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you-cant-spell-subtext-without · 3 years

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Continuing my dissertation on why Supernatural is about Destiel even when Cas is not in the episode, and here is my analysis of 11x18 - The Chitters.

I initially had this episode on a “never watching again” because the monster grossed me out so much, but then I realized that the writers were giving us a literal Dean/Cas as husbands mirror story by doing this

and hiding it in an episode with the most grotesque MOTW imaginable (seriously, name a worse monster than underground creatures who impregnate humans with their eggs via orgy and leave them in a damn cave; oh and cause them to shake, chitter, and have glowy green eyes. BRB, puking).

A little trickster moment in the beginning starting this episode with two brothers, and the eldest - Matt - dying in a *shocker* supernatural way, and the youngest - Jesse - then going on to dedicate his life to avenging his brother’s death. A lot of reviewers consider this intro to mean we are supposed to be looking for Sam/Dean parallels in the following narrative bEcAusE tHAt is WhAT thE boYS wOuLD dO, but I POSIT TO YOU IT IS NOT ONLY A 10000000 percent DESTIEL STORY, BUT ALSO THAT this is established in the very first scene - the conversation between Jesse and Matt in the flashback:

JESSE

It finally happened.

MATT

What? You didn’t get detention this week?

JESSE

Me and Jackie, we kissed.

MATT:

Okay, can I stop hearing about him every two minutes now? “You think he likes me?”, “Jackie looked at me. I-I think he looked at me.”

JESSE

He definitely likes me.

***I mean Matt’s comment - does this not immediately remind you of Sam “I am in constant Destiel super hell” Winchester?

For reference, here is Sam’s “I am in super hell please stop now” face:

**Also he LOOKED AT HIM?! What is 80% of Destiel if not subtextual pining and LOOKING. I don’t make the rules. Jesse is Dean. And Matt is dead. Matt’s death ENDS the “brother portion” of this story insofar as the parallel is concerned. (**please note I am not advocating for Sam to die. the parallel is just NOT about the brother storyline in this episode - there are plenty of other “mirrors” for the brother storyline, but this is NOT one of them).

We cut to the real Dean continuing in FULL RESEARCH MODE ACTIVATED because Amara has Cas at this point and he is panicking.

Was the red and black flannel an intentional wardrobe choice to mirror Jesse’s jacket? We will never know. (Yes. Everything is intentional. This is Supernatural. We hate it here. Also Cesar is in a KHAKI vest because KHAKI means THINGS in Supernatural for REASONS).

Also I love FULL RESEARCH MODE ACTIVATED desperately trying to get Cas back Dean. It’s real “I just started studying for my final the night before at 10 p.m.” energy. He’s refusing to stop to even look at Sam here:

Anyway, a few gross scenes of green eyed people, orgies, and a hilarious conversation about weed (or was it oregano?-

Jensen Ackles you slay me) later -

Jesse and Cesar save Dean’s bacon and the four of them end up in a bar chatting over beers. Here is where it is INCREDIBLY apparent that Jesse is a mirror for Dean (also I’d watch a bottle episode of these four hanging out doing regular every day stuff a la How I Met Your Mother or Friends).

JESSE

One of them took my brother 27 years ago.

[Sam and Dean look surprised. Sam turns to Dean, and Dean is speechless.

DEAN

[looks to Jesse] I’m sorry to hear that.

JESSE

I’ve been waiting years to come back and have this shot at them. So, I hope you understand, I’m gonna ask you two to take a step back from this one.

DEAN

[nods] Well, catch us up. Where have you guys been?

JESSE

In the woods, where the action is, looking for their burrow and saving your ass.

[Sam is slightly taken aback, but he gives a look of approval. Cesar scoffs.]

JESSE

What?

CESAR

Well, one of the reasons we’ve been holed up in the trees is because Jesse hates the town and everyone in it.

JESSE

Because they’re ignorant and useless. [turns to Cesar] They didn’t believe me 27 years ago, they’re not gonna start now.

CESAR

[sternly] It’s boneheaded not to be following leads in town.

JESSE

Hey, nobody stopping you from talking to the whole box of crackers.

[Cesar sighs and looks away.]

***You could replace “Jesse” with “Dean” and the lines wouldn’t need to change an iota to stay in the character. Cesar’s scoffing, the stern response, calling Jesse boneheaded, sighing, looking away exasperatedly - 100% Cas energy. I really don’t make the rules. Cesar isn’t anything like Sam, and he isn’t meant to be. This is not a brother story. THIS IS A STORY ABOUT TRUE LOVE DAMMIT.

Dean makes that red herring comment about them bickering just like brothers , then:

Which by the way is EXACTLY how Dean and Cas bicker. Hence why Sam is always in super hell.

I can’t find a better quality image of this montage, but I really wanted to bring attention to the EXPRESSION on Dean’s face:

***Sure, Dean. You’re curious about what it’s like to live with a hunter. Okay.

Also, whoever made this, you get it.

They start arguing on the next step - questioning a former sheriff, or going back to the woods to search for the creepy crawlies’ hidey hole.

JESSE

[sternly] We need to find the burrow.

CESAR

[patiently] Jess, we’ve been beating around the woods for two days.

JESSE

[stubbornly] That’s where they are. You saw the tracks.

CESAR

I can keep searching on my own. We’re losing.

****sternly-patiently-stubbornly <- it’s like a never-ending Destiel refrain. Cesar’s willingness to continue on what is purely Jesse’s quest for revenge so Jesse can move on is also so very Cas-adjacent. I LOVE A SUBTEXTUAL PARALLEL.

Anyway, then they split into twos, pairing Sam with Jesse and Cesar with Dean for the next few scenes. Lots of reviewers tracked this as a brother-brother (i.e. Sam is paired with the version of himself and Dean is paired with the version of himself) parallel, but THIS scene with Sam, Jesse, and the old sheriff SCREAMS otherwise:

JESSE

[angrily pushed Cochran down the chair] You son of a bitch.

[Sam moves forward to get Jesse back.]

JESSE

You knew the whole time! You knew where they were when everybody was suffering.

COCHRAN

[pushes Jesse off him] I was suffering too!

SAM

[pulls Jesse away from Cochran and tries to calm him down] Jesse. Hey, hey. Hold on. Hold on.

***EXCUSE ME, did he just say DEAN’S CATCHPHRASE. And how many times has Sam done this exact thing to Dean when he is in a rage?!? I DO NOT MAKE THE RULES.

ALSO something about THE JUXTAPOSITION of Cesar and Jesse in the following scene. This is very Dean with Cas quietly waiting for him to me.

A lot of creepy monster montage scenes and dead bodies later, the day is saved. Cue adorable husband exchange, and the news that Jesse and Cesar are going to retire.

SAM

So, uh, what’s freedom look like?

JESSE

Nice little spread in New Mexico. We’ve been paying on it for years. Set foot on it about … twice?

CESAR

Gonna raise horses. And if that goes bust, Jesse used to be an EMT.

JESSE

Oh, so now I’m supporting your ass?

[Cesar chuckles and looks at Jesse lovingly, before both men turns to the Winchesters. Sam follows the laugh.]

CESAR

It’s time to start living.

Also this SHOULDER touch. And it’s the left shoulder. (there is a great Casifer post out there about how Dean was thrown off specifically because Casifer touched his RIGHT shoulder, and Cas always touches his LEFT).

All I really need now is a FACE CUP, tbh.

You want more parallels? Recall that CESAR (aka Cas-adjacent) is the one who saves Dean’s bacon in the beginning.

Then he helps him get up off the ground. You know, as in he RAISES him from -

(JENSEN YOUR ACTING CHOICES WITH THAT LOOK ON YOUR FACE ILYSM)

Dean, realizing that he is watching an AU version of himself and his boyfriend/future husband:

Yes, hi, we are the same character.

Anyway, I will always and forever love this episode for showing us the ending Dean and Cas deserved (WHAT WAS THE REASONNNN) - settling down on a small ranch together in New Mexico. At least these two got their happily ever after.

ALSO, MANIFESTING

Maybe then Sam can finally leave super hell.

BONUS:

Sam: Couldn’t do it, huh?

Dean: [shakes head] No, didn’t feel right.

Sam: Yeah. I know what you mean. Two hunters who make it to the finish line?

Dean: Yeah, you leave that alone.

Saving this to my box of INCONSISTENCY TRASH DUMP FOR 15x20.

P.S. I am starting to develop a theory that the episodes we all like LEAST, and therefore tend to skip [or that have off putting plotlines/ don’t go with the general myth arc/creepy monsters/bizarre or even boring scenarios] are the ones with potentially the most subtext, and therefore the best underlying story line (so likely no Cas in the episode, random stuff like Red Meat, the creepy chitters monster that makes you want to cringe).

So at the end of the day, the subtext was always the real story anyway.

(OMG I JUST REMEMBERED THAT THE GIRL WEREWOLF IN BLOODLINES WEARS A FUCKING KHAKI TRENCH COAT THE ENTIRE TIME. AM I GOING TO HAVE TO REWATCH THE ALWAYS SKIPPABLE BLOODLINES NOW? And that definitely means I am DOOMED to rewatch the worst episode that ever was when I get to season 15. Dammit. What have I done?!?!??!?!)

#destiel #spn analysis #spn fandom #destiel parallels #spn mirrors #destiel mirrors #deancas #supernatural #spn recap #spn seson 11 #spn 11x19

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herstarburststories · 4 years

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Beautiful Ghosts [p1]

A/N: HAPPY BDAY TO ME, YAY! The first chapter of this hopefully mini series is for @alleiradayne 's 1k celebration! Congrats, hon. A mix of angst and two kinds of comfort here. I gotta admit that I started working on this months ago and kept going until I was satisfied with how it was going. Hope you guys like this one! Divider by @talesmaniac89 !

Summary: Something as tribal as death wouldn't keep you away from Dean.

Pairing: Dean Winchester x reader

Prompt: I’m not going to leave you. You’re never going to have to suffer by yourself again, I promise.

Characters: Dean and Sam Winchester, you

Rating: PG 13

Word count: 2404

As always, you are in Dean's arms when the two brothers enter the bunker after a hunt. There isn’t any sound to break the silence, no raucous laughter, or even a snarky comment about today’s slain monsters. Their steps are stronger than usual, and one breath is missing.

Of course, it’s different from your usual entrance. Your arms aren't tangled with Dean's and his aren’t wrapped around your waist or shoulders. You are in his arms, yes, but you are lying still in a state of lifeless despondency. To think, he was once hopeful, stupid enough to believe that he'd only be carrying you like this when he was marrying you.

Sam is awfully quiet. He can think and organize a hundred words into speeches in his mind, but nothing comes out. The younger brother feels like a kid during a class presentation too worried to say the wrong word and receive the wrong reaction. Therefore, he chooses silence, just like the other Winchester. They both make room for the grief that way.

It's a silent agreement that you are gone for good. The spell used to bring Eileen back is no longer available, and there is no devil willing to make a pact — not that one would allow the others to do so, after all.

Dean still considers it. More than once, more than a million times between the drive back home when you laid in the backseat with your guts on the car's floor and putting your body on the couch with more tenderness he’d thought himself capable of.

He would come back to hell just to save you, even if it meant not staying to see you thrive. The agony would be more bearable if he knew that for each scream of his, there would be a grin of yours.

He has no hope now. All Dean Winchester has is anger and unprocessed grief slowly metamorphosing into sadness, hate, and bloodthirst. Even when he killed the fucking werewolf right after he laid his teeth on you, it wasn’t enough. He needed to make someone hurt as much as he did.

It was supposed to be an easy hunt, but isn’t that life with this job? It's usually supposed to be a quick thing, and then you are choking your own blood like it's tequila.

“She is in a better place now.” Sam is the first to speak, utterly doubting that his brother would make a noise if he didn't first.

Sammy was always full of faith, but this time it made Dean furious. “You don't know that.”

“Dean.”

“Don't, Sammy. Don't even fucking try. You know who we are and what Billie thinks about us. Do you think (Y/N) won't get the same destiny as we will? Alone in the empty, going crazy for years, decades!?”

“We can find a way—“

“No, we can't! We all signed her death sentence the minute we asked her to move in. And she—“ Dean cuts himself off with the sharp knife of silence, staving any hope left with harsh thoughts. The living room is maybe the most similar it’s ever been to the old glory days now: men of letters used to get frustrated there all the time, usually with a bottle of whiskey and a dead body on the floor, full of holes from experiments.

The eldest Winchester wants to scream, throw a chair, break a lamp. He’d do anything to get this heavy sensation out of his veins, as if every single drop of blood weighs 500 pounds.

Still, he doesn't fall on his knees.

An inconsistently wry smirk consumes Dean’s face, warped with grief. “I had to put her guts back in her body, you know? To carry her in the car.”

He lifts his hands. They are stained red. Sam purses his lips together, trying to find something to say that would have helped him when Jess died. Nothing but an annoying little voice saying time comes to mind. It's gonna be hard, but they will make it. They always do.

Sammy doesn't tell that to Dean, though. He isn't ready yet. And neither is Sam to vocalize the words.

We are gonna be okay because we always do. And the dead bodies end up like frightening memories and nothing else.

That would sound too cold, like most truths for hunters. If Sam says those words, it becomes real. Not even the bloodstained picture of murder is stronger than words of farewell. Besides, you were his best friend. He had to recompose and convince himself that everything would be okay before he helped Dean. For once, he had to be the brother who shut all the turmoil in to take care of the other

“I'm sorry, Dean.”

And then, Sam does the only thing that he could think of as useful for making the ache bearable. He hugs his big brother.

Dean struggles to get away from the hold, even with every fiber of his being screaming to remain there. “Let me go! Sam, I'm serious. Fucking let me go!”

“It's gonna be okay, Dean.”

“Let me go, Sammy! Now!”

“You are not alone, Dean. I'm here. She will be okay, too.”

“Let me go! Let me go! Let me go!”

Until he finally gives in, collapsing in Sam's arms like that little kid in Kansas who didn't want to cry in front of his dad after seeing his mom get killed.

There is blood on Sammy’s favorite shirt now, but he doesn’t care. He just tightens his embrace around Dean while his brother is lost into racking sobs.

His grief is just as expansive as Dean’s, their ragged souls laced with a sickening kind of sweetness that can only show up when someone you love needs help. It squirms and crawls in their guts to make a home that sticks. It’s their tiny comforts— the good feelings always show up in defiance of the ache like a plant growing on concrete. They just have to get the energy to look for them.

Everything is still the way you left it in Dean's bedroom. He didn't put your clothes away. You left your book on the shelf and kept your perfume in the wardrobe. Your pillow is still scrambled as if you had left for a couple of minutes to grab a cup of water and would soon come back to snuggle up to him. Well, it could always be from the fact that he's holding onto that piece of cotton for dear life. If he had long nails, his floor would be a complete mess now.

He's glaring at the wall, mind trying to come up with ways to cope with the growing ache in his whole body. Yes, the books and poets and films speak fondly about heartbreak, but he already threw the last glimpses of his bruised heart on the fire, burning with your body to the point no one could say it was ever in his chest to begin with. What could he do? There's always a way for the Winchesters. If Dean thinks hard enough, maybe he can defeat death. Maybe he can have you back.

Dean puts the pillow away after another sniff. The smell of your pepper shampoo is almost fading — he shouldn't have hugged it. Nonetheless, the green-eyed hunter focuses on coming up with ideas, and it's a stupid, humanly behavior when his mind goes to what desperate people usually seek.

Dean was never a pious man. The fact his mother died while angels were too busy watching over him to help her didn’t do it any good. Yet in stolen moments like these, he, like most humans, would bear his soul in a peace offering to all the holy things he doubted. The Winchester never prayed for himself, though. Who would answer his cry for help? He never deserved to be saved. So, he put his hands together and closed his eyes for who he cared about. As the Layla woman who told him to have faith or Sammy as something scandalous happened. It was rare, but Dean did that sometimes. He used to hope someone was listening. He doesn't pray anymore, not even now. Because he knows someone is listening, and he doesn't care.

Can an empty room seem crowded? Yes, when touch-starving grief is piled inside, begging to be seen. Why can't he allow himself to feel it? Why can't he cry? Why can't he just stop using anger as a comfort? Dean doesn't know. It used to be easier to cry before. He'd say he's lost his emotions, but the all-consuming anger and his ferocious barks to keep the hurt is burning proof he isn't yet.

Y/N died, and it's his fault. Y/N died, and it's his fault. Y/N died, and it's his fault.

His nostrils are opening, the wrath that swaths him as comfortable as his own skin. It’s not natural enough that he doesn't feel the burn, and you know he's going to break again. Your Dean doesn't break easily, but when he does, it's in a million little pieces that he wouldn't allow people to help pick them up. He’d rather shove them under the bed with his childhood monsters or bruising his hands as he exasperatedly tries to get them all by himself. You know he's going to shift into a storm and start breaking things. You know it's a temporary morphine, and the sickness will remain in the morning.

That's the incentive you need to try harder, to flash yourself into this plane of existence long enough to be seen. You force every fragment of yourself and light and whatever other pieces you are made of now to appear. To be heard. To show Dean he isn't all by himself again.

An image starts glitching in front of him. It’s rapid enough for Dean's reaction to come as a frown and his hand to snake around to the gun at the hem of his pants.

And then, he blinks and a heart-stopping joy hits him. He can't believe the unbreakable heaven that he's being blessed with. Every feeling that should be burrowed under his skin is fighting to come to the light, and God, he wants to. For the first time, he doesn't want to hold back because what was trying to come together finally is you.

You. You are standing right before his own green eyes. There is a soft look on your face. It’s laced with that pretty smile that’s always spread happiness to him as well. You are here, standing in his room, clean clothes and blood in your veins. Guts inside your body! He never imagined he'd be happy to think that.

Is this his heart? Oh God, it is. And it's beating. No, no. It's racing. His heart is working again and now he almost falls on his knees. The pain was never able to break him, but he had forgotten how strong happiness could be. He's relieved.

Dean's eyes burn when he looks at you. Maybe it’s because he’s too shocked to even blink or perhaps it is all the tears that were flowing. Who cares? That man would allow his entire body to collapse in flames if the smoke signaled you back home.

He takes a few steps, having the nerve to touch you — probably the most daring thing he has ever done. He is ready for you to dissipate, for that to be a dream, anything. And you don’t. You remain there. You don’t leave him too. Your usually warm body is gelid, but Dean doesn't care. It's an honest warning, yet he's happy to ignore those for once. You're here.

“Dean, I—“ Your voice. It's your voice saying his name. He recognizes the importance of a name now. For a brief moment, he's confused. What the fuck is happening? You purse your lips and Dean chortles in dismay, unable to discern his inner state of being. “I don't know what to say.”

“I thought I had lost you. I was so fucking scared, Y/N. I thought you were gone for good.” He's found the words for you, exhibiting his vulnerability so quietly. Your entire soul feels it— it's not true what they say. You don't stop feeling when you are dead. You start to feel everything deeper because after leaving your meatsuit, all that is left is your soul. And what's a soul but the patchwork of emotions? “I thought you'd never come back again. That I'd have to go on without you. I'm so sorry. It was my fault. I should have saved you.”

“No, Dean. Don't start self-loathing and all that. It wasn't your fault. What happened to us could've happened to any hunter. And if it happened to me, there is a reason for it.”

“A reason for you to be ripped apart?” He scoffs at your belief of fate. You always had a graceful heart in you, even after you met Chuck.

“I'm back, right? I told you I'd always be with you, and I'm here. Always.” You intertwine your fingers, and he watches your hands for a little while. While it’s difficult for him to grasp anything but pain nowadays, he accepts the rush of joy in his chest. Dean looks up, and you're still here, big eyes offering him a loving gaze. “I'm not going to leave you. You're never going to suffer by yourself again. I promise.”

He kisses you, and it feels like your emotions have finally found a perfect body to rest in when yours is a little bit tired — a place to call home. He kisses you, and everything is worth it. Because he kisses you. And you kiss him back.

Dean Winchester is a marvelous hunter. He should know that the cold his tongue experiences in your mouth while you two make out ferociously isn't quite right. You should feel fervid, and you are warm in every way of being but skin. He should pay attention to that. He should stop trying to make you come alive with love. Still, he can't bring his rational side to care. That man was always guided by emotion, anyway. What could matter more than you on his arms? Worries could be postponed because you did what no one else ever could.

You came back to him.

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olliepig · 3 years

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Centre Stage chapter 11

Many, many thanks as ever to the wonderful @willow-salix for her patience while I swore repeatedly about this and for her amazing betaing skills that then knocked it into shape.

As always, it’s also available on AO3 here.

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

Pausing for a second to centre himself, Scott pushed all thoughts of the rescue to the back of his mind, carefully tucking them away to deal with another day. It had only been a matter of hours since he had last been there to drop his bags off before going to meet Cat, but it somehow felt like a lifetime ago.

Taking a deep breath, he slid the key card into the lock and pushed the door open. A blur of movement caught his eye as he stepped into the room, and he just had enough time to brace himself when Cat launched herself at him, flinging her arms around him and burying her face in his shoulder.

Not sure what he had done to deserve such a welcome, he let the door slam shut behind him, grabbing her and pulling her into him, the warmth of her body beginning to counter the chill that had been bothering him since he had left the rescue site in the Alps an hour before.

“You’re freezing,” she shrieked, clearly thinking twice about her actions as she tried to wriggle out of his grip.

“Yup, but you’re nice and warm,” he responded, tightening his grip to prevent her from escaping and taking all her nice body heat with her. Usually, the adrenaline from a rescue was enough to keep him warm until a hot shower in the hangars back on the island could take over and heat him through but this time, the cold seemed to have permeated his bones and he wasn’t sure he would ever feel warm again.

Knowing that he was far too strong for her to escape from without resorting to underhand tactics, Cat softened, leaning into him and lulling him into a false sense of security as she slid a hand up under his jumper, his soft skin cool to her touch.

“Distraction isn’t going to help you,” Scott tried to inform her, the small sigh that he let out as she gently ran her nails down his back suggesting otherwise.

“I wouldn’t dream of distracting you,” Cat purred as he dipped down to kiss her softly. “I just thought of something that could help you warm up a bit.”

“I’m listening...”

“Well, they always say that exercise is good for that sort of thing,” Cat breathed, struggling to maintain her composure as he trailed kisses down her neck.

“They certainly do,” Scott murmured. “And what kind of exercise did you have in mind exactly?”

“This!” Cat cried, finding the base of his ribs and tickling him mercilessly as he yelped in surprise, struggling to get away while she hung on as best she could, his infectious laughter making her giggle helplessly.

Breaking free, Scott launched himself towards the bed, grabbing a pillow and lobbing it at her to stop the onslaught.

“Not fair,” he complained, his smile undermining the sincerity of his protests.

“What? It got you moving and I bet you’re not as cold any more,” Cat defended, trying not to laugh at his wounded expression as she held another pillow up as a shield, ready to defend herself in case of further attacks.

“You might have a point there,” Scott admitted, realising that he no longer felt quite so chilled. “But still, I call bullshit on those tactics. I can think of plenty of better ways to warm up.”

“I bet you can,” Cat agreed, raising an eyebrow and giving him a wink. “But you’re going to have to satisfy yourself with this for now I’m afraid. I ordered some dinner for you which’ll be here soon, and I think a nice hot shower would be much more effective in the longer term.”

“Spoilsport,” Scott grumbled good naturedly as he picked another pillow off the bed and half heartedly chucked it in Cat’s direction as she made her way back over to him. “Hello by the way.”

“Hello,” Cat murmured as she wound her arms around his neck, lifting herself up on her tiptoes to ghost a kiss over his lips. “Glad you’re back.” “Me too,” Scott murmured, dropping his forehead down to meet hers as the stresses of the preceding hours seemed to vanish. “Thanks for ordering some dinner for me. I’m famished.” “I thought you might be,” Cat smiled, glad that she’d been able to provide at least a little help. “It’s nothing massively exciting but it’s hot and nourishing so it’ll do you good. You still feel cold though so you should get that shower.” “I think I might,” Scott agreed, feeling the chill beginning to inch back into his consciousness as they stood quietly together.

“Off you go then,” Cat encouraged, dropping her arms and smacking him smartly on the ass as she moved away to pick up the scattered pillows. “Get yourself all nice and warm and then you can tell me all about the rescue when you're done.”

Something in the tone of her voice made Scott look up in alarm. Watching his reaction, there was a shrewdness in her eyes that he was sure hadn’t been there just moments earlier, making him wonder what she was thinking. Looking away quickly, he grabbed his clothes from the wardrobe and hurried into the bathroom, keen to get away from her unwavering gaze that seemed to strip him bare without even trying.

Watching him go, Cat shook her head slightly. It was no wonder she hadn’t picked up on anything being wrong, she thought. He had seemed his usual self right up until she mentioned the rescue, and even then, if she hadn’t been looking for it, she doubted she’d even have spotted the momentary discomfort that skittered across his face before he returned it to its usual calm.

Her conversation with Selene had turned up a lot of surprises, none of which were pleasant, but what had shaken her the most was how well he had hidden them from her. Trust was so fundamental to her that discovering that he had been hiding things had sent a flash of anger through her, but the hour she’d had to let the revelations sink in had allowed her the space to realise that there was a world of difference between lying and simply neglecting to mention things.

Well, he wasn’t going to get away with doing either, she thought, as she straightened the bed back out and picked up her book. She was going to make damn sure he was honest with her about what was happening because this time, he had no choice. She already knew.

-x-

“Feeling better?” Cat asked as Scott pushed his plate away, having made short work of the burger that had been waiting for him when he had gotten out of shower.

“Much,” he smiled as he pushed his chair back, pausing to give her a grateful kiss before flopping down onto the small sofa that sat in a corner of the room. “Thanks again for this,” he added, gesturing back to his empty plate. “I don’t know what I’d do without you.”

“You’d be colder and hungrier, that’s for sure,” Cat laughed, settling herself beside him and handing him the glass of water that he’d left on the table. “But you’d also be on a tropical island right now too, so maybe the cold wouldn’t have been such an issue.”

“That’s a fair point,” Scott agreed, taking a sip before putting the glass on the little table beside him. “I think I’d rather be here though.”

“I bet you would,” Cat replied, one eyebrow raised. Her tone was teasing, but when Scott met her eyes, he felt a shiver of apprehension run through him although he wasn’t entirely sure why. “So, how was the rescue?”

Cat had determinedly kept the conversation on neutral topics while he ate, keen for Scott to have at least a little downtime before he was faced with questions that she knew he would find uncomfortable, but now there was nothing to stop her. As the evening had worn on, her initial anger at finding that she had been left in the dark had subsided more and more, replaced by a desire to help in any way that she could, even if that was just letting him know that he was supported.

“It was fine,” Scott replied, finding himself strangely unable to meet her gaze even though he knew her eyes were on him, hating the secrecy that he was having to maintain.

“Just ‘fine’?” Cat pressed, trying to give him the chance to open up to her by himself. “You usually have a lot more than that to tell me when you get home. I assume you managed to get everyone OK?”

“Yeah, it was pretty simple in the end,” Scott confirmed, risking a quick glance up at her before looking around for something to fiddle with but coming up empty.

“So how did you do it? Was it hard to work out the best course of action? C’mon, Scott, you’re usually full of stories when you tell me about these sorts of things. Did something happen?”

“No, nothing like that,” Scott reassured her with a sigh, trying to buy himself some time as he picked his next words carefully. “By the time we got there, Dad had already been in touch with the authorities, so it was just a case of following the plan that they’d come up with and getting the climbers to hospital. Nothing more exciting than that.”

“If there were only a couple of them to rescue and it was that simple then it doesn’t seem like they needed you at all,” Cat observed, watching him carefully to see how her words landed.

“Maybe,” Scott conceded. “But it’s always better to be overmanned than find you need an extra pair of hands halfway through.”

“I guess so,” Cat mused, frustrated that she could see the logic in the argument despite knowing that they’d managed perfectly well when Scott had been on leave in the past.

“I know it was annoying today, but I can see why Dad wanted me there,” Scott bluffed, trying to disguise his discomfort by taking her hand and placing a soft kiss on her knuckle, attempting to smooth things over so they could move onto a safer subject. “You never know if a situation might change so it does make sense.”

“That's true, but don’t you usually wait til you get to the rescue site to make plans rather than finalise everything before you’re there?” Cat continued, watching him closely as she focussed on the inconsistencies in what he was saying based on how she knew they’d always worked in the past.

She could see in his eyes that he didn’t believe what he’d just said and wasn’t fooled by his bid to distract her. With the benefit of her new knowledge, it seemed painfully obvious that he was covering for Jeff, but instead of anger, the only question in her mind was why he wasn’t willing to tell her what had been happening and allow her to help.

“That’s how we did it before, but we didn’t have the benefit of Dad’s experience then, so things have changed a bit over the last few months,” Scott answered smoothly, wondering what had happened that made him so able to defend actions that, in all honesty, he was deeply unhappy about.

“And how do you feel about that?”

“It’s fine,” Scott dismissed, finding it very difficult to look at her as he found himself caught between his loyalty to his dad and the commitment he’d made to be completely honest.

When Cat didn’t answer immediately, he allowed himself a moment to hope that he’d gotten away with it for now. He knew he was going to have to tell her what was going on at some point and it wasn’t that he didn’t want to seek her support, but she had been so stressed about her upcoming performance that he hadn’t wanted to burden her with it until it was over.

Rolling his shoulders to release some of the tension, he felt the silence stretching between them in a way that it hadn’t before. It wasn’t their usual comfortable quiet, and he could see from Cat’s expression that her brain was working overtime.

She knows, a little voice in his head supplied unhelpfully, sending a cold rush of dread through him.

She never normally pushed him for information about rescues, but his guilty conscience knew exactly what she’d been getting at by the questions she was asking. He hated lying to her, but his loyalty to his dad was absolute and he couldn’t bring himself to actually admit what was happening. Not after pouring his heart out to her about his hopes for the future on the last night they were together before their fathers rescue from the Oort cloud.

“What did John mean earlier when he mentioned your dad?” Cat asked, changing tactics and going for the direct approach.

“Nothing,” Scott snapped, looking up in alarm as he made a last-ditch effort to avoid telling her what had been happening. The expression on Cat’s face didn’t inspire him with confidence that his plan would work, her raised eyebrow daring him to come clean.

“Really? Cos the way you reacted didn’t make it seem like nothing.”

Scott sighed, suddenly feeling very, very tired. “It really was nothing. Can we drop this?”

“No, we can’t,” Cat replied sharply, her refusal to leave it taking him by surprise. She didn’t challenge him often, but he’d discovered to his cost that when she did, resistance was futile as she was always holding a trump card of some sort. “I don’t believe you, and I know for a fact that there’s stuff here that you’re not telling me.”

“And how do you know that exactly?” Scott bristled, hating the fact that he was being called out but hating even more that he’d done something to deserve it.

“I spoke to Selene.”

“Oh.”

“Yes, oh,” Cat replied, doing her best to keep her voice steady as anger that it had come to this surged through her. “I’m your girlfriend, Scott, not some random person you hooked up with. When we agreed to make a go of this, we promised not to keep anything from each other, so you need to stop shutting me out. We’re supposed to be a team. I should not have to resort to calling Selene to find out what’s been happening.”

“You’re right,” he whispered, his head dropping as a wave of shame washed over him at the lengths that he’d driven her to by trying to protect his dad and maintain that everything was OK. “I’m sorry,” he added as he met her eyes, expecting them to be full of anger but instead only finding love and compassion.

Cat’s anger had evaporated the second she saw him visibly deflate as her words hit home, and by the time he looked back up at her, she was calm again, wanting only to help in any way she could. Needing a physical connection between them, she shuffled along the sofa, tucking herself in next to him and wrapping her arms around him, pulling him into her as she placed a gentle kiss on his forehead.

“I might not be able to solve anything,” she whispered softly, resting her head against his, relieved to find him leaning back into her, “but I can listen.”

In fits and starts, the whole story poured out. Cat listened in quiet sympathy as Scott confirmed what Selene had already told her about how they had all been slowly pushed aside, their professional opinion counting for nothing against Jeff’s, leaving his role hollowed out and reduced to the barest bones. Feeling the frustration rolling off him, it took everything in her power to stop herself from interjecting and voicing her opinions on the matter as he described the times he had been forced to defer to someone who didn’t have the experience of their new equipment and protocols that he did, slowly eroding his love for what he did, leaving him trapped in his duty to his family and unwillingness to challenge his dad.

“I just never expected it to go like this when he got back,” he admitted quietly when he was done, sagging into her as she rubbed gentle circles on his back.

“I know, but there’s no shame in admitting that things haven't gone the way you thought they would,” Cat replied reasonably, giving him a squeeze for support.

“I just didn’t want to let anyone down,” he sighed, sitting back and taking a sip of water before continuing. “I didn’t want to worry you either. You’ve been so stressed about these shows coming up that I didn’t want to burden you with it all.”

“I can understand that, and I do appreciate that you were thinking of me, even if it was a bit misplaced,” Cat reassured him as she shifted to face him, draping her legs over his lap.

“Truth is, it all started so slowly that I wasn’t even really aware of it,” Scott continued, wanting to give her some explanation as to why he hadn’t been honest with her about it from the start. “It was just little annoyances that didn’t seem worth mentioning that eventually built up into a big annoyance that’s been there in the background for a while. By the time it reached that stage, it seemed a bit late to tell you about it and I guess I thought I’d be able to handle it without you knowing.”

“And you were nearly right,” Cat smiled, stifling a yawn that she’d been trying to hold in for the last five minutes. “If it wasn’t for your reaction to the callout earlier, I still wouldn’t have picked up on it. Not yet anyway. But when you were a bit funny about talking about it, I started thinking back over things and a lot of stuff pointed to there being an issue there that you weren’t wanting to discuss.”

“You’re like a bloody bloodhound when you get a sniff of something being wrong,” Scott remarked fondly. “One of these days I’ll learn that it’s pointless trying to keep anything from you.”

“It sure is, especially cos you’ve got Selene to contend with too. You might as well just accept that you’ve got two people here who love you and who are gonna work together to make sure you’re OK.”

“It certainly seems that way,” Scott agreed with a wry smile as Cat yawned again. “I think it might be getting towards someone’s bedtime.”

“I think you might be right there,” Cat smiled, spinning herself around and using Scott’s leg as a hand hold to shove herself off the sofa. “C’mon then, you joining me?” “Try and stop me,” Scott grinned as Cat started peeling the covers back, the soft bed looking very enticing. “It’s been a long night all round.”

Exhaustion hit him as he finished the sentence, and a face splitting yawn was only moments behind, making Cat giggle. As they got themselves ready, he realised just how long a day it had been, starting on the island before taking in the sights of St Petersburg, a rescue and a difficult but necessary conversation.

“I’m so sorry, I kept you up and I haven’t even asked about how you’re feeling about tomorrow,” Scott apologised, as they stood together in the bathroom, fighting for space at the sink to do their teeth.

“Don’t be stupid,” Cat mumbled through a mouthful of toothbrush before taking it out so she could continue unencumbered. “There'll be plenty of time in the morning for me to tell you all about how I’m feeling, don’t you worry about that.”

“But I wanted tonight to be about you and what you’re about to achieve tomorrow and all that’s gone now,” he objected, struggling to shake the feeling of selfishness that was creeping over him.

“You needed this tonight and to be honest, so did I,” Cat told him firmly, rinsing her toothbrush and dropping it back into the cup that she’d designated for the purpose. “You know what I’m like. I couldn’t have focussed tomorrow if you hadn’t been honest tonight, so thank you. I love you and if something is bothering you then I need you to tell me.”

“Well, if you’re sure.”

“Absolutely. We can start again tomorrow, so let's get some sleep and if it’ll make you feel better, I’ll be the focus of all your attention in the morning,” Cat reassured him with a quick kiss on the cheek, leaving him in the bathroom to finish up before he could answer.

Dozing off later with Cat held securely in his arms, he realised that she was right. Even though he hadn’t wanted to talk about it, it had been the best thing for both of them, leaving his mind at peace for the first time in what felt like months. They were a team, and a smile crept over his face as he remembered that he had something very important to ask her in the morning.

-x-

“Surprise,” Scott cried with barely contained glee, flinging his arm out to direct her attention to his handiwork.

Peering through the cloud of steam from the shower that she’d just unleashed into the room, Cat took in the scene before her. The previously empty table was groaning under the weight of plates, each covered in a silver dome to keep whatever mysteries they contained hot. A large coffee pot and big jugs of water and orange juice completed the feast.

“There’s so much! This is amazing,” Cat exclaimed, hurrying over to investigate as Scott began uncovering the plates, revealing portions of all her favourite breakfast items.

“Don’t worry if you can’t eat it all though,” Scott added, taking the opportunity to place a kiss on her cheek on his way past as he continued to bustle around, wanting to make sure everything was perfect before settling down to eat. “I didn’t want you to go short and I wasn’t sure what the portion sizes were like, so I decided to treat it like our own personal buffet and just get a bit of everything.”

“Aww, thank you, that’s very thoughtful,” Cat smiled, “What made you decide to do all of this?”

“Well, I know you don’t like to eat very much before a show, so I wanted to make sure you’re all fuelled up for your big day,” Scott explained, pulling a chair out for her and offering a napkin with a flourish before taking his own seat. “Anyway, I wanted to make up for stealing your limelight last night so I thought this could be a nice way to start the day together instead of going down to the restaurant with everyone else.”

Cat couldn’t help but smile. His thoughtfulness astounded her every time and even though he had nothing to make up for, she very much appreciated the sentiment as it meant they got more precious time together. Wordlessly, she reached out and cupped his face with her hand, the roughness of the faint stubble on his jaw contrasting with the soft skin under his eye as she gently traced her thumb across it.

A small sigh escaped Scott as he leant into her touch, the worries of the previous days melting away as his eyes closed involuntarily. All he was aware of was the present and the woman in front of him who seemed to know exactly what he needed. Turning his head slightly, he captured her palm with his lips in a gentle kiss as he met her eyes, a smile creeping onto his face at the love he found contained there.

They stayed like that for a moment, transfixed by each other until the smell of bacon and a loud growl from Cat’s stomach finally broke the spell, sending them blinking back into reality. Flashing a smile at him, Cat was the first to move, surveying the feast before grabbing a slice of toast.

“So, how’re you feeling about the show?” Scott asked, breaking the silence as he began piling eggs and bacon onto his plate.

“Nervous,” Cat replied, not even looking up from where she was pouring herself a glass of orange juice. “But it’s Swan Lake so the day I don’t get nervous about dancing it, I’ll probably be dead. That would be like you not having that rush of adrenaline when a rescue gets called in.”

“Fair point,” Scott chuckled, reaching over the table to skewer a sausage with his fork.

“It’s been amazing though,” she added as she slathered a thick layer of butter onto her toast. “Getting to rehearse in the studios where it was first created has been incredible. There’s so much history here. I never thought I’d be lucky enough to do anything like this.”

“You’re not lucky, you’ve worked really hard and you deserve this chance,” Scott told her firmly, not for the first time.

“I don’t know,” Cat replied doubtfully. “I mean, I have worked hard and it’s not like I’ve not danced this before, but you should see the rest of the company, Scott. They’re all so tall and flexible. Their extensions are up around their ears and their port de bras are enormous but they’re also just so expressive. And then there’s little old me.

Cat paused for a moment, taking a sip of her orange juice as she collected her thoughts a bit.

“It’s definitely a style of dancing that’s very different to what I’m used to. And the stage is so big. I can see why they make their movements so huge because otherwise they won’t be seen up at the back of the auditorium but it’s so opposite to how I usually dance. I’ve always liked the little nuances but it feels like I’ve lost a lot of them in the process here.”

“OK, I understood maybe a third of that,” Scott admitted when it seemed like she’d run out of steam, glad to see that she smiled at his response. “But you said before that the steps are the same, so can’t you just do it your way? Surely that’s why they invited you here in the first place?”

“Up to a point, yeah,” Cat conceded. “I’ve had to adapt a bit because of the rake on the stage and just so that the people at the back can see everything but it’s hard not to be intimidated by them.”

“Are they making you feel bad?” Scott bristled, ready to run straight down to the theatre and set a few things straight if he got a hint that anyone was being nasty to her.

“Not at all,” Cat replied, placing a hand on his arm to reassure him. “Everyone’s been lovely and I’ll definitely stay in touch with a few of the girls, but they’re so technically impressive that it’s been hard not to compare myself to them. You only get to the top by being better than everyone else, so it’s drilled into us from a young age to watch and learn from the competition and it’s a hard habit to break, even when you know you’re not in direct competition with them.

“You don’t need to worry about me though,” she continued. “Despite how it sounds, I’ve loved every minute of this, even the challenging ones. What is it you always used to tell me? If you don’t push yourself then you won’t grow.”

“I can’t believe you still remember that,” Scott smiled, remembering all the times he told her those exact words as she worried about whether she was going to manage dancing new and more challenging roles in her early career.

“Of course I do. I tell myself it every time I have to do something that scares me. It’s pretty much become my personal mantra now.”

“Wow,” Scott breathed, feeling strangely touched that something he had said had stayed with her all those years, even after their breakup.

“So, is there anything you’re wanting to do this morning?” Cat asked, cutting through Scott’s reverie.

“Actually, there was something I wanted to ask you about,” he replied, his heart rate shooting up now that the moment had arrived.

“Go on,” Cat encouraged, her interest piqued by the way he had shifted in his seat, sitting up straighter than he had before.

“You know we have a charitable arm of Tracy Industries, don’t you?” Scott started, feeling strangely like he was in the boardroom, making a pitch to a group of investors. Given the nerves that were making his mouth almost unbearably dry, he sort of wished that he was.

Cat nodded in reply, her mouthful of omelette making it impossible to answer properly as she wondered where on earth this was heading.

“Good,” Scott nodded, taking a small sip of water to try and make speaking a little easier. “Well, your conversation with Virgil about funding for dance training, when he was at the theatre with Lily, really stuck with him, and he spoke to me afterwards about whether there was any way in which we could help.”

“OK,” Cat replied warily. She’d never seen Scott in business mode before and the total change in his demeanour from his usual relaxed self to consummate businessman took her by surprise and his formal language made her sit up and take note. It wasn’t that she didn’t know that he must do it at work, but he’d certainly never spoken to her as if he was giving a pitch to investors before and, while she thought she could see where he was going with this, she had no idea what it had to do with her.

“We ran some figures when we got home and, by increasing the budget a little, we reckon we can actually do something to help there.”

“Scott that’s amazing,” she cut in, delighted that her hunch had been right.

A burst of warmth spread across Scott at her response making him smile at the knowledge that, so far, she was pleased with his plan. That definitely boded well for the rest of what he was wanting to ask her.

“So,” he continued, trying to remember the carefully rehearsed pitch that he’d gone over in his head what felt like a million times. “Rather than just giving a one off donation to your old school or setting up a scholarship, we thought it would be better to do something more substantial that would be beneficial to more than one child. With that in mind, we’re planning to set up a charitable foundation that’ll focus on giving the widest range of support we can to young dancers who might not have the chance otherwise.”

“I genuinely don’t know what to say,” Cat choked, her eyes welling up slightly at the thought of the difference she knew something like that could make. “You should speak to Penny about it. She’d be really good at telling you the sort of stuff they might need.”

“Well, we could do that,” Scott continued, unable to stop grinning. “But Virgil and I talked it through and we’d both like you to come on board and help shape what help we can offer.”

“What?” Cat squeaked, her joy turning to terror at the thought of being responsible for such a big thing. “Me? But I don’t know anything about running a business.”

“You don’t have to, I’m not asking you to run it,” Scott soothed, his heart plummeting at the realisation that she wasn’t jumping at the chance like he thought she would. “You’d be there in an advisory role. We’ve spent a lot of time researching things and we think we’ve got a basic grip on it but you’re the expert here. You can shape this thing into whatever it needs to be in order to give the most help to the most kids. What do you say?”

“I don’t know, Scott,” Cat sighed. “I’ve never done anything like this. I don’t think I’d even know where to begin with working out how to make it work.”

“And that’s why I’m here,” Scott encouraged, reaching over the table to take her hand and giving it a reassuring squeeze. “We’ll do it together. You tell me what the kids we’re trying to help might need, and I’ll make it happen.”

“Well, I guess it could be OK,” Cat mused, possibilities starting to crowd into her head now that she knew she wasn’t being asked to step entirely out of her comfort zone. “The obvious thing would be some help with fees and uniforms. Oh, and shoes. Shoes are a big one, especially for the girls.”

“See, that's exactly the sort of thing we need you to tell us,” Scott encouraged, letting himself breathe again now that she seemed to be warming up to the idea. “I know you go through a lot of them but I didn’t know it was a problem for everyone.”

“Yeah, you go through them constantly while you’re training too, and they’re not cheap,” Cat replied, her mind working overtime now that she was thinking about it more clearly. “Maybe some coaching for kids if they’re wanting to go to full time ballet school too. It’s not something everyone can afford but it makes so much difference.” “Again, that’s not something I’d have thought of. You’re a natural at this.”

“I wouldn’t say that,” Cat deflected, a tell-tale heat rising on her cheeks at the compliment. “I’m just thinking of what I wish I’d had and going from there.”

“And that’s exactly why we want you to work with us on this,” Scott implored her. “Think of the difference you can make to other kids coming from a similar background to yours.”

“OK,” Cat declared, sitting up straighter and holding out her hand to shake his. “I’m in. I don’t know anything about business and I’ve never done anything like this before, but your old mantra still stands here as well as it does for dancing. If I don’t push myself, I’ll never grow and I’ll always wonder what I could have done if I’d taken this opportunity.” “It’s a deal,” Scott beamed, taking her hand and shaking it much more vigorously than he’d have dared if it had been a business associate. “Welcome on board, Miss George.”

“Why thank you Mr Tracy,” Cat giggled. “I look forward to working with you.”

#Scott Tracy #catriona george #thunderbirds fanfiction #thunderbirds 2015 #thunderbirds are go

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for-i-am-dying-of-such-love · 4 years

Text

you know, where I'm headed, there'll be trouble...

...Ok, but can we talk about Sins of the Past?...

I’m not usually a fan of pilot episodes. Even the ones for my very favourite tv shows. They don’t tend to age well, hardly ever look like the shows they will become, and often suffer - like many First Seasons - from a laundry list of Unfortunate Things: actors still unsteady on their character’s legs, inconsistencies in plot and pacing and motivation, secondary characters that are too one-dimensional, low-budget wardrobe and set design. It takes time for a show to settle into itself and then a little more for it to evolve. So, it can be tough to revisit pilot episodes - awkward and maybe a little cringey.

Surprisingly, though, that’s not really the case with Sins of the Past. I say ‘surprisingly’ because the first episode of Xena Warrior Princess automatically starts out at a disadvantage. It’s a mid-90s, syndicated, genre television show, so it already contains a lot of elements that are fundamentally at odds with our modern sensibilities regarding visual storytelling. Coupled with the fact that it’s the first episode too? Well, you’d expect that it would feel dated and silly and trivial, but it doesn’t!

It’s actually kind of a joy!

Don’t get me wrong, the episode isn’t perfect. The visual aesthetics feel very late last-century, and the social mores of the mid-90s means there’s a woeful lack of kissing between Xena and Gabrielle (yes, even this early in the series, YOU KNOW YOU WANT TO SEE IT TOO, DON’T BE COY), but the storytelling holds up remarkably well. And, as far as first episodes go, it does a brilliant job of laying the groundwork for what the show will ultimately become: the Greatest Love Story Ever Told. Not just on tv. Ever.

Yeah, I said what I said.

On the surface it sets up the series’ two most obvious narrative arcs. Xena’s journey towards forgiveness, redemption and self-love. Gabrielle’s daring first steps into a world of adventure, heartache and self-discovery. But nestled in there too - the interstitial tissue connecting the two - is the show’s third, and arguably most fulfilling (and surprising?) storyline: the slow and magical weaving together of Xena and Gabrielle themselves. Their lives; their journeys; their hearts. And, ohmygod, it’s so fucking amazing and epic and lovely and the Greatest Love Story Ever Told.

So, let’s talk about where it all began. Let’s talk about SotP. Only, where to begin?!? There are so many moments worthy of exuberant and detailed praise. I have prepared a list:

Like this moment here. This glorious moment of first meeting...

Source: xenagabrielleforever

When Xena first lays eyes on Gabrielle. And she’s immediately struck by the sight of this farm girl - brave and foolish - who throws herself at Draco’s men in exchange for the safety of her fellow villagers. And I swear in that moment you can hear the rusty hinges on Xena’s heart creak slowly to life in knowing anticipation, as Gabrielle unwittingly takes a chisel to Xena’s defenses.

Or here. When Xena lets herself be distracted...

Source: hyxenagabrielle

The Warrior Princess. Confident and sure and untouchable. Completely disarmed by some young thing in some podunk village somewhere. Completely at the mercy of soft green eyes and youthful round cheeks and strawberry-blonde hair. Mesmerized by the tickling sensation of recognition as it cascades across her body when their eyes finally meet and hold.

Or, this gift of a scene. When Gabrielle wants so desperately to tag along with Xena.

Source: jadedownthedrain

And the entire time she might as well have a neon sign hanging above her head that flashes ‘Only Gay in the Village!!!’. Not that Xena isn’t immediately aware of this fact. She knows precisely everything she needs to know about this girl sitting in front of her. She knows it deep in her marrow. A long forgotten instinct dancing and swirling to life in the sleepy valley nestled between her lungs.

And here, just a few heartbeats later. When Xena pretends to act as if she doesn’t actually want Gabrielle to tag along.

Source: xenagabrielleforever

Only she does. Desperately. Except, she doesn’t know what to do with that feeling. So she drapes it in casual indifference and accessorizes it with empty threats, all the while secretly hoping that this inscrutable farm girl understands, is up for the challenge, feels the undercurrent too. And Gabrielle does. She tastes it on the air. Her blood is buzzing with anticipation. Make her mad? Of course, that is exactly what Gabrielle wants. No, not the ire, but the feel of the thrum that will course through Xena’s veins when her heart is set to pounding and her chest to heaving. Gabrielle wants to wield the mallet. Wants to see the fire in Xena’s eyes directed squarely at her. Wants to know the intensity of Xena’s scrutiny. She wants all these things very much. Even if she doesn’t quite know it yet.

Then of course there is this scene. When Xena is raw and vulnerable and exposed…

Source: xenagabrielleforever

And Gabrielle just steps from the shadows, like sunlight slicing through a storm cloud. Like her heart is saying: ‘I’ve been whisperin’ to you through the ether, listenin’ to your cry.’ And goddamnit, if they haven’t finally found each other again. This is a fucking homecoming! Of course I wanna talk about it!!!

But then there’s this. These two fools are already in love, can’t you see?!?

Source: hyxenagabrielle

But they’ve always been in love and they’ll always be in love. It’s muscle memory, the way one holds the other’s gaze. The smile that forms on their lips. The warmth that colours their cheeks. The pull, the pull, the pull. The inevitable surrender. The glorious fall. And somewhere back at the beginning of time and somewhere in the future when it all ends and here in this moment they just fucking know: ‘You were whisperin’ through the ether, letting me know you’re mine.’

All these moments. All these things. All of it, I want to talk about all of it. And maybe one day I’ll have more to say. But, right now I want to talk about Gabrielle’s prognostication skills.

Source: xenagabrielleforever

I’m being serious, though. I know this scene was played for laughs - Gabrielle says ‘do her’ and everyone giggles like a fifth-grader. It’s just an off-hand comment that Gabrielle tosses out there to get herself out of a tricky situation. Just a bit of inconsequential fun. Only it’s not inconsequential at all, it’s fucking prophetic.

And I’m not just talking about the fact that one day Gabrielle will actually get close enough to Xena to ‘do her’ - yes, that kind of do her, and ohmygod, just...

<ASIDE:> THIS BEAUTIFUL ASSHOLE SHOW KNEW EXACTLY WHAT THE IMPLICATIONS WOULD BE BY USING THAT LINE, THE SHOW FUCKING KNEW AND IT WENT THERE ANYWAY. GLEEFULLY. LIZ FRIEDMAN, WAS THIS ONE OF YOUR SCRIPT NOTES? LIZ? LIZ! LISTEN LIZ, IT’S OKAY, YOU CAN TELL ME. BECAUSE IT WAS A CHOICE, AND BOY WAS IT. A. CHOICE. SO, FAM, DON’T LET ANYONE TRY TO TELL YOU THAT THE SUBTEXT WASN’T THERE FROM THE BEGINNING. IT WAS THERE AND IT WAS DELIBERATE, AND YOU CAN FIGHT ME ON IT. </ASIDE>

No, I’m talking about the fact that this silly little throw-away scene both perfectly distills the essence of Gabrielle’s character - clever and unstoppable and pure-of-heart - and encapsulates the show’s most tender truth. And that is this: Gabrielle, the unsuspecting and innocent farm girl from Poteidaia will do the one thing that certainly no man - though handsome and strong and commanding - and, arguably no one ever, has been capable of doing. She’ll slip past Xena’s defenses and completely disarm her. Not physically, of course, but emotionally. And not to do harm, but to love unreservedly. Through all the changing seasons of their lives. For all of time. And the fact that this very poignant and romantic and fundamental truth is draped in humour and accessorized with innuendo makes it all the more perfect for a show that, on its surface, is campy and sexy and ridiculous, but at its core is tender and earnest and profound.

But, ohmygod, is it ever a wild ride. And Gabrielle, sweetie... you precious baby gay, giddy the fuck up.

Source: hyxenagabrielle

UP NEXT: Chariots of War

#xena warrior princess #xena #gabrielle #xena and gabrielle #xena rewatch #season 1 #s01e01 sins of the past #SotP #xwp #otp: for i am dying of such love #let the gay begin #diablog

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intothewickedwood · 3 years

Text

Once Upon A Time Rewatch: 6x11 Tougher than the Rest

August, I love you but please help this kid.

Oh, maybe he did?

That lady looks a lot like Umbridge. That reminds me, gonna watch Order of the Phoenix for the gazillionth time tonight! It’s probably my least favourite Potter movie apart from the end but my literal ocd ass has gotta watch them in order. It’s one of my favourite Potter books though. I love how long it is! 

I digress. Back to the rewatch!

So, is Emma technically Wish Henry’s mother as well, since she is also Wish Emma? 

Yes, why didn’t he age?

There’s no time to wake up Snow, Killian. The hooded figure is out there right now!

Oh! Charming’s wish brought Gideon there!

Poor Gideon is so traumatised by the Black Fairy. I don’t remember/understand why she was so cruel to him. I thought her goal was protecting Rumple. So why torment her grandson?

I don’t think that’s how being a Savior works. I don’t think killing the Savior would make Gideon a Savior. Surely that goes against everything a Savior stands for.

Does Emma still have the memories of her life in the Wish Realm? 

Oh! She does! That’s a lot of jumbled up memories in her head. Does she have memories from the Heroes and Villains world too?

How the hell did Regina have time to right that long ass note in the two seconds she was off camera?? Magic, I guess.

Regina should have used a glamour spell.

How did that tree manage to survive after it was cut down for the first wardrobe? Must be magic! 

Wish Hook! 

Gideon, you angsty boy.

Wtf Rumple!! Why are you hitting your son?! He would never have done that to Baelfire. It seems kinda out of character. He’s not gonna win Gideon’s affections or get him to listen to him that way.

I wonder if the Wish Hook storyline was planned yet.

Okay, so a bit on my thoughts on the Wish Realm and Wish Hook plot holes: When the Evil Queen made the wish on behalf of Emma that supposedly created the Wish Realm she must have made it many years in the past as compared to the Wish Realm we see in 6x10 and 6x11. What I mean is, when the Evil Queen makes the wish, Emma not only ends up in a different realm, she ends up at least 10 years in the future. Why at least ten years? The only way the Wish Realm could have been created by a wish is if it was created before Alice was born. The only way to make that the case is if Emma created that place at least 10 years before visiting because Wish Hook looks older than he did when he was forced away from Alice in ‘Knightfall’. The reason the Wish Realm has to have been created before Alice was born (I’m still not entirely convinced it didn’t always exist) is because Gothel is Alice’s biological mother and Gothel is not from the Wish Realm so Alice cannot have been created by a wish. If Wish Hook was created by a wish, then that wish had to have been made at least 10 years before the events of 6x10 and 6x11. And Wish Hook likely did a little time travelling himself. I think Emma travelled 20 years into the future and Hook travelled 10 years into the future. I explain this more in my s7 timeline meta here.

Wish Pinocchio: “I’m sorry you put your faith in me, Emma. I hope you never make that mistake again.” Wtf Pinocchio?! That was so ominous. What does it mean?! Does she ever put her faith in any version of him again?! Is he suggesting he’s been shady in all realms all along??

Is it bad that I prefer this Robin Hood to the one Regina fell in love with? He’s kind of what I wanted from the other one, who started off a bit like this, someone a bit more villainous to pair with Regina. It makes him more interesting.

What happened to Wish Belle is so awful. 

That is an inconsistency. A true love’s kiss on the forehead should have awoken Snow and made David sleep, like Emma’s true love’s kiss to Henry’s forehead woke him.

Regina certainly seems to see this Robin as real, going so far as to care about his happiness. Why couldn’t she have given Wish Snowing the sane courtesy?

Regina came just in time. 

More than two can go through this wardrobe?

Do they ever explain why this Robin hasn’t aged? Is he using the six-leaf clover as a glamour? But then there would have to be a Wish Oz. Maybe it is because part of Robin’s soul lives on in Wish Robin as they suggested. That’s cool. They are pretty different though so it’s hard to believe.

Omg wish Pinocchio is right! Emma should have left the sword there! It’s unlikely Gideon would be able to find it! Why didn’t you Emma?

I wonder if Regina thinks the reason Wish Robin didn’t come through the wardrobe at the same time of her was because he wasn’t real or because he just didn’t wanna come.

Storybrooke looks huge from up there.

I told Emma she should have left the sword!

I love sword fights though! 

Uh oh! He’s got the sword!

Why does Gideon always feel like he belongs in Star Wars to me? I don’t even know, I know very little about Star Wars, he just looks like a Star Wars villain from what I’ve seen.

Use your magic Emma!

That was cool! Gideon’s magic is so pretty.

She broke the sword!

“Daaaaad, I don’t need your help.” hehe. 

Isn’t it a bit weird to kinda grab an alternate version of your dead significant other to potentially be your replacement boyfriend? Idk, feels a bit weird but if that’s your jam, Regina, go for it, girl!

How freaking loud is that typewriter if you can hear it down the street, lol?

Oh, he did tell her to go to the police station as a kid.

Belle is so freaking done with everything.

My boy Gideon’s just having a tantrum at the clock tower. That poor clocktower’s been through a lot. 

Gideon say grrrrrr. 

#ouat 6x11 #6x11 tougher than the rest #ouat #once upon a time #emma swan #regina mills #ouat gideon #gideon gold #wish hook #ouat rewatch #ouat rewatch 2019

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johannstutt413 · 4 years

Text

(requested by calligomiles)

“Why are you dragging me out of the Doctor’s office, Gummy?” Istina grumbled, head still buried in her book. “I told you I was busy.”

“I know, but I want you to try something and I can’t bring it in the Doctor’s office!”

She gave her friend a curious glance. “Why not?”

“He said he throws up whenever he smells onions.” Gummy waltzed into the kitchen, depositing Istina in a chair, and greeted the other chef who was working. “Hey, Blue! Oh, did you need to move that tray I put out? Sorry!”

“It’s okay, Gumm...” Blue Poison looked up to continue forgiving her, but as she did, her eyes locked onto the other Ursan in the room, and something short-circuited in her brain.

The chef seemed unfazed by this. “Thanks for putting it somewhere easy to find, though! Alright, Istina, tell me what you think!...Hey, Istina? Helloooo?”

“Hmm?” She’d sat her book in front of her and completely engrossed herself in it. “Oh, right. What did you...” Much like the Anura whose eyes she’d just met, suddenly words failed her.

“Are you two okay?” Gummy looked from one to the other as she set a strongly onion-scented pastry-like thing the size of the plate itself.

Istina nodded. “I’m okay...Good afternoon.”

“Good afternoon.” Blue’s eyes darted to the side, hoping looking at the floor would help her face cool off faster. “Gummy, um, could you introduce us?”

“Oh, you two haven’t met? Istina, this is Blue - her desserts are a-ma-zing! Blue, this is the founder of the USSG and one of my dearest dearest friends, Istina!”

The advisor adjusted her chair so she could eat while looking into the kitchen. “It’s a pleasure meeting you, Blue. Is that your full codename?”

“Oh, no.” She shook her head, turning her attention back to pouring out the cupcakes she’d just finished making the batter for. “My full codename is Blue Poison, but I prefer people call me Blue. Not everyone does, even so...”

“Really? That’s rather rude of them. Gummy, this is really good, but I think you should try less onion next time. The Doctor would probably like this a lot.”

The chef nodded. “I’ll remember that for next time! Well, I’ve got to get to defender training, so I’ll see you later~”

“See you, Gum...Hey, wait a minute...Oh well. Are you baking for a special occasion, Blue?”

“Nothing in particular, no.” She settled them into the oven and walked over to the table Istina was sitting at. “I keep making things for people to enjoy, but only three or four people will.”

The advisor closed her book and cocked her head, her curiosity piqued. “Why wouldn’t people take free desserts?”

“They...They think it’s poisoned, because I’m ‘toxic.’”

“Because you’re an Anura who specializes in poisons?” Istina shook her head. “That’s simply unfair.”

Blue nodded with a sigh. “It is, but there’s nothing I can do to convince them...So, I bake for those who will eat. The Doctor, Gummy, and a few others.”

“Hmm...I’m sorry about earlier.”

“I am, too.” She blushed again. “It was just...I’ve never seen eyes like yours.”

She adjusted her glasses. “Oh? It isn’t an uncommon color for Ursus.”

“It’s not so much their color as their depth. They remind me of a crystal-clear lake - at a passing glance, such a lake seems shallow because you can see the bottom, but in truth it could be a quarter of a kilometer deep and you would only know when you tried to swim to the bottom...I was born near a lake like that. It was very soothing to sit by after a long afternoon.”

“That sounds lovely.” Istina took the compliment about as well as she could, considering it came out of left field. “I admit, your eyes tied my tongue as well. I’ve never seen another like them, and they suit you so well.”

“Oh, thank you...Um, am I keeping you from your book?”

The advisor shook her head. “No, I’ve read this one before. Do you read detective literature, Blue?”

“I’ve read a few, but not often. Most of my reading is recipe or research related.” Blue smiled. “Are you a detective, Istina?”

“I have the reasoning for it, and May would like me to be her assistant, but as much as I enjoy the novels...no, I’m no detective.” She looked down at her half-finished food as she said it, a dark cloud falling over her. A voice, a reaching hand stopped halfway, a moment with irreversible consequences...A choice, half-baked but firm as iron...Baked?

Blue Poison had left her to her thoughts; by the time she broke free of them, Gummy’s meal had a friend on the plate: a pink-frosted cupcake dotted with black orbs. “You seemed to be having a moment, and I didn’t want to disturb you.”

“I appreciate the sentiment. Thank you for your patience.” Istina confronted the dessert with an analyzing stare and a small smile. “It’s cute. You like pink, I see.”

“When I was young, I wanted to dye my hair a more normal color, but then I realized I would need to buy a new wardrobe to accommodate it, so I’ve grown to like it. If I can’t, I’m not sure who else will.”

She picked up the cupcake, looking up at Blue as she did. “I do. The pastel and your smile match quite nicely.”

“Do they teach flattery in those novels?” The Anura went back to blushing. “If so, maybe I should read a few. I don’t know how else I would match you.”

“If matching is a concern, I can wear a pink charm of some kind...Gummy didn’t do your baking justice.”

Blue blinked. “She didn’t?”

“I have never tasted a cupcake so perfectly balanced.” Truly, this was the sort of thing one would expect to find in Victoria. “The blackberries contrast with the cake and keep the sugary sweetness from being cloying without adding any untoward accent flavors, and there’s a citrusy note in the frosting that has a similar effect. On the one hand, I feel as though there are twenty or so different minor flavors, but on the other hand, they all serve to complement the cake itself and do so without intruding on its flavor or each others’. You’re as excellent a baker as Gummy is an Ursus-style chef...and sweet things remind me of better days.”

“Do you not enjoy being at Rhodes Island?” It was a sincere question, spoken with sympathy and genuine concern.

Istina shook her head. “No, I like it here, but...but there was a time I felt less burdened. Before my hands were stained red, before I knew how it feels to lose friends to war, life was much simpler. Of course, without those dark times, I would not have come to Rhodes Island...and I would not have met someone as sweet as you.”

“Oh my.” The Anura fanned herself.

“Sorry, I feel like I’m babbling on.” She finished the cupcake in three bites including the first, looking at the wrapper sadly when it was done. “Did you want some of this dish Gummy made? It needs to be warmed up, but I don’t think I can finish it myself.”

Blue took the plate and walked to the microwave. “Will the Doctor be expecting you back at some point?”

“Between the USSG and my studies, my time in his office is rather inconsistent, so I don’t expect him to come looking for me. After we’re done with Gummy’s ‘taste test,’ left to my own devices I would return to my room to finish reading...But if you’re not busy, maybe we can talk instead?”

“I would like that.” She debated for a moment mentioning something else, but decided against it for now. The microwave beeped, and after retrieving a second fork for herself she brought the now not-quite-rectangular dish back to the table. “Do you have a preference as to where I sit?”

Istina gestured to her immediate left. “Come as close as you like.”

“Funny you should say that...” The Anura moved a chair and made herself comfortable, leaving enough room for the Ursan to move her arms without interfering with each other while still being close enough to feel her presence next to her.

“Funny, you say?” She looked towards her as she dug in once more. “How so?”

Her first bite was delightful. “Mmm. If she and I are equals, I’ve never received a higher compliment. As for the proximity comment, um...You haven’t heard any of the rumors about me?”

“Now that you mention it, I think I may have. I believe I dismissed them as baseless hyperbole. They think touching you is dangerous, somehow?”

“Yes, that’s right.” Blue sighed. “Where I’m from, physical displays of affection are common - we greeted our coworkers with handshakes and our friends with hugs, held hands as we walked, only avoiding one another when not doing so might get other sick - but since arriving at Rhodes Island and displaying my abilities, no one feels safe doing so, and I...I miss it.”

Istina nodded. “I see. Based on foundless rumors and speculation?”

“I don’t know if they think I’m constantly exuding toxins or simply misunderstand my power, but I can’t say they’re entirely baseless. The primary component of the serum I coat my darts with is a derivative of a toxin I naturally produce. However-”

“You say you’re safe to touch?” The advisor reached with her free hand and took Blue’s. “I believe you.”

The Anura stopped her trail of thought and squeezed her hand. “I...You have no idea how much this means to me.”

“I didn’t realize how much it would mean to me, either...This is nice. Whenever you need a hand to hold, Blue, find me, okay? I’ll make time for it.”

“I...” She set her fork on the table and her head on Istina’s shoulder. “Thank you.”

The advisor likewise set her fork down and let her hand settle on her new friend’s head, gently playing with her pastel locks. She had plenty of time to get back to her book, but moments like this were far too precious to let slip through her fingers. This time, rather than see an all-too familiar face at the thought of that metaphor, she saw Blue smiling at her, holding out her hand.

Istina took it, and she promised herself she’d never let go.

#arknights #istina (arknights)#blue poison (arknights)#another pair i never would have devised on my own #so uh yeah #after this there's a lot of not-bear stuff #event will be over by the time we get back to them #but believe me #i'm gonna have some fics to write for myself when it ends...#arknights fic

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spellmanmortuary · 3 years

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To be fair Miner is a typical Halloween costume, Nick dresses like a normal person, don’t know how you can find Caliban’s clothes unless it’s the pac sun looking shirt. At least Part 4 can deliver Jock Nick and Cheerleader Sabrina costumes.

ok this ask made me crack open my computer so it should tell u how much i care abt fashion

but basically !! no one is wearing the miner look. the harvey costumes are the plaid shirt, the jeans and the sneakers with the boy next door hair + the brown leather jacket. so basically the look he’s had throughout the show’s run.

the problem is that nick and caliban don’t have noteworthy style. harvey’s isn’t exactly noteworthy or groundbreaking, but, it’s identifiable and he has a signature look going. like if you prop any dude dressed in the plaid + jeans + jacket combo next to a girl dressed as sabrina, you’ll know it’s harvey.

however: the other guys don’t have this kind of signature style.

take nick. in p1 his style ? mess. he had this schoolboy thing going ? like he was wearing the white button up shirt with the sweater and they had him wear that in the promo material for some strange reason. but then in p2 they found his groove and had him in the dark turtlenecks and all black outfits, which were honestly ?? great. but then for p3 the style said 😌 it was nice to meet u 😌 and they had a weird regression where they started putting him in the ill fitting jeans with boots but occasionally in the white shirts again ?? and like in my opinion his style throughout the 3 parts has been kind of inconsistent to the point where the Nick Scratch Signature Look is just. him shirtless in dark pants. which again, might be great for like character development ( which i’m not sure of either lmao ) but it isn’t great when you’re trying to build a costume.

as for caliban ? missed potential tbh. like i get that they had to have him in the whole hell attire but couldn’t they make it a bit more fashionable ?? like. even beelzebub has that great fun flesh crown and he has those fur coats that he wears with skull belts and stuff. i think that what went wrong with calibans lack of ~iconic style-ness~ is that they put him in this ugly ass vest without a shirt for most of p3. and his style was not cohesive at ALL. like. we had the vest thing and then we got this amazing romantic novel prince moment but then we got this 70′s looking ensemble that looks like it could have been worn by logan lerman in hunters. so tell me, caos wardrobe department, what is caliban’s style ?

in my opinion, it was wasted potential lol. like look at the fashion warlocks wear in ahs: apocalypse !!! i think that the show and even nick’s character could have been a lot more stylish if they had given him the same style he had in the first two parts for the third one, but in colors that went from dark to clear. like i know the show loves the 60s so why did we never get a short sleeved turtleneck moment ? we know gavin would’ve looked really good in one of those. we could have gotten a preppy striped cardigan with a black tshirt underneath. we could have gotten long black coats and blazers in interesting cuts. we could have gotten a tie moment. but no.... ill fitting jeans we know he’s short you don’t have to spell it out for us with those jeans that looked like he took them from harvey but had to fold the legs so they would fit him.

i love ambrose’s style but like it could have been a lot more fun and iconic. if they loved the psychdellic 70s menswear for him they could have leaned into it more and given him corduroy vests with funky print shirts/bellbottoms/funky colored blazers and big collars.

for caliban they could have given him a much more regal signature look, which would have made sense because he wanted the crown so bad it was natural that he would want to look the part. they could have given him a campy ass wardrobe with like. over the top embroidered shirts/some bejeweling/some faux fur and like. an actual hair look bc that just looks like sam combed his hair and showed up to set. some guyliner even.

because look, it doesn’t matter if they dress like regular people because if the character has great style that looks recognizable, people will want to dress up as them, like the euphoria characters, or buffy the vampire slayer, or even sabrina herself. sabrina has a ton of signature, identifiable looks and moments despite the wardrobe departments’ best efforts so people want to dress up as her. she looks cute, she looks fun, it works if you want to make it sexy or spooky or conservative or a combination of the three. you can pick the plaid skirt + turtleneck, the red peacoat, the cheer uniform or if you want to go all out, you can do the whole I AM THE DARK LORD’S SWORD thing. you can wear the red off the shoulder top from the promos or the black queen of hell dress. same goes for the weird sister’s dresses. they’re cute, relatively easy to copy, and they can be as fun and flirty as u wanna make them.

to be honest, to me the problem is that the style in caos is.... a bit messy. it’s confusing because characters look like they all came from different eras and their styles ( except ambrose, who stays pretty on brand with the 70s ) blend together in the most boring, print crazy, muted tones ( which. why??? they’re teenagers why are they always wearing autumnal colors ), sometimes they put the actors in things that are unflattering to their body types like sabrina’s valentine’s day ruched red dress atrocity that shit belongs to in a middle school spring fling dance or nick’s weird carnival canadian tux, and sometimes they mix eras? like with sabrina’s style, which inexplicably jumps from 60s to 70s but nothing she wears looks like what her aunts would have worn at her age so where and how did she even get those ?? were those like... her mom’s ?? if they were, why has the connection never been made ? it could have been great for emotional depth.

but anyway, the characters that we see on halloween or at comic cons are usually the weird sisters ( specifically prudence ), hilda, zelda, lilith, harvey, sabrina, and occasionally ambrose. this is most likely due to the fact that they have the more signature, noteworthy, recognizable clothes. the weird sisters have that one signature look and they ROCK it, hilda and zelda both dress like different kinds of stereotypical witches with identifiable hairstyles and are a fun friends/sisters costume, and lilith had that MOMENT with the demon face. harvey’s style is cute and consistent and pretty much timeless, maybe sometimes 90s inspired-ish. sabrina has an identifiable look with the hairstyle even if that wig is awful.

so yeah, that was my long way of saying that the reason why people aren’t dressing up as nick or caliban even if theyre in a couples costume with a sabrina is because those two have unidentifiable, non cohesive style.

caos could have been a fashion show.... could’ve brought 60′s/70′s inspo in fashion back... but for some reason it didnt rlly do that lol

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judestclare · 4 years

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。· . ˙ ♪ ⌈ kristine froseth + cis female + she / her + solo g + clairo ⌋ have you heard ? judith “jude” st. clare got signed by disclosure records two years ago ? they’re talented don’t get me wrong but i can’t believe it , they’re only twenty-two years old & some people go all their lives without making it , what makes them special ? it’ll be interesting to see if the fame & success go to their head because i hear they can be quite careless , pliant & disloyal . but that could only be the rumours because i’ve also heard they’re gregarious , free-spirited & warm hearted . i guess only time will tell .

&. hiii everyone ! i’m meredith, i’m nineteen, i use they/them and she/her pronouns. some more fun facts: i’m a libra, i’m from the est timezone, and really excited to be here ! under the cut you’ll find some #funfacts about the woman , the myth , the legend herself, jude st. clare !

quick facts:

name: judith victoria st. clare

nicknames: jude — do not call her judith, she hates it

age: twenty-two

date of birth: january 20th, 1998

zodiac: aquarius sun, libra moon ( read here )

gender: cis female ( she/her )

sexuality: bisexual

positive traits: open-minded, caring, fun-loving, free-spirited, warm-hearted, creative, adventurous, friendly, gentle, gregarious, bubbly

neutral traits: talkative, party animal, reticent, extroverted

negative traits: flighty, careless, disloyal, lazy, dishonest, flippant, easily manipulated/pliant, loud, facetious, unconfident, silly

tv tropes: plucky girl, hard-drinking party girl, the face, good bad girl

mbti: esfp, the campaigner ( curious, energetic, enthusiastic, good communicators, know how to relax, popular and friendly / overthinks things, too emotional, too independent, unfocused, little practical skills )

background:

jude was born and raised under the ever biblical name of judith in a tiny town in the midwestern united states to a religious family. growing up, her highest aspirations were winning a prize for best chocolate chip cookies at her church’s potluck. matching mary janes with her sisters and dresses with carefully picked cardigans took up the majority of her her wardrobe, and she could recite bible verses along with her times tables.

as teenage years hit, however, the spirit of rebellion was lit in jude. forcing friends and family to call her the much shorter, and in her opinion, much better jude. sneaking makeup in and herself out of picturesque suburban home, many nights were spent at house parties, doing beer pong inside, or smoking cigarettes or a joint outside. style never went full alternative — but baggy sweatshirts and ripped jeans replaced the uniform of sundresses.

two things that never suffered: her bubbly personality, and her affinity for bubblegum lipgloss. even as she tore away from weekly church attendance and skipped school more and more, jude still greeted all former churchgoers, classmates, and teachers in the grocery store with a beaming smile and a knack for remembering details — hi, ms. dawson. how’s little johnny? he’s two now, right? or i heard you were thinking about starting your own bait and tackle shop by the lake, mr. smith. i think you should do it. remember that bass you caught? you’re a natural! she had very little common sense, and didn’t do too well in school — but she always knew what to say and how to say it. she charming and friendly and fun to be around.

thus, jude’s rebellion was more so of the wannabe variety: in such a small town, everyone knew everyone, and everyone knew what she was doing. her parents mostly just waited for her to tire herself out — only it never happened. she dialed back on thick eyeliner, and still sometimes would show up to church on holidays to sing in the choir, but mostly, small town convention and religion were abandoned by the time she was in her mid-teens.

eventually, she came out to her parents as bisexual, and it was a non-issue — despite religious background, her parents supported her 100%, no matter what clothes she wore, who she hung out with, or who she loved.

jude never graduated high school. by her sixteenth birthday, her attendance record was so spotty that they stopped calling home to let her parents know she hadn’t shown up to school that day — and a few weeks before she turned seventeen, after many screaming matches with her parents and sessions with the school counselor and principal, jude officially dropped out.

she wasn’t going to sit around the house all day, however, instead driving her clunky car across town to the movie theatre every day, where she worked part time. she remained friends with all the people her age in town still, and made new ones at the theatre. however happy she was, jude was aimless. she knew she had to do something. finally, she turned a passion into a full time hobby, something she never thought would be lucrative.

by seventeen, that knack for singing in the choir had been translated to covers posted with the gentle strumming of a guitar and manufactured beats. by nineteen, she was writing her own songs and gaining traction on youtube and soundcloud, and two weeks before her twentieth birthday, jude was signed to disclosure records and being flown to manchester. it was hard work, and it took years, but it still feels like a whirlwind to her — one moment she’s in her bedroom, playing bars in her local areas at open mic nights and upaid gigs, and the next she’s signed to the disclosure records. it’s a dream.

tl;dr — jude is a flighty, fun high school dropout raised in small town middle america by a religious family. she grew into herself and was able to “rebel” despite her sheltered upbringing, and that unique sense of self + her musical talent got her a youtube following from the covers and songs she posted. that youtube following turned into a contract with disclosure two years ago, and she’s been in manchester ever since.

career:

a successful album and a successful tour behind her, the not-so-indie anymore lofi pop starlet is on the brink of even bigger fame, though she has a loyal following as she stands. she’s nowhere near super-fame — but she gets recognized in public, and that’s enough to give her the flutters in her stomach that she’s going to make it even bigger.

a regular social butterfly, jude regularly interacts with fans: instagram lives of acoustic covers from her apartment, constant posts to her stories. while her image isn’t exactly not genuine, it’s very curated: she’s careful what she reveals about herself, and the image she’s trying to maintain.

personality:

image is not a thing, however, in jude’s personal life. still a party girl at heart, she’s down for anything once ... or twice ... or maybe a third time. she’ll say yes to almost anything, and a distinct — though never malicious — lack of loyalty keeps her unbound by romantic relationships or extremely close friendships. she’s friends with everyone, as she’ll tell you, and she has no problem at all with hookups, consistent or one night only.

in spite of this, she develops crushes at the drop of a hat, and will always be there to help someone else out ... but don’t expect her to keep the same enemies, or to lose her forgiving heart.

jude isn’t dumb, and is pretty much a memorizing machine ( though not eidetic ), can be a little silly or ditzy, especially with sheltered upbringing and big heart. she’s not against being a shoulder to cry on, but when it comes to matters of her own heart, she’s as recticent as can be, never taking much seriously. as a mean youtube comment about her once said: that girl’s got about much depth as a kiddy pool. it wasn’t true, but it’s how she can come off.

drug tw / she drinks pretty consistently, and smokes weed even more so, though she’s not been known to deny any trying harder party drugs, however less consistent she is with it. she hasn’t a problem yet, but she doesn’t seem to be straying from the path that leads her there. if she ever encroaches in on one, jude wouldn’t be able to tell: she’s too busy having fun.

she’s a genuinely kind, caring person ... but jude is a little gullible, and trusts very easily. in spite of her affinity for friendship and relationship hopping, it’d be easy to convince her just about anything is true, or to do whatever bidding was necessary. say the right things at the right time, and jude will be wrapped around your finger. she doesn’t follow directions from authority terribly well, but friends ... that’s a different story.

above all : jude wants to be cool, fun, and liked. she’s a little desperate for attention and affection, and has inconsistent ideals about what’s good for her and the people around her. her self esteem is a lot lower than she makes it seem.

wanted connections:

party friends / drinking buddies: if anyone is as into getting drunk and dancing as she is, then call her up and get ready to go. she promises she can beat you in shots.

smoke buddies: a more chill version of the former, if anyone wants to sit around and have a songwriting session or just vibe.

friends: any kind of squad. she’s not the type to have besties, but if you consider her a friend, she’ll latch onto you whenever she gets the chance.

hookups / fwbs: what it says on the tin, jude is down for anything and anyone (1/?)

crush: jude is very flighty and tends to have feelings come in like a hurricane, with the potential for them to leave just as quickly — this person would have jude wrapped around their finger.

unrequited: basically the opposite — someone likes jude, she’s a #dummy who doesn’t realize it and leads them on because she’s flirty with everyone and would probably also make out with anyone

enemies: jude doesn’t make many of these, but if someone is annoyed by her and lets her know it ... well, she’ll do everything in her power to make them even more annoyed. if you can’t make them like you, make them hate you even more.

tentative friend: on the opposite end of things, this person doesn’t vibe with jude but she’s half-oblivious to it, and is desperately trying to make them like her

manipulator: jude LOVES attention, so if anyone needs any evil bidding or shit stirring done, just pay her some. she’d make an excellent lackey.

anything else! seriously! just let me know what you want and we can brainstorm <3

#disclosure.intro #* musings / introduction.

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izzymalec · 5 years

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saskia, unpopular opinions or random opinions you have about Shadowhunters? 👀

holly is this ur way of getting me to publish that jace post

let’s start with that: jace could actually have been an interesting character but the writers rlly fucked that up

another thing they fucked up was not making izzy canonically bisexual when it was heavily implied by her actions in season 1

the timeline isn’t THAT bad, it’s definitely unfortunate and inconsistent but all of that having have happened in like 3 months almost makes sense

related to 3x14: i don’t like clace but the clace ice skating scene was absolutely adorable and i’m glad it was bc we have to watch them anyway might as well get cute scenes + it gives clace stans an actual reason to ship it

that being said clace is still lowkey abusive and incestuous and clary is a lesbian and they hardly have any good scenes together which gets me to my next point

it’s the malec show

like it literally is the malec show and on one hand that’s amazing because that means that the mlm couple gets cuter scenes, domestic scenes, communication, their own storyline(s) etc. bc the writers know that it’s what gets them views

on the other hand malec being the most established thing in the show and the thing the writers most focus on makes everything else a lot more inconsistent and worse in quality

also people obsessing over them having “sexy scenes” together is weird

this next one isn’t unpopular at all but sizzy is book fan service and shouldn’t happen in the show bc it’s almost disrespectful to people who like the show for the show and don’t care about the books at all or don’t even know them

however people (on twitter) being angry at the writers for talking about sizzy/giving sneak peeks for them/teasing them is like. unnecessary, they are (sadly) an endgame couple so it makes sense for them to be treated as such. they’ll literally have like approximately 15 scenes together at the end of 3b, might as well give the shippers something

i’ve talked about this before but izzy & magnus’ wardrobes in season 1….. we deserve them back stop with the boring stuff we have now i want campy and sparkles

talking about season 1: alec was almost unbearable, he was racist and lowkey sexist and when people say they want “salty alec” back i’m always a bit 😶

also not unpopular but the writers making these strong female characters but then having them fight in heels and revolve their storylines around men. just say u have women and go

top three worst things that happened in the show: maia apologising to her abuser, izzy’s drug arc, incest

izzy might be the most mistreated character by the writers, they clearly didn’t know what to do with her after season 1 so they made her a drug addict, she barely has any scenes, she often seems like an afterthought, an “oh right we gotta do something with this girl too” kinda thought when she’s supposed to be a main. i’m glad they’re slowly changing that in 3b

i’m also glad they officially made meliorn bisexual but maybe implying a threesome wasn’t the best way to do it

there’s more but i’ll stop now also clary is god

#thank u holly aksfmskfm i'm sorry this is so long #holly tag #isabellelghtwoods #answered #discourse #just in case akfskfk #i better add the anti tags too #anti clace #anti sizzy

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adamjamesglass · 5 years

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Roswell, New Mexico Ep. 11

This will be basically over the story of Roswell and what I think about it. I will go a little on Malex. But I think I’m going to make a separate post on them.

To start, I feel this is not the greatest writing. I have been feeling this for a while and I think it shows through all my other post on Roswell. I’m not saying this because I feel like they are moving in the direction that Guerin is wanting Maria, but just the overall plot is a let down.

First, I feel like they could have done so much with the story line. It is in no way similar to the books, so why not go differently. I feel like this story could be self contained into one season. They are obviously setting up for more with the government stuff, but we needed this alien antagonist.

I didn’t mind that it was Noah, but they used him in a stupid way. He was not smart. Of course we have two more episodes, but he really shouldn’t have done what he did. When he found out they knew, he should have used Isobel to distract while he drove off. Then he could have come back later to kill them or something. A good continued antagonist for multiple seasons. Though the way they broke the secret was lackluster. I’m sure some expected it, or guessed by there not being any information on him at all. No backstory or anything to give him character. That’s the downfall.

They really should have done more with Noah before this happened. I never liked him to begin with and if they could have made us like him maybe it could have produced a stronger impact.

If Noah doesn’t die then I will be annoyed, only for the fact that she used the same drug that would have killed Isobel. I know they have an antidote, but I don’t want them to use it. It would be dangerous. They should just let him die. He is a murder and will continue to do it. They cannot do due process because they can’t continue to give him the drug if for some reason it didn’t kill him. Liz has not had time to perfect it. I would imagine not, as she was working on a cure.

I hope there is a better antagonist than the government for the next season. I’m sure these last two episodes will set up what the next one will be. Though I still feel that this may be the last one. It just isn’t that good of a story so far. That really upsets me because they could do so much.

They should not have done this time gap because it ruins everything. I guess there are too many teen dramas or something on TV. I don’t know because I don’t watch much, but I try when there are gay characters involved.

I mean this gap messes up the Maria and Guerin relationship. They were in town together the whole time, and just now have feelings for each other. Ridiculous. I’ll talk about that more in my next post.

The other things that annoyed me was the interrogation with Wyatt, I think that’s his name, he did it without a lawyer. I mean, how stupid do you have to be. What is this writing? He should have come with his lawyer to have this discussion. Plus, they would have said we can make a deal if your tip pans out with a lawyer there. They wouldn’t have to do shady things.

The next thing was Max getting knocked out in front of the police station. I believe it was the police station. And he seriously brought his clothes there to change. Why not go home and come back? Were those flowers there all day? These are the bigger questions. Who cares about Malex. JK.

It would have been better if Max went home to change and the person abducted him there. Who thinks that it is okay to have someone knocked out in an open area for everyone to see?

Another small thing that stood out to me was when Isobel was picking a dress for the gay-la, she was going through her wardrobe. Who wears the same thing they have worn before. That’s like such a faux pas. I’m kidding, but this is Isobel, she likes nice things, has money. She should be at the store finding the perfect dress.

Next we have Liz saving the two helpless aliens. Who picks a pickup truck to move the trailer, when you have a tow truck right there. In reality that bumper would not have moved that damn trailer. If it did, it would have at least bent it. I mean if we are going to do unrealistic things, might as well have fairy tale love that doesn’t stop because someone says they just want to be friends. Sorry, more on that in a different post. Then all of a sudden her face is covered in black stuff. What was she doing. She didn’t do anything. Maybe I could see a mark on her forehead from maybe the gloves she wore and tried to get rid of the sweat. But all of that black stuff, no. And even though they need to make it back quickly she has time to most likely wash her face and redo her makeup. Because I don’t think a touch up job would get rid of that.

I could probably find other things, but that requires viewing it a few times more and I just don’t want to. I want Maria to come around and fall for Isobel. No more Maria and Guerin please. The only thing that may be a problem with that could be that she only had those feelings because Noah was in her mind.

Those are my thoughts so far. Really don’t like the inconsistencies I see in the show. A lot doesn’t make sense to me. I’ve said this before, but I feel it is being written as they go, so why can’t they change things given audience reaction. I also feel like they are writing as they go because we get these weird week breaks. Does anyone know why? I’ve tried to look it up but find nothing.

Anyway, I am going to post my thoughts on Malex, or Alerin as I like to call them, soon after this one.

#roswell new mexico #Malex #Alerin #review #michael x alex #alex x michael #aliens #plot #story #rosell new mexico episode 11

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psychic-refugee · 6 years

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Anon Question re Descendants

“The Great Uniting happened because London is the ONLY place with modern tech while everyone's in the dark ages, you don't see Rome or all the other Islands of Greece where the Pantheon is now, and Frozen Fever explicitly had a VERY different world map that shows no place for the Southern Isles, and a different topography in general at that.

Also, it's JUST Bayou de New Orleans on a map. Where's the rest of America if they weren't transplanted there...?”

I got these two questions, I assume they are from the same Anon.

The simplest explanation is that Disney is greedy and has really lazy writers, so they just kind of mish mash whatever they have copy rights to into Auradon and called it a day. There is not going to be any clean perfect fit theory to explain all the inconsistencies.

The first novel can’t even decide if it’s United Kingdoms of Auradon or United States of Auradon.

“Once upon a time, during a time after all the happily-ever-afters-, and perhaps even after the ever-afters after that, all the evil villains of the world were banished from the United Kingdom of Auradon and imprisoned on the Isle of the Lost.” De La Cruz, Melissa, The Isle of the Lost: A Descendants Novel, Prologue 3, Disney-Hyperion, 2017.

“Meanwhile, across the Sea of Serenity, which separated the Isle of the Lost from the rest of the world, lay the USA—the United States of Auradon, a land of peace and enchantment, prosperity and delight, which encompassed all the good kingdoms.” De La Cruz, Melissa, The Isle of the Lost: A Descendants Novel, Chapter 5 at 48, Disney-Hyperion, 2017.

Within the SAME book, there is conflicting statements of the proper name of Auradon. I think this is a good example of how much they don’t care about their content.

I’m not saying the interdimensional displacement theory is impossible, the franchise is so terribly written that literally anything can be possible. I’m mostly saying there isn’t anything to back it up. While cherry picking countries from other dimensions would explain the time/technology difference, it also brings in more issues and plot holes than it would solve.

1) The first question is why? If each kingdom was from a separate dimension, why steal others and bring their problems (villains) into your own? Why go through the hassle? Who has anything to gain from it? If they wanted more people and land to rule, wouldn’t it have been easier to just create the land and tell people you already rule to just have a ton more kids?

2) Yen Sid and Fairy Godmother (“FGM”) are from different dimensions under this theory. FGM is from Cinderellaberg and Yen Sid is from Fantasia, a yet to be placed area in Auradon. If Fantasia is in one of the fairy tale lands and not its own, then it’s probably in Charmington given the wardrobe and originally the Apprentice was supposed to be Dopey. Either way, those are two different dimensions. So how would FGM and Yen Sid have known each other in order to bring these countries together? What would motivate them to seek each other out? Again, their villain problem had been solved. FGM didn’t even have a real villain to contend with, Lady Tremaine was just a bitch. FGM was also the most powerful person in Cinderellaberg, why take in a powerful evil Fairy like Maleficent to her world?

3) How do you get 18 Kingdoms from different universes to not resent being brought together against their will? Or to “vote” to one sovereign ruler right away? In order for Auradon to be as peaceful as shown, then the 18 Kingdoms are a) at peace with the idea that they are in a different dimensions, b) get along with the other kingdoms despite the vastly different cultures and probably religion, and c) were able to agree upon not only to unite under one ruler but that raising dead adversaries and banishing them to an island was a good idea. I’d be pissed as all hell, especially if I was a king or queen. Who is anyone to not only steal my land and my throne, but to raise dead adversaries that I risked my life to defeat? How could they have gotten along so quickly and kept peace for twenty years?

4) If interdimensional travel, along with merging lands, is possible then why bother with an island so close to the Mainland? Why not banish them to an inhabitable planet that doesn’t have magic? Seems simpler and safer than having them in your proverbial back yard. At the very least put them somewhere further than what a bridge could span.

5) Interdimensional unification is a rather significant occurrence. I’m pretty sure that would have been mentioned on top of unifying kingdoms.

6) If interdimensional communication is possible (That’s how Yen Sid and FGM got together) then why would they say “Our villains are dead and we’re our own sovereign nation…but I feel like combining with 17 other interdimensional kingdoms and giving up my own power…also, lets bring back the villains that almost killed us and put them on an island…for funsies you know? I’m totally sure we’ll all be super cool with each others religion, customs, and taboos. It’s not like people go to war over this stuff...Furthermore, villains only account for like .0000001% of our population, that’s totally worth giving up our sovereignty and displacing every other citizen, right?”

I’m sure all of this could be answered, but I doubt with canon. Nothing in the movies, what I’ve seen in Book 1, or researching online suggests interdimensional displacement.

But to answer Anon’s questions and assuming a) the princess/Disney movies’ timeline and whatever happened is absolute and unassailable and b) what happens in the Descendants franchise is also absolute and unassailable.

For both the Disney princess movies and Descendants, everything is taken at face value and literal.

So to answer your questions,

1) London is the ONLY place with modern tech while everyone's in the dark ages

2) you don't see Rome or all the other Islands of Greece where the Pantheon is now, and

3) Frozen Fever explicitly had a VERY different world map that shows no place for the Southern Isles, and a different topography in general at that.

4) Also, it's JUST Bayou de New Orleans on a map. Where's the rest of America if they weren't transplanted there...

Answers

1a) We do not know the exact structure of Auradon, such as how far each kingdom is away from the other. I’ve seen maps, but most seem to be fan made and not canon. The map shown in the first movie can’t be to scale. So I’m going to assume there’s no reliable map in existence.

If London has 1950’s technology such as cars, radios, and phones then perhaps London is so isolated from the other kingdoms that it went on its own technological evolutionary path. Real world example, United States of America has cars, computers, etc…there are tribes in the Amazon that have literally no modern technology. These are two independent entities with vastly different levels of technology existing on landmasses that connect. Depending on how far or isolated London was in relation to other kingdoms, I would say it’s possible they had this technology that the other kingdoms hadn’t invented yet. One explanation could be that Cruella’s story never had magic, so by extension maybe London was the only place in Auradon that was magicless by nature. Not having magic could have spurned their technological revolution while others lagged behind because magic made up for the lack of technology.

There’s also the instance of Camelot Heights. According to the internet, King Author “dislikes” the idea of modern technology and there isn’t any in Camelot Heights, so they’re still technologically in the dark ages. It’s possible other kingdoms had followed suit pre-Unification. A real world example of this is parts of the USA have groups that shun technology, such as Mennonite and the Amish, it’s an example of two groups having vastly different levels of technology by choice.

2a) There’s nothing to suggest Rome would exist in Auradon. While in a Whole New World we see roman columns, it’s not explicitly said to be Rome (not to mention how fast they would have had to have flown in order to get there in one night from Agrabah and back) and they could have very well been Greek columns as Greece had originated that architecture. To explain the Greece and the gods pantheon, I would say it’s coincidental that part of Auradon is named Greece. The fact that Hercules was trained by Phil the satyr, and not Chiron the centaur would suggest these are different but coincidentally named people. Also, real world Zeus is the worst, while Disney Zeus is a loving faithful father. Real world Hades is rather chill, considered boring, and is happy to stay in the Underworld, Disney Hades is a hot tempered villain. Real world Hercules went insane and killed Megera and their children, Disney Hercules gained and gave up immortality for Megera. I would definitely be comfortable saying these are all completely different people, and that Auradon’s Greece is divorced from real world Greece.

3a) There’s nothing to suggest Frozen is part of the Descendants universe, at least nothing I’ve come across says any of their characters have shown up. So until a book or movie suggests otherwise, I think we can say it doesn’t exist in the United States/Kingdom of Auradon and it might be one of the few Disney kingdoms that was able to keep their own sovereignty and Arendelle is a separate country somewhere, or doesn’t exist at all. I don’t necessarily think it could be assumed that if Disney made it, it’s in Auradon somewhere. We haven’t seen any references to the Lion King, Duck Tales, Brave, etc...

4a) I would say the USA doesn’t exist as the movie only ever mentions a place called New Orleans, Louisiana and a kingdom called Maldonia. New Orleans, Louisiana, United States/Kingdoms of Auradon is coincidentally named the same as New Orleans, Louisiana, USA. If people insist that it’s in the USA, then where is Maldonia? The existence of Maldonia suggests to me that Bayou de New Orleans can’t be in the USA or from our world at all.

Do all of these fit perfectly and make 100% sense with no need to suspend belief? No. Do they make more sense than interdimensional displacement? I think so. Is interdimensional displacement canon? I don’t think so and so far, no one has put forth anything to convince me it is.

If it is canon then I still say it’s problematic for all the reasons I’ve listed and would never be part of LOE.

#author's commentary #Legacy of Evil Fanfiction #anon questions #answering anon #disney descendants

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s-ound-wave · 6 years

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I just finished NDRV3 last night (a bit late I know) so bear with me because I have a theory that’s probably already been done to death but -

So everything Tsumugi said was a lie. Well, nearly everything. She (and Team DGR) did implant new memories into the 15 characters, and they possibly weren’t ultimates. They also weren’t heading into space, there was potentially no meteors, that entire backstory is a lie. In fact, everything from the Flashback Lights we can rule as a lie, unless cross referenced with something else (that’s not Tsumugi’s own testimony, I’ll get to her in a bit). That’s pretty much the entire game chucked out.

Except...

a. Prologue:

Kaede refers to herself as Kaede Akamatsu. Shuichi, likewise, refers to himself as Shuichi Saihara.

Obviously, given what we’re told by the game about Rantaro, he’s the only one who seems to know what’s going on, that it’s a Killing Game. An interesting point is that he asks ‘who is behind all this’, either suggesting that the 52nd game was drastically different, or that his Killing Game was under much different circumstances than we’ve been led to believe.

The personalities aren’t all that drastically different. Miu is still foul mouthed, for example.

Kaede trues several times to ask the Monokubs something, ‘If you guys are the Monokubs, then-‘, presumably asking where Monokuma is. Her sprite while she says this is her shocked one, with sweat on her face and mouth slightly open. It’s not really the face of someone who voluntarily joined up. Neither is how her and Shuichi claim to have gotten there, before the first Flashback Light - being thrown into a car by weird men.

This is followed up by the Monokubs changing the topic to Ultimate Talents, which Kaede responds that she has a skill she has a skill she devotes herself to, but that she wouldn’t call it an Ultimate Talent. This is said while her sprite is in the ‘crossing arms and looking down’ pose, looking rather crestfallen or concerned. It’s a bit of a stretch, but I’m going to say that this interaction implies that Ultimate Talents exist in this world.

Monotaro gives the game away by saying ‘See, according to the backstory, there’s this Ultimate Hunt goin’ on.’ I’m half tempted to ignore everything the Monokubs and Monokuma say, considering I’m not sure how much of it is regular Danganronpa 4th wall breaking and how much is meant to be hints at Tsumugi’s claims at the end. He does say something interesting, claiming that ‘The first thing we need you guys to do is remember your true selves’. Monophanie backs this up by saying ‘need to reclaim your sealed talents’. Both of these could be for the fictional audience’s benefit, if we take what Tsumugi says at face value.

Kaede’s reaction to Monokid saying there’s going to be a killing game is a shocked sprite, and, in her thoughts ‘K-Killing Game...?’. Again, not really the actions of someone who signed up for a Killing Game willing.

This is everything usable in the prologue, as far as I’m aware.

b. Chapter Six Trial

There’s no reason for there to be so many discrepancies between the characters’ memories and the canon events of the first two games. Tsumugi is portrayed as some uber fan, why would she settle for less than perfect? The justification that Tsumugi gives is flimsy at best.

Tsumugi, as Makoto Naegi, says ‘If what I said is the truth, then Hope’s Peak Acaemy was...’ when Shuichi brings up the Cospox. Notice the ‘If’.

The places seen when Tsumugi as Chiaki claims that everyone is a huge DanganRonpa fan are - Japan, Australia, England, America and one other place I can’t identify.

When it’s revealed that it’s the 53rd season, the white V changes to a pink 5. Pink is used in DanganRonpa to symbolise lies (and blood, but it’s the wrong shade of pink for that)

What’s the in game justification for the NDRV3 cast not having any memories of the other games? Or Tsumugi not cosplaying as characters from the other games? (Other than the obvious real world justification that those games don’t exist)

I find it odd that Tsumugi as various characters keeps saying ‘DanganRonpa inspired’.

Gonna point out that they made a kid into a robot. Just gonna throw that out there. This has nothing to do with it I just think it’s fucked up that within a matter of second they took a normal teenager and made him into a walking talking surveillance robot.

Shuichi’s supposed audition video. The Shuichi in this claims that he’s a huge fan of DanganRonpa and has always wanted to be in one. Shuichi in chapter one does not recognise Rantaro, a previous contestant, or the Monokubs. He always reacts with fear and shock in the prologue, contrary to how he acts in the audition video.

Right after the wardrobe change. The change here is that there’s an extra bit after Kaede says ‘K-Killing Game?’, where Shuichi says ‘You mean... we were selected!?’ With the happiest expression on his face. This is not shown in the prologue, obviously. I’m doubting that this actually happened, and that it’s not just another trick by Tsumugi to bring them further into despair.

‘Well, if you’re going to call fiction a lie... Then yes’ this line stands out to me for reasons I can’t explain right now.

Kaede’s audition tape. She says she has no faith in humanity, and yet in the prologue worries over Shuichi and acts in ways one who has no faith in humanity wouldn’t really act.

Kaito’s audition tape. Yeah, no, guy didn’t come off like that at all. I think you get the drill.

c. Tsumugi

Cospox. This is what she uses to justify how she can cosplay as Junko Enoshima while the everyone still thinks she’s real, by claiming that Junko (and the cast of DR and SDR2) are fictional in the world of NDRV3. Problem: She can’t cosplay as Kaede, someone she herself claims to see as fictional. This could mean either that the cospox itself is a lie, or that Kaede isn’t ‘fictional’.

She never claims her own talent was imparted onto her with the Flashback Lights

Interestingly enough, when giving her certain gifts (the prop carrying case is one) her eyes with swirl, like she’s under the effects of Despair. This also happens during the trial, and a few other times during her FTEs. AS far as I’m aware, she’s the only character in NDRV3 who does this.

In her third FTE, she says ‘This is the ‘Cosplay is Fun’ episode’.

The ‘cosplaycat criminal’ line that gets Shuichi thinking that Junko Enoshima and Hope’s Peak is actually real.

Tsumugi says that she’s been working for 53 seasons on the show. Assuming you have a murder once a week like we see in all three DanganRonpa games, and have 16 victims, that’s 14 weeks of murder as it goes until there are two students left. So 14 weeks x 53 = 742 weeks or 14 years, 2 months and 3 weeks of murder. This also means Tsumugi is at minimum in her 30s. This is assuming that she’s telling the truth, of course.

d. Misc

Maybe a bit of a stretch, but the D.I.C.E logo and the Future Foundation logo look similar.

Why is the History of Hope’s Peak Academy book even here, let alone in Kokichi’s lab? All it does is reveal all of the inconsistencies in Tsumugi’s fake memories.

Actually, the labs in general are a bit odd. All of them are really stereotypical, it reminds me of when I’m designing a house in the Sims for a character who’s athletic so there’s just sports equipment everywhere.

So my theory is as thus:

NDRV3 doesn’t take place in a world where everyone is obsessed with DanganRonpa and watches Killing Games all day. It takes place in the regular old DanganRonpa universe (possibly where people watch Killing Games), some time after the events of DR3.

Tsumugi is a part of the Remnants of Despair. I’m guessing that either a) They are actually putting on a Killing Game reality show so they can watch people slip into despair then climb into hope then slip into despair again (this could be part of why previous survivors carry over) or b) something else, like studying Ultimate Talents in a slightly more gory way than Hope’s Peak was.

Tsumugi being part of the Remnants of Despair would also explain why the memories are imperfect. She worships Junko, she’s obviously going to play up her actions and downplay the actions of everyone else, it’s a classic propaganda move, and everyone who could have told them about the inner workings of Hope’s Peak Academy is no longer part of the Remnants of Despair.

I’m also going to toss out there that Team DGR might be another name for the Remnants of Despair. This isn’t based on anything, other than their running of Killing Games and it’s the organisation Tsumugi is a part of.

All of this is speculation and quite a bit of reaching, but I had fun doing it and not the pressing assessment that’s due today so that’s all that matters, right? I might update this post from time to time.

#ndrv3 #ndrv3 spoilers #danganronpa #dr #dr spoilers #sdr2 spoilers #theory

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incredibeale-archive · 7 years

Note

Your otp/ot3 is going to adopt/foster a child. They had planned on a baby/toddler but end up falling for an older child /teenager who has been moved in and out of homes their whole life.

So this has been in my drafts for ages – I decided to finish it. Note: I’ve got minimal knowledge of adoption/fostering, so forgive me for any inconsistencies. (Like, I’m not even sure if Polyamerous couples can foster/adopt, but whatever.)

–

Going into this, they had expected to be fostering (and hopefully adopting) a younger child, honestly. And they had every intention of looking through the websites provided, except they’re contacted and asked if they can take on an emergent case.

They’re wary, but they accept, even though they’re given very little info other then there are no group homes available. The next day, there’s a knock on the door and when Chloe opens it, it’s to reveal a woman in a pantsuit and a young girl who looks to be 12 or 13. She’s this tiny little thing, though – maybe too tiny – and her dark brown hair is pulled up into a messy ponytail, her green eyes downcast. Her clothes are too big and there’s a bruise around her wrist peeking out from under long sleeves, which – worries Chloe.

But then, Chloe notices the smaller figure peeking out from behind the girl. He’s this precious little thing with shaggy brown hair and bright, blue eyes that are mostly hidden by black rimmed glasses that are a little too big for his face. He looks to be 4 or 5.

The woman smiles and holds out her hand. “Hi, I’m Denise, we spoke over the phone.” Chloe takes her hand and shakes it.

“Pleasure to meet you. I’m Chloe, and this is Aubrey and –” Chloe glances behind her with a frown before looking back at the woman. “Beca must still be working upstairs, but please, come in.”

They lead them all into the living room, where Aubrey properly shakes the woman’s hand and everyone takes a seat. “This is Hadley,” The woman gestures to the young girl who sits sullenly, eyes seeming to find her worn down shoes a lot more interesting. “And this is Wyatt.” Denise presses a hand to the little boy’s back, who offers up a shy little smile and Chloe wants to coo because he’s just this tiny little thing and she’s always been a sucker for dimples.

Distantly they can hear a piano being played, but Chloe knows it’s just Beca trying to finish up a few last minute things for work. Still, she knows that the brunette needed to be down here for this. But, as if on cue, the piano playing stops and she can hear little thuds coming down the stairs, signaling Beca’s arrival. The brunette turns into the living room and pauses. “Oh, uh – sorry. I didn’t realize everyone had arrived.” Chloe can tell she’s nervous by the way she scratches absently at her ear lobe. “Uh, I’m Beca.” She holds out her hand to Denise to shake before settling beside Aubrey. “What’d I miss?”

Chloe smiles. “Well, this is Hadley and Wyatt and that’s pretty much it, right now.”

“Cool, nice to meet you guys, too.” Beca says gently, beginning to twist her thumb ring.

Denise smiles and moves to pull a file out of her briefcase. “I appreciate you taking them on at such a short notice. There was –” She seems to pause as she glances down at Hadley. “Well, I’ll explain that soon… Let’s just get started.” Chloe doesn’t miss Hadley’s little frown deepening.

When Beca offers to show the kids where they’ll be staying, Denise proceeds to tell Chloe and Aubrey that Hadley and Wyatt had to be removed immediately because there had been an altercation between Hadley and her previous foster father. They had been horrified to learn that he had manhandled her and struck her, all because she had been protecting Wyatt. The wife had called and said she couldn’t in good conscience keep them there any longer while her husband went to jail.

–

“And this is my studio.” Beca says gesturing to the large room filled with recording equipment and a grand piano.

Wyatt’s eyes are wide as he peeks in. “Wow.” He whispers in awe. “Big p’ano.”

Hadley looks like she wants to be impressed, but seems to decide it’s more important to keep her look of indifference, which- Beca can understand (and relate to). But she chuckles at the little boy and nods. “Yeah, it’s pretty cool, huh?”

The little boy nods so vigorously that he has to push his glasses up the bridge of his nose.

Beca continues the tour, showing them each their rooms before they head back downstairs to see everyone standing. Beca can already see the mild looks of horror on her wives’ faces, though they’re trying to work to replace them with polite smiles as they offer to give Denise a tour (as it is protocol).

–

Hadley is waiting for the other shoe to drop. She and her brother have been here for almost a week now, and it’s – well, she doesn’t want to jinx herself, because it’s been so good. They’re all so kind and funny and Hadley is trying really hard not to get attached, because she knows it won’t last. Nothing this good ever lasts for her.

But on the second day, Chloe and Aubrey had taken them shopping for a whole new wardrobe and school supplies and– she had tried to tell them they didn’t need it– that she didn’t need it, that it was too much. But they’d shaken their heads and told her and her brother to get whatever they wanted. Wyatt had been hesitant, too, but after some encouragement from the redhead, he was picking out clothes and toys and books and– it’s just too good to be true.

Now, though – it’s their first day of school (the week had been for them to get settled). It’s barely 6:30 AM and she really doesn’t have to be up until 6:45 since they have to be there by 8, so she’s not sure why she’s awake, right now… except the thought of trying to find her classroom and talking to people gives her so much anxiety that her stomach churns noisily.

She’s not sure how long she’s been laying there when she hears a soft knock on the door. “Hadley, it’s time to get up, sweetie.” Aubrey says gently. “Beca’s got breakfast going, so just come on down when you’re dressed and ready.” She goes to close the door, but Hadley watches in slight amusement as the blonde pokes her head back in and points a finger at her. “And don’t forget to brush your teeth.”

Hadley chuckles and nods. “Okay, Aubrey.” Aubrey offers the girl a smile before nodding and closing the door behind her. Distantly, she hears the blonde going into her little brother’s room to wake him.

The twelve year old goes about getting dressed (Aubrey had helped her pick her outfit out the night before and to Hadley’s amusement, the rest of the week), before wandering into the bathroom to brush her teeth and maybe try to do something with her hair. After brushing her teeth and giving up on her hair, she heads downstairs and into the kitchen where her brother is already seated, looking like he’s about to burst with excitement.

Beca is at the stove, flipping pancakes and Chloe is setting the table. When the redhead catches her eye, she smiles brightly– and Hadley doesn’t think she’s ever met someone who’s smile is so freaking sincere and sweet that it makes her smile back genuinely. “Good morning, Hads!” And then there’s the nickname, Hadley has never had a nickname, but every time Chloe uses it, her heart feels warm and light and for a minute, she thinks– maybe this is it, maybe they’re here to stay.

“I guess it’s good.” Hadley offers with a shrug. She watches as Beca turns slightly to smirk at her, while Chloe raises a brow.

“Of course it is, it’s your first day of school, aren’t you excited?” Chloe asks, brightly.

Hadley settles into the chair next to her brother and smirks. “Excited isn’t really the word I’d use.” She replies, resting her arms on the table.

“That’s all we need,” Comes Aubrey’s voice from behind her. “Another Beca. Full of snark and sarcasm.” She finishes, lips quirking into a smile as she makes her way to the coffee pot.

Beca turns and smirks knowingly. “Please, you love me.”

Aubrey gives the brunette a once over. “Mm, debatable.” She says with an air of indifference, but Hadley can see the smile creeping on the edge of the blonde’s lips.

For her part, Beca gasps and holds a hand to her heart. “You wound me with your words, Bree.”

From the other side of the room, Chloe rolls her eyes affectionately. “Okay, you two. That’s enough banter. I’m starved.” She moves to kiss both of them on their cheeks before she starts to dish out food.

And Hadley’s never really witnessed a love like this– or really at all. Most of the homes she’d been in, they were never filled with warmth and love like she’d experienced, here. They were cold and distant and silent.

But she supposes that going from houses where two people who are supposed to love and cherish each other that only argue instead, and then coming here– where not just two, but three people love and cherish each other equally and fiercely– well, that’s a really nice change.

And it gives Hadley a little hope that, not everyone is bad.

After breakfast is had, and the chatter dies down, the three women help them to gather their stuff and Chloe offers to french braid Hadley’s hair and– Hadley is so surprised by it, that all she can do is nod dumbly.

“Are all three of you really going to drive us to school?” Hadley asks, trying to hide the amusement in her voice.

Beca just smirks and nods. “Yeah, dude. It’s an important day for you guys.”

“And we want to show our support.” Chloe adds as she helps Wyatt into his car seat.

Aubrey nods her agreement with a soft smile before she moves to the driver’s side.

Hadley nods with a quiet sigh before she slips into the backseat, Beca behind her.

–

Beca can feel everyone’s anxiety (except for Wyatt’s because he’s more excited than anything) as they exit the car. Aubrey and Chloe are nervous for Hadley and though Beca is pretty sure that Hadley is trying to act like she doesn’t care, she can see in the way that she fiddles with her lunch bag that she’s nervous.

“Okay,” Aubrey says on a deep breath. “You two have everything? Your lunches?”

They both nod, Wyatt holding up his Scooby-Doo lunch box and smiling brightly. Beca melts a little at the sight of it because he’s literally the cutest thing.

“Are you sure you don’t want us to walk you in?” Chloe asks anxiously, lip getting caught between teeth.

Beca places a hand at the small of her back. “Chlo, they’ll be fine.”

Hadley offers Beca a small smile. “Yeah, what Beca said.”

Chloe sighs, but nods. “Okay.”

“You better get going, then. You don’t want to be late.” Aubrey says from Chloe’s other side, her hand reaching out to take the redhead’s.

Hadley nods and before she can even reach for her brother’s hand, he’s lurching forward and hugging Chloe’s legs tightly. “Bye, Chlo!” He chirps, and then he moves to Beca and does the same, before doing it a third time to Aubrey.

And Beca thinks that Chloe a little bit might be on the verge of tears, because her bright eyes are suspiciously glassy as she pulls Wyatt back toward her gently to give him a proper hug. “Bye, sweetness.” She says quietly before releasing him and standing back up.

Beca can’t help but smile at the site. She knows it’ll take a lot more time for Hadley to offer or accept that sort of affection, which– she thinks, the kid won’t last long with Chloe around. Beca is living proof of that.

Hadley offers a small, shy smile to the three of them before she takes Wyatt’s hand and they head toward the school building.

“Bye! Have a good day!” Beca calls after them.

Chloe elbows her gently. “That’s too much pressure!”

“I–I mean, h-have the day you have?” Beca looks at the ginger in bemusement while Aubrey just shakes her head.

“C’mon, let’s get home.” Aubrey says, tugging Chloe and Beca by extension, to the car.

–

It’s been six months since Hadley and Wyatt were brought into Aubrey, Chloe, and Beca’s home and the 12 year old has finally accepted that, maybe they actually do care about them. Because they’re still here. They celebrated Halloween together and Thanksgiving and Christmas and– and it was nothing like they had ever had.

Hadley had cried on Christmas morning when she had seen so many gifts for them under the tree.

Yet, apart of her is still a little skeptical, urging her not to get comfortable. That this is only temporary.

She sighs as she closes her science book before Chloe’s voice fills the hall. “Hadley, Wyatt! Will you guys come down, we need to talk to you.”

Hadley’s heart sinks and suddenly a feeling of dread overcomes her. This is it. They’re going to send them back now. Slowly, she stands and meets her brother in the hallway. He’s humming something happily and Hadley wishes she could keep him from the inevitable pain that’s about to wash over them.

When they reach the living room, Aubrey, Chloe, and Beca are sitting on the couch looking on edge and nervous. Aubrey gestures for them to sit on the adjacent couch.

Hadley swallows the lump in her throat– she will not cry. Shouldn’t have gotten attached! She mentally berates.

Aubrey takes a breath and before she can even speak, Hadley is standing up jerkily, fists clenched at her sides. “If you’re gonna send us back, at least just– consider keeping Wyatt. I know we weren’t what you were expecting or–wanting, but– he–he deserves this and I–I know I’m older and more complicated, so I under–” She can’t fight the tears anymore, or the way she sobs out her words. “–under-s-stand why you’d w-want to se–”

The three adults look equal parts confused and sad, but Beca is the one who cuts her off, shaking her head furiously. “Dude, no!”

“We’re not sending you back.” Aubrey adds quickly, while Chloe shakes her head, gently, tears streaming down her cheeks.

Hadley sniffs and swipes away a few tears. “Y-You’re not? Then what–”

Chloe stands slowly and takes Hadley’s hand. She stiffens at first, resisting the urge to pull away. “No, silly.” She croaks, offering this soft little smile. “We want to adopt you.”

Hadley’s heart seizes in her chest and she blinks up owlishly at the girl. Behind her, Wyatt gasps. “You’re gonna be our moms?!” She watches as Chloe’s smile grows and then she notices Aubrey and Beca both giving watery smiles, but Beca is nodding softly.

“Yeah, little man. If that’s cool with you– we can be whatever you want us to be.” She says, voice thick.

Wyatt is out of his seat and rushing toward Beca and Aubrey before he practically flings himself at the two women. Beca chuckles while Aubrey tells him to be careful, but unable to keep serious as he hugs both their necks tightly. “So cool with me.” Wyatt whispers.

Hadley brings her gaze back to Chloe’s. “Y-you want to adopt us?” She asks again, needing the clarification, because this is– it’s just– it has to be a dream.

Chloe nods gently. “Yes, Hads. We love you both, so very much.”

And then something happens that– has never happened before. Hadley lurches forward and throws her arms around the redhead’s waist, burying her face in the women’s abdomen. One of Chloe’s arms wrap around her tightly, while the other gently combs through her hair. “I–I love you too.” Hadley whispers, finally. And she does, she loves all three of them so much. It’s the first time she’s admitted it to anyone, even herself, but she’s never been more happy than in this moment.

A moment later, she feels another hand on her back and pulls away enough to see Aubrey and Beca smiling at her warmly, Wyatt perched on Beca’s hip and cuddling into her. Hadley finally moves away from Chloe to hug Aubrey, and then Beca.

“You okay, kiddo?” Beca asks as Hadley pulls back from their hug.

Hadley sniffs and nods. “I–Yeah. I’m– I’m so happy.” She says, smiling so wide that it hurts her cheeks.

“I take it, that you definitely want to make this permanent, then.” Aubrey says with a smile.

“Yes. Please. When, when will it be official?” She needs it to be official. She doesn’t ever want to be taken away from this place.

Chloe brushes a few stray tears from Hadley’s cheeks and Hadley surprises everyone, including herself as she leans into the touch.

“We’ll submit the paperwork today.” Aubrey says quietly, voice quivering.

The room is quiet for a moment, before Wyatt grins down at Hadley. “We have three moms now, Hadley. Isn’t that so cool?”

Hadley chuckles. “Yeah, that’s– that’s pretty cool.”

Later, Hadley will think back and realize how fitting it is. They started out with nothing and no one. No love. And then here came Aubrey, Chloe, and Beca – their parents – so full of love and goodness that sometimes Hadley forgets that there was a time she wasn’t loved or cared for.

#pitch perfect fanfiction #Triple Treble fanfiction #( she makes us better || triple treble ff )#;;i hope you guys like this #sorry its a bit long???#alsooo it's hard to write that many people omg

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gymwrites · 7 years

Text

Second Thoughts: A Fan Sequel to First Times

[Author’s note: It wasn’t supposed to happen, but Chapter 6 will have three parts. Some of you seem to prefer I release whatever I’m done with sooner, so trying it out this way :) P.S I wonder if there will still be any Thorsman shippers after this chapter 🤔]

Links to: Prologue, Chapter 1, Chapter 2, Chapter 3, Chapter 4, Chapter 5 (Part I), Chapter 5 (Part II), Chapter 6 (Part I), Chapter 6 (Part II), Chapter 6 (Part III), Chapter 7, Chapter 8 (Part I), Chapter 8 (Part II)

Chapter 6 (Part II): Rio

The second thought Aliya Mustafina has when it just so happens to be Eythora Thorsdottir entering the all but deserted locker room, is how she hates not being able to hate her. The first had been replete with silent cursing. Lots of it.

She curses the twistedness of the universe. Of all the gymnasts in all the world, of all the moments in time, it had to be her and it had to be now. She curses the air of confidence Eythora totes around with her. Even when setting her oversized gym bag down onto the lacquered wooden bench, tilting her head to the side, and putting one arm over the other in a slow, relaxed stretch.

But most of all, she curses when Eythora turns at the sound of footsteps coming from the direction of the showers.

Spotting Aliya, the girl’s eyebrows shoot up in surprise. The Russian, freshly wet hair hanging down over her shoulders, is equally surprised. Eythora is the very last person she wants to be alone with. To make matters worse, Eythora greets her as if greeting a friend she hasn’t seen in years.

“Aliya, hey!”

Grudgingly, Aliya plasters what she hopes resembles a smile on her face.

“Hi.”

“I wasn’t expecting anyone to be here so early,” Eythora says, her dimpled grin designed to disarm even the most jaded person in the room.

If Aliya had tried to pick apart her demeanor in subatomic detail to find some flaw, some inconsistency, she would have failed. With a sinking heart, she resentfully admits the obvious: No wonder why Aly seems so taken by this girl. Genuineness is the currency of good, decent people. And Eythora has it in spades. Not to mention her English is freakishly, annoyingly perfect.

Pushing down her irritation, Aliya replies coolly, “Early is better. No people.”

“You just finished training?”

“Yes.” Aliya fervently prays that keeping her responses short and minimally polite will bring the conversation to a merciful end.

"Congratulations on your team winning the silver yesterday. You deserved it.” Eythora flashes that damn smile again. She unzips her bag and starts pulling out various items one by one - a large fluffy towel emblazoned with a golden lion and Welkom in Nederland in bold typeface, a sleek black training leotard, a roll of tape.

Aliya mutters her thanks. She knows she should comment on how impressive Team Netherlands’ performances were. She’s been following their dazzling rise with interest for quite some time now. She’s even looked forward to swapping notes on choreography and performance under the code. Instead, Aliya grips the straps of her bag tighter and makes a not-so-subtle move towards the exit.

“How are you feeling about the all-around tomorrow?”

Stopped in her tracks, a jolt of bewilderment shoots through Aliya. Her deliberately standoffish aura must really be off today. Either that, or Eythora is one of the rare few who are completely impervious to wilfully uncommunicative Russians.

“I am good.”

“Good… Me too. I think.” Eythora sits down on the bench beside her bag with a sigh. “Good, but nervous.” She looks up at Aliya with unconcealed admiration. “I guess you know what that’s like. You’ve been in so many competitions and had so much success. I am a huge fan of yours. Does it get any easier? I mean, dealing with all that pressure?”

Dear God.

Does it get any easier to constantly be expected to bear the brunt of responsibility for an entire national team, receiving nothing but low rumbles of disappointment from your own gymnastics federation in return? To be falsely accused of using injury as an excuse to slack off? Does it get easier to fall hopelessly for a rival American gymnast, to the strong disapproval of everyone close to you, only to have her break you, but somehow still keep an iron hold over you? To have the girl clearly chasing after said American unexpectedly ask you for advice?

Surprising even herself, Aliya manages to hold off her rising animosity by breathing deeply in, then out fast. Can she blame Eythora for the fact that Aly is a walking human magnet? It’s not the girl's fault she fortuitously crossed paths with the American in Rio, at a time when no one, least of all Aliya, has any claim over her.

‘Do you think we could maybe just be friends? People who aren’t crazy in love with each other, or aren’t crazy angry at each other all the time. Just friends.’

Like a trained assassin lowering a drawn weapon, Aliya’s readiness to wage war fades, bit by bit.

Just friends.

Warily, quietly, Aliya answers, “Thank you. It not get more easy. Only look easy to people who not know how hard we train.” She allows herself to give Eythora the slightest of reassuring looks. “You not have problem tomorrow if trust body, trust mind.”

Eythora pauses thoughtfully, musing over Aliya’s words. She unscrews the top of a shiny red metallic water bottle she’s pulled out of her bottomless bag. A long sip follows. Then Eythora nods and breaks into a grateful smile. “Thanks so much, Aliya. I’ll remember that.”

Minutes - they seem like years - of silence ensue, punctured only by the sound of Eythora rustling through a plastic bag that contains pairs of extra socks. At this rate, she’s going to pull out her entire wardrobe, wooden chest of drawers and all.

Aliya seems to be the only one to sense the rising level of discomfort permeating the space between them. There's something else she has to say, but it's taking her longer than expected to work up to it. “Eythora,” she eventually forces out in a low voice.

The Dutch girl stops unrolling a sock and glances up with curiosity. “Yes?”

“I am sorry. For yesterday.”

The confusion on Eythora’s expression almost breaks Aliya’s resolve to be cordial to the girl. She doesn’t want to have to repeat the apology, the speaking of which has left a nasty, nauseous aftertaste.

“Sorry? What for?”

“I am not good to you when… when you are with Aly in the morning.” Aliya swallows. The phrase ‘with Aly’ tastes even worse coming off her tongue. Like bile mixed with cheap, sour wine.

“Oh, that.” For a split second, it looks like Eythora doesn’t quite know how to react. But she recovers quickly with a smile. “Don’t worry. I wasn’t bothered by it.”

Aliya’s eyes harden into black stone. The way Eythora casually said that makes her one part uncomfortable, nine parts irate. 'Wasn’t bothered by it', like she's trying to be deliberately dismissive.

Aliya doesn’t get an opportunity to parse this out, because Eythora presses on, catching her off guard again.

“Look. I don’t want to be too forward or anything-”

A cold prickle of dread runs through Aliya’s body. Too forward was about ten minutes ago.

“- but I wanted to…“ Eythora hesitates, searching for the correct word, “check? that you have nothing going on with Aly.” She pauses again, contemplating how to proceed. Her earnest, slate grey eyes lock onto Aliya’s. “If there is, just say the word. I’m not the kind of girl to come in between two people, if you know what I mean.”

A raging loathing engulfs Aliya whole, even if it is tinged with a bit of guilt for being hostile to this genuinely considerate girl. She has to credit Eythora for being as gutsy as she is right now. Aliya knows exactly what she means. But who does that? Who lays out all their cards at once, giving someone who has every reason to take away the object of their desire the power to do so?

It turns out to be a genius tact, because something snaps. An answer instinctively rushes out, one Aliya can hardly believe when she hears herself give it.

“No. There is nothing.”

Saying that feels like swallowing blades. Blades, and fire.

“You’re not together?” Uncertainty, and a smidge of hopefulness, colors Eythora’s careful tone.

“No.” It’s surreal, almost as if her mouth is an independent and completely separate part of her, while her soul is screaming at it to take it all back and declare that no one, nothing, will ever be allowed to come between her and Aly Raisman.

The salving effect of that tiny, two-lettered word is obvious. Eythora isn’t even trying to hide her relief. She gives a shy, uneasy chuckle. “Thank you for even answering that. I know it was a stupid question.”

Aliya feels sick to her stomach. She realizes that fear and pride, magnified by a history of hurt, had pushed her and Aly onto two parallel tracks that would never meet. So long as it remained this way, a vulnerable space would exist between them, one that opened up opportunities for others to enter into the picture.

“She’s special, isn’t she?” Eythora’s question isn’t really a question, but the remarks of someone who can’t help but keep talking about a person they’re clearly taken with.

There are worse things than continuing this conversation, Aliya thinks. Walking on burning coals. Tearing through tendons and bone. But it sure doesn’t feel like it right now. Nothing could possibly be worse. She forces the muscles in her throat to work. “Da. She is good gymnast.”

Eythora gives a small faraway smile. “Not just that. She’s one of the nicest people I’ve met.”

“There are many nice people.”

“Not like her, though.”

Reflexively, Aliya clenches her first.

No. There is no one like her.

With another embarrassed laugh, Eythora glances at Aliya apologetically. “I’m sorry, I just… It’s good to talk to someone who knows Aly and doesn’t think I’m crazy for being so attached to a girl I barely know. My teammates think I’ve lost my mind.”

“They are right.”

Frowning, Eythora asks, “How so?”

“Two country, two people. It is never good.”

“I know it won’t be easy.”

“It is not about easy, not easy. It is about what is possible and not possible.”

“I believe in trying for things that other people say are impossible. Isn’t that why we’re all here, at the Olympics?”

Aliya glares, eyeing the girl with a seasoned, but barely maintained tolerance. “What you are wanting is much different to Olympics.”

“I’ll take my chances.” Eythora finally breaks with her policy of not explicitly throwing down a challenge to Aliya. There’s no ambiguity about it now - her steady, unflinching gaze confirms that she isn’t going to hold back anymore.

With that made clear, there’s no longer any reason for Aliya to be standing there talking to Eythora. She can’t stay much longer, anyway. With each passing second, it feels like the freshly painted and scuffed locker room walls are collapsing slowly in on her. Aliya shifts her bag onto the other shoulder and gives the girl a terse nod.

“I am late to see my team. Good luck tomorrow.”

Eythora seems unsurprised that their exchange has come to an abrupt end. “You too. And Aliya?” She dips her head to the side, a somber expression etched on her face, as if acknowledging she had tested the Russian’s patience more than was perhaps warranted. “Thank you.”

As she strides out the doorway, Aliya feels weighed down by a weary sorrow, a distressing sense that she has somehow been outmanoeuvred. Once outside, she finds a wall to lean against. She gulps in mouthfuls of fresh air, trying to clear her head and if possible, expunge from her memory the last few minutes of her life.

If it had been a test of her resolve to be ‘just friends’ with Aly Raisman, she had passed. Maybe not with flying colors, but she had scraped by, the promise to not assert any deeper connection to the girl intact. Her fighting instincts to claim the American solely as hers, and hers own alone, no longer reign supreme.

She had done it.

Aliya hides her face in her hands, willing back a sob.

Being ‘just friends’ with Aly Raisman is the most horrible feeling in the world.

#raistafina #ST #chapter 6 #second thoughts #first times

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