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sitp-recs · 3 years

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First line game

Rules: List the first lines of your last 20 stories (if you have less than 20 stories, just list them all). See if there are any patterns. Choose your favorite opening line. Then tag 10 of your favorite authors. If you’re seeing this, YOU are tagged!

I was tagged by the lovelies @the-starryknight and @tackytigerfic and while I’m very flattered that they thought my recs somehow deserved to feature on this mighty thread, I could not pass the opportunity to celebrate these works some more, so I cheated a little bit and decided to make it about the quotes I chose to illustrate my last 20 recs. Hope that’s okay :)

As for my favorite opening line from one of my own recs, I gotta go with “Haters will say I gave this fic the big spot because it was written for my birthday... and they would be right”. This was written for Tacky’s Collapsed in Love, that I recced on Valentine’s Day ❤️

1) The Snitch-Maker by Omi_Ohmy:

He understood then that he’d thought of Potter as hero for years. An ache twisted through him, and he wasn’t sure it was for himself, or Potter. Or maybe for everyone who’d lived through those awful years.

2) Unfinished Business by cupiscent:

He'd looked up with those haunted eyes, and Draco had almost faltered in that moment, even after he'd thought himself resolved. He'd known that Potter. Mocked him, challenged him, hated him - but known him. This icon on stage was a stranger.

3) Like Gold by @the-sinking-ship:

Draco grinned so wide his cheeks ached and he practically ran the rest of the way. He snagged the matching black helmet off the seat and jammed it over his head, as he’d done a hundred times before.

4) Absurd by Blowfish_Diaries:

“I’d do anything for you, Harry.” I used to hate how easily he drew these sorts of blunt, honest confessions from me, but I’ve made my peace with it.

5) On the Balcony by @firethesound:

“I’m trying to be romantic.”

“You’re trying to get your hand on my cock.”

“Is there a difference?” Draco asked. He ate another bite of custard, practically fellating his spoon in the process.

6) A Hyperactive Fruit, a Nasty Neighbour and a Love Story by synonym4life:

A top that looked as if a homeless person had worn it, threw it away (because even homeless people had standards), and then another homeless person took the rag from a bin for his dog to lie on, threw it away as well (because even dogs had standards), and only then did Potter pick it out from the trash and decided it was as good a garment as any to wear to the Ministry.

7) Collapsed in Love by @tackytigerfic:

He worries about Teddy all the time, especially since he started school, and Teddy, who’s been loved all his life and is confident that he always will be, has no compunction about being a little shit to the people who care about him. And Harry cares about him the most.

8) Our Ordinary Days by Lomonaaeren:

And the greater life, the greater spirit, running through his body as though through his veins? Draco liked to think that came from all of them, Harry and himself and Teddy and even the Weasleys.

9) Student Digs by Lokifan:

He gave me a sharp look and I felt myself wither. Not because of Harry’s expression, exactly; but because I’ve spent a lot of time over the last few years putting up with things because I was helpless to change them.

10) Misguided at Best by agentmoppet:

“What was that?” Draco asks, because he's a bastard, and because it's his role to give Potter what he wants, and Potter wants to beg.

11) A Charitable Christmas by Alisanne:

Throwing his head back, Malfoy laughed. “So,” he said once he’d sobered, “it seems we both have stories to either prove or debunk.” Draining his glass once more, he stood up. “Well? Shall we?”

12) Exiled by A_factorygirl_69:

"I miss England," Draco said, crossing his arms and stubbornly staring out the glass. "Doesn't usually rain here. Not like it does at home—England, I mean." Draco said 'England' much louder the second time, trying to cover up the word he said before it.

13) Cold Like Fire by @queenofthyme:

“Auror Potter” Draco said - how Harry hated being called that - “I’m not about to tuck serviettes down my shirt and eat with my hands just because it suits some absurd purpose of yours.”

14) Day Shift on Diagon by @prolix-:

Draco comes to realise that he had fallen for a caricature of the man. As a barista, Harry was uncomplicated, quiet and unfailingly kind. Faultless but flat. It's a joy, learning just how complicated the man really is.

15) The Art of Seduction by playout:

If letting Draco take him to the dance floor had been a Very Bad Idea, Harry fisting his hands in Draco's shirt hard enough to tear it in two and snogging him with the ferocity of several years' worth of pent up sexual frustration and chronic vexation was a colossally bad one.

16) Autumn Drarry Drabbles by @peachpety: this is actually a collection I recced on a collab with @thedrarrylibrarian, but if I had to choose only 1 (one) quote it would be this one from her drabble #12 - Manor House No.7:

Draco holds his gaze, absorbing the sunshine smell of him, like happiness and contentment. The terrifying pull in his gut takes hold, opposing magnetic poles attracting, urging him to reach out and capture him, to click perfectly into place. The moment expands, a pause at the end of an exhale, lungs empty and still.

17) Of toenail clippings and designer underwear by @andithiel:

“I just… I like your hair a little messier,” he added quietly, as he shrank into his book, unable to help himself.

18) Big Hands by @fw00shy:

Draco thought about those colossal hands delicately making their way through his piece, and wanted with such an intensity that he nearly collapsed over the piano bench.

19) Voices from the Fog by @noeeon:

“How are you going to find out what either of us wants if you don’t stay?”

20) Special Edition by Leela:

Years of hard work to restore the Malfoy name and he'd tossed it away for what? His stomach began to roil as another memory swam into focus, of him kissing Potter, of Potter kissing him. His hand shook, spilling lukewarm coffee over his skin.

#first line game #tag meme

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brooken-tcc · 3 years

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Brooke

It was the anniversary of my mother's death.

I was drunk, resting my head in Leela's lap, giggling about nothing.

We must had been loud, but we didn't care.

Ms. Polinski was on dorm watch and we weren't afraid of her, I actually think she was afraid of us.

She'd knocked about three times in fifteen minutes when she finally looked in, we never gave her an answer.

"Thompson, Donovan, you've got two minutes to dress up and go to sleep." She pointed at us and we looked at each other, bursting into laughter. "Alright that's it." She got her phone out and pretended to be calling someone.

"Stupid bitch." Leela whispered and I sat up to feel less dizzy. "Who's she calling?"

"No one." I rolled my eyes and walked up to Ms. Polinski. "Hasn't been two minutes, has it?" I smiled and walked past her to go to my bathroom.

I didn't need to go, I just wanted to annoy her. Then about two minutes later Leela walked in on me, wearing a shirt already and handing one to me.

"She fuckig called Owen." She said and I laughed again.

Leela didn't find it so funny.

Owen had the reputation of a chill, laid back guy, and the yelling, strict teacher at the same time. I think he had some self control issues. Anyway, he was all cool, until it came to cheating or using substances. Then he became the opposite of cool. Maybe he was bipolar.

But he'd never yelled at me.

Also, I wasn't sure if Polinski called him to yell at us or to hang with him, she definitely had a crush on him. Who didn't?

We decided not to get out of the bathroom, Owen wasn't allowed to come in, was he?

"Open up girls." I heard his voice. He sounded mad.

"Brooke's sick." Leela yelled and I groaned, kneeling in front of the toilet to pretend.

She held my hair and flushed the toilet.

"Can I come in?"

"No!" Leela yelled again, but the door opened and Ms. Polinski looked in.

I'm guessing she saw us being dressed and let Owen in, cause by the time I looked up he was standing next to me.

"You two are done with lacrosse, and you can be glad I'm not taking this any further." He didn't seem to be joking.

"Owen, I..." Leela tried, clearly scared.

I think she always took him more seriously than I did. Maybe she was right to do so.

"It's Mr. McField for you." He groaned and I could feel Ms. Polinski's pride, thinking she is the only one calling him 'Owen' tonight.

"We barely had anything, you can't be serious." Leela continued.

"I warned you three times." Polinski pointed at the door, telling Leela to go back to her room.

"You didn't." I shook my head, still kneeling at the toilet.

I figured I would make them uncomfortable and made myself throw up, I didn't want to be around them any more.

Just as I thought, Polinski ran to the hallway, unfortunately dragging Leela with her.

"You alright luv?" Owen got down next to me, flushing the toilet when I leaned back to the wall.

"Must be bulimic." I smiled after whipping my face with toilet paper.

"Definitely not drunk." He laughed. "I'm not gonna yell at you, but you're off my team." He said in a surprisingly nice voice.

Well I guess I deserved that. Papa will be proud.

"Alright, go on home." I nodded, I wanted him gone.

If he didn't see I was suffering, then I didn't need him there.

"I'm on dorm duty in the west wing." He filled me in, not sure what for.

"Then go do your job." I got up and went to the sink to wash my teeth.

"My hands are tied Brooke, I can't fuckig help you if you keep breaking the rules." He sighed and reached for the door. "I'm a teacher, for god's sake."

"That's right." I smiled with my toothbrush in my mouth. "So go on and be a teacher." I waved goodbye and he left.

He fucking left me again. Just like last time.

Well, I left him that time, but he could have come after me. Fuck him.

I fixed myself up and went to bed, having that bitch Polinski check on me twice as I did so.

I texted Leela to say sorry, it was my idea for once to drink tonight, I got her into trouble.

"I'm sorry Brooke. I know you don't want me to help you, but at least don't pretend I'm not trying to. - Owen" He messaged me.

He had my number from lacrosse tournaments, we had group chats and stuff, but we rarely ever texted privately, and even then, only about lacrosse.

This was strange, but exciting.

I guess Owen and I always had a strong bond, a bond that kept us feeling close to each other, even if we didn't necessarily knew the other one. We just felt like we did. And I liked that feeling.

"Ok." I answered and put my phone down, trying to fall asleep.

I knew I was being a bitch, but I couldn't help it. I didn't know how to act differently. I couldn't let people in. Maybe I should have.

"I'm sorry too." I texted him again, after laying in my bed for ten minutes. "I'm just fucked up. I understand your reasons for kicking us off, it's the right thing to do."

I was lying. I didn't think we should be kicked off, and I knew damn well I was gonna cry my way back to the team.

Or I might as well just hang myself before Papa does, when I go home as a failure.

"Yes. Why are you fucked up?"

"Isn't everybody?"

"Not as much as you."

"It's a long story. But just know, I don't mean to be a bitch to you. It's just what comes naturally."

He didn't answer for about three minutes and I thought our conversation was over, then he texted me again.

"You are a bitch, yes."

I laughed.

"Did Ms. Polinski make a move on you tonight?" I tried chatting about something different, not about me. Something fun.

"None of your business love..." Oh so now he wanted to be distant?

"Just jealous😛"

"Yes she did."

"Oooh."

"What'd she do?

"Go down?"

Again, no answer for several minutes, but I was too excited to fall asleep. I knew I shouldn't have reminded him of me going down on him, but I also didn't care.

Let him remember how good I was.

"Just wanted a chat. How are you?"

He was weird. Who texts like that? You don't send two different messages in one.

"That's what she asked?"

"No. I'm asking."

"I will be fine. Just gotta tell my father somehow."

"But it's not your fault🙃"

Yes, I already started making him feel guilty, you can never start too early.

"Heard some rumors about him. Will he take it okay?"

There it was. I'd known Owen for a while now, but we managed to skip the family stories so far. I didn't know anything about his and he didn't know about mine, or at least not from me. But as I already said, he must have heard things. And I was right.

"What did you hear?"

"Not much. But I know you're scared of him. I've met him, remember?"

Yeah, true, he always came to the end of the year ceremony, talking to my teachers about how proud he is of me.

He isn't, he just pretends to be.

"My parents beat me as a child. I understand your behavior. But it doesn't make it right."

Beat him? I didn't know that. Wow.

"Sorry to hear. Must have been rough."

I was sorry for him, I couldn't imagine having both parents be cruel to me.

"But he doesn't hurt me. Never has."

I lied.

I had been told several times not to leave trace of my abuse, or else there would be no trace of me.

And Papa wasn't just threatening. My mother didn't leave us, she was gone. Gone gone.

#teacher crush community #teacher crush #tc #tcc #story #wattpad #brooken #imagine #tc imagine

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hollyoaksloversx · 4 years

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Diane’s Decision...

Rounding up a week in Hollyoaks (14th-18th September 2020)

Edward continued to behave like a prize git this week as his meddling in Tony and Diane’s relationship stepped up a gear. With Tony having spent lockdown in a caravan, Diane was keen to get him more involved with his family and so invited him to Ant’s scooter competition. However, Tony was reluctant to attend, worrying that he would end up harming his wife and children. Tony was later seen making a video call to Edward, telling him he had done what he had said. The following day, Tony picked a fight with Warren, but Edward arrived before any punches were thrown. Once inside the caravan, Edward presented Tony with some pictures that the kids had drawn of him, however, Tony was heartbroken to discover that the pictures were all of monsters. As a devastated Tony came to terms with the belief that his children were scared of him, flashbacks showed that Edward was behind it all, as he had instructed the kids to draw some pictures of monsters.

Playing the doting Father, Edward put on the performance of a lifetime as he told Tony that he blamed himself for his condition. Later, Tony decided that Diane and the children deserved better, and set up a date between her and Edward. Diane was shocked by Tony’s actions, and soon became angry by the situation, pointing out that she didn’t need a man to take care of her. Diane rejected Edward and asked him to move out, vying to stand by her husband. Although initially shocked by Diane’s actions, Edward soon began plotting again, and told Verity that he’d accepted a job abroad. Word of Edward’s plan soon reached Diane, and it made her realise that it was Edward she wanted after all. Please excuse me whilst I throw up...

Meanwhile, James was meeting an important client for lunch, and asked John Paul to accompany him as his plus one. With George off meeting old friend, Andy, John Paul was at a loose end, and happily accepted James’s offer. As John Paul and James enjoyed their afternoon together, George’s meeting with his friend didn’t go according to plan, when he realised he’d been tricked and it was an old boyfriend, Dean, he was meeting. George was immediately uncomfortable when Dean approached him, and it soon transpired that PC Kiss may not be quite as nice as we’ve been lead to believe...

George’s encounter with Dean left him in a foul mood, and things only got worse when he saw a tipsy James and John Paul together in the village. As the pair set about defending themselves, George decided to arrest the pair; James for drinking in public, and John Paul for littering when he dropped the wine bottle he’d prised from James’s hand. Once at the police station, George locked John Paul and James in a cell together, and ordered John Paul to decide once and for all who he wanted to be with. For a moment, it looked as though John Paul might choose James, however, he decided that his future lay with George.

In other news this week, with Brooke having been spending so much time with Oscar recently, Ollie was pleased to have her to himself as she agreed to attend Imran’s party with him. However, the party turned out to be a far bigger gathering than Brooke had been anticipating, and she told Ollie that she wanted to go home. Ollie reacted angrily, telling Brooke that he was fed up with the fact that her autism meant that she always had to come first. Finally, under pressure from Victor and Jordan, Juliet and Sid decided to sell drugs at the party, but it wasn’t a totally bad night for Juliet, as she ended up snogging Peri!

This Week’s Cast:

Anthony, Brody, Brooke, Cher, Dee Dee, Diane, Edward, George, Goldie, Imran, James, John Paul, Jordan, Juliet, Leela, Matthew, Mercedes, Nana McQueen, Oliver, Peri, Romeo, Rose, Tom, Tony, Sami, Sally, Sid, Verity, Victor, Warren and Yasmine.

Blasts from the Past:

Kyle Kelly, Breda McQueen, Mac Nightingale, Harry Thompson.

#Hollyoaks #Highlight #Tony Hutchinson #Diane O'Connor #Edward Hutchinson #John Paul McQueen #James Nightingale #George Kiss #Peri Lomax #Juliet Quinn #Sid Sumner #Brooke Hathaway #Oliver Morgan

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papergardener · 4 years

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Futurama Fanfic: Paths

Genre: Hurt/Comfort, Friendship, Family Characters: Turanga Leela, Philip J Fry, Leela’s Parents Summary: In which Leela has a vision of what if everything went wrong when she first meets her parents. Based on the episode 'Leela's Homeworld.'

“Hey, Leela?” She turned to see Fry had followed her. It was much quieter once the door shuttered behind him. “You okay?”

“Yeah. Just couldn’t sleep.”

“Uh huh,” Fry said, nodding. “Cause of earlier? That dumb alien thing?”

Leela shrugged, and then looked more closely at Fry, and realized this was an odd hour for him to be watching underground robot fighting, even with Bender’s bad influence. There were shadows under his eyes. “Want to walk with me?”

Paths (Ao3 Link)

She still remembered the sharp recoil of the gun as it fired, could still smell the staticky ozone, and absently flexed her hand against the ship’s wheel.

It had felt so real.

How she had murdered her parents...

Apparently they had seen visions or dreams or something, all because of some weird alien drug, because of course it was some weird alien drug. When Bender had swindled some sweet-tasting gummies, they hadn’t realized it had been a hallucinogen until Fry was practically in a coma. Nor did they realize that Bender had stolen it from a powerful space cartel who had then captured their ship. They had escaped all that with only minor cuts and some slashed wiring that spat out sparks from time to time, but they’d deal with it later.

That didn’t concern Leela as much as what she’d seen.

The alien—in between yelling at them and threatening them with a flesh-eating slime (trademark pending)—had said something about the drug’s effects, how it took a moment from their past and… something or other. Her translation wasn’t the best, but she got the jist of it. Whatever it was, it wasn’t real, and that’s what mattered. Leela didn’t need to know all the details, she just needed to know how to fly the ship.

Which she was doing.

Well enough.

“I think we’ve still got an asteroid lodged under the wing-thingie,” Fry said, his face pressed against the glass on the far side.

Leela jerked the wheel sharply right, throwing the ship sideways, rocking it back and forth before she felt something shift, the wheel shuddering under her hands. She leveled out again to the sound of creaking and loud groans from everyone not belted in—everyone being Fry and Bender, which was plenty enough.

“Better?”

“Uhh…” Fry drunkenly stumbled over and smushed his face against the glass again. “Yep. All clear!”

“Good.” Leela didn’t look over as Fry slumped into the copilot’s seat beside her. “I just want to get back and pretend this never happened.” She paused. “Except on the incident report.”

“Yeah, I feel ya,” Fry said, pinching his eyes in a way that couldn’t be good for his optical nerves. “Man, I’ve got such a headache from that stupid thing. That was worse than the time I ate a tray of pot brownies in high school.”

Leela gave him a quick glance over. Fry certainly looked tired, but overall fine. Except for some scratches, that is, but he deserved at least half of them.

It wasn’t surprising he had been affected more: Fry had been under the drug’s influence for almost an hour, while she had—thankfully—only seemed to last a few minutes before fighting it off. Maybe it was her own horror that snapped her out of it, when she realized she had murdered her parents in cold blood.

“So what did you meatbags see?” Bender said, stomping over and throwing himself into a chair, not pausing as he pulled out a beer bottle from his chest cavity.

Fry pressed harder between his eyes before letting go, letting his hand drop off the edge of the seat. “Ya know… stuff,” he said, frowning at the dark expanse before them, darkness interwoven with a billion stars and planets. “Just a bunch of dumb, boring stuff.”

“Same,” Leela said. Her eye itched as if she’d been crying, which she hadn’t been. It had been an illusion, that was all.

Except it had felt real, and that was the terrifying part. A tucked-away part of her was desperate to get back and check that her mom and dad were fine. But she didn’t do more than push the old ship a little harder than usual, keeping on a steady course for home.

Even so, it was several hours before they approached the familiar blue marble, with the sun at their backs and late at night—at least according to the standardized earth clock on the ship. Leela wasn’t alone as they rounded the curvature of the earth; Fry was with her, and together they watched the sun set in a blaze of orange light casting long, long shadows over the clouds.

Soon the ship settled into it’s docking port with the usual hiss and groan, before falling quiet once more, all except for the hum of the engines and soft ticking of the navigational instruments. They didn’t talk much, and it was quiet still as they plodded out the gangway with yawns and long overhead stretches, already well past midnight. Maybe in the morning she would go check on them—she was overdue for a visit, anyway.

They were fine. Of course they were.

Her fingers twitched as she remembered the warmth of the gun in her hand.

She didn’t bother going to her own apartment, but settled into one of the spare rooms of Planet Express for just such a purpose, with little more than a bed and a hamper in the corner for anything radioactive. For hours, perhaps, she lay sprawled on top of the grubby sheets and couldn’t slpee. She stared at the dark part of the ceiling, or the bar of light from the street, or the gray pulsing inside of her eyelid. Sleep wouldn’t come. Her mind wouldn’t let up that damn vision, like an awful commercial jingle that wouldn’t shut up. It so easily could have happened, that was the worst part. The difference was only a fraction of time. If she had fired five second earlier, a couple seconds earlier… if Fry hadn’t crashed through the ceiling and distracted her…

She could still picture it, standing in that dark, foul room, both hands holding her gun steady as it clicked, clicked, clicked, charging. Her parents, hooded and bowed, standing before her, waiting for their execution at the hands of their own daughter.

I’ll kill you!

She had meant it.

That… would be best.

They had meant that, too.

Again, the gun fired. The bodies crumbled with hardly a sound, just a heavy fall against the hard floor.

This time, there was blood.

Leela jerked up, gasping and staring about the room. With a shaking hand she brushed her cheek, slightly damp. She held it to the little light coming in from the window, and it wasn’t blood.

For some moments she pressed her head tight between her hands, shutting her eye and forcing herself to breathe. But it couldn’t get rid of the afterimage burned into the back of her eyelid. She could still feel the blood as it hit her face, warm and coppery against her lips.

“Dammit,” she muttered, swinging her feet off the bed and throwing on her boots.

Sleep wasn’t happening that night.

By force of habit she slipped on the metal cuff as she headed out, and then paused. She snapped it open again, exposing her forearm, and watched the little metal bracelet shift, the same one she had worn since she was a baby, identical to her mother’s. She snapped the cuff closed again and rubbed her face, hard.

Maybe she should go check on them. Just a casual, totally normal visit at… she squinted at the bedside clock. 1:42 in the morning. Hm. Or maybe she should be rational and wait until morning. She could even bring coffee and donuts. They’d like that.

Still, she wasn’t going to sleep that night. With every intention of slipping out unnoticed, she walked into the rec room of Planet Express to see Fry and Bender shouting at the TV, which seemed to be shouting right back.

“And Slammerbot slams right onto The Underslammer, what a move! What’s this? The Underslammer saw it coming?! And he’s back on his feet—“

“You two are up late,” Leela said, making Fry shriek in surprise.

“Only for your dumb human biology,” Bender said, tossing an empty beer bottle on the floor and missing the trash by a body’s length. Leela watched it roll and tap against the table.

“I thought you’d be back at your apartment by now,” Leela said, leaning against the wall, crossing her arms and trying not to yawn.

“Eh, too far,” Fry said, tilting his head back all the way to better see her. “Surprised you’re here.” Then he looked around the little room, the bright lights the same whether day or night. “Man, what time is it?”

“Late,” Leela said simply, before her voice was drowned out by the TV crowds screaming, and Bender screaming as he jumped to his feet, swearing like he’d taken up a job as a personal manager with the most insulting, unhelpful encouragement imaginable. Fry had also jumped to his feet on impulse, but was too confused to do more than give a half-hearted yell and squint at the screen.

Leela looked between the television and the screaming idiots, and pursed her lips. A distraction might be nice, but this wasn’t it. Leaving them to it, she headed out towards the side-door, the hall light slowly flickering on around her as she made her way. Almost immediately the early thoughts and images resurfaced, leaving her cold and jittery. Maybe underground robot wrestling would be better than being alone.

“Hey, Leela?” She turned to see Fry had followed her. It was much quieter once the door shuttered behind him. “You okay?”

“Yeah. Just couldn’t sleep.”

“Uh huh,” Fry said, nodding. “Cause of earlier? That dumb alien thing?”

The night was unremarkably nice, the streets deserted and most of the shop lights dimmed or off. Leela shoved her hands in her pockets against the chill, glad to have at least remembered her jacket. Fry kicked at bits of trash, and pointed out a scurrying rat on the opposite street. It was hard to see, but it seemed to have an extra eye and faintly glowed. Likely from the sewers

Like her parents.

Leela shrunk into her jacket collar and shoved her hands deeper, balling them into fists.

“I think I’m going to go see my parents,” she said suddenly.

“Yeah?” Fry said, and then looked up at the dark sky. “What, like now?”

“Maybe.”

Fry made a little sound like a shrug and then fell quiet, oddly so.

The late hours of night affected people differently, and it didn’t always fall to moderation. Some nights, Leela would stay up with the others, drinking and talking and laughing over the dumbest, un-funniest shit. Once they had played truth or dare like teenagers, knocking back shots and smashing beer cans, talking about sexual mishaps and drug-induced disasters. Those nights were good, and they inevitably happened in those late, late hours when they were drunk on exhaustion as much as booze.

Other nights? They might fall like this: quiet and dark, when one could speak of things they couldn’t say in daylight. A time for murmured secrets and soft-shelled vulnerability.

“I saw my parents earlier, actually,” Fry said, frowning and kicking a soda can. It clattered a few feet ahead, and he kicked it again. “Dumb alien drugs.”

Whichever way the night fell, it seemed as arbitrary as the toss of a coin.

“I don’t get exactly what happened to us, but I know what I... it was…” He made a tangled noise in his throat and shrugged, looking and sounding younger than usual. That alone shouldn’t have been so strange, since he was often childish and immature, but this was different. “I don’t know.”

“What happened?”

“I was back home,” he said, his face pinching tight. Home. To him, it meant the year 2000, in the city of Old New York before it became Old. There was something melancholy about him calling that place home. “Everything was the same but instead of staying in the lab when I realized the pizza order was a prank, I left. I went home.” He looked up, seeing the world of his future, and perhaps seeing well beyond it. “Like none of this would ever happen.”

“Oh.”

Leela considered that, following his gaze upwards, unseeing.

A flip of the coin, was that it? A glimpse down a path not taken?

“Yeah. I showed up at my house and they were all celebrating without me. Like they didn’t notice I was gone.” He pulled his chin lower to his chest, frowning. “It was like they’d already forgotten me. I guess... why wouldn’t they. I was just the screw up.”

Leela stared at him as they walked, her own chest feeling tight and strange.

Fry continued in a lower voice, talking as if it might be his only chance to say these words. Almost desperate. “You know, after I got here, I’d sometimes wonder how long it took anyone to notice that I was gone. If they ever did notice. Or, like, if they ever cared.”

“Fry…”

He gave a shaky grin at the sound of her voice, his look painfully, falsely optimistic. “Yeah, that’s dumb. I bet they missed me. I mean, I was their son. Yancy was my brother. They probably did. Eventually. But just… that dumb alien drug made me realize… I think I was alone even before I lost everyone. Now they’re gone, and they’re all dead and I’m not and it’s…” He trailed off, brows pinched. There didn’t seem to be a word for whatever he was feeling.

Leela reached over and hooked her arm around Fry’s shoulders, pulling him close and not losing step.

Fry gave a nervous laugh and tried to pull away, several times almost saying something but the words stuttered and started and lead nowhere. Then he stopped trying, his shoulders tightened and then fell and he moved closer, wrapping an arm around her waist and grabbing a fistful of her jacket. He bowed his head, and she kept them steady, their footsteps keeping time when nothing else seemed to.

“Your family missed you,” Leela said. “You know they did.”

“Yeah.” He leaned in closer, his fist pulling harder. His voice was almost steady. “Yeah. I know.”

Fry had always been childish, it was one of the most annoying, frustrating parts about him. This was childish too, but Leela didn’t mind it. It was a different kind than his usual idiocy. Instead, this was the thoughts and fears of a child that lingered on and on, always in the back on one’s mind, the kind that would seem to vanish with maturity and then snap up and make one feel young and stupid and desperate to be loved.

Leela had a bit of that child in her, too.

Linked tight, they walked on through the half-lit world, a wash of gray metal and concrete in patches of light and shadow. In theory, time moved forward, and the stars continued to move overhead, but it felt as much an illusion as any other, like they were the only ones alive and awake on the entire earth.

A taxi zoomed by ahead of them, breaking that thought and leaving an afterglow of headlights, but then it was gone and the silence and stillness returned. Leela thought she wouldn’t mind if time did stop, just for a little while.

They came to the edge of a park, ignoring the hooker bots and avoiding the designated drug spot, lit in ugly, flickering neon like an enticing bug zapper. There was a quiet edge along the grass with cold metal benches that they leaned against, slick from the early morning dew and a thin mist that swept past in tendrils. Once, Leela swiped her palm against her forehead, brushing back her damp bangs and imagined smearing blood. When she pulled away her hand was clean, if sweaty, and she rubbed it against the corner of her jacket.

It was an ugly reminder of her own nightmares, and a reminder that Fry had been part of them. It was his reaction that had helped break what power the drug had on her. The sight of his horrified face when he saw what she had done, how he had staggered and stuttered, knowing he was too late.

Don’t do it, Leela! You can’t… you … oh my god… Leela, what did you do?

“I never did thank you for before,” Leela said, making Fry perk up and make a little noise like a confused dog. “For what you did for me back when you stopped me from... when I almost killed my parents.”

“Oh.” He went quiet for a moment, pondering that. “Is that what you dreamed about? That dumb drug thing?”

She shrugged, rolling her ankle on the ground and not looking up. “Back then, if it hadn’t been for you…”

It damn well terrified her, how easily it could have all gone wrong.

“I don’t think you would have fired, if it helps any,” Fry said, with more confidence in her than she had herself.

It had felt so easy to pull the trigger, so Leela wasn’t too sure about that, but it was comforting regardless. Maybe he had a point. They had been unarmed. Even with how angry she was, would she really have murdered two people in cold blood?

“Maybe,” she muttered. She felt slightly drunk. Or perhaps it was merely exhaustion. She wished she was drunk, it’d at least give her an excuse.

“It’s still weird, you know? Having them,” she said, waving a hand towards nothing. “Having real, actual parents. After all my life thinking I was an orphan, or an alien, and now they’re just there.” She scraped her foot against the concrete, a flash of anger she couldn’t direct. “They’ve always been there , and it’s so—“

She stopped, overwhelmed and stupidly emotional and unsure. Night did that, sometimes. It made things go all stupid and reflective.

Before she could give voice to those thoughts, Fry knocked his shoulder into hers, almost shoving her off the slippery benchback. “Hey.” He grinned. “Whatever happened, I’m glad you found your parents.”

She closed her eye and focused on that. It sounded so nice. She had found them, and things had turned out well, hadn’t they? Amazing, actually. Her parents were alive and they loved her, and wanted her. She had found her parents.

“Yeah,” she said, her emotions tangling. “Me too.”

I’m sorry you lost yours, she thought, taking his hand. It was warm and stiff from being held in a fist, and gooey with sweat.

They were sweaty, tired, lonely messes, the both of them, on opposite ends of a shitty pendulum.

For a time after they were quiet, staring up at the dark sky, a deep black not yet tinged with the gray of pre-dawn. Then, together, they walked back to the Planet Express, stopping in the middle of the empty road at the maintenance hole just outside it, her usual entrance. Fry opened it, pulling it back before reaching out a hand with a smile. With gentlemanly grace he handed her down into the sewers.

Just before she was almost fully under, Leela paused, her hand stilling on the cold metal rung. Looking up, Fry’s orange hair was outlined by the glow of neon lights. He had saved her, and that time it had gone right. Tomorrow he’d almost certainly be back to his usual idiot self, but this had been a good night. She’d remember it.

“Thanks, Fry.”

“Good night, Leela.”

He waited, watching her until she was a good way down before closing the heavy circular lid above her. It took a moment for her eyes to settle, but it was actually easier to see underground, the toxic lake casting everything in a green, radioactive glow that made descending the metal ladder easier, and then the woven rope ladder after that.

Even though the world wasn’t tied to the rising and falling of the sun, it still had that chilled, calm air of night. Leela knocked against the rotting door jamb, and listened as the muffled voices came closer before the door creaked open a moment.

“Leela!” her mother cried, opening it wide, her father right over her shoulder. “It’s so late. What are you doing here?”

“Are you in trouble?” her father asked worriedly, stepping out and looking up and down the dark, deserted pathway.

“No, I’m fine.” Leela rubbed her arm. This was starting to seem foolish. “I, uh, just… wanted to see you. That’s all.”

“Oh.” Her mom blinked at her. “That’s… sweet of you. But you’re sure you’re okay?”

“Maybe all our clocks are just broken,” her dad said, squinting across the room. “I thought it was after 3am.”

“It is,” Leela said, rocking back on her heels a bit. The idea had been to come and talk with them, but that was seeming too much at the moment. Exhaustion was catching up quick, it was late, and her thoughts and feelings were still jumbled.

“Can I stay here for the night?”

Her parents shared a look, speaking with their eyebrows more than anything. Was it worry? Embarrassment?

“Here? Are you sure? You’d be more comfortable in your own place,” her mom said, gesturing a tentacle vaguely upwards, to the surface. Where Leela didn’t belong and yet she did now, because of her parents’ sacrifice.

“And it’d be cleaner,” her dad added.

“I don’t care,” she said in a stronger voice. “I’ll sleep on the floor if I have to.”

Luckily she didn’t have to sleep on the floor. Her parents easily conceded—it seemed there was nothing they would say no to—and set about finding extra sheets and pillows, leading her to a couch against the wall. It was new, they said, torn somewhere between pride and shame.

It was new to them, anyway. The faux leather was shiny from overuse in parts, claw marks showed the off-white insides, and it reeked of dog, but it was better than the floor.

“Are you sure you’ll be all right,” her mom asked, fussing over her and adjusting the threadbare pillow under her head, shoved up against the armrest and also reeking of dog. Leela was only half sure they didn’t actually have a dog.

“I’m fine. This is… nice.” Leela kept the old blanket tucked under her arm, gripping it in both hands, feeling slightly delirious. It was so far from nice, and a far cry from her own clean, comfortable bedroom, but the anxiety curdling in her gut had turned down to a manageable simmer. She pressed her socked foot against the far armrest, faintly testing, and then let it hang over the too-short couch and breathed in the smell of wet dog and sewage. “Yeah. I’m good.”

“If you need anything, we’ll be just in the next room. You come get us for anything,” her dad said, touching her shoulder. There was a moment’s hesitation as her mom and dad looked at each other before slowly stepping away. This was new to all of them.

“Well… good night,” her mom said, lingering as they both moved towards their own bedroom, keeping her eyes on Leela before leaving with another shared glance.

That pulled at something, and it cried out in Leela’s chest, and surged up her throat and escaped past her lips.

“Wait!” she said, sitting up.

Her parents looked back, but she couldn’t even pull forth the words. She didn’t even know what she wanted to say, or what she wanted, except that she wanted them. Her parents who gave her up for a better life, who would sacrifice everything—their own lives—for her happiness. She loved them, and yet the words stuck.

It was too much to think about, or talk about, but her parents understood anyway. Smiling, they returned.

“Good night, Leela,” her mom whispered, kissing her cheek.

“We love you,” her dad said, also bending and kissing her as well.

“I love you, too,” she said softly, like a breath held too long.

Her dad stroked her hair, and it felt oddly familiar though she couldn’t recall anyone ever doing it to her. It was nice. “You’d best get some sleep,” he said. “We’ll talk more in the morning if you like.”

“You can tell me what your favorite breakfast is,” her mom said in a throaty voice, almost in tears and covering her face with one tentacle.

Leela watched them go, the door closed but not shut, and she took comfort at that.

It was quiet and dark, all except for a glow-in-the-dark nose her mother had placed on the little table in the corner, like a nightlight.

#Futurama #Leela #Turanga Leela #Leela's Homeworld #fanfiction #my writing #I wrote this instead of working on my other WIPs #shocked I actually finished it #this was such a powerful episode #I love her relationship with her parents and how much they love her #Fry is here too #more than I expected #it was a fun change of pace from my other stuff #writing for a dead fandom #nice

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gawayne · 5 years

Note

For those soft sentence starters: “You’ll always be safe with me.” (But maybe it’s narvin saying that to leela?). Thanks!

Whelp I actually got a good deal done on this so I stuck it up on Ao3 too. Hope you enjoy!

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

Despite all claims to the contrary, Narvin really must admit to himself that exploring this alternate world has proved rather lackluster without Romana. It isn’t, of course, that he wants her natural tendency to attract every ounce of trouble present in a fifty mile radius lurking at his back the whole time. In fact, this trip has been relatively smooth compared to their others, and he is relishing what so far has come pretty close to his idea of a vacation. But he can’t deny that with the danger of taking her along often comes interest, and opportunity, and he’s grown tired of wandering around a useless Gallifrey full of useless beings in the most miserable weather he’s seen in this lifetime.

On the other hand, camping out in a one person CIA-issue tent while the portal makes its way back is much less hazardous with two than three. Narvin doesn’t think it’s a terrible loss.

A low rumble of thunder rolls in from somewhere altogether too close for his liking. Lying wide-awake on a thin bedroll, he feels the ground tremble beneath him, and officially gives up all hope of getting any sleep. The corresponding flash of lightning illuminates Leela beside him, wrapped snugly in a blanket, curled up fast asleep with her back pressed against the wall of the tent. It’s times like this that he almost—almost—envies her comfort out in the elements, her ability to adapt to any world the portals throw at her. He might even be willing to tell her so, in the name of armistice, except for the fact that Romana has apparently been much more effective at curbing her enthusiasm than he’s ever given her credit for, and lacking such a deterrent she’s been slagging him off at every opportunity all day.

He doesn’t know what he expected.

Lightning strikes again, so close now that the sound and light arrive almost simultaneously. Narvin flinches at the deafening crack of thunder, and starts again a nanospan later when Leela jumps into a sitting position, knife in hand, looking around wildly for the source of the noise. Momentarily certain he’s about to have his throat slit, he scrambles as far away from her as he can (about two inches) and raises a handful of blanket between them.

“Pandak’s ghost, put that thing away!” he shouts, over the pattering of rain on the tent.

“Romana?” Leela’s sightless gaze fixes on him, then snaps back up to the sky. “Are we under attack?”

“It’s me,” he hisses. He softens his tone. “There’s nothing wrong, it’s just thunder. Put that away before you hurt someone.”

Adrenaline draining visibly from her body, Leela sags back onto her bedroll. After a moment’s consideration she tucks the knife back under her pillow, and huffs out a sigh.

“Don’t know how you managed to get to sleep at all,” mutters Narvin, his hearts still working at resuming their normal pace. “Tired from a long day of insulting me, are you?”

To his surprise, Leela doesn’t offer a witty comeback. Wide-eyed, she looks up as a fresh bout of lightning crackles overhead, and tugs her blanket back up around her shoulders.

“I did not mean to frighten you,” she says quietly.

Narvin blinks. “You didn’t- oh, whatever. Can’t you try just a bit harder to not stab me in the future?”

“That is unlikely,” she says, though her heart clearly isn’t in it. Her brow is creased in an expression of concentration; she worries her lip between her teeth. He watches as her head twitches towards each sudden sound, tracking their source instinctually as she would any threat, and he watches the lightning periodically throw her features into sharp relief, tension evident in the way she holds herself under the blanket. She’s afraid, he realizes, with a certain degree of alarm. Suddenly he very much wishes he wasn’t the only other person here.

Attributable no doubt to a moment of weakness brought on by his tired, cold, somewhat damp state, Narvin moves back onto his bedroll and then a bit further. “Leela?” he asks cautiously. “Are you… alright?”

This alone seems enough to break Leela’s concentration. She tilts her head, so that she would be looking right at him. Not for the first time, her sense of direction unnerves him.

“I am fine,” she replies, in a particular tone that suggests she would like to be fine, and is perhaps adjacent to fine, but hasn’t quite gotten there yet.

“It, er… it shouldn’t be much longer,” he offers. “If K9’s done everything correctly the portal will be back in a couple spans.”

“Not long to you,” she counters.

“Well… yes.”

There’s a long pause.

“I want Romana,” she murmurs. “She should be here.”

“Yes,” he says. He hesitates. “Leela…”

“I am scared, Narvin,” she says shakily, and that shuts him up. “I should not be scared. It is only a storm. It is not more dangerous just because I cannot see it, but it… it is loud, and so dark, and Romana should be here. She would…”

She trails off, and doesn’t continue. Narvin would like to think it’s completely unrelated to the fact that he’s reached out and taken her trembling hand in his, but that would be a stretch even for him.

“Romana makes you feel safe,” he says quietly. At this volume, the rain nearly drowns out both of them.

Leela nods. “I trust her,” she murmurs.

The subtext makes something tighten painfully in his chest—she doesn’t trust him, not enough—even though he knows this, and knows she shouldn’t. He’s hardly done anything to deserve it. Lately, however, trapped away from his home and life and people, Gallifrey’s fate left to the three of them, he’s found himself afflicted by the horrid desire for camaraderie. Friendship, even. And it’s surely nothing more than the shock of losing just about everything he’s ever known—but then again he’s lost just about everything he’s ever known, and now they’ve lost Brax, too, and he aches to be trusted by the two people he has left. To have it known, absolutely and irreparably, that he would do anything for them.

He shuts his eyes, so it feels just a bit more like he’s talking into the empty night. “You’re safe, Leela,” he says. “You’ll always be safe with me.”

The pause is much longer this time. Narvin tries to forget he said anything, and that Leela ever even woke up, and that he’s actually awake at all, though it doesn’t work very well. When eventually he runs out of patience and opens one eye, he’s more than a little surprised to see her smiling.

“It is very cold in here, Narvin,” she says.

He blinks, wondering if she wants him to offer her his blanket. He gets his answer when she, always one to take initiative, wriggles over to his side of the tent and works her way under the blanket with him, tossing an arm over his waist in the process.

“Oh,” says Narvin, recoiling at first but putting an arm around her in return before he quite knows what’s happening. “Oh, er…”

Leela tugs him closer, tucking her head beneath his chin and making herself at home. “Hush,” she says. “I am trying to sleep.”

It’s only later—an embarrassingly long, distracted time later—that he realizes he couldn’t possibly be a source of warmth for her. It’s not a terrible loss.

#gallifrey audios #big finish gallifrey #narvin x leela #gallifrey fic #leela #narvin #my fic #loombarrow

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generalthirstclub · 5 years

Note

cough obedience software drabbl

OOOOOO good suggestion. i mean it might not quite make sense because he has the obedience software for a limited amount of time and he's under the control of nasty nude aliens but you know what. sub bender/dom reader time now babes. also why do all my futurama fics end up being set in fry and benders apartment

It’s a really good thing Fry isn't here.

Him staying at the building late to help the professor with some stuff (along with Leela, probably the only reason he agreed to stay) and you and Bender scrambling to their apartment as soon as you could has earned the two of you a couple hours of private time.

Bender, being Bender, is usually the dominant one in intimate matters, but he’s been eager to see what kind of fun the two of you could have with this obedience software. Boy, that was a good idea.

You look down at the robot you have on Fry’s bed, laying underneath you and looking up at you with his spiraling pupils. He’s adorable like this. All yours.

You rub your hands up and down the smooth metal of his torso. You’re not quite sure exactly how Bender’s nervous system works and what all he can feel, but from the shaky sigh he lets out at this, it definitely has the reaction you were going for.

“You’re such a good boy for me, Bender,” you muse.

“I am?” he asks, the look in his eyes revealing his excited smile.

“You’re a very good boy. You’re the best robot a human could ask for. You deserve a reward, babe.”

“Ooh, ooh, can I pick?”

“Alright.”

“I wanna grind against you until you cum,” he says. “After all, all that I really wanna do is make my master feel good. And if grinding isn’t enough then I could throw in the ol’ vibratin’ fingers, I know you love those.”

You smile a bit. “Bender, you’re sure you don't want me to pleasure you?”

“Completely sure!”

“Alright then, if you really consider this a reward,” you reply. You realize you've completely broken character, and quickly get back into your dom self. “Now, be a good pet for your master.”

“Gladly!”

#lime #im usinf that tag in 2019??? end this earth

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paigenotblank · 5 years

Text

The Age of the Wolf (6/9)

Rating: Mature overall, this chapter is teen

Pairing: Eighth Doctor x Rose Tyler

Written for @doctorroseprompts and Eight x Rose August. Prompt: Dimension hopping!Rose meets Eight / What if Rose was with Eight or met Eight during the Time War?

Read it on Tumblr: Chapter 1 / Chapter 2 / Chapter 3 / Chapter 4 / Chapter 5 / Chapter 6 / Chapter 7 / Chapter 8 / Chapter 9

AO3 TSP

“I’m sorry, sir, but there’s been absolutely no sign of him.”

The Lord President turned angry eyes on the Doctor and his bondmate. “How can the Master just have disappeared without a trace?”

“The Cruciform was in chaos when the Dalek Emperor took control, maybe-”

“We were winning, how did we suddenly lose?”

“I can’t say, but the Master has always been very good at using distraction to-”

“Enough!” Rassilon narrowed his eyes at the Doctor. “The two of you have worked well enough together in recent years.”

“What are you implying?”

“I want every stone unturned until he’s found. The loss of the Cruciform is on him. I want answers. Check the Matrix. Check the Drylands. Get that little human hunter you’re friends with on it.”

“Leela has more important things to do than-”

“Recall every TARDIS that’s left Gallifrey if you have to. And while you are busy with that, have the…” Rassilon looked with disdain at Rose. “...Abomination you call wife check the fortifications over Arcadia.”

Rose bristled at the insult, but when the Doctor took a step forward, she grabbed his arm and shook her head and hissed under her breath, “Let it go, Doctor. Let’s...just go.”

“She’s a goddess. You’re not fit to breathe the same air as her.”

The Lord President laughed. “The closest the Time Lords have to a god is me. I brought Gallifrey out of the Dark Times. I gave us time travel. I molded us into the greatest society in all the multiverse. Your little human pet is only allowed here as long as she holds some usefulness. It’s lucky for you she’s so very bad at dying.” Rassilon sneered and made a gesture dismissing them.

Rose gritted her teeth and dragged the Doctor from the President’s private chamber.

He turned to her when they were alone in the corridor. “Rose, I’m sorry.”

“Not your fault the Time Lords elected giant prick as President. He doesn’t bother me.”

The Doctor raised his eyebrow.

Rose smiled. “...Much. I’m here for you, not him. Now come on, we’ve got a job to do.”

“The Master is slippery and a master of disguise. If he doesn’t want to be found-”

“Not talkin’ about lookin’ for that nutter. We should check the sky trenches and ramparts. That’s what’s keeping the people safe and is actually important.”

The Doctor pulled his wife against him and kissed her. “I love you.”

Rose sighed and rested her head on his shoulder. “I’ll never tire of hearing it.”

“Well, it’s a good thing I’ll never stop telling you.”

Rose pulled away with a sad smile and pressed a quick peck to the Doctor’s lips. “Love you too. Now let’s get going.”

“Rose!”

The Doctor ran to where his bondmate had fallen in the desert. She’d been inspecting the fortifications high over Arcadia, as commanded, when the Dalek Emperor's Flagship attacked. After being hit by an energy ricochet, she’d plummeted thousands of feet back to the ground.

When he reached her, she was unconscious and her clothing still smoldered. He fell to his knees in the sand beside her and used his jacket to extinguish any embers left burning. His hearts pounded with fear every time she was sent to do something dangerous, even knowing she couldn’t die. It didn’t matter; when something went wrong, it was torturous. They had been fighting side by side for 117 years and she’d had 37 almost deaths. Each time he worried that this time it would be different, that this time she wouldn’t come back to him.

“Wake up, sweetheart. Please.”

Her body took on a golden glow and her burns and injuries quickly healed themselves. Her eyes opened and her oxygen starved lungs gasped for air.

“Doctor!”

He bent over her prone body and hugged her close. “My darling Rose, I love you, but you scare me every time you do that.”

“Better me than you.”

“Don’t say that, love. If I could save you one moment of pain, I would.”

“How are you going to give me forever if you’re the one dyin’ all the time? Let me do this for us.” Rose pressed her lips to his in a soft, easy kiss. She collapsed back into his arms with the need to breathe. “We have to go...the Sky Trenches aren’t going to hold much longer.”

He looked down at her and shook his head. “I’ve sent word to the General at High Command, but before we go back we need to find you some new clothes.” She glanced down. Hers were burned nearly from her body.

The Doctor carried her through the Drylands toward a small settlement in the hopes that someone remained or at the very least had left some supplies behind after fleeing. He slowed as he approached a wooden homestead that, like the rest of Gallifrey, had seen better days. He awkwardly shifted her in his arms so that he’d be able to knock.

“Put me down, I can stand.”

They stood side by side, as the door was answered by an old woman. Her hand went to her mouth. “M-my Lord Doctor and Lady Moment.”

The old woman stooped to bow, when Rose gently stopped her. “None of that now. It’s just the Doctor and Rose.”

“Might we come in?”

“Oh! Of course, please.” The woman stepped back and waved them entry.

The woman walked over to her fireplace and prepared two bowls of porridge. She brought them to the table for her guests. “I’m sorry I can’t offer more.”

The Doctor and Rose sat on a worn bench.

“You are most kind, madam.”

Rose raised the spoon to her lips. “It’s delicious. Best we’ve had in months.”

“I hate to ask for anything more, but if you have anything to spare...Rose could use something to wear.”

The woman jumped up from her seat and went over to a large trunk. “My daughter left these behind when she and her husband enlisted in the war.” She removed a selection of women’s clothing.

Rose walked over and smiled gratefully at the older woman. “Thank you.”

Rose changed from the tattered remains of her uniform, into a long skirt, leggings, jumper, and a sleeveless jacket. She removed her mother-in-law’s charm from where she kept it around her wrist, and used it to tie off a small plait. Biting her thumb, she returned to the Doctor. His eyes sparkled in admiration and he gave her a chaste kiss. “You look lovely.”

Rose rested her head on the Doctor’s shoulder and cuddled into his side. “Doctor, I think it’s time we went back to the Capitol for the-”

“No. That’s...that’s our last option. We...it’s...not yet.”

Rose reached for the Doctor’s hand and squeezed. “It’s getting close, Doctor, an’ I’m not saying it’s time to use it, but I think it’s safer for everyone involved if we have it with us. They’re...well I think Rassilon is getting suspicious, even more than usual, which is never good. And with the Dalek’s recent attack, he’ll be desperate. Not a great combination. Who knows how much longer we’ll even have access to the Vaults?”

The Doctor hugged her closer, and rested his cheek on the top of her head.

The Gallifrey High Command was in the War Room plotting changes to their current strategy. The General studied a hologram of the Dalek ships hovering above a map of the planet. His lieutenant, Androgar, entered the room with a report. “The High Council is in an emergency session. They have plans of their own.”

“To hell with the High Council. Their plans have already failed. Gallifrey's still in the line of fire. The Time Lock will buy us only a little more time.”

“As you can see, sir, all Dalek fleets surrounding the planet are now converging on the Capitol. Thankfully the Sky Trenches are still holding.”

“For how much longer? We’ve had word from the Renegade and the Abomination-”

“Sir!”

“What? She’s no more a goddess than I am, no matter what the common people believe. She doesn’t deserve the title Lady.”

“She’s been instrumental in our defense, surely she deserves a measure of respect.”

The General shook his head and muttered to himself, “The Doctor’s bloody humans. First I had to deal with Leela for years, and then this one.” He turned back to Androgar. “Regardless, they sent word that the Trenches are weakened after that last flurry of attacks from the Dalek Flagship.”

“But almost nothing in the universe can get through a Sky Trench...nothing in history’s ever gotten through. And there are 400 that protect the sky above Arcadia!” There was a large blast from outside and the building shook. The General’s underlings looked around nervously. “This is their biggest attack yet. They're throwing everything at us. Does the Lady Moment really think-”

A Time Lady burst into the meeting. “Sir, there’s been a security breach to the Time Vaults.”

A map of the area being discussed was loaded onto the security screen. A red dot could be seen moving along the corridors.

“The Omega Arsenal, where all the forbidden weapons are locked away.”

Androgar looked confused. “They're not forbidden any longer. We've used them all against the Daleks.”

The General clenched his jaw. “No. No we haven’t.”

Arcadia was in flames. The dead and injured lined the streets. Battle droids and Dalek fighters flew through the air firing lasers and energy blasts. Buildings were crumbling and civilians were fleeing, no longer safe in the “safest place on Gallifrey.” Time Lords and Gallifreyan Soldiers were fighting side by side, doing what little they could to protect their people from the overwhelming waves of enemy combatants that had descended upon them seemingly in no time at all. Children were crying in the street, separated from fleeing parents, as chaos reigned.

Daleks swept through the streets shouting, “Exterminate! Exterminate! Exterminate!”

Rose and the Doctor walked slowly through the rubble, sadness weighing heavily upon them. Rose spied a small girl about to walk into the path of a formation of Daleks. She ran behind a toppled wall and grabbed the girl, covering her mouth so that she wouldn’t give away their location. “It’s okay, sweetheart. But I need you to be quiet.” The girl’s frantic mother fell to her knees before Rose in gratitude. “My Lady Moment, thank you! Thank you!”

“It’s okay. Now hurry. Get as far away from here as you can.” The little girl gave Rose a kiss on her cheek and hugged her before taking up her mother’s hand.

The family hastened down an alley, as a missile exploded into the side of a nearby building. They disappeared under the weight of the falling stones. When Rose turned around aghast, the Doctor was there waiting. He opened his arms and Rose held onto him tightly, crying silently against his neck.

“Oh, Doctor! I can’t...I can’t do this anymore.”

The Doctor looked down into Rose’s tear stained face, and nodded. “It’s time.”

They walked hand in hand back toward the Citadel. They passed a soldier screaming into his wrist-com. “Message for the High Council. Priority Omega. Arcadia has fallen. I repeat, Arcadia has fallen!” When the man had completed his task, he closed his eyes and leaned back against a wall. He locked eyes with them and his fear and dejection were palpable.

Rose and the Doctor nodded their respects, and while the weight of what they were about to do slowed their steps, they trudged onward, the calm in the storm raging around them.

The General was followed by several of his aides into the Time Vault. He walked directly to an empty podium and slammed his fist into his palm.

“That mad fool! The Eye of Discord is gone.”

“I don't understand. What’s the Eye of Discord? I've never heard of it.”

The General turned to Androgar. “The Galaxy Eater. The final work of the ancients of Gallifrey. The scientist, Roppen, made a weapon so powerful it is to only be used when all other hope is lost. It’s said he fitted the core with sentience and a conscience, so that the user must not only face their choice but argue on behalf of it. Because not only does it destroy all traces of an enemy, it destroys all traces that the enemy had ever existed including everyone who had ever even heard of them. At full power it’s capable of destroying every living thing in the universe.”

“Rassilon’s Rod! No wonder it’s never been used.”

“How do you use a weapon of ultimate mass destruction when it can stand in judgment on you? There is only one man who would even dare.”

There was a soft knock on the door to the Doctor and Rose’s private chambers within the Capitol. Rose was packing up the meager supplies that they kept there, and so the Doctor walked over to answer it.

At the sight of his best and oldest friends, he moved out of the way and bid them entrance. “Romana. Leela. Andred.” He greeted them each with clasped hands.

“Hello, Doctor. Rose.”

“Hello.” Rose walked up to the group and frowned. “I thought Brax was supposed to join us?”

Romana ran a hand through her hair. “I’m afraid he’s been taken in for questioning regarding the Vault. Your mother’s gone to plead his case.”

Rose turned to the Doctor. “We’ve got to help them.”

Andred shook his head. “No, you’ve got to do this.” He took the sack his wife was holding and handed it to the Doctor. “We’ll do what we can for your brother, but in the end it won’t matter. The end is coming. All that is left to be determined is how much of the universe will be going with it.”

Leela clasped her hand in Andred’s. “I shall make sure Brax spends the last of his time where he belongs.” She darted a glance at Romana. “With his friends.”

The Doctor studied those surrounding him. Leela, his beloved former companion; Andred, the most loyal of friends; and Romana, a Time Lady he watched grow from an inexperienced though brilliant young woman to an accomplished and respected leader. “Leave. Leave Gallifrey. All of you. While there’s still time. Please. Let some good facet of Time Lord society survive.”

Romana took his hands between her own and smiled. Her eyes drifted to Rose before returning to her friend. “Oh, I think it will with or without us. Besides, we’re needed here. We each have our roles to play. We came to bid you goodbye and good luck.”

“No.” Rose teared up at the anguish in the Doctor’s voice.

Leela stepped forward to give the Doctor a hug and whispered in his ear. “You must leave now, while you still have the chance. Rassilon’s snares grow ever tighter.”

Andred clapped the Doctor on the back. “Doctor, it has been an honor knowing and serving with you.”

“And you, my friend.”

The Doctor turned to face Romana. She stood tall and proud. “Romana.”

She arched one delicate brow. “Yes, my Lord Doctor?”

He grinned. “Take care of that rapscallion brother of mine, would you? With whatever time you have left.”

Her eyes went wide and she blushed hotly. “I...what? I mean...I don’t know what you’re referring to.”

“No, of course not.” He kissed her on the cheek and grabbed Rose’s hand. “Well, my dear, sounds like we’ve got an important mission.”

She waved at the friends she had made during her life on Gallifrey. “Goodbye, all of you. I’m so glad I had the opportunity to know you.”

Leela smiled. “You are a true warrior, my Lady. And it was an honor to fight by your side.”

“That’s high praise indeed coming from you, Leela.”

Romana snorted. “I just can’t believe I lived to see the day that the Doctor voluntarily settled down.”

“Oi!”

“Who are you fooling, love? When we first met all you did was grouse about domestics.”

“Did I? Must have been because I didn’t think I could handle them without you by my side. Better with two, eh?”

Rose blushed. “Yeah. Better with two.” She laced their fingers together, and nodded her final goodbyes to their friends.

They closed the door behind them and then immediately opened it at another knock.

Rose gasped to see the Doctor’s son and daughter standing there.

“Hello, my Lady Moment, may we come in?”

“Sure. Of course.” She stepped back and bid them entry. “And please, I’ve asked you to call me ‘Rose.’”

They bowed to her and nodded to their father. “Doctor.”

“What are you doing here? Not that I mind, but you’ve both made it clear that you didn’t wish to have an association with me...us.” He gestured between himself and Rose.

The Doctor’s daughter looked nervously at her brother. “We may have been hasty in our estimation of you.”

“This War has gone on far too long and done irreparable damage to the universe. The High Council and our Lord President Rassilon are no longer acting in the best interests of Gallifrey. We see that now.”

Rose snorted. “The Citadel is literally crumbling around us, is that all it took?” The Doctor shot her a look.

His daughter blushed. “I’m sorry that we allowed our biases to prevent a deeper relationship to develop between us. It will be something that I regret for-”

“No. No regrets. You’ve come now and that is something I will treasure always.” The Doctor embraced his daughter who stood stiffly in his arms. He pulled back and kissed her crown. “Thank you.”

She nodded and gave him a small smile.

His son cleared his throat. “We came to warn you that the third prophecy has been found, and, er, well...we’ve also come to wish you luck.”

“Luck? What’s the prophecy?”

“‘The Last Son of Gallifrey will be the one to bring about the moment,” his eyes flicked to Rose, “that ends the Time War.’”

Rose paled as her hand went to her mouth. “The Last of the…”

The Doctor darted a glance at her. “The Moment. It says that exactly? And Rassilon is aware of this?”

His daughter nodded. “He was just informed.”

“We’ve got to go now, Rose. Right now.”

She was already moving toward the TARDIS in the corner of the room.

“Thank you. I’m sorry I wasn’t a better father to you, but-”

His daughter raised her hand. “No. No regrets is what you said. Please. Go and save what’s left of the universe.”

“Be what you’ve always been - the Doctor.”

“Please, both of you, run. Take your families and get as far from here as you can.”

The siblings shared a look. “Rassilon will send people to look for you here first, we can buy you some time.”

“Please-”

“We’re not like you, Gallifrey is our home. Save something of it in our memory and don’t diminish our sacrifice.”

“Never.”

“Now go.”

The Doctor paused and took one last look at his children, perhaps they were more like him than he’d ever given them credit for, before turning and following Rose into the TARDIS.

Lord President Rassilon, flanked by two members of the Chancellery Guard, strode briskly through the halls of the Citadel to his private Council chamber. He sat down at the head of the table with the other members of his Inner Council.

“Is there any word of the Doctor?”

The Lord Chancellor paused before stating, “Disappeared, my Lord President.”

The Lady Partisan informed him, “But we know his intention. He took possession of the Eye of Discord, it’s likely he'll use it to destroy Daleks and Time Lords alike.”

The Lord Chancellor inclined his head and picked up a scroll. “The Visionary confirms it.”

The Visionary, an old, weathered woman covered in tattoos, sat opposite the Lord President and furiously scratched quill to paper. “Ending, burning, falling. All of it falling. The black and pitch and screaming fire, so burning.”

“All of her prophecies say the same. That this is the last day of the Time War. That Gallifrey falls. That we die, today.”

“Ending. Ending. Ending. Ending!” The old woman screeched with fervor.

The Lady Partisan took a deep breath. “Perhaps it's time. This is only the furthest edge of the Time War. But at its heart, millions die every second, lost in bloodlust and insanity. With time itself resurrecting them, to find new ways of dying over and over again. A travesty of life. Isn't it better to end it, at last?”

The Lord President sneered, “Thank you for your opinion.” He stood and aimed his gauntlet covered fist at her. The whole thing pulsed with blue light and an energy beam shot forth. She screamed before being reduced to ash and atoms. He yelled at the rest of the Inner Council, “I will not die! Do you hear me? A billion years of Time Lord history riding on our backs. I will not let this perish. I will not!”

The Lord Chancellor stood nervously. “There is, er, there is one part of the prophecy, my Lord.” He unfurled a scroll and brought it to Rassilon’s side. “Forgive me, I'm sorry. It's rather difficult to decipher, but it talks of survivors, two, beyond the Final Day. And also a mention of two children of Gallifrey.”

“Does it name them?”

“Not as such. But it does foresee them locked in a final confrontation, ‘The Enmity of Ages,’ which would suggest…”

Rassilon’s eyes lit with recognition. “The Doctor and the Master.”

The Chancellor pointed to a section of the parchment. “One word keeps being repeated, my Lord. One constant word. Earth.”

The Visionary cackled, “Earth. Earth. Earth. Earth. Earth. Earth.”

The Chancellor pulled up a holographic projection of the Earth. “Planet Earth. Indigenous higher species, the human race.”

“Earth. Earth. Earth.”

Rassilon examined the primitive planet. “I don't know what the Doctor sees in it, but maybe that’s where the answer lies. Just think, our salvation. On Earth. There is a certain justice in that. The Doctor plots to take Gallifrey, but the Master will give us the Earth.”

The Visionary tapped her finger against the table in a rhythm of four.

Rassilon looked sharply at her. “A rhythm of four. The heartbeat of a Time Lord.”

“History says the Master heard such a rhythm when he looked into the Untempered Schism during his Awakening. A torment that stayed with him for the entirety of his life.”

“A drumbeat. A warrior's march.”

“A symptom of insanity, my Lord.”

“A solution to this madness. Send the signal.”

The Chancellor opened a small rupture in time. “Four beats transmitted back through time, and implanted in the Master's mind as a child.”

“Perfect, then we have a link to where the Master is right now. His disappearance was ordained.”

“But we're still trapped inside the Time Lock, sir. The link is nothing more than a thought, an idea.”

“Then we need something to make the contact physical. Something simple.”

The Visionary chanted, “So small and shining. Shining bright and cold. The tiny, tiny star, falling, falling, burning, burning, burning.”

Rassilon looked down to his staff and removed a diamond from the tip. He rolled it between his fingers and smiled. “Small enough to follow the link. And if this were on Earth, at the same time as the Master…” He took the diamond and threw it at the projection of the Earth.

The Doctor and Rose walked for miles through the heat of the double suns. They crossed rust colored sand dunes and barren lake beds, heading for the Doctor’s childhood home. The only sound was the rise and fall of their footsteps. The Doctor had the sack containing the Eye of Discord slung over his shoulder. Every once in awhile Rose would offer to take his burden, but each time he’d solemnly shake his head. They were both lost in thought, when suddenly Rose asked, “Why did we park so far away? You didn’t want her to see?”

“Want who to see?”

“The TARDIS. We’ve been walking for ages.”

“It’s given me time to think, plus I didn’t want to make it easy for the Time Lords to find us.”

Rose captured his hand in hers. “But they know my energy signature well enough. Shouldn’t be too hard to track us down...unless, you’re not planning on doing something stupid are you?”

He laughed bitterly. “Worse than destroying my own people?”

“You know what I mean...I’m not leaving you. Not when we’ve made it this far together.”

The Doctor sighed. “No. Right or wrong, I won’t send you away, don’t think I’d be strong enough to do this on my own.” His fingers played with the band of Rose’s wedding ring. “The Time Lords shouldn’t be able to find you. Your wedding band is a bio-damper. It hides you from them.”

“The wedding band you gave me on our 80th anniversary? The wedding band I’ve been wearing for nearly four decades?”

“Erm, yes...”

She lightly slapped his arm. “An’ you never said? Over a century in, and you still manage to surprise me.”

He gave her a small flirty grin and an overly dramatic kiss on the cheek.

They walked in silence for several more minutes, before Rose asked, “Thinkin’ ‘bout what?”

“Hmm?”

“You said you needed time to think. ‘Bout what?”

He let out a deep breath. “Ways to avoid what we’ve got to do.”

“Doctor…”

“I don’t think I can do this, Rose. I...I know Rassilon and the High Council are planning something unspeakable. There’re rumors he’s considering the Ultimate Sanction, but I can’t...when I think of all the innocent people...all the children...how can I?”

“If there was any other way...”

“I can’t believe that this is the only way. There has to be another. I just need more time to think. To find it.” He stopped suddenly, dropping the sack, and turned to Rose. “Rose, you have to tell me what you know.”

“What’re you talkin’ about?”

“From the future, what did I tell you about how the War ends?”

“Doctor! You know I can’t.”

The Doctor gripped Rose’s upper arms. “Rose, please.” Rose bit her lip hard to keep from breaking down and cupped the Doctor’s jaw. “I...just this once. I can make it-”

“Doctor, I can’t.” She held his gaze and begged him to understand.

He closed his eyes tight.

She whispered, “I’m sorry. I can’t tell you what you want to hear.”

“I’m so afraid I won’t do the right thing.” He laughed harshly. “I’m a coward, Rose. You married a coward.”

“You...you’re the bravest man I know. I love you. I’ve always loved you just like I will always love you.”

“I don’t deserve you.”

“Stop it. Just remember, you’re not alone. Yeah? I’m right here. You said it yourself, ‘‘S better with two.’”

The Doctor pulled her close and feathered kisses across her brow, the bridge of her nose, before finally tilting her head and kissing her deeply. Rose ran her hands through his hair. He’d let it grow out a little longer than when they first met. He knew how much she adored playing with the curls. Their foreheads rested against each other as they caught their breath. From the corner of his eye, the Doctor noticed a star shoot across the sky. “What? No!”

“What was that?”

The Doctor laced their fingers together and bent down to retrieve the bag with the Eye of Discord. “They broke through the Time Lock.”

“Who?”

“The Time Lords. If they can get out, then so could anyone else. Come on. We’ve got to go. We’re out of time.”

Rassilon stood proudly and addressed the full Time Lord Senate. “Now the High Council of Time Lords must vote. Whether we die here, today, either by the Daleks or one of our own. Or do we return to the waking world and complete the Ultimate Sanction? For this is the hour when either Gallifrey falls, or Gallifrey rises!”

The chanting of the Time Lords is almost deafening. “GALLIFREY RISES!”

Rassilon lifts his staff and leads the call. “Gallifrey rises! For Gallifrey.”

“FOR GALLIFREY!”

“For victory!”

“FOR VICTORY!”

“For the end of time itself!”

“FOR THE END OF TIME ITSELF!”

#eight x rose #doctorroseprompts #the age of the wolf #time war #doctor who #leela #andred #romana #rassilon #the general #50th re-write/fix it #eight is the war doctor

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dani-camp · 3 years

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overall review of season 1 of panic on amazon prime. i haven't read the book (though i soon plan to), so i'm not sure how much of what i love about panic is from the book or show but seeing as how lauren oliver wrote both the book and the screenplay, we can assume a good majority of it came from her and i'd like to give credit to her for that.

that being said, i think the whole concept of panic could've been so much more thematic and deeper with just a different villain. word vomit below.

THE THEMES, VILLAINS, AND ENDING

all small towns are the same. filled with secrets and scandals that everyone finds out eventually, crowded, seemingly inescapable. removed from the reality and sanity of the wider more diverse world. that's what we know from all shows set in small towns.

carp, texas is a character. any good show about small towns should recognize that that town must be a character, and when the small town comes with a deadly game, it makes sense for the town to be an ominous villain.

i wish this had been a more consistent thing throughout the show. after more than a year of lockdown, financial complications, continuous conflict between younger and older generations, upper and working classes, and politicians and constituents, it would've made sense to me for the story to align all of those villainous stories together. panic (the game), is apparently something that has gone on at least as long as all of the locals can recall. it doesn't make sense that the parents of the kids, or the cops on the force would be clueless about how the game works if they were once players and judges themselves. especially since the oldest character on the show, anne, seemed to know enough about it that she didn't even have any questions. how could this game survive in a town full of players and spectators? how is it still a mystery? there's not much keeping others' mouths closed if they're not concerned with playing and spectating privileges anymore.

personally, i would've loved if the judges-slash-villains were like the "elders" of the town a la the secret circle. i would've loved for anne to be the benevolent mastermind of the whole thing, believing in keeping the tradition alive and testing the wills of these kids before they go off into the rest of the world. she's already shown to be a risk-taker, a believer in respecting the danger and courage of things. the sheriff could still be in on it and running the numbers, which he keeps from the other judges, and keeps the cops from catching on or stopping it while playing the grieving dad for all of them. one is spurlock, who pretends to be a territorial nutcase every year while knowing the contestants are crawling all around his property and grabbing whatever innocuous trinket he's planted around. one's a teacher at the high school, who can identify which theatrical charismatic students would make good emcees, which sneaky secret-genius students could be spies for them, etc.

maybe anne and melanie cortez are friends. maybe when melanie reveals that jimmy intentionally threw the game and killed himself due to cortez' influence, anne could sick the tiger on him personally (not that i endorse the mistreatment of wild animals ofc). heather getting the money would make more sense when ray and dodge also really needed it. where the money even comes from would make sense. how the game survives would make sense. maybe that's even more cliche than the hiram lodge expy. but at least it would've been a more cohesive story.

and imo, panic (the game) and the character studies were the best parts of the show. it didn't need the drug subplots, or the gambling red herrings, or constant mystery about who was crazy, who was a liar, and who was just desperate. it could've just been a show about teenagers trying to get ahead in a world that has told them they are powerless by literally risking everything they have (their futures, their bodies, their lives, their cars, their phones). teenagers don't have a lot. and $50,000 could be life-changing and life-saving for all of them in a world the renders you financially dependent on your parents, who hit you (bishop), lock you up (ray), steal from you (heather), control you (natalie), or manipulate you (dodge) for years and years and years after you're told you're an adult only in name. and this is only highlighted by the fact that most of the kids only have one parent or guardian to begin with.

like i said in a post before, the actual villain and the actual show ending kind of just felt like they were throwing conflict after conflict on the screen, pinned it on a character that the audience already didn't like, killed him, and then gave all the characters what they wanted anyways. it felt like hiram and riverdale and how he has a hand in politics, business, drugs, local gangs, and the mafia. and also a bad father and husband. and is also willing to kill teenagers and children for the lulz. cause he had a giant boner to pay off some debts? if you say so.

if what i read in the book is correct, this ending is not remotely in the book and was probably added to the show to give a surprise to people that already read the book. or just to beef it up. i think they could've come up with something better and more original, personally.

KUDOS

i love that it's set in texas. though the southern accents come and go with much struggle, i love that they mention the rodeo and take it seriously. i love that the cops wear cowboy hats. i love that they acknowledge the nature around the setting through all the farms and animals and insects. i love that there's a lot of anxiety around pay, employment, drugs, and reputation without completely losing the charm and beauty of the surroundings. being from a small town in south carolina, it really felt so familiar.

i loved the casting for heather, she was a very natural actress even though she always had me wondering what other wavy-haired blonde actress she was reminding me of (the answers were jessica rothe, kathryn newton, or angourie rice, by the way). jessica sula always kills it, and did a good job of not playing a character that gets killed off this time. the acting and characterization for dodge was good, though we lost his mysterious-spartan-ambitious bits at times and then he was just another white boy plotting and swinging at people. moira kelly is always great, but given very little to do. shame.

i loved the writing of the relationship between heather and her mom. i thought it was on point with french and his mom on the oa. reminded me quite a bit of jlaw's character and her mom in poker house. i see from a brief summary of the book that this was not heather's first motivation for joining the game in the book and kudos to them for fixing that. it looks like they tweaked dodge's goal from killing ray to hurt luke to instead be to arrest luke, which works so much better with dodge's character imo.

i loved some of the smaller characters and details. i loved loved loved both diggins and summer and the idea that these two were handpicked just to be emcees--maybe because i was such an insufferable talkative teacher's pet/go-getter/theatre kid that i know i probably would've been tapped for it had i grown up in carp. super small detail but i love how they just casually mention that sarah is ray and luke's half-sister. maybe because i was the kid with the huge complicated family in a small town and i know everyone would often look at me and my siblings and cousins and ask others how we were related. i loved that natalie was allowed to be really nasty and still a sympathetic character. i loved troy. you really do have to be a badass to be androgynous in a small town. i loved that they showed brief glances of their home life. i loved drew and how he was still involved even though he wasn't competing.

GRIEVANCES

on the other hand, some characters were just really unnecessary. why did adam and troy ever get storylines? why were natalie's dad and christine given so much to do when a lot of it was telling us things we already knew? i'm not sure why dayna had (very much well-deserved) angst about her family's ableism when there was no follow-up to it. why were there scenes between heather's mom's abusive sort-of boyfriend and ray's older brother? why did the photographer have multiple scenes? we barely know them!! all these scraggly white men look alike!! why were leela and hunt multi-scene characters? it was so quick and irrelevant that i didn't even get the actual explanation, but bishop and natalie were judges for some reason? and sarah found the money? heather made up stories and was teased to be a writer? there was an underground drug den and a bunker under spurlock's house? abby aborted a baby? some kid pulled a gambit and died on the spurlock farm? because of the game or because of drugs? and there were several mentions that one character used to date another character in the past, that one character had this occupation or this habit, and i honestly couldn't tell you why they wasted script paper on it, much less actual production and air time. feel free to let me know if there was more plot relevance to these things that i'm just missing, cause that's entirely possible.

also... why was little bill? he was only around to freak heather out, tell us that anne's nice, and remind everybody that hey, people in small towns do drugs!!! and they die from it!! and when he and/or his body are burned alive in a house all the main characters got out of, it's mentioned a couple times and then never again. and there's already plenty of other characters whose storylines and development completely revolve around drugs and anne being nice to them. so why. honestly, i found it kind of offensive and potentially racist, but i don't think it's my place to talk on it so i'm gonna take cues from others on that matter.

next, ray. i'm just gonna say it. the casting was not good there. ray nicholson acted the role well, don't get me wrong. but he looks at least a decade older than a high school senior. it was off-putting. it made the heather x ray scenes super uncomfortable, so much so that i can't ship them even though i truly love a good girl/bad boy, enemies to lovers, belligerent sexual tension ladykiller in love type of thing. but i just couldn't like ray. he could not appear to be some kind of impulsive manchild to me when he instead came off as an overgrown bully taking advantage of barely-legal girls and bullying high-schoolers and taking their money when he should be working a full-time job as a mechanic or something. yuck yuck yuck. and even if i can see the appeal of their relationship to the narrative, not sure why heather chose him over bishop other than he wasn't going off to college (even though I figured heather was going to college since she got the money?)

the pacing was really weird. i think they were trying too hard to end every episode on a cliffhanger or something, because it absolutely butchered the tension of every scene it happened in. they constantly revealed really big things off-screen while keeping the filler fluff i mentioned above on-screen.

can we, as a society, stop making cop characters anything but vague villains who get in the way? we really didn't need to know anything about their personal lives. like, at all.

also, why did cortez call his wife "caramel" in the first scene with her? had me confused af. thinking caramel was a cat i missed or if he was shaming her for eating candy or if she was drinking caramel-flavored wine or something. what kind of pet name is caramel? what the fuck.

CONCLUSION

honestly, between panic and the wilds, i think amazon prime could really benefit from bringing on some writing consultants or test audiences to prevent this kind of incohesive and inconsistent writing from happening in the future. it seems to be continuously holding back a great story from being an epic one.

that is all to say that only something i love a lot can inspire this many thoughts about it, and now that i've finished all ten episodes and am about to start the book, i will be diving straight into the fandom, thank you.

#panic amazon #panic lb #panic

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