#we just literally never talk. i have never had a proper conversation with him because we can't. do that

[trlvsn]

"just me and my weird ass relationship with my dad against the world" i say as i look into the mirror and see a carbon copy of my dad

[alinathinkstoomuch]

ONE RULE AT A TIME

pairing: aaron hotchner x lawyer!reader summary: you and hotch have barely had any alone time—and he just can’t wait (no, like literally, he cannot wait) to get his hands on you, based on this request. warnings: smut 18+ MDNI, oh boy here we go... semi-public p in v sex, public fingering, public orgasm, slight corruption & free use kinks, extraaa horny hotch, slight d/s undertones, r has to sit through dinner with come in her underwear (yay!!), established relationship. word count: 3.8k (lol)

✧ masterlist | ✧ alina's 1k bar

You considered it rude to leave the table mid-conversation.

It was one of those rules, leftover from a mother who believed proper manners could carry a girl further than ambition. Elbows off the table. Napkin in your lap. Don’t interrupt. Don’t leave before dessert.

Of course, those rules technically didn’t apply here. Not with this group. These weren’t stiff-lipped dinner guests or white-gloved patrons of a country club. These were your friends. Or, more accurately, your colleagues—though you only ever called them that when you needed distance.

Still, the habit lingered. Your spine straightened every time someone new spoke, you nodded politely, you laughed at all the right cues. But it was getting increasingly harder to feign interest in anything anyone was saying, not with how close Aaron was sitting next to you.

It was criminal, really, how little time you’d had alone with him lately. Between your caseload, his travel schedule, and the world’s general refusal to accommodate a few uninterrupted minutes, tonight had been the first time in weeks you’d managed to make it into the same photograph. 

Unfortunately, the night you could both conjure up happened to involve other people. Talkative, never-quite-leaving people.

And you were trying your hardest to remain composed, executing your best poker-face saved for the courtroom to keep your thoughts and facial expressions appropriate. But then you felt Aaron’s hand brush your thigh under the table, and you forgot what someone was saying about….something. 

You didn’t look at him right away, you knew better. Instead, you set your fork down and reached for your wine glass, agreeing to God knows what conversation was happening. The question could’ve been ‘Have you ever committed perjury?’ and there you were, nodding along because the man you couldn’t wait to get alone was currently trying to initiate foreplay at the dinner table. 

His hand never paused, fingers tracing idle shapes above your knee, leaving a trail of goosebumps in their wake like breadcrumbs to your undoing. The room began to feel violently hot, and unfortunately there didn’t seem to be enough air for everyone to share. You reached for a cream napkin, blotting your mouth but also using it as a barrier from everyone else.

This wasn’t you. You had rules, standards, a personal code built on discretion, discipline, and never fooling around in public with a man who could get you to confess to crimes with just his fingers. You turned towards him, napkin still raised.

“Aaron,” you warned. “Stop that.”

He did just the opposite, his fingers pressing down a little harder now. 

You had never been the kind of woman to lose her head. You didn’t do public groping during candlelit dinner while someone ranted about office politics. You followed your rules. You were judicious, you were composed, you were the kind of person who scheduled spontaneity. 

And yet, here you were, pressing your thighs together under the table while Aaron Hotchner slowly pushed every moral you’d ever held into a shredder with one hand and a neutral expression. 

You turned to him again. “I’m serious. You need to stop.”

The bastard had the gall to tilt his head and furrow his brows like he couldn’t possibly imagine what you meant.

“I mean it. Quit that,” you chided, setting your napkin down. 

And his hand did move. He lifted it from your thigh and returned it to his side of the table. You exhaled—relief, technically—but it came threaded with something that felt suspiciously like disappointment.

Because yes, this was about professionalism, about decency, about not letting the I-haven’t-seen-you-in-too-long hormones reduce you both to a cautionary tale in public misconduct. Still…you couldn’t help but mourn the loss of that spark he had managed to light in a place it had no business burning. 

Though you didn’t have time to dwell or dissect your traitorous feelings before Aaron was abruptly standing and pulling your chair back for you, mumbling a curt, “Excuse us,” to the table. 

You looked around, mouth wide as your legs brought you up. “I’m so sorry,” you said, passing a look to everyone at the table who didn’t look the least bit fazed. “Back in a sec.”

Aaron’s hand found your wrist, his misbehaving fingers curling around yours as he started pulling you towards the back of the bar. You were so flustered your legs could barely keep up, tripping over themselves every second step like they were also struggling to process what was happening. 

“Where are we going?” you hissed, stumbling slightly as he rounded a corner. “You can’t just pull us away from dinner mid-conversation. What’s gotten into you today?”

“You looked a little hot,” he muttered, glancing back as he steered you past the bathrooms and down a corridor that was definitely for staff only. 

“Because you couldn’t keep your hands to yourself!”

He continued weaving through the turns and bends until you reached a narrow staircase that looked like it was in dire need of a health inspection.

“Think it’s this way,” he mumbled to himself, and all you could do was follow as he all but dragged you up the least stable stairs your feet had ever stood on.

“You are insane. We shouldn’t even be up here. You’re going to get us banned and I come here for drinks more often than I go home for dinner.”

“You come here to network,” he corrected.

You glared at the back of his head, noting his deliciously broad shoulders under the navy suit jacket he was wearing. “That’s what I said. Which is all the more reason we shouldn’t be on anything that’s not the ground floor.”

You reached the top of the stairs, and Aaron let go of your hand to use both of his to open up the fire exit door planted at the end of the stairwell. It opened with a creak of protest before you felt a gush of cold air greet you. 

“What is your pla—” You didn’t get the chance to finish before Aaron was manhandling you again, hungry hands ruching up your dress as they groped all they could reach.

“Aaron, we can’t do this here,” you breathed, head tilting up to the sky, the stars above shining down like innocent witnesses to your wildly inappropriate, excessively horny boyfriend. 

“Missed you.” He nipped your neck, nose brushing the pendant that rested on your collarbone. “So much.”

“I missed you too, fuck, but we can’t possibly do this here. Let’s just—wait until we get home.”

He grabbed your hand, bringing it down to his crotch. “Does this feel like it can wait?”

You should’ve pulled your hand back, should’ve ignored the feeling between your legs, but your immediate response was to curl your fingers around him. “This is so inappropriate.”

“I know.” His mouth was on your neck again and you felt him nudge and grind into your hand, then into your thigh, the hard press of his cock knocking all your sensible principles loose one by one. “You smell so fucking good.”

“You’re not listening,” you tried, weakly, because that’s what you were supposed to say. “I’m trying to be rational.”

“And I’m trying to make you feel good.” He grinned into your skin. “Guess we’re both busy.”

You made contact with the brick wall, just as Aaron pushed you up against it, hand dipping beneath your dress.

“We’ll get caught.”

He kissed your jaw. “No one comes up here.”

“We could get arrested.”

Another kiss. “I’d make sure you didn’t.”

“Oh, that’s reassuring,” you muttered, but your voice dropped when his thumb pressed down onto your clothed clit.

“If you really want me to stop, say the word.” The word. Your safe word. Not that you’d ever had to use it before, because Aaron had never decided to pounce on you on a restaurant rooftop like the idea of waiting for a cab repulsed him. 

You said nothing.

Little protests had left your lips when his hand landed on your thigh, but now that you had the chance to actually make all of this stop, you didn’t. You couldn’t. And you knew it was wrong. So deeply wrong and anyone could walk in, and there could be cameras and—

“Turn around,” he instructed, taking half a step back to slip off his jacket, his white shirt almost glowing in the dark. 

“What?”

“Against the wall.” 

He was already guiding your hips, manoeuvring you to spin your back to him. Your palms braced the scratchy brick wall, the one you were about to get very well acquainted with if you were to let Aaron have his way with you. Which, let’s be honest, has happened since the moment you walked into this place.

“What if someone comes up?” you asked quietly, pausing when you heard the buckle of his belt come undone, like that sound was your final chance to put a stop to all of this.

His response came in the form of hoisting your dress up, his chest keeping your back warm. “Can feel the heat through your thighs.”

Your breathing was already ragged and he hadn't actually touched you yet, not properly. You hated how easy it was for him to reduce you to this. 

“You ready?” he murmured, fingers finding the waistband of your underwear. 

You nodded, barely.

“Use your words.”

“…Yes.”

You folded into the wall, forehead grazing stone as he slipped your panties halfway down your legs. One of his hands rested on your hip, while the other gripped his cock, and you could feel the motion of him pumping himself a few times before his tip nudged between your thighs, thick and wet. 

Normally, he would tease, drag it through your pussy, because he knew you loved hearing the lewd sounds of how wet the both of you were. Loved the feeling of his veins burning your clit. But tonight, he just pushed in, the stretch knocking the breath from your lungs. 

It had been over 2 months since you'd felt him. 73 days, if you wanted to be exact. And somehow, he felt bigger than you remembered.

“Christ,” he groaned, forehead resting on your shoulder as he sank deeper. “You feel so fucking good. Tightest you’ve ever been.”

He pulled out just to slam back in.

“Can’t believe I waited this long. Should’ve had you like this the second we got in the car.”

You let out a half-laugh, half-moan, your body jerking with the next thrust. “I would’ve killed you.”

“Look at you, you’ve been fighting me all night just to end up like this.”

And he was right, which annoyingly, was the case with him nine times out of ten. You fought him because that’s what you’d taught yourself to do. Fight everyone in some form or another, directly or indirectly. It wasn’t even a conscious decision you made anymore, just part of your operating system. 

But then came Aaron. 

He was someone who didn’t hold back, who didn’t let you win arguments just to keep the peace. He pushed you, gently of course, and you could tell he took some smug satisfaction in challenging you when he knew you were wrong (a rarity). You hated it at first, the feeling of being matched, but also of being completely understood. It made you feel exposed, like he’d see your true colours and run. But instead, he was fucking you against a brick wall while your friends laughed over drinks downstairs. 

Your fingers scraped the brick and your knees buckled when his hand slid between your thighs again. “Aaron—”

“Oh, you’re close. You’re gonna come just like this, aren’t you?”

“I swear to God—”

“Right here?” he asked, his fingers dragging slow circles. “Where anyone could walk up and see how good I’m making you feel?”

The noise you made was inaudible. A whimper, a moan, a curse all jammed into one.

“Thought you had rules,” he mocked. “Thought you didn’t do things like this.”

“I don’t.”

“No?” He pinched your clit, and you pressed your forehead harder into the wall, teeth clenched, your thighs squeezing around his arm, like you could trap him there or stop him—you weren’t sure anymore.

Every part of your body felt like it was on fire, the breeze of the night doing you zero favours. You were close, so close, and there was nothing left to give him. You couldn’t match his pace nor his efforts, all you could do was stand there and take it. 

The moment his fingers quickened and his strokes pushed deeper,  your hand flew over your mouth, muffling a moan, then another. And before you knew it a cry was spilling into your palm as you came, toes curling in your heels, your entire body going rigid.

“Aaron,” you cried out, feeling both of his hands move to your hips, holding you in place. 

“I know, honey,” he panted. “Almost there.” 

He kept going, hips rutting in you as he chased the high you were still coming down from. Your cheek was pressed to the brick now, one heel slipping as your body fought to recover while he kept moving. 

“Just a little more. You can take it.” 

And you did, until his thrusts slowed, a series of curses lacing into your hair as he pushed himself flush against you. You felt him twitch and spill inside, his thumb tracing soft circles into your hip like a silent thank you.

He waited a minute, maybe less, before he was pulling out of you. Your brain scrambled to organise the next steps, cleaning up screaming the loudest, right before you felt Aaron’s calloused hands around your thighs, tugging your underwear back into place. 

“What are you doing?” you managed, looking down as he adjusted the fabric for you.

“You’re wearing them,” he said, smoothing your dress back down over your hips. “Just like this.” 

You spun to face him, watching as he fussed with his belt. “This is obscene, Aaron. I’m going to the bathroom to clean up and then I’m going home.”

“Don’t be dramatic. You’ve already made it this far and you know it’s rude to leave early.”

"You expect me to just go back out there like this?" 

He slipped his jacket on and then leaned down to press a kiss to your lips. "I expect you to sit there, make conversation, and pretend you're not still full of me."

Your mouth fell open. If your mother had been there, she’d have told you to close it before a fly flew in.

Aaron smiled gently, snaking a hand around the small of your back. “You’ll be fine.”

You had no choice but to move, one foot in front of the other as Aaron held the bulky rooftop door open for you. You took the stairs down far slower than you went up them, wincing with every step. You could feel exactly what he’d left inside you beginning to leak, trickling slowly from the cotton of your panties and down the inside of your thigh. 

Once you made it to the bottom you paused, glancing over your shoulder just as he reached you. “Head up, honey,” Aaron cooed. “You’re still the most put-together one at the table.”

You rolled your eyes but straightened up anyway because you’d be damned if your posture had to suffer.

Everyone looked like they hadn’t moved an inch back at the table, and Aaron, ever the gentleman, pulled your seat back. You did your best to sit in it as graciously as you could, trying to keep everything to yourself. You crossed your legs, which made it worse, so you uncrossed them. Then you sat forward. Leaned back. Nothing helped.

“Dessert menus came,” one of your friends said, sliding an embossed card your way. “But we figured we’d wait for you two.”

“Oh, how thoughtful,” you smiled, still trying to get comfortable. You started reading through the options, gladly taking the distraction. And you thought, foolishly, that you might at least make it through dessert with some semblance of normalcy. That was until Aaron’s hand landed on your thigh. Again.

You stiffened, eyes snapping to him, but he was mid-conversation with someone across the table, something about funding, completely unbothered, like he wasn’t slowly trying to finger you into oblivion at the table. You moved in your seat, tring to squeeze your legs together but the pressure only made it worse, your underwear still damp and clinging across skin that was already far too sensitive.

It made no difference. He just laughed at a joke someone made, all while his fingers traced lazy patterns from your knee to the hem of your dress. Your heeled foot found his under the table, and you gave it a kick. He looked at you then, all smiley. 

“Breathe,” he said quietly and entirely unhelpfully. “Don’t draw attention to yourself.”

“You’re crazy,” you muttered, your thighs already tensing as his hand slid higher, swallowed by your dress.

His fingers pressed the soaked material of your underwear, and you dropped your head, hand coming up to your temple like you were nursing a headache. He leaned in then, nodding towards the dessert menu before whispering, “So good for me, sweetheart.”

You disguised a whimper as a cough and felt his fingers dip beneath the fabric. You bit your bottom lip hard enough to taste blood.

“Listen to yourself,” he mumbled, right as he started circling your clit again. And you heard it, exactly what he was referring to. The wet sound of him mixed with your arousal, embarrassingly loud in your own ears even over the clink of cutlery and conversation. He was using one of your biggest turn-ons against you and you hated how well he knew it…hated even more how well it was working, that familiar feeling already making itself known in the pit of your stomach. 

Orange was your safe word. All you had to do was mention oranges—how they’re in season, how they’re not, ask if anyone liked marmalade, hell, just casually bring up vitamin C. No one would question it. Aaron would recognise it immediately and he’d stop.

But the syllables wouldn’t come. The tip of your tongue was useless, and your brain had apparently filed for resignation. So instead you shifted in your seat, spreading your legs a little wider. You lifted your eyes to meet his, seeing what looked close to pride.

Across the table, someone asked you a question and you nodded vaguely. You hoped it was a yes or no question because you absolutely could not be trusted to speak. Your mouth was too dry, and the rest of you was, well…not. 

Your hand reached for the cool glass of water, and you wrapped your fingers around it, absently smearing through the beads of condensation. But you didn’t lift it, for fear of dropping it straight into your lap and dragging every pair of eyes to exactly where Aaron’s fingers were now knuckle-deep inside you.

Your eyes fluttered closed for a second too long as he fucked into you, slowly. Not enough to push you over the edge, but far too much to pretend like you were functioning normally.

“Aaron,” you breathed, eyelids heavy, forehead clammy with sweat. 

“Need me to go faster?” he asked, quiet enough for only you to hear.

You nodded, focusing on the simple mechanics of breathing in and out, as if oxygen alone might be enough to hold you together. You just had to make it five more minutes. Five more minutes without gasping or moaning or knocking a water glass into your lap and revealing everything.

But then his fingers curled just right and your hips lurched forward helplessly. Aaron’s arm bumped the underside of the table, making the plates clatter and shift, not that anyone seemed to notice or if they did, they were polite enough to not comment. 

You dropped your hand to your lap, nails digging crescent moons into your thigh. Someone across the table laughed, and then someone else followed. Apparently there had been an endless stream of jokes while you’d been too busy getting off on your boyfriend’s thick fingers to notice.

“Are you alright?” one of your friends asked. 

“Yeah—yeah, all good.” You nodded, forcing a smile that was too tight. “Just a little hot, that’s all.”

Aaron hummed beside you, low and pleased, as though your answer had been for him and rewarded you below the table, curling his fingers deeper. You let out a sharp gasp, eyes snapping to the friend who’d asked if you were okay, checking to see if she was still watching. She wasn’t. You relaxed, only slightly, because your second orgasm was right around the corner.

You felt it in the way one of your heels had slipped off under the table, your toes curling against the floor. In the way one hand stayed pressed into your thigh, while the other clung to the edge of the table like your life depended on it.

“I’m gonna–”

“Shhh,” Aaron hushed you, leaning into your shoulder. To anyone else, it would look like the two of you were simply having a private conversation, huddled close to hear each other over the noise, leaving no clue, aside from your frantic breathing, that his hand was still buried inside you.

“I can feel you clenching around me,” he murmured. “So fucking desperate. What would they say if they knew you were dripping down my wrist right now?”

That was all it took. You were already close and he nudged you over with just a handful of syllables. Your eyes squeezed shut, like a secret you couldn’t hold anymore. Your breath left you in a wobbly exhale, and you forced your head to stay upright, even as your muscles went soft, your body completely spent.

You could still feel your pulse pounding in your ears but you blinked through the heat behind your eyes, trying to calm yourself with shallow sips of air. Aaron withdrew his hand, wiping his fingers on a napkin.

“You okay?” he asked, without any trace of smugness. 

You nodded, a little slow. “Yeah. Just… give me a second.”

“I’ll call us a cab,” he said gently. “We’ll take the desserts to go.”

He started to stand, but your hand landed on his thigh, stopping him. “I’m going to need some help,” you muttered, partly because you were afraid your legs might give out… and partly because you weren’t brave enough to look at the state of the chair.

Aaron leaned down, placed a soft kiss on your forehead, and whispered, “Okay, honey. I’ll come get you once the car is here.”

And then he was gone, walking towards the waiter you’d had that evening while simultaneously pulling his phone from his pocket to call a cab. That gave you a ten-minute window to come up with an excuse for why you were leaving early, which, you noted with a vague sense of resignation, was just another one of your own rules you’d managed to break tonight.

You adjusted your dress, avoided looking at the chair, and mentally crossed dignity off the list of things you’d be leaving with.

At least the dessert was boxed.

tags - @fandomscombine @pastelpinkflowerlife @hazzyking @bernelflo @risenqueen1521 @jazzimac1967 @camihotchner @abschaffer2 @ill-be-okay-soon-enough @pacmillo-blog-blog @stilestotherescue @kiwriteswords @anvdala @supersanelyromantic @yourallaround-simp @percysley @wowitsafemale @cinnamoncunt @keiminds @iyskgd @mystic-rox @insured-by-the-mafia @mggslover @Star-crossed-Sephie @tearykth @2dloveshp  @lovelystrawberry @imissaaronhotchner @justyourusualash @alexxavicry @storiesofsvu @ehedrick012110 @hopelessromantic727 @piatosniathenie @averyhotchner @softtdaisy @b1tchyr1ichy @wvffles @mayhills @star-crossed-libby @sreidmia @circuskatt @thehotchners @yasministration

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[s1m0nth3swag]

Could you write “How would Viktor does when reader has depression”.

Of course! Thanks for the ask pookie :)

These r a little short because I am still ill (and my head is literally killing me as I type this) but Viktor is more important than getting well!! (Also bawling my eyes out after act 3, even though I'd still love Viktor nonetheless, machine or not, he's getting it)

WARNINGS/ CONTENT INFO: Mentions of Depression (obviously), GN!Reader, sweet Fluff, Viktor has no clue what he's doing in all honesty, he tries (and succeeds) to be sweet

2 Stories - One more casual/not yet dating and the other is established relationship

You've been off lately, Viktor had noticed. Isolating yourself bit by bit, looking more tired and overall acting just weird. You've had your phases before, but this one was too long. It wasn't like you at all. You've barely even spoken to him or Jayce, when usually you'd yap both their ears off about whatever topic you had learned about the previous night. Now, the lab was silent. Jayce was away on some Council party, and god knows Viktor would never start a conversation on his own while working. Though, he couldn't focus tonight. He mindlessly tinkered with small parts that laid around his desk, his thoughts clouded with the question of what was bothering you. Whatever it was, it bothered him as well. He'd never say, but he missed the cheery and chipper way you'd usually be.

"Are you... alright?" He questions after a while, clearing his throat slightly. This was already too awkward for him, but he did care. Totally just because the atmosphere of the lab would suffer if you weren't your usual self. He noticed the way you shifted uncomfortably as he glanced over to where you were sitting, like you were pondering how to answer. He wondered why you'd need so long to think of an answer, as if you couldn't tell him the truth. "I'm fine. Just a little tired, I just haven't been sleeping well." You answer, a soft, akward chuckle slipping from your lips. Viktor doesn't like that answer. You're different from how you are when you're just tired - not that he actually paid attention to that, but you weren't on your fifth cup of coffee yet. Actually, you hadn't had coffee at all today, another unusual happening. He sighs softly, and you immediatly know that he's gotten into questioning mode - he was a scientist after all. He really couldn't help it. "You can talk to me, you know? We don't have to be lab partners and nothing else, we can be friends." He speaks, his voice softer than before. "What's bothering you, hm?" Viktor adds, turning his chair around to look at you properly. It's your turn to sigh, letting your head hang slightly. "I've just been... feeling off. Like, actually tired but in a mental way? I don't know how to explain." You mutter, awkwardly averting your gaze from him. "We should take a day off, then. Do whatever you want instead of working." Viktor answers casually. "I don't want to miss important stuff in the lab Viktor, I can't take a day off." You throw back at him. He huffs, a slight chuckle filling the room. "Not you. Us. Maybe all three, if Jayce is willing." He clarifies, already noting it down in his notebook to make sure that day off actually happens.

Viktor noticed the moment he woke up next to you. You'd fallen into another slump. He could tell just by the way you didn't just not want to get up - it was a physical challenge for you. He's seen you like this before, though usually it didn't last too long, at least not that he's noticed, maybe only a day or two at most. But by now, it's been almost a week, and you haven't spoken to him about it. You've been more abrasive, have started caring less about your personal hygiene, and while Viktor doesn't mind, he always hated when you didn't take proper care of yourself. He wanted you to feel good, not fall into a depressive hole. He offered to take a shower or bath with you, to make a game out of brushing your teeth, but you had shut everything down. It wasn't because you didn't think the ideas were sweet, but more because you didn't think you even deserved that much effort. Viktor had to helplessly watch you get worse, and he couldn't even do anything to properly help. It was absolute hell to him.

He'd had enough, wanted to be mad at you, even, but he couldn't blame you for it. He could, however, force you to stay cuddled up in bed with him. You liked staying in bed anyway, and cuddling with him was always one of your favourites. So, here you two were, snuggled into the covers of Viktors way too confortable bed. "You know that I love you, right?" Viktor mumbled, his accent more heavy with sleep. He didn't say it enough, at least that's what he thought. "I do know..." you answered, just as sleepily. "I know you can't control this.. but let me help you, please? I know it's hard, trust me I do, but I hate having to watch from the sidelines as you get worse..." He sighs, pressing a kiss against your forehead. "Let me just be there for you, yeah, my dear?" Viktor adds, pulling away slightly to look at you. "Alright.. I'll... I'll try, I promise." You answer, scooting back towards him so you could press your face into the crook of his neck, basking in his warmth for a little longer.

[just1cefor4ll]

Hii! Absolutely loved your work for Danya, better that I could imagine!!! I was thinking about Valya with reader from Portugal delegation (maybe even part of the Napa), since he loves this song. Idk really, hope you like it

—Eu te amo

Valya Leshchynskyi x fem!reader

summary. you hang out with Valya at an after-party where you teach each other your languages

warning. not proof read, might include wrong translations

Tonight was special for a number of reasons. The Eurovision semi-final had just ended a few hours ago and now, in the chaos of the music and overwhelming emotions, everyone was celebrating their qualifications for the grand-final— even you, a member of the Portuguese band Napa who was said to have odds lower then a lightening strike hitting you— but you beat those odds like an easy game of tag, now clinking glasses with the rest of the group who just like you still couldn’t believe it.

“We told you to not look at the odds people give you because things can change.” Your manager told you all as she took a sip of her drink. “Exactly— [Name] was having a full on panic attack right before the performance because some person started breaking down in full detail on why we won’t qualify.”

You scoffed, nudging Guilherme who had just called you out. “Well it’s not my fault he—“ You get cut off by Francis; “Shut up you two. No more looking at odds, especially before the grand-final.” Diogo nodded along, leaning back in his seat. “Yeah we don’t need you collapsing on stage before we even get to the green room.” You huffed in slight annoyance but laughed softly along with them. “Fine, promise I won’t do that anymore.”

The night seemed to be endless in the best way possible and after a while you decided to excuse yourself and go get another drink. You noticed a familiar curly haired brunette— Valentyn who you had been silently crushing on ever since you first saw him. He had this quiet charm to him that made your heart leap any time he was around which made you sound insane, but something about him just made you weak.

He was leaning against the counter of the bar with his brother, waiting for their drinks to be made as they collectively laughed at something you didn’t catch.

“Hey, [Name]! Congratulations on your qualification.” One of their external backing vocalists— Khrystyna had greeted you, hugging you tightly. “Thank you! Congratulations as well, glad we’ll be seeing more of each other.” You smiled, ordering the drink you came there for in the first place. “What about you guys? How are you feeling?” Valya snorted, nudging his brother Danya. “Yeah Daniil how do you feel about tonight?” Danya scoffed, pulling up tik tok with the several memes of his reaction.

“How are people so quick with it?” You ponder, laughing light heartedly at the videos as you handed the phone back. “No idea, but at least we know we don’t have a boring fan base.”

You decided to hang with them for a while, finding a proper place to sit where you all caught up and got to know each other on a more deeper level with no flashing lights of cameras or mics being shoved into your faces.

An hour in, Danya and a few others had decided to rest for the day, saying their goodbyes before they left. It was just you and Valentyn now, but the conversation still flowed easily as you never really ran out of things to talk about— whether it be about your countries, fun experiences or horrible stage fails from previous performances.

Then the topic of your languages rolled around, each of you going back and forth, laughing at how ridiculous some of your phrases sounded when translated literally.

You leaned forward with a small grin, catching Valentyn’s eye. “Okay, I’m going to teach you one of my favorite Portuguese sayings. It’s a bit weird, but it’s fun.” You smile, slowly pronouncing each word for him to better understand. “Quem tem boca vai a Roma.”

Valya blinked, trying to repeat it slowly. “Quem tem boca vai a Roma..?”

You nod enthusiastically. “Yes! Literally, it means ‘Who has a mouth goes to Rome.’ But what it really means is if you ask enough questions, if you speak up, you can get anywhere.”

He smiles, clearly amused. “That’s so strange! Why Rome though?” You sit up straighter, a hint of excitement in your eyes as you never really taught your language to anyone. “Rome was this huge, important city, right? So the idea is, if you have a voice, you can reach even the biggest places.” You shrug playfully. “I know, very poetic for a phrase that sounds like nonsense at first.”

You folded your arms like a curious child, looking at Valya with a playfully serious face. “Alright, Mr. Ukrainian, what weird sayings do you have for me?” He let out a laugh, pulling up some on his phone. “Oh I’ve got plenty— hear this one out; “‘Не в своїй тарілці’ it literally translates to, ‘not in your own plate’ which means feeling out of place or uncomfortable.” You nod, sipping on the last of your drink. “Yeah we also have an idiom for that. ‘Sentir-se como um peixe fora d’água’ which is literally ‘to feel like a fish out of water.’”

You laughed for a while, giving each other lessons on your culture and more silly sayings before Valya threw his head back in boredom.

“Okay enough with these stupid idioms tell me something real. Something actually meaningful.” Valya says, putting down his cup and looking at you curiously. You try to stutter something out but nothing came to mind once you got put on the spot.

You shrugged your shoulders, looking at him as if he had just yelled at a foreigner for taking pictures in a no-picture zone. “I don’t know. What do you want to know?” You ask, and Valya answered as if he had that phrase prepared all night. “How do you say ‘I love you?’”

Your cheeks burn up a bit, a hint of slight confusion and maybe even jealousy had started to crawl under your skin. Was this for purely educational purposes or a lover you hadn’t caught onto? You sigh, mumbling the phrase out.

“Eu te amo.”

Valya’s eyes lock onto yours, and for a long second, he says nothing. Then, with a small, almost teasing smile, he leans forward and says quietly, “Say it again.” You blink, surprised, but nod, your heart pounding as you repeat it.

“Eu te amo.”

His gaze lingers on your lips, like he’s savoring the sound of the words when they come from you. You can feel the intensity of his stare, and a flutter stirs deep in your chest. He doesn’t let you get comfortable. Instead, he asks, “Again.” You hesitate for just a moment, but the warmth in his eyes gives you courage. “Eu te amo.”

Valya’s smile grows a little wider, though his eyes still hold something deeper — a softness mixed with something like awe. “Я люблю тебе усім серцем.” He breaths out, his eyes slightly hooded from the alcohol in his system. He leaned over the table and cupped your cheek, his lips almost brushing against yours. “You know what that means in ukranian?” You shake your head nervously, his skin hot on your cheek. “I can show you what it means.” He smirks softly, your cheeks already red— not sure if from the alcohol or what was currently happening. You nodded your head slowly, and that was all he needed to close the gap between you.

He pressed his lips to yours—just a quick, feather-light kiss. But then he leaned in again, and again. Each time the kisses grew a little bolder, a little deeper, until you were practically losing your breath.

“We should talk about languages more often if this is what I get to do in return.” He teased, kissing your forehead before you both left the bar together.

“Whatever you say, meu amor.”

© just1cefor4all— I don’t consent to my writing being reposted to other platforms or fed into AI. Translating it is also strictly prohibited. 🚫

[babyboywilson]

House md idea:

House refusing to admit he loves wilson because he thinks that theyre already married (due to some elaborete plot) and because of this he thinks wilson is deciding to refuse to admit he loves house so house is also refusing

Something something something

Then a proper wedding

the marriage certificate had been in the drawer of house’s desk for weeks now. a late night ceremony in hawaii after a conference that he and wilson had attended.

to be fair, wilson hadn’t known it was a marriage ceremony at the time. the description hadn’t been clear. it was supposed to be a nighttime ceremony on the beach with rope and flowers. house had joked it was a great way for him to tie wilson up and wilson had rolled his eyes but agreed just to prove he could thwart house at whatever game house was playing.

house might have googled what the ceremony was right before they attended. and he might or might not have discovered it was essentially a wedding. what better way to tie wilson to him then trick him into marrying him and maybe they could finally discuss the unspoken thing better them?

wilson only found out it was a native marriage ceremony when they were asked if they were ready to become husband and husband. wilson had choked out a laugh of surprise and flashed his gaze towards house. “what?” wilson asked. house had shrugged and replied, “well. they meant tying the knot literally. too late to back out now.”

house placed a sloppy kiss on wilson’s cheek, and they were declared husbands.

that night, in their shared hotel room, house had laughed out a “care to share the bed, husband?” it was said in a lighthearted tone, half joking and half flirtatious with a hint of seriousness buried under the teasing. because… well… they were husbands now. and there had always been something charged and crackling between them. maybe now house could finally drop enough metaphors that wilson would read between the lines and interpret house’s feelings for wilson.

wilson had shaken his head and said he was good sleeping on the couch still. and then he’d walked away from house without looking back.

house froze for a second, his brain whirring as he put together the words and actions. wilson didn’t feel the way house did. the tension between them was one-sided. even though they were married… wilson still didn’t want house the way house wanted him. with a false sincerity, house said, “more space for me then” and collapsed onto the bed; turning his back on wilson.

they’d flown back home and refused to talk about it.

days had gone by. days morphed into weeks. the fact they were married never seemed to come up in conversation.

until wilson had snuck into house’s office, rifling through the drawers of his desk looking for his secret stash of vicodin. and there was the marriage certificate. slipped into a protective sleeve in the corner of the drawer.

“find what you were looking for?” house asked from the doorway.

wilson stumbled, slamming the drawer shut and cursing under his breath as the drawer closed on his finger and he pulled it back quickly. “why do you still have that?” he asked, gesturing towards the certificate.

house shrugged. “for future black mail. if you’re looking for the vicodin, it’s in the lupus book.”

“don’t change the subject.”

house raised an eyebrow. “isn’t that what you were looking for?”

grabbing the certificate, wilson waved the paper in house’s general direction. “why is this here?”

dropping into his chair, house picked up his ball and tossed it into the air a couple of times. “reminder that i’m taken.”

wilson ran his hand through his hair. “house, that wasn’t… the ceremony wasn’t real. we aren’t-”

“am i not allowed to pretend we are?” house reached out and snatched the certificate from wilson’s hands. their fingers brushed. house shuddered. wilson’s breath caught in his throat.

“house,” wilson murmured softly.

“get out,” house snarled, turning away from wilson and violently bouncing the ball off the wall. it bounced across the room and house sighed.

“house,” wilson repeated, even quieter. and then wilson was stepping around the chair, into house’s space.

snagging his cane, house whacked wilson in the knee. “i said get out.”

shaking his head, wilson leaned down until his face was inches from house’s. “marry me? for real this time.”

house scoffed, shoving wilson back again. “jokes gone too far now. get out.”

wilson stepped back into house’s space, dropping to his knees in front of house’s chair. “no. not until you marry me again.”

and then wilson was closing the gap between them, their mouths meeting in a biting desperate kiss. house gasped and wilson kissed him deeper.

when wilson moved to break the kiss, house chased him, pulling wilson closer until they were kissing again. and again. and again. by the time house finally eased out of the kiss, his head was spinning and wilson’s lips were kiss swollen and his hair was mussed from house running his fingers through the silky strands.

“i’m guessing that was a yes, then?” wilson asked.

“get out,” house said, but instead of pushing wilson away, he drew wilson’s closer until wilson was straddling house in the office chair and they were kissing again.

[sircantus]

hey i hope this isn’t a weird question and you totally don’t have to answer, but how are you so close with your younger brother? my brother is three years younger than me, and it seems like we never talk. my room is literally one door over from his, yet i don’t know the names of any of his friends, what music he likes, or his favorite subject in school. it makes me sad, cause i remember when we were little and he looked up to me. now he doesn’t even look at me. idk just i love and kind of envy how emotionally connected you seem to your sibling, and was wondering if you had any advice for me. so yeah :/

Yknow funnily enough as much as i love talking about my little brother, we arent that close. I dont know his friends or his music taste or his favorite subject either. I dont know a lot about him and he doesn’t know much about me. He doesn’t even know im trans. We dont truly talk a lot. We hardly truly talk ever, actually, and even if i try to make conversation, its like pulling teeth, because he hates giving me proper responses, and he will ignore me if i say good morning, and he’ll push me away if i try to hug him, and he’ll roll his eyes if i try to be nice to him.

But i guess love isnt really about Knowing someone. its more like the feeling, the small bits of fondness around the constant bickering and coexistence.

My advice i suppose would be to just be persistent. Bicker when you can, do little favors when you can, insult when you can. Just be there. Be a constant. That’s where most of sibling love comes from anyway, from the fact that the two of you are constant throughout all your lives. Or at least thats where i get my love from.

[thevoidstaredback]

How To Balance Your Daytime and Nighttime Activities So That You Don't Burn Yourself Out More Than You Already Have

"Hey, Babs,"

"Dick? It's late, what's wrong?"

"Nothing's wrong!"

"I'm about to go on patrol, D, can this wait?"

A sigh. "No."

"What's wrong?"

"Blockbuster's after Oracle."

***

Gotham Proper is a thirty-three minute drive from Bludhaven. The drive to Bristol from Bludhaven is a fifty-one minute drive through Drescher, Burnside, Sumerset, Victoria Place, and Little Stockton before crossing the bridge over Gotham River into Bristol. Gotham Proper is made of four islands connected to each other and the mainland via several bridges. Technically, all of those cities and towns - as well as Charon and Brentwood - are sister cities like Bludhaven, but everyone counts them as a part of Gotham anyway.

Dick spent the entire drive alternating between sulking and panicking.

Danny would know. Ghosts, as he's come to understand, are beings made of emotion, meaning that he can sense emotions better than living beings. Though, he didn't need an empth ability to read the air around Dick.

'What if something happens while we're gone?" Dick asked for the nth time in the past few minutes, "What if Brutale decides to blow something up while I'm gone? What if Blockbuster starts something big?"

"Bigger than what he's already doing?" Danny didn't bother to look up from his conversation with Tim. "The fact that you can't even name specific examples proves that you're not actually worried about Blockbuster or Brutale."

"I'm worried about Brutale blowing something up, thank you very much."

"Yeah, 'something'. Who even is Brutale anyway? I don't think I know that name."

"No one you need to worry about." He moved into the right lane.

Danny turned his phone off and set it face down on his leg. "What are you really worried about, Dick? I've known you for five weeks now, and I've never seen you this worried about anything."

"You've known me for three weeks."

"No, you've known me for three weeks. I've known you for five weeks. And don't change the subject."

Dick sighed, running his left hand through his hair before dropping it back onto the steering wheel.

"Is it Bruce?"

"...yeah."

"You know he's at work, right?"

"Yeah, I- How do you know that?"

He waved his phone a bit. "I checked with Tim. So, it's just going to be Tim and Alfred at the Manor when we get there."

"You know Alfred?"

"I know of Alfred." Danny slapped his right shoulder, "Stop trying to change the subject!"

"I can't help it! Deflecting has worked pretty damn well for me up until this point!"

"Oh, yeah? Against who?"

"Literally everyone!"

"Everyone?"

A beat. "Okay, so maybe only most people, but that's not the point!"

"Doesn't matter what your point is because we're going back to talking about mine!" He huffed. "If you don't want to go straight to Wayne Manor, then stop by somewhere else. You had to have gained at least one friend in Gotham before you moved to Bludhaven."

Dick paused for a moment, eyeing the signs. They'd only been driving for twenty minutes. He could hang a right just before Sumerset to cross the New Trigate Bridge into Arkham Island, take another right onto Midtown and drive to Old Gotham to meet Babs/. Yeah, that'd be nice. But, the detour would increase the chance of running into Bruce later on in the day. Maybe he could have Bab's drive to the Manor?

"Is it too late to turn around?"

"Yes."

"Why are you even so insistent on going? You don't know anyone in Gotham!"

"I know Tim!" He argued. "Besides, healthy relationships are good in this kind of work."

Dick raised his eyebrow, glancing at Danny from the corner of his eye. "You wanna second to rethink that or..?"

Danny clicked his tongue. "Look, I know you don't want to talk to Bruce, and I'm not asking you to. I'm asking you to apologize to Tim for snapping at him. If you end up with better relations here in Gotham, then that only works in your favor."

Dick groaned, ditching the turn onto New Trigate and continuing on through Sumerset. "Fine! But we're leaving before Bruce gets back. I can't stand him right now."

Danny smiled, a sad look in his eye. "Alright."

He knew very well that Dick's relationship was near irreparable. From what he'd gathered, from either overhearing or snooping, Bruce had been a pretty good dad and boss to Dick up until he'd turned seventeen. He hung up the Robin mantle when he was eighteen, appearing as Nightwing when he was nineteen. Bruce, apparently, hadn't taken this very well, but copped, adopint ong Jason Todd when Dick was twenty years old, giving him the Robin mantle a few months later.

According to Dick, when Jason was killed, he'd been off world. Bruce hadn't even called him to inform him, let alone tell him about the funeral. And, when Dick got back and heard what happened from Batgirl, he'd confronted Batman in the Batcave. Batman, apparently, though he's inclined to Dick's side, punched him the face and shifted the blame.

Danny doesn't blame Dick for being angry. Not for a second. He can't really relate, but he understands.

Entering Bristol, there was a shift in the air. Outside was stuffy and smelled like money. Inside the car, however, was tense. Dick's attitude shifted to his work smile. It was plastic.

This was going to be a long day.

He didn't say anything. Quietly, Danny messaged Tim, letting him know about the shift. Tim was quick to respond, letting Danny know that he was fully prepared for whatever was coming. Danny didn't think he was.

Danny knew that something was going to happen. The air was suddenly suffocating, the world fake manufactured to perfection.

"You alright there, bud?" Dick asked, his voice perfectly professional.

"Yeah, fine. I-I'm fine." Danny wanted this car to turn around.

Part 10 Part 12

[derww]

the thing that bugged me the most after watching the wormhole video is actually that we never got the proper ending for the main plot line that was in it: parrot and spoke's personal relationship.

even though spoke showed that conversation from the end of wormhole, where parrot stood in front of spoke, clutching the handle of the hyperion, and said that he refuses to let people down even if it means he has to sacrifice something very important to him, this does not answer the question hanging in the air. from the point of view of the narrator, after losing op, parrot seems to lose his autonomy, both as an antagonist and, more importantly, as spoke's best friend, after spoke himself talked almost exclusively about their friendship for an hour, both as characters and, first of all, as real people.

"i didnt just exploit a game, i exploited a friendship i had built over the years.". speaking about both parrot and mapicc, spoke mentions several separate times how much it went beyond just playing on the server, that he abused their real, actual relationship in order to achieve his goal. at the same time, spoke does not tell what happened between them – both characters and people – after him receiving an op. in the jungle part, parrot literally has almost no lines – he just stares and stares and stares and stares. until the very end of the story, he follows the path that spoke paved for him, living in the conditions created by spoke.

we see only glimpses that everything is actually – at least relatively – fine. not only because parrot continues to play within the game, but also how he complains to spoke about the unfairness of using teleportation and that after the season ending he even suggests for spoke to become the new lifesteal owner. grains that do not reflect full image. was parrot horrified and shocked, was he angry, at least for a moment, when he realized how far spoke's manipulation extended, did they have to somehow solve and discuss it, or was he immediately like, "wow, you made a lot of awesome moves, there will be cool content!" and everything was fine? sure, parrot loves risk moves and adrenalin, but wasnt it too far?

can it even be "okay" if your best friend has been manipulating you for months for a personal goal? does this cross the line of what is truly acceptable, even in a lifesteal setting? even if it's all for the sake of shared content, even if the community has the right mentality, even if no real harm has been done, even if you're willing to trust a friend that he won't cross the line, does all this change the fact that it's, in general morality, just plain cruel?

although this is undoubtedly too personal to just insert into the video, it should be noted when the whole story is about abusing irl friendship. although i absolutely understand this decision, this is by no means a critical review, from the point of view of storytelling it is strikingly incorrect, as if in the middle of writing a book the writer threw out all rules.

of course, this is an important conversation to be had on the whole – with the rules never mentioned out loud, with an unspoken agreement that everyone understands what's going on here and how, and what everyone is signing up for, when the price is friendship and connection, how far is it too far? lsers are friends, to a greater or lesser extent, but it's almost inappropriate to answer "everyone has their limits" when a relationship is at stake. everyone, including spoke himself, agrees that what he did in s4 was too much, but there were many, many other moments where everything was not so clear, and, moreover, there was no discussion, even in private, which never solves the essence of the problem.

lifesteal is not unique, but it is a very rare system in how far people can be willing to go in a war against others, despite the fact that everyone is friends: most of the pre–lifesteal stories of this approach took place on public servers and against strangers, and friends' servers either remained frivolous to one degree or another, or were scripted. post-lifesteal, many servers of a similar kind have appeared, but only a small part of them are comparable in terms of the proximity of the players and the rigidity of the approach, because it is incredibly difficult to simultaneously allow yourself to get involved as deeply as possible and, at the same time, having received a knife in the back, not want to bury the traitor underground. It's about trust, and it's about content, and it's so strikingly different for different people, and there's obviously no right answer here.

when playing league of legends, one of the important skills that every player needs to develop is not to tilt. at the same time, take the game seriously, but be ready to let go of defeat, no matter how much effort you put into the game. don't go crazy when you lose a line and die ten times, and jungler yells at you as the worst possible being. it took me a few years to stop tilting, and it carried over to minecraft too – where my friends got upset, angry, and gave up, i learned to just shrug my shoulders and try again. but that didn't teach me how to deal with betrayal, even in-game, because the worst thing about betrayal is that it always comes from someone close to you. not from an accidental co-player in a match, and not as a simple accident, but as an intention to harm, even if only in the game. it is a lot to take, and the cost is too high. and, while parrot and spoke are still good friends, parrot left owner role because of the distress it gave him, so doesn't it show the presence of a real impact.

i like that we got only half-truth tho. because it is who spoke is. when he needs you to believe him, he says something actually truthful, and then – his lie and manipulation, and you eat it because believe everything to be true. even now, spoke continues to metagame. he's fine with showing that he was a dick, and he's using that to cover a part he never wants to explain. and he wouldn't.

spoke tells the truth saying he liked to do the impossible, but it is not a full answer. while s4 ending was supposed to be a relief for him, an opportunity to stop lying and being a villain, there remains something else – not only the showdown, but the guilt, the realization that you were so wrong that you hide huge chunks and you refuse to get them for another year and a half. when everything ends, when there is nowhere else to run, reflection and awareness remain. a year and a half later, from the season 6, spoke can end the video on a positive note, but for that long-time spoke, who had just released the god from his body, covered with lightning scars everywhere, absolutely not feeling like a winner, it was a bad end, and perhaps for his character, it couldn't be good.

how old was spokeishere when he did all this, 16? there is an irony that he is the worldender, the trickster, the manipulator, and he's the youngest of them all. sometimes i want to call him dumb for not being careful enough or anything else but then i do remember how he played everyone in s4. not in a big picture, but in smalltalks, toying people while they thought him to be completely harmless. spokeishere being smart is like lifesteal having its unspoken rules – you need to be too attentive to see it. often it is like a... circles on the water. you can't see a fallen pebble, but you can see the waves radiating from it. and, in the end, he is the one who did it, who succeeded, and who am i to judge him?

minecraft roleplay can do something very wrong with you, how any acting sometimes can break you apart and turn inside out. because while you are letting yourself feel like it's real, it is, at some capacity, can be real. and while it is a known factor of being an actor, it's not something you do think about when you go to play a game with your friends. sometimes it changes something very, very important in you, and sometimes you look back on that experience and realize that it hurt you. or not. everyone has their unique experiences, as always.

also, we finally found out the reason the fishing spot was so important. not only a place of friendship but also a place of the exploiting! yay!

[weirdero]

I’ve seen a lot of people online saying that Piper is either going to be Quinn 2.0 from Season 1 or Olivia 2.0, and honestly, I get it. I understand where those assumptions are coming from and it wouldn’t be the worst thing in the world especially if she ended up as another Quinn. She seems like a nice girl stuck in a fucked up family. But my god that would just be so boringgggg. We’re only on Season 3 it’s way too early for the show to start recycling character archetypes. I also think with the added dynamic of her brothers she’ll be her own evil freaky bitch yk. Anyways the siblings got me fucked up.

Her brothers are themselves. Saxon is the most outrageous out of three I don't think he's ever been proper humbled in his life and has a very very very disgusting black and white outlook on the world.

He's like those men who believe life revolves around sex and sex is just a game. The type of man that excuses his abhorrent terrible behavior on his “natural human instinct”.

Lochlan is definitely chiller, but still a freak. He seems to crave attention from both of his siblings in a very odd way. He enjoys Saxon’s “life advice” and gossip. I think he’s very aware of his brother’s unhinged nature and recognizes that it’s ridiculous but I genuinely don’t believe he sees it as anything more than that. He’s the kind of guy that just brushes Saxon’s behavior off because “he’s just a silly guy,” YK?

And with Piper, I think he definitely knows she’s the more normal one compared to Saxon. Even though we haven’t seen them interact much yet I think they’re able to have more honest conversations with each other. He tells her that he attempted to pray and even though he didn’t really feel any sort of divine intervention or anything he still chooses to share this with Piper.

He also gives off gossipy vibes. When Saxon tells him he thinks piper has never had sex before he decided to tell piper about it but not in a concerning “our brother is a freak” way but in a playful way, kinda like it’s just some casual chitchat, rather than something deeply weird. Like I mentioned earlier he also excuses his brother behavior by down playing it and explaining the original context of the statement as a “compliment”????

And after piper is clearly disturbed and uncomfortable with this conversation he decides to double down and ask her if she had had sex before.

This gossipy nature comes out during their lunch scene with that whole Kate and Victoria interaction. I already talked about how I interpreted both Kate’s and Victorias feelings in this scene and why the both specifically acted that way in this post but the way Lochlan acts is also very telling of who he is he's the only person at that table to question his mothers odd behavior telling her straight up was was kinda rude. But just like with Saxon I don't he actually cares or takes an issue with how his mom handled that interaction he's not actively trying to call her out but more curious than anything. Get kinda messy with it. YK? Anyways like I said he doesn’t actually care about how she acted based off how he reacts to her prostitution joke laughing along with Saxon and his father. Actually scratch that he looks at Saxon first to check if HES LAUGHING. also he was 100% ready to watch his brother jack off. Weirdo!

Then there’s piper. Like fucking pipe. She does seem to be the most sane out of all of them in the instances that I brought up she’s like literally the only person with an appropriate response. but I still can't properly pin point her. I want to believe she's sane and normal I really do and hell she might be and I might just be too fucking suspicious but there is just something about her. When lochlan tells her about saxsons comment about her sex life her first reaction to me seems defensive. Not even a "why would he say that" type of reaction which she settles for later but a "he doesn't know what I do".

And again, I might be reading into things, but it just feels so specific. I’ve been watching this season with my friends one of them specifically loves Piper’s character and another thinks she’s just a performative white girl Olivia 2.0 But neither of them think she’s a freak.

In defense of my friend who thinks she’s just another privileged white girl she did point out another moment during the family’s lunch conversation

She tells her dad that she didn’t choose this hotel and that it’s not her vibe and its like “Disneyland for rich bohemians from Malibu and their Lululemon leggings”

Then later she’s seen in yoga in what honestly I wouldn’t be surprised if they were Lululemon leggings.

Anyway, it’s almost 8pm where I am now and I need this new episode to drop now.

[c-t-r-l14]

And the Crowd is….Slighlty Confused!?

Ya’ll remember when Kendrick Lamar said, “I remember when you was conflicted”?

That’s me right now, ya’ll. I’m conflicted.

I’m conflicted as hell.

For the first time in six months, Alex and Gremlin sat down and had a proper conversation about the break up, how they’ve been feeling, and what they’ve been doing since then. And honestly, I couldn’t be more prouder of both of them. They were certainly tackling this subject with maturity—an aspect that they both begged of each other, but clearly lacked the last time they spoke. It was really nice to see them sit down and be amicable to one another, and honestly, my heart couldn’t help but soften by the way they interacted with each other. It reminded me of the good ol’ days. The peaceful times before everything went to shit.

On one hand, I really want them to have a happy ending. In the audio, you can just feel the mutual pining between those two; the way they both have been stalking each other socials, the way they’ve been thinking about each other non-stop, the way they find remnants of each other and the happy times they had in ordinary mundane things—the way you can tell how much they’ve missed each other. Like—I truly, truly felt the love. This was the conversation they should’ve had from the very beginning, and it pisses me off that they didn’t really talk things out after the first initial argument in part four. At the end of the day, all Gremlin wanted was reassurance, even though they went about it the wrong way. I think one of the best things about this audio was the fact that Alex gave them a lot of grace. He recognizes that Gremlin’s trust issues went deeper than they thought, and even realized that what they did that night was a lapse in judgement on their part. He took the time to understand their mindset when they made those accusations—how it’s hard to see anything differently when you’ve had your mind set on something, or—how sometimes when life is a little bit too good, you start to get suspicious—and start to find a reason why it could be an illusion. But, I think one of the biggest things about this audio was how he acknowledged how irrelevant he made listener feel. He reflected on his behavior during the campaign shoot he was doing with Natalie—and how he was fully focused on his work because he wanted to impress the higher ups—and it was because of that, he started to neglect listener. He started answering his texts less, he was spending more of his time at the studio, and by the time he got home, he was exhausted—so its not like they could’ve done much with each other, anyway. That neglect, plus him spending time with another woman—it made Gremlin spiral, and drudged up old memories and fears that they thought they’d put to bed. And Alex, after all this time—finally acknowledged that he was partly to blame for that spiral, and realized that he should’ve been more attentive to the person he loves.

Another thing I really love about this video is that we finally get a reason why he acted so strangely during the break up. Alex and Gremlin never really spoke about the cheating accusations after it happened, and like I said in my last rant—it’s very possible that it had been on his mind for a long time, but he just never told them how bad it truly made him feel until the break up convo happened—which caused his feelings to get the better of him. And, he acknowledged that because of this, it made him say some things that he really shouldn’t have said. Now, as a person who’s literally known for her hatred of Alex, I’m gonna give credit where credit’s due. I am very proud of Alex’s character development. I’m proud he reflected on all of the events that took place and the part he played, and unlike the last audio—he doesn’t make excuses this time around. He acknowledges the break up could’ve been handled better, and takes some accountability for his role in it. But that’s the thing—he only takes some accountability for his part, and it’s because of that I’m conflicted as hell.

Throughout this entire closure convo, it seems like Alex was kind of vague about the things he said during the breakup. He never once acknowledged the excuses he made, the gaslighting he did, or his hypocrisy during that entire conversation. And those three things were the biggest reasons why a lot of people do not like him. Like yes, he acknowledges that his emotions got the better of him and made him say ‘things he shouldn’t have’, but the main thing he did acknowledge was the offhand comment he made about Gremlin not being the “right person” for this relationship. On top of that, he made sure to go into great detail on the way Gremlin confronted him about the cheating allegations. Now, don’t get me wrong—Alex is fully within his right to tell Gremlin how they made him feel. At the end of the day, they had no right to violate his privacy or yell at them with accusations they made up based off flimsy ass evidence and their own paranoid theories—and I can understand why Alex was hurt by that. However, he never really went into depth about the things he said during the break up convo,either. He puts the gaslighting, excuse making, and hypocrisy under the umbrella term of ‘things he shouldn’t have said to them’, and that was something I really did not like. Because, one of the biggest reasons why Gremlin fully believed that the break up was all their fault was because Alex made it seem that way. He dodged the solutions Gremlin tried to give him with excuses, he demanded transparency from them and couldn’t even be bothered to do the same thing back, and used such roundabout language that made it seem like they were the only problem—despite his lack of effort and accountability. He doesn’t even acknowledge the fact that he tried to twist their anger for being the last to know about his job offer in a way that made them look like that they were mad that he got a job offer at all. And speaking of that job offer…WHAT THE HELL DO YOU MEAN YOU ‘NEVER TOLD THEM YES?’ WHAT DO YOU MEAN YOU WERE ‘ONLY THINKING ABOUT IT,’ AND ‘WANTED TO TALK ABOUT IT TO THE PEOPLE WHO MATTERED TO YOU FIRST?’ In the break up audio, he made it seem like he was actually going to take the job. Him taking the job was one of the biggest reasons why he broke up with Gremlin in the first place—because he was so sure that they couldn’t handle long distance! If he wasn’t sure about taking the job the day he broke up with them—then what was the point of the break up in the first place?? Why didn’t he at least take the time to make a decision about the job offer first, and then see what he could do about his relationship afterword?? Like—if he wasn’t 100% sure that he wasn’t going to go to States—why did he break up with them? That was the part that never made sense to me. I guess you could say that his emotions had gotten the better of him in that moment and he impulsively decided to break things off…but just knowing that he never had a definitive answer during the time they broke up makes the break up seem more stupid than it already was. I was so sure that he was going to go to New York that I didn’t even think that we were even going to get an audio where Alex tells Gremlin that he still loves them, simply because—number one—I thought he his decision to move was set in stone, and number two—he acted like he wanted nothing to do with them!

I just don’t know ya’ll, I’m hella conflicted. You can see how much he’s grown—at least in some ways. He’s finally starting to recognize his faults, and acknowledge the things he could’ve done better. I think my favorite thing about this audio was the fact that he didn’t let Gremlin take all the blame, and he even tried to give this relationship a fighting chance. However, his immaturity still lurks in the background. Because while yes, he does acknowledge some of his faults, he doesn’t seem to recognize all of them.

A part of me is still bitter toward him—and pissed as hell that they could’ve had this conversation the whole time if they just took the time to open their mouths and communicate. But, another part of me—a slightly bigger part—can’t help but forgive him. And that might be a shock to ya’ll—since I’m probably known as that ‘One girl who despises Alex so much that she makes unhinged rants about how much she hates him.’ But I think if he truly wanted to change, and is taking the initiative to do so, who am I to be mad at him? I think its a step in the right direction—and I’d like to think it’d be nice for him prove that he’s not the punk ass, bum ass, photographer bitch boy that we think is. Because, one of the biggest things I hated about him was the lack of initiative, because despite telling Gremlin how much he loves them, and how they make him happy during the break up convo—he never once lifted a finger to make things work.

But, I don’t see that now. If he wants to make things work, then—I mean—why not? Their love is just as clear as their red flags. And maybe a lot of ya’ll may think I’m a punk for thinking this way, but as much as I get up on here and talk shit, I’ve always secretly hoped that they’d get a happy ending together—one where they both worked things out. And they finally have a chance to do that now, both of them—in therapy.

Although I don’t think that’s gonna happen—because the crumpets are not having it.

Oh well. What’s important is that Gremlin got closure, and (hopefully) knows they’re not fully at fault for what happened, and Alex apologized—and to me, that’s all that matters.

Masterlist

[ilikekidsshows]

I dislike how Adrien's character is just a massive macguffin at this point. If he isn't going to do stuff himself, or even get scenes that don't involve Marinette, why would you make him the male lead and everything in the Miraculous world connect back to him???

Wanna why know why Gabriel's Hawkmoth? Emily's death! But well actually, she only died because of Adrien. Why's Lila a villain? Well, she had a spat with Marinette! Over what, you ask? Adrien. Ah yes, Felix, our dear fandom's most inconsistent character like seriously why the hell did he go from being angry his cousin didn't attend his dads funeral and calling love confessions sappy to being glad his dad is dead and randomly breaking into song resident jerk, he actually does stuff for change!! Why's he here? Well, actually he's Adrien's cousin

But, does Adrien actually do anything with this (I'd say information after this but lets be real, he has none)? Nope, sir/ma'am, nothing at all!! He never learns his father is Hawkmoth and his father never learns he's Chat Noir. Jury's out on Lila but so far, hd does absolutely nothing at all.

Well, what about Felix? You'd think that, with a character so intertwined with him, they'd actually do something with it? Give them a few scenes? Maybe actually have Adrien talk or maybe even punch some sense into his cousin for vanishing the entire world besides like three people? Give the duo some scenes? Actually address what Felix did after his introduction? Show Felix breaking him and Kagami out of Gabriel's white rooms? Nope, lets just shove Felix to the side with Kagami, and forget about him unless we have an episode which requires a jerk character, since literally none of the good guys fit that role!!

Honestly, even leaving aside the stuff abiut wasted character moments, it feels like Adrien's been relegated to like the third or fourth most important character in the show. Marinette and Alya are wayyy above him at this point. Lila can take another spot albeit hesitantly since she clearly has more focus and plot relevance than him.

Marinette didn't even give Chat Noir a kwatagama to remember her by (if Alya can have one, so can he, he was Mister Bug, remember?). He doesn't even know about the Alya is the next Guardian stuff. Literally no one does. If Marinette does have something happen to her and she gives up the guardianship, why would anyone even listen to Alya!?!? Chat Noir outranks her by seniority alone, Carapace isn't even that close behind in terms of that and most importantly, she's never led them, she's never made battle plans, she hasn't been there from the start like Chat Noir, not everyone's fought with her probably, and they've never been made aware of this little back-up plan. Who's to say she isn't a Miraculous thief, huh? What if she stole the box and killed Ladybug? They have nothing to go off of except her word.

The writers probably don't even know how to use Adrien now that the crush arc of the show is over. Everyone's saying that he's obviously getting a big build-up, but what if they just "Catwalker" this and make it so that this is all "resolved" in a single episode and they all go back to the status quo with the slight change with the slight change that everyone is more subservient to Marinette and now recognises her brilliance or whatever.

---

Some people still believe Miraculous has proper build up and payoff, huh? I’m not surprised yet I’m still disappointed at how helplessly naive this fandom is.

Like, I was trying to figure out how to properly showcase what I think is wrong with Adrien’s character, why I think he��s less of a character than ever before, even when he gets a whole episode revolving around his family. So, here’s the Animus Litmus Test of Is The Love Interest a Real Person

Does the character have an actual conversation (aka, the speaker is changed at least twice) with someone other than their significant other?

Is this conversation about something other than their significant other?

Does this conversation take place in a scene that doesn’t feature the significant other at any point?

Does the character have any goal outside of “be with the significant other”?

Like, supposedly Adrien should have a conversation in 'Werepapas' with someone other than Marinette about something other than how much he wants to stay with Marinette, but, like, this is the episode that teased the audience with Plagg getting to show up, only to not just exclude Plagg, but to exclude Adrien himself from the Akuma fight so that he can be shoved inside a literal trophy while Marinette plays with his life like an object.

[shipthelambs]

I love the idea that the Park and the other Slow Horses have one address for Lamb, but Catherine is the only one who knows where he really lives and neither of them ever talk about. Just for emergencies. Can totally see her knowing the code for his phone too. Just in case.

In my head, she’s almost certainly his next of kin too.

We put this joint drabble together

Thanks for inspiring us

😁👇

Part I. (Me)

It had been almost three months since Jackson Lamb haggled for and won the punishment-detail department of MI5, became king, and, for reasons unknown to a soul, brought Catherine Standish with him. The Aldersgate office—never before used, except for made-up legends—was assigned to them.

Every day, Jackson Lamb stayed in his office. Smoking, drinking, sleeping, resting, doing nothing. Apart from occasional visits from Catherine Standish, who wanted to know, for example, what her job actually involved. At the beginning, he told her it was all about making his tea, opening his mail, and sorting the files. But the kettle was faulty, he had only received two letters so far, and there were no files yet. Eventually, her visits became less frequent as he let her know each time how unwelcome they were—or rather, how unwelcome she was.

That morning, she was particularly bored, so she risked invading his den again. She woke him by placing a weak, lukewarm cup of tea on his desk.

"When are we getting more people in? I feel like we should have more work."

"I am working, Standish."

She gave him an incredulous look. "Working?"

"Yes, hard at it. Can’t you see?"

She paused. He was supposed to be one of the best they had. Maybe this was the way he operated—solving mysteries with his eyes closed.

"A desk is a dangerous place from which to watch the world?" she asked softly, as if in understanding.

"Fucking hell. You’re quoting le Carré, Standish?"

She shrugged.

"Christ, don’t tell me you’ve actually read it."

"I have."

"Before or after you joined the Service?" He seemed genuinely interested now, sipping his tea.

"After."

"I suppose that’s slightly better. No false hope..."

"Charles always said we needed to know le Carré to understand Second Desk’s discourse—"

"The old bastard’s?"

"He quoted le Carré in every meeting he went to."

This was already one of the longest conversations they’d ever had.

"No book could illustrate the outlandish shit we go through, Standish."

"You know John le Carré was actually a spy."

" Then he definitely left out half the outlandish shit he went through. We go through."

She didn’t say anything, just folded her hands, waiting for him to elaborate.

"You shouldn’t read crap like that. It’s not real, you know. But I suppose with the drinking you’ve always struggled with reality, haven’t you?" The first proper taunt of the morning.

"What do you recommend I read, then?"

"Try a fucking cookbook, so you can learn how to make decent tea—"

"The kettle isn’t working properly." She tried.

"—and do it in your own fucking office."

She sighed and hurried out before he decided throwing the mug at her might be a good idea.

The following week, Jackson Lamb got mail—his third letter overall. It was from Mills & Boon, a confirmation for a monthly subscription to their bodice-ripper novels…

She had to read it several times to believe it. Being thorough, she noticed something else: the home address in the letter didn’t match the one in their system...

@aladio-milhomes part II.

The feet were firm on the pavement, but her head felt light.

Her heart though, was right in the midst of it all, literally and figuratively. Racing from the exercise and her sudden decision, but also steady because of the frozen fresh air.

Perfect balance, if it wasn't for all the batty ideas that were crossing her mind.

He did that on purpose? Was it meant for her?

And why on earth would he want her to know something like that?

It hadn't been at plain sight, but easy enough for her to see since she was the one to receive the post and sort it —between the two of them—, not his usual complete spook secrecy either.

She knew almost no personal data was truthful in his file, but she wasn’t expecting this kind of intel, nor she expected to find out this way. She had a subscription letter between her hands, a book subscription. Or was it? This certainly had to be a mistake, or some kind of joke.

Deep down she'd been forever curious about what kind of place a creature like him could inhabit. She always thought it would be the complete opposite of Charles'. And she wasn't wrong.

It was already dark when she went out for her unexpected afternoon stroll.

She didn't see where she was going, nor didn't she need to. Her body was an autonomous being, even though her eyes were looking inwardly.

She felt grateful that since she'd arrived at that corner not a single drop of rain fell, for she had been standing there for quite some time now. Although, on the way here, some wind had shoved water under her umbrella, and her hair was still wet. She really should be going.

He probably wasn't there anyway, but she didn't want to raise suspicions amongst the neighbours either.

Just in case.

However, Lamb had a way to learn about everything, and she was afraid she wouldn't be able to justify herself under these circumstances. He wouldn't trust her ever again.

And now that she thought of it, he probably had one of the neighbours trained, with that inherent charm of his, to alert him if something weird like this happened.

Despite her serious inner monologue, her head felt uneasy with giddiness. The kind you start feeling when certain animals flutter in certain organ.

Silly woman. What a daft thing to do.

She took in all she could, while imagining how it would look on the inside. No doubt the same as his office, filthy, smelling of tobacco and sweat and hasn't changed a single wall, stinking of the 70s, like his oily hair. She chuckled.

A car passed her at quite a speed, startling her from her thoughts. At the same time, a glimpse of a very brief orangy blazing spark could be seen on the middle window of the first floor.

Catherine looked back at the house to get a last look, probably for the last time too, and retraced the path that led her there.

He watched her go from the darkness of his room. With a small smile tugging his mouth, full of smoke. "Clever girl."

@onesimus42 part III.

Catherine eyed the object lying in the middle of her desk with suspicion. It certainly wasn’t a style that she would have picked out for herself. Truth be told, it was a bit of a stretch to use the word style and this object in the same sentence. It actually looked enough like one that he wore that she examined it closely determine that it was in fact not pre-worn by himself. After ascertaining that it was at least clean, she took an experimental sniff. It smelled faintly of cigarettes. So, it had been with him, but not worn by him at least.

Turning the bucket hat over, she tried to determine some reason that he would have left this gift on her desk. Did he want her to go undercover? As what? A middle aged man with poor taste? Although deep down, she knew the reason. He had seen her. He had seen her closely enough last night that he knew her hair was wet. That meant there was a good chance that he’d followed her after she left the corner down from his house. She had to admit that if he hadn’t wanted her to notice him following, she likely wouldn’t. With his over-developed sense of protection over her, he’d probably wanted to make sure that she made it home safe.

Now, he wanted her to know that he’d seen her. Did he want her to confront him? Probably not. If he had he would have just called her into his office and given her a good bollocking. It wasn’t like he hadn’t before. No, he just wanted to know that she knew that he knew. Honestly, following his logic made her head hurt.

She was tempted to throw the ugly, bucket hat in the bin. On the other hand, it was a sturdy hat at least. It would keep her hair dry even if the wind blew it in under the umbrella. No need to throw away something useful. To that end, she hung it on her coat rack. At times during the day, she would glance at it and smile softly to herself. She thought, maybe, he might just be a little proud that she had found her way to his house. Not that he’d ever admit it, and she would certainly never mention it.

PS:

next of kin, all goes to her in the will — That’s all 100% true.

We know, they know, he knows, even Diana knows

[thanakite]

You know, the scene where Maddie and Steb walk up to Vi and Loris and Maddie knows who Vi is and then lies about how she knows who she is? It's a very interesting scene as literally Maddie, Steb, and Loris all act sketchy in that moment

If Steb or Loris had instead been Ambessa spy you could literally bring up the same moment as a hint that they were a traitor/spy

Maddie's I've already addressed (in this post and in greater detail elsewhere)

Steb's is the least obvious, but to be fair a good spy, would probably not be drawing attention to themselves, but he like refuses to talk to Vi despite the fact that Vi directly looks at him while asking him a question, and while he stands there stiffly and all proper he's very clearly listening to everything despite the disinterest showing on his face, and really the best thing for a spy would be having a chatty partner who can draw attention and ask questions while you just build up your arsenal of knowledge

Loris is the one I'm most curious about though in this scene, because it's a fairly obvious thing to the audience but not to Vi, and it's unclear why he did this, which is that he's very clearly listening in as Maddie talks to Vi and seems curious about what is being said, but when the conversation is over and they need to start making their way to the Memorial, he pretends to be asleep still and as if he wasn't listening

Was it just about not invading the conversation or making Vi think she had to talk to him about what was said? Was it that he didn't really care to have the energy to participate and didn't want to explain why after the fact? Like why do this? And really, was it even necessary? Vi doesn't look at him to check if he was awake or not before shaking his foot to "wake" him, he could have just gone with that woke him up and sat up to get going right away, but instead he plays up still being a sleep and makes Vi work harder to "wake" him and it's truly just like "Why?"

I SO wish we had more episodes as then it maybe would have been addressed, but instead I'm just left with an itch at the back of my brain about it

Were they trying to make sure it wasn't obvious Maddie was the spy/traitor? Did they not decide on who the traitor was going to be right away? Was this just some innocuous thing that was supposed to just be forgotten but accidentally ended up looking sketchy as hell?

¯\_(ツ)_/¯

We may never know

[actual-changeling]

i wish i could say something smarter but i have watched this scene so many times my brain is literally fried plus my sleep meds are kicking in hard

just. look at his reaction when crowley says you idiot, we could have been US. for the first time during that entire conversation, possibly for the very first time ever, he realizes what exactly crowley means by that.

the entire time they have been talking past each other and misunderstanding what the other is saying. but now? after crowley brought up the nightingales? told him we could have been us like it means something, like it's everything - and it is. to him, it is everything. aziraphale is everything.

all his anger just fades away completely for a moment when the realization hits.

he is looking straight at him, and while he can no longer see crowley's eyes, he still knows him. he can still read him. the pain is so clear in everything crowley is saying, written across his face and practically dripping from his voice.

it's the cliche oh moment. it's the you love me? me? that's what you have been saying all this time?

and while crowley has had a lot of time to come to terms with that fact, aziraphale is still struggling with their entire presence on earth and who they are, deep down. he is overwhelmed, he doesn't know what to say, fuck, he practically gave up on crowley and was ready to let him walk away after running after him the first time.

the tears in his eyes hurt me and once again michael sheen can be written down as my cause of death because this is a handful of frames carrying so much MEANING it kills me.

then he turns away, turns to his LEFT where crowley should be, trying to hide his face and tears in the emptiness he left behind because that's all he has now - his shadow. a gaping hole where his crowley should be, and for the first time he clearly understands what it means to be his and to have someone else.

i love you. that's what he was about to say.

i love you. i love us.

and then there's the part neither of them says because they are too caught up in what they don't have to take a proper look at what they are.

i have loved us this entire time.

they have never needed anything but each other but both think they're not good enough for the other the way they are, that they need to fundamentally change to be worthy of that love.

and once more, they are both wrong.

[artist-issues]

Anyone notice the Compare & Contrast in Cinderella (2015?)

Nothing major, just another reason why this movie is so good: going to talk about Ella/Kit v.s. Lady Tremaine/the Court.

You know how Ella, and more secondarily, Kit, have to hang on to their faith in “have courage and be kind?” And you know how the book-ends of the movie are “Ella saw the world not as it was, but as it could be?”

Okay obviously Ella has to have courage to withstand abuse, but I think more focus is placed on her kindness: she’s kind to mice, she’s kind to lizards, she’s kind to bratty stepsisters and kind to a super-horrible stepmother. And what’s the opposite of kind?

Cruel. Lady Tremaine is cruel, but it’s because she sees the world as cruel. Unlike Ella, who is kind and sees the world as it could be.

How do I know? When she returns from the ball, she (cruelly) points out the fact that the Prince is not free to marry for love, the game was rigged, and then watches Ella for a reaction. And when her girls say, “it’s so dreadfully unfair!” The Stepmother says: “Yes…the way of the world.”

That parallels what another character, presenting an obstacle and contrast to Kit, says in the movie: the King. When he learns he’s dying, he says: “Way of all flesh, boy.”

Why? Because the King—as wise, and noble, and loving as he is (certainly no villain) is succumbing to fear as he gets closer to death. Not fear for himself; the movie shows no hint of that. But he literally tells Kit, “I want to see you and the kingdom safe.”

He’s afraid for Kit. He wants Kit’s safety, and the kingdom’s, and he can’t do what a father should do when he passes; protect. So he’s insisting on a princess, and the divisions that the Kingdom might get, to make it stronger, from an advantageous marriage.

That’s a great foil for Kit, who is kind, but is even braver than he is kind. He’s not being abused, like Cinderella is, but he is about to face a world where he’s got everyone’s fate riding on his shoulders—alone—without the loving father he’s always had. He has to become his own man fast, and defend what he believes in…

…no matter what’s “done.” No matter what’s proper, and no matter what everyone else thinks.

You have the Prince who must be courageous when even his own father is beginning to fear, and you have Cinderella who must be kind even to those who are cruel to her. It’s awesome.

But then, that whole idea of perspective comes into it.

The Stepmother is cruel because she has experienced what she believes is life’s cruelty.

She’s arguing with Cinderella in the climactic scene, explaining that her first husband, whom she loved, was taken from her—and then so was her second, who never loved her as much as he did his daughter, who is so much more beautiful than her own—and all the opportunities for hope that she had expected to come with him. Lady Tremaine thinks the whole world, all of fate, is cruel.

She’s been subjected to hard circumstances—the first thing the audience gets to learn about her is, “she too had known grief.”

Ella’s stepmother has had hardships—just like Ella. She lost “the light of her life.” She lost her second husband. She’s snared in debt, her daughters are mean and (by her own admission) stupid, and she doesn’t even like the house she lives in with them. She’s let her circumstances twist the way she sees the world. Now she believes everything comes at a price, and one that the world is just cruel enough to wring out of you.

Ella, on the other hand, has known even greater grief than her stepmother. We watch her lose her mother, her father, her dignity, and even (briefly) her faith in the course of the movie. By the time she has that conversation with her stepmother, she’s also apparently lost the chance to ever see the Prince again. But does she let it change the way she looks at the world? No!

She keeps seeing the world as it could be. She won’t let her circumstances change what she has faith in; that love is free, courage and kindness have power, and will carry her through all of life’s trials. And the characters that change the way they look at things—the ones who are willing to, like Ella, see the world as it could be instead of as it is, find it to be true. Look at the king!

We know (from what the Prince says: “the wars have brought sorrow on us all,”) that he’s seen hardship. He’s seeing how fragile even his own life is; it’s coming to an end. He has every reason to be afraid for his son’s future when he’s not there to help him.

He’s thinking, “the way of all flesh is to die.” And he’s hoping that by convincing his son to marry a princess, he and his kingdom will be safer. Safety, safety, because he’s afraid for Kit.

But what happens? He meets “the mystery girl,” who is, by definition, unknown, unsure, and unsafe. Clearly Kit is besotted with her; she bumps into him, then makes a darling little speech about how good and brave Kit is and how much he loves his father. And then Kit, who learned to verbalize it this way from Cinderella, tells his father on his deathbed, “I believe we need not look outside our borders for strength. We need only have the courage and kindness to see it.”

And when he passes away, he does so by telling Kit that he should marry for love—even though the girl Kit loves may never be found again; even though, when she does, they have no guarantee it will strengthen the kingdom. But this is the King, acting on faith that those ideals his son believes in, and his son, himself, will be see things through. That’s him, having courage.

He stops seeing the world as dangerous, first and foremost, and starts seeing it as it could be, like Ella and Kit.

Comparing the King’s fear to Kit’s courage, and the Stepmother’s cruelty to Ella’s kindness, was such a good choice. And comparing the way these characters saw the world as dangerous and cruel, versus how Ella and Kit see the world, was an even better one. And they used lines like “The way of the world/way of all flesh” to do it.

This movie’s so good.

[daniclaytcn]

I have been telling my friends that season 7 is a bridge. Also, that Tim had a plan and as he wasn’t in the last 2, the story isn’t as he planned so he spent the whole season taking the characters there. Meaning healing from last trauma to add new traumas and building the foundations for the next season, foundations he thought were going to be build.

For example:

- Chim and Maddie fostering Mara is the bridge to Maddie and Chim having another child, maybe adopting this time.

- Hen and Karen will adopt Mara, and I’m not quite sure about the next step because I’m thinking about Captain Hen but I don’t think it’ll happen in the next season.

- Bi Buck we know what bridge that is even if some people don’t want to accept it.

- Eddie, being bad written, is the bridge to prioritising and putting himself first for them establishing boundaries with his parents. (Kind of Buck did). Also, to discover himself and what he really wants. Healing.

- Bobby to realise he’s a hero and that his works wasn’t over, especially now that Gerrard is back.

- Athena hasn’t been a proper cop this season and both times (Harry incident and whatever the fuck was the Amir thing) she has used her power so I think something will happen there that’ll make her stop and think.

The reason why the wasn’t room for development is because for some stories, it was the end (Chim being traumatised in his wedding by Doug) and for other stories it was the beginning (the whole episode 7x10)

i'm sorry, i don't want to sound like i'm being dismissive of your opinion because you're entitled to it, but i don't agree with any of this. to start with, it's too bad that tim couldn't tell the story he wanted to after s4, but that's not an excuse for him to come back two seasons later, throw a temper tantrum and ignore everything that's happened since that isn't convenient for him. lol. as for the rest, let's break it down:

this sets up for maddie and chim having another child...except we don't actually KNOW how THEY feel about it. they've never talked about having more kids, let alone fostering. we never saw any of this from their POV, we were just up and told that they wanted to do it for henren. which is a beautiful thing for them to do, but we don't know what they feel about it, if they've considered the logistics of having a second child, about jee having a sibling—none of it!

my issue with henren this season was that they recycled the plot of them having trouble with expanding their family for, what, the...third time? it's so tired and feels like misery porn at this point (and let's not even get into the uncomfortable racial elements around the way mara was written in 7x05).

something as monumental as the bi!buck arc should have been explored better. sorry. aside from his conversation with maddie, we barely got to see buck do any kind of serious self-reflection about this major part of his identity and his relationship with tommy, has, well. it's just been written in a very strange and off-putting way post 7x05. sorry to say.

whatever happened with eddie is really not the way to get him to prioritize himself! think about it. for the first time he prioritized his own grief in trying to get catharsis with kim. and it backfired on him spectacularly. he hurt his kid. he lost christopher. i don't think he's ever gonna recover from this guilt. if anything, what's happened will only reinforce his belief that he should never prioritize himself, ever. the thing with kim didn't lead to any kind of healing, it made everything a million times worse. he was quite literally punished by the narrative for his grief and it's quite sickening. and given how things were handled this season i highly doubt it will be treated with any kind of nuance or care in the next.

this has not been the first time athena has abused her power—only the most egregious instance of it—and it won't be the last. if abusing her power in s1 and harassing a teenage girl then didn't get her to stop and think, i don't think this will. sorry.

my entire point, is that most of the things you've mentioned here was incredibly last minute. madney fostering mara. the eddie/kim plotline. eddie's conflict with chris. the bobby and amir plotline. everything in 7x10 felt like an afterthought. why is it that bobby's life was in serious danger and yet we barely saw anything of him? why didn't we get to see more the firefam being worried over him and holding vigil? how is it that eddie and chris didn't even have a single conversation before chris went away to a different state?

you don't use all ten episodes of a season just to set up new plot points for the rest without developing or concluding the stuff already going on in a meaningful manner that makes sense. sorry.