hope you guys like it :')

The Romance Arc (Destiel)

So, I know we always say it, but the other day I was finally fed up enough - or weird enough - to decide I’d make a list. And, guys, this is going to be a long-ass post, so if you haven’t got time, here is the tl;dr version: if we look at the love tropes most commonly used to build an onscreen relationship, Dean and Cas score an eye-watering 61/91 - that’s a 67% total.

Now, to put that in perspective - in order to build a romance arc, you’ve got five obligatory stages (meeting each other, falling in love, becoming a couple, a period of conflict, a resolution) and each of these stages will include at least one common trope, more or less hidden according to the kind of media and the author’s intent and sophistication. tvtropes lists a total of 91 tropes, but no love story will ever use them all. That would be ridiculous - either a parody or complete insanity. Think of a story where our lovers were destined to be together and also promised to each other as children and also the reincarnation of past lovers; where they meet by spilling coffee on each other and then she goes on to lose her handkerchief and he picks it up and runs after her to give it back but - whoa - now she’s been attacked by pirates and the hero wants to save her but his king is ordering him not to and oh no, what will he do? That sounds like overkill, right? And it totally is: a story with too many tropes is a ridiculous, unrealistic, unwatchable mess. To give you a better idea of what I mean, if look at those 91 tropes tvtropes lists as possible steps to build a romance arc, Dirty Dancing, one of the most romantic movies ever made, only scores 19 points; 10 Things I Hate about You, another big favourite of mine and an absolute ALL the love, ALL the feels story, scores 16 points. And Jane the Virgin, an actual soap-opera parody on the CW complete with sudden rain and snow to highlight special kisses, scores even lower: 13 points.

Meanwhile, normal friendships between men like Sam and Frodo’s in the Lord of the Rings trilogy or Ted and Marshall’s in How I Met Your Mother score a grand total of zero points - so, yes, it’s perfectly possible to write a non-romantic male friendship even when that friendship is a dramatic I’ll walk with you to the very edge of the Earth and then carry you up the slopes of a dangerous volcano and finally die with you sort of thing. Because, funnily enough, you can be friends with somebody and be ready to die for them without actually having a sexual interest in them. 

(Johnlock scores 29 points.)

(Wincest, 4.)

Something you could be wondering at this point is, why tropes though? Why are tropes a thing, and why does it matter how many tropes Supernatural chooses to use between Dean and Cas? And, look, I’m sure someone else could say it better, but essentially tropes are the bones of a story. Every single story you see out there, from the Odyssey to Torchwood/Gossip Girl crossovers to coffeshop AUs is built out of the same building blocks. There are, like, seven possible plots and about two dozen kinds of characters and maybe two hundred common tropes - and that’s it. Try tagging any classic novel with AO3 tags and you’ll see what I mean. 

[This story is Jules Verne’s fanfiction of an Edgar Allan Poe novel, and, yeah.]

Now, since it’s only possible to build a story in a limited number of ways, the problem all authors face is to find an original way to make it work. Some will use tropes religiously, either because they can’t think of anything different or because they hope a tried-and-tested formula will appeal to readers (see every romance novel under the sun; also most thrillers). Others will make fun of tradition by throwing the tropes back in your face (one of my favourite takes of this is Diana Wynne Jones’ Howl’s Moving Castle). And others will manage to bullshit you so thoroughly and completely you won’t notice the tropes are there until it’s too late - those are the stories where you’re truly surprised and shocked by events and you sit up in bed like a fool gasping out loud and you only stop reading because you need to tell someone asap, You won’t believe what just happened. A good example of this is the ending of the first season of Game of Thrones - we were all so convinced Ned Stark was the hero, filming people who hadn’t read the books as they watched him die became something of a hobby; and many became convinced George RR Martin was this all-powerful deity without any rules (not true: he’s a good writer, however, and he managed to convince most of us Ned was the hero when in reality he was the ‘Dumbledore’ figure - and therefore his death makes perfect sense).

And if we’re talking about Destiel - as I explained in the very first meta I wrote for this fandom (though at the time I hadn’t even realized I was part of a fandom, and didn’t know what a meta even was), I didn’t start to ‘ship’ Dean and Cas out of nefarious reasons, or tedium, or a desire to write smutty fanfiction. In fact, I still don’t consider myself a shipper in any way. I am not particularly interested in romance, and I never go out of my way to see who may be suited for whom. And I’m not saying there’s anything wrong in doing that - just that it’s something I don’t do. If I started to see Destiel and to write about it, it’s because to me (and, apparently, to a lot of other people), it was clear that there was something there; that that was how the story was built. And if I started to look at it more closely, it was simply because my expectations as a viewer were disappointed, and the relationship of trust between author and reader was - for me - crumbling into nothingness. 

And, look, I won’t lie: I was angry and upset by the implications - that there was something wrong with me - that I was trying to force a sexual relationship on two friends just because. That, as a woman, I couldn’t enjoy a story without making it all about the romance. No, I am a huge book nerd, and I like writing stories, and I mostly analyse stuff for a living and I also sort of have eyes? - so, to me, it was clear I was being lied to, and at that moment, I was left in an uncomfortably ambiguous position which will sound familiar to many of you - I was furious at the show, but at the same time I was still in love with the characters (so very much in love). This was a frustrating feeling which presented me with two equally unappealing options - to keep watching and not expect anything, or to walk away. In the end, I tried a third way, which I suspect many of you have chosen as well: I was too invested in these characters to abandon them, but I also wanted this story to be an honest story, so I started complementing it with ‘viewing supports’. I started to read (and write) fanfiction. I looked for fanvideos, fanart and gifs. And, most of all, I fell into the habit of reading (and writing) metas after every episode to make sure what I was seeing was actually there. Because, well, for me - that’s why I write metas about Supernatural when I don’t write metas of other shows I enjoy much more: because most of the time Supernatural is more focused on not telling a story than it is in telling one, which means what we are left with what is a half story where our characters have their own secret life offscreen and many lines of dialogue could mean anything. Ironically enough, Supernatural has become like its hero and POV character, Dean Winchester: a con and a liar and a charmer who tries to be liked by everyone. 

(And let’s not forget the swings both ways thing).

As for the other question - are we crazy? - I’m hoping this post will help clearing things up: no, we are not crazy. The reason we see a romance unfolding is because the relationship between Dean and Cas is written to fit a romance arc - and does fit a romance arc by 67%.

[Longer analysis under the cut.]

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anonymous asked:

Got a bit o'angst for ye in relation to that torture fic you wrote: Lena's mother makes the mistake of taunting Kara about what she did to Lena . Kara kills her in a fit of anger (brutally plz) (with no consequences, since the wretch was wanted dead or alive at this point or whatever anyway after escaping a second time) Lena and Kara talk about it later.

Thanks for the prompt! 


She escapes and Lena feels a cold shill creep up her spine, her hands slipping from Kara’s as she sits up, her back straight as her shoulders tense. She keeps her face aloof, something she had learned from her parents since the moment she was adopted, and excuses herself. She closes the door to their room behind her, Kara’s worried glance following her figure as she disappears further into the room. She’s aware Kara can see her - can probably hear her - when she starts sobbing - screaming -  but Kara stays away, doesn’t come in trying to comfort her, and Lena wonders how she ever lucked out with someone like Kara. Lena doesn’t usually shy away from Kara’s touch, especially after being starved from any for so long, but when she’s as upset as she was now, she feels like she can let herself go when no one is watching, she doesn’t have to worry about what someone else would think about her breaking. So she closes the door and Kara stays out, giving her the sense of privacy that she needs.

She doesn’t come out ‘till her voice is hoarse and she can’t cry anymore tears, but the memory of that night is still playing in her mind like a broken record. She sees the concerned look when Kara spots her, can see the way Kara seems to hold herself back for a few seconds as she examines her before the blonde woman throws herself at Lena, her arms circling around her carefully. 

The warm embrace makes Lena want to cry again, but she just sniffles and lets herself be tugged down onto the sofa. She doesn’t want to think anymore, doesn’t want to remember, so she burrows herself deeper into Kara, grabbing at the other woman’s shirt with a tight grip as if that were the only thing keeping her here.

“We’ll find her, Lena,” Kara says after a few minutes of silence, and Lena can’t help but like the intrusion because the air feels heavy and tense, like she’s choking on air. “I won’t let her hurt you.”

Lena knows that Kara can’t guarantee her that fully, but she understands she would die trying and that seems to scare her more than falling back into the hands of her mother. Lena sits back and lets herself look into Kara’s eyes, watching as Kara’s face seems to harden with determination and anger.

Lena shakes her head, her voice weak, “I don’t want to lose you.”

Kara pulls her back in against her chest, and while the tug is soft, Lena lets herself fall against her her, the heart underneath thumping strongly, comforting in the fact that it reminded her that Kara was really there. Kara’s arms wrap just a little tighter around her shoulders as the Kryptonian seems to shift them into lying down on the couch.

Kara looks up at the ceiling as they lay in silence, not saying anything, just waiting until Lena’s breaths even out. She can’t promise Lena that she’ll be here tomorrow, and she doesn’t feel like voicing her opinion. Instead she lays there a little longer, enjoying Lena’s warm skin against her own.

Kara places the other woman in their room after a few minutes, tucks her underneath the covers, and kisses her forehead before she suits up and flies out the window. She wasn’t going to let Lillian hurt Lena again.


Lillian lets out a sickening laugh, taunting Kara as she stands across from her with a knife made out of kryptonite, the green material glowing sickeningly against her pale skin. The older woman seems to hold a gleam of satisfaction in her eyes as she sees the Kryptonian hesitate, tripping slightly over her own feet before she seems to recover and take a firm stance.

“Give yourself up, Lillian.” Kara yells, her eyes going from Lillian to the knife, calculating what she would do if the woman lunged at her. There’s a sickening churn in her stomach when she hears Lillian tauntingly laugh at her, her head tipping back slightly, letting her guard down on purpose, almost as if she were telling Supergirl she wasn’t afraid of her. 

“Why would I do that? Afraid I’ll go after Lena again?” It’s a challenge, Kara knows this, but at the mention of Lena, Kara feels her anger begin to boil underneath her skin as she tightens her fists. It doesn’t seem to face the eldest Luthor, though, because she doesn’t leave any room for Kara to respond before she’s taunting her again. “You should have seen her. Scared and hopeless, waiting for you to get there, but you were pretty late.”

“I rescued her - you lost!” Kara seethes, the words falling from her mouth with uncontrolled anger as she feels herself shake with rage.

“Yes, but the damage had been done.” Lillian bounces back, foolishly taking a step closer as Kara just watched. “I made sure to tie her up. The serum i put in her neck was rather…violent. It was designed to torture someone from the inside out; taking control of their nervous system first, slowly setting everything up in flames until their heart gave out - well that was the plan at least, until you interrupted all the fun.”

Kara doesn’t move, just watches as she tries to quell the anger she feels, but Lillian doesn’t seem to get that the angrier she gets, the more dangerous she is. 


“She’s your daughter.” Kara spits out, disgust lacing her words as she watches for Lillian’s tell, according to Alex, she had landed a rather hard blow to one of the woman’s knees..

“Was.” Lillian’s eyes seem to darken with hatred at the thought, a scoff escaping her lips before she’s pushed up against a wall, knife knocked out of her hand. She laughs into the cold air, a certain pleasure of breaking someone from such high moral ground making it easier to keep up her game. Kara feels the swirl of emotion in her gut, feels the anger, the pain, the disgust when she sees the satisfies smirk on the older woman’s face, still taunting her - daring her to do something.

“She deserves better than you,” Kara growls, one arm firmly at Lillian’s neck as her other hand holds her head in a choke hold. Lillian notices the hesitance when Kara doesn’t move and in a swift motion, she takes out the secret Kryptonite knife she has in her pant’s pocket. Kara sees it to late, and she moves to the left to somehow have the knife end up in her lower abdomen, the air in her lungs seems to leave her body as she steps back with a shout, starring with wide eyes at the knife sticking out. It weakens her enough to feel her powers lessen, but she hears Lillian laughing again and anger surges through her again, reminded who exactly did this to her.

In a matter of seconds, Lillian has a gash running across her neck, blood seeping out as Kara holds a bloody knife, her breaths labored as she watches the older woman slump to the ground.

All of Kara’s strength seems to leave her as she realizes what she’s done, and despite the pain emitting from her abdomen, she kneels and tries to hold her hands against Lillian’s neck, but the woman tries to push her away, wincing as Kara presses too tightly, feeling a sickening crunch underneath her hands. Scared, Kara lets go and watches as Lillian fades away, her hands covered in blood - a mix of her own and Lillian’s -  and she can’t help but fall against the wall, the pain and the knowledge that she had killed someone on the forefront of her mind.

“Kara!?” She hears Alex yell, her eyes flickering up to see her sister run towards her, Maggie and J’onn behind her. She shakes her head before she starts to see the corners of her eyes start to fade black.

What had she just done?


Lena’s the one hovering this time, her face twisted with concern as Kara notices the tear stained cheeks. There’s a guilt that sits on her heart, it’s weight making it hard to breathe as she waits for Lena to yell at her - to leave her - but it never comes.

Kara sits up and laces her arms around Lena’s shoulders, pulling her closer with hesitance, the feel of the woman’s mother’s throat crushing underneath her hands on the forefront of her mind. She lets Lena go after a few seconds, shaking her head before she looks at her hands, her pale skin clean of any evidence. 

Lena’s hands grab her own and Kara looks up to see teary blue eyes, tears now pulling in her own as she chokes on her sob.

“It’s over,” Lena says, tugging at Kara until she gives in and buries her head into Lena’s neck, remembering not to touch the other woman out of fear. Kara doesn’t say anything, just shakes her head some more until sobs seem to shake her body. She had killed out of anger, she had killed a human with her bare hands, and the possibility that it could happen again seemed to drive Kara to cry harder.

Lena doesn’t move because unlike her, Kara needs touch, needs something to connect her to reality, and Lena understands that Kara regrets ever killing her mother, regrets taking away a life - whether it be good or bad. Alex told her how her mother died, a summary of what Kara had done, and she would be lying if she said she hadn’t been saddened by the news - she had been her mother for the better part of her life - but there had been a sense of relief that coursed through her when she thought about her mother never being around to cause them any harm. She didn’t blame Kara because, if given the opportunity under the right circumstances, she would have done the same.

“I killed her,” Kara whispers into the room, her tears wiped off her face messily as she leans back to stare at Lena. Lena just nods with a small sympathetic smile. Kara seems to brake again at the sight of it, wiping furiously at her cheeks, “I’m so sorry.”

“She hurt you.” Lena says, gritting her teeth as she thinks about the call she had received from Alex a few hours ago. Lena touches at the hole in Kara’s suit, relieved to feel smooth skin underneath, completely healed and scar free.

“There’s no excuse. I-I crushed…” Kara looks away, ashamed as she balls her hands into fists, tucking them behind her back, as if trying to keep them as far away from Lena.

“You tried to help-” Lena excused, but Kara stood, crossing the room as she looked out the glass wall, watching as the other agents moved about their business.

“I shouldn’t have - Alex and J’onn would have been there to catch her if I had just-”

“She would have killed you!” Lena is angry now, her tone firm as she goes to step in front of Kara, “don’t feel guilty for doing something she would have done to you.”

“Lena.” Kara sighs, bowing her head in defeat. Lena had a point there - had it been reversed, Lillian would be plotting her next move with no remorse.

“If you need to hear it,” Lena says, touching Kara’s arm, letting it trail down until their fingers intertwined,  “I forgive you.”

It seems to take the fight out of Kara, her exhaustion full force, as she closes her eyes and tugs Lena closer, her body shaking as she lets herself be held by Lena. The guilt is still there, but she’d do it again, if it meant she’d get to keep Lena and keep her safe, she’d do it again.


Leave a prompt if you wanna!

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“ Tell me you love me,       
         come back and haunt me,
                   oh, and I rush to the start. “ 
   

I may have listened one too many times to a certain opening and all its countless remixes and versions while thinking about my sons like I always do.

Saint Nicholas's Eve

Part one

Holidays in Holland series masterlist

Pairing: Calum & Daphne + Sofie

This is the first installment of seven of the Holidays in Holland series! This is a Calum series specially written for the holidays (as if that wasn’t clear yet). The amazing  Fleur (@lukefightme) gave me some inspiration (as she is my fellow Dutchie) and has offered to make drawings based off the imagines. I really love her for it and appreciate all the effort she’s putting in this to make the series a success.

Some parts of the imagines will be in Dutch, but I’ll put a translation behind it in cursive brackets!

You can see the drawings [here] when they’re posted

I hope you all like this and please give me [feedback] if you’d like!

WC: 978

December 5th, 1:24pm - Alkmaar, the Netherlands

“Mama? Papa?” Calum watched as his wife Daphne stepped into her childhood home for the first time in three years. Sofie, their daughter, held onto her mother tightly, looking at her surroundings bewildered. “Maud? Daan? Ik ben er! Oh en Calum en Sofie natuurlijk ook. (I’m here! Oh and Calum and Sofie too, of course.)

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DEMON. since everyone is having bad days and i don’t know how to help i’ll tell you how my grandma feels about some f/t characters 

grandma: why is she so angry
me: it’s a boy
grandma: she has big eyes
me: b o y
grandma: but she has pink hair
grandma: why would a boy have pink hair
me: pink doesn’t have a gender grandma.

grandma: oh she’s pretty i like her eyes
mom: i think she looks like alyssa
me: in what world
grandma: not with that chest
me: we get i have small boobs
grandma: never where a stripe like that if you’re well endowed

grandma: he has smaller eyes than lucy
grandma: why is he naked
me: he’s kinda a strpper
grandma: O_O
me: not like get paid for stripper, he just throws off his clothes sometimes
grandma: he leaves the underwear on right
me: sometimes
grandma: why would he do that
me: his master did
grandma: his master stripped him?
me: N O

Chapter 17 of Petals on the River has been posted! @ijaat and I hope you enjoy!

https://archiveofourown.org/works/7394560/chapters/20060938

  • Title: Petals on the River
  • Chapter: 17, A Long Expected Party
  • Rating: E (chapter itself is M)
  • Pairings: McHanzo, Reaper 76, Gency, Anahardt, Widowtracer
  • Warnings/Triggers: This chapter has some mild PG-13 sexual content, some cursing, and implied references to violence. Historical AU.
  • Summary: After a long evening talking about their pasts, Hanzo and Jesse have a late morning together.

We’ve finally hit the 100k words mark!!

Day 3: Magnus + bisexuality

Alec wasn’t a fan of raves. Whether they be mundane raves or the ever popular Downworlder raves, he couldn’t stand any of them. They were too loud, too bright, too crowded, and there were way too many eyes that followed him everywhere.

He particularly didn’t like them because of the many many eyes. The ones that scorched so bright that his hands instinctively went to the back of his neck to protect it from the perceived danger. The ones that looked at him with such barely restrained anger that a lesser man would turn around and walk away. And then there were the curious stares. The ones that dissected him, all in the bid to find out what made him so special.

And the reason for all those stares was presently in the middle of the dance floor, moving with such sensuous grace that Alec had to adjust himself because damn, Magnus Bane could move.

Magnus caught his eye from the middle of the dance floor and sent him such a beautiful, happy, blinding smile that Alec was unable to do anything but smile back. Magnus gave a satisfied grin and went back to dancing with the seelie that had joined him on the floor.

“What does he see in you?”

The words were hissed at him and Alec turned to meet their stony glares. One male warlock and two female vampires. They wavered between watching Magnus dance –and who wouldn’t when he was moving like that– and glaring at Alec. Their expressions subtly shifted as well. From the barely disguised lust as they watched Magnus do a shimmy that had even the saliva in Alec’s mouth drying up, to resentment that Alec was the one who got that opportunity, the sole opportunity to touch and taste and stare and have, to anger because they needed to lash out that Alec was chosen, to fear because they knew that should they do so, Magnus would eviscerate them. And so there they stood, wavering between emotions, trying to puzzle out why he was the lucky one. One warlock and two vampires. One man and two women, just a small representation of the hundreds, male and female, would who give anything for a chance to be with Magnus Bane. To call Magnus Bane theirs. To own his heart.

Unfortunately for them, the bisexual warlock had already chosen. And as Alec watched his boyfriend sweep through the dance floor, body undulating in tandem to the beat, he allowed himself to give a little smile. He might not be able to stand raves. But he took satisfaction that whilst they were there, people would stare at Magnus with want and at him with jealousy, and it didn’t matter if they were men or women. They might have had a chance with Magnus in the past. But this was the present and Magnus Bane was all his and Alec derived satisfaction in seeing their jealousy.

Did that make him wicked?

Alec raised a glass in a toast to Magnus’ dancing when Magnus turned around and caught his eye. Magnus winked and Alec smiled.

Well, he was dating a half demon after all. Only idiots would think him kind.

Windows Chapter 8

This chapter has intimacy. Sorry this took so long. I struggled to write this chapter a lot. I apologise for any choppiness that might occur. Feel free to give me pointers, I might go back to add or edit later. Thank you.

We hadn’t moved from my couch for at least an hour. There wasn’t anything particularly interesting for us to watch on tv, but it didn’t seem to matter to either of us. I was comfortably tugged into Harry’s side and he had his arm around me in a way that suggested we were used to this.

“Can I ask you something?” Harry asked me in a quiet voice like he was afraid to upset the comfortable bubble we were in.

“Of course,” I murmured, glancing up at him, “Anything.”

Harry took a breath, which made me wonder what was coming, because he seemed nervous. “What you said earlier, about never having been touched, about uncharted waters… was that by choice?”

Now it was my turn to take a breath. I chewed on my bottom lip as I searched for the truth in the back of my mind, because it wasn’t quite as straightforward as that. I pursed my lips and pressed them into a line before replying, settling on an answer that wasn’t confirmation nor denial. “A little?” But I knew that wasn’t enough. “I never got close enough to someone, never let them come close enough, rather, to have to cross that bridge. And I know for some people, it’s not that big of a deal. Sex. Intimacy. All the more power to them. But it is for me.”

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That Tickles

After the show, she had asked a passing member of the stage crew to direct her where the toilets were. She thought it was a little weird how he looked at her for a moment and became a little too enthusiastic when telling her where to go.

This is some prank, she thought as she was finally trying to make her way out of the venue, but for some reason she couldn’t remember which corridor she went down, and thus blamed it on the crew guy instead of her own defective memory.

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