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#that the writers are trying and failing at
flower-boi16 · 2 days
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The Millie Problem
The first Helluva Boss short came out and...it was mid. It's cute and harmless, sure, but it's also nothing special or anything that great. The short once again tries and fails to give Millie any real depth and it made me realize the biggest flaw with Millie as a character...
....the writers don't know how to give her depth. I've talked this before but now it seems like a fairly common thing for Millie as a character that it's time to make a post about this. The writers clearly want to give Millie depth but like I said the problem is that they don't seem to know HOW, and here I'm going to explain why the writers' attempts at giving Millie depth simply don't work.
In Season 1 Millie kinda just...existed. She was there. She had little personality or character depth beyond being Moxxie's wife, she was completely one-dimensional as a character.
Season 2 would come and try to give her depth with Unhappy Campers, and this is where the problem begins to arise. Instead of actually focusing on Millie as a character, Unhappy Campers wasted it's runtime on focusing on Moxxie being jealous and decided to just. Randomly give Millie validation issues completely out of nowhere.
I've spoken before about this doesn't work, so I'll just explain it quick; it comes out of nowhere. Millie has never shown to want validation from others, there was no foreshadowing or build-up to this, thus it feels forced and rushed. It's just a random character flaw the writers pulled out their ass in a rushed and failed attempt at giving Millie depth.
But it doesn't give her depth because it came out of nowhere. This flaw is also never explored upoun; the show never explores this insecurity or why Millie even has it. Feels tacked on to her.
It is, essentially, a rushed attempt at giving her depth. This is a conflict that comes completely out of nowhere and is heavily underdeveloped. It does little for Millie as a character and fails to give her depth.
The new short is the second instance of this; once again we have a conflict where Sally is upset that Millie moved away and they reconcile in the end. This conflict is at least better than the other two of three times is happened, however, it still has the same problems; it doesn't really do that much for Millie as a character. It comes out of nowhere and is explored very little.
It's not enough to develop Millie as a character, it simply feels like the bare minimum. Once again; it's a conflict that comes out of nowhere, is explored very little, and gives little depth to Millie as a character. It once again, feels tacked on.
Now we're going to go into leak territory here as a future episode called GhostFuckers shows the third instance of the writers attempting to give Millie depth. How are they going to do it this time?
By making Millie suicidal of course! ....wait I'm sorry what???? Like with Unhappy Campers I've spoken before about why this doesn't work but of the three instances, this is easily the worst one. Why is Millie being suicidal here??? WHY have her be suicidal in the first place??? What's the point?????
This adds nothing to Millie as a character and once again feels forced and tacked on. Like the other two instances, it comes completely out of nowhere. Plus it just flat out makes no sense! Why does Millie apparently hate herself for "being a killing machine" when that is LITERALLY THE THING HER HUSBAND LOVES ABOUT HER AND WHEN THAT'S THE THING THAT MAKES HER ONE OF THE BEST MEMBERS OF THE GROUP???? WHY DOES SHE HATE HERSELF??? AND WHY IS SHE SUDDENELY SUICIDAL???? WHY DOES SHE SUDDENLY FEEL LIKE A BURDEN TO HER HUSBAND????? Once again, it's a forced attempt at giving Millie depth and feels tacked on.
It comes out of nowhere & is extremely forced. Granted, the episode hasn't come out yet, however judging by the leaks it seems like the episode will be the third instance of the writers randomly introducing conflicts out of nowhere in order to give Millie depth.
It's clear that the writers want to flesh out Millie as a character, but the problem is that they don't seem to know how. They constantly try introducing random conflicts for Millie to try and give her character depth, but they fail because every time the writers try to give Millie depth, it always comes out of nowhere. They always feel rushed, tacked on, and they just don't add anything to her as a character. It just feels like the bare minimum.
I want to like Millie, I really do, but it seems like the writers just don't know what to do with her anymore.
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eyesfullofsttars · 2 days
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☆ obsessed with the idea of ellie & abby being mothers
synopsis: a few headcanons of abigail and ellie being mothers, from the way they raise the baby to the smallest details!!!
notes: hiii!!! i've just been thinking about these two being mothers for the past few days and this came up—sorry if it's simple or too dumb. (don't take it too seriously pls)
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I'm still not sure whether they would prefer having a girl or a boy. It seems it wouldn't matter much to them, as they would raise the baby the same way regardless. However, these two are mothers of a boy!!!
They speak to their baby as though he were a responsible adult who understands everything perfectly and frown when someone uses a high-pitched voice or baby talk.
Abby is the one who always gets up in the middle of the night if the baby cries. She automatically wakes up and goes to see what's wrong with her son.
Meanwhile, Ellie doesn't wake up at night, but she reads a dinosaur book to the baby before bed, tucks him in, and gives him a goodnight kiss on the forehead.
Ellie is enthusiastic about her baby, playing energetically and carefree, tickling him, putting him on her shoulders, and playing with his hands. She's proud of her baby and believes he's the best.
Abby is not so calm, paying attention to her son's safety. She comes from a family of doctors —she's a doctor herself— and watches Ellie carefully whenever she holds the baby. Abby feels the need to keep her son close at all times, either in her strong arms or on her lap, playfully touching his nose or gently stroking his hair.
Ellie can spend hours watching Abby take a nap with their baby. She sees Abby sitting on the couch with the baby on her lap, cuddled against her chest and holding her shirt tightly with his small hand, afraid of losing contact. They breathe softly, calmly together, which Ellie finds adorable — making her feel like the luckiest woman in the world.
At first, Abby worried about seeing Ellie handle the baby so lightly, but she has become accustomed to Ellie's relaxed attitude. Abby watches carefully to avoid accidents, but one of her favorite things is listening to her baby and Els laugh together at something silly Ellie does, causing Abby to laugh too.
Abby "I want to name our son after a writer" Anderson versus Ellie "Let's name our son after a constellation" Williams — Els won!
Ellie helps her son learn to speak by playing her guitar, singing songs about letters, animals, and the names of family and friends.
Abby cheers and celebrates every time she sees the baby trying to stand, keeping his balance by holding onto the couch. She's proud of her little prodigy and also believes her baby is the best.
Ellie lets her son trace the lines of her tattoo and even color the spaces with markers. She accepts without complaint, extending her arm for her child to do his art.
Abby lets her son comb her hair. She loosens her blonde hair and trusts her baby's hands as he tries to comb her long hair, clumsily attempting a braid but failing.
Ellie can't help but swear in front of the baby, as she hasn't managed to change her language yet. She often ends up letting out a curse word, especially when the baby does something that excites her.
She might say something like, “Fuck yeah, you're so intelligent, kiddo!” Or, whenever the baby cries for no reason, Ellie will get completely flustered and not know what to do, like, “What the hell do you want from me, dude? I can't help you if you don't tell me!”
On the other hand, Abby doesn't see the appeal in swearing in front of their son. So, whenever a curse word slips out of Ellie's mouth, Abby quickly exclaims; “Language, Williams!”
No matter where she is in the house, she can always hear Ellie swearing, which ends with Ellie responding with something like, “Fuck, sorry, babe. Shit, right, sorry, buddy. It just comes out like verbal vomit; I can't control it.”
Every time a rock song plays, Ellie can't help but do headbanging, and her son joins her in the fun. Both end up in the kitchen, energetically moving their heads to the music and dancing around.
For every special occasion, such as Valentine's Day, birthdays, or even Easter, Abby doesn't hesitate to buy flowers for Ellie and her son.
Both understand their child perfectly. The child might babble something unintelligible, but they simply nod, comprehending every word.
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the-massive-simp · 2 days
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I've been thinking about fem/gn reader losing their virginity to kaeya, venti and kaveh... But maybe they accidentally get hurt and have to stop? I wanna know how they'd act when something like that happens (:
a/n: I love this kind of prompt <3 here you go anon! I'm slowly trying to fight writer's block so its only headcanons and not drabbles but I tried my best. sadly there's no venti because i dont really feel comfortable writing suggestive or nsfw things with him (i know i got your request before changing my rules so you did nothing wrong. sorry for the inconvenience). and remember everyone: a yes can turn into a no at any moment, and that's completely fine. consent is key. also I think that my love for kaveh shows in this one because his part is twice kaeya's one
warnings: it's not graphic smut but sex is mentioned so don't read if you're uncomfortable with that. no mentions of protections (make sure use them irl)
♡Kaeya♡
I imagine Kaeya being a super sex positive person, like for him sex is not a big deal as long as there's respect for the other person
so he was probably ready to have sex with you since you started dating 💀
but of course he didn't push you, he waited for you to be ready to have your first time with him
one time you have dinner at his place and an heated make up sessions evolves in discarding eachother clothes
he asks for your consent like 100 times while you two move to the bedroom
he knows how important foreplay is, so he makes sure to prepare you for the main act
then he slowly pushes himself in, an heavy breath leaving his lips as he hides his face in your neck, his arms supporting him so he doesn’t put all of his weight on you
you immediately feel uncomfortable
the stretch feels too much and its almost painful
at first you think it's normal but it doesn't go away even after he begins to gently trust in you
if anything, it gets worse, but he fails to notice tour discomfort
tears start to spill from your eyes as you put your hands on kaeya chest and tell him to stop
he immediately freezes, concern and guilt flooding his face
"Can I pull out?"
you nod and he backs away from your body, opting to sit back to give you some space
"Did it hurt? Did I do something wrong? Should I go get anything?"
he listens to you as you try to explain him how you felt
he goes getting a warm cloth to gently clean you up before embracing you in his arms
he feels really bad for not having noticed your discomfort sooner
you tell him that's its fine, you thought you were ready but maybe you were too nervous
you two keep talking about it for a while until you fall asleep
after that for a while he's a bit reluctant to try again because he doesn't want to hurt you
but when you tell him that you really want to take this step with him, he finally agrees
expect 3 hours of foreplay
♡Kaveh♡
now now
sweet kaveh loves to spoil you, taking you out to have dinner and go shopping
however his wallet does not enjoy it as much as he does
so you often have dates where you just go for a walk together or have a picnic
it's during one of those dates that he casually mentions the subject of sex
now, he doesn’t want to force you but he loves you so much and the idea of you two doing that together looks amazing to him
the conversation its not meant to push you, but rather to offer you an occasion to talk about it together and see if you feel the same about him
when you tell him you're ready (be it that same date or after years) he gets so excited
he can't believe you're going to share the magic moment of your first time with him of all people
he probably asks you if you two can go at your place since he doesn't want alhaitham around
once you two get down to business, he's the sweetest guy ever
he kisses every single inch of your body, basically worshipping you
makes sure to keep eye contact with you most of the time so he can notice if anything is wrong
after the foreplay, he lets you get on top of him, straddling his lap while his back is propped up by some pillows
he wants you to be the one in charge so you can choose the pace of events
the moment you lower yourself on him, he knows something is wrong
yes, he does feel a lot of pleasure from finally being inside of you, but he doesn't miss the face you make
when after a few seconds he sees tears pooling in your eyes he has the confirmation of his suspects
he immediately grabs your hips and pulls you up, making you sit on his thighs before comfortly rubbing your arms and shoulders
"What's wrong baby?"
he's so gentle with you, holding you close while you sniffle in his neck, hands resting on his chest
he strokes your hair and reassures you that you don't have to do anything if you're not ready, that he'd wait a thousand years for you, that he loves you as much as before, that sex is not the important thing in your relationship
he waits for you to calm down before asking you what exactly you think went wrong
if you tell him you want to try again he's completely fine with it, but he becomes even more attentive and gentle, making sure that this time you'll be able to enjoy it
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excuseme-greentea · 2 days
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written all over your face (T, 2.5k)
my first bucktommy fic! because they make my heart flutter! and who knows, they might even help me overcome the writer's block
A completely smitten Buck decides he wants to keep Tommy all to himself for just a while longer. When an accidental goodbye kiss exposes their new relationship, the 118 wants to be respectful – but when has that ever worked? or: buck and tommy try to keep their relationship a secret and fail adorably
read on ao3
tagging some of my mutuals in case you're interested @tizniz @neverevan @honestlydarkprincess @loserdiaz @canonbibuck @djdangerlove @babybibuck @shitouttabuck @buckleydiaz
please let me know if you'd like to be added or removed! yours truly, shaking like a leaf
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popjunkie42 · 23 hours
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sirens in the beat of your heart (read on AO3)
A humble offering for @nestaarcheronweek 2024! This is for @witch-and-her-witcher who is my fearless beta and takes all my writer whining in stride!
Nesta watched Feyre breathe, watched the tension in her with some queasy feeling. At how quickly tempers still flared between them.
So different from her Valkyrie sisters. They were a unit, complements to each other. Unlike the Archeron sisters, always discordant foils to one another. An ongoing play of hurts and scores and changing allegiances that tore at them all.
The specter that was between them: sleeping but still present, of jealousy. Of hunger. Of two skinny, vicious girls scrabbling for whatever was left on the table. Teaching themselves not to need love from the inhospitable desert that was their family.
Feyre took deep breaths until her muscles relaxed, just a little.
Or: Nesta and Feyre try out a bit of their new relationship post-ACOSF.
Behind the cut or Read on AO3.
It wasn’t the dull, constant thud of knives in wood that drove Nesta to the roof.
The truth was she couldn’t sleep, feeling a restlessness inside of her that had her lacing up her boots and leaving Cassian alone, sprawled out on their oversized bed.
The House of Wind was silent at night, except for the wind that sometimes howled outside, the cold stone air smelling crisp and mingling with the ash of dead fires from the evening. Nesta moved quietly, reluctant to break the stillness, heading towards the roof for a breath of fresh air.
At the first noise she had tensed, reaching for a knife that wasn’t at her side, but quickly relaxed when she saw the familiar lazy braid of her sister.
The night sky hung over the training ring like a dome, the jeweled stars of the Night Court sparkling overhead. It was a cold night, for spring, and a chill wind whipped across the stone, masking her footsteps.
Feyre was in leathers that looked a size too tight, thrown on hastily. Her youngest sister was never one to shy away from the casual or practical but tonight she looked…disheveled. Light hairs were whipping out of her braid, a halo of fine, frizzy hair framing her forehead and temples. Her boots were thrown on without being laced. She stumbled in them as she leaned forward for a throw.
There was also the fact that she was flinging knives, alone, at almost three in the morning. At someone else’s house.
Only one knife was lodged in the painted wood target, others littered around it. As Feyre released another blade, the wind kicked up and blew the dagger wide.
“Shit,” she muttered into the night.
“Your stance is crooked,” Nesta observed, walking up behind her before she could grab another blade.
Her sister gasped a little and whirled around, revealing a blotchy red face, blue eyes puffy with tears.
“Nesta,” she said, sounding guilty. Feyre quickly wiped at her eyes with the back of her hand. “Did I wake you up? I’m sorry. I just — I didn’t want to wake anyone at home and I thought it would be quieter —”
“You didn’t wake me. What’s wrong?” Nesta’s mind ran through the options — she wouldn’t be here if something happened to Nyx, and to be alone— “What did he do?” she asked, ready to draw blood.
Feyre laughed in exasperation, sniffling. “Rhys didn’t do anything. I’m fine.”
She turned away, and another knife flew through the air, silent and fast, missing the target by an inch and clattering on the ground amidst a dozen other failed attempts.
“You need to loosen your shoulders.”
“Thanks.” Her voice was clipped, her back stiff. Nesta wondered if she had been hoping for Cassian to be the one to find her. “Do you want me to leave? You can use the ring or whatever you came to do.”
Another knife thudded against the wood, hitting the target but failing to find purchase. Feyre avoided Nesta’s eyes. She swallowed, sorting through the maze of Feyre’s emotions.
If her little sister thought she could hide her avoidance, or if Nesta wouldn’t rise to uncomfortable confrontation, she was sorely mistaken.
“Feyre,” Nesta demanded. That unsettled feeling was only growing, as Feyre’s magic seemed to crackle and hum in front of her. Like her emotions were a storm about to spill out of her body. Nesta hadn’t woken up tonight prepared to deal with this emotional powderkeg.
The way Feyre’s eyes grew cold, like she retreated in on herself, and the stubborn jut of her chin made her look so young. This was the Feyre she was used to tearing apart over a worn dining table — raw with anger and a little self righteousness, fear and cruelty simmering just underneath.
Someone she hadn’t seen in a while, under Feyre the Cursebreaker, under the High Lady.
“I was just stressed, all right? I couldn’t sleep.”
“So you came here to lose all our knives?”
Feyre went stiff.
Her own wisps of wind cast out and gathered the knives, scraping over the stone and into a gently swirling cloud she brought back to the small table beside her. “Maybe I just wanted to throw things. Maybe I don’t care if they hit or not.”
Nesta didn’t know what to say. So she grabbed a knife and stepped up to her sister.
“We don’t have to talk if you don’t want to.” Maybe she could call Cassian. Her stomach sank a bit at the thought, the guilt. Maybe Cassian would be better at this, maybe he wouldn’t fumble and stomp his way through Feyre’s mess of emotions.
Thunk. The tip of Nesta’s knife buried into a bullseye.
Feyre huffed.
This time when her sister stood she anchored her back foot, setting the other in front, bouncing her wrist to feel the weight in her hand.
She pulled back her arm, stepped forward and they both watched as the knife went short, skidding loudly across the stone.
“Your stance is too tight. You need to loosen up your back a little, let your arm go.”
Feyre grunted, her lip curling up in a little angry sneer.
“Hey. Look at me.”
The eyes that met hers were like a beast in the forest.
There was her feral little sister. For a while now she had been the cool High Lady, the head of her house, the responsible sister. To see her old anger flare up again startled Nesta.
They were both far too powerful now to let it get the better of them.
“Take a deep breath. Just like me. And hold. Ready?” Nesta exaggerated the swell of her lungs, the lift of her shoulders. Cold night air filled her chest and she felt her feet ground into the stone, like she was an extension of the mountain.
Feyre fought her at first. She had to close her eyes to take in the deep breaths and let go.
“Let your thoughts come to you, whatever’s on your mind. Just let them fill you and then pass through. Keep breathing.”
Nesta watched Feyre breathe, watched the tension in her with some queasy feeling. At how quickly tempers still flared between them.
So different from her Valkyrie sisters. They were a unit, complements to each other. Unlike the Archeron sisters, always discordant foils to one another. An ongoing play of hurts and scores and changing allegiances that tore at them all.
The specter that was between them: sleeping but still present, of jealousy. Of hunger. Of two skinny, vicious girls scrabbling for whatever was left on the table. Teaching themselves not to need love from the inhospitable desert that was their family.
Feyre took deep breaths until her muscles relaxed, just a little.
“I’m sorry. I know you’re trying to help,” she finally said.
Nesta’s voice was as cold as ice. “I think maybe we spent so long fighting over scraps, and now it’s hard to remember —”
“That there’s enough?”
Nesta nodded.
It was hard to put into words. She was still getting used to the endless affection that poured from her mate, how she could ask for things and be given them without a thought, without a cost.
Even though a new peace lay between her and Feyre, the old scars were human, and wouldn’t heal so easily.
“Why don’t you tell me why you’re here?”
Feyre sighed again, her eyes focusing on the shining knives in front of her.
“Nyx finally went down and I was trying to fall asleep, but I remembered this fae a few weeks ago who came to petition — she and her family needed help with their farmland since their father died unexpectedly. And I told them we would send assistance — and then I just — forgot.” She swallowed thickly.
“I got up and was at my office trying to find the notes, and Rhys tried to send me back to bed, like he isn’t up working late into the night most days. Like the weight on me isn’t the same as his,” she played with a knife, pricking her fingertips on the tip of the blade idly.
“Then Nyx started crying, and it was like my whole body seized up. It was weird. It was like…my body didn’t belong to me.” Feyre shook her head, looking pale. “I just thought about that family, waiting every day for help, waking up every morning thinking ‘this will be the day.’ And I just…forgot.”
For a moment, something vicious slithered inside Nesta’s gut: a preening, satisfied feeling. At perfect Feyre, finally stumbling for once.
No. Nesta breathed through the thought, watching her sister’s tight face. Checked frantically that her shields were up.
That was an old way of thinking. When she thought they were competing. Let the thought pass through you. Feel it and let it go.
Nesta shifted on her feet. This was her terrain, her familiar training grounds. How would Feyre fit in this space?
She tried to shift the way she saw her sister. How would Cassian, or Azriel, size up a new recruit? What would Nesta feel towards her if she was a new priestess, walking nervously through that door?
How had she felt when she saw Gwyn pass that threshold for the first time, scared and seeking strength? Why was her sister any different?
“I might not be able to give any High Lady advice. But why don’t you pick up a sword? Let your body work it out.”
Feyre shook her head, her arms wrapping around her stomach. “I haven’t trained in months. And — I feel different. My body feels different. Even with everything healed I just feel…changed.”
“We can start at the beginning. I won’t go too hard on you.” Nesta cocked her head, unsure of what to make of the writhing mass of Feyre’s emotions.
“I don’t want this. I don’t want to —” Feyre paused, looking away, unable to meet Nesta’s eyes. “I don’t want some competition to see who’s the better fighter. You can be the warrior now. I don’t want it. Maybe I never did.”
Nesta swallowed. Thought about the emptiness that came when she first spilled blood –
She let the thought pass through. Focused back on Feyre, circling her slowly, watching the way she was tracked with her sister’s eyes, how her body turned instinctively to keep Nesta in her sights.
Not a fighter, she said.
This one needed an anchor. A goal. Something outside of her own panic to hold to, to pull herself up.
“Koschei is coming.”
Her words were casual. As if he were arriving tomorrow for tea.
Feyre’s face hardened. “Yes.”
“And are you ready to face him? Ready to protect your family?”
“Nesta…”
“Are you?”
Silver lined Feyre’s eyes. Nesta felt her heart crack. But she stayed still.
“No.” It was a whisper in the wind.
She watched as Feyre worked through it, the seizing fear, the desperation, the stubborn Archeron resolve to face it.
Mother knew there was nothing Nesta wanted more than her life here, small but full, with Cassian in her bed and next to her in the training ring, with her friends nearby and her work. Growing every day, luxuriating in love and happiness and sore muscles like it was a warm bath.
But Rhysand had shared Cassian’s memories with them all, of a frozen lake, of a chill wind that promised death and malice. Of even Cassian’s quaking fear.
“Then we’ll get there. I’ll help you. If you want. Or Cass can or — whoever you want.”
Nesta tried not to feel the worry of rejection. Every swing of the axe, or pull of the bow in lessons between them before had been fraught with sizzling tempers and cold viciousness.
She thought about Gwyn and Emerie, about Roslin and the other priestesses she worked with, encouraged, cheered for everyday. Thought about those emotions like a cloak and tried to see how it would fit around her sister.
“You would train me?” Feyre asked. Nesta tried not to bristle at her surprise, at whatever part of that offer caught her sister off guard.
“I could show you the Valkyrie techniques that will work with your Illyrian training. Sometimes these days, I’m the one teaching Cassian things.”
Feyre gave a watery grin. “I’m glad. Someone needs to check that Illyrian arrogance.”
“Maybe that’s why we’re mates. The Mother knew they all needed to be put in their place.”
A blade turned slowly in her sister’s hand. “You’re the Oristian.” A small, wistful smile came over her face. “I wish I could’ve been there when Devlon and the camp lords found out.”
Nesta’s smile was cold. “They don’t know what they’ve unleashed.”
“I’m proud of you,” Feyre said, her voice a choked whisper, Nesta's eyes going wide. “Not that — I know you don’t need —”
“Feyre.” At her tone, her sister stopped babbling. “That’s —” Nesta took a deep breath, letting all the discomfort and swaying emotions from her sister settle and pass through. Whatever anger or resentment she might have from before had washed away when she smelled the blood in that birthing room, when she had to beg for her baby sister’s life from the Mother herself. “Thank you. It was really hard, for a long time. But I’m happy. I’m happy here.”
Her sister’s chin wobbled and her face crumpled just before she buried it in her hands.
Breathe. In and out.
Nesta thought about her Valkyrie sisters. How sharing their heavy stories had made them feel lighter. How they looked into each other’s souls and didn’t turn away.
“Feyre. It’s ok.” Nesta rested her hand on Feyre’s arm, feeling her body shake with sobs under her palm.
At her touch, Feyre fell forward, burying her face in Nesta’s shoulder, covering her leathers with tears.
Nesta stiffened, unused to her sister’s touch.
Hating how she felt like her mother.
How would she want her mother to hold her? How would they all hold Nyx from this day forward —-- without reservation?
You can do this.
She could do it —-- accept love, and give it too. It would be hard but —-- she reached out her hand, pulling Feyre closer, rubbing her back gently, breathing through her discomfort and trying to bring down those walls.
When Feyre had tired herself, she stepped back, looking somewhat ridiculous with a swollen nose but with a new lightness in her eyes.
“I thought — I worried — you and Elain might never be happy here.” Nesta thought of her library and her friends there, of Cassian’s scent, and his stupidly handsome face. Happy.
The moment sat quietly between them, Feyre’s fears and the miles they’d traveled unraveling.
“I’m sorry I’m falling apart,” her brow furrowed in frustration. “I had Nyx and everything makes me cry now. Yesterday I stepped on a worm in Elain’s garden and Rhys raced home from the Governor’s council because he thought I was dying.”
Nesta’s lip curled. “I think Nyx has the power to turn all of us soft.”
“Do you ever look at him, and —” Feyre stopped short, like the words died in her mouth.
“What?”
“Sometimes I look at Nyx, and I think…I hate them. Mother. And…father. Sometimes.”
Nesta stayed still. Like the admonition would have her sister bolting at any wrong move. “I think I know what you mean.”
Feyre nodded. “I love him so much. And how could they have seen us so young and still do what they did? How could they have let themselves look away? It seems impossible. And then I worry: what if there’s some secret terrible thing that will happen that will make me feel the same way someday?”
“You will be a thousand times a better mother than our parents ever were to us. There’s no way you could ever be like them, Feyre. It’s impossible.”
“But —”
“Feyre. You’re a good mother already.” Feyre’s chin wobbled again. “And if you do slip up, I’m sure your sisters will let you know about it.”
Feyre took a deep breath, in and out through her nose. “You promise?”
“Try and stop us.”
A smile was on her sister’s face.
Nesta grabbed a throwing knife, the metal warming in her hand.
“Ok, do ten shoulder rolls, then we’re working on your stance.”
The yellow-pink fingers of dawn were pulling at the horizon by the time Feyre’s boots were tied, her muscles stretched. It wasn’t enough to warm them, yet, but the light shone on something brighter in Feyre’s face. Nesta reveled in the new feeling of being the cause of it.
She turned to her new recruit.
“Are you ready?”
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otrtbs · 2 hours
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Twitter people complaining about art heist baby and how u gave the women no personality whatsoever
there is not a single fanfiction in the marauders fandom that someone on twitter hasn't complained about. i know that this ask wasn't sent with good intentions whatsoever (along with the slew of other ones that you or others have been sending me since december) but i am going to say this. one time.
to paint ALL of the women in art heist baby as underdeveloped w no personality is extremely reductive. to say that all of the male characters in art heist baby were perfectly developed and fully fleshed-out characters is also reductive. i DO think that some of the characters are undeveloped in art heist. but not exclusively the women. to make that claim as some sort of moral argument/virtue signalling call for justification on why art heist is bad or why you are so much better than somebody else for not liking it is ridiculous and i would argue, unfounded. it is okay not to like things just because you don't like them.
furthermore, fanfiction is a place for BEGINNERS and AMATEURS to try out writing and to explore storytelling as hobby. nobody is going to be perfect at it their first go, and i certainly wasn't. sometimes it's not an "art heist baby is misogynist" issue and it's more of a "nat was trying to write 11 different characters all at the same time as a first time writer" issue. some of my characters were undeveloped, yes. but not just the women. but how is this, in any way, encouraging new people, or even repeat fanfic authors, to write stories if the baseline demand is that they be perfect at it? if the initial assumption is that the author has some moral or ethical failing for making common writing mistakes as a beginner? it hardly encourages anyone to try again or to try at all.
at the end of the day, people on twitter are going to complain and pick apart and be generally negative because that's how they get the most interaction and engagement. and i can talk until i'm blue in the face about how consumption in any form but ESPECIALLY fanfic consumption of media is not political praxis. nor is it a substitute for political praxis, but again, the target audience for that rant would not give a fuck. and finally. art heist baby is a jegulus fanfiction first and foremost. of course all the other characters are going to be fucking background side characters. they are not the stars of the show. enough of this.
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thevulturesquadron · 3 days
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Hello! If you don't mind answering, what are your thoughts on Rogue only mentioning Gambit during E.7 ? It felt weird after all these episodes and exploration of their relationship.
Ahoy there! 🛸
Well... I try not to put too much thought into it. Overall Bright Eyes felt like a moment of transition towards the finale (with an absolute kick-ass Rogue). I am happy they had an episode that showcased a part of what Rogue was going through after Genosha, because, as Amelia Vogh said - 'a survivor is the last thing I’d wanna be.’ So Rogue has a lot to process: the guilt and grief over losing Gambit, the uncertainty and anxiety around Magneto and well, the death of so many people around her. Remember what Magneto said? “We shall not live our days wondering if we could’ve saved more.” Rogue is doing just that - and it's hell.
About Rogue focusing just on Gambit - it makes sense. She held his body in her arms. That moment is with her probably every time she closes her eyes. The way I see it, there are two reasons why the focus has been only on expressing her feelings for Remy.
1. It might be just the way it is. Rogue and Gambit will always be 'the couple'. More so for TAS. They are one of the most well-known and popular Marvel couples so, after the drama was done, the writers needed to pull that ship back on course. It was always going to be like that and I'll be here for the ride. Not everything in media has to be written to match my preferences. Plus, the show has kept both of them in character and written them exceptionally well so far. Especially with Gambit, I am grateful for the care they put into portraying him, because in comics it's such a mess, depending on who's writing him. So I am expecting the focus to be on Rogue and Gambit from now on.
2. The other reasoning (from a media literacy perspective), and the one I prefer -  is that she's processing. It might turn out to be true or it might not - the show will tell us. But at this moment it does look like that. Grief, guilt, shock. First of all, in Magneto's case, there was no body. The rule is until the search is called off, if there is no body, there is no death confirmation. So Rogue is struggling to accept it. What she knows is that Remy is dead - that is a reality she cannot avoid and it consumes her. On the other hand she was refusing to face the possibility that Erik was also gone. Then Kurt made it real. In the privacy of that moment between them he said what she wasn't allowing herself to think or accept: that she lost more than one person she cared about. Secondly, also why it makes that moment with Kurt so much more heavy, is that no one else in the team knows of the emotional connection she has with Erik. Everyone who knew the depths (Gambit and, in parts, Madelyne) are dead. I don't think Rogue can voice her grief in front of the rest without an explanation. She can however channel it through Gambit’s loss. What is worse is that her feelings for Gambit are now intertwined with a lot of guilt, and she probably feels like she has failed him in particular. And it breaks my heart. I don’t think that’s fair towards her and I am not particularly a fan of that, but X-men has often times put drama ahead of character development. 
So is it the first one? Is it the second one? Who knows, maybe it’s a bit of column A, a bit of column B. But there is one thing that I would have liked the episode to show more of: I wanted to see Rogue processing what it meant for her to survive Genosha, to survive the genocide. I care more about that, about her humanity, her struggles and convictions, unrelated to the romantic aspects. Romance is not the ultimate form of love, and it doesn’t have to be the most intense display of love either.
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I have thought on Jadzia Dax from Star Trek Deep Space 9.
I'm currently rewatching the show (midway season 2), probably my 4th watch through over 8 years? My first time with slightly more youtube-essay-driven media analysis skills. I'm enjoying picking up on a lot more things than I used to but there's one thing that bugs me above all else.
Jadzia Dax doesn't really have a strongly defined character that shines through.
I've spent a while thinking about it. Obviously as a science officer its a little harder to tell stories the audience can understand and relate to compared to Odo's murder investigating or Sisko's exasperated diplomacy, but her stories have issues greater than that.
Both the stories centred on Dax, in season 1 where she stands trial for a crime supposedly committed by a former host, and in season 2 where someone tries to steal her symbiont, are about things that happen to Dax. Not the things Dax does. She is neither the perspective character through which we can see the world of Star Trek, with her own unique views and feelings, nor is she the one actively moving the plot forwards. She's either the victim who sacrifices herselr or quite literally refuses to do anything. Unfortunately this is quite a common failing of writing that's easy to fall into, writing about a character instead of the character making decisions that drive the plot. Its one that sci fi writing at the time seemed to do quite often with a lot (but not all) female characters. Ivanova and Talia from Babylon 5 fall victim to this too, especially in early seasons. In contrast, Major Kira, and even Ezri Dax later on have stronger characterisation and are the centre of their own stories.
I doubt this was intentional, its clear through the successes of writing other characters in the show that the writers, actors, and showrunners are trying to make everyone alive and meaningful, so what went wrong?
Looking at Jadzia Dax's character, I think what's clearly missing is a strong drive for her character. No real desires or vulnerabilities. No questions either. To provide constrasting examples:
Odo (who gets almost too much screen time in season 1) is clearly driven by a sense of justice no matter whatever starfleet rules say. He's in constant conflict with Quark, ever vigilant, somewhat isolated from other people. No one ever asks "Why does Odo do what he does?" His motivations are clear, and they even tie it up with an extra motive that's very plot relevant: the mystery of where he comes from. All things a single episode writer can use and explore.
Major Kira has her own conflict with starfleet, her desire to do right by her own people, to get justice for Bajor, and always stand up for the underdog which creates really good stories as she struggles with her own values and constantly has to make choices that affect the story.
Bashir wants acclaim, accomplishment, romance, and also for everyone to like him. Quark wants profit without putting himself at risk. O'Brien wants to just do his job and go home to his family. Sisko wants to hold everything together with the responsibility of peace and reason on his shoulders while singlehandedly raising his son. Jake wants community, friends, and freedom in his life. Funnily enough Ezri Dax has far better drive. Trying to figure out what she wants in life, handling this enormous change and overwhelming personality, and her own lack of confidence that she's useful to anyone sometimes. She grows and changes more over the course of a season than we ever see in early seasons Jadzia.
What does Jadzia Dax want?
I think in attempting to make a wise 300 year old person who's seen everything, they accidentally wrote themselves into a corner. Jadzia has no strong motivations to do much at all. She does fine as a secondary character, and I love how her friendship with Sisko plays out on screen, but beyond being surprisingly enlightened about a lot of things as the result of age and experience there's no drive there.
And so no drive or motivation, and no stories told from her perspective. We have ourselves a problem.
I thought for a while if I could find a solution to the issue rather than just offer criticism. I originally tried writing an outline for an episode. Jadzia would be a fantastic protagonist for any wacky sci fi short story concept that required a scientist to explore, such as time travel paradoxes, simulations, weird space anomolies that do "plot relevant thing" that she would be perfectly posed to actually explore instead of "technobabble and tap console" until the problem is solved.
Then I decided that all we really needed to have a framework any writer could use is to establish a strong character motivation for her. Here's my shot at it.
Jadzia Dax, in harmony with seven lifetimes of experience, is an extremely competent twenty seven year old woman. She can almost certainly do the job of anyone on the station better than they can. Fix a computer? Better than O'Brien can. First aid? She's there and solved the issue before Julian can get there. Solve a murder? A past host was an invesigator of course she can to Odo's chagrin. She has better ideas of what Sisko can do to bring the Bajorans towards the federation. Hell she's the best representative of federation values on that station and could constantly be presenting that of the story.
Dax struggles to hold herself back when she sees her friends failing at what she can solve the problem for them. She tries not to, that's what her training tells her to do. But out here on the edge of Federation space where there's constantly lives on the line? She finds herself interfering in other people's work more and more often. She just doesn't want it do be done wrong. She pushes herself hard to do too many jobs. She doesn't sleep or eat enough while telling everyone else to take care of themselves better. After a while people start relying on her. It turns from her helping to her having those responsibilities. Pilot. Diplomat. Linguist. Researcher. Mechanic. Leader. So much emotional support for her friends because everything they're suffering she's been through herself. It becomes too much for her and you could make the core of one story her just crashing. Learning how to balance her experience with giving room to other to shine through and solve their own problems, which they're very capable of doing. There's plenty more detail to elaborate on but I think this gives a core drive and conflict that lasts a character a couple of seasons at least to explore and grow through.
I happily invite thoughts as to whether my original observations are astute, or wether you think there aren't any problems with how Jadzia's passivity plays out in the show. If you think there are problems, do you think my perscribed solution helps fix them? How would you go about it?
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Fanfic Friday: fic recs!
Hiii everyone, happy Friday! I forgot that I made a post like this ages ago for fanfic Friday, but I’ve read a bunch since then so here are some recommendations of Good Omens fics I’ve enjoyed recently:
“Heaven isn't built to house a love like you and I” by ItsScottiesStark
Rating: T
Length: 37,291 (8 chapters)
Summary: They did it. They stopped Armageddon. They survived.
This was it, the first time they were actually free to finally figure out what their side entailed.
Aziraphale is a being of love. Always has been. And now, all the love he has for Crowley is free to flow from the edge of his fingertips to the demon's, in a gesture that could only mean one thing; I'm with you. I'm here.
As much as his hands itch to reach out for the love of his existence, his words seem to fail him, time and time again. He knows Crowley deserves more than gentle hand holding and forehead kisses in the dark. He aches to scream his love from the top of his lungs, for the whole world to hear. And the demon knows it.
And he waits. Because he'll wait forever for Aziraphale. Because he knows they are meant to be one.
This one is great at immediately grabbing your attention. It starts on the bus during that scene towards the end of season 1 where Aziraphale holds Crowley’s hand, which very smoothly leads in to this theme of physical contact and how although they’re both unfamiliar with it, it’s secretly something they both long for from the other. Without spoiling too much, they sort of subtly lean into this desire for physical affection in a way that’s incredibly sweet yet almost tragic with how hesitant they are at the start of it. You can tell that they want so desperately to let the other know how much they care, but they still don’t know if the other is on the same page (so “he waits. Because he’ll wait forever for Aziraphale.”). This writer is really great at conveying how much they really love each other, highly recommend!
“Twin Suns” by IneffableDoll
Rating: T
Length: 7,291 words (3 chapters)
Summary: “I thought you were gone,” Crowley mumbled, and it was almost cliché, it was almost the kind of sentimental rubbish he would’ve moaned at had he heard it from someone else. But they were the rawest words he could manage. He’d thought Aziraphale was gone. That was all, and it said everything.
***
Directly following their celebratory meal at the Ritz, Aziraphale and Crowley clash with the feelings that struggle to settle after everything they’ve been through. And, in so doing, learn to rely on and communicate with each other in new ways.
Similar in concept to the previous one I mentioned, this fic takes place after the events of season 1. They get into some real honest conversations (something I love reading in fics because the characters in canon are not at that point yet and I am HUNGRY for some emotional honesty from them), and something I really love about this one is how patient they are with each other. In chapter one Crowley says that he’s not ready for this conversation, and Aziraphale respects that. Without spoiling too much more, they’re both super careful with the other’s boundaries as they kind of start to think and talk more about the love they have for each other that they’ve never really gotten the chance to explore until now. I absolutely love how they take things nice and slow, attentive to how the other is feeling about all of this. This kind of love is a new concept for the both of them, but they wouldn’t want it with anyone else, and so they try. And I think that’s beautiful.
“Icebergs and Angels” by The_Bentley
Rating: T/M (two versions)
Length: 23,498/24,929 words (8 chapters each)
Summary: It's 1912 and Aziraphale, not wanting to be lonely during his mission aboard Titanic, invites Crowley along for a cruise. But he boards the ship before knowing exactly what his mission is. When he learns Heaven wants to teach humanity a lesson for the claim even God couldn't sink it, it could damage his relationship with Crowley, who has his own views on Heaven's need to punish innocents. Can he repair things with Crowley and can they work together to save as many lives as possible?
The concept of this one is so cool, and very much something I could see actually happening in the show as another historical flashback/mini-sode. Aziraphale is given a mission from Heaven that entails many humans losing their lives, he’s obviously not on-board with that, and Crowley is there to help him save as many human lives as possible because, as much as he’d hate to admit it, he really is a nice demon who very much disapproves of Heaven’s disregard for human life. Throughout this one you get to see how the two of them interact with the humans, all while Aziraphale is battling this inner conflict of wanting to just go along with Heaven’s orders without questioning it while simultaneously knowing that it’s wrong. The narration is great, beautifully written and I really felt like the writer understands these characters on a very deep level. There are two different versions of this one, both of which are fantastic. I personally felt that the more platonic/aroace approach to Aziraphale and Crowley’s relationship in the context of this particular story was more fitting, but if you’d like something a little spicier I thought that the Mature rated one was just as good! (I’m linking the non-spicy version here, but the link to the spicy one is in the summary!)
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mitskijamie · 2 days
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the continual tweets during last season about how the writers “let Brett and Juno’s magical once in a lifetime chemistry & the healthiest onscreen relationship go to waste” soured me on the ship so badly. I really try not to hate things that get overhyped but sometimes it’s impossible not to
Part of my irritation with hardcore Roy/Keeleys is that I personally felt like the relationship was messy and entertaining, and I LIKED that about them (because I watch TV to be entertained, not to see relationships that perfectly reflect what I think a real relationship should be like!), but a large portion of the fanbase seems to think that getting in fights without breaking up means that you are the healthiest couple in the entire world and the only way your relationship could progress is marriage and babies
I don't think that Roy and Keeley being a perfect couple or even being endgame was ever really the intention of the writers (given that their parking lot meet-cute in s1 was set to a voiceover of Ted actively divorcing his wife and talking about how he met her in a parking lot, and that their first kiss song was "strangers to friends, friends into lovers, then strangers again"), and I feel like people would be a lot less confused and angry about their ending if they looked at the relationship for what it was and stopped insisting that it was perfect and rk not being endgame was a moral failing
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chobani-flip · 2 days
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the disconnect between the storytelling of the show and of the fandom
lately, I've been thinking about storytelling and storytellers in the context of 911.
like, there's two sides to this storytelling business, right?
there's the small group writers and showcreators who have an idea for the characters and plots and have to come up with a way to share those ideas within the constraints of a network television series
and then there's us, a massive international community with a wide-range of life experiences, who watch their show and then go on to tell our own story about it.
and i wonder if we're always watching the story they're telling.
im not even necessarily talking about the buddie goggles right now.
what got me thinking about this was ana flores.
and the one scene the fandom likes to pretend sealed her fate (when in actuality, let's be quite candid, it was the fact that she was a beautiful woman who dared to date eddie instead of allowing him to remain a viable option for canonical/fanonical offscreen cannoodling with buck)
"there's a lot to be said for getting back on the horse, but there's also some value in learning that you don't like horses." eddie: "i'm sorry?" "sometimes, our limitations tell us when to stop. but sometimes, they can show us where to look next." (romantic, feelingsy song starts playing) "today, he falls off the skateboard. but tomorrow, he writes the great american novel."
see, the problem here is that this is CLEARLY meant to be viewed as wise and deep advice. as a moment of connection between ana and eddie... the way the scene is cut, the music that plays in the background, the intense eye-contact between the two characters, the way eddie reacts to her words... we're meant to enjoy the simmering tension and potential between them...
but... it's not great and deep advice, not really. it's been pointed out that it comes off as ableist. and ana is supposed to be a teacher at this excellent inclusive institution; she is meant to have experience with children of different abilities feeling frustrated and wanting to do the same things other children are doing... someone on here pointed out that if they were the teacher, they would seek to understand what need christopher was trying to fullfil by getting on the skateboard and help him achieve it by other means
but what ana comes up with is this awkward horse metaphor that doesn't really make sense for the situation, and a condescending: "awwww, well, im sure he's the next hemingway"
BUT SEE, THAT'S NOT THE STORY THE SHOW IS TELLING US. the show is ostensibly framing this scene as romantic and great and deep. and that is NOT ana's fault. the character of ana didn't travel to our reality, didn't block the scene, didn't cut it and add the soundtrack. that's on the showcreators.
but somehow, it's really difficult for us to see it that way when it comes to ana.
in a way that it's not when it comes to Hen, poor little Mara and the Doberman.
because we know Hen and Karen, and we like them.
so we awkwardly shuffle around, side-eyeing each other, quietly nudging each other and going: "bit of a fail that, huh? kinda a weird thing to do on the part of the show, huh? comparing a little Black girl to a dog...why did they do that???"
or there was an excellent post floating around about whether Buck and Eddie realize they can say no to sex, that their consent matters.
"what if i come home and she wants to haaaaaave..." "well, you'll get through it somehow," says buck with an amused grin on his face.
see, the problem isn't necessarily whether the characters know that their consent matters, but whether the showcreators do. because this is clearly meant to be viewed as a joke.
eddie is a macho guy, who tends to keep his cool in difficult situations, so it's funny when you see him freaking out over the fact that his girlfriend wants to have sex with him and he doesn't want to have sex with her because her former chosen-profession taps into his well of Messy Catholic Feelings.
isn't it? isn't that just fucking hilarious?
and the answer to that is: no. it's not funny to any part of the audience who's ever felt pressured (by a partner, by society, by their own expectations) to want or to have sex.
but does the show realize that?
i'm sorry but i don't think so. this is the show that framed dr.wells sexually assaulting buck during a therapy session as a joke to casually bring up and needle him over later, that felt the need to reassure us that chimney and maddie can and do have wild, passionate monkey sex (you remember, albert teasing chim, then the hotel with the revolving room, etc), that had karen ask hen what the point of a relationship was if the couple weren't having sex...
now, i genuinely don't think the showcreators mean to be hurtful, or harmful. i don't think they realise how all these things come off. because they're a fairly small group of people from Los Angeles, America, and are working within the constraints of a network television show
(and the point of the Eddie and Buck scene was Buck coming out to Eddie, so maybe they felt Buck saying: "you know, you can tell her you don't want to have sex, right? that's allowed." would fraction the focus of it? idk)
but what happens is that there's this disconnect between the story they're telling us and the story we continue to tell among ourselves.
when it comes to the characters we like, we tend to ignore the unpleasant meanings and messages in relation to the character, or we retcon it in fanfic, or we Fix-it with some heart-to-hearts and apologies.
(for example, i haven't seen many fics that show athena being a Cop as not-a-great-thing. but are we really ok with her saying "i wasn't on their side, but i understood their side." when her son expresses some reasonable dissatisfaction with her reaction to a cop pointing a gun at him and michael? or are we just ignoring it because we love angela basset?)
when it comes to characters we are predisposed to dislike, this disconnect makes us dislike them even more. which leads to the writing of bashing fics, and in some cases harassing the performers online jfc do not do that people that's never ok
(of course, some characters are hated justifiedly imao, like the buckley parents and chimney's father...)
maybe this is the frustration that makes for such a prolific and active fandom?
I don't know.
but I think it's something to keep in mind when watching the show. because that disconnect is always going to be there and I know that for my own personal mental health, it's easier and nicer to believe that a group of RL people might be just a bit ignorant at times, than that my favourite characters are massive assholes unpredictably and randomly
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flower-boi16 · 3 days
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It baffles me the lengths the fandom/writers will go to just to make stolitz problems look like it's everyone's fault except Stolas. Stella, who has a right to be angry? Lobotomize her, remove her personality. Blitzø calling him out for using him and forcing him into the arrangement? "Noooo, it's a misunderstanding. he loved him all along" (barf). Octavia? God, it's so gross how they treat her.
I swear I'm living in bizzaro world because how can there be so many people defending this man, to the point where a fan song's lyrics were changed by the creator to try (and fail) to make this character sympathetic
The show & the fandom have this strange insistence on completely ignoring and absolving Stolas' mistakes and treating him as an UwU soft boy who did "nothing wrong". They made Stella abusive solely so they could use her as a scapegoat and that's pretty much it.
It's why the show demonizes the characters who Stolas hurt, it can't admit that Stolas is a bad or flawed person because it wants to keep him sympathetic. Really the show should've never tried to make Stolas sympathetic in the first place and actually make him a flawed character that eventually grows as a person.
But we can't have interesting writing in Viv's shows, can we?
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backgroundagent3 · 3 days
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for the character ask, daisy johnson!
Thank you so much for the ask! 💜 I love any excuse to talk about Daisy Johnson.
First impression: I'm trying to squeeze my brain here, but all I remember was trying not to like her at first because I knew se was a double agent for the Rising Tide. It goes without saying I failed miserably about three episodes in.
Impression now: She is my favourite character of all time.
Favorite moment: I really can't choose, but one that comes to mind was the final fight of season 5. I think it's a very underrated fight scene, because it's the end of the world, her dad is dying, she has been recently betrayed and tortured by her friend, and she still goes into battle BY HERSELF against Talbot, and if that wasn't bad enough, when she's about to die a horrible death she realises that the only way she can save the world is if she takes the serum and basically condemns the person she loves most to his death. It's so heartbreaking and poetic, but very cool to watch, and I just love so much it, idk.
Idea for a story: This is angsty but I would love to read something where the events of 5.14 are properly dealt with. May watches the security cameras and goes ballistic on Fitz, and Daisy gets time to grieve and heal. They get Coulson back and he's horrified, and Jemma is so conflicted but she's there for her best friend.
Unpopular opinion: Since apparently I can't stop thinking about season 5, here's some more. I think she actually did a good job of leading the team in season 5b. Especially if you consider that she's been recently tortured, her family doesn't seem to care, she has no experience, and hasn't gotten a good nights sleep in about 5 years. She might be tough, but hello? IT'S THE END OF THE WORLD?? You have to be at least a little bossy if you wanna make it through that. Also if you're gonna be a baby and call her a hard ass maybe you should have thought twice before joining SHIELD.
Favorite relationship: If it's romantic, then Sousa. I love them so so much, they're literally perfect and despite my obvious outrage at season 5, I will forever love the AoS writers for somehow pulling that off. As for platonic relationships, I'd say May. She's the perfect mother figure for her, and I love the parallels between them. I think Daisy has the best relationships in general, but this one is my favourite. Honourable mentions go to Coulson for being the most unhinged dad ever, and to Jemma for being the sweetest friend in the earlier seasons.
Favorite headcanon: before she goes off to space at the end of season 7, she rebuilds Afterlife with the help of Sousa and Kora. I've said this before, but I think they are actually the perfect team to do this. Kora has lived in Afterlife her whole life, she's seen Jiaying help people go through Terrigenesis, and she's been though it herself in a much healthier and safer environment than Daisy. Sousa is reasonable and calm, which are good qualities to have when you're helping someone who's terrified and potentially dangerous. He has experience leading people, which I think would make him a good mentor for the Inhumans. So Kora has the experience, Sousa has the qualities, and in my opinion, Daisy has a nice combination of the two. She has a different and much more horrifying experience of Terrigenesis that people who accidentally go though it can relate to, and she has spent years exploring and controlling her powers, so she knows what the deal is. And she's also a good leader, so where Sousa can help the Inhumans pre-Terrigenesis, she can train them after if that's what they want. Because that's another thing, SHIELD may be funding Afterlife, but they've learnt their lesson and they're not sticking their noses where they shouldn't. They accept new recruits and help train them, but if that's not what the Inhumans want, then SHIELD helps them get settled back into their normal lives. Anyways this got long but it's one of my favourite headcanons, so there you go.
Thank you so much for the ask! Sorry for rambling, but I have a lot to say about Daisy. 🌼💛
Character Asks.
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Writers Guild Presents - Friday I'm In Love: Chapter One
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Written by blackjeans93 on our subreddit!
CW: Very temporary character death.
Summary:
Due to unwelcome news given to him by Aziraphale, Crowley accidentally breaks time. How can he fix it? And more to the point - does he want to?
Excerpt:
“Oops,” he whispered, weakly. He pulled his sunglasses off and his eyes adjusted to the dark; slit pupils widening, his night vision stronger than that of humans. His thoughts became clearer and the electricity in the atmosphere returned to a bearable level now it had had its way with Crowley’s corporation.
“That was a bit more than oops. You’ve immobilised the train,” Aziraphale chided in a whisper. Crowley felt like that was a bit rich of the angel, standing there with his lips still glistening from kisses. He supposed it wasn’t something they were going to talk about.
“We should probably get out of here before it gets tedious, Angel,” Crowley finally slurred, trying and failing to don his familiar persona of uncaring coolness. He snapped his fingers to open the sliding doors nearest to them. The doors didn’t move.
“Little help?” Crowley asked, weakly. “Demonic misdeeds took it out of me.”
Continue reading on AO3
Thank you to u/PurpleMoonPagan and u/Yes-its-unholy for the beta ❤️
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caparrucia · 4 hours
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"You need to stop writing self-insert nonsense if you want to be published!"
The thing about self-insert stories that writers often fail at doing, when trying to bring their stories to a wider audience is unfolding the fantasy.
In a self-insert story, yes, all the characters think the self-insert is fun and witty and nice and interesting, because it's a self-insert story. It's inherently wish-fulfillment. All you need to do is to unfold the fantasy. Take more space, not less. Show me WHY your self-insert is seen that way. Give them opportunities to be witty and fun and nice and interesting. Let them take up more space, not less!
When you don't, the only people who will be interested in your story are people who have similar fantasies and wish-fulfillment to yours.
When you unfold it and showcase it, you can sell that fantasy to people who would otherwise be uninterested.
All that to say, all fiction is inherently self-insert-y in some way, and yelling at people who are upfront about what they like to write to make yourself feel better or seem more impressive than you are is profoundly sad.
Write whatever the fuck you want to write, someone out there will be into it.
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darkeunology · 6 hours
Text
♡ Love is the Warmest Colour ♡
Word Count: 3228 (I'm amazed it's this long)
Pairing: Derek Morgan x Reader
Warnings: Mentions of gunshot injuries, normal Criminal Minds violence, kidnapping, torture mentions (No explicit details)
Summary: In a world where soulmates feel each other's pain, you and Derek seem to be oblivious to each other's pains.
Not proof read. Not sure how I feel about this one tbh.
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Soulmate: Noun: A person ideally suited to another as a close friend or romantic partner. 
Everyone in the world had someone who was destined to be their soulmate. It was a tale told to every child as a bedtime story, the exact way soulmates were known to each other. Shared pain - all soulmates in the world feel each other’s pain, Every scratch, punch or bump, soulmates feel it all but are never left with the physical marks from the injuries. 
Maybe not so surprisingly, a lot of people never actually found their soulmates, getting injured close enough to your soulmate so that both of you would realise anything was quite rare a feat, most people gave up trying to find their soulmate by their 20s, not wanting to waste their life trying to find the person suited best for them. Including you, once you’d hit 25, you’d given up - you thought it would be great if you did ever find them, but you weren’t holding out hope for it anymore, you’d now just ignore any of the pains you’d ever felt from your soulmate, which annoyingly for you, was a very common occurrence. 
—---------
As a child, a common question that was asked during class was ‘what do you want to be when you grow up?’ Everyone else in the class would always have an answer to this, Vet, Astronaut, Writer, Fireman, to name a few, but you never once had an answer, never a clear one anyway, you had no idea what you actually wanted to do in life, and even once you’d finished high school, you chose to not go to college, instead choosing to unfortunately bounce between jobs, starting out at retail, before moving to waitressing until eventually moving to the job you were in now, a barista at your local coffee shop. 
It wasn’t quite the life you or your parents had ever imagined for you, but you were happy enough; sure, you were living paycheck to paycheck, and you weren’t really able to treat yourself as much as you’d wished to, but it worked for you, and now, being in your 20s, you weren’t really sure how you could do anything else with your life. 
It wasn’t until the day you very nearly died when you decided you wanted to do something different. 
You’d just finished a lunchtime shift at the coffee shop, planning to go to the store quickly before you went back to your apartment, a good friend of yours coming round to have a girls night together after a long week at work. You never managed to make it home that night. Whilst walking to the store, a van stopped next to you, a young man poking his head out the window, asking you how to get to the highway from where he was. After quickly telling him where to drive, you turned your back to the van, about to start walking again when you felt yourself be grabbed from behind, a large hand covering your mouth to stop a scream from escaping - no matter how hard you tried to fight off the hands on you, nothing would loosen his grip as he pulled you into the back of the van, landing a quick, hard punch to your head, knocking you out immediately. 
When you finally woke up, you were tied up on what felt like a dentist’s chair. All your clothes except for your underwear missing from your body. A shiver ran through your body from the chill in the room you were in, the chill getting worse when the men who kidnapped you walked into the room you were in, menacing smirks lining their faces. 
Once your friend hadn’t been able to get in contact with you after you’d failed to get back to your apartment after work, they called the police, knowing that you would never be late coming home without letting her know beforehand, she knew deep down something had happened to you, especially with the news recently of young women being kidnapped and murdered in the are you lived in. She’d seen on the news that the FBI had already been called in after the last murder after seeing the press conference on the news the other night, she told them everything they needed to know and hoped that they’d be able to find you in time. 
Unsure of just how much time it had been since you’d been kidnapped, all you could focus on was the pain running through your body from the hours of torture you’d had to endure. It felt like you’d been here for days when in reality it had only been a few hours. The only thing that had kept you going the whole time was the hope that your friend called someone when you never showed up to meet her at your apartment. That hope finally coming true when a tall, dark skinned man jogged into the room, FBI vest on his body and a gun held firmly in his hands, “I’ve got the victim.” he spoke into his comms before placing his gun back into his holster, walking up to you, a gentle smile on his face, “Hey, sweetheart. I’m agent Derek Morgan with the FBI. You’re safe now alright. Medics are on their way down.” he spoke gently, his hands moving to carefully untie you from the chair. 
Derek stuck by your side every moment until they put you in the back of the ambulance, keeping you comfortable as everything buzzed around you, only leaving you when the ambulance left for the hospital.
He was the one good thing you tried to focus on whenever you had nightmares about the kidnapping. It took months of therapy, months of being scared to leave your house alone again before you were finally ready and able to do something about your life. You guess it’s because of what you went through, but you decided that you wanted to do what was done for you, you wanted to help people in the worst moments of their lives; so you went back to school, studying criminal profiling and psychology, graduating 3 years later before luckily managing to get a position in the BAU, the same unit who saved you nearly 4 years previously.  
—--------
Derek remembered when he was told about soulmates by his parents, his sisters told him afterwards that they all had the same talk when they were the same age. He was told one night as he was being put to bed, his parents telling him that there was one special person in the world who was a perfect fit for him, a person who he might never find but someone that would never be better for him. He was told that was how his parents met each other, his dad being hurt during a police job with his mother luckily being close enough to him that they knew almost in that moment they were meant for each other. He was told that any physical pains he would ever have would be felt by his soulmate and any pains his soulmate had would have, he would feel himself. 
As Derek grew older, he never really put much thought into soulmates, he knew how unlikely it actually was that he’d ever meet his true soulmate, with just how big America was, and the fact they might not even be American. He just figured that if he was going to find his soulmate, it would happen naturally - so, like most people, he dated anyone he wanted to, not caring, nor worrying if they weren’t his soulmate. 
At night sometimes, as much as he would never tell people, he would often imagine what life might be like with his soulmate, or just exactly how he would meet them. He mildly envied the people who had actually managed to find their soulmate, wondering how they got so lucky with how large the world is. 
Sometimes Derek would think he didn’t even have a soulmate, he often wouldn’t feel any random pains, only sometimes getting a pain in his foot, almost like his soulmate had just stubbed their toe somewhere - or sometimes a harsh pain in his arm, maybe a needle injection or someone hitting their shoulder too hard as they walked past them. 
So, even as Derek was for some reason in a lot more pain than he normally was, he didn’t really think too much of it. He was used to pain from his job so it didn’t really feel like much to him, he thought you were just going through a bad day. 
He never connected the pieces, even after his pain stopped once you’d been rescued. 
—-------
Nervous was an understatement as you stood in the elevator going up to the BAU office, you hid it behind a gentle smile as the doors opened, asking the first person you saw how to find Aaron Hotchner’s office. 
After getting your directions, you headed through the glass doors into the main office, walking up to Hotchner’s office to the curious looks of the other members of the team. You knocked on the door, walking in once you’d heard a ‘come in’ from the other side of the door. 
“Hi. Aaron Hotchner?” you asked, a smile on your face as you held your box full of your things in your hands, 
The man nodded behind his desk, standing and walking round the other side to be able to shake your hand, something you were just able to do with the box you were balancing. “Hi, yes. You must be Y/N,” he spoke, waiting for your nod of acknowledgement before he continued, “It’s a pleasure to meet you. Everyone else has just gone into the meeting room. I’ll show you your desk then we’ll go up to meet everyone.” he explained, a small smile on his face the whole time, before he led you out of his office, quickly showing you your desk so you could place the box down before leading you up to the meeting room, walking in before you, “Everyone, meet our new agent, this is Y/N L/N.” he spoke to the team, 
It took a moment for everyone to introduce themselves, Derek was the last to speak, “You seem familiar,” he spoke after he’d said his name. Everyone else took that to mean something different, since they all knew what Derek was like most of the time, so they were surprised when they heard Spencer speak, “Yeah, he’s right.” Causing the rest of the team to try and remember why two of their team knew your face. 
Sighing lightly, you glanced at Aaron, who already knew of your past, he nodded gently, signalling that you can tell them if you wanted to, “I must just have a familiar face.” you spoke, shrugging your shoulders. 
Thankfully for you, the team dropped it. Derek still giving you looks every so often, trying to figure out where he knew you from. 
—----
It had been a few weeks of working in the BAU, you’d managed to fit into the team really well. Already going on many girls nights with JJ, Emily and Garcia. You got on with the males in your team as well, but nowhere near as well as the girls. Garcia being the one you told everything to, including the day you were kidnapped and rescued by the BAU, and opening up to her about the small feelings you had for a certain Derek Morgan.
You’d also had a lot more pains from your soulmate in the past few weeks, nothing too bad, just some hard hits every so often, one being a nasty hit on your ribs one day at the end of a case, you standing with Emily and practically doubling over in the sudden pain that shot through your abdomen, “You good?” Emily asked, concern laced through her voice, 
“Yeah.” you gasped out, “I don’t know what happened, that just really hurt for a moment.”
“Must be your soulmate.” Emily spoke, you nodded in response, 
“Yeah, it must be.”
When you and Emily found out that Derek had been shot in his abdomen, luckily only causing a harsh bruise due to his vest, Emily was the only one who connected the dots about the pain you felt that day, deciding not to tell anyone else about her thoughts. 
—-----
“You alright sugar?” Garcia spoke when she saw Derek, noticing the obvious look of discomfort on his face, 
“Yeah, baby girl. Just got an awful headache, I took painkillers ages ago and it just hasn’t done anything.” he spoke, rubbing his temples, he knew from the fact that painkillers hadn’t worked that it would be a soulmate pain, 
“Soulmate maybe?” Garcia spoke, 
“Yeah, that’s what I was thinking.” He spoke, smiling at Garcia before getting back to work. 
It wasn’t until he sat down at his desk and saw you taking some painkillers when something clicked, “You good Y/N?” Derek asked, grabbing your attention and the attention of Emily who was sitting nearby at her desk. 
“Really bad headache. Painkillers are only helping a small amount.” you sighed. 
Emily was only looking towards Derek, a knowing look on her face, watching as Derek looked towards her, realisation slowly showing on his face, “Let me know if I can do anything to help.” he spoke, before turning back around, his only thought being that his soulmate was potentially his colleague. 
—----------
Oftentimes when you’d come into work, you’d go into Garcia’s bat cave, getting her some coffee and having a little chat before the work began.
A knock on the door interrupted you and Garcia this morning, “We’re meeting now. We have a new case.” JJ spoke as she poked her head in, her face looking grim. Both of you stood, grabbing your coffee mugs and heading over to the meeting room, being the last two to come in,
“We’re going to Florida.” JJ spoke, turning on the TV on the wall, “There’s been a series of murders, all women in their late 20s, all being found dumped in remote areas.” 
“Any sexual assault?” Derek asked.
“All of them had signs of sexual assault, yes.” JJ answered. “Newest victim is Stephanie Leigh, she was kidnapped yesterday evening after a night out at a local club.”
“All of these women were killed two days after they were kidnapped, meaning we have under 48 hours to find her alive.” Hotch spoke, his face serious like always, “Wheels up in 20.” he finished, getting up from his seat first as everyone else followed. 
—--------
You and Derek were in the car driving to the club where the recent victim was taken from, 
“I think I figured out where I remember you from.” Derek spoke, filling the silence that had surrounded you both for a while, 
“Oh yeah.” you spoke, knowing that Derek probably had, and dreading having to tell him he was right. 
“I think around 4 years ago, maybe more, we were called out to a local kidnapping case, the local cops were investigating someone kidnapping local young females and murdering them after torturing them for a few days, normally 2, but he’d accelerated his timeline on the last victim. We’d found the last body then a few hours later we were told of someone else being kidnapped - it was you.” He turned to look at you for a moment before putting his eyes back on the road,
“You were the one that found me first.” you spoke. Silence filled the car again for a moment, “I never told any of you purely because I just wanted to try and forget about it. I figured some of you might recognise me, but I hoped that you’d rescued so many people that you wouldn't necessarily remember one person you’d helped. Clearly though, you knew, and I think so does Spencer.” you looked towards Derek, “I’ll tell everyone else eventually” 
“I’m sorry for bringing it up,” he spoke quietly, 
“Don’t be.” You shook your head, “I needed to thank you anyway. All of you really. But you stayed by my side from the moment you found me until the ambulance left,” you paused, looking back at Derek, “I don’t think you realise how much I appreciated that.” you finished quietly, a sad tone in your voice. 
Derek turned and nodded gently at you, not saying anything else until you guys arrived at the club, continuing on with the case you were working. 
—--------
“I think we found our guy.” Hotch spoke after Garcia had finished her round of research she was given, the team headed out, finding the warehouse where the unsub should be holding the missing girl, rushing to get there before he murdered her just like the others. 
Spencer and you went round the back together along with some swat agents and other cops, checking each room until you saw the unsub running from you both, alerting the agents who were left outside, Derek being one of them. 
“We found the victim, she’s alive.” Emily spoke into the comms, just before Hotch spoke, 
“Offender running on foot northwest, me and Derek are in pursuit.” Spencer, you, Emily and Rossi all ran out of the warehouse, knowing the victim was safe with the rest of the police and the medics, hopping in one of the SUVs and going out to find Hotch and Derek. 
All in one moment, the most intense pain you’d felt before rang through your shoulder and your leg, causing you to yelp out in pain, making everyone else in the car jump, “Y/N!” Spence exclaimed, being the one sitting next to you in the back, “You okay?” he asked, at the same time Hotch spoke on the radio, 
“Shots fired, Agent down. I need medics to my location.” he practically shouted, the message finishing just as the SUV turned the corner to the alley they were in, Derek on the floor with Hotch knelt next to him. 
Confusion rung through you, the realisation never actually hitting you due to the pain in your body distracting you too much to think straight, “I can’t believe you’re a profiler and you haven’t figured it out yet.” Emily chuckled lightly, looking towards you with disbelief. 
“What?” you asked dumbly, 
“Get out the car and go to your damn soulmate.” she spoke again. You didn’t even think twice once the realisation hit you in the face, you jumped out the car, kneeling on the other side of Derek, one hand cupping his face, 
“Hey sweetheart.” he spoke, a small smile on his face even through the pain of the wounds. 
“Hey soulmate.” you smiled, “That hurt quite a lot you know?” finishing with a chuckle, Derek also chuckling before groaning in pain. “Sorry.” you whispered, noticing the pain he was in. 
“I’m taking you on a date once I’m better.” Derek told you, one of his hands coming to hold yours which was still on his face. 
“You better.” chuckling, you leant down and laid a small kiss on Derek’s forehead as the rest of the team watched on, smiles on their faces, relieved that the two of you finally figured it all out, even if you needed Emily to spell it out for you to realise.
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