#rip shield 💔

[ahalliance]

possibly no stream tonight, but you never know with this guy

[fatum679]

2x08 H+A

The first scene between Aemond and Helaena 💔

I should say right away that I condemn what Aemond did and do not justify it. I will analyze his actions and reactions. The truth is, I would never dream of him hurting his sister. But I tried to analyze all this without blaming the writers, although we all know how mediocre they are.

Helaena is glad to see Aemond, but he came to her and speaks to her not as a sister, but as if she were a soldier, which makes her look at him in confusion. Helaena refuses to participate in the war, Aemond has a fit of anger.

Aemond is desperate because he knows he can't win this war against other adult dragons. Sunfyre and Tessarion are useless against adult dragons, even if Aemond hadn't hit Sunfyre he already had his wing crushed and his belly ripped open by Meleys, even if Sunfyre was healthy he still can't handle adult dragons. TG is initially at a disadvantage. Aemond understands all this and he only has Dreamfyre left because she is older than Vermithor and Silverwing, and Helain. He did not ask her to fight until he knew he could handle it himself, but now he can't do without her.

Aemond really cares about his family (except Aegon), he understands that they will all die if they lose. ! I do not condone Aemond's actions towards Helaena ! But we see that his whole family does not take the war seriously (Alicent and Aegon).

Alicent put Aegon on the throne, created a whole party, raised children with the thought that they would be killed (it's true) now she does not want to take responsibility for the situation created, she tells her party's plans and lets the enemy go. (If she wanted to see Rhaenyra as queen, then what were all the scenes in episodes 5, 6, 7 for?) Aegon, who accepted the crown, but spent time with his drinking buddies, was incompetent and decided to get drunk and attack Meleys.

I have no questions for Helaena, she does not want to participate in the war, it is her choice, she has the right to it. Aemond does not understand this decision and does not accept it. He expected that she would be happy to avenge her son, but Helaena is not like other Targaryens and no matter how much I want to see a piece of the conqueror in her, she will never be like Visenya and Rhaenys. She truly values ​​every life, so she takes care of the bugs and does not accept violence. I respect and admire Helaena.

In this scene, Aemond is angry not because he is losing power, as the antis believe, but because his family is about to die and he feels alone because no one takes it seriously. Aemond is truly a man of chaos and destruction, while Helaena is creation and order.

The second scene between Helaena and Aemond 💔

Aemond comes to their secret place for private meetings, he is desperate, his voice is shaking, there are tears in his eyes and he feels a strong sense of guilt because he hurt Helaena, he begs her for help, to be with him, but Helaena refuses. And this scene is beautiful, because Helaena is beautiful. She is truly sinless, she is not angry at Aemond for his cruelty, she looks at him without judgment. She wants him to admit his evil. She does not hate him, there is no hate in her. She wants Aemond to see himself, to see what he has become. We see how Aemond's heart breaks when Helaena asks him if he would do the same to her as he did to Aegon. Aemond ready to shield her with his body from the dragon's flame. Now Aemond answered Aegon's evil with his own evil.

Helaena does not want war and revenge, because she already knows what awaits them all and has accepted it. Helaena understands that they are all just grains of sand in the galaxy and the world will not stop if their lives are extinguished. Therefore, she resigned herself and accepted the death.

Helaena speaks of the future, her voice quieter and tears in her eyes, before she speaks of Aemond's death she pauses, her throat shaking with a spasm, but she delivers the sentence. Aemond thinks she is lying and threatening her like a small, frightened child. What it is like to realize that nothing made sense and life had no meaning because they were doomed. Helaena has lived her whole life knowing all this and now Aemond know.

We expected a kissing scene between Aemond and Healena, but we got a scene where they are both dressed, but completely naked to the bone. Aemond, who wanted to hug her, and cries in despair, like a 10-year-old child. Healena, as in her childhood, tells him about the inevitable, about his fate. She looks into his eyes, and it is really hard for her to talk about his death.

Wie gerne würden wir unser Schicksal kennen... wohin es uns führt. Doch die Wahrheit ist: Es gibt nur einen Weg durch alle Zeiten. Vorherbestimmt durch den Anfang und das Ende, was zugleich der Anfang ist.

There's a lot of pain and longing in this scene. The way Aemond instinctively reaches out to Helaena, as if they'd held hands all the time, like in Episode 9, but now he stops, afraid to touch her because he feels guilty. The way Aemond talks about their blood, like he used to talk about preserving dragon blood as a child. He came to their secret place. He came knowing Helaena would be there. And Helaena knew Aemond would come.

We didn't have a kissing scene or a passionate embrace, but we did have a scene where they both showed their bones. It was the most emotional and heartbreaking scene in two seasons.

[seelestia]

YOU HAVE A GUARANTEED FROM CLARA BECAUSE CLARA'S VA IS PRESIDENT AVENTURINE SIMP WHICH MEANS YOU WILL GET DOUBLE EARLY FIVE STARS TRUST ME BRO IM FROM THE FUTURE !!!

THANK U, MIREI / USER MILK-VIOLET / TIME TRAVELLER FROM THE FUTURE !!! i am here to dedicate the most monumental wins in my life to you & emily (the avenation's president) o7

so pls allow me to ramble a bit abt how my pulls went:

he came home EARLY !!!! 31 pity counts as pretty early to me like i genuinely did not believe my eyes at first. but who am i to complain 🫣🫣 i also got his LC!!! not as early since it came at 69 pity - but still the first 5* LC that i've ever pulled for willingly LMAO so it's still a win in my book! congrats to this silly guy for breaking my no-warping-for-LC's streak ig 💔

by the time i got aventurine & his LC, i have 55 warps left + 12 more from the starlight exchange for jingliu.... but she did not come home and e2 bronya did instead. this woman is stubborn 😔 so now it's either i continue grinding jades for her or i save 'em all for sunday (delulu) !!!!

MOVING ON - i spent the whole day maxing his traces, so i wanted to show his build aka my blood, sweat and tears. HERE COMES THE BOY !!!! his crit ratio is 30/184 with just the relics - but thanks to his traces & LC (that provide a crit rate boost based on def & a crit dmg boost respectively), this man's stats in combat went 🆙🆙. here's a comparison for my aven's crit ratio out of battle vs in battle!

(ignore the team setup on the right: that's my default farming team with a free slot for support charas that i borrow from friends 🏃 i run him w/ ruan mei, silver wolf and dr. ratio! rip luocha ur services will be missed)

from what i observe, he does a consistent 50~60k with his ult and an average 25~35k with his FUA. i'd say that's good !!! his shield in itself is already op. regrettably, i wished he could have more SPD, but i'll take what i can get! all that matters is that he's here safe and sound <3

[justrainandcoffee]

I did this with us plus our ocs and some characters.

@peakyswritings @emotionalcadaver @evita-shelby @moral-terpitude @call-sign-shark

As the tributes stand on their podiums, the horn sounds.

Reb gathers as much food as she can.

Alfie breaks John's nose for a basket of bread (🤭😂)

Rose runs away with a lighter and some rope.

Eva and Linda work together to drown July .

Arthur finds a backpack full of camping equipment.

Esme and Lucy fight for a bag. Esme gives up and retreats.

→ Eva wtf!!!! Omg!! I'm so sorry, July!! Probably that's her revenge for the horrors 😂😂.

→ All the others just escaped from the cornucopia.

.

Day 1

Quinn and Uncle Charlie hunt for other tributes.

Alfie searches for firewood.

Reb diverts Michael's attention and runs away.

Shark questions her sanity. (Good for you, Shark! 🤭)

Jessie Eden sets an explosive off, killing John.

Linda overpowers Arthur, killing him (her abuser, so...)

Nina goes hunting.

Lucy, Tommy, Eva, Rose , and Heaven hunt for other tributes.

Ava forces Aberama to kill Flor or Lauren . He refuses to kill, so Ava kills him instead.

→ Ava, wtf!! We're friends 🤧🤧😭😭.

.

Night 1

Ava looks at the night sky.

Eva lets Rose into her shelter.

Reb sets up camp for the night.

Lauren and Quinn talk about the tributes still alive.

Heaven, Lucy, Shark, and Alfie sleep in shifts.

Flor pushes Linda off a cliff during a knife fight. 💁‍♀️

Tommy sets an explosive off, killing Michael (yessss)

Nina passes out from exhaustion.

.

Day 2

Lucy receives medical supplies from an unknown sponsor.

Ava searches for a water source.

Lauren makes a slingshot.

Alfie sprains his ankle while running away from Nina.

Heaven is pricked by thorns while picking berries.

Reb goes hunting.

Shark, Flor , Quinn, and Polly form a suicide pact, killing themselves.

Eva receives medical supplies from an unknown sponsor.

Rose discovers a river.

→ omg!! Rip Shark and me 😔. Hope you miss us.

Night 2

Eva looks at the night sky.

Jessie Eden stays awake all night.

Uncle Charlie ambushes Rose and kills her (why!!!)

Lucy stays awake all night.

Alfie unknowingly eats toxic berries.

Reb goes to sleep.

Heaven, Lauren , Ava, Tommy, and Nina sleep in shifts.

→ not for the first time Alfie and Rose die the same day or night 😭💔.

Day 3

Jessie Eden overhears Lauren and Uncle Charlie talking in the distance.

Reb runs away from Esme.

Heaven, Sabini, Eva, Tommy, and Nina hunt for other tributes.

Ava receives clean water from an unknown sponsor.

Lucy thinks about home.

Night 3

Reb destroys Nina's supplies while she is asleep.

Uncle Charlie and Lauren run into each other and decide to truce for the night.

Esme strangles Tommy with a rope. (Holy shit!!)

Lucy receives fresh food from an unknown sponsor.

Heaven and Ava tell stories about themselves to each other.

Eva starts a fire.

→ Reb, please!! Poor Nina!! She's your girl!!

Night 5

Nina and Lauren talk about the tributes still alive.

Eva and Reb hold hands.

Ava, Uncle Charlie, and Lucy discuss the games and what might happen in the morning.

Jessie Eden shoots a poisonous blow dart into Heaven's neck, slowly killing her. (The fuck, Jessie 👀!!)

Sabini receives medical supplies from an unknown sponsor.

Esme cannot handle the circumstances and commits suicide. (Poor Esme)

The feast

The cornucopia is replenished with food, supplies, weapons, and memoirs from the tributes' families.

Lucy decides not to go to The Feast.

Uncle Charlie decides not to go to The Feast.

Reb, Sabini, Ava, Eva, and Nina track down and kill Lauren .

→ idk, but Ava was after Laur from the first moment 🙃.

Day 6

Eva bleeds out due to untreated injuries.

Uncle Charlie sets Nina on fire with a molotov.

Ava chases Sabini.

Reb travels to higher ground.

Lucy accidently detonates a land mine while trying to arm it.

Arena Event

Monkey mutts fill the arena.

Sabini survives.

Reb survives.

Uncle Charlie uses Ava as a shield from the monkey mutts.

Night 6

Uncle Charlie lets Reb into his shelter. (Please 😂😂)

Sabini falls into a frozen lake and drowns.

Day 7

Reb spears Uncle Charlie in the abdomen. 👀👀

The winner is Reb from District 3!

Good for you @peakyswritings !!! To be honest, uncle Charlie deserved it!! He was out of control!!

[adenei]

Exile

We're back for Era 5 of @cruelsummer-ficfest!

Song: Exile (Folklore)

Ship: Romione

Read on Ao3

His hand tightens around the bottle of Butterbeer he’s suddenly lost the taste for. He knew she’d be here; why wouldn’t she? But he still hoped she wouldn’t show. 

To make matters worse, she walks in with another man. And not just any man, but the one she knows will cut him the deepest: Viktor Krum. The Quidditch star’s hand is splayed across the small of her back and her eyes shine as she glances up at him, laughing at a joke that Ron is sure isn’t funny at all. 

It’s sick and twisted irony at its finest. Two years ago, they were here in this same spot for the same occasion, only now there is no unknown looming in the midst of a full-fledged war. Now, there is no Hermione in his life either. She’d made certain of that.

It didn’t take her long to pack her things and leave for Australia shortly after the war ended. She’d given no explanation, no goodbye. She took everything he thought they’d fought for and left him alone to pick up the pieces.

Maybe it wasn’t love after all.

Memories of Bill and Fleur’s wedding flit through his mind as he watches Vicky lead Hermione to an empty table. His heart aches as he remembers dancing with her; how just for a moment, things felt normal. Just for a moment, he was a teenage boy, drumming up the courage to seek something more with the girl who meant everything to him. Only for it all to be ripped away in the blink of an eye. 

Now, two years later, everyone who survived the war is gathered again for Bill and Fleur’s vow renewal, where there are no threats of danger looming on the horizon. Only the promise of a well-deserved party. 

But try as he might, Ron cannot find it within himself to be happy. She should be here with him. It should be his hand on the small of her back, whispering a joke about how Percy’s too serious or Mum trying—and failing—to cut Bill’s hair again. And her laugh would be real because he knows what she finds funny.

Instead, he stands on the sidelines, shielded by the circle of his brothers and Harry, who are engaged in some other conversation. His eyes never leave her, though she doesn’t notice him at all. 

Maybe, if things were different, he could ask what went wrong. Where the fine line they always walked between friendship and something more snapped. Why she never gave him a chance. Would it have been so hard to hear him out? To give a warning sign that she was leaving?

Though he’s learned to read her well over the years, he never could read her mind. And he couldn’t turn things around. If she’d just given him a warning, he could have fixed things. He could have followed her. 

But war doesn’t care who it fucks up along the way, and Ron and Hermione are perfect examples of that. A lost love that never stood a chance. 

Sometimes, Ron wishes it was him and not Fred. Even death would be better than the life of exile he leads as he sees her now.

💔

From the moment she arrives, she can feel his eyes on her, burning into her skin like Fiendfyre. It’d been a coincidence, arriving seconds before Viktor. But she appreciated his warm smile and kind gestures once he realized she was attending alone. It was the support she needed to get her through those first awkward moments.

Hermione laughs. Not at the lighthearted joke Viktor makes, but at the reaction she elicits from him. Like he’s ready to get his knuckles bloody and stake his claim. Her heart flutters as she sees a glimpse of the Ron she once knew. The Ron she fell in love with before the war sucked the life out of him.

She tried to wait for him. Gave him so many chances to come to her, to open up, to talk. Even to simply cry as she held him and told him it would be okay. Any of that would have been better than the vacant stares she received instead. The shell of a man who’d had so much personality; all washed away from the locket, seeing her tortured, and witnessing death.

The decision to leave him behind had been the hardest yet, even harder than sending her parents away. Deep down, she knew he couldn’t come with her. She’d lost track of how many tears she cried—and still does. One year gone, and she still misses him more than anything. Still yearns for a chance to be something more. He was her crown; she’s empty without him.

💔

Ron and Hermione spend the better part of the evening avoiding each other. No one urges them to seek the other out. Everyone is careful not to speak the other’s name in their presence. It’s only when Ron finds the atmosphere of the tent too suffocating that he steps out into the grounds of the Burrow for a break, and Hermione follows.

“Shouldn’t you be getting back to Vicky?” he says once he settles by the old oak tree near the pond.

She draws a sharp breath in, not realizing he could sense her presence this whole time. “No. It was nice to catch up with him, but he’s not the reason I came tonight.”

“I would hope not.” Hollow laughter catches in Ron’s throat. “Considering this is a celebration for Bill and Fleur.”

“I didn’t come for them either.”

Ron turns and peers at her in the moonlight reflecting off the water. “Then why are you here?”

“For you,” she says simply. 

The words take Ron aback, and his forehead creases as he watches her closely. 

“Why?” he dares. “You left. Why would you come back?”

She steels herself with a deep breath. “I never left for good. And I never wanted to leave you. But you were—I didn’t know how to help you anymore, Ron. You were broken and everything I tried wasn’t helping. I needed to find my parents. I couldn’t delay my search any longer. And I thought maybe some space might help.”

“Then why didn’t you say any of that?” he snaps.

“I tried! I’d ask you to take a walk with me, joined you in your room after dinner. Every time I tried to bring it up you’d say you were tired or excuse yourself or do something else to avoid any hint of emotion that didn’t wrap you in grief!”

He opens his mouth, then closes it. No words come out as he stares in utter disbelief.

“I never intended to be away for over a year, but the search took longer than I thought it would. I barely found them before I had to return for Hogwarts. Maybe I should have been clearer, but I thought you knew. I wasn’t giving up on us, I swear.” Tears fill her eyes. 

His demeanor softens as he pushes himself off of the tree and takes a step toward her. “You tried to tell me?”

She nods. “I gave so many signs.”

“I never saw them.”

They both remain quiet for a while, neither knowing what to say. After a while, Hermione finally dares to speak again. “You seem like you’re doing better.”

“I guess.” Ron shrugs and kicks his toe into the ground. “There’s still something missing, though.”

Hermione reaches out to touch his arm. It’s a risky move, but she does it anyway. “I’m sure there always will be,” she whispers. “You’re missing a brother.”

“What?” Ron looks up. “No, not Fred. I’ve learned to work through that.”

“Lavender, then?”

“No.”

“Then—”

Ron steps forward, cutting her off. “You, Hermione. You’re missing.” His hands find the sides of her face, cupping her tenderly as he guides her gaze to him.

Tears well in her eyes and a few spill down her cheeks from the overflow. “I missed you. I was so worried we wouldn’t be able to move past this.”

“I know. I’m sorry I fucked up.”

“You didn’t. You were hurting. You lost so much.”

They’re so close their foreheads touch. She can feel his hot breath on her skin as her arms wrap around his torso, willing him to close the distance. And he does, but not until he responds first.

“Yeah, but I didn’t lose my ‘everything.’” 

Their lips meet. It’s soft and sweet and full of emotion, but there is no urgency to it. Not like there was during the battle. This kiss is a reconciliation, a step out of exile and into each other’s arms, where they’ve always meant to be.

When they break apart, Ron makes a promise. “I know I couldn’t change things around back then, but I’ll be better now. For us. I can’t lose you too, Hermione.”

“You won’t. I promise you won’t.”

I think I’ve seen this film before

And I didn’t like the ending

So I’m leavin’ out the side door

[freakenomenon]

Preface I do not know much about Manya I AM SORRY CHAT IM BEST FAMILIAR WITH THE NOVELLA FIRST THEN GAME 💔

BUT if Manya was a survivor along with Ellen I imagine their sense of love is very quiet. It is not the random bursts of passion Ellen receives by the men for giving them favors, but silent assurances. The small squeeze of a hand before they’re separated by AM, holding another close to shield them from the sudden, blistering cold. Small banter about how out of date their clothes must be, the irony of traveling in heels! Carefully braiding or styling the others hair as though it’s so fragile AM will break it any moment. The gentle cusp on the cheek to ground the other.

Also I am so sorry for the sudden ask the idea came upon me and it must be shared

ONE. don't worry we don't either she is literally a HOLOGRAM in the game but ogugh it burns it burns it burns RIPS OFF MY FACE

it hurts because their affection has MEANING. something that had become something much more negative than positive within the gut of the machine. even if subtle , sporadic or desperate. even FUTILE attempts at what's left of the concept of love, it means something. it has value. all the "services" and cycles of what i can only describe as unintentional self harm.

to have something like that grow within an environment like this is. GHHHHGGGG disassociate into the void thinking about them.

also last thign i remember manya was the daughter of a militant and moved on to MARRY a militant ( ... in the game ) which could be something interesting if you squint idk

[obwjam]

Ok ok- hear me out, ghostbusters g/t.

Now I’m talking og 1980s, none of the remake bs. (afterlife wasn’t terrible)

Ray Stanz - Ray is the heart of the Ghostbusters team and has a genuine love for the supernatural and unexplained. When he saw the tiny person in danger, he would immediately go into protector mode. Ray would be empathetic and comforting, doing everything in his power to rescue and ensure the well-being of the tiny person. He’d definitely be the one to eagerly try to shield them in his palms against his chest.

Egon Spengler - Egon is the brains of the group, and his analytical mind would kick into high gear. He'd carefully assess the situation, looking for the most efficient and logical way to rescue the tiny person. His calm and calculated demeanor would be reassuring to both the tiny person and the rest of the team. The tiny would later become his little lab assistant.

Winston Zeddemore - Winston, the grounded and practical member of the team, would focus on the immediate needs of the tiny person. He would provide physical assistance and ensure the tiny person's safety, whether that meant battling a ghostly threat or finding a way to transport them to safety. Winston's strong sense of duty and compassion would shine through.

Peter Venkman - Peter, known for his sarcasm and quick wit, might make a humorous comment or two upon first seeing the tiny person. A short joke here and there, However, underneath his wisecracking exterior, he cares deeply for people in distress. He would take charge of the situation, ensuring the tiny person's safety while using his charm and charisma to keep everyone calm including comforting the tiny.

BONUS

Louis Tulley - Louis is known for his quirky and often anxious personality. If he stumbled upon a tiny person in distress, he might initially react with a mix of surprise and nervousness. However, deep down, he has a good heart and would want to help. Louis might attempt to shield the tiny person from harm, frantically looking for a way to protect them or enlist the aid of the Ghostbusters. His comedic reactions could provide some moments of levity amidst the tension.

Janine Melnitz - Janine is the Ghostbusters' efficient and no-nonsense secretary. She's used to dealing with the paranormal but not necessarily with tiny people. Her initial reaction might be one of curiosity and concern. She would swiftly take charge of the situation, calling the Ghostbusters into action and coordinating their efforts. Janine's practical and organized nature would ensure that the tiny person receives prompt assistance.

Dana Barrett - Dana has had her fair share of supernatural encounters, especially with the demon Zuul. If she found a tiny person in danger, she would likely remain calm and composed, drawing from her experiences. Dana would immediately work to shield the tiny person from any potential threats and provide reassurance. Her resourcefulness and determination would come into play as she collaborates with the Ghostbusters to ensure the tiny person's safety.

!!!!!! OMG OMG OMG THANK YOU FOR THIS i love ghostbusters so much LOL i had like a mini personal fandom revival when afterlife came out and the g/t thoughts were thunk. omg. i’m a slut for nerdy characters with round glasses so egon was always my BOY (rip harold 💔) he would be so sweet with a tiny. after overcoming his fascination of a borrower and skepticism of tiny people being just as smart, he would be so delighted to have them around to help and to infodump to them to teach them everything he knows ❤️ and their sassy side comes out when they hang out with peter UGH they would all be so soft

[primordialchoice]

💔 talk about crowley B)

Brewing

"Many eons ago, I thought I'd understood what love was all about. It was simple and straightforward in the subtlest way. It didn't sweep me off my feet like most romance novels have portrayed love to do because my fall was steady and gentle. It was like sand pouring through an hourglass, each minute and hour and day I spent with him fascinated me! If I was with him, then it didn't matter that I was out in the barren desert outside of the garden because he felt like Eden to me.

"When he left, I felt my lungs and heart get ripped out of my body. I was so stunned that I had begun to tremble! I felt... cold. So cold in fact that it didn't matter that it had been a warm summer night on Earth because I was freezing from the inside out.

"Have you ever felt such an acute ache in your chest when you think about someone? The type that makes you clutch your chest and twists your face in pain because the sudden pressure pinches your heart mercilessly...?

"I used to feel that a lot before I'd seen him in Golgota. I felt numb for the majority of the centuries that came after... now I'm just angry.

"It's unfair to leave me with so much ache and without even a single HINT of goodbye from his side prior to his departure! He seemed quite happy with me! Proud too! I was stepping up to be his equal; I worked SO HARD to be worthy of him and not just live my life as a vulnerable body he would constantly need to shield. Do you know what he said on the night he left? That he would be with me forever. Psh-hah! Oddly enough, he had delivered! I just didn't think I'd be forever RESENTING him for the confusion and betrayal he's put me through!"

If only she knew the truth.

[deafarcher]

🍼🌷👻💀💘💔🐕‍🦺

(The broken heart is for an ex that Clint still loves)

🍼 - A Child (Theirs or Not) Natasha and I sort of wanted kids but we weren't exactly actively looking to be parents, especially after SHIELD fell, but sort of friends of ours, who got killed standing up to HYDRA, left behind a child, Hope. For some reason, they named us as the child's guardians in case of their deaths and so we ended up adopting her. People are surprised to find out she's adopted, as if Nat's the only person in the world with red hair.

🌷 - Their Mother My mom was a wonderful person in spite of the horrors of living with my dad. She died when I was young, I don't remember her very well at all, unfortunately.

👻  - Someone They Don’t See Often Tony Stark. He really lets his ego blind him to the fact that he's usually the smartest person in the room, therefore he needs to actually explain his thoughts more than he does and that we will still be able to understand him.

💀 - Someone Deceased Can I say someone who almost died? Cause Phil's a very important person in my life, I want to talk about the man who became like a father figure to me and gave me a second chance at life for like two seconds. He was my closest friend before Nat came into my life and I still feel very guilty about him almost dying on the helicarrier.

💘 - A Love Interest Ah, Bucky. I had a crush on him from the day I first saw a picture of him in my history textbook. I actually ripped the page out of it to hang it over my bed, much to my brother's amusement. And then he turned out to still be alive. Natasha on the other hand, I didn't love romantically until after I'd gotten to really know her. It wasn't love at first sight with her.

💔 - An Ex I still love Bobbi. Maybe if we had gotten together under different circumstances, we would still be together. I still love her, and if she wanted to get back together...well, if Nat weren't in the picture, I would probably say yes.

🐶 - A Pet Lucky is the best dog in the world, possibly in the entire universe. You can quote me on that.

[leraneacide]

RIP OMEGLE

💔

The ongoing project "you're watching two strangers" is officially over.

“Of all tyrannies, a tyranny sincerely exercised for the good of its victims may be the most oppressive. It would be better to live under robber barons than under omnipotent moral busybodies. The robber baron's cruelty may sometimes sleep, his cupidity may at some point be satiated; but those who torment us for our own good will torment us without end for they do so with the approval of their own conscience.” — C.S. Lewis

“In the beginning the Universe was created. This has made a lot of people very angry and been widely regarded as a bad move.” — Douglas Adams

Dear strangers,

From the moment I discovered the Internet at a young age, it has been a magical place to me. Growing up in a small town, relatively isolated from the larger world, it was a revelation how much more there was to discover – how many interesting people and ideas the world had to offer.

As a young teenager, I couldn’t just waltz onto a college campus and tell a student: “Let’s debate moral philosophy!” I couldn’t walk up to a professor and say: “Tell me something interesting about microeconomics!” But online, I was able to meet those people, and have those conversations. I was also an avid Wikipedia editor; I contributed to open source software projects; and I often helped answer computer programming questions posed by people many years older than me.

In short, the Internet opened the door to a much larger, more diverse, and more vibrant world than I would have otherwise been able to experience; and enabled me to be an active participant in, and contributor to, that world. All of this helped me to learn, and to grow into a more well-rounded person.

Moreover, as a survivor of childhood rape, I was acutely aware that any time I interacted with someone in the physical world, I was risking my physical body. The Internet gave me a refuge from that fear. I was under no illusion that only good people used the Internet; but I knew that, if I said “no” to someone online, they couldn’t physically reach through the screen and hold a weapon to my head, or worse. I saw the miles of copper wires and fiber-optic cables between me and other people as a kind of shield – one that empowered me to be less isolated than my trauma and fear would have otherwise allowed.

I launched Omegle when I was 18 years old, and still living with my parents. It was meant to build on the things I loved about the Internet, while introducing a form of social spontaneity that I felt didn’t exist elsewhere. If the Internet is a manifestation of the “global village”, Omegle was meant to be a way of strolling down a street in that village, striking up conversations with the people you ran into along the way.

The premise was rather straightforward: when you used Omegle, it would randomly place you in a chat with someone else. These chats could be as long or as short as you chose. If you didn’t want to talk to a particular person, for whatever reason, you could simply end the chat and – if desired – move onto another chat with someone else. It was the idea of “meeting new people” distilled down to almost its platonic ideal.

Building on what I saw as the intrinsic safety benefits of the Internet, users were anonymous to each other by default. This made chats more self-contained, and made it less likely that a malicious person would be able to track someone else down off-site after their chat ended.

I didn’t really know what to expect when I launched Omegle. Would anyone even care about some Web site that an 18 year old kid made in his bedroom in his parents’ house in Vermont, with no marketing budget? But it became popular almost instantly after launch, and grew organically from there, reaching millions of daily users. I believe this had something to do with meeting new people being a basic human need, and with Omegle being among the best ways to fulfill that need. As the saying goes: “If you build a better mousetrap, the world will beat a path to your door.”

Over the years, people have used Omegle to explore foreign cultures; to get advice about their lives from impartial third parties; and to help alleviate feelings of loneliness and isolation. I’ve even heard stories of soulmates meeting on Omegle, and getting married. Those are only some of the highlights.

Unfortunately, there are also lowlights. Virtually every tool can be used for good or for evil, and that is especially true of communication tools, due to their innate flexibility. The telephone can be used to wish your grandmother “happy birthday”, but it can also be used to call in a bomb threat. There can be no honest accounting of Omegle without acknowledging that some people misused it, including to commit unspeakably heinous crimes.

I believe in a responsibility to be a “good Samaritan”, and to implement reasonable measures to fight crime and other misuse. That is exactly what Omegle did. In addition to the basic safety feature of anonymity, there was a great deal of moderation behind the scenes, including state-of-the-art AI operating in concert with a wonderful team of human moderators. Omegle punched above its weight in content moderation, and I’m proud of what we accomplished.

Omegle’s moderation even had a positive impact beyond the site. Omegle worked with law enforcement agencies, and the National Center for Missing and Exploited Children, to help put evildoers in prison where they belong. There are “people” rotting behind bars right now thanks in part to evidence that Omegle proactively collected against them, and tipped the authorities off to.

All that said, the fight against crime isn’t one that can ever truly be won. It’s a never-ending battle that must be fought and re-fought every day; and even if you do the very best job it is possible for you to do, you may make a sizable dent, but you won’t “win” in any absolute sense of that word. That’s heartbreaking, but it’s also a basic lesson of criminology, and one that I think the vast majority of people understand on some level. Even superheroes, the fictional characters that our culture imbues with special powers as a form of wish fulfillment in the fight against crime, don’t succeed at eliminating crime altogether.

In recent years, it seems like the whole world has become more ornery. Maybe that has something to do with the pandemic, or with political disagreements. Whatever the reason, people have become faster to attack, and slower to recognize each other’s shared humanity. One aspect of this has been a constant barrage of attacks on communication services, Omegle included, based on the behavior of a malicious subset of users.

To an extent, it is reasonable to question the policies and practices of any place where crime has occurred. I have always welcomed constructive feedback; and indeed, Omegle implemented a number of improvements based on such feedback over the years. However, the recent attacks have felt anything but constructive. The only way to please these people is to stop offering the service. Sometimes they say so, explicitly and avowedly; other times, it can be inferred from their act of setting standards that are not humanly achievable. Either way, the net result is the same.

Omegle is the direct target of these attacks, but their ultimate victim is you: all of you out there who have used, or would have used, Omegle to improve your lives, and the lives of others. When they say Omegle shouldn’t exist, they are really saying that you shouldn’t be allowed to use it; that you shouldn’t be allowed to meet random new people online. That idea is anathema to the ideals I cherish – specifically, to the bedrock principle of a free society that, when restrictions are imposed to prevent crime, the burden of those restrictions must not be targeted at innocent victims or potential victims of crime.

Consider the idea that society ought to force women to dress modestly in order to prevent rape. One counter-argument is that rapists don’t really target women based on their clothing; but a more powerful counter-argument is that, irrespective of what rapists do, women’s rights should remain intact. If society robs women of their rights to bodily autonomy and self-expression based on the actions of rapists – even if it does so with the best intentions in the world – then society is practically doing the work of rapists for them.

Fear can be a valuable tool, guiding us away from danger. However, fear can also be a mental cage that keeps us from all of the things that make life worth living. Individuals and families must be allowed to strike the right balance for themselves, based on their own unique circumstances and needs. A world of mandatory fear is a world ruled by fear – a dark place indeed.

I’ve done my best to weather the attacks, with the interests of Omegle’s users – and the broader principle – in mind. If something as simple as meeting random new people is forbidden, what’s next? That is far and away removed from anything that could be considered a reasonable compromise of the principle I outlined. Analogies are a limited tool, but a physical-world analogy might be shutting down Central Park because crime occurs there – or perhaps more provocatively, destroying the universe because it contains evil. A healthy, free society cannot endure when we are collectively afraid of each other to this extent.

Unfortunately, what is right doesn’t always prevail. As much as I wish circumstances were different, the stress and expense of this fight – coupled with the existing stress and expense of operating Omegle, and fighting its misuse – are simply too much. Operating Omegle is no longer sustainable, financially nor psychologically. Frankly, I don’t want to have a heart attack in my 30s.

The battle for Omegle has been lost, but the war against the Internet rages on. Virtually every online communication service has been subject to the same kinds of attack as Omegle; and while some of them are much larger companies with much greater resources, they all have their breaking point somewhere. I worry that, unless the tide turns soon, the Internet I fell in love with may cease to exist, and in its place, we will have something closer to a souped-up version of TV – focused largely on passive consumption, with much less opportunity for active participation and genuine human connection. If that sounds like a bad idea to you, please consider donating to the Electronic Frontier Foundation, an organization that fights for your rights online.

From the bottom of my heart, thank you to everyone who used Omegle for positive purposes, and to everyone who contributed to the site’s success in any way. I’m so sorry I couldn’t keep fighting for you.

I thank A.M. for opening my eyes to the human cost of Omegle.

Sincerely, Leif K-Brooks Founder, Omegle.com LLC

To contact Omegle, please visit here for more information.

[evolutionvintage]

Part 2/3: I’m so thankful Lisa was so brave and bold in sharing her gifts. I’ve always enjoyed her music. She spoke her truth. She was a no BS kind of person. Rightfully guarded but with her heart on her sleeve for all to see, criticize and judge. Fame and money do not shield anyone from the pain, loss and tragedy we all suffer in this life. I would argue that they magnify. them. She tried to find her way like we all do but every word, look, and step was scrutinized, often misconstrued and always exploited for someone else’s profit. We all have the luxury of being humbled and heartbroken in private. To suffer the loss of a child is something many of us cannot even fathom and even fewer have experienced. I could never imagine how this impacted her. 💔 She was also giving and philanthropic. She fought against the psychiatric drugging of children in schools and testified to Congress acting on behalf of The Citizens Commission for Human Rights. She formed The Presley Foundation (2007) and opened Presley Place Memphis and one in NOLA, a transitional housing facility for homeless families. She has tirelessly helped preserve her fathers legacy alongside her mother Priscilla for current and future generations of music lovers to enjoy and explore. By all accounts her biggest achievement and sources of joy were her 4 children - @rileykeough Ben, Harper and Finley. #lisamariepresley #lisapresley #RIP https://www.instagram.com/p/Cn0owyYLaUC/?igshid=NGJjMDIxMWI=

[lesbiradshaw]

bestie you can’t just say that you have a whole stevebucky wedding planned and then NOT tell us!!!!!

i’ll write it one day i swear … but for now just know it def involves bucky staging all of the music and sam being steve’s best man

[early20sfailingplenty]

All alone I break // upset!reader x Sinclairs // choose your own dynamic (platonic or romantic).

Summary: you're having a really bad day and none of the Sinclairs are around to comfort you. You wander the town, lonely and upset and tired, and just as you break, all alone in the middle of the main street, you're found and brought home emotionally and physically.

Got pissed off at my parents again for multiple reasons so wrote this to calm myself down. Hopefully it provides someone some comfort! I wrote this as a 'you're dating/are very close to all the Sinclairs' dynamic, but it could also be read as platonic; I've left it up to individual interpretation. Take what you need from this fic.🥺

AS ALWAYS, GENDER NEUTRAL READER, NO CODED LANGUAGE, Y/N AND "YOU" USED.

TW; canon typical darkness, murder, crying (reader), fic's built around being and feeling alone (you're having a bad day and want some cuddles/comfort but no one's around🥺😭💔), reader is morally just as bad as the Sinclairs (I can't see you being in Ambrose permanently and NOT having at least a grey morality), possessive language ("your Sinclairs"), irresponsible driving (Lester is on the phone with you while he drives) but nothing bad happens, swearing, mentions of alcohol, this could be read as containing toxic relationship elements, but just like always, I wrote this to be a genuine love and connection between you and the brothers so if it does come across to contain toxic elements, please know it was unintentional!!! It just occurred to me that it could come across that way so I'm mentioning it here.

Word count: 4, 097 (why can I never write a short thing, I😩)

The town was quiet and you knew not where anyone was. The last you had heard, Bo was in the garage working on his truck after some fucker had thrown a beer bottle at the headlight and subsequently broken it (and, oh, how Bo had ripped the man to shreds in retaliation), Vincent was in the basement turning said man into one of his latest art works (the location of which was to be in some barely used, dusty room because Vincent was a petty man when he wanted to be), and Lester was, well... you never really knew where Lester was.

That was the last you had heard.

But that had been hours ago.

The garage lights weren't on and there was no music blaring out from the main room which was used to maintain the illusion of a quaint, bustling town. There were no sounds to alert you of Bo's presence, and the metal grate just off the often walked curb only emitted darkness and silence. Bo wasn't there. You took comfort in the sight of his truck, thinking that that meant he was still in Ambrose, until you remembered that there were many other vehicles on the roads (to give the illusion of others living in the town) which he could have used as his transport.

The basement had been filled with nothing but thunderous silence; the engines switched off because the main part of Vincent's work (the wax application which always turned your stomach just a little) was done. The statue was there in the middle of the room, almost finished, but Vincent was nowhere to be seen. Neither was Jonesy for that matter, which led you to believe that Vincent, too, had left Ambrose. Both human and dog being absent typically meant a trip out.

And Lester was presumably safe and well somewhere else, far from Ambrose. His house was on the outskirts of the neighbouring town; too far a distance for you to walk by yourself at this time of night... if the others had left Ambrose, then you were better off staying. Ambrose could never be left unattended, lest its many many secrets be discovered by someone it shouldn't be.

As for you, you were walking the street which led into Ambrose off the curve from the washed out road which shielded the town from people who didn't know where to look through the foliage to find the path. The church was up ahead of you, its lights on but nobody home, the garage station was dark and silent, and behind you was the pet shop, but that was quiet, too. Nobody was around. It was just you.

Just you...

You had previously been searching quietly, checking every building which was unlocked (of which there weren't many; just enough to maintain the illusion even with the lack of visitors to the town this night) and carrying out your searches with curiosity and a need which was climbing quickly from the pit of your stomach, up, up your oesophagus to get lodged in your chest. It had wrapped around your heart and with each empty room and with each Sinclair nowhere to be seen, it constricted and made you feel breathless. You knew not where your Sinclairs were, and it only made your emotional needs all the heavier, the lump in your throat increasingly apparent.

With everywhere checked and none of the Sinclairs found, you resorted to phoning Lester as you stood between the church and the gas station, having completed a full circuit of the town just by following the roads.The twins hadn't been in the house, where you had started the search, so you were well and truly out of options. Where the hell were they? You were beginning to not only miss them with such a strong need to know where they were, if only to know that they were safe and okay and alive, but you were also beginning to worry. Had something happened to them? Lester picked up after the fifth ring. It wasn't terribly late in the evening but you wondered if perhaps you had disturbed him in something somehow.

"Hey, Y/N!"

Oh, his voice... it sounded heavenly to you, especially after the rough day you had had prior to this, and you gripped your phone tighter. You wanted to climb inside Lester's voice, to be safe within him. It was the first bit of company you had had for hours. His voice caused the lump in your throat and the need wrapped around your heart to tighten and you felt the telltale sting of tears in the backs of your eyes and in the back of your nose. You swallowed thickly, "Hi, Lester." You took the phone away from your ear so you could compose yourself, but it was too late. Lester knew you far too well, and he heard your tears in your voice.

"S'matter, sweetpea? Bo bein' mean t'ya again?" Lester's voice hardened somewhat as he realised that something was wrong, but his tone was soft. It was a duality only the Sinclairs could manage, to be cold yet so feeling at the same time.

You huffed a watery laugh, your eyes wet and your tear ducts heavy with that which hadn't fallen yet. "No... at least if Bo was being mean to me, I'd know where he was... I don't know where Vinny is, either. They weren't in the house when I was so I thought they were in the garage and basement respectively, but... they're not there and neither are you and I don't know where you all are and I'm alone and - " Talking to Lester had tipped you over the edge from which you had been clinging to all day. You had woken up not feeling good, and the day's inconveniences on top of your responsibilities, duties and your already bad mood had collectively gotten the best of you. Not having the Sinclairs with you had made everything that much worse - you had only wanted to know where they were because the knowledge of their existences alone comforted you - and a sob ripped from your throat so strongly that your body gave out and you dropped to your knees. Right there, alone in the middle of the dark street, did you begin to cry in earnest, your anguish and distress so loud that it almost drowned out the low, soothing shushing which Lester was doing as he tried to comfort you as best as he could from miles away.

"Y're all right', darlin'. We'll find 'em," Lester was startled by your tears and confused; why had you phoned him and not one of his brothers? But he was also touched to realise that he had been your first thought when you hadn't known what else to do. You needed him as much as you needed his brothers, and it only made Lester love you more than he already did. "S'okay, Y/N, y're okay." He continued to murmur sweet nothings to you, his tone soft. You missed the tinkling of metal on metal as Lester grabbed his truck keys, the noise of boots crunching on gravel. "Did ya' check the sugar mill, darlin'?"

Everything stopped for just a moment as your weary mind raced to catch up. "... The where?"

Lester chuckled quietly, though there was little funny about the situation. You wondered if it was a stress or a panic response, or even just an awkward way to fill the silence, but the thought left your mind as quickly as it occurred to you. You were just too tired to think; the world had pushed you too far today and you just wanted the Sinclairs. "M'brothers keep cars there from folks needin' fan-belts so they c'n strip 'em for parts." There was a muffled thud as Lester shut the truck door with the phone tucked between his ear and his shoulder, but you weren't paying much attention to anything other than Lester's voice, so you barely put the pieces together. He was coming for you.

"Is it in Ambrose?" Hope bloomed in your chest, as did the feeling of having overreacted and feeling silly, but you were in such a bad mood and so needy for the brothers that you barely cared. Bo would probably grumble, but even he couldn't find it in him to turn you down when you were in tears. If you were crying, it was somethin' serious and the brothers would walk through hell just to make you smile again. You would do the same for them in a heartbeat, so close were the three of you.

Lester didn't answer you directly. Truthfully, he wasn't sure if it was in Ambrose or just outside of the town, and he didn't much care, either. He had as little as possible to do with what went on in the family business and that was the way that it was going to stay. You were so much more important to him. "Where y'at, darlin'?"

You sniffled, your tears beginning to slow now, and on shaky legs did you stand. You didn't bother wiping them away, your eyes red-rimmed and sore but the tears continued to crash around you. "M' on the road where the church is. Gas station to my left and pet store just behind me. I checked everywhere but the sugar mill because I didn't even know - " Tears poured hot and heavy down your cheeks, but you were too worn down to do anything about it. You let them fall and your body once more followed until you found yourself on your knees again. You were physically and emotionally exhausted and you wanted the Sinclairs more than anything. You loved Lester, you did, but his voice just wasn't enough.

You needed more.

"Stay right there, sweetpea, don't you move." Lester's tone was reassuring but you knew that there was also a demand. He was a lot like his brothers and he didn't even bother to phrase it as a question. Lester was telling you to stay rooted to the spot, where you had told him you were. You normally did things out of spite, you did things you were told not to do... but when it was an emergency or when one of the brothers adopted a very specific tone - the one Lester had just used on you - it was a code which they had taught you. It told you to not defy them, to listen, and it was the one time, when there were no other options, you would do as you were told. It wasn't used often, only when it had to be, and it only made your worry for the brothers increase because Lester had never used it on you before. The twins had (Vincent's hand gestures had a particular feel, or vibe, to them when he was using it on you), but never Lester. It was times like this that you were forced to remember just how dark all of the brothers were. None of them were gentler than the others; they were all dark, dangerous, but you only loved them more for it. "I gotta hang up, darlin'. Jus' sit tight for me."

"No, Lester, please - "

The dial tone sounded before you could finish your sentence and you bowed your head, the phone tightly held in your grasp. You were so done with the day and your exhausting and emotional upheaval only made it even more so. It was obvious that Lester was on his way to you, for there was no other reason he would have told you to stay put, but what about the twins? Where were they? You looked up and around at the town, naming the 'shops' and places as you did as a way of distracting yourself and giving your mind something to do other than rip itself to shreds. You weren't to move from the spot, but even if Lester hadn't used that tone on you, you weren't sure that you would have moved. You only wanted to be picked up and cradled into someone's chest, so tired were you that you didn't even want to move. Gravel was biting into your skin and the sting of it kept you grounded in the moment, even as you cried all over again. Oh, but today had hurt you so much and you just wanted the world to go away so that you could spend time with the Sinclairs and just forget about everyone and everything except for them.

You didn't know how long you had been sat on the ground talking to Lester, but the sky had darkened from a bruised collection of purples and reds into a pitch black, punctuated only by stars long since dead. It was a quiet, tranquil evening, perfectly juxtaposed by the torment and anguish which had physically brought you to your knees, your shoulders bowed inwards as they shook with the weight of all that had been placed upon them. The Sinclairs were your reprieve from such cruelty in the world, but there was little they could do about the demons within.

Your phone rang and you jumped. A hand flew to your throat as you fumbled to pick up the call, your voice breathless and your need stronger than ever. "Hello?"

"M'sorry I had ta' hang up, sweetpea," You could almost picture Lester's mouth turning downwards as he shook his head, "Had ta' sort sumthin' out." He was being deliberately vague about something and a suspicion pinged in your mind but you didn't say anything about it. The only thing in your mind right now was getting what you wanted - the brothers. You just wanted the Sinclairs and, help you, but it only made you want to cry anew with every passing moment marked only by their absences. "M' comin', darlin', ain't far now."

You could hear his voice in the distance and you could just detect the rapid crunch on gravel and you smiled. You smiled for the first time all day and it made the ache in your chest and in Lester's ease somewhat to hear it in your voice as you said, "I hear you." You cut the call and looked around to see which direction he was coming from - a pointless endeavour because there was only one road which curved into Ambrose, but it kept you occupied for the few seconds it took Lester to stalk up the road to you.

When he spotted you illuminated by the street lights, he quickened his pace until he was almost at a jog and raised a hand by way of greeting. His happy smile dropped like a stone when he took in your tear-stained cheeks, your obviously sore eyes, your body language. "Oh, darlin'," Lester sighed, "That bad, huh?" Oh, but the sound of his voice... you stood on shaky, dead legs (numb were they from a lack of circulation due to your position on the floor) and threw yourself at Lester. He caught you, he caught you, and he held you tightly as his hands rubbed up and down your back in fluid, strong motions. "I got'cha, darlin', s'all righ'." You melted into him and Lester shifted his weight to accommodate you. "Y'seen 'em?"

"No," you sniffled and Lester pulled away to wipe your tears away with calloused, slightly dirty hands. He had washed up in the time since you had seen him last, but his truck was never cleaned and so it always rubbed off on him. "Only you. I checked everywhere apart from the mill. I didn't even think..." The rest of your sentence was drowned out by tyres screeching around a corner, gravel going flying and leaving a dust cloud as a bright yellow vehicle - Vincent's truck - came screaming up the road towards you and Lester. It barely came to a stop before both driver and passenger doors flew open and like a synchronised dance did Bo and Vincent climb out, slamming their doors shut in near perfect harmony - Vincent pausing to make sure Jonesy was secured in the backseat - as they rushed over to you and Lester.

"What the fuck happened, Y/N?" Bo got to you first as he grabbed you and pulled you into his body. Oh, but your tears fell anew for the third or fourth time - you had lost count of how many crying sessions you had had during the shittiest day you had had in a long time - and you clung to Bo, sobbing into his black shirt. He shushed you and you felt Vincent's grip on your waist, his wax mouth rested on the back of your head. You picked up a muffled 'mmf' noise from behind you as it vibrated against your body and your tried and tired mind registered it as a sound of worry and concern. You knew that his eye would be checking you over clinically to make sure that you weren't hurt, but when he ascertained that you were physically all right, his eye turned to Lester, demanding an explanation for your state. None of them had ever seen you this upset, this needy for them, and it was as confusing for them as it was for you. Clearly, this had been building within you for a long time and you had broken, first alone and worried, but now surrounded by love and protected. Safe.

"I - " You couldn't speak, your throat closed up with all the tears left to shed and just as many soaked into Bo's clothes, and Lester's dark eyes met your own, a look on his face so tender that it made your tears fall faster, and he understood what you were asking him to do. You couldn't speak, and you were asking him to do it for you. You trusted him with your words and emotions, you had come to him first so many times this night, and Lester only felt his heart break for you. He longed to take it away from you, to make it all better, but he couldn't, and neither could his brothers. They could only be there for you to help you ride it out, just as you did for the three of them when times called for it.

Vincent made another noise, this time one of impatience, and Bo sighed as he stepped back just enough for Vincent to come in, wrapping his arms around you and holding you tight. You melted into Vincent like the art medium he so favoured, your fingers in his hair (the tips crunchy with wax and the roots greasy, but that was a problem for tomorrow) and your face burrowed in his chest, and Bo stayed at your back, his chin resting on your shoulder with his head turned slightly as his beautiful blues eyed up Lester, still waiting. He would only ever ask once and if you couldn't give him and Vincent what they wanted, awkwardly sandwiched were you between the twins (and, oh, it was right where you had wanted to be ever since you had left the house this evening), then Lester would.

"I ain't never seen 'em like this. Phoned me up cryin' and sayin' they couldn't find ya', and it got worse the more I was speakin' to 'em. Di'nt know what ta' do 'cept come up here and ya' know I phoned ya' up after I finished on the phone with Y/N. Bad day, I s'pose. Real fuckin' bad day." Bo and Vincent both seemed to physically deflate with worry (neither of them had said it, but they had clearly broken more than a few traffic laws to get to you and Lester so their actions spoke louder than verbal words ever could) and they gripped you tighter. You looked up from Vincent's chest, trying to find Lester, and he smiled and stepped forward some more so that his upper arm was brushing against Bo's. "M'here, darlin'. We ain't leavin' ya'."

"Like hell," Bo growled, agreeing with Lester, "Get 'em in the truck, Vincent. An' you," He nodded at his youngest brother. "Goin' up to th' house. Can't stand out here all night." To you, Bo then said, "M'sorry, darlin'. We only stepped out to get some supplies an' I needed Vincent to help me load it up and carry shit in to the house. Didn't mean to scare ya'." Within that last sentence did you hear a promise to not do that to you again, to leave a note for you next time so that you didn't have to worry. They were more than capable of looking after themselves, you knew it well, but one stray bullet, one flick of a blade, and they could be lost to you forever. It was enough to make you want to cry even when you were in a good mood, this the brothers knew well. They worried for you as much as you worried for them, such was the immeasurable depths of emotion between the four of you.

Bo's apology made you freeze but you swiped a hand over your face. "No, I'm sorry, it's... been a horrible day and I've just had enough." You wanted to ask if they had gotten everything they need, but you knew that there was nothing in the world to stop the twins when they wanted something, truly so ruthless were they. They would have hurried through their supply run, but they wouldn't have stopped. You gestured vaguely towards the truck and went to walk off, but Vincent's grip became reminiscent of a boa constrictor and he shook his head at you. You understood and stayed still so that he could scoop you up effortlessly. He brought you into his chest and you wrapped your arms around his neck as he nuzzled his masked face into the side of your head as he carried you to the truck. Bo got into the driver's side and Lester climbed into the passenger seat, which meant that you and Vincent could sit quite comfortably tangled up together in the backseat.

It was a short journey, with the house only being two blocks away, but between Bo and Lester talking in the front seats, Vincent's lap being your wax throne upon, your general exhaustion, Jonesy's head under your hands as you found comfort in her soft fur and the safety and protection which had descended upon you like a thick, warm blanket with the arrival of the twins, you were quickly lulled to your threshold consciousness. You wanted to curl up on the sofa with your family and watch some crappy television and just forget the world and now, after a day in which everything could have gone wrong did go wrong, that was exactly what you were going to get.

When the truck pulled to a slow stop, you reluctantly slid off Vincent's lap, your back and lower body cold with the ghost of his touch (and how you ached to get back to where you wanted to be) and helped Bo to get everything in; between the four of you, the supplies were quickly off loaded and put away. You were jittery now, on edge and getting ready for bed was a process you rushed just so you could get what you wanted faster. Despite your anticipation, your body felt heavy and sluggish, but you were too tired to cry anymore and everything hurt. Bo had everything ready for you when you finally joined the brothers downstairs; there were beers on the table if you wanted to imbibe, snacks scattered around as if Bo had just grabbed them from the cupboards and thrown them over his shoulder into the living room (he had), blankets in a neat pile on one of the sofa arms, and all three brothers sat on the sofa, so closely that their shoulders were touching and Jonesy spread down at their feet.

You lowered yourself down onto the sofa with them, with your head in Bo's lap and your body stretched across Vincent's and Lester's, too, and your body took a naturally deep, deep breath. Finally, finally, you were home. You were all home, safe and sound and protected, and that was all that mattered. You had broken alone, but you would be supported and surrounded with love until you felt better. But even when you did, the Sinclairs would be there. They would always be, for Ambrose was your home and so were they.

None of you were goin' nowhere, and that was just how you all wanted it.

[shallowseeker]

Dean + "Everything we've ever wanted..."

Ah yes. Everything we’ve ever wanted. He means everything he—Dean’s ever wanted. Which is so telling. Like, wow. He was gonna say that out loud in one version of the script. A parent who loves him and—and a Cas.

Everything he ever wanted. 🫣 how long has he been wanting Cas in some capacity…like DAMN.

He’s doing the we—I thing again that Max and Alicia do but the sentiment is so sweet. This is why Sam is so in tune with what Dean needs to be happy and keep fighting in The Trap and why he reacts Like That to Chuck’s vision. It might have taken Sam a long time to get it, but I think he finally did on some level, even if he doesn’t label it or know what to make of it. He knows it’s significant.

This above script snippet is a version of All Along the Watchtower right before Jack was born btw. And right before Cas dies. Boy it makes it hurt more. Dean had so much hope starting out. He was even accepting letting Jack be born at full power because he decided to trust Cas.

—

In later seasons, he has mom, Cas, Jack the kid he never thought he’d get to have, by his own admission. Which means that Jack FEELS more like his kid than others in past which means he opened up in a terrible, TERRIBlE way. He thought he could have Jack. He thought he was allowed to keep Jack.

<find script referencing “I’d never thought I’d get that”>

He even fantasized about adding John to the family unit, but it was more for Mary. But in the end, he wouldn’t trade his current life, not even for her happiness. He looks so guilty when John gets ripped away from her. Dean specifically looks guilty. (There’s a parallel to his current life and great relationship with Sam and Mary, sure, but the narrative parallel is more directly tied to the “angel and the devil’s kid” that he lives with. And it’s Dean who insists, “I have a family.” In that Telling Way. It’s very wow, like on the nose wow, even for the GA.) John disappears and immediately Cas walks through the bunker door. And Cas sort of visually and narratively does have John’s role as familial protector/shield here, but it’s off-center. Not tied to Mary. 👀

And later, like in Game Night? He has Mom, Cas, and Jack (and duh—Sammy) but he starts the episode in a terrible state because Cas is out doing good knows what and he can sense when Cas is being cagey and it stresses him. Mary and Jack lament that “this was supposed to relax him.” They’re trying to do the typical Sammy playbook and give him “treats” so he turns into “happy Dean.”

Then it all comes crashing down again. He goes from hopelessly worried about Jack—“he’s safe with her,” as in he was worried about Nick getting to Jack but Mary will protect him:

…And you know the rest.

He loses Mary, and in his mind he loses Jack at the same time. “That’s not Jack anymore.” He completely dissociates His Jack from That Jack. And Jack and Cas are dead to him because his family, that makeshift family that’s all he ever wanted—is decimated. The other shoe dropped. He’s not just grieving Mary in That Scene. He’s grieving Jack. He’s grieving his perfect everything-he-ever-wanted.

He should’ve known better than—angels. All his instincts warned him about angels and Donatello and—lions—and—it’s not the snake it’s the bite—and all his instincts have been screaming at him about Cas since forever—but he still made them his family anyway. He knew better he knew better he knew better than to…

He chose the wrong man—not a man but a soulless too-powerful angel—and the wrong kid—not a kid but a little monster. It was too good to be true—of course it was too good to be true—and it’s his fault he’s so stupid he knew better …

But he couldn’t help it 💔

And THEN in the last season he knows better but they’re back with them and he knows better

He’s doing it all over again he’s loving them he can’t help it

He can’t help but not cut Cas out because he desperately needs Cas

But no not Jack—keep Jack at arm’s length—too painful—too dangerous. And he’s gonna save the world and maybe die anyway so it’s better to disengage sooner because he is not gonna get to keep Jack and never was. They need to kill Chuck for what he did to ruin them they’re already ruined it’ll never be the same so—so …

Disengage

Disengage … Jack is not family that’s too painful

He won’t fall for it again he knows better

And yet in such a relatively short time, Dean is repairing his family in the midst of a family murder and the death of a child and his own attempted filicide — all incredible traumas on their own — Chuck must have been so pissed.

If only Lebanon had included a snide, taunting-ish warning from John and the dangers of living with said angel and the devil’s kid, Dean could have been more thoroughly mentally tortured. Chuck missed out on writing that line.

[pseudofaux]

Hello there my fellow human! Thank you for opening requests. I was wondering (only if you felt inspired) could you do a drabble of Theo (or Papi da Vinci) reacting to their MC dying in their arms. Love me some angst. Thank you again and please don’t feel pressured to write this❤️

😥💔

Here we go. 🤧 With… Leo. I feel AWFUL. 😫 I tried to keep this vague enough to allow for her dying at the end of a long life or when she is still young. This dips into some pain, rage, alcoholism, and significant depression (including a brief allusion to suicidal ideation) on Leonardo’s part, so if that sounds like a combo you should avoid, dear reader, please do.

(Requests are closed, but I have lots to write and post in July! Feel free to follow along or just check in to see what’s posted. A masterlist will go up when I’m finished.)

“Time heals all hurts.”

Bullshit.

A hurt can be healed. A destruction, made of a hundred thousand hurts, is irreversible.

Sudden pain is violent, and you have no way to protect yourself beyond your own reflexes. If by the damned virtue of your birth you have extremely good reflexes, nothing can get you very deep anyway. That’s one of nature’s few favors to a vampire.

But a gradually-growing pain eases you into its ache, even eases you into a relief that nothing seems ruined for so many mornings in a row, soft sunshine on a lover’s hair tumbling over a pillow for another day, another. Until the morning after the worst day of your life, when you wake up to gray light on an empty pillow, apologetically soft as though that will change a damn thing or give her back. And that is when you realize, finally, that something has been pulled out of you so slowly over time you didn’t notice, and now it is completely out. Through a hole in your chest. That’s why it hurts there. That’s why every food and every smoke tastes like ash. That’s why you go from long stillness to moments when you shake uncontrollably and want nothing more than to drink yourself into oblivion. Anything method of getting to oblivion will do, honestly. Powder, liquid. Rope.

If you are a vampire and you love a little star-bright human, that soft, useless gray is what you sign yourself up for. That is what love gets you when a star burns up all her fire:

The woman who has touched your hands and face every day that you have been alive together, unable at the end to even lift her arm. The flashing, smiling, moving eyes of that woman gone dull and still as a filed face of glass. Vacancy. Terrible, terrible vacancy and loneliness. Her body is there, you’re holding it because you’re supposed to be able to use yourself to shield her from this, and her limbs cool in your grasp in a grotesque mimicry of what bodies do after lovemaking. There’s no pulse to follow, there’s… nothing. She’s gone, and there you are, and you have no luck but perhaps if nature gives you one favor more it’s a friend to gently see you home and withstand your first terrible fury at the world.

You never thought to start a family because you were scared of being without her, and now you have no family and you are without her. There is no way to get her back or touch any piece of her, and you are a miserable and stupid fucking fool, all on your own.

When she died in my arms, I died, too. But here I am, and here she’s not. That pain is sudden, sharp, and unending. It doesn’t fade, I cannot accustom myself to it. My bed feels like it is made all of rusty nails and I can’t sleep for fear her scent will finally be gone from the pillow when I wake up.

Instead I sit in a space where she once sat with me on the floor of my room and I stare at that bed and I hate it, but I cannot destroy it. I make failed attempt after failed attempt to sketch her face only to snap my sticks and rip my papers when it becomes clear, every time, that I cannot put my memory of her out for anyone else to see. She won’t be known by anyone new. The cruelty of it is unbearable. And here I am. Bearing it.

Because a hurt is different than a destruction. Ask Leonardo how he knows. But you’d better bring strong wine; I don’t talk when I have to feel how far she’s gone.

[lizajane3]

“If he was wrong about you, then he was wrong about me”. My heart still hurts just from the expression alone. 💔💔 

And fucking John Walker. You know at the beginning of this episode I was like he might not be that bad but then he has the audacity to call Steve a brother because he observed him closely. Then near the end said, “Stay the hell out of my way”. Sit your star-spangled, Captain America wannabe ass down. Under the impression he can take on Bucky and Sam. Bitch please, I’d love to see you fucking try. They’d rip that shield from your tiny hands so fast...