doesn't it all come down to the love of a woman

breaking the cycle: gotg2 and the theme of toxic masculinity

It’s taken me, oh, about a month to organize my thoughts on this and they’re still a mess, but I have all these snippets in my head about how GOTG2 deconstructs toxic masculinity, and hey! you’re gonna get them now

Toxic masculinity is basically the concept that socializing men and boys to be a certain ‘masculine’ way, and criticizing them or ridiculing them when they fail to live up to these (often impossible or even abusive) standards, is ultimately harmful to everyone, men and women alike. Ever wonder why you flinch at dudes yelling “man up!” to their crying young sons instead of comforting them? Yeah, that’s why.

Anyway, regarding GOTG: a lot of this stuff revolves around Yondu and the Yondu-Peter relationship, but also (I totally love this) a large portion of it also revolves around a white, straight, able-bodied man who is quite literally called ‘Ego’. spoilers follow, naturally-

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Listen up folks...

I’m not gonna talk about what sparked this rant. It doesn’t matter. What does matter is what I’m about to say.

I’m freaking done with the hate.

This SPN Family is supposed to be encouraging, accepting, we’re supposed to at least try to get along. Apparently that’s too hard. Now I could rant for hours about how some people in the SPN Family are treating eachother, but that’s for another time. This rant is going to be about one thing, the hate that the wives of the two leaders of this SPN Family receive. For this post I’m going to focus on one of the wives in particular…Danneel Ackles.

Once again as the Ackles family was nice enough to share parts of their life with us, people decide to be douchebags. This time Jensen isn’t happy with his life because he isn’t smiling in the photo of him & JJ. Also apparently comparing his kids to the comedy & tragedy is just a terrible thing to do. Oh, did you also hear that the twins might not be his because he said “my” twins instead of “our” twins. This is all Danneel’s fault too because she makes Jensen hate his life.

She can’t do anything right in the eyes of some people and it’s pissing me off. What did she do to cause so much hate? Now is the part when I ramble on about all she’s done…

She told her husband to go to a convention for the fans a few days after giving birth to twins.

Jensen told the story about finding out about the twins…JJ gave him a letter about it when he arrived at the airport…meaning he couldn’t be at the doctor appoint. How many doctor appointments do you think he had to miss because of filming?

She uses her “celebrity” to bring awareness to different events and situations going on in the world. I didn’t know about the Yulin dog festival until she talked about it. She does different work for a variety of charities, freaking google it if you don’t believe it.

Her husband is in a different country for the majority of the year while she stays back home in Austin. Have you ever had your husband away for a long period of time? Cause I have. It sucks. I complained about it on social media ALL THE TIME, but she never does.

She was a working woman in Hollywood. IMDb that shit. She was a steady worker in Hollywood however she slowed down/stopped when they had JJ.

Think of all the times she’s been out with her husband, cause that’s what Jensen is, he’s not “omg Jensen Ackles TV star”, he’s Jensen, the pain in the butt who forgot to take out the trash or forgot to grab the milk when he ran to the stores. Think about how many times she’s probably been out with him & had to deal with people coming up to talk to him. Now think about how many times this has happened & people have ignored her existence or used her as nothing more then a photo taker. Fans don’t mean too, but that shit probably happens more often then you think. I would get so sick of that.

Did I forget to mention how Jensen freaking lights up whenever someone brings up Danneel? CAUSE I WITNESSED IT IN PERSON A FEW WEEKS AGO & HE LEGIT LOOKS LIKE A TEENAGER IN LOVE WHEN SOMEONE TALKS ABOUT HER!

But no.

Apparently we’re supposed to hate her just cause.

Now is when the “haters” start to go, “you just like her because of who she’s married to.”

No haters.

No.

I knew about Danneel before I knew about Jensen. I know Danneel from One Tree Hill but I started to admire her when she hosted Maxim’s Hot 100 in 2009. She was the really pretty model/actress that I looked up to because she was funny & pretty. It wasn’t until I started watching Supernatural in 2015 that I had the “holy cow they’re married to each other” moment.

So.

To sum up this rant; you don’t have to like Danneel, just don’t be a dick. If you admire Jensen as a human, don’t disrespect his wife or his family.

Basically if you wouldn’t go up to a person & say it to their face, don’t say it. Plus why bother wasting your time hating something when you could spend your time on something you love?

End rant.

I’m almost too lazy to make this post because God it’s just so self explanatory but my loyalty to Temari runs too deep so here goes: 

They did exactly what I called they were gonna do and made her an over aggressive nagging house wive. This is why I complained over and over again three years ago when I saw they had moved her to Konoha because I KNEW someway somehow they were going to subject her character to this. They want her to be Yoshino 2.0 even though that’s NEVER been who she is because “lmao get it Shikamaru is just like his dad! Parallels!!”. They don’t take the time to think about how her character would actually react because none of that matters now - she exists solely to be Shikamaru’s wife. 

Some people are crying “abuse!” at what she did but I don’t really want to go there tbh. It’s very clear that in the Naruto universe things we find abusive are just par for the course. Calling out Temari in this instance would require we call out basically ever other female character which is not realistic. Domestic violence in Naruto is always played for laughs which is obviously fucked up but not something I think it’s fair to fault the characters for as we’re not intended to see it as abusive (even though realistically it is). No, what I really take issue with is the fact that being an overbearing and strict mother/wife is basically all Temari is given to do. 

This woman was born in one of the most fucked up situations of any character we see. He father was a walking human disaster, her mother was dead, and her youngest brother had a nasty habit of slaughtering anyone who looked at him the wrong way. She has always been strong and confident but throughout the series she softens considerably as she learns caring is not a weakness. She is a better diplomat than either of her brothers and remains calm and collected in even the tensest of situations. Her dynamic with Shikamaru has always been one of mutual respect and understanding which is what makes their relationship work so well (and IMO better than any of the canon relationships we got). Yes, Temari is a take no shit kind of person who probably WOULD chastise her son for his pitiful behavior - but not in the way we’re shown. In Boruto her parenting method basically amounted to “I’m just going to hit you and intimidate you until you get the picture and ultimately just end up listening to your cooler nicer wiser dad.” She doesn’t actually say anything of significance to Shikadai at all - that is reserved entirely for Shikamaru as he’s the influential one in their sons life. Temari is just there to be the ol’ ball-and-chain ~what a drag~ mom whose only dominion is the house she is confined to. THEN there’s the fact that Temari refusing to make dinner inevitably meant neither Shikamaru nor Shikadai could eat - as if a grown man could not make his own dinner and HAD to have his wife do it because it’s her domestic ~duty~. This is extra and dramatic but it actually makes me sick that they’re doing this to her. After everything she went through she would have something worthwhile to add to the conversation other than “bah you’re too easy on him I’m going to withhold meals to prove a point!!!”. She doesn’t treat her brothers like this and they’re consistently shown to value her opinion because her opinion is worth hearing. 

Temari played a crucial role in Suna politics prior to the end of the series. She sat on the council and came with Gaara to all the kage summits/meetings. She was one of the best kunoichi in the series just brimming with potential and strength and ferocity. During the war I began to get annoyed with how much they were making her revolve around Shikamaru’s character because after a certain point basically all her dialogue was in relation to him. That’s when I knew things were about to take a hard left turn for shits-ville and boy was I right. In chapter 700 ALL we see her doing is sitting in a house chastising her son and serving her brothers tea before they head out to a kage meeting without her. We don’t get any indication that she’s still affiliated with Suna, hell we don’t even get any indication that she’s still a ninja. In the boruto manga/movie she doesn’t interact with her siblings ONCE and is not with them in the pit with all the other Kage/advisors. I was happy to see she still had her fan but other than that I left highly unimpressed. Now in the anime she is ONCE AGAIN pictured in a house, serving people drinks and nagging away as if that’s all she’s good for anymore. I know it was played as a joke but that’s exactly what makes me so mad - her character has become nothing more than a trope meant to appeal to the lowest common denominator. The nagging housewive angle truly is the lowest hanging fruit but studio peirrot really could not resist could they.

Nevermind the fact that it would have been way funnier had they subverted the whole “why did you marry such a strict woman” thing by having Shikadai side with his mom instead, saying something to the effect of “why did you marry such an unmotivated slacker”. Can we stop treating Temari like she’s just an overly aggressive loaded gun that’s just one mistep away from going off. I mean I genuinely love Shikatema but I do not think the Boruto anime understands Shikatema. Part of me still wishes they just hadn’t got together because they don’t actually feel like “them” when they’re portrayed like this. No one is being respected as a character. 

Anyway all this to say I’m basically done with the Boruto anime now. I might still watch the next couple of episodes because curiosity is gonna get the better of me but emotionally I have severed all connections. It just comes down to the fact that I cannot handle them so grossly mischaracterizing characters that I have loved since I was 11 years old. I actually don’t mind the new gen when they’re on their own but every damn time they show one of the original characters they manage to fuck them up in some way. We see it with Temari, with Naruto, with Yamato, with Sakura. Hell I can’t stand Sasuke and even I’m mad about what they did to him post chapter 699. I am never going to like the new gen characters more than the original cast so if watching Boruto means seeing them get completely decimated then I’m not gonna watch it. Simple as that. Naruto being an absent father is the worst crime but I have no doubt they’ll continue to top that in future episodes. 

anonymous asked:

Hey Nikki, is it just me or does it seem like Touka, as a character, hasn't had a whole lot going on that doesn't revolve around Kaneki in :re? I was re-reading TG and found myself missing when she seemed to have a whole life outside of him (school, friends, family conflict, taking an active role in the territory, etc) which really made her feel unique for a female love interest. Am I wrong in feeling like almost all of her recent development has just been about Kaneki and nothing else?

(I hope that last ask didn’t come across as character hate- It’s not! I love Touka’s character and have just felt slightly dissatisfied with the road she’s been taken down lately, so I wanted to see if maybe I was just overlooking things.)

Hey! 

I can see where it seems like Touka’s sole purpose is to move Kaneki forward because– let’s face it– he’s the main character. But while a lot of the stuff she’s said recently can be applied to her involvement with him, that’s not necessarily always the case.

With the “virgin chat” and the sex scene so fresh, it’s a little difficult to keep in mind that several chapters beforehand included Touka’s fighting in Cochlea and talking with Amon and Akira. While she did speak vaguely and briefly of Kaneki at times, for the most part it was about letting go of grudges and trying to get others to see ghouls as people, too. 

Nobody else is as straight-forward as her. Nobody else has her breed of bravery or perspective on life. If you take into account all the other people in Goat right now, Touka was the only person capable of bridging the gap here. 

And speaking of that conversation, I loved this glimpse at what she truly thought of her father. Of course she still loves and misses Arata, but to hear her actually say he was stupid for letting the past eclipse his present was a huge step forward after all the pent-up hatred she felt towards investigators in the first series.

I know we’re accustomed to applying everything about Arata to Kaneki because they’re obviously meant to be similar, but this statement, from Touka’s perspective, was about how it affected HER. It was personal, and meant to show Akira that she could relate to excusing her father’s violence, but that you have to look at what they did realistically if you ever wanted to move past it.

Apart from all that, things about Touka’s current situation with work and family and friends are absolutely still present. Of course the fact that she can no longer attend college is upsetting, but it’s fitting for her present self to move past that, lest it weigh her down. 

Remember back when she snuck into Cocolea with the gasmask group? She wasn’t there to see Kaneki. She probably didn’t even know she’d run into him. That was entirely about saving Hinami despite her family also trying to keep her safely out of it, and it offered a window through which to see how she could still fight with the best of them, even before we saw her hold her own against Mutsuki. 

I could go on forever about all the other ways Touka has moved forward without Kaneki at the center-point of her actions (I mean, she ran her own business for four years before so much as bumping into Haise). But the important thing for us to do is consider that a woman can still be her own person regardless of romantic involvement. I think we’re so used to seeing in one way or another that this concept of Touka being both is a little difficult to take in.

So, overall, it’s a fine line between “she’s just there as the love interest” and “hey, it’s HER love interest, too”… but thankfully Ishida has made sure to let us know that Touka exists beyond Kaneki, while at the same time has the courage and freedom to express that she wants this relationship for herself, too

anonymous asked:

- [x] Prompt for Maggie feeling guilty about Alex being captured and tortured (cause she was the reason Kara left and Alex followed) and being distant; meaning like she sleeps on the couch so that she doesn't hurt Alex or anything

She should have kept her mouth shut.

She should have kept her mouth shut and let Alex’s nervous laughter, nervous “he doesn’t know what he’s talking about” be the last word on the subject.

She should have swallowed her frustration that her girlfriend’s sister destroyed the effort she’d put in, the energy she’d spent, the tears she’d fought against shedding, for seventeen hours.

Seventeen hours talking them down, seventeen hours playing the therapist no one had ever played for her, seventeen hours forcing herself to empathize – really, really empathize – with men who had their guns trained at the heads of defenseless people.

But they were at dinner, all together.

So it shouldn’t matter.

Her job wasn’t about ego. It shouldn’t be about ego. She should have let it go. She should have kept her damn mouth shut.

But she didn’t.

She didn’t, so now instead of Rick Malverne waiting futilely in that elevator, instead of Rick Malverne having to go home empty-handed – instead of Rick Malverne getting to kidnap and torture her girlfriend, this woman that she… this woman that she can’t live without – instead of all that, instead of making him wait another night, instead of, maybe, giving them all a chance to realize something was off, to realize that they were being stalked…

Now, Alex had been… 

Alex had nearly drowned. 

Alex had sliced her own damn arm open with her own damn credit card, and Alex had…

And it was all her fault. It was all her fault, because she couldn’t keep her damn mouth shut.

She couldn’t keep her mouth shut, and she got into it with Kara, and now?

Now, Alex swears she’s fine, and now, Alex swears she’s almost entirely healed, and now, Alex has told her that she loves her, that she wants to have all those firsts with her, she loves her, she loves her, she loves her…

But she shouldn’t.

She shouldn’t, because if she’d just kept her stupid mouth shut, maybe Alex wouldn’t have had to go through what she went through. 

Because Alex swears she’s fine, that it’s in the past, but J’onn knows better.

He’s keeping her on desk duty, and even though Alex rages and swears that desk duty is the worst possible thing for her recovery, Maggie is secretly grateful.

Secretly grateful, if for no other reason than – ironically – desk duty keeps Alex at the DEO later. More paperwork to sift through, and she’s so antsy that she’s slow at it.

Because there’s so much else she wants to be doing.

Like sleeping with Maggie. Both literally sleeping – cuddling and the like – and metaphorically sleeping – fucking and the like.

Alex wants all these things, and she’s making it very clear, but Maggie?

All she can see when she looks at the woman she loves more than she’s every loved anything or anyone is her body, floating, bubbles slipping out of her lips. 

All she can see when she looks at Alex is her own screaming guilt.

So she’s grateful that Alex is on desk duty. It’ll force her to let her body heal, and it brings her home later.

It brings her home later, and Maggie can pretend to be asleep on the couch.

Pretend, of course, because there’s no way in hell she will ever sleep again without knowing exactly where Alex is.

Because dammit, that was her fault, too. 

How could she have gone to the gym and blown off steam before downing a few shots of scotch and just falling asleep? Without hearing from Alex? Because sure, she was with Kara, but Alex usually checked in. How could she have…

Another thing that was her fault.

Another way that what Rick Malverne did was her fault.

And, maybe, too, if he hadn’t seen Alex with Maggie so much… maybe if he hadn’t seen the way Maggie looks at her, the way Maggie touches her hand when they’re walking down the street… maybe he wouldn’t have had quite so much rage about the whole situation.

Maybe he wouldn’t have tortured Alex quite so much.

So she pretends she’s asleep until she hears Alex come home. Pretends she’s asleep and fights not to sob when she hears Alex kick off her shoes and sigh at the sight of her girlfriend, and pull a blanket over her and adjust her head on the pillow.

She pretends so that she won’t have to ask how her day was. So she won’t have to look across the room, across the table, across the pillow, at this woman – this perfect damn woman – and see her dead, suffering, dying, a thousand ways over.

All her fault.

She pretends and she draws back and she doesn’t want to be distant – god, all she wants to do is feel Alex’s blood rushing through her veins, hear Alex’s heart beat steady and solid under her ear, all she wants to do is crush Alex’s lips with her own and… and… – but she has to be distant. She has to be.

Because she hurt Alex once.

God, god, god, she can’t hurt her again.

And the closer she is, the more she’ll hurt her.

As always.

It’s not until Kara shows up at the precinct, all baby blue collared shirt and beige pants, the next week at lunch time that Maggie realizes that maybe, by pulling away, she’s hurting Alex all the more.

“Detective,” Kara greets, the truce between them real, but the truce between them riddled with fragility and pain.

“Hey Kara,” she looks up from her desk – she’s got her own endless stack of paperwork to combat – and she grins lopsidedly. Cautiously. “Need a source on something?”

She gets up and she gestures Kara into the hallway and follows with increasingly sweaty palms, an increasingly racing heart.

“No, no, I’m not here about a story, I just…” Kara turns to face Maggie, and her jawline alone could kill. She crosses her arms over her chest, and Maggie fights not to do the same.

“You’ve been trying to be really strong for my sister. She tells me you’ve been packing her lunch every day, and I know you’ve been changing the dressings on her shoulder.”

“What are girlfriends for?” Maggie shrugs, eyes flitting across the hallway, still unable to shake the feeling that she’s being watched.

“Well, yes, but as far as I know, they’re also for sleeping together.”

“I – Kara, what – I – “

Kara adjusts her glasses and holds up a hand to stem Maggie’s stammering.

“Alex says you’ve been asleep on the couch before she gets home almost every night. That you’ve been taking care of her, but you’ve stopped really… building anything with her. Like a relationship. Like that whole firsts thing she keeps gushing about.”

Maggie blinks and Kara takes a deep breath.

“Is this because she told you she loves you? Are you pulling away because, what, you said it back but you don’t really mean it? Did you leap before you looked, Maggie, and now you don’t know how to tell her?”

Maggie flinches like she was punched by Supergirl, and Kara blinks at how rattled her stinging words made Maggie, by the tears rushing to her eyes.

Maggie’s nostrils flare slightly and she grabs Kara’s upper arm and pulls her into an interrogation room, shutting the door behind them.

“After all we went through together, Kara, I… I busted that bastard’s dad out of prison so we could keep her safe, I… I love her, Kara. I love your sister more than I love… myself, I…”

“Then why are you – “

“Because I can’t look at her, Kara! I can’t – “ Maggie’s voice squeaks and Kara lowers her arms in sudden compassion. Maggie puts her left hand under her lip as she starts to pace.

“It’s my fault, Kara, don’t you get it? My fault Malverne took her – the only reason she went into that damn elevator alone was because I yelled at you, because she was going to make things right with you, about me! And he saw us together, over and over and over, and you know that fed his fire, and she almost died, Kara. The only woman I’ve ever really been in love with almost died, because of me, because of my stupid – “

“Whoa, whoa, Maggie, hey. No. You know Alex doesn’t feel that way, right?”

“Of course she doesn’t feel that way, Kara, she’s too good! She’s too good for me, don’t you get it? Wait no, of course you get it, of course you do, because that’s what you’ve always thought, isn’t it? That your sister deserves someone better than some lowly, damaged cop?”

It’s Kara’s turn to look like Maggie hit her, and her own tears join Maggie’s in her eyes. When she speaks, her voice is soft, her voice is sad. Her voice is regretful.

“Maggie, I… I am so sorry that the way I’ve treated you made you think those… those terrible things. About yourself. I’m protective of Alex, I’m always going to be protective of her, but I… Maggie, if what happened to her is anyone’s fault, it’s mine. If I’d listened to you in the first place, we would have found her before that damn water even started to – “

“No, Kara, don’t – “

“See, but that’s what I mean. I blame myself, you blame yourself. Hell, Alex probably blames herself.”

Maggie scoffs. “Alex always blames herself.”

Kara smiles, and reaches out a hand to Maggie. She stares at it for a long moment before taking it.

“Exactly. The Danvers girls and the women we love… that’s what we do, isn’t it? Blame ourselves? But Maggie, what happened to Alex was not your fault. It wasn’t. I promise. And it… it’s okay. It’s okay to cry to her, to… to break down. It’s okay to need her. Because she was in that tank, sure, but Maggie, it was hard as hell being outside of it, too. And you would tell me the same thing. So maybe… I don’t know, I don’t really know a lot about this relationship stuff… but I know my sister. And I think I know you, at least a little. Enough. So maybe try… talking to her, instead of shutting her out. She needs you, Maggie. Especially right now. And I think you need her, too.”

There’s a long, long, long pause where brown eyes meet blue and their pulses – both thrumming for Alex Danvers – unite.

“Did you just say the women you and your sister love?”

“Oh god, I – “

“Tell me everything, Kid Danvers. On the way to bring Alex some lunch. Yeah?”

Kara beams as she pulls Maggie into a long, relief-filled hug. 

“Yeah.”

anonymous asked:

I always see "MC fearing of thunderstorms" blah blah blah..but what if MC doesn't fear thunderstorms, what if she actually enjoy it? Like there's a thunderstorm going on at 4AM and her s/o wakes up to MC sitting by the window just watching the thunderstorm silently RFA + v + saeran pls

aw I like this.

Zen:

*Awakened by a clap of thunder he sits up and sees your silhouette by the window

*He thinks you’re scared

*”Babe come back to bed ill protect you.”

*Surprised when you tell him you want to watch

*But MC why its just thunder

*You shush him and motion for him to come join you

*He brings a blanket and wraps you both in it

*Zen never thought to sit and watch a thunderstorm before

*But with you in his arms, it might not be so bad

*The two of you stay up until the storm is gone

*Zen has a new appreciation for thunderstorms

 Yoosung:

*He wakes up and sees you leaning into the window

*His voice is shaky as he tells you he will protect you

*”M-MC, what are you doing? Its going to be okay…I’ll-I’ll protect you!”

*Yoosung no

*When you tell him you just enjoy watching thunderstorms and that they don’t scare you he’s embarrassed 

*Oh.

*He’s still a bit frightened of thunder so he approaches you but stops halfway there

*You have to pull him over and hold this boy

*He relaxes in your arms and you two enjoy a nice night together, eventually going back to bed when the storm calmed down a little

*Yoosung isn’t afraid of thunder anymore

*Immersion therapy

Jaehee:

*Jaehee is very confused as to why you are awake at 4 in the morning

*”MC? Why aren’t you in bed? Is something the matter?”

*When you usher her over, she’s a little reluctant 

*After all, the poor woman rarely gets enough sleep as it is

*She can’t say no to your eager smile though and drags herself out of bed

*She’s a little grumpy, but soon relaxes after you wrap your arms around her

*You both sit on the windowsill, her head in your lap

*You stroke her hair as the two of you relax and watch the storm peacefully

*You start talking to her only to realize that she’s asleep

*So you sleep there as well.

*She calls in “sick” the next day ;)

Jumin:

*Immediately thinks something is wrong

*”MC? MC, are you okay? MC whats wrong?”

*Calm down Jumin

*He is so relieved when you say you just find thunderstorms fascinating and beautiful

*Drags you out to where the best view in his penthouse is

*Sits on the windowsill and brings you into his lap, wrapping his arms around your waist

*Long after you’ve fallen asleep, he is awake

*He just watches you, thinking about how amazing you are

*He is so thrilled that you love thunderstorms

*Because he does too (I head canon him as a guy who loves nature and finds it fascinating)

*It becomes a tradition for you to watch thunderstorms together

707:

*Sneaks behind you and wraps his arms around you

*Peppers you with kisses and teases you about being scared

*He won’t let it go, even when you tell him you just think thunder is pretty

*He does it just to annoy you

*He drags you outside and you two watch the storm from there

*After it gets too cold, he carries you back inside

*Pillow fort facing the window? Pillow fort facing the window.

*This fucker designs the most elaborate pillow fort you’ve ever seen

*Cuddles all night

V:

*Because he’s blind, all of his other senses are heightened, so he doesn’t sleep very well during thunderstorms because of the noise

*So when he wakes up and reaches for you to cuddle and doesn’t feel you, he gets a little worried

*”MC? Where are you?”

*When he hears your voice, he relaxes

*He knows that you’re safe and thats all that matters

*”What are you doing awake and out of bed at this time of night??”

*When you tell him you find thunderstorms beautiful and fascinating, he falls in love with you even more

*As if that was even possible!

*He climbs out of bed and buries his face in your neck

*He spends the night holding you and whispering all the things he loves about you

Saeran: 

*”MC what the fuck its 4am get back in bed.”

*When he’s ignored, he gets pissy

*”MC!! Don’t ignore me!”

*When you shush him and explain that you just want to watch the thunderstorm he rolls his eyes

*You’re so weird why would you want to watch a thunderstorm at 4am

*But not having many experiences with nature due to his childhood, his curiosity gets the better of him

*He reluctantly approaches you and watches

*He would never show it or admit it, but he’s a little scared of thunder

*His awe overpowers his fear though

*You have to pull him down with you, onto the floor so you can cuddle

*After a while, your backs start to hurt from being hunched over on the floor

*So you push the bed up against the window

*You two fall asleep in  tangle of limbs and blankets

*Saeran is always reminded of you when he hears thunder now 


A/N-I hope this was okay!! Thank you so much for requesting this. It was honestly so cute and fun to write!

once-uponacaptain  asked:

Not sure if you're still taking prompts, but if you are, how about 'finding the other wearing their clothes'?

The last thing he thought he’d be doing on a Tuesday evening when the sky opened up and let out a monster of a thunderstorm, was leaving the house and getting caught in the rain. And yet, here he is, wringing water out of his clothes in the bathroom sink to get them just dry enough that they won’t leave trails when he takes them to the laundry room downstairs.

He heaves out a heavy sigh but he can’t seem to get mad. Because every time he tries, he thinks of Emma Swan knocking on his door and pulling him down several flights of stairs to soak him to his toes. His best friend is a thunderstorm in herself.

There’s a knock at the door, and he hums in reply.

“I made apology coffee,” Emma calls out. He laughs, as though she has anything to apologise for. She could lead him anywhere and he’d follow willingly, as head over heels as he is about her.

“I’ll be right there, love.”

It takes him a few seconds to gather his clothes in the basket at the corner, to push his fingers through his hair several times and look in the mirror, giving himself a silent pep talk. It’s mostly new, the discovery of the severity of his feelings for Emma. He’s always known he was drawn to her, but there’s something else there, too – a need to never be separated, a sensation of care that extends well beyond the natural, and a word that starts with L that he doesn’t think he should ever utter out loud in her presence. Not now anyway. Someday, maybe.

He hears her humming from the kitchen and smiles to himself.

“Apology coffee and a musical performance? Aren’t I just the luckiest man in the world.” It’s easy for him to slip into a tone of levity, even easier when she teases him right back.

“Please,” she scoffs. “You’re going to have to make me coffee if you want to hear me sing.”

“I make you coffee every single weekend,” he replies, throwing in a pout for good measure.

Emma shrugs, her smirk taking away from her excuse of an apology. She turns around to pick up the mugs from the counter and that’s when he notices it, the deep red fabric that bunches around her arms where she’s pushed the too long sleeves to her elbows. It hangs loosely on her frame, the threads fraying, the small tear in the hem glaring at him in recognition.

He hasn’t seen this sweatshirt in years, had forgotten about it completely, in fact. And here it is, worn by the woman he would never, in his existence, want to forget.

She places the mugs on the table and hesitates when he stays frozen in place. He’s staring, he knows, but he can’t help it.

“I forgot to bring an extra sweater, I thought it would be okay if I borrowed one?” she explains, though it comes out more like a question. He opens his mouth but doesn’t get a word out. Emma’s fingers run along the hem, fidgeting. “I’ll just go put it back in your drawer, I’ll be fine in my shirt.”

He steps in front of her when she tries to pass by him, and shakes his head.

“No, no, I just– my brother gave me that sweatshirt. I simply haven’t seen it in a while, that’s all.”

“Shit, sorry, I should–,” she moves towards his room but he grabs her by the elbow and pulls her back in place.

“Swan, it’s perfectly fine. It even suits you,” he grins. And gods, does it ever. It brings out the gold of her hair and matches the red on her cheeks that’s always present during colder months. And it’s something else, to see her wrapped up in clothing that’s his. He’s pathetic in his longing for domesticity, for wanting it with Emma and Emma only. Unbidden, he imagines her in nothing but his sweatshirt, greeting him on a morning after with intimacy he should not be letting creep into his mind when she’s standing right in front of him.

He coughs, trying to cover it up.

She eyes him warily. “Are you sure?” He knows what she’s asking, Are you sure you want to trust me with this? As though she and Liam aren’t on the same standing in his mind, as though she isn’t deserving of being compared to his late brother. How she doesn’t see his heart beat straight out of his chest when she’s near, he’ll never know.

He gently runs a hand up and down her arm, and she visibly deflates at the gesture. He’s so close to her that he can count the creases on her forehead, knows they won’t leave her until the unnecessary guilt subsides.

“Positive,” he reassures.

And perhaps if he was privy to her thought process, he would expect her reaching up on her tiptoes and placing a soft kiss on his cheek. Instead, he stands there like a fool, stock still, as it happens.

“Thank you,” she practically whispers. She squeezes his hand once before stepping back. “Your coffee’s getting cold.”

He watches her walk to the table, damp curls hanging down her back, at home in a place that isn’t hers. Engulfed in an article of clothing that he associates with warmth and comfort. Completely and irrevocably making his heart pound. He lets out a gust of a breath. A thunderstorm in herself, indeed.

intimacy prompts

anonymous asked:

What if the missus is struggling as a new mum and Harry fails to notice but she doesn't say anything because he's busy working with the album and doesn't want to disturb him? (He does help but it's more so changing the nappy and bathing, you know?)

It’s Gemma that points out the missus’ struggles to him. Explaining everything that she’s been told over a cup of tea one afternoon, pushed into the sofa with her new baby niece on her chest, just the two of them in the living room as they allow the missus to have some time to herself upstairs to catch up on sleep or to relax in the bath with a delicious smelling bath-bomb and sweet candles surrounding her. The TV on mute and silently flashing scenes on the screen, Harry on his phone and replying to emails and texts to his team whilst his sister coddles the baby and gets in as many cuddles and taking as many photos as she can before she leaves and misses out on the opportunity to see her due to her holiday with Michal only a short few days away.

“Have you spoken to (YN)?”

“‘course I have. I married the woman. I live with her. I had a baby with her. I always speak to her,” Harry mumbles, eyes focused on the screen with his eyebrows furrowed, bouncing his knee up and down in anticipation as he awaited a text to come back in response to his album suggestion, “why?”

“Harry,” Gemma grunts with a strained voice, supporting the baby as she shuffles up and sits more comfortable, moving the baby into the crook of her arm, “Harry, will you put your bleedin’ phone down, please?”

“I’m in the middle of a conversation over the new album, Gem,” Harry sighs, flicking his eyes up to give his daughter a check, “what is it?”

“Harry, your wife is struggling,” she starts, watching his face contort into something that resembled confusion, “she can’t cope on her own. She needs you, okay? She needs help with the baby and she can’t do it on her own.”

“I do help her,” he retorts, locking his phone and sliding it onto the coffee table, shuffling along the sofa to perch beside his sister, reaching for the baby in her arms, “I help a lot, to be honest. I change her, I bottle-feed her at night whilst dinner’s cooking, I put her to bed as well and make sure she’s dry and comfortable, and I take the early morning feeds to let (YN) have a lie-in,” he mumbles, bringing his daughter to his body and letting her head rest where his elbow bent, her tiny figure laid along his forearm as his palm cupped her bum, “what else can I do? I don’t know what I can do.”

“Spend more time at home,” Gemma explains, dragging her fingers through Persephone’s thick hair, “I thought this is why you redecorated the downstairs den? So you could work from home?”

“It’s not necessarily writing,” Harry sighs, “it’s recording in the studios and getting everyone together to record the instruments and all the sounds. If I could get everyone here and build a make-shift studio in one of the bedrooms, I would. But, it’s too late,” he murmurs, “the album is pretty much almost finished. We just need to finalise everything and record a couple more songs.”

Gemma sighs, leaning down to pick up her bag, standing to her feet before pressing a kiss to his forehead. Sliding her feet into her shoes and downing the last remnants of her cold cup of tea before running her fingers through his hair.

“Give her a day off from being a mother. Send her to a spa or treat her to a delicious dinner date at home, with a good takeout and some of that pink lemonade she loves. Take on the night feedings and take days off to stay at home. You’re still, technically, on paternity leave. Use your days left to take your girls away on a trip away from London,” she explains, “you’ll figure everything out, Harry. Just, put them as your top priority. Your team and your management and Jeffrey will understand.”

He nods softly, mind wracking for ideas on what he could do, muttering a goodbye before he’s standing to his feet and following her out, holding his baby to his chest and sending her off with a smile and a promise to drop her and Michal off at the airport to save them from catching a taxi.  And when the door shuts, he’s cautiously rushing up the stairs, careful enough to not jostle the baby in his arms who had drifted off into a sleep only a short half an hour ago on her auntie’s chest.

He can smell the vanilla of the fresh new candles before he’s even in the bedroom. His lips curving into a smile when he hears her soft voice humming along to a tune he can’t quite work out because it’s echoing around the room she’s in. Water sloshing around her and catching his ears as his fingers pat at the little girls bum.

“Gorgeous?”

He pokes his head into the bathroom and sees her laid out in the tub, bubbles surrounding her, as she laid her head back. Eyes closed shut and lips pursed as she hummed along to the tune leaving her phone speakers.

“Are you awake?”

“M’very much awake, thank you,” she smiles, cracking an eye open, “where’s Gem?”

“She left,” Harry smiles, stepping further into the room and perching on the toilet seat, “I need to talk to you about something. And, I don’t want you to be mad at Gemma for telling me or annoyed that she couldn’t keep her big mouth shut,” he snickers, as the baby whines into his t-shirt and fists at the material, his arm tightening around her to pull her closer to him, “why didn’t you tell me you were struggling?”

“Struggling?”

He sighs heavily, “you know what I mean, love. Why didn’t you tell me? I’m your bleedin’ husband. I should know this stuff before my sister.”

“I just,” she pushes herself up, pulling her knees to her chest and wrapping her arms around her legs, “you’ve been so determined to get your album together perfectly that I felt like I would have been a burden to you. Like I was demanding you to be here with me and the baby rather than getting this done. I was doing okay, really. I think I was just having an off day when I spoke to Gemma and considered myself as struggling,” she explains, “I just, I didn’t want to pull you away from the album or worry you into thinking I couldn’t do anything and that I wasn’t fit to be a mo-”

“Don’t say it,” he warns her, “you’re wonderful at being a mother, okay? Don’t you dare criticise yourself. I won’t have it.”

“You’re mad, aren’t you?”

“Mad?” He scoffs, shaking his head with a smile, “I’m just glad you’ve told me how you feel. How me being so career focused is putting a struggle on you. I should be here to look after you, and to look after our baby,” he admits, looking down at the tiny baby now finally snoozing in his arms, “I’m going to talk with Jeffrey and get them to give me more time because I need to spend time with you and Persephone. Family time. Starting with an early morning trip to the ferry port in Portsmouth because we’re going off to the Isle of Wight for the weekend. Maybe even the week.”

“We haven’t booked anywhere,” she giggles, “we can’t just rock up on the island and expect to get given some accommodation.”

“Of course we can. I’m Harry Styles. I have the power to do so,” he smirks playfully, leaning over as best as he could to give her a kiss to the forehead, “I’ll book something later on. When we’re in bed. A nice little cottage in the middle. Close to the beach but far from the chaos. Just us three. How does that sound?”

“It sounds perfect,” she whispers, “absolutely perfect.” xx

the-word-weaver-of-the-faeries  asked:

“let’s keep this between the two of us.” Azriel and Feyre?

“Let’s keep this between the two of us, okay?” Feyre mutters to Az as he slips, unobtrusively into her bedchamber and she jumps to her feet, hurrying to meet him. 

The shadowsinger just nods, ever dutiful to his High Lady’s every wish. 

“No-one saw you come up here, did they?” she can’t help herself asking anxiously, glancing over his shoulder as though expecting Rhys to burst through the door at any moment and catch them together. 

Azriel just gives her a flat look that implies he’s insulted she would even ask such a thing of him. Perks of being a super spy, she supposes. 

“Alright, I’m ready,” she says, holding out a hand in invitation. Azriel grips it tightly and they winnow into shadow and darkness. They emerge moments later onto the pleasantly warm Velaris streets, pleasantly bustling but not overly crowded, something neither of them would have appreciated. 

They set off together, Azriel quietly leading the way while Feyre follows, smiling and nodding at some of the people they pass who wave greetings to her. “Thanks so much for this, Az,” she puffs out, checking her bag to ensure she brought her purse with her. She doesn’t usually, typically relying on the convenient credit she has in most stores, but she doesn’t want Rhys to have any inclination of her purchase today. “You’re a lifesaver.” 

“It’s no trouble,” he says, leading them down into a quiet, shaded street and walking to the very end, a small store tucked into the corner. “I live to serve at the  High Lady’s pleasure.” She squints up at him, one eyebrow raised, and he smirks. “And entertaining as his last birthday was, I understand it’s not an experience you want to repeat.” 

“No,” Feyre groans, burying her face in a hand at the shame of it. She has many talents and she loves her mate dearly, as Azriel knows,  but gift buying has never been her strong-suit. And the bastard has a habit of finding exactly what she wants every single year without fail. Just once she wants to get him something absolutely perfect. Fortunately, she has a secret weapon in the form of Azriel. 

“Really though,” she grumbles, pushing into the shop after him, “Who’s allergic to strawberries?”  

“Rhys,” Azriel hums simply in that way that implies he knows everything in the world and that nothing could ever surprise him. 

Well, he had been surprised last year when Rhys had taken a large bite from one of the chocolates she had delightedly given him and then promptly started choking. The shadowsinger hadn’t been expecting that. Unfortunately neither had she. 

“And Keir,” he adds as an apparently innocent afterthought. 

Feyre blinks, startled, looking round at him. She supposes it’s not too odd, Keir and Rhys are related, even distantly. Still, “I suspect that comes from the list you have tucked away somewhere that details every known method of killing that bastard; not a concern for the steward’s meal choices?” She muses lightly. That tugs a small, dark smirk out of Az. 

Azriel leads her to the back of the shop then stops in front of one of the small, dusty glass-fronted cabinets to let her see what he’s picked out for her. She opens her mouth to point out that the display is stuffed full of items, she isn’t sure which one he means, but she stops when she sees it, her face lighting up in a smile. Hugging a rather startled Az she whispers, “It’s perfect.” And is relieved when he accepts the hug, smiling, patting her rather awkwardly on the shoulder to convey his acceptance of her gratitude. 

Once Feyre has made her purchase and had it carefully wrapped up by the owner, who seems friendly with Azriel, well, as friendly as anyone can be with him, the two wander back out onto the streets of Velaris. Feyre insists on dragging him into a nearby shop and pressing a large amount of fine differently coloured balls of wool into Az’s protesting hands and then further insists on taking him for a quiet cup of tea. 

She rarely spends time alone with the shadowsinger, he always seems to be out somewhere on some secret mission sometimes she doubts even Rhys knows about. That or closeted up in his room with Mor, enjoying the time he has with her. Usually she only has conversations with him like this when they all go to Rita’s and neither of them feel much like dancing for an hour or so. 

It’s nice, though. Azriel has a quiet, oddly calming presence, even with the shadows darting around him, whispering, always whispering. There’s a comfort to being around him, a sense of safety, and an odd feeling that she could tell him anything and he would simply nod and understand. As a result, Az is the one she’s gone to more times than she can count when she’s had a difficult decision about the court to make that she doesn’t want to put on her mate. He inevitably listens to all she has to say and offers a few quiet insights that help her make up her mind. She values his opinion, and his friendship, more highly than she thinks he’ll ever know. 

Not longer after they’ve sat down in a comfortable booth by the window, they’re both brought two teas and slices of cake that she hadn’t ordered, but that she suspects Azriel did, given that they’re both topped with liberal amounts of strawberries and that their arrival prompts a rare, mischievous smile to blossom across his lips. 

Feyre nibbles at her cake then decides now is as good a time as any to bring up what she wants to, as well as have her revenge for this little dig about the strawberries. Looking slyly at Az over the rim of her cup she says innocently, “I’m sorry to take you away from Mor, I know you just got back, you must have been wanting to spend some time with her.” 

Azriel just blinks at her, saying nothing, as he drops a lump of sugar into his tea. Then another. Then another. She’s discovered, from these little retreats they make to this place from time to time when they both need a little peace and quiet, that he takes an inordinate amount of sugar in his tea. He had confessed to her once, with a small smile, that it was his one and only weakness. 

Finally, carefully, too carefully, Azriel says, “I’ll have plenty of time to brief Mor, later.” Yes, brief her, amongst other things. 

“Mm,” Feyre muses, taking a small sip of tea, “Wouldn’t you rather have spent the morning with her than me?” 

Azriel blinks, apparently genuinely bemused by this comment, “You’re my friend, Feyre,” he says quietly, sincerely, “I like spending time with both of you.” Damn. She really should leave the subtlety and intrigue up to Az as well as the gift choosing. And he’s too earnest and good-natured, there’s no fun in teasing him at all. 

“Azriel,” she says quietly, a soft smile tugging at her lips, “I know.” He blinks owlishly up at her again, clearly implying you know what? And she just scowls at him because if she doesn’t get to tease him then she’s not playing games with him either. 

A deep flush of colour burns into Az’s cheeks as he stares at her, “How?” he rasps eventually and she smirks smugly at him. 

“You’re not the only one who can know other people’s secrets, Az,” she says with a grin, taking another pointed bite of the strawberry cake, which really isn’t half bad. She might have to bring Rhys here at some point, then she might have half a chance of finishing a dessert on her own without the High Lord’s spoon magically making its way over to her plate while he twitters about ‘mating bond equality’ and ‘what’s yours is mine, Feyre darling’. 

Azriel’s face darkens at that and a low, protective growl rumbles in his chest, “Who told you?” he demands, hands curling into fists. 

She starts in surprise at the sudden black venom in his voice and opens her mouth to say something when Azriel freezes, apparently realising how he’d reacted. The blush on his cheeks darkens and his wings twitch, clearly uncomfortable. “I’m sorry,” he murmurs quietly, and she has her suspicions that he and Mor haven’t been together for long confirmed, based on his response. 

“It’s alright, I understand,” she says quietly, and she does. That need to protect, to keep her safe must be heightened for the two of them after the amount of time they spent apart. She smiles, “And no-one told me, Az,” she huffs, a faint hint of playful scolding in her tone, “I can find some things out without the help of you and your spies, you know, I’m not blind.” 

“Says the woman who didn’t notice for nearly fifty years that her mate is allergic to strawberries,” Az mumbles into his tea, but she notes the playful spark in his eyes and resists the urge to kick him under the table with difficulty.

Instead she reaches over and takes his hand, “I’m happy for you, Azriel. For both of you. You deserve this,” she gives his hand a soft squeeze and finally manages to coax a faint smile from him.  “But why-” 

“Didn’t we tell anyone?” Azriel supplies for her. She supposes he has to find some way to claw back his composure, the best way he knows how, making sure he knows everything she does. Mostly. She nods. He shifts uncomfortably, wings rustling in agitation at his back as he shrugs. “We would have, when we were ready,” he says quietly. “We’re just…Not.” She’s never seen him so discomposed before, he’s usually the picture of articulate eloquence. But Mor…She does this to him. “Not yet, Feyre, please-” 

She gives his hand another quick squeeze, smiling, “I won’t breathe a word of it to anyone, Az, I promise.” He smiles, nodding his head, and thanks her. 

They finish their tea and cake and then Feyre winnows him to Mor’s townhouse before returning herself to the House of Wind to finish up her preparations for Rhys’ birthday. 

The next day, her mate is delighted by the delicate ornament of crystal Illyrian wings she gives him, after having spent all of the day before painting them, accenting the details until they’re a near perfect replica of her mate’s own. 

Feyre notes the way Azriel’s scarred, gentle hand slides around Mor’s waist, squeezing, drawing her in close, just for a moment while no-one else is watching….But misses the way Rhys raises his glass of wine in Azriel’s direction while she’s chatting to Mor, thanking his brother for picking out the gift. Az nods and smiles. The two of them are content to keep this particular secret between themselves for the rest of their long eternities. 

Comet is the only thing I care about if it doesn't win I'm gonna cry

Like. I can’t even explain it I’m too invested in this show. I’m going to infodump about it because I’m so sad that DEH might beat it out for the tony and it doesn’t even deserve to.

-While you are walking in it gives you a Cold War / modern Russia vibe. The walls of the imperial are covered in posters and I remember reading the word pussy a lot which made me happy.
- The guy at the merch stand was so sweet! No one else was there yet so I just was like “ are you open?” And he helped me pick a shirt ( the red shirt with the family tree/ prologue lyrics was his favorite and I bought it bc I love it too.)
- All the ushers were so nice! I was wearing a shirt that said “ so broke can’t pay attention” and a lot of them read it and told me it was funny.
- the usher for my actual seat talked to me about DEH and I told her I loved it but it annoyed me when everyone kept saying ’ oh yeah it has 9 tony noms’ and I was like “ well… comet has 12!” And she laughed and we Bonded™
- did I mention I was alone for like the first hour I was in the theatre because I ran in at 7 without my mom and sister. They wanted to eat their food and I was like “NO COMET”
- I was hungry because I’d skipped dinner?? The comet gods threw food at me.
- The girl who talked to our section was the best. Also I was the only person who read war and peace in my section which made me feel Important™
- Natasha’s “NO!” When Andrey tells her he’s going off to war and prologue starts
- the door!!!
- o Sonya
- private and intimate life gave me chills. Gelsey Bell gives me chills. She was so genuinely scared and I just wanted to run down there and hug her and tell her it would all be okay.
- an old woman was chose for bolkonsky’s lover and she was so happy it was so sweet
- “I KNOW THEYLL LIKE ME!” *pause* “EVERYONE HAS ALWAYS LIKED ME!”
- getting stools into those tables took a little while but it was the best thing I ever saw.
- no one else was so powerful. It’s one of my favorite songs that I’ve like, ever heard, and Denee rocked it. Honestly the little things I noticed from her I applied to my singing it ( it’s a song I’m working on in vocal) and it helped so much. God bless Denee Benton.
- The opera was AWESOME. Gelsey again as opera singer made me die. Her voice is so strong and good and perfect.
- stop touching dolokhov stop touching dolokhob Helene stop stop stop
- the whole “ where is dear Pierre” thing with Marya gently reminding Helene that she IS married to Pierre made me smile
- WHEN THE RIP TBE BLOOD OFF ANDREY I CRY
- Anatole get back behind that door you little shit
- you are not allowed to walk down stairs like that Anatole stop
-Helene please stop looking at your brother like that he’s your brother stop
- Natasha stop looking at him
- Anatole stop looking at her
- stop whispering in french Anatole you smooth fuck
- GIVE HER HER FLOWER BACK ANATOLE PUT IT BACK PUT IT BACK PUT IT BAAAAAAAAACK.
- you will NOT go to that ball Natasha u sit down and pick up a coloring book or something you literal child
-when Pierre says “ oh dear Andrey’s betrothed.” Anatole shakes his hand and goes “ ehhh ” like he’s saying not for long
- the entire scene before the duel hurts so much Pierre doesn’t understand except he does
- *shot comes from Fedyas gun* Pierre, with his arms out ready to die stays still for a few beats before doubling checking to make sure that he has indeed survived
- HELENE LOOKS SO PISSED AT HIM.
- dust and ashes is my anthem I have never related to anything so hard. Protect Pierre. Get him medical help. I want to see him loved.
-DENEE BENTON STRIPPING-ISH ON STAGE TO JUST A CORSET AND UNDERWEAR ( I’m sure she has a Leo under it)?? MY GAY LITTLE HEART DID NOT SURVIVE.
- Helene takes the necklace Andrey put around Natasha’s neck when he left. Nat looks distressed until it is replaced by pearls and she gets distracted by the shiny.
- the ball is so painful please Anatole no more
- when Anatole and Natasha stand together In front of 9 flood lights then the door closes? I die
- the door closing makes it final and I hate it I hate it I hate it I hate it I hate it I hate it I hate it
- Natasha’s costume change is great you can see how teeny Denee is
- Natasha gushing about how much she loves Anatole to the crowd makes me cry
- Pierre you gentle giant plz stop drinking
-that’s right Sonya. Roast her.
- Natasha no longer says “ he’s my master and I am his slave.” In the genius annotations of the off broadway cast Dave says that the line might change because he knows how it looks to have an African American woman sing that about a white man. He said it was up to Denee to decide what she was comfortable with, and in the show it wasn’t there. ( I’m glad Denee stopped saying something she wasn’t okay with)
-oh Sonya nothing is your fault you little gerbil please calm down and realize you aren’t responsible for Natasha
-THE PLAN FOR NATALIE ROSTOVAS ABDUCTION HAD ALL BEEN-
- balaga is such a fun song. I didn’t get egg shakers but everyone who did seemed to have a good time!
- during the abduction when Anatole says not yet and pauses, Lucas draws it out a ton. One of the people next to me tried shaking her egg to get it started up again and he just looked at us and said “ no.”
-Natasha is so excited to go with him I hate it. Also the violin is amazing as it always is in that show.
- yOU WILL NOT WNTER MYYY HOUSE S C O UN D R E L.
- Denee runs up to what looks like a sink (?) and you can see her miming taking arsenic.
-Pierres reality check kills me. He’s been telling himself he’s worthless nothing matters and he probably hasn’t gone outside in a long time, and then someone’s asking for him for his friend.
-what?? whAt? WHAT???
- Anatole sobbing in Helene’s lap is good and terrible at the same time. She strokes his hair, and it makes me die.
- DRAG HIM PIERRE. THREATEN THE BAD MAN.
- when Anatole leaves Pierre and him throw his bag around for a bit.
- Natasha very ill is so sad I cried then
-in Andrey and Pierre, Andrey is so tired. He’s holding the letters with anger, like he doesn’t want to touch them anymore. It makes me upset because only about 25 songs ago he clutched them to his heart.
- when Andrey says ’ never speak of that’ he holds Pierre up on his tip toes by his shirt. On “ again” he punches Pierre in the chest and runs down to his fathers throne. He sits there and the tension never leaves him as he grips the arms of the chair. Mary tries to fret over him, but he waves her away.
- Natasha and Pierre is the saddest song too. Natasha is so small in her room plain, baggy white nightgown and no shoes. The emotions in that song are so high. Natasha climbs up the stairs as Pierre starts the “ if I were not myself” part of the song, and hesitates with each kind thing he says.
- Pierre stops after “I” and I think he only continues because he sees that Natasha has heard him and that she tenses at the word.
- “UNABLE TO FIND THE SLEEVES.”
- the comet is a good prop I love the comet #gayiconthecomet
- the stage door was so amazing. All the actors were the sweetest. I’m super terrible at names so I apologize if I just call someone their character name.
-Paul Pinto came out and instead of saying “ I loved your performance and my friends did as well” I said “ my friends love you and told me to say hi” he looked a little hurt and said “oh, well tell your friends I said hi, I guess.” I have hurt the best man on this planet and I can never make it up
- I told the guy who plays dolokhov that he was amazing and I cried very hard and he said “ oh well that’s what we always want, isn’t it?”
- PEARL ( an ensemble member) SIGNS IN PURPLE. I ASKED HER WHY SHE SAID IT WAS BECAUSE SHE WANTED TO BE DIFFERENT SO I WOULD REMEMBER HER.
- josh came out even though he had somewhere to be. He went to the end of the line and worked his way up.
- josh has the kindest eyes, he could stab me and I would apologize for getting blood on his knife. He also has a baby face and a beanie. I love him.

There’s more, like a lot about the set so if you want to hear me infodump about comet please let me know kids

anonymous asked:

Can I request a headcannon where MC has a major crush on RFA+Saeran&V but had a past relationship which hurt them deeply, and feel like they would never be able to be happy, kinda like Seven. When they find out they love them back, MC panics, and doesn't want to believe it. They try so hard to not panic, but still have that tiny fear, which becomes huge that they dont love the MC. They probably need a lot of reassurance. I'm so sorry.. I had a rough month ;;

Oh, sweetie, I’m so sorry to read that, I hope you’re feeling better and if you feel like it, my chat is always open. Talk to me if you want to, okay?

So, I hope this brings you some comfort:

RFA + Saeran and V with a MC who’s afraid of love


Zen

  •  Come on, everybody in Korea must have a crush on Zen, you are not different
  • That’s what you’ve been telling yourself in order to convince that these feelings aren’t a big deal
  • Everytime he hugs you and tells you how cute you are, you feel like melting!
  •  Yes, it’s a very familiar sensation, as you already heard this from another rising star in the show business.
  • That fling with that singer ended as fast as it started, but he has fame, money and lots of people who idolize him, what do you have now?
  • So yeah, forget that heat growing all over your body when Zen confessed his love for you. You heard this before, you couldn’t handle being hurt again, no, not by him.
  • Zen didn’t expect that reaction from you. When he told you, he was waiting for a “Oh my God! I love you back!” and the most romantic kiss ever. Instead, he won a “I see…” and you walking away from his apartment.
  • He went after you, meeting you sitting in the emergency stairs and crying. “MC! What happened? Why are you crying?”
  • “Why did you do this to me, Zen? Couldn’t you keep this as a fan-idol relationship? Why did you have to tell me this?”
  • “Because I… couldn’t keep it to myself anymore. I love you, I… have been in love with you for a while now. And… I understand you don’t feel the same way, but…” you stared at him.
  • “Zen, I feel the same way! That’s the problem! Don’t you see?” he couldn’t see the problem, no. You sighed: “How am I not sure you won’t leave me as soon as you get really famous? Or worst, you’ll try to hide me from everybody? I can’t be a guilty pleasure, Zen! I wouldn’t be able to endure this again!”
  • Oh, now he knows what’s going on. Yeah, when he met you, he knew you were familiar, you dated that guy from the labor record he’s about to be hired. And he felt… angry and sad for you, like that guy broke his heart by breaking yours.
  • So he hugged you and hummed lullabies to you to calm you down. You knew you shouldn’t let him that close, but… could you resist him?
  •  You were scared and worried, and your love for him was flooding your heart. You wanted his love, but right now, what you really needed was his patience.
  • And he would be patient.

 

Yoosung

  • How could you not fall for him? He was caring, smart, sweet…
  • He’s so different from all the guys you’ve been dating so far. All of them so rude and selfish.
  • But maybe you deserved it? Well, so what have you done differently to deserve Yoosung? Nothing, right?
  • So you don’t deserve him. And worse: you’ve got so used to being hurt, what if you ended up hurting him? No…
  • That was the first thing you thought when he confessed his feelings for you.
  • He was a sweating nervous mess, yet he said it. And though he still had hop, he was pretty much waiting for a rejection.
  • But you didn’t really reject him, you just told him you needed to go and… ignored him for the rest of the week, which was even worse than a direct rejection.
  • He didn’t want to piss you off, but he needed an answer, even if was a “no” so he could at least try to move on… emphasis on try.
  • When you saw him waiting for you at your place’s door, you wanted to turn around and run, but your legs felt weaker. Something about his curious eyes staring at you pulled you towards him.
  • “I’m sorry, MC.” What? But you’ve been ignoring him, you should be the one to say this. See what I’m saying? You would definitely hurt him eventually.
  • “Don’t be sorry. You did nothing wrong. Well, except for falling for me.” “MC… why would you say something like this?”
  • “Because I’m so scared of hurting you, Yoosung. You don’t deserve being hurt like I did, you have no idea how awful it is, and I don’t want you to ever feel like this, especially because of me!”
  • “I’m pretty sure you didn’t deserve either, MC. I… I don’t know exactly what you’ve been through, but… I know you didn’t deserve it. And… if you know how it feels, then you won’t do to other people, right? To me… if you… you know, if you really like me…”
  • He hugged you timidly, but you could feel all his love and care for you. You two were so insecure, would it worth chasing this relationship?
  • Yes, it would. And he will definitely chase it.

Jaehee

  • Falling for her was a big surprise for you.
  •  You crushed and hid all the feelings you ever had for women before ever since that girl from school not only rejected you, as also dragged you out of the closet for everybody to know.
  • So you swore you would never fall for a woman before and… well, that didn’t work out, did it?
  • But when Jaehee told you she was in love with you, you… didn’t know how to respond.
  • Because it was new for you. You know, having reciprocated feelings for a woman?
  • And that was the problem! It was new! You didn’t know what to do, what if your inexperience made you really mess things up?
  • So, as much as you wanted to yell “I LOVE YOU BACK!” you kept serious and told her you two were better as friends.
  • And there was that part of her that agreed with you. It was better, she couldn’t risk losing you forever if a romantic relationship didn’t work out.
  • So she settled for this. You both settled.
  • But it was so uncomfortable, it wasn’t the same thing as before now that you knew you two felt the same way, and the only thing getting on the way of happiness was you and your fears.
  • She noticed you were distant, and when she couldn’t stand your cold treatment anymore, she confronted you: “You told nothing would change after I confessed, MC. But it did! Why? You think I’m going to attack you? Are you scared of me?” she didn’t want to come off angry, but she was desperate.
  • “Never, Jaehee! I’m scared of myself…” “What… what do you mean?” “I’m scared of not knowing how to deal with my feelings for you, they are so overwhelming, but… I’m scared because it’s all new to me, Jaehee.”
  • Now she’s the one feeling overwhelmed, you… feel the same as she does? All this time?
  • “I’m scared too. This is very new to me as well.” She says, hugging you.
  • Well, so maybe you could guide each other in this new journey?

Jumin

  • It took you a while to notice your admiration and needing to take care of him wasn’t a friendship thing.
  • You desired him with every inch of your body and soul. But he seemed so out of your league.
  • Yes, how somebody like him could ever look at you and see something other than a silly, innocent and cully person?
  • So when he confessed to you, showing an eloquence he never showed before, you legitimately thought this was a joke.
  • He had an odd sense of humor, but honestly, this was cruel. Playing with people’s feelings like this was beyond unacceptable, even for someone who struggled so much with feelings like him.
  • You were offended, you never expected something so cruel coming from him. Wasn’t he a gentleman? Wasn’t he trying to be more aware of people’s feelings?
  • So you told him to go away and only look for you when he has a proper apology. And he left, confused and… hurt?
  • He got a headache from how much he wondered about what he could possibly have done wrong. He was new to this, but… the magazines he read and the soap operas he watched gave him the feeling he was on the right track with this.
  • Maybe it was because you didn’t feel the same way as he did? But still, he knew you, you were gentle, sweet, you would reject him politely.
  • So disobeying you, he looked for you without a proper apology, he needed to know what he did wrong and how could he make it right in the future. Maybe not with you, but with someone who could make him feel a little like you do, if this was even possible.
  • “I’m sorry to bother you but I need an answer, MC.” “Oh, you need an answer? How pretentious of you, Jumin, seriously! I never expected you to disappoint me like this!”
  • “So tell me why. Why am I a disappointment? What have I done wrong to you?” “You really want to make me say it? Oh my God…” you were only getting madder, you two weren’t going nowhere with this.
  • “MC, I love you. Period. And although I don’t know what I did, I understand you don’t feel the same way and I apologize if I made you feel uncomfortable. I only wish good things to you, I would never hurt you on purpose.” Yes, that was right… he would never do this. So… this meant…
  • “I… feel the same way, Jumin. I… am the one who should apologize. I got so defensive thinking you were joking.” “Why would I ever joke about my love for you?” “Because… I never thought someone like you could seriously love someone like me.”
  • But he did, and looking for professional help for the love of his life was his first top priority now.

Saeyoung

  • How would you not fall for him? You loved all his sides.
  • The funny 707 and the deep Saeyoung, you loved in all of his facets, would they be bad or good.
  •  And knowing all his insecurities and depressive thoughts, you knew you couldn’t be an extra problem for him.
  • So when he told you how much he loved you, you knew he couldn’t be thinking straight, this was his fears getting the best of him.
  • So now it was your turn on pushing him away. You told him you were flattered, but you two were better as friends.
  • He was waiting exactly for this, but he didn’t regret getting this off his chest. At least now he could live in peace with this knowing he tried, he wouldn’t be wondering what could have happened if he never told you anything.
  • But he missed you… he missed you so much!
  • He missed your conversations over the phone, your laugh, your honesty… he needed to talk to you gain.
  • He hesitated a lot, you already said no, why was he insisting? Call it crazy, but it was almost like God was telling him this wasn’t over.
  • And there he was, standing at your door with the RoboCat. “Meow~ God Seven is with the person he likes!” the cat said.
  • “That’s right, RoboCat.” “Saeyoung, I…” “~God Seven already knows your answer, but he misses you, meow. Can’t you two be friends?”
  • “I’m afraid not, RoboCat, I… regardless of what I feel, I can’t be another problem on Go… Saeyoung’s life.”
  • “What do you mean with ‘regardless of what you feel’?” he asked, not RoboCat. “Do you… like me back, MC?”
  •  “~Meow, I sense love from both ways here.” “Yes, but…” there was no but, not for him, so he went to hug you.
  • Although you didn’t say much, he knew exactly what you were feeling and why you were holding back. He would show you that there was no need to.

 

Saeran

  • Oh my god, how did that happen?
  • He was relying on you to help him with therapy and you were having these romantic fantasies about him? How stupid of you!
  • And selfish! He counted on you, and you daydreaming about something he would probably never be able to correspond?
  • But then… he confessed. And nothing made sense anymore.
  • No, he was confused, he was projecting in you, right? He couldn’t actually be in love with you or with anyone else, for that matter.
  • So, painfully you backed away. It was for his own good.
  • Saeran wasn’t angry, but he was sad. Was he really reading the signs that wrong? He knew he wasn’t the best at this, but… weren’t you being very clear how much you cherished him?
  • He thought he was allowed to feel the same, but… he wasn’t? Why? And even if that was the case, why would you back away like this? This wasn’t like you!
  • No, you were sweet and even if you didn’t love him, you cared for him, you wouldn’t abandon him like this, never!
  • He needed to know exactly what was going on, so he convinced his brother to look for you.
  • But he didn’t ask his brother to call you and tell you Saeran was missing you. No, he didn’t want you to feel pity or obligated to come and see him.
  • But as soon as you did, he realized how much he was missing you. And you definitely missed him too…
  • “What happened to you?” he asked, he didn’t want to sound hurt, but maybe he was and that’s how it came off. “I’m… I’m sorry for being weird, MC. I didn’t want to scare you and I really thought I was doing the right thing…”
  • “Saeran, there’s nothing wrong with you, I… I think I’m the problem here. Because I love you so much and that’s a problem because that’s not what you need from me!” “Let me the judge on that.” He said, pulling you for a hug.
  • Yes, you definitely needed each other’s love.

V

  • He was everything you could want in a person.
  • He was intelligent, sweet, caring, he was… perfect!
  • Your therapist talked about this tendency of yours. Falling for men who seem out of reach so you could be rejected and sink in your low self esteem all over again.
  • Were you doing this again? Because it felt a little different… well, it felt different the other times too…
  • So when he confessed to you, you weren’t sure how to react. You were being corresponded for the first time.
  • This amazing guy loves you back, yes, that’s the problem, he’s too amazing for you, he would notice pretty fast that there was nothing fascinating about you…
  • So why even bother trying to start something that is destined to end up bad. With you hurt for not being able to match him?
  • You told him you needed some time to think, and of course he didn’t oppose, he would give you all the time you needed!
  •  But it’s been a while, actually, really long, he didn’t hear from you. He felt a weird vibe coming from you, but he thought you were just shy.
  • He didn’t want to pressure you, but… he wanted to know if he could have hope or if he should try to let you go.
  • So he asked to talk to you alone when you two meet at a RFA gathering.  You didn’t want to, but you had, you let him hanging on for too much time.
  • “MC, I don’t mean to pressure you or anything, but it’s been a while since I opened up my heart to you, and I…” “V, I like you so much! You have no idea!, but…”
  • “But?” “I’m so afraid of how much it will hurt when you realize I’m not good enough for you…”
  • “MC, This will never happen. I can guarantee you with all my love for you.” He hugged you and kept saying sweet things to you until the RFA realized you two wouldn’t be coming out and they should leave.
  • You would definitely have to go back to therapy, and he would always be there to support you.

anonymous asked:

Please explain why Lexa is a bottom? Honestly just don't see it haha

oh sweetheart how do you not see it, i mean look

Originally posted by criskomtrikru

Lexa knelt for Clarke, without being asked, not for appearances or allegiances, just for Clarke’s sake. that shit right there? bottom action af. 

Originally posted by hedal-exa

this right here? heda af, i can see how you’d mistake her for a top, but….

Originally posted by queercandle

…this???? her entire body language just screams bottom to me. that doesn’t take away from her being Heda and Commander, anything but - in my opinion, her being in such a position of power, and harsh power at that, only makes it more logical and rational that in her personal life, especially with something as exposing and intimate as sex, she’d be less in control. being Heda wasn’t a position she aspired to, it was something that was thrust at her, and she did rise to the occasion and beyond it. the way i see it, and the way it does appear in the canon, Lexa and Heda are two separate identities - Heda is who she is expected to be, the character she plays when she puts on the Helm of Awe and her sash and her war paint, and Lexa….Lexa is who she is. a young girl, unsure entirely of what she wants and what she can have with her difficult life situation, a girl who enjoys body glitter and night dresses and who cries when pretty girls kiss her, and a bottom (and a sub, too, but that’s another part that i won’t discuss here)

also, just in the Clexa dynamic, it fits. to me Clarke’s pretty obviously a top - it’s easy to see that she’d be wanting to have more of the control during sex, that she’d find pleasure in having Lexa completely surrendered to her, having her all spread out and maybe pinned down beneath her. i don’t see Lexa enjoying having Clarke surrendered to her; she conquers and forces people to surrender in her ‘day job’, when it’s time to relax i doubt she’d want to be reminded even a little of what she does otherwise, let alone doing anything like pinning down the woman she loves. it’s just not in her nature to be this ‘harsh rough top’ that parts of the fandom like to write her as, but then again this is my opinion and they’re entitled to theirs - in the end, it’s a matter of perspective. 

Originally posted by alyciaismywife

but for more proof……..she tilts her head to allow Clarke easier access to her mouth. she’s leaning backwards, Clarke’s pushing forward, pushing her towards the bed - and Lexa lets her, because, deep down, she’s the bottomest bottom to ever bottom. she wants to worship Clarke, that much is obvious whether you think she’s a bottom or top, but, really….it’s easiest to worship a queen by offering your face to her as her throne, and, well…if Lexa’s on the bed and Clarke’s riding her face, it’s pretty obvious which one of the two is the bottom, don’t you think?

(in case it wasn’t clear, it’s Lexa. she’s a bottom.)

anonymous asked:

I wish you would write a fic where Bernie doesn't go to to Kiev but she pulls the breaks on her relationship with Serena, thinking Serena doesn't really know what she wants. Things get tense and then Robbie comes back. (Whether Serena sleeps with him or not would be up to you.) And when Serena tells him there's someone else... Bernie overhears it.

Bernie doesn’t go to Ukraine, in the end.  Gets as far as her car, rests her head against the steering wheel and calls herself a coward, gets back out and practically runs to Hanssen’s office to tell him she’s changed her mind.  He asks her if she’s sure, reminds her again what an excellent opportunity this would be, how well it would suit her.  She thinks of Serena and tells him that yes, she is.

Keep reading

zaturnz-barz-deactivated2017071  asked:

Have you seen the Boondocks episode about R. Kelly. The issue with Gal Gadot is a lot like that! There's a lot of racism in the world and the US is still plagued by that kind of shit everyday, but being Jewish doesn't make her support of genocidal and imperialistic institutions tolerable.

Alright, sunshine, I’m going to copy and paste something that I’ve already written for you, since apparently you don’t get it.

Why do antisemites like you hate Gal Gadot? Let’s have some greater context here, because this all started when Gadot came up with this quote that was deemed so offensive:

So, okay, we’ll break it down together. Really analyse it. Work out where the people like you that hate Gal Gadot have found their ammunition.

“I am sending my love and prayers to my fellow Israeli citizens.”

She sent love and prayers to “Israeli citizens.” Not politicians, not “Israeli Jews,” but all ordinary people who are Israeli and live in Israel. All of the Israeli citizens. Did you know that 20.8% of Israel’s population are Arabs, and another 4.4% are non-Arab Christians, Baha’i and other non-Jews? You do now! And because Gadot is talking to “fellow Israeli citizens,” she’s talking to them, too! Amazing!

“Especially to all the boys and girls who are risking their lives protecting my country against the horrific acts conducted by Hamas […]”

Here’s her extra love to the IDF soldiers. But there’s a catch: she specifically says that she was sending “love and prayers” to the people protecting Israel against Hamas. Hamas, the terrorist organisation that wants to murder all Jews. (It says that, quite clearly, in their Covenant.) There’s no mention of Palestinians. No mention of the West Bank or Gaza Strip. No mention of “one people is better than another.” No demonisation of Palestinians. No claim that all Palestinians are evil or terrorists. All that she says is that Hamas are bad, nothing else.

“[…] who are hiding like cowards behind women and children […]”

She claims that Hamas use human shields. Is that true? Well, yes it is. Even the UN has admitted that Hamas has used their schools in Gaza to store their weapons – which is a direct example of using children as human shields. So, she’s not wrong.

“We shall overcome!”

Since this post has been about Hamas, she’s saying, essentially, that Israel shall overcome Hamas’ horrific acts.

“Shabbat Shalom!”

The photo that she posted is clearly of her lighting the Shabbat candles with her daughter, as she’s Jewish.

“#weareright”

She believes that Israel is in the right against Hamas, as Hamas is what she’s talking about.

“#freegazafromhamas”

This is more proof of context. This is all about how much she despises Hamas, not Palestinians in general, with no mention of the West Bank at all.

“#stopterror”

Surely, this is a good thing. Terrorism is always bad.

“#coexistance [sic]

This is Gal Gadot’s only mention of general Palestinians in the quote above. “Coexistence” instead of terror. Again, a good thing. She doesn’t demonise Palestinians. She’s angry at Hamas.

“#loveidf”

This is her supporting the IDF in their duties. In context, it’s all about how she supports the IDF in their struggle against Hamas, and obviously how proud she is of their work against terrorism.

Broken down, it’s not an evil sentiment. It’s not a racist statement. It’s about supporting the IDF against Hamas – and everyone in their right mind, even the worst of antisemites, should be against Hamas for all of their evils. Pro-Palestinians should be against Hamas for what they’re doing to their own people.

The lie, as shown above, is then spun that because Gal Gadot was drafted, she must be a murderer.

Instead, during an interview talking about whether she was “too slim” to play Wonder Woman, she said:

“My mom is a gymnastics teacher. So growing up I was never sitting watching TV in the afternoons. I always played ball outside in the backyard. I was a dancer for 12 years. I did tennis, basketball, volleyball, dodgeball, you name it.” […] “[In the IDF] I was a gym trainer on one of the bases in Israel. So my boot camp was longer than other boot camps. It was four months and all about sports, waking up at 6:30 a.m. and going for a run, doing push-ups…

Ga Gadot never saw any action. She was stationed at a base, in Israel, as a “gym trainer.”

The reaction of hatred towards Gal Gadot is a perfect example of antisemitism that isn’t even thinly veiled as “anti-Zionism.”

From the facts, an Israeli woman drafted into her national army and ended up as a gym instructor, nothing else, then shows that she’s anti-Hamas, has been warped and manipulated into blatant lies and hatred.

But let’s get back to what you’ve actually said about Gadot’s “support of genocidal and imperialistic institutions.” 

Genocidal and imperalistic institutions, huh?

Well, let’s start with your “genocidal” lie. Even Ma’an, a news source that absolutely despises Israel and spreads libel literally all the time, has admitted that the Palestinian population has grown to eight times the size of was back in 1948. Israel sure does suck at “genocide,” considering this must be the only “genocide” in history that manages to have a population increase. It’s pretty sad for you that even antisemitic news outlets can’t even hold onto that lie forever, can they?

“Imperialistic.”

You mean like the “imperialism” of the Palestinian leadership that’s pushed to have the holiest sites in Judaism in Israel reclassed as “Islamic”? How it’s seen as an “act of aggression” for Jews to do nothing but pray at the Western Wall or visit the Temple Mount? The way that the Palestinian leadership celebrates every Jew murdered by terrorists and indoctrinates children towards terrorism and antisemitism? 

How is it “imperialistic” for Jews to have self-determination in our own homeland, exactly? 

I love how people like you come in, with absolutely no knowledge of what’s happened, to make snap judgements to hate us. Did you know, for example, that over half of Jews in Israel are Mizrahi? You know, Jews that were ethnically cleansed from Arab countries? Did you know that Israel houses about 43% of the world’s Jews, too? So, what, you want those Jews to… huh, live under Arab rule again, the same rule that has been massacring Jews for centuries and demonising us thanks to Islamic fundamentalism? Yeah? We’re just supposed to bow down to you and give in to actual oppression? Because no, thanks to actual oppression from pogroms, ethnic cleansing and the Holocaust, we’re not putting up with that any more. We’re not just going to lie down and die and then feel grateful when people like you can pretend to care when you cry over “dead Jew porn” like Schindler’s List and Holocaust-related films, then turn around and say, “Why can’t you just shut up and deal with antisemitism”?

You do realise that the Palestinian leadership and Palestinians themselves support Hitler, Nazism and terrorists that murder Jews, right?

What’s that? Oh, nothing, just a Palestinian Authority official at the unveiling of a monument celebrating a terrorist who murdered 15 Israelis.

What’s she proud of? Nothing much, just a terrorist that broke into a house to murder a 13 year old girl.

You want a link of a few examples that show how antisemitic Palestinians can be? Sure. Here you go.

All this, all of this, because Gal Gadot just wants her country and her people to be safe. Caring about your country doesn’t mean supporting everything that the government does.

But what, you’re from the US, I’m presuming?

You better not want your friends or family or anyone that you care about to be safe in the US, you genocial, racist, imperialism supporter. Unless you’ve forgotten about the Native Americans.

But, nah, I guess that doesn’t matter and that doesn’t count, because here you are attacking a Jew for not wanting her fellow citizens to die, and Jews don’t matter to the likes of you.

You, you antisemitic, sanctimonious and hypocritical piece of garbage, can show yourself out.

anonymous asked:

it always bothers me that after claire save marshali from the pirates, jamie doesn't give her any credit for being brave he just scolds or focuses on her wound. would love to see a missing scene where he thanks claire for taking care of his stepdaughter

Humble Pirate  (or some less terrible title)

Mod Bonnie says: 

Okay, lads and lasses: this falls fully into the category of CANON REWRITE. To refresh your memory on why anon (and I!!!!) get ragey about this: 


CANON says: 

Voyager, Chapter 54, Diana Gabaldon

[….]


FANFICTION SAYS… 

Do you honestly—” I choked out, absolutely, blisteringly, and woozily outraged, “—HONESTLY—think I went above decks in the middle of a sea-battle looking for—a THRILL?? A casual funtime adventure?!?” 

“I THINK—” he said, snarling between clenched teeth, “—you’re so heedless and cock-sure of yourself, woman, ye somehow thought ye could be of USE and—”

Cock-sure?” I gaped at him, hoping my face was contorted with exactly as much disgust as I felt. “Ohhh, that is RICH, coming from you, James Fraser.” 

“This isna about me, Sassenach—” 

I threw up my good hand. “Could have BLOODY fooled me!” 

“What this is ABOUT, is—” 

And ‘DO I KNOW that I came damn close to dying’?? Why, YES, Jamie, I had the *slightest* premonition of it, RIGHT around the same time as I was being chased and slashed at by a cutlass-wielding maniac.”

My voice was hoarse with screaming and ragged from waves of pain but NOT meek. I struggled halfway up, panting, and Jamie (who had the absolute gall to look exasperated) tried to force me back down. *Tried,* mind. “And as for ‘will I never do as I’m told’…” My head reeled with the excruciating effort of remaining upright, but I glared at him with all my strength. “…Lesson *bloody learned,* my infallible lord and master. I’ll just sit obediently in the corner with my hands in my lap next time and allow your daughter to be raped, *SHALL I*?” 

And that, at last, got his attention, for he went as white and still as death. 

It only threw gasoline on my fire. “And YOU coming in here all—looming over me all—and—banging your fucking fists—” I panted and spluttered. “Not bothering to ASK me what happened or WHY I might have chosen to put myself in danger—Just—shouting and threatening like I was no more to you than—And you—YOU—Oh, Jesus H. Roosevelt Christ, Jamie….” I was still spitting with indignation, but the pain was overwhelming most everything else, and I fell back onto the pillow as my vision began clouding over with black. “Did Marsali not TELL you what happened?” 

“No.” Quiet. Restrained. “She—She’s been so distraught for ye, she’s scarcely gotten more than ten words out…” 

I waited, blinking up from my pillow. I could smell the blood on him, still—gunpowder—the sweat of battle—fear.  

“Was the lass…” He didn’t meet my eye, but I could see the muscles of his face working as he tried to muster up the courage to ask it. “…being attacked?”

Lord, the pain in those five words—his memories of his own trauma and that of those he loved; his fears and insecurities as a father; the terror and concern and love and barely-contained drive for vengeance over what I’d implied could have happened to Marsali. 

I wanted to be angry at him still. Well, and I was, at that. I had every bloody right to scold him into next year—but I lowered my voice. 

“Marsali got frightened when the cannon-fire started, and she bolted. It’s easy to forget how young she really is, you know? She was too terrified to heed me calling her back. I had to chase after her—Couldn’t find her or hardly even see in the dark—and I was shouting for her, shouting, and I—I heard her scream and—” 

Jamie’s jaw clenched tight but he didn’t say a word, nor did he look up from the floor between his feet. 

“By the time I found her, one of the pirates—a huge brute—had come down into the hold, grabbed her, and had her clutched by the arm. She was doing her best to fight him off, but he was triple her size and—” I heaved a deep breath to keep the blackness at bay. “—And I just….I had to get her away from him…in any way I could.” 

He looked up at me, and his eyes were still and bared to his soul. He tried to say something, but gave up, that gaze imploring me.

“So I slashed at him—cut off his toe, I think, and that set off a rage in him, naturally, and—” I shrugged, “—I couldn’t think of anything except to let him chase me, so I ran as far away from Marsali as I could—barely could see two feet in front of me, just—ran—and—” I shuddered, violently, a latent panic attack, I remarked absently, as the remembered terror coursed through my body. “There was so much mayhem on deck, the only place that seemed safe was UP, somehow, and —I was—c-climbing the rigging—I thought surely with what I’d done to his foot, he couldn’t climb—but he could, and he was gain—gaining, and—If the bloody pe—pelican hadn’t knocked the bastard off balance…” 

Jamie reached for me, to comfort and soothe me—but then he faltered, and shrank back, ashamed. 

“Jamie…” Shaking, I reached for his hand, a peace offering. 

He accepted it and clasped my hand tight, gasping a little as he released the control he’d held over his emotions. “I’m…” He leaned over me to lay his forehead lightly on mine, to cradle my head in his hands. Looming, no longer: he offered me his warmth and his comfort; and, more importantly, his repentance

“I’m so verra sorry, mo chridhe,” he whispered, kissing my face and sniffing as he thumbed one of his own tears from my cheek. “Can ye forgive me?” 

I started to say, ‘of course,’ but he couldn’t seem to stop from blurting, “I was—I’ve been half-crazed wi’ fear that you’d die, Claire—” Jamie’s face was indeed wild, searching mine as though disbelieving, every sight and second. “Lord, I still am afraid that the wound—” He shook his head, his curls tickling my forehead. “But that’s no excuse for—for how I treated ye. And I’m sorry for it.”

“Well, no, it isn’t…” I ran my fingers back through his hair, still damp and dirty from the efforts of battle. “But thank you for saying it; and yes, I forgive you.” 

He made a little, soft sound—something between a sob and a sigh— and kissed me. 

“Perhaps next time…” My tone was light, loving, understanding, even if the message itself was difficult. “….you might start by assuming the best of my intentions, rather than the worst? One capable adult to another?” 

‘I promise.” Such gut-wrenching regret and shame. “I’m sorry I’m—such an arse. Ye deserve better…. I’ll be better.”

To his credit, he did not lower his eyes. They were looking right at me when all at once they brightened. “T’was verra brave and noble what ye did, for Marsali.” 

“’Noble’? I repeated, bewildered.

“Aye. Ye put yourself in such terrible danger, for a girl not even your own—Laoghaire’s daughter, of all people, who you’ve no great reason to love. Ye didna have to—” 

“For Heaven’s sake, Jamie, do you truly think so ill of me?” I felt the sparks of another bout of pain-addled indignation. “You think just because her mother happens to be a—” (raging, homicidal bitch) “—misery of a woman, I’d have left her to fend for herself?? To be—” 

“No, no, no, mo nighean donn,” he said at once, sitting up and showing a hint of laughter (perhaps at my careful epithet and perhaps the implied one, too), before his expression again went serious. “Jesus, never, I only meantjust—Ye risked your life for Marsali, and it….”

He squeezed my hand again; his voice was thick and cracked as he said, “…Thank you. Truly, I....Thank you. ” 

Not only for rescuing her, I thought, from the depth in that expression….

For accepting his life the way I’d found it; all of it, after a notably rocky start. For making the most of the challenging parts we could not change. For not letting petty things get in the way of the *new* life we had before us. 

I smiled and gripped his hand.  

Always, love.” 

anonymous asked:

Scenario in which Todoroki's s/o tells him that they want to break up w him bc they think he deserves so much better + endeavor doesn't even like them at all (lol) & they say it so bluntly and in a monotonous way as if it's the most obvious thing ever. EEK i love your writing btw! And ty in advance <3<3

“You’re here again?” The disdain was evident from Endeavor’s tone and you felt it crawl over your body, judging you as unworthy to even exist. You cast your eyes down.

“Yessir,” you mumbled, more to the floor than the large man in front of you.

Endeavor scoffed. “You understand that this is no more than Shouto’s rebelliousness, right?” When you didn’t answer, he continued as if you had. “He’s only spending time with you because he knows that it will anger me. He’s wasting him time with you; soon enough he’ll understand and allow me to pick him a proper woman, one that will give him strong children. You’ll never be good enough for him.” Endeavor smirked, watching you hunch into yourself. The faster he got you from his Shouto, the better.

“Father,” Todoroki’s voice was as cold as his ice as he grabbed your hand, pulling you against his shoulder. “We were just leaving.”

Before you or Endeavor could argue, Todoroki pulled you along through the house and out into the street, just barely taking the time to slide your shoes on.

The walk back to the UA dorms was relatively silent, you chewing on what Endeavor had said to you and Todoroki worriedly glancing at you every minute or so. He knew how damaging Endeavor could be, and he had no idea what the man had even said to you.

When you got back to the dorms, Todoroki stopped you before you entered. “Y/n,” he stroked your hair away from your face gently, “maybe we should stop going to my house for private dates. I don’t like the fact that my father’s there more often.”

Having private, stay home dates at the Todoroki household had originally been your idea; it was nice to have a place where the two of you could cuddle and get up to some of the more indecent activities without fear of one of your classmates, or worse, Aizawa coming in and catching you. But once Endeavor had found out about the dates from one of the housekeepers, the Hellflame Hero had made it a point to spend more time in his home, generally making your dates chaste. Now it seemed that Endeavor was upping his game.

You shook your head; in the time it had taken to walk home, you had mulled over what Endeavor had said to you, and you found it to be depressingly true. You couldn’t take it any more.

“I’m done, Shouto.” You blurted out, your voice strangely calm. Inside you felt frozen. You were certain that when you made it to your room you would break into a thousand pieces, but now you were holding it together for your now ex boyfriend.

“What?” Todoroki’s eyebrows creased. He was certain he misheard you.

“It’s over, Shouto.” You reiterated. “I can’t be with you.”

Todoroki barely caught the end of your sentence, the blood in his ears was roaring too loud. What had happened today? Why, all of a sudden, did you want to break up with him? What had his father said?

“Why?” Todoroki’s voice was quiet, strained. It was all he could do to keep it from cracking.

You had tears in the corners of your eyes; it looked like you wouldn’t be able to hold it together after all. You only hoped that none of your classmates would see this.

“Because you deserve better than me. You deserve someone with a strong quirk who won’t hold you back, who’ll be able to stand by your side. I’m not good enough for you.” Tears started streaking down your face, faster than you were able to wipe them away.

Todoroki’s face was thunderstruck. He was going to kill his father when he next saw him.

“Did my father tell you this?” He asked, his voice very steady, belying the rage he felt.

You nodded slightly. “Yeah, but I knew it before he said anything. I always knew you were too good for me.”

Todoroki was torn; on one hand, he wanted to go back to his father’s house and beat the man within an inch of his life, but on the other, more rational hand, he wanted to comfort you. The second part of him won and he drew you into a hug with little resistance.

“You’re wrong,” he said, quiet but fierce. “You’ve got it backwards. You’re too good for me.”

You sobbed softly into his shirt, wanting desperately for that to be true but not believing a word. You shook your head in disbelief.

“You shouldn’t listen to a thing my dad says,” Todoroki advised you quietly, rubbing circles on your back as you sniffled. “You know he’s an ass. I love you, and nothing he says can change that truth. So please,” he nearly begged you, tilting your face up by your chin to look him in the eyes. “Please don’t leave me.”

You hiccuped, too choked with emotion to respond properly, and nodded your head. Todoroki smiled gently at you and pressed his lips to yours, pointedly ignoring Kaminari and Mina in the window.

anonymous asked:

Sweet Jesus live action gaston is my life and im living for your gaston stories 😍😍😍 If it's no bother, can I make a request where gaston returns to the village injured and tried to hide his injury from the Reader because he doesn't want to seem weak, he wants her to see him as strong and someone who can protect her. But she realises she is injured and helps nurse him back to health? Thank youuu!

Pairing: Gaston x Reader
Fandom: Disney / Beauty and the Beast (2017)
Warnings: mentions of smut, but nothing too big.

A/N: so glad you’re enjoying the stories my love! This one is rather short, but I put some mentions of smut in it so I hope you still enjoy it <33

                                                         *****

“(Y/N)? I’m home,” Gaston closed the door behind him, trying to steady his breathing. The wound was deeper than he had thought it was, but he wouldn’t show that he was in pain. 

Not to you. 

Not to his wife.

Keep reading

anonymous asked:

I think jmo at the con last week gave a glimpse Into the recent wardrobe decisions. She said all Emma had when first coming to SB where a handful of clothes and now shops regularly in snow's closet/80's style thrift shops. plus she said Emma incorporates hair style from memories like the WishAu!. I think the no makeup is a JMO personal thing..IRL she doesn't wear much anymore either.

Thanks, Wardrobe!Anon, but then JMo is doing the character of Emma Swan a massive disservice because on TV, costumes send powerful messages about character. Emma’s foray into white lacey button-up high-collar shirts is coded as sexual repression– I’m pretty sure that’s not what’s intended. (Even the expression “buttoned-up” is shorthand for repressed.)

Originally posted by lumadreamland

And you get a button! And YOU get a button!

These kind of shirts are wildly impractical for sherrif-ing or savior-ing: they limit your arm movements, they don’t handle sweat well, the lace is scratchy, and the itty-bitty fastenings take ages to put off and on. Not to mention it would take Hook forever to unbutton her one-handed. They’re the type of shirts worn by women who DON’T have to swing broadswords down main street.

Originally posted by onceland

That’s more like it!

In fact, if you want your wardrobe to say “open to love” you put the character in soft silks and cotton and open v-necks– open necks are a sign of vulnerability. You know, like Emma wore in S1:

Originally posted by onceuponadaily

Originally posted by fyesthesavior

This is sexy and functional and very Emma

Coupled with Emma’s lack of makeup, these white starched high-collared shirts put her firmly in the “beginning” section of the Repressed Schoolmarm Who Has a Sexual Awakening trope. The only reason IN A ROMANCE for someone to have their hair pulled up that severely is for her lover to take it down; the only reason for a woman to have buttons up to her neck is for her lover to rip off said buttons later in a moment of passion. 

Originally posted by onceuponadaily

*bow chicka wow– wait*

But “The Ravishment of Emma Swan” is not what we’re seeing, is it? On the contrary, the show goes out of its way to avoid any confirmation of consummation and has Hook hang back from Emma’s repeated invitations to come in for Netflix and chilling. The overall effect is weirdly re-virginizing. WHY?

Originally posted by miloventimglia

Freulein, defy your father and refuse to join the convent– your feelings must compel you!

Originally posted by glorianasjane

How could I give my heart to a man so blind to the concept of honor? 

And now Hook has to win Emma’s father’s approval AND Emma’s approval and regain his honor. This is now the story of a disgraced knight fighting for redemption through Brave Deeds and the woman waiting for her love to come home. Nothing wrong with this trope. I’m fine with this trope. I’ve read some lovely books on this trope … but S1-3 Emma WAS the brave knight! You can’t pull a switcheroo like this on the audience and not expect them to notice.

Originally posted by onceuponadaily

When will he return? My lost, lost love!

It looks like I’m pouring salt all over CS, but I’m not– if you put Emma in her S1 wardrobe and keep the dialogue exactly the same the scenes in Emma’s house this season take on an ENTIRELY different feel. You lose the “virginal schoolmarm waiting for daddy’s approval” aspect completely. The tonal mismatch is all on the makeup and wardrobe– which are changing the reading of Emma’s entire character in a way I don’t think the show runners intended.

CONCLUSION: Someone take the costume choices away from JMo because she’s changing the entire feel of the CS romance unintentionally into something rather Victorian– and it doesn’t scan with the Emma Swan we signed up for.

anonymous asked:

Lily doesn't die. She manages to escape with Harry after James sacrifices himself. Her and Sirius become close after (angst, survivor guilt, angst).

There’s a hole in her heart where her husband used to live.

It’s not that James isn’t there anymore, that she doesn’t hold every precious scrap of memory close. It’s that he’s dead. Memory can’t hold a candle to the space he used to take up.

In her darker moments, Lily wonders if it was worth it. Loving him. This thickness in her throat every time she tries to speak, the heavy weight of gravity dragging at her bones when she walks, when she sits, when she lies in bed at night alone. Hating James Potter had been so easy, and everything about her life now seems impossible.

(Those are only moments, though. Fleeting, dark things that she banishes to the back of her mind. She holds her son close and presses her lips to the soft crown of his head and knows she would never give this up. Not for ease, not for joy, not for his father back and her heart whole).

“He’s growing up.”

It’s early summer and they’re in the yard, making the most of a capricious sun. She’d gotten another cat not long after that night, in some grief-hazed need for affection, and a dog just after Christmas. All three of the animals are involved in a complicated form of chase with Harry, who is shrieking with laughter on his toy broom that lifts a few feet higher off the ground than it really ought to thanks to her own spell work.

The sensible part of Lily knows that she can’t replace James with animals. The part of her that has been screaming since last Halloween and hasn’t stopped is grasping at whatever she can to make her broken family whole.

Lily glances sideways at Sirius. His feet are up on her outside table, rocking back in one of her deck chairs at a precarious angle. There’s a faint smile on his lips, twisted at the edges into something ugly, even on his face. He holds his body tense, twirling his wand idly in a way that says he’s ready to put a stop to the fun if it looks like Harry goes too high.

Lily’s own wand is strapped to her wrist. She doesn’t even shower without it, anymore.

“That happens,” she says cautiously. “The passage of time, you understand.”

His mouth pulls up into a grin that’s somehow worse than his expression before. It has too much teeth, crooked in the wrong places. Bitter, she thinks, and realises her own expression is mimicking it. Time is the enemy of both of them, dragging them further away from the man they love.

“I’ve been thinking.”

“That’s always dangerous.”

He snorts, focussed on Harry. Careful not to look at her in a way she knows is intentional, because she’s not an idiot. “Of going,” he says, and what’s left of her heart stops dead in her chest. “Away for a bit.”

Her voice sounds like a stranger’s. Screaming-Lily screams a little higher, in the silence left vacated by her heart beat. “I didn’t realise you had the burning urge for a vacation.”

There’s a poison in the words that she hasn’t pulled on him since they were fifteen and idiots. He winces, but still won’t look at her. “Not a vacation. Just some unfinished business.”

“You don’t have a job.”

“Lily.”

Sirius.” There’s a panic in her throat that’s shoving at all the residual grief, swamping it. She’s in no state to decide which she prefers as she starts from her own chair, kicks his legs from her table.

He yelps, wobbling for a second as gravity juggles him. It looks like he’s going to come down on the side of ground when her arm snaps out and grabs his hand, hauling him and the chair back to level ground.

She doesn’t let go. Energy sparks through her fingers and up her arm as he finally, reluctantly, looks up at her.

“Hunting Death Eaters won’t bring him back.”

Lily says it with the certainty of a woman who has considered it. Who has turned her wand over in her fingers again and again, mouthed all the spells she knows that could wring out revenge from the followers of the genocidal maniac who murdered her husband.

She’d held her son on those occasions, too. He needs a mother more than he needs vengeance, and she needs Sirius more than Lucius Malfoy’s head on a pike.

“Nothing,” Sirius growls, more dog than man in that moment, “brings him back. And I can’t - Lily I can’t just sit here playing happy families when it should be James–”

“Happy - fuck you very much, Sirius Black, if you think that any of what you’ve been doing could serve as some kind of replacement–”

I would never.” And it’s not a shout because Harry is still playing obliviously on the grass, but the way he hisses holds all the same intensity. She hasn’t let go of him, and they both watch the way her nails dig white-edged into his skin. Sirius grits his teeth, forces that grey-eyed gaze back to hers, and she can see in the shadows there the way he reins himself in. Packs up some unspeakable force of emotion, hides it away until he can speak in a measured tone of voice again. “I would never.”

Lily has never been an idiot, and the death of her husband hasn’t suddenly made her stupid when it comes to other men. Especially not this one, who has knitted himself into her life so thoroughly that she isn’t sure she could explain for herself all the ways they’re tangled together.

She should let go of his hand.

She should let go of his hand.

“Okay,” she says softly. “I know. I’m sorry.”

His jaw clenches. He doesn’t pull away. “You don’t have anything to apologise for.”

“I’ll thank you not to make my decisions for me,” she says primly, and it does exactly as intended, prompts the tiniest smile from him, not twisted in the slightest. “Sirius. Don’t leave us.”

It’s only after he agrees that she finds she can coax her fingers to let him go.

In Secret

“Killian, wake up.”

Killian groaned in protest. He took one look at the clock, and grumbled. It was too early… even for him. “Emma, we had a busy day yesterday, and I’m bloody exhausted. Can we at least wait until the sun comes up?”

They were getting married in a week, and the Charming’s were not only bogging him and Emma down with all sorts of wedding details… they were bickering amongst themselves every step of the way.

Not that he truly wanted to complain. He was marrying the love of his life, and agreed that everything needed to be perfect. Emma deserved no less.

“Do you want to get married or not?” she asked, clearly frustrated that he wasn’t moving fast enough.

“Of course I do,” he sighed, “but we aren’t meeting with the baker until noon. Please darling, let me rest.”

“I’ve been thinking…” she mused. Right in his ear. Bloody hell, the woman was not going to let him sleep. Ignoring his groan, she continued. “Why are we going crazy with my parents? We can get married now.”

“Your mother would kill us,” he reminded her. “She’s spent so much time on this-”

“Oh… we can have that wedding too,” she assured him. “I wouldn’t take that from my parents. But… it’s all kind of overwhelming, don’t you think?”

“What do you mean?” Curiosity now piqued, he sat up and looked at her.

“It’s great,” she said, “and I like the idea of a big, princess-y wedding… but I also like the idea of just you and me… exchanging our vows on the Jolly Roger…”

“Your parents-”

“-Had a secret wedding of their own,” she interrupted. “And they don’t have to know. It doesn’t even have to be official. Just… something you and I can share together… before we do the whole thing in front of the entire town.”

“So, why did you wake me now?” He asked. It was a great idea, but it was also two in the morning.

“Because we have an appointment with the baker at noon,” she said, “and the second the sun rises, my parents will be here, ready for breakfast and another day of wedding planning.”

He didn’t quite catch on until she hopped out of bed and made her way to the bathroom. She meant to do this now. “Emma, who’s going to marry us at this ungodly hour?”

“Lancelot is meeting us at the Jolly in an hour,” she giggled. “Unless you have any objections.”

“No objections at all, love,” he grinned. “But why didn’t you tell me sooner?”

“You were sleeping, I was thinking…” she shrugged. “And fortunately, I wasn’t the only one needing a midnight hot chocolate at Granny’s.”

“We have hot chocolate here…”

“I needed a walk, and so did Lancelot apparently. We got to talking, and now, you need to get up if you want to do this.” She gave him an adorable little smirk, “we can save time by showering together, Captain.”

He didn’t need to be told twice. In a flash, he was following her into the bathroom for a shower.

They wound up being late to their own secret wedding.