tentative hope

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This looks good, but I am terrified. I don’t want something good snatched away and made awful because they made Steve Trevor bad. Please, please, please let it be original Steve Trevor and not patriarchal creep Steve Trevor.

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When your girlfriend leaves for a week and you’re kind of bad at surprises, you pitch a tent in her apartment and hope she doesn’t get mad 🙃

Some rebelcaptain fic recs

As per my confession last night, yes, I am officially rebelcaptain trash.  This means, as well as writing a load of my own stuff, I have been having fun exploring the vast mine of glory that is AO3, where the rebelcaptain theme is a rich lode. 

So here are some recommendations, from among the many very fine stories I’ve read there recently:

I’ll start with the most painful ones;

And now what? by stainhermouthred is an incredibly angsty they-survived-but one-shot to really chew you up.

all the rest by tomorrowsrain is another they-survived-but piece and is also incredibly angsty and painful, a long short story that will break your heart (be warned, this includes mentions of torture and the aftermath of torture).

sometimes you don’t get it right by randomdreamer01 is a they-survived-but story with buckets of angst and a bare smidgen of tentative hope, plus a terrific appearance by a favourite A New Hope character.

Then I’ll follow you (into the dark) by guineapiggie is a canon-compliant one-shot, and a total weepie

Horizon bright with light by rosaxx50 is a Cassian’s pov one-shot, canon-compliant, which manages to make Jyn and Cassian’s fate even more upsetting

In another life by onceinabluemoon13; in her last moments, Jyn imagines what might have been.

If they had lived by Jaded does the same sort of thing (as you might guess frm the title) and is short but beautiful.  In a gonna-have-a-good-cry sort of way.

Trust in the Force by jenniferjun1per is another “what might have been” story, this one with a hint of a multiverse theme to it; it reminds me a bit of Nick Payne’s wonderful play “Constellations”…

Let it happen by Lafayette1777 is a single-kiss story, short and very bittersweet.

A deeper connection by AlexielMihawkENG is a little one-shot with Cassian accepting his feelings and knowing they’re on a suicide mission, and K-2 being sarky; it has some typos but it’s worth ignoring them for the great character stuff for both Cassian and K. 

Then, getting slightly less angst-y;

The quiet we hold by ithacas is a fairly long Cassian’s pov story of aftermath and recovery, and it’s beautiful and bittersweet and lump-in-the-throat-y.

A person can be a home by mollivanders is a very nice piece of fix-it with bittersweet overtones, as Jyn and Cassian work through their insecurities and gradually allow themselves to admit how deep their feelings are. Bonus points for lovely Bodhi.

Hope by jynscassian is a lovely silly one-shot AU, funny and fluffy and romantic; one of a series called RebelCaptain Drabbles.

Caught in the act by jeeno2 is another lovely one-shot, funny and sexy and with K-2 for bonus snark; part of a series called Rebelcaptain stories - some fluffy, some romantic, some humourous, some angsty…

Crackle by Irelando is a gorgeous piece of romantic sexy stuff, part of a short series called The Light which also contains a terrific K-2 pov story.

And finally (because sorry, this has turned out rather a long list):

Two terrific chapter fics, both as yet (as of 8 Feb) unfinished;

Floating, sinking by shuofthewind is a brilliantly-well-written and plotted fix-it that carries our heroes (all of them) from Rogue One on into the events of A New Hope; dramatic and gripping, with very good characterisations, an excellent alternative plot, and appearances by a whole bunch of canon favourites.

And the superb

Resistance is built on Hope by ChronicOlicity, which is quite simply the best historical AU I’ve ever come across.  It’s set in occupied France in 1940, and the period detail and dialogue are marvellous, as is the paralleling of the storylines.  K-2 as a sarcastic British SOE agent is simply wonderful.

Even when she slips and links up with her old beau again, Harley’s his equal partner in crime, and not some eager-to-please hench-wench of old. That’s not a reformation by a long shot, but it’s a tentatively hopeful step in a debatably right direction. And if there’s hope for Harley Quinn, then there’s hope for the mad lovers in us all.
—  Paul Dini on Harley Quinn in Mad Love
  • blizzard: we want the gay characters to happen naturally
  • blizzard: *is slowly releasing junker material that seems to indicate an increasingly open warm relationship*
  • me: *tentatively allows hope to grow in my cold and icy gay heart once again*

let’s play

pairing: teruhina
words: 942
rating: teen and up

for the @haikyuurarepairweekend
day 1
prompt: wicked (v loosely lol)

read on AO3

Shouyou was used to tall and handsome. He was used to smirks and narrowed, gleaming eyes. He was used to Oikawa’s cheeky nature and Kuroo’s smooth compliments. He was used to it all, and yet… He was in no way prepared for the storm that was Terushima Yuuji.

They first met in Shouyou’s first year, but he didn’t put much weight behind that meeting. It was brief and not enough to pick his interest in the slightest. The match they played later was something Shouyou remembered more clearly, but even that, with time, got lost in the sea of different opponents he had to face back then. They hadn’t played against each other in Shouyou’s second year, Jouzenji lost before they could cross paths, and even though Shouyou was disappointed about it for a while, he had to switch gears and focus on the teams right before him.

And then they have never seen each other again. Or so Shouyou would’ve liked to say.

He had graduated high school, got into college with Kageyama, their partnership growing stronger than ever, and everything would’ve been perfect except… Oikawa was his senpai. Kuroo shared an apartment with Bokuto right across from the flat Shouyou was renting a room at. And by the time he started his second year at university, Shouyou was subjected to their antics long enough to develop a certain resistance to their teasing and smirks, and inappropriate sexual innuendos.

All of it, however, seemed to have disappeared that one afternoon, when right after his last class of the day he stopped by the nearby coffee shop, only to bump nose-first into Terushima Yuuji’s hard, broad chest.

Keep reading

With Me

Will lingered in the hallway, watching the firelight lick over Hannibal’s arms, his face, the book in his hands. He made no motion, did not go to him and sit beside him on the sofa. He stood, breath held tight, wrestling with himself. He wanted to go sit there, but-

“Will,” Hannibal’s eyes looked up, then flicked towards him, turning his head to find him in the doorway, “come, sit down.”

And he’d been trying so hard to avoid detection, standing down wind and everything. Still, Hannibal had invited him, no point resisting now. He stepped forward gingerly, making his way consciously into the room. Here came the tricky part.

There were many seats to choose from, a sturdy rocking chair, a winged arm chair with its own ottoman, and the sofa, of course. Without looking too deliberate, too tense, without warning Hannibal, he hoped, he measured his steps and sat down next to Hannibal. He sighed with the cushions, making himself lean back in the posture of relaxation and stared into the heart of the fire, unblinking. He felt Hannibal start, pause, felt his eyes skip over the page, onto him, then back, afraid of being noticed for his watching.

“What’re you reading?” Will asked when he was sure Hannibal had read the page fifty times but not taken in a word of it.

Hannibal’s fingers hesitated over the page, trying to read for him. “The Rubáiyát of Omar Khayyám,” he let the pages fall open towards Will, “In translation, unfortunately. I plan to learn Persian to read it properly.”

“All that for a book of poetry?” Will mused, tilting his head back.

“It is beautiful,” Hannibal explained, “and deserves to be understood in its native tongue.”

Will nodded thoughtfully, “Well, that’s one project for the future.” He winced; they hadn’t discussed the future yet. At all.

“Yes…” Hannibal hesitated, feeling the elephant in the room, “if I find myself with enough time on my hands to-” He silenced abruptly as Will’s arm came down around his shoulders.

Will gulped, feeling like a high schooler on his first date, all stilted movements and anxious energy. Keep calm, relax; it wasn’t as though they weren’t both mature adults who had done this a million times before with other consenting adults. There should be no problem, no awkwardness, and yet… his heart beat in his throat like a bird thrashing at its cage.

Cautiously, Will stroked his thumb against Hannibal’s shoulder, almost to remind himself it was there, real and solid. Hannibal jumped, nearly dropping his book, “Will, your arm-” he fumbled, trying to turn to Will without turning in to Will and finding the proximity made this almost impossible. To look him in the eye he’d have to get closer.

“I’m nearly healed,” Will swallowed, his voice sounding high and foreign, “besides I should be stretching it anyway, so I’m not so sore. So the muscles… heal the… the way they’re supposed to.” He tried not to watch Hannibal, curving into him, pressing against him. He tried to focus on the fire as Hannibal gave in to the position Will had put them in with the softest sigh. It couldn’t be done.

Hannibal turned his head to reply and found his cheek brushing against Will’s shoulder. His eyes closed instantly, his lungs involuntarily inhaling. Will felt his bicep tense with nerves, there was a painful yank at the still closing wound, but he gave no sign of pain, transfixed on Hannibal.

“Physical therapy,” Hannibal returned abruptly, lifting his cheek, voice rough and low, “will be the hardest part of the healing process. It will be… lengthy and very painful for some time.” He licked his lips, trying to open his eyes all the way and failing, “You should still be resting.”

“I can sit here.” Will felt his hand come around Hannibal’s shoulder, palm flat against his arm. His body decided before he did that he wanted Hannibal closer.

“Could we… just… come here,” he mumbled, squeezing Hannibal to him with one long pull.

Hannibal’s last restraints broke. Before Will knew it he felt arms wrapped around him and a face pressed into his collar. Stunned, he put both arms around Hannibal and held him. Hannibal fit into him like a warm, heavy blanket, pressing against him everywhere he felt lonely. Though he’d been alone, he’d never felt lonely… until Hannibal. Only made sense that being with Hannibal could soothe that ache, maybe the only thing that might.

Hannibal’s hands skirted the edges of his bandages, wary of pressing too much, of being too much. Yet, he held tight, squirmed half into Will’s lap, as close as he could possibly get. Will could feel his heart beat, a skittering patter in reckless time, and he was sure Hannibal had no idea Will knew about it. The moment reeked of desperation, and yet… his arm curled tighter around Hannibal. And yet he pressed closer and yearned to feel Hannibal melt against him, melt completely.

Hannibal gave, he shuddered, he kept perfectly silent, but he shook like a leaf. Will held him close and never once thought about letting go. Hannibal gave so beautifully, he pushed and melted and succumbed so perfectly in his arms. This… this was nice. It was actually… really nice, holding Hannibal. He hadn’t expected that.

Will let his head fall against Hannibal’s, let himself breathe in his hair, press skin to skin, rest together like this. He listened to Hannibal breathe and slowly their breaths fell together. He lost track of time and was on the point of sleep when Hannibal murmured something in his ear.

“Whuh?”

“The fire’s all but gone, we should go to bed.”

The words struck a bell and cracked Will’s eyes open. He was still holding onto Hannibal, smushed together in one corner of the couch. “N-No, don’t go,” his voice croaked, groggy. The implications of it didn’t register immediately, too tired to remember to care too little.

Hannibal paused. “I won’t. But wait here, I’ll get some blankets.” His legs hit the floor and he slowly rose, untangling himself from Will’s arms with unfair grace. Will whimpered, freezing where his Hannibal blanket had been. He closed his eyes and curled onto the sofa completely.

Hannibal returned. He knew he returned because he felt warm again, he felt welcome pressure and weight on the sofa, covering him, slipping up beside him and into his waiting arms. Will’s lips lifted, pleased to be embracing Hannibal once again.

“You’ll regret sleeping like this in the morning,” Hannibal muttered into his chest.

“Won’t,” Will grumbled, one hand stroking idly at Hannibal’s back.

“We could sleep on the bed… still together.”

Will heard the request in his pause. His arms tightened, “Too tired. Drag me to bed tomorrow.” And he hunkered down, pulled Hannibal close, and silenced him for the night with a kiss.

betyermsb ha respondido a tu foto “Sometimes I really wonder what the hell CW is paying their marketing…”

The thing is, it isn’t like they can just change everything now. The episodes are written and/or filmed. Things are set for the season. They can see this feedback and adjust for the last few episodes or for next season. But for now, we are kind of of the ride.

Yeah, I know, and that part of it is frustrating. I am still tentatively hopeful that there’s going to be some kind of payoff for … whatever the heck they’ve been doing, but the disappointing thing is that they haven’t signaled one way or the other what the point of this entire season’s “character journey” is supposed to be – for either character involved. And this is a show that hates letting conflicts linger unresolved for more than two episodes, and that telegraphed that Mon-El was actually the prince like … thirteen episodes ago. Yet we’ve had entire episodes go by that don’t advance the plot or character arcs at all, when last season they burned through storylines at breakneck speed.

When you consider the millions of dollars involved in these production choices, that kind of mismanagement of your storylines and narrative framing is just straight-up weird.

So to me that reads as a byproduct of executive meddling, because I watched the season in reverse when I did the data collection on gender & speaking time, and you could clearly see the tone shift back to “enjoyable” when you crossed the line between episode 9 and everything created before their first hiatus as a CW show.

(That’s not the only reason they’re having problems – characterization this season has been inexplicably flat and trading on our goodwill and love for the relationships and character work they did in S1 instead of pushing any of those dynamics further in meaningful ways. Like. This was the thing that made this show stand out and receive critical praise in its first season? I am so confused.)

so my luna arrived in dallas and was shipped out………….at 9pm last night? so like??????? guys???????? are you feeling ok???? it shouldn’t take you almost 18 hours to travel from dallas to here it’s literally only an hour away. also WHY AT 9PM???? i’m going to call bullshit while remaining tentatively hopeful that i’m just worrying over nothing.

shiro-hunter  asked:

They say Perfect Chronology is gonna feature 'new scenario' (and there IS a new character in the box art as well;;;), what are your thoughts about it and do you think they'll really change the whole Heiss and Stocke thing?

If they screw up my dysfunctional royalty, I will… I don’t know, put a curse on them through the power of my outrage, or something. But I highly doubt they’ll change anything as crucial to the game as “the villain’s entire motivation.” I think the worst-case scenario here would be something like Marie from Persona 4G, where they shoehorn in New Lady as ~totes~ critical to the magical side of the plot and she just never came up for reasons. (And even then she still won’t be as bad as Marie, since she’s partitioned off into her own little sub-scenario rather than being there ALL THE TIME shoving bad poetry in your face.)

I am tentatively hopeful that the fact that she has a ship means we’ll get to see a bit of the world outside Vainqueur/its place in the world, and there is a lot of stuff on the magical and historical side of things that they could dig deeper into. Like I said before, the main things I want are worldbuilding and patricide. :::PPP

Cyrus had always loved the quiet of the wilderness. Being so close to a national park he felt spoiled. How long had he spent in places with just grass fields and dry deserts? True, Nevada wasn’t the ideal place for forestry, but Echo provided a little hamlet. Maybe it was the wolf in him that liked it so much, but the omega found peace among the trees, with the feel of the dirt beneath bare feet, and the distant sound of the lake lapping at the shore.

It was even better with good company. He glanced over at Sawyer who was busy settling into the site, and Cyrus was more than happy to lend a hand. The equipment was set out, nearly done. Cyrus himself was busying himself putting the stove together, the instructions still folded in the box. It was a camping stove, not a NASA rocket. “How’s the tent coming? I hope all the pieces are there, I usually just sleep on a cot in the open. It’s been a while.” Twisting a screw in place he propped the back of the stove up, now finished, gazing at his handiwork before he stood up to help the alpha.

Sawyer was nice enough to invite him, he figured he should at least be helpful.

@deputylincoln

Can we take a moment to talk about the track Yuri on ICE?

Because this song is so emotional for me. It is a beautiful journey and when you pair that journey with the meaningful title and the basis of the show it just… makes this whole package that I can’t even begin to describe.

The song starts quick, fluttering, and almost wondrous. Tentative, but hopeful. But then it begins to gain confidence and while the wondrous tone continues underneath it is building. There is something else there coming through. Getting stronger and stronger. And the wondrous notes begin to change. They lose some of that fluttering feels and just become strong and confident. It all builds and builds, joyful.

And then it slows. It becomes so sincere. For a moment it is tentative again. You can almost hear the confession in those soft, solitary notes. But they aren’t scared, just a bit shy. And quickly again they build up. Happy, and strong. Uplifting. The music feels so certain and powerful. Like it’s found exactly what it was looking for in those tentative moments. The bass notes so much more forceful, joining in the song outright instead of just supporting. As though that hope from the beginning has been finally brought to full fruition. As though you can hear Victor at his side as an equal and not just an influence.

And it winds down, not somberly, but comfortably. It feels warm. Like after this journey, it has found a home.

And that is Yuri on ICE. That is Yuuri’s Love.

It is no longer the song of his skating career, but of his heart.

And I think that means a lot.

Anyway, I killed the ogre from the Nashkel Fair (=Carnival), the witch-slaughtering mage, and the bounty hunter from Nashkel.

And, like, twenty of kobolds.

Also, there is a dude at the Carnival who just straight up stole my gold and left a tent. I reloaded, hoping I could kill him while he was approaching me. Lol, nope. So I reloaded again and went back on track.

Yeah, right, “back on track”; turns out I’m a bit too weak to go to the freaking Mines.

Also, Branwen’s level up became the most underwhelming. I couldn’t change shit.

And she keeps on giving the same compliment to Ajantis: “You’re a good warrior, and I respect you for that.” They never say a thing about her fighting skills. Boo.

Ah, this game. It’s definitely something.

(Aww, yiss, those robes.)