#To be fair it's really a writing problem and I blame none of these characters except maybe Nathalie

[miraculouslbcnreactions]

I just realize you're the only person who point out that Felix and Kagami would be just as in the wrong for hiding the truth from Adrien. Most people I know puts the blame entirely on Marinette and like yeah, I get it it's really bad she would keep something like that a secret from her boyfriend but at the same time how do you deal with that big of a burden?

If it were up to me, I'd make her deal with it the same way like in the Dragon Prince with how Rayla tries to tell Callum and Ezran about their dad being dead but idk, maybe it's not the same with Adrien so it's unfair.

I'm just irritated at people who blame Marinette just cuz she's her gf and not at the adults like Nathalie or Amelie, Marinette's a child, what about Felix and Kagami? They care about Adrien too right?

Yep, it's somehow all Marinette's fault even though Felix knew for all of season five. He knew before then, too, but at least you could argue that he was fearing for his life in previous seasons. As soon as he got the peacock? No excuse. Especially since he got the peacock by trading away Adrien's freedom. A thing he arguably didn't even need to do since I don't think anyone believes that Gabriel would have said, "No" to only getting all of the miraculous. Felix just offers up the ring without even waiting for Gabriel to ask for it. A master negotiator this boy is not.

To add even more insult to injury, season five gives Felix a subplot about informing freaking Kagami and faking her amok. A girl he literally just met gets the treatment that Felix arguably owes to Adrien after all the shit Felix has put him through. You can't even argue that Felix did it because Tomoe isn't a threat on the scale of Gabriel. She's literally a co-conspirator in season five and Felix knows that because Kagami wouldn't be a sentimonster if Tomoe wasn't involved. And Tomoe has always been written as far more hands-on than Gabriel when it comes to controlling her kid, so this isn't even a case of Felix picking the easier target. He doesn't care about easy targets or subterfuge since he, you know, kidnaps Kagami in front of her mother?

But does anyone in the fandom seem to acknowledge that? No and I really don't get it. If hate must be assigned to a character and not the writers, then Felix deserves so much more hate than Marinette.

Kagami isn't innocent either. She knew the truth for about half of the season and yet she doesn't seem to care about telling Adrien. At the same time, she's fine outing Ladybug's secret identity and fine telling Marinette everything, none of which is done in the name of justice. Kagami does it all for purely selfish reasons. To me, this was as much of a character assassination as the whole Kagami believing Lila thing even though Kagami should know the truth about Lila after the Oni-chan incident (Lila faking the kissing picture and texting it to Adrien's contacts).

Then there's Nathalie. In my opinion, Nathalie's redemption is a joke and one of the key reasons for that is how little she cares about actually saving Adrien. At no point does she tell him the truth even though she knows she's dying. She could have very easily died much sooner than the final, leaving Adrien to obey Gabriel's commands, never knowing that he was being controlled. She doesn't even try to find someone else to guard Adrien's ring. She just maintains the status quo and pretends that everything is fine while occasionally asking Gabriel to pretty please change his mind and think of Adrien? Please?

Lady, you literally pinned this man to a table at the start of the season and you are his second in command. You know all his secrets. You have access to everything. You have the power to take him down. You have the power to save Adrien. You are an awful, awful mother figure who put Gabriel's wants above Adrien's needs right up to the very end. Did you even think you had a chance to fire that cross bow or was this just another, "I'm totally helping" feel good moment to assuage your guilty conscious before you died?

And Amelie. Oh, Amelie. If you hate what Colt did to your son, then why are you idly standing by while Gabriel does the same thing to your nephew? You know that Felix has the peacock, so he's safe from being snapped. Why aren't you encouraging him to help Adrien? Or, if you want to keep protecting Felix, then why don't YOU go to Ladybug and Chat Noir and tell them that Gabriel is behind everything? Surely you have to know that Felix isn't safe as long as Gabriel has all those miraculous, right? Gabriel knows that you and your son know everything. A terrorist knows that you're a chink in his armor. Why aren't you terrified by that?

In summary: yeah, Marinette should tell Adrien. It's totally fair to be mad at her. But dear God, she should never have been put in a position where she needed to tell him because one of these four should have done it long before the end of season five! The fact that Marinette was put in this position in the first place is terrible, nonsensical, illogical writing. So go ahead and be mad at Marinette, but you sure as shit better be just as mad at the people who knew everything and did nothing, leaving a teenage girl to face it all alone while bearing the safety of the world on her shoulders.

#ml writing salt #ml writing critical #ml season 5 salt #adrien deserves better #marinette deserves better #ml fandom critical #Wow I got pretty heated there didn't I? #You can probably tell that I feel pretty passionate about this one #Marinette has many faults but at least she's actively trying to do the right thing! #Unlike these other four #To be fair it's really a writing problem and I blame none of these characters except maybe Nathalie #I really hated Nathalie in season five she was such a self-righteous hypocrite

[drabbles-mc]

Losing Sight

Horacio Carrillo x GN!Reader

Request by Anon: can please write a scenario with Horacio x reader with a a lot of angst and no happy ending. Something like Horacio is the reader’s boss.

Warnings: 18+, character death, mentions of blood/injuries, angst (with no happy ending), language, smoking

Word Count: 10.2k

A/N: Coming into my house to request angst with no happy ending was A Choice and it’s one I’m so glad you made. This was such a journey to write from start to finish, and a few parts have definitely been re-written a handful of times but I think I’m finally happy with this sad sequence of events.

Narcos Taglist: @thesandbeneathmytoes @garbinge @bruxasolta @winchestershiresauce @sizzlingcloudmentality @alm0501 @panagiasikelia @616wilsons @hauntedforsst @mirabee @buckybarneshairpullingkink @boomclapxox @nessamc @southotheborder @supersanelyromantic @padbrookcottage @mysun-n-stars @raincoffeeandfandoms @bport76 @marrianena @passionatewrites @ashlingnarcos​ (If you want to be added to any of my taglists, please let me know!)

The three of you were sat at your cluster of desks in the center of the Holguín base. While the cramped space was usually buzzing with officers and ringing phones, right now it was almost completely silent. The only noise was the staggered sound of Javier’s typewriter as he struggled to type up his reports. You and Steve were both silently scanning over files that had been brought in the night before, taking advantage of the early morning quiet that would be disrupted sooner rather than later.

The intense quiet meant that you all heard the opening and closing of the door to the base. Turning and looking over to see who walked in, none of you could really act surprised when you saw Carrillo making his way towards his office. He was always one of the first ones in, and one of the last ones out, just like you. That’s what had gotten you into this whole mess in the first place.

He kept a brisk pace as he continued towards his office, not turning to look at the three of you but still offering a professional, albeit curt, “Agents,” in greeting. No real hello, no questions about how any of you were doing. It wasn’t always that way, and while it was Horacio’s problem, you couldn’t help but to feel that you were also a bit to blame.

“Jeeze,” Steve shook his head, eyes still trained on the papers in front of him despite the slight curl of his lips that let you know he was about to provide some unwanted commentary.

You rolled your eyes, “What, Murphy?”

He flicked his gaze up to you, clearly fighting to keep a straight face and failing, “Nothin’. Just, you know, didn’t think that he could get less personable.”

You opened your mouth to fire back at him but Javier spoke up first, “Getting dumped will do that to you.”

Letting out a deep sigh, you dropped your face into your hands, “You guys done?”

“What?” the smug grin on Javier’s face was as slappable as ever, “Can’t say we’re wrong.”

You shook your head, “Carrillo has always been a bit of a dick. That’s not new. You guys are just blowing it out of proportion now because you know—”

“That you dumped him,” Steve interjected.

The two of them seemed so caught up in that piece of information—that you dumped him. To be fair, it was hard to picture Horacio being broken up with, partially because it was hard to picture him dating anyone in the first place. They’d been a little surprised, but not totally shocked, when they found out that the two of you had started seeing each other. It was evident to most people that there was some kind of energy there, chemistry at the very least even if the two of you weren’t going to do anything about it. But then you did. And everything was great until it wasn’t. Despite every logical bone in your body telling you not to get involved with someone that you worked with, especially under the circumstances that you were all forced to operate under, you forged ahead anyway. The payoff at first was great, but the aftermath was making you wonder if any of it had been worth it in the first place.

You weren’t wrong either when you said that Carrillo had always been gruff, especially on the clock, especially with Americans who were transplanted into Colombia. But the guys were right too in saying that things were definitely more tense than usual, that he was much more ready and willing to snap than he previously had been. They were right, but you didn’t want to feed into that.

Your eyes trailed over to the door of Carrillo’s office. Tapping your pencil on the surface of your desk a few times, you contemplated going and talking to him. Shaking your head at yourself, you pushed out the chair to your desk and stood up. Both men looked up at you, knowing from the look in your eyes what you were about to do, and they were caught between trying to stop you, and wanting to see just how much of a mess it would cause. They almost wanted to encourage it under the guise of saying that things couldn’t get worse, but they knew as well as anyone that things could always get worse.

“What’re you doing?” Steve asked, already knowing the answer.

You shrugged, “I’m gonna go talk to him.”

“Cold shoulder making you want him more?” Javier quipped with a laugh.

You rolled your eyes, “No. But it doesn’t need to be like this. We’re all adults here—we’re not in high school.”

“That’s exactly what you should say to him,” Javi nodded, the grin on his face growing, “He’ll fuckin’ love that.”

“Fuck off,” you huffed out a laugh as you said it, turning and walking towards Horacio’s office before you would have to endure any other comments from the peanut gallery.

Striding over, you lingered outside his closed office door for a moment, trying to muster up the courage to tell yourself that this was a smart idea, the right thing to do. You rapped your knuckles against the door and waited.

A few seconds later, you heard a faint, “Come in,” from the other side.

Taking a deep breath, you pushed the door open and allowed yourself to cross the threshold into his office. He was sat behind his desk, already immersed in intel that had been gathered over the last few days. The knit in his brows grew more intense when he looked up and realized that it was you in his doorway, not Javier or Steve. You almost chuckled at the thought that Horacio probably now preferred Steve’s company to yours. Oh, how the mighty fall.

He looked at you expectantly, fingers interlocking on the surface of his desk as he waited for you to say whatever it was that you had come to his office to say. You could tell by the look on his face, and his behavior over the last week, that he wasn’t going to be the one to initiate conversation.

“Can we talk?” you asked, still lingering just inside the doorway.

“About?”

You sighed. He asked like he didn’t know. Gently pushing his office door shut, you walked over and stood by the chair on the other side of his desk, “Me and you.”

His jaw visibly tightened, “There’s nothing to talk about, remember?”

“Horacio—”

“Stop,” he cut you off, shaking his head, “You said that whatever it was between us was finished. So it is. What’s the use in talking about it?”

Crossing your arms over your chest, you waited for him to meet your eyes, “You’re right. It is over. But there is, and will continue to be, plenty to talk about if you keep taking that fact out on everyone else around you.”

His rising anger was impossible to miss. He wasn’t one to shout, especially not at you, no matter the circumstances, but the emotion was still palpable, hanging heavy off of each word he uttered. “I don’t know what you’re—"

“Oh?” you let out a sarcastic laugh, “You don’t know what I’m talking about? That’s funny, really, because Javier and Steve sure do. And I’m not going to ask but I’ll bet if I did, your Search Bloc officers would probably say that you’ve been more of a dick than usual lately.”

Your candor and willingness to call people out on their shit was something that he had always admired about you. But now it was coming back to bite him, making him sit with a sense of discomfort he had no use for. He wasn’t a man who appreciated people holding a mirror up to him.

You were waiting for him to come back with some sort of scathing comment. But he was sitting there silently, like he was studying you and trying to figure out what the next best move was. So, you continued, “We were together, and it didn’t work. It happens,” you shook your head, “It sucks, but it happens. You need to get right with that somehow. Before this place becomes fucking inhospitable.”

His expression shifted slightly at your choice of words, “If it’s that bad, you’re free to leave at any time, Agent. Tell me and I’ll sign the papers for you.”

Your laugh was hollow, “I’m sure you would. But no. Because what we’re doing here isn’t about us. It never has been. I wasn’t expecting you of all people to lose sight of that.”

The comment stung, you could see it in the way he shifted uncomfortably in his seat, “I never lost sight of that.”

“Good,” you nodded before gesturing to the expanse outside his office, “Then start acting like it, Colonel.”

The anger in his face slowly began to fade. You knew that there was more to it than the biting comments and the apparent bitterness that he showed at work. You knew that that was probably the easiest front to put on—anger was so familiar to him. But you knew that there were more layers to it than that. There were for you, too, but you didn’t bring it to the base with you. There had been nothing easy or simple about your decision to break things off with him, but you didn’t have the luxury of feeling bad about it in the current circumstances. There were bigger problems to handle, like the problems you had been sent to Colombia to solve in the first place.

You tried to sound a little sympathetic, “My intention has never been to make things more complicated. But sometimes things just—”

“Aren’t right.”

“Yea,” you sounded more deflated than you’d meant to. Taking a deep breath, you tucked your hands into the back pockets of your jeans, “With everything going on, this isn’t the conversation that I want to keep having with you.”

He opened and closed his mouth a few times, trying to figure out what exactly it was that he wanted to say to you. You knew that you weren’t going to get an apology. He never apologized for much, but he especially wouldn’t apologize for this. You could tell that the thought almost crossed his mind, though.

He finally settled on a very flat, “Okay,” before returning his eyes to the files in front of him. Whether or not he was actually reading the words was anyone’s guess, but either way you knew that that was your cue to leave.

You nodded even though he wasn’t looking at you anymore. Walking back over to the door, you fought the urge to look back over your shoulder at him. There was no point, and you knew that, but you still wanted to. Instead, you pulled the door open and were knocked completely off your current melancholic train of thought as you came face-to-face with Officer Trujillo, who was just about to knock on the colonel’s door.

He backpedaled a small step, looking slightly frazzled, “Lo siento.”

You shook your head, forcing a small, professional smile since you couldn’t get any words out as you slipped past him. You kept walking without looking back, but you heard the way that he knocked on Carrillo’s door the same way you had not too long before. You were certain, though, that no matter how good or bad the news was that he was bringing into that office, Carrillo would prefer it to what had just transpired between the two of you.

You pretended not to notice the way that both agents were watching you as you came and sat back down at your desk. Reaching over, you grabbed one of the new tapes, your headset, and a notepad so you could start outlining the new information at your disposal. It wasn’t your favorite task, combing through all of the conversations, but right now it gave you the excuse to not talk to or listen to the men sitting with you. Later in the day, you might be up for more smart remarks about you and Carrillo, but you just needed a beat to recover. The discomfort was exhausting, and it had you almost wishing that you had never acted on any of your impulsive thoughts in the first place.

A few minutes passed by with no interruption from either Steve or Javier. You’d almost completely forgotten that they were there until a piece of paper was slid in front of you, Steve’s barely legible script standing out on the yellow legal pad.

You good?

You huffed out a quiet laugh as you wrote back a simple, I’m good, before sliding the paper back over to him and continuing to work.

You weren’t sure if it was really because of what you had said to him, but the following days, things with Horacio seemed a little less tense. It was still evident that he was in a mood, but he wasn’t as ready and willing to snap at anyone and everyone. Javier and Steve had both made little comments in passing that they weren’t quite as worried about getting their head bitten off whenever they talked to the colonel now. You had to laugh, and you were glad that things weren’t as bad for everyone else, because that was the whole point of the conversation. But you still had a feeling of unease settled in the pit of your stomach. It was your own doing, and you knew that. You didn’t regret the choice you’d made, but the persisting cold shoulder from Carrillo stung more on some days than it did others. Today was one of the days when it stung a little more.

You were one of the only ones who was still at the base. Steve and Javier had both headed out hours before, and they tried to get you to leave with them but you insisted that you just had a couple more things to wrap up, things you didn’t want to leave until morning because they’d be weighing on your mind all night.

Truthfully, you didn’t know why you felt compelled to stay. Everything that you were doing at your desk, you could easily be doing from the comfort of your own apartment. The buzzing of activity still happening at the base was comforting in its own way, though, all of the officers going about their own business. None of them ever bothered you, or really interacted with you at all unless there was something that they had to say directly to you. But they all knew who you were, they knew all of the agents that circulated in and out of Colombia over the years. They also knew that you, Steve, and Javier were the ones who had stayed the longest, and didn’t seem to be leaving anytime soon.

The building around you slowly grew more and more quiet as the officers all started to leave for the night. You didn’t know much about a lot of them, and you wondered how many of them were going home to wives, children, families.  You wondered how many of them were going home to their parents—because you couldn’t help but to notice that some of them didn’t look old enough to be living on their own. You wondered how many of them were like you, going back to empty apartments.

Soon enough it was total silence with the exception of the nightly maintenance worker making his rounds. You were getting your things all set up and ready for the following day when you heard a familiar sound coming from behind you. You fought the urge to look over your shoulder as the sound of boots across the floor got closer. You tried your best to look like you were still busy as the sound let you know that he was walking right behind your desk. You noticed a pause in his footsteps, and it stilled your motions as well.

You turned to see him standing there, a pensive look on his face as he studied you. Clearing your throat, you did your best to keep your tone even as you asked, “Something I can do for you, Colonel?”

He hesitated, but shook his head, “No. Get home safe, Agent.”

You nodded, “You too,” you watched as he lingered for another few seconds, and you wondered if he had something more to say, but he finally managed to will his feet to move and continued his exit of the building. Once he was out of earshot, you let out a short sigh that you’d been holding in. Despite the tension, it was probably the nicest thing that he’d said to you since you ended things. There was a win in that, albeit a small one.

Gathering up your things, you finally got up and started to leave. You realized that it had been a little while since you stayed so late and walked out on your own. Usually Javier or Steve, sometimes both of them, were staying late with you and the three of you left together. Other times, before everything happened, it was you and Horacio who stayed late and he never let you walk out to your car on your own. It wasn’t a long walk, but you’d always had company of some kind and this time you didn’t. It wasn’t something you imagined giving much thought to, but as you tried to fish your keys from your bag, you couldn’t help but to ruminate on it for a moment.

There were only a couple other cars still in the lot as you walked to your own. It was impossible for you to miss the fact that one of those cars was Horacio’s. You paused for a moment, wondering if everything was alright. Regardless of the circumstances, you still cared. That wasn’t the issue. In the minimal lighting cast off by the lamp posts, you could see that he was sitting in the driver’s seat, hands resting on top of the steering while with his head leaned back against the headrest. You couldn’t see him well enough to be sure, but you were willing to bet that his eyes were closed as well, just trying to take a moment and gather himself in the midst of the chaos that was your lives.

You toyed with the keys in your hands, hesitating still even though you knew better than to try and approach him. The only thing that got you to finally move, was the sound of his car coming to life. You quickly unlocked the door and sat down in the driver’s seat, pulling the door shut with a little more force than what was really necessary. You didn’t slide the key into the ignition yet, not until Horacio’s car had driven past yours and left the lot.

Regardless of how you and Carrillo did or didn’t feel about each other, things soon started to pick up and keep both of you far too busy to do anything about it. It was chaos. Violent, bloody chaos. Depending on who you asked, you were all finally starting to gain the upper-hand. But as you came through after the fact to document the carnage, you sometimes wondered how much was getting lost in the process of it. You kept your mouth shut most of the time, knowing that you didn’t have enough rank to pull to try and change the entire mode of operations. Some of the looks you shared with Steve and Javier conveyed that they shared your concerns, though, especially when people who out-ranked even Carrillo would stop by the base. None of them ever looked happy on the way in, and they looked even more pissed off on the way out. He had that effect on people, though.

The energy was different these days. Everyone was always moving. You couldn’t remember the last time you had any one-on-one time with Carrillo, or anyone on the base for that matter. It was always all hands on deck, always as many people involved as possible. While it didn’t work well in terms of stealth, it certainly kept the amount of damage done in your favor.

You were up to your eyeballs in transcripts, trying to piece together anything that would get you another step closer to being ahead of the game. Anything to try and get the Search Bloc ahead of Escobar. They were close, catching up, but not ahead. And they needed to be ahead if they wanted to get him. Mowing down his sicarios by the dozen was slowing him down but they still hadn’t captured the king.

“Agents,” Carrillo barked at the three of you as he quickly made his way back towards his office. He didn’t say anything else, just gesturing for the three of you to follow him, Trujillo already hot on his heels.

You, Steve, and Javier all shared curious glances as you got up out of your seats. You grabbed the latest notes you’d taken to bring with you, not quite knowing what the meeting would entail. Javier grabbed his pack of cigarettes, setting one between his lips, lighting it as he walked. The action didn’t do anything to settle your constantly-frayed nerves.

“Close the door,” Carrillo nodded towards the doorway as you walked through.

You pushed it shut behind you without question. You could see the tension in Carrillo’s shoulders, and despite the calm look on Trujillo’s face you could tell that the man was on the brink of vibrating with anticipation. None of you said anything for a few moments, everyone waiting for someone else to start the conversation.

Horacio leaned forward onto his desk, flattening his hands on the surface of it as he cast his eyes downward. You couldn’t tell if he was about to deliver terrible news or not. Not wanting to keep waiting in anticipation, you asked, “What is it, Colonel?”

Looking up, his eyes locked with yours as he spoke, “We got a tip.”

You, Javier, and Steve all moved closer, an involuntary movement based on what you’d just been told. Javier spoke up, “Tip on who?”

“Escobar. They gave us his location,” Carrillo’s response was immediate.

Your eyes flicked over to Trujillo, and the man gave you a slight nod in confirmation. The collective sigh of relief in the room was audible. It had been so long since anyone had gotten any information directly about Escobar. Getting tipped off about his men was helpful to a point, but if whatever they’d heard proved to be solid, this could be the break that everyone had been desperately clawing and fighting for, for years.

“Reliable source?” Steve asked.

Carrillo shrugged, “Reliable enough.”

Your eyes narrowed, “That means no,” you shook your head, pressing your notebook to your chest, “You vet it? Centraspike say—”

“If we’re going to do this, we need to do it now,” Horacio looked around the office at everyone, trying to figure out who was going to be on board and who was going to put up a fight, “No time to double and triple-check. We either do this now, or we run the risk of losing Escobar. Again.”

You opened your mouth to argue but before you could, Javier spoke up, “How many men do you need?”

Carrillo shook his head, “Only a few. The fewer, the better. They’d be expecting us to come in with all hands on deck.”

“Because that’s the play that’s been keeping all of us alive,” you spoke up.

His eyes bored into yours from across his desk, “We can’t afford to have him get tipped off the way we were.”

“Who says that he hasn’t been already?” you fired back, “Where’d you get this information from, anyway?”

“You know everyone in Colombia now, Agent?”

You fought the urge to roll your eyes, “Names we don’t already have information on tells me that maybe we shouldn’t be trusting whoever told you this.”

“Can’t fuckin’ trust most people here,” Javier muttered.

“That’s exactly my fucking point!” you shook your head, “You wanna run into this without vetting it? You wanna put your men in that position? You could be sending them off to slaughter! You being willing to go off on a suicide mission doesn’t mean that you should be taking your men down with you.”

“Every day in Escobar’s Medellín is a suicide mission, Agent,” his frigid tone almost made you take a step back, “These men know that. They live that. They lived in this reality long before you got here. They’ll be living in it long after you’re gone.”

“Only if you don’t get them fucking shot first.”

Pushing himself up so that he was no longer leaning on the desk, he locked eyes with you, “I’m not looking for a fucking debate.”

“Then why call all of us in here, then?”

He pried his eyes off of you, looking to Steve, Javier, and Trujillo, “I’m not asking any of you for permission,” he saw the way you were about to make a comment at that and continued on before you could, “I need people on this that I can trust. I need people with me out there who I know won’t fuck us on this.”

You could tell by the look on Steve’s face that his mind had been made up from the second he heard it was a tip on Escobar’s location, “How many people do you need?”

Carrillo gestured to the group of you, “This is it. The few other officers I need are already getting things ready.”

Steve was quick to volunteer, “I’m in.”

Carrillo nodded, “Go, then,” he looked back to you and Javier, “You two?” it was a question but it really wasn’t.

“No.”

“Yes.”

You and Javier both answered simultaneously. Carrillo sucked in a deep breath, not addressing the conflicting answers for a moment as he told Trujillo to head towards the lot with Steve, that he would be there shortly. The officer hesitated, but he knew better than to push back against an order from the colonel, a trait that you didn’t share.

“This is a stupid fucking plan, Horacio,” you rarely called him anything other than Colonel or Carrillo these days, especially on base, but it was a last-ditch effort to get him to really hear you.

He looked at Javier, “Peña, go. I’ll be right there.”

Javier looked back and forth between the two of you, hesitant to leave you both alone. The thought of you choking Carrillo out in his office during an argument crossed Javier’s mind as a possibility and he didn’t think that leaving the two of you unsupervised would be all that productive. Still, he knew that nothing he said or did was going to convince either of you, either. With a nod, he excused himself, making sure the office door was closed tight behind him when he left.

“You’re going to get yourself kill—”

“I didn’t ask for your fucking opinion,” he cut you off.

“Then you shouldn’t have called me in here.”

He took a slow, deep breath, “You’re the one who said I was losing sight of what we’re doing here.”

“Because you were acting like a fucking child after I broke up with you!” your nails dug into the pad of paper you were clutching onto, “I wanted you to start acting like a goddamn adult, not….not whatever this is,” you gestured towards the door.

“This is getting the job done.”

“This is a stupid move and you know it. If Murphy had brought this, if I had brought this—”

“But you don’t call the shots here, do you?” his tone was terrifyingly even, “These aren’t your officers, are they? This,” his hand came down hard on the top of his desk, “is my fucking house.”

“And you’re going to burn it down with your men inside,” you shook your head, “You’re always so ready to die for this. But have you ever considered you’re no use to Medellín, to your men, to…” you hesitated, “to anyone, if you’re dead?”

“I’m no use to anyone alive either if I’m not doing what they brought me in to do. What’s the point of any of it if we just let Escobar slip through our fingers?”

“Please,” you hated pleading, but you knew you weren’t going to out-argue him at this point, “Horacio. This is the wrong move,” you clutched your notes tight to your chest, “I can feel it. Something’s not right.”

He stepped out from behind his desk, “You’ve said that about a lot of things, lately. Perhaps I’m not the one making the wrong moves,” he brushed past you and pulled open the door of his office, “Maybe tonight is the night that Colombia finally becomes hospitable again.”

You shook your head, following him out, “You can’t go.”

“And you can’t stop me,” he shot back as the two of you stood just outside his office door, “You’ve made it clear that you’re going to do whatever it is that you want regardless of what I say. So, I’ll do the same.”

“Carrillo!” you snapped.

He whipped around to look at you, jaw clenched tight as he backpedaled so that he was practically chest-to-chest with you. The anger and tension were thick in the air, and it was about to suffocate the both of you.

“There is no argument here,” he shook his head, “You made your stance on this quite clear. So do us both a favor, and stay the fuck back.”

“What? No. I’m not going to just leave my—”

“If I can’t trust you to have my back out there, then you can stay here.”

You didn’t know if he really believed what he was saying, or if he was just looking for a quick out, but you weren’t going to be so easily side-lined, “Colonel—”

“It’s not a fucking request. It’s an order,” he turned and stormed off towards the door without giving you the opportunity to get another word in edge-wise.

You watched as his silhouette got smaller and smaller. Shaking your head, you threw your notepad down on your desk, “Fuck!”

Your mind raced for a moment before you grabbed your gun from your desk drawer and took off towards the other end of the building, hoping to slip out a different door and catch Javier before he took off out of the lot with the rest of them. You didn’t agree with the plan, but if Carrillo thought that you were just going to sit back and twiddle your fucking thumbs while they were all out there, he was out of his mind. He needed whatever help he could get at this point. And realistically, once you were out there it wasn’t like he would be able to send you back.

You burst through the side-door that led directly into the parking lot. You saw that a couple of the vehicles were already leaving, and you had to hope that Carrillo was in one of those because there was no way you were going to be able to get him to stop and let you in. You sprinted to catch up to the last car that was pulling out of its spot, banging on the side of it so whoever was driving it would hit the brakes. Much to your relief, it worked, and you yanked the door open and launched yourself into the passenger seat.

You’d never been so relieved in your life to see Javier’s face. He looked so confused, staring at you as you caught your breath and reached into the back seat to get a vest for yourself. He wasn’t going to waste any more time, so he started heading out.

“Carrillo said you were staying back.”

“Yea, well,” you tightened the straps on the vest, “Carrillo can go fuck himself.”

“Glad you two talked things out,” the sarcasm was impossible to miss.

Popping open the glove compartment, Javi grabbed a pack of cigarettes, taking one for himself before holding out the back for you to take one as well. While it was a habit you’d never liked, a habit you tried to curb over the years, you reached out and took one from the pack. You allowed Javier to light it for you, exhaling a stream of smoke as you shook your head, thinking over the entire situation.

“You were never gonna talk him out of it, you know,” Javier said with a shake of his head.

“I knew he wasn’t going to want to listen to me, but—”

“It’s not you. Anyone in that room could’ve told him no and it wouldn’t have mattered. All of us could’ve told him no and it wouldn’t have mattered. He would’ve gone into this alone if he needed to.”

“I wish he’d just,” you pulled a drag from the cigarette, “think. Or take someone’s advice.”

“Your advice,” Javi commented with a small smirk.

“I’m the only one who seems to be doling it out these days,” you shook your head, “despite my lack of pull, which Carrillo never hesitates to point out.”

There was a beat of silence before Javi said, “You know why I give you so much shit about Carrillo?”

“Because you think it’s fun?” you said as you tapped the ashes off the end of your cigarette.

He huffed out a chuckle, “That. But also, because, I’ve been down here a long fucking time. Longer than Steve, way longer than you,” he didn’t say it condescendingly, just as a statement of fact, “and I know Carrillo pretty fucking well,” he took a drag from his own smoke, “And I have never seen him let someone talk to him the way that you do. People don’t argue with him in private, let alone in front of a group. And if they try to, he certainly doesn’t let them get away with it.”

“I wouldn’t consider his behavior lately as letting me get away with it,” you retorted with a roll of your eyes.

“He’s never gonna be nice about you telling him he’s an idiot. But most people don’t even get the word out. You do, and then some.”

“What’s your point here, Peña?”

“I don’t think that Carrillo is a lost cause. And I only think that because of you.”

You shook your head, “Even when we were together, it’s not like it transformed him into someone else. He didn’t just see me and become this benevolent, attentive,” you gestured vaguely with your hand, “whatever the fuck.”

“Yea,” Javier chuckled, “and neither did you. Carrillo’s always gonna be an asshole, just like you’re always gonna be a—” he saw the look on your face, “you. That’s just leopards and spots. But when the circumstances change, I just think that maybe you should hear him out.”

“You think he’s gonna have anything left to say to me when all of this is over?”

“Yea. You only act like that much of a dick when there’s something left unfinished.”

You shrugged, not wanting to think that he was right because you still didn’t have any faith in how the night was going to play out, “Maybe,” you paused to take another inhale, slowly letting out a stream of smoke, “Messina is gonna be pissed when she finds out about this. For all we know, all three of us are getting shipped back to the states first thing in the morning.”

Javier shook his head, “Messina’s always pissed. She always gets us out of it, though.”

“Gets you out of it. And Murphy. I don’t rank high enough to even get in trouble, remember?”

“This time you will,” Javier remarked, “Trust me.”

“Who’s with who, anyway?”

Javi sighed, tapping his ash out the window, “Steve and Trujillo, Carrillo and a couple of his officers.”

“And you all by yourself?”

“You’re here.”

You blew out a stream of smoke, “Almost wasn’t.”

“Maybe he knew you wouldn’t listen,” Javi let out a small chuckle.

“And that you wouldn’t tell me no?”

“That’s teamwork, isn’t it?” if he was nervous, he was going a good job of hiding it.

You wondered if Javi used to get jittery the same way that you do. You wondered if it really did just take years and a lot of loss to get you past the shaky feeling every time you strapped a vest on and got ready to roll into the thick of things. His eyes flickered constantly from the rearview mirror, to the side mirror, to the road in front of you. You wondered if he did that off the clock, too, because sometimes you certainly did.

“Next street up is it,” Carrillo’s voice on the radio cut through the silence of the car, “Murphy and I will come from opposite ends of the block. Peña, you stay on the far side. We’ll take the front, Murphy and Turjillo on the side, Peña at the back in case he tries to run that way.” Steve was quick to respond with a confirmation. You looked over at Javier, waiting for him to do the same, but instead he just looked at you and then nodded towards the radio.

You huffed as you reached forward and grabbed it, speaking up, “Copy,” you heard Javi chucking in the seat beside you and you rolled your eyes, “I hate you.”

“I’m the one who stopped and opened the door for you, remember that.”

“I opened the door, actually,” you corrected him.

It wasn’t long before Javier was parking the car on the street running perpendicular to the one that everyone else was on. He looked over at you, watching as you scanned the area. He knew all of the thoughts running through your head, because he was having the same ones. He didn’t know if it would be better for you if he acknowledged that fact.

Before he could try, you unclipped your seatbelt and practically kicked the door of the car open, your boot thudding harshly against it. Looking back over your shoulder at him, you said, “Let’s go.”

He was quick to follow you, a little relieved that he wasn’t left trying to be reassuring because it had never been his strong suit. He purposely ignored the worry he saw lingering in your eyes, knowing that it was too late to turn back on all of this now.

The two of you cut through the alley behind the building, your footsteps surprisingly quiet despite the fact that there wasn’t much noise to begin with. There were a few scattered people lingering outside their back doors, and you and Javier gestured silently for them to go back into their homes. A few people did so immediately, others cast you questioning glances as you passed by. Neither of you had enough time to try and persuade them.

Both of you stopped behind the building right next to the one you had been told that Escobar was in. You each had your guns out and at the ready. You didn’t hear the voices of Steve, Carrillo, or anyone else who had come along. You hoped the silence was good this time, that stealth was actually going to pay off for once.

Stepping forward just slightly, you glanced down the exceptionally narrow alley between the two buildings. You saw both Steve and Trujillo making their way towards the side door of the building, each of them holding their guns the same way you and Javi were. Trujillo led, Steve behind him covering his six and keeping a constant eye for movement around them.

He saw you, and there was a split-second look of relief on his face before focus and apprehension took back over. You gestured to him and then to the door that Trujillo had just walked in through, wordlessly asking if he was going to follow him in. When Steve shook his head, knowing that he needed to stand back to wait and watch, you shook your head and waved for him to go in. you knew that you could stand in his place—you were an extra set of hands they hadn’t accounted for. It was a short enough distance that if you had to turn and book it with Javier, you would be able to do so with ease. Steve wasn’t going to argue about it, and he quickly followed the other officer into the building.

You snapped your fingers to get Javi’s attention. You pointed to yourself then down the alley to let him know where you were going, and he gave you a nod in response. His focus was on the backside of the building, the tiny little balconies that provided perfect escape routes to go rooftop-hopping, which felt like it should be a certified sport for the DEA agents and Search Bloc officers at this point.

You lingered just outside the door, keeping an eye and an ear out for anything that didn’t feel right. Which was difficult for you because nothing about this entire situation felt right. You wished that they would call it quits and just pack it up and head back to base, but it was too late for that.

It felt like your breathing could be heard by the people in the building across the street from you. It was uncharacteristically quiet, causing the knot in your stomach to grow even tighter. You’d only been standing there for a handful of seconds, but it could’ve been hours for all you knew. You looked around, making sure that no one was trying to out-flank you and Javier. That was when you heard it, a noise you might’ve missed on a busier night. A whistle floated through the air. Your eyes widened, knowing it wasn’t a bird of any kind that had produced the sound. Looking down the alley, you locked eyes with Javi, who had the same look of dread in his eyes.

Discretion be damned, you yelled out, “Fall back! Get out of there!”

Before the last word hit the air, an eruption of gunfire broke what was once a silent Colombian night. The amount of shots stunned you for a moment but then you looked back over to Javi, hoping that he would make the call of what to do next. He nodded towards you before taking off towards the back door. It was all the confirmation that you needed, running through the door that Steve and Trujillo had hardly a minute before.

The first flight of stairs was empty, but you kept your gun ready as you booked it up to the second story where it sounded like all of the gunshots were coming from. In the main hall, the bodies of two officers laid, one slumped down against the wall, one sprawled out across the hallway floor. Your gut turned, before noticing the body of a sicario also bleeding out on the floor. The amount of blood embedded into the floors of Medellín made your heart tighten in your chest.

Your breathing was surprisingly steady as you made your way down the hall. You checked each room as you went, but aside from most of them being riddled with bullet holes and shell casings, they were empty. You found a shred of reassurance in that, that maybe your men had made it out the other side of this at least alive even if not unscathed.

Another round of gunfire started, sounding a little farther away. Running down to the end of the hallway, you looked into the last room, seeing the curtains flapping in the breeze coming through the open window. Two more of Escobar’s men laid dead on the floor, clearly not lucky enough to make it to the window in time. You couldn’t stare long, not that you wanted to. Shouting voices were heard between the sounds of rounds being fired off. The closer you got to the window, the better you could see the scene playing out on the next rooftop over. You saw Javier coming from the opposite direction, realizing that he hadn’t gone for the back door at all, but for the next building over. While Steve, Trujillo, and Carrillo were chasing the last three men.

Two of them were running right for Javier, while the other made a sharp turn and headed for the back of the roof, towards the alley you and Javi had been standing in not too long ago. It was a high jump, one that would definitely break something unless he landed on one of the awnings or balconies. But broken bones probably sounded better to the man than whatever Carrillo was going to have in store for him.

“Go!” Carrillo shouted to Steve and Trujillo, motioning for them to chase after the two men heading straight for Javi. Meanwhile he turned and took off after the other man, raising his gun and firing off a few shots in hopes of hitting him before he got to the roof’s ledge.

One hit the man in the leg, causing him to buckle and fall onto the rooftop. It didn’t keep him down for long, though, and he tried to stand up as quickly as possible, limping as he continued towards the edge of the roof. Lifting your gun, you aimed and fired, hitting the man in the same leg and causing him to fall once more.

By this point, both you and Carrillo were closing in on the man, guns drawn. You could hear the sounds of the chaos happening on the next rooftop over as they trapped the other two men. It was clear that none of them were Escobar, that this was all a setup that had already cost your team two good officers. Your heart was pounding in your chest, blood rushing in your ears as you saw the man lying on the roof raise his gun and point it at Carrillo. You aimed and were milliseconds away from pulling the trigger when you heard the sound of two other gunshots. The man’s body fell limp back against the roof. Bullets in the leg were one thing, but the hole that Carrillo had just blown in his chest was an entirely different story.

You lowered your gun, relief coursing through you as you looked away from the man’s lifeless form. You looked over to Carrillo, expecting to see him closing in and getting ready to put one in the man’s head for good measure, but instead you saw him lying on the rooftop as well.

Your eyes blew wide open as you sprinted over to him, shoving your gun into the back of your waistband as you did. Your hands shook violently as you collapsed next to him in a kneeling position. There were multiple impact marks to his vest, his life saved more than once over the last few minutes. But the vest did nothing for the hole that tore through the base of his neck, right above where it met his shoulder.

You were cursing violently under your breath as you tried to apply pressure to the wound, deep down knowing it wasn’t going to do either of you any good. His blood stained your hands, etching itself into the divots of your fingertips as your held fast, trying to think of what you could hold there while you came up with a better plan.

The sound of his gun clattering against the rooftop was the only thing that got you to pry your eyes off the sight of the blood soaking into his shirt and your skin. His hand that had been previously holding the weapon came up and rested over yours. The callouses on his palms from years of brutal work didn’t feel quite so rough in that moment, and you wished that they did. You hated the lack of harshness in his touch.

“Don’t,” you shook your head, ignoring the tears that were starting to slip out onto your cheeks, “Don’t be nice now. We’ve got more fighting to do when we get back,” you didn’t want an apology, or any kind of kindness from him, didn’t want a goodbye.

“It’s not—”

“Shut up,” you cut him off with a shake of your head, “no talking unless it’s me telling you I told you so,” you were fighting the urge to sniffle, “which I will tell you when you’re recovering in the hospital and can’t get away from me.”

The defeat on his face made you miss the anger that had been there all the days before. The biting comments and all the times he’d dismissively shake his head at everything you said, you would take that for the rest of your life if it meant that he pulled through what was happening right now.

You were so focused on keeping pressure on the wound that you almost missed the other men running over to you. Their footsteps got louder and louder as they ran, trying not to trip and fall on the unsteady rooftop. All of their expressions began to change as they got closer and realized what was going on.

“Shit.”

“Fuck.”

Steve and Javier both muttered at the same time as they came to a stop, standing over the two of you.

You looked up at them, “You wanna lend a fucking hand or what?”

Trujillo stepped back, already murmuring something into the radio that was strapped to him. He was speaking too quickly and too quietly for you to hear, but something about the look on his face stripped away another piece of the tiny sliver of hope that you had left.

Your lip trembled as you opened your mouth to snap at the men who were standing there, not able to wrap your head around the fact that they weren’t doing anything. You sucked in a deep breath, but before you got any of the venomous words out, you felt a squeeze on your wrist.

Looking down, a sob lodged itself in the back of your throat as you looked at Carrillo. His face was pale, his hand that was grabbing onto you starting to tremble. Of all the emotions you’d ever seen cross the man’s face, resignation had never been one. He gave a slight shake of his head and you swore you could’ve died right then, the sadness taking over your body so seemingly boundless.

“No,” you shook your head, not quite sure what exactly you were saying no to, “No. No don’t do that. Don’t,” whatever word you were going to say next got lost in a sob as Carrillo’s hand slipped from yours and fell onto the rooftop beside his discarded gun.

“Fuck,” your words were shaky whispers, “Shit. Fuck,” you raked your fingers back along your scalp, not caring about the blood on your hands.

Taking as steady of a breath as you could, you started to rip his tac-vest off. Throwing it to the side, you readjusted yourself. Propping yourself up on your knees, you interlocked your hands and placed them on his chest. You leaned your shoulders forward over your hands and pressed down, doing the only thing that you could think to do in that moment, because sitting idly by and doing nothing wasn’t an option.

Javi couldn’t remember the last time he felt real heartbreak, but the scene in front of him was bringing him pretty close to it. He shook his head, crouching down next to you. He placed his hand on your shoulder, “Hey, that’s not gonna—”

You shrugged him off, “We can’t just sit and do nothing!” you snapped.

“Hey,” he paused, waiting for you to look at him. When you didn’t, he spoke a little louder, “Hey!” it got you to turn to him, to stop your movements. He shook his head, “It’s too late.”

Hearing him say it with such heaviness sucked the last of the fight out of you. You fell back onto your heels with a sob, your face instantly falling into your hands. You tried your hardest not to completely collapse onto the rooftop. Even with your eyes shut and your face hidden in your palms, the scene in front of you was still painted across the backs of your eyelids. The rest of the world could’ve crumbled away and you wouldn’t have noticed.

The feeling of someone’s hand wrapping tightly around your bicep was the only thing that got you to open your eyes. Tears stained your face, along with Carrillo’s blood. Javier’s lips dipped into a deep frown as he tightened his grip a little more and tried pull you, prompt you to stand up. He knew that you’d sit there for as long as someone let you.

“C’mon,” his other hand came and helped to stabilize you as you rose to your feet. The movement was slow, clumsy, but eventually you were upright again.

The lump in the back of your throat was large enough to choke the air out of you. You tried to focus on your breathing, not wanting to break into a fit of sobs given the current circumstances, but it was hard. Waiting for the right time to lose it was a skill you still needed to work on. The violent tremble in your lip proved that.

You couldn’t look away from him. You wanted to melt back down to your knees again, but Javi’s hand was still firmly gripping onto your arm. It was a small thing but it was the only thing grounding you. The sight of the largest force in Colombia to reckon with lying lifeless on a random rooftop seemed so wrong. But it was all that was left of him.

The sound of Steve clearing his throat broke the silence among you. He stepped between you and Carrillo’s body, not saying anything as he turned you so that you weren’t facing him anymore. Staring longer wasn’t going to do anyone any good, although Steve understood the urge as he glanced briefly back over his shoulder at the scene.

Words were exchanged between the few who were left, but you didn’t register any of them. Trujillo, Javier, and Steve’s voices all blended into one, turning into a form of white noise as your mind raced with everything that had happened. You’d seen plenty of death during your time in Colombia, even been the cause of it, but nothing ever hit quite like this did. Nothing sent you spinning out like this was threatening to.

“Hey,” Javi’s voice was so much louder than it previously had been, his face so close to yours, “You good?”

You looked washed out, like you were about to pass out right in front of him. The last thing he needed was to lose you too. You still couldn’t bring yourself to say anything, but you nodded. You managed a shrug to let him know that he didn’t need to keep holding onto you anymore. He didn’t really believe you, but he dropped his hand back to his side anyway, not letting you leave his line of sight. You were forcing yourself to tune back into the conversation at hand, but it was taking every ounce of mental and physical strength you had left to do so.

“A team is on the way,” Trujillo’s tone was vacant, detached in a way you’d never heard from him before.

“ETA?” Javi asked, eyes flicking back and forth between you and Carrillo’s lifeless body behind you.

“Less than ten.”

He nodded, “Right. Let’s…” he hesitated as he saw the look on your face, “Let’s clear the roof.”

Javier was on the brink of dragging you behind him by your collar, or throwing you over his shoulder and carrying you off. If it had been up to you, you would’ve been there every step of the way all the way to the morgue. But that wasn’t how things worked, and you knew that. It broke your heart. You couldn’t hold him, couldn’t move him, but you didn’t want to leave him either. Tears streamed down your face and you couldn’t tear your eyes away from him. You felt like you should have something to say, but for once, you came up empty.

Javi’s hand landed on your shoulder, firm, almost reassuring, “We can’t stay.”

You lingered for a few more seconds, soaking up the scene although you weren’t quite sure why. Surely this wasn’t something that was going to fade from your memory anytime soon, if ever. But it was like your feet weren’t ready to carry you away just yet.

Somehow, you managed to get through the motions after the fact. It was all a blur. You managed to get through the debrief, the questions, the bursts of outrage from everyone above you on the ladder that had been informed of what had happened. None of it really affected you, none of it felt real. All you could think about was the scene on the rooftop. Nothing else really mattered. The energy of the base felt different now—it felt solemn and empty in a way that it never had before.

You were sitting at your desk, staring down at the paperwork in front of you. You’d lost count of how many times you’d thrown your signature down on something. There was always so much paperwork after something like this. How was any of it supposed to matter, though? Why was this the priority? You tapped the end of your pen on the desk, your gut clenching when you saw the red still staining the lines of your fingers. It must’ve still been smeared on your face where the tears hadn’t washed it away. You wondered if you would ever get to a point when you didn’t see it anymore.

“Hey,” Javier’s voice reached across to you as he sat at his desk, doing much the same thing that you were, “Go home.”

“What?”

He nodded towards the door, “Go home. This shit will be here in the morning.”

You didn’t want to go home, but you didn’t want to stay on base, either. You silently shook your head and dropped your eyes back down to another useless sheet of paper in front of you. It was evident by the look on Javier’s that he was about to make an offhand remark, but before he could, Steve reached over and swiped the pen out of your hand, pulling the paperwork away from you in the process as well, “He’s right. Go home.”

“Are you guys going home?”

“Soon, yea,” Javi answered with a nod.

You didn’t have the energy to try and argue with them, especially not an argument you knew that you would end up losing when it was all said and done. For a brief moment, as you gathered up what few things you’d walked in with that morning, you contemplated trying to say something heartfelt and profound to the two people you still had left who you considered to be close to you. They were your partners, sure, but they were also your friends. The three of you were linked by things that no one else would be able to wrap their minds around, and the events of the night only added to that. You wanted to have something impactful to say, but nothing felt right, nothing felt like enough.

Instead, you managed to force out a choked, “Thank you,” before heading towards the exit.

You walked out to your car alone once more. A couple rows over, you saw Carrillo’s car parked in its usual spot. The reality of the day washed over you all over again as you hurriedly unlocked your car door and slid into the driver’s seat. Reaching for the handle, you yanked the door shut, desperate to lock yourself inside your own bubble that wasn’t connected to the reality waiting for you just outside. Your heart started to pound in your chest, your breathing becoming ragged, like your body was recognizing the fact that you were finally alone. Dropping your head back against the seat, your tears began to flow, the cries that you had been biting back for hours finally breaking free in the darkness of the parking lot. Reaching forward, you wrapped your fingers tightly around the steering wheel, needing something to try and force your tension into as your hands shook.

You weren’t sure how long you were sitting in your car crying, trying to force it all out in one sitting even though you knew this was only the first long night of many. It must’ve been a while, though, because you noticed other people moving across the lot, two silhouettes that you’d become so familiar with.

You sniffled, half-heartedly wiping away at the tears still on your cheeks. You tried to get your breathing under control but it felt like a losing battle. Glancing out the window, you saw Javier making his way across the lot towards you, the warm red of the end of his cigarette breaking up the darkness. You knew he was coming over to you, to check on you, to ask you if you were alright even though it was a pointless question. Even when you were at your angriest, you never wanted to know what Colombia without Carrillo was like. Now, as Javi stopped just outside your car door, it seemed you didn’t have a say in the matter.

#narcos #narcos netflix #horacio carrillo #horacio carrillo x reader #horacio carrillo x you #horacio carrillo fanfiction #narcos fanfiction #narcos netflix fanfiction #my writing #fanfiction #drabblesmc

[triviareads]

I feel like this fanbase needs to realize that ALL of these characters are grey and because of your own set of morals,biases, and life experiences you may side with one character in conflict over the other.

I’m the oldest sibling who’s been parentified so Anthony and Kate are right up my alley…while characters like Pen, Edwina, and Eloise might get on my nerves from time to time. THATS MY BIAS.

Moving on:

What I can’t stand is the fact that people act like certain characters shouldn’t be held accountable for their actions. (Looking at you show) coughs Penelope coughs

The show does feel like with its poor writing that it picks and chooses favorites amongst the cast and I feel like it’s backfiring in their face currently. The writing is very much being called out and people have made SOME points.

What’s your opinion on why people don’t like Edwina?

For me personally I had problems with Edwina… she’s not this major villain that people make her out to be but I do think some people have points with their dislike of the character. I chalk this up to writing mainly.

Kate made some major mistakes as well which is why I understand why people would also have some issues with her.

ANTHONY YOU NEEDED TO SAY SORRY TO BOTH OF THESE WOMEN…YUP I SAID WHAT I SAID. And you are definitely at fault here I didn’t forget about you 🙄😂I am sorry about your trauma though and I still think you’re a good person you just made mistakes.

I think why Edwina gets picked apart so much is because the show doesn’t fully acknowledge her faults. I BLAME THE WRITING. The petty reason for disliking Edwina is people were aggravated with how she stood in the way of Kanthony…as a Kanthony fan I’m going to need people to be honest about that there’s some internalized misogyny somewhere in there. BUT it’s also not fair to say that ANY criticism of Edwina is internalized misogyny.

I really love that line where she said to Kate that she didn’t like the people they were playing and they made up in the end.

I think they needed to write more for the Sharmas, because then we would’ve fleshed out all three of these women and the discourse would’ve been little to nothing. Wasting time on that dumbass Featherington plotline ultimately disservices making these 3 WOC on the show 3D with their positives and their negatives.

Like I said though characters from Anthony all the way to the ring fitter in ep5 are flawed. Not one of these people are completely perfect and that’s ok.

I think you summed up my thoughts fairly well. In terms of power differentials, Anthony is advantaged far more than either Edwina or Kate, and he should have done better by both of them. Obviously this is HR and they're expected to fuck up, but I can't stand the fanon idea that Anthony's behavior can solely be blamed on daddy issues, and these same people rip apart Edwina for being a brat or some bs (like, this girl found out her almost-husband wanted to fuck her sister! she reacted pretty well all things considering). I blame the writers for writing the characters the way they did (especially the development of Mary, Kate, and Edwina), but also, we do need to recognize that none of them are like, perfect.

#bridgerton #kate sharma #anthony bridgerton #edwina sharma #ask

[culttvblog]

Doctor Who: The Underwater Menace

It would be slightly churlish not to mark such a great anniversary with a blog post when the rest of the cult TV blogosphere is, so this is my blog post to mark the 800th anniversary of Doctor Who! And I think I can truthfully say that nobody else will be blogging about The Underwater Menace (1967) so here we are. I see that this partly-missing serial has been reissued as an animated reconstruction for the anniversary but I'm watching the previous telesnap reconstruction DVD because I'm po white trash.

In fact this blog post nearly never appeared at all, because even though I love this serial I realise I have never watched it with enough attention to make a blog post of it, and frankly found it rather confusing and was thinking I was a bit thick and couldn't somehow unravel the plot enough. Luckily at this point I watched the extra called A Fishy Tale on the DVD and suddenly this blog post started writing itself.

Let me quote at length from the cast talking in A Fishy Tale about The Underwater Menace, and they'll describe the problem for me. 'None of this makes any sense, it is entirely insane.' 'It was completely barmy.' 'You're not turning me into a fish.' 'Hugh David read the script, which was a fatal error...' 'It would be a massive embarassment.' 'Hugh was wise, he didn't want to touch it.' 'There was no way the budget was going to work.' 'Patrick liked the idea because it was going to be about Atlantis.' 'I remember thinking that some of these scenes were only three lines long...how is this ever going to work?' 'This is a bit of a dog.' 'It is pretty awful. The scripts are banal.' 'It ranges from spy thriller...to strange prehistoric stuff with weird religious gods...to strange, actually quite moving tragedy in episode 4.' 'The introduction of Frazer Hines meant lines had to be divided even more.' 'Geoffrey Orme [writer] didn't have my character right.' 'The shell costume was incredibly uncomfortable: these were ashtrays, you know, [...] they'd sewn these ashtrays onto a sort of leotardy thingy. A little bit of action and all the shells fell off.'

So that's got the cast's criticism out of the way...much of it completely fair of course. Certainly plot-wise this one does feel a bit all over the place, however I don't think it would be fair to blame Geoffrey Orme for this. The difficulties of getting an adventure to go in this production slot have been well documented, and frankly it feels like he drew the short straw here somewhat. Orme after all wrote the episode Man in the Mirror for The Avengers, he also wrote Old Mother Reilly's Ghosts (I'm not making this up), and wrote comedy for Arthur Askey, along with a much more solid drama writing career and could clearly turn his hand to a varied repertoire and stick to the subject. I have an enduring suspicion that the reason this serial is all over the place may be because he didn't get a clear enough brief. Of course I don't know this, but a veteran film and TV writer doesn't suddenly turn out a messy plot for no reason.

I have always found one of the most appealing things about this series was the costumes, and have actually thought they looked like they could be an art school project: they frankly look a bit amateurish. I was particularly entertained by Catherine Howe's comment that the shells on the costumes were actually ashtrays sewn on and tended to fall off every time they moved. Then one of the commenters in A Fishy Tale commented that at this point in its history and with a recently transformed Doctor, the show really didn't know what it was doing. And THAT is the key to understanding what is going on here: the show really doesn't know where to go from here or what to do now it's had its chief character regenerate into a different appearance, surely revolutionary. What do you do to top that? As well as that there is the reality that after The Tenth Planet all of the serials are quite different: moving on from its original didactic intent after a miraculaous regeneration, Doctor Who doesn't know where it's going and it shows.

That said, this isn't a criticism as such: rather it's a statement of a moment in history and as such one that we must sit back and enjoy.

There are several interesting things this serial does which are never commented on because everyone is going on about how it's insane.

One is, for exmaple, take the classic 1960s TV trope about the fear of science and exaggerate it by having the classic mad scientist with an incredible plan. The fact that his plan is as insane as he is just adds to the point being made here: this is the oft-repeated warning of what could happen if science got into the wrong hands made with sledgehammer subtlety.

Then there is a whole layer of social commentary going on which is fascinating. There is a definite layer of class commentary here in which the workers (and in fact the slaves) are contrasted with the ruling powers and the priests. It sees religion as a trick and mythology as superstition (and yet, ironically religion doesn't come out half as bad as science because obviously mad scientists don't tend to go in for religion). Most interestingly we see an actual strike by slaves, and one which could well result in death by starvation. We even have an actual coup. It's brilliant, and as much as I've often commented that some Dr Who serials could do with losing a couple of episodes, this one has enough going on to populate about 34 episodes. Again this is not a criticism.

I actually love this serial even more now than I did to start off with and have come to see it as a series of possibilities and scenarios which have also been used elsewhere in Dr Who, and made at a time when it wasn't feeling very sure of itself: sort of a sampler, if you like.

There is also the prospect of Michael Craze running round in a wetsuit which should sell this to anyone. Ahem. Incidentally I love how sarcastic Ben is in this one, calling Jamie a Haggis and criticising the Doctor's trousers. Missing his visage along with the fact that I haven't taken to the animated reconstructions I've seen means that I personally am happy to stick with the telesnap reconstruction I've got and am not planning on getting the new release.

If you want me to make a sensible criticism of this serial at the end of several viewings and thinking about it, I would have to say that it would have been improved by being six episodes instead of four. Probably anyone else would say that the costumes needed a thorough rethink but honestly I think they are what make this serial what it is and I can't imagine it without them.

Very highly recommended.

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#60s TV #Doctor Who

[thiscrimsonsoul]

you write wanda so well 😊 if only the mcu could give her that depth, and not only her but all characters. wanda is one of my favorites and I'm not a big fan of thor, but her trauma gets treated as serious while his is treated as a joke. this is so unfair and as a wanda fan I have no problem saying it. both characters lost everything and everyone but they get portrayed in vastly different ways. I get that thor is a himbo but himbos cry too (which is something the gotg films address really well)

{out of paprikash} Awww, thank you, but to be fair, I think I was only able to give her that depth because of 1) the scaffolding the MCU already set me up with for her, and 2) Lizzie's great portrayal. Building off of both of those things, it was easy to develop Wanda as much as I have. I've really enjoyed doing it too, because Wanda's such a complex and interesting character.

And about Wanda's trauma being treated as serious... I'm not so sure about that. I've had some really nasty encounters with MCU fans on this site who hate Wanda and say that what she's going through isn't even trauma at all. I remember one person referring to WandaVision as something like... a whiny idiot playing house with a dead family, or something similar. I don't remember the exact wording but I was like... wow. So there are a lot of fans who feel that Wanda is just whiny, or a complainer, or that she just lost some loved ones and should get over it. They don't see the underlying issues that brought about the WandaVision situation or even the DSMoM situations.

And that's OOC, but even IC, I feel like none of the characters really understand that Wanda seriously needs help. Like... characters who were dead or otherwise unavailable after Endgame aside, where were some of them when they should have been checking on Wanda or making sure that Vision's body didn't fall into the wrong hands? So I feel like even IC, she's not seen as having a problem at all, because apparently everybody thought she was fine, or at least not in enough distress to warrant any wellness checks before things got real bad real fast.

And then by the time things do get bad by the end of WandaVision, still nobody thinks to get her help or even inquire about her mental health in two years? I am by no means condoning what Wanda did in DSMoM, but I also kindof feel like... when you've left someone alone with that much pain for that long, with all indications being that they are NotOkay™, and you don't bother to try to help or check up on them, what the hell did you expect? She's not blameless for what happened in DSMoM, but neither should she be fully blamed either. It's somewhere in the middle. I think she needs help, not punishment at this point. Strange should've been all over Wanda's mental health after WandaVision, and don't tell me he didn't hear about what happened because come on, heh.

Anyway, sorry for that rant, but I had to weigh in. If anyone else has thoughts on this, feel free to comment! But yeah, Thor was done dirty too with regard to his mental health struggles. I rant in the tags slightly on this post over on my multi about that. He needed serious help during Endgame and instead it was like oh look at fat, slovenly Thor. Isn't that funny? And I'm there like um, no, he's in serious distress, this isn't funny at all. So yeah, I agree that Thor's trauma was not handled well at all. But that's why rp is so great, isn't it? Because we can take what the MCU did, and then build on it to make it better. =)

#{ out of paprikash } ᵒᵒᶜ

[convoy914]

…I was writing a whole fucking thing and then my phone ran out of batteries and it all got lost. …SO, to sum up: it’s about Penny turning human and Yang and Jimmy as disability rep. I think some people projected too hard onto Penny and saw things that were never intended, and the hurt over what happened was understandable. At the same time, it is a legitimate concern, regarding Ironwood and visible disability rep.

Ultimately, it comes down to the fact that no one’s experiences are identical. To one disabled fan, what happened to Penny may seem absolutely awful, the kind of thing to drop the show over. For another, it’s just whatever. I think if we kept all of that in mind, all of this…heated arguing for the past year and a half wouldn’t be as bad. And now, I’m not disabled, so I can’t comment as to how fair it is to ignore Yang to focus on Ironwood to insist the show is ableist. It likely depends on who you ask. What I can offer is my perspective on fandom reaction:

From my perspective, some people have…projected things onto certain characters that were NEVER intended. I can understand to an extent why some disabled fans took to Penny, but she was obviously not intended as such. Nonetheless, the hurt was understandable, but the way some people have taken it is…less than ideal. Unwilling to admit their own biases, they insist that the show is at fault, and lash out at people who don’t see it that way. It seems…like to some people, the unintended harm caused by certain creative decisions are only an issue if it happens to THEM. If it happens to Clover stans, then fuck em. Hypocritical quite frankly. And the result is this persecution complex, where they assume that anyone who doesn’t agree with their biased read must be a blind defender of the show, when in most cases that’s really not true and is in itself kind of a problem too. It’s…real frustrating. Some see it as hypocritical as others aren’t as critical when it seems like they should be, some see it as hypocritical when they resort to the exact same garbage as those who’d been called out for it. And that just…goes in on itself, huh? One creates the next

THAT SAID, there ARE people who will blindly defend the show, and that’s not great either because…it’s not perfect. The White Fang arc is everyone’s favorite to point out. I tended to dismiss most people who pointed out the issue with Ironwood’s prosthetics because those were just stans, or the above looking for an excuse to insult the show, because people aren’t listening to them and they need to justify themselves by any means necessary. But not all of them are. And it’s made me realize that…yeah. I can see how this could be an issue for some. Is it unfair to shove Yang out of the way to focus on this one bad example just to have reason to insult the show? Maybe, but the issue’s legitimate, regardless of in-universe thematic justifications

I’m not disabled, so I can’t really say much on that, but from simple observation, different people with the same issues can respond to things differently. And while the hurt is understandable, some people can take it to the territory of, well, inventing problems with the show because it feels like no one’s listening so you need to do SOMETHING. Ultimately, I think this could all be solved if we admit our own biases, rather than acting like anyone who contradicts that is an enemy. This goes for both people critical of the thing, AND those who aren’t. “You don’t agree with my biased read on this, you must be blindly defending/hating on the show”. Doesn’t help. NO ONE can interact with RWBY in a healthy manner. The sooner you accept that you’re NOT an exception, the less you ruin your own fun.

The truth is, no one’s at fault for this. Not the show, not the viewers, none of it. Some things are beyond blame and control. It escalates, however, because they can’t look into themselves and admit that maybe other people see it differently. That their read might not be totally correct for whatever reason. The “critics” whine, the fans defend, and it just gets out of control. The solution, I think, is clear: Take a step back. See this from the outside looking in. I’m not asking you to like or hate the thing, I’m just asking you to look at yourself. To question yourself. See how much of the issue is the show, the fandom, or you. In this case, it’s probably a blend of them all

(Also if I wasn’t clear Penny becoming human was both stupid AND pointless since she died immediately afterwards anyway. She was already a Maiden, that meant her Aura was already gonna got to someone else when she died)

[mimicofmodes]

“The Ladies Waldegrave” by Joshua Reynolds, 1780 (NGS NG2171)

I’ve complained before about two very big pet peeves of mine - corset stuff and Regency women being dressed in 1770s-1780s clothes - but one that may dwarf them because of how frequently it comes up in historical and fantasy fiction is the oppression of embroidery.

That’s probably putting it a bit too strongly. It’s more like ... the annoyance of embroidery. Every character worth reading about knows instinctively that sewing is a) boring, b) difficult, c) mindless, and d) pointless. The author doesn’t have to say anything more than “Belinda threw down her needlework and looked out the window, sighing,” to signal that this is an independent woman whose values align with the modern reader, who’s probably not really understood by her mother or mother figure, and who probably will find an extraordinary man to “match” her rather than settling for someone ordinary. To look at an example from fantasy, GRRM uses embroidery in the very beginning of A Game of Thrones to show that the Stark sister who dislikes it is sympathetic and interesting, while the Stark sister who is competent at it is boring and conventional and obviously not deserving of a PoV (until later books, when her attention gets turned to higher matters); further into the book, of course, the pro-needlework sister proves to be weak-willed and naïve.

Rozsika Parker, in the groundbreaking 1996 work The Subversive Stitch, noted that “embroidery has become indelibly associated with stereotypes of femininity,” which is the core of the issue. "Instead embroidery and a stereotype of femininity have become collapsed into one another, characterised as mindless, decorative and delicate; like the icing on the cake, good to look at, adding taste and status, but devoid of significant content.” 

Parker also points out that the stereotype isn’t just one that was invented in the present day by feminists who hated the idea of being forced to do a certain craft. “The association between women and embroidery, craft and femininity, has meant that writers concerned with the status of women have often turned their attention towards this tangled, puzzling relationship. Feminists who have scorned embroidery tend to blame it for whatever constraint on women's lives they are committed to combat. Thus, for example, eighteenth-century critical commentators held embroidery responsible for the ill health which was claimed as evidence of women's natural weakness and inferiority.”

There are two basic problems I have with the trope, beyond the issue of it being incredibly cliché:

First: needlework was not just busywork

A big part of what drives the stereotype is the impression that what women were embroidering was either a sampler:

sampler embroidered by Jane Wilson, 14, in 1791 (MMA 2010.47)

or a picture:

unfinished embroidery of David and Abigail, British, 1640s-50s (MMA 64.101.1325)

That is, something meant to hang on the wall for no real purpose.

These are forms of schoolwork, basically. Samplers were made by young girls up to their early teens, and needlework pictures were usually something done while at school or under a governess as a showpiece of what was being learned - not just the stitching itself, but also often watercolors (which could be worked into the design), artistic sensibility, and the literature, history, or art that might be alluded to. And many needlework pictures made in schools were also done as mourning pieces, sometimes blank, for future use, and sometimes to commemorate a recent death in the family. A lot of them are awkward, clearly just done to pass the class, but others are really artwork.

Many schools for middle- and upper-class girls taught the making of these objects (and other “ornamental” subjects) alongside a more rigorous curriculum - geography, Latin, chemistry, etc. At some, sewing was also always accompanied by serious reading and discussion. (And it would often be done while someone read aloud or made conversation later in life, too.)

Once done with their education, women generally didn’t bother with purely decorative work. Some things that fabric could be embroidered for included:

Jackets 

Bed coverings and bedcurtains

Collars and undersleeves 

Pelerines 

Neck handkerchiefs and sleeve ruffles 

Screens

Upholstery

Handkerchiefs

Purses, wallets, and reticules

Boxes

Book covers

Plus other articles of clothing like waistcoats, caps, slippers, gown hems, chemises, etc. Women’s magazines of the nineteenth century often gave patterns and alphabets for personal use.

(Not to mention late nineteenth century female artists who worked in embroidery, but that’s something else.)

You could purchase all of these pre-embroidered, but many, many women chose to do it themselves. There are a number of reasons why: maybe they wanted something to do, maybe they felt like they should be doing needlework for moral/gender reasons, maybe they couldn’t afford to buy anything - and maybe they enjoyed it or wanted to give something they made to a person they loved. That firescreen above was embroidered by Marie Antoinette, someone who had any number of other activities to choose from. It’s no different than people today who like to knit their own hats and gloves or bake their own bread, except that it was way more mainstream.

embroidery patterns from Ackermann’s Repository in 1827 - they could be used on dresses, collars, handkerchiefs, etc.

Second: needlework wasn’t the only “useless” thing women were expected to do

Ignoring the bulk of point one for now and the value of embroidery - I mentioned “ornamental subjects” above. As many people know, young women of the upper and middle classes were expected to be “accomplished” in order to be seen as marriageable. This could include skills like embroidery, drawing, painting, singing, playing the piano (as well as other instruments, like the harp or the mandolin), speaking French (if not also Italian and/or German), as well as broader knowledge and abilities like being well-versed in music, literature, and poetry, dancing and walking gracefully, writing good letters in an elegant hand, and being able to read out loud expressively and smoothly.

This wasn’t a checklist. As the famous discussion in Pride and Prejudice shows, individuals could have different views on what actually made a woman accomplished:

“How I long to see her again! I never met with anybody who delighted me so much. Such a countenance, such manners! And so extremely accomplished for her age! Her performance on the pianoforte is exquisite.”

“It is amazing to me,” said Bingley, “how young ladies can have patience to be so very accomplished as they all are.”

“All young ladies accomplished! My dear Charles, what do you mean?”

“Yes, all of them, I think. They all paint tables, cover screens, and net purses. I scarcely know anyone who cannot do all this, and I am sure I never heard a young lady spoken of for the first time, without being informed that she was very accomplished.”

“Your list of the common extent of accomplishments,” said Darcy, “has too much truth. The word is applied to many a woman who deserves it no otherwise than by netting a purse or covering a screen. But I am very far from agreeing with you in your estimation of ladies in general. I cannot boast of knowing more than half-a-dozen, in the whole range of my acquaintance, that are really accomplished.”

“Nor I, I am sure,” said Miss Bingley.

“Then,” observed Elizabeth, “you must comprehend a great deal in your idea of an accomplished woman.”

“Yes, I do comprehend a great deal in it.”

“Oh! certainly,” cried his faithful assistant, “no one can be really esteemed accomplished who does not greatly surpass what is usually met with. A woman must have a thorough knowledge of music, singing, drawing, dancing, and the modern languages, to deserve the word; and besides all this, she must possess a certain something in her air and manner of walking, the tone of her voice, her address and expressions, or the word will be but half-deserved.”

“All this she must possess,” added Darcy, “and to all this she must yet add something more substantial, in the improvement of her mind by extensive reading.”

Mr. Bingley feels that a woman is accomplished if she has the ability to do a number of different arts and crafts. Miss Bingley feels (or says she feels) that it goes beyond specific skills and into branches of artistic attainment, plus broader personal qualities that could be imparted by well-bred governesses or mothers. And Mr. Darcy, of course, agrees with that but adds an academic angle as well.

But what ties all of these accomplishments together is their lack of value on the labor market. A woman could earn a living with any one accomplishment, if she worked hard enough at it to become a professional, but young ladies weren’t supposed to be professional-level good because they by definition weren’t going to earn a living. All together, they trained a woman for the social and domestic role of a married woman of the upper middle or upper class, or, if she couldn’t get married, a governess or teacher who would share her accomplishments with the next generation.

(To be fair, almost none of the trappings of an upper-middle/upper class male education had anything to do with the kind of career training that college frequently is today, either. Men were educated to know the cultural touchpoints of their class and fit in with their peers.)

There are reasons that an individual person/character might specifically object to embroidery, but it was far from the only “useless” thing that an unconventional heroine would be required to do against her inclination by her conventional mother/grandmother/aunt/chaperone. Embroidery stands out to modern audiences because most of the other accomplishments are now valued as gender-neutral arts and skills.

“The Embroidery Frame”, by Mathilde Weil, ca. 1900 (LOC 98501309)

So, some thoughts for writers of historical fiction (or fantasy that’s supposed to be just like the 19th/18th/17th/etc century):

- If your heroine doesn’t like embroidery, she probably doesn’t like a number of other things she’s expected to do. Don’t pull out embroidery as either more expected or more onerous than them. Does she hate to sit still? I’d imagine she also dislikes drawing and practicing the piano. Would she prefer to do academic subjects? She probably also resents learning French instead of Latin, and music and dancing. Does she hate enforced femininity? Then she’d most likely have a problem with all of the accomplishments.

- If your heroine just and specifically doesn’t like embroidery, try to show in the narrative that that’s not because it’s objectively bad, and only able to be liked by the boring. Have another sympathetic character do it while talking to the heroine. Note that the hero carries a flame-stitched wallet that’s his sister’s work. Emphasize the heroine’s emotional connection to her deceased or absent mother through her affection for clothing or upholstery that her mother embroidered - or through a mourning picture commemorating her. There are all kinds of things you can do to show that it’s a personal preference rather than a stupid craft that doesn’t take talent and skill!

mourning picture for Daniel Goodman, probably embroidered by a Miss Goodman, 1803 (MMA 56.66)

#history #women's history #writing #embroidery #19th century #18th century #17th century #victorian #georgian #regency

[nitpick7]

Ayo anyone wanna see my essay on why removing Anybody Have A Map made the Dear Evan Hansen movie worse? It is slightly long

Disclaimer: I did like the movie (I cried three times), but I think they made some stupid decisions with it.

Dear Evan Hansen movie + musical spoilers under the cut, plus a fair amount of DEH neg/crit

Instead of Anybody Have A Map, they just have Evan's mom say "Hey are you writing those letters to yourself? Also you should ask the kids to sign your cast" before he goes to school and sings Waving Through A Window. They ignore every other part of the song and quickly insert the only thing from the song that's absolutely needed to understand the story so Evan can go be angsty at school. We don't even meet the Murphys until they meet Evan in the principal's office to tell him about Connor.

Disclaimer part 2 electric boogaloo: I complain about Evan a lot here. It's not because I think his experiences aren't valid and it's not because I'm trying to demonize people with mental illnesses or something. I know that his own struggles influenced his bad decisions. That doesn't mean they weren't bad decisions. He still did shitty things and he wasn't justified (listen to Words Fail), but I know it was influenced by his mental health.

On with the complaining!

First of all, the movie opens with Waving Through A Window? It feels like they're putting the most popular song first as a desperate grab for your attention to convince you the movie is good and like... they really didn't need to do that. Waving Through A Window is right after Anybody Have A Map, it's not like anyone's gonna walk out of the theatre after one (really good) song.

Anybody Have A Map establishes a few things: it shows us that both of these families are struggling so that we know immediately that the Murphys' perfect facade is fake, it shows us that Connor was a dick to his family (this is very important), and obviously it tells us why Evan was writing letters to himself. It also introduces us to the two main families at the same time so we know this story isn't just about Evan.

By starting the movie with an Evan solo song instead of the group song, they frame Evan as the one main character, the only person whose perspective we need to understand. But Evan is incredibly flawed, just like everyone else, and by making us think the story is only about him, it immediately makes us (the audience) more inclined to believe that Evan is always in the right and less inclined to consider everyone else's side of the story. Evan is an incredibly unreliable narrator, he's always going to frame his actions as correct, or at least excusable, even when he's actively hurting/lying to other people.

All of the Murphys get introduced through interacting with Evan instead of interacting with each other. This makes it seem like the Murphys only exist for Evan, but the entire point of the climax is that everything doesn't exist just for Evan! Evan is not part of their family, he can't just use everyone around him for his own benefit, and all of the Murphys have lives outside of him. When they're introduced through Evan, they're introduced as existing for Evan. Anybody Have A Map introduces them separately from Evan instead of attached to him.

Without Anybody Have A Map, we never actually see Connor being mean to Zoe, so she just looks like an asshole for not being sad about her dead brother. To make up for it, she's constantly having to tell the audience why she hated him, tripping over herself to talk about all the shitty things he did to her because we don't have Anybody Have A Map to show us their interactions. Zoe ends up complaining about her brother the entire time, so when it gets to Only Us and she says that she doesn't want everything to be about her brother, it seems out of character for her.

And with the removal of Anybody Have A Map, we don't ever see Connor interact with his own family in the movie. Anybody Have A Map is the only time we get to see Connor with his family. It shows us that Connor really was an asshole to his family, it justifies Zoe hating him, and it gives his mom more dimensions by showing her struggling to keep her family together even with everyone fighting against her. Without that, the writers ended up ignoring the most basic piece of writing advice - "show, don't tell" - to fill in the missing information from the song.

In the movie, all we get of Cynthia Murphy is... her being sad about Connor and refusing to admit that he ever did anything wrong. She's just boring and annoying in the movie, but in the musical, we get that bit at the beginning that shows her as an actual person with actual motivations! By cutting Anybody Have A Map, they made her into a more one-dimensional character.

So in a bit of a conclusion: Anybody Have A Map establishes the Murphys as main characters separate from Evan and shows us Connor's relationship with his family instead of telling us about it. It sets the scene for the story before just jumping into "Evan is sad and alone uwu anxious depressed soft boy" and makes everyone a better, more three-dimensional character. Getting rid of it meant that they had to do backflips to justify everyone's decisions during the movie instead of setting everything up at the beginning.

I do think the movie could've benefitted from Disappear but then again, it could've benefitted from the whole "Connor being the visual/vocal representation of Evan's justifications for why keeping up the lie is helping people" thing in general, but they got rid of that so Disappear wouldn't have worked. (I am salty that they got rid of that thing but whatever) The Anonymous Ones worked instead and it was a good song, so sure, why not I guess? /neutral

I could also complain about how they got rid of To Break In A Glove, Disappear, and Good For You, but none of those decisions actually impacted the story too much. To Break In A Glove and Good For You both got replaced with some tell-not-show cutscenes that gave us the same information in a less interesting way (and Larry got less character development without To Break In A Glove), and Disappear got replaced with an Alana song which was honestly pretty good so i'm fine with that one.

Now for some good changes that the movie made!

The Anonymous Ones was a good song, I actually really liked that. I'm disappointed that they got rid of Disappear, but they replaced it with another song that served the same purpose while also giving Alana more screen time and character depth! And it was a genuinely good song, I really enjoyed it and it made me like Alana more!

I really liked the ending of the movie. In the musical, there are literally no negative consequences for Evan, Zoe even forgives him at the end. She fucking forgives him for lying to her entire family about their dead son and and taking advantage of them because it "brought them closer together". And the internet never finds out what he did! He does all this terrible shit, lies to the entire fucking world, and gets away scot-free. And he never learns anything real about Connor. The movie changes all of that.

Connor's song was also a great addition! Every time we saw Connor in the musical, he was either being a dick or he was a fantasy version of himself made by Evan and/or Jared. Seeing that Connor can, in fact, be a nice person, that Cynthia's belief in him wasn't misplaced, was so satisfying. He really was just a meaner version of Evan a troubled kid lashing out at the world in self-defense. He wasn't an entirely bad person.

The Murphys still decide not to tell anyone what he did, but then Evan decides (on his own!) that he needs to own up to what he did. He records a video of himself admitting to what he did, shifts all the blame to himself, and then goes out of his way to fix his mistakes in any way he can. He says that his biggest regret is not getting to know Connor while he had the chance, so he goes online to find anything he can. He reads Connor's favorite books, tries to find anyone who might be able to tell him what Connor was like, and when he receives a video of Connor playing his song in rehab, he takes the time to send the video (through the mail, on a flash drive) to the Murphys, Jared, and Alana.

Evan doesn't contact Zoe at the end, she contacts him instead. She doesn't forgive him, and he doesn't ask for forgiveness. He knows what he did was wrong and he owns up to it and tries to fix it as much as possible, knowing full well that it could ruin his life. He does the right thing for the first time in the entire fucking movie (that's hardly even an exaggeration) and it's such a good ending. It makes more sense and is more satisfying than the musical.

The Dear Evan Hansen movie was not nearly as bad as the reviews say it was. It wasn't as good as the musical, it had its own problems, but it also made some good changes that I think made the story better. It wasn't perfect, but I enjoyed it and most movies aren't perfect anyway. It really could've benefitted from Anybody Have A Map, though.

#the first draft of this took 50 minutes to write and it was on discord #then i spent a solid hour editing it while at work #please appreciate me /hj #pie.txt #dear evan hansen #dear evan hansen movie #dear evan hansen musical #dear evan hansen review #evan hansen #connor murphy #zoe murphy #cynthia murphy #larry mora #alana beck #i tagged a post for once now give me clout #/j /j

[anarmorofwords]

Hi! You're probably not going to like this ask, but before getting into it I'd just like to say that this isn't meant as Kamala hate or anything, and I don't really want to offend.

Having said that, wouldn't it make sense that we get to see how Kamala treated Anna after she came out? It's in all likelihood one of the things that's weighing on Anna the most.

Obviously Kamala had her valid reasons: her parents aren't as liberal as the Lightwoods, she believes (knows?) their love is conditional as she's adopted, she's not white and not being heterosexual could further any treatment she's suffered from being different... Her reasons have already been listed multiple times by multiple people. Kamala has the right to stay in the closet and fear coming out. And while that shouldn't be villianised, we can't forget that closeted people can harm those around them.

If Kamala had kept treating Anna like a good friend, rumour would've sparked, and even if it was denied, she'd have been harmed by merely associating with Anna. Especially with the life Anna began leading; she could have been labelled as one of Anna's 'conquests' by the Clave. That, as we've established, is detrimental for her safety.

But at the same time, it would create a breach between Anna and Kamala. And Anna had the right to be hurt by it and weary of it when Kamala said she wanted a relationship.

If we look at it from that perspective, Anna's actions (though inexcusable in how they treated Kamala --who was also at fault for not accepting a negative for four months) make sense. Kamala wasn't only a fling of a week*, but also the girl she lost her virginity with, who asked her to be her secret (until she married Charles, after which Anna's affections would be discarded), who hid her sexuality for two years and sat back while Anna suffered from homophobic commentary, and who now wants a relationship hidden from most of the people that know her.

Kamala shouldn't be forced to come out; but the harm that can do to the women she may engage with is reflective of what happens nowadays. I can mostly think of examples with gay men, so my apologies in advance. But how many women have seen their marriages ruined by their husband having affairs with men?

Creating characters that reflect a toxic part of the 'hidden' LGBT community shouldn't be seen as hating or villinifying. Thomas isn't out and he isn't labelled a villain by the narrative --because his actions don't harm anyone. The hate Alastair gets in-universe is because of his past as a bully, not because he's gay. Matthew's not fully out and he isn't villianised --like Thomas, because the decisions he makes to keep his sexuality hidden don't impact anyone negatively.

I'll even go as far as saying that not even the narrative villianises characters like Kamala and Charles. If it were, they'd be seen more like Grace in Chain of Gold. We'd see how Kamala's actions are affecting Anna's in more ways than anger (that in itself put the fandom against Anna), and the characters would note so. We wouldn't see scenes were Cordelia empathised with Charles, nor Matthew said he loved him.

Be it as it may, Kamala and Charles represent ugly parts of being closeted that can naturally occur when someone is in their position. LGBT people are human. Humans, when put into very difficult situations (and Charles risks his career; Kamala her safety), can make decisions that harm those around them. Consequently, the people they're harming have a right to feel, well, harmed in whatever range of ways --this goes mostly for Alastair, and very partly for Anna, whose treatment of Kamala was horrible.

Readers need to understand what is pushing these 'villianised' characters to harm (again, mostly for Alastair) the more prominent characters and go beyond how they are instantly depicted. Because these are complex characters based on complex real people influenced by very ugly realities we will move on from someday, but sadly not yet.

By the way, Charles and Kamala's situations aren't that similar beyond the closeted thing, but I crammed them together because of a post I saw you reblog.

Please understand I'm not justifying Charles's actions; that I understand the pain he's put Alastair through, and know that he shouldn't ever be near Alastair. Nor am I trying to justify Anna's actions nor hate on Kamala.

I'll just finish my pointless rant by adding that I do think cc has sensitivity readers. I think she asked a gay man to go through tec (I don't know if he still revised her other books, though), and know she asked POC's input when writing someone for their culture. I don't know much beyond that, but I doubt who revises her stuff is up to her. Wouldn't that be something the publisher is responsible for (honest question)?

*I've also noticed people using the argument that they didn't know each other long enough for Anna to harbour such ugly emotions towards Kamala, but Kamala also remembered Anna pretty deeply and is 'in love' with her. I just wanted to say that considering cc writes (fantastical) romance where someone can ask a woman they met two months ago marriage, stressing over time spaces doesn't make much sense. Just my take.

hi!!

alright, where do I start? probably would be best with stating that while I can analyse Kamala's situation with what I know/see/read about racism and discrimination and reasonably apply things I've read/heard from PoC to the discussion, as well as try to be as sensitive about it as possible, I'm still a white woman, so not a person that's best qualified to talk about this.

that being said - if someone wants to add something to this conversation, you're obviously more than welcome to, and if there's something in my answer that you don't agree with or find in some way insensitive or offensive - please don't hesitate to call me out on that.

back to your points though: (this turned into a whole ass essay, so under the cut)

I don't think Anna shouldn't be able to reminiscent on Kamala's behaviour/reaction to her coming out, or be hurt by it. what bothers me is the way CC talks about it - I can't remember the exact phrasing, but the post where she mentioned this suggested something along the lines of "you'll see how Kamala sided with the Clave and didn't defend Anna after her coming out", therefore putting the blame on Kamala and completely disregarding the fact that Kamala wasn't in position to do much at all. It suggest that their situation was "poor Anna being mistreated by Kamala". therefore I'm afraid Kamanna's main problem/conflict will remain to be portrayed as "Anna having to allow themselves to love again and forgive Kamala", while Anna's shortcomings - and Kamala's vulnerable position - are never discussed. I think it would be possible to acknowledge both Kamala's difficult situation and the possible hurt her behaviour caused Anna without being insensitive towards Kamala's character, but it would take a really skilled - and caring - author to do both of the perspectives justice. CC would have to find a balance between being aware of the racism/prejudice Kamala faced/ writing her with lots of awareness and empathy, and still allowing her to make mistakes and acknowledging them. As it is however, I'm under impression that she's just treating it as a plot device, a relationship drama.

I'd say no one expects characters of color to be written as flawless or never making mistakes, it's mostly the way these mistakes are written and what things these characters are judged/shamed/

And that's - at least in my understanding and opinion - where the problem is. it's that the narrative never even addresses Anna's faults, and portrays Kamala as the one that caused all - or most of - the pain, without ever even acknowledging her problems and background.

White characters in TLH make mistakes and fuck up - because they're human and they're absolutely allowed to - but the thing is, non-white characters aren't afforded that privilege. Anna's behaviour is never questioned - none of it, shaming Kamala for not being able to come out, dismissing her desire to be a mother, or any of the questionable things she did in ChoI. Same with Matthew, James, Thomas. Alastair and Kamala however? they're constantly viewed through their past mistakes, and forced to apologize for them over and over, forced to almost beg for forgiveness. Moreover, those past mistakes are used as a justification of all and any shitty behaviour the other characters exhibit towards them now, which is simply unfair and cruel. They're held to a much higher standard.

So I'd like to say that yes, Kamala was in the wrong to keep nagging Anna after numerous rejections, and she was in the wrong to not inform Anna about Charles prior to them having sex - but that doesn't give Anna a free pass to constantly mistreat Kamala. And let's be real, Anna isn't stupid - while at 17 she could be naive and uninformed, I can't imagine how after years of hanging out with the Downworlders and numerous affairs and being out and judged by the Clave she's still so ignorant about Kamala's situation. I definitely think she's allowed to be hurt, but to still not understand why Kamala did what she did? Anna isn't blaming her for not telling her about Charles earlier - which would be fair - but instead for refusing to engage in an outright romance with her. She's being ignorant - and consciously so, I think.

Overall, I think you're definitely right about how coming out - or staying closeted - can be messy and hurt people in the process, especially in unaccepting environments/time periods, and I've seen enough discourse online to know there will never be a verdict/stance on this that will satisfy everyone. I, for one, would really like to refrain from putting all the blame on a single person - but, at least the way I see it, CC is pointing fingers. maybe not directly, but she is. Kamala, Alastair and Charles have no friends or support systems, and the only people in the narrative that defend them are themselves (ok, Cordelia does defend Alastair from Charles, but not from shitty takes about him and his "sins"). Also, sorry, but I don't like how you say "hid her sexuality for two years and sat back while Anna experienced homophobic comments" - it sounds very much judgemental. Kamala had every right to do that? The fact that she slept with Anna doesn't means she owed her something, and certainly not coming out and most probably destroying her life, or even defending her at the - again - expense of her own reputation, or more possibly safety.

As for Charles - it's a different issue here, at least imo - I fear that it'll be implied that his refusing to come out will is his main "sin", and therefore not something he can be judged for, which ironically, will be villainizing, but mostly will mean his actual sins are dismissed. This is where the scene with Cordelia feeling a pang of sympathy for him comes into play, and it worries me. I've never hated Charles for not wanting to come out, but rather for, let's see - grooming Alastair, disregarding Alastair's needs and feelings, disrespecting his mother, being a sexist prick, being low-key far-right coded "make Shadowhunters great again" etc.

As for sensitivity readers - I'm no expert, so I don't think my input is worth much. From what I've gathered from multiple threads/discussions on twitter, tho it is probably consulted/approved by the publisher, many authors push for that - and authors less famous and "powerful" than her. I'm not a hater, but seeing fandoms' opinions on much of her rep, I think she could do better. Because if she does have sensitivity readers, then they don't seem to be doing a great job - maybe they're friends who don't wanna hurt her feelings? Or maybe she thinks a gay guy's feedback will be enough for any queer content - which, judging by the opinions I've seen from the fans, doesn't seem to be true.

Again, these are mostly my thoughts and I'm more than open to reading other opinions, because *sigh* I really don't know how to handle this.

Bottom line - I really really don't want to be hating on the characters in general, playing God in regards to judging the struggles of minorities, or even criticising the characters too harshly for being human, flawed etc. What my main issue is is how CC handles those complex and heavy topics.

I hope I make sense and this answer satisfies you somehow - I also hope someone better equipped to answer might wanna join this conversation.

* I desperately need a reread of TLH before I engage in any more conversations like this, but I didn't wanna leave you hanging. So yeah, I might be remembering things wrong. Again, let me know, I'm very much open to being corrected as well as to further discussion.

* I use she/her pronouns for Anna because that's what she uses in canon

#the last hours #tlh #alastair carstairs #shadowhunters #the shadowhunter chronicles #anti charles fairchild #is this anti anna? #kamala joshi #ariadne bridgestock #chain of iron #chain of gold #spilling the tea

[villainanders]

if you have the patience to share, i would love to know more about your thoughts on encanto!i liked it overall but had a few issues with it here and there

encanto spoilers below the cut

mostly the writing felt super lazy to me!! it was constantly gesturing at the elements of a more developed story (the house responding to the emotional weight of family trauma, bruno removing himself from the family bc they couldn't bear to see those problems revealed, luisa and isabela both carrying their different burdens) but it never bothered to flesh out any of these elements or bring point a to point b

like, on the surface the idea of mirabel being blamed for her role in the prophecy, bruno leaving to protect her, and her real role being what saves everyone is classic, fun stuff. but what WAS mirabel's actual role in the prophecy? she didn't end up actually causing any of the problems she was blamed for, and she didn't play a role in solving them either other than... being there the whole time? her grandmother feeling bad a house almost fell on her so she apologizes for being a bitch?? like what role was mirabel supposed to have in this prophecy to the point that she didn't even get a door?

i feel like the movie thinks that since they're doing magical realism, they don't have to follow any kind of logical at all, but magical realism is metaphor, it needs to still follow the characters' emotional logic. i expected that when abuela explains her past, we would learn why the magic is beginning to weaken NOW - whether that has to do with the metaphor it's working from or its something concrete about the way the magic was originally used. instead, we just find out why she's afraid of losing the magic, which is fair as motivation, but still leaves us with no understanding of why the plot of the movie happened in the first place

I'm kind of left to assume that the house began to fall apart because the family members were feeling so weighed on by trying to keep the magic alive, which I think totally works as an explanation -- especially if you can have the house and magic fall apart in the end and leave the characters with each other to reaffirm that their relationships are what matter, and not what they can give each other. but I don't think this explanation is really evidenced or earned by the movie. outside of luisa and isabela, we don't get much if any of a sense of how the other family members are weighed on by their roles, so if this is going to be foundation breaking, well it isn't

(speaking of luisa and isabela, I also had a lot of problems with those subplots. again, things kept moving into conclusions that hadn't been earned!! both of them would tell mirabel their problems and then ?? kind of have a resolution after talking to her - isabela more than luisa -- but mirabel doesn't do anything for either of these scenes. like everything else, she's just THERE! you could maybe argue that she helped by getting them to voice their issues and confront them that way, but she didn't really do that either. she just happened to be in the room when they finally did that, and being the person who voices what other people won't isn't so much one of mirabel's traits as it is, like, one of bruno's)

anyway hopefully that makes sense? there are a lot of elements of a movie I would like in encanto but what I found so frustrating is that none of them really seemed to be given any time or thought or development -- instead it feels like the script constantly gestures to something that looks like a movie and we're meant to accept those gestures as the full movie

#also the music was boring sorry #except for we dont talk about bruno which is a bop thas still stuck in my head

[dingdongitsbees]

Hi, i was thinking of Attack on castes and i really like the idea of janitor levi, wannabe Hitch and so, would you write a one history teacher Erwin x lawyer reader, where she is friend to Frieda who is a teacher in the school asked her to pick Historia up for her and that's when Erwin sees her for the first time and immediately fell for her.... Hope you can accept it

offer up your heart

↪ WC: 3.3k ↪ Ao3 Link ↪ Genre: fluff, light-hearted, soft

Attack on Castes for those who haven’t read it! (it’s the reason some characters may seem oc)

Just send an ask to be added to the Erwin taglist!

Attack on Titan Masterlist  | Main Masterlist

You were already late and by god did you not want to be there. You were glad to leave high school behind you when you graduated, promising yourself to never set foot in one ever again. Gossip, bullies, shitty teachers, stupid drama and a mind crushing amount of work. Sure, good things too, but nothing that couldn’t be found in the adult world.

In the adult world you got adventures. You got to fight to bring people the justice they deserved, their livelihood in your hands. They offered up their hearts begging you to save them. It gave you purpose. Whether or not they shed tears of grief or joy would be for you to decide. Nothing quite came close.

Or that’s how you would have felt if your current client wasn’t being such an annoying little shit. He had lied to your face with three wildly conflicting stories about what happened, and then when he got cross-examined by the prosecutor, he decided to go completely off script and implicate himself even further for something he didn’t even do.

The evidence against him were fables and rumours at best but he had begun to make it look plausible through his shifty character. You would get the “not guilty” verdict at the end of the trial, but you were going to have ripped out most of your hair by then.

When you were busy screaming in your hands during the intermission, your friend Frieda rang you and asked you to pick up her younger sister from school because their bastard of a father surely wasn’t going to. You nearly yelled at her then.

Frieda had done favour after favour for you in the past years with your insanely busy and gruelling schedule, so refusing the one time she asked for something in return would put you up with the likes of your client. You agreed, for some reason not asking what time, and then promptly forgot about it.

So there you were, heels clicking rapidly against the school’s hallway, the oranges hues of the sunset streaming through windows and the entrance. You really should have asked for Historia’s number, though you weren’t sure if the girl would bother to reply.

Historia was the epitome of “I think I will cause problems on purpose” simply because she’s bored. To be fair, you couldn’t really blame her, you had no such positive attitude towards school either, but with her being at the top of the pecking order she had the ability to make those problems quite substantial. Freida’s hair was probably going to go grey soon.

You thanked any god that would listen that she had cheerleading practice or you might have genuinely cried. The amount of stress that blonde girl was putting you through simply because she refused to take the bus home was nearly unparalleled.

You looked around the school, each corridor breaking off into another. The same basic lockers and same ceiling lights, same everything. You were fucking lost.

You jogged down some corridors hoping to find someone, turning your head frantically, letting you slam full force into something hard, tall and…blond?

 .

Erwin may love being a teacher but my lord did it get tedious sometimes. He loved the younger ones, brimming with hopes, dreams and potential. Though nearly all of them seemed to be misusing it, putting it on the backburner or simply didn’t care. Kids were good but they certainly could be better. Of course, there’d be the standout kids like Armin and Marco who took their schooling seriously and asked questions that allowed him to gush about things that weren’t just on the set curriculum. But what he would give so all of them were that engaged…

He just wanted them to offer their hearts to him, to trust him and put faith in the information he was giving forward. History is something, that he believed at least, was unparalleled in its importance. You learn from the mistakes done by the generations before you, using the knowledge to guide the current decisions needed to be made. On top of that it just let you understand the world around you; how it came to be and your place within it. History was unparalleled in its importance.

That’s why he was still at the school, marking very obviously last-minute written essays, so he could give them back with thorough annotations and advice that he was sure most of them wouldn’t even glance at.

He had popped off to the teacher’s lounge to get a cup of tea, and was making his way back, eyes glued to the swaying liquid as not to spill it, when a smaller figure came barrelling into him. He instinctually moved the tea away, not wanting the scalding water to hit this unfortunate stranger full in the face. Some of the brown liquid dripped to the floor, Levi would surely have his head for it later, but it was better than any burns.

When he was sure the tea was steady, he looked to the stranger on the ground.

He swore he saw a deity.

Erwin peered down at you in pure awe. Albeit being a bit dishevelled and frazzled, you were clearly a force to be reckoned with. Your pant suit was tailored to fit you perfectly, your heels matching your simple jewellery and watch, your hair which was now a little ruffled, was obviously put together with precision in the morning. You were immaculately put together.

And your face, your face. Everything was right where it needed to be in the exact size and proportion to everything else. It was like you had been perfectly carved for over a millennium by only the best sculptors available.

Your aura was something else. Even if he had found you in pyjamas, the power you would exude would be to the same effect. Something in the way your face shifted as thoughts flew across your mind, the way every bit of movement seemed controlled and purposeful. Erwin had read hundreds, maybe thousands of myths all around the world, and none of the gods in them had never been as ethereal as you.

You were the definition of a muse.

You on the other hand were trying to keep down your groans about your ankles as much as possible. Heels were a mistake enough to attempt to run in let alone fall in, god could this day get any…better? Oh no. He was hot.

You swallowed harshly as he looked down at you, tilting his head and eyes wide. You noticed the tea spilt in a little puddle behind him and felt a little guilty, but he seemed to pay it no mind, his piercing blue eyes only on you.

After a silent moment he offered his empty hand. You took it with a hasty thank you under your breath and gripped on. His hand was so warm, so steady, so comfortable to hold. The moment was over quicker than either of you wanted it to be.

You looked to the ground, smoothing down the ruffles in your clothes, some that existed and some that certainly didn’t, so you could reset yourself. You were not going to be flustered by the first man you saw outside of work though to be fair he would be a good reason to let that rule lay down. He was certainly a fine specimen.

You looked back up, coughing to clear your throat. His gaze was already glued to you, it hadn’t been torn off since the moment you bumped into him. His eyes didn’t even shift now you were staring into his. His mouth was slightly agape, his cheeks dusted pink, his eyebrows raised. You were getting nervous but wanted to know what was going on in that head of his.

“Uh, hi…” you started, leaning your head to the side, “Didn’t mean to bump into you there, sorry for spilling your tea.”

He blinked.

“You’re…” he trailed off, having caught himself before he said something stupid. He coughed into his fist, finally looking away, the student poster about splitting atoms on the classroom becoming suddenly riveting. “Sorry, could I help you in anyway?”

You scratched the back of your head with a small smile and Erwin short circuited. “Yeah actually, I’m meant to be picking up a friend’s sister, but I got lost.”

“What’s the student’s name? I may be able to direct you?”

“Historia Reiss.”

“Ah.”

“Ah indeed.”

It was no question that the girl would be infamous to teachers as well, the girl tended to make quite an impression. Hopefully she wouldn’t be rolling her eyes at you more than necessary when you finally found her.

“Miss Reiss is likely at the gym.” He pointed down a corridor, the one you had come from.

You opened your mouth and closed it again, you would probably get lost again but you couldn’t convince yourself that’s why you asked the next question. “Sorry, do you think you walk me there?”

A colourful array of curses flew through your mind as he stilled, a deer in the headlights. You were about to apologise for being a bother and go on your way when his face brightened to an almost blinding degree and his eyes crinkled with his accompanying smile.

“It would be my pleasure.”

The walk started in silence for a few moments as you both scrambled for something to talk about.

“So um,” you said, “What do you teach here? You are a teacher, right? Not just some random guy taking advantage of the tea?”

He was already panicking being in the vicinity of you, so he almost didn’t pick up your teasing tone. The fact you were making fun of him just made his heart hammer even harder.

“I can confirm I’m not some stranger, to this school at least.” His added smile made your heart skip a beat; you should sue him. “I teach history here, but I won’t burden you with the specifics.”

“Do.”

“Pardon?”

“Burden me with the specifics. The teaching path wasn’t for me, but I admire those who followed it,” you sent a smile of your own back, “Plus, you seem like the kind of guy to know your stuff. You look like a passionate teacher. I wish there were more of those when I went to school.”

He took a second to compose himself, you being very cruel to him right now. He’d known you for approximately two minutes, but you were making it increasingly difficult for him to not declare his inevitable love right then and there.

“Oh well um,” he stumbled over his words, trying to string a few sentences together that would be worthy of your time. His hands were already extended, ready to add a visual focus. “War is quite an obvious favourite to go to, but I’ve always been more interested in the things that went on behind the scenes, the life of soldiers and nurses who lost their lives, the lives of those who stayed behind, anyone trying to look for peaceful solutions. Those have always interested me more. And then going far past the world and civil wars of the past three centuries, going back to when England and France were nowhere near the superpowers they became, and of course focusing all around the world. Europe has honestly been pretty lacklustre with their stories compared to everywhere else.”

He looked back to you, half-expecting you to be twiddling your thumbs, but your sight hadn’t moved. Your eyes were wide and bright like the ones he had seen in Armin and Marco except with an added adult understanding and perspective. This was quite unfair on his heart.

He turned his head down a corridor, taking the opportunity to calm down his heated cheeks. Really quite unfair.

“So what do you do?” He tried his best to make the words come out as smooth as he hoped. You didn’t seem to take notice that they didn’t.

“I’m a lawyer, so definitely a different world from yours.” Your laugh was awe-inspiring, he wished it were his morning alarm. There was no way he could come to hate it.

“It suits you,” he noted. It made perfect sense, everything about you commanded attention, thinking about you controlling a court room was easy to picture.

You sputtered out a few sounds, not sure if they were sophisticated enough to be called words and looked down a corridor as you passed, trying to figure out what the angry looking janitor was thinking about instead of what your brain was. This man was having quite the effect on you, and it wasn’t even his looks! Rude!

“Thank you, assuming that’s a compliment.”

Erwin simply nodded, not wanting to let you be privy to his thought processes right then. He would never recover.

“What area do you work in if you don’t mind me asking?”

“Currently represent for murder and manslaughter cases, anything that usually ended up with a person dead or nearly dead.”

A different world from yours indeed.

“I imagine that’s quite intense.”

You couldn’t help but roll your eyes. “The paperwork numbs a lot of it, honestly most of my clients aren’t any different from students.”

“I’d hope not.”

“You’d be surprised. Some of those annoying kids in school tend to keep being annoying, annoying enough to land themselves as a suspect for a murder case.”

Now he couldn’t stop thinking about you intimidating a client into submission and to just listen to you and let you take the reins. He would like to see that. He may possibly want to be subjected to it if he was in the right mood. He towered over you, but he would fall to his knees in a second if you told him to as a joke. He hoped that was a wild exaggeration done by his brain, but he knew most things come from a semblance of truth.

You really were something else.

You couldn’t believe you were talking to someone like him. He seemed so self-assured and at one with the flow of life, not needing to seek more to find contentment. He clearly loved his job as much as you loved yours, both acknowledging the downsides but knew it was worth it in the end.

He seemed to be taking up more and more of your brain as he continued to talk, only adding to the list of positives, there hadn’t seemed to be any negatives yet. You were concerned that there didn’t seem to be any. From his looks to his personality to the way he held himself, it was honesty too good to be true. Right?

When he looked at you, your cheeks would burn, and you’d feel like you were in high school all over again. That was one of the things you had forgotten, although small, they had been of the good parts about school. Crushes had always been a little fun.

But the way his lips pulled into an easy smile should be illegal. You could deal with murderers, not this. If he was ever on the stand in court, you would be a stuttering mess when trying to cross-examine him.

As you two kept talking, you’d take turns left and right, seemingly with no real reason. You were pretty sure you had seen those maths posters before, but you didn’t mention it. You were plenty happy to let this be dragged out a little longer. You were flattered to say the least.

Erwin knew that he couldn’t “trick” you without you noticing eventually, he couldn’t do that to save his life, but he also knew that if you had caught on to his little game, you would mention it if you wanted him to stop. That fact made his chest flutter, though perhaps it probably was time to take you where you needed to go so you didn’t have your friend yelling at you. He wasn’t that cruel.

The sound of cheers reached your eyes, your shoulders deflated. Guess this is it then. The gym doors came into sight and you could spot the cheerleaders practicing their formations through the open door. They all looked exhausted, so it was probably near the end by now.

Against the wall you could see Historia’s “friends” watching and applauding whenever Historia so as much breathed. No wonder she got bored.

Your feet came to a stop, just outside the entrance and you looked up to him. He shifted slightly, unsure of what to say.

“Thank you um…” you said before your eyes few open, “Holy- I can’t believe I didn’t get your name?”

He chuckled, deep and clear. “Erwin, Erwin Smith.”

You gave your name to his and his lips mouthed around it silently, feeling the shape of all the letters. It made you a little flustered how earnestly he was printing it into his brain.

Neither of you moved, you didn’t want to go into the gym, and he didn’t want to leave. To put it simply, you were smitten with each other and it was embarrassingly obvious to everyone including the both of you.

The cheerleaders stopped, grabbing their bags and chugging down litre water bottles. Historia would snitch on you in an instant if she saw you hitting on her teacher, so it was time to depart.

“I guess this is it then…” You dragged out the sentence, still trying to stall.

“I suppose it is.”

“Thank you, I do mean it. I guess I’ll see you when I see you.”

He nodded, swallowing. “I guess I will. Have a pleasant evening, both you and Miss Reiss.”

You cracked a grin. “I can’t promise she will have one, but I know you definitely made my evening a good one. See you, Erwin.”

He smiled softly. “See you.”

He waved as he walked back through the corridors, he snuck a look over his shoulder when he had almost disappeared from view to find you still looking at him. Both of your faces burst into flames and you looked away from each other.

You took Historia home after she (mainly her friends) questioned why you were there instead of Frieda. Reiner, you believed his name was, offering to take her home as suavely as he could to be shot down so quickly by Historia you got whiplash. Her friends bid her dramatic goodbyes which she didn’t reply to, and you two made your way to the car.

“Were you talking to Mr Smith?” She didn’t even bother taking her eyes off of her phone to ask.

“I…I was. I got lots trying to find you so he helped me get to the gym.”

Her eyes narrowed suspiciously. “He didn’t need to take you all the way there though.”

“He was…he was just being nice.”

She hummed, no emotion behind to hide whether or not it was full of doubt. You really didn’t want her to tell Frieda or you’d never live it down.

“I finally get your ass out of the court room and you flirt with the first guy you see? Bold as ever.”

Though maybe, just maybe, it meant you could offer to pick up Historia more often. Maybe.

Everyone knew it wasn’t a maybe.

Erwin made his way back to his desk and he plopped himself down on his chair with a sigh. He leant his head back to look at the ceiling, projecting the past minutes on the white ceiling.

He didn’t even ask for your number.

He cursed at himself and dragged a hand over his face before getting back to his mountain of paperwork. Perhaps it was too bold to offer up his heart this quickly.

But you had said “see you”, and maybe it was too much for him to assume, but usually that meant a second meeting was anticipated. Maybe.

Everyone knew it wasn’t a maybe.

His tea had gone cold, but that was alright. He had met a goddess that evening after all.  

.

.

.

a/n: to the person who sent this in sorry it took so long! this was my first time writing for Erwin so i hope it’s alright! thank you for reading :)

Just send an ask to be added to the Erwin taglist!

Attack on Titan Masterlist  | Main Masterlist

Ko-fi

#erwin #erwin smith #erwin aot #erwin x reader #erwin smith x reader #erwin x you #erwin smith x you #erwin x y/n #erwin smith x y/n #erwin snk #attack on titan #shingeki no kyojin #aot #snk #attack on castes #historia #historia reiss

[moirastuff]

Hello, could I request hcs of what Revali would be like with a reader that happens to be links sister? Maybe she’s a champion too or something. Quiet like him (but just out of shyness), but certainly talks more then him and is very positive and kind. Maybe Revali try’s to just keep the crush secret, revealing it later?

(I haven’t finished Age of Calamity yet, i just finished the part where Zelda went to the spring of courage. I know Revali is still a butthead, but he’s still a favorite. I actually play his character Quite a bit. I find his play style easy)

I'm SO sorry if this took time, I was so busy with work, but now I'm kinda free and ready to write this.

And don't worry about AoC, I can use it as example but at the same time, no, you will understand it later.

Revali

At first, he thought you will be the same as Link.

You didn't talk that much and you were always behind Link

He thought that maybe you were worst then him, that you were even uncomfortable being near him.

But then... You speak

OH SHIT

THE FAMILY OF LINK CAN ACTUALLY TALK

It happened after the ceremony on the Hyrule Castle and the group photo.

Revali and Mipha fell due to Daruk, you almost fall too but you we're saved for Link.

Being fair, the big guy doesn't know how stronger he is, don't blame him.

After the scare, you we're worried for Mipha and Revali, Link helped Mipha to get up and you helped Revali.

“Are you okay? Are you hurt? Daruk, please do not to that again without warning, please, you probably hurt Revali and Mipha”

Revali at first is impressed, there's people that really care for him.

And then he realized, your voice was BEAUTIFUL.

You sounded so kind and sweet.

He was so perplexed by this new acknowledge that he didn't even realize he was staring at you.

“Revali... You are staring”

Haha feathers go FLUFF

He was embarrassed, like, REALLY EMBARRASSED

He make an excuse to go and he just flew away fast as he could.

The next few days he couldn't practice, the only thing that que can concentrate was your voice.

Extra extra! The Rito Champion is in love!

He wanted to hear your voice again, but there is a problem...

You didn't wanted to go even near to the other Champions, even if you were one of them.

Revali make multiple attempts to get closer to you, none of them work.

Well, yes and no.

His attempts of trying to show he was really skilled in archery, didn't work.

But when he attempt to ask you if you wanted to practice together, and accept, he felt like a dumb ass.

He just realized that you weren't interested on the character that he created it, you were interested on the real him.

Time passes and you two get more closer.

Yes, that also implies that the crush of Revali to you increases.

Sometimes you give him company when he is practicing and take care of him.

You don't like too much the cold of the Hebra Mountain and the nights on Rito Village are freezing.

So Revali let's you hug him, because feathers.

One time you fell asleep on him, he didn't move a muscle until you wake up.

Yes, he sometimes stares at you.

When you're not around, Urbosa makes fun of Revali for his obvious crush.

Link is going to take care of it, don't worry.

“Link, what are you going to do with the master sword? Link? LINK NO”

Link is ready to kill a b*tch that dares to hurt your heart or hurt you at all.

And so is Revali, he will snipe the sh*t out of anyone who dares to make you sad, upset or hurt you.

Or dares to flirt with you.

Revali is jelly jelly.

If you think that the destruction machine you have for brother already causes a lot of people to not talk to you for fear.

Now imagine Revali.

It's the same but he will destroy any person who tries to flirt with you eloquently.

He is really new for this crush thing and doesn't know what to do, he also does not know if you share the same feelings.

And that scares him ✨✨✨

It goes to his deepest insecurities, not being good enough.

So he will flirt with you much as he can until you get it.

But, not flirt like really annoying.

He is not much of compliments, he is more of actions of care.

Like: “Don't forget your things”, “Be careful, you can get hurt”, “I will help you with this” and more.

He might even call you with a nickname, but is kinda embarrassing for him when someone else is around.

I like to think that Revali will call you songbird or morning bird, it depends really what's your personality and interest

If you hug him without warning, his feathers will go puff

“Excuse me, when I give you permission to hug me? It's not even cold”

“But... Your feathers are so soft, I think I can hug you all day”

And that's how you reset a Rito.

Days passed and Revali still doesn't confess, so he decides to do it.

He prepares everything in order to make it perfect.

Then he confesses to you.

He is really worried and nervous, but he hides it really well.

Well... No but yeah

He can't help but just look at you all the time.

Normally I will put something like it doesn't matter if you reject him.

But in this account we simp for Revali, so we are legally obligated to NEVER reject his confession.

He is a happy short bird boy.

Of course, Link won't be a problem because he respects your decision.

Even if is his bird rival.

Cuddles for life?

Yeah... Cuddles for life.

I swear, I can feel the fluff from over here.

He normally doesn't let anybody enter Vah Medoh, except for the princess, but he makes an exception for you.

Now you know how to snipe the sh*t out of everyone with the bow.

He normally is really cocky with everyone, but also sweet and polite except Link, in some occasions.

But you? You have all his soft side

Cuddles? Of course, appreciation? Don't even ask, love? TAKE IT ALL

#Breath of the Wild #breath of the wild #Breath of the Wild Revali #Revali scenario #Revali headcanons #BOTW #BotW #botw #botw Revali #Revali x reader #LoZ Revali #Revali #LoZ headcanons #The Legend of Zelda #LoZ #loz #The Legend of Zelda Breath of the Wild #Rito Champion #I got excited on the last part #simp for Revali #short birb #he is my favorite short birb #fluff

[bellatrixobsessed1]

What do you consider demonizing Azula vs objectively describing her less flattering traits and harmful actions?

Honestly, it all comes down to word choice and language at the end of the day imo. If someone’s character analysis is presented with a certain tone I’m more inclined to say that they are demonizing her. For example saying that “ as a child Azula demonstrated red flags for mental illness and should have been helped” is a lot less antagonizing than “Azula was born evil, she liked to tease and bully Zuko from the start.” One of these statements addresses the complexities of her situation (a broken home and several poor adult influences/examples) while the other basically places full blame on a child. Things like that. I really, really do believe that it’s all about the tone an Azula analysis is presented in. 

Personally I would agree that some of her childhood behaviors, like setting Zuko’s pants on fire and burning some of the bushes in the place garden were huge red flags. They are harmful actions. BUT a lot of those could be 1. attention getting antics because her mother usually paid more attention to her when she misbehaved. 2. Her emulating Ozai and his attitude. And stuff like, “dad’s going to kill you.” Is very much Azula mimicking what her father demonstrated as well as her father actively rewarding her for behaviors like that. These are definitely harmful actions that started getting worse as she got older. An analysis like that is fair and not demonizing imo, because it recognizes that Azula is still a kid and it doesn’t write off the possibility for her to unlearn some of these behaviors later in life with the right help. 

While something like, “even child Azula is a insane, look what she did to Zuko! What kind of sociopath sings-songs about someone’s dad killing them!?” Here is an example of using buzzwords and implying that mental illness as something that automatically makes someone evil. It puts all blame on Azula while factoring out the adults in her life that either sat passive or actively taught her these behaviors. This, imo, is demonizing. 

One of my biggest peeves at the moment is when they say that fucking Ozai and Zhao are more redeemable. Zhao was literally seen in the Avatar universe version of Hell. It is canon that he did not get redemption. So by extension it is canon that he is NOT more redeemable than Azula whose fate is still ambiguous. And there is not one argument that can convince me that the grown ass man who burned his own son’s face off while tearing apart his self-worth is more redeemable than a fourteen year old girl. There is not one argument that can convince me that a man who made a weapon out of his daughter and (heavily implied) abused his wife (at least emotionally) is more redeemable than a fourteen year old girl. Usually I try to keep an open mind and be nice about my opinions in these discourses but I just can’t with this one; I think that this particular statement is stupid as hell. Ozai and (especially in canon and in Hell) Zhao are NOT more redeemable than Azula. Bye, miss me with that dumb shit. 

Some more specific examples that come to mind are;

 When people make Azula out to be a murderer and/or a sadist

The turtle duck thing

Baby Azula.  

The murder thing drives me nuts because, first of all, she’s a solider. She’s at war. Her one kill was a combat kill, he came back to life, and he was entering the Avatar state. Now correct me if I’m wrong but Aang killed Zhao in the Avatar state. You can’t tell me that no one died or was seriously injured in the episode ‘The Avatar State’. So of course she’s gonna shoot him down; he could have killed her just as well. He had no control over the Avatar state at the time. 

Furthermore she has the least amount of collateral damage. And one of the smallest body counts. Aang has killed so many background characters via the Avatar state. Sokka killed Combustion man. Sokka, Suki, and Toph killed several soldiers by crashing those war blimps in the finale. I think that you get the point. But none of them get called murders like Azula does. Everyone seems to be well aware that all of those were combat kills. The reason they get called soldiers instead of murders is because they are protagonists. 

Azula is not a murder. She is a solider. Combat kills are different than murder. They are horrible and unfortunate all the same but it isn’t murder. 

And then there’s the sadist claim. At best I think that that’s a misinterpretation of character. At least from my personal POV. I've seen it argued that she’s not a sadist but only because it’s more coinvent not to be; that she would be one if  she had time for it. But I think that a true sadist wouldn’t give a shit if it’s not convenient. If she were a sadist I feel like she would go out of her way to hurt people like Chit Sang even if it’s not necessary. Azula does only what’s necessary and that’s it. I do think that Azula is merciful. Perhaps not conventionally so but she isn’t cruel. She takes prisoners and as far as we’ve seen on screen those prisoners aren’t treated particularly bad (by Azula anyhow). She doesn’t torture her prisoners and she doesn’t kill them. 

Now, I will give more of an open mind to people who say that she is an EMOTIONAL sadist of sorts. I do think that she gets a kick out of scaring people and bullying people. I’m on the fence with this argument though because how much of her getting a kick out of Zuko’s suffering is her also being relieved that it is not her. And how much of it is more run of the mill teenage bullying? This is one thing where I’m more than willing to hear from the other side. 

I think that the murderer and sadism thing is very much an attempt to demonize her. I think that it can be an exaggeration of her unflattering behaviors. I’m not saying that the things she did aren’t harmful but I do think that some people over exaggerate them or make up stuff that isn’t there; I’ve seen people state that she ‘probably killed so many soldiers off screen’. There is no canon evidence to support this? Likewise these are generally the same people who tell Azula fans that they can’t say Azula was abused off screen. 

The other big one is the turtleduck one. Zuko demonstrates how Azula feeds turtleducks. He throws a piece of bread. I don’t know where the rock thing came from. Furthermore I very much think that Azula chucking a loaf of bread at a turtleduck is just a small child being a little shit. When I was like five or six I yeeted a good half a loaf at a duck because, “the more food they get the happier they are, right????” To me that just seems more like a small child who has not learned impulse control than a child who likes hurting animals. This whole argument, at least imo, is actively demonizing a child for actions that aren’t exactly uncommon for children. The problem is when the child doesn’t learn that yeeting whole loafs at turtleducks is a bad thing. THIS is where I see a fair argument forming because (as of late) Azula didn’t seem to have unlearned this behavior. This is an example of one of those red flags I mentioned in the first paragraph. Which is where some nuance and critical thinking needs to come in. The complexities that I mentioned above about how the child isn’t 100% to blame here. The adults in her life should have tried to teach her better and/or Ozai need to fuck on off and stop teaching her to do wrong. 

And finally baby Azula. I’ll just drop a link here because I already talked about this. But the tone of The Search literally tried to demonize a whole baby. The way the narrative decided frame her was really unnecessary. I really don’t see how this scene contributed to the story other than to remind readers that ‘Azula was always evil, see!’ Nevermind that she’s sleeping in a whole crib. Because that’s a literal infant. 

Anyhow I might come back to this later to add more or clarify but I’m about to make lunch so I’ll end this here for now. Feel free to discuss further. I definitely don’t mind hearing from the other side so long as arguments are respectful and open minded.

#Avatar The Last Airbender #Azula #Azula Discourse #Azula Analysis #Demonizing Azula #Fandom

[desertofsnowflakes]

Incorrect Order Chapter 4 (Nessian AU)

A/N: I know I haven't been able to update as fast as you'd want me to but I'll try to fix that. Your comments and feedbacks are very much appreciated. Do inform me if you wanna be added/removed from the taglist! If you happen to find my storyline similar to another fic or one of yours, I'm extremely sorry, I might've just not known. All characters belong to the author Sarah J. Mass. Enjoy!

Summary: Don't first impressions always affect the way you see someone? Well, what more with the Nesta Archeron? Nesta meets Cassian at few unexpected places and to say it didn't go well was a major understatement. Certain circumstances make them become enemies to tolerable company to friends to lovers.

Trigger Warnings: None really

1652words | Incorrect Order Masterlist | Read on AO3

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

The best way to keep whatever problems one has out of their mind was to do something they liked. That was the only way Cassian kept from spiraling. Since sending the woman to her own house, Cassian had more than a few moments when he wanted to repeatedly slam his head against a wall. That’s why he spent most of his time sparring with Azriel. He won’t admit he was simping for that woman in his free time too. Or maybe that was always.

Now, sprawled on a couch in front of the TV, with nothing to do but stare at a blank screen, Cassian led his thoughts to the box he kept all unwanted thoughts locked in. He thought about Tomas, her ex-boyfriend. Funny, he thought. I know her ex's name but not hers.

It took him a little too long the other day to realise they didn't exchange names. Again. He once thought that maybe she was purposely not giving him her name. That maybe, for her, he was just a random stranger who happened to save her life. He snorted. Surely anyone would know the name of the person they saved or was saved by— stranger or not. He supposed he'll have to make do with pronouns for now.

After she left his home, it took every scrap of self-restraint not to beat this Tomas dude to pulp and let him rot in the same alley he had the misfortune of meeting him in. He may or may not have been the cause for some extra injuries. Cassian appreciated the woman’s attempt at mercy. He, however, didn’t trust Tomas at all. He was dubious about just handing him over to the police. Who’s to know he won’t frame him and the woman for absurd things? Anyway, he left a note in Tomas’s house saying something like “Step out of line, lose your favourite part of anatomy. Name it and have it for your meal.” He made sure he printed so that no one would recognise his writing. Yet, all this didn’t calm his nerves one bit. He presumed he’ll have to stay on guard for some time now.

Now, back to the girl. He sighed. He didn’t dare change the sheets in his guest bedroom. He didn’t even let Mor use the room when she came over last weekend— which he could bet created suspicion. No, that room was only open when he craved her scent. He even realised one of his shirts was missing. He shrugged it off thinking he would've left it somewhere and just couldn't find it. Once she came to his house, he was constantly thinking about her. So much that now he started pinching himself often. It was the only way he could stop thinking about her— by creating physical pain.

Cassian glanced at the clock on the wall. 2.30 in the afternoon. He walked to the refrigerator and checked his freezer compartment. Huh. No ice-cream. He sighed, grabbed his jacket and keys and headed to the mall to get an ice-cream with a pout. He’ll have to leave for Rhys and Feyre’s first anniversary only around 5.30 to prepare everything. He has enough time to get an ice-cream and probably hang out for some time. Good enough to stop thinking about her. Or so he thought.

***

Nesta wasn’t sore anymore. Her headache was gone almost a week after the incident. Her nose didn’t hurt anymore. Okay, maybe a little bit. It didn’t hurt unless she bumped her nose against something. Today, her nose was dully throbbing because she hit her nose against a pillow yesterday. A very, very soft pillow and yet it hurt this much.

The man’s first-aid and medicines were really helpful.

It really wasn’t fair that he excelled at basic first aid too. It wasn’t fair that he looked so good. With black tattoos swirling over generously muscled arms and shoulder-length dark hair curling at the edges and gloriously tanned skin and hazel eyes with minute flecks of green and brown when taken a closer look at and dimples and—

A quiet “Who is it?” snapped Nesta out of her moping. She looked up to see Gwyn walking to her.

“Who is what?” she asked, feigning nonchalance. Gwyn's pursed lips and glare conveyed that her act wasn't enough.

“Who are you thinking about?” Gwyn clarified.

“What makes you think I'm thinking about someone?” Nesta retorted.

Gwyn sat on the chair next to her and started assisting with classifying the unceremonious heap of books on the table to be kept back in its correct positions on its own rack.

“Nesta,” Gwyn sighed, “Clotho assigned you this stack almost an hour ago. And you've barely finished a third of the stack. Normally, you'd finish stacks bigger than this in an hour. So there's clearly something.”

“It wasn't anyone,” Nesta mumbled.

As usual, Gwyn saw through her lie. “You were twirling your hair,” she said flatly.

Heat inched up her neck. “I was not!”

Gwyn murmured a “uh-huh” and they lapsed into an easy silence till they were almost over.

Gwyn's eyes lit up as it normally did whenever she got an idea. “Is it him? The guy you came with that day?”

Nesta scowled, “How do you know…” she broke off when she realised which 'that day' Gwyn was talking about. Nesta fought back a blush. “No, no, this isn't about him. We don't know each other. Much. Like, we've seen each other a number of times? That's it. Nothing else.” Cauldron, the first part was a complete lie. But at least the rest are true. Will Gwyn happen to know his name? Maybe I ought to ask her. Or maybe I shouldn't.

She should, she decided. She cleared her throat. “Uh, Gwyn? Do you happen to know his name?”

Gwyn frowned and asked, “He hasn't told you yet?”

Nesta shook her head and answered, “No, we, uh, forgot. I guess. We haven't really exchanged names.”

Gwyn nodded and smiled. “Well, he is—”

“Gwyn!” a voice called. “You can't expect me to come over to you and beg for you to help me. Help me only if you want to or don't work under me.”

Gwyn’s eyes widened. She abruptly stood up and mouthed, “Merrill. I gotta go. I’m so sorry.” She all but ran to Merrill, the very strict librarian Gwyn was working under.

Nesta sighed and continued her work. There wasn’t much left so she was able to finish fast. She picked her things and left the library with a word to Clotho, heading to the mall.

***

The best way to keep whatever problems one has out of their mind was to also eat something they liked. So, ice-cream it was. After having his ice-cream, Cassian was aimlessly walking around the mall. Here, not more than a month ago, he met her for the first time. Almost a month ago. He huffed out a breath. The fact that he was pining for her this long blew his mind off. He—

“This is your fault— not mine. I’m not taking the blame for this,” he told her. They bumped into each other. Again.

Her lips quirked up. “It is kind of my fault. But blame this—,” she poked his chest, “— for making my nose hurt again.”

Just like that, his mood sobered. “How are you?” he asked.

She pointed at the cafe to her left. “Coffee?”

He nodded. Who was he to say no to her?

So they ordered coffee and talked about everything and nothing. He grinned and she laughed. He laughed and she smirked. He wouldn’t say he knew her well but he’d never seen her so carefree. Her laugh was like nectar for a starving man. Her eyes bright and welling up with tears from laughing.

“I don’t think I’ve laughed this much,” she said.

Cassian put a hand on his heart dramatically and said, “I know, I know. I’m very funny.”

Her lips kicked up a notch. She straightened as if she just realised something. He was about to ask when she drawled, “So I just realised that we still haven’t exchanged names.”

Oh. Right. Of course. “Yeah,” he nodded. “Usually, when people meet, they start with introductions but in our case we’ve literally bumped into each other three times and still we don’t know each other.” He shook his head and extended his hand. “Well, hello there. I’m—”

His phone rang in his pocket. Fuck. He was going to kill whoever was calling him now. He was so close to knowing her name. He pulled out his phone to see an incoming call from Azriel. He apologetically looked up at her and said, “I’m sorry. I wish I could choose not to take this call and instead kill this idiot but I can’t. Just give me a moment, okay?”

She nodded and he picked up his call.

“What do you want?” he hissed.

“It’s 5.30 already, you idiot. We’ve got to get the things ready for the party. Mor already went to get the cake and you’re not even at home. Where on all earth and hell are you?” came Az’s faint voice.

“15 minutes only? Mother above, I’m coming.” he said.

Az’s “make it fast” was the last thing he heard before hanging up. “I wish we could stay here and talk forever,” he said to her, “but I have something up in a short while and I totally didn’t realise time was passing this fast. I’m so sorry. It was nice talking to you. Really. And I wish we could meet again. Though without the bumping part.”

He grinned when she smiled and said, “Bye. Have a nice day.”

“You too,” he called back. He didn’t want to think he imagined the subtle look of disappointment on her face because hell, he was a walking epitome of disappointment right now.

taglist:

@shadowsinger07 @im-someone-i-guess @saltyfortunes @cressjacquine @julian-blackthorn-supremacy @champanheandluxxury @zemiraa @ladygabrielli1997 @nehemikkele @heartless--aromantic @sv0430 @ddsworldofbooks @irenethaleia @sjm-things @dontgetsalmonella

#writeblr #kepper's writing #sarah j mass #sjm #sjmaas #sjmverse #a court of thorns and roses #a court of mist and fury #a court of wings and ruin #a court of frost and starlight #a court of silver flames #acotar #acomaf #acowar #acofas #acosf #acotar au #nesta archeron #nesta #cassian #nesta x cassian #cassian x nesta #nesta and cassian #cassian and nesta #nessian #nessian fanfiction #nessian au #nessian modern au #gwyneth berdara #merrill acotar

[chicoriii]

Season 4, Episode 2 - Mensonge (Lies)

Welcome again. I had been logged out from Tumblr for the whole weekend, because I was afraid of untagged spoilers, as I've seen one screenshot here accidentally, fortunately it wasn't spoilerish. And I've watched the Lies today. Again without reading other's people opinion about the episode, so I probably write things that have been said before.

I enjoyed it more than Truth. But not because it's better written, I think the overall quality of both is similar. Lies is about characters I care about more, so it's natural that the episode is automatically more interesting to me. I dislike both Luka and Jagged (to be fair the only member of the Couffaine family I like is Juleka) and that would be hard to make me caring about them, the best thing I could say about any of those characters is that I tolerate them on screen. Sometimes. Don't get me wrong, Truth was the best episode for Luka and Jagged, but they are still dull and/or annoying to me. Creators need to develop son-father relationship more to make me interested in it, that arc was too shallow in Truth.

But the post is about Adrigami episode, not Lukanette one.

I'm surprised that we got only one not very long scene with civilian Marinette. But not surprised that she's still pining over Adrien. Just like Chat is pining over Ladybug. As I'm keeping saying, it's not gonna change. But really, Marinette thinks that Adrien's life is perfect? She should know that tight schedule could be a big problem and has she forgotten what terrible father is Gabriel? Of course she doesn't know details we know, but she should be aware that he isn't as good parent like her own. So probably her enamored brain can't see bad sides of life of her loved one. She still can't think rational when it comes to him. Another reason why she should stop putting him on a pedestal. We need some friendly Adrienette so badly, we need to see Adrien telling her more bad things in his life. He isn't used to complain, but I think he needs to tell someone the truth about his family life. I hope Marinette will be that person.

I had been tired of clown Chat in Truth, but this episode lets us to see the situation from his point of view and now I understand more why he behaves like that. I think that he tries to hide from Ladybug how much he miss spending time with her that way. He is aware that's because of her new responsibility and he doesn't want to make her feel bad for it. Those scenes were so sweet. How much Chat wants an Akuma to appear just to see his lady. Not very noble, but I can't blame him. It only shows that Adrien is a normal human being. We all are selfish from time to time and it's healthy (you only have to find a good balance, being as selfish as Chloé and as selfless as Luka is not good).

Geez, why they can't put the right title of the piece? That's a different composition than that one used back in season 2, but the smartphone's screen says the same. And none of them is actually Raindrop Prelude. This is Raindrop Prelude. They are not even any of Chopin's preludes. I won't be surprised if both are not Fryderyk Chopin's compositions either (although I haven't heard all the solo piano pieces composed by him, so I can't be sure). I love classical music, so I'd love to know what pieces Adrien's playing! By the way, I recommend to listen to all of the 24 preludes, they are usually very short but interesting compositions. If you're too lazy to listen to all, check out number 20 at least, that's a pure, very atmospheric, beauty. One of my favourites melodies ever created.

I have always thought that Adrigami has more chemistry and it's generally more entertaining to watch than Lukanette (sorry stans, but you probably don't even follow me and read my posts,  there's a reason why I'm warning that my blog is not Luka and Lukanette friendly in its description). I feel that in this episode as well. Absolutely it's not a perfect relationship and it can't be, as Adrien is still into Ladybug. It's clear that Kagami is the one who really cares, Adrien is more distant. It seems that he's abashed of Kagami's physical intimacy, like he can't be open to her when he's still in love with Ladybug. That was really sad to hear Kagami's words that she's lying to be more often with him and he lies to not spend time with her. But relationship can't work if only one side is invested in it and they both need to learn it. They have some things in common, I like how they spending time together, so I'm sure they would work much better as friends. I'm sorry for Kagami and I wish her a better boyfriend who would love her truly. In some way it was a repeat of Truth, as we've seen Adrien leaving Kagami all of sudden, because of Akuma's attacks, but this time it's not as heavily portrayed like it's not working only because of superhero responsibility, that I didn't like in the previous episode. Another reason why I liked how Adrigami is shown more.

I really, really loved that we've learnt something new about Kagami and that's amazing it's something I have in common with her. I'm really surprised, since she didn't seem to have an artistic soul before. I also love seeing she likes draw animals, it's like me, I'm trying practise it. I enjoy drawing animals (and creatures like Kwamis or Pokémon) more than humans. But at the same time I feel angry at her mother. How could she dare to say that Kagami isn't good enough? Trying to kill a child's hobby is always unforgivable. She's much better than me (I'm a little jealous, but that's not the first time when a teen has much better skill than me), but my family and some others I know in real life often say that I'm talented and some people try to convince me to take pay commissions. That’s me who knows the best than I'm not skilled enough to take money for my art (they don't know really good artists in person and they don’t draw themselves, so no wonder they are not aware that my works aren't that good they think). Maybe some day, but not now, so I only enjoy drawing gifts for others. I'm also got interested in a real French artist she mentioned - Henri de Toulouse-Lautrec and I've seen some of his works. Very good for Miraculous for mentioning artist like him, I have never heard about him before, but maybe French students learn about him in school.

Seeing Adrien making Chat's pose was hilarious. I'm sure it's food for true selves trope supporters, but I also agree with Kagami that both model poses and Chat's poses are not ALL Adrien poses. He's more than that. That seemed like he has problems with being natural when he's on the pressure. He's learned how to make model poses, but I also think that when he is in full clown mode is also an act. But that's a mask which he has putted all by himself. In which he tries to be as much different than his public image as he can. Of course being dorky is also a true Adrien side, but not all the time. Being just a cute and polite boy is also true him. It seems that Adrien is not aware of it.

Marinette's lucky charm bracelet is an akumatised object once more. That and the fact she was asking him what he was doing on the boat tell us that Kagami probably think that Adrien is in love with Marinette (it could make also her wonder what stop them from being together if she knows that Marinette likes him as well).

I also liked her reaction to imminent breaking up more. It's more human reaction in my opinion. Some anger, but not too much. She says she doesn't want to see him for a while and that's completely understandable. Adrien has broken her heart, so she need some time to take care of herself without being interrupted by him. I'm going to say something that could be seen controversial, but in my opinion her attitude is way more healthy than Luka's. He still waits for a girl who clearly likes another boy much, but she's trying to really give up on him. And I would like to see a scene in which she says him that Marinette is not worth his waiting, he should be open for another love instead. Uff, I was really worried that they might kill Adrien and Kagami characters. But nothing really bad happened in the episode between them, everything was in-character. Of course salters will still find reasons to hate Kagami, they can say she's possessive towards him (that's true to some extent, but I think it's not really toxic, as she's still cares about his true feelings).

I need to say that Lies is the worst S4 Akuma design we've seen till now. Riposte and Oni-chan were much better. Also the battle was the worst part of this episode in my opinion. It wasn't completely bad, but it felt somewhat boring to me. I definitely enjoyed fights against Truth and Furious Fu more. The thing about that I liked the most what how they made use of Fang.

So the season 4 version of Chat Noir's transformation theme is exactly the same they used in the Shanghai special. It wasn't obvious, since Ladybug's one is a different one than that in the show. I noticed that that Ladybug's theme feels more like a new composition which only uses parts of an original version, while Chat's is clearly "just" an arrangement of the theme we know since season 1. Maybe that's because it's supposed to symbolise that she has even more responsibility now, as she's the Guardian as well. Chat's role hasn't changed that much as hers. I also think the new arrangement sounds cooler, it's more electric guitar-driven. I can't wait to get any of the episodes in which there's his transformation sequence with 5.1 audio to rip it.

All three released episodes are nice for Ladynoir a lot, their scenes are all sweet and wholesome. It almost feel like Ladynoir is close to happen. But I feel that's just calm before the storm. Marinette hasn't reached to her worst moment yet. I'm sure Ladybug will have more breakdowns like that in the season 3 finale.

Three episodes aired and I'm not amazed by any of them. But I don't want to be salty, I'm not worried about that. That's true for season 3 as well, I enjoy the second part of the season more as well. It's important to save the best episodes for later. And I have never expected that I would love all the S4 episodes, despite of pre-release statements, it's impossible. I'm not disappointed. Yet. Just give me some Adrienette food. Please.

#miraculous ladybug #ml lies #ml season 4 #ml season 4 spoilers #ml spoilers #ml spoiler #chicoriii about S4 episodes #chicoriii #original post

[quetzalpapalotl]

I've been thinking about this a lot, but there's a key difference in the way Jro and Barber write Optimus.

When Roberts writes Optimus he is a figure of awe. Be it because he's doing crazy maneuvers that somehow work or by the strength of his principles, there's usually someone there to fawn over him. Even when he's not present, like in LL when Megatron mentions Optimus is usually with admiration.

But JRo is also willing to do more than that. Paint him a but more cynical or flawed, give him doubt. This combination is very reminiscent of how he wrote Optimus in Eugenesis, actually. But the key difference between him at Barber is that Jro's Optimus is always ultimately a figure of good. So for example, Chaos Theory which brings out a lot of his flaws, still gives the reassurance that at his core Optimus is still the idealistic Orion he was before getting the matrix. JRo even confirmed that his speech in the Death of Optimus Prime mirroring the Senate speech was meant to show he hasn't really changed.

But Barber is willing to question whether Optimus is a figure of good to begin with. He made an entire run with that as its theme. Jro made him a cop, which wasn't good but he still focused on his good intentions. Barber called him out on that and showed how much his good intentions mattered when he was still working for a corrupt regime. To be fair, Barber had to try and make a coherent character from everything else that went on on IDW.

But they still don't write him different enough that it looks like two different characters. Is hard to be sure who wrote what in Dark Cybertron, but JRo wrote the conversation between Rodimus, Orion and Magnus (which again has Orion in a shitty mood and being very cynical). So assuming he had a hand in the dead universe segments, those still look very phase 2 OP. He is having doubts, mad at the world and at himself, so he projects that on Rodimus, who despite everything still believes in him and makes Orion gain enough confidence to reclaim the Prime name. This is portrayed as a triumphant moment. And then later Barber would go on to question if Optimus being Prime is a good thing all over again.

And one funny thing about all of this is the outcome of the trial. Optimus does a dirty move and risks the safety of the LL crew by putting Megatron as captain which he didn't even have the authority to, just because he wants to believe in Megs so badly. Thing is that this kind of "I know what's better" assholery is completely in character for him. But I wonder how much Jro was considering that or if he was just focused on getting Megatron on the LL (and he knew Optimus was right because Megatron was meant to become better anyway) and didn't think much about the implications. Certainly none of the problems this causes ever get blamed on Optimus.

Maybe it really is just that Jro didn't get to do much with Optimus. But idk. I do love how he writes him, but I don't know if he would have had the guts to go as far as Barber went. Both in making him more coherent overall and things like "I am gonna help humams"/"Shut the fuck up, we don't want your help you colonizer condescending shit" or calling him a murderer at his own funeral, all of that despite maintaining his core good intentions. They were a good combo, but I'm glad Barber got most of it.

All I wish is that either would have given me more Zeta, lol

#quetzal rambles tf