their futures were stolen

Analysis of the New Video

I made a couple posts as I watched the video, but let me do a full thing:

- Thomas really doesn’t like change, so his solution is to try and change his personality? There’s something more than an aversion to change there.

- Change ‘confuses the heart’ but Morality seems less confused and more downright forgetful and out of place. It’s almost like his identity is incredibly tied to where he is and who he’s with, and change upsets that.

- Morality confuses average with both beverage and avalanche. He and Thomas make mistakes with words and what they mean a lot.

- Morality really loves Logan.

- I’ve seen touch starved Anxiety, but consider: Touch starved Morality.

- Anxiety fills up way more of the frame than usual, and it feels intentional. Even as Thomas’ friends, he’s much, much closer to the camera and the audience.

- As always, Morality is so happy to see Anxiety. Don’t think about how he’s the only one who smiles at Anxiety. Don’t think about how Anxiety only pops up in videos anymore so that Morality will smile at him and make him feel at least a little better.

- Anxiety being vague in his paranoia is so true to real life anxiety

- Anxiety really cares about Thomas’ friends and keeping those relationships, and mentions offhandedly how much they help him, Anxiety, personally. Don’t think about how they’re nicer to him than Logic and Prince.

- Logic and Princey are fighting again, even though they’re supposedly working together. There’s a definite rivalry there, and I want to see it explored at some point.

- Anxiety doesn’t like being changed to look like Thomas’ friends. Don’t think about how it makes him feel replaced. Don’t think about how it makes him feel like they all want him to change because no one likes him.

- Morality thinks Joan is adorable and I’m living for it.

- LOGAN MADE A DAD JOKE! This is what we call character development.

- Roman is very defensive about his masculinity. Don’t think about if it’s because of being harassed when he was younger for being too flamboyant. 

- Morality really likes Danny Devito and I feel like there’s a story there.

- Joan looks really cute in Thomas’ clothes.

- Prince apparently uses his ‘best material’ on those nicknames for Anxiety. Does he lie awake at night thinking up nicknames?

- All the puns based off of names… Logan acts like this is new, so Morality hasn’t made these types of jokes before. Why?

- Patton Pending

- I forgot to mention it earlier, but Morality making an Ass joke and playing it off… dirty boy

- Anxiety knows this is a bad idea from the start but why doesn’t he sink out? He’s sticking around for something maybe for another smile from Morality?

- Logan really, really has an issue with Prince, even more so than usual. Again, I want to see this getting played out in a future episode.

- Anxiety’s words were stolen and that made him upset, but no one else seemed to care that much. Do they often take his ideas and thoughts and present them as their own?

- Anxiety really likes his bangs because he can hide his eyes behind them and pretend he’s not hurt

- No one seems to take Anxiety and his feelings into account. In the Negative Thinking video and the Q & A video and this one, there was a situation where Anxiety was put on the spot and asked his name. This wasn’t done to any of the others and it looks like his comfort zone is often disregarded when it comes to opening up.

- Turning into Talyn was Anxiety’s way of deflecting because he doesn’t want to share his name when they’re all pressuring him. He’ll share it when he’s ready and he wants that made very clear.

- “You take turns turning me into different friends today and expect me to open up to you? Fat chance.”

- Morality and Anxiety always seem to have each other’s backs. Don’t think about the fact that it could be because Logic and Prince ignore/disregard/mock them a lot.

- Thomas likes them all the way they are, but they don’t like each other as they are.

- Take it easy, guys, gals, and nonbinary pals.

BONUS:  Anxiety knows how the costume affects Prince’s butt because he looks at it apparently

People say they gunned her down because of her faith.
I don’t know if that’s true or not
I just know that crime they committed was terrible and great.

Everyone still remembers them and continues to debate
Whether or not if they killed her because of her love for Jesus
And what she had to say.
But why does that matter to this day?
They were children who lost their lives
And never saw the beginning of May.

I wish Columbine was never a thing
And those fifteen souls were still here.
But sadly it was and they’re gone
And their families are still sore and distraught.
Because people were torn apart and futures were stolen.
And those kids would’ve been mothers and fathers.
Except two of them will always be remembered as Jesus-hating murdereous monsters.

While I’ll never condone Eric or Dylan’s actions
I wish the world remembered them for who they really were
Despite what occurred.

Eric was a brilliant boy who was outspoken and bright.
A wild child with a prankster’s smile.
With a laugh more precious than gold.
I don’t believe that he was a psychopath with a heart so cold.
He was someone with potential that was clear to see.
Who just grew up too fast
Who should’ve used his talents
To progress in life-changing positivity.

Dylan was that quiet giant with the sun in his hair.
With the most fucked up humour
And a vulnerable heart who secretly cared.
The one who craved love
Who was crazy fast when he’d run.
A boy who just wanted to be a boy
To stop suffering and have fun.

Those are the two that I want the world
To remember and forgive.
Not the ones who asked a girl if she believes in God or not.
Because despite their lack of faith,
We’ll never know what she said that day.
I’d like to believe that if
Rachel was alive or survived today
She’d forgive her trespassers
And show them compassion and grace.

— 

“The Saint and the Broken (Part Two)”

s.g.b. (7.16.17)

Yahoo Hacked Again: Latest breach said to affect more than 1 billion accounts

  • Yahoo confirmed Wednesday that they have discovered a data breach that occurred in 2013 that may have affected up to 1 billion users.
  • The breach is the largest ever based on the number of accounts it reached, according to NBC News.
  • This is the second time in three months that the company has had to announce a large-scale hack.
  • In September, the company revealed that more than 500 million accounts were stolen in 2014. Read more

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Muke: Aquarelle

Water splashed from a old chipped teacup as Luke dipped his paintbrush in, swirling it around to wash off the red watercolour. It stained the raggedy white sheet beneath it a purplish hue and when Luke dried the brush a few faded red streaks marred the cloth.

He could hear Michael rustling through the newspaper, mumbling beneath his breath at how lame the funnies were and the shitty state of the world. He dipped his brush into the blue and slid it across the papyrus, carefully .

Quite frankly, he hated water-colouring but Michael absolutely loved it, and Luke just couldn’t say no. It was easier to use oil paints and gave Luke more time to figure out the shades he would use, not to mention more time for him to mix the paints with turpentine for a glossier look.

The water in the teacup slowly turned an earthy green. Luke took the cup to the sink and washed it out before filling it with fresh water and bringing it back to his working area in the corner of the kitchen by the oversized bay window. He had a view of the street below and the cherry blossom trees that lined the pavement. The sunlight was bright coming in, enough that taking a picture of the easel and watercolour set with the window backing it was enough to be considered art.

It was Luke’s favourite place in the flat and he spent a majority of his time there, whether painting or sketching out a measly landscape he’d never colour. Michael was usually in the kitchen too, mainly cooking or reading the newspaper. They didn’t have a television and the computer was slow, enough that Luke had almost given up on the clunk of metal.

It was nice though, the silence that was only broken by music and talking.

Luke sighed, glancing over at Michael who was poring over a cookbook, eyebrows furrowed in concentration. Luke liked when Michael was in the mood to cook, it meant long nights of strange foods and candle lit dinners, and probably with some footsies under the table.

He closed his watercolour set and cleaned off the numerous paint brushes spread out on the sheet, making sure to clean the bottoms of the bristles for any hidden colour. The painting itself wasn’t quite finished but Luke was. He liked to step back from the art for a few days and rework his thoughts of what the piece should look like, it gave him a greater understanding of what he wanted out of the papyrus and paints.

Michael made a soft noise, almost a hum of approval and Luke turned to look at him. He was staring at the artwork, slowly digesting every inch of the papyrus canvas and its many colours. Michael was Luke’s biggest critic, but everything was said with a gentle easing because Luke wasn’t perfect and sometimes his art wasn’t up to par.

Still, every piece of Luke’s work that they’d kept was shown throughout the house, leaving behind a splash of colour in the otherwise dark rooms.

Luke had wanted to paint them pastel colours, things that was warm and cool at the same time and made people feel comfortable, but Michael had wanted dark rooms that gave off an extra warmth in the bitter winter months, and of course, Luke didn’t bother arguing.

“What do you feel like tonight?” Michael asked closing the cookbook and sighing.

Luke turned to look at him again. The older boy looked bored, probably because he wasn’t actually making anything yet. He shrugged and dried off the brushes, placing them on the sheet, pink dampness spreading around the bristles. “Anything’s fine.”

Michael sighed, moving about the kitchen and gathering the various items needed for whatever he was preparing. Luke sat down, watching him. He loved when Michael cooked, like absolutely adored it; the way he was everywhere at once and had every inch of the kitchen covered in ingredients and utensils. The best though was when he was baking; there was always flour everywhere and loud classical music playing. Luke loved coming up the drive hearing Mozart blasting from the open kitchen window, and it was almost too cute finding Michael working ever so swiftly at the treat.

“Clean up your brushes.” Michael hated when Luke left a mess and was always on his back about leaving his supplies strewn around the kitchen. He swore that Luke did it just to annoy him and the younger boy always denied it with a small pout, but both knew he was lazy and forgetful.

Luke reached for the brushes, fingertips almost touching the wooden ends. He gave a loud huff and shrugged in Michael’s direction. “Can’t reach.”

Michael shot him a dry look. “I’m not impressed, clean up your shit and wash your brushes better. I’m not running out for you again because you need new ones.”

He did that a lot and liked to think it was a minor setback because all artists had a weak point and Luke’s just happened to be his ability to clean the brushes to max perfection. Michael called bullshit the second time Luke pleaded with him at eight in the morning to run to the hobby store a few blocks away and pick him up three #14 angular flat brushes and a #2 spotter. Luke liked when Michael got mad early in the morning. He would flop around in the bed, throwing covers in every direction before slipping his feet into his slippers and go into the bathroom to get ready.

Luke always had a cup of coffee ready for his boyfriend because Michael without coffee at eight in the morning was a recipe for disaster that Luke really didn’t want to deal with. Michael would grumble and whine about being awake before the sun was even fully up but he’d kiss Luke on the cheek softly and sometimes slap his ass, depending on how good the coffee was (Luke was absolute shit at brewing a good cup) before making his way out of the house.

He felt Michael’s hands on his shoulders, rubbing slowly. Michael probably thought Luke was in that spaced out zone he fell into sometimes when he got too caught up in his work. It was a reflex for Luke to lean into Michael’s touch, the soft hands and gentle fingertips that warmed him up and drove him back to the present.

~~~

They had an agreement that whoever didn’t cook had to do the dishes; which meant Luke did them every night with the lavender dish wash and a checkered cloth. Michael always dried, chattering on about recipes he wanted to try and discussing Luke’s newest pieces.

Nights were quiet for the most part. Michael played his classical music at a lower volume, but nonetheless it played, and Luke would read a book or sketch out a rough idea of something he’d want to do in the future. And then, there were the loud nights with rough touches and stolen kisses. They were Luke’s favourite.
Luke liked to wear Michael’s shirts because he always bought two sizes too big and the fabric pooled around Luke’s thighs effortlessly. He looked like a swallowed up little thing with floppy blond hair that begged to be tamed and long, pale legs that probably belonged on a flamingo or some other sort of wild bird that sucked at walking. Michael seemed to enjoy seeing Luke in his clothes too, which was a huge plus because a happy Michael meant loads of affection, and Luke loved affection.

“Really, Luke?” Michael raised an eyebrow in mock annoyance. He was under the blankets covering the bed, torso bathed in the soft yellow of the light on the nightstand as he read a book with a worn out cover.

Luke shrugged, a shy smile playing at his lips. He stood in the doorway of the room, one of Michaels black shirts, a brand new one to be exact, hanging on his body loosely. He knew what Michael saw; a gangly blond boy with bright blue eyes and cuddling arms, and he knew the older boy, no matter the fact Michael hadn’t gotten to wear the shirt yet, wasn’t all too bothered by the way Luke stood against the doorframe with a smile on his face, almost begging for attention.

He shuffled across the room and climbed onto the bed. Michael sat his book down on the nightstand as Luke laid his head on Michaels chest. He could hear the older boys heartbeat, the steady ‘thump thump’ was soothing. It made Luke relax into Michaels body, arms going to his waist and squeezing.

Michael ran his fingers through Luke’s hair, brushing the messy strands from his face softly. His hand drifted down Luke’s shoulders, rubbing at his neck and shoulders, massaging the tension from Luke’s body completely.

Luke could feel the tips of his fingers dancing along the hem of the shirt he had on, brushing the skin of his thighs ever so lightly. It was teasing and Luke’s body gave a soft shiver at the gesture. He loved when Michael was soft with him, taking his time to embrace every inch of Luke’s body, the way his hips were narrow and sharp, and bruised easily when he stumbled into the corners of things, and how he had a few freckles decorating the skin of his stomach. Michael liked to play with the freckles, connecting them with his fingers when Luke lay next to him in the middle of the night, their breaths soft and shallow, and their eyes slipping shut.

His legs were pressed against the warmth of Michaels and he quickly attempted to tangle them up.

Michaels hand slowly drifted up the back of Luke’s shirt. He trailed his fingers up Luke’s thighs, feeling the prickly goosebumps Luke knew were there. Michael cupped Luke’s ass softly, pushing the cheeks up and Luke sighed. He always sighed when Michael finally touched him, probably because he was relieved the older boy had finally done something more than drag his fingers up the expanse of Luke’s back.

It was quiet in the room and Luke wished for music, something to distract him from the faint feeling of Michaels hands making their way to his hips, pinching at the sharp bone beneath a pale layer of skin.

His neck hairs stood on end at the soft caresses. Michael’s touch was gentle and soothing, and he took his time. The shirt was pushed up on his body, leaving his back bare to the cool air in the room and Michael’s hands warming his skin. Michael had his one hand clutching Luke’s shirt tightly, bunching up the cotton material near the nape of his neck.

Luke turned his head so he was looking at Michael. He could feel Michael’s chest rising and falling with each breath he took. Michael stared at him with big green eyes, his hand stroking over Luke’s hipbone softly. “What?”

“Nothing.” Luke breathed. He shuffled his body up, almost nose to nose with Michael now. “I just… you’re so lovely.”

Michael rolled his eyes, smiling. He leaned up and pressed a kiss to the corner of Luke’s mouth. “You’re adorable, shut up.”

Luke squirmed around a bit. He could smell the faint scent of soap clinging to Michaels skin. It was one of his favourite scents after the older boys aftershave and deodorant. His eyelids were heavy and he let out a small yawn, untangling his arms from around Michaels torso to rub at his eyes.

The sound of a car beeping outside was the only noise Luke heard for a while. He liked the quiet though. It was something he was used to and it was just pleasant overall.

Luke struggled to get comfortable before Michael grunted and rolled them so Luke was plastered to his side. He could still hear Michaels heartbeat and feel his breathing patterns but he was ten times more comfortable and was able to pull the blankets over his own body.

He watched as Michael sat up and turned the light off. Luke missed the warm softness of his chest under his face. Michael shuffled around the room, moving things out of the way in case like got up in the middle of the night (he was a complete idiot in the dark and Michael probably didn’t want to have to get up in the early morning to pry Luke off the floor) before climbing back into bed. He chuckled when Luke pressed up against his side, arms resting on his stomach.

~~~

It was still dark out; the sun wasn’t even peeking over the horizon when Luke woke up. He looked to Michael who was sleeping, mouth open and face soft.

He didn’t want to wake his boyfriend, he knew how Michael got when woken, especially this early in the morning. But god, he was so hard and Michaels hand had been tight on his ass, he couldn’t help himself when he poked the older boys side.

Michael didn’t even stir, not that Luke was surprised. He continued to nudge the boy until he let out a soft murmur. Luke squirmed around, knees knocking Michaels.

“What the hell do you want?” Michael slurred out the words, voice heavy with sleep.

Luke pouted, taking Michaels hand in his. He ran the older boys fingers up under his shirt along his tummy. Michael let out a sound, a mix of a groan and hum of content. Michael seemed to understand, rolling over onto his stomach, body leaning on Luke’s. He pressed a soft kiss to the corner of Luke’s mouth and the younger boy let out a soft whine. He hated when Michael played games when he was trying to initiate something.

“Michael.” Luke drug his name out slightly, pinching the older boys side harshly. His cock throbbed at the sound Michael made; a loud, high pitched keening noise that Luke could almost picture his face, eyes rolled back slightly and mouth hanging open. Michael loved rough stuff and Luke really tried to keep it to a minimum usually so he’d have an upper hand when he needed so.

He squirmed around. Michaels leg pushed in between his thighs, brushing against his cock. The older boy was just about on top of him, chests together. Michael peppered a few kisses to Luke’s neck, sloppy and wet; Michaels signature trademark.

Luke felt confined in the tight boxers hanging from his waist. He tried to pull them off, struggling as Michael just about had him pinned to the bed. Michael seemed to like his idea and pulled them down the blondes legs, dropped them onto the bed beside him.

Michaels breathing was weird, laboured almost. He sounded like he had a chest cold and Luke was very aware of why. His fingers were teasing the skin of Michaels tummy above the waistband of his sleeping shorts.

Luke pulled the boxers from Michaels body, letting the elastic material stretch to the fullest before snapping it back to his body. Michael let out a groan and grabbed Luke’s side roughly. The younger boy hoped he’d had fingerprints of Michaels hands on his body in the morning.

“What do you want?” Michael breathed. Luke wished his voice would have broken, he liked when he could get a rise that big out of Michael.

“You.” Luke replied.

Michael kissed him softly. His lips were cool to the touch and wet like Michael had been licking them in nervousness. His tongue played along Luke’s lips until he opened his mouth and allowed Michael to delve in, to explore.

Luke pushed his hand into Michaels bottoms, fingers playing around the older boys cock but never quite touching it. He could feel the harsh bite of Michaels teeth into his lips as his knuckle brushed the tip of his cock, and he could practically taste the groan that echoed from the boys mouth. Luke took his cock into his hand, stroking him slowly. He wanted this to last, he wanted everything to last.

Michael kissed his cheek, up his nose to his throat and behind his ear before nibbling on the cartridge, tongue riding the curve of his ear. His own hands were on Luke’s sides, holding tightly as if the younger boy was a life line. Michael released Luke and took his bottoms off. He hated being confined to the patterned bottoms when he could have Luke’s mouth or hand busy on him.

Luke moved his hand a bit faster. He could feel Michaels hair tickling at his forehead and the faint scent of shampoo hit his nose.

And then Michael was rolling them over, Luke on top. He pulled at Luke’s shirt, ripping the material over the boys head and throwing it on the floor.

Luke could feel Michaels cock beneath him, pressing against his thigh deliciously. Michael wasted no time though, he had two fingers slicked up and rubbing around Luke’s hole before the younger boy could say 'I love you’.

“Yeah?” Michael asked as he dipped a finger into Luke’s warm heat. The blonde boy whined, leaning forward to kiss Michael. Luke knew Michael loved the responses Luke gave, whether in words or indistinguishable moans and groans, it was all a huge turn on for his boyfriend.

Luke nodded in response quickly. He slid his body back, taking Michaels finger deeper inside of him. It was an amazing feeling that Luke just couldn’t get enough of. He wanted, in the worst way, to ram himself down on Michaels finger but he didn’t, instead he let Michael fingerfuck him at his pace.

Michael chuckled but it was weak, like he didn’t have enough air in his lungs to laugh properly. He pushed the second finger in and Luke was done, he couldn’t help himself. His body reacted automatically, slamming back to swallow the fingers into his hole. He moaned out, shifting his body rapidly. “F-fuck.”

Michael grunted in response, scissoring his fingers until Luke was almost in a puddle on his lap, whining and keening for more. He rolled Luke off of him slightly and covered his cock in lube.

Luke was panting loudly and dying for Michaels cock to fuck the shit out him. When Michael pulled him back onto his lap and pushed in, Luke groaned, head tipping back and mouth wide open. His cock was bigger than his fingers and it stretched Luke so good every single time and the younger boy was completely immersed in the feeling.

Michael was slow fucking into him, taking his time to build a pace that would ultimately drive Luke nuts and probably give him the best orgasm of his life. Luke tried to fuck himself on Michaels cock and got away with it for a few minutes until Michaels hands planted themselves on Luke’s hips and held him down. He could feel Michael inside of him, how his cock spread him so nicely and was so deep in him.

The older boy was slow at snapping his hips up to meet Luke’s desperate ones. Luke was sure he looked like he was close to tears. He clawed at Michaels chest softly, not wanting to hurt him as much as rile him up to the point of Michael losing control of this slow, sensual time and just fucking him like crazy.

Michael, though, seemed to be immune to Luke’s incessant and desperate pleads for more, and Luke whined out. The older boy must’ve felt bad or really just wanted to come because he pulled Luke’s face down, one hand still planted on Luke’s hip, and kissed him hard, biting his lip roughly, probably drawing blood.

Luke didn’t mind to much because Michael was picking up his pace and Luke felt this coil of tension spreading through his tummy. He flattened his hand to Michaels torso, the older boys grasp slipping on his hips. He lifted his body slightly before slamming it down repeatedly, swearing and moaning beneath his breath.

“I love you.” Luke choked out. He felt so close to coming, he was having trouble breathing.

Michael ran his hand up Luke’s back, trailing his spine. His hips were moving at a rapid pace sloppily. “I love you too, you fucking sap.”

Luke whined, reaching down to pump his cock. He felt so close, he just needed that little bump to get him to the edge. His hand did the trick and he was quickly coming over his fingers and Michaels tummy. He pumped himself through his orgasm, before slumping down on Michael as the older boy continued to fuck up into him, releasing whines and curses. Luke loved when Michael cursed, it was beautiful and funny, and made his tummy clench at all of the times Luke had made him curse.

Michael let out a guttural moan as he came, hips stilling, cock spilling into Luke. The younger boy shuddered at the feeling of Michael filling him up. He shifted his hips, ignoring the sensitive feeling floating through his body.

Luke was so spent and Michael was lazy. They ended up using Michaels new shirt to wipe themselves off before snuggling back under the blankets, Michaels arms wrapped around Luke’s torso, holding him close to his front.

“I love you.” Michael kissed Luke’s ear softly.

“I love you too.” Luke sighed. His boxers were staticky against the sheets but he couldn’t find it in himself to care. He was immersed in Michael, as usual.

And it was a wonderful feeling.

Damon And Elena: Begin Again

“Something tells me you’re not packing for our honeymoon.”

Okay I have to talk about it. 

I have to talk about what this means because I feel deep in my bones that this is foreshadowing. And the more I think about where this completely innocuous line is leading the more I feel my sanity spiraling into oblivion. 

There’s no way this was an accident. 

Not after how fucking married Damon and Elena have been acting this season, and really for the entire duration of this show. 

We are getting a Delena proposal. 

I don’t know when, I don’t know how, but it is happening. 

And when it does my mind will fall off the edge of the earth. 

Because that’s the dream. 

Damon and Elena’s relationship has always been so painfully real and human that the very concept of them getting married brings me untold amounts of joy. For gods sake, they already behave like a married couple. Their relationship, even when it was just a friendship, has always resembled a marriage. 

And never more so than this season, when they have been living together, sharing a bed, and looking after Jeremy. 

Its in their every interaction, their bickering, flirting, teasing, fighting, bantering, kissing, EVERYTHING. Their dialogue, their mannerisms, it is all eerily reminiscent of marriage. 

Which means there is a proposal and a wedding on the horizon.

And really, the time is ripe for it. 

The juncture we have reached in their story completely allows for this. Its the next step. The logical one. 

The metaphors for maturation through vampirism allow for this latitude even though Elena is only nineteen. She is living an adult life. She has an adult relationship, adult problems, adult responsibilities. There is no question that she has come to a place within herself where marrying her true love would not be out of character.

It would certainly bring a satisfying end to this beautiful angst ridden love story. 

And there is definitely precedence for it.

From the very beginning, Damon and Elena’s relationship has been grounded in the idea of the future. It’s one of the millions of parallels in their bond as twin flames. It’s one of the thousands of reasons that they have such a solid foundation as a couple. It’s one of the hundreds of things that set them so forcefully apart from Stelena. 

Since the night they first met it has always been about their future. 

In fact, it was the very first conversation they ever had.

“Got into a fight with my boyfriend.”

“About what? May I ask.”

“Life. Future. He’s got it all mapped out.”

This was intentional. Especially because we didn’t even know about it until 3x22. Until we had already spent three seasons witnessing how Damon and Elena’s bond is rooted in the future. In possibilities and potential. In the uncertain and the unexpected. 

Much like their trademark “right now” it is a powerful testament to how everlasting their love is. And has always been.

And I don’t believe it is any coincidence that the writers chose to show us this moment right before Elena drowned beneath Wickery Bridge and woke up in transition. Right before the possibilities of her human future were stolen from her.

A large piece of Elena’s arc throughout the series was that underneath all the supernatural bullshit she was constantly forced to deal with, she still wanted a human life. Or as close to one as she could get. She made it very clear she never wanted to be a vampire. And I think that is because she saw it as a metaphorical death for all the potential in her future. It stole opportunities from her because it would freeze her in time. 

She was already limited by her existence as a doppelgänger and the prevalent presence of vampires in her everyday life. But those weren’t things she had any control over. So she strived to have as normal a life as possible under the circumstances.

And once she went off that bridge with Damon’s blood in her system, it was all shot to hell. Any attempts she had made to secure even the smallest ounce of normalcy in her life died with her underneath that bridge. 

Like many things in Elena’s life, this sounds unbelievably tragic. Like a hopeless situation that she would never crawl out of. And I suppose that would be true if she were anyone else.

But she’s Elena Gilbert. The consummate survivor. With a bastion of support and encouragement behind her always. 

And standing at the helm of that citadel is Damon. Above everyone else in her life he represents the most realistic possibility of a future for her as a vampire. Of a life in death. 

And the very evidence of this is in what brought her back from the dead in the first place. What gave her a second chance to continue living her life, no matter how unorthodox. What allowed her to even HAVE a future. 

Damon’s blood. She went off that bridge with Damon’s blood in her system.

Which couldn’t be more significant. 

She is still walking around right now in season five because Damon’s blood is running through her veins. 

And people think Stelena is endgame. 

Which is impossible. Damon’s blood literally resurrecting Elena is merely one of an endless list of examples for why Delena is the endgame. 

Its nothing but further proof of what he represents in her life. Of how he simply is her future. And has been since the night her parents died. The night that ensured her life would never be the same again.

A night where minutes before she went off Wickery Bridge for the first time she was having a candid talk about the future with a mysterious stranger. 

“So Damon. Tell me. What is it that I want?”

“You want a love that consumes you. You want passion and adventure and even a little danger.”

You have to just appreciate the irony of her having this conversation with the very person who would provide her with all of this. Who would give her the future she had been yearning for. Who would bring to her life what Matt and Stefan were not able too. 

Because underneath the alluringly seductive element in those words from Damon is the picture of a life filled with possibility. 

Elena wants options. She wants the freedom to live her life without the constraint of expectation from someone else. And Damon figured that out in under five minutes. 

And now in just under five seasons Damon has given that to her. Even though her life as a vampire seemed void of all positive potential from the outset Damon has proven to Elena that death isn’t the end for her. She could still be happy and adventurous and free as a vampire. 

In fact, she could be more so.

Because becoming a vampire freed her from the overbearing confines that had plagued her life as a human.

Elena’s dissatisfaction with her relationship with Matt came from the notion of a future that was being planned for her by someone else. He had grand ideas of marriage and children and living in Mystic Falls for the rest of their lives. And they were not even seventeen yet. 

Her disgruntled talk with Damon about her fight with Matt reflected how much she didn’t want that typical vanilla lifestyle with the white picket fence. And she especially didn’t want it if it was being decided for her.

I’m certain she believed that she had found something much better when she met Stefan. Despite her immediate misgivings, discovering he was a vampire also piqued the interest of that wild animal she harbors deep down. The one that craves freedom. It was an opportunity for her to have a relationship whose trajectory wasn’t being mapped out by another person. 

Or so she thought.

We now know that the basis of Stefan and Elena’s relationship is in the supernatural. Literally.

Their love for each other did not develop naturally. It was the product of an outside force throwing them in each other’s path and pushing them to fall in love. 

I’m inclined to believe that human Elena might have been willing to overlook this had she known about it while she and Stefan were together. Stefan was her ‘first love,’ the man who pulled her out of the depression that had rattled her since she lost her parents. Finding out that the universe had had some hand in it probably would not have upset her too greatly.

But human Elena is gone. She’s grown up. She’s moved on from Stefan. She’s suffered triple the amount of agony she endured while she was human. She’s a vampire now. 

And she’s not to be fucked with anymore. 

Especially not when it comes to her love life.

She won’t let anyone make decisions for her about her future. She won’t let anyone tell her who she loves, who she’s destined for. She won’t let the universe take her freewill away.

In fact, she started taking back control of her life within days of completing the transition. 

She stopped orienting her every decision around the whims and judgments of her friends.

She broke up with Stefan. A man she claimed she would always choose.

She jumped right into a relationship with Damon despite the objections from the people around her. 

And the most brilliant part of it all was that she was sired. She’d gone from one supernatural bond dictating her life to another. 

And irony of all ironies, Elena being sired actually gave her back her freedom. It broke her connection to Stefan. It blew open the cage inside her that housed her reckless impulses. 

And it finally let her go to Damon. A choice she was never able to commit to before because of the sway of the doppelgänger bond. 

Even better, once she embraced her feelings for Damon she didn’t hold back. She dived right into the love she’d been harboring for him for months. And she did it unapologetically. No shame, no regret, no remorse. 

After she let go of Stefan and moved on to Damon she never looked back.

And for the first time possibly ever, she started to make plans for her future.

That is, if 4x13 is any indication. 

Elena (to Damon): “So things are hard and you’re just gonna push me away now? That’s what you do Damon. You think that you don’t deserve something so you ruin it. I’m not gonna let you pull that this time. Take the cure with me. That’s how much I know this is real. That’s how certain I am that I’m gonna love you even after this is all over. Take the cure. Be human with me. We can be together, grow old together, this doesn’t have to be hard anymore.”

I don’t seem to recall Elena ever proposing to Stefan. I don’t remember Elena giving any elaborate emotional speeches to him about how they would grow old together. How she would still love him, vampire or not. How she wasn’t going to give up on them just because things were hard. 

And that’s because they never had that kind of potential. 

Elena had barely been a vampire for a few months when she said this to Damon on that island. She’d barely had any time to process everything that had happened to her both before and after the transition. All the trauma she suffered. The people she lost. There was no time to heal emotionally. Hell, she was just getting the hang of being a vampire. 

And she still had time to come to the very firm conclusion in her own mind and heart that Damon was her choice, vampire or otherwise. That she wasn’t going to make the same mistake that drove her off that bridge and killed her. 

And there’s no way you can blame any of this on the sire bond. Being sired doesn’t include daydreams about a bright future with the man you are sired to. The man you are only sired to because you’re in love with him, and have been for much longer than a few rocky months as a vampire. 

Elena was right. Things had been hard. And they had earned the right to a life without so much conflict and pain. 

But that’s the beautiful thing about Delena. They flourish in hardship. They fell in love in the midst of hellish difficulties. Their love is built on a solid foundation of survival and strength. 

Which is nothing but further evidence for their impending nuptials. 

Because the only person in the world who could ever be a viable life partner, a husband, for Elena Gilbert is someone who will stick by her through everything. Through every bump and rough patch, every loss and every fight.

Some might say, someone who would stick by her for better or for worse. In sickness and in health. 

At some point or another everyone else in Elena’s life, whether by choice or by force, has bailed on her in a time of need. 

Except for Damon. 

Through the worst of it all Damon has always been there. Even when she didn’t want him to be. 

And because of that she has developed a deep reliance on him. He’s become her safety and her love in the never ending darkness and despair of her world. 

Which brings us to 5x17. 

Or as I like to call it, endgame: the sequel. 

On the heels of that crack from Damon about her packing for their honeymoon came the break up we had been expecting. The breakup that sounded so much like the prelude to an engagement that it makes me hyperventilate with excitement. 

“It’s about us. It’s not just that we’re bad for each other, it’s that when we’re together, we do bad things for each other. And I can’t live like that.”

“I’ll drive you to Whitmore.”

“If you do that then I’m gonna spend the entire car ride thinking about your hand next to mine… And even though I’ll try, I won’t be able to stop myself from taking it, or from letting you kiss me. And we’re never gonna get to where we need to go. We’ll just end up back here, where we started. That’s why I need you to let me go.”

Holy shit. 

Seriously all I heard was endgame. That’s all this is. 

They’re supposed to be breaking up for real, no spontaneous sex or subtle manipulation, just a straight break up for very valid reasons and she can’t even get through telling him to let her go without bringing up her absolute weakness for him. 

She loves him so much that even though the break up is currently necessary for the sake of their sanity she still knows she would cave if she spent too much time alone with him on the drive to Whitmore. 

Because he’s become the solid ground in her life. 

Because they have been sharing a space, a room, a home with each other for (if my timeline is correct) close to a year.

Because they spent months together without anyone else in the middle, cuddling on the couch, flirting on the phone and apparently, holding hands in the car. 

They are each other’s normal. It has become a habit for her to do things like end fights with sex and hold hands while they drive god knows where and kiss before they part ways. And she still wants those things, regardless of how bad she claims they are for each other. You can hear in her voice how much she wishes they could go back to their happy, blissful summer. 

But she also recognizes that they couldn’t live in a bubble forever. They can’t ignore the problems they have, the darkness that has begun to brew between them because of how strongly they affect each other.

They have to deal with the consequences of their miscommunications from earlier in the season, the secrets they kept from each other, the mistakes they’ve made, and the dangerous codependence they share.

What’s so interesting about this speech of Elena’s is that nothing she is saying is meant to be final. She can rant all she wants about how they have become a bad influence on each other but that doesn’t take away from the very positive effect they can also have when they are together.

Damon and Elena have always been a marriage of opposites. 

Not in terms of their shared soul. In that respect they are very similar.

But the way in which that soul manifests itself in each of them has made them incredibly complementary of each other. For every dark part of Damon’s character or past, there’s something light in Elena to balance it out. And vice versa.

And anything left over is something they share, something they have in common. Something to confirm their bond as twin flames. 

“We’re never gonna get to where we need to go.”

Does this sound like its over to you?

I didn’t think so. 

Because it isn’t. 

This is not something you say when things are finished with someone. This is something you say when you have an idea in your head of where you want to go with that person, but in order to reach it, you have to have a little distance and perspective.

Elena’s intention here is clear. They need space because if they don’t take time to work through their problems they will stay in their current cycle of bad decisions and dangerous compromises. Damon will keep giving into his dark impulses and Elena will keep letting it go for the sake of their relationship. 

Elena isn’t wrong. They need time to handle their respective personal crises and determine some other way of coexisting that doesn’t involve so much negative fallout for the people around them. 

“We’ll just end up back here, where we started.”

In other words, nothing will change if we don’t force ourselves to spend some time apart. 

And in order for them to move forward together, they absolutely must figure out how to eradicate the darkness that spawns from the raw, brutal all consuming love they have for each other.

They have to find a way to cut off the ripple effect that their addiction for each other seems to have. 

“That’s why I need you to let me go.”

She wasn’t begging or cajoling or demanding. She simply stated it like a fact. Something that had to happen to ensure their future together. 

This is all temporary.

This is all necessary. 

This is all for the greater good of their love story.

And they both know it.

Which is why Damon didn’t fight it, mock it, or react rashly to it. 

Because he knows as surely as she does that this is far from over. They are just getting started.

So he walked right over to her and kissed her forehead.

Much like when he let her go for the sake of her relationship with his brother, he is completely calm and resolute about it.

He knows it has to be done. 

He knows this isn’t goodbye. It’s until we meet again.

It’s until the time is right. 

And when their time comes back around they will solidify their unparalleled majestic love, their sovereign bond of trust and devotion with a tangible promise that this really is for always, even though they never say it.

Damon kicked off this season by telling Elena nothing would stop him from building a future with her. 

And you better believe that that is just as true today as it was when he said it. He will fight for her. 

And based on this agonizingly ingenious speech, she will fight for him. She already is fighting for him. 

This was the first step to ensuring their survival. Together.

And they always survive. 

Every ending Damon and Elena have ever had has really been the beginning for them. A fresh start after a host of terrible choices.

This is no different. 

You want a Delena endgame?

They have to begin again. 

“Something tells me you’re not packing for our honeymoon.”

You can bet your ass that by the end of this series she will be. 

Because the proposal is coming.

The break up confirms it.

Just as surely as it confirms our glorious endgame.