried again. And again. And again. George tried to turn the boulder into a pig for ten minutes but he never managed to do it.

“Well, maybe that one was a little harder. Why don’t you try the one we did yesterday?” You stood and grabbed a small rock to set in front of him. “Can you make it a frog?” He should be able to easily do it since he did it perfectly yesterday.

George flashed you a cocky smile. “Of course I can.” With a flick of his wand, the small rock grew frog legs but was still a rock. You both watched as the rock tried to hop around. George tried to hide his smile as you turned to him in shock. This is exactly what he had been planning on. All last night he thought about ways to keep you around. He thought that maybe if he swept you off your feet then you would be impressed and want to spend time with him but he worried it wouldn’t be enough. So, he decided to suck at transfiguration. If he was horrible then you would continue to be his tutor and he could spend more time with you and get to know you more. Then after all of that, you could at least be his friend if not more. Of course he’d have to still do better on his tests and homework so he could stay on the Quidditch team.

Sensing some bullshit, you crossed your arms over your chest. “Interesting. Maybe we should go back to the beginning?” You dug around in your bag and pulled out a matchstick. “This is one of the first spells you learn. Matchstick to needle.” Theoretically, this should be even easier than the buttons and beetles he did yesterday. Turning one inanimate object to another inanimate object is extremely easy; he should be able to do it without issue.

George nodded and took the matchstick from your hand, letting his fingers linger on your palm just a little longer than he needed. He set it on the ground and cast the spell but once again, nothing happened. George turned to look at you, hoping to see a confused expression on your face but he didn’t. You were looking more bored than anything. “Huh, I guess I do really need a tutor.”

You stared at him, wondering if he’s really doing what you think he’s doing. “George, are you pretending to be stupid?” It was the same question you asked him yesterday.

George gave you a sly smile. “What do you mean? I need a tutor.” He answered you, saying the exact same thing he said yesterday. You rolled your eyes and started packing up your things. George rushed over to you and grabbed one of your books. “Please wait.”

“No George. You knew you didn’t need a tutor and yet you insisted on meeting with me again today to what? Lie? Give me my book.”

George looked between you and the book in his hand before he slowly handed it over. “Can I at least explain why I did this?” This was all blowing up in his face. Somehow he thought that maybe you wouldn’t realize what he had been doing but he should have known someone as smart as you would have noticed.

“Fine.”

He was surprised you even gave him the time to explain himself. “I wasn’t trying to use you or waste your time. I just wanted to spend time with you and I thought this would be the best way.” He rocked on his feet as he waited for any response from you.

“Why would you need to create some dumb excuse to spend time with me?” You hated it but your heart was fluttering at the idea that George wanted to spend time with you.

George flushed bright red and rubbed a hand on the back of his neck. “Well, I think you’re really pretty and I wanted to get to know you more.”

Neither of you moved. George kept his eyes on the floor while you watched him. You had never been one to be bold; that was more George’s speciality. However, today was the time you needed to be bold. “I happen to think you’re really pretty too.”

George’s head snapped up and he looked at you with wide eyes. As he got over his shock, he smiled brightly. “Well, then what do you say we turn this tutor session into a date?” He gestured to the picnic blanket behind him.

“I’d really like that. Just promise me one thing?”

“Anything.”

You smiled and grabbed his hands in yours. “Don’t ever pretend to be stupid again.”

Taglist

@100gaysnails @george-weasleys-girl @weasleybuns @s1aaaaayyyyyyyt @asuperconfusedgirl @jsjcue @daisydark @creepybloodykitty2 @themarauderswife7 @mintyme101

[writerthatcannotwrite]

TROP SEASON FINALE SPOILERS!!!!!

Elrond, my baby, my little guy, my poor soul.

DWARF RANT:

King Durin, may you rest in the Halls of Aule with honor.

I've seen a common theme in this series: people who had lost their minds, but found them in the last moment of shocking clarity that was (almost) their last noble act.

Celebrimbor, cutting off his thumb to escape (Which was very "I'm honoring my Uncle Maedhros" core, which I very much appreciate) and saying, "Whose will is the mightier?"

I can go on another rant about that phrase and the implications, but that was last episode.

King Durin III awoke the balrog, literally Durin's Bane.

Prince Durin and Disa's kiss was iconic, fyi.

Prince Durin tried so hard to help his father, but in the end, he couldn't stop him. Well, he alone couldn't stop his father; what truly set King Durin over the edge was the knowledge that his son might die. King Durin saw the balrog, something that he had willingly called forth, and went, "Holy shit, get the boy OUT". And how did King Durin get his boy out of the balrog's fire? He sacrificed himself.

Throughout this entire season, I have seen nothing but poor parenting from King Durin; he never listened to his son's advice; he literally shoved him away, and into a wall (My first thought was, "CHILD ABUSE!!! CHILD ABUSE!!!! GO GET DWARF DFCS!!!"). But here, we see the true affection King Durin had for his son.

The cataclysm that brought King Durin clarity was not anything his son could have done by himself, but the knowledge that his son was helpless. King Durin was not going to let his son suffer something of his own making, so he charged the balrog.

And then died.

HUMAN RANT:

Okay, so Kemen (I finally learned his name, unfortunately) needs to get off of his swampy ass and tumble into a grave. It'd be so simple; Isildur just needs to *grab by lapels* *shift three spaces to the right* *drop in hole*. Simple! Easy solution! Would the Valar be very happy? Probably not, but hey! We'd get rid of Kemen!

And I do appreciate Earien's technically treasonous act for her father; by now, she is a pretty prominent figure in Numenorean politics; the right hand of the king's right hand.

And you know what confused me?

The way Pharazon---I'm not calling him Ar-Pharazon, he doesn't deserve that---gathered up all of the RELIGIOUS LEADERS of the Faithful and said, "Yeah, sorry you're conspiring with Sauron, aka the DEVIL so you and all of the Faithful are to be arrested. Sorry."

One of the main things that always strikes a cord for me is religious freedom; when these wrongs are shown in this show, it makes me SO angry, because people should be able to practice their faith freely, regardless of whatever religion the government favors.

The sacking of Nienna's temple, the prosecution of the Faithful in earlier episodes, and now the legit imprisoning of people who are Faithful.

Recently, I have been reading "The Crucible" in class, and we have been discussing the causes and effects of mass hysteria, one of the contributing factors of the Salem Witch Hunts. I feel like there might be bought of mass hysteria going around Numenor now; the king/queen-ship is a major dispute, the Faithful are being arrested, major political and social leaders of the community have been imprisoned. People can likely accuse others of being Faithful (Even if they aren't) because of petty rivalries. In the Crucible, Mr. Putnam accused George Jacobs, his neighbor who had lots of land, of witchcraft, so that he would be able to purchase his land.

How many people in Numenor would face a similar dilemma?

Would Mr. Smith the Sailor accuse Mrs. Johnson the Tailor of being an Elf-Friend because her tapestries looked a little too much like those of Vaire? But it doesn't matter that Mrs. Johnson's only daughter is of marriageable age and Mr. Smith has had his eye on her. But who would be watching that if Mrs. Johnson was an Elf-Friend?

All of these factors are the most basic ingredient for a good ol' bought of mass hysteria; my English teacher doesn't watch this show, but I'm tempted to tell her the similarities.

then, to Isildur.

I thought Theo and Isildur's hug was very nice.

Theo was like, "Ah, yes, I shall bid my friend farewell after discussing the traumatic deaths of our mothers. I wish him well!"

And Isildur's like, "Why is the kid who hated me yesterday wanting a hug???"

I always got bad vibes from Estrid. I get swearing servitude to Adar in exchange for your life, I get that, but.

I never felt comfortable with her and Isildur's relationship. I get that she wasn't able to decipher her feelings for Hagen, her betrothed, until she met Isildur, but seriously. I also know that Isildur has an "unnamed wife" (SCREW THE NOT NAMING OF FEMALE CHARACTERS IT MAKES ME ANGRY), so I know he's gonna get somebody EVENTUALLY, and before Numenor sinks.

But then, Isildur and Estrid started MAKING OUT in Theo's kitchen. Like, bro. THAT'S NOT YOUR HOUSE!!!! Do that ELSEWHERE!!!!! Better yet, don't even do it!

And then, that slimy bitch Kemen had to stroll up, all, "Yeah, we'll put the watchtower there, knock down a few houses to do it." And then, he tries to be all buddy-buddy with Isildur, who obviously realizes that something is a bit off.

Then, Kemen drops the ball, saying that his father is wanted for treason, Queen Miriel is no longer queen, and "low men" are not allowed in Numenor.

First off: very classist of you, go kill yourself, Kemen.

Second off: Isildur learns that the woman he saved from the fire is no longer queen; is he thinking that his sacrifice, everything that he's endured in Middle Earth, has been for naught?

Third off: Kemen mentioned Earien. Does Isildur know that his sister has gotten a little racist in his absence? How will he react to seeing his sister betray their entire family by literally trying to put them all in prison (Anarion, Elendil, AND Isildur)?

Kinda happy that Estrid wasn't going to Numenor. Don't like the circumstances, but I'm glad that she isn't going.

I also think that Earien is coming to her senses; she might not have wanted Miriel on the throne, but now, Pharazon's tyranny is affecting HER. HER family is being prosecuted. HER father is wanted for "treason". HER people are at risk. Earien is getting a rude awakening to this thing.

I also think that its interesting how that guard left when Earien told him to; it shows how people in power are STILL defying the law in Numenor, all because, "Oh, she knows the king's son."

Of course, Earien did this for a good reason, but it still demonstrates the corruption of Numenor's political system.

Then, Miriel and Elendil. As I was watching this my mom, I was like, "Hey, do you ship it?" and she was like, "Oh, yeah" and I was like, "Good, my assumptions are not unfounded."

So yeah, Anarion, Isildur, and Earien are going to be getting a step-mom, good for them!!

What messed me up was when Miriel was like, "No Elendil, you must go, I will stay." Like Elendil (And us) were under the impression that she would remain with the Faithful; Elendil draped the cloak over her shoulders and she didn't flinch, she listened to his plan, but when the time came to make the decision she stayed. Frankly, I don't understand WHY, but go off girlie, I guess.

ELVES:

Okay, so Galadriel getting the refugees out of Eregion, I really liked; in cannon, Galadriel and many of Eregion's fled Eregion and headed south. Then, Galadriel gave up the Nine to save the refugees (Iconic, Queen Behavior), and we see Adar, leaning against a fallen tree. Is he injured? Is he hiding? Has his hand been conveniently cut off by some guy on an eagle? What happened?

After dismissing the orcs, Adar turns around. At first, I didn't see any difference (I'm not very observant, sometimes, alright?), until I looked a little closer. His face was no longer scared and burned; his hair seemed thicker, cleaner; he looked less gaunt. The ring had healed him.

And then, Galadriel asked for his name, but he evaded the question, like a little BITCH.

"Adar was the name I chose for myself" blah, blah, blah, bah, JUST SAY MAKALAURE YOU IDIOT!!! Sure, there are some details in cannon that don't line up (Maglor wasn't strung up on Thangorodrim, Maedhros was) but here's the thing: not only has trop changed a few things, it made some things more accessible.

In trop, Elrond and Elros were found by Galadriel after the Third Kinslaying, not the sons of Feanor. Celebrimbor was supposed to be tortured for TWO YEARS before his death. Celeborn is still supposed to be present.

I also have a cannon-probable idea for Maglor being Adar; in Maglor's trauma and grief at loosing his last and first brother, could he have not clung to his brother, in all aspects? Maglor may have curated this story of hanging from a cliff because that's what happened to his brother, that idea is what keeps him close. The things about being with the orcs and Sauron, I can't really explain for this idea. That's just about as far as I got.

But Adar WILLINGLY returned the ring to Galadriel, proving that he truly meant to defeat Sauron with elven help. But then, there is an injured Uruk nearby, and Adar goes to help; he might not even be able to heal him, but he will be with that Uruk in his last moments.

And then.

The Uruk, Glug, I think? leapt up and stabbed him. All of the others followed suit. It was a mirror to Sauron's own death in the first episode: betrayed, stabbed, stabbed, stabbed, stabbed, stabbed, stabbed, stabbed, stabbed---

You get the gist.

By the end, Adar is well and truly gone. He raises his hand to touch one of the orcs, his children, and calls them such, but the orc stabs him again, one, final time.

The entire situation is disheartening; sure Adar might have been willing to risk his "children" in his hunt for revenge against Sauron, but he cared about them, well and truly. In exchange, the orcs killed him for his kindness.

In the end, I really do want to know who Adar was before his chaining to a mountain. Did he have a family? People he loved? He must have come from Cuivienen, so he probably did.

I also wonder where he would go after death. Now that his hroa (Physical body) is well and truly... extinguished, where will his fea (Spirit) go? Do orcish fear (Spirit, plural) go to the Halls of Mandos, or somewhere else?

Adar looked vaguely elven; he could walk in sunlight, unlike his children. I feel like he should go to the Halls of Mandos; he did many terrible things, but were they not in the pursuit of good?

Then, Celebrimbor's death (These are not in the order of the scenes, just what I remember).

We see streaks of blood on stone floor, and we know something has happened.

Then, there's Celebrimbor, BEING USED AS TARGET PRACTICE, with arrows in his arms. Sauron stand over him, grim, and he wants to know where the rings are. They bicker and banter, there's some (un)healthy badinage, and Sauron STILL says that Celebrimbor's pain is HIS fault, that Celebrimbor brought this upon himself. Even though Celebrimbor is well and truly destroyed, Sauron STILL wants to have Celebrimbor guilt-ridden and full of self-loathing. It sickens me.

And then, Celebrimbor has something to say. He says, "forsee", and Sauron stops. I doubt Celebrimbor has had many visions of foresight, but the line of Finwe is not without them; did Miriel not have a vision of foresight to name her son Feanaro? Was Galadriel not gifted in seeing versions of the future? So it is possible, especially since Celebrimbor is SPOT ON. It WILL be one ring that brings about Sauron's downfall, and Sauron will fall. Sauron realizes this, and runs him through with a spear. Celebrimbor is lifted onto the pillar (Which is what I think we're going to get as the Celebrimbanner, unfortunately; I would have loved to see his cannonical death) and finally dies.

Then, Galadriel and Sauron's duel. Sauron turns into different people to try and fool Galadriel, but by now, she is used to trickery. He turns into puppy-dog-eyed Halbrand (Annatar was literally just Halbrand in a heat-damaged wig and shaved, Celebrimbor should have seen that IMMEDIATELY). Then, he's Galadriel herself, depicting her darkest, most evil deeds and desires. Then, Celebrimbor, mocking her for her retreat. Franky, I thought he was going to be Finrod as well, but alas, it was not so.

And then, he stabbed her with the crown (rude) and Galadriel, salty to the last, PRETENDED to give Sauron the ring. Very slowly, just to watch the pride and greed flash in his eyes, and then, "If I can't have it, then neither can you." Not what she said, but what she MEANT.

And girlie does and Elwing. Too many people in season two have dove off of cliffs; Elrond failed to beat the mama's boy allegations by jumping off a cliff with an object of power (In this case, three). And I was wondering if these guys actually thought that Ulmo was gonna come in clutch and turn them into birds. I mean, he did it for Elwing, so why not her son? Why not some other random person jumping off of a cliff?

In the end, Gil-Galad approaches (I'll get to that part in the beginning with Gilly and Elrond, hold on) and knows that Galadriel cannot be healed. She has the Second Age equivalent of a Morgul wound. It festers with dark magic and cannot be healed.

But who do they have?

THE healer!

The top dog of his graduation class from Lindon's School of Magical and Physical Healing!! Elrond Peredhel Earendilion whatever other name you give him! He's THE healer! Just standing there!

So of course, Mr. Healer is all dramatic, like, "No, we can heal her" through the power of friendship of course, and perhaps these magical rings.

I do think it's interesting how the rings will heal scarring and a Morgul wound; I think they only heal physical wounds, not those done to the spirit (Fea).

And then, we appear in a grassy, bright area, with Gil-Galad watching over Galadriel. He says that it is safe, a sanctuary made by the rings. This is, of course, the beginnings of Imladris, Rivendell, the Last Homely House. In cannon, Elrond and refugees of Eregion fled north, and founded Rivendell.

The river down the center HAS to be the Anduin, I guarantee it.

When the offer of the sword or shield pops up, I though that Galadriel would choose the shield; after all, this series is basically about how Galadriel went from a brutish, hyper-angry, traumatized elleth to a proud, wise, kind Lady of Lothlorien. I thought she would choose the shield, protect what her people had lost so much of, but she remains silent. Gil-Galad chooses the sword.

That scene of the elves raising their fists in defiance felt odd to me; even the children were seen raising their hands. Elves reach their majority at approx. 100 years, so what are these children, who have never seen battle and bloodshed except for that day, doing, wanting to wage war? It reminds me of Feanor and the unrest of the Noldor; a people that knew no bloodshed, and in their innocence, went to their deaths. It worries me.

Alright, one of my favorite parts: Elrond and the Scrolls.

Elrond, Gil-Galad, and Arondir are brough to a city square and we see orcs piling scrolls to be burned. Elrond, who is obviously a scholar, I mean look at him, is outraged. Not only are these the last ties he has to his cousin Celebrimbor, they also hold invaluable scientific information; it's like destroying the elven version of the Library of Alexandria.

Then, my baby boy Gil-Galad is at sword-point (Very scary, but I know what his doom is so I wasn't THAT scared), and just barely saved. Ngl, I had thought Arondir had died in Episode 7, so it was good to see him still kicking!

My favorite parts were Celebrimbor and Annatar's scenes and Elrond's dismay at the scrolls. I would also like to say that I think Gil-Galad slayed in every scene he was in.

Well, then. I must go google when Season Three is expected to show up.

[malarkgirlypop]

MEDIC! Part 35 (Donald Malarkey x Fem!OC)

OK, so it's long and there may be a treat at the end 😉

WARNING: 18+, you've been warned!

Based on the HBO show and the actors who portray the characters, not hate to anyone involved.

Tag list: @imusicaddict, @b00ks1ut , @mstiemountainhop, @awaterfalls anyone else please let me know.

George leaned in placing a gentle kiss on my cheek before handing me over to Don. We pressed ourselves together as I wrapped my arms around his neck. I didn’t say anything as we rocked. I rested my head on his chest listening to his steady heartbeat. 

I was so tired fighting with him, I missed being in his arms.

“Are you still mad at me?” He asked gently, his voice rumbling in his chest I laid my head on. 

“Yes.” I said curtly. “But I’m more sad than angry.” 

“I’m sorry for my cruel words and accusations. I’m sorry for hurting you.” He whispered

“It doesn’t matter anyway you don’t believe me.”  

“That’s not true, I do believe you.” 

I pulled back to look into his eyes. “What? But you said you wanted space?” 

“I did. You basically blew my mind, more than once! I needed some space, to breathe, to think, to wrap my head around what you had shown me. I understand I was cruel and I didn’t handle the situation very well. I stormed off and left you to think the worst, and then I ignored you for a couple of days. And for that I’m sorry, that was never my intention, but you do have to understand that at that moment I wasn’t thinking very clearly.” 

I nodded my head as I listened to him. 

“I still can’t believe you’re from 2023.” Don shook his head in amazement. 

“Hey, shhh. Not so loud!” I pulled him closer looking around to make sure no one had heard him. 

“You’re the only person who gets to know this secret about me. Also I’m not telling you anything about the future ‘cause I’m not going to spoil it, but also I can’t remember most of what happens.”   

Don laughed and smiled down at me. I felt my heart swell, I had been so sad without him that my whole body ached. But with just one smile I felt as if I could fly. The feeling didn’t last long when reality crashed back down, I would still have to leave. 

Malarkey seemed to be able to read my inner thoughts as his face grew more serious again. 

“I spoke to Speirs.” 

I cautiously raised my glance towards him.

“You’re not planning on coming home.” He sounded disappointed and hurt, I could see it all swirling behind his brown eyes. 

“I can’t.” I bit my lip as he sighed. Don was the only person I could now truly explain myself to. 

“If the shimmer appears again, I think I have to go.” I explained to him, but he shook his head. 

“Who told you that?” 

“No one told me that, but I don’t think I would be allowed to stay.” 

“And why is that?” Don questioned. 

“Well, what if I stay and the things I do change the course of the future and the world falls apart because of it. This isn’t my timeline to change. There is a theory called the butterfly effect. It's basically one small change in the atmosphere that can cause chaos elsewhere. If I stay and alter the present it may detrimentally affect the future.” I rambled on as his brows knitted together. 

“But you’ve been here for months, wouldn’t that have affected the future?” He asked. 

I sighed, shaking my head, “That’s not just the only reason I can’t stay. Don, I wouldn’t be able to get back into America. I’m not legally a citizen. I wasn’t born there, I have no identification, I don’t even have a family who can vouch for me.” 

I watched him bite his cheek as he thought. “Surely there would be another way?” 

“Can we discuss this another time? I came out to clear my head, not worry more about things.” I pleaded. I was fighting panic attacks most of the time when I started thinking about my choice. 

My biggest fear when I was younger was death, an odd fear for a child to have. But when your mother is diagnosed with an incurable cancer and is told she only has so long to live, the fear of death is explainable. 

I remember laying in bed thinking of dying, the thoughts were so overwhelming, all the unknown. Suddenly I would be here alive and then I wouldn’t, buried under ground. Would I get to live again, or was that it? Would I be content with my life, even thinking of it now sent my heart racing and stomach twisting. 

I never thought I would have a worse fear. 

Turns out when you lose everyone you loved, death seems more enticing. 

Now I’m back in a space where I am loved and love others, and the fear of death creeps back in. 

However my death has a new face, a new perspective. 

Do I stay and potentially cause so much chaos the world falls around me, killing everyone I love. Or do I leave those who I cherish most, in a world I can never return back to, being unsure if I saved their lives, and never getting the answers I want. 

The choice had me spiralling, and now I had another factor. Don knew my choice, and he knows what he wants me to choose. I know he will choose selfishly, I don’t blame him. But it’s my choice in the end, and I can’t be responsible for more death. 

“Hey, I’ll drop it. Don’t look so worried.” Don’s fingers found my chin lifting it slightly to meet his eye line as we swayed. His hand dropped down to my racing heart. 

“It’s ok.” Malarkey cooed softly, pulling me in. I dragged in deep breaths trying to calm myself before I slipped into a panic attack. 

“Can we talk about anything else, please?” I whispered shakily. 

Don pulled back as he nodded his head. “You’re beautiful. I didn’t get to tell you.” 

The comment quickly pulled my focus as a blush spread across my cheeks. 

“When I saw you under the starlight, I just about fainted.” He smiled brightly down at me. 

“Ok big guy, I said talk about something else not lie to me.” I chuckled, patting his chest. 

“Lie to you. Emily, my god!” 

“What?” I exclaimed as he looked at me incredulously. 

“You seduced me in the middle of war when we barely showered and wore the same clothes for days on end. Even then I thought you were so fucking sexy. And then you come out in this dress all done up. I lost my goddamn mind when I saw you. All I can stare at is your plump red lips and all I can think about is how badly I want to rip this dress off of you.” Don whispered in my ear, his lips trailing the sensitive skin under my jaw. 

My eyes widened as thoughts flooded my head, I couldn’t stop thinking about Don ripping the dress from my body and then devouring me. 

I swallowed trying to focus on him, but the smirk he held as he glanced down at me sent me reeling. I fanned my hot face, trying to calm down my racing mind. 

“Got you all hot and bothered did I?” Don chuckled into my ear. 

I opened my mouth ready to retort when Lieb cut in. 

“You two, let’s go, the bar’s closing!” He yelled. We looked around the room, finding that everyone else had cleared out and the barman had started aggressively sweeping towards us, signalling for Don and I to leave. 

I hadn’t even said goodbye to any of the ladies I had come with. I hoped they got home safe. Don took my hand and led me out of the bar. The rest of Easy stood outside waiting for us, they smoked and talked amongst themselves. Seeing that we had finally come out, they started back towards the camp. 

Don and I walked behind the group, our hands intertwined. 

“I love all of you.” Don whispered in my ear. I looked up at him shocked. “I know you Em, you can’t hide anything from me.” 

“You knew I would be upset about that?” I asked. “I’m surprised you even remembered.” 

“Emily, I remember every conversation I have with you. You are permanently seared into my brain.” He lifted our hands kissing the back of mine. 

It was weird to think he thought about me as much as I did him. I hadn’t been loved like this in so long. I would miss it. I shook the thought from my head before it consumed my mind. I wanted to focus on the now, I would cross that bridge when I came to it. 

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

We finally arrived back at the base. Don and I bid goodnight to the men as they all headed back to bed. But Don stayed at my side. 

“Are you not going to bed?” I asked as I nudged him with my elbow. 

“Not unless you’re coming with me.” 

I laughed loudly, trying to muffle the sound with my palm, I didn’t need to wake the whole base. 

“What has got into you?” I playfully hit him as he grinned.   

“You.” Don’s lips fell onto my cheek, kissing me gently. 

“Don.” I whispered harshly, trying to look around to make sure we weren’t spotted. 

“Yours or mine?”

“What?” 

“Are we going to my bed or yours?” He elaborated. 

I gawked at the man, at a loss for words. He didn’t give me a chance to choose, scooping me up into his arms, he headed towards my bed.  

My room was a single bed, with no roommates. The army was still trying to enforce the no fraternising policy, and had separated me from the men. Little did they know I spent months on end sleeping in holes with the lot of them.  

Don refused to put me down to unlock the door, as I awkwardly reached out from his arms trying to get the key into the hole, his inability to keep still was making it harder than it needed to be.  

“Open the door.” Don laughed as I missed the lock for the millionth time. 

“Put me down and this would be a lot faster.” I said in a sarcastic sing-songy tone. 

“Never!” He declared triumphantly as he nuzzled his face into my neck. I yelped, trying to fend him off as well as open the door. 

Finally after wrangling Don, I got the door unlocked. I was going to turn around to give Don a shit eat grin but the tall redhead had other plans. Like a golden retriever on steroids, he bolted into the room and threw me onto the bed. I flew through the air at a great speed, landing in a heap on the soft comforter. 

I lifted my head to look at the man in disbelief, only to find his whole body flying towards me, arms outstretched like a tiger pouncing on its prey.  

“Don!” I yelled in what felt like slow motion as he descended upon me. His lips smashed into my cheeks as he peppered my face and neck with kisses. 

“What is going on?” I tried to pull him back to ask him but he wiggled free as he nipped and sucked at my bare skin. 

“You, Emily, have been taunting me all night in that dress.” He panted breathlessly as he finally ceased his assault. Don’s eyes met mine and the need that exuded from his pupils had my heart pumping. 

“I thought I looked nice, but not that nice.” I uttered in shock. 

“You’re kidding?” Don shook his head in disbelief. 

“You look like a goddess. As soon as I saw you I knew I was done for.” The comments from Don made my cheeks hot. Never in my life had I ever felt desirable, and here he was almost drooling over me. 

“I think you need your eyes checked or something.” I joked half heartedly, Don gaze was pinning, so much so it caused goosebumps to raise on my skin.

Malarkey’s eyes darkened. "I think your eyes need to be checked, sweetheart. You're the most beautiful woman I've ever seen, and if you think I'm going to let you talk like that, you're wrong."

My mouth fell open at his bold statement, a nervous chuckle falling from my lips, but his comment vibrated straight through my core. 

“I don’t think you understand the absolute chokehold you have on me.” Don’s eyes bored into my soul. 

Teeth found my lower lip biting gently, but it wasn’t mine. Don had captured my face in his hands pulling me forward to take my lower lip into his mouth. I couldn’t stop the moan that fell from my lips as my hands dragged down his back. In moments his mouth was on mine, kissing me with such hunger it was as if he was starved. 

His hands slid from my jaw up into my hair, tangling at the base of my neck as he pulled gently, causing me to gasp. Don had me pinned to the bed, his weight bearing down on me, we were so close I could feel the heat growing between us. I couldn’t help myself as I bucked my hips up into him, he groaned into my mouth as our tongues explored each other. 

My hands fell to his top, ripping open the buttons of his shirt, I heard them clatter to the floor but paid no mind as I helped Don remove his clothes. 

Don was much more gentle with my dress. He stood from the bed pulling me with him. Malarkey bent down gathering the hem as he slid it up my legs slowly, pressing his hands into my inner thighs as he did so. 

I lifted my hands over my head as he slowly stood, pulling the dress with him. Don kissed me gently on the lips before he removed the dress altogether. For some reason I felt more exposed and vulnerable than the last time we were together. I covered my arms over my stomach, aware of how on show I really was. 

Malarkey’s brows furrowed as he watched me. He stepped closer pulling me into him. Don captured my wrists bringing them back down to my sides.

His fingers traced down my arms, swirling across my stomach as he circled me like a shark. His fingers trailed my skin as he walked around me. I physically shivered as Don’s hot breath fanned my bare shoulders. Taking my hand he led me over to the full length mirror in the corner of the room. I stood in the reflection still wearing my undergarments, Don stood behind me only wearing his pants. 

Malarkey pressed my back into his chest as he watched me in the mirror. His lips found my ear as he pressed soft kisses to my sensitive skin. 

“Do you see how fucking stunning you are?” Don asked as his hands travelled down my skin.

I shook my head, I only saw plain old me, nothing special, nothing remarkable. I never found myself to be beautiful or attractive, I was just me. 

“Should I spell it out for you?” Don whispered as he continued to stare at me in the mirror. 

“I love your curls, how they frame your big eyes and gorgeous face, they cascade down your pretty neck to your shoulders.” He presses kisses to each part of my body. 

“Your chest, that drives me wild.” His fingers dipped inside my bra playing with my hard nipples. 

I shivered as his fingers traced down the middle of my abdomen, I tilted my head back into the crook of his shoulder sighing in pleasure.

“Focus.” He muttered, bringing my head forward again to look in the mirror.

“Those curves.” I giggled as he lightly glided over my hips tickling me as he went. 

“Every part of you is perfect, Emily. I will never stop telling you how much you mean to me.” 

Even in the heat of it all his words had me choking up. Tears welled in my eyes. I took a shaky breath trying to regulate my feelings. No one had ever loved me, all of me, and voiced it so openly. I had never been loved so fiercely. 

“I love you so much, Don. I love you so much it hurts.” I let the warm tears slip down my cheeks as I turned and buried my face into his chest.   

Don’s laugh vibrated through me. I raised my head, watching his eyes crinkle at the sides as he tipped his head back laughing even harder. 

“What’s so funny?” I asked confused. 

“I’m trying to make love to you, and instead I’ve made you cry.” I couldn’t help but join in the hysterics. I grinned up at the man as he finally found his composure looking back down at me. 

“I love you so much it hurts too.” My face cracked, I didn’t think I could smile any bigger. I lunged at Don, standing on my tiptoes to kiss him. I cupped his face in my hands as he bent down to deepen the kiss. 

“So what are you waiting for? Make love to me already, big man.” Even though I had asked for it I couldn’t help the yelp that left my lips as he picked me up and carried me back over to the bed. 

He laid me gently on the bed, his fingers dragged the rest of the clothes off my body. My hands found the belt of his pants, hastily undoing the fastenings and tugging them down until we were both exposed fully. 

We kissed each other hungrily, needing to be closer to each other than ever before, like we wanted to crawl into each other’s skin. His fingers traced my every curve, memorising me with his fingertips. I did the same, my lips trailed down his body, licking and sucking as I went. I watched in satisfaction as his head fell back against the bed as sighs and moans left his lips. 

I had never felt so wet in my life, my need dripping down my legs. Through hazy eyes Don reached down between my legs swirling over my core, I muffled my screams into his neck. 

Don flipped us over so I was on my back and he loomed over me. His face hovered over mine as he stared lustfully down at me. 

I wriggled in anticipation, I could feel him resting on my stomach, I needed him inside me. 

“What are you waiting for?” I breathed softly. 

“You.” Don murmured, his voice low and filled with need. 

“I’m all yours Don, no need to wait.” 

“All mine?” Don couldn’t stop the smirk that spread across his lips. 

“And I’m all yours. No one can ever take you from me, they will have to pry you from my cold dead hands.” Don’s lips brushed mine as he spoke, sending shivers up my spine. 

I smiled up at the beautiful man that lingered above me. Who would’ve thought that putting my hand somewhere it wasn’t supposed to be, I would end up with the most breathtaking love I had ever experienced. 

Don lips pulled me from my thoughts as he crashed down into mine. His hips ground against mine, causing gasps and squeals to leave my throat. 

Malarkey raised up onto his forearms, one hand snaked down to between us. I watched him move himself to my entrance, his eyes flicking up to confirm with me I was ready. I bit my lip nodding my head. My hands found his hips as he slowly slid forward into me. 

I sucked in a breath as he slowly pushed into me, I watched his eyes squeeze shut as she held his breath. We stilled together, before he rocked back. The action caused pleasure to ripple through my body. I gripped his shoulders, pulling him down onto me. 

“God, you feel so good.” Don breathed out, his voice thick with need. 

I couldn’t form a sentence as my head swirled with lust. The only noises that left my mouth were moans and whimpers of pleasure. My fingers dug into the soft flesh of his back as he moved slowly in and out of me, his pace beginning to fasten as ragged breaths fell from his lips.  

Don gripped my hips, angling himself so that he was thrusting deeper inside of me. 

“Don.” I gasped, my head falling against the bed as my eyes rolled back in my head. 

“Don’t stop, please.” I begged, I had never heard my voice so desperate. 

Malarkey shifted from his position drawing out of me quickly, I whined at the loss of his cock. My head shot up from its place on the bed, I gawked at the man. But my shocked glare didn’t last long as he stood at the end of the bed, bending forward he gripped my hips and tugged me down to him. 

With my hips hanging off the end bed, Don’s hands clutched around my ass lifting me to meet him. I arched my back as he slammed back into me with no warning. A strangled scream left my lips as pleasure coursed through my veins. 

Now only my shoulder blades made contact with the comforter, the rest of my body was suspended in the air. Don moved in and out of me faster, the sounds of our heavy breathing and bodies slapping together filled the small room. 

My hands found my breasts, squeezing them as Don slammed in and out of me, cursing silently under his breath as he watched me. 

“You’re so fucking stunning, Em.” Don growled lowly. 

In one smooth motion Don flipped me onto my front. My feet were placed on the floor as he gripped my hips. The angle we were in meant that he plunged in deeper than before, hitting the spot that made my eyes roll back in my head and toes curl. Don’s fingers tangled in my curls pulling me so that he could kiss me. His free hand snaked around my waist pulling me closer. 

With every thrust I came nearer to my edge. Don’s lips attacked my neck, nipping and sucking as he went. I gripped onto his arm that held me tightly to him, my nails digging into his flesh, I felt as if I were about to float away if I wasn’t anchored down. 

I whined as Don left me, clutching to his arm to keep me on my feet. 

“I want to see you finish.” Malarkey whispered in my ear, his hands found their way under my thighs as he picked me up. I wrapped my legs around him, as he walked us back to the bed. 

Don lay me back down as he hovered above me, his lips pressing to mine as he slid back inside me. I sighed in satisfaction as he filled me up again.

“I love you.” I whispered breathlessly when his lips left mine. 

“I’m glad we found each other.” Don replied back, finally sending me to my finish. I shuddered underneath him as he did the same. With our breaths mingling and bodies intertwined, we completed each other. 

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

Chapter 36

[ararebreedstory]

This would be an easy fix.

First of all, Aegon's two kids were barely in, what, two scenes in season 1? In the background for 5 seconds? Would it have broken the budget to have one more kid to be barely shown?

But anyway let's say it's just a boy and a girl, fine. We see Blood and Cheese hired and some instructions given. They ask about the Queens orders, and Daemon smiles and says "She wants a Son for a Son." Then the scene cuts.

And a point of conflict could be Rhaeneyra wanted Aemond taken out, and Daemon goes down there, confident he can beat Aemond in the field later, and wanting that pleasure for himself.

So he decides on a better idea. We don't see the full conversation, but he essentially says off screen since the greens [ended] his Queen's son, then their King should lose a son in return, not a brother.

We can skip them traveling the whole way like the wet bandits from home alone. So no dog kicking, which was worse than what we actually got on screen at the end. We focus more on Helaena and the kids or whatever else. Maybe on Alicent having hot pig sex.

When Blood and Cheese burst in and each grab a kid, and Blood is confused as to which is the boy.

And maybe cheese laughs and tells him to slip his hand down there and feel for a cock, but Blood is disgusted by the idea so he just insults cheese.

Cheese then says it doesn't matter, because the mother knows, so they'll make her pick. Blood argues that it has to be a son. Cheese replies that they are in a hurry, and it doesn't matter anyway, one of the King kids [ended] in the middle of the red keep sends the message all the same.

Besides they can't tell them apart, but the mother can. So he asks one last time, which one it will be. If she doesn't pick soon, they'll just [Unalive] both kids.

But they won't [end] her, she'll have to live with the guilt of knowing she could have saved one child, but didn't. She begs for them to [end] her instead. So Cheese says to just [end] both kids, and they are about to do it when she screams and points at the child Cheese is holding.

Later we find out that was her daughter, and she (because she's a green) knew Aegon wouldn't value his daughters life as much as his sons. So she chose to save his heir.

"You hear that little one" Cheese whispers. "Your Momma wants you dead."

The camera then slowly turns around as we see Cheese tossing the kid he had, safely and unharmed onto the bed, and nodding to Blood.

The camera zooms in on Helena's face, as we hear the woosh of a blade and the thump of something hitting the floor, she then screams and claws at her face.

When the camera pans around she's desperately crawling across the room, as Blood is stuffing something into his bag as they rush out of the door.

Helaena is blocking the tiny, now headless body from view, but maybe we can see two little feet sticking out just past her as we see her cradling her son's body from behind. Maybe as a puddle of blood spreads on the floor around her.

And that's it. It's the easiest scene in the world to get right and adapt to the screen, even with changes, because George did 99% of the heavy lifting.

But no, apparently Ryan Condal is too stupid to figure out something so basic. He thinks offering a necklace instead of her own life is more emotional. Then having her act like Robot-Bran and just casually walking away was deep and moving.

Wow, Blood and Cheese has so much more meaning if you take out everything interesting about it. He's beyond being a dumbass. I'd say he's up there with Dan and Dave levels of stupidity.

[high-mackrels-musings]

On the Jedi and Death

Another adaptation of a Reddit piece I submitted not too long ago found here.

When I wrote of the relationship between the transcendentalists and the force, I had in mind of the relationship between death and the force. And how indeed the Jedi view on death might be contrasted with that of the Sith. being perhaps one of the greatest signs of that selfishness that George a Lucas was attempting to warn us of.

Much of what I have I say has oft been repeated before, and I doubt much revelation will come from this short essay. Certainly I think there has come a great deal of misconceptions come about when some people speak of the Jedi and their views on attachment, as relates to them. 

There are still, even with the added discourse towards the prequel era Jedi and their views on attachment, whom believe that the Jedi have little emotions towards others. A stark contrast when one compares the words of Mace Windu, Adi Gallia, Plo Koon to Aayla Secura with regards to the of Master Tyvooka as found in Star Wars: Republic 37

This may all at a glance seem to go against what Grandmaster Yoda said in perhaps the most famous quote in all of Star Wars with regards to as found in Revenge of the Sith,

"Death is a natural part of life, Rejoice for those around us who transform into the Force. Mourn them, do not. Miss them, do not. Attachment leads to jealousy, the shadow of greed, that is.

Indeed many a great deal of misconceptions with regards to the Jedi, and their alleged callousness towards others occur with this quote. First one must note that Yoda never shown any signs of thinking mourning another is wrong. Indeed in the novel, Yoda: Dark Rendezvous Yoda not only allowed Whie and Scout to mourn their masters, he mourned alongside them. 

“Yoda told stories, and ate, and cried, and laughed: and the Padawans saw that life itself was a lightsaber in his hands; even in the face of treachery and death and hopes gone cold, he burned like a candle in the darkness. Like a star shining in the black eternity of space.”

Yet even if one we’re to not know this, I would urge one to consider the context of the quote, wherein Anakin precedes this quote by saying to Yoda that he will not let his visions come true. Hence Yoda calling attachment the shadow of greed. One might interpret this instead as Yoda reaffirming to Anakin that the Jedi accept, that is not something to fear. One might interpret his words to be about Anakin already mourning and dreading the loss of this person close to him. He is trying to hold onto someone, and as we know nothing is forever. David talks Star Wars goes rather in depth with that point of view here.

The sense of loss of something has always haunted Anakin as seen in the Revenge of the Sith Novel where a flashback takes us back to Anakin and Obi-Wan observing a dying star. 

"It is the way of the universe, which is another manner of saying that it is the will of the Force," Obi-Wan had told him. "Everything dies. In time, even stars burn out. This is why Jedi form no attachments: all things pass. To hold on to something- or someone-beyond its time is to set your selfish desires against the Force. That is a path of misery, Anakin; the Jedi do not walk it."

That is the kind of fear that lives inside Anakin Skywalker: the dragon of that dead star. It is an ancient, cold dead voice within his heart that whispers all things die...

Once more it is shown that to the Jedi  death is natural and not something to shy away from, as Obi-Wan says it is the path of misery. Anakin’s fear of is evident and it leaves him vulnerable to his downfall, his fear of and inability to love without attachment means Sidious is able to manipulate him. 

Death should be expected and felt, as explained by Quinlan Vos to Aayla:

And fear of death is how we can contrast the Jedi view of against that of the Sith. No matter how powerful any Sith might have been, there is always this lingering fear of death in all of them. From the most powerful of Sith Lords such as Valkorion, Plagueis, and Sidious each of them sought an escape from death, whether it be through the use of clones, proxies, or a manipulation of midichlorians. 

Indeed Star Wars is not exempt from many Sith who escaped would be, look no further than Darth Maul who stated to escape death he tapped into his hatred, or Darth Sion, a being so determined to avoid that his very body was decomposing. Maul’s own survival and quest for revenge ultimately left him mad. We can see that neither of these existences are what one might call peaceful. 

Indeed the Sith quest for ultimate life has on brief occasions resulted in some Sith managing to linger on after, some Sith even staying as ghosts, yet these existences are anything but peaceful. 

The irony of course is that no matter how much Sith crave eternal life, only the Jedi truly can achieve this goal as seen in a conversation between Qui-Gon and Yoda:

"The ultimate goal of the Sith, yet they can never achieve it; it comes only through the release of self, not the exaltation of self. It comes through compassion, not greed. Love is the answer to the darkness.”

Love being key to a Jedi, as George Lucas has never once stated Jedi cannot love as seen in an excerpt here about love.

“They can still love people. But they can’t possess them. They can’t own them. They can’t demand that they do things. They have to be able to accept […] their mortality, that they are going to die. And not worry about it. That the loved ones they have, everything they love is going to die and they can’t do anything about it. I mean they can protect them as you would ordinarily protect, you know, ‘Get out of the way of that car.’ Somebody charges you with a gun, you knock the gun out, but there is an inevitability to life which is and you have to accept that.”

Returning to Anakin it’s here we see a difference on how he cannot live knowing that others around him will die. That’s how a Jedi lives they see as not something to fear, but as a part of life that will eventually claim them all, hence Yoda’s words in Return of the Jedi:

“Strong am I with the Force, but not that strong. Twilight is upon me, and soon, night must fall. That is the way of things. The way of the Force”

Once more I don’t expect this post to contain much revelatory information, but I do think it’s important to have these sort of quotes and examples here for people to be able to read them and have at their disposal. The Jedi view of mortality is quite a peaceful one, and in my personal life I’ve always found it to be a sort of comfort, knowing it will come and willing to accept it is not always something we see in media. And in the end that seems to be consistent with Lucas’ desire for us to see the Jedi as unselfish.

[alicentflorent]

The whole Larys/Alicent bothers me not just because it’s another example of the writers fetishising female abuse and unnecessary ableism but simply from a writing perspective it doesn’t make any sense!

Naerys and Rhaella Targaryen were one of the most victimised women in House Targaryen but even then I would shout “jumping the shark” if George implied some lowly Lord can make them preform unwanted sexual acts.

So if it’s unrealistic for these two how tf does it make sense for Alicent??? She’s the most powerful woman in Westeros, one word from her Criston would gut Larys, Aemond would feed him to Vhagar, Aegon would have him executed, hell even Viserys would do something!

She’s so above him in the pecking order it’s insane, but the writers don’t respect her so this is what she’s been reduced to.

I agree it’s absolutely nonsensical and there’s no way he’d get away with sexually abusing the queen of the seven kingdoms. No matter how much blackmail meterial some random lord would have on a royal, they’d be losing their tongue or their head at the mere suggestion of sexual favours in exchange for information or their silence. Vaemond lost his head, with no arrest or trial in front of a crowd for calling Rhaenyra a whole and no one did anything so Larys has nothing over Alicent.

Even if I was willing to suspend my belief enough to think Alicent wouldn’t pull rank and threaten him with execution for kinslaying at the mere suggestion of sexual favour - let’s say Alicent is so used to being abused and used that she feels powerless to stop it - it’s still a huge stretch to believe any targaryen Queen would be abused by a lowly lord

I also find it highly unlikely that criston wouldn’t figure it out something was wrong given that he’s her personal guard and would likely be outside. He spends enough time with her to notice if she was in distress or if she would arrange for him not to be around with larys there he’d get suspicious and given that he killed a man over a disrespectful comment towards Ali, and got away with it, he would brutally murder Larys over assaulting her and face no consequences. Aemond is also very perceptive when it comes to Alicent and her emotions so he might get suspicious of Larys, who would then become a dragon snack before Aemond even gets the full story. Aegon despite being shown as lazy and uninterested in the goings on would also jump at the chance of feeding larys to sunfyre. I’d argue that Otto, the hand who is essentially acting in place of the king wouldn’t allow his daughter, the queen, to be subjected to sexual exploitation by a lowly lord and would likely have larys report to him with any information with the constant threat of execution hanging over him. Even if they want to strip Alicent of her power and autonomy, the idea that the powerful men (bc they love saying she lives in service of men) in her family, her loyal murderous guard and even her sickly king husband would allow this to happen for 6+ years and just wouldn’t notice I’d ridiculous.

I’m sure they’ve got some weird thing about using sexual abuse to punish Alicent for “choosing the side of men” and also keeping her in a victim role, instead of a leadership role. even when she is supposed to be the most powerful player in the room. The fact that they allegedly wrote a scene where blood rapes Alicent during the murder of her grandson, in front of Helaena and the children, a scene disgusting enough that Olivia outright refused and caused her, Matt and Emma to call a meeting last year to get the scene removed from the script just solidifies for me that they’re doing exactly what d&d did by using rape and SA as shock value and torture porn. At least d&d never tried hiding behind a “feminist perspective”

[coco-loco-nut]

Peter - 2 endings

I get it, I also don’t always like ambiguous endings

main story

————————

George spent the week spending every free moment with you. The first day was a little awkward, you both didn’t know how to approach it, but after getting coffee, you didn’t feel so awkward.

You learned about what he had been doing the past six or seven years, and you told him what you have been up to, how uni went, how you got your first job. George hung onto everything you said.

A few days later you brought up Carmen, you couldn’t make a decision without knowing the full story with her. George told you everything. He told you that he felt like he was trying to fill a missing piece of his heart and she was the closest fit, but it wasn’t the right one.

By the end of the week, you were faced with two realities, but you’ve been thinking about it all week and only one actually feels right.

Ending One

“Y/n, if you need more time, I’m willing to wait,” George takes your hand, sitting beside you on your couch. His scent and his warmth and old comfort.

“It’s okay, I’ve made up my mind,” you turn a little to face him, taking a deep breath.

“I won’t lie and say what you did didn’t hurt me,” you start, looking down at his hands that gently hold yours. “This past week has shown me that you are willing to try, and I really appreciate that. If we are to go forward, the same level of effort has to be there,” you say, pausing so he can speak.

“It will, it always will. I don’t want to mess up again,” his blue eyes showing no hint of a lie.

“Okay, but we are keeping this quiet. You just broke up with a wonderful girl, and we still don’t know how this relationship is going to unfold,” you say and George practically tackles you as he hugs you.

“Thank you, thank you, thank you,” George doesn’t hold himself back when he kisses you.

It takes a few months for things to actually feel normal again, for you to accompany him to races, for you to reintroduce yourselves to each other’s families. But it also feels like coming home, like you were always meant to be together.

“Do you think the closet still goes to Narnia?” George asks one day as he holds you in bed, looking at the closet you took from home.

“I think so, Georgie,”

Ending Two

“Hi George,” you smile tightly as you sit down across from him at the coffee shop. Still George, not Georgie.

“Good morning, Y/n/n, I ordered your favorite already,” George smiles back, hoping your weird mood was just due to a bad morning.

You are naturally non-confrontational, so it takes the whole breakfast for you to work up the courage.

“George, I can’t do it. You really hurt me back then, and as much as it hurts now, I can’t take that risk again. I’m sorry,” you look down, not able to look at his reaction.

“Hey, hey, Y/n, look at me,” he says gently, his hand resting on top of yours. “I’m not upset, we tried. I understand,” George reassures you.

“I would really like to be friends still. I missed my best friend more than my boyfriend,” you offer, knowing you will still have to protect your heart. You finally got your romantic closure, that’s what mattered.

“I’d really like that,” George smiles, happy to have you back as his friend, even if that wasn’t the goal.

The process is slow to get back to normal. The both of you see other people while working on your friendship. You attend a race or two and get to know the boys who stole him away from you, and you fit right in. It’s not easy, but you both get to a place where you can just be friends and appreciate it for what it is.

[pixydustworld]

At Ginny Weasley's 25th birthday party, Hermione found out 2 things:

1. Ron was dating Theo, which was an uneventful reveal ("No gasps?" Theo complained, "I almost got the mark! I'm dangerous!").

2. Pansy had invited Draco Malfoy.

And he had shown up.

“Thank you so much for coming.” Ginny sighed, sounding like she was about to cry, an empty glass clutched in her tiny fingers, “I love you.”

Pansy nodded enthusiastically, arms wrapped around Ginny’s middle, lipstick smeared beyond repair. “We waited to cut the cake for you!”

Behind the two of them, the cake sat pristine — untouched, 25 lit candles balancing precariously around the edge. A definite fire hazard, Hermione decided.

“Sorry I’m late,” Hermione said, digging Ginny’s present out of her bag (new wand holster!) “Collins kept me in his office after a meeting.”

“Did he try to kiss you again?” Ginny said loudly, “Do you want Pansy and I to ruin his life?”

“We can fuck his dad.” Pansy agreed. “Become his stepmother. Ground him.”

“He’s 45.” Hermione said flatly, “And I’m fairly confident his father is dead.”

“Well,” Ginny pouted, attention quickly drifting to her fiancée, trailing tiny little kitten licks up Pansy’s neck, “If you don’t let us do something, someone else will do much worse.”

“I don’t need to be taken care of.” Hermione argued, ignoring that last bit, “I can actually be quite scary.”

Pansy smiled, but it seemed a bit forced. “You’re very small.”

“Like a chihuahua.” Theo said, snuggled up to Ron’s side, voice slightly muffled.

“But a feral one.” Ron said helpfully, like that made everything better. “One that bites ankles.”

“Let’s cut the cake, shall we?” Hermione said. Out of the corner of her eye she could see several candles oozing off the top, a definite flaw in the structural integrity of the cake. “You all have waited long enough!”

The evening went on, in glorious delight. Hermione was almost able to ignore the way Malfoy was watching her, until he cornered her in the kitchen.

Alone, with only a stack of dirty dishes to witness their conversation.

“Hello!” She said, voice a bit too cheery for the dark look on his face, “Can you believe Luna is dating George Weasley? Quite the plot twist, if you ask me — ”

“You didn’t tell me Collins tried to kiss you.”

“I didn’t.” Hermione agreed. “I’m perfectly capable of taking care of myself.”

“Hm.” Malfoy said, “Capable in all avenues of your life? Don’t need me to fuck you anymore?”

Hermione rolled her eyes. “That is not what I said.”

“Am I allowed to kill him?”

Before, she would’ve laughed, watched as his eyes glittered until they melted, until he laughed, too. But now, after fucking him for six and half months, Hermione knew the unfortunate truth: Malfoy was not joking. He never had been.

He was overly dramatic (the buckbeak incident from third year still was occasionally mentioned) but also quite sincere about his threats. A terrible combination, Hermione found.

Hermione shook her head solemnly. “No.” She said, “You are not.”

“Figured I should ask permission. You can punish me later.”

She caught his wrist. “Draco.” Hermione said softly, “Don’t be dramatic.”

He feigned a gasp. “I’m not doing anything.” Which was currently true. All he was doing was looking down at her like she was the only thing in the world that mattered.

“I’m just annoyed that my girlf—” he hesitated, and Hermione glanced away. So casually cruel, dangling that word out in front of her when he didn’t actually mean it.

“My person,” he continued “didn’t tell me that Collins from work, who is quite possibly the worst individual I’ve ever met, has tried, on what seems to be multiple occasions, to kiss her.”

“I don’t need anyone to take care of me. I can do that myself.” Hermione hissed. “Once, I punched Harry. He got a bloody nose!”

(She did not mention that said punch had been an accident, and she had cried about giving Harry a bloody nose for roughly 15 minutes after it happened. Harry had to console her, it had been, for a lack of better words: a mess.)

“I know you can,” Malfoy nodded, his smile, as always, a little mean, “But taking care of you is one of my favorite things to do. Those duties extend to light amounts of assault.”

“No need,” Hermione said primly, “I jinxed his balls to his left kneecap.”

Malfoy winced. “Effective,” he said, “my murderous little chihuahua.”

The air seemed to grow thicker, the muted silence stretching between them. Like clockwork, Hermione felt her eyes darting to his mouth, felt her skin prickling with a familiar heat. It felt, almost, as if she was someone else whenever he was around — a different version of herself, desperate for only his attention, longing for his approval.

Malfoy’s eyes were soft as he looked down at her, hands on either side of her, skin warm to the touch. Hermione wondered how he managed to keep all his softness sacred to only her.

Their first time had been a blur of sharp teeth and bruised flesh. He’d fucked her on the floor of her office, skirts rucked around her waist, whispered filthy words in her ear. In return, she had bit his neck until blood trickled down his flesh, smeared across her lips, the taste of copper mixing with the salt of their sweat.

After, when he’d tucked himself around her frame, holding her whole body, Hermione realized she liked this, too.

To sink into his embrace, to allow him to hold the weight of her bones. It had been bliss unlike anything she’d ever experienced, a freedom of thought; the world had been soft and quiet, his body a barrier between her and the noise.

The second and third time had happened in the same way: a challenge, someone to meet it — a broom closet, her groans blocked by his thumb heavy on her tongue, his face twisted in pleasure as he sunk inside her, inch by inch; a stolen moment in the bathroom of a crowded pub, his fingers tight in her hair, her hands pressed against the cool tile as he had pounded her from the back, grinning at her friends moments later, his cum dripping down her thighs.

But after that, they slipped into something more. His softness grew beyond the moments after they’d fucked, uncontained; she saw it in his eyes when she spoke, felt it when he guided her along the street, hand warm on her lower back.

And here they were, six and a half months later, the same feelings fresh, evergreen. It always felt a bit like the first time with him, limbs trembling, skin flushed; mind blissfully empty.

Malfoy touched her face, bringing her back to the kitchen, to the present, to the soft sounds of the party in the room next door. Back to him, and his inescapable warmth. He tilted his head to the side. Waiting.

Hermione nodded.

“Stick out your tongue.” He said, voice soft.

Heart hammering, Hermione did just that. Watched, in frozen anticipation, as Malfoy leaned over her frame, his front pressed tightly to her own, and spit into her mouth.

Wet and sloppy, dribbling off the edge of her tongue.

His fingers slipped under her skirt, flipping it over her stomach, tugging her knickers down her thighs, eyes hard on her trembling tongue. “Good,” he whispered when he found her wet, dripping down her thighs. “Spit.”

Hermione's eyes fluttered as she lowered her tongue. His saliva — her own, now — dripping down to land on her exposed cunt, joining the mess he created.

At the same time as he slipped his fingers between her legs, he pressed his other fingers into her mouth, muffling her whimpers.

“Keep you stuffed on both ends,” he whispered, thumb pressing down on her tongue, three fingers sunk into her cunt, “Nice and full.”

A muffled sound came from behind the cracked door. “I’ll get more fire whiskey!” Theo’s drunken voice cut through the murkiness of Hermione’s mind. slicing through the kitchen with the effectiveness of only the best cooking knives, “There’s got to me more inside the cabinet!”

Malfoy was hunched over her, his entire body curved around her back, fingers stilling inside her cunt. She felt his muscles tense, preparing to pull his fingers out, but her own tightened around his wrist, keeping him trapped. Within her, above her, inside her.

The door knob twitched, but then, Ron’s voice — “No, baby, I found another one. Under Harry’s head, he’s using it as a pillow, but I think we can take it —”

She hurried to release him, to set him free, to appear unaffected and pretend like she hadn’t clutched his arm tighter at the thought of someone catching them but it was already too late.

“Shy, all the sudden?” He whispered, teeth grazing her flesh, thumb finding her clit, pressing through the wetness.

“Do you want me to fuck you in front of all of our friends? Would that make you happy?” Hermione had a terrible feeling he would do it, too. Split her open for all to see — and that she’d let him.

“At least,” She gasped around his fingers, tongue thick, spit dripping down her neck, “then they’d know about us.”

He froze above her.

“What?” He took his fingers out of her mouth, and her traitorous tongue followed the line of spit.

“I said,” Hermione repeated in a voice that could be interpreted as petulant, “at least, everyone would know about us.”

“You don’t want anyone to know about us.”

Hermione scoffed. “No,” she said, “You are the one who doesn't want any of our friends to know — ”

“Come on, angel.” Malfoy said, eyes serious. “Think for me. Use that beautiful brain. When have I ever said that I didn’t want people to know about us? If you allowed me, I would tell the entire world that you let me fuck you. That you let me worship at your altar, take care of your every need. It would be the only thing I spoke about.”

“No,” Hermione whined, thoughts thick and heavy in her brain, she could still feel his unmoving fingers inside of her, “That. That’s not true, you said let’s just keep it between us.”

“As in, let's keep sex between us.” He squinted down at her in the yellow light of the kitchen. “Are you fucking other people? I’d like a list.”

“There isn’t a list.”

“I wasn’t clear before,” Malfoy was saying with great effort, “That is my fault, but please, allow me to be clear now. I’d like to be the only person you have sex with. If you’d have me.”

“When would I even have time to have sex with other people?”

He frowned. “I just said something very romantic.”

Hermione waved her hand, “Yes, very romantic, but — you sleep in my bed. With me. Every night. When do you think I’m hypothetically finding the time to fuck other people?”

A horrible thought occurred, “Have you been sleeping with other people?”

Malfoy recoiled as if she’d slapped him. “I think about fucking you all the time. Always you.” He said, looking a bit mad. “If you’re not beside me, I wait, like a dog at the door for your return. I am at your disposal. I am yours to use, to keep, to toss away — there is nothing, nothing I’d refuse, if only you asked.”

Heart in her throat, Hermione asked: “You want more?”

“I want everything.”

Hermione nodded. “You can have it.” She said, the grin on her face too bright for the dim kitchen, “I want all that you are, too.”

Malfoy let out a shaky exhale. “Later, we’ll tell everyone. I’ll become a nuisance to casual conversation, with the amount I’ll mention you. But, I’m going to fuck you now, alright? Will that be a problem?”

Hermione shook her head, stomach squirming. With more than just arousal, she realized.

Excitement was brewing — he wanted her, just as much as she did. Wanted the sleepy evenings and lazy mornings. Wanted to sit beside her at the pub, hand on her thigh for all to see; wanted to be her date to exhausting ministry galas, wanted to be seen. Wanted everyone to know.

“No,” she gasped as he pressed in to her, “That won’t be a problem.”

[gffa]

So I am very behind on The Mandalorian and just saw 3x03 "The Convert" yesterday, and I was wondering if you had any ideas about how the New Republic was framed in that episode? I'm trying to grapple with it, and am not totally sure why we were shown this. I mean, obviously everything with this is intentional from the writers, producers, showrunners, all of them, but I was wondering how other people saw this episode.

Honestly, I just don't have enough faith in Favreau's writing for the show to feel like there's anything there, I genuinely don't know if it was meant to be taken at face value, if it was meant to be thematic of the problems inherent in the foundation of the New Republic, or just Rule of Cool from top to bottom. If the writing were stronger, I might give thought to well, what is the point of Elia Kane's character, what is the point of bringing back Dr. Pershing, what is the point of showing us this program for former Imperials in the New Republic, but given the way season 3 ends, I'm not sure what the point would be. Anything that's introduced in this season ultimately feels pointless and it's just there because the show wants to expand the universe, not because it's relevant to the thematic elements of the show. I think what the show wants is to have all its Rule of Cool stuff (included just because it's awesome to put in a Star Wars show) and to be something of an anthology series, where episodes are devoted to fleshing out everything that's going on in the galaxy around them, to develop stronger ties between the movie trilogies. Except none of the New Republic stuff really seems to go anywhere, it's not relevant to Moff Gideon's story, it's not relevant to Din Djarin's story (like the Order 66 flashback is relevant because it's illustrating Grogu's characterization and where he's at at this point in time and what he's dealing with), and maybe it'll come into relevance in the fourth season, but I'm extremely doubtful. I can't really get a bead on what Favreau's thoughts about the New Republic are, so I can't really figure out the framing, and I've basically stopped trying because what does it even matter? Like, say what you will about George Lucas, that guy knew the story he was telling and the themes he wanted and, when he included a scene, it was with the thought of supporting the central tenets. I think The Mandalorian has always leaned towards adding things in for fun (the things that'll "break the internet", that are included just to break the internet) but it really came to a head this season and now half of the show is just stuff that's happening without any kind of eye towards the structure of a bigger storyline or purpose. Like maybe I'm missing something because I'm so disinterested in whatever this show is trying to achieve, but it really does feel like there just wasn't a purpose to including it, other than that maybe Favreau wanted to try to connect the OT to the ST because he likes writing references to the movies more than developing the structure of his own story. And sometimes you can get away with that, because people like seeing Luke Skywalker and an interlude of him just doing stuff has relevance just because he's the face of the franchise and so much of the heart of the story. But you can't do the same for Dr. Pershing or even the New Republic as a whole, you have to have a point there and I'm not sure there was one.

[abiiors]

what are your opinions on the article that just came out?

hi darling! thanks for asking <3

okay so i read the article twice because i actually wanted to talk about it in detail. and i still feel a bit all over the place about it (i think no matter how much i edit this, i'm never going to feel like i'm being articulate so i'm going to just let it be)

as far as answering the question goes---who is matty healy?---i do think it does a wonderful, albeit predictable job. fans who have known him and followed him for ages, and watched him go through all his phases---his "eras"---won't be much surprised by what the article reveals about his character. but i do think it does a wonderful job of portraying him as a simple, ordinary man (and i mean that in the best way possible)

his music and stage presence and political views aside, i think as a person he is very much like someone any of us would know irl. he cares too much but doesn't want to show that he does. he is vulnerable one moment and then makes a joke to clear the air. he's curious, sometimes about the wrong things ("he told me that he became a fan [of the podcast] in part because he was attracted to differences in opinion, and also to one of the hosts, whom he described as “really sexy.”"). and yes, he definitely isn't a fan of the fame; he has made that much very clear over the years. (although i do think he indulges in it sometimes as a form of self-flagellation (ha! ironic of me to use a religious term for it))

onto this bit that i literally just made fun of:

no, i think he is objectively wrong here and for that I'm going to reference the caitlin moran times interview where her daughters are quoted saying "he looked bare ill and sad" (sadly don't have access to it anymore, it's behind a paywall). point is - his fans have shown him time and time again that they care, more than just the surface level. more than just shouting "fuck me!!" in his face.

2. i'm not going to rehash the podcast and the porn stuff. i think we've had several discussions on it already but i am quite happy that the article didn't just gloss it over.

3. i really want to mention some bits i found very sweet or even at times, bittersweet -

-----

(he refers to george ^)

-------

-------

(ross has a niece 🥹💕)

-----

4. and onto a lighter note, this bit that i found genuinely fucking hilarious!

5. and finally, regarding the taylor swift rumours. i love the final note of ambiguity. and i respect it very much.

that's that i think, if i think of more (and i most probably will), i'll make more posts <3

[georgegraphys]

Warning : Heavily opinionated as I speak from my experience (which may be lacking) as someone who worked and studied in PR/Marketing sector so please take it lightly as this is just for a fun agree-to-disagree discussion

Okay let's talk about it

To some grussell sprouts, the development of George's "meme" persona to the general fans might be an annoying phenomenon because we often see George being reduced to nothing but memes and people just talk about his funny moments, like him for his looks or underrate him.

But what if I said it wasn't all that negative? Career wise.

F1 is a sport where you have to establish a personality or strong branding to shine there. It's not only about skills and talents sadly (let's face reality). We all know that not all F1 figures decide to go down this road but at the very least, they all do and they must do especially the current ones. After his Sakhir 2020 performance and pre-Mercedes era, I'd rank George's marketability somewhere around 6-10 on the grid. People know he is talented but often times, they do not know him enough to know about his personality. Very different from the likes of Norris or Ricciardo (in a good way). I won't blame anyone and their moms for this because George is in a Williams back then, which may lack some spotlight to it compared to the Williams nowadays.

Then he came to Mercedes. And he acts like usual. Like what he did in Williams. He has always been George the way he is since forever. But people are shocked when they know more and start to come to their own conclusion and stereotype him as "bitchy", "tory", etc. Why does this happen? Because they know he is there on the grid, he is famous but they don't know him enough to know his personality. And so he got stereotyped and people got the wrong idea of him.

But George's personality starts to show more to the general fans eyes as the "george russell is the type of guy..." memes appear and the intro pose soon follows. People are getting to know him through liking his "new" funny personality. It isn't anything new actually. George is being George but they just got to know him aside from his radio, race personality, and face. They just got to know more of George through his personality that is "goofy" for them even though it is honestly nothing new.

Then the hair part rolls in. Believe me, hair theory exists and works. It is a part of marketing and PR sometimes. George's hair made him look friendlier than before to the general public as it was a style they are more familiar with. Me and you, as George's fans, honestly do not care whether he wants to use 100 gels or go bald (We'd still like him) but to the general public that doesn't really know him? It matters. So you need to understand that even though those don't matter to you. They matter to the general fans and help them to like him more.

There's also the part where the sponsors actually start to know the direction they'll take with George. This is shown clearly by the way Tommy, Ritz, Marriott, Puma, etc produce/direct his recent ads/photoshoots/etc. If you are able to notice, they seem to have a clearer perspective of the direction where they are taking things with George and trust me, it is a very positive sign. A brand who knows what to do with its client is a sign of longevity and new strength in their partnership. They have these visions because they are starting to see the market and buzz building up, alongside with more chances that he gets to show his personality off-track through interviews, events, etc that he is invited to. This is actually a very good form of personal branding. And honestly, the trend is going upwards and this is actually helping him career wise because with the way he is and the more people get to know the real him and his personality, he will attract a lot of sponsors that fits him too. Not only team sponsors but also individual sponsors in the future as well 👀

I understand that some grussell sprouts might not view this favorably because there are some people who will only like him for their looks, are toxic, etc but there are some positives to take from this "seemingly new but nothing new" boom that he got from the past 6-10 months. For the real grussell sprouts out there, let's root for him the way we always do! 🩵💓🩵💓

[kosmos2999]

Saturday’s Late Night Sci-Fi Cinema:

The Humanoid (1979 film)

Original Italian release poster (left) and American release poster (right)

Main cast:

Richard Kiel as Golob Corinne Clery as Doctor Barbara Gibson Leonard Mann as Nick Ivan Rassimov as Lord Graal Massimo Serato as The Great Brother Marco Yeh as Tom Tom Arthur Kennedy as Doctor Kraspin Barbara Bach as Lady Agatha

Production staff:

Directed by: Aldo Lado (as George B. Lewis) Story by: Adriano Bolzoni Screenplay by: Adriano Bolzoni, Aldo Lado and Garry Rusoff (uncredited) Produced by: Giorgio Venturini Cinematography by: Silvano Ippoliti Edited by: Mario Morra Music by: Ennio Morricone Production company: Merope Film Released by: Titanus (Italy) and Columbia Pictures (US) Original release date: April 11, 1979 (Italy) YouTube channel: Something Wild Video

In a far distant future, the planet known as Earth, Metropolis, is facing a great danger.

Lord Graal, the evil brother of the Ruler of the Peaceful Galactic Democracy, the Great Brother, has escaped from his inprisonment.

The Great Brother (above) and Lord Graal (below)

After a succesfull escape, Graal seeks refuge on the planet Noxon. A world under slavery of the wicked 200 year-old Lady Agatha, who wants to be at Graal's side on his conquest of Metropolis and the rest of the galaxy.

They will get the help of Dr. Kraspin, a malevolous scientist, and also an outcast from Metropolis. He has a hatred for Dr. Barbara Gibson for being the accuser of his lack of ethics.

Dr. Kraspin and Lady Agatha

The evil trio has a ploy to turn the citizens of Metropolis into humanoids using a rare element named Kapitron. As they stole it from the Groven Institute located on Metropolis.

They took a tall man, a soldier named Golob as a guinea pig. And then he was ordered to kill Dr. Gibson. A plan that failed thanks to Tom Tom, a kid with mystic powers.

Golob as a human

Golob with his robot dog, Kip

Golob turrned into a humanoid

Golob now joins Dr. Gibson, Tom Tom, a young soldier named Nick and a couple of mysterious warriors to fight the menace of Lord Graal and his evil allies.

From left to right: Nick, Tom Tom, Dr. Barbara Gibson and Golob

The Humanoid, (a translalation from the original title L' Umanoide) a 1979 space opera film from director Aldo Lado under the pseudonym of George B. Lewis

Fascinating facts:

This film was produced and released two years after Star Wars: Episode IV, A New Hope. Because the similarities in story, plot and character costumes, it is considered a rip off the George Lucas movie. Even more, filmmaker Aldo Lado used the pseudonym of George B. Lewis for directing it.

It was ranked 28 (of a list of 75) of the Best Space Opera Movies by the Independent Movie Database (IMDb).

The opening sequence was directed by Enzo G. Castellari. It was uncredited.

The special effects supervisor was Antonio Margheriti under the pseudonym of Anthony M. Dawson. He was the director of the film shown in this blog last weekend, War Between The Planets and the other three movies of the Gamma-One series.

Some of the scenes -- particullary the ones of the Groven Institute -- were filmed at Eliat, Israel.

The Groven Institute

In Germany, the movie was re-titled Kampf Um Die 5 Galaxis (fight for the 5th galaxy).

Comment: In my opinion, mo matter this is a Star Wars rip off, The Humanoid is a very enjoyable movie. That's why I choose to share it with you this weekend.

Thank you for your support on the third year of this blog.

I also want to share this images from Golob's starship taken from screenshots of the movie. Very nice design!

For more information and more stuff about this movie, you can access the film's official homepage:

[semper-legens]

184. 1984, illustrated by Matyás Namai

Owned: No, library Page count: Unknown/not numbered My summary: A graphic novel adaption of George Orwell’s 1984. Winston Smith lives in Oceania, one of the three big powers in the world and home of Ingsoc, English socialism. Citizens of Oceania are watched through telescreens, must guard their minds from thoughtcrime, and cannot go against the Party in any way - unless they want to be detained by the Party, that is. But for Winston, everything changes when he meets Julia, a young woman who shares his anti-Party convictions. It’s a matter of time until they’re caught. But while they have it, they’ll share the love they’ve found. My rating: 4/5 My commentary:

1984! Who doesn't love a boot pressing down on a human face forever? This is actually the second graphic novel adaptation of 1984 that I've talked about here - what can I say, I find graphic novel adaptations of books that I'm familiar with interesting. I like to see how different artists interpret the source material, and 1984 poses some unique challenges to the adapter. Go completely oppressive and dystopian? Draw from Nazi imagery, communist imagery? Go a bit more sci-fi with it? How do the different characters look? What does this world look like? And what do we do about the giant section in the middle that's literally just the characters reading an in-universe book full of exposition dumping?

Well, this was actually a really good and interesting adaptation of 1984. The aesthetic is pretty much dystopian Europe, circa the Berlin Wall or Soviet Russia. One choice I really liked was that the art is completely monochrome but for splashes of red - blood, Julia's sash, the makeup she later wears. It's very striking and used to good effect here to contrast the grey of the world around Winston and Julia. The art also uses this sort of stream-of-consciousness surreality to depict Winston's dreams and fantasies; during the Hate in the early part of the book, we see Winston's violent fantasies against Julia being enacted in the background, and small scenes are used to underscore Winston's narration, like showing his neighbour's spying children when talking about what the Party has done to the family unit. Speaking of, the narration and dialogue (at least as far as I could tell) are lifted verbatim from the book. I don't think there's much if any original text here. Which is interesting, given the more visual nature of the medium in general. I don't think 1984 would work so much as a story without the ability to see into Winston's head, which makes the diary conceit that much more useful to show his thoughts as he performs his duty.

The imagery is also horrifying, at times. While we never see anything too explicit, we still get a good sense of what has happened to these characters and what is happening at various points of the narrative. The fear of the rats in room 101 is made clear without even showing them, which is interesting; we don't see Winston getting tortured in too graphic detail, but the way his body decays over his period of captivity is shown in full, horrifying detail. This adaptation understands the need for restraint, which is good - I think a lesser artist might be tempted to show these things in full detail, and as such turn the story into more of a gore exploitation thing, which really doesn't fit the narrative. A lot is left unsaid and unseen, which makes the violence that we do see that much more shocking for it. Overall, a really solid adaptation, and I'm very glad I picked it up.

Next, something completely different - records of a house full of ghosts.

[gen-washington]

|| THE BASICS ||

NAME: George Washington

NICKNAME(S): Georgie, Tiger (only to Martha). For the official list see x

AGE: Depending on timeline it’s either late 40′s (General) or 50′s (President).

SPECIES: Human

|| PERSONAL ||

MORALITY: lawful / neutral / chaotic ||| good /  gray / evil

RELIGIOUS BELIEF: Christian

VIRTUES: chastity / charity / diligence / humility / kindness / patience / justice

PRIMARY GOALS IN LIFE: Freedom from English rule. Serve his country.

LANGUAGES KNOWN: English

SECRETS: Due to the nature of his position(s) he has a lot of professional secrets. On a personal level however, he hides his shame over not having fathered any children (although he of course considers his adopted children as his own).

QUIRKS: I don’t know if this would be considered a quirk exactly, but Washington enjoys listening to others speak on matters they are passionate about. He will spend most part of a dinner in silence, listening to the conversations at the table, and only occasionally put in a word. This also comes from his awareness that he would take over any conversation that he decided to actively participate in.

SAVVIES: Despite never receiving a proper education Washington is very intelligent and quick to grasp new ideas.

|| PHYSICAL ||

BUILD: slender / scrawny / bony / fit / athletic / herculean / babyfat / pudgy / obese / other  

HEIGHT: 6′1″ (accounts vary from 6′0″ to 6′3″ so I’m taking Ian Khan’s height)

SCARS/BIRTHMARKS: In his youth he had smallpox, which left his face scarred (this is not shown in any portraits however). He also has other small marks and blemishes from battles and adventures in the wild.

ABILITIES/POWERS: N/A

RESTRICTIONS: Always maintains a stiff and composed appearance and civil manners. He always has to restrain his emotions and doesn’t act out thoughtlessly.

|| FAVOURITES ||

FAVOURITE FOOD: Meat pie with mashed root vegetables

FAVOURITE DRINK: Wine

FAVOURITE PIZZA TOPPING: Pizzas have not really reached Washington’s table, but he would probably enjoy a variety of seafood and fresh tomatoes.

FAVOURITE COLOR: Green

FAVOURITE MUSIC GENRE: String music

FAVOURITE BOOK GENRE: Biographical texts (or journals) of explorers and leaders.

FAVOURITE MOVIE GENRE: N/A

FAVOURITE SEASON: Summer -- the season of life, prosperity, late evenings, walks in the forest, flowers for his wife, horse riding over the grounds, watching the crops grow.

FAVOURITE BUTT TYPE: A gentleman doesn’t tell.

FAVOURITE CURSE WORD: Damn or hell, although he always strives to remain composed and avoid cursing.

FAVOURITE SCENT: Freshly baked bread

|| FUN STUFF ||

BOTTOM OR TOP: Whatever his wife desires

LOUD BURPER OR SOFT BURPER: Hides the burps, anything else would be impolite.

SINGS IN THE SHOWER BATH: Certainly hums something if he is in a good mood.

LIKES BAD PUNS: Is it a bad pun if you like it?

THEIR OPINION ON THE MUN: Probably finds me weird but is flattered that I write him and return to this blog for so many years.

TAGGED BY: the amazing @honorhearted​

TAGGING: I am so late with this that I don’t know who has already done it.

[george-weasleys-girl]

Yay! I finally got that last question answered @milivanili99

What inspired you to write the fic this way?

The short answer is that this particular fic, along with my undying love for George, is what started it all. This fic still influences so much of how I see him.

The long answer is that George and Fred are written pretty much as one-dimensional characters. We know they're pranksters who don't care about the status quo and that George is the quieter, kinder one, while Fred is more willing to push boundaries. That's really about it.

But being that they're background characters, it makes sense that we only see them insomuch as how their actions matter to the series.

I wanted to explore the gaps in George's story. Especially his personal life. Because, let's face it, the twins' personal lives aren't important to the plot. (I mean, we have two whole years between them leaving Hogwarts and going into hiding where the only thing we know about them is that the joke shop is a success.)

~•~

Before I started writing, I did a ton of prep. Reading fanfics, theories, interviews, and researching twin dynamics. Everything I've read, especially the real-life stories, has shown me that twin relationships can be far more layered and complicated than the usual stereotype presents. In chapter 6, when George worries if people only like him because he's Fred's twin, that comes from a discussion online, where people talked about feeling inferior, sometimes vastly so, to their twin, despite them being incredibly close.

Even the self-indulgent fantasy is largely based on real life. George and Y/N's instant, easy connection is based on the parents of my best friend in high school. They met in college, hit it off instantly, and got married immediately after they graduated. They're still happily married and madly in love over 30 years later.

Or at the end of chapter 24, when Y/N senses something has happened to George, that's based on a friend of mine whose left leg started throbbing out of the blue one day. An hour later, she gets a call that her boyfriend (now husband) had slipped on some icy stairs and broke his left leg.

In all honesty, right now, I'm pulling from multiple happy relationships that I know personally. Even if it may seem a little unrealistic at times, I want to give George and Y/N a strong foundation to stand on because the future isn't always going to be so easy.

Anyway, I think that's it. I'm not sure if I said too much or not enough. 😆 Feel free to ask any and all questions.