I just can't get behind living nests until she actually freaking apologizes to freaking feyre.
See, this is the exact thing that makes me love her even more. That she hasn’t apologised properly yet.
Bear with me here, Nonnie, because this is going to be a long one.
Nesta is not perfect. She has made mistakes and stupid/bad things. One very stupid thing would be letting her little sister, our beloved High Lady, provide for them all by herself and letting her carry that burden while at the same time being unsupportive. But a stupid/bad action does not equal a bad person.
When I was a kid my mama always put emphasis and made one thing very clear to me, as she was handing my ass to me, and that thing can be boiled down to this: “You did a stupid thing. You are not stupid, the thing was. You are smarter than this. Make it right and next time do better.”
In my opinion, Nesta knows she fucked up. She is a smart woman. But she is also a proud woman. Nesta telling Feyre that she went after her when Tamlin took Feyre, that she braved the woods and the unknown to find a sister she loves only to be stopped when she could not find her way through the wall, is a part of her making it better. Another thing is letting the Inner Circle use their house for meetings with the Mortal Queens, despite the danger it put her and Elain in. I don’t know if she’ll apologise to Feyre straight out, we’ll see. But I believe she will make it right, she loves her sister too much not to.
I also very much believe this situation is similar to the one with Rhysand in the hiatus between ACOTAR and ACOMAF. Many people wanted so badly to love him but couldn’t because he had not apologised to Feyre for the things he made her do Under the Mountain. I know, he did not do these things to Feyre for years and he was not someone Feyre are supposed to be able to rely on, her big sister. But for us fans it was similar, you like the character but you will not allow yourself to 100% go for it because they hurt our Feyre. From your ask it seems like an apology is what you are waiting for, that is the one thing standing in the way. Same as many felt with Rhys.
We got an entire book where Rhys got to redeem himself, show us his true self and explain his actions to Feyre. We have not had this opportunity with Nesta, yet. I think ACOTAR 3 will give us a lot more Nesta and I am freaking ecstatic about that. To understand her motivations beyond protecting Elain, see how she deals with being Made (into an Illyrian), how she will handle being around Cassian, how Rhys will communicate and talk to her as he is still very much thinking about how she treated Feyre, and that pisses him off, understandably. And I look forward, beyond words, to see her interactions with Mor and Amren. Gah! I am so excited!
Another reason for me to love Nesta’s character is the fact that she is almost Mor’s opposite. We need characters like Mor that are kind and warm and girl power and likeable, she overcame terrible circumstances and is still warm towards those she cares about. But we also need characters like Nesta. Women who go through bad things and deal with it by closing themselves off to those they cares about. We need this because women in our society are not allowed to just be one or a few things, we have to be everything. We have to be perfect.
We have to be good students, beautiful, dress well, be funny and cool, yet not too cool because a girl can’t possibly know if she is smart and hot because then she is obnoxious and cocky. We have to be good mothers, good sisters, good daughters. A woman is supposed to be sexy but not so much so she is slutty. Virgins are boring and too much work and pressure but if she has had sex she is a whore. We are supposed to be independent on our own but also not too independent because then we hate men and will become lonely cat ladies. We are not to tell men we want marriage and kids because then we seem desperate but at the same time the women who do not want kids are shamed for it. We are admired if we are strong, work out and know how to fight but then “oh god you work out so much aren’t you afraid you will get too many muscles and look like a man”? A woman has to be kind and emphatic but she also needs to be fierce and not care what anyone thinks. The list goes on.
What I am trying to say is that we can’t win. No matter what we do we are set up to fail because society puts so much pressure on women to be all these things, to an extent men does not have to live with. And so writing amazing characters, basically flawless, like Mor, I mean she has her struggles but we have yet to see a real flaw in Mor, can end up putting more pressure on young girls. But then SJM balance it out beautifully with Feyre and Nesta and Elain. These three sisters who are all incredible and admirable in their own ways but are also very much flawed, in a way that only male characters really get to be flawed. Because if a man has one redeeming quality, that is usually all it takes because we as a society ask so little of men compared to women.
So we have a almost flawless character like Mor who loves and befriends a flawed character like Feyre. Showing us that you do not have to be perfect to be loved by something good. To deserve good things.
To end this rant I would just like to say that I would love to see Nesta apologise to Feyre. But I will love her even if she doesn’t. I love her because she is interesting, I love her because she loves her sisters in her own way, I love her because SJM has written such a perfectly flawed female character that is still a good person and what that represents to young girls. I love her because, at the end of the day, Feyre does too.
Sometimes it hurt and he can ignore it. But other times it hurt too much and it became harder to ignore it—but he had to, because there were more important things. Things that could end with permanent consequences if he didn’t give it his all. Death-T, Duelist Kingdom, Dark Bakura, Marik’s Ghouls, and now Dartz and the Orichalcos. He had to shove them away, he had to hide it—bury it deep within him. Cover his pain with walls as hard and cold like the labyrinth in the Puzzle.
He had no time for distractions.
But he knew he couldn’t keep it in forever, he knew it would come back to haunt him. Burying something so deep for so long tended to end badly, to bite him back in the ass. He had witnessed it firsthand with Kaiba, a boy who had buried all his pain and insecurities to be strong for his brother—and later buried everything else to survive the upbringing he had with his foster father. It was like a seed, bury it and let it germinate. Let it grow, mature, and mutate into something he couldn’t control himself. Into an obsession he realized too late. For Kaiba, it was his obsession to be the strongest in Duel Monsters—a childhood dream that became corrupt. He lost his true cause for being strong, and ended up hurting the very reason he wanted to be strong for in the first place.
For him, it was his obsession to always win. No matter the cost, no matter the consequences. He should have seen it before, he had done it once in Duelist Kingdom. When Kaiba had threatened to kill himself if he won (and he would have won the duel if it weren’t for Yuugi, he would have killed Kaiba if it weren’t for Yuugi).Winning games was… winning duels was… winning was the only use he had.
He had used his powers and it only led to pain and fear. It had led to Death-T, for Kaiba wanted revenge after he had humiliated him in a shadow game. It led to Yuugi being absolutely terrified of him, a spirit who possessed his body without his knowledge and hurt people (he had burned one man alive and made Kaiba experience death, for gods’ sakes). It had led to Yuugi’s grandfather being taken, for Pegasus had discovered the Puzzle because of Death-T. His powers were useless, they didn’t help anybody, so he stopped using them.
All that was left then, was his skill in games.
And it stopped being useful when Yuugi was forcibly ripped from him. He closed his eyes at the memory, hands pushing him out of the way and the sinking feeling in his gut (and denial) as he saw his partner in the seal. It should have been him, it should have been him, it should have been him.
He let out a shaky breath. Sometimes it hurt and he could deal with it—but most of the time he was on the verge of breaking. He looked down at the endless black void in front of him. Once upon a time, he had taunted another Item wielder about the horrors of his labyrinth. He had stood before Shadi’s fingers, looking down at him as he dangled at the broken edge of the floor. He had smirked and mocked him, telling him if he fell then his soul would be doomed to be lost in the dark abyss.
He had laughed at Shadi’s fear (and it was no wonder Yuugi had feared him), wondered out loud if he should leave him to fall and rot.
(Gods, he was just like the spirit of the Ring)
If he didn’t exist, maybe life for everyone would be better. If it weren’t for him, his partner would still be here. Dartz wanted him, and was willing to hurt Yuugi’s friends, who were only high school students, to reach him. If it weren’t for his stupidity, his bull-headedness, his gods-be-damned fickle pride—then Yuugi Mutou would still be here in his rightful body. But he wasn’t.
Instead it was an ancient dead spirit with no memories, who was only useful in games and torture (and he was good at it, he remembered the time that he reveled in the screams of Ushio, Sozoji, and countless others before he found some semblance of sanity).
He tilted his head and leaned forward, teetering a little more towards the void. He marveled at the endless black, light seemingly stopping in the void. He remembered the cruel words he told Shadi and wondered.
If he fell… would he disappear?
This was his soul room, and the void was still part of his soul (and what did that say about him, to have a vast dark hole in a mental representation of his very essence?). At best, he would continuously fall until some external force stopped him. At worst, he would forever be lost within his own mind. A soulless soul, if that was possible. He would disappear into nothingness, fade away, and never be a bother to anyone else anymore.
That seemed nice.
Who would miss him? The people who truly knew him were (mostly) long dead, buried under the sand for thousands of years. He wouldn’t be surprised if some of them were displayed in a museum somewhere. Jounouchi? He would move on. Anzu? She would get over him, always her love for Yuugi would be stronger than the whatever-it-was she had for him (it was something he admired from her, because she truly loved Yuugi as a friend, sister, and—given time—something more). Honda? They weren’t that close, he wasn’t close with any of Yuugi’s friends. Not really. Ryou? He suspected that the white haired boy was a bit wary around him, perhaps reminding him of another ancient Egyptian spirit.
Yuugi? Yes, he would probably miss him. But he had friends, he had his family, and he had always been the stronger between them. He had lived most of his life without him, and he could do it again—especially now that he had more people who would care for him. What would he need from someone who was still insane? Who still felt a little pleasure in seeing the pain of duelists as they were defeated, who still felt tempted to call his power and bring forth terrifying illusions as retribution?
Who used that gods’ forsaken card despite knowing what it could do, what would Yuugi need from someone like that?
Yuugi was strong and he was weak. He couldn’t concentrate without the comforting presence of Yuugi’s soul, couldn’t summon up the will to fight without his words of encouragement.
It would be so easy to jump, or even just lean forward a bit more. Nobody needed him, nobody should want him, who would miss him?
“I would, my prince.”
He jerked at the voice and turned. Behind him was a tall man, garbed in dark violet robes and armor, and looking at him with sad blue eyes. He looked away.
“You shouldn’t, I treated you horribly,” he said, feeling bile in his throat as he remembered the callous way he treated all his monsters. Hadn’t he once told Pandora that he should treat his cards with respect and dignity? That they were more than just tools? What a self-righteous hypocrite he was. “I hurt you.”
“I will heal.”
“I hurt her,” he emphasized, remembering the betrayed look the man’s beloved student gave him as he forced her to sacrifice herself. “I promised—I goddamn promised her, and yet I-”
He deserved to lose… he did.
But Yuugi didn’t deserve to take that penalty, it should have been him.
“She will heal.”
“She shouldn’t have to!” he snarled, looking back at Dark Magician—his most loyal Duel Monster (and whywhywhy did he deserve such loyalty from a powerful and dignified being like him?). He remembered the pure hurt shining in those green eyes, glistening with tears threatening to pour out. And if he had been less prideful, less blind, then he would have listened to the tugs pulling in his heart. Because Dark Magician Girl was far more suited for happiness, not crying, and he should have made sure that—
(“Hey now, don’t cry,” he soothes the sobbing girl. “I sucked out all the poison, the snake won’t bother him. No more tears, okay?”)
“You shouldn’t have to either! What kind of… what kind of—I don’t know what I am to you!” he cried. “I don’t know what I was to you, but I sure as hell know I shouldn’t be hurting you!”
Shouldn’t make one of them cry (I’m so sorry).
He wasn’t clueless, he wasn’t stupid, he wouldn’t be half as good in games if he didn’t have the ability to connect the dots. Ishizu had shown them the tablet, and it had the Dark Magician carved on it. That spoke volumes in itself. He knew the spellcaster was connected to his forgotten past, and he suspected that they had been something. Friends perhaps (dare he hope, after what he did?). Dark Magician had always been far more alive in duels than what seemed expected from the holographic technology, even before Kaiba’s advanced duel disks. Smiling, wagging his finger, doing twirls with his staff before he attacked, and sometimes looking back at him worriedly when he thought he wasn’t paying attention.
And the duel with Pandora, that time where he activated an effect all on his own, standing in front of him so his life points wouldn’t go to zero. Monsters shouldn’t be able to do that, not without any indication from their duelists or the duel disks. Dark Magician was self-aware enough to act on his own volition.
He had appointed himself guardian of his soul room (and how did Duel Monsters get into his soul so easily?), often nudging Yuugi away from tablets and rooms when the teen felt like exploring. The one time Shadi tried to venture the labyrinth again in Duelist Kingdom, the Egyptian man nearly got disintegrated on the spot by an irate magician when he tried to touch the tablets. If it weren’t for Yuugi intervening, Shadi would have been a smear on the floor.
He knew him, he cared about him.
And look what he does to that person, he treated him as a mere tool.
Another person he hurt because of his pride, one who stood by him longer than anybody he knew. Despite that, despite committing the most damnable failure he’d ever committed, the man was still determined to protect him, even from himself.
“Why? Why do you go through such lengths to protect me?” he asked, wringing his hands. It baffled him. He was a powerful spirit, he could defend himself. He was dead and couldn’t remember his own name, there wasn’t much left to protect—body and mind. And if he thought about it, he only used Dark Magician as a soldier in battle. Even before the tribute summon rule in dueling, the spellcaster has gone through so many deaths it was a wonder he still had the energy to go through his typical sass. Why would he put up with that? “I don’t remember you, I don’t know you.”
He saw the quick flash of pain in the blue eyes, the raw hurt at that admission. So he had been right then, he and Dark Magician (and most likely Dark Magician Girl) knew each other, once upon a time. It must hurt, to see a loved one (maybe?) completely forget about you, to see them look at you with no recognition. He turned away, he had already been hurting Dark Magician without trying. By looking at him, not remembering him.
“Gods, I don’t deserve it, I don’t deserve you,” he said bitterly, laughing at himself. “I’m nothing, the only worth I seem to have is that I was pharaoh, and what good is that?”
Dark Magician flinched, as if physically struck by his words, but he plowed on regardless. Too engrossed at his thoughts to care, these feelings had been festering for a while now, and they were itching to burst.
“What good is a pharaoh who can’t even remember his own name? What good is a pharaoh who’s dead, whose body is a shriveled up corpse somewhere?” he laughed, shaking his head. “Hell, what good is a pharaoh in this day and age?”
He laughed again, like he had found a funny joke—and really, he did: it was called his life. He was an ancient spirit with amnesia, who possessed a Japanese teenage boy via a golden puzzle and was apparently Egyptian once upon a time. His talents were winning games, recently card games, and his skills consist of making people crazy. His life was a joke, his death was a joke.
“Your worth isn’t because of your title.”
“Oh? And what is it then?”
“It’s because you are you,” Dark Magician replied softly, walking closer to him and placing his (warm warm warm) hands on his shoulders. The spellcaster gently pulled him away from the edge. He didn’t fight back, didn’t shrug off the hands. It wasn’t the first time he thought about ending his un-life (un-death?) and looking at the dark void contemplatively, just the first time he had finally voiced his thoughts out loud. Always, Dark Magician was there to pull him away. “Do you think I would stay for thousands of years just because you were king?”
From the Egyptian people he had met before, it was obvious that they weren’t the sanest or most logical bunch. But he restrained himself from saying that. “Whoever I was before, I’m certainly not him now.”
Memories were the basis of personality after all, and he barely had any.
“You’d be surprised with how little you’ve changed,” the man refuted, wrapping his arms around his waist and dragging him down the floor. He flailed, surprised at the change of position. He was seated between the spellcaster’s legs, who placed himself in a cross-legged sit, not letting go of him. “You are still the intelligent and kind man I knew, one who always protects his friends.”
“I’m doing a horrible job at it,” he muttered, feeling awkward at being hugged. Nobody had ever given him soft and affectionate touches like this. He knew he was viewed as someone intimidating, untouchable and powerful. The closest he experienced was Jounouchi’s hug tackles and noogies. Most would give him a pat on the shoulder.
“You are doing the best you can with the limited resources you have,” Dark Magician corrected, removing his arms from the small spirit to take off his armor. First the pauldrons, then his helmet. He blinked, staring at the long violet hair that fell over the man’s shoulders. His hands twitched, wanting to comb through the locks and see if it was as silky as it looked.
Without the armor, Dark Magician looked less threatening. Softer, gentler.
(White robes, tan skin, long brown hair, and gray eyes shining with amusement)
He was pulled out of his musings when Dark Magician hugged him again, this time a little closer. With the armor out of the way, he could feel the man’s steady heartbeat. Could smell his comforting scent; lavender, incense, and other spices. He fidgeted, unsure on what to do in this (surprisingly comfortable) position.
“I forget that you are so human,” Dark Magician murmured, combing through his spikes. “That you are confused and unsure of yourself, that you hurt near constantly, that you need companionship as much as you need protection. I thought I have gone past that, seeing you as something infallible and god-like.”
“I’m not god-anything,” he protested. God forsaken, perhaps. But god-like? That was ridiculous, there was nothing godly about him.
“Once upon a time, I thought you were,” Dark Magician sighed, still stroking his hair. It was so calming, he cuddled a bit closer. Eyes drooping as he listened. “The person I was in the past would have been horrified with my actions now, would think it beneath his status, to be so casual with the king.”
“Statuses are stupid,” he mumbled, remembering the arrogant people he had encountered when he was freed. It was always status of something for them—wealth, beauty, popularity, and other silly things. “We both have the same color of blood, don’t we? Neither of us should be beneath or above each other.”
He felt rumbling from the other’s chest, and the arms around him tightened. “You truly haven’t changed—matured and grown perhaps, but what made you remarkable to me is still there.”
“There’s nothing remarkable with treating you horribly.”
“Your opponent manipulated you, used your self-doubt against you,” Dark Magician said. “Dartz has ten thousand years’ worth of experience to know what could break you, I’m sure he told his follower how.”
“I should have intervened, said something—the rules of the game never held strongly to me,” he continued. “I should have reassured you, instead of watching you doubt yourself more and more—what kind of friend am I? To do nothing while you were hurting?”
Friend, he called him a friend.
He sobbed brokenly, because he had met a lot of things related to his unknown past. Enemies like Dark Bakura and Pegasus, unfortunate slaves like the Ishtars, and tentative allies like Shadi. But never a friend, never any indication that he had bonds with anyone. Yes, the tablet was a symbol of friendship created by one of his high priests, but this was also the same person who had created the clan of grave keepers doomed to never see sunlight. He had a friend, a person he cared about and cared for him as well. He had a friend, and surely that meant he wasn’t that horrible of a person before, right?
“Oh, my prince, you were never horrible,” Dark Magician replied sadly. Had he said that out loud? “Forceful and prideful, but never cruel and cold-hearted. You shouldn’t believe the words of Raphael.”
“S'hard,” he sniffled, trying in vain to stop the tears. It was hard to ignore the duelist’s words when it was true. How could he be sure that he was a good person before? He had been cruel and cold-hearted the first months of being released, he had been horrible and terrifying. And when he thought he was getting better, becoming good, he reverted back to being a cruel spirit who loved seeing people lose. Just for the sake of winning a stupid card game. He had broken a promise, he had ignored Yuugi, he had treated all of his cards like crap. He had treated his friend like crap. “M'sorry, ’m so sorry.”
He wished he wasn’t hugged like this, he wished he was punched like how Jounouchi reacted. He wished there was disappointment and grief in those blue eyes, like in Anzu’s when she discovered the news. He wished the man would scream at him, like Rebecca had. He wished all of this was just one big nightmare and Yuugi was there, smiling at him and asking him to look at their deck again.
“M'so tired, Dark Magician,” he mumbled. “I wan’ t'sleep for a long time.”
And never wake up, was the unsaid thought.
He sighed as he felt fingers combing his hair again, he let his eyes slid close and his body relax into a boneless heap. Surrendering himself to the feeling of safety and comfort from the man (no matter how undeserving he was of having it).
“Then sleep,” Dark Magician said softly. “I will wake you up when it’s needed.”
are you writing for the sterek valentines meme? if yes please ♥ write me
Stiles zips up his bag and turns to give Derek a bracing smile, “You gonna miss
snorts from where he’s standing opposite Stiles, “You wish.”
yeah, I do! I earned you pining after my awesome friendship, dude. Remember our
first year? You wouldn’t make eye contact with anyone, and now,” Stiles waves
his hands around their small dorm room, “You got a whole host of pals.”
wouldn’t exactly call Boyd and Erica a host.”
in numbers, but big on the heart,” Stiles pats his own, wiggles his eyebrows.
“Did you ever think we’d get so deep at space camp?”
Derek smirks at him, picks up his own bag slowly, “All those nights you talked
my ear off about how this year’s gonna be your year with that Lydia Martin; so
up! It is gonna be my year, dude. I’m sixteen, now. I’m practically a man.”
a beat, and Derek’s small smile breaks into a grin, “Practically.”
Below is the next batch of fics currently being worked on, and after the cut is the updated Master List. Go forth, read sin!
pyschoticsexpot said: I would love an Enzo Amore Fic. his best protographer friend wants to shoot him
playgirlesque and its goes to smut real fast
A mix of two requests: ashleyh28: Angry Roman - you’ve been teasing him backstage
all night, Then he comes back all angry and worked up after slapping Jericho
around. You try teasing him more and he gets rough with you in his locker room
and everyone can hear; AND Anon: QUOTE SERIES: Please do a fic with Roman based on
him saying “You like that shit?” from Raw
Bliss where you’re tag team
partners and get pinned so she punishes you in the locker rooms
Uso one where you valet with
the Usos and tease him during a match so when you get back to your hotel room
you have rough sex
Anon: A Seth smut where after he wins his match
against Sami Zayn you guys celebrate in his hotel room
Ziggler where him and the
reader get in a fight and in the heat of it, either he yells that he loves her,
or the other way around and then it gets really quiet. And then that leads to
them having sex with a nice fluffy ending.
Anon: the oc wears
glasses but not in public due to insecurities, she uses contacts&she starts
dating AJ and one day, she loses her
contacts while travelling to a new city and basically AJ’s reaction to her
Neville and the reader are very annoyed with each other, but they realise
it’s because of the sexual tension and then the relieve the tension in the backstage
Anon: Jon Moxley?
You and him were together but you couldn’t trust him to be a one-woman man and
end things. He gets drunk and interrupts your date, almost beating the shit out
of the guy who did nothing wrong except touch your arm, and you end up letting
him sleep it off on your couch. Come morning when he’s sober, you two reconcile
Dawson is your boyfriend,
and he fucks you roughly in his locker room after him and Dash win the tag
titles once again?
x reader where the reader helps
Kalisto through his wife leaving him and realizes he loves the reader he wants
to show her how much so smut ensues
could you do a one-shot with Peter Parker, where you’re his fraternal/dizygotic twin, and when Tony comes to visit him, you’re there before Peter comes home from school and you’re jsut really sassy and funny and stuff and when he comes back you follow him and tony to his room (Because you already know he’s spider-man) and he’s all nervous and stuttery because of Tony and your just standing there like “Dude, this is THE Tony Stark, stop being an idiot” and Tony takes a liking to you because you’re so sassy
I’m so sorry, this took so long and I’m sorry for making you wait. But I found this request really interesting. Hope you guys enjoy!
“Brother!” you yelled, running loudly through
the hallway. “Where are you?” The pictures hanging on the walls rattled from
your loud voice. You thumped your feet loudly down the stairs, knowing that
that would piss off your brother. You hopped off the last three steps, crashing
noisily on your feet. You huffed, crossing your arms. Your science paper was
due in three days, and you needed your nerdy twin to ‘help’ you out. Meaning,
making Peter write most of your essay for you.
think that as a fandom, we agree that in the TV show Derek is basically the worst fighter. And I
often read explanation like “He was not raised to be an alpha, Laura was” and,
let me expose you to this delightful concept: baby Derek learning to fight.
Hale pack before the fire obviously lived in peaceful times, with a lot of
allies and not a lot of fighting (you will pry happy!Hales from my cold dead
hands). So you know, they only were this big family that had a weird love for the
forest after dark and threw huge picnic parties every month.
years and years after Laura and the first generation of cousins, came Derek.
want you to imagine the baby Derek with all the eyebrows, the big ears and the
I want you to imagine the baby werewolf
Derek, with only one fang on one side (the other didn’t drop for months), the
pointed ears and the tiny, tiny kitten claws.
now, imagine baby Derek, surrounded by grown up and cousins that are decades
older than him, and all of them play fight in the garden all the time. And
Derek wants to be a werewolf too.
he learns to wrestle.
of course they all play with him, because he’s adorable and so serious in
trying to learn fighting tricks, and sometimes he growls and they basically always let him win.
The. Fucking. Time.
Derek grows up, and the territory is still quiet and calm. Derek tries to look
tough, borrows Laura’s leather jacket and wears it every day, floating in it
and getting the sleeves stuck in every door.
he still loves books than humans, gets spooked by loud noises in the street and
he tries to save all the living things.
saved a praying mantis from a pigeon. The thing lived in his room for three
years, big and limping and missing some key body parts. It scared the living shit out of Laura.)
a word, Derek is the sensitive one of the family.
you know. They never really get around explaining that Derek is kind of really, really
bad at it?
keep postponing it, year after year. Someone always tries to whisper something
about it at family reunions, then Derek asks them to wrestle with him and they
fold like wet paper and throw themselves into the walls with dramatic groans.
pass. Revealing it becomes more and more difficult. The idea of Derek feeling
like the butt of the joke is a sickening idea. As a teenager, he’s so insecure
and kind, all gangly and clumsy.
when he wins his fight, Derek doesn’t preen –he’s too nice for that— but he
scintillates slightly in pure happiness. Then, he usually looks at his family
with this trusting and eager look. The “look, I’m a good werewolf!” eyes.
dad can’t handle the eyes. He has to get inside the house and lie down every
time. Men are weak)
a decade has passed, and it spiraled out of control. Derek sucks at fighting.
Badly. It’s almost amazing.
Laura still falls down head first in the dirt.
Maj’ cries dramatically.
lay down on the ground, not moving, and his sister still grumbles at him to
look more knock down or grandma will
knife him if he makes Derek sad.
none of this is mocking, because Derek is really amazing at so many things in
his life, they are honestly proud of who he is. He is just pathologically bad
at planning ahead, has negative strategy abilities and is so used to people
falling down when he bumps into them that he doesn’t realize how real fighting
Derek, kicking someone while doing a summersault is so efficient, what a wonderful idea” and “this pirouette was so
pretty and so useful in combination with your amazingly dangerous final blow” and “You almost took Peter’s head
right off kid!”.
you know, in the future, I kind of want Derek’s pack to pick up the habit
without realizing it?
want them to smile at Derek when he trains betas, nodding gravely while Derek
jumps and swirls like a ballerina.
the while, Stiles and Erica waves their arms at the bewildered beta from behind
Derek’s back, trying to explain with their hands that they will explain the
really efficient moves after, but please, just
play dead goddamnit.
The way we play this game, your “primary” house is WHY you do things and your “secondary” house is HOW. For a broader overview of our system, please go here!
Leia and Han share a brash and strident Gryffindor Secondary. In this system, Secondaries are about how you do something, not why: the Gryffindor Primary is about morality, drive, faith, but the Gryffindor Secondary is about honesty, bravery, and a certain tendency to charge at things.
Han isn’t doing things ‘because they’re the right thing to do’– he’s a Slytherin Primary and he’s doing things because he loves Leia, loves Luke, and he grows to love the causes they both care so much for. Leia, a Gryffindor Primary as well as Secondary, is doing things because they are the right thing to do.
But the way Leia and Han do things (the methods they use aka their secondary) are similar. They’re both shouty and cantankerous of course, but they’re also both unashamed of being themselves, fiercely unafraid and certain in their own skin, and natural and effective leaders– all common aspects of the Gryffindor Secondary.
Gryffindor Secondaries will be themselves even if it kills them. This both is a problem– they’re more likely to break than bend– but also an asset. They have a tendency to inspire those around them– they believe so strongly and so loudly that other people end up carried along in their wake. They charge at things, and sometimes the world breaks or bends before they shatter themselves against it.
While Han is a selfishly loyal Slytherin Primary, Leia, like her mother, is a Gryffindor Primary. She believes in right and wrong– in justice and the Republic. She watches her home planet get destroyed for the sake of the plans she has hidden away, the only hope of the Rebellion. She dedicated her life, and is willing to dedicate her death, to the cause of freedom in the universe. She knows what is right here, and she will live and die by it.
(And, like her mother, Leia falls for a Slytherin/Gryffindor… luckily, Han is a hell of a lot better at it than Anakin.)
Luke is a Ravenclaw Primary who builds his moral system out of his own reasoning and out of the pieces he borrows and adopts from the people he loves. He doesn’t have a very robust or complicated system when we first meet him– a cooped-up farmboy desperate for something more. He’s never had to deal with much of anything, and so he doesn’t yet have a framework (or even particularly an instinct) for how to make hard calls. He starts out childish, selfish, and impatient, but Luke has a thirst for something more once he realizes there is more out there. He takes on Obi Wan’s teachings, then seeks out Yoda’s, and begins his journey to revitalize (and redefine) the Jedi.
There are Ravenclaw Primaries who adopt a fully built system or subscribe to a morality outside themselves (ex. Javert from Les Mis)– Luke is not one of these. He does not swallow even the Jedi code whole. He edits, adapts, and constructs something he’s happier living in and which ultimately leads to his success.
The thing that differentiates Ravenclaw and Gryffindor Primaries in this system (called “the idealists” v. the Slytherin and Hufflepuff “loyalists”) is that Gryffindors intuit or feel and Ravenclaws think or build. For a Gryffindor: “doesn’t matter how much you talk around it, some things are just wrong.” A Ravenclaw is as likely as Gryffindor (or as any person) to have a gut sense of morality, but a Gryffindor would feel guilty about obeying their cold reason if it leads them someplace that feels wrong to them, while a Ravenclaw would feel guilty for listening to their gut when their mind told them the less savory path was the more righteous.
Luke is a Ravenclaw Primary, and he’s one who builds his own system out of the pieces he picks up around them. While he has irrational emotional responses to things (as we all do, Ravenclaws are people too), Luke is at his best and most powerful when he can ignore them, tamp them down, and choose what to do based on the things he’s decided to live by– bits of pieces of the Jedi Order, as taught by Obi Wan and Yoda; the camaraderie and cause of his rebel friends; and the overwhelming compassion he’s chosen for himself.
This is most apparent in his final battle with the Emperor and Vader. Luke spends the majority of the series building his primary, and the final battle is its test by fire. The Emperor tries repeatedly to tear him from the system he’s chosen. Luke believes there is still good in his father, but Vader brings him to the Emperor, a betrayal of that faith. Luke is forced to watch his friends’ ships burn in the sky, is told about Leia and Han’s plans failing on the surface of the moon.
The (one of many) place(s) the Emperor is mistaken about Luke and his weaknesses is this: Luke’s faith does not rely on other people. Luke believes in his friends. He believes in his father, and that the Light side of the Force– life, compassion, peace– will win out in the end. His friends can fail, his father can stay Fallen, and Luke will hold onto that faith anyway. He will die with it, because in the end it is this Ravenclaw’s system that his strength relies on. Luke chose what to believe, he built it into himself, and he will not be changed. His faith isn’t about being proven right. It’s about knowing these things are worth believing in and dying for.
Another place the Emperor is mistaken is this: Luke is not a Jedi of old Corsucant, rigid and blind and arrogant. Luke took the best of Yoda and Obi Wan’s teachings and crafted them with the best of himself and his friends. Anakin says in Episode Three that the Jedi are supposed to be about compassion– that compassion is selfless love. The Jedi had forgotten, had focused so hard on the 'selfless’ and on condemning attachment that they forgot to remember the 'love.’ Anakin focused so hard on the 'love’ he forgot the 'selfless’ and fell headlong into an ugly murderous selfish pit of yuck.
Luke takes what they give him– Obi Wan’s trust in the Force, Yoda’s patience, the glimmer of light he can still see in his father, the love and connection that he’s known and that he’s known strengthened him in his aunt, his uncle, his sister, his friends. He takes all these things and builds for himself something based in compassion, and it’s this– his faith in and love for his friends, his faith in and love for his father, his selfless love– that carries his victory in the end. His friends succeed. His father saves him, and destroys the Emperor. Han and Leia are waiting for him on the planet’s surface, and he goes home.
Luke’s secondary is hard to pinpoint, possibly because he spends so much of this series creating himself. However, his go-with-the-flow attitude, his ability to adapt almost seamlessly to major and traumatizing life experiences, and his general reactive ease suggest he might be a particularly wholesome Slytherin Secondary.
Luke doesn’t seem to be a “foundational” secondary– either Hufflepuff, who builds in labor, patience, toil, and sometimes kindness; or Ravenclaw, who builds in learning, skills acquisition, and tool collection. His often off-the-cuff victories and lack of planning ahead suggest he’s an “improvisational” secondary– either charging, honest Gryffindor or adaptive, flexible Slytherin.
While he sometimes resembles a Gryffindor, Luke doesn’t seem to charge like a Gryffindor Secondary does, or to put particularly much stock in the forthrightness Gryff Secondaries value– compare him to true Gryff Secondaries Han and Leia, who are so brashly themselves, while Luke just tends to look amused or vaguely put-out in the background. While Luke is occasionally rash or impatient in ways that get him in trouble, especially earlier on in the movies, he is still at heart a flexible and adaptive character. He makes reckless calls sometimes, looking like perhaps a young and immature Gryff, but he, unlike Gryffindor Secondaries, still seems more likely to bend than to break.
When he does choose, in his final confrontation with the Emperor, to stand that is a decision based in the solidity of his Ravenclaw Primary. He has found something to believe in and he is willing to stand and die for that. If he didn’t believe, if the Light, his friends, and his compassion were not worth it, then Luke would likely have found another way out. He is not charging, not fighting, not defying as fiercely as a Gryffindor would in those same shoes– Luke is just standing and refusing to lose faith in the face of Darkness. An immovable object, not an unstoppable force– a Slytherin Secondary who has found something worth standing for.
Anakin and Padme are mirrors of each other– Anakin is a fiercely, destructively loyal Slytherin Primary with a brash Gryffindor Secondary (which his daughter inherits and is 100% better at). Padme is an idealistic and certain Gryffindor Primary with a flexible and subtle Slytherin Secondary. While mirrored sortings, like all sortings, are all perfectly likely to be compatible, for Padme and Anakin this mismatch is one of the things that dooms them. (It is also, likely, one of the things that attracts them to each other.)
When they are discussing the possibility of their clandestine love affair, they come at it from different angles– she does not want to live a lie. Her Gryffindor Primary finds it unsatisfying and uncomfortable– but her quick and clever Slytherin Secondary is perfectly capable of pulling the charade off once they enter into it.
Anakin, however, wants their love badly, secret or not– his first priorities are himself and the people he loves and getting what he wants. His morality and his priorities are perfectly comfortable with keeping this secret– it’s his methods and his Gryffindor Secondary desire to live as himself where the kid screws up. Secret-keeping is something he cannot live with– the young soon-to-be-Sith just isn’t nearly self aware enough to see the doom and failure coming for him.
By the time we meet Darth Vader in Ep. 4-6, Anakin has become something we call a “petrified” Slytherin Primary. For each of the primaries, there is a “burned” state where the person has lost faith in the value, effectiveness, safety, or worth of that primary. A Puff decides communities are too dangerous, a Gryffindor is stuck on a moral quandary that sends them spiralling… for a petrified Slytherin, the Slytherin has decided that loving anyone (even including themselves sometimes) is dangerous, silly, and useless. Losing Padme and betraying the Jedi, Anakin petrifies into Darth Vader. The closest thing he has remaining to a loving bond is his obedience to the Emperor.
His redemption in the final scenes is concurrent with him unpetrifying. The thing Anakin reclaims is his ability to love his son, which gives him the motivation and strength to turn on darkness, save Luke, and kill the Emperor.
In her last moments, Padme, like Anakin, “burns.” While Slytherin Anakin loses his faith in the worth and safety of love and connection, Padme’s shock and horror at Anakin’s betrayal drives her own certain Gryffindor moral compass to fall apart. She believed in Anakin, and he’s gone evil, so what does that say about her? About right and wrong? About the ability to know anything, to do anything? She crumbles.
Chewy seems to be a loyalist Primary– either a Hufflepuff Primary or a particularly warm and open Slytherin Primary. He loves Han, and seems to either grow to love Luke, Leia, and the droids just as strongly or to just have a natural and kindly tendency to help the people in need around him. I’m leaning toward Hufflepuff.
His secondary seems to be Hufflepuff, too– the House of patience, tolerance, and toil. Chewbacca is largely a 'support’ character, a role many Hufflepuff Secondaries get put in. They don’t tend to be flashy or loud, but what Hufflepuff Secondaries do do best is work. They show up. They are there when people need them and their quiet, devoted, patient work tends to pay off.
While other secondaries are likely to be more explosive, more obviously useful in the fray, or to pull amazing rabbits out of their hats, one rule of thumb for sussing out Hufflepuff secondaries out is this: if you removed them from the story, would everything fall apart? The Falcon, their speedy escapes, C3P0 in the Cloud City, their little team, Han… without Chewy and his reliable Puff secondary everything would be a lot less stable.
R2D2, the loyal and clever droid, is an unashamed Slytherin Primary with an adaptive and practical Slytherin Secondary. Loyal first to Padme and Anakin, and then later to Leia and Luke, (and with a particular fondness for C3P0), R2 will go to any lengths to help his people. Handily, his lengths are also really darn effective– I hereby nominate this droid for MVP of both trilogies, but anyway– R2’s opportunistic, go-with-the-flow methods (which drive poor C3P0 batty) suggest a Slytherin Secondary.
C3P0, in contrast, is the more stereotypical robotic sorting of Ravenclaw/Ravenclaw. C3P0 has a system he lives by, based on such things like who he considers his master to be at the moment, and rules like 'don’t impersonate a deity’ (Ep. 6). He sticks by these even when they put his friends or their mission in danger.
His secondary is Ravenclaw, one of our 'foundational’ secondaries (in contrast to our 'improvisational’ secondaries of charging Gryffindor and adaptive Slytherin). C3P0 doesn’t react quickly in the moment– he draws from the things he has already known, thought through, learned, or planned. This is also a vitally useful skill– for example, he’s the one who can pull out languages and communicate when the rest of our team is at a loss.
His secondary is also what leads R2D2 to stress him the heck out so much– R2D2 goes in without a plan, relying on his Slytherin Secondary skills to help him seize opportunities, adapt, and make it through. This seems like madness to Ravenclaw C3P0; and, more than that, R2’s methods keep working?? Poor 3P0.
Though Obi Wan Kenobi loves various idealists (read: Gryffindor or Ravenclaw Primaries) and builds a solid model of Ravenclaw Primary to live in, he is at heart a Hufflepuff Primary. He loves his people, he bases his decisions off that love, and he loves in a broader, fairer, more family-focused way than a Slytherin Primary might.
Slytherin and Hufflepuff are our two “loyalist” primaries, but where Slytherins love individuals, fiercely and with an edge of possession that can be warm and good or terrifying and unhealthy, Hufflepuffs love people, groups, families, and communities with an edge of something less like possession and more like belonging.
Obi Wan loves the Jedi, and even more strongly, his smaller more immediate Jedi family of Quigon Jin, Anakin (and, as an extension of Anakin, Padme– and eventually Luke and Leia). Anakin’s betrayal therefore is debilitating to Obi Wan– Anakin not only betrays him, he betrays the Temple, the Jedi, the memory of Quigon, and even the children. Obi Wan yells it in that last fight, because it is the betrayal at the heart of all those others– “you were my brother. I loved you.”
Obi Wan “burns” at this point, which is a term we use to describe when something so terrible has happened that a person loses faith in their primary. Obi Wan, a Hufflepuff who has dedicated his life to a community he just felt wiped out by the person closest to him, takes Luke to Tatooine and then spends two decades living by himself on a lonely clifftop. He is warier, lonelier, and sadder.
Like Luke, Obi Wan’s secondary seems to be Slytherin. Adaptive, improvisational, and a bit sly, Obi Wan’s response to traps is “let’s spring it.” He throws himself into situations with little prep other than his own faith in and reliance on his ability to respond capably to things– he’s not sure what will happen, but he knows that if there’s a way out he’ll find it. This is apparent when he shows up at the clone factory planet’s doorstep in Ep. 2, takes blinking stock of the situation, and then capably impersonates an agent of Sidious. He steps into the bar in Mos Eisley with lower risks but a similar attitude of “well, let’s see what we’ll find.”
This methodology is also behind some of his conflicts with Anakin, who is a particularly immature Gryffindor Secondary who just wants to CHARGE AT STUFF. While both Slytherin and Gryffindor are improvisational secondaries, they differ in how they tend to improvise. Gryffindors tend to act, and Slytherins tend to react. A good example of a description of a very capable Slytherin Secondary tactic is Jack Sparrow’s advice to Will Turner in Pirates of the Caribbean, “Wait for the opportune moment.”
In this case, Obi Wan is also a significantly more mature and capable individual than Anakin, who is rash, careless, and impatient. Obi Wan’s reading the situation, trusting himself to move and act at just the right moment– and then there’s Anakin, springing at something half-cocked. Even when Anakin’s brashness does effectively take the day, carried by Anakin’s talents and power, Obi Wan is as frustrated and confused as poor C3P0 is trying to figure out why R2D2 can keep not dying despite his recklessness. (Or, for that matter, Hamilton’s Aaron Burr watching Alexander’s loudmouthed antics and mystifying successes.)
Luke Ravenclaw/Slytherin Leia Gryffindor/Gryffindor Han Slytherin/Gryffindor Anakin’s a Slytherdor too Padme Gryffindor/Slytherin Chewbacca Hufflepuff/Hufflepuff Obi Wan Hufflepuff/Slytherin R2D2 Slytherin/Slytherin C3P0 Ravenclaw/Ravenclaw
Star Wars is overwhelmingly populated by “improvisational” secondaries– Gryffindor secondaries, who charge, fight, and defy; and Slytherin secondaries, who adapt, react, and maneuver.
Luke, Padme, Obi Wan, and R2D2 are all Slytherin Secondaries. Opportunistic and quick on their feet, they deal with most situations by trusting themselves and reacting capably. As particularly driven individuals, these four don’t just wait for trouble to come to them– when they want information, movement, or response they tend to drop themselves in the middle of situations and let the chaos occur, knowing that as soon as any opportunity presents themselves, they’ll grab it.
Leia, Han, and Anakin are all Gryffindor Secondaries, more likely to shoot or slice at problems when frustrated than slip out a back door, go with the flow, or stall and sidle.
The only major “foundational” secondaries (secondaries who rely not on their reactivity but their previous preparation) in the main cast are Chewbacca (a hard-working, reliable Hufflepuff Secondary) and C3P0 (a stressed, prepared-for-certain-specific-situations-but-much-of-this-story-isn’t-those-situations Ravenclaw Secondary).
Luke is a Ravenclaw Primary who built his own systems out of both outside moralities and his own compassionate reason, while C3P0 is a Ravenclaw Primary who bases his morality strictly on his programming.
Leia and her mother Padme are both bright and certain Gryffindor Primaries who know what they believe in and are willing to fight and die for it.
Han, Anakin, and R2D2 are all loyal, somewhat amoral Slytherin Primaries, who put their people first– handily, Han and R2D2 both put a lot of value into the moralities and rebel cause their loved ones believe in. If Anakin had spent more time listening to Padme and fighting battles for her instead of following his own selfish agendas… the story might have turned out different.
Chewbacca and Obi Wan are both Hufflepuff Primaries, who love and are loyal to people in a broader sense than Slytherin’s pointed loyalties. Obi Wan fought for the Jedi and the Republic, not just Quigon. Chewbacca loves Han, but also easily slips into a warm helpfulness towards Leia, Luke, the droids, and the people around them.
Right so. Basically Alexander Hamilton was born in the Caribbean poor as shit. His father left when he was 10 and his mother died 2 years later after they were both ill. He moved in with his cousin and started reading, writing, and working, moving up very fast in the ranks of the trade firm. Then his cousin committed suicide and a hurricane destroyed the town, but the town put together a fund to send him to America to study and make something of himself. He gets there and gets into Kings College, but wants to graduate in 2 years instead of 4 so he can go fight in the revolution, but the college is like nah fam and he’s like “FIGHT ME IRL” and then punches the bursar. Needless to say they kick him tf out and he rolls into town to see Aaron Burr (who had graduated in 2 years cause his parents died and left money to the college - rich kids amirite). Burr tells him to talk less smile more, and is like generally “Hamilton sit down”. Hamilton ignores this then meets some other revolutionary peeps (Laurens, Lafayette, and HERCULES MULLIGAN - You’ll understand later why his name must always be capitalised). He gets them all riled up and drunk as shit and is like we should go fight someone. So they roll up to a guy called Samuel Seybury who doesn’t support the revolution and they’re like HOW DARE and try to fight him.
While this is going on the Schuyler Sisters (Angelica, Eliza……… and Peggy) are rolling through NYC trying to pick up dudes, and Burr tries to hit on them but they tell him to fuck off and start talking about how women should be equal to men (amen sisters)
Then King George III rocks up and is like why are you doing this America I thought we were BFFs how could YOU. And then he’s like that’s it definitely sending my army in now.
So ding dong it’s all aboard the revolution express and George Washington is emo because he needs someone to help him out and his soldiers are demotivated. In rolls Burr like ayo I was a captain before and my previous commander got shot so… HIRE ME. It gets awks. Real fast. But Hamilton shows up and Washington is like THANK FUCK Burr you can go. Hamilton then agrees to be Washington’s right hand man.
Back to the sisterhood of purity and now it’s time for a LOVE TRIANGLE 0.o - So Angelica sorta fancies Hamilton but also Eliza loves Hamilton and they’re like omg what shall we do. But Angelica is like aha I’m probably too good for him he can have my sister instead. Then she has the regrets and is like to her sis please share him ;-) And Eliza is like A HAHAHA GOOD JOKE but pls don’t steal him.
So Eliza and Alexander get married and Burr rocks up to say congrats but then Alex and the crew wail on him for zero reason other than fuck Burr I guess. Also turns out Burr is having an affair with the wife of a British officer and Alex is like oh damn son but srs why are you scared go get her why do you wait. And Burr is like LEMME TELL YOU A STORY about waiting.
Burr explains his parents and grandad were great people who did amazing things but then they died and left him with only their legacy to protect and that is why he is so cautious. He has one of the most heartbreaking lines in the show “If there’s a reason I’m still alive when everyone who loves me has died, then I’m willing to wait for it”. He also expresses sorta admiration/disbelief that Alexander keeps taking and taking and not waiting, and yet he keeps winning.
Ding dong it’s back to revolution and Hamilton wants a promotion. He’s like PLS George Washington give me my own command. And Washington is like nah fam imma appoint this other dude Charles Lee instead. This goes badly when Lee nearly gets everyone killed, and Hamilton is like SOMEONE SHOULD FIGHT HIM. Laurens fights him and wins but then Washington is piiiiiiiiissed and sends Hamilton home where it turns out NEWSFLASH Eliza is pregnant and just wants Alexander to stay home as that would be enough for her. But Hamilton is like nah fam war isn’t done - ANGST.
Back to revolution and Lafayette is rapping REALLY FUCKING FAST cause he’s suddenly learned all of English when he wasn’t very good at it before. He explains how he brought reinforcements and shit from France but is like Washington you really need Hamilton back and Washington is like omg you’re right Hamilton pls come back I’ll give you soldiers to command BUT first listen to my song about the first time I was in command and oopsed and got my men killed so yeah DON’T DO THAT also bear in mind history has its eyes on you they may even make a musical someday ayo ;)
So Hamilton comes back and they end up winning and King George gets SUPER UPSET because parliament won’t pay for his war anymore but he’s like good luck lmao now see what I’ve had to deal with being in charge. So revolution is over and America is born, meanwhile Burr and Hamilton both have kids at the same time and turns out they’re pretty similar in that they wanna build a good world for their kids to live in.
Hamilton moves back to New York finishes his studies and becomes a lawyer, where he ends up working with Burr on the first murder trial in America. He shows off as usual and Burr gets pissed, but is also like how do you keep doing all this stuff oh my God you’re non stop.
So yeah now we’ve skipped forward a bit and Washington is President, Hamilton becomes Treasury Secretary. But UH OH Thomas Jefferson is back from France where he has been getting hella high and sleeping with loads of women, and he’s here to fuck Hamilton’s shit up. They have a straight up rap battle in a cabinet meeting and Hamilton wins but realises he’s outnumbered anyway and need to change tactics if he wants his financial plans implemented.
Meanwhile Eliza really wants him to take a fucking break and listen to his son play piano and rap, and also go with her and Angelica on holiday. Hamilton is like nah fam I have to work soz and they go away anyway. But then Hamilton fucks up. Literally. He sleeps with a woman called Maria Reynolds who rolls into his office asking for dolla. But UH OH turns out her husband knows and blackmails Hamilton to keep it quiet, and he agrees because he’s an atrocious human being.
Back to politics for a sec and Hamilton makes a deal with Jefferson to move the capital to Washington DC from NYC if his financial plans go through. But Burr gets super angry because nobody invited him to government camp, and then Hamilton is like I got what I wanted but WHAT DO YOU WANT. *side eyes emoji* And Burr is like I wanna be in the room where it happens. So finally in the second act we know what Burr actually wants.
And apparently his first step is to get elected a Senator. So ofc he’s like lol I’ll just kick Eliza’s dad out of the Senate how could this go wrong ^^
Surprise surprise it goes poorly and Hamilton is piiiiisssssed. And Burr’s dropping mega shady vibes like Hamilton your pride will be the death of us all ;) ;) Beware it cometh before the fall ;) ;) ;)
So there’s another cabinet meeting now and France is fighting Britain and wants America’s help. Hamilton is like NUUUUPE we can’t do that it’s a mess lol sorry France. Jefferson meanwhile is like WHAT THIS IS OUTRAGEOUSSSSSSS. He forms an alliance with Burr and they call themselves SOUTHERN MOTHER FUCKING DEMOCRATIC REPUBLICANS. He then resigns from the cabinet and is like imma run for President.
Washington by this point is too old for this shit and is like I don’t wanna be President anymore. And Alexander is like A hahaha ha good joke. And Washington is like no fam I’m serious. And Hamilton is like 😭😭😭 so they write a farewell address to the nation and everyone is sad but then Washington rides off to go enjoy his retirement.
So Jefferson loses the election to Washington’s Vice President, John Adams. But Jefferson is the new VP. Adams fires Hamilton and is super racist towards him but then Alexander is like HOW DARE and destroys him in the paper.
Jefferson and Burr have at this point noticed some weird payments coming out of Hamilton’s accounts to James Reynolds and think he’s been doing some dodgy financial corruption shit. So they roll up like hey we got the cheque stubs boy explain this. And Hamilton is like oh shit so he confesses his affair but is like please keep it secret omg. And they’re like k I guess.
Hamilton then remembers how he wrote his way out of the Caribbean and so OF COURSE he can write his way out of this situation as well. So he decides to write and publish the Reynolds pamphlet where he is like “yall think I’m guilty of financial crimes but JOKES ON YOU I actually had an affair ayo” and everyone’s like wait what. And Eliza is like wait WHAT. And Angelica is like MOTHERFUCKER WHAT. So Hamilton definitely fucked up his whole political career never to be fixed woops.
Angelica shows up and Hamilton is like thank gawd someone who understands me and Angelica is like BITCH I’M NOT HERE FOR YOU I’m here for my sister so go away.
Eliza is v angry and basically burns all Hamilton’s letters to her and is like I hope that YOU burn (also a fucking chilling emotional line).
Ding dong. It’s time for a time shift and now Hamilton’s son Philip is 19 and just graduated from King’s College. But UH OH someone talked shit about his father and he’s like IMMA FIGHT THEM and Hamilton is like fine but pls don’t actually shoot them and Philip is like fine when we duel I won’t shoot dad omg.
So they duel and Philip aims for the sky intending not to shoot but they other guys pulls a dick move and shoots before they count to 10. So Philip is deceased and Eliza and Hamilton r upset.
So Hamilton is pretty :’( and now wanders the streets by himself, finds jesus (not in the streets, in like his heart), and eventually him and Eliza make everything right.
But hold up its politics time again and now it’s an election year. Jefferson is running for President again and John Adams is gonna lose but uh oh Burr also runs for President. It’s a tie and the whole party goes to Hamilton like Bro who you want to be Pres? And Hamilton is like leave me alone. And then they say it again LOUDER and Hamilton meets Burr whilst out campaigning and is like “is there anything you wouldn’t do to win” and Burr is like “no and I learned that from you”.
So Hamilton finally agrees to endorse someone and SHOCKER endorses Jefferson. His reasoning is I’m enemies with Jefferson but at least he has principles cos Burr has none. And Jefferson is like wait what. And Burr is like MOTHERFUCKER WHAT.
So Burr writes some angry letters to Hamilton basically blaming him for everything that’s gone wrong in his life. Hamilton responds with an itemised FUCKING LIST of the disagreements they’ve had. Burr is like take it back. Hamilton says no. Burr is like fight me then. Hamilton is like k fam let’s go.
So they’re gonna duel but before that Hamilton writes a letter to Eliza explaining all this shit. He then rocks up to the dueling ground across the river and Burr is like Wait is he actually gonna shoot me omg THIS MAN WILL NOT MAKE AN ORPHAN OF MY DAUGHTER (also a tearjerker moment) so they count to 10 and shots are fired. Hamilton is hit and does a death soliloquy like oh shit what is my legacy. He sees the light and all the dead people he loves and is like imma go there too.
Back to realtime and Burr is like he’s aiming his pistol to the sky? ? WAAAAIIIIIT. But it’s too late he’s shot Hamilton in the ribs and he’s rushed away and gets a drink. He’s told he’d better hide cause Alexander died. He now laments that history obliterates and paints him in all his mistakes, and that he’s now the villain in our history. Basically he has the mega regrets.
Then everyone gets together and sings about Alexander’s life and Eliza explains how she’s telling his story to everyone, and how she lives another 50 years (time that he always wanted). She raises funds to build the Washington Monument, speaks out against slavery, and is basically the real MVP for the rest of her life. But her proudest achievement is establishing the first private orphanage in NYC and helping loads of kids grow up and she’s like “in their eyes I see you Alexander I see you every time”. She now wonders if she has done enough and if people will tell her story, and that she can’t wait to see him again
Very little is known for certain about Boss Skeleton monsters. Their names tended to be strange even for monster standards and based around how they spoke. Unarguably they were the most powerful monsters in the kingdom. They had very long life spans. How long exactly, no one really knew for certain but a skeleton had always ruled the monsters. It seemed as if one always would.
Well. At LEAST one. The current rulers of the monster kingdom were a pair of brothers from the Aster family. Papyrus, the youngest, took care of the day-to-day concerns of the population. Sans, the eldest, didn’t seem to do much in the public eye but in fact made certain that the kingdom ran smoothly. Despite their birth order, Sans decided against being called King when their parents stepped down from the throne, opting instead to let his brother have the title. They both ruled equally, despite the difference in age and title and the kingdom survived.
It came as much of a surprise to the brothers as it did to the rest of the kingdom when it was discovered that a new heir was going to arrive. While the two acted dignified about it in public, in private it was a whole other matter.
The room was very dark when Sans barged into it. He could vaguely spot his brother’s form underneath the comforter. Taking off the lens cap from the old video camera, he started recording as he shook Papyrus awake.
The taller skeleton grunted and rolled over. Undeterred, Sans grasped his brother’s humerus and shook him again.
“Sans I am trying to sleep,” Papyrus sat up, staring directly at his older brother. The very faint light coming from the smaller skeleton’s eye sockets traced out the blocky shape of the recording device. “…and is that a camera?”
“yes but that’s not important, listen to this: why don’t robots have any brothers?” There was a moment of silence.
“Are we really doing this, Sans?”
“c'mon, guess.” For the first time in many years, Papyrus detected a slight whine in his brother’s tone. He sighed, giving in as usual. Nothing could get him to enjoy whatever punchline Sans had in store, however.
“…Why do robots not have any brothers.”
“because all they have are tran-SISTERS.” Even in the dark, the grin on the smaller skeleton’s face could easily be seen. Papyrus rolled his eye sockets.
“Practicing for our new sibling, hm? You MUST be excited.”
Sans winked at his brother. “hey you never know, they might find my jokes humerus.” Papyrus groaned, but smiled as he did so. “so just because you don’t like them doesn’t mean you’re allowed tibia skull-king all the time.”
“Well it is QUITE late for THAT. Put a little more backbone into your jokes and maybe we will talk.” There was a long moment where the two of them didn’t say anything. This moment was completely ruined by Sans snorting and Papyrus chortling. The brothers laughed and laughed for several minutes. It was when they had calmed down that Sans finally remembered the camera that he had brought.
“Damn, it’s probably too dark to see anything.” He commented before shutting down the device.
The wait for their new sibling was altogether too long for either of their liking, but soon enough the new prince was welcomed into the skeleton brothers’ lives with open arms. Papyrus and Sans vowed to always care for their new brother and make certain that he would be happy. Their resolve to do so only increased when their parents fell down and turned to dust before the boy’s name could be discovered. Only very close friends of the royal family knew this, but Boss Skeleton Monsters were not named by their family. Instead, when they first learn to talk the young Boss’s initial speech pattern gives way to what their name will be.
As it turned out, Winding learned to talk fairly early. The only problem was that those who didn’t or couldn’t speak to the young prince on a regular basis found it very hard to understand him when he used his voice. A temporary solution was found by teaching the boy how to speak with hand signs, a method developed to help monsters who couldn’t speak communicate with others. In addition to teaching him how to sign, Sans took it upon himself to try to help his baby brother speak in “a clearer font” as he put it. Papyrus often joined in on the lessons, encouraging Winding all the while.
It was during one of these sessions that the boy wanted to try to speak without assistance. They met in the meager garden that resided within the castle. Flowers didn’t grow very easily underground, but the king and the older prince missed the surface and thought that having a garden would keep other monsters from missing it too badly. The middle brother had yet to join them due to a minor issue he had to take care of, but Papyrus had assured his little brother that he would return promptly.
The little skeleton was too impatient for that. He balled the ends of his oversized sweater into his hands and struggled to speak in the “font” that Sans taught him. “My n-name is W-w-win…"Seeing the distress on his brother’s face, the eldest brother tried to give him an out.
“hey buddy you don’t have to if you’re feel–” Sans was stopped by a scowl and a clear shut up gesture. He shrugged and let his baby brother continue. The little prince agonized over his own name for what felt like forever. The shapes that his mouth needed to take felt unnatural and too simple for his liking. He refused to give up, however.
Just when it seemed like yet another failed attempt, the boy managed to say what he wanted. “Windin G-gaster!” Winding smiled triumphantly while panting. It wasn’t perfect, but he had done it. He’d said his name! Sans blinked, his eye lights very small in their sockets. Seeing his brother’s face start to fall, he quickly responded.
“wow. that’s, that’s fantastic bro. great job.” He put a hand on top of Winding’s skull, his usual smile looking brighter than normal. The prince’s face mirrored his brother’s. “do you mind saying it again?” The little skeleton shoved his chest forward and spoke with more confidence.
“My name is W-windin Gaster.” There was a slight pause, followed by a snort. The little skeleton cocked his head in confusion. Sans covered his widening grin with a hand
“nothing, nothing…I just didn’t know you were so full of hot air, GAS-ter.” This was said with a wink. It didn’t take long for the boy to understand what his brother meant. Tiny magic bones materialized and threw themselves at the robe-clad skeleton. Sans laughed as they practically bounced off of him.
“Nooo!” That was one word the prince certainly could say without anyone misunderstanding him. Papyrus strolled into the garden at that moment. Sans waved him over.
“pap you’ve gotta hear this, it’s wonderful.”
“NO NO NO!” The little prince tried to cover up his oldest brother’s mouth to no avail. Soon enough the boy would be known to those he saw often as “Gaster.” He got used to the nickname eventually.
Okay this is mostly some of my headcanons about Altertale that I just had to make into something like a story.
It wasn’t so much the pain and soreness, even though I did not prefer to sleep on my back. The burns on my thighs and torso kept me from sleeping on my side as I liked–curled against Rhysand, as I loved. I turned my head, pressing my cheek against the cool pillow and drinking in the sight of him–the way the moon painted streaks of light over his angled face, relaxed in his sleep. His hair, mussed, hung over his brow, and he seemed so peaceful. No nightmares for him tonight, at least not yet. He slept with one arm over his head, the other draped over his strong, muscular body so that his limp fingers brushed my arm.
You loved Jax, some days you loved him more than others,
today you were bouncing between pissed beyond belief that despite being in
Belfast you STILL did not have your son, and slightly amused a how oblivious
Jax was. This little Trinity was flirting hard with your old man which was
honstely amusing, partly because yes you were 5 years younger than Jax and what
happens on a run stays on the run, but Jax never took that advantage of the
runs. Also when the run is to rescue your kidnapped child, and your old lady is
with you? There is nothing going to happen on the damn run, but more
importantly it was obvious this girl had Teller blood.
Gemma was acting oddly and the girl look similar enough to
Jax that it was coincidence this was things you saw even in Abel’s face, these
were Teller traits. The nose, the hair, and while you couldn’t see it, the
attitude. Gemma was queen of SAMCRO, queen of the original charter, most people
backed off when they saw her, but not Maureen, she was either very stupid or
had something that Gemma didn’t want getting out. As you watched Trinity you
knew just what that secret was, JT had had an affair during his time in
Ireland, what happens on a run and all, but that must get more difficult when
what happens on a run ends with a daughter.
You had decided not to say anything to Gemma, at least not
yet, there was no need to upset your mother in law, and no need to out the big
secret yet. You would just have to assert your place as Jax’s old lady very
clearly. Make sure the baby sister, who was as oblivious as her brother, kept
her hands off, both so you weren’t tempted to removed said hands and also
because umm gross!! At that thought you got up from the picnic table you had
been sitting on and went over to your old man, who was getting ready to kick
some SAMBEL ass just for the fun of it.
“Baby,” you walked to him and put your left hand on his
chest taking his shirt and kutte with the right, “you ready to win for me?” You
gave him a glowing smile and a wink, all while stepping in between him and
Trinity, and going up on your toes for a kiss. Jax might be only 6’1” but to
your whole 5’3” that was more than tall enough.
“Just in time Y/N, I can’t have anyone else in charge of my
leather, might not treat it right.” He was happy, you had spent the day pretty
mad at him so this was a change he wasn’t expecting, and that seemed to be
enough to throw off any suspicions of why you were extra territorial at the
moment. That was good, you didn’t want to have to be the one to tell him that
the girl who wouldn’t stop hitting on him was actually his sister, not when
Gemma obviously didn’t want him to know.
“Don’t worry about your leather baby, it’s always in good
hands with me. Now go kick ass, and try to make it quick I have more fun plans
for you after this.” You smile at the lust filled look Jax sent you, along with
his patented Teller smirk as he walked over to where the fight was. For obvious
reasons you hadn’t be wanting to jump his bones while worrying about Abel, but in
Belfast you had to play Jimmy’s game so why not jump your old, after all amazing
sex is a great stress reliever. Jimmy’s games couldn’t last forever and you
knew Jax would kill him if that was what it took to get your little boy back in
your arms, so he deserved a mind blowing night. You knew Jax loved you and would
go to hell and back for you without a second thought. Now you had make that
clear to Trinity, there was many reasons this girl didn’t stand a chance but
staking your claim now would spread and all the crow eaters would know Jax was completely
yours and you didn’t share.
You turned around, ready to get the conversation done before
you missed Jax’s fight, but Trinity beat you to it. “I understand, you don’t
want me around him.” “Trinity, I promise you, you don’t understand, but I’ll
make this part clear. Do not hit on my old man again or it will end badly for
you, I suggest you spread that around, make all the girls lives easier when I
don’t have to remove their hands for touching him.” Yeah ok maybe threatening
was a bit too much for Jax’s little sister, you probably wouldn’t remove her
hands from her body, but the rest of them didn’t stand a chance if they
overstepped. With your threat given you turned your attention to Jax’s fight that
was just starting, watching him fight was a foreplay on its own.
Jax was pumped from his victory as he came over
to you flexing and looking like he wanted to devour you, you couldn’t think of
a better way to spend the rest of the night. Jax threw you over his shoulder,
slapped your ass while walking towards where you were dorming for the stay, and
said “well Y/N I think it’s time for my prize”. You couldn’t help but moan
because yes, yes it was time for his prize and you couldn’t wait. He may be oblivious
to many things but damn good sex was not one of them.
MARY DRAKE IS SPENCER’S MOTHER - SPENCER AND CHARLOTTE ARE SISTERS - IN DEPTH ANALYSIS.
WARNING: this is VERY complicated. I emphasise VERY, especially towards the end. We are dealing with an insanely intricate storyline here. Well done PLL writers; this is the detail I’ve been hoping for! I’ve tried to simplify it as best as I can, I hope it is understandable.
701 gave us a LOT of insight into who Mary Drake really is. She is not an evil character! She’s here to take back her daughter; Spencer!
First of all: interesting choice of hair colour by the writers. I know Spencer is blurred in this pic, but that doesn’t hide the instant resemblance between Spencer and Mary that the writers wanted to establish.
a/n: @bangtrashboi and the series still continues on~! lmao i hope everyone is enjoying this as well ^_^ again, i know that idols don’t have time to all of what i have written. it’s basically a fiction for everyone’s enjoyment. XDD
Music recording removals have become a popular thing in the music industry, due to fans working their way with electronics and exploiting singers of being absolutely horrible, who instead lip-syncs to their songs. This has been going on for about a good four year period of time, and only now did some fans with magic computer skills would ace to remove the background noise to depict what’s real.
With that being done, a scandal was largely let out about Seung Hye’s fakeness. An anonymous person have sent in videos where they were able to edit in and out of Seung Hye’s live performances, and handed it over to the press. The media surfaced greatly beyond this work, and the first to blame was you.
why It always bother me when Yashiro states so loudly how he’s a
masochist when he’s as much a sadist. Of course since he is only a
sadist to the person he likes, it’s also masochism since when you
hurts someone you like, 1 you alienate them to you, and it hurts 2
it’s hurts because people empathize more when they love.
basically, here, I will review the manga and points all the little
trap test Yashiro throw to the people he loves and why he does it.
(actually it’s so long that I will cut it in part, don’t know how
many yet and I’ll put it under cut , NOOO PEOPLE DONT RUN AWAY!!!!