If/when you watch Guardians of the Galaxy 2, I'd love to see your thoughts on the connections between Nebula & Gamora's relationship and Loki & Thor's
okay! so now I have finally seen the movie and can answer your question, anon.
there are certainly similarities - I mean, obviously, sibling rivalry between a favored older sibling and a neglected younger sibling.
one major difference, though, is that both Nebula and Gamora come from horrible trauma - both of them were abused by Thanos and both of them grew up in a hideous environment where they were both nurtured to be killers. and I am absolutely certain that Thanos’s playing them against each other was far more deliberate than Odin’s behavior shaping the competition between Thor and Loki.
the stakes for them were different than they ever were for Thor and Loki, and while Loki at this point in canon has that trauma, Thor doesn’t. it’s a common ground that Nebula and Gamora have, and a common understanding of the world, that Thor and Loki don’t share. (which changes, I think, the way they relate to each other pretty vitally.)
one thing I thought of while I was thinking about this, though, was the parallel between Nebula’s “you wanted to win, and all I wanted was a sister” and Loki’s “I never wanted a throne, I only wanted to be your equal”. there is also the way that both Nebula and Loki define themselves by their opposition to Gamora/Thor - part of their identity becomes the way in which they are not/are against their sibling.
I feel like there’s less hope for Thor and Loki to have the kind of resolution that Nebula and Gamora had in this movie - both because of story requirements (Marvel not wanting to lose one of their most popular villains) and because of the difference in background.
paradoxically, because Gamora and Nebula never had the positive ground to begin with, I think it’s easier for them to start building something once they’re both away from Thanos’s corrosive influence, where Thor and Loki ruined a previously good relationship all on their own - which is a lot harder to rebuild, in some ways.
Hey Janel, I am sad and I am angry and I am cold. I know it's not your headcanon, but can you write me some Jewish Harry celebrating Hannukkah with Draco or Shabbat or something? I am so tired. I am so, so tired.
Draco apparates into the kitchen, frowning as he glances at the clock on the wall. It’s not exactly late, in fact the sun is just beginning to set, but he’d promised to be home early for their anniversary, a plan which had failed miserably when he’d been detained at work.
“Harry! I’m home, sorry I’m late I-” but he stops short on his way into the living room when he sees Harry with his head slightly bent leaning over the table.
He smiles to himself at the sight; at the familiar prayer being softly spoken as Harry lights the two candles. He’d been so preoccupied with it being their anniversary he’d completely forgotten it was Friday. He quietly takes a few steps backwards, leaning against the wall and watching until the other man finishes. There’s something beautiful about watching Harry do this every week, about the look of peace and belonging on his face as he lights the candles, and Draco relishes the rare opportunity to simply watch him unnoticed.
When Harry turns around a moment later he looks surprised for only a few seconds before a warm smile appears on his face. “I didn’t hear you come home.”
“Yes well you were busy. I didn’t want to interrupt,” Draco whispers, striding across the room and pulling Harry into a firm embrace.
“Happy Anniversary, Harry,” he whispers earnestly, pressing several soft kisses down the side of Harry’s neck.
“Happy anniversary,” he answers back, tangling his hands in Draco’s hair and tugging lightly until Draco’s mouth moves from Harry’s neck to his lips.
The kiss is equal parts tender and desperate and Draco is quite sure he will never ever tire of this, of Harry.
“Do you want your gift?” Draco asks when they finally pull apart, but Harry shakes his head, grabbing Draco’s hand and pulling it towards the staircase.
“I only want you,” Harry tells him, and the certainty in his voice makes Draco’s toes curl and his stomach flutter.
“That’s good,” Draco says, wondering if his voice sounds as shaky as it feels. “Because you’re the only thing I want too.”
They want you to keep your head down. Good liberal,
we don’t want your voice, only your rights.
Women, we just want your body (if it’s shaven, waxed,
thin, plucked clean, quiet, appetizing) and to tell you
what goes in and out of it. Answer: I, consensual or
not, have permission. Planned Parenthood does not.
The coat hanger does not. Don’t destroy your body,
it’s the only thing about you we want.
Muslim people, it’s not that we hate you, and we
definitely don’t fear you. It’s just… well, you know
how you can be. (See: there’s extremists in every
religion, but you’re the only ones we’re going to
blame because you don’t look like us and we’re
going to claim to want inclusivity so if you could
not tell anybody about this conversation, that’d
People of color, the urban youth, the walking target –
no, I mean gun, you saw they had a gun right? (If you
think gun means body and body means darker skin
which means enemy.) And hey, will you ever stop
blaming us for our ancestors? And hey, we’re never
going to stop with the false statistics. And hey, we’re
only going to give you credit when we need to fill up
our demographic pool.
LGBT people – we gave you marriage equality, what
more do you want? Just keep it behind closed doors.
Just don’t show your pride in public. Just, tone it
down a little, won’t you? It’s not that we don’t respect
you – it’s just, the bible, you know? It’s just, your
sinning might be contagious. Just – there’s only two
genders and you’re proof of something I can’t
understand so I know you must be wrong. (Because
if you can’t understand it, it’s a sin, it’s a nuance, it’s a
Natives, this country may have been yours, but that
story paints us at the villain, and we can’t let our
superhero capes go to waste. We can’t let our kids
know that we killed (tortured / raped / massacred /
conquered) your people for this land and then gave
you some reservations to make you think you’d
won anything at all. (Your story may be the real one,
but hey, we’re America, and we can twist the story
in our favor no matter how many lies are tucked in
Lifting our head for the next four years is going to be
an act of rebellion. Bad liberal, we don’t want your
disgusting thoughts, we just want your votes.
Listen, I wasn’t going to say anything but this has been sitting on my chest for a while and with the whole dibs situation going on I need to say my peace.
Y'all do know that not everything is about race, right? Sometimes there’s a situation going on with a particular character that sparks an influx of head canons for them. Or sometimes someone just feels a personal connection to one of the characters which is why a lot of their content is geared towards them.
Personally, I don’t wake up each day thinking “What new content can I come up with today?” I read the comic and then things pop into my brain. Or I’ll come across something in my own life and think “This is something this character would do or say.” It’s all by chance. Some days there’s a lot of Nursey and/or Dex. Some days there’s a lot of Ransom and/or Holster. Some days there’s a lot of Chowder or Kent or Lardo or Shitty. Some days there’s absolutely nothing. That’s how it goes.
If someone is creating content for a character that is racist, obviously that’s an issue that needs to be addressed. But claiming that an influx of content for one character who’s white means that the people creating it are racist is a stretch. You can not force anyone to make content for any particular character. Unless you are paying them, that is not a right that you have. If you’re unhappy with the content that is available for one character, create it yourself. Or pay someone to create it for you.
Also… I think it’s interesting how y'all want to complain about content for the white side characters like Dex and Holster and Kent but you don’t say a word about how much content there is for Jack and Bitty, a fully white couple. The overwhelming majority of the content created in this fandom is Zimbits but the only time I ever see any racism claims is when there’s something going on with a side character. Is your problem actually because of racism or is it just because your favorite character doesn’t get as much content as you want them to?
'you've never let yourself fall in love before, but I know you have with me' with cassian andor :)
“I’m afraid she’s backed you into a corner, Cassian.”
“Quiet, K2,” he almost snarls, spinning away from the two of you. “This is none of your concern. Leave.”
For once, the droid complies almost immediately, and you’re equal parts grateful and disappointed when the room is left to a tense silence. Cassian is still facing away from you, and you realize you’re starting to regret saying anything in the first place.
“You’re right,” he mumbles, just when you think it’s better to leave. “I do love you, and you’re probably the first person I’ve ever felt this way about. But I’m a coward, and I don’t want to know what it’s like to have you only to lose you. There is a lot I can handle, and that is something I know I could not.”
“Oh, Cass,” you murmur, walking over to where he stands, placing a tentative hand on the small of his back as you press yourself against his side.
“It’ll take a hell of a lot to keep me away from you. I love you too much for that.”
Summary: You say goodbye to your father and meet with Castiel.
A/N: Constructive feedback is always appreciated. If you’d like to be added to my master tag list, let me know. The Enochian phrase “ol aziazor elasa Goaal” translates to “I love you, Father (creator.)
“I take it you’re little meeting didn’t go as planned?” Lucifer asked after suddenly appearing behind you.
“Dammit!” you shouted in surprise. “The fuck is wrong with you?!”
He pursed his lips together to keep from smiling. “I’ll take that as a yes. I tried to tell you, Princess, they’re not ever going to understand. When they look at you, all they see is me; someone who’s ready to wreck the world. So why not give them what they expect?”
You squeezed your eyes shut and shook your head. “Do you know how to shut the fuck up? Just… stop talking.”
He cocked his head at you and smiled. “You know I’m right. It’s only a matter of time.”
Eleven used to consider herself a monster before, so it isn’t so hard to take it in when they first find out she now considers herself selfish.
The boys would try to understand what she’s going through no matter how illogical this matter seems to them, because this is their El after all. The girl who risked her life and spent an entire year in the Upsidedown to save their lives, the girl who broke Troy’s arm because he tried to hurt Dustin and Mike, the girl who forgave Lucas and never looked back to his mistakes, the girl who helped them wholeheartedly to save Will Byers: a boy she’d never met before just because she knew he was important to them.
It’s until Will gently asks her when they’re all gathered at the Byers Household to elaborate on the source of her feelings that the true issue comes to light. “I don’t want anything bad to ever happen to any of you, because I want you all to stay with me forever. That means I only care about myself… right?”
Touched and equally pained to see Eleven like that is an understatement to how the boys feel in that moment. It takes weeks of all the praises Dustin can think of, the emotional support only a brother can give (from Will), the logical arguments of validation from Lucas, and no other than one of Mike’s characteristic explanations to let her see where she’s wrong.
“When you care about someone, you want them by your side, there’s no other way to put it. Those two feelings go together like peanut butter and jelly, but because you want the people that you love to be with you… That doesn’t mean you only care about you. That’s not how it works, because you don’t get to choose how to feel.” Says Mike one day when they’re sitting together in the basement’s blanket fort.
And there’s a lot about love that she’s yet to understand, but at least for now Eleven is sure of one thing: She needs these boys around to give them back twice the support they provide her.
Okay so two things. One: I adore your Naruto fics, and you need a god-damn award for your writing, honestly. You made me rediscover my dormant love for Orochimaru and I am, once again, knee-deep in the Naruto fandom, and it's all your fault! Second: One thing that needs to be mentioned separately is your depiction of the Sannin (don't get me started on them, honestly I won't shut up, I'll fight a swarm of piranhas for them if I have to) bc it's so good? 1/?
Bc honestly, in canon the Sannin are a goddamn miracle, bc somehow Kishimoto-equal-relationships-between-male-and-female-characters-what-is-that-Masashi made the MOST FUCKED UP TEAM IN KONOHA HISTORY the ONLY team that actually has the male and female members working as equals together instead of the boys fighting each other and the girl being left out. And like… buddy, I mean, their team is a fucking train wreck and all of them need six hugs and some fucking therapy.
But STILL! They are equals, ALWAYS and they act like it and it’s never implied that their relationship is somehow more intense between two members than it is between all three of them. They are a fucking trainwreck, I want all of them to just… have some god damn peace and quiet and breathe for a minute. But honestly, in the end, they are the only team that is really, truly equal, and your stories manage to bring that out more clearly than I’ve ever seen before. Thank you for that.
This is pretty much a neat summary of why I love the Sannin so freaking much. For all that they’re kind of created as a pre-Generation Xerox for the future, they’re not like any of the teams that come after them. Their potential is mind-bending, and just - yes, to all of this.
Hey! Would you mind doing an scenario of a poli relationship between Viktor, Yurio and a shy girl? Not triangle, just the each one loving the other 2. Thanks you!
I LOVE WRITING POLY STUFF. It’s literally my favorite. I hope you enjoy this as much as I do. In this scenario, Yurio is legal age, considering him and Viktor are 12 years apart. enjoy!
A boy asking you out was doubtful, but two boys asking you out at the same time to be in a conjoined relationship with you had never crossed your mind. And that is what was happening now.
“What do you say, (Y/n)?” Viktor asked, smoothly, leaning against the railing of the public ice rink. You worked at the community building right next to it.
“I. . .” You stuttered, looking between him and Yuri, who stood with his arms crossed and a blush on his face. You knew there was a good 12 year age difference between them, but always saw Viktor sneaking Yuri kisses and compliments when they skated or got hot chocolate.
“I don’t understand. . .” You admitted. “Both of you. . . want to date me? At the same time?” You asked.
“(Y/n), have you ever heard of a polyamorous relationship?” Viktor asked. “It’s where more than two people are in an equal relationship and love each other just like a normal relationship between two people.” He explained.
“She probably knows what it is; she’s not stupid.” Yuri snapped at Viktor, which only made him laugh.
“I just didn’t think you guys were like that. I mean, Viktor, you flirt with everyone, and I always thought Yurio hated me.” You murmured to yourself, looking down at the snow. Both men were surprised at your words.
“I don’t hate you.” Yuri exclaimed, although a little more aggressive than he meant. “I like you and my stupid boyfriend likes you, so what’s the matter?” Viktor put a hand on his shoulder to try to calm him down.
“That was blunt.” He commented.
“Well, you were pussyfooting around it.” Yuri growled back. The sight of them was pretty entertaining, especially the fact that they were holding hands now.
“Sure.” You brought their attention back to yourself, making you blush. “We can go out on a date together to see if. . . this,” You gestured between all three of you. “-works.” Viktor grinned happily and saw a tiny smile on Yurio’s face.
“Wonderful!Here’s my number.” Viktor passed you a paper that it seemed like he had always been carrying around.
“And mine.” Yurio scribbled out on a piece of paper, not as prepared as Viktor was.
“I’ll. . . text you guys tonight and we can set up an arrangement?” It was more of a question than a statement.
“We’ll be looking forward to it.” Viktor smiled.
The date went perfectly, albeit pretty awkward at first. You all started dating after that and two months later they offered for you to move in with them. So, here you were, living in an apartment with the two men.
“I don’t get why he doesn’t just run away.” Yuri mumbled as he laid across your lap on the couch. You had learned by now that Yurio could be very affectionate when he wanted to and he craved physical contact, not in a sexual way most of the time.
“Because he still loves his mom.” You whispered, running your fingers through his blonde hair. The movie Secondhand Lions was playing on the TV, seeing as you had to force Yuri to watch it. He was the type of person to say he didn’t like something without actually doing it, but love it once he did. You still felt embarrassed when he stretched across your lap like a cat, not used to such sweet contact.
“She’s a bitch. Who abandons their kid like that?” Yuri was getting very heated. Viktor came over to the couch with his laptop, moving Yuri’s legs aside so he could sit down.
“What’s playing?” Viktor asked, leaning over to kiss your cheek, making you blush. “The fact that you still blush when I kiss you makes you all the more cute.” He chuckled, kissing your lips this time. Yuri cleared his throat, earning a kiss on the top of his head from Viktor.
“It’s a movie about a kid living with his grandparents, who have a fortune and buy a lion.” Yuri explained in clip notes.
“That reminds me of your grandpa, Yurochka.” Viktor smiled a little. Yuri blushed when that was mentioned and decided he liked the movie even more.
“Meeting your coach and your grandpa were probably the scariest moments in my life.” You admitted. You met Yuri’s grandfather a month and a half after you started dating. He was very important and Yuri wanted to know his opinion on this new relationship. When his grandfather responded with “If my Yurochka is happy, I’m happy.”, Yuri lit up with a type of light that you had never seen before. After that, his grandfather insisted teaching you how to cook some of Yuri’s favorite things and learn about Russian culture, which you happily listened and followed him into the kitchen.
“My grandfather likes you.” Yuri pointed out.
“I still meet with him every other Thursday to cook.” You smiled, running your fingers through Yuri’s hair again.
“That’s sweet of you.” Viktor kissed you again.
“Anything for you two.” You smiled back, kissing Viktor and Yuri on the head.
Something you could never understand- I wanted to be your equal, your companion, lover and best friend.
Maybe it was too much too ask of us, our reputation has been much too scarred the last couple of years…how could I ever expect to be your best friend too, I was hardly even a lover.
The only thing we communicated well at was making love-
U yelled and blamed me. I cried and blamed myself.
I’m sad, but okay too.
I realize I’m running out of options, I really tried to make it work.
But like you said, “I ain’t ever changing…this is what you came back to you knew what to expect.”
Yes, I expected too much.
I expected respect, a little bit of patience and a whole lot of love.
TOO much to ask.
U said I need to help myself, you can’t help me.
So of course it’s easy 4 u 2 throw my traumas back in my face.
The root of all my pain, you know what it is and in confidence I am able to confide, but when shit hits the fan you bring it to light, make a mockery of me ~ the one thing I hate about you is how you’re always so good at making me cry.
Its my fault.
Too sensitive, so u want me to change-
But the faults you’ve got inside, they’re staying
which means my sadness will always live inside.
Its always been what it is, it’s always been what it ain’t.
Silly of me to try and make something glitter and gold when it already turned to rust.
A/N: Just something running through my head for the past few days. Didn’t quite turn out how I wanted-especially the end, but oh well.
“You seem a little too happy for someone roped into a family reunion that isn’t theirs.” You mentioned, eyeing your boyfriend.
Klaus simply smiled, taking a sip of his wine. “Despite what you may think of your family, they are fairly pleasant. If it were my family gathering, someone surely would be dead by now.”
You refrained from pointing out that he’d mostly likely be the perpetrator. Instead you chose to eye your tipsy second cousin trying hit on someone’s spouse. “I don’t know. If my cousin Jean doesn’t stop flirting with every non-related man, she’s going to get her ass kicked.”
“I can’t disagree with you there. Though it’s tragic from what your grandmother told me, Jean was a fairly nice girl back in the day.” Klaus hummed.
You rolled your eyes. “I can’t believe my gram likes you.”
He smirked. “She’s a fascinating woman. Has almost as much stories to tell as I do.”
“You’re unbelievable.” You muttered.
His smirk only widened. “It’s not just her. Your parents have been introducing me as their son all night.”
A groaned escaped you. “We’re not even married.”
Klaus shrugged giving you a fond look. “Perhaps we should. Then this could be my crazy family reunion as well.”
You couldn’t help, but smile at his words. Who would’ve thought the original hybrid would be so sentimental? If someone told you three months ago, that Klaus would be helping your mom with groceries, reminiscing with gram, or playing war with Dad, you would’ve laughed. Now however, you could see his desire to be a part of it all.
Locking fingers with him, you shot Klaus an equally fond look. “It already is. Besides I thought we were your boring family, remember?”
He shot you a surprised look, but before Klaus could reply your dad called him over. “Klaus, I need someone to back me up in a game of bags. And who better to do it than my own son?”
“See? Already apart of it, but just know I don’t plan on ever calling you brother.” You teased, pushing him towards your dad.
Klaus hesitated for a second, swooping down to give you a quick kiss. “Good, because the only thing I want to be called is husband.”
Yoongi reacts before he even allows himself to think for a second.
Jimin’s trying to leave, squeezing through the crowd that’s gathering in between pushcart stalls so he can get to the other side (away from Yoongi)and for fuck’s sake Jimin is fast, he really is, but thank god Yoongi is faster.
He slaps a hand around Jimin’s wrist and tugs the younger male backwards so fast he hears a few surprised gasps from people passing him by, expressions twisted in disapproval over his act of violence but he doesn’t care, Yoongi can’t bring himself to care.
He simply cups his hands over Jimin’s cheeks, feeling how cold they are before he forces Jimin to look upwards — so he can see the thick line that’s looped around the younger male’s neck, thoroughly black.
Yoongi almost punched a wall from that.
He doesn’t want to believe in it, wants to grab any other people who are now rushing past him with cautiousness to ask them to take a look for him, to tell him that his eyes are playing tricks but somewhere in this sick world’s arrangement, Yoongi’s the only one in this world who’s cursed with the ability to see the dark ring that’s squeezing around people’s necks without them knowing.
The darker it is…
“You’re dying, Jimin.”
“Well maybe I want to—” Jimin snaps in protest before shoving his hands away roughly. “I told you I don’t want to see you ever again.”
“Only because you don’t want me to know.” Yoongi breathes in realization. “Jimin… for fuck’s sake.”
“Getting a little too smug there aren’t we, Yoongi? Don’t overestimate your own value.”
Yoongi’s hands are practically digging into Jimin’s shoulders as he forcefully drags the other back again, breathing harsher this time when he glares at Jimin who simply returns an equally angered look.
“Let me go—”
“I’m not going to make the same mistake twice, Jimin.”
For a second, something flashes in Jimin’s eyes. Something softer, something that almost reminds Yoongi of the mornings they woke up next to each other, and the nights they slept through together. It almost gave Yoongi a flicker of hope if not for how Jimin’s starting to pull away from his grip, trying to slip away like he did weeks ago.
“You can’t save me, Yoongi.”
“The hell do you mean I can’t? Look at all the other people we’ve saved together, Jimin.” Yoongi’s eyebrows furrow when Jimin actually stops struggling, and looks so defeated suddenly it’s almost scary. “You know everyone can be saved. Look at Jungkook, Taehyung, Hoseok and so many other people—”
“We played gods enough, Yoongi. You and I both know nothing good will come out of messing with what life has decided.” Jimin pulls his hand away with one violent tug so he can rub at his neck gently, around the dark ring he can feel beneath his fingertips. “Now someone has to pay. I have to pay.”
Jimin casts one last look at Yoongi before zipping his jacket up, trying to adjust at the collars so the dark ring’s completely out of Yoongi’s sight but it doesn’t help, not a single bit. All Yoongi can see right now is the dark ring that’s looped around Jimin’s neck, his Jimin’s neck.
It’s not supposed to happen.
“Let me help, Jimin—”
“Every time someone escapes death another person gets chosen to be the scapegoat, Yoongi. Don’t you see the pattern?” Jimin exhales softly and gestures for Yoongi to stop chasing, almost pleadingly as he takes a step backwards. “It’s time this wicked cycle should stop.”
“Let it stop with me.”
Then Jimin’s gone, pushing himself through the crowd intentionally so Yoongi will lose sight of him, so Yoongi doesn’t have to be there and watch when death comes knocking on his door. But he doesn’t get to see how lost Yoongi seems instead, standing in the middle of the long street looking like his world just split into complete halves.
Because I obviously love hurting myself with writing.
Title: A Broken (Bare)Bone. Pairing: Implied - Credence Barebone x Reader. Words: 1137 Rating: T. (Mentions of abuse.)
Shuffling around in your small kitchen, you filled the tea kettle with water before setting it on the stove, turning it on so it would heat up. The young man sitting in your living room looked like he had just faced death, or something even more vividly terrifying so you thought that a hot cup of something would bring back some sort of life to his current white as a sheet complexion. Credence was quiet for the longest time, gazing around the room before resting his eyes on his hands. There were scars there, from days past. Wounds had healed physically but so many were open mentally, he wondered if he’d ever be the same again. Credence pressed his teeth together for a moment, the ringing in his ears intensifying when he did. He had something in him that wasn’t normal. He was never normal, try though he may.
And he trusted Percival Graves to help him accomplish a more normal secure life in Magic. Not the fear he found himself constantly in. He wanted… He wanted…!
Something inside of him snapped before he could finish his thought and so his next statement came from a very careful place in his mind.
“I-I’m so afraid…” To admit something so personal and dangerous was that in itself. A danger. Continuing to staring down at his hands with doe-like brown eyes, Credence took a deep breath in. It was fire and hell to even do that much. It felt like someone had been stomping on his ribcage with all their might, trying to put out an already dead fire. The way he spoke made it apparent that his words were true. Hesitant, slow and unsure of what a reaction might bring because typically, most reactions he’s encountered haven’t been the good kind that he wanted to remember. It also appeared like he was speaking directly to his hands, though you know he was talking to you. The imagery of what he was capable of doing without meaning to was what scared him.
With his hands shaking now, he balled them into fists to contain his last bit of self-awareness at the moment. There was nothing but silence between the two of you as you poured hot water in a teacup. You know what you wanted to say and what you wanted to do, but was it appropriate. You wanted to say, ‘I know you’re afraid, Credence… I know… And I wish I could take it away, but I’m not that strong… The best I can do is…’ You’d stop talking them and embrace him like you had wanted to. You wanted to hold his cold body against yours, brush his dark hair back and tell him that eventually, things were going to be okay. Whether maternal instinct or something more, you weren’t sure but that’s what you yearned while setting the now steaming teacup in front of him.
He looked drained, as if he hadn’t slept the entire week. His face was slacked into a twisted version of its usual self, the dark circles under his eyes were heavy on his pale skin. “What if I’m not meant to keep it under control though?” He pondered out-loud and gazed up at you as you sat next to him. “What if it wants me to let go? Wants me to be the bad guy because it knows that’s who I really am?” The leaking insecurities in himself were let out in the tone of voice he was using to talk to you. It was painful to listen to so you could only imagine how painful it must have been for Credence himself to speak. It was cracking around words, some being heavier said than others as if he had lost all sort of security in talking. His breathing became slightly labored as it was harder to intake air once again. The sensation of someone stepping all over his torso found itself back in his body.
You weren’t even sure what you were going to say in this sort of situation, but you found yourself spewing his name regardless of any rational thought. “Credence.” His dark eyes left the scape of your table that he was staring at previously so he could look back at you. The abundance of fear in his eyes made you want to burst into tears. Someone so young, someone so close to you with so much on their shoulders and so much plaguing their mind… You weren’t even thinking as you raised a hand and pressed it against his sharp jawline very tenderly. The chill of his skin against yours made you gasp ever so quietly as you rubbed your fingers and hushed him. “I-I don’t know what you want me to say.” You muttered, “What… I should say…”
“Don’t… Don’t leave me like everyone else does.” He said without pulling away from your slight embrace. If anything, Credence found himself tilting his head towards your open hand and soaked in the unfamiliar warmth. That only lasted a moment before he squeezed his eyes shut and cried quietly. Literal tears weren’t shown until he opened his eyes but the moment he did it was like a waterfall. They’d build in the corner of his eyes before cascading down his face. The tears on the right side would get caught on your hand as you wiped them away. Some were getting caught on his eyelashes, and when Credence would blink, they’d be sent off. “I th-thought for the longest time… ‘I can do this alone’.” He straggled in front of you and grasped your hand tightly. “I can’t… I can’t!
“I never wanted to hurt anyone!” Credence was a bit louder than he usually was now as he sat back in his seat, pushing your hand away so he could rub his eyes with the backs of his hands. It was pointless as the tears were constantly flowing now. “I on-only wanted to feel like… I belonged somewhere…”
You felt your heart drop into your stomach at the desperation slacking behind his words. Shuffling in his seat, Credence shuddered and nodded to himself, ready to speak but you were fast to intercede, “You belong here.” Of course he did, you thought to yourself and leaned forward in your seat, “You belong here with me… I’m not going anywhere. I’m not leaving. I’ll stay by your side, Credence, until you don’t need me anymore.”
He got quiet once again and stared at you through wide eyes. Even in
the light of the room, it was hard to see his pupils due to the natural
darkness of his iris. “I don’t want you to leave, ever…” Credence drew a
deep breath into his lungs and exhaled equally as slow as his glance
left yours. There was something utterly strange about the dependence he had found with you. You’d listen, you’d give advice if you could, the way you cared for him unlike anyone cared for him before was merely breathtaking in so many ways. Graves was the only other person, but even that seemed strained and forced at times.
Never with you.
“I’m always going to need you.”
Hope you guys liked! Reblogs and likes are appreciated as always! Have a good day!!!
@got.it.girl progress using my #bbg program!! She says “It’s actually not about a number or how you look or whether your booty is big enough or your abs shredded enough or whatever it is that happens to be in fashion body-wise that season. It is about the shift that happens when you show your body the respect and kindness that it deserves day in and day out, in the way you speak to yourself, what you do for yourself, and what you expect of yourself. I was equally awesome in both photos, but (as you can see from my face 😅) I only realised that in the second photo after finally shifting my focus from wanting to look a certain way, to wanting to FEEL a certain way. And that’s when it all started coming together for me. Loving your body will get you further than hating it ever will” www.kaylaitsines.com/app #bbgprogress
Congratulations is a song sung primarily by Angelica to Hamilton. Every now and again Hamilton will but in, but this song is about Angelica Schuyler. In the opening they say each other’s names in their respective melodies. Angelica has always played this character who is the backbone for her family. When she comes in softly singing his name one might immediately think she has come to comfort him in this time of stress. It becomes apparent the Hamilton thinks the same.
Then Angelica begins. She starts off with “Congratulations, you have invented a new kind of stupid, a damage you can never undo kind of stupid, an open all the cages in the zoo kind of stupid, truly you didn’t think this through kind of stupid,” and at this point the audience knows she is not here to coddle Alexander, she is here as a big sister, and perhaps another woman whose heart Hamilton has broken. She goes on immediately to “review” everything he’s done regarding the Reynold’s Pamphlet.
“You took a rumor a few maybe two people knew and refuted it by sharing an affair of which no one has accused you
I begged you to take a break, you refused to
So scared of what your enemies will do to you
You’re the only enemy you ever seem to lose to
You know why Jefferson can do what he wants?
He doesn’t dignify school-yard taunts with a response!
So yeah, congratulations!”
Yeah Angelica isn’t happy, but let it be known that Angelica raps this section. She is coming to Alexander not as a woman but as an intellectual equal. I have talked before about the importance of rapping in Hamilton. It is usually done by the rebels with a fight and a cause, ready to overturn global superpowers. The characters who rap are the characters who are breaking out of the norm. Angelic Schuyler is the only woman who does this, and almost everytime she does it she is showing some form of brilliance. Her fight with Alexander isn’t just a fight of love, something the usual woman in a musical sings about, no she is first taking him down on an intellectual level. She is basically saying, “You are stupid, and you won’t ever be as good as Jefferson because you act like a child.” Boom, first burn, and she is far from done.
“You’ve redefined your legacy
Until this point Hamilton does little more than sing her name during her pauses. A man you usually can’t shut up has nothing to say to this woman who is really tearing in on him until she mentions his legacy. Hamilton’s legacy is important to him, after all that is why he published The Reynold’s Pamphlet to begin with. He would rather be seen as a cheater, than someone who embezzled money from the government. Hamilton says “It was an act of political sacrifice!”. He does not know how bad he’s messed up by saying that. He struck a nerve.
“Sacrifice?” Angelica addresses, and in I picture her leaving after her last Congratulation only to hear him talk about sacrifice. She whirls around to look at him. Then she sings. Angelica sings when she’s taking up her gender role, i.e. she is becoming the woman in musicals that we’re used to. The type of woman he sings about her woes, but she still is so strong in her words that she doesn’t just seem like every other woman.
I languished in a loveless marriage in London
I lived only to read your letters
I look at you and think ‘God, what have we done with our lives and what did it get us?’
That doesn’t wipe the tears or the years away
But I’m back in the city and I’m here to stay
And you know what I’m here to do?”
All Hamilton can do again is sing her name, but this time he seems hopeful, like she’s about to lend a hand. But Angelica responds, “I’m not here for you. I know my sister like I know my own mind You will never find anyone as trusting or as kind.” These words are familiar of course. These lines made it into the song “The Reynold’s Pamphlet”. In that song it’s when we know beyond a doubt that Angelica isn’t here to comfort Hamilton, she is back in New York all the way from London for the benefit of her sister. (Sisters before misters, am I right?)
However in “Congratulations” Angelica has some different lyrics after that that change up everything.
And a million years ago she said to me 'this one’s mine’
So I stood by
Do you know why?
I love my sister more than anything in this life
I will choose her happiness over mine every time
Angelica tells Hamilton for the first time that she wanted him at The Winter’s Ball. She let her sister have Hamilton because she loves Eliza more than anything else, and especially more than she loves Hamilton. At this point I wondered if she is not just angry that he cheated on Eliza, but that he cheated on her with Maria Reynolds, a woman of much less esteem than the Schuyler sisters. Could it be possible that Angelica felt betrayed that he chose to be unfaithful with a woman that wasn’t her? It is constantly referenced that Angelica and Alexander had a closer relationship than that of in-laws. The fact that he presented himself to another woman must have been a devastating blow. Knowing Angelica she would have to feel unbelievably guilty about this part of her that is hurt because Hamilton didn’t choose her, so her next lines make sense.
“[Eliza] Is the best thing in our lives
So never lose sight of the fact that you have been blessed with the best wife
For the rest of your life
Every sacrifice you make is for my sister
Give her the best life
It’s like she had to remind herself of how good her sister is, and why she gave up Hamilton, because Eliza is kindest person she knows, so she demands that Hamilton give Eliza the best life from here on out. It seem as though the finality of the words are more for herself than Alexander. She’s declaring this flirtatious love affair that she and Hamilton had over. She’s done with him.