#and the way his death had so much massive impact that like. so much on the server would have been so different. if it didnt happen.

[lucyrose191]

12 YEARS LATER, PART 2| S.O BLACK

Pairing; POA!Sirius Black x wife!reader

Summary; It’s been 12 years since Y/N last saw her husband, now it was time to see him for the first time, what could she say to him?

Warnings; Angst? Fluff, Sirius probably looks like death

HP/Marauders Master List

Sirius felt happiness and immense relief to see that the home you shared all of those years ago hadn’t changed at all, the garden was still well kept and from what he could see through the windows of the living room, it was still decorated the same way.

It was like a breath of fresh air being back in the place that held so many memories and loving moments; moments that had gotten him through the past twelve years of hell.

Knowing he was innocent had protected his sanity against the dementors but remembering those soft touches and electric kisses had kept him half happy.

He frequently dreamt of those slow mornings you spent together, that feeling of pure happiness he felt back then to wake up next to you, being able to see you first thing in the morning was the greatest gift he could have ever asked for.

He hadn’t really known how lucky he was back then to have those small moments; he had only realised when it had been taken away from him.

Sirius had thought about you every single day. He wondered how you looked, if you had moved on and created a family, if you hated him…

And now, his heart was pounding in his chest as he scratched at the door with his paw, knowing that you and Harry were merely on the other side.

He could hear your voice and whilst it was more matured and had lost that young playfulness he once knew, it was still you.

He waited. Waited. Waited.

As each minute passed by, his heart beat more erratic in his chest.

Eventually, the door opened.

It wasn’t you, it was Harry stood there with a massive smile on his face at the sight of his godfather.

Even though he knew there was no one around for miles, Sirius cautiously looked around before he transformed back into himself. "It’s good to see you again, Harry," his voice was hoarse and gruff from its lack of use but still held its friendly tone.

Harry launched himself into Sirius’ arms, catching the latter off guard and almost sending him tumbling off the sheer force of the impact but he welcomed the embrace with a chuffed laugh. "I’m glad you’re staying here, Padfoot."

Sirius mindfully patted Harry’s back as he pulled away, smiling slightly but Harry could tell that Sirius wasn’t really paying much attention, he could see the distraction in the way his godfather was looking over his shoulder into the house, as though hoping to catch sight of something, or someone. "Where’s your godmother?" He asked in a dreaded whisper.

Harry shuffled awkwardly as he looked back into the house before looking back to Sirius. "Uhm, she’s in the kitchen preparing dinner."

Sirius swallowed but nodded, releasing a nervous sigh as he looked to the ground then back up, not really knowing what to do.

Harry pursed his lips, feeling uncomfortable, knowing that you weren’t really impressed with the last minute bomb he dropped on you when you weren’t ready and that Sirius was at a loss to what he could say to you after over a decade of being without you. Harry had put the three of you in this situation and felt the responsibility to guide you through it.

"Why don’t you go to my room and you can get cleaned up and I can find you some clothes to wear then you can join us and have something proper to eat?" He suggested, sighing in relief when Sirius nodded, seeming to like that idea.

Your heart was pounding so hard in your chest that it was beginning to ache, the pain almost becoming unbearable as you heard footsteps behind you.

"It’s just me," Harry spoke, calming you instantly, causing you to turn around.

"Where is he?" You whispered, looking around wearing, you felt uneasy in your own house knowing that he was nearby.

"I took him upstairs to my room so he could shower, do you know if we have any clothes he could change into?" Harry asked.

You paused for a moment before speaking. "I do, actually." Thinking back to the boxes hidden away at the back of your wardrobe, you didn’t know if they’d still fit him but they were his.

"Could you grab them for me and I’ll take them to him?" You nodded and made your way out of the kitchen, leaving Harry to keep an eye on the food.

You could hear the sound of running water that came from Harry’s en-suite; he was so close yet so far and you had no idea how to feel about it.

You grabbed him clean socks, underwear, joggers and a t-shirt, even going as far as pulling out some of his old hair care products that used to crowd the bathroom counter knowing that Azkaban probably hadn’t been great for his hair and that would have broken your Sirius’ heart.

Sirius couldn’t fight his smile at the sight of the clothes and products that had been left on Harry’s bed for him, they were his, you had kept them all of these years, that had to mean something, didn’t it?

He had purposely taken his time getting dressed whether he was aware of it or not, he was trying to prolong the time it would take to see you, hoping he’d think of something he could say to you, he hadn’t thought of anything by the time he had finished so he just bit the bullet and slowly made his way downstairs.

The entire house was the way he had left it that Halloween night in 1981, only with the addition of photos of you and Harry from throughout the years, it made him smile to see that you had both had a nice life, the only thing that made him sad was that it had been just the two of you and he hadn’t been there with you.

The sound of your’s and Harry’s voices floating from the kitchen filled his heart, he could tell the bond between the pair of you was strong.

As soon as he hit the threshold of the kitchen, the chatter immediately stopped, the pair of you were already sat as the table with your plates in front of you; a large plate of food was sat in front of an empty chair opposite you, waiting for him.

The two of you made eye contact and every thought in his mind disappeared, all those words he wanted to say to you no longer mattered because everything that needed to be said was spoken just from looking into your eyes.

You were beautiful, just as you had been back then and you still had the same effect on him. The air was sucked from his lungs and he was punched in the face with the most overwhelming feeling of love he had ever experienced, the ring that had remained on his finger since you were nineteen was suddenly weighed down by his feelings for you that hadn’t disappeared in the slightest, even after so long apart.

His eyes shot to your left hand and his chest grew heavy at the lack of jewellery on your finger, he had to remind himself that he had betrayed you though, by leaving you that night with no telling of what he was doing, he had simply left and not returned.

"Padfoot," Harry’s voice cut through the tension between the two of you. "You should eat something," he pointed towards the plate that was piled with food.

Sirius pursed his lips and nodded weakly, carefully making his way to the table and sitting down, it was as though he thought any movement that was too fast would break something between you that hadn’t yet been fixed.

The three of you sat in the most intense silence; Sirius and Harry ate but you had quickly lost your appetite, the sight of him had just about torn you in two.

He was all skin and bone, every movement he made showed just how weak he was, the shaking of his hands a sign of his lack of nutrition.

Even though you hadn’t seen him before his shower you know it must have done him well because his skin was clean and he looked fresh, his facial hair was neatly groomed and his hair, though longer than you remember, was in its typical ringlets, a sharp contrast to the way he looked in the wanted posters you had seen.

Sirius was thankful to eat something that wasn’t wild animals he had hunted; food that was actually filling and would give him the energy he lacked.

He could feel the glances you kept sending him but kept his head down and his attention focused on his meal, he was afraid of what you would say to him.

Would you tell him you had moved on a long time ago and you were simply doing this for Harry?

The sound of you clearing your throat caused him to look up, Harry had disappeared without him noticing, it was just the two of you, your eyes looking into his with an emotion he couldn’t quite identify.

"I’m glad you’re okay," you spoke, voice ever so gentle.

Sirius dropped his fork and leaned back in his seat, focusing all of his attention on you. "I’m glad you and Harry are okay, it was all I ever thought about," he replied.

The roughness of his voice took you by surprise but you suppose it shouldn’t have considering the lack of people he had to speak to whilst he was imprisoned.

"A part of me was worried, knowing you were out there all alone," you confessed.

Your words made his heart swell but he knew better than to get his hopes up. "And the other? Worried that I wanted to hurt him?" He couldn’t mask the bitterness in his voice, the thought of you thinking he could do such a thing would break him.

"Worried that you didn’t want to actually, I was worried that everything the public knew about you was wrong and that you were out there all alone in the cold and wanting to do something good. Because it meant you had been locked up all those years for nothing and well, that worry was a reality."

Your words comforted him but there was one thing they had been on his mind since he had spoken to Harry for the first time. "You only told him about me at the beginning of the year when I escaped, why?"

You looked down at the table, tears in your eyes. "It was just me and Harry for years, I had all these photographs for him and all of these stories about James and Lily. There was a constant in the photos that he was curious about, the man with the cheeky smile and the long, curly hair. I just told him you were an old friend because I couldn’t tell the little boy he was back then that the entire Wizarding world thought you were the reason they were dead and I didn’t want to tell him my thoughts either because I wanted him to decide what he wanted to think when he was old enough and he did."

"And what were your thoughts?" He asked the dreaded question.

You smiled painfully and shook your head. "That you are the most irrational and dare I say irresponsible man that I have ever met in my life and you were overwhelmed with grief that night, so much so that you didn’t at all think straight about the outcome of your actions. You were just filled with betrayal and heartbreak that the only thing you cared about was getting revenge and I never blamed you for that, I only ever blamed you for losing the life you deserved to live, losing the life we could have shared."

Sirius’ eyes welled up at your words, both from relief that you never thought he did what he was accused of and guilt for the way he had acted that night, knowing that he had caused you a hell of a lot of loss, loss of the life you had wanted to build with him.

He was suddenly wracked with the emotion of the reality of what had actually happened and what he had missed out on, what you both had missed out on. "Did you-" he wanted to ask but you were already shaking your head.

"Absolutely not, there was never anyone else, it was only ever you and I never had to question it." There was such confidence in your words and it shot right into his chest, it was as though those words had broken the dam that had hidden his emotions because the flood gates had opened and Sirius buried his head in his hands as sobs wracked through his body.

You jumped up from your seat and made your way around the table, taking Harry’s vacant seat and pulling it right up beside Sirius’, wrapping your arms around him.

Sirius leaned into your body, allowing himself to be fully wrapped up in your arms.

It wasn’t long before his sobs stopped but he made no effort to move from your embrace, instead he relished in the familiar comfort that he had longed for and allowed himself to smile as he smelled the scent of the perfume you still wore and had worn since you were a teenager.

You pressed a kiss into his hair before resting your head against his. "I missed you so much." You assured him.

"I missed you, you and Harry were all I ever thought about, you got me through it, you’ve always been my strength." He muttered into your shoulder.

You closed your eyes at his words, not wanting to cry but it was hard, you had him in your arms again and it filled you with so many overwhelming emotions.

"You’re still so beautiful," you laughed at his muffled compliment, squeezing him tighter in response.

"I’m glad you’re here, Sirius. I’m so happy you’re back." You told him.

"Me too," he sighed, then waited for a moment before asking. "Where are your rings?"

You silently and reluctantly pulled away from him but remained close. You reached up and pulled out the chain that was hanging from your neck, hanging from the chain were two rings; one was a simple, thin, silver band and the other was a diamond encrusted band with a large, rectangle shaped, white sapphire in the centre.

"I knew Harry would ask questions because he’s so nosey but I wants to keep them on me," you explained.

Sirius nodded with a smile, happy you still kept them and wore them, his smile widened as he watched you remove the chain from your neck and remove the rings before placing them on your left hand where they belonged.

He moved forward and rested his forehead against yours, not necessarily ready to let go just yet.

Harry stood in the doorway of the kitchen, you were right, he was nosey but he didn’t really care. He was way too amazed at the sight in front of him, he could quite literally see the connection that was shared between his godparents and was beyond happy that the two of you were able to be reunited and hopefully make your way back to each other.

You would make your way back to each other, Sirius was your family and he was your home. The connection between the two of you hadn’t been lost in the time apart and it only made you more confident in the fact that Sirius Black was your soulmate, he was the other half of your heart and there’s no one else you would wait so long for or want to spend your life with.

You loved him more than anything and well aware that he felt the same way about you.

Tag list; those who asked to be tagged in part 2. @bullets-from-another-dimension @babyclea @mel-vaz @crowleythesexydemon @mspotterh

#sirius black x you #sirius black x y/n #sirius black x reader #marauders x reader #hp marauders #marauders fanfiction #marauders #harry potter x reader #harry potter fanfiction #padfoot x reader #moony wormtail padfoot and prongs #sirius black #harry potter #hp #hp fanfic

[gallusrostromegalus]

Hi, if the asks for AEIWAM are still open, can you share some more regarding the 12th division transitioning to taking over R&D, thanks to Urahara? Did the other divisions take it well, were there fights over boundaries/responsibilities/secrets? Individual divisions holding onto research directly relating to their remits? And how did Mayuri taking over from Urahara impact relations with other divisions?

Urahara proposing a dedicated research and development branch was not a particularly unexpected move, and a wildly applauded one.

His predecessor, now-Royal-Guard Hikifune, had done extensive research and development on her own when she developed both the modern Gikon and the Mod Souls like Kon. The 4th was massively overworked but still doing their own medical research. The Kido corps had been doing their own R&D writ: spells for ages. The 7th division had been tracking death and soul statistics like where souls reincarnated in the Rukongai and who went to hell and why for centuries. "Science" is a very strong word for what the 11th was doing re: destruction, but by golly they were doing a lot of it.

So Urahara's idea to develop a cross-division group dedicated to connecting existing research and developing new lines of inquiry from there was an extremely logical step and one pretty much everyone regarded as a good move.

---

Everyone, except Aizen.

See, Aizen had been doing his own little experiments with creating and perfecting the Hogyoku and those experiments involved a shitload of murder and other crimes, not to mention the whole treason thing, and Aizen was worried that if Kisuke managed to say, actually collate and look over the Rukongai crime stats Aizen had been hiding or read up on the Kido corps work, he might be JUST smart enough to figure out what Aizen was up to.

So Aizen made sure that when they got caught, that the experiments he'd been running would look like Kisuke's work :)

I think Aizen also had a significant hand in making sure it was the literal clown Mayuri who got the job after Urahara fled. There were definitely better candidates to become the Gotei-13's quartermain, but I think Aizen either discouraged them, or figured out how to make Mayuri look way more sane than he actually was to the other captains when the vote came.

Mayuri was a disaster for R&D. Not only were his scientific methods dubious at best, none one the other divisions trusted him with their work, and all of them became a lot more secretive and paranoid.

The 4th resumed it's own medical research, which was slow because of all the other work the 4th needed to do as well. The 7th kept its statistics under lock and key lest Mayuri get funny ideas about killing people to measure things faster. This new cloaked way of doing business allowed Mayuri to engage in horrors that actively got in the way of progress. Like recruiting the top 10% of the academy's graduating class for his division and then using them as guinea pigs and/or explosives.

Aizen: All According to Keikaku :)

---

In AEIWAM, not all hope was lost.

Before he was a shinigami, Kaname Tousen was a Librarian.

It was all he ever really wanted to be- when he came to the seireitei it was entirely to investigate his sister's death. He had no intention of enrolling in the academy, or pursuing rank.

Aizen has a way of derailing people's lives.

By force, when necessary.

By pounding 44 magical nails into Tousen's spine and carving command kanji into his shoulders and inflicting a vile curse on him to force Kaname into being his co-conspirator, his own personal R&D, and his entertaining puppet, if necessary.

Well,

Maybe Aizen is having a little bit more fun than strictly "necessary".

Aizen might have cursed Tousen into silence and obedience, but he can't stop Tousen from keeping his own records. Meticulous notes about every excursion he is made to take, every crime he is forced to commit, every horrific act Tousen does through tears- everything is recorded, documented, and safely stored in triplicate in several locations and formats.

In fact, Aizen comes to rely on those records- Aizen is very good at Lying and Kido and Hubris but that is the extent of his intellectual prowess. He relies on Gin to keep track of what everyone else is doing, and on Tousen to do all the scheduling, lab work, provisions and actually keeping the aarancar in line.

And Kaname takes advantage to press the curse whenever he can- he was close, he was so. Fucking. Close! To getting the whole scheme exposed during Turn Back The Pendulum.

He tried. He tried and tried to say it when Yamamoto interrogated him, to confess his sins and bring Gin and Aizen down with him, to make himself understood.

-Who did this? Who killed captain Hirako?

-I know them! I know, but I can not say!

It's all Kaname can manage before the curse retaliates, and almost strangles him to death to keep his silence, invisible to Yamamoto because of Aizen's illusions.

---

...after the nature of the curse is revealed, Yamamoto listens to the recording of that interrogation and weeps. The captains are the closest thing he has to children. Yamamoto hears this man who is almost his son, screaming, begging him to understand -

Not "I don't know"

Not "I will not say"

"I know, but I can not say."

---

So Kaname bides his time, keeps his records and tries to distract himself form his situation by drawing what conclusions he can.

After the Winter War, there is some debate as to what's going to happen to R&D.

Mayuri is in a jar, battling for control of his body.

Nemu refuses to admit he's out of action. Akon refuses to be promoted.

Kisuke or whoever does run the 12 will be too busy shovelling leftover war crimes out of the basement to actually run R&D.

Yamamoto has a long-standing agreement with Unohana that if he makes her take on One More Thing, he will not get the privilege of dying.

Ukitake is running the Kido corps, but he's also already got a foot in the grave.

Yamanoto isn't sure he can trust anyone else with lab equipment.

" ...Tousen." he says, nonchalant, visiting him in the hospital. "You seem to be rather accomplished at record-keeping and lab work."

"Last time you promoted me while I was in the hospital after a catastrophe, it extended my recovery by a solid five years and lead to an even greater one. No. Tell Kisuke to buck up and run R&D, it was his damn idea in the first place."

"Yes, obviously." Yamanoto says as though he had been planning that at all. "-but the court guard still needs to be supplied, so if Kisuke is running R&D, who is running the 12th?

"Muguruma."

"Pardon?"

"Kensei Muguruma might be the second-worst boss I've ever had but he is rigorously punctual, has an incredible work ethic, and can be trusted to stick to rules and regulations to the letter. He's a rigid, grouchy, hard ass, and a terrible match for the ninth, but he'd make an excellent quartermain." Kaname sighs.

Yamamoto ponders that for a bit.

"Also, he's running the newspaper over my dead body." Kaname elaborates. "He's contracted horoscope brainrot from Mashiro, I'm afraid."

"He may attempt to dispute that he should be running the Ninth as his prior demotion was unlawful, as is his right." Yamamoto nods. "It would be resolved by some kind of combat."

"I've gutted him once, I'll do it again." Kaname grunts and Yamamoto barks a laugh.

"I believe your judgement is sound, and will abide by your recommendation." Yamamoto nods, patting Kaname's hand. "I will inform Urahara and Muguruma of their new responsibilities."

"...Thank you, sir." Kaname mumbles, listening to Yamamoto open his notebook and write something down. "For your trust in me, and not promoting me again."

"Hm." Yamamoto nods.

To-Do: Update last will and testament in regards to successor choice. He writes.

#aeiwam #an elephant is warm and mushy #bleach #bleach fanfic #kaname tosen #kisuke urahara #mayuri kurotsuchi #kensei muguruma #don't worry kensei will be fine he's got Mashiro to translate for him

[karmarox]

Kallamar the Coward

Thinking about Kallamar in Cult of the Lamb, with how the lore and even his own siblings taunt him for being a coward and he even tries to bargain and sway you away from getting your revenge and killing him, even ready to throw Shamura under the bus to save himself, but then when you finally push him into a corner and he's forced to fight he not only busts out a bunch of weapons and starts quad-wielding them but he was once regarded by the fandom as being among the hardest bosses of the base game.

It got me thinking, was he always like this? Narinder certainly thinks so, but there's bias there. It's easy to just write him off as always being a mess like this...

But there's no denying he's the second in power after Shamura, Anchordeep is known for its beauty, he takes personal pride in the way he took care of his cult/area, and when in Purgatory out of all the bishops he's notably the most lucid/aware of where he is.

So I present this: After Narinder's sealing, Shamura was in no state to lead or give orders. The Bishops all had massive injuries that refused to heal. Who out of the 4 would immediately be assumed to be the one to take a leadership role? Who had comparatively more "manageable" injuries to take care of the other 3? And who would you assume is most likely to have medical experience to at least try to lessen the impact of all of their wounds?

Kallamar, Pestilence and Cure.

Early on after The One Who Waits was sealed away, Kallamar would have had to effectively take over the Old Faith while also caring for a broken beyond repair older sibling, who had always been the "Wise" one that the others blindly followed, yet was now barely even there at the best of times, and two younger siblings, one who was now permanently blind (and young/weak enough that they couldn't even muster a single Curse towards the Lamb before being crushed within days of their resurrection even years after the sealing, so just imagine how new to godhood they were back when this all started), and another who had had her throat torn out, all while downplaying his own wounds.

What if, then, at some point, he simply broke?

He resents Shamura, even potentially sincerely blames them for causing the entire thing (which Shamura confesses to), both leading them to turn on Narinder and also for leading everyone to killing the Lambs. He's still fond of Leshy, but from how quick to take charge Heket is, it's clear that after he proved unable to take the stress of it all, she was next in line as the "leader" of The Old Faith. There's gotta be some resentment there on both ends because of that, particularly with how quick he is to criticize how she took care of her territory.

And then compare how he is as a bishop to how he is as a follower. I think it's very very interesting that he goes from a dirty coward and absolute pathetic mess of anxiety and fear, to pleading directly to his own executioner for help, to being almost perfectly happy and content to simply be a Follower of the Lamb's cult. The others (minus Shamura, due to their condition) are resentful and quick to give sharp words to the Lamb, but Kallamar? It's like all his anxiety is gone with his godhood. He has nothing to fear anymore, and is almost ridiculously quick to be friendly to the Lamb and share his tastes in decor and pride in appearances with them. Not even in the "kissing up" way, he talks like they're equals. Is this what Kallamar was like, before everything? Is he actually HAPPIER as a Mortal now that all of the responsibility and fear of death is gone? Even secretly grateful?

There's no denying his cowardice. There's no denying it crossed a line when he was ready to betray Shamura when his nerves reached their limit. There's no denying that as much as he'd like to believe that he is absolved of guilt for The Old Faith's sins simply because he was just doing what Shamura told him to even if he claims he thought it was a bad idea.

But you also have to wonder what caused that cowardice to form, and what other feelings motivate his actions besides fear.

(tldr: sad squid was not ready to become the responsible one, especially not after going deaf and being traumatized. Has a mental breakdown halfway through raising the others due to not being able to actually deal with going deaf or being traumatized because it turns out being the god of physical health is different from mental health. Little sister ends up having to step up and be the mom now. Their relationship never recovered because of it, and he now blames the eldest for failing them and also for his own failures to cope. As a bonus developed an attachment to his own killer out of some weird warped perception of them "rescuing" him from his stress and then from death itself.)

#Cult of the Lamb #Kallamar #character study #Headcanon #Lore #my stuff #my writing #story #storytelling

[bambi-kinos]

I just came across your analysis of However Absurd and thought it was lovely. I'm curious, as someone who thinks John and Paul had some kind of romantic or sexual relationship, what is your take on The Lovers That Never Were? Is he using the word "lovers" to mean "partners"? I have always interpreted it to mean that Paul knows there was something there but it never happened. Every time I start to be convinced that they were together in some way I think of this song and the devastating way Paul sings it in the demo and the heartbreaking fact that he still felt it that intensely 13 years after John's death.

Oh wow thank you! The server had a lot of fun discussing that, if it's good it's because I had a little help from my friends heheh (─‿‿─) ♡

I ended up writing a massive novel in response to all this so I hope you enjoy reading it heheh. For server members, I've pulled some quotes from my previous Discord essays on this topic so you'll see some stuff that you've read.

tl;dr - I don't think "The Lovers That Never Were" contradicts the secret relationship theory at all! I think it compliments it very well actually.

In order to get into All That, I will outline how I perceive what their relationship was built on and how they reacted to it. I should note that I don't consider this definitive. It's important to remember that we all have unique interpretations of John and Paul because of our experiences and our personal POVs. There is no single answer until Paul decides to tell us what happened and/or Sean publishes John's diaries (written and audio). Until that happens, we are all forced to look at the same material and draw our own conclusions which will naturally be shaped through our personal perceptions. Some of us are older and are much closer to the original culture that John and Paul were raised in; some of us are younger and grew up in a much more LGBT+ positive environment. This naturally has an impact on how we interpret John and Paul's relationship.

I say this because I know my POV on John and Paul is a bit different from everyone else's. I'm a historian by training but part of being a historian is the understanding that you will never fully understand the events as they happened because your personal viewpoint and inherent bias is simply too strong. But that's okay because this is a part of humanity that we all share, yeah? With that understanding LET'S GO!

Paul My view on Paul is that he's always understood that he's different from other men. I doubt he could put a name to it until very recently. Paul has synesthesia, he's bisexual, he connects to music in a savant-like way, he's neurodivergent which is why he takes criticism so hard, and all of that would still be true even if he didn't have left over emotional issues from his mother dying the way she did + his fraught relationship with his father.

Keep in mind that circumstantial evidence points to the idea that Paul orchestrated the meeting at the fête! He realized he had a mutual friend with John in Ivan (who is to say that he did not meet Ivan at a QM performance and had that mental realization there?) He went through Hot Girl Summer before and after the fête, wanting to be fucking fit so that he wasn't embarrassed to meet John! I did the same thing when I had a crush as a teenager!

So with all that in mind, imagine this: you're Paul McCartney. You met John Lennon barely a year after Mary died. You turned 15 on June 18th, 1957 and met John at the fête on July 6, 1957. At some undetermined point before this garden party you saw a beautiful boy on the bus and began riding it obsessively hoping the Teddie boy would get on it. You followed him to the chippie and stood in line behind him…allegedly because you thought "oh wow he looks so cool." Marky Mark thinks (and I agree) that you may have even followed John to at least one Quarry Man show before the fête. Is this 'normal' behavior? Or is this the unhinged behavior of a teenager with a massive crush? The kind that comes about when you see a cute boy with red hair, and red is the color you associate with happiness, and then you find out that he plays guitar just like you and you follow him around until you see one of his performances and he's so good he knocks you back and then someone says "hi Paul, I didn't know you liked music!" behind you. And you realize that it's your friend and that you can meet the boy you have a crush on through this friend. You just need to lose weight and grow your hair out first.

When did Paul first see John, anyway? Before he turned 15 I'd wager.

I submit the idea that Paul has been in love John Lennon for his entire life. It will be 67 years of love when this July 6th rolls around. John was making a name for himself, he was known around town as "that Lennon." A minor celebrity like we’ve all had in our hometowns. Paul loved music. Before the internet you would go to the town square to hear a band.

Paul did that. Saw John. Pursued him with intent. When John went to Gambier Terrace to be with Stuart, Paul made a nuisance of himself showing up at their parties and playing the proto-version of "Michelle" in front of the girls…and John.

I love you, I love you, I love you That's all I want to say Until I find a way I will say the only words I know that You'll understand

I don't think that a 15 year old Paul McCartney would explicitly label his feelings for John as 'love' or a 'crush' but I do think that's what happened. When you're a teenager, a crush can express itself in many different ways. I used to have a big crush on a girl who was a volleyball player at my junior high school…that expressed itself as intense admiration. I even told one of my friends that I thought she was 'really cool.' It wasn't until later that I realized that I had a crush on her.

But I think that Paul has always known that he's 'different' and that he wasn't like other boys while growing up. Part of his touchiness about his looks comes from being bullied but I also think that he's a lot more self aware than he pretends to be. I think he realized relatively fast how he felt about John (maybe once John picked up with Stuart and Cynthia at art college.) I think he carried that with him for years hence his anguished response to being jilted in Hamburg and how furious he was at John for running off to Spain with Brian. He didn't realize it immediately but once it sticks to you then it fucking sticks. I think that Paul has done a lot internal wrestling with being a bisexual man and what that means for him and that he has been wrestling with it for decades. I think he was fully in the grip of that wrestling as he and John's friendship began growing and Paul realized what was happening to him. He does enjoy women but I also think that he felt it was necessary to pursue them heavily as a young man to camouflage himself.

I don't think a day has gone by since 1957 where Paul has not known what he was. What exactly that means for him…is up for interpretation. That's where the gray area is. But IMO Paul has almost always known that he's sexually attracted to other men and that John woke this in him. The big question for Paul is what he should do about it.

John There's been a lot written about John and his sexuality that I won't rehash here but truthfully I think John was in a similar place to Paul in knowing that he's always had a sexual preference for other men. John was a lot less comfortable about it though. Having unprotected sex with his girlfriends was, IMO, John trying to subconsciously engineer a situation that would "fix" him via an accidental pregnancy necessitating a marriage.

Of course that didn't do anything because it never does. John still felt chemistry with Paul when they met at the fête, with that quote about them "circling each other like cats." IMO John felt something immediately -- it's not entirely clear what -- though I don't think it "love at first sight" like with Paul. IMO their friendship, while still rooted in that chemistry, developed very naturally for John and he got to enjoy a platonic relationship with Paul before he put it all together. I say this because John saw Paul as a kid, not a peer, and that this endured for their lives in Liverpool pre-Hamburg. I struggle to imagine John or Paul deliberately inciting sexual or romantic contact during that time period aside from the group wank sessions (which were really trolling sessions from John.) Like, when Julia died, John went out and sought peers at art college like Cynthia and Stuart, other students his age. John and Paul bonded over losing their mothers and Paul has that quote about pranking people with the "oh yeah…my mum's dead thanks <3" bit but it also seems like John didn't want to be around that all the time. He lost his Uncle George and then his mother, he was starting to think that he was a death-curse on men in his family and that he brought suffering with him. He wanted to be away from that so he took a vacation from music to get a chance of scenery. Which meant putting Paul in a place of competition with Stuart and Cyn but I don't think John was thinking of that initially (though he exploited the situation later.)

Then Hamburg happens and they run wild. I have an entire meta about this that you can read here but I genuinely think John did not see Paul as a full fledged adult and potential sexual partner until they were in Hamburg in the red light district. I think that something happened there that we don't know about, that it's tied up in Stuart deciding to be with Astrid, John jilting Paul, Paul saying "fuck you I'm done" and getting a job at the coil winding factory in Liverpool after being deported, John tracking Paul down and spending weeks (probably) groveling and then giving Paul an ultimatum to come back to the Beatles. All of that screams 'I just realized I'm in love with my best friend and I'm freaking the fuck out' to me lmao.

John and Paul Of course something else changed after that too and John and Paul ended up becoming so close that even the Liverpool squares around them noticed. I think that whatever was going in their relationship, it started here. In the place where John and Paul were equally distraught with each other, the future of the band was uncertain, and Paul wanted a sign of commitment from John so that he didn't feel like he wasted years of his life. And of course John always felt compelled to be the man Paul wanted him to be so he treated Paul to a vacation in Paris which was so life affirming for them that it stayed with them for the rest of their lives. IMO the Paris vacation was explicitly romantic for them.

I think a switch flipped in 1961 and they went from "messing around" to "there's something there." It erupted in Paris and they showed each other more understanding and care then they expected from each other. John did sexy pin up poses for Paul in a bed that they shared; John remembers how the French held each other in their arms and just kissed each other, lovingly; Paul felt that he discovered the answer and that all those big name philosophers had nothing on the self realization he came to inside himself. Paul even took a photo of John that high lighted his package! Thanks to @louiselux for pointing this one out:

The thing was all the kissing and the holding that was going on in Paris. And it was so romantic, just to be there and see them, even though I was twenty-one and sort of not romantic. But I really loved it, the way the people would just stand under a tree kissing; and they weren’t mauling at each other, they were just kissing. — John Lennon, Playboy interview 1980

“We were like Paris existentialists. Jean-Paul Sartre had nothing on us. Sod ‘em all - I could write a novel… It was all inside me. I could do anything now.”

Paul McCartney, Anthology

Something happened in Paris and it wasn't just them getting haircuts and John buying Paul milkshakes. There was commitment there. And then the spell comes over them again when they return in January 1964:

The first night, John and Paul stayed in their suite, listening to records and reading fan mail. George, who had been signed for 100 pounds a day by the Daily Express to write of his experiences in Paris, went to a nightclub in the Place Pigalle.

Back in the City of Light, John and Paul slept till three o'clock in the afternoon. That much everybody agreed on.

Quote by Vincent Mulchrone from Daily Mail: George Harrison was astir early, but John Lennon and Paul McCartney slumbered on until frantic photographers forced them at lens point into the Champs-Élysées.

Derek Taylor (a British journalist) wanted to know why the Beatles slept so much. "My office wants to know what they're doing in Paris, so they'd better be doing something."

Love Me Do by Michael Braun

But I know what you're thinking. "What the hell does this all have to do with these two songs?"

And my reply is to keep a few things in mind:

Paul takes criticism and slights incredibly hard, possibly overreacting in some places and letting them overwhelm him mentally.

He never got over Barcelona, he never stopped resenting Stuart and Brian, he never got over John pulling the rug out from under him regarding the order of their names in the song credits. He contemplated committing suicide by smothering himself while he was in Scotland recovering from John leaving him.

John Lennon had a baby with a woman in the middle of all this. Julian Lennon was born April 8, 1963, conceived in July 1962, less than a year after Paris.

However Absurd & The Lovers That Never Were I listened to "However Absurd" and "The Lovers That Never Were" in that order. My immediate reaction is that these are both the same kind of song: they are both expressing sadness and frustration with John. This is a common theme with Paul's post-1980 John songs. What I find interesting is that they depict different though related gripes regarding John. In "However Absurd" Paul is expressing his longing for a cottagecore fantasy romance with John and then expressing frustration at John mocking him for it:

Ears twitch, like a dog Breaking eggs in a dish Do not mock me when I say This is not a lie

But in "The Lovers That Never Were" Paul expresses a different gripe: frustration that John won't commit to him and "anticipating" the break up that he secretly knew was coming ever since 1963 when John abandoned him and his own son to play patty-cake with Brian in Spain:

I hang patiently on every word you send Will we ever be much more than just friends? As for you, you sit there playing this game You keep me waiting

When all of the clocks have run down All over the world We'll be the lovers that never were

For as long as the sun shines in somebody's eyes I believe in you baby, so don't tell me lies For as long as the trees throw down blossoms and leaves I know there will be a parade of unpainted dreams

And I know dear, how much it's going to hurt If you still refuse to get your hands dirty So you, you must tell me something… I love you Say goodbye or anything

All of the clocks have run down Time's at an end If we can't be lovers we'll never be friends

John's penchant for disregarding Paul's feelings and even weaponizing them against Paul; the dashing of Paul's cottagecore dreams that were made and solidified in Paris; the fact that John, no matter what his intentions, could not get his shit together and commit to Paul no matter what he may have felt. These two songs are not contradictory to one another. Paul's idea of "commitment" looks very much like what he had with Linda and John in 1967: sharing a home, sharing a bed, being together every day, preferably somewhere green and remote. Exclusivity. Remember that Paul deliberately sabotaged his relationship with Jane Asher by nailing a woman in their bed when Jane came home, knowing perfectly well that he was breaking their exclusivity agreement.

That IMO, is what makes someone a lover and not just a friend you have sex with and secretly pine for. No cheating, or at least your agreed version of it. No disrespecting the relationship. Continuously being together. What did John do instead of this?

I think that Paul started out his "relationship" with John carrying high hopes and then watched them crumble to dust, over and over, because John simply did not take him seriously. He got Cynthia pregnant, he ran around on Paul with Brian, he had the nerve to flip out on Jane Asher when Paul brought her around when he was the one who couldn't stay faithful to Cynthia.

My hot take is that these songs demonstrate that Paul simply could not imagine John ever truly committing to him and treating him as a true partner. The homophobia and yes ~society~ is in there too but Paul was happy to flout this when it came to just about anyone else, traipsing all over France with Fraser and Mal. The difference is that he flat out didn't trust John. Being jilted for Stuart in Hamburg loomed too big in his head. Cynthia and Julian loomed too big in his head. Brian and Barcelona, realizing that John would happily betray whatever agreements or understandings he had with Paul simply to screw Paul out of a deal, loomed too big in his head. I think in particular its Barcelona that made Paul think John didn't value any of their professed ideals. John broke Paul's heart years before Yoko came along.

He didn't trust John. Fatalism is easier than taking control of your own life sometimes, and in Paul's mind there was no reason to believe John was genuine. Like, Paul knew John very well! He had very good reason to think that John was simply not serious about him. And John, no matter what his intentions were, proved that correct over and over and over and over.

So ultimately, I think that's what these songs are about. The melodies don't necessarily reflect this when I listened to them but I think that "The Lovers That Never Were" in particular is juxtaposing bitter wink-and-nod lyrics with an oddly perky tune. It's Paul laughing at himself for ever thinking John was willing to commit. He's mocking himself because while he allowed himself to get swept up in the dream of a possible genuine relationship with John, he knew deep down that it would go the way it did. That John would find a reason to get tired of him and abandon him. And then when Yoko came along, that's exactly what John did. Paul fatalistically accepted that the time had come and John met Paul's low expectations of him.

The Weight I don't think John and Paul necessarily planned to have a secret relationship. It seems more like they bundled the sexual/romantic stuff into their "thing" where it was just part and parcel of who they were and what they did. "It's only gay if the balls touch" etc. At some point that changed but Paul became convinced early on that it wouldn't work out so he didn't acknowledge his own secret desires and dreams. There was no roadmap between him and John about where they were taking this exactly and how they were going to make it work. He had sex with John and even engaged with romantic actions with John, hoping against hope that something would change and he would be proven wrong, but then John would be careless and Paul would collapse into hurt.

And oh yeah: Paul never, ever discussed any of this with John Lennon. He never told John how hurt he was because he didn't want to put up with John's derision. He felt devalued and lost and in typical Paul fashion he chose to ignore this for years and never bring it up, forcing it to come out in bizarre nonsensical actions when he inevitably boiled over. Why would he choose to confront it? He made sure to set up several safety nets to catch him! Jane and the Ashers, striking out on his own with "The Family Way" score, rubbing John's face in his escapades with other males as a way to go 'see, I don't need you just like you don't need me. How about THAT?'

I don't think John ever intended to hurt Paul as badly as he did. He thought that if Paul was upset about something then he would know via their ~telepathic connection.~ I think that he deliberately overlooked warning signs because he felt intensely guilty about certain actions he took (God only knows which ones) and that he helped himself not see Paul's hurt. I do think if he had the slightest idea of what was going on in Paul's head then he would have changed tactics immediately out of fear of losing Paul forever. But at heart John was a coward and if he didn't want to see something was wrong then he wouldn't see it unless something forced his hand. Like say, having his former best friend/ex-lover look him in the eye and go "I can write new songs" and kill The Beatles in a court of law. (And of course once he realized what he had done, years after the fact, it was too little too late. He couldn't take it back. How do you make up for inflicting that much hurt on someone that you supposedly care for? This paralyzed John for years.)

This was obviously a huge mistake and I think it was one of the landmines that blew their relationship up. Paul allowed his distrust and bitterness to overwhelm him. He should have been honest with John about his feelings; maybe not immediately but when they were able to look back with some perspective. Paul should have realized that their relationship could take heat. He should have trusted John more and if he had then John could have risen to the occasion. Everything could have been different. No more "I believe in you baby, so don't tell me lies." No more "Do not mock me when I say/This is not a lie."

He even expresses this in a third song, one that IMO puts this entire thing into perspective and ties these three songs together with a neat bow. "This One":

Did I ever take you in my arms, look you in the eye Tell you that 'I do?' Did I ever open up my heart And let you look inside?…

Did I ever touch you on the cheek Say that you were mine, thank you for the smile? Did I ever knock upon your door Try to get inside?…

Please take note of the bolded "Tell you that 'I do'!" Paul's deepest regret with regards to John is not trusting him more. He wishes that he had opened up to John about his hurt and how he angry he was that John was devaluing their relationship. That he wanted to commit to John but that he was scared John wouldn't say 'I do' back.

From John's POV he's just being John; he's looking out for the band. God knows he tried to be what Paul needed him to be but he got mixed signals and inconsistent behavior and Paul's ice queen behavior frustrated him to no end. This resulted in an endless circle of "fuck you/no no no, fuck YOU/well fuck you then!/fuck you" that ended up killing what they had.

But John is guilty in this too. He never made himself accountable to Paul. He didn't explain his actions. He acted rashly and selfishly and then was shocked when it blew up in his face. He didn't consistently act like he loved Paul. He took Paul for granted and told himself that he was doing the right thing, because changing your behavior is very very hard. He didn't let Paul in when it mattered.

Did you ever take me in your arms Look me in the eye, tell me that 'you do?'

As Paul grew up and he started to come to grips with the "What happened" of it all, maybe he realized that he had procrastinated. That he put off what mattered most because he couldn't bear to make himself vulnerable as a young man. Maybe he was waiting for a perfect moment to open himself up to John knowing perfectly well it would never arrive, a common delaying tactic for insecure and avoidant people. Not admitting that the perfect moment would never come and that he had to extend trust to receive it in return.

If I never did it, I was only waiting For a better moment that didn't come There never could be a better moment Than this one, this one

I think he's still angry at John for multiple betrayals, slaps to the face, and devaluing the specialness of their relationship and their affection for each other. But I also think that Paul is angry at himself for not trusting John, for not working harder at their relationship. He also delivered multiple betrayals and slaps to the face to John, feeding John's insecurity and fears of abandonment. Making a mockery of their relationship and how special it was. Paul has been doing public penance for this ever since John died, which snapped everything into perspective and he finally realized the full scope of his own screw ups.

Because it took two to destroy a relationship this intense and this special. If Paul did not know that before...

Well. He does now.

#the beatles #mclennon #john lennon #paul mccartney #mclennon meta #my meta #mclennon server #this was a really fun ask anon thank you!

[entomolog-t]

The Shadow We Cast - 4

Two guys and too many beers leads to more shenanigans.

- - - -

Previous Chapter: Chapter 3

Next Chapter: Chapter 5 (Coming Soon)

Word count: 2998

CW: Adult language, substances (beer/drinking), animal death (fishing/hunting)

It was beyond crazy to me that the most normal I’d ever felt was drinking beers with a weird little man who stood no more than, what, 6 inches tall at most? How many years had it been since the last time I had this much fun? The last time I felt like I could talk and laugh this freely? It just felt so… normal? The thought seemed ridiculous- I mean, the situation was anything but… and yet here I was, thoroughly buzzed and listening intently as if we were old friends.

Sal paraded around the table, reenacting some grand adventure I could only wrap my head around with the help of however many tallboys I’d downed over the past few hours. Tales of hunting monstrous beasts and climbing unfathomable heights. He wove wild stories of a world so foreign yet so familiar… quite literally a world in my backyard.

As I nursed another drink, Sal set the scene, recounting a day-long trek he'd made out to the lake. Mist rose off the water as loons called to one another, their haunting voices echoing off the calm water. He watched intently as they slipped under the water, barely even a ripple disturbing the surface of the lake.

As if he was painting a picture in my mind, I sat enthralled, feeling as if I could feel the crispness of the water washing away the heat of the sun as he spent the day swimming in the shallows. The way he spoke… It didn't feel like I was imagining his retelling from my perspective- but his own. His perspective felt like something … almost fantastical.

"I tried to lure some of the minnows, but I couldn't get close enough to spear them without them darting off.” As if still wielding a spear he eyed the non existent minnows, patiently following some unseen motion as he remained poised to strike. “The bigger minnows seemed slower, but they wouldn't come near shallow enough. I ended up using some of the dried grub rations I'd brought with me as bait, and boy did it work like a charm. I swam I bit farther out with the bait and-"

Spear raised, I could practically see the imaginary impact- watching as the massive fish- or minnow, thrashed against the sharpened twig. I was enthralled- the way his muscles moved with the motion was almost… intimidating, bringing forth thoughts of him human sized, spearing a monster of a fish while swimming in some dangerous Amazonian river. 

“The damn thing was a bitch to swim with,” he groaned, annoyance clear on his face, “For one- it was heavy. But worse,” Sal huffs, “It was still moving.” Despite the exasperation on his face in recounting the ordeal, the man’s face couldn’t help but return to grinning. 

“So then I’m swimming back, right? Honestly more like flailing with the stupid minnow in tow, but I’m keeping above water for the most part… but I keep hearing this clicking… almost squeaking noise? Weirder yet- it's coming from below me.” He pauses, lowering his voice and I’m quite literally reeled in by his story, leaning forward on the edge of my seat. 

“Then- whoosh!” 

Sal grabs at the air. My heart jumps in my chest as the man’s hand lashes out just inches from my face. 

“This monstrous bastard of a creature - absolutely huge,” He pauses, shooting me a cheesy grin, “Second only to you, big man.” I snort and Sal picks right up where he left off, “It was all murky brown with thick these thick… whiskers? And it just sucks me into its mouth with this horrific gulp. Next thing I know I’m being dragged underwater, half in its mouth, pounding on its head just hoping it’ll let me go if I hit it hard enough.”

My breath hitches, a shudder running through me as I make the connection- A catfish. 

“With nothing to lose, I stab it. The spear goes right through its eye and-” Sal pauses, making sure he has my full attention.

“And?”

“Nothing!” Sal laughs as if it was hilarious and not down right horrifying, “That stupid thing didn’t even flinch! I don’t know if it didn’t go deep enough or if I just missed any vital enough part, but it did absolutely nothing!”

He leans forward, no longer laughing as his face takes on a grim expression.

“At this point I start to get worried.”

“Start?!” I scoff. Sal dismisses my interruption with a wave of his hand.

"My lungs are burning, and the thing’s clamped down hard on my stomach. I'm stuck holding that stupid spear for life as it keeps doing this.. this…” He shudders, face twisting in disgust, “-weird gulping thing,” Sal shakes his head as if banishing the memory, “So I ripped that spear out and using everything I had I-” His fist came down, “- drove that spear right back into its head.” 

Sal pantomimed a gruesome show-  stabbing again and again in the world's most horrific display of charades as he brutalised the memory of the catfish. 

“Finally,” He says, voice filled with a mix of relief and exasperation as if he’d just relived the whole ordeal, “it dies.” 

I, stupidly, sigh in relief, as if somehow I couldn't have predicted the outcome with him quite literally standing in front of me.

“My lungs are on fire as I swim to the surface- and man, air never tasted so sweet.” Looking down at Sal, he's beaming, laughing like a kid as he recounts his victory over the massive fish. “And then it hits me- tasted!” 

I furrow my brow, not quite following. Sal continues, frustration returning.

“No spear- and no fucking minnow! As if, after all that, air was gonna be the only thing I’d be tasting!”

After a brief pause I couldn't help but laugh. His smile grew even wider as he raved on, swinging his hands as he continued on about his harrowing ordeal.

“I refused to swim back empty handed after that shitshow- So I spent the whole afternoon dragging that giant bastard back to shore!” 

Fuck. I stare at him, eyes wide. I can’t shake the disbelief as I try to think of what would be the equivalent feat- Dragging an orca back to shore? …Something bigger? I’ve never been an avid fisherman (nor did I have any plans to start) and really had no concept of how big the catfish in the lake got aside from the notion that they were definitely bigger than Sal.

“I get that monster to land- spend about 30 minutes on a fire that just won't start, until I'm finally able to start cooking that beast!” 

He paces along the length of the table, his steps not nearly as sure footed as they had been a few hours prior. Even with his tiny frame I can easily make out the sheer rage simmering behind his eyes.

“And y'know what?” His voice, now starting to slur, is teeming with all the theatrics of a man at his absolute limit. I swallow, desperate to hold back a laugh I know is coming.

“What?”

“That fucking thing tasted awful!” Each word was spat with such ferocity it was as if he was trying to spit out the memory of the creature's taste.

There was no helping it.

With my inhibitions long since drowned, I laugh. I laugh louder than I have in years. I laugh until my sides ache- until tears prick at the edge of my eyes.

And he laughs with me.

“Pond scum! Tha' shtupid thing tasted exactly how pond scum smells!”

My vision blurs, tears threatening to spill over as he continues to rant and rave, but the sound of my laughing completely drowns out whatever critical opinions he was espousing on catfish edibility. 

Wiping at my eyes, my brain takes a few tipsy seconds to focus back on the little man. Still shirtless, Sal had sat back, reclining with his back against one of the many empties as he lifted up what was arguably the equivalent to a very generous pitcher to his mouth with little effort- the relative ease of the action catching me by surprise as I imagined myself fumbling at doing the same. 

He… he was built. 

Quite literally a brick shithouse, if said shithouse belonged to Barbie.  

Broad seemed like a fitting word. Broad chested, broad shoulders, broad smile- Hell, even his legs had a width to them. Sal looked as if he had stepped directly out of an instagram fitness post, with his … excessive biceps flexing under the weight of the shot glass, the act a paradoxical effortless display of effort. Even at his diminutive size, I could tell this man was anything but small. He-

He coughs.

My eyes dart away from his body in an instant, snapping back to his face… accompanied with heat rising in my own. As my eyes meet his, I’m again struck with the absolute absurdity of the situation.

I'm here… getting drunk… with a tiny man… He’s right there- arms reach in front of me… 

And yet he still doesn't seem real.

My hand twitches at my side.

Touch him.

As my hand slides towards him, his gaze quickly flicks from my face to my hand and back to my face again. Confusion flashing across his features for a brief moment before his lopsided grin reappears. My finger tips barely graze him as he sidesteps my hand, shoving my fingers away. 

Huh. There's a surprising amount of weight behind his push. 

“Hands t'yourself, Big Guy.” Sal laughs, “You gotta take me to dinner first.”

It takes a moment for my brain to follow his words, and I snort. 

“Is that not what I did?” 

Sal blinks.

His own brain seeming to lag as realization dawns on him. After a moment's delay, he laughs. 

Sal takes an unsteady step forward, the sway in his weight more noticeable than before. He’s still smiling, but a look of concern crosses his features as he stares at the ground in front of him.

“I feel weird.” 

“You’re drunk.”

He looks back up towards me and I point to the drink. After a moment', Sal nods, seemingly cluing in. Maybe? I really couldn’t tell.  For all I know, that nod might have been him nodding off with how stunted the gesture had looked. 

“It…” He starts his sentence and seems to forget it half way through, taking a long blink in between words “... makes you dizzy?” 

I lean forward to rest my head on the table, starting to feel all too alike. 

“Mmm- yeah, when you’ve had a bit much.” 

With that, I slid the shot glass away from him- An act which was apparently the most egregious party foul ever to have been committed. Shouts of protest erupt beneath me, as he trails after the glass. 

With a laugh, I try to shoo him away, but man, the little guy can move. Despite the sway to his stride, Sal ducks my hand with ease.

“Dude,” I laugh, opting to pick up the glass, “You.. uh, you’ve had 'nough- you're gonna get sick.”

My words feel thick, almost sticky, in my mouth, and the thought crosses my mind that I should probably be taking my own advice.

“'m fine.” 

I snort. The man didn't even know what beer was all of two hours ago, and here he was thinking he knew his limits.

“'s if you’d know,” I chuckle. “You're stumblin' 'round.”

Sal narrows his eyes.

“I am not!”

“Oh really?” My words slur together, thick with condescension and alcohol as a smile down at him. I shove a finger to his chest, I give a little push. Sal shoots glare as he staggers back.

“See?” I chuckle, “You're totally shtumbling!” 

Eyes wide, he stares up at me, brain seeming to short-circuit for a moment before a goofy grin plasters itself across his face. I feel my own face mirror his expression as we break out into drunken laughter. 

The laughter hit me hard. 

I laughed at Sal's near cartoonish drunkenness.

I laughed at how he stumbled with a push from a finger.

I laughed at the strangeness- the reality shattering strangeness- of his very existence.

This... this is really strange...

As our collective laughter died down I took in a deep inhale. I needed to know more. I couldn’t keep up the half assed charade of normalcy. 

“Sal-”

In the brief moment I’d let my guard down, the tiny man quite literally pounces. I yank my hand away a fraction of a second before he lands, Sal stumbling as his weight falls forward. Before his face makes contact with the table, Sal seemingly just… goes with it? Just flowing with the momentum as if stumbling forward had been completely intended. With surprisingly little effort, his would-be fall morphs into a drunkenly graceful forward roll, carrying him to a stand- albeit, an unsteady one. 

For a moment, I’m at a loss for words, and before I’m able to react to whatever odd show of athleticism I’d just witnessed, he’s already at it again, eyes locked onto the shot glass like a cat locked onto a mouse. I move to shoo him away with my free hand, yet I’m met with nothing but empty space as Sal scrambles underneath the gesture. 

Again, he tries for the glass. 

Launching himself at my hand, I feel his hands graze my own before I lift the glass out of reach. Sal lands with a stumble, a lopsided grin sitting smugly on his face as he looks from the glass to me. 

Sal lowers his stance, looking something between a sprinter at the blocks and a mountain lion set to pounce. 

Seeing the gears in his head turning (albeit, slowly), I clue in. Before he gets the chance to scale me for the beverage, I make a grab for him. 

And yet, despite my efforts, somehow Sal winds up on top of my hand. It was like trying to grab at water- with him just flowing out of my grasp. Abandoning the shot glass, I grab at him with my free hand- watching dumbstruck as he drunkenly pivots, turning to jump at my in coming hand.

I freeze- Trying and failing to keep my hand steady as Sal hangs off my fingers. 

With my lack of reaction, Sal takes the opportunity to climb my fingers like some sort of rope ladder. 

To my horror, he climbs all of them, heaving himself to a shaky stand on the side of my index finger- Hands on his hips and grin on his face. 

I meet his gaze and he laughs, his expression smug as he wags his finger at me.

“Too shlow.” 

Arms out in a stumbling balance act, Sal begins walking across the edge of my hand looking oddly similar to a failed roadside sobriety test. Pausing, he frowns, pouting in frustration before bending over. For a moment, I think he’s about to throw up. Instead, he plants his hands firmly on my forearm.  

My stomach drops.  

With no effort whatsoever, Sal switches to walking on his hands- somehow just as drunkenly. Swaying side to side, every “step” seemed to overcompensate for the last, looking as if he was perpetually on the verge of tipping over.

And then he did.

In a split second, I’m sober.

My hand darts out, closing awkwardly around his form with all the grace and fine motor skills of a man marginally less drunk. Unmoving and unblinking, Sal stares up at me, a strange sound escaping him… almost as if a hum got caught in his throat. I could have almost been convinced he was nothing but an action figure with the way Sal went rigid- if not for his heart beating wildly beneath my fingertips. 

My own heart drummed in my ears, and for a moment, just a single moment, it didn’t bother me that he was sticky. 

He swallows. The tiny, but very human action feels uncanny at his size. The rise and fall of his chest, the strangely sizable weight of him in my hands… all of it is just so… strange. He feels solid - tense beneath my grip. Fuck- even at his size he felt strong. My eyes trace over the myriad of scars that marred his skin, gaze lingering over the clear bite mark that covered his shoulder and chest…

I hadn't even noticed my thumb tracing over it until I felt him try and push the digit away.

“Mark-” 

“Oh- sorry.” I adjust my grip into something I assume is more comfortable, opting to hold him in a way that left him semi-seated in my palms rather than awkwardly dangling from a first.

It's a weird sight, seeing a grown man sitting in your hands. Every small movement I make has him sway, his head drunkenly lolling back as he slurs a few indistinguishable words with a chuckle. Up close like this he looks just about as drunk as he sounds- red in the face and eyes struggling to stay open. 

Adjusting my grip, I cringe.

He was more than just a little sticky.

His pants clung to my skin, peeling off as I moved like a Band-Aid being removed. The mental image sends a shudder down my spine.

I consider taking the opportunity to wipe off the concerningly sticky little man while I have the chance, though a more rational voice in the back of my mind argues that a good host doesn’t assault their “neighbor” with wet wipes. 

Below, Sal grumbles something unintelligible, clearly displeased with me as he swats at my fingers. Though despite his attempts, my fingers lingered. 

Ugh- He left a stain on my hand! 

I glare at the dark smear of sauce he’d wiped off onto his pants, silently reconsidering the option of dousing the man in dish soap, let alone wet wipes, etiquette be damned. 

Instead, I opted for another drink.

#WE'RE BACK BABY #Things are about to get interesting #Sal is and will always be a menace #Mark is fighting demons to not toss Sal in the sink #The Shadow we Cast #TSWC #SalOC #MarkOC #g/t #giant/tiny #g/t fluff #g/t writing #entowrites #size tumblr #size difference #gt #gian/tiny #macro/mirco

[saintsenara]

if you are still doing ship game, thoughts on jily?

thank you very much, anon - i am always taking questions both on romantic ships and on characters' platonic vibes, the more unhinged the better.

although jily can't really be described in those terms, not least because their narrative purpose in canon is to be little more than blank canvases onto which harry can project as he goes through his series-long character arc, shedding his initial hero worship of james when confronted with the reality of his father's behaviour in order of the phoenix and starting both to fully appreciate lily's centrality to the course his life is taking and to see his dad with nuance as a real and fully-rounded person, flaws and all.

this narrative role means that the glimpses we get of them in canon feel kind of superficial - their bantering during snape's worst memory is basically high-school-teen-movie level, the snapshots of their life under lockdown in deathly hallows lovely and bittersweet but also just colour to a storyline which is already all of those things.

and this is not to say that i find jily uninteresting as a ship - i completely reject the common anti-jily position that they didn't really like each other, that they had nothing in common, or that their backgrounds made them incompatible [i'll expand on this below, but while i do think that their respective blood statuses and the impact of these on their relationship are worth thinking about, i loathe fics which portray james as chafing against his marriage because, as a pureblood, he'd be more comfortable with someone 'of his own kind'. this is bullshit, and there's far, far too much of it in this fandom]. my views on one of james' most frequent non-lily partnerships are well known, and i share the outrage many jily fans have for the way lily in particular is treated in a subfandom increasingly dominated by rigid fanon which prioritises giving depth to male characters [even if those characters are, in essence, oc's] and slash relationships over exploring the canon female characters, partnered or not.

but i do also find that a lot of jily falls into the same trap as much of the hinny i dislike - that is, a tendency to present as a sunshine-and-roses fairytale a relationship which is much more interesting if the things which canon implies [and which can be reasonably inferred outside of canon scenes from a canon coherent engagement with the text] might have introduced an element of dysfunction into james and lily's partnership are taken into account.

the shadow of the war is obviously one of these things. what role lily actually plays in the resistance is something which preoccupies me [she is never mentioned in canon to have taken a combat role - and i find it considerably more plausible that any attempt voldemort made to recruit her was at snape's request and connected to her potions prowess] particularly because, as we see in the way her death is memorialised in deathly hallows, the series regards the defence of the integrity of the nuclear family as a key aim for the good guys. how does she interact with james and his wartime role when she's pregnant, nursing, or in hiding for the vast majority of her time in the order? how does she feel about her husband being a soldier if she's behind the scenes?

indeed, what role james [and sirius] plays in the order is also something i'm obsessed with thinking about - not least because so much of the inherent tragedy of the marauders' storyline is caused by the fact that james and sirius think they're fucking invincible and that their plans to keep the potters safe are foolproof. it's entirely reasonable to read james and sirius as being pretty gung-ho about being paramilitaries - and my headcanon is absolutely that more battled-hardened order members didn't like them very much [moody does not, after all, seem massively fond of sirius] - and lily seems affected by this too [she's not holding her wand either!], and what they thought they were doing as 1981 rolls around is compelling to me.

james and lily's divergent backgrounds is also something i'd like to see explored more in fandom - not, as i've said, in the dull 'james should have married a pureblood' way, but in a way which deals with the fact that their relationship follows wizarding norms. molly weasley can blame the war all she likes, but [although i doubt this was jkr's intention] the evidence of canon is that witches and wizards marry and have children extremely young as a social standard, that couples generally don't live together before marriage, that divorce doesn't seem to be common, and that married women tend not to work. lily - a mother at twenty and, therefore, presumably married at nineteen - is coming of age, then, in a magical world which thinks about gender very differently from the muggle world of the 1970s, and i think that tension is worth exploring.

[similarly, the way in which her marriage is self-protective - lily gains a pureblood name and the social cachet which comes with it at a time when she's in rising danger on account of her birth - is something i think it's worth looking at when considering the pairing.]

there are other flashes of dysfuntion which i adore thinking about in relation to jily - lily's relationship with the other marauders [you can pry the reading that sirius resents her for stealing the love of his life - and i certainly don't mean lupin - away from him from my cold, dead hands]; how much of his misbehaviour at school james conceals from her; the fact that lily becoming more overtly interested in james from her sixth year onward must have a little bit of attempting to make snape jealous mixed into it - and whenever i stumble upon them in fics i say oh ho like horace slughorn and kick my little feet in the air.

i care rather less about 'we're so hot and flawless and not doomed' as a trope.

but i do stan james for beefing with vernon dursley even though lily told him to behave. the man really is just that annoying.

#asks answered #asenora's opinions on ships #jily #james potter #lily evans #is this an 'i'm in danger' one? #only time will tell

[bougiebutchbitch]

After watching GOTG 2 again I am struck by how it IS possible to kill a beloved character in a meaningful and hard-hitting way

Yondu was my favourite trashbag pirate dad. Like, it 100% made me sad to see him go, and I'm so tired of the 'death as redemption' trope that I immediately wrote a dozen fix-it fics.

But narratively? It was perfect.

It was a big character moment that brought his arc together. A guy who hid all his fear and trauma behind this act of being the biggest toughest badass around, who pretended he didn't care about anyone but himself, was finally fucking honest about his love for his son and had a really soft, touching, heartfelt moment where he was trying to comfort him while he died.

It was a horrific situation with no other way out. Yondu and Peter had to choose one of them to die, and of course Yondu chose himself, not his kid. It didn't feel contrived, or like a disservice to the characters' intelligence. There really was no other option.

It was dramatic. It was heart-rending. It felt impactful, not least because the film ended with a massive funeral where Yondu's whole adopted family (who Yondu thought he'd pushed away and who hated him forever) showed up to say goodbye.

We had Peter resolving to be a better parental figure to Groot while listening to the music Yondu left him. We had Rocket reflecting on his big 'I see you, you're me' moment with Yondu. We had Peter telling Rocket the Guardians will always love him, even if he - like Yondu - does that Typical Abused Kid Thing and pushes the boundaries of everyone who cares for him to test when they'll snap. We had poor widower Kraglin inheriting Yondu's arrow (and absolutely sucking ass at using it, lmao). Hell, we even had Gamora and Nebula sharing that beautiful, awkward, unpracticed hug.

In short, it was so much better than A Certain Other Death, and rewatching made me grateful for how it was handled

#yondu udonta #gotg #guardians of the galaxy #just some thots #obviously I would've preferred 'the idiot survives and now has to actually WORK on repairing his relationship with Peter' #but I can see that wasn't The Big Film Vibe they wanted #buuuuuut say. in a TV series. where a similar character dies as 'redemption'.... that would've worked so much better lol

[awhhhflush]

The Meeting

Mob!Bucky x Reader x Steve Rogers (Massive warning - this fic is dark.)

I'd recommend listening to this for this chapter!

Warnings (apply to the whole series): drugging, mafia/gang activity, criminal activity, age gap (reader is over the age of 18), arson, death, murder, coercion/peer pressure (non-sexual), manipulation/brainwashing, parental issues (a.k.a daddy issues), abuse of power, sort of stockholm syndrome?

Summary: Left to your own devices whilst your mother joins socialite groups with the other rich moms in town and whilst your father deals with those business troubles he's been having, you decide to explore your surroundings, and make a new friend on the way.

Fine. Maybe a miniskirt and Mary Janes weren't the best fashion choice for exploring the woods down the street, but you were yet to have unpacked the entire contents of your wardrobe. It was the best you could do. Besides, it would hopefully make a nice impression on anybody who saw you. The outfit painted a sweet, innocent, girl-next-door picture of you that you rather enjoyed. The plaid skirt went nicely with the cardigan you wore, which was perfect for the autumn chill. You promised your parents you'd be home by lunchtime, and surprisingly enough, your father let you leave without assistance. That was probably his first mistake, unbeknownst to you.

As you stepped out of the house, the October breeze hit you like an avalanche, a shiver running down your spine instantly. The shiver was also impacted by the eye contact you made once more with the man across the street, however. Your hands immediately flew to your skirt, tugging it down as much as you could to avoid judgement, earning a chuckle from the man. Although he was rather far away, you still heard his laugh and it sent an unfamiliar warmth to your core. You shuddered at your own avidity. You both paused for a moment, neither of you wanting to be the first to break the gaze, until he turned on his heel and gave you one more glance before entering his own home. Relief relaxed your shoulders, and you let the huff of air you must have been holding in slip from your lips. You clutched your bag as your stomach began to ache with hunger. Maybe it would be nice to have a picnic date with yourself in the forest.

The walk to the grocery shop, which perched on a corner flooded with crates of flowers and fruits, was thankfully rather short. You picked up a punnet of berries and some cookies, receiving both lustful and judgemental looks from most of the other customers. The cashier, who just so happened to be a suited, well kept man, whom was insanely buff and broad, that owned the shop itself, simply watched you in curiosity. You smiled warmly at him and thanked him as you left, the bell on the top of the door frame dinging sharply as you stepped out. Peckish, you bit into a perfectly crimson strawberry as you made your way to the woods your father had driven past on your way to the house. The juice of the berry stained your lips as you chewed and hummed contently. It was delicious.

The leaves under your feet crunched faintly, crisp and warm toned. The forest was riddled with overgrown greenery which had now grown limp and dry, but it was beautiful all the same. Ivy creeped up the trees, embracing them tightly. The grass was somehow short amidst the dying leaves and bushes. The trees cast a shadow over the entire forest. The place had a simple yet eerie beauty to it. Perhaps you could visit here more often. You found a tree, twisted and distorted, its trunk reaching out the the ground among the thorns and nettles. You settled upon the trunk, leaning against the upward twist of it. It was a perfect place to sit and relax. This place only got better.

You'd just dug into your berry mix as you heard a deep grunt sound before you. Your gaze snapped up, meeting the intense eyes of the man across the street. Your body immediately tensed under his watch. "We must stop meeting like this," he chuckled, the same sound from earlier reverberating through his chest, which was, much like the shop keeper's, exceptionally broad and muscular, his sweater fitted just enough to outline the muscles perfectly. You smiled softly, still nervous as his eyes burned into you. He held his hand out to you, offering it as a greeting. You shook it lightly, your small hand enclosing around his in a way that made his eyes darken. You didn't notice, though. You were too busy trying not to melt under his gaze. The man was incredibly attractive - it wasn't your fault that he flustered you so much. His dark hair was gelled lightly, stray and short curls framing his face. His eyes were a vibrant and deep blue, somehow radiating an alluring darkness despite their brightness in colour. He towered over you, and you were sure he would even if you weren't sat down. His shoulders were wide and his arms were large and rugged. His jaw was defined and sharp, brushed with faint stubble which was strangely attractive. Whilst it made him look older, it made him all the more handsome. His lips were plump and pink, in a constant state of soft smiling toward you. Between his brows was a crease, similar to the kind that frustration or anger would bring. But he wasn't angry or frustrated - at least you didn't think he was. Despite the time you felt you had spent scanning the man's features, seconds had not yet even passed. He seemed to freeze time. "I'm James," he breathed, "but my friends call me Bucky," and a smirk tugged at his lips.

"How does James turn into Bucky?" You giggled, playful confusion washing over your features. He hummed a laugh, leaning nearer to you. "When you become a friend." He purred. Your smile dropped, now replaced with a blank and flustered stare, heat rising in your cheeks. Bucky could've sworn his pants got tighter as he watched the blush erupt in the apples of your cheeks. You shook your head softly, the smile returning to your lips as you composed yourself and steadied your breathing, eyes bearing into his. "I mean where did the name come from." You simpered. "My last name's Buchanan," he explained, his eyes flickering between each of yours. The moment was oddly intense, sending warm shivers through you. Your stomach broke out in frenzied butterflies. "Oh," you breathed, and with that, a content silence settled upon the both of you. After a few seconds, Bucky broke the silence. "I was just about to go on a stroll," He said smoothly, his eyes shining with mischief. "Care to join me?" And his hand brushed against yours once more.

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

Comfortable silence had lingered for long enough, and Bucky wanted to hear your voice again. The leaves crunched beneath your feet as you walked, but Bucky's deep voice broke through the haze that nature's ambience has lured you into. "So, where'd you move from?" He asked, turning to peer at you as you did the same. "Leesville," you muttered, nostalgia washing over you. You'd never had the most exciting social life, but Leesville had still been your childhood home. The look of gloom that clouded your expression made Bucky's hand move on it's own. He reached towards your face, hand cupping your jaw as his thumb swiped over your lips. "Strawberry juice," he mumbled softly in response to your look of surprise. Once again, the blush he had reacted so extremely to before sprung back to life, an almost inaudible groan sounding from his throat instinctively. You blinked at him, the same blank expression settling on your face, your lips parting as you exhaled shakily. You couldn't wrap your head around how easily this man was effecting you, this stranger, this new friend.

The two of you spoke and walked until the sky began to darken, when the realisation that lunchtime had long passed hit you. A small gasp left your lips, as you spun to face Bucky. His eyebrow quirked in confusion, to which you yelped, "I was supposed to be back home for lunch!" You absentmindedly grasped his hand and began to rush back the way you came, before his hand tightened around yours, the realisation of your action falling over you. You quickly dropped your hand and continued speed walking until you passed the tree you had sat at. Huffing, and clutching your chest in exhaustion, you heard Bucky catch up with you, his strides long and steady. "I'll walk you home. Besides, you're a big girl, I'm sure your parents won't mind." He insisted. You just stared at him as he began to walk ahead of you, glancing back at you just how he had that morning, until your senses came back to you and the panic clouding your mind subsided. He was right. You were old enough to get home a whatever time you wanted - except, it was more so to do with your safety than your age.

Rounding the corner and approaching the both of your houses, Bucky cleared his throat. You looked at him expectantly, and your mouth hung slack when you processed what he had to say. "Would you like to have coffee with me tomorrow?" He'd asked. This man, this god-carved hunk, the most attractive man you'd admittedly ever seen, was asking you, a girl he'd only just met, a girl at least 10 years younger than him, out to coffee. You'd assumed he only walked with you out of politeness, because he'd bumped into you and introduced himself. You'd assumed he was only being courteous because you had just moved in. But no, he had walked with you because he, James Buchanan, wanted to walk with you. He, burly Bucky, wanted to spend time with you. It was his eyes, exploring yours in expectance, that bought you back from the depths of your thoughts. You gulped, unable to verbally accept his offer, and nodded. You were eager, don't be mistaken, but you'd never had any friends. You knew you were attractive, but to be thrown from your typical lonely state into a state of possible romance shook you. Bucky, leaving you just as he had greeted you, chuckled in response and shook his head at your obvious nervousness. "How does 11 work for you?" He asked, not even expecting a verbal answer anymore. You only nodded again, before quickly heading up your porch steps and into your strangely quiet home, leaving Bucky behind you, smirking, eyes dark and hooded.

Author's Note: Okay, I'm quite nervous to publish this... this is my first time allowing my writing to include outward sexuality. I'm hoping it isn't too cringey? This is also my first series! So I'm hoping it turns our nicely. Enjoy!!

Taglist: (comment to be added.) @chemtrails-club

#mafia bucky barnes #mafia bucky x reader #mob bucky au #mob bucky x reader #mob bucky barnes #mafia au #bucky barnes one shot #bucky barnes series #bucky barnes #dark bucky x reader #dark bucky barnes #dark steve rogers #mob steve #mob steve rogers #mafia steve rogers

[romancingromanoff]

Hi there, your stories are amazing, I really love them, I was wondering if you could do a margaery tyrell x F targaryen reader, where the reader is the sister of daenerys, and she also has a personality like her badass ancestor visenya instead of being ladylike

Sorry this took so long but I had a lot of fun with this request. It made me realize how much I miss writing for GoT and Margaery. I made our reader similar to Visenya in the sense that they share a love for combat and have tenacious spirits, but she isn't a complete carbon copy of her ancestor and lacks more of the diplomatic skill/finesse she was also known for. I hope you enjoy and thank you!

Daenerys was finally on the throne. You had already left Essos with a massive force the world had not seen in centuries with the Dothraki, the Unsullied, and three full grown dragons at your sister’s command. With the additional support from the Tyrells, the Dornish, and the Greyjoys, Cersei Lannister stood absolutely no chance. As Dany rode on Drogon and you rode Viserion, the sky over King’s Landing and the Red Keep instantly darkened.

The smallfolk and many of Cersei’s supporters had already begun to turn on her after the destruction of the Great Sept of Baelor. Luckily, Margaery Tyrell and a few others had been able to escape thanks to her sharp wits and quick thinking, while the High Sparrow and the majority of his followers had perished in the explosion. Poor King Tommen, who was under the impression that his wife had been killed, had taken his own life soon after by jumping from the Red Keep. As your army surrounded King’s Landing, the City Watch peacefully surrendered before any blood needed to be shed and your forces quickly closed in on the queen. There were a few loyal members of the Kingsguard that were willing to put down their lives for their queen, the most notable among them being the Kingslayer himself, however, they could only delay the inevitable.

Your father’s murderer was swiftly stabbed in the back by Grey Worm, killed the exact same way he had betrayed his king. Every part of you envied your friend for being the one to end the Kingslayer’s life. You were told that Cersei broke down upon watching her brother and lover die protecting her. She had poison on hand which she planned to use on herself but wasn’t quick enough to evade capture. No, she would not get a swift death. Dany had her presented to the entire city and lit her up with Drogon’s dragon fire in the tradition of your ancestors. She died screaming for mercy while the crowds cheered, the tyrant queen was finally gone.

Unfortunately, there had been very little time to celebrate your victory before a convoy from the North traveled down with news of an ancient threat that sought to wipe out all of humanity. 

Neither you or Dany believed that the White Walkers actually existed until you flew north of the wall yourselves to witness the army of the dead with your own eyes. You immediately summoned dragon fire to try and destroy whatever portions of the army you could, but then Viserion and you had nearly been killed in the attack when an unimaginably deadly spear made of ice had been launched in your direction by the Night King himself. Viserion dove quickly and turned his body so that you wouldn’t be hit but part of his left wing was snagged and soon the two of you were falling out of the sky. Your dragon was able to soften the landing for you as best as he could but the impact was still extremely damaging on your body.

Being more of a fighter, you had suffered your fair share of injuries in the past. Around your sixth nameday, a special sling had to be made for your arm. You had broken it while wielding a large stick you found in the gardens of one of the many sponsors in Essos you lived with before moving onto the next. In your mind, you imagined it was the Valyrian steel sword Dark Sister that had once belonged to your great ancestor Visenya Targaryen. One jump off of the roof with your imaginary dragon had led to a nasty fall and started a series of mostly self-induced, reckless wounds. 

Scars covered your body, telling the stories of every horse you’d fallen off of and time you’d wrestled a Dothraki warrior that was easily twice your size. Daenerys hated how eager you were to pick up any sword or bow you could get your hands on but understood that trying to stop you only fueled the fire in your veins. When she had entered the funeral pyre and given birth to her three dragons, the only thing you could talk about from then on out was when they’d be large enough to ride. Not once did you worry about the possibility of falling out of the sky.

It took an entire week before you finally awoke, your first action trying to scramble out of bed despite the maesterscolding you for breaking several of your stitches. You had to know if your sister and friends were safe. Dany soon informed you that you were back in King’s Landing where Viserion was also healing. It was truly a relief to find out that he would be okay. Then your sister informed you of her plan to return to the north and aid in the fight against the dead at Winterfell while you were ordered to stay and rest in the capital.

“Dany, please!” You protested with every ounce of energy you had, causing a sharp pain to rip through your shoulder. “Let me go with you. I won’t let you do this alone!” 

“You are in no shape to fight, sister, and neither is your dragon. As your queen, I order you to stay here. I still have not been crowned and I need someone I can trust to guard the iron throne.”

It was a fight you knew you could not win, yet you dreaded being left alone in this strange city. “We have no allies here. I have no friends. Please, let me at least go with you to Winterfell and I won’t fight, I give you my word.” The thought of not being able to participate in the battle pained you but you at least wanted to be there for support. 

Your sister adamantly shook her head. “No, I will not gamble with your life. You are my heir and the only other person I trust to enact our mission. That is my final decision. Missandei and a few of the Unsullied will stay here with you. You should take the opportunity to get to know the people here, learn about the culture and make more allies. Many in Westeros still view us as foreigners and I need to know who I can truly trust to fully support my reign.”

“Dany, you know I’m hopeless when it comes to this stuff,” you sighed and could already tell your head would be hurting for weeks if you were forced to sit and make pleasantries with strangers. Between you and your sister, she had always been more naturally gifted in the ways of diplomacy and charming others to listen to her words. You, on the other hand, were more inclined to laugh at the absolute worst moment of a conversation or trip over your own words and accidentally curse in a way completely unfit for a highborn lady. “If it’s seven kingdoms you wish to rule then you’ll ensure I’m not able to make a fool of myself in front of the most powerful families in Westeros.”

There was no convincing her. Your eyes stung stung for hours when your sister left you behind. In the following days, more agonizing than your wounds was the dreadful feeling of not knowing whether or not your friends were alive or dead. Being bedridden you felt completely helpless as the days came and went with no ravens delivering news of any sort of outcome yet. After a few days, you were finally given permission to try and walk again and took every opportunity to explore the castle. Missandei eventually tried to force you to rest and it took a great deal of effort to ditch her. Trying to shuffle as quickly as you could through several smaller corridors resulted in you being completely lost.

That was where you first met Margaery Tyrell. Somehow, she managed to sneak up on you the third time you realized you had walked past the same statue. “Your grace,” she performed a small curtsy in front of you. “I’m glad to see you have progressed tremendously from your injuries. I’m Margaery of the House Tyrell, truly, it’s a pleasure to finally meet you.”

“I…“ Oh gods, you weren’t prepared for this at all. It was like you instantly had forgotten how to speak. Many had said that Margaery was the most beautiful woman in all of Westeros. And although you had seen very little of the seven kingdoms thus far, you were inclined to agree. She was utterly breathtaking, with honeyed hair and hypnotic eyes. You cursed at yourself for leaving Missandei, the only person that might have been able to save you in this current situation. You needed her to say absolutely anything else in literally any of the several languages she spoke. Even gibberish would have been better than you just standing there gaping at the poor lady.

She went ahead and continued speaking after you failed to respond with anything more than a wordless stare. “May I assist you in any way? I know how daunting finding your way around the castle can be. During my first two weeks of living here I got lost on my way to the Great Hall and found myself in a sunken courtyard where two men conversed with one another in a foreign language I didn’t recognize and ignored my presence when I tried to ask for help in Common Tongue. I had to wait for a cook to come rescue me and that was only because he was chasing a pigeon that had stolen his spoon from the kitchen!”

It was unclear whether or not you were meant to laugh at her anecdote and you didn’t want to risk doing the wrong thing. But then Margaery herself began chuckling at her previous misfortune and you felt relaxed enough to lift your lips into a small smile. Her energy was contagious and frankly, so was the sound of her laughter. You immediately wished to hear more of it.

“Yes, well… It’s, uh, strange never having been here myself but knowing my family has walked these halls for generations. I asked a servant if the rumors that dead Targaryens haunt the corridors were true and she nearly fainted. I suppose that answered my question. Honestly, it would be nice if their ghosts could offer me any directions.”

You worried that you might have overshared, although you had only been trying to follow Margaery’s lead. But the charming woman in front of you suddenly burst into the most melodic laughter you’d ever heard and a strange warmth rushed into your face.

“That would be helpful, wouldn’t it, if those from the past could offer their wisdom to us before we make the exact same mistakes they did?”

“Yes, exactly!” The fact that the two of you are on the same page has you giggling with complete elation. “Do you ever think about your dead family?”

As soon as the words left your mouth you only realized what you just said. Oh gods, why did you have to phrase it like that? How foolish did you have to be to forget that her own brother, Loras Tyrell, had been unable to escape the Great Sept not even two moons ago? 

Margaery blinked twice, staring at you mildly stunned. It was the same look you see on your sister’s face whenever tries to hold in a cringe and realizes she’ll have to offer up an explanation for your infantile behavior.

“I-I must apologize, my lady, I didn’t mean to say it like that.” You took several steps back from the woman, unsure if she wanted to turn and leave so you were prepared to excuse yourself first. “I understand if you want me to leave.”

“It’s alright. Please, stay.” You felt her hand reach for your wrist and although her touch was nothing but gentle it startled you. Your eyebrows immediately shot up like she had frozen you by some strange magic. “You’ve done nothing to offend me. I suppose I was simply surprised by your choice of words.”

You released a breath you’d been holding. “That tends to be a regular occurrence I’m afraid. My lady, I truly am sorry about the loss of your brother. My own was rather cruel and I feared him since I was a small child, yet his death unsettled me greatly even though he deserved it. I understand you were very close with yours and no one deserves that sort of fate. You and your family have my deepest condolences.”

“Thank you,” Margaery spoke more softly before with a new contemplative look in her eyes. “Loras was deeply misunderstood and unfortunately people weren’t very accepting of his differences. I wish he had been able to freely live as himself without judgment.”

It sounded all too familiar. Recently, people you knew had spoken about the youngest Tyrell son’s… sexual preferences… But you always tried to avert your attention from such conversations when you came across them, even if the participants didn’t seem hostile with their judgment. You were no longer in Essos where people like yourself were generally more accepted in society. And although the High Sparrow and his fanatics were gone, members of the Faith of the Seven continued to persecute others like you. 

“I understand the feeling. My sister and I hope to build a new Westeros where everyone is free to make their own decisions. A place that’s free of judgment and everyone can decide their own future, so long as it is done fairly. The weak and the poor will no longer break their backs for greedy men that would abuse them for a few coins.” 

“I should be quite fortunate to witness it,” she gave you a bright smile and offered you her arm, which you hesitated to take at first. A part of you knew even the slightest bit of her touch would be addicting for you, which turned out to be correct. She guided you throughout the rest of the castle and you decided that you’d let her lead you anywhere.

You found it strange when only a fortnight had passed and surprisingly you felt as if you’d been friends with MargaeryTyrell much longer. Whether you were struggling to find the proper words to use or going off on one of your many animated tangents, the southern lady never judged nor criticized you. It quickly became evident that she was a master at socializing and had no problem carrying the conversation on her own when you internally fussed over what to say. However, she was also eager to listen when you finally let one of your passionate ramblings pour from your heart. Even subjects that were positively unladylike, which you had first assumed would be of no interest to your new companion, became effortlessly easy to talk about with her. 

“Valyrian steel is objectively the best material to use if you ever needed an amputation. It cuts clean through skin, flesh, and bone, unlike more blunt blades which would be more likely to cause even greater injury. I’ve seen some medics have to practically saw their tools back and forth through limbs in order to get them to detach. It’s completely gruesome!”

“And Dark Sister, that was the one you used to pretend to have?” Margaery’s eyes shimmered like she was completely enthralled in your story. Never once did you think she’d call you a freak or too violent to be considered a lady.

You nodded enthusiastically. “Yes. It was Visenya’s during Aegon’s conquests. I’ve always wanted to be a warrior like her for as long as I can remember. Of course Viserys only ever saw me and Daenerys as pawns easy enough to use, as was his right he said, to help take back his throne.”

“What he did was cruel and how I wish you had been treated better. Had a better childhood surrounded by your loved ones and a proper place to call home. I’m sure we would have met sooner, perhaps here at court. Except then you’d be the one showing me around and rescuing me from becoming lost!”

There’s nothing you could do to stop the blush from filling your cheeks as you imagined this rewritten version of history and who you might have been had things been different. The past wasn’t something you liked to dwell on too often as you knew there was no point in trying to change things, but one other thing had become incredibly clear about your future. You couldn’t imagine it without Margaery in your life.

Daenerys was finally due to come back tomorrow and while you were certainly eager to see her and have her introduced to Margaery, many other mixed emotions came with the letter she had most recently sent you. She’d mentioned several losses over the series of battles that had taken place up north. You knew victory would never have been easily won, but feared finding out which friends’ faces had been permanently taken from your life. Thankfully, Margaery was there to listen to you express your anxieties. 

“I have this horrible feeling that Jorah is dead. As complicated as his past was, I never doubted that he would lay down his own life to save me or my sister. He once promised me that he would never leave us and yet somehow, I know he’s gone and done just that.”

“I will be here for you every step of the way,” Margaery assured you, grabbing your hands and softly rubbing her thumbs upon the tops of them. “You don’t have to go through this alone. I may not know any of your friends but I will not leave you. I’m not going anywhere.”

“Do you promise?” You squeezed her hands tighter, gazing up into her wide eyes and looking for any sign of uncertainty. There were so few people in this world that you’d let get to know the real you, and even fewer that had stayed and accepted it.

Her eyes softened, and in a way of almost sealing her promise she slowly lowered herself to her knees in front of you. You were a princess as your sister was the queen and people were regularly brought to bow before you just the same. Still, the way Margaery executed it without ever breaking eye contact made her particular act feel incredibly intimate, like she was pledging her loyalty not only to your blood or titles, but simply because it was you.

“I promise, my little dragon. Where you go, I go.” It was whenever she made statements like this that you almost believed she might have felt the same way as you did about her. 

A snarky smile crept across your face. “Does that mean you’ll finally ride Viserion with me?” You’d recently been begging the woman you were infatuated with for a chance to impress her with the one experience you knew she would not have had. Or could find anywhere else.

She let out a nervous laugh. “You forget, my dear, that I am a rose and am meant to be firmly planted into the ground. And while I’m sure Viserion has no qualms with you riding him, he’s surely to be mistrustful of a stranger like me. There are no dragon riders in my family’s history, I’m afraid.”

“Maybe you’re a stranger to him as of now but we can remedy that! I am bonded to him more deeply than humans can be with normal animals, which means he should inherently trust you as much as I do. He’s going to love you, I know it. Margaery, you must know I would never put you into danger like that.”

There was a substantial amount of hesitance which began to fade from her eyes. You tried to show her what you believed was your most empathetic look and you watched as your words caused the last few threads of doubt to come undone.

“I trust you as well. But I shall have to ask for something small in return, if you’d agree to it.”

She could’ve asked you for the world and you knew you would give it to her. The two of you then struck a deal and made your way to dragon pit. 

Viserion was already in protective mode as you approached him, making sure he had at least one eye on Margeary at all times. You started to speak to him in High Valyrian, explaining that you had brought a special friend and your comfort around her appeared to ease him. The golden rose tried to remain calm throughout the whole ordeal as well, though you sensed that she was dealing with a reasonable amount of nerves deep down. Her hand timidly reached out for yours, in a way that was surprisingly bashful for the normally confident woman, and you immediately accepted her touch.

Three circles around King’s Landing was all it took to change Margaery’s mind about flying. A perfectly blue and cloudless sky made for the perfect views. The few screams she attempted to stifle had turned into pure uninhibited laughter by the second lap, and you only landed shortly after to be certain you weren’t overworking Viserion so soon after his injury.

As much joy spending time with Margaery brought you, there was a voice from your past softly whispering in your ear, telling you not to get too attached. You were a dragon but you had been burned before. Dany��was the only other person that truly knew how complicated your relationship with Doreah had been. Completely smitten with her from the start, it was easy enough for her to win over your innocent heart with a few stolen kisses and flirtatious words. She made you believe you were her favorite and even more special than your sister. It eventually drew a wedge between you and Danythat gave Doreah the opportunity to betray the both of you. Worst of all, you couldn’t prove it but you knew she had killed Irri too.

“Now do you see why I told you not to trust her?” Both your sister’s embrace and her words were firm as she had turned from the vault where Doreah and Xaro Xhoan Daxos were sealed inside. Your body was still shaking but Daenerys was determined for you to remember every detail of that exact moment. “As Targaryens, people will always envy our power and try not only to take it but to have us give it to them if they can.”

“I won’t ever let us feel like that again, sister, I swear it,” you had promised with the utmost sincerity.

You never let yourself fall for another again until you invited Margaery Targaryen to accompany you on Viserion and it made you feel alive again. The realization began to set in when your feet landed back on the ground, with a heaviness in both your heart and your knees suddenly overtaking you. Margaery naturally caught sight of the grimace on your face and asked if everything was alright. Honestly, you didn’t even know what the truth was.

“Margaery,” the gravity in your voice made even Viserion shift uncomfortably. You knew you had to be honest to receive honesty in return. “I will grant whatever favor you request of me as I am a woman and princess of my word. I only ask that you be sincere with me. Getting to know you recently has felt like a breath of fresh air, but I have been used and toyed with for my name and my power since I was born. You are a woman of noble birth with the duty of uplifting your family and house. I can respect that. It is also evident that you are more than capable of securing your own means of influence. You have been wed to three men that have called themselves ‘King’. It would be foolish of you not to try and befriend me, but I must know, what is it that you really want?”

Margaery sighed and momentarily averted her gaze from you. You’d never seen her that reserved before. Having her be the one too nervous to open up to you was a strange switch in the roles you’d mostly settled in over the past few weeks. It made you eager to demonstrate the lack of judgment you held on your part. You ached to be someone she could trust and every second of silence that passed had you sitting in bitter anticipation.

When she finally spoke, it was with a solemn sense of conviction. “I have wanted to be Queen for so long. You’re not wrong to assume it has completely consumed my life. These past few years have been especially driven by my obsession, which might have started as a seed planted by my family but became fully grown and sustained by my own ambition a long time ago.”

She paused after that, clearly unaccustomed to the position she had found herself in. There was also something else about her demeanor that you couldn’t clearly define. Shame, regret, possibly even indignation? You slowly leaned in closer, careful to make sure you weren’t overstepping, but wanting to show that you were there for her.

“I was always maintaining a specific persona, trying to play the role of a voice for the poor when I only cared about how the publicity could serve my own interests. I was not like you or your sister. Truthfully, I made very little effort to help anyone aside from myself and my family and never sacrificed more than a few comforts or dresses I dirtied. Even when I was officially the queen, all the power that came with the crown wasn’t enough to save my brother from the animosity and unfairness which runs so deeply in the establishments that uphold our society. Things that I didn’t spare a second thought for until they came to hurt the ones I love and it was too late to do anything.

“Margaery,” you shook your head and bravely reached for her hands. “None of what happened is your fault. You’re only one person and shouldn’t put the pressure to change history and customs by yourself. We’re all human.”

She squeezed your hands tightly, pulling you closer to her so that only a few inches separated your faces. Gods, being near her affected you like a powerful drug. She smelled of roses and fresh morning dew in the early spring as you expected from a lady of Highgarden. There was something in her presence that seemed to transport you there. And though you had never actually been, it strangely felt like home.

“Yes, you are human, dragon rider, and more,” she smiled and came to run the back of her fingers softly down your cheek. Your legs would have given out had you not been so determined to keep looking up into her enchanting eyes. “And yet when all odds were against you, you and your sister freed thousands and bettered the lives of countless others with nothing expected in return. That is true selflessness and deserves the right to rule, as I am certain you shall do fairly as these kingdoms desperately need. You will bring forth the future where people like me and Loras could have lived freely. A place I never even imagined until I met you.”

Nothing in her words or demeanor felt dishonest but something told you the request she had yet to make would reveal the ultimate truth. If she believed in you and your sister’s mission then would it be so outlandish to think she’d ask for your friendship above additional power? Your heart was beating frantically and you strained your voice to get out your next few words.

“Margaery, what is it that you want from me?” Despite knowing that she had the power to end you right then and there, you chose to cling onto hope and held onto her one hand and lean into the touch of the other which now rested on the opposite side of your face. Doreah had been gentle with you at times but not in a way quite like this. Her affections had always been calculated and she gave you just enough to leave you wanting more. Teasing and playing games with you where you were only awarded by granting her favors. Margaery held you like she never wanted to let you go, even if it burned her skin in the process.

“If you wouldn’t be opposed to it, I’d like to kiss you, little dragon.”

Your heart must’ve stopped and all you could do was nod. Then as soon as Margaery’s lips met your own it began to beat once more, complete with new life she breathed into you. Her kiss was soft at first, careful to ensure the continued contact was alright with you before you deepened it. She tasted of vanilla and sweets and you eagerly chased to explore into her mouth further with her tongue. Your enthusiasm must’ve surprised the other woman, though she gave off a pleased chuckle before shortly taking back the lead and her other hand found your waist.

“Kostilus,” you moaned as she pressed your bodies even closer together. Everything else you wanted to say you put into your movements. Margaery smiled once again and her chest vibrated when you went to wrap your arms around her neck and continued to interrupt your dance with brief pronunciations of Valyrian words. She didn’t need to speak the language to understand what you were pleading for, and it pleased her greatly in many ways.

The two of you instantly separated when Viserion let out a deep cry that vibrated the ground around you. He twisted his neck up towards the sky where a dark mass grew faster and faster in its descent. Drogon answered his brother’s call and you realized Dany must be home. You grabbed Margaery’s hand, the biggest grin painted across your face. Getting to kiss Margaery and reunite with your sister had you so giddy that it didn’t occur to you how Margaery had never met Drogonbefore, who was much larger and intimidating than your sweet Viserion.

But all you could think about was how relieved you were to see your sister and her dragon both safe and unharmed. You raced to Dany when she began to dismount and dragged Margaery along with you. You felt as if you could burst with joy in that very moment, although your sister’s face did not show the same excitement or relief as you would have expected. No, this wasn’t Dany excited to greet you after an easy victory. This was Queen Daenerys already fueled on anger and glaring daggers at the woman next to you. 

To her credit, Margaery stood firmly next to you in the face of the Mother of Dragons and her fiercest son.

“Who is she?” 

#margaery tyrell #margaery tyrell x reader #game of thrones #margery tyrell imagines #game of thrones insert #wlw #Natalie dormer characters

[sapphicseasapphire]

Hi ! Sorry if you already answered that but does Wild care about the god reveal thing ? Cause Time is shiny- And he loves shiny things. But at the same time would Wild actually just stuck around him more ? Since yk he prefers to hang out with the huh... Spirit related people ? Or does he go and be lonely :') ? Does he even get lonely ? Since he steals the others things because it's shiny some must have to be upset with him right ? And some might hold grudges against him for more time than others and knowing that Wild probably can't help himself but : I need shiny thing.

The others are probably going to be upset at him that he never stop doing that. And then some are going to either confront him about it and he might close up in his shell or they'll avoid him or be cold with him and that would impact the relationship. And since he doesn't talk much all by himself he might not have any interactions or very few and that might be for battles etc... So would he get lonely ?

Hylia did I ramble... I love your AU ! 'S not my fault you did smt to make my brain go : Zoomies time my cotton ball

Before the God Reveal, everyone just kind of assumed that Time was a spirit. And they assumed this specifically because Wild was so close with him. Wild can communicate ideas telepathically with other spirits and spiritual beings- like Wars and Time. He can communicate complete sentences and words to Spirit, who is a Reaper. Time, apart from being generally shiny, seems to understand Wild, and Wild is very close with him, so everyone just assumed. They had no reason to think that a literal God was among them.

(Sky knew because he’s had enough experience with Gods to recognize them. Spirit knew because of his massive displays of power, which only the Reaper could detect. But everyone else was clueless. At least… at first).

So the God Reveal doesn’t really change how Wild sees Time. He’s still a shiny guy. Still one of the few people in the group that can understand him. They stay close, because honestly? Wild doesn’t care about Gods. Even a little bit. He cares more about the people that Time hurt because of his secrets. The trust between them is rattled, but yeah. Wild still talks to him. He still pokes at the eye. Touches the armor. Forgets about personal space.

Wild can get lonely. He’s a very social creature, having lived surrounded by forest spirits his whole life- er, his whole… death? He doesn’t remember being alive haha! Just the Blupees and Koroks that play with him, the Deku Tree that guides him, the Lord of the Mountains for which he’s named. Wild thrives off of closeness. He needs companionship.

And I’ve actually gotten a lot of asks about this haha! The Cryptid Chain are not mad a Wild. They’ll get (understandably) annoyed when Wild tries to touch them or steal their things, but it’s mostly playful. Harmless. There’s no bad blood between them. They all LOVE Wild! He’s such a little guy. And he’s a good brother. They WANT him to be close to them.

EVEN LEGEND.

(Legend’s just… Legend about it)

And on the communication thing! It’s true that only Wars, Time, and Spirit can telepathically shares ideas (and in Spirit’s case, whole conversations) with him, but that doesn’t mean that the others can’t understand him! Wild is VERY expressive, and the others have gotten very good at reading his body language! It’s a two way street- both sides need to put effort into being understood. Wild is so very loved. I need you to know that.

#the legend of zelda #chain as cryptids au #i answered question #cryptid lore #cryptid wild #cryptid time #sapphire rambles too long #please they LOVE HIM #he’s just a LITTLE GUY #links meet au

[risingscorchingsuns]

Do you think it had to be rengoku who died? Or could it have been a different character or hashira and still give the same effect?

AA THIS IS SUCH A GOOD QUESTION!! Okay im likely gonna go back and edit this later once i think of Better Words, but prepare for a Long Ass Leon Analysis Post

I think that while a similar effect could have happened had it been another Hashira, the fact that it was Rengoku affected not just Tanjiro, but the rest of the Corps in a massive ripple effect. I’m assuming that by asking this you’ve read my “why Rengoku’s death impacts the outcome of the series” analysis post, but regardless, im gonna start rambling now lol

Let’s turn it into a cause-and-effect formula. If [Hashira] dies after the Mugen Train Incident, it affects Tanjiro with [x] and the rest of the Corps with [y]. When Rengoku died, it devastated Tanjiro because of both his personal connection to Rengoku (Flame Breathing vs Sun Breathing, as well as Rengoku’s infectious brotherly attitude) and his respect for the Hashira as a whole. X is Tanjiro’s devastation and his exposure to the Actual Strongest Demons. Y, on the other hand, is much more powerful, because of Rengoku specifically. He was like an older brother to Mitsuri. He was an icon of strength and persistence for Tengen. He was a beacon of encouragement for everyone he encountered, and Rengoku was uniquely inspiring in that way. Rengoku, specifically. The latest link in the Flame Hashira chain, the Rengoku family legacy, he was really more legend than man. He was an unfalteringly blazing beacon of constant courage and flaming strength, and his loss hit especially hard, because of how unstoppable he always strove to be. Even the surlier Hashira like Sanemi and Obanai respected him, because he’s just that bright. He’s open, and approachable, and kind. He may be a legend, but he’s a human, living legend. He was friends with everyone, and impacted everyone’s lives just by being in them. The unceremonious and sudden nature of his death is what causes X to hit so hard for Tanjiro, and what causes Y to extend far beyond him.

If, for example, Sanemi was the one who dies at Mugen Train, things would’ve turned out much differently. Sanemi never accepted Nezuko, and probably would’ve died scorning her. This would cause X to be much less impactful for Tanjiro. He would still be devastated, because he’s Tanjiro, and because he holds a deep respect for all the Hashira, but Sanemi’s refusal to acknowledge Nezuko would significantly dampen the impact of his death. X would still hit hard, because Tanjiro is exposed to an immensely powerful warrior being unceremoniously taken out by a demon like Akaza, but Sanemi’s generally unapproachable nature as well as the fact that he stabbed Nezuko would significantly dampen the impact on Tanjiro. Additionally, Tanjiro doesn’t know Genya yet, so he wouldn’t have any personal motivation for sympathy. In the case of Rengoku, when he mentions Senjuro, that hits hard for Tanjiro, because they’re both eldest brothers. As for the rest of the Corps, they’d be devastated for the same reasons as Tanjiro- a Hashira has fallen, and that’s a rare and devastating casualty of war. But Sanemi doesn’t have the same social impact that Rengoku does, so ultimately I think neither X or Y would hit as hard.

Honestly im trying to stop myself from plugging every Hashira into this equation just for the sake of analysis, so I might come back to this later when I’ve gotten a bit more sleep lmao

Now let’s take a Hashira that Tanjiro has a personal connection to, like Shinobu or Giyuu. If Shinobu had come with Tanjiro to personally investigate Mugen Train, he would almost certainly blame himself for her death, and X would be a different flavor of powerful, because of her conversation with him in about Kanae’s dream. The death of any Hashira would cause Y to have some ripple effect, purely because it’s a Hashira, but ultimately, the only Hashira I believe could even start to rival Kyojuro’s influence is Gyomei, purely because he’s been a Hashira for so long. But no other Slayer had the same warmth and personable character that Kyojuro had, and that’s why his death in particular hits so hard. If Giyuu had died, Tanjiro would likely have been just as upset as he was with Rengoku- he’s witnessed Giyuu’s strength on multiple occasions, and Giyuu has staked his life on Nezuko. That’s something that Tanjiro won’t easily forget, and if Giyuu had died, it would easily devastate him to push himself harder, giving X the same emotional weight as Kyojuro’s death. However, because it’s Giyuu, Y would be MUCH less impactful, because a lot of the Hashira actively dislike him. ( @princeblue actually has an excellent analysis post on why he pisses the other Hashira off, I would recommend reading it, they make some excellent points!!)

Anyway, to restate my thesis, Rengoku’s death was as impactful as it was not just because he was a Hashira, but because he was Rengoku. He’s an infallible beacon of hope and warmth, and his unceremonious death sent a ripple effect through the entire Corps. He touches the lives of everyone he meets, intentionally or not- it’s just who he is. Much like Tanjiro, his passion is infectious, and his spark and drive spread to everyone who loved him after his death. It would still devastate Tanjiro to no end to watch a Hashira die in front of him, but it was Rengoku’s personal connection to not just Tanjiro, but the entire Corps that ultimately made him as impactful of a character as he was.

That last paragraph was a little shaky, I have a nasty habit of only doing analysis writing when it’s 4:30am and I should be sleeping, please ask me to clarify anything if I fucked up! I promise it makes so much sense in my head lmao

Thank you so much for this ask I’m literally happy stimming sitting here poking away at analysis posts nothing makes me happier than media-dissecting my blorbos

#leon rambles #leon askbox #rengoku kyojuro #demon slayer #analysis #demon slayer analysis #kny

[dominoxsquad]

Ok so. Like I said I’ve been thinking about Kallus and the Lasat Mercenary (who I’m going to be calling LM from now on for ease). This is gonna be SUPER long and a bit rambling but. Come on this thought journey with me.

So it feels like when it comes to LM, the general consensus is that he’s just… a brute. A monster, in some ways. But I couldn’t help wondering about that. Because sure, he could be a massive asshole who just likes killing Imps. But at the same time, he doesn’t have to be.

Here’s what we actually know about LM:

- He was a Mercenary who worked for Saw Gerrera

- He walked through the aftermath of an explosion picking off the people who survived.

- He let Kallus live.

We can assume he caused the explosion too, but since it isn’t confirmed there’s no way to confirm either way. But honestly I don’t think it really matters if he did that part specifically or not.

Let’s start with point 2. This feels like the thing people latch onto for why they think LM is a heartless brute, but… why?

Kallus was at the time of Onderon an ISB Agent being sent on a routine patrol. You’re not going to send out a whole group of intelligence agents to do a routine patrol. He was probably the only one, with the others would be Stormtroopers. Faceless soldiers that maybe Kallus knew at that point, but why would anyone else know them or care? Why would killing Stormtroopers make one a monster? Especially when we see so many others, characters we know and love, kill Stormtroopers and others. Every Star Destroyer or other Imperial ship destroyed is people killed. Not just Stormtroopers but officers too. Hell, even Kallus has, on screen, caused the death of one of his own men at least once. And he framed Lyste for treason, despite knowing he himself would probably be executed if found out.

Adding to the fact Rebels killing Stormtroopers is not odd at all, let’s take into account the explosion. There’s a lot we don’t know about it. Where was Kallus in relation to it? Was he close? Was he farther away? He just was knocked out and came to unable to move. Kallus says the injured never had a chance but… I think that may be truer than he probably thinks. They were Stormtroopers. The Empire didn’t give a shit when Kallus dragged himself back with a broken leg, why would they waste resources on unimportant soldiers?

So imagine. Imagine this lasat walking through the aftermath of the explosion, finishing the job for most of the injured. There’s no connection there. More Stormtrooper the same as all the ones killed before. But then there’s Kallus. Likely the only one with a face visible. The only one with a different uniform. Possibly looking up at him with fear. He’s not just a faceless soldier. He’s a person. And potentially an officer, someone the Empire may care enough about to save. Imagine it being a simple act of mercy, LM not killing Kallus. Imagine it being the same to make the deaths of the rest of the group members quick. But we see that incident through Kallus’s eyes only, which puts it through the lens of an Imperial.

I think something else that impacts how people see LM is the fact he worked for Saw Gerrera. And I say worked because we only know he did so in the past, and don’t even know where LM is or if he’s even alive still. And Gerrera is… a special kind of Intense. But LM was a mercenary. He might not do that much work with Gererra. And even if he did, that could very well have changed after the incident of Onderon. After all, he let Kallus live. He very well could have been on his own from then on.

Now here’s where things split a bit with what ifs. For what happened to LM and what it could be like if he and Kallus ever did meet again. Because what Kallus says on Bahryn is the whole of what we know about this mercenary.

Maybe he still works for Gerrera. Maybe he’s become the kind of person the fandom tends to settle on him being, especially with the fall of Lasan.

But maybe he doesn’t, either of his own choice or because Gerrera didn’t want him around after he let an Imperial live. Maybe he went back to Lasan after leaving Gerrera’s group, fighting and dying during its fall.

And now we get to what I have personally come to adopt as my favorite scenario.

Imagine. LM having left or been cast out of Gerrera’s group and striking out on his own. Doing other mercenary work, maybe trying help people and take out Imps where possible. Imagine him finding out about the fall of Lasan afterwards. Imagine that he ends up with the main Rebellion for whatever reason, and eventually encountering Zeb and Kallus. Kallus being afraid of him but at that point I’m sure he’s sort of found some peace about what happened. It wasn’t personal, no matter how it felt in the moment. Him being afraid, but honest. Telling LM that he had been on Lasan when it fell. That he’d been one of the people fighting. Imagine LM wanting to be angry, but… Kallus wouldn’t have been the only one. Even if he hadn’t been there what difference would it have made with how many people would have been there to clear a whole planet? Besides, Zeb trusts him. Zeb loves him. And Zeb was actually there, fighting for his home, and LM wasn’t. A different kind of survivor’s guilt, knowing again that one person wouldn’t have changed the outcome but at least LM would have been there to fight and die for his family and home. It isn’t easy, the anger is there, but at the same time I feel like there would be almost a sense of catharsis to it. LM meeting the person he showed mercy to years and years ago, finding that despite Kallus being on Lasan during its destruction he eventually did come around and risked everything for the rebellion, and (depending on when they meet) that he was part of the small group that managed to free Lothal from Imperial control. Things that he never could have done if LM had killed him that time.

Just… LM being a normal guy surviving in the galaxy. Full of trauma and guilt but who isn’t at that point. A normal guy who can kill because he thinks it’s helping but also capable of showing mercy. Someone who can find some closure in meeting Kallus but even more so in meeting Zeb. Because those two know what happened on Lasan. And more importantly, Zeb knows about Lira San.

#sorry if this makes no sense #alexsandr kallus #garazeb orrelios

[stagefoureddiediaz]

Ok so I’ve been chatting on discord with @theladyyavilee @mistmarauder and like you do I had a lightbulb moment!! Jess is an enabler and made me make this post so I’m sorry everyone in advance!!!

We are talking tsunami and the next level layering the writers have been doing. I really love that this show rewards us for rewatching and really looking at the details! 

I was rewatching the tsunami arc for watery reasons and it got me thinking about the line the incident command dude says (3x02 15:29 if you want to watch for yourself!)

 ‘we’ve already had two [waves] so far and can expect another 4or 5 before it starts to recede’ 

Well that got me thinking about it being deeper than a throw away line about the fact that tsunamis aren’t just a single wave of devastation, but actually multiple waves. We’re currently doing so research to establish when the water theme actually starts but I’m currently wondering if this line is the possible beginning of the water metaphor - the two waves we’ve had being what precedes the tsunami - so the truck bombing and Shannon’s death. 

Then the 4-5 expected waves to come after being the show telling us that there will be 4-5 things happen before we get to canon Buddie - before the water finds it’s level. The waves we’ve had since then are the well, the shooting and the lightning strike making 3 and we can maybe include Eddie’s breakdown as another one (although I’m not sure) which makes 4. We also know there’s going to be some big disaster at the end of the season (two trapped dads theory my beloved) which could take us to either 4 or 5 (depending on if we include the breakdown or not) suggesting that perhaps water will find its level the the end of this season/ the beginning of the next season and therefore Buddie canon will happen shortly thereafter!

If we think about everything in a little more detail and think about how those 4-5 more expected waves would decrease in strength each time (as the water settles back to its level) and them being key marking points in their relationship - the most intense ones that have the biggest impact - being at the beginning and clearing a path for the subsequent ones which are no less important, but having seemingly less dramatic results as they are just building on what’s already there.

But lets, for a minute, go right back to the beginning - back to season two - things then begin to make even more sense - tsunamis are started/created by underwater earthquakes which means the earthquake in s2 is the starting point for everything (If that’s how this came about the writers of this show are so genius I can’t even begin to put into words how much I love them and their insane cleverness!) it is the big event that sets everything that comes after into motion - and it is the event that actually establishes buddifer (Buck mets Chris post earthquake when he drives Eddie to pick him up from school).

Then you get that vacuum where all the water heads away from land as the tsunami builds its strength - Christophers line ‘Where did all the water go’ is kind of a metaphor for the vacuum created with Shannon’s death. She was Christopher’s previous water level - his having two parents (even if she was absent he still carried hope that she would return - then she did. Her loss creates turbulence for him (and Eddie and by extension Buck) and his waters are no longer level. I love the idea of this vacuum being created at this moment, but the events leading to it had already been set in motion before she even came back into the picture - that this massive change was already incoming. 

The truck bomb is the first wave - and actually thats when we see Eddie’s attachment to Buck in a physical way - the hand holding - and it leads to our first Buddie hug (and technically the second as well). It also marks the point where we end up with both of them being single.

The tsunami is wave 2 - the big shift here is obviously the deepening of  Buck and Christopher’s relationship - the biggest and most important pivotal thing after Buck and Eddie’s own developing relationship - because Buck having an independent and strong relationship with Chris is a requirement if buddie are going to work - the show needs to establish them having their own special bond which is separate from Chris and Eddie and from the 3 of them together as a unit.

With those two things established - the two big waves - then the smaller waves can surge in - they don’t need to reach as far because the base has been created by the first two waves - their path has already been cleared making these subsequent waves’ jobs are ‘easier’.

So wave 3 (or wave 1 of the 4-5 further waves) is the well - with it comes the big and key change of the will - and we continue the link to water.

Wave 4 (wave 2 of the further waves) is the shooting which as well as revealing the will, independently continues to further the father-son relationship between Buck and Chris. I can’t think of any obvious watery connections here - beyond the pool of Eddies blood we see spilling onto the asphalt. 

If we assume Wave 5 (wave 3 of the further waves) is Eddie’s breakdown - which ties all 3 of them closer together and establishes just how deep the level of trust is between Buck and Eddie. there isn’t an obvious water connection to Eddies breakdown - beyond the tears - but the episode itself involves several water related accidents or scenes (Shark cage rescue, and all the fish from the freezer and we get Maddie playing with Jee in the bathtub as well).

Then wave 6 (wave 4 of the further waves) is the lightning strike - which just continues to build on all that’s come before - it doesn’t really reveal anything new just leads to a big jump in the amount of buddifer scenes we’ve had since. again we have a watery connection with the heavy rain!

And the potential final wave is the one we haven’t seen (which would be wave 5 of the further waves)- but could be the two trapped dads of it all - both of them being at risk at the same time and the realisation that potentially comes out of that - it not necessarily being a confession moment, but the moment before it - before the waters calm and find their level and then they’ll be in the right place to move forward - together!! We know there is a watery connection to whatever this happens to be from the bts we’ve had - filming at the Queen Mary and the road collapse is next to/ over water.

So there we have it - either the writers set out the roadmap to Buddie way back when, or I’ve gone insane and should probably be locked up in an institution - I leave it to you to decide which!

#water theme my beloved #tsunami arc my most beloved #tsunami arc - the gift that keeps on giving #water water everywhere #water metaphors #this show is next level insane #I will be flinging myself off a cliff and into the ocean #911 speculation #911 spoilers #911 thinky thoughts #911 on fox #911 fox #buddie #buck #eddie diaz #evan buckley

[smolbean-17]

Who I think is going to die from least to most likely

(Reminder: a character death is only well-written if it serves a purpose, and isn’t done just for shock value)

Omega

For hells sake if I hear another person say they think Omega is gonna die I’m gonna lose it. SHE WON’T DIE. She is a CHILD. She is the MAIN CHARACTER. In a CHILDREN’S PROGRAM. She will survive. Like Jen Corbett said, this isn’t HBO. This is Disney. It would be equivalent to Disney killing off Elsa. Could they tease Omega’s death? Yes. Could she go missing like Ezra? Yes (however very unlikely) Could they kill her off. No. She’s not dying. Disney Princesses don’t die. Their loved ones however…

Batcher

I don’t believe they’ll kill her off for a pretty much the same reasons I know they won’t kill Omega. Everyone hates it when a dog dies. And she is such a new character. It would serve no purpose other than to just piss everyone off. And she’s perfect for Star Wars merch.

Echo

I know there’s been some worry over him because he hasn’t been in the season a lot, but for that very same reason I’m certain he’s in the clear. It would be a massive disservice to fans and to Echo himself to kill him off when he’s had hardly any screen time. There wouldn’t be as much emotional impact if they decided to kill him off in a show he is hardly in. If they were planning to kill him off, they’d be giving him the same screen time as Tech got in season 2. I honestly think they’re leading up to a spin-off series with him and Rex. Echo is safe. For now.

Wrecker

Episode 11 actually cemented in my belief that he will be safe, with him getting injured and his close call with death. It was a fake out death, to get our hearts pumping and wondering if he’s a goner. If he were to die sometime this season, ep 11 would’ve been the time. But he doesn’t have as much plot armor as the others above. So his fate is still up in the air.

Crosshair

He still might very well die in the end. But I firmly stand by what I’ve said before: Redemption ≠ Sacrifice. He is doing his part to better himself and earn his own redemption. It doesn’t need to be earned by dying. They’re focusing massively on his hand tremor and loss of accuracy/skill. It would be so much more satisfying if he were to find healing “on his own” like Omega said. “There’s hope for us yet.” Hope for Crosshair. People can make mistakes. They can get better. And they can live to see better days. I’m hoping to see him make a crucial shot that ultimately saves the day at the end.

They didn’t kill off Zuko at the end of ATLA. They let him live. They let him have happiness after experiencing sorrow. I hope they give Crosshair the same.

Though, I will say, it would be a devastating blow if his tremors only ceased as he took his last breaths. There is no guarantee he’ll make it out of the series alive.

Hunter

I still think Hunter is the most likely to die, for a lot of reasons. While Crosshair’s arc is clearly defined and moving in a positive direction (with some hurtles along the way) Hunter’s story is much less clear. He has been avoidant the entire series. Avoidant and unsure, except for when Omega’s safety is in question. He doesn’t want to join the cause to rescue the clones. He doesn’t want to fight anymore. He wants a peaceful life. It would be incredibly impactful if the man who wanted nothing to do with the cause, died for it. Gaining peace and rest in another way, similar to Tony Stark (there are a billion similarities between his relationship with Omega and Tony’s relationship with Peter Parker, but that’s for another time)

Hunter will finally get the opportunity to save Omega, which he failed to do the first time. And he will finally make a stand. I think the entire season has been leading up to Hunter learning to fully trust Crosshair and hand over responsibility of Omega to him.

Lastly…

They will be going back to Pabu. The ending of the series will play out there. They might not stay there for good, but they might go back to lay someone to rest there.

The beautiful flowers on the weeping maya tree (weeping willows represent grief and mourning btw… you see where I’m going with this) will be laid on the grave(s). The moment I saw Omega find the rare white flower on that very specific kind of tree, I knew it would be important later on.

Lula and the last remnants of Tech are on Pabu. I don’t know if Tech is really alive or not, but if he really is dead, I could see them laying to rest not only Tech (his goggles) and whoever else dies, but also what the Bad Batch was (Lula) Those items will come into play in the end. I bet my life on it.

I think it will be a beautiful ending. Beautiful, and sad.

#the bad batch #star wars #clone wars #sw tbb #tbb #star wars tbb #hunter the bad batch #crosshair the bad batch #the bad batch spoilers #omega the bad batch #wrecker the bad batch #echo the bad batch

[yeyinde]

Haha, I also spoil myself intentionally, but for the plot of movies, tv shows, and games I’m not super invested in. If I accidentally spoil myself (especially if I learn a character dies) I’ll cope by telling myself “I don’t know how/when it happened though”

Anyways Major Character Death!!

I’m SO disappointed in them killing off Soap and especially in how they did it! No buildup or anything! To me it was disrespectful to the character and to Neil Ellice. And then the 141 don’t even say anything and it cuts to them spreading his ashes with a simple goodbye! They could have at least made them a little more upset 🥲 also I hate how abruptly the game ended. Makarov gets away, but no mention to that at the end.

I had also initially requested what would become infinity in the palm of your hand (eternity in an hour) as a way to “cope” with 2009 Soap’s death because it’s always been on the back of my mind for years (weird, I know). But now after playing the new MW3 campaign I look like boo boo the fool because of who went and got killed off 😭 now every time I go back to reread it, it will be painful knowing what’s in store for reader for their current reincarnation of Soap.

Tldr I’m kinda not okay with MW3.

From what I've seen, it feels like they pulled it out of a hat. All names went in, but his (amongst others) came out. And I guess it's safe because he died in the OG, so the backlash can easily be deflected from within their own community when other fans come to their defence over this choice. But idk.

I agree with everything you said. It doesn't make any sense. It's jarring and misplaced, and canonically pointless. I'm not against character death. Grief is a powerful thing. But I just hate when it's so contrived and needless. It was definitely done for shock value over plot/character growth and I think they were trying to re-create the massive storm that happened when OG Soap died because they know they don't have much else going for them. It just massively missed the mark because: a) Price and Gaz had no tangible in-game relationship with Soap the same way Ghost did; and b) what does his death really amount to in the end? Nothing. It feels cobbled together and poorly thought out. It's sad when Portal 2 has better writing than your whole remake combined. Honestly, it's kind of impressive how little thought they put into this. I'm getting flash backs to DGG's Halloween.

If it's any consolation, the mythology I based the reincarnation off of in infinity would essentially just be neverending. An ouroboros. The events would happen much the same way. A knock on the door. Spiral of grief. A bog. A deal. Restart. So, you'd just wake up again and live life until whatever the old you made a deal with decides it's time to collect. You're forever stuck in a loop with your soulmate until you get it right.

The rest is just how I kinda wish it went, but this was getting very long because I have more thoughts on this than I anticipated lmao 😅

Personally, I think it would have been much more interesting if they brought in a new passel of characters and slowly chipped off the main cast in a series of horrible decisions that slowly begin to feel hollow and empty. That leave you, the player, feeling emotionally gutted with each new chapter because the choices previously are absolutely impacting the way they move forward, but they're too deep into their own revenge fantasy to see it until the very end when it's too late. Give me actions have consequences and every choice you make is directly responsible for someone's death. The realities of war. And what happens when you give a group of people the power to play god in countries they know nothing about. It would have matched the gritty tone they tried to go for with the trailers and actually served as an interesting conversation about war and how we tend to deify the military when they're just men with too much power in their hands. Instead, we have a death that means nothing. That arguably happened much too early in the series so the payoff is solely meant for clicks and reaction channels. Pointless.

And Makarov. A Russian Ultra Nationalist. I feel like that title alone says everything for me, and yet. They still somehow managed to give a Russian War Criminal so many wins. I'm just so irritated by it all.

#cod spoilers #mw3 spoilers #mwiii spoilers #call of duty spoilers #cod 2023 spoilers #SO MAD!!! #but also #it was a cheap way to get more engagement with their fanbase and theyre technically protected against backlash so #poor writing for the win (again)

[kvetchinglyneurotic]

I wouldn’t mind hearing your thoughts on the reality tv fic research you’re doing, if you had any thoughts or observations you wanted to share, be they fic-related or otherwise 🌹

So the reality TV fic is really the first chapter/prologue of a longer fic that covers Jamie's reintegration into the team and developing friendship with Sam in the first half of season 2, while also having some complicated feelings about Amsterdam and his time on Lust Conquers All as Sam and Jan rope him into their effort to get the player auction during at the charity gala changed to something less terrible. While I don't necessarily think Jamie's experience on LCA was itself traumatic, the structure of reality dating shows might poke at some sore spots in a way he might not consciously register, same as the auction did in season 1. 

Unhinged ramble on reality TV dating and how it might affect Jamie under the read more:

(My research was mainly focused on Love Island UK, the real-world equivalent of LCA; however, some of the rules, filming practices, ect. are based on industry norms that I don't know for 100% certain apply to this show) 

There are some aspects of the reality TV experience that Jamie would likely be better equipped to handle than most contestants — while the producers do go out and scout people and I gather that some (or possibly most) of them are social media "micro-influencers," one of the main things they tend to struggle with is not only the sudden rise to fame and the volume of criticism that comes with it, but the fact that it's very temporary fame and they have to reintegrate into regular life and a regular job afterwards. Jamie struggles with depression after leaving LCA, but he clearly didn't put the same stock in it as a career move as most contestants do — his depression is tied to his football career (or rather, his temporary lack thereof) and his dad; LCA was primarily a way to get away from James rather than something he was invested in for its own merits or that he likely expected to have much of an impact on his life in the long term.

He also has an advantage when it comes to contract negotiations. Reality TV contracts are extremely extensive and typically involve the contestants waiving the right to sue in the event of... basically any kind of harm (emotional/psychological distress, injury, illness, death, ect), as well as their right to privacy — many shows specify that they have hidden cameras and microphones throughout the entire house, including areas like bedrooms and even bathrooms, and that they can use, edit, ect. anything they record however they want, including frankenbiting, ie cutting together snippets of audio to form sentences that the contestants never actually said — and their contact with the outside world, as contestants aren't allowed to keep their phones or go on social media. They also often tie the contestants to the production company for several months afterwards, which may involve doing public appearances or even restricting activities related to the show (this is less relevant for something like LCA, but American Idol season 2 contracts didn't let contestants sing anywhere outside the show, even at like. private gatherings with friends and family).

I imagine Jamie's contract would include a lot of these same rules, but unlike most contestants, he has an agent (even if we know the agent kind of sucks) who may have gotten him better terms. That being said, based on the way his agent talks about him going on LCA in 2x02, there is a distinct possibility that he signed on as an impulse decision and actually didn't have anyone look over the contract, so really whether or not he had an advantage here depends on how pre-meditated his decision was at the time. Another area where he has an advantage is purely demographic: he's a white man, and reality dating shows have a massive problem with racism and sexism that affects casting, how the contestants are framed once they're on the show, and even voting behaviour. 

Prospective cast members undergo a very thorough vetting process that involves a background check, medical exam, psychological evaluation, and interviews with basically everyone they've ever talked to, it seems like. How effective the psych eval is in rooting out people who are likely to be negatively affected by the show is debatable — I read an interview with a former contestant on the Bachelor who said she suspects she was chosen because she was emotionally fragile after a recent breakup with her fiancé — and they seem to be more geared towards keeping people off the show who are likely to be physically violent with the other contestants. Jamie fits the profile of someone who might be chosen pretty well, actually: he's combative and has a big enough personality to be involved in drama, but he doesn't actually start physical fights. 

Once contestants arrive, their belongings are searched for any contraband alcohol or drugs, as well as clothes with logos from non-sponsor brands. Shows generally don't allow them to keep their phones or other electronics — Love Island contestants have cellphones that they sometimes use to take pictures and where they instructions via text, but these don't appear to be their own personal phones. (Sometimes contestants appear to be posting on social media during the season, but it's actually someone else running their account.) They're also not allowed to leave the villa except on scheduled dates (some shows do allow the contestants out, but they have to ask permission first). This is... kind of creepy, honestly, but I suspect that with James being on Jamie's case the way he was after he came back to Manchester, the lack of contact with the outside world may have been part of what appealed to him.

Life in the villa is very regimented: two producers live there with them and the contestants are told when to eat and when to sleep. This is another area that Jamie might cope with better than the average contestant, since he'd be used to working with nutritionists and generally having many more aspects of his life than the general person planned out, and the dietary restrictions are likely less strict. While conversations aren't scripted, contestants are often told to go to a specific location and to have a conversation with a specific person about a specific topic, which produces the slightly odd effect that, especially in the first couple of episodes, they spent all their time analyzing their relationships/prospective relationships with people they just met and barely know. I suspect this might be part of why it's hard to build sustainable romantic relationships in this environment — obviously communicating about what everyone wants in a relationship is good, but it doesn't allow for the regular conversations that make up most of the process of getting to know and like another person.

Which brings us to: kayfabe. Kayfabe is a wrestling term which refers to the implicit agreement between wrestlers and their fans to act as though the staged performances are authentic. Part of what I suspected tripped Jamie up during his stint on LCA and got him kicked off is that he's... not great at this part. He'd probably have some form of PR training and he has experience doing brand deals, but ultimately footballers don't have to pretend they're doing anything other than trying to win. Reality dating contestants can't say that they're there to build their brand or win the cash prize; the only motivation they can publicly acknowledge (not contractually, just in terms of coming off well to the audience) is finding love, and I suspect that Jamie was maybe a bit more obvious than he should have been about the fact that he approached it as a competition more than as an opportunity to find a relationship, which I don't think he was actually interested in at that point (or at any point, for the aro Jamie truthers among us).

There's also a bit of a tension between the producers' putative goal of capturing authentic reactions and creating certain storylines. The result is that they try to elicit certain reactions during the talking head interviews without stating outright what they want the contestant to say, and I suspect Jamie and the producers would find each other frustrating to deal with given his blunt approach to social interaction and difficulty with subtext and other forms of indirect communication. Similarly, interactions between the contestants — particularly the contestants of opposite genders — are governed by a set of extremely heteronormative social norms in which the contestants reaffirm their relationships through by, for instance, acting jealous or worried when their current partner is talking to another person as a sign that they're serious about the relationship. In addition to just generally not being a sexist dick even in his prick era, he is, again, just not that great with subtext. Ultimately, I think Jamie attracts the public's ire because he's too obvious about the fact that he's approaching LCA as a game to be won — while viewers are generally aware that reality TV is constructed, the contestants acknowledging that damages their popularity.

And now onto the potentially triggering stuff. First up: the alcohol. Most reality dating shows involve a lot of drinking, although instances of light drinking (eg sipping on champaign, drinking beer on dates) are generally more common than heavy drinking like taking shots or the contestants being shown to be very drunk, though it does happen. Some shows have an open bar, while others control the consumption of alcohol more closely and only give the contestants one bottle at a time. Contestants on Love Island are often shown drinking (usually champaign, or at least something in champaign flutes) from what appears to be an open bar, but I'm not sure which approach they actually use. I've seen some former contestants (on The Bachelor, not Love Island) attribute the frequency with which everyone drinks to the fact that they don't really have anything to do besides interact with the other contestants, get involved in drama, and drink — they don't have personal electronics, obviously, but they also aren't allowed to bring books or other forms of entertainment. Jamie does drink in canon and he goes out clubbing with his teammates, but the consistency with which everyone is drinking and the potential pressure to drink more himself as a result might make it feel a bit more fraught, particularly if part of the reason he doesn't remember losing his virginity in Amsterdam is because James forced him to drink.

Second: consent in reality dating shows is... weird. Once they sign the contract and enter the villa, the contestants pushed — though not technically legally required — to engage in various forms of intimacy which in any other situation would be considered pretty clear violations of their consent. Couples are formed unilaterally: in the season of Love Island that I watched (season 8), the initial couples were chosen by the voting public, and couples are re-formed in ceremonies in which, for instance, a newly arrived man choses between the two single women and the one who isn't chosen is sent home (or vice versa). In essence, only one member of the couple (or neither, in the case of public voting) actually has a say in whether they want to be with the other person. These couples then sleep in the same bed (in a room they share with all the other contestants), and the challenges similarly often involve one contestant choosing another to kiss, offer a lap dance, demonstrate their favourite sexual position, or perform other forms of intimacy (these examples are all from the first challenge of the first episode of season 8). In essence, while the contestants could technically refuse, they probably also wouldn't be on the show for long, and the whole thing is very much built on the presumption of consent to these more "mild" forms of intimacy. 

Other Things: 

Part way through, the men are sent to a different villa where they meet a new set of women, while the women stay at the original villa and meet a new set of men. I imagine the Jamie cheating on Amy with Denise in a hot tub incident probably occurred during something like this. 

For some reason the announcer always calls them "boys" and "girls." He does it for both genders so at least it's not sexist, but I still don't like it. 

If you want to read more about consent in reality TV dating, I found this chapter very interesting: Sreyashi Mukherjee and Dacia Pajé, "'You Can't Force Someone to Want You': Investigating Consent, Tokenism, and Play in Reality Dating Shows," in The Forgotten Victims of Sexual Violence in Film, Television and New Media: Turning to the Margins, ed. Stephanie Patrick and Mythili Rajiva (Palgrave Macmillan) [tried to attach the pdf but I got it through institutional access from my university and it won't let me 😞)

#lust conquers all #jamie tartt #it's so long i'm sorry #asks #i love when someone asks me about something i wanted to ramble about anyway #kvetch oc