this set makes no sense whatsoever

anonymous asked:

Prompt request: what did Mulder and Scully do with the FBI credit card after the end of Hollywood AD? Not sure if you've done this already, I'm a new follower!

Hi new follower. Or maybe not so new as this prompt is like a week old? Two? Maybe you’ve left already… ANYWAY. Just a drabble after a week of no writing whatsoever. Set, of course, right after Hollywood AD. 

“So Scully,” Mulder’s shoulder bumped into Scully’s as they walked off the movie set, their bodies unwilling to stay apart, “what do you want to do with the credit card?” He grinned at her, lavish ideas sparkling in his eyes. Forgotten was the movie and the lousy, insanely inadequate portrayal of the character loosely based on him.

“Hm,” she marveled, taking his hand into hers again and inspecting it; she loved his hands. She always had. Even back in the day when they were still young, still learning to trust each other, she let him touch her. The small of her back, always a favorite, her arm, her shoulder. Nowadays she preferred his hands lower, much lower, where they knew exactly how to touch her, too, drive her insane with need.

“Scully?” He squeezed her hand slightly and she shivered from his warmth, the strong touch around her fingers; all of him.

“I want to do this,” Mulder glanced at her; they were still at the Darryl Zanuck movie theater, just standing there outside while people, mostly tourists, went by. “I want us to walk through LA holding hands.”

“We don’t need a credit card for that.” Scully couldn’t help but chuckle when disappointment flickered over his face.

“I’m sure we’ll think of something later on.” She whispered and leaned up to kiss his mouth. But Mulder stopped her.

“In public?” Scully turned and looked around. She was still holding Mulder’s hand and no one, not one single person, cared. Right here, right now they were two regular people in love, walking through the city, taking in the sights. They were, for lack of a better word, normal. Scully giggled again. Who would have ever thought that Mulder and Scully could be normal.

“What’s so funny?” Mulder asked her while putting his hands on her waist to move her out of the way from a group of tourists coming closer.

“Kiss me.” Scully demanded.

“What?”

Instead of explaining it to him, Scully got on tiptoes, grabbed his face and kissed him. Her tongue teased his bottom lip, knowing what it did to him, and Mulder opened his mouth to deepen the kiss. Before it got out of hand, Scully let go of his lips, albeit unwillingly, and grinned up at him. The tourists walked past them, one or two of them looked at them with a shy, knowing smile, but mostly they didn’t care. Just like Scully had thought.

“See?”

“What? Your smile? I see that, yeah.” Scully hit him playfully on the shoulder.

“No one cares, Mulder. No one knows us here. I can hold your hand like this,” she laced their fingers and stared at them for a moment; they never got to do this at home in Washington. They barely had time to be a couple in private. In public? There was just no way. Here, though, they could be anyone, do anything. At least for one night.

“See? We’re holding hands. In public.”

“And no one is sick.” Mulder added his eyes glued to their joined hands as well.

“Or dying.” Scully whispered.

“Or in need of comfort.”

“I thought you needed some cheering up after the movie.”

“Nah. All I need is right here.” This time, Mulder kissed her, but softly without any urgency.

“Hmm, that was nice.”

“I can do nice,” he ran a finger over the bridge of her nose as if a sudden need to touch her had come over him, “or I can do naughty. Your pick.”

“How about nice now, naughty later?”

“Sounds good,” Mulder squeezed her hand and they started strolling down the boulevard lazily. “So what about food? You know, we really should use that credit card.”

“You’re right.” Scully nodded in agreement and let her eyes wander.

“I know what you’re thinking.” He murmured into her ear, causing her to shiver and giggle.

“You sure?”

“Hmm, yeah. It’s a waste of this credit care but yes, I know exactly what you want to do right now.” He nuzzled her neck and Scully had to stop herself from dragging him into an alley and doing much more than simply kissing him.

“You think Assistant Director Skinner knows this about you? Hm?” Scully moaned when Mulder started raining kisses on her neck, her throat and finally her lips.

“Not here, Mulder,” Scully protested weakly, “We need to… eat. That’s what you said.”

“Hm, I know,” one last kiss on her mouth and he stood to glance at her, a boyish grin playing around his lips, “And if I had a say in this, we’d use this credit card to drink champagne, eat lobster and have one of these expensive chocolate dessert things. But I know you and I know that’s not what you want.”

“What do I want, Mulder?”

“You’ve been eyeing the KFC over there. You want one of these buckets with chicken everything and if I’m lucky you might even leave one piece for me.”

“I like you, Mulder,” Scully gave him a quick but thorough kiss, “I like you better than chicken so maybe you’ll even get two pieces. Now come on.” She tugged at his hand almost painfully and he followed her, shaking his hand.

“You know Skinner will think we’re crazy. He gives us the FBI credit card and we’re using it for KFC.”

“Mulder, he already thinks we’re crazy.”

“You might have a point there. If my lady wants KFC, she gets KFC. Skinner would take you into a fancy restaurant, you know.”

“Which is why I’m with you, Mulder. Now feed me chicken.”

:)

Work was always getting in the way of his time with Lestrade. There would be times when he would have to go several days, sometimes even multiple weeks without seeing him in person, feeling his lips against his own, or even just a touch of his hand as they sat beside each other. Mycroft exhaled deeply, tapping his fingers against his knee as he waited for the American ambassador to arrive at the British embassy. He was stuck overseas dealing with tedious politicians while Greg was back in London, dealing with… well, their usual life.

And the DI missed him just as much.

Every night, right on cue, Mycroft would instant message him as soon as he got back to the room. Of course, he could afford an international phone plan, but Greg couldn’t, and insisted that Mycroft not get one for the both of them. Reluctantly, the man agreed and settled for nightly chats on his laptop.

MH: I do apologize for this extended stay in the States. It is ever so tedious, Gregory.

The notification on his phone’s app lit up and Greg beamed as he saw who it was from. Of course it was nearly 3AM in London, but it was worth it to talk to Mycroft Holmes. He quickly tapped out his reply, yawning as he did so.

It’s taking too long. I haven’t seen you in forever, Myc. When will you be home? And just what am I supposed to do with all this delicious food I made while you were gone? -GL

A small smile appeared on Mycroft’s lips as he saw the response, and the smile grew as he realized just how instant that reply had been. Conclusion: Greg had been waiting up for his reply. It warmed the Iceman’s heart to know that someone wanted to talk to him as much as Lestrade did.

MH: That depends on what you made, my dear. Anyway, how is London faring without me? Sherlock hasn’t decimated it yet, has he?

The entire city is falling into ruins as we speak, Mycroft. I don’t think England will last much longer without you here to save it. ;) -GL

MH: Although your attempt at trying to make me worry more about you is working, please refrain from using those dastardly emoticons, Gregory. We are not teenagers with a crush on one another.

Speak for yourself. :P -GL

MH: Gregory for goodness sake. Just picture me sighing, absolutely exasperated and wondering why on earth I put up with you.

As Mycroft’s pale fingers dashed out his latest reply, he couldn’t help the feeling of joy he felt at being able to just talk to someone as easily as he could with this man. It was utterly ridiculous sometimes, but he absolutely adored that about him.

Greg meanwhile, scratched his head, rubbing his eyes. His smile was a sleepy one, but it was there nonetheless. Before he could reply to that, Mycroft sent another message, berating him for still being awake.

MH: It is nearly half 3, Gregory. Why on earth are you awake?

I couldn’t go to bed until I talked to you. It’s kind of become part of my routine. Obviously, it would be better if you were actually here, so I could hug you. -GL

And… other things. -GL

MH: Other things? Care to elaborate?

Greg swallowed harshly, having just said that as a flirtatious joke. Now he was worried he may have said something wrong. With Mycroft, sometimes it was hard to tell. Luckily, he found an innocent response.

You know, what we usually do. Cuddling, making out on the couch instead of paying attention to the movie playing in the background. Staring at each other and enjoying every second. I wish I could do all of this to you. Guess I’ll just have to settle for eating this steak dinner, alone. -GL

MH: You can make me feel guilty all you want, Gregory, but I cannot simply fly home until this policy is cleared. Trust me, you’ve no idea just how much I would rather lie next to you and hold you than deal with the tedium of this place. And, dare I say it, your insufferable insistence on tickling me, as you say, “for science.” It makes absolutely no sense whatsoever, and you do not make a single application of the scientific method throughout.

Greg actually had to set his phone down from laughing so hard at that response, but he finally managed to recover and chuckled the whole time he replied to the message.

Thanks for the laugh, and the criticism. I shall ensure an entire experiment as soon as we see each other again. ;) -GL

MH: …..

MH: Gregory, you are absolutely insufferable.

;) -GL

;D – GL

MH: Gregory Lestrade, stop this now.

Then open your damn door, Mycroft Holmes. -GL

MH: What? Gregory, what are you saying? You’re not really, oh my God–

Before Mycroft could investigate further via the messenger, a knock reverberated throughout the room. He finished up his last message and glanced up. His gaze fell on the door and he rushed to it, tugging it open. There stood his Detective Inspector. His mouth fell open, right on cue because he threw his arms around the other man’s waist and dragged him inside, the kiss full of need and passion for the other.

“What the hell are you doing here? How long have you been here?” Mycroft asked as Greg pulled away to breathe. Mycroft was stunned that Greg had actually managed to surprise him.

“I missed you, and I wanted to see you.” Greg said nonchalantly as he sat down on the bed. “Plus, it was worth the trouble of getting an overnight flight on Tuesday just to get here in time to see that look of surprise on your face; it is adorable. I was overdue for a vacation anyway.”

Mycroft shook his head. Greg had managed to keep it a secret for three days? “You continuously manage to surprise me, Detective Inspector.” Mycroft also moved over to the bed, sitting down beside him, his fingers lacing with Greg’s.

“Good thing too, because I have an experiment to perform.” Greg smirked at Mycroft, who immediately tried to shift away. The Inspector tightened his grip on his hand, quickly throwing his weight on top of Mycroft to pin him down on the bed. In a moment, Mycroft was trapped and at Greg’s mercy. The DI raised his eyebrows, shifting slightly as he peered down at his boyfriend. He lightly ran a hand against Mycroft’s sides, already tickling him. But then he stopped abruptly.

“Right then…” Greg began. “For science, properly this time.”

Later, when Mycroft and Greg were getting ready to sleep in the same bed together for the first time, in a bed that absolutely was not familiar to either of them, Mycroft had trouble sleeping. So, he did what he always did when he couldn’t sleep, he talked to his boyfriend. In person, it was a hundred times better than text or a phone call would ever be.

“So, that steak dinner you told me about. Did you actually make it? Because I am quite jealous that I missed out on that one if so.”

Greg laughed and scooted closer to his boyfriend. “I didn’t make it. Had it ordered to the room.” He winked.

Mycroft’s eyes widened. “I thought I smelled a seared steak wafting through the door earlier. Wait – you’re saying you have been next door all this time? How on earth did you manage to go unspotted?”

“Because I know what you’re like, Mycroft Holmes. Based on when you message me, I know exactly what to expect.” Greg moved in to snatch a quick kiss, but Mycroft scoffed and put a finger against the other man’s lips.

“I don’t think you do, Detective Inspector.” Because then Mycroft was on top of Greg, smashing his lips against Greg’s.

In the middle of the night, when Mycroft was snoring softly next to him – god, that was so adorable, thought Greg – Lestrade grabbed up his phone and read through the messages of the day, realizing just how well his plan had worked. And when he noted that he’d missed a message just as Mycroft had thrown open the door, he beamed. He sent a quick glance over at the other man and then leaned over and planted a soft kiss against Mycroft’s forehead.

It was a simple message, but it meant more to Greg than nearly anything they had ever exchanged. After all, times like these were all about the little things.

Greg set his phone aside, the dull glow still showing on the nightstand, and the message still on the screen. He rolled over, curling up close to the man beside him before falling asleep.

On the screen was nothing more than this:

MH: :)


Tags below the cut! 

Keep reading

anonymous asked:

I'm baffled that BS suddenly gets branded as yet another tv shows that treats its women/queer characters appallingly. BS does not deserve that.

Ugh, don’t get me started on folks dissing Black Sails over “queerbaiting” or “bury your gays”, etc. This is the LEAST queerbaiting and “bury your gays troupe” show you will ever see. And Eleanor’s death had absolutely nothing whatsoever to do with her being bi-sexual. Obviously, no character should be killed because they’re queer. But a character should also not be exempt from death because they’re queer. Not if the death makes sense and works storyline wise, which I feel like was the case here. Eleanor’s death was entirely about her and Rogers’ actions. He may have led the Spanish there but she set so much of this into action herself, going back to last season when she killed Vane.

Speaking of, I saw a lot of people calling for her head back then. I think if Jack had shot her and said “Revenge for Chaz”, you’d be getting a different reaction from some fans. Eleanor has always been a polarizing character. That she died this way, in such a violent manner by a stranger with no actual grudge against her, gave a much bigger impact to viewers than if she’d been killed by someone the fans knew for reasons viewers understood (even if they didn’t approve of).

Eleanor has done alot over the course of the show. Lied, killed, stole, double-crossed, betrayed, etc. She did the same things that every other character – male and female – have done. And she died, as many of those characters have before her (Vane, Teach, Gates, Miranda, Scott, Hornigold, Dufrense, etc.). Like those deaths, it had nothing to do with gender or sexuality, just the price of the world they chose to be a part of.

I trust these writers to not kill for shock value. Steinberg said that every character death must create more storyline than it ends and I feel like we will see that. We already are. Max is now aiming to take down Rogers and united with Jack in this cause. Eleanor’s family in Boston will become involved. And Rogers/Spain storyline will expand because of this. And I have a theory/speculation of how this will entangle Billy going forward. The fallout from her death will be huge, as it should be.

okay but like am I the only one rather confused by the sanvers proposal? I feel like it’s to placate and distract us gays while they continue to fuck up everything else.

You mean to tell me Maggie “I had a serious relationship for 5 years that didn’t result in marriage” sawyer is just gonna get hitched with Alex “I realised I was gay only 3 moon cycles ago” danvers? I don’t buy it. Not after their slow burn of a start. It makes no sense to go hard with the slow burn and angst and then it be all for nothing because they’re married not 0.2 seconds later. The pacing makes no fucking sense whatsoever and I’m suspicious.

Tbh knowing The CW this sounds like a perfect way to bait the gay audience by distracting us with a wedding so we watch the show only to have “plot twist!!!” one of the lesbians killed off because that’s exactly what the CW would do and this proposal sounds exactly like the type of set up they’d have to pull that shit off.

Don’t get me wrong I’m happy for sanvers and it’s shippers but like I don’t want y'all to get baited af and fall victim to the CW’s favourite trope of the gays who don’t get happy endings

It’s cold in that fridge (the case of Mara Jade)

I think what annoys me most about Mara’s death is that it wasn’t about her.  Karen Traviss literally sat down and said “I need a catalyst to make Jacen a full-fledged Sith.  He needs to kill something he loves.”  But in the end, it wasn’t Mara - it was about killing Ben’s love for him.  This is despite:

  • Mara saving Jacen’s life when he was just a baby and countless times after that; and
  • Mara being his loving aunt through marriage for over twenty years.

Look, I’ll admit that the fight scene between Mara and Jacen and him realising what a powerhouse/force of nature she is, and that she just won’t stop until he’s dead is kind of badass.  But pitting them against each other in that fight required Mara to act extremely out of character and not take Luke for backup.  Yes, she’d been hard on him earlier about not killing Lumiya when he’d had the chance and she knew Luke wouldn’t be on board with assassinating Jacen so she thought she was sparing him that.  That’s fine, I buy TTT-era Mara thinking that way - I’d even be okay with newly-married or Survivor’s Quest Mara making that decision.

But fifty-odd Mara, who of all people has learned the value of forgiveness, who knows Jacen’s mind was warped by the Vong war, who remembers the sweet little boy he was?  I don’t buy it.  But she was protecting Ben, I hear you thinking - yes of course she hated Jacen for corrupting her son, and of course her first thought was he must die, but that wouldn’t have been her only thought.  She’s a fierce mama bear, but she’s not stupid.  At this point in her life she’s been a Jedi longer than she was an assassin, and she would have known better.  She’s no longer the lone wolf of her early years, she has learnt the value of being part of a team and the ultimate partnership with Luke.  

I feel like Traviss made a huge deal about Mara reverting back to her assassin instincts, but it’s misplaced in that time period.  There is literally a line which reads “Sometimes he caught a glimpse of the woman she had once been, and she was a stranger for a second or two.”  ARE YOU FLIPPING KIDDING ME?!?

This is the woman who despite the Last Command from the Emperor and desire to avenge his death, didn’t track down Luke asap to complete the task despite how seriously she took it, and how deeply she’d been indoctrinated by Palpatine.  Yes, she was on the run from Isard for a bit, but she had plenty of opportunities to do the deed but she didn’t (for example how easy would it have been for her to show up at Han and Leia’s wedding with a long-range rifle and take him out?).  But she waited until Luke literally fell into her lap before attempting to go through with it, and this was when she hated him with the fire of a thousand suns.  Don’t tell me she’s quick to act on her anger, if anything she’s the opposite - she’s a strategiser, a planner.  Luke’s the reckless one - Mara is more controlled.

And Luke is a man who saw Mara at her worst, full of hatred and anger and spite - but even then she was never a stranger, and to have him think this when Mara says you have to “kill cold” is a slap in the face to the deep understanding they have for one another.  

As is her taking off while Luke’s asleep to go after Jacen.  Mara stands in their bedroom and watches him sleep, kisses him goodbye and makes sure he doesn’t wake up, because she knows that he’ll talk her out of it.  She KNOWS going after Jacen is a bad idea, because she knows Luke will convince her it is.  And he can’t convince her of anything she doesn’t already believe.  So her charcaterisation absolutely falls apart and it can’t be handwaved by the fact that she went into overdrive to protect Ben.  It would have been more in character for her to wake Luke, tell him everything, go get Ben and lock his teenage ass up for his own protection, then work out a plan to deal with Jacen.  

Instead she goes after Jacen alone and doesn’t even leave anything helpful in her note.  I mean, how easy would this have been:

Gone hunting for a few days - don’t be mad Farmboy… (btw Jacen is the Sith TELL EVERYONE) 

It’s one thing for a character to be brought down by their own flaws, but those flaws have to make sense for the character in the first place (and lets face it with Mara there’s plenty to choose from.)  But no, her stupidity was required for the plot to go on for another book or two, to kill off Lumiya and set up why Luke wouldn’t just wipe the floor with Jacen’s punk ass.  It was needed to make Jacen into Caedus, this badass who would kill his own aunt and shrug it off without any guilt whatsoever.  

Mara’s death required the regression of her character, in order to advance Jacen’s.  

And that’s terrible.  Objectively terrible.  Ultimately, Mara’s death served the purpose of:

  • Being Jacen’s literal “sacrifice” to become a Sith.
  • Luke’s manpain.
  • Ben’s manpain.  

She didn’t go out in a blaze of glory, sacrificing herself for the greater good, nor did her death signify the brutality and random nature of war.  It was to create conflict between the male characters, so they could respectively gloat/emote about her death.  It was a plot device, rather than a natural progression of the characters and the situation - the knots Jacen had to twist himself into to justify Mara being his “sacrifice” were ridiculous and a disservice to everyone involved.  it was a cheap trick, the literal sacrifice of an awesome female charactar (two if you count Lumiya, and her shrug of the shoulders “well Jacen is a Sith now I guess I need to commit suicide-by Skywalker” is a rant for another day) in order to serve three male characters and their arcs.  

Basically, the fridging to end all fridgings.  

Women who speak for womens’ freedom whilst simultaneously bashing women who want to practice that freedom by dressing a certain way (e.g wearing the hijab) or identifying with a certain set of belief (e.g islam) do not make sense whatsoever. That isn’t to say that, that practice and that identity aren’t misused by ignorant and arrogant people/oppressors, those conversations shouldn’t be shut, however it is counter-productive to bash the aforementioned practices for the sake of proving points that stem from bigotry.

anonymous asked:

Companions and soles reaction to a weak and helpless-looking teenager riding a tamed giant legendary albino deathclaw (sorry I'm just obsessed with deathclaws I fcking luv them and I wish so hard to tame them and hav them as a companion!) ^^

You’d be surprised at what you can encounter out in the wasteland.


Cait: “It’s tame, right? It better be fuckin’ tame. Deathclaw or no deathclaw, if that kid sics their beast on us, I’m'a kick the shit out of ‘em.” Once Cait is properly assured that, yes, the Deathclaw is tame, and that the teen means no harm, she calms down a bit. “Right. Alright. Deadly Beastie is good beastie, sure.” She shoots Sole a side-eyeing look. “I need a drink.”

Codsworth: You wouldn’t think a robot could faint. The explanation is something about ‘overloaded circuits’ and ‘an overheated central processor,’ but the effect is the same; Codsworth saw the deathclaw and collapsed.

Curie: She… forgets, at first, that deathclaws are not friends. “Oh! They are docile, yes?” Without a moment of hesitation, she walks over, pulling a clipboard from somewhere on her person. She’s scrabbling for a pen as well, when the deathclaw breathes hot air from it’s nostrils, growling low in its throat to warn her away. A little sheepish, Curie gives the creature and its rider some space.

Danse: “This- This is not-” He’s not entirely sure what to make of the sight. A deathclaw? Being ridden? Ridiculous. Impossible! And by a sickly adolescent no less. But, as if sensing his thoughts, the deathclaw has its dark, piercing eyes on him, and doesn’t seem to like him whatsoever. The feeling is mutual. Sole can go interact with the creature, but Danse stays a healthy thirty feet away at all times.

Deacon: He insists on riding it. The teenager currently doing so explains that this is a terrible idea, to which Deacon replies with, “Terrible ideas are kind of my thing. Just ask my coworkers.” He has his heart set on riding the creature. Everyone present refuses to let him do so, so he goes along with it… Until no one’s looking. At which point he throws a leg over the beast and cries, “Yee-haw!” It does not end well.

Dogmeat: Doesn’t like the deathclaw at all. Nope. Nope, no like. No good. He growls and whines whenever he’s forced to be around the best, and when he’s not forced, he makes himself scarce and is nowhere to be found outside of mealtimes. He only appears when his bowl is full and when the deathclaw is away.

Hancock: “Either I’m tripping, or I’m seeing some really cool shit right now.” Proceeds to take a long drag from his cigarette and engage in an intense staring contest with the deathclaw.

Nick Valentine: “Are you sure that’s safe?” He sounds more grumpy than anything, though also a bit concerned. “Would a dog not be less… Uh, ostentatious?” After explaining the meaning of ostentatious (showy, for those not equipped with fancy Pre-War vocabulary) Valentine relents that a deathclaw is a bit more intimidating than your average guard dog. Though he still worries about the teen.

MacCready: “No.” He shakes his head, turning on his heel and pointedly stalking the other way. “I don’t care if it’s fu- freaking tamed.” His voice cracks on the not-swear. “Come get me when the giant goddamn people eater is two miles away! They can smell fear, you know!”

Piper: “Oh my god,” she whispers. “This could be the story of the century.” She stares, desperately, at the creature before her, her camera clutched in a white-knuckle grip. No flash photography, the teen had said. Piper is dying inside.

Preston: “Uhhh…” His eyes move between the deathclaw, the teen, and Sole, who’s staring at him, waiting for him to say something. Preston swallows. “I guess it’s too hopeful to ask if he’s a vegetarian, huh?”

Strong: He attempts to wrestle the deathclaw.

X6-88: “I… have not encountered a creature like this before.” It’s then that something magical happens. X6 walks forward, closer, and closer, coming up to the deathclaw just inches away from the creature’s massive jaws. Much to the amazement of onlookers, X6 reaches a hand out and begins fondly petting the beast, causing it to let out a pleased rumble resembling a purr. With his back to Sole, the Courser speaks. “I want one.”

((Thanks for the ask, anon! Also… with the new Wasteland Workshop DLC, this fantasy can be yours. Deacon and I are calling our deathclaw Fluffy.))

Oh Dyslexia, You can not?

I’ve struggled since forever to get a handle on my writing and spelling. I was always spelling it out how it sounds, getting words backwards, getting sentences backwards, and oh yes, spelling the same word at least three different ways in one paragraph. 

• It always makes me feel stupid, because I know I meant to write, ‘Spot on’, but ‘Stop on’ just appears without my permission.

• I feel stupid when people edit my stories, or hell, when I edit my stories, and I find a sentence that makes no sense because for some god-aweful reason, the words that should be in the beginning are in the end.

• I fEEl stupid whEn I write something out by hand and Every ‘e’ in the sEntence varies between lowErcase and uppErcase. 

• I feel stupid when I read a story, and I have to read that last sentence at least three times because for some reason only half of it stuck, and the other half I just can’t focus on. 

• I feel stupid when I get stressed in a public setting, and instead of saying, ‘I think that the established timeline of events make little to no sense, whatsoever,’ I end up saying something like, ‘I think timeline makes no sense, how it’s established.’ 

• I feel stupid, because people laugh, or teachers get angry, or readers mock me for these mistakes without ever considering how much work it takes to even make a post like this.

I’m made to feel stupid, and I shouldn’t be.

eurus is just such a lazy plot device why can’t you make a character do things real humans do or at the very least obey some set of rules that you’ve set up you can’t just make rules and establish a universe that for 12 episodes works exactly as it should if it’s the Real World and then suddenly be like “jk!!!! rules of standard science and psychology and human behavior and limitations DO NOT APPLY ANYMORE!!! HA HA!!!!” it’s incredibly bad writing, it’s so lazy. “she’s been able to [enslave people to her will] since she was five” like??? what?? what the fuck?? that makes no sense whatsoever given the rules that, i reiterate, you established 12 episodes ago. giving your characters supernatural powers none of them had before in order to twist your show into some semblance of a plot isn’t writing worthy of a multi-million dollar production. even low-budget webseries do better than that, because their writers actually know how to write.  

I still need to spin a scenario for Etain’s near death during Order 66 to make sense, and for Darman to know about it… without it requiring her 

1) stepping in front of a lightsaber that isn’t going to stop going through her and magically not go through the trooper

 and 

2) her ignoring literally everyone in the family telling her to stay put and going through an anti-Jedi check point for no good reason whatsoever.

Like, I am actually attached to the “almost killed during Order 66″ plot point now because of some of the stuff it opens up character development-wise post war, but it needs to make some damn sense. 

It will probably involve some playing with timelines to get her in a place with actual conflict at the right moment rather than the set up we have now. I considered at one point having Etain be caught giving her resignation at Arca barracks and get caught up in the actual Purge, but it was pointed out that Ordo would likely be there and unlikely to let her wander off.

Also, I’m torn, bc most of what I built around assumes a lightsaber wound and I’m still kinda stuck on that, but I really do think it’s more interesting if it’s a clone who almost kills her, and that’s what she and Darman (and to a lesser extent the rest of the family) half to deal with.

I don’t know. Something something, Etain versus a trooper (who she doesn’t actually want to hurt and is trying to just disable) who after losing his weapon tries to use a dead Jedi’s lightsaber to bring her down? Thus explaining why the wound wasn’t quite as lethal as it should’ve been. Darman is there for some reason, sees, thinks she’s dead, and has to shoot the trooper? (Thereby continuing his horror at the clones tasked to kill their own brothers in True Colors?)

But Etain is actually lightsaber trained, so there’d have to be some good justification and I don’t know I have a strong enough one. Also, still timelines again to explain how she got there.

anonymous asked:

(1/2) i feel like the people who hate the idea of reysky are people who ignore the story points that tfa set up. like they claim it's too predictable but the point of it was to SHOW she was luke's daughter without actually saying it. it's like how jj said that he learned that he didn't have to tell everything the audience could figure out the answers themselves. which tbh makes a good story. all the other theories don't mesh as well with what tfa set up.

like what i’ve noticed with most people who dislike it or prefer a different theory it’s just messy cause most of them make little sense and have no connection to tfa whatsoever. it’s like they can’t accept a very simple way of storytelling and think everything needs to be this overly complicated drawn out twist even if it’s goes against the story that has already been set up. and also just thinking about how like GL said star wars was for kids. like it’s not meant to be difficult

People who hate ReySky, to the point where they’ll “walk out” if it becomes canon, almost always have an ulterior motive. They’re not worried about storytelling, they usually just hate the idea because it gets in the way of a ship or they can’t stand Luke or whatever. I mean honestly, I don’t care if you prefer another theory, because that’s just fine, but when you’re calling ReySkys stupid for liking our theory and saying you’ll give up Star Wars if it ends up happening, then I have to ask how “open-minded” you really are to the possibilities of seeing the story play out onscreen. (Since, you know, people who hate ReySky love to pat themselves on the back for being the ones to truly ~think outside of the box~. Can one get any more condescending?) 

Tumblr Fic: Expecto Patronum

Author: AsbestosMouth
Ship(s): Sansa/Sandor. SANSAN FLUFF OMG! (and Remus/Severus because this is my HP OTP).
Trigger Warning(s) if applicable: Fluff fluffity fluff fluff fluff. Mentions of dead!Ned. Creepy boggarts. Creepier Slytherins.
Brief Summary: Sandor needs to be able to cast the Patronus charm to pass his higher level DADA NEWT wizarding exam, but he hasn’t got the requisite happy memory to get the spell to cast *sob*. Sansa wants to be able to properly play quidditch with her siblings in their back garden. So, they might as well help each other, right? 

Harry Potter/Game of Thrones crossover, set in the HP universe. It got…kind of long.

Prompt by a Nonny Mouse:  sansan. GOTxHarry Potter au. Sandor will help Sansa with DADA spells if she teaches him some quidditch moves. or vice verse, whatever strikes your fancy. oh, and this will inevitably lead to some good ol fashion snogging. :) feel free to add in some GOT or HP cameos


Professor Selmy set the worst tests. Sandor swore internally, stared at his textbook which seemed to make no sense whatsoever, before throwing it across the library. NEWTs threatened. Not that Clegane was academically minded in general, but he was usually very good at Defense Against the Dark Arts.

Casting a Patronus charm was proving very difficult indeed.

Keep reading

But the thing is, Marlene wouldn’t give it away that easily? And what motive does Paige have for avenging charlotte’s death? I get she was mad at Alison but let’s be real, what would she have against the others? She “loved” Emily and is suddenly becoming all over protective and saying Alison is the victim, so if she’s protecting Emily from Alison, why would she steal Emily’s eggs? It makes no sense whatsoever. If it’s this I’m going to be SOOOO pissed. And people are saying that Lindsey Shaw was last on set for 7x15? I get that it might just be her not being shown (or hidden?) But Marlene said that the AD reveal will be heartbreaking, and she knows most of the fans hate Paige and are big time Emison shippers. Plus, if there’s a twist with Wren, how does that link in with Paige? MARLENE! It’s too obvious….

And Paige was working at the time Spencer got the text from A.D. Emily would’ve said “Paige wasn’t there” and if she was at work, how would she see Spencer in a time of need? It’s too many plot holes.

slayer-sparks  asked:

Any tips for writing situational comedy? Like, not just "Oh *normal joke*" but something that was set up by the situation. Idk if that made sense.

Mmm, I’m admittedly not a comedy writer but I’ll do my best.

  • Try to avoid the “I hate myself for laughing at this” kind of thing. Like old people falling down the stairs. 
  • Don’t force it. If the situation doesn’t seem plausible it will mostly just be confusing. Yes a lot of comedy comes from things that we don’t expect but if it just doesn’t make any sense whatsoever it might be a problem.
  • Write what you think will be funny. Everyone has different tastes so just because one person doesn’t find it funny doesn’t mean someone else won’t.
    • Just be careful that it isn’t offensive. There is a line.
  • Know your audience. This is important for any form of writing but you can use this to make those kind of “you know when you’re…and this happens” kind of moments. Like if you think of “Modern Family” the show is based on the moments in everyday family life that we all go through—just a little exaggerated at times.
  • Use the element of surprise. If we see it coming it won’t be as funny. It would be like giving away the punchline ahead of time.
  • Along the same lines, try not to drag it out. Set it up and then get to the point.

Honestly I am still so upset with people who spread horribly inaccurate info about Christian holy days and feast days. The Church does not just pick a date out of their ass and push it over pagan holidays for petty reasons. They carefully consider the liturgical calendar in relation to times in Christ’s life (including His conception in Mary’s womb even!!!!) and set up feast days in ways that respect this timeline. That doesn’t mean this happens in a vacuum, separate completely from pagan traditions; but that also doesn’t negate the fact that the Mother Church carefully considers the setting and dates for celebrating our faith.

I will never not be upset then, when people - ESPECIALLY THOSE WHO CALL THEMSELVES CHRISTIANS - spread the false notion of “Christmas came from Saturnalia/Yuletide!!!!” or “Easter comes from Oestre’s festival!!!!”. Not only does it not make any logical sense whatsoever from a historical perspective once you get the timelines and documents before you, but it just plain ignores and erases the beautiful history of our faith. A faith that is MEANT to be celebrated.

Please, for the love of our pro-feasting, pro-celebatory God: educate yourself on these things before you pull a Puritan and refuse to celebrate holidays, and then spread your misinformation to others. Our history is rich and deep, and it’s waiting to be discovered for the glory of Jesus!

So yeah, you’re free to think and say and celebrate as you will, I am not saying you can’t do that, but that doesn’t come without consequences nor critiquing, considering it concerns an ENTIRE BELIEF SYSTEM’S HISTORY AND HOLY TRADITIONS. ONE PRACTICED BY A BILLION PEOPLE AROUND THE WORLD. I for one am done about being silent about my faith being lied about, even if it isn’t intentional and people think they are doing the right thing.

  • What she says: I'm fine
  • What she means: Do you ever think about the waste of potential that is Anakin Skywalker's characterization? Pre-Vader? He is set up with three movies to sufficiently examine his characteristics, motives, and psyche, and yet NONE of these things are accurately looked into; in fact it's almost as though no one cared to try to make him anything other than a paper-doll 2D character in the first place. Why? What is the goal of writing your own main prequel character off as an angst-ridden, whiny, selfish pissbaby from hell? Quite simply: Anakin Skywalker makes no sense. There is no logical reason why he should not have been an emotionally compelling, driven, and intriguing character. They could've examined his sociopathy, shown signs of it even when he was a youngling, set us up for his inevitable descent into darkness. It should've been heart-wrenching and horrid, not rushed and flat. We can't balme all of this on Hayden Christensen, every A-list actor in those films struggled through their poorly-done lines as well. Anakin may not have been acted well, but he was also absolutely written for shit. His motives in the films make no sense at all. He kills children to.... save his own children? Are you kidding me with this?? That makes no sense whatsoever. And the sand people massacre? You expect me to believe that when he tells Padmé how he slaughtered men, women and children, her 'i love you' response twenty minutes later makes any bit of sense? Why did no one take the time to really think about and care about the man who would be Vader? To examine his motives, his needs, his true shortcomings: Why make one of the most famous villains of all time nothing but an obnoxious brat? We would have been much better served by an Anakin who showed signs of real sociopathy very early, was manipulative and opinionated, but charming, with something slightly off-kilter about him, not a rage-filled bucket of creeps and glares. You can't make your main character be so unbelievably unlikeable that the hate his actor receives is so strong, said actor abandons his career and runs off for five years of hermitude on a farm. How could you fuck up your main character so royally? He's better written in a damn kids cartoon for god's sake. But in the prequels? Utterly wasted potential. What was the point of Anakin Skywalker? He didn't have one; no one seems to actually have cared enough to give him any depth or flesh him out at all. It's like watching a robot try to feel. Utterly depressing; Anakin Skywalker could have been, and should have been, so much more than an entitled ball of rage and self-pity. But they squandered that and I can't seem to get over it

verbingweirdslanguage  asked:

am i late?? your top 5 favorite eijun moments :DDDD

no! you are never late jesss!!! 

- Eijun’s speech to Furuya in the Ugumori match

“I told you, didn’t I! That baseball is not that easy! You planned to pitch the whole game, but a monkey wrench got thrown into your plans. If the coach let me, I’d want to go to that mound and pitch right away! But unfortunately, he hasn’t! You know what that means, Furuya?! It means he believes in you!!! So don’t get so damn flustered over 1 point difference! If you have the ace number on your back, then take that one out and get back to the dugout!!!”

my heart was swelling with pride for this lovely ball of sunshine in that moment. he’s gone such a long way since comming to seidou, selfishly declaring that he can’t handle seeing other pitcher’s on the mound that isn’t him, to being the one to support and actually move the team! especially because its furuya, his rival and ugh. just seeing him support his rival wholeheartedly **clenches fist** it just makes me really proud of him! words cannot explain how proud i was of him in that moment (º̩̩́⌣º̩̩̀ʃƪ)

- eijun reading books. 

at first i just felt really helpless because it was during his yip arc, and i felt like he felt that he didn’t have anyone to turn to during his time of need and so he started reading books, especially cause the boooks he was reading was about how to be strong and what not. but then!!!! eijun happily reading kimi ni todoke, and eijun giving up on crime and punishment because he couldn’t remember the main characters name and my love for him just sky rocketed and i will forever ship with him books, especially happy shoujo mangas!! just look at him crying over it. ugh this kid. i cannot handle him.

i especially love it because he’s been portrayed as “bakamura” who begs kanemaru to tutor him in his studies. he’s not stupid. he is an idiot tho. but he certainly isn’t stupid and i think that’s something that people really should be more aware of, cause i hate it when people portray him as this intellectually dumb kid. i mean he hasn’t had to take make up exams, unlike furuya (at least not yet) 

- eijun following(stalking) chris-senpai around making sure that he has everything he needs.

 just the whole chris ordeal to be honest. i know for the most part it was eijun trying to “redeem” himself from his past shitty treatment of chris-senpai, but it was just so adorable. eijun following him around offering him toilet paper, extra rice, towels, and even asking if he can wash his back, it was too cute!! i like how eijun admits his faults, and you can see that he’s just so horrified that he ever said those words to chris. i think that in that moment, thats when we first get a glimpse of eijun’s true personality, which is an annoyingly persistent idiot with no sense of class whatsoever but is wholeheartedly determined to set everything straight and make up for the things that he lacks. 

- eijun learning the change up. 

BECAUSE IT SERIOUSLY WAS A BAMF MOMENTTT!!! i just love the fact that he just completely defies all of ochia’s expectations, especially in this case cause ochia taught eijun the change up with the intention of him breaking his form. but nope. nope. he actually learns how to throw the change up, and not just one form but two. and i just thought it was completely adorable how he was just oblivious to everything that was going on during that time (him not realizing what an amazing feat he just pulled off, and him not realizing that his form had a higher chance of being broken) and just alsjdlkajwkea. he just looked so happy with it too! since im talking about the change up, then i’m also going to add in the oya match along with it too. so two for one i guess. haha. he’s just come so far!! eijun being able to pitch a whole game! eijun throwing the change up! eijun just being eijun ( °̥̥̥̥̥̥̥̥◡͐°̥̥̥̥̥̥̥̥)

- eijun and his little side line cheering! that kid says some of the most ridiculous things and i love it! 

anonymous asked:

My anti cousins already tossing the KOL guy having a half heart tattoo in my face. When someone shows up with a dagger or anchor or hell, even a bloody lighthouse.. I'll give a crap.

Six sets of complimentary tattoos that Louis and Harry either never talk about or only ever give a ridiculous or vague response about vs. one half a heart tattoo that is explicitly referred to as a friendship tattoo by the person with the other half. The reason antis get so worked up about this stuff is because they know that there are multiple sets of tattoos between Louis and Harry that can’t be explained so they try to cling to whatever they can to minimize those tattoos. Even if they tried to claim they’re just friendship tattoos between Harry and Louis, it doesn’t explain the romantic nature of several of them (for example, the heart and arrow) and the suspicious timing of several of them (for example, the ship and compass on the same day during Haylor or the dagger post-BS 2.0) and it doesn’t explain why the fuck Harry and Louis felt the need to get such an excessive number when Harry only has like one tattoo to signify other friendships (like with Nathan or Ed). Amazing. So antis can gloat and try to throw this in our faces, but in the end, Harry and Louis still have multiple sets of complimentary tattoos that aren’t going away and antis still aren’t any closer to explaining them in a way that makes any sense whatsoever. :)

Elsanna One shot - The London Underground

Rating: T - Perfectly safe but I’ll stick a T rating on just in case.
Words: 2734
I hope you enjoy!


Oneshot – The London Underground:

Each morning in the city of London there are thousands of businessmen and women rushing around the busy streets. Each are in their own little worlds, conscious of the meeting they’re late for, the pile of work that awaits them on their desks, thinking how they can avoid their bosses long enough to finish off a report that’s due. Yes, step into the streets of London any morning and look around. Most likely you’ll be knocked to the floor as you stop against the flow of those busy people, but you will quickly notice two things about the surge of madly rushing workers. One, they have no regard for people have fallen over, and two, each of them is lost in their own routine.

Elsa Sonticus was one of those who had such a routine. Each morning she would emerge from her studio apartment, whip around to the the local Costa coffee shop to grab an Americano with two sugars and soy milk, pick up a buttery croissant from the Tesco next door, walk down two small side streets while pulling out her Oystar card and Kindle, and finally walk down the steps of Holland Park tube station to catch the 8:20 train. Elsa would do this every single day almost at the exact same second while passing the same people and observing the same advertisements boards. The only thing that changed in Elsa’s daily routine were the posters inside those advertisement boards.

Now if there was one part of the morning journey Elsa enjoyed, it was her trips on the 8:20 train. She had her own spot that she had managed to fend off from the other passengers over the years. It was at the left end of the middle carriage, right by an open window that blew in a gentle breeze that took away the unbearable heat of the underground. The usual passengers of the middle carriage knew this was the fierce looking business woman’s spot and no one dared approach her, coffee drinking, croissant eating, Kindle reading domain. They had seen young, over-confident businessmen stride up to her and mutter some cheesy chat up line about her slender figure or neat bun of white-gold hair. Each of these poor fools along with any other who disturbed Elsa during her morning journey all met the same fate. She would throw them an icy cold death stare that could turn the burliest soldiers into blubbering children. Elsa never needed to open her mouth or lower her Kindle, the stare would soon send the cause of the disruption to the other side of the train.

You can imagine her surprise then when one Monday morning Elsa’s train pulled up with a girl with fiery auburn hair wearing a smart business jacket, white shirt, and sleek black pencil skirt was already stood in her place, bobbing her head along to the no doubt jumpy pop tune playing through her white earphones. Elsa got onto the train looking paler than usual. Some of the passengers had noticed and were whispering to one another while they stared at this poor young redhead. Elsa was already in full death stare mode when the young woman finally looked up and caught Elsa’s eye. She looked down the train to some of the few staring passengers, then back at Elsa and gave a cute, oblivious smile. The smile was horribly infectious. Elsa could hardly maintain her death stare as she pursed her lips and bit on the side of her cheek to stop herself smiling back. The young woman carried on bobbing away to her songs, quite unaware of Elsa’s fury over losing her place on the train. Eventually the train pulled up at Elsa’s stop and she had to get off without gaining so much as an inch of her spot back.

Elsa brooded with silent anger for the rest of the day.

How dare she waltz onto my train and take my spot without a single thought, Elsa thought while she focused all of her fury into slamming down on the stapler to staple a series of important documents.

Now it might seem a little extreme, being so upset about a place to stand on a train, but Anna Renidens had quite innocently broken a silent rule of the London morning worker march. Never ever disrupt a person’s routine.

Elsa was quite sure that this smiling girl had no idea of important things such as a morning routine. She had contented herself then that this girl was subject to randomness and would quite happily be in a different carriage in another person’s spot the next day. Oh how wrong she had been.

The next morning Elsa’s face dropped when the 8:20 train pulled up at her stop and there stood that very same girl bobbing along to another tune. Elsa was distraught. How could this be? This was her spot and it had been for years now. How could this strangely energetic girl usurp her rightful spot in a day?

Elsa thudded onto the train with a face like thunder. Anna once again, broke her concentration away  from the fast paced beat of the song, looked up at Elsa and gave her the warmest look she could manage at 8:20 in the morning. Anna was quite confused why this tall, pretty business woman kept staring at her and giving her funny looks. Anna had only been in the city a month so she guessed that the early mornings did strange things to people here. Hell, the mornings were a struggle for Anna too. But the moment she stepped on the train and stood in this oddly cool spot, she felt wide awake and was gently dancing away to herself in seconds. She thought then that this blonde woman needed the same sort of pleasantness in her mornings so Anna decided to give her a cheery smile.

The days passed by and still Anna stood in Elsa’s spot every working morning without fail. Elsa was half tempted to get on the train on the weekend just so she could remember what it was like to stand there. Elsa’s fury grew stronger and stronger and still Anna stood there without any knowledge of the unspoken crime she had committed. One morning when the shop assistant at Tesco informed Elsa that her buttery croissant wasn’t going to be in stock today she had had enough. She flew down the corridors and escalators of the underground and stood waiting for the 8:20 train like a cat waiting for a mouse to come out of a hole in the wall. The train pulled up and sure enough, there stood Anna Renidens hungrily eating a rather large sandwich baguette. Elsa crossed to her in the blink of an eye. The passengers of the train looked on with bated breath, this was the confrontation they’d been expecting to see for just over a week now. Elsa was waiting for Anna to notice her standing a little too close. She was going over the clear set of arguments she had thought out on the way down when she actually looked at this girl for the first time. She had a light sprinkling of freckles across her cheeks, with pinkish-red lips and bright turquoise eyes. She was beautiful. Elsa was too lost in her thoughts to even realise that Anna had pulled out one ear phone and was asking her if she was okay.

“Hey, excuse me, are you feeling okay?” repeated Anna.

Elsa finally snapped out of her trance enough to make some attempt at speech, “Uh… um… well…”

Elsa couldn’t quite meet those brilliant eyes so she kept looking at Anna’s forehead instead so that this girl knew she was being addressed, to an extent.

“Oh my God,” said Anna as her eyes went wide with shock, “I have chocolate on my forehead don’t I? Oh my, I’m so sorry. Here I am dancing away to myself when in fact I’m being a disgrace to the entirety of London!” Anna began scrubbing at the middle of her forehead asking where the stain was.

This wasn’t how Elsa planned things to go. She hadn’t done anything to get her spot back. All she had managed to do was get this girl to draw attention to them both. Every eye of the passengers was on them now.

“No, no it isn’t that. There’s nothing on your forehead,” said Elsa impatiently.

“Oh. Phew! You have no idea how many times my mother used to warn me about that. She claimed that I once strode about for an entire day with half a chocolate bar melted on my head when I was a kid.”

Elsa blinked. She had no idea what was going on any more. She just wanted her place back, no matter how adorable this girl was being. “Listen… here’s the thing,” said Elsa now gone shy, “I… uh.. you see… this is where um-”

Anna looked on with that same cheery smile as Elsa stammered along.

“Your stood in my spot,” Elsa said after several attempts.

At first Anna laughed rather loudly. She had no idea this blonde woman was funny too. After Anna wiped a small tear from the corner of her eye she soon realised this was no joke. Elsa stood there with a stern expression set on her face, arms crossed firmly.

“Oh… You were serious?”

“Serious? Of course I am,” Elsa hissed, “I’ve stood in that same spot for the past two years. Every morning I get my coffee and croissant and read a book while standing in that very place. My spot.” Elsa’s face had slowly turned deeper shades of angry red, or pink in her case since her skin was so pale.

As for Anna, well this made no sense to her whatsoever. How could someone that pretty come onto a train and be so rude! Anna wasn’t giving this spot up now. “What makes it your spot?” she said, deciding to poke the beast of fury that was this blonde woman.

“Weren’t you listening? I’ve stood here for the past two years! This is my routine and no one interrupts. Especially by taking my spot.”

“Like hell this is your spot. I don’t see your name on it!” Anna retorted like that same small child who once had half a chocolate bar melted on her head, “Plus I was just starting to get real comfortable here. I think I might bring a fold up chair with me so I can stretch my legs out too.”

Elsa was beginning to defy her natural skin tone and was quickly reaching the deepest, darkest  reds. But before she could open her mouth and let loose on this infuriating girl, Elsa’s stop pulled up. Anna shot her a sly look of victory as Elsa stepped off and the train pulled away. Anna even had the nerve to give her a little wave.

It could only be expected then when the 8:20 train pulled up the next day with Anna grinning like the Cheshire cat, her hands on her hips, standing defiantly in Elsa’s spot. There would be no holding back today Elsa decided. As soon as the doors opened the arguing began. Elsa would lecture Anna over the importance of maintaining simple order so that everyone could have an organised and pleasant morning. Anna would disagree on every point she could, saying that Elsa was selfish, caring only about her own comfort.

“Of course people are selfish!” Elsa would cry, “This is London for heaven’s sake!”

And so this soon became the routine of Elsa, Anna and the passengers of the 8:20 train on the Central line. The train would pull up at Holland Park station, Elsa would get on, the passengers would moan and groan, and the two young businesswomen would begin arguing. Now people stayed away from the spot not because of an icy death stare, but because they didn’t want to get caught up in the unrelenting debate. Once a guard tried to break them up but Elsa and Anna turned their anger on the poor guard instead, both arguing against him until he backed out of the middle carriage and dared not come back in. Their arguments weren’t even about Elsa’s, or everyone’s as Anna insisted, spot. They would argue about books, movies, sushi, even the latest posters in the advertisements boards. Anna had the cheek one day to wait till the train arrived at Holland Park before pulling out a fold-up camping chair out of a rucksack and sat in it before the doors opened. Anna soon regretted this decision when the train started moving again and the chair slid out from underneath her. Elsa managed to catch her before she fell to the ground only to begin arguing with her about how much she liked to wind people up.

This all carried on for another few months until Elsa was off ill with the flu one day. Anna realised on that oddly quiet and lonely day that she actually enjoyed arguing with Elsa in the morning. She was wide awake every morning now, always set for her daily dose of Elsa confrontation. Through their countless arguments she got to know Elsa quite well, she knew what she liked, she certainly knew what she disliked, she knew how Elsa would purse her lips and bite her cheek when she didn’t want to burst out laughing or smile, she knew the way Elsa would dress on the certain days of the week. All of this was only the start of her Elsapedia. Anna wondered how on earth that in the few months of living in London, the person she knew the most about and liked the most was someone she argued with daily. Before her thoughts got carried away with themselves, Anna noticed that the passengers were enjoying the peace a little too much. She was half tempted to start arguing with the lot of them just to add some noise to that unfamiliar quiet.

The next day the 8:20 train pulled up to the platform and Elsa, despite being slightly fluey still, was ready to make up for the day of arguing she missed. She was shocked then when the doors opened to reveal her spot empty with not a flicker of auburn hair in sight. She tentatively stepped onto the train. Surely this is some kind of trick? She thought. She knew it had to be a trick. Any minute now Anna would probably run down the train and slide into the spot. Elsa looked down the train and saw Anna stood on the other side alone and beaming at her. Elsa quite forgot about the spot now. This simply wouldn’t do. How dare Anna move to the other side when there was a debate to be had! The passengers closest to the hotly contested spot sighed with relief as for the first time in months, they would be away from the ceaseless argument that began at 8:20 everyday. The passengers near Anna, however, looked on with horror as the tall, blonde businesswoman strode purposefully towards them.

“I demand to know the reason behind your sudden immigration to this side of the train! Do you care nothing for routine?” said Elsa gripping onto a nearby pole to steady herself.

Anna meanwhile continued to beam at Elsa as she enjoyed her attempts to start an argument about anything at all. Curiously, Elsa became redder with anger because Anna simply wouldn’t argue back, she only smiled. Elsa, to her own frustration, found herself admiring Anna’s features all over again.

“This is all a big trick isn’t it? To get me away from my spot! Well let me tell you, Anna Renidens-!”

“Would you be interested in going out for something to eat this evening?” said Anna looking down at the floor, occasionally casting shy glances back up at Elsa.

Elsa was taken aback. That was the last thing she expected Anna to say. She soon found herself stuttering as she had once done when she first spoke to Anna. This was also the first time Anna had said something that Elsa couldn’t or didn’t want to argue with.

“Wow, um- well, I mean… I’d love to.”

Both girls went pink to their ears.

“Finally!” Shouted a blonde boy further down the carriage.

Anonymous asked:I was reading your last response and the whole time I was like, “HIMYM scenario much?” and then you pointed out how HIMYM made the mistake of keeping a plan set before season 1 after nine seasons of character development. haha. I’d hope that’d be a cautionary take to all TV writers.

My response to the How I Met Your Mother finale:

9 years people. 9 years of my life I’ll never get back.  YES. How I Met Your Mother is THE primary example when your characters “outgrow” the plan but the writers are so obsessed with it, they don’t even notice. THEN, the finale airs and IT MAKES NO SENSE WHATSOEVER.

SPOILERS»»»»»»»»»

Keep reading