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#i thought that it would look cool with the upside down light communication scenes
Ok, so I just watched Stranger Things 4 again but only the Robin/Steve/Nancy/Dustin/Max/Eddie/Lucas scenes, and I think that the writers 100% purposely made Robin autistic. I don't think it was accidental. Back in the 70s and 80s autism wasn't really a thing that doctors knew much about, and for YEARS they also thought only boys could have autism. So it's not going to be an actual thing in the story where Robin is like diagnosed or even suspects it, but there were too many autistic traits for it to be an accident. And I really like the way the writers did it. She's not nerdy or super awkward and overly quirky all the time. She is those things, but they're not "weird", if you know what I mean. But I remember the first time I watched it, the biggest thing that stuck out to me was when she kept asking Nancy if she was mad at her because Nancy was basically not being very friendly and Robin said she can't always tell if she annoys people because she's bad at picking up on social cues, which her mom reminds her of daily. Then there was the thing where she had to wear Nancy's clothes and she complained about how uncomfortable they were. Like she was so distracted the whole time because they felt scratchy and that the bra was digging into her… then she had a sensory overload outburst (sensory issues common in people with autism- commonly with clothes). Then when the police were escorting them out, the cop touched her arm when she turned to look at something and she spazzed out and sharply said "don't touch me" (autistic people commonly don't want to be touched or only like being touched on our terms). When Nancy said they had to run to the car and Robin said something like she's a bad runner because she has horrible coordination and it took her 6 months longer to learn to walk than all the other babies. And then how she would sometimes just interject in conversations with something super random and they'd all be like, "...okay?" Oh then when they were in the Upside-Down and trying to communicate with the others at the Wheeler's house, so they put their hands up to the lights and there was that like sparkly energy field around it or something, and someone said "It tingles" and Robin said, "It feels good." That's totally related to the sensory thing. I'm the same way- some things are so uncomfortable for me, but I also can't help touching things- like I have to know what things feel like and then I'll just keep touching it if it feels really cool. Oh, and then when she said her biggest fear was rabies? so random. and she knew so much stuff about it and was kind of obsessed with it for like a whole scene. Just so many things like that, and the first time around I didn't pick up on all of them, so rewatching those scenes with that lens was really fun and helped me notice more autistic traits in her. But I loved that she did have friends- they were just cool and loved her quirks (or with Nancy, she just put up with them even though Robin annoyed her so much). And she wasn't overly "weird". And she's smart without being nerdy. I guess I just really appreciate that the writers didn't go for the stereotypes and kind of naturally let those traits be revealed throughout the season.
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Billy Is Going To Find The Byers
IMPORTANT: If you haven’t read my post “The Demogorgon Is Billy’s Dark Reflection,” please check it out, as it goes hand in hand with this one. Thanks :D
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A few months ago, we all got our first look at some of the new characters for S4. I checked them out with great interest. 
“Lt. Colonel Sullivan... military dude in Hawkins... cool, makes sense. Victor Creel... ooooooh, played by Robert Englund, betcha he’s gonna be one of El’s predecessors. Eddie Munson... damn, he’s super sus. Argyle... Jonathan’s new bff, who delivers pizza for--”
I stopped.
And freaked. OUT.
Argyle delivers pizza for Surfer Boy Pizza.
Surfer Boy Pizza.
SURFER BOY PIZZA.
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A whole constellation of dots connected, and I knew IMMEDIATELY where this is heading. Let’s walk through it step by step... starting with the inception of Stranger Things itself.
The Duffers love the movie Jaws, to the point that they give it pride of place in their list of inspirations. Hell, Stranger Things probably wouldn’t have existed without it. Initially, as a homage to the movie, the show was set in a Long Island beach town called Montauk. The setting didn’t change until the Duffers began pre-production:
They began by scouting locations on the northern tip of Long Island, but the community - so integral to the script - didn’t look as they had imagined, and its distance from New York City made the idea of anchoring the production there unfeasible. A new approach was required. (Worlds Turned Upside Down, p 25)
After that, they rewrote the script to take place in Indiana, and “Hawkins was born.” 
Still, you can tell their love for Jaws lingered. Hopper’s truck looks like Martin Brody’s:
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Meanwhile, the Demogorgon was inspired by the shark, and the show isn’t shy about that fact. In S1, when Nancy explains her theory for what the Demogorgon is, she likens its bloodlust to that of a shark:
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In the final episode, when Nancy, Jonathan, and Steve are hiding from the Demogorgon in Will’s room, the Jaws poster hangs prominently in the left side of the frame:
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Furthermore, the Demogorgon’s behavior emulates that of the shark. Like Nancy points out, it hunts alone, emerging from the Upside Down (*COUGHTHEOCEANCOUGH*) to pick people off one by one. And though we don’t see its full form until the end, its presence haunts us throughout, infusing the story with dread.
Okay! So the Duffers originally set Stranger Things in a beach town, and the Demogorgon was inspired by the Jaws shark. Cool. What does this mean for us?
Everything.
Think about it. The Byers have moved to a new town. We aren’t sure where they went, but in S2 Bob suggested Maine. Maine is on the East Coast, not far from Long Island.
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And as you can see, it has hundreds of miles of beaches.
If the Duffers have any sense, they wouldn’t drop the Byers in another town like Hawkins. That would be redundant and hella boring. Instead, they would seize the opportunity to explore a new setting with a different feel. Not an inland town surrounded by woods and farmland, but... oh, idk... a beach town.
On top of that, the Byers’ move gives the Duffers the perfect opportunity to return to the show’s roots. Finally, they can bring Montauk to life.
If that’s what they’ve done, and the Byers have moved to a beach town, we’re headed for prime Billy territory.
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Billy OWNS the beach. In the context of the show, we get our first glimpse of a beach in his mind, for God’s sake. And he’s deeply connected to water as an element. He’s a surfer, lifeguard, swim instructor... need I say more?
He’s also likened to the Demogorgon - the monster inspired by the shark in Jaws.
I’ve already discussed the similarities between Billy and the Demogorgon. Those were fresh on my mind when I read Runaway Max for the first time. So, when I read this paragraph where Max describes the Camaro, I freaked out (I do that a lot):
Once, for two weeks back in April, I thought that Camaro was the coolest thing I’d ever seen. It had a long, hungry body like a shark, all sleek painted panels and sharp angles. It was the kind of car you could rob a bank in. (pp 12-13)
It’s a motherf***ing equation, y’all. Billy (by way of his Camaro) = the Demogorgon = the shark in Jaws.
And the Byers have just moved to a town where the local pizza place is called Surfer Boy Pizza.
A name like that doesn’t make sense unless they really are in a beach town.
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Hence why I completely lost my shit when I read about Argyle. When you take all the evidence together, it looks like the Duffers have set up a situation where, figuratively, our heroes will think they see a shark in the water (aka the Demogorgon). 
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But they’ll find out it’s not a shark. It’s a surfer boy coming back to shore.
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Hints and leaks have confirmed this idea so far. The Stranger Things social media accounts teased the following exchange last year:
“What if it’s the Demogorgon?” “It’s not the Demogorgon.”
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Just a couple weeks ago, we got our first photo of the Surfer Boy Pizza delivery truck (credit: strangerinsidebr on IG). And the writing on the side is telling.
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The writing in the center doesn’t say, “Surfer Boy Pizza delivered hot to your door.” It says, “Surfer Boy delivered hot to your door.” The ‘pizza’ is way off to the side.
They’re making a joke, guys. A fuckin joke.
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“Surfer boy delivered HOT to your door ;)”
Jokes aside, the potential for Billy’s intro scene is so CLEAR and VIVID that I took a stab at sketching out how it could happen. Obviously I don’t think it has to happen this way; the writers have plenty of wiggle room. But it illustrates the kind of scene I have in mind:
Episode 3: “The Survivor”
All this time, hints have been building that Billy is still alive. Creepy things keep happening that remind us of Will trying to communicate from the Upside Down in S1 (flickering lights, people feeling "haunted" by his "ghost," etc). At the end of the episode, a thunderstorm rolls into the Byers' beach town. Will and El are together at home, probably alone. As it's raining and thundering, strange things begin to happen that frighten them. They get a creepy phone call; the power goes out, but only at their house; etc. Remembering that horrific night three years ago, Will races to the window to look out. El follows him. Through the rain, they see a form swaying toward the house. Terrified, Will wants to leave, but El stops him. "But El, what if it's the Demogorgon?" "It's not the Demogorgon." They back away from the door and wait. To their shock, the chain unlocks by itself. The door opens, and their visitor walks in, looking like a drowned cat with a nosebleed. Billy.
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God, I’m freaking out again just writing all this out lololol. I need to go lie down. 
BILLY’S COMING BACK, BITCHES. 
Peace.  ✌️
»»————- ✼ ————-««
The “Billy Is Alive” Meta Series (So Far)
Billy Is Not a ‘B’ Character In Stranger Things
The First Rule of Analyzing Stranger Things: The Upside Down Is Symbolized By Water
The Lifeguard And The Rip Current: Our First Big Hint That Billy Is Alive
Why Haven’t We Seen Dacre On Set?
The Demogorgon Is Billy’s Dark Reflection
Frequently Asked Questions
For updates, follow the hashtag #billy is alive meta
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ironwoman359 · 3 years
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Completely agree on nagas being underutilized and having a ton of potential. Both as the whumpee and the whumper….
So now I have to know. Which do you prefer…(and maybe why…talk whumpy to me lol)
Naga whumper? Or naga whumpee…
cw: whump, captivity, dehumanization, possessiveness, abuse, torture, angst with little to no comfort
Oh, I am delighted you asked, friend...it's not like I just did a bunch of research on snake health for a bad things happen bingo fic* with a naga whumpee....it's not like doing so gave me MANY more ideas than I was able to fit into that one story...and its not like I have many thoughts on how nagas could fit into the traditional creature whump tropes (that I also was reading and rereading for 'research' while writing We Blankly Stare). This is going under a cut, because, like all my fics, it got longer than I meant it to. (also, to my regular followers who aren't into heavy whump, don't mind me as I go off on a tangent into a totally different fic community; you can skip this one if you need to; at the very least mind the content warnings <3)
SO, nagas. Beautiful creatures. Like centaurs, 'human' on the top and snake on the bottom. SO much lovely whump potential, either as whumpers or whumpees, but lets focus on the whumpee side for now. In no particular order...
Pet Whump:
Decorative collars set with jewels that compliment the pattern of their highly polished scales and delicate gold chains weaving their way along their body, equal parts jewelry and restraint. They are highly prized, beautiful things, and what is the point of owning one if not to show it off?
Inviting a crowd to come and watch them feed, demonstrating their dislocating jaws and sharp fangs as they toss rodents to them whole. Bonus angst points if raw meat actually makes your naga whumpee sick, or they can eat raw meat but cooked is better. Just because they look like a snake doesn't mean they eat like one
Is your naga whumpee poisonous? Have their owner remove their fangs or poison glands, leaving them utterly dependent on them for food (and utterly helpless if they do ever manage to escape)
Nagas bred in captivity, so the only life they've ever known is one of imprisonment. Do they even consider freedom as something attainable? Or do their owners have them convinced that they're better off like this?
Lab Whump:
Nagas that are actually human/snake hybrids created in laboratory experiments just to see if it was possible.
Nagas who are kept in order to produce venom, what the venom is for could be anything!
Nagas 'enhanced' with mind and/or body altering drugs or magic to serve in the military as the perfect warrior
Nags used for experiments and drug tests because they are seen as less than human
Torture Whump:
As is the case with most torture whump, the 'why' the whumpee is being tortured isn't really important here. Maybe they have information the whumper wants, maybe the whumper is trying to get revenge or hurt whumpee's team, maybe they're just cruel. This isn't really about the 'why' so much as it is the specific 'hows' that having a whumpee who is part snake provides.
Pulling/cutting off scales, pulling out or filing down fangs, clipping or tearing off claws (a creature whump classic)
Naga specific (this is more of a lizard thing than a snake thing, but nagas aren’t real, we make the rules here!) body part removal: cutting off the tail! It doesn’t matter that it grows back, it still hurts every time. (or maybe the tail doesn’t grow back, and the naga is left unable to ‘walk’ properly)
Rough iron collars around their neck attached to a ball and chain, bonus points if the length of the chain prevents them from rising to their usual 'standing' height.
Hang them from the ceiling with cuffs and chains by their tails; upside down, right-side up, however you choose!
My those snake bodies are long...I wonder how long they can stretch?
I have one word for you: thermoregulation. Reptiles cannot regulate their own body heat, they are dependent on their environment. This gives us a whole HOST of reptile-specific torture techniques:
temperature shock: dump them in freezing water or spray them with a high-pressure hose. Unpleasant for any kind of whumpee, for the naga whumpee this has the added bonus of being fatal very quickly if they aren't warmed up.
It's not good for a snake to be too HOT either, they need to cool their bodies off just as often as they need to warm them up (don't quote me precisely on that, snake tumblr). A whumper who keeps their naga under bright, hot lights nearly constantly so they're dehydrated, covered in blisters, and/or always feverish (can a naga get a fever? idk, up to you. snakes don't, but snakes don't have human torsos. we can be wishy washy with health issues)
So extreme heat and extreme cold are bad, but did you know that (while it's breed specific) most snakes lose its ability to thermoregulate at around 70 degrees Fahrenheit? When their body temperature drops below this (but not so low that we're in hypothermia territory), their movements are sluggish, they cannot/will not eat, and it is very easy for them to develop infections, scale rot, all sorts of problems. Does the whumper keep them in low temperatures to make them weak and pliable in their hands, easy to control? Does the whumper use these conditions as a punishment for bad behavior? Or give reprieve from them as a reward for good behavior? There’s just SO much that can be done with temperature alone! It’s one of the things that sets nagas apart from other creatures and THAT is one of the most criminally underused aspects, in my oh so humble opinion!
Other Fun Concepts:
Nagas with their tails trapped under rubble, unable to pull themselves free.
Nagas kept in a cage that's far too small for them, their body wrapped up so tightly they can barely move.
Did you know that when a snake's body temperature is too low, it can't digest its food? And that if it does eat something and then doesn't have the energy to digest it properly, it will either instinctually regurgitate that food back up or run the risk of the food literally rotting in its stomach? Take this knowledge into literally any of the pet or torture scenarios and you have some A+ snake specific whump
Tiny nagas! Like the western hognose snake or the ringneck snake, these little guys can fit in the palm of your hand! Apply literally any previously listed scenario to your tiny naga for instant fantasy g/t whump! also vore...that's not my scene but it was one of like, two things i found while looking for naga whump on tumblr earlier, so I feel obligated to mention it.
Giant nagas, YOU can fit in THEIR hands. Does that make them the whumper, or still the whumpee? You decide!
Water nagas! combine mer whump with naga whump and you’ve got a water snake to hurt!
Nagas with scale rot, respiratory infections, kinks in their spine, or other snake health issues, either from mistreatment from a whumper or natural causes.
As you can tell, I’ve been thinking a lot about this lately, lol. I hope you enjoyed, and if anyone writes anything based off these, I’d love to see it! Also, HAVE I been considering making a whump sideblog for awhile? yes. Did writing this post convince me to finally do it? Also yes. So I'll be over at @ironwhumper359 if you'd like to talk more whump with me, I’d be delighted to have you :)
*if you would like to read said bad things happen bingo fic, know that while it is labelled Sanders Sides, because that’s the fandom I mainly write it, the first chapter only has one character from the series in it and is honestly much more of an original whump piece than it is a fanfic. The second and third chapters are more fandom specific (though you’re of course still welcome to read them even if you’re not a sanders sides fan), but that first one can be read as stand-alone whump!
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xwasted-days · 3 years
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𝖘𝖆𝖋𝖊 𝖆𝖓𝖉 𝖘𝖔𝖚𝖓𝖉 || 𝖇.𝖍.
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Pairing: Billy Hargrove x Reader
A/N: It’s probably been done before, but I wanted to throw together a little song-fic based on Safe and Sound by Taylor Swift ft. The Civil Wars. I’m sappy and I like sad things. Also, this is my first tumblr fic, pls be nice. Requests are open and I have no tag-list, because it’s a new blog. 
Work Count: 2, 276
Complete Story Warnings: Major Character Death, Pure Angst, 10/10 sad. Also, probably language. 
The battle of Starcourt was turning in favor of the party and all therein, but war was never without casualty. 
Billy Hargrove had a questionable character and reputation among most in Hawkins. People wanted him as a friend or a fuck, and those that didn’t wanted him gone. Few succeeded in ever knowing Billy as more than the sad little king of his sad little hill, and even fewer knew the plights he faced at home. A minimal two: Max, the step sister, and Y/N, the girlfriend, who rushed into the center of the mall behind Mike Wheeler, unable to help as Billy threw himself in El’s path. Y/N moved before her mind could register: scrambling forward when Billy caught the mindflayer’s clawed gullet in his hands. Those beautiful, calloused hands with the feather-soft touch. She took another step forward, faltering as a tentacle dug into his left side, the sickening crunch of torn flesh and splintering ribs echoing in the building silence. The second hit came and she rushed forward again, slipping on fragments of broken glass. Y/N’s knees hit the ground hard, the sharp sting barely registering as the hits kept coming, clawing all around his torso. He screamed each time, every cry cutting off in a strangled garble at the sharp shock of another tentacle landing its blows. Billy screamed, daring the monster on, and Y/N screamed, begging it all to stop. 
The final blow landed in the center of Billy’s chest, silencing him. Max’s scream sounded somewhere behind her. 
As the mindflayer pulled away, thrashing, snarling, wailing in defeat, Y/N ran forward, slipping in rapidly pooling blood as she pulled Billy to her chest. 
I remember tears streaming down your face, when I said, “I’ll never let you go.”
The words, even as they left Y/N’s lips, felt like the deepest and most real thing she’d expressed since the moment he was taken by the mindflayer. 
Since the darkness had fallen over Hawkins, she’d felt vacant, plastic, unreal. She supposed the notion came first when Barb had gone missing; when the trio of sub-popular girls was first fractured. Everything seemed to fall apart until Y/N found out what really happened to Barb, what was haunting Will Byers, and what hunted the people of Hawkins.  
Life was a ceaseless ebb and flow of highs and lows; still, she never expected the tide to pull away as it was now. Nothing could compare to this feeling: her boyfriend tucked in her arms, fading away before her, was what would cause the tidal wave to break. 
Cool and fragile, the rapid thundering of his heart beneath Y/N’s palm, the salt of crystalline tears sliding off his angled pale, cheek, his hand gripping her arm as he clung to waning life. Billy opened his mouth, hoping for any words to form. None did. He felt the pain with each blow, but as the creature yanked itself away and Billy fell, there was no sensation. Nothing but an icy numbness. After his mom left, Billy prayed for nothing more than to lose his feeling, and now it was gone he wanted it back. 
He wanted it back because he wanted to stay with her. He’d always known he was a selfish bastard, but this instance wasn’t for himself. It was for her; his Y/N. The only girl he gave a shit about for longer than one night at a time. And now, he was going to lose her. “..I-” he struggled again, shivering in her arms. 
When all those shadows almost killed your light
“Shh,” Y/N cooed, bringing her hand up to brush sweaty, blonde curls off of his forehead, ignoring the scene that played out around them. Billy was never meant to get caught in this crossfire; he was meant to be as he always was: cocky, stupid, young and reckless. Seated atop his lifeguard seat, staring out over the crowds of Hawkins Community Pool as a king surveyed his kingdom. Instead, he was out there, vulnerable to to the upside down, taken as so many others had been.
Y/N glanced down at the gaping, bloody hole that forced the pale colored fabric of the shirt at Billy’s chest to dip inward, the rich, viscous, and sickly stain making her stomach churn. She bit hard on the inside of her cheek, a meager attempt at staunching her tears as she played strong for Billy’s sake. She felt his hand at her arm give a squeeze, her attentions drawing back toward the boy in her lap. Y/E/C eyes connecting to Billy’s steely blue ones again, she offered a shaky smile, her thumb smoothing along the arch of his cheek. 
I remember you said, "Don't leave me here alone…"
Billy’s voice was soft and hoarse, barely audible as the commotion of the party and the mindflayer fizzled on around them. The fair haired, beautiful boy Y/N had fallen so deeply for let out a soft grunt of protest at the ache, his body twitching involuntarily as pain coursed through him.
“Think you can get rid of me that easily, ya little shit?” Y/N asked with a gentle chuckle, keeping her shaky grin to ease Billy’s worry. Her tears flowed more freely now, slipping down her cheeks as she held him close. “Gotta try a whole helluva lot harder than that, Hargrove. You and me. California, remember?” 
The broken king of Hawkins High put on a woozy, pale-lipped smile and hiccupped on a sob, coughing after. A soft mist of blood peppered his lips and chin, staining his teeth crimson. California, their would-be paradise, far away from Indiana and all their worries. He’d sworn up and down that they would leave one day, go back to his home and flourish in ways unimaginable. His promise now seemed as broken as he was. He was fading. Y/N didn’t have enough time.
But all that's dead and gone and passed tonight.
The flutter of Billy’s heart was growing more and more faint, and the beats, which willed themselves with great difficulty, grew slower and slower in their efforts. 
Billy leaned his weight further into Y/N’s body, slack and woozy. All the coherency in his head fading. She had promised that wouldn’t leave, said she wouldn’t let go, but she had. Or hadn’t she? He could hardly tell, his vision fading in and out, gleams of purple and pink, the hazy sound of distant chatter. Billy felt his chest heave with a great gasp, and his jaw open and close with the effort of breath. It happened again, and again. He felt hands on his arms, squeezing, but he couldn’t register the effect of the sensation. He was cold, so cold. He wished so vehemently that he could ask Y/N what was going on, but Billy couldn’t seem to find his tongue. 
That’s a first, he thought, trying to squeeze back the person in his numbed fingers. Every bit of him was so cold, probably frozen from where he had been, lost in darkness with the delicate snowfall. He was sure another erratic breath would leave him in shards. His head lulled to the side, hardly-seeing eyes registering the plume of Y/H/C and a small streak of fiery red. He searched between them, hoping to register on either of the faces that peered down on him, but none came. He coughed, gagging on something oozing in his throat, feeling hands tighten and voices raise. 
Soft curls of blonde hair fell over her his forehead, even as Y/N pushed them away, shifting his weight so Billy’s head was more firmly pressed to her chest. He was growing more and more still, even as she and Max begged him to stay. The girl took a breath, fighting down the body-trembling sob that wedged in her throat. “Billy? Wake up, Billy, please?” She asked, watching a tear of her own fall down to slip against his cheek, rolling down onto his stubbled chin.
Billy took a deep, shuddering breath, so loud he scared himself. He'd forgotten to breathe, and the muted voices he heard in his haze kept him there. Her voice. The voice he listened to in the quiet solitude of a shared bedroom, or in the crowded halls of Hawkins High. The voice he grew to love before he could even remember what love felt like. The voice he wanted to hear for the rest of his life. 
He blinked, trying to clear the tears in his eyes, focusing on Y/N and Max hovering above him.
“....I’m sorry.” Billy shuddered as his eyes glossed over,  a sudden cloud overtaking his vision. The clarity of the world was fading into shapes, then shadows, and careening rapidly into darkness. There was a loud bang somewhere near him and had he retained the strength, he would have jumped. Another bang. And another. One, two. One, two. One. Two. One. Two, each pair of beats getting further and further apart. Billy breathed out, defeated, overcome by the realization that those noises were thuds of his heart stopping. He couldn't see, he couldn't feel, he couldn’t taste anything but the heavy black goop on his tongue, he could only smell the coppery, acrid stink of blood that clogged his sinuses. All that was left was hearing; Billy was caught listening to the terrible, awful rhythm of his once-small heart, stopping. He listened again, hoping to hear the voices, praying they would draw him out of it, but there was no sound. Nothing. Not even the beating of his heart. Just his remaining consciousness, slowly going black. Billy Hargrove was dead, he knew. He wanted to scream, to panic and cry, but nothing was there. 
He didn't see the light that everyone blathered about, he didn't feel the peace. He was the hollow, lifeless shell of a boy who could have been more than a lifeguard with an attitude problem. And he was dead. And he left her behind. 
His beautiful Y/N, whose voice and smiles and touches were forfeit to the darkness that consumed. 
Don't you dare look out your window, darling, everything's on fire. The war outside our door keeps raging on. Hold onto this lullaby, even when the music's gone. 
Y/N  felt the final, sickening beat of Billy’s heart beneath her hand. Another tear fell onto Billy’s face, then another. And another. Max whispered, begging her step brother to wake, her small hands shaking his bloodied shoulders to no avail. A hard, broken, centuries old sob tore through Y/N’s chest and echoed through the mall; the cry of everyone who had lost someone they loved for good. The cry that begged death to return a loved one to the land of the living that always fell on deaf ears. 
“Billy, please,” she whimpered, trembling fingers soothing the lifeless skin of the boy she loved. Every thought, hope, wish, and dream connected to him was gone, dead as he was. 
Jagged orange patterns began to dance on the ground all around them, and offered the girl nothing but a ghastly illumination along her lost lover’s gaunt, pale face. It made him look hollow, as if no happiness, no mischief, no curiosity had once been lurking behind those coy, gorgeous eyelids. His once tanned, golden flesh was sickly and pale, the adonis within snuffed out forever. Y/N  snarled and sobbed hard, holding Billy closer, hiding him from the sickening yellowed light of the fire that grew.
She heard feet scramble around as the party gathered, their footfalls echoing like hard beat of the drums of war.
Villains never prevailed. Heroes never lived. No one was ever truly saved. Y/N’s shoulders caved and shook as she sobbed, broken and holding onto Billy’s body. Stifling a hiccup, she sighed sadly and started humming and rocking him back and forth; their song mumbled on tear-stained lips. She was chained to her place on the ground, lost. 
She didn’t see the others there, she couldn’t hear their words. She didn’t take notice when Max hid her face in El’s shoulder and sobbed for her lost brother.  
The world around her was crumbling into vacant nothingness and Y/N felt herself heave with another sob. She leaned back, her blood stained fingers gently brushing the infallible, pure flesh of Billy’s cold cheek, smoothing the tears she’d left there away with another broken whimper. “I love you…” She whispered longingly, her voice needy and raspy. 
A hand pressed to Y/N’s shoulder. It didn’t matter whose it was. It wasn’t his. And she hated that it pulled her back. The distant thrum of helicopters rattling in the skies, the sobs that left Max as she cried, the soft sniffles that sounded from El as she sat in mourning solidarity with her friend. Steve’s voice low as sirens began to wail in the streets. 
“Y/N. We gotta go,” Steve said, joined at her flank by Robin, whose thin hand came to rest on Y/N’s arm. She didn’t move. She couldn’t move. She couldn’t leave him. Another sob leaving her, Robin leaned forward to rest her head on Y/N’s shoulder, rubbing her arm gently as she could, tears flooding her own eyes as she looked across to Steve’s battered face. 
Harrington hated Hargrove with all he had, but he didn’t deserve this. Y/N didn’t deserve this. Nostrils quivering as he fought to keep strong, he gave Robin a solemn nod. Together, they helped place Billy on the ground where he fell and pull Y/N back, consoling her as she cried. 
Just close your eyes. The sun is going down You'll be alright.  No one can hurt you now Come morning light, you and I'll be safe and sound.
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songtoyou · 3 years
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Chapter Three: Don’t Then
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Paring: Ransom Drysdale x Fabiola Rossi (OC)
Story Rating: This story will mostly be rated 18+ as it is revolves around a relationship that is Dominant/submissive. For each chapter, I will do my best to rate it accordingly, but please know that the overall story will have very adult themes.
Chapter Rating: Rated R.
Warnings: Swearing, BDSM themes, public hand job.
Word Count: 3,019
Story Summary: Huge “Ransom” Drysdale always thought of himself as a powerful man. With his family’s money and status, Ransom could get away with anything. He had the power and control others would envy. Ransom could get any woman he wanted with a snap of his fingers. He was always in charge. He commanded attention. And he hated it. Never having a job in his life (thanks to his mother, father, and grandfather always there to supplement his bank account) or any real-life goals, Ransom felt incomplete and directionless. That is until Fabiola Rossi entered his life and turned it completely upside down.
Chapter summary: Fabiola and Ransom go on their first date. They are having a good time until someone stops by to ruin the evening. 
A/N: It has literally been a year since I have updated this story. I apologize about that and hope to not take as long for the next chapter.
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I do not permit any of my fics to be distributed on other sites without my permission.
Taglist:  @winchwm, @patzammit​
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With any sexual partner, it is vital to maintain the separation of fantasy and reality. Sexual activities deemed “kinky” do not always result in instant gratification moments like movies, books, and television tend to show. Many considerations need to be involved when partaking in the acts of BDSM, such as personal feelings and possible risks. It is crucial for the Dominant to not put his or her Submissive in any uncomfortable scenarios and vice versa. BDSM interactions need to be steeped in solid communication, along with the collaboration of willingness to take personal responsibility for one’s actions and choices.
For Fabiola, she was determined to make sure that Ransom understands the essential aspects of BDSM interactions. Since he was new to BDSM, particularly as a submissive, it was her duty to help guide him throughout this unique experience. It was a responsibility that Fabiola never took for granted when it came to being a Domme. It was her duty to protect and guide her Subs when playing a scene. She loved being a Domme.
Currently, Fabiola was standing beside her closet, picking our different outfits to see what would look best for tonight. She wanted something casual and nothing too fancy. So, Fabiola opted for her dark red bandage dress with strappy side cutouts, a halter neck, and an open back with zipper closure that flattered her figure. She accompanied the dress with a black bicker chic crop jacket. Fabiola adorned the ensemble with black peep-toe ankle boots with lace embroidery and buckles, along with a black clutch. Her long hair was curled to cascade down her shoulders in waves, with red lips and dark eyeliner highlighting her facial features.
Fabiola instructed Ransom to pick her up at 8:00 PM at her apartment, and not a minute over. One thing she wanted to do was implement structure and consistency with Ransom. She desired to get him in the habit of being responsible and taking accountability. Fabiola figured that was the best place to start.
As Fabiola finished up getting ready, she heard her cellphone buzz. Thinking it was Ransom, she quickly reached for the device only to deflate. It wasn’t Ransom.
Jonathan: I need to see you. I can’t stop thinking about you, Fabiola. Please give me another chance.
Fabiola let out a frustrated groan when she read the message. Jonathan was her former boyfriend/submissive who appeared not to get the hint that things with them were over. The guy was too clingy for Fabiola to handle. He always wanted to be around her. He wanted more than what she was able to give him.
Fabiola: I can’t talk right now. I’m busy. 
Jonathan: Please! I need you!
Fabiola: NO! I told you that what we had is over. Now stop contacting me!
With a sigh, Fabiola put her phone in her clutch. ‘If you don’t want him to contact you, then block his number,’ Fabiola’s inner voice scolded her.
It wasn’t like Fabiola hadn’t thought about it. However, there was a part of her that couldn’t do it. She liked Jonathan. He was special to her. And some part of Fabiola still felt responsible for him.
She took out her phone and brought up the message chain.
Fabiola: Jonathan, I’m sorry. Look, I really can’t talk right now. How about tomorrow?
‘You’re an enabler!’ her inner voice yelled.
Jonathan: Yes! Thank you! Talk to you tomorrow, sweetheart. 😊
Fabiola rolled her eyes.
Thankfully, she didn’t have to stew over Jonathan’s messages for too long when the doorbell rang. She looked at the time, which read eight o’clock. She opened the door, and there was Ransom dressed to perfection. He wore all black from his jacket, shirt, slacks, and shoes. Very casual but still sophisticated. Fabiola could only guess Ransom’s clothes’ cost, which she knew each piece had to have been from a top designer.
“Hi,” Fabiola greeted. “You’re right on time.”
“I figured you’d count it against me if I didn’t,” Ransom confessed. He looked Fabiola up and down. “You look outstanding.”
“Thank you. So do you,” Fabiola complimented and walked out of her apartment to lock it up. 
Ransom offered Fabiola his arm, which she took, and walked her to his car. He would show that he could be a perfect gentleman since he was the one who recommended they go out for the night before returning to her place.
He wanted to relax but also show Fabiola a good time. Wining and dining women was one of Ransom’s specialties.
“So, where are we going?” Fabiola implored as she looked over at the man next to her.
“I figured I would take you to Yvonne’s. It’s a restaurant and bar. Nice atmosphere. Cool décor. You ever been?”
“No, never been,” she answered.
“I think you’ll like it.”
The remaining drive to the restaurant was quiet. It was as if neither knew what to bring up to start a conversation, which was not surprising. Ransom and Fabiola still didn’t know much about one another.
“How is your writing coming along since we last saw each other?” Fabiola probed as the quietness was getting to her. She figured asking Ransom about his writing was the safest conversation starter.
“Uh,” Ransom began as he steered his car through traffic. “It is…well, to be honest, I’m kind of stuck. I don’t know where to take the story next.”
Fabiola nodded in understanding. “Writer’s block. All too common. You know, some writers have shared with me how they combat writer’s block. You want to hear?”
“All ears.”
“Do you ever develop a list of favorite things your characters like, such as food, music, television shows, all that stuff? A writer told me they did that to help flesh out characters. That way, it helped to steer them where they needed to go within the story. Another writer told me that they would write one-shots where a character would do something different outside of the overall story. That way, you’re still getting your creative writing juices flowing instead of stewing and feeling bad about yourself for not writing,” Fabiola advised.
In all honesty, Ransom appreciated the advice. He was not used to kindness from another person who did not appear to want anything from him, at least not regarding his money or status. With Fabiola, he could tell that she was genuine with her advice offering.
After another fifteen minutes of mindless chitchat, Ransom pulled into a parking lot. He put the car in park and got out. Ransom hurried to the passenger door to help Fabiola out of the car, but she got out before he could open the door for her. 
“I’m sorry,” Fabiola giggled. “I never know if a guy is going to do that or not. I’ll let you open the door for me next time.”
With a chuckle, Ransom offered his arm once again and guided his date to the restaurant. Ransom was not kidding when he said that Yvonne’s décor was “cool.” Heck, it was more than that; it was fabulous. For Fabiola, it looked like gothic Alice in Wonderland, with its bookcases, elegant chandeliers, and other abstract lighting and art along the walls. Fabiola mainly got a kick out of the numerous skulls outlining the front of the bar.
“This place is amazing,” she gushed to Ransom.
“I had a feeling you would,” he smiled at her. Ransom was happy he was able to do something right.
They were greeted by the hostess and then escorted to their reserved table. 
“I’m so tempted to go up to those bookshelves and check out what they got,” Fabiola raved as she continued to take in her surroundings. 
Ransom tried to hold back his smile as he watched Fabiola. She looked like a kid in a candy store. He couldn’t fathom how this beautiful before him was a domme when she had the sweetest and, at times, goofy disposition. Fabiola was just who she was, carefree. Or at least that is what she presented on the outside. He wondered if she had any skeletons in her closet. 
He put down the wine/cocktail menu and leaned his arms on the table. “Tell me something, Ms. Rossi,” he began, “What makes you…tick?”
She quirked one of her perfectly tweezed eyebrows at Ransom, “What do you mean?”
“Like, what drives you crazy? What annoys you?”
“Oh, that is easy. The answer to that is stupid people. I have an extremely low tolerance to people who willingly choose to be ignorant,” she answered and grabbed the wine/cocktail menu. “What about you?”
“My family. They are the worst. You’d hate them for sure. But I won’t spoil the evening talking about them.”
“How about we order drinks,” Fabiola suggested as she continued to look at the drink menu. “Help us relax more, eh. What’s monkey shoulder?” she asked Ransom as she pointed to the drink that was called ‘Monkeys In A Pear Tree’ that had monkey shoulder, spiced pear, vanilla, almond, and orange bitters.
“It’s a blended malt scotch whiskey. It’s rather good. You should try it. Not with all that other shit in the drink, just the whiskey.”
“Yeah, I don’t need all that sugar. And I’m not a whiskey girl, unfortunately. I think I’ll go with a glass of wine,” Raina pointed out.
Ransom took the list back and perused the assortments of wine offerings. “How about I get us a bottle. Red or white?”
“Let’s go with red. You pick.”
Waving a waiter over, Ransom ordered a bottle of the red 2017 Syrah. It was a good wine. Not too sweet, but not too “woody” tasting as some would describe certain red wines. With their glasses filled, both opted to go for the shareable plate items—nothing too heavy, just enough to satisfy their stomachs. 
While they waited, Fabiola scooted her chair closer to Ransom. They were seated at a corner table with dim lighting. No one would be able to see what Fabiola was about to do. She placed one of her manicured hands on his thigh. Fabiola began to move her hand up and down. As Fabiola trailed her hand higher up Ransom’s thigh, she watched his face for any reaction that she should stop. When she didn’t see any hesitation from him, she rested her hand against the bulge in his pants. Fabiola squeezed it, and Ransom almost jumped from his seat. 
Ransom felt Fabiola begin to unbuckle his belt and lower the zipper. He looked around the restaurant to make sure no one was looking over at their table. Fabiola let out a little chuckle.
“Do you want me to stop?” she asked him.
He shook his head ‘no.’ “I need you to voice it, Baby Hughie,” Fabiola ordered him in a low voice while she continued to rub him out. He stirred in his seat as she slipped a hand under his briefs.
“Don’t stop,” Ransom managed to breathe out. His cock was almost rock hard.
Fabiola continued to stroke him. Back and forth. Nice and slow. Agonizingly slow. Ransom began to move his hips to try to increase the friction against his cock. 
“Look at you. So needy. You want to cum, don’t you? Is that what you want? You want to cum in a public setting, Baby Hughie?” teased Fabiola as she leaned over and began to kiss Ransom from his neck to his ear. “I want to see how long I can tease you before you eventually beg me to let you cum.”
Even when the waiter brought their food (who was oblivious to what was going on under the table), Fabiola did not remove her hand from Ransom’s pants. She ate her food with her other hand while she continued to stroke his cock with the other. Sometimes Fabiola would bring her fork to Ransom’s mouth so he would eat when she noticed he was barely touching his food. 
When Ransom felt a thumb rub his tip, he let out a low groan. “I need to cum,” he whispered through clenched teeth.
“I know you do, but I’m not going to allow it,” was all Fabiola said and continued to eat her food. 
It was only when she was finished eating that she stopped stroking Ransom’s cock and removed her hand from his pants. She assisted in zipping and buckling Ransom back up to make sure he looked presentable. Fabiola stood up from the table. She handed Ransom one of the clean napkins. “Wipe the sweat from your forehead and drink some water. I’m going to go wash my hands.” 
As Ransom watched Fabiola’s retreating form, he leaned back in his chair and let out a loud sigh. Reaching for his wine glass, he downed the contact in one gulp and poured himself another. Ransom squeezed his own junk as it was still hard. He began to think about other things to stifle the hardness. ‘Family reunions. Aunt Joni in a bathing suit. Grandma in a bathing suit.’ Ransom throughout in his head. 
Unsurprisingly, they worked. His stiffened cock was beginning to recede. Gulping down another glass of wine, Ransom poured himself another. He didn’t quite know how to feel at that moment. He was unsatisfied with not being allowed to cum, but also intrigued with how turned he felt. 
The feeling of not being in control was all-new for Ransom. At that moment, it was Fabiola who called the shots. She told him that he was not allowed to cum. He noticed the chastising tone in her voice when she ordered him to wipe off his sweat and drink water. Normally, Ransom would scoff at someone commanding to do things, but there was something incredibly erotic when Fabiola did it. He picked up his napkin and began to wipe off the sweat from his forehead. He drank his water and waited for the woman, who excited and astounded him, to return.  
Unfortunately, Ransom’s euphoria came to a crashing halt when he heard, “Hey, son. What are you doing here?”
Ransom looked up to see his father, Richard Drysdale, standing before him. “What the Hell are you doing here?” Ransom retorted coldly. 
Ignoring his son’s cold tone and icy glare, Richard took it upon himself to take a seat at the table. He began picking the food off of the plates and took Ransom’s glass of wine to sip for himself. 
“You got a date?” Richard probed his son. 
Ransom let out a frustrated groan. He needed to get out of here. “Is mom here as well, or are you with one of your side pieces?” 
Before Richard could reply, Fabiola came back to the table. She was caught off guard by the new addition who was eating their food and drinking their wine. “Sorry I took so long. I got caught up talking to a woman who wanted to know where I purchased my shoes, then we got off tangent, and well…I’m back now. Who is this?”
“No one important,” Ransom replied.
Richard glared at his son but hid his animosity with a laugh. “He’s a kidder that one. Hi, I’m Richard Drysdale. Ransoms’ father,” he introduced himself. Richard stuck his hand out for Fabiola. Which she accepted with the hand that was previously stroking his son’s cock. 
“Fabiola Rossi.”
“Well, aren’t you beautiful,” Richard complimented. Ransom noticed a look in his father’s eyes. He knew that look. It was the look Richard always had when he wanted a woman that was not his wife. 
“Again, I ask, what are you doing here?” Ransom again asked his father.
Richard looked over at the bar with Ransom and Fabiola following suit. They saw Richard wave a young woman who waved back. “I’m here for a business dinner.”
“Bullshit.”
Ransom knew that his father was having an affair. Everyone in the family knew, except for Linda. But that was his mother. She would rather ignore the problems in her marriage and family while pretending everything is perfect. 
“Look, son, I didn’t mean to crash your date. I just stopped by to say ‘hi,’ that is it,” Richard pointed out.
Ransom merely scoffed. “Okay. You said your ‘hi,’ now leave.”
“Actually, Ransom, I think we should start heading out,” Fabiola spoke up while looking around for their waiter.
“I didn’t mean to cut your evening short,” said Richard as he got up from the table. He stood there awkwardly for a few seconds before bidding adieu and going back to his “business dinner.”
Pinching the bridge of his nose, Ransom was more than annoyed; he was fuming. He was ready to blow, and Fabiola could see it. She watched as Ransom pulled out a couple of hundred bills from his wallet and stood up. She stood up as well gathered her jacket and clutch. Following Ransom’s lead out of the restaurant, Fabiola was only a few steps behind him as they walked to the car. He stopped in front passenger door side and turned around. He watched as Fabiola put on her jacket.  Her hair was lightly blowing in the night wind. His father was right; she was beautiful.
Moving towards Fabiola, Ransom ran his hands up and down her arms to help warm her up. “I’m sorry about that,” he said, indicating what happened in the restaurant with his father. “My dad…he isn’t someone I…”
“It’s fine, Ransom. Let’s not have him ruin the rest of our night. You still want to come over, right?”
Ransom leaned his forehead against Fabiola’s before pressing his lips against hers. He didn’t deepen the kiss and retreated after only a couple of seconds. Ransom went back to resting his forehead against Fabiola’s while she stroked his left cheek.
“Tell me what you want?” she asked him.
Ransom looked into her eyes like he was searching for something. He sighed at what felt like the hundredth time that night. “I don’t know what I want. That is the problem. All I do know is that I don’t want to be like him. I don’t want to be my dad.”
Fabiola nodded her head in understanding. “Don’t then.”
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vaguely-concerned · 3 years
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The Mandalorian season 2 ep 1 AGAIN! it’s the rewatch folks
- The entire last season reminder/intro scene is kind of clunky and we’re-hitting-you-over-the-head-with-this, but I think it’s important to note that it’s probably meant for the vast majority of people who watched this stuff once a wholeass year ago, and not for me, the crazy person who watched each episode at least five times lol
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I like the way mando & bb walk from darkness into brief light and back into darkness here... the directors keep finding such cool ways of using the armour cinematically, there must be some lighting considerations to be made when your main character is essentially a walking disco ball. I enjoy the mood of this planet too -- the distant lights, the way the sky isn’t quite dark like there’s a city providing some light pollution nearby (it’s a bit clearer as he walks further into the... town? that it’s not just sunset, the sky is lit up weirdly) 
also when din moves towards the camera and out of sight in this first appearance, the signet is the very last thing that leaves the frame! I just thought that was sweet, a clan of two :’)
- shotout to these two lads and their boldly absolutely inexplicable hat choices (I love gratuitous star wars crowd scenes you guys)
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those tacky gold sequins on her sleeves... immaculate, beautiful, someone sat through like full body makeup application to be on screen a literal split second, that good good sw nonsense
- oh I didn’t notice before but I think those gladiator dudes are using vibroaxes! I guess they have the technology to portray it in live action now after the vibroblades in the first season
- the way bb glances up at din like ‘hey dad. dad what the fuck???’ as one gomorrean nearly chops the arm off the other fjaslfds
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- when you look for it it’s comically obvious that those guys are working for the dude mando’s meeting, they’ve all got more or less the same dark uniform and don’t look much at the fight haha. they might as well have ‘hired thugs’ stamped upon their foreheads
- I like how pared down and spare the music is in this fight scene, it’s just the faint whine of the electric guitars under the thuds of meat hitting metal 
also still love how din fights, the fact that he doesn’t even try to not get hit a lot of the time, he’s just tanking through it waiting for someone to fling themselves at him in a way he can exploit to take them out
the bouncer seems to be holding something like sci-fi handcuffs when he grabs din and lifts him off his feet, so he probably meant to restrain him quickly. bonus: I didn’t notice it the first time around, but din really went straaaaaiiight for this dude’s gentleman area once he dropped him back on his feet lol (you can even see him taking a split second to orient himself and take aim first fhsdkfhas). good job space cowboy dad, sometimes fighting smart means fighting dirty
- leaving this awful dude hanging upside down to get eaten after employing some very deliberate phrasing so he’s not even breaking his word is the ruthless HEIGHT of mando’s hilarious petty streak and it makes me cackle, gives me life, waters my crops    
- oh, the palpable loneliness and longing in din’s voice when he says ‘if I can track down another of my kind’ ;_______; I’m sorry buddy
- may we speak for a moment about the fact that din carries his son around in what seems very much to be a saddle bag sdafjkhsa
- the way din checks in with peli (to see if she’s fucking with him? he’s very confused anyway haha) over the map before saying “I don’t see anything” is so precious. he already seems much more socially tuned in and responsive compared to the beginning of season 1, you love to see it, coming out of that freeze response baBEY
- I can’t get over how much the baby loves speed, this is coming back to bite you so hard if you’re ever going to have to teach this kid how to drive one day mando
- awwww the little patented mando finger curl as he enters the bar <3<3<3 that’s sort of his tell for being preoccupied/anxious; I think finding other mandos, someone to trust and to get help from, means A Lot to him  
once he sees the marshall in the armour his shoulders drop down and he stands up straighter :’) hope is a powerful thing (I guess all of this might add even more to how angry he is too)
the DEAD STOP when cobb takes the helmet off sdkfhkajsldhfsdk
- yodito putting his lil mouth on the lip of this jar thing is such a well observed little quirk of baby behaviour, I’m crying
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(there is liquid of some sort in this thing; I’ve seen some people theorize it’s a spittoon but for my own peace of mind I’m going to forcefully declare that it is not thank you)
- so much stuff packed into that “He’s seen worse”!! dismissal, self-deprecation, sorrow, resignation, warning. 
- the contrast in this standoff of vanth’s eastwood eye twitch and the complete deadpan impassiveness of din’s helmet and general demeanor... wonderful  
- upon rewatching I’m actually wondering if some of these scenes with the baby on his own were filmed independently of the actors and that it might add to that slight distracting feeling of disconnect/distance you get through the episode. (it’s sort of odd to me that mando doesn’t even glance down at him as the whole place starts to shake, for example) there must be a lot of stuff that comes down to technical considerations with the baby; I suspect it takes a lot of time and resources to have him walking around too much, which is why The Waddle is kind of a rare treat   
what I’m saying is that they may be saving up dad & baby interaction resources for episodes where it’s more relevant or important
- so is this a one bantha town or is it just for convenient film language reasons it was all alone in frame like that lol
also cobb’s ‘mondays amirite’ look fdsakjfhsjk 
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- since I think it every time I get to this part: this is a very neat hairstyle this person is rocking, suits them! 
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- ah the stern pointer finger of emphasis. din TALKS, no, COMMUNICATES so much in this episode you guys!!!!! 
- rip this tusken, the bravest person who ever lived
- the delivery of “...they might be open to some fresh ideas” is the funniest moment of this entire episode don’t @ me
- oh the kotor-ness of it all lol
- jill (the girl who hands cobb the detonator) is so cute with her hat and everything ;____; 
- I suppose these tuskens are really the bravest people to ever live considering they saw what happened to the last guy (or gal I suppose I don’t know how sand people gender works)
- baby needs some goggles to protect his giant eyes from wind and sand Y___Y
- they’ve nailed how to make the jetpacks work in live action, it looks really cool and I suspect it easily could have uh. not 
- this poor sacrificial bantha... it even tried to get away
- ooooh the heart eyes -- cobb 100% has a crush on this man jfsdflhsad. (with it being sort of unrequited/’oh man I’m behind about 150 layers of dissociation too many to even really consider that one way or the other bud’ from mando’s side #personal headcanon disclaimer)    
- my take on why din doesn’t get dissolved in acid in there is that that stuff is released from a specific gland or something that the dragon can unleash at will and that the spit itself doesn’t have that quality on its own (or at least it’s a lot less potent) 
- seems pretty well confirmed by now that yodito is a carnivore huh hahaha
- I find it obscurely satisfying that cobb seems to be wearing exactly his old outfit under the armour -- he did just strap it on on top of what he already was. (there’s something there -- he’s a whole thing still without the armour, and at this time at least din would not be I don’t think) just some good narrative foil stuff going on here under the surface
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also once again props to the costume design; without the armour he looks so vulnerable again, they have dressed him to emphasise his height and slenderness (especially compared to mando, who actually seems to have bulked up a bit? fatherhood suits him I guess)    
plus, the way the baby looks questioningly up at din while he watches cobb walk away? yeah, din is lonely, let this poor man have a friend who stays around soon T______________T
- heeey boba, nice threads! my guess is that he’s not going to be there for the armour if he does track din down, since he hasn’t seemed to be in any haste to get it back before (which is interesting!). he might also have been unable to go looking for it before because he was still recovering from being half digested, of course, they could play it a lot of different ways
I wonder if we’ll get more of him in the next ep or if they’ll let the tension ramp up through the season 
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bubble-tea-bunny · 5 years
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pool flamingo
[rohan kishibe x reader]
author’s note: idk why i’m so obsessed w rohan but i’m not tryna fight it
word count: 2,188
In the midst of summer, the heat grows to levels of moderate discomfort before the clocks even strike noon, so that when it finally is twelve o’clock, with the sun in the center of the sky, the temperature is nothing less than absolutely sweltering, and it would remain as such until the later hours of evening. A reprieve from the relentless intensity is never truly achieved until the skies turn orange and then black, and the sun is replaced by the moon.
The weather gives Rohan the perfect excuse to remain inside, working tirelessly on the newest volume of Pink Dark Boy. Though it isn’t as if he needs an excuse, and he has no shame in turning down invitations to lunch or whatever else comes his way, with the blunt explanation that he much prefers to spend his time continuing his manga.
He hunches over his desk, pen flying, sectioning out each page into the appropriate number of panels, drawing scene after scene. The first draft is the final draft, the shading and the line work clean the first time around, as is to be expected. His deadline is the end of the week but he’ll be able to send it in for publishing before then.
His focus is broken at the sound of footsteps padding down the hallway and he pauses, careful to lift the nib of his pen from the paper to avoid leaving a dark spot. He listens closely as the thud of bare feet on wood flooring becomes louder while passing by the door to his study, then fading as they move away. They come back, however, now accompanied by a knock on the door.
“Rohan, come out and join me!”
Your voice is chipper, easy to surmise even though muffled. Rohan shakes his head despite the fact you can’t see, and speaks up to be heard from across the room and through the door.
“I’m busy.”
It’s quiet on the other side for a few moments, but you’re not one to be discouraged. You push on. “It’s not so bad today! There’s a breeze!”
You really are trying, aren’t you? Rohan will never tell you that had been the only prodding required, that he is already convinced and yes, he’ll go out and join you, because that would go to your head, the realization that you don’t need much to convince him of anything. And he couldn’t be having you get supercilious. There is just room for one like that in this relationship, and he had already taken it for himself.
He replaces the cap on his pen and sets it to the side before he stands, stretching his arms and rolling his shoulders. His muscles seem to sigh in relief, for his posture when he’s deeply concentrated is nothing short of atrocious. He doesn’t notice how long he sits, hours flying by like seconds. You’d scolded him more than once on the occasion you had come into his study with a snack and a reminder for him to rest his eyes, lamenting that he was much too young to start giving himself long-term back and neck pain. He would always wave you off and tell you he’s fine, but your soft admonition to at least do his best to take regular breaks sits in the back of his mind. He’s working on it.
As he steps away from his desk, he glances at the clock, which shows him that it’s mid-morning. If he had to guess, he had been drafting the new volume for a couple of hours so far today. That was time for you to wake up, make breakfast, and decide this was another perfect day for your summer activity of choice.
Rohan’s hand curls around the doorknob and he pulls it back, revealing you on the other side, still standing patiently, watching him expectantly. He feigns disdain, huffing loudly, but you’re undeterred, and perhaps he is wrong and there is indeed space for both of you to be smug, because the look in your eyes makes it clear you know exactly how tightly wound Rohan is around your pinky.
“Must I?” But Rohan can’t help but tease, tugging on the reins a bit, if only to see your reactions.
You scoff at the absurdity of the question and laugh. “Yes, you must! I don’t want to be out there by myself!”
The corner of Rohan’s mouth lifts, a small smile betraying his amusement. “Fine then. I won’t let you flounder around on your own.”  
You smile too, satisfied that he is finally agreeing. “Thank you,” you respond playfully.
“Where would you be without me?” Rohan muses, staring down at you.
“I dunno.” You shrug. “But I’d be a lot lonelier.”
Perhaps it is the matter-of-fact tone with which you say this that makes his heart jump with something like love, and there is the nearly imperceptible melting away of a small piece of his haughty facade. You pick up on it of course—you are nothing if not observant—but you stay quiet because you know such fondness is entirely unbecoming of the great Rohan Kishibe, and you wouldn’t embarrass him by addressing it and forcing him to admit it out loud. His heart skips another beat and maybe it isn’t with something that is just like love.
“I’ll be out there in a few minutes,” he informs you.
“You better!”
He watches you walk down the hall and disappear around the corner, and chuckles as he turns back into his study to grab a few materials to bring downstairs with him.
Even if Josuke had done him the disservice of burning down his house, Rohan hadn’t been particularly bothered. Well, not about the house. Witnessing the structure go up in flames had further fueled his hatred for the high schooler, yes, but the matter of rebuilding left him indifferent. He had the money to do it and to make any new renovations he so pleased. One such addition to the Kishibe residence, version 2.0, was a pool.
He had it built for you. You would frequently visit the community pool, spending a couple of hours swimming, until your fingers were pruned and the chlorine had thoroughly seeped into your hair, prompting you to make a beeline straight for the shower upon arriving at his house. You basically live in the water, and he wanted to give you a space to swim privately, where you could have the whole pool to yourself.
And when he says it had been just for you, he meant it. Once the others had discovered what he did to the backyard, he promptly shut down any of their ideas of having a pool party. It was only at Koichi’s insistence that he had allowed it, on a particularly hot Saturday a couple of weeks ago. Thinking back on it now, he supposes it wasn’t awful, since you seemed happy to have everyone there. But even despite that, he isn’t keen on having another party anytime soon.
The light blue water glistens blindingly due to the sun and Rohan has to squint as he steps outside. White pool chairs are positioned in the shade, and he settles down in one as he observes you where you kneel on the flagstone, right at the edge of the pool, pushing giant floats into the water: first a dinosaur, then a unicorn, and lastly, a flamingo. You bought them because of the pool Rohan added, for there would never have been enough room at the community pool to use anything bigger than a simple tube. Now, you like to keep your eye out for more fun ones to add to your collection.
You watch the flamingo drift into the center, leaving gentle ripples in its wake, and then you stand, shedding your shorts and loose shirt to reveal your red one piece swimsuit. You leave your clothes in a small pile on the ground, then waste no more time diving in. Your fluid form and smooth descent make merely a quiet splash, and your figure is wavy and unfocused beneath the water, simply a group of colors moving beneath the surface. Several seconds later, you pop your head up.
“Are you sure you don’t want to come in?” you inquire.
Rohan sits back and shakes his head. “I’m fine here.”
You grin. “Suit yourself.” You dive back under.
The heat is considerably less severe in the shade, but it’s still warm enough that Rohan’s thoughts are on the air conditioner, and how wonderful it would feel while he works on his manga. He has no qualms about keeping the air on full blast, as it was currently, the rooms kept cool for your return back indoors. Better to be too cold than too hot.
His newest volume is almost finished now, a few pages short, and he’s itching to get back to it. He tries to feel exasperated about being outside, playing it off as if he’d been dragged out here by no will of his own, just as he feels whenever someone asks if he’d like to go out (And bear this weather? he asks, upfront about how stupid he thinks the suggestion is. Forget about it.) But you aren’t just someone, and Rohan wouldn’t ever be irritated with you. So for once, he forces himself to relax and endure the warmth. And you’re right—at least there is a breeze today.
A quiet clack grabs his attention and Rohan opens his eyes to see you reaching out for your sunglasses which you had set on the side to keep dry. You set them on your head and drift over to the flamingo, clambering on a little clumsily due to the wetness of your skin. The pink vinyl squelches as you maneuver your way onto the flamingo, and once you’re finally on, you roll onto your back, sighing contentedly and sliding your sunglasses over your face.
They’re heart-shaped and a shade of red to match your suit. Rohan likes them. He thinks they look good on you. And he also thinks you belong on a magazine cover or a two-page spread, a picture to complement the paragraphs dreaming of a perfect summer, of the hot sun and cold water, of wet hair and the smell of chlorine (or salt, if one finds themselves at the beach). He can’t tell if you’ve fallen asleep, but you look so peaceful, so at ease, and deep down he will admit, though scornfully, that Josuke’s screw-up did have an upside.
Rohan reaches down to the sketchbook and pen he had brought outside with him, and flips to a blank page. His gaze shifts from the paper up to you then back down again, as he recreates the scene before him in black ink, smooth, clean lines trailing across the expanse until it all comes together—clothes discarded on the stones, the blinding water, the flamingo float. Then the subject, the main focus, the sum and substance: you stretched out and relaxed, coaxing the viewer to follow your lead, to let the stress melt from their shoulders and to join you in your stillness.
All he has left is to sign the bottom corner, but while drawing had been the initial distraction from the heat, you’re the main attraction, and he stares at you instead. Rohan prides himself on his accuracy when he draws but when it came to you, there was nothing better than the real thing. And he’d attempted to before, to capture the full essence of your person—the light of your smile and the inexplicable charm you exude when your hair is wet and tangled and drops of water cling to your lashes—as evidenced by the previous pages of the sketchbook he holds, filled with pictures of you. He might never get there, might never reach the point he’s satisfied with his depiction, but he’d never stop trying.
You notice how closely he is watching you and you turn to look at him. You lower your sunglasses slightly, until your eyes are visible, and you smile, asking what it is he’s drawing.
But you know. Of course you do. So rather than teasing, he lets you have this one and tells you exactly what he is drawing. Your smile widens and you hum, returning your sunglasses to their original position. Even from off to the side, he spots the flush of your cheeks, reddening from laying in the sun, your natural blush the most beautiful one.
“Make me look good please!”
At this, Rohan chuckles and shakes his head. You always look good, he thinks. You need no assistance there. And you are the perfect summer, floating languidly out on the water with your heart-shaped sunglasses. Maybe one night he will dream of you with a mermaid’s tail, emerald scales glistening in the sunlight because you take to the water like it’s your second home and wouldn’t that be something, to have a mermaid hidden away? His ultimate secret, his ultimate muse, lounging atop a pretty pink flamingo.
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admiralty-xfd · 5 years
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the things we do for love
Middle school again.
That’s what this feels like. Balloons bobbing on the ceiling. A disco ball spattering greenish lights around the room. Awkward innocence permeating the air. It doesn’t matter that the room is filled with adults; I’ve been transported back to my youth in an instant.
There’s an enormous rainbow made of plaster proclaiming its reverence for Kroner, Kansas, and the ridiculous amount of lights adorning it is worthy of its own X file. Not that I'd want to impugn this perfectly charming little town. It’s been a pleasant diversion. It seems like the kind of place in which Mulder really enjoys being.
I’m just not exactly sure why we’re still here. In fact, I’ve been wondering that for days.  
Mulder always does this; he has some power over me I can’t explain. Maybe it’s magic, or maybe it’s something else. But he just says the word and I’m off on whatever ridiculous adventure he has up his sleeve. Whether it’s Groom Lake or a haunted house or even a man controlling the weather, I’ll always find myself in the midst of it. Wherever he is, I have to be. I have nothing to justify or account for it; only the perpetual suspicion that he must be some kind of dark wizard.
I don’t generally believe in those sorts of things, but with Mulder around, I can never be quite sure.
The case has been wrapped and the thunderstorm has abated. None of this really matters at the moment, however, because now he’s taking my hand and pulling me towards him and before I can process what’s happening we are in a close embrace, dancing like a couple teenagers.
Mulder and I don’t dance. He doesn’t even know how, and neither do I, really. We’ve done this before exactly once. It was over a year ago which sounds insane when I say it to myself but really, the nature of our work makes time fly by so quickly it doesn’t feel that long ago.
It’s an excuse, an excuse to hold each other, like so many other excuses we make time and time again.
My mind flashes to the song the DJ was playing earlier: 10cc. The Things We Do For Love. It’s a song I know, a song I’m very familiar with. It’s one of those songs that brings forth a vivid memory that’s burnt into my brain the way any transformative experience would be.
Patrick Hansen, seventh grade. I saw him dancing across the school gym with Stephanie Ericson. It was the first time I felt my heart break, before I even knew the potential of such an ache.
Ooh you made me love you
Ooh you've got a way
Ooh you had me crawling up the wall
I can feel Mulder’s heart beating in sync with mine, pounding like crazy as he holds me close. I’ve been crawling up the walls ever since my lips were a breath away from his, from the moment he said all those things to me that turned my entire world upside down.
It isn’t often someone tells you you made them a whole person. It certainly isn’t often when it’s Mulder.
Communication is the problem to the answer
You've got her number and your hand is on the phone
The weather's turned and all the lines are down
The things we do for love, the things we do for love
We’ve been here before, him and me, on countless occasions. We never let anything happen, ever. Words have never been our strong suit when it comes to personal feelings. The affection is there, the care, dare I say it… the love. I know it is.
But there’s also something physical between us, an attraction that might actually kill us dead if we don’t just… put it out there at some point. Maybe that’s what Mulder was trying to do with that kiss. Six years of the kinds of glances we share has definitely taken its toll. It came as no surprise to me that we’d been mistaken as a couple on three separate occasions over the past 48 hours.
Not to mention the fact that I’m in love with him. I know it. I’m more certain about that than I’ve ever been about anything. And it’s getting harder and harder to keep that particular truth inside. I wouldn’t dare let Mulder in on this secret. When I confronted Sheila in the bathroom earlier I’d let out more honesty than I’d intended, but not in front of Mulder. I’m not ready for that.
I’m convinced we cannot take this leap. Not now, anyway. There’s too much work to be done. First we have to get the X files back. Our X files. Because they’re ours, his and mine. We need them and they need us and a physical relationship would get in the way of that. The Bureau would use just about any excuse in the book against us at this point.
Change is in the air for us, however, and we can both feel it. Now that we both know we wanted to kiss each other, this thing between us… it’s out there. The truth, oddly enough. I laugh to myself.
“What is it?” Mulder asks, startling me. I’d laughed out loud, apparently.
“Nothing, it’s nothing.” We’re in a weird state where we’ve revealed enough to each other already in his hallway, so he doesn’t press.
But then he takes my hands in his and drapes them behind him, around his neck, and puts his on my waist gently. I shouldn’t feel like my twelve-year old self again but I do. While this new position feels utterly appropriate in this setting I can feel myself trembling and hope to god he can’t tell how nervous I am. Our faces are so close together and my entire body is hot. It feels like it might spontaneously combust, in spite of my reservations on the likelihood of such a possibility. I want to believe he’s nervous too but his smile is just so damn disarming and he seems so cool and collected. His fingers are rubbing soft circles much too close to my ass to be merely friendly and its distracting as hell. He looks directly into my eyes and I can physically feel myself falling into them even more.
“Somewhere Over the Rainbow” is echoing around the gym but all I can think about is that fucking 10cc song and no amount of Judy Garland is going to chase it away at the moment.
Ooh you made me love you
Ooh you've got a way
Ooh you had me crawling up the wall
This isn’t fair. He shouldn’t be doing this to me; to us. This is hard enough already. Putting us in this position makes me feel exposed. I feel as if I should say something before these thoughts have the effect upon me they’re threatening to and I actually physically melt into his arms.
“What was that Holman said? Try what sometime?” I’m just making small talk. I don’t really care what Holman Hardt has to say about anything while Mulder is touching me like this.
“Oh..” he shrugs dismissively. “Just something we were talking about earlier. About me and… some girl.”
“Some girl, Mulder?”
“Mm-hm.”
“I thought you didn’t know what girls were?” I tease him. This is what we do. We can’t help ourselves. He chuckles and hesitates. I know he’s just being playful but it feels like he’s being careful as well.
“Well, I don’t, not usually,” he says. “But this one… this one is special.”
“Ah,” I say. Because I know he’s talking about me and I don’t have a reply. I never do in moments like this. It’s probably why we’re stuck in this mind numbingly infuriating limbo from which there is seemingly no escape.
I know what he’s trying to say. I’m not an idiot. It’s the same thing we try to tell each other every single day without telling each other anything. We’ve become experts at hiding our feelings, and the feelings we can’t hide, well… those are the ones we just sense when we look into each other’s eyes.
All I know is there’s a line we can’t cross, like crime scene tape stretched out between us. There are a million reasons we shouldn’t cross it so we don’t.
But, I mean… we’re FBI agents, after all. We’re allowed to cross crime scene tape, right?
Jesus Christ. I’m even trying to reason my way out of my own faulty metaphors. For fuck’s sake, Dana, get a grip.
“Anyways, I’m happy… for them,” he smiles, looking over my shoulder at Holman and Sheila. I crane my neck to look, trying to be discreet but there’s really no need; they only have eyes for each other. It gives me a nice feeling and I smile too. ”Must be freeing to acknowledge that kind of truth,” he continues.
“I imagine it is.”
I’m sure it is. I wonder how many more years it will take us to acknowledge a similar truth.
Without warning, my head relaxes into his chest. I don’t mean to do it, I swear. It just kind of happens. But I can’t move because… well, it just feels so damn good here in his arms. It feels like I don’t have a right to be here, but he’s allowing it. His fingers move into my hair, the heel of his hand just barely grazing the back of my neck and I shiver.
This is so stupid, so stupid. I shouldn’t be doing this. He shouldn’t be doing this. We have reasons, good reasons not to give in to this. My mind is racing a mile a minute and my insides are churning and if I had a power like Holman Hardt’s there’d be a hurricane sweeping into the gymnasium right about now.
Suddenly I’m aware my body is fully pressed against his in a way it hasn’t been before. How did this happen? I pull away a bit in surprise and my eyes betray what I definitely just felt.
“Sorry, it has a mind of its own,” he grins, those goddamn hazel eyes sparkling. I hadn’t said anything. Just swaying with him and feeling his erection against my hip. No big deal.
“And your two minds don’t align?”
Shit. Why did I say that? Why am I actively flirting with him while his hands are in my hair and his dick is pressed up against me like this? Our playful banter has always come so naturally I can only imagine, now knowing what we know, how it’s going to evolve.
Like walking in the rain and the snow
When there's nowhere to go
And you're feelin' like a part of you is dying
He chuckles at my retort and every sound he makes sends bolts of electricity right where it always does. I clench my thighs together in an attempt to disprove the very provable evidence of what he can do to me gathering there at this very moment. I’ve never wanted him to touch me so badly in our entire partnership and I’ve certainly wanted him to. A lot.
“Well, sometimes they do align,” he responds, that deep voice raising goosebumps all over me. “My brain just has more self control.”
Well, that’s great. I’m fucking thrilled his does.
Every ounce of my own energy is being directed into controlling myself. Into not throwing him down right here on this wooden gym floor and having my way with him, doing things to him that middle-school-aged me would never have been privy to.
I angle my head a bit so it’s right up next to his, as close as I can get with our height difference, and now we are positioned almost cheek to cheek, his mouth at my temple. I can’t see his face anymore and it’s unnerving, almost uncomfortable. Almost. His breath is hot. I can feel every single tiny hair on my skin at attention, just waiting for what’s next. I hold my breath, feeling as if we must be doomed to an eternity of waiting for what’s next.
His next words would take my breath away if I had any left in my body.
“I wish I’d kissed you, Scully… I wish I’d just done it years ago.”
He says it so quietly I can barely hear him. His thumbs are circling around and around at my neck now, every tiny motion feels so huge. Knowing what’s happening and not feeling able to act upon it is absolutely maddening. If he had… if he had kissed me long ago what would be different? We would be different. The weight of this moment wouldn’t exist.
And yet...
“I wish you had, too.”
It’s the truth. There isn’t a day that’s gone by since our near-kiss happened I haven’t had murderous thoughts about bees. Insects in general, really. Fuck them all.
His hands grab my face and he pulls back to look at me and it suddenly feels like we are back in that hallway again. This time, nothing would stop us. We both know it. But still, we hesitate. Before, such a moment was thrust upon us without warning. Now, we’re well aware of what’s at stake. We both don’t want things to change just as desperately as we do.
He pulls our foreheads together, which is typically a task considering our height difference, but the heels I’ve been standing on all day offer some assistance. I know my feet are killing me but I cannot feel them. All I can feel is this heat between us, this energy, this unfathomable, indescribable, unsolvable mystery that isn’t really a mystery at all. This kiss that’s hanging in the air, begging to happen, feels even more weighty now than it did back in that hallway.
But if we did… our worlds would change. We would change.
I’m overcome with longing and trepidation and my body is shaking again, and I know he can feel it.
“I’m not gonna try anything, Scully,” he says, his voice a low monotone. It sends a chill down my spine directly to the place I wish it wouldn’t. “I think it’s important… that we don’t. Right now.”
For a brief moment, I wonder if he’s misinterpreting my trembling body to mean I don’t want him to kiss me. But then I wonder if that’s true… do I want him to, now?
I’m terrified.
My eyes close and I picture his lips approaching mine, those lips I’ve become accustomed to staring at when I think he’s not looking. His tongue would move over mine, and I’d finally, finally get to taste him. What then?
I know what then. My mind wanders uncontrollably. It goes to a place I try not to let it unless I’m at home, in my own bed, my fingers desperately searching for relief. At home it feels safe and indulgent. Here and now these thoughts are downright dangerous.
But I could do it. I could just move my face an inch, just tilt it a tiny bit and he’d take the hint, I know he would. He’d make that journey.
Do I want him to?
Too many broken hearts have fallen in the river
Too many lonely souls have drifted out to sea
Broken hearts. Lonely souls. It could happen to us. Nothing would be stopping us if the risk wasn’t real.
You lay your bets and then you pay the price
The things we do for love, the things we do for love
“I think you’re right, Mulder…” I whisper, moving my face against his scratchy cheek. He leans into me, and the shift is subtle but I feel it. His arms move from my neck down to my shoulders and he pulls me into him, sighing. He’s as disappointed as I am, but we both are still on the same page. We both know it’s the right decision.
For now.
We’re dancing again, really dancing. This dance has gone on for so long. But I’ll never tire of it.
A compromise would surely help the situation
Agree to disagree but disagree to part
When after all it's just a compromise of
The things we do for love, the things we do for love
This isn’t the time for us. This isn’t the place. I love him too much to do this. I love us too much. I love everything about our partnership.
We’re doing this, or rather not doing this, for love.
Thanks for reading! For more of my work, go here. 
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kitty-full-of-rage · 4 years
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His Dark Materials: Season 1, Episode 1 Reaction
So I watched the first episode of the BBC adaptation  of His Dark Materials last night and let me just say, I love it so far. I adored the books when I was a teenager but they also tore the heart out of me, so I think I’m due a reread by this stage. Below the cut I’ll write not so much a review as a response to the episode, and it will contain some light spoilers so if you haven’t watched the episode yet, read at your discretion. 
1. Lord Asriel
The opening sequence with little baby Lyra being transported to Jordan College by gyrocopter with Lord Asriel was visually stunning, I’m not going to lie. While the Great Flood is described as utterly devastating to many communities in Phillip Pullman’s La Belle Sauvage, Oxford just seemed to be partly submerged in pretty, dark blue river water. I'm aware that Asriel didn't bring Lyra to Oxford on his own - he only acquired Lyra because she was rescued from the Great Flood by young Malcolm Polstead and his friend Alice. But I understand the omission of Malcolm and Alice - there are plenty of characters for the audience to keep track of, and when Northern Lights was published, we had no idea that Malcolm or Alice even existed, so I suppose showing only Lord Asriel is fair.
As for Asriel himself in this episode, I really loved James McAvoy's performance. On Twitter it was kind of hilarious how many people were thirsting for him (no disrespect meant - I completely understand. That shock of grey going through his hair is quite fetching). I was a little bit wary when McAvoy was cast though, because while Asriel is certainly a very impressive character and obviously has a fierce devotion to the pursuit of intellectual freedom and personal liberty, he is also kind of a dick. I thought McAvoy might be a tad too likeable for the role, even thought that would help add to Asriel's magnetism. But McAvoy did an excellent job of capturing the essence of a man who had lofty but honourable ambitions, while also being a sub-par guardian to Lyra, however much she admires him. The scene where he puts her to bed upside-down perfectly portrayed how bad he is at touchy feely- stuff.
2. Lyra Belacqua and Dafne Keen.
Oh my word, Dafne Keen is wonderful as Lyra. She captures Lyra's zest for life and her adventurous spirit so well, and it's only the first episode! She's less feral than her book counterpart, who was constantly getting into mud fights with other children and was basically a wild thing. But it was a joy to watch Lyra and Roger running across the rooftops of Jordan College together in this episode. What I also like is that Dafne Keen really seems to understand Lyra, which is of course what you want from an actress but she seems to have a fundamental understanding of what makes Lyra such a fantastic character. Her Lyra is intelligent, 'brilliant but lazy' in a way, adventurous, and does have a passionate need to be acknowledged by Asriel, but it's as much about to pursuing her own dreams as getting approval from a paternal figure.
3. The Title Sequence.
I almost wept at how beautiful the title sequence was. The beauty of the visuals took my breath away and the accompanying music was absolutely stunning, and made me feel such exquisite hope and sadness for what this series might be able to do. There were nods to The Subtle Knife and the Amber Spyglass, the gorgeous image of the alternate worlds pressing against each other like the pages of a book, and then the re-working of an Escherian staircase, with Lyra walking up one side, and a boy (most likely Will) making his way down the other side. 
4. The Gyptians.
Ma Costa, Farder Coram and even John Faa are such important formative influences on young Lyra, providing her with a very different sense of community to what she would have experienced in Jordan College. In this first episode though, we see them as their own people as opposed to them purely being seen through Lyra's eyes. The coming of age ceremony was very cool (having an animal companion is already awesome enough, but imagine getting a ring to commemorate the form your daemon took?). We get a sense of their customs, their traditions and how important their sense of community is to them, and of course as a marginalised community in this unequal society, Gyptian children are some of the first children to be snatched by the Gobblers.
5. Mrs Coulter.
Mrs Marisa Coulter. I could write for hours about Mrs Coulter and how fascinating she is as a character. I actually didn’t mind Nicole Kidman’s portrayal of her in the 2007 film, and I particularly like the reveal scene between her and Lyra towards the end of the film. But in this BBC adaptation, I’m very glad that we have a brunette Mrs Coulter. Her introduction and entrance alone were magnificent (again, the music was exquisite). And Ruth Wilson did a splendid job of portraying how charismatic she is, while also hinting at her duplicitous nature and ulterior motives. Mrs Coulter is a delightfully complex character, and manages to play Lyra like a fiddle in this first episode. Also, from clips I’ve seen from the trailers and from Ruth Wilson’s interviews, I get the impression that this is going to be a wilder Mrs Coulter than we’ve seen before. Some have dubbed her 'The Mother of All Evil', which is as well as being an impressive moniker, is also going to have pretty hilarious connotations by the end of this season. I feel as though I am going to have plenty to write about next week as the character is fleshed out more so I’ll just finish by saying that it’s going to be really nice to see this fabulous villianess grace our screens each week.
Some Quibbles:
Where are all of the minor characters’ daemons? And sometimes even Pan or Roger’s daemon or Stelmaria would disappear and I’d be like ‘Has Lord Asriel learnt to separate? Is that what is happening here?’ While this wasn't such a big deal in crowd scenes such as the scene introducing the Gyptians and the banquet in Jordan College, scenes such as that on the airship and in the corridors of Jordan seemed to show adult characters with no demons. This bothered me slightly, as it just came across as lazy. I know it's quite the undertaking to show every single daemon belonging to every single character, but that's the world that Lyra lives in. We can't just assume that every extra has a mouse or an insect daemon and so they're probably hiding in their coat pockets. Perhaps later episodes will do better in this regard. The daemons that we did see looked wonderful.
Sooo . . . Lyra brought no luggage with her on the airship to London? Also, was Mrs Coulter making sure that the airship was delaying take-off? Otherwise she was leaving an awful lot to chance. It was very possible that Lyra could have missed that flight.
Lyra shouting at the alethiometer was kind of hilarious. No hun, it doesn't so much as 'tell you' the truth as show you it. God, Dr Carne, you need to be more clear about these kinds of things.
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kristinarambles · 5 years
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Theme Song
Analysis One:
When I first started watching this show it was to find something my oldest daughter [who was three at the time] and I could watch together. We had been watching Gravity Falls but I knew it was coming to an end and I was pretty tired of Shimmer and Shine and Daniel Tiger and whatnot [not that there’s anything wrong with them and in fact I like them, just was over it lol]. Disney movies over and over I can do but I wanted something new that I could really get into. My sister loved it and I saw screenshots and stuff all over Tumblr so I was curious. I sought my sisters referral and she told me it was beautiful but might contain content that Andrea was too young to understand/comprehend, but even so it was made so it would still entertain her and contained a lot of themes that would reinforce the type of things I was trying to teach her as a mother. Now my youngest who was a babe-in-arms when we started has reached about the same age as Andrea was when we started watching and it's all of our big thing that we watch together and love so much. It met and exceeded all of my expectations in every way. The artwork and music is beautiful, I've added several of the songs to my "playlist" of lullaby's that the children request for me to sing to them. The girls adore the characters, Andrea even named "her” dog after Pearl [she’s even got the sharp nose true to form, but as a counterpoint likes to eat trash and roll in the mud]. They play games set to the story, talk about it all the time, cheer them on as we watch and even cry. It keeps us engaged and guessing and even my husband doesn't mind it and will occasionally watch the new episodes with us. We love how excited the kids get about them lol.
I was going to just jump into the first episode, but I thought I should do a little breakdown of the theme songs first,the old one from the first season and the one we've been using since the beginning of season two until presumably we'll get a new one at the start of season six. Also forgive me for not having pictures, but I don’t want to be stealing pictures even with references or tags and I have two children so I don’t have the time or patience to be going and getting my own screengrabs.
First I think it's interesting that in the old theme Pearl and Amethyst [Amethyst pulling out/down her shirt] both show off their glowing gems but you can only see one of Garnet’s as she adjusts her shades. Steven's can be seen glowing until he finishes his little somersault and his shirt settles. I like how the next few flashes show his youth [and immaturity] in comparison to the Gems as well. After seeing the theme we've had the last couple of years so many times I really love the parallels and changes. How when the warp pad goes off Steven just passively floats upside down, he makes a face when Garnet ruffles his hair [which is one of my favorite of their earlier interactions], running to catch up to them and then leaping to get in the lead. It gives us a real feel for their relationship but in an abstract way. Steven is the kid brother, to be protected and sheltered, maybe even a little annoying. They love him, but he isn't really a member of the team, he's just a tag-along. Then it evolves, they start in the temple but it appears that they're at the galaxy warp in the second theme. They focus on the Gems faces now and not their gems. He is now the one who activates the warp, with a hint of the Diamond Salute, everyone ruffles his hair while he smiles [with star eyes no less] because he knows how much they love him. Then the running with Steven trying to catch up turning to all of them just posing one by one with their weapons, but still as a team. We get a nice shot of Connie as the van drives through Beach City, she is front and foremost from our point of view. Lars and Sadie, Mr. Smiley, the Cool kids, Kiki and Nanefua are all there but Connie is the most important. Lots of people have pointed out the change in her appearance in the theme, and it's certainly the most obvious but I like how subtly everyone else changed too. Lars goes from throwing himself against the window to leaning comfortably, Sadie even looks more comfortable. The Cool Kids are now hanging out in front of The Big Donut instead of on the curb across the street. Onion is on top of it when originally it seemed that Mr. Smiley was about to toss him out. Looking back he was probably just handing him off to Sour Cream, but we didn't know he was his big brother back then. Jamie has been added, although off to the side sulking [of course]. Also added are Mayor Dewey, Kofi, and the Frymans. As funny as it is to see Ronaldo being flustered at the van driving by instead of Lars, my heart is warmed by PeeDee hanging out smiling on his father's shoulders and waving at Steven. It might be more symbolism that Ronaldo is trying to gather up his papers but pauses to watch the van go by. He has a tendency to let his theories run away with him, but Steven has consistently set him straight.
All that being said, Connie's transformation is arguably the most important other than Steven himself, although in light of Pink Lars and Rock Star Sadie not necessarily the most drastic in appearance. She is still on the outskirts, but it's no longer because she's an outsider as evidenced by her running after the van instead of just holding her hat in place due to the wind made by it passing her. I love the contrast in her traditionally feminine skirt to her more utilitarian shorts and clutching her book and holding onto her hat turning into still holding the book but loosely by her side instead of tightly to her chest and resting her sword comfortably on her shoulder. I really identified with early Connie and her escape into books. As a Navy brat I moved a lot, and being the oldest I had a lot of responsibility I didn't really want. When we first meet her in Bubble Buddies and she doesn't even notice Steven because she was so into her reading, I felt that on a very visceral level. I wish I could have found real magic like she did lol. Her books are still a part of her, but she’s grown so much, trained to be strong and skillful, earning her place on the team. I don’t think we ever actually see her wear a hat in show, and she loses her literal rose tinted lenses and adds in her glow bracelet showing off her and Steven’s friendship.
Greg is finally shown at the end, representing Steven's human needs with a grill haha, then in a final bit of symbolism in the first theme we see each of the Gems get their own frame with their name superimposed above them. They each get a slightly different time of day and a signature little move to show us who they are without saying a word. Garnet reclining in her lawn chair and only moving her foot at sunset. Amethyst flipping her hair at twilight with the moon behind her. Pearl adjusting her skirt as she sits in front of the fully night sky filled with diamond shaped stars. Steven eating a hot dog with the temple at sunrise behind him. In the new theme however they gather around Steven after a casual shot of the temple. Connie runs to join them, Greg relaxes up against a napping Lion. He strums his guitar as Connie turns smiling. Garnet lowers herself to sit behind Steven, Amethyst in her enthusiasm slides to be beside him, Pearl kneels down neatly They all belong there, as a team. They are all still individuals with their own personalities, strengths and weaknesses, but they communicate and fit together so much better now. The title is over all four of them instead of just Steven.
Steven says his powers allow him to connect to people, and sure that's a big part of his gem powers but I think his human half has a really great power too. He has the ability to make people connect to each other. His empathy brings all the people he cares about together and over the course of the series he's been able to dissect and help them solve the issues keeping them apart as well as deal with their own self images and trauma.
There's been a lot of speculation about a new theme, and although initially I was unhappy with the idea and content with the current theme I am coming around. I was firmly against the idea of Rose being Pink and that turned out better than I ever could have hoped so I'm fully trusting in Rebecca Sugar now. Especially with those scenes at the very end of Change Your Mind. The pan over the Crystal Gems, Off Colors and the humans mingling on the beach with the Diamonds looking over them. The change in lyrics about peace instead of fighting while all of the newly uncorrupted gems reunite in the fountain, and the fact that Steven leaves out his own name to make sure he mentions that there's more of them. And then the Crystal Gems in front of the temple, all of them. Lapis and Peridot have officially joined all in, Bismuth is back for good, Connie, Lion and Greg still in their rightful places, even Pumpkin and Cat Steven. It's all just so wonderful, if we do get an updated theme I'm sure it will be just as lovely, I'm trying not to have expectations although the parallels seem to indicate that at least that last bit in front of the temple will be integrated.
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jngsjngs · 5 years
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Hi! So, I could be totally wrong here, but you seem like you’re going through quite a bit? If that is the case, I’d like you to know that it’s okay. If it’s a creative rut, maybe doing something completely different would help? Something of the “oh that’s cool but I could never do it right??” persuasion. Just dropping hsc is okay to if it no longer brings you happiness. Don’t worry about us internet-folk. If this is how it ends, it was good while it lasted. Just hoping for your happiness :3
i know i said i’d wait a little while to catch up on messages but this one really got me :-( thank u so much for taking the time to send it! i’ve been kind of vague about my updates lately so i hope u don’t mind if i use this as a platform to let u guys know where i’m at right now.
part of the reason for this hiatus is because i fell into a creative rut around the start of the holidays, but i had some issues with my back a couple of weeks ago that made it impossible for me to move or sit up straight for more than a few minutes at a time, and that definitely set me back longer than i had hoped. i’m better now, but i still can’t stay in one position for extended periods without feeling uncomfortable, and the way i write usually requires me to type without much of a break until the first draft is completed in its entirety. most of what i‘ve been working on over the past week or so was done on my phone, which is fine, but it takes about twice as long for me to finish a section of a chapter because i can’t look at such a small screen for too long (in case ur curious tho i have the next chapter of hsc finished and am working on the next two after that which happens to be the movie arc split into two parts).
i hope that doesn’t sound like some kind of sad excuse! just wanted to give clearer reasons as to why i’ve been gone for so long, even if they’re not very good ones. i’d like to think i’m at least getting over that creative rut; i’m listening to a lot of new music which means in addition to working on new chapters i’m creating new playlists and fixing up the old ones. i admit i’ve also been making the most out of finally getting to go outside, but u gotta remember i’m one of u internet-folk, too! hsc continues to bring me happiness even on days when i’m not quite sure what to write so i can assure u that unless something utterly life changing flips my world upside down i am always going to keep coming back to it.
ANYWAY that aside i’ve been watching a lot of shows and like i said listening to a lot of music these days since that was pretty much all i could do this month (i swear this isn’t a pity party i am perfectly mobile now) another reason why chapters are progressing slower than usual is because i’ve been hopping across fandoms like the energy bunny agsjdjdkdk i’m pretty sure i managed to catch up on miraculous ladybug, fairy tail, young justice, and voltron within the same week, re-watch most of haikyuu, inuyasha, and fullmetal alchemist: brotherhood the week after, and then have time to re-read a couple of the percy jackson books just a few days ago, plus (i know) with kingdom hearts ready to drop on top of all that i feel like my mind has been in ten different places at once. in short, it’s not that i’m not doing anything right now, but because i’m doing too much, i’m having trouble sticking to one thing at a time afskshls
this is getting to be a drag to read but yeah tldr i went from being totally uninspired to going on a creative hyperdrive and somewhere in between that i was on proper medical leave from the interwebz lulz 🤟🏼 sorry for rambling on about my boring life!!! how r u!!!! did u start school yet?? watch any new shows??? got some new bops on ur playlist???? honestly ur all way cooler than i am n ur ideas (some of which are still sitting in my inbox rip i don’t deserve u) are one of the many things that keep me motivated n thriving 🖤
just wanted to end this on a question because it’s something i’ve been curious about for a while and though i have to warn u ahead of time that i might not act on it i figured it wouldn’t hurt to ask ok yeah i’m actually gonna ask it now agdjjdsks would u guys like to see behind the scenes stuff?? messy sketches, random storyboards, profiles of original characters that may never see the light of day, chapter outlines that probably make no sense because half the time i don’t even follow them???? pls lmk
also i lied about ending it there (if u read thru my author’s notes ur probably used to that lol) a couple of people have asked if i would ever consider including lgbtq+ characters in my stories and my response both times was that i would be absolutely honored! as i said to one reader my primary concern was (and still is) that as a cisgender heterosexual i wouldn't do justice to said character and their story, but i welcome any guidance from u all and will do my best to bring them to life the way they deserve to be portrayed. in the climate we are in today i thought it was necessary to express my support for u regardless of ethnicity or gender identity and hope that u feel safe in the community we have collectively formed in this space. racism, sexism, homophobia, biphobia, transphobia, discrimination against another individual for their sexual orientation or where they come from—all of these things and anything even remotely along those lines will not be tolerated here.
(ok now i’m done)
thank u so much anon and all the rest of u for always being so patient and kind! i wish u the best 2019 and will see u guys soon!
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I posted 1,425 times in 2022
That's 9 more posts than 2021!
384 posts created (27%)
1,041 posts reblogged (73%)
Blogs I reblogged the most:
@moonwalkingspidersfrommars
@stellaluna33
@this-is-a-love-story-isnt-it
@inthetags
@oldnewyork
I tagged 774 of my posts in 2022
Only 46% of my posts had no tags
#mad about you - 71 posts
#paul buchman - 61 posts
#jamie buchman - 47 posts
#judging amy - 39 posts
#cute - 39 posts
#seven of nine - 35 posts
#me - 34 posts
#cats - 29 posts
#art - 25 posts
#private practice - 22 posts
Longest Tag: 116 characters
#one person was just like ‘oh it’s just a tool that draws inspiration from things around it. that’s what artists do.’
My Top Posts in 2022:
#5
One of Spock’s most autistic-coded-character moments in Strange New Worlds:
Pike: “Do you want some coffee?” Spock: “I do not drink coffee. I do drink tea.” Pike: “All right. Would you like some tea?” Spock: “No, thank you, captain.”
😂 just clarifying the fact for accuracy even though he doesn’t want any
66 notes - Posted July 8, 2022
#4
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71 notes - Posted December 24, 2022
#3
Uhura and Spock singing major chords in a cave on a comet in order to communicate with it is what Star Trek is all about, tbh.
113 notes - Posted May 12, 2022
#2
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412 notes - Posted October 11, 2022
My #1 post of 2022
Ok, so I just watched Stranger Things 4 again but only the Robin/Steve/Nancy/Dustin/Max/Eddie/Lucas scenes, and I think that the writers 100% purposely made Robin autistic. I don't think it was accidental. Back in the 70s and 80s autism wasn't really a thing that doctors knew much about, and for YEARS they also thought only boys could have autism. So it's not going to be an actual thing in the story where Robin is like diagnosed or even suspects it, but there were too many autistic traits for it to be an accident. And I really like the way the writers did it. She's not nerdy or super awkward and overly quirky all the time. She is those things, but they're not "weird", if you know what I mean. But I remember the first time I watched it, the biggest thing that stuck out to me was when she kept asking Nancy if she was mad at her because Nancy was basically not being very friendly and Robin said she can't always tell if she annoys people because she's bad at picking up on social cues, which her mom reminds her of daily. Then there was the thing where she had to wear Nancy's clothes and she complained about how uncomfortable they were. Like she was so distracted the whole time because they felt scratchy and that the bra was digging into her… then she had a sensory overload outburst (sensory issues common in people with autism- commonly with clothes). Then when the police were escorting them out, the cop touched her arm when she turned to look at something and she spazzed out and sharply said "don't touch me" (autistic people commonly don't want to be touched or only like being touched on our terms). When Nancy said they had to run to the car and Robin said something like she's a bad runner because she has horrible coordination and it took her 6 months longer to learn to walk than all the other babies. And then how she would sometimes just interject in conversations with something super random and they'd all be like, "...okay?" Oh then when they were in the Upside-Down and trying to communicate with the others at the Wheeler's house, so they put their hands up to the lights and there was that like sparkly energy field around it or something, and someone said "It tingles" and Robin said, "It feels good." That's totally related to the sensory thing. I'm the same way- some things are so uncomfortable for me, but I also can't help touching things- like I have to know what things feel like and then I'll just keep touching it if it feels really cool. Oh, and then when she said her biggest fear was rabies? so random. and she knew so much stuff about it and was kind of obsessed with it for like a whole scene. Just so many things like that, and the first time around I didn't pick up on all of them, so rewatching those scenes with that lens was really fun and helped me notice more autistic traits in her. But I loved that she did have friends- they were just cool and loved her quirks (or with Nancy, she just put up with them even though Robin annoyed her so much). And she wasn't overly "weird". And she's smart without being nerdy. I guess I just really appreciate that the writers didn't go for the stereotypes and kind of naturally let those traits be revealed throughout the season.
472 notes - Posted May 31, 2022
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shyanlibrary · 6 years
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Hey there, I'm in the mood to be absolutely destroyed by some sad shit, so can you please give me some good, angsty tearing-my-fucking-heart out shyan fic recs? Give me as many as you have. I'd be very grateful (and hopefully devastated at the end of it heh)
Welcome to Sad Town, everyone ~ Please note that most of these either have Major Character Death warning or no Happy Ending.
The Body That Lies by Lafayette1777
Summary: Ryan is dead and haunting Shane. Because he misses him, of course.
But also to prove a point.
Rated: Not Rated (T)
Commentary: Ah, that beautiful Major Character Death that makes you wish you were the one dead. This fic destroyed me since the first time I read it and it’s also my favorite ghost story in the fandom. Like– we got some really good stuff with the AU, but this one is– like, kind of, the most realistic and human I’ve read so far.
It gives you a grief that resonates with you, your soul, it breaks your heart and makes you cry. It takes you from the extraordinary beginning to the human ending, and it makes you believe at the end. It’s wonderful.
contrapposto by spoopyy
Summary: Ryan works in a museum. Shane doesn’t understand art. They fall in love.
Rated: T
Commentary: Listen, if you wanna die, this is ya fic. Before I read it, I kept seeing in tumblr that it was the best story in the fandom, and when I finally found it while reading all the fics, I didn’t even look at the summary, the tags, the anything, I just went directly to read it.
Boy. Did that one scene that is gonna kill you destroyed me nicely.
I’m still not over this fic and I will never be. It worked me out in ways no story had before and it made me sob like a motherfucker. Never sobbed this much while reading a fanfic before, holy shit.
we dream of storms by adenophora
Summary: Ryan has the lighthouse, and he has the sea. He’s adapted to the solitude, even if he wasn’t built for it. And then there’s Shane.
Rated: T
Commentary: Because I love suffering and being dead, this is actually one of my favorite fanfics in the fandom. If you read my comment on it, you’ll notice I spend days thinking about it and overthinking about what it meant and the imagery of it. Hell, I even though– you know, that’s a spoiler. So. Read and come talk to me about it.
Dance Till You Drop by wheezebaby
Summary: In which Shane and Ryan are 16th-century painters, and Shane has a knack for dancing.
Rated: M (But it’s actually more like T)
Commentary: Based on that one time people dance until they died, this fic explores Shane and Ryan’s relationship in a very interesting way– it’s very well written, the historic background of it it’s well done and reserched, an interesting piece to read. I second this rec.
but i’m still here, i hope you know by BooyahFordhamYacht
Summary: he always wanted to get lost in it. that deep dark sea of believing in something more. he wanted to feel the surge of the waters accepting him, wanted to understand what was so addictive about it. shane never realized the price he’d have to pay to be pulled under the surface into the cold, unforgiving roaring swells of the ocean.
AN: so i promised some commenters on for you to be happy and loved that i would write some happy shyan after that heartbreak. This… this is not that. This may actually be worse. Don’t read if you don’t feel like crying.
Title from Keaton Henson’s amazing song Alright. Go listen to it and cry if you want.
Rated: T
Commentary: This author is fantastic, they write a world you can understand and imagine in such a poetic way, you are going to be sobbing from the start to the bottom. The way they describe grief is just… Man, this is good, this is very good. Kinda not very happy with Sara, though; I feel very sorry for her in this fic. Also, of course– Major Character Death. But with an S. This doesn’t have a happy ending.
Nana by InkStainsOnMyHands
Summary: I sat with you beside your bed and criedFor things that I wish I’d said
You still had your nose red
And if I live past seventy-two, I hope I’m half as cool as you
Ryan is ready.
Rated: Not Rated (I’ll say T)
Commentary: This should be rated DEATH FOR YOU AND YOUR LOVED ONES, because is a soul-destroyer fic. Dude, the ending. Dude, be prepared.
for another life time by Hugabug
Summary: "I’m scared.“
“Never. You were always brave for the both of us.”
Rated: G
Commentary: Also known as I Love Death And Being Dead, this fic killed me in the most amazing way. It’s as sweet as it is sad at the beginning, you will love it if your thing is to hurt but always end with a big smile.
Big God by fuckcitybitch
Summary: The time comes for Shane to stop running and reap what he carelessly sewed.
Rated: T
Commentary: More than angst, this is pure horror and fear, and that’s exactly why it will destroy your soul. It has NO happy ending, Major Character Death, horror, dead babies, all you need to not sleep and cry like a baby. 
But for real, what a wonderful story. It’s so well done, so well writen. I love this author, they are one of the bests and this fic is just incredible.
Metacommunication by americanchemicals
Summary: Communication is important in any relationship. Metacommunication, or communicating about communicating, was equally as important. Because when there are misunderstandings, things quickly go downhill.
Rated: T
Commentary: Dear Lord, the angst in this one is just damn frustrating. So many things could had been avoided with better communication... and it’s so good to read... these two grown ass men being idiots in love... it hurts so much. Love this fic.
You Are on the Fastest Available Route by InkStainsOnMyHands
Summary: “It’s in the light.“
[Based on the Local 58 YouTube Series]
Rated: T
Commentary: BOY. I fell in love with this fanfic. It may seem weird for some people, it may get scary at some point (hint: it fucking is), but there’s something so incredible about it. It’s everything, I guess. This fanfic is the kind of stuff I would put my students to comment on Creative Writing Workshop, it’s THAT good.
when the tide comes by AnastasiaYu
Summary: the disappearance of ryan bergara.
Rated: T
Commentary: To quote Luke Skyalker, “this is not going to end the way you think”. This is… so sad. The ending is, wow, one of my favorites. The original ending. Althought the second ending is also good. But the first! So sad! So good!
may i say i loved you more by luntian
Summary: He felt Ryan’s warm palm on his shoulder. By then he knew he couldn’t lie anymore.“I—well, uh…” Shane inhaled deeply, “Promise me you’ll believe.
”Ryan was puzzled, but he nodded almost immediately.
After a long pause, Shane finally continued, “I’m not human.”
“What?” Ryan whispered. His eyebrows furrowed.
“Well, I was human, then—and then I died.” Ryan stared. Shane realized he was making no sense. He sighed, “Okay, listen. I am an angel.” Shane glanced at Ryan, trying to see his reaction but he saw no expression on his face. “I was sent on Earth to, uh, complete some mission.”
“You’re an alien?!”
“I’m an angel!”
/or/
Shane is an angel with a time limit. And a boyfriend.
Rated: Not Rated (T)
Commentary: Angel Shane AU that for a second seems to be all happy– then it’s not. I cried a lot.
we match by hugabug
Summary: “I love you in grey.“
Rated: G
Commentary: Now, this is pure pain. Someone dies. The other one is left old and sad. I fucking cried.
and he takes and he takes by cooliohoolio
Summary: Shane wants to say I will be dead within the next year. He wants to say the flowers in my lungs are there because of you. He wants to say I’m in love with you and it’s killing me.
Rated: Not Rated (T)
Commentary: Hanahaki is always the real deal here, it’s 100% suffering and in this fandom, it always ends sad. And ironic. This fic in particular writes the ficitonal condition as something more than it usually is, it uses it in a poetic way that allows to explore the depth of Shane’s feelings and also allows us to die a little bit more with each word. Such a great fanfic, so well writen, so well characterized, so well peppered with the best kind of angst.
I Miss You by KnittingGuru1984
Summary: Shane had never believed in the supernatural. That was Ryan’s department. When Ryan is suddenly taken from him in an accident, Shane has his life turned upside down.
Rated: G
Commentary: Oh, this one is hard to take. It’s sad, it really is. And it doesn’t end well either, it’s… also kinda scary. The ending gave me the chills because… oh God. You gotta read it, I’m not spoiling it, lol.
with shortness of breath (you explained the infinite) by hugabug
Summary: "Shane?”
“Y-Yeah?”
“Why won’t you look at me?”
Rated: T
Commentary: Part of this series that literally estroyed my life, in this one we… we find out how those five years of Shane alone started. Man. It is freakin’ sad.
But if it’s Not Right (What Can I Do?) by InkStainsOnMyHands
Summary: Ryan Bergara, host of True Crime on Buzzfeed Radio, attracts the wrong person’s attention.
A twisted version of Pichiba’s radio!au.
Rated: T
Commentary: I LOVE FUCKED UP SHIT, and this one is one of the bests in the fandom. For real, I love this AU and I love how well Joey wrote the sick part of it all. The ending just jfbnfdinfir gave me the chills, it’s damn amazing.
Oblivion by InkStainsOnMyHands
Summary: Tragic consequences typically follow when a god falls in love with a human. Typically…
Based on the comment:“My theory is that Shane is the devil and was just super bored. Then one day he chanced upon a poor scared Ryan and thought “this is pretty fun” and now follows him to supernatural sights to have a giggle at his expense. But that’s also why they never capture anything on video, because the evil spirits and demons know Shane for who he really is and are too afraid to mess with him.”
Rated: M
Chapters: 3/3
Commentary: This fic means a lot to me. It has been one of my favorites for a long time and I feel like I’m going to love it forever. Because it has such a powerful feeling to it and the way they are characterized and put together in this fic is very unique and original, and no fic will ever top it. It deserves all the love, my man, it’s incredible.
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wordsablaze · 6 years
Text
Serendipity
When the cat is away, the mice will play. When the Avengers are away, Peter will introduce Loki to Bowser, plan a magical prank, and figure out how to unite the team with the world of Mario. Enjoy!
A/N: I'm sorry, I just really love these two and basically could not function until I wrote this. Plus, I saw the new Infinity War posters and my brain went 'yup, we're going to obsess over marvel again' so that's that...
Peter has prepared himself for many things in life. For example, he's always prepared for a science pop quiz or a new lego challenge or even changing into his Spiderman suit within half a minute. What he's not prepared for, however, is to be assaulted by an unprecedented display of magic that seems to be a dangerous combination of magnificence and malice.
His head jerks up as the hairs on his arms stiffen in warning so he dives behind the counter just in time for debris to fly over his head in what's possibly the worst mockery of rain in the world. The falling glass and plaster more or less remind him of destructive snow, actually. Waiting until the sound of crumbling infrastructure fades, he peeks over the top of the counter and watches as the levitating stranger transforms the windows and doors into solid metal before turning the ceiling into something that looks like it's been plucked out of a Tim Burton film, then picking up the nearest object and turning it into ash without even blinking.
Instead of being worried or anything else remotely sensible along those lines, Peter's eyes widen in awe. "That's so cool!"
Instead of continuing to take advantage of an otherwise empty Avengers' tower, the stranger stills as he hears the compliment, his sceptre resting on the ground as the blue light fades.
"I mean, it's really impressive and it looks so easy! But I bet it's actually pretty difficult, right? Oh, uh, I'm sorry if you were expecting someone else, by the way... I love your crown helmet!"
"Crown helmet?"
"Yeah. I'm sure it has, like, a more sophisticated name but I can't think of one. Crown helmet works pretty well to be honest because it looks royal and ready for battle..." he pauses. "Wait, is why you're here? There's not really anybody here to fight you. Except me, I guess. But I don't think fighting someone with such cool magic is a good idea, even for me... Wait, you can't be here for a battle, can you? FRIDAY wouldn't have let you in if you were so you have to be a friend, right?"
"Who exactly are you?" the owner of the crown helmet asks eventually.
Peter grins and springs to his feet, ignoring his spidey sense entirely and hoping that the other man is indeed a friend. "Peter Parker."
It's only when Peter sees the man smirk with that iconic glint in his eyes that it dawns on him who he's talking to so he curses himself for getting carried away and not noticing before. "Oh my algorithms... You're Loki, aren't you? I've heard so much about you and all the stuff you've done! Actually, maybe I shouldn't have told you my name... Please don't hurt my friends or family!"
Loki doesn't even know how to react and that's a first for him. "I'm not always out to hurt people, you know?"
"Nor is Bowser but people peg him as the bad guy all the time..." Peter nods understandingly, even though he's internally thinking about how he doesn't really understand. Then he realises he does understand because he's in the same position. "And people think Spiderman's a bad guy but he's just, like, trying to help in his own way, you know? It's not his fault if stupid journalists label him as a vigilante and everyone else just goes with it."
"Who?"
"You don't know who Bowser or Spiderman are?" Peter looks so crestfallen that even a God out for vengeance has to take pity on him.
"I haven't exactly spent much time on Midgard?" he offers as an explanation.
Peter's eyes light up in understanding. "Oh, of course, right, okay... I can show you who they are if you like? We have to fight our way to Bowser though... We can even fight Bowser together! Wait, have you heard of video games? You must have, right? They're pretty much universal, aren't they?"
Loki has never so lost in the face of a Midgardian before. "No?"
"In that case, it's practically my duty to explain! Come on, uh- Lord Loki, you don't even know what you've been missing out on!" Not that anyone can ever know exactly what they're missing out on since, if they did, they wouldn't really be missing out, but that's not the point.
Despite having originally arrived to create chaos, Loki finds himself following the excited teenager, trying to convince himself he'd not been persuaded solely by the title he's been given.
He's led into the next room where a rather large television is mounted onto the wall and a small collection of boxes lies beneath it. Peter, only briefly glancing behind him to make sure nothing is on fire, selects one of the boxes and pries it open, removing a circular disc that he then feeds to a bigger black box. He watches as Peter uses one of the oddly-shaped black objects to navigate his way through a menu and selects one of the options that then triggers an opening scene with an odd man who seems to be Italian and Mexican at the same time.
"How does this show me who Bowser is?"
Peter shrugs. "Bowser is the final boss. We have to play our way to him."
"Play?" Loki scoffs, "I do not 'play' anymore."
"Well, I suppose you can watch me play instead if you prefer?"
"Watch...? You expect me to sit here and do nothing while you fight?"
Peter has nothing to say so he shrugs again.
"I will observe as you battle your way to my enlightenment," Loki finally settles on.
"Sounds like a plan," Peter agrees and starts on the first level on single player mode because a certain someone had accidentally deleted his progress in an attempt to reboot the device with lightning but he was only trying to help so he couldn't really be blamed. He flies through the first set of levels but gets stuck when he's all out of spare lives and can't figure out how to kill three mushrooms without sacrificing his progress.
"Jump over the secret bridge thing."
Startled, Peter jumps so high he drops the remote and accidentally releases his hold on a button, turning left in the game and subsequently causing Mario to fall off the cliff.
"No!" he cries, whacking the controller on his head. "Now I have to start over..."
"Next time, use the bridge."
"What bridge?" Peters asks as he restarts the level, then biting his upper lip to concentrate.
"The one that was above your head- wait, stop," Loki says, throwing an arm out as if he can communicate with Mario.
Peter, not wholly surprised this time, stops in a safe place and looks to Loki, a questioning look on his face.
"You see that wall?"
"Yeah?"
"Do the spinning leaf tail move on it."
Peter stifles his laugh and nods, doing as instructed. Immediately, he discovers a secret passage he hadn't seen before. Leaning back, he whistles. "How did you know that was there?"
"Wasn't it obvious?"
"Not really, no..." Peter mumbles.
Loki's smug expression softens just a little. "Perhaps we should take it in turns?"
Peter nods thoughtfully. "We can't both play because we're too far into the single-player mode... but I don't mind watching. Here!" he passes the controller to Loki, who takes it with his free hand.
After a moment of thought, he asks, "Would you like to hold my sceptre?"
Eyes widening, Peter gasps. "Can I?"
Loki smiles and holds it out, almost laughing as Peter tentatively reaches out, freezing as his hands touch it and slowly pulling it closer, practically stroking the chilled gold body.
"It won't break if that's what you're worried about."
Peter grins, euphoria in his eyes, "Thank you, Lord Loki."
"Now, how do I make this little man crawl through the wall?"
"Press the back butto- no, no, not that one, the other back button! Stop!" Peter warns just as Mario bursts into flames.
"That was beautifully violent."
"Maybe, but it means we have to redo the level now so..."
"Again?" Loki groans, handing the controller back to Peter with a dramatic twirl of his wrist.
Peter, to his credit, doesn't complain at all, simply keeping his eyes glued to the screen and getting Mario to squeeze through the wall before handing the controller back to Loki.
"It's this button, by the way..." Peter lets Loki test it out before he resumes the game and so Mario doesn't randomly burst into flames this time.
And thus, the level is completed.
And the next one.
And the next.
And so on.
Until the two of them, after Loki accidentally makes Peter fly in his annoyance of dying - to which Peter had responded by doing a cartwheel and making a note of the experience so he can retell it to Ned later- and various curses of several degrees, finally encounter Bowser.
"We did all that for a spiked turtle?" Loki huffs immediately.
"He's the king of the Koopas! And it's not like I forced you!" Peter argues.
"Oh, shhhhhhhhhhhhh-" Loki groans, "He just killed us."
"Are you serious?" Peter props the sceptre on the sofa, takes the controller from him and deftly retries the level, then progressing a couple more in his excitement. He doesn't fall even once but obviously, Loki has other ideas or he'd just gotten bored because he pokes Peter and causes the teenager's attention to waver, resulting in an exposed, defenceless Mario and an instant, completely boring death.
"Looooooooh-hokiiiiiiiiiiiii!" Peter whines, letting himself flop onto the sofa backwards, his feet draped over the back and his head hanging upside down, just a few centimetres off the ground.
"I'm sorry, little spider."
Peter doesn't think anything of the nickname until he does, at which point he rolls backwards and lands on his knees, breathless and slightly red. "What did you just say?"
Loki grins. "I might not have known who Bowser is but, since the whole invasion ordeal, I've spent enough time with Thor to learn some things from his frequent rambling about the Avengers."
"And?" Peter raises an eyebrow, his heart hoping that he'd been included in those tales but his head telling him Loki had probably seen his mask lying around or something.
"You fall under that title in his books, young spider."
Peter beams, his eyes positivity radiating joy and gratitude. "Thanks, Lord Loki!" he says and, without even thinking about it, he springs to his feet and wraps his arms around Loki, his face pressed to the not-so-surprisingly silky, green material.
"Oh, we're hugging now?" Loki asks, but not unkindly, awkwardly pacing his arms around the excited teen and trying not to let his smile through; it'd been a while since he'd been hugged and, if he was honest - which he rarely is - he'd missed the feeling.
Peter pulls away with a red face and wide eyes. "I'm sorry, I didn't even think- I hope you don't mind hugs? Uh..."
"Untangle your anxious webs, young spider, I have nothing against embraces."
Loki smiles and Peter can feel his face heat up in a mixture of bashfulness, relief, and some kind of honour he can't quite decipher.
"You know, I definitely prefer Spiderman over Bowser."
"Really?" Peter's voice is at least two notches too high.
"Webs are so much better than stolen fireballs... His fireballs are not even nearly as impressive as mine anyway."
"Thank you!" Peter grins. "I prefer yours too..."
"May I inform you that the Avengers will be back in no more than three minutes?" FRIDAY alerts them, sounding way more amused than and an AI should ever be able to sound.
Peter hums in acknowledgement then grins and turns to Loki. "I have an idea."
"And I have a sceptre," Loki says, basically already having agreed to whatever Peter can ask.
Which is why, two minutes and forty seconds later, Tony walks in and abruptly stops, causing Steve and Bruce to crash into him and Thor to barrel into them, resulting in four stumbling men and a very exasperated Natasha and Clint.
"What on Earth?" Clint asks as they see Peter standing on the table with Loki's sceptre glowing in his hands.
"That's where you're mistaken, Mister Barton, the world in question is Asgard, not Earth." Peter has to fight with himself to avoid letting his amusement leak into his words. He ends up scowling at the Avengers, internally apologising but outwardly positioning himself to appear as angry as he possibly can.
"Is that Loki's?" Thor asks, frowning.
"It was," Peter corrects, smirking.
Tony narrows his eyes but it's not hard to tell he's just super worried rather than actually irked. "Pete, where did you get that?"
"And why are you on the table?" Steve asks. "Get down, you're going to hurt yourself."
Fleetingly glancing at Loki, who gives him a surreptitious thumbs up, Peter shrugs. "I got bored of waiting and decided to explore my options."
"Explore your options?" Natasha repeats blankly. "Out of everything you could have done, you chose to attack the Avengers with trickster's sceptre?"
Schooling his features into an expression of condescending scorn, Peter nods. "I am, after all, more than worthy of such a weapon."
That happens to be Loki's cue to clear his throat, effectively diverting their attention to where he's sat in the corner, wrapped up in webs. As they turn to him, he grimaces. "I wasn't aware you'd adopted someone worse than myself."
"Loki?" Thor's voice rises an octave as he glances at the same man who'd unleashed the tesseract supposedly defeated by a teenager with a radioactive spider bite and perhaps too much time on his hands.
"Well, obviously, moron. Aren't you going to, I don't know, kill him or something?" Loki asks, gesturing to Peter with his head.
Sharing a quick, confused but decisive look with Clint, Natasha steps forward. "Kid, I think we need to talk."
Peter shakes his head. "I think we need to stop talking and start giving me all the… Actually, we didn't plan this far so I guess we can just stop and leave it at that."
There's a moment where everybody opens their mouths to argue but finds themselves too shocked to say anything before Loki stands and walks towards Peter, brushing the webs away as he does, and Peter jumps off the table, standing in front of Loki so nobody shoots him in their confusion.
"What in the name of shawarma?" Tony exclaims finally, never having walking into something so strange.
"No, you iron idiot, it's called magic and theatrics." Loki smiles and, to everyone's utter bewilderment, ruffles Peter's hair.
"Did you guys finish an entire game of Mario?" Clint asks incredulously, obviously the first to notice the image of Bowser's bones on their television.
"No-"
"Yes-"
Peter and Loki glance at each other, trading glares that hold no malice whatsoever.
"You know what, this isn't even the craziest thing I've seen Peter do." Steve shakes his head and anyone who didn't know better would have cooed at the fondness in his voice.
Loki, sensing the tension in the air, coughs. "I'm no longer here to tear you all apart if that's what you're worried about."
Thor beams at him, moving forward to embrace him and totally forgetting about Peter, who gets trapped in the middle of them. Everyone watches as he protests quietly and manages to stick an arm out of the brothers' affectionate barrier, his head soon following as he dramatically crawls out to the side. Loki's remorseful and slightly irritated apology is muffled by Thor's unwanted but nonetheless comforting, congratulatory hug, which gives the rest of them a reason to laugh, except Tony who's quick to pull Peter away from the two Gods lest he gets squashed or injured in any way.
None of the Avengers can relax completely, which is only to be expected considering their history with Loki, but the anxiety in the room fades to negligible after a little while, the gang either retreating to their respective rooms to freshen up before they return or grabbing a snack and slowly accumulating in the living room, eventually being roped in to a game of Mario Kart by Peter, who's figured out exactly how to tick them all off enough to ensure their exasperation leads to them joining in to prove a point or using their annoyance as an excuse to succumb to their intrinsic desires of playing and winning a competative video time. Ultimately, when they're all squashed onto the sofa or the beanbags, personal space long dismissed, either actively controlling the characters with hilarious expressions of concentration or cheering each other on, their way of playing is a whole new experience and Peter has never felt so at home with them.
All in all, even though Peter wasn't prepared for such an eventful day - not that anyone can ever be prepared to fake a hostage situation with a God - he's more than glad to have been thrown into it. More often than not, he decides, strange parts of life are better encountered with an open mind instead of a meticulous itinerary that leaves no room for spontaneous craziness. He might technically be a superhero but, at the end of the day, he is also a teenager...
like/reblog but don’t repost, thanks!
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fibula-rasa · 6 years
Text
A Century of Glamour Ghouls: 1990s
Nancy Downs in The Craft (1996)
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The Movie
The Craft (1996) is widely thought of as a guilty pleasure for women who came of age in the 90s but in recent years its cult following has grown considerably and its reputation is being reconsidered. It’s a more complicated movie than most give it credit for despite its faults.
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Sarah (Robin Tunney) moves to LA from San Francisco with her father and stepmother following a suicide attempt. As she gets the lay of the land at her new Catholic high school, a fledgling coven of witches at the school recognize her natural talent for witchcraft and set their sights on her. Sarah’s new sisters all have struggles of their own and use witchcraft as a coping mechanism and as a means of empowerment. Nancy (Fairuza Balk), the de-facto leader, is deeply depressed and poor. Rochelle (Rachel True) is the only black girl in school and her teammates’ overt racism is holding her back from pursuing her passion for diving. Bonnie (Neve Campbell) is disfigured with burn scars covering much of her body. With the addition of Sarah to their coven, their witchcraft begins to produce real results. At first, their problems seems to be solved. The boy who spread rumours about Sarah after she turned him down for sex is now hopelessly obsessed with her. Nancy’s abusive father is dead and she and her mother now have a better lifestyle living on insurance money. Rochelle’s most violent tormentor starts to go bald. The painful treatment for Bonnie’s scars is suddenly successful. It doesn’t take long for things to spiral out of control though. Intra-coven conflict and a misunderstanding of the nature of magic(k) have dangerous consequences for all four of them.
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The Craft is one of the more interesting pieces of fiction to emerge from the ashes of the satanic panic of the 1980s. In the 1980s a moral panic was created around a number of later discredited stories about satan worship. While the initial panic focused mainly on child abuse and day care centers, once it settled into the cultural zeitgeist, satanism (and by extension witchcraft) became the scapegoat for all sorts of social issues. It’s a bit difficult to convey to anyone who didn’t live through it how pervasive this fear was in certain communities in the US. But honestly, if you go back and watch some episodes of the first seasons of Unsolved Mysteries, you’ll be a bit flabbergasted at how often parents and husbands tack satanism and witchcraft onto straight-forward crimes & missing-persons stories. The Craft was released in the aftermath of the panic just as it was receding. (As someone who was way into Marilyn Manson in the late 1990s, I can tell you for a fact that it didn’t die.) Quite cleverly, the film took the worst fears of gullible parents and realized them while simultaneously presenting a realistic depiction of the practice of witchcraft and Wiccan beliefs. Funnily enough, The Craft definitely encouraged a whole generation of kids to try out spells or witchy games at slumber parties across the country.
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The Look
Nancy Downs is a very mid-90s Southern Californian goth. She rocks a whole mess of styles throughout the film, some of which are very inappropriate for the weather (desert goth life), all of which are very inappropriate for Catholic school attendance. So, there are a lot of styling options for a Nancy cosplay.
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The Clothes
The base for many of Nancy’s outfits is her school uniform; white button up shirt and blue-and-green kilt. At school, she’s usually bare-legged and mixes up the uniform pieces with black undershirts or black mesh and a black leather jacket. More often later in the film, she goes full 90s goth witch with a long black jacket with flared sleeves and big flowy black and dark red skirts. Nancy’s ever-present accessories are rosaries worn as jewelry, a dog-collar choker, upside down cross earrings, a nose ring, and pointy lace-up ankle boots.
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I went the simple route: a play on the school uniform. I don’t own anything resembling a uniform kilt because I went to Catholic school myself for 16 years and will never own a skirt like that again. I also don’t own any black mesh, but I do have a pair of fishnets that I put on as sleeves. If you want to add color to a Nancy look, I’d recommend blood red in your accessories.
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The Makeup
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Nancy’s makeup is harsh though the face makeup is rarely very heavily applied. Nancy’s eyebrows are sharp and thin and her eyes are smoky and smudgy, later in the film her eye makeup gets deeper and less shimmery.
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It seems that is every scene, even if it’s directly contiguous with the scene prior, Nancy has reapplied her lipstick in a different shade. I love this because it subtly reinforces the notion that she exhibits compulsive behaviors and also suggests that perhaps her “five-finger discount” attitude extends beyond the magic shop to makeup counters and drug stores.
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Start with a neutral base and set it lightly with powder a shade lighter than your skin tone to get a California-goth pallor I concentrated some extra light powder under the hollows of my cheekbones to make my cheeks look fuller, more like Balk’s and more like a teenager’s.
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Deconstructing Nancy’s eye makeup was fun because I realized for the first time that it’s actually a pretty standard late-90s smoky eye with heavier liner. (1.) Start with a neutral gray shade as a blending base. (2.) Take a darker gray shade to build up the outer V of the eye concentrating the pigment at the crease and lashline. (3.) Take a black shadow (I went cool black with this, but you can go warm instead) and build up the deeper areas of shadow, take an angled brush and bring it along your lashline. Take what’s left on the brush and bring it under your eyes. (4.) Next take black liner and draw a thick line all around your eye with very little flaring at the outer edge. (5.) Go back in with your black shadow to set the liner and smudge the line a bit. Basically try to make it look like you didn’t wash off yesterday’s makeup and just reapplied more in the morning. (6.) For the highlighted parts of the eye, silver would be perfect. I don’t have any silver shadow, so I went in with white shadow and a pearl-colored highlighter to get the shimmer. Concentrate the silvery shade on the inner and middle part of the mobile lid and on the browbone. (7.) To finish off the eye, tightline your eyes with black liner and load up your eyelashes with black mascara.
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For the brows, go in with black powder on a wet brush so it’ll be easier to correct mistakes. The head is a lot fuller than the tail, which tapers dramatically. It’s a more natural shape than the sperm brow that was starting to take over at the time.
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For my Nancy look, I chose to go with a brownish lip because most Nancy cosplayers gravitate toward the bright red and black combo. The same method applies, just choose the colors you like best. Take a brown, black, or burgundy liner and fill out your bottom lip and line your upper lip to be just a touch smaller than your lower lip. Fill in the center of your lips with a nude brown or red lipstick and blend it into the liner. Don’t blend too much though because you want to keep the liner distinct.
With your liner brush at the ready, draw a small beauty mark on your right cheek an inch or two from your mouth. I already have a beauty mark here, so I just filled it in.
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The 1910s | The 1920s | The 1930s | The 1940s | The 1950s | The 1960s | The 1970s | The 1980s | The 2000s
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notfallplan · 6 years
Text
Hold My Hand
Summary:  Dia knows this isn’t her type of scene, not the type of people she’d ever interact with but for some reason and luck, she’s outside of a music festival waiting for her date. (based off from the punk rock set)
Pairing: Kanan Matsuura/Dia Kurosawa (KanaDia)
AO3 LINK
Notes: if you follow me on twitter you already know what this is about.
Dia scans her surroundings, all she sees are big, burly men with tattoos all over their arms, loudly guffawing at whatever their mates have said, some teenage boys with the same haircut- probably annoying and should avoid, and women in leather jackets and ripped jeans with multiple piercings on their faces (hopefully she can befriend one or two), and even though she’s almost wearing the exact same outfit as them, she can’t help but still feel so out of place.
I am out of place, she knows this isn’t her type of scene, not the type of people she’d ever interact with but for some reason and luck, she’s outside of a music festival waiting for her date.
Yes, she has a date, when she first realized it, she has to say it multiple times for her to actually believe it.
She didn’t plan on it actually, she was just at this underground concert with her best friend Mari, who loves dragging her to metal concerts even though she has never been fond of it no matter how much her blonde friend forces her to listen to it.
She had a drink or two and Mari- a good friend that she is, didn’t stop her, “Dia I just want to see you lose control for once!”
And lose control she did.
She remembers jumping and screaming, Mari even said she got pulled up at the stage but she doesn’t remember that (Dia doesn’t know whether she should be thankful that she doesn’t remember and that Mari could be lying or be mortified), but she does remember seeing a blue-haired girl in a ponytail, with headphones around her neck, wearing a leather jacket and a very, very short, shorts, she swore a spotlight suddenly lit up on the girl and that she heard angels singing instead of someone on stage screaming on top of their lungs only for it to come out as if they’re taking a huge dump, and before her drunk self can think of any better, she started walking towards the girl and by some luck, bravery but mostly because of alcohol, she flirted her and got herself a date.
And next thing she knew, she just woke up with the girl’s number written on her arm with black lipstick.
The days before the date, she had to ask Mari to play one of her music so loud just so she’d wake up from whatever dream she’s on, she actually felt their old traditional house shake, and she just knew that this is real.
The girl, whom she just got to know by the name Kanan through their back and forth texting, decided to take her on this music festival, she agreed instantly without any thought, her mouth just blurted out a quick and loud yes over the phone, that she quickly clamped her hand on her mouth, but god was hearing Kanan’s giggle so worth it.  
And at that moment, she just knew she has a huge gay crush on this girl.
She looked up at the list of performer’s who’d be there, and once she saw it, she feels dread at the pit of her stomach and her Britney Spears poster on her room staring daggers at the back of her head, “they’re all heavy metal bands” she says, dumbfounded.
Dia doesn’t hate rock, metal or any kind of heavy music per se, but rather, it’s just not her type, and if she has the choice, she would never ever listen to them or actually attend any of their concerts.
She then spent the remaining days, looking up at the bands and trying to listen to their music, watched youtube videos and observed the strange habitat of metalheads during a concert.
“They sure do like, having their bodies too close”, she frowns and feels uneasy at the thought of huge men being way too close to her.
She shudders.
After thorough research for her date, she’s glad to say that she has never been more scared in her entire life.
Mari dragging her to underground concerts was one thing, everyone in there are always drunk and it was dark and she was always with the blonde to keep her in check. So this time around, she’s deathly afraid she might look like a huge fool in front of this very , very cool girl that she so wants to impress because she's Dia Kurosawa, the calm and collected school president, and she is very, very, very cool too.
Well that’s what Ruby says and Ruby doesn’t lie.
And now the day has come, and she still remembers the disaster this early morning was. She and Kanan are supposed to meet at the entrance of the festival at 5 o’clock and it was only 9 a.m. and she was already freaking out.
She thrashed her room, flipped everything upside down to try and find a good suitable outfit but alas, all she has are pink and red flannels,overalls, skirts that touches her knees, jeans and Britney Spears inspired outfits (it’s not for cosplay she’d say). A week of research but she failed on the clothing department and at that point, she was just ready to cancel the date and fly out to Antarctica and live the rest of her life in igloos along with her sisters, the penguins.
But for some reason god decided to take pity on her when she heard the doorbell ring and Mari’s high pitched voice screaming at her. Her friend brought her own clothes for Dia to try out because she just knew how much of a disaster lesbian Dia actually is.
(It's not like Dia bombarded Mari's phone with multiple texts with just the word HELP.)
Mari helped her with her hair, makeup and sorted out her outfit for the day. She’s grateful for her friend no matter how annoying and aggravating she can be, maybe penguins and Ruby aren’t her only sisters but also this one annoying goldilocks too.
And now, Dia finds herself outside of the festival, wearing this cool leather jacket that has a bit of red in it a white top under it, her favorite red flannel tied around her waist, a very short skirt and boots to finish her “I’m punk rock actually” look.
Mari dropped her off fifteen minutes before it hits 5 o’clock because Dia wants to get a feel of her surroundings first and mentally prepare herself.
“Good luck Dia, make sure to not accidentally take part in the wall of death!”
“Wall of what?!” Dia exclaimed
“Ciao!” and with that the blonde girl drive off.
Now, as Dia stands there, alone, five minutes remaining until Kanan shows up (hopefully she isn’t tardy), she can’t help but feel fear dread take over her body and her palms feels like it can end drought and oh god, I’m sweating, I’m sweating.
She’s nervous, she’s scared. This is her first date, and with a beautiful girl at that, she just hopes god is still out there with her, please don’t make me look like an idiot.
She gulps and grips the pink lollipop, courtesy of her little sister Ruby who gave it to her before they left and said it might help to calm down her nerves, she’s not exactly right but she does appreciate the gesture.
She fishes out her phone from her jacket’s pocket and saw it’s already 5:01, she’s late.
She feels someone in front of her and she looks up and she freezes.
“Hey Dia”
Her heart stops.
“I’m sorry if I’m a bit late, I went to see my friend first to get our tickets but she had a hard time trying to find a parking space”, Kanan laughs exasperated. She’s wearing the same kind of outfit when she last saw her but this time the purple headphones is now red, my favorite color, Dia wants to say it’s just a coincidence but it’s not a coincidence.
And seeing Kanan up close, in the warm glow of the afternoon sun, she looks and seems like a delinquent on the surface and she thinks of how she would have never interacted with anyone like Kanan, how people like her usually gives her the vibe of violence and rule breaking, and just a group of people that Dia would rather drop dead than be seen hanging out with them and or probably be the one to call on the police on them.
But Kanan, Kanan gives off this homey feeling that Dia loves and can’t quite understand as to how someone she’s only communicated through calls and texts makes her feel so light.
“I hope you weren’t waiting too long.”
Dia swallows, she can feel her face heat up, probably from the heat and her palms are still so sweaty, and she laughs softly and shakes her head, “No, no, it’s fine I just got here actually.”
Kanan beams and Dia feels her knees go weak, “Alright, lets go then!”
The blue-haired girl held out her hand, and Dia, for a few seconds, just looked at it.
“Is there something wrong? Am I being too forward?” Kanan asks, her eyebrows furrowing.
Dia immediately blurts out a “No!”, she looks down and she knows this time her face isn’t hot because of the heat.
“I just…” I don’t know whether or not to tell her, she might find me weird or gr-
“Don’t worry, I’m nervous too,” Kanan smiles at her, teeth and all, and she swears those pearly whites are reflecting the sun’s rays, “which means my palms are a bit sweaty too, so we can be gross together unless that’s not what you were thinking and I’m being weird.”
Dia’s eyes widens, she can feel her heart thrum so hard against her chest, that she’s afraid that even with all the noise surrounding them, Kanan might hear it.
“You’re nervous?” Dia asks.
Because how could she be nervous? Do punk rockers even get nervous?
The punk rock girl nods, and amethyst eyes meets emerald ones and it feels like she’s in a Taylor Swift song from her early albums, “You’re beautiful and really cool” Kanan mumbled as she starts scratching the back of her head, “and I’d really want to get to know you more and I’m just afraid I might not be doing a good job at this whole date thing.”
At this point, Dia’s heart just wants to be let out of her ribcage and slap Kanan’s face with all the love it can give and maybe she just wants to kiss the heck out of Kanan right here and right now.
Get a hold of yourself Kurosawa.
And so Dia just takes Kanan’s hand, she wasn’t lying, and she looks forward and she bites her lip to stop herself from grinning too much.
She pulls the punk rock girl along to the entrance and says, “You’re really beautiful too Kanan and don’t worry, you’re doing an amazing job.”
Kanan squeezes her hand and with her back turned, she wasn’t able to see the soft smile and pink cheek of the blue-haired girl.
They first get some water bottles before they get into the pit and Dia finishes the lollipop Ruby gave her, for as much as she doesn’t really want it, it was given to her by her little sister. As she eats, Kanan brings out her map of the festival and Dia sees some dolphin stickers next to the band names.
“I picked out some of the bands I want to see for tonight, is there any band you would like to see? And don’t worry, if its conflict with the band I want to see, it’s okay, I’d tag along with you wherever and whoever it is okay?”
Dia softly says an okay, and as she looks at the map with all the different bands, even with her research she still doesn’t know which bands are worth more listening or seeing to, and honestly, she’d rather sit out of it if she can.
But Kanan might get suspicious her, after all, she did say during her drunken state how much she just loves metal bands and has been playing along with it the entire time Kanan and her were exchanging texts, that she has to have her laptop next to her the entire time so she can quickly search up whatever it was Kanan was talking about.
“Uhm, how about we just go along with all the bands you want to see?”
Kanan tilts her head to the side, “Are you sure?”
“Yeah, I like all of the ones you picked honestly.”
“Well if you say so, come on then!” Kanan takes a hold of her hand this time and they both start running towards the first stage Kanan wants to get into.
They try to push forward, to get to the front of the stage but with their enemies having such huge and sturdy bodies, they were only able to make it into the middle.
“Well looks it’s center for us then, if you’re unable to see just tell me okay?”
Dia laughs, “what are you gonna do? Carry me?”
Kanan hums and says, “Yeah, you can sit on my shoulder”
Dia feels like she’s going to choke with her own saliva that she starts dry coughing.
She hears Kanan laugh and she pouts as she lightly punches the girl on the arm.
“I’m not kidding though.”
Before Dia could reply, they hear everyone start screaming along with the beat of the drums and the strum of the guitars.
“It’s starting!!” Kanan happily shouts.
Dia just gulps and she looks up at the sky, god please don’t let me die.
The first few minutes were okay, everyone was jumping and has their arms up, and dear god, some of them need to learn what a deodorant is, there were some light shoving and everytime she releases an “ow” Kanan is quick to pull Dia towards her body and glare at whoever it was and how much she wishes that she’d just stay like that the whole time, with Kanan’s arms around her.
She sees Kanan shouting, and screaming some of the lyrics and she tries too, really, she knows this song, barely, but she remembers some of the lyrics but she feels like a puppy barking while the rest are roaring tigers.
This is not her type of scene, but as she looks at Kanan, who has this huge grin on her face, her face flushed, and a huge grin on her face as she screams along with the vocalist, Dia feels that maybe, just maybe, going to this sort of things more would be okay, as long as the punk rock beauty is with her.
They run back and forth to get to the stages with the bands Kanan wants to see, it’s exhilarating and fun, as they always dash around with their hands clasped together, never letting go of one another.
They always only make it to the middle, but Kanan says it’s okay, and it’s more fun to be in the center of things.
“This one goes pretty hardcore, have you listened to them Dia?”
So the other ones before this aren’t even that hardcore?
“Not really?”
“Ahh I hope you like them, they’re one of my favorite bands!”
Dia thinks it’s okay, that it’s actually more hardcore than the other ones they’ve seen but as it goes on, the music gets wilder, louder and the crowd starts being more aggressive and she can’t quite know what’s going on at the front but she can see some people hit and slam each other with their own bodies that she just wants to go home and hide under her bed, but she has to remind herself that this is called “moshing” according to her research and that it’s normal for these people.
She then hears a booming “pick a side motherfuckers” from the lead vocalist, now she’s heard profanities before and has even said some herself but that one feels like the crispiest profanity she has ever heard.
“Do you want to participate in that?” Kanan shouts.
“Participate in what?”
“The-“
“GO BACK MORE MOTHERFUCKERS”
Everyone around them starts going to the side leaving a huge space in the middle now and Dia just goes with the flow of things and starts walking to the side that is until, she realizes that can’t see where Kanan is anymore.
“Kanan?” she shouts. She searches for a blue in the crowd but it proves to be difficult for it’s has now grown considerably darker despite way too many lights on the field and she’s far too short and everyone is just so suddenly taller than her.
“Kanan?!” she shouts again.
“NOW I WANT YOU TO KILL THOSE FUCKERS IN THE MIDDLE”
“What?!” Dia feels her chest tighten, her breathing becoming very fast, her head becoming light but eyes keep searching the crowd.
She feels bodies press on to her as more people walk to the side, she tries to push away but to no avail, she’s just being shoved even more and she wants to cry, she can already feel her eyes becoming hot and tears prickling the corner of her eyes.
Dia then hears the start of a fast drum beat and an even louder and crazier strum of guitars and before she can comprehend what’s going on, she hears a loud “FUCK IT UP!!” and everyone around her starts running to the middle, she closes her eyes and braces herself for the impact of what’s about to happen but all of a sudden she feels a pair of strong arms wrap around her and her head being tucked at the chin of the person holding her.
She suddenly opens her eyes and sees the color of Kanan’s jacket, she feels her lips quiver as she wraps her arms around Kanan’s waist and buries her head to the girl’s neck and Dia is bombarded with the scent of bubblegum and a strawberry scent perfume and Dia has never felt so safe and just so at ease despite of what’s happening around them.
She feels some light shoving but it isn’t as bad compared to the person protecting her, for she can hear Kanan groaning and holding her tighter.
It’s the longest one minute of her life, just standing there, in Kanan’s arms, with people around them looking so rabid and wild as they run towards the middle, to “kill” those poor souls who thinks they can get through whatever this is alive.
And Dia feels conflicted whether she’s in heaven or hell, for as chaotic as everything is right now, at least she’s being held by an angel.
She can feel everything calm down now, and everyone around her are slowly going to back to as normal as they are in these type of things.
Kanan is the one who lets go first, and Dia can’t help but feel empty all of a sudden, as if life has been sucked out of her, but as soon as she felt that, it is quickly replaced with a warm feeling in her stomach as Kanan holds her hand and starts walking to the exit.
“Let’s go Dia.”
Dia snaps out of the state she’s in, and pulls her hand out of Kanan’s hold and shakes her head, “No, no, I’m okay, see? You didn’t need to protect me, I was actually worried about you. And you like this band right? Come on Kanan let’s go back there.”
She hears Kanan sigh, and Dia just snaps her mouth shut.
This is it then.
But as she looks at Kanan’s amethyst eyes, holding nothing but kindness and adoration, she thinks of how doesn’t deserve that at all.
“It’s okay Dia, let’s just go okay?” and with that Kanan slips her hand to Dia’s again.
Dia squeezes Kanan’s hand and mutters a soft, “okay.”
They walk together hand in hand, she sees people bustling around, and trying to get on the stages of the band they want to see.
She looks at Kanan, and the blue-haired girl’s face looks calm and serene, maybe she hasn’t caught on at all.
But then she notices they’re headed off to the exit of the festival and she stops, “Kanan?”
“Hmm?” Kanan next to her and doesn’t let go of her hand.
“Are we leaving already? You still have three bands on your list to see right? I thought we were just going to take a break.”
Kanan chuckles, and Dia blushes, “no, I figured we’d go somewhere else that suits you, like a nice restaurant that has live music or something.”
“What? Why?”
“Well the night is still young, our date still isn’t over and Dia please, I know you’re not into these kind of things.”
Dia sputters, “w-w-what? Of course I’m into these kind of things!”
“Oh yeah? What do you think of Slipknot?”
“I might not have heard of them but I love My Chemical Romance and the likes”, Dia proclaimed.
Kanan chortles, “Oh yeah? Have you seen them?”
Dia lets go of Kanan’s hand and folds her arms on her chest, “I haven’t yet, but soon.”
“Soon huh? Like during their reunion?” Kanan teases.
The brunette’s arms falls limp on her sides, “huh?”
And with that, Kanan guffaws.
Dia feels her face heat up, that she feels like smoke is coming out of her ears with how embarrassed she is.
People are staring at them and Dia thinks of how moving in Antarctica is the best choice after all.
Kanan continues to cackle and Dia can see how there are tears at the corner of the girl’s eyes.
“Stop laughing at me you jerk!” Dia pouts.
Kanan’s laugh starts to subside, and wipes the corner of her eyes with her fingers, “I’m sorry Dia, it’s just that, My Chem has been disbanded for a while now and I didn’t think you’d still try to keep up the act.”
Yep, Dia sure wants to live with her fellow penguins now.
Dia turns away from Kanan and hugs herself, trying to keep it all together, I’ve completely humiliated myself in front of the coolest and most beautiful girl I know, this is it. This is how I die.
And for the second time today, she feels Kanan’s arms around her, as the blue-haired girl enveloped her to a hug from behind.
“Hey” Kanan coaxes, “don’t worry about it. I actually thought it was cute and amazing, but at the same time I feel like I’m not worth any of this trouble but here we are, you pretended to like something you don’t and I honestly admire that and..”
Dia raises an eyebrow, she turns around, without escaping from Kanan’s embrace, they’re so close together, she sees Kanan’s cheeks are red, and Dia feels her pulse quicken, somehow, she doesn’t care at all if Kanan hears and feel how fast her heart is beating.
“And what Kanan?” Dia asks, softly, her emerald eyes searching Kanan’s for what ever it is the girl might be feeling.
But Kanan’s purple ones are clouded with something that Dia can’t decipher, something Dia has never seen before, there’s intensity behind them and she thought she’s seen all kinds of emotions in a person’s eyes for it’s one of her tactics when she’s interrogating students.
Kanan inhales, “and”, exhales, “it might be too early to say this but I think I’m falling for you.”
Dia swears everything around her goes still, the noises fades, and she doesn’t care if there are people looking, for what matters right now, is the girl in front of her.
It’s like seeing Kanan for the first time again, with the light of the moon blanketing the two of them along with the different lights of the festival, that Dia feels like everything is just an illusion, that she’s still somewhere in that underground club, drunk out of her mind with Mari still giving her drinks.
But the arms around her shoulders, Kanan’s heavy breathing and that sweet bubblegum, and her heart that she feels like she’s consumed ten cups of coffee due to the words that the girl in front of her had said, resonating so much in her that she thinks otherwise.
This is real.
And, “Can I kiss you?” she asks, her mouth moving faster than her brain.
Kanan’s eyes widens, and Dia’s about to bolt, but the blue-haired girl must have seen the panic in her eyes for she holds Dia in place and says, “yes.”
And before Dia could react any further, Kanan places her hand at Dia’s nape, and their lips meets for the first time.
Dia closes her eyes and melts into the kiss. She has never kissed anyone before, she’s read people kissing and or just gathered descriptions from her country songs, she always dreamed of that fairytale like kiss, something grandiose that’ll sweep off her feet, and at this moment, with hers and Kanan’s lips moving together in sync, as if they’re meant to do this, her arms wrapping around Kanan’s neck and her mind just screaming Kanan, Kanan, Kanan, she knows, that nothing can compare to this.
Kanan is the first one to pull away, and Dia feels light headed as she comes back to reality. She hears people howling and clapping, and she doesn’t know if it’s directed at them and if so, should she be embarrassed or offended by it.
“You okay?” Kanan asks, her breathing heavy.
All Dia can do is hum, still feeling and she hears Kanan chuckle as she takes her back in her embrace.
“Let’s go to this restaurant my friend loves, I heard there’s a band that’ll cover Tim McGraw tonight.”
Dia chokes, and Kanan chuckles, she swears it’s unfair how angelic Kanan’s laugh is for if this is anyone else, she would have ended them.
She feels something light press on the side of her head, and Dia thinks it might be early to say it too but,
“I think I’m falling for you too.”
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