Ok, I’m sniffling and blogging with one eye open right now (hopefully raving more this weekend) but damn, this episode!!!
13x10 was phenomenally done as a backdoor pilot—the solid composition of the characters, the bad-ass feminist action, the new monsters, the premise, and the interpersonal relationships satisfied me so much! One AMAZING aspect? They utilized key parallels with Dean/Sam/Cas = Claire/Patience & Alex/Kaia. And 13x10 was this big-ass expositional Destiel episode via Claire/Kaia.
Claire and Kaia’s interactions were deliberately infused with homoerotic overtones and ABSOLUTELY mirrored Dean and Cas’ own dynamic (right down to 12x23 Dean re: Cas’ death in the AU).
The prolonged eye contact, touching (oh, the hand-holding), wordless tension, shy smiles (showing someone your scars–scars derived from personal life encounters–is an intimate act)—-
—-private conversations (three instances: 1. outside the house, 2. in the sitting room before Patience warned them about her vision [which makes you wonder what they were talking about prior to being interrupted *Claire/Kaia’s first offscreen gap*] 3. in Jody’s car), and–
Listen *addresses ‘you’re-reading-too-much-into it’ antis* this is almost word-for-word verbatim.
Their relationship “seems” advertently non-platonic because the audience is meant to read their relationship as non-platonic. They literally applied the exact same narrative tropes and visual cues of the Dean/Cas love story. I felt like I was watching an Ode to Destiel montage!! *sips bourbon*
Feel free to dismiss Claire/Kaia as familial in the context of Wayward Sister friendship because yeah, they did become friends, but they were narratively framed as having a distinct characteristic dynamic that’s different from the other girls:another Love and…Love.
Not to mention that their reaction shots held romantic potential i.e. there was time allotted to camera shots of Kaia’s dead body juxtaposed with Claire crying as she grieved, hence presenting the (tbh, textually overt) connotation that Claire cared for Kaia deeply unlike Alex and Patience. Sound familiar? Uh huh, the Sam vs Dean reaction contrast in response to Cas-centric problems (Cas-centric LOSSES).
Kaia also understood Claire’sfeelings without her needing to verbalize them (“You’re scared”) as well as stood with her in solidarity–a direct callback to Cas’ respective loyalty to Dean.
Bonuses: - Kaia being stabbed with a spear = Cas being stabbed with a spear by Ramiel in 12x12 - Claire’s journaling = Dean’s ‘girl journaling’ in therapy-themed 13x04
((**Note: let’s say we exclude Destiel and observe Claire and Kaia as two female friends. It’s “”easier to see the gay”” since they are women, not men; lesbian fetishization by hypermasculine macho dudes within hegemonic heteronormative society makes Claire/Kaia blatant and it displeases me greatly because they parallel Dean/Cas WHO ARE MEN but anyway))
Glad to have you back! 👍😍👍 I hope this isn't being pushy, but could I request my own female farmer with pink hair and a big yellow sweater? If that's to pushy(sorry if it is) Then could I request Harvey? Thank you 😃
“Maybe after your appointment you can come up and look at the new model I’ve been working on…? Is that too forward? Gosh, sorry.”
To all the people who’ve joined the Markiplier thing:
I deeply apologize, but if you’re following me, I would appreciate it if you don’t interact with my blog. Last night, I ended up having the worst nightmare I’ve ever had since I was a little kid, like, a shaking, screaming, crying nightmare, because of this. It’s scaring me really badly and after the nightmare, it’s become a huge trigger for me. If I see you on my dash, I’ll write down your URL, unfollow you, and then follow you again when this whole thing is over. If you continue to interact with my blog, I will be forced to block you.
You can still reblog/like/etc my posts, I just won’t check my activity, but please don’t tag me in things or send me asks/messages for now.
I’m really, really sorry, but I don’t feel like having a panic attack every five minutes because of a stupid profile picture. I love you guys, but for the sake of my mental health, I have to do this.
Can we stop with the whole “go outside” thing? Like telling people to go outside because they are being ignorant or you’re not understanding them is ableist and stupid. Like first of all, just explain to them how they’re wrong and try to educate people rather than being rude.
Second of all, even if you “go outside” you don’t usually interact with everyone and get correct information. If you “go outside” you’re not going to hear news about other countries.
The internet is a place where you can learn and communicate with others. You don’t have to go outside to know things unless they require hands on experience. You don’t have to go outside to make meaningful relationships. You don’t have to go outside to know what’s going on with the world.
Yes, going outside can help with all of these things. It’ll help you understand things better and see stuff first hand. But not everyone is able bodied or generally healthy enough to “go outside” so they know what’s going on in their communities.
It’s just stupid telling someone to go outside as a refute. Not everyone has a safe environment where they can go, whether it’s just for a pleasant walk, to meet new people, or join LGBT+ clubs.
Through the Internet you meet real people. Have discussions and conversations with real people. You can find creditable news and information on the internet.
So no, you don’t have to go outside or tell people to go outside to at least grasp an understanding of how the world is. The internet just gives various view points on just about everything. And you can make friends through the internet as well.
And if you’re just going to say “it’s just a joke,” well, hate to break it to you, but it’s probably only funny to you and other rude people. Bc it really isn’t funny. It doesn’t help anything or add to discourse. Just stop. Educate yourself and others without being a jackass. Be open to new concepts and be open to the possibility of you being wrong.
None of you will grow if you continue living in the mindset that you’re always right and don’t have to learn or look up anything new. Especially on subjects you think you’re an expert in. There’s always room to grow.
“Go outside” isn’t funny and doesn’t do/add to anything.
Be open to the possibility you’re wrong and be open to learning about new things and other peoples point of views.
I hate that they are having rey start from scratch with the Jedi just like luke started from scratch. I guess from now on we’re not building anything that lasts the new characters are always going to start from the same blank slate as the previous ones (same thing goes with leia and the now dead new republic and whoever will build the new new republic)
Yeah, I think this was pretty much their intention from the start, we just realized it too late. This trilogy is a reboot, not a sequel at all. Nothing achieved in the OT or the PT matters. And as much as they made a big deal about Rey’s parentage or Finn being stormtrooper, it is now painfully obvious they have no intention of exploring their background in any way. The message is clear - the past is burdensome and unimportant. Where you come from should not concern you - unless, of course, you are the edgy new villain, in which case we’ll restructure the story half-way through entirely around you. Welcome to New Star Wars everyone!
"there’s a real creep at the club trying to hit me up right now and you look pretty fit so pls pretend to be my date so he can leave" for the prompt!love your writing :) its okay If you dont want to also!
anon: you are so dear and kind!! i hope it’s okay that i went with killugon for this. please feel free to send me further prompts in the future if you’d like!!
The characters are definitely aged up, just to make that clear. xD
Gon wasn’t a frequent patron at HUNTER, the most popular underground club in the city, but when he got the urge to go out, he always found himself there by the end of the night. However, the select few companions whose company he prefered were busy, so Gon ventured forth alone. The atmosphere was lively, and though the air smelled of sweat and splashes of cocktails staining the floor, Gon never felt uncomfortable.
Until Hisoka made his move, that is.
Near the back of the dancing crowd, Gon took a break from dancing, catching his breath and allowing the music to keep his heart racing. A tall man sidled up next to him, draping an arm around Gon’s shoulders. Gon stiffened immediately.
“Here alone?” he said, shaking his head solemnly. “What a shame. Can’t be much fun without a partner. I’m Hisoka.”
“And I’m not interested,” Gon said, slipping away from Hisoka’s arm.
Rather than discouraging him, the comment seemed only to please Hisoka. “I like a little spirit,” he said. Slowly, deliberately, Hisoka slid his gaze over Gon’s body; the shiver that crawled down Gon’s back was of utter disgust. “Hmm, I’d say you’re just ripe.”
Gon dared to scan the crowd. He wasn’t very good with persistent creeps, but he was alone. Growing a little frantic, his gaze landed on another solitary patron—a white-haired boy wearing headphones decorated with illuminated cat ears.
Turning to Hisoka only long enough to glimpse his fading face paint, Gon said, “Excuse me,” and waded through the dancers until he was within range of his target. Drawing close enough to be in his sight, Gon waved and smiled, as though greeting an old friend.
The other boy, hands stuffed in his pockets, cocked an eyebrow and looked back and forth, trying to determine who Gon was seeking. When Gon came before him and stopped, the boy slipped his headphones off his ears.
“Can I help you?”
“Please just go along with this,” Gon said through his teeth. He glanced back at Hisoka who was still staring after him, a manicured finger pressed to his lips. “That Juggalo fuck won’t leave me alone.”
The boy followed his eyes discreetly, pressing his lips into a line. “Ah, him.”
“I’m Gon, by the way,” Gon said.
Gon extended a hand, grinning.
Killua grasped it, using the gesture to spin Gon in a tight circle. Pulling him closer at the end, Killua said, “He’s still watching, idiot. Don’t make it so obvious that we just met.”
“Ah, right,” Gon said sheepishly. “Do you know him?”
“He’s notorious,” Killua said, pressing the OFF button on his headphones. The music overhead still pulsed, but he could hear better without twice the distraction. “He goes to all the clubs in town. His favorite prey are the ones who go out alone—specifically the ones with nice asses.”
Gon raised his eyebrows. “You think I have a nice ass?”
A faint blush crept onto Killua’s cheeks. “Well, I—” Rolling his eyes, he peeked around Gon. “Yeah, actually. Damn. You do squats?”
Gon shrugged. “I think it’s natural.”
“No way.” In spite of himself, Killua grinned. He gestured toward the bar near the entrance of the club. “Wanna get a drink?”
At Gon’s agreement, the two made their way out the dancing crowd. Hisoka had vanished from where they last saw him, but his presence still lingered, hanging over the two of them like a perverted clown guardian angel.
As they neared the bar, Gon held up a hand to signal the bartender. A tall, muscular man with round glasses nodded in greeting. Gon perched on one of the barstools and adjusted the height. “I’ll take a glass of water—on the rocks,” he said, shooting the bartender a wink and bending his fingers into the shape of twin pistols.
The bartender rolled his eyes. “Yeah, yeah, coming right up.”
Sitting on the stool to the left of Gon, Killua asked, “You know him?”
“We go way back—”
“This kid showed up when we first opened,” the bartender said, using a silver scoop to fill a glass with ice. “Wouldn’t stop talking. Guess I got a little attached to him, somehow.”
Gon stuck out his tongue. “Leorio, you’re mean,” he said. Turning to Killua, he leaned against the countertop and continued. “I don’t drink, but I thought I’d give him business anyway. He always looked a little lonely.”
Ignoring the last comment, Leorio’s eyes brightened. “That’s right. It was the tips!” he said, nodding. He slid the glass over to Gon who anticipated it, cushioning its stop. Leorio resumed wiping down the bar, still smiling. “The kid was generous; how could I not like him?”
A flicker of unusual movement caught Killua’s attention; in his peripheral vision, he caught Hisoka’s figure, reclining against the opposite wall and clearly watching. Gon hadn’t noticed. Killua saw the curl of the clown’s lips, the slight tension in his muscles as he prepared to advance.
Killua draped his arm over Gon’s shoulders, drawing him closer until their cheeks were nearly touching. Though he’d been preparing to drink from his glass, Gon abandoned it, wrapping his arm around Killua’s waist.
Close enough to whisper without fear of being overheard, Gon said, “Killua?” Gon spoke almost breathlessly, and the proximity of their faces made Killua hold his breath.
“Hisoka’s back,” Killua managed to say. “It looked like he was going to come over.”
Gon frowned, moved closer so his forehead pressed against Killua’s. “Why can’t he just give up?” he whined.
Killua swallowed, stilled the tremor that almost reached his fingers. “Maybe you should leave while you have the chance.”
“That feels like I’m letting him win.”
“Would you rather wait for him to corner you in here?”
Gon barely took the time to think. “Not a chance.”
Glancing at the space Hisoka had been, Killua noted his sudden absence. Leaning back so he could look properly at Gon, he said, “How are you getting home? I don’t trust Hisoka to leave you alone.”
“We’ve only just met, and you care so much,” Gon mused. Killua flushed, but couldn’t reply. “I walked here. I only live a few blocks away.”
“I’ll go with you,” Killua said, detangling himself from Gon and allowing the air to cool his cheeks. “Just in case.”
Gon agreed without any objections. After tipping Leorio generously, he led the way outside. He chatted while Killua kept alert, and the farther they got from the club, the longer Killua wanted the trip to take.
In the darkness of night, beneath stars and street lamps, Killua wondered how Gon might react if he dared to reach out and hold his hand.
‘Ed and Ling buy a haunted house, but couldn’t be Less Bothered by the Sin Demons that haunt it’ AU
FMAB AU where Ed and Ling are roommates
at college having to find a house to live in for their second year. (Ed’s
studying Philosophy and Chemistry and Ling is studying Politics). So they end
up staying in an ancient wreck that’s haunted by the trapped souls of seven sin
demons who were summoned and imprisoned there.
[I really want to write this whole fic but it would be long as hec k and I just don’t have the time so here’s a kind of shorter version?? //sweats//]
It all starts with their need to find the absolute. cheapest. house. since they spend all their student money on food, books and Ed’s
increasingly expensive chemistry experiments.
Which leads them to Roy’s
Estate Agents office. The company is fairly new, so they’ve only managed to
acquire cheap, junky houses that the larger firms don’t want. (Roy’s starting
from the bottom, but he’s got plans ok, this estate agents firm will be the
biggest in the city, just you wait.)
After Ed insisting that
they really do want their absolute cheapest property and Roy scoffing that they really won’t want this
one. (’Look, we’re not picky. Just show us the cheapest one you’ve
got and we’ll take it. How bad could it be? It’ll be fine as long as it’s got a
roof,’ Ed breezes.) (’And a kitchen!’ Ling adds.)
Roy eventually agrees to show
them the very cheapest property they own just to get this whirlwind of
weirdness out of his office. (and definitely not out of some childish streak
the two boys seem to have brought out of him.) They can get what they wish for then, Roy
thinks smugly, setting up his Office Team Leader, and wife, Riza to take them to a viewing. She
shakes her head in disapproval.
They’re taken to this
freaking huge old style mansion of a house, which would be more impressive if
it didn’t look like something out of a horror movie - some of the grimy windows
have been smashed, weeds are growing out of control in the front garden and poking
through some of the brickwork on the house itself, it looks like some of the
roof tiles are missing and Ed’s foot goes straight through the first rotten
wooden step on his way up the porch.
Inside is not much better - a
thick layer of dust covers all the old furniture inside, as do a multitude of
spider webs, and weeds have actually began to grow inside the
house too… But the space is huge, there’s a ridiculous amount of rooms, and
there’s a giant kitchen at the back. There’s even a library! Though it’s
debatable how many of the books haven’t been destroyed by rot and damp.
After realising that the boys
are totally sold on the house (despite it being a wreck) Riza tries to warn
them that the reason the firm even got a house like this on their books in the
first place was because it passed through a number of different estate agents and homeowners and never stayed
sold. Anyone brave enough to take the place on put it back on the market shortly after. Any attempts to knock the house down resulted in the
machinery shutting down mysteriously. It’s said that owners of the house over
the years reported objects flying around rooms, their possessions going
missing and screams in the middle of the night.
Ed and Ling consider this,
but Ling raises his eyebrows and shrugs and Ed nods at him. “So just how
cheap is this place anyway?” He finally asks.