I'm very sorry to the blog runner for getting personal here, but I feel it's necessary necessary get across what I want. I think I have a fair reason to be uncomfortable with Hey Melissa, as someone who, in childhood, had a girl force me to play dog with her by tying a rope around my neck and yanking me along by the makeshift leash that was so tight it left indents in my neck. Forgive me if that story hits a little too close to my trauma! I have nothing against the story's existence or the people who love it, I'm glad! But no one has the right to diss what legitimately triggers other people as "not being able to handle horror" just because they have different limits to you. I know for a fact Killer Track was a difficult episode for some people who have issues with unreality and superstition, and Perky's Buds was hard for people with emetophobia, and I've never seen anyone claim those people just "can't handle horror." Yes, Hatchetfield is horror. A big mixed bag of light and heavy horror. And everyone has different limits of what they can take, different things will effect different people differently. I'm sure every Hatchetfield story will hit badly and upset someone out there at some point, even ones the majority would consider the most tame. Being upset by something specific doesn't mean we can't handle horror, it means we can't handle that specific topic. And no one should have to disclose their trauma to be "valid" for being upset by something. We should all be a little more respectful of things like that.
Okay but I just saw the little mermaid and the amount of times I teared up because her voice is just so incredible. Like when she was singing the end of part of your world and her hand reaches up through hole in the cavern and she sounds so emotional. Like damn okay
trust me on this one, okay? - [03x08 - bsg, hero]
saturnalia in space from scratch [12/24]
~ a bsg christmas calender by @madamairlock & @lalalauraroslin 💜💜
12. moments of reconciliation
Their argument lingered in his mind. It had been more of a heated disagreement than a true argument, both exhausted and their tempers shorter than usual. He didn’t stew it on as he made his way back to his quarters, only regretted the way he had contributed to the escalation. He was fully prepared to apologize and move beyond it as long as she wasn’t ready for another fight. He nodded to the Marine who opened the hatch door and stepped through, but stopped at the sight that greeted him.
Laura stood on the couch, one foot on the back with her hands braced against the wall. She held a piece of tape in her mouth and glanced over her shoulder at him, but quickly turned back to what she was doing. With one hand and her teeth, she ripped the tape in half and added it to the small snowflake her other hand held against the bulkhead.
“Laura, what the frak are you doing?” His words came out sharper than he intended, but he was too focused on getting to her before she fell and got hurt.
“Decorating.” She started to lean down for another snowflake, but he grabbed her hips and held them tightly.
“You’re going to get hurt.” He looked up at her, eyes narrowed behind his glasses and a firm frown fixed on his face.
“I’m fine, Bill. Please let go.” Her voice was calm and she reached for the snowflake again, ignoring how he leaned closer and held her steady. “If I fall now, it’s because you’re weighing me down and throwing off my balance,” she warned.
Remembering the apology he had planned, he sighed and forced himself to let go before he took a small step back. “I’m sorry,” he sighed, still keeping a close eye on her.
She grew quiet as she went back to decorating, adding a few more snowflakes to the area behind the couch. When she was done, she extended her hand to Bill and he helped her down, his eyes roaming over her to make sure she was okay.
“You’re hovering,” she pointed out softly.
“I’m sorry,” he repeated, his eyes meeting hers. “For hovering and for arguing.”
“I know.” She ran her fingers up his arm, over his shoulder, and finally cupped his face. “I’m sorry too.”
“We still need to figure out what to do with the Argo Navis.” He shook his head and wrapped his arm around her waist, his other still holding hers.
“You were right about the ultimatum. If the captain doesn’t want to cooperate…” She let the sentence trail off, not liking the resolution but acknowledging its necessity.
“Go back to decorating. I’ll take care of it.” He kissed her softly but she dropped her hand and shook her head.
“I’ll be there. But thank you.”
He nodded, allowing them a moment to just enjoy each other before they returned to the unpleasant task that awaited them.