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autisticlancemcclain · 1 year

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Jackie supports the lion swap? How dare you!

Okay SO. This is not the first time I’ve gotten an ask or a comment like this, and I’m fully aware it’s a joke (or at least I think), but I also know that it is kind of a controversial topic on here! And I’ve already written an essay in the topic, but I have some more thoughts I’d like to dive into.

I used to be team Blue Paladin Lance, and hardcore on that team, too. If you look at some of my old fics, you’ll see that. However since I am a contrary person by nature, I started to notice that Red Paladin Lance was way less liked, and so I started to like it more. I really grew fond of the dynamic Keith and Lance got to have as co-leaders, both because it was homoerotic as hell and because the symbolism was fun to explore, but klance is not the main reason I started to care so deeply for the lion change — it was actually Shiro and Allura.

I’m going to start with Shiro, because he’s one of the most fascinating characters in VLD, if not underdeveloped. Part of that fascination for me is that he probably has the most arcs and opportunities for character growth and development in the show, and yet somehow he’s the flattest. He’s portrayed as very one-dimensional in a lot of fic — he tends to be less of a character and more of a role. He’s the Space Dad, or the older brother, or the cool teacher, or the kind and wise friend, or even the stoic Black Paladin. He is loved, I think, but the role he plays is loved, not quite the person he is. And that makes sense, because that is exactly how he’s portrayed in canon.

To Keith, Shiro is “like a brother to [him]”, but what do we see of that dynamic? The show has a clear sense of how a brother acts, that’s a good chunk of Pidge’s character. We barely even know Matt, but Pidge carries herself in such a way that it’s clear when her brother shines through her. And yet even though Shiro also goes missing, twice even, Shiro does not shine through his brother. Keith’s impulses are his own, developed from general abandonment issues rather than Shiro’s specific absence. Shiro’s absence becomes less of Shiro’s absence and more of an absence of a beloved leader figure, kind of a martyr, a “Shiro would have wanted you to carry on”. It is really hard for us as a fandom to use Shiro’s disappearance as anything but a plot device, because that’s all it felt like! We have occasional moments with Shiro, enough to care about him in some way, but as a figure, not as a person. Someone pointed it out on one of my fics and I agree wholeheartedly — Shiro is not shown with any flaws, and that makes it really hard to love him, because you don’t really get the pleasure of defending him, of seeing his motivations, his reasons. Not until the very end, at least.

This is, in all honesty, likely just poor writing. Shiro’s character was honestly just sidelined to a role, because he is really not that present in the show. But I am going to work with the benefit of the doubt, and see if I can use the lion change to explain why we all kind of love Shiro anyway, despite the fact that he’s flat as hell.

Shiro isn’t the Black Paladin. He never was. He flew the Black Lion, yes, and he flew her well — but he was never her Chosen. He couldn’t have been. From the very beginning, the Black Lion was in mourning; she was in no space to choose a new paladin. She accepted Shiro, and she loved him, but he did not fall into her as much as he fell into the role she provided for him. He piloted the Black Lion, but he was not her Paladin. This is made obvious in two ways: in that he never got her bayard, and that from the very beginning, he set up a replacement for himself.

Doesn’t that strike anyone else as odd? I haven’t seen the show in five years, and I don’t plan on rewatching, but I do remember that every moment with Shiro almost had this underlying tension. The closest thing I have to canon off the top of my head is the Handbook (which I had to stop reading because they did everyone SO dirty there, even though some of it was honestly pretty funny), which was released in S2, and even that incredibly early canon talked about Keith replacing Shiro!

From the very beginning, Shiro was planning an out to his role. He knew it was not meant for him. He did the role well, but it was not his to do.

Aside from those two reasons, Shiro also…can’t be the Black Paladin. He can’t be that and himself, I mean. This part is a little more complicated, so I’m going to borrow some of my own tags from some awesome fanart I saw:

I really do think Shiro is defined by his humanity (as is heavily implied by his illness — this is a character who is completely and totally bound to his mortality. Of all the other characters, he is the one most familiar with death, so he is the one who is most intimate with the raw fear of being human. But more on that later), but it’s my last comment that I want to focus on — “he is DEFINED by his his humanity…even as his greatest asset is the part of him that is not human”.

Every second that Shiro is leader of Voltron, he is the Champion. That can literally be his only goal — he is the head of the fight against Zarkon and the Empire. Either Shiro comes out the Champion, or Zarkon does. Either Shiro has to grit his teeth and fight off the flashbacks and the fear and the pain and use the one thing that forces him to reconcile with the fact that he had his entire personhood stripped away (his arm, his Galra arm, one of their biggest advantages as a team; his connection to Zarkon through Black, something that can only help the war effort at a direct cost to him; everything he does in this war is shoving him right back into that Arena again and again and again), or Zarkon wins. Every second Shiro pilots Black, every time he plays her paladin, he has to be who the Empire made him to be. He has to be the Champion. Once again he is not Takashi Shirogane, the person, the astronaut, the man, he is the Role. He is the Space Dad he is the Pilot of the Black Lion he is the Champion. For every second he is in that lion he is stripping away himself.

Obviously, that is something that was never sustainable. On this argument alone, Shiro was going to waste away eventually. There was always going to be a point where Shiro was not going to be able to be the Champion anymore. There was always, from the very way the dynamic was set up, going to have to be a lion switch. Now, interestingly enough, there could have been a really easy fix to this: Black Paladin Allura. She’s already a born and raised leader, already shown her immense competence, already someone the rest of the paladins follow. With her at the helm, nothing else would have to change, right?

Well, maybe. We’ll never know. One part of that is absolutely true — Allura should have been a paladin from the very beginning. Her quintessence is canonically closest to the entirety of Voltron (something that bears its own essay,; the relationship between all six of the paladins and Voltron is wrought with heavy symbolism), she is the most highly trained, she is smart, and she actually wants to be out on the field. She should have been in that armour from day one.

But Allura cannot be the Black Paladin. Allura cannot handle other’s sacrifice.

Of course this is a complicated subject. Should a leader sit back and let her crew sacrifice themselves instead of her? Must she hold herself in higher regard, convince herself she’s more important? Of course not! Teams, especially Voltron, are built with assets. While not everyone might be ‘equal’ in the traditional sense, they are all integral, and expecting sacrifices is not the stance I am trying to take here. But the point of a team, especially a team so small and vital as Voltron, is that everyone is willing to be the sacrifice, as they have to be, and Allura simply can’t handle that. She shows us this from the beginning, when she disguises herself as Galra and is taken in place of anyone on the team she barely knows, and again in Oriande with the White Lion, and finally in the piece of shit canon ending. Allura has to be the sacrifice. Every time.

And how could she not be? The last time she spared herself of sacrifice, she lost her entire people. The last time she let others sacrifice themselves for her, she was left alone, to shoulder a war bigger and greater than she could ever handle. Allura is painfully familiar with the agony of being the survivor, and she cannot do that again. She cannot and will not put herself through that again. As the Black Paladin, she would have to let her team make sacrifices — she would have to let them have their own agency, their own decisions; she would have to let them choose to get hurt and choose to do risky things and analyse and react and act. As leader she would have to trust her team to put themselves in harm’s way, and not only that, but she would have to authorize them to do so.

Like Shiro cannot last as the Champion, Allura cannot last as the Survivor. Shiro cannot even last in Voltron, and it is foolish to keep Allura out of it. A lion change is absolutely necessary for the show to move forward, for the war to move forward. The initial team was doomed to fail.

How would it change, then? What would fit? I know I’ve said my piece. I know who I think would fit where. But since I’ve been comparing character arcs to their roles as paladins, I’d like to keep doing that — what about Keith makes me so sure that he’s the true Black Paladin?

I’ll show you with process of elimination. I know Black Paladin Lance is a favourite, and I can see why. Lance has many leadership qualities, is a good tactician, and cares deeply. However, aside from his desire for power making him less suitable for the role, Lance functions best as support, despite how much he hates it. He is the one who knows how to pick up the pieces of a broken situation. He is an excellent guide, which makes him an unbelievably valuable second. He is adaptable, so he can fill in for many different roles. He can step in for leader when necessary, but putting him in Black would encourage a more active role for him; would force him to anticipate and plan for specific outcomes rather than his strength as one who analyses any outcome as it arises and works within it then. Lance could be the Black Paladin, yes, but taking him from the body and placing him in the head would be a fool’s choice. It would be crippling to Voltron, to put the jack of all trades as a master of one. Lance’s arc is all about learning to love and trust himself as he is, as the seventh wheel. Not to put him in charge of the vehicle.

Well, what about Hunk? Hunk is incredibly intelligent and analytical. He probably could lead Voltron, and did in several occasions. But Hunk’s arc is interesting because it was handled so early in the show. Unlike the rest of the team, Hunk’s arcs were solved largely in the first season. His biggest flaws were his distrust of people and, literally, his inability to fly. He could not take his feet off the ground. He was so untrusting that he could not manage to take a step forward. However his bonding with Yellow and trust with the team and their subsequent and returned trust resolved these issues, more or less, which is probably why Hunk was treated more and more like a side character the longer VLD went on. Hunk didn’t need the role of Black Paladin because he had settled into the Yellow Paladin in a way that was sustainable.

Pidge is in a similar boat. Her arc, primarily, has been about finding her family. Voltron was almost second priority for her, or at least not her only first priority. And understandably so! As the youngest she was afforded with that lenience. Her growth was about growing into her own pain, about becoming her own person alongside what she had become in the absence of her brother. As the Black Paladin, she would no longer have the space to prioritize her search for her family alongside Voltron, so her position as Black Paladin would be unstable. She is best suited in Green, where she can focus on several things at once.

That really only leaves Keith. In many ways it comes full circle — the Black Lion healing from her grief by choosing the man who ran from his Galran heritage and his power as a leader, rather than the man who chose nationalism and power over anything else. Keith is Zarkon’s direct opposite, and as such is the other side of the same coin, the one who is truly Black’s Chosen. We know this because Keith is the one who wields the Black Bayard, and Keith is, from the very beginning, the one the rest of the team chooses to follow — I ask you whether it was for Shiro that the three other humans ran off to chase in the desert, or Keith? Who was it that Lance could not leave alone? Who was it that piqued Hunk’s curiousity? Who was it that challenged Pidge to choose Voltron, rather than the search for her family?

That covers Black Paladin Keith. But what about Red Paladin Lance? I’ve established already why he cannot be the Black Paladin, but why did he have to move from Blue? For that, I bring you another few slices from early, S2 and previous canon:

“I thought what we had was special!” “Seventh wheel, if you count the Alteans.” More than once, Lance laments over being forgotten. He struggles with feeling like anything but the extra, the unnecessary. Whether or not Blue Chose him is irrelevant — he does not feel Chosen by her. The Pilot of the Blue Lion position for Lance is as unsustainable as the Pilot of the Black Lion position for Shiro — Lance does not trust it. He doesn’t trust himself in the role, and doesn’t trust Blue in having chosen it for him. Obviously, this is not the role for him.

But Red? Keith’s Red Paladin, at least? Yes, he struggles with feeling like Keith’s second, but that is literally his arc. Lance’s development is about becoming his own person despite his own misgivings about being second-best. His role as the Red Paladin is the fulfilling of his arc, and is thus the best Lion for him, the Chosen. And Red did Choose him, mind you. There was an adjustment period, of course there was, but Red did more than let Lance pilot her. She opened up new possibilities for Lance — think the broadsword — that he could not see. Red saw his potential and revelled in it. She Chose him.

Lastly — and this turned out to be less relevant to the essay than I expected, but I do want to go over it a tad — is Shiro’s tie to humanity. I mentioned two important points: Shiro’s connection to mortality makes him the most intimate with his humanity out of all the characters, and he is undoubtedly the flattest character of them all. That is, if you don’t consider his clone to be part of his character.

But I’m begging you to reconsider. Reconsider, perhaps, who the clone is — Haggar had pure access to Shiro for a year, you remember. His thoughts, his dreams, his mannerisms, his priorities, his body. Even him at his most human, his most deranged, his most scared. She had Shiro then. She had Shiro when he had nothing to look forward to. She had Shiro when he hurt his crew to make sure they would live, at direct cost to himself.

She stripped him of his humanity — his connection to his own mortality. She took his illness from him. And who, then, did she return to the team? Who was clone? Shiro, mostly. The clone was happy to play with the team. The clone was clever. The clone believed, fully, that he was Shiro, only he was angrier and meaner, a little, and less capable of shoving down his own pain. Shiro, stripped of his tie to humanity and mortality, stripped of his compulsive need to be strained and stressed and the one everyone else can rely on, the Role rather than the Person, is emotional. He has flaws and outbursts. He can’t manage his own pain. He is is cruelest to the one person on the team — Lance — who canonically reminds him closest of himself.

Shiro, in the purest form that Haggar can make him, is flawed and self-hating. That is where our love for him comes. Not the man who pushes himself down at the same time as he sacrifices his personality to be someone for others, but the man who is struggling and can’t keep it locked down. That’s where it comes from.

Anyways. Like with my other essay, I’ll admit that this analysis is probably reading into this. The writing of VLD was flawed, at best, but regardless, I think the lion change is a rich amalgamation of the characters and who they really are.

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frostycatblr-fandom-files · 1 year

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Sorry, Wrong Comms! : Hunter x Medic!Reader [Chapter 1]

Much more recently written fanfic I started to distract myself from the "mild" trauma of Season 2 finale based on ideas that wouldn't work for "Rough Stuff". This fic is absolutely RIFE with my personal headcanons. Clones deserved so much better, and I will be a giant mess when I get to Pong Krell in TWC as I have since started rewatching it.

Warnings & Information: Intended audience is 13+, 18 if you squint. Hurt+comfort material primarily; there is still a fair amount of angst, fluff, and all the good stuff. Reader has she/her pronouns. We really like italics in this house. Peep this for funsies for why I decide to use Mando'a. By no means comprehensive, in no particular order there will be: Mild injury description + care, blood, vague medical terminology (read as: pretending to understand medical stuff), use of restraints, needles (autoinjectors), near-death(s), nausea and non-descriptive mentions of vomit, Star Wars swearing, drugs (both medical and recreational references), minor adult themes + implications, avoidant behaviors, trickery and light mean teasing in the forms of siblings and crushes.

Series-inaccurate allusions to Crosshair never leaving Bad Batch post Order 66 execution [because while this is an AU fic, I am also very much an Avoidant Mess™], Batchers never meet Cid, fair chance of misremembering any referenced events from TCW series. Series accurate allusions and references to canon violence (AKA: literal war crimes, weapon injuries, etcetera).

Word-count: 4,637

She couldn't remember the last time she had a really, really bad day outside of her medical clinic. There was a tip-off that an abandoned medical center on a neighboring mining planet within the system had supplies too tantalizing to ignore. Valuable paraphernalia that was being phased out by this emerging Empire, ripe for the taking. Did the mining company really have to build this settlement on the steepest face of the mountain? No, they probably didn't realize how unstable, unsafe and ultimately unsuitable this location was while they riddled the inside of the mountain with tunnels as they harvested precious ore and minerals. This was a boomtown and it had completed two of the three strikes typical of such: strike it rich, strike it fast, strike it down. The people living and working here had to abandon it in a hurry before they demoed the place. This mining company hadn't done their proper research and now the shells of their temporary structures were all that remained.

But a scrappy little scavenger had found the medical center was still fairly flush with supplies and let the first medic who was willing to help them with their injuries know about the score. 'It'll be dangerous. If you're going, tell a friend so they know to come looking for you if you don't get back after a certain time. But these items are pre-Empire, they aren't making them like that anymore, so you'll want these. Trust me. I think you'll find them worth the risk of a rock slide or two.'

It. Was. Not. Not really, anyways.

She was just glad to be home now. Put the day behind her. No more rock slides. No more rusted shells of buildings that made for excellent deathtraps. No more falling halfway down the mountain she climbed up in the descent to her ship in the foothills and losing almost every last med supply she came with after slipping on a patch of loose, fine-grain sand just after navigating the maze of the medical center. She had to hobble down the rest of the mountain with nothing to clean out the open wounds and prayed to everything and anything that she didn't contract something that had leached into the rock as the by-products of mining and refinery. She had to stumble into her ship and send a message to her back-up at home that she was 'hurt pretty kriffing bad' but alive and would be back planet-side after dinner; don't wait up for me, I'm too damn tired to swing by after all. Tell the others I'm sorry.

Her instructors in med school would be having a conniption if they saw the way she had tended her wounds so lazily and would never let her hear the end of it for the juvenile, sloppy attempt to bandage the laceration on her dominant arm, but she was too tired to care. (But if she ever saw that scavenger again, she'd kill them for failing to mention several things. The collapsing roof in the west stock room, for starters.) She'd deal with it all properly in the morning. She just wanted to sleep after sucking down two tubes of nutrient paste and a mixed handful of painkillers and antibiotics to ward away pain and infection.

She picked up her datapad one last time and hissed a deliberate dictation into the mic after tugging the knot to the wrapping one last time for good measure. "I'll deal with that bantha fodder in the morning… Home safe. Going to bed. Goodnight."

She'd accidentally sent it to the wider group beyond the singular contact when five messages popped up in short succession.

Glad you're home safe. Sleep well, kid.

likewise

GOODNIGHT!:)

Yes, goodnight.

We'll see you in the morning, burc'ya.

Hopefully she'd feel well-rested with the sunrise. Crawling into her bed, she dropped heavily on her side and clutched a well worn Tooka doll in her favorite colors named after her very first childhood pet to her chest as she drew the covers up over her shoulders. Maker, she was so tired. It wouldn't take long before sleep came for her, feeling the first beckoning pulls on her eyelids after just a few moments.

Her comms gave a harsh screech, jolting her awake in her bed. Just when she had drifted off… This better be important. An actual karking emergency. Someone who had her personal frequency had better be dying if they were contacting her. "What."

There was a lot of shuffling and keypad beeping on the other end of the comms channel, but no one spoke right away. Just when she was about to either call out a hello? or simply disconnect her comlink, she heard someone speak up. Clone Sergeant Hunter. "Tech is this really necessary to keep the-"

"If we want an accurate oral temperature, yes."

There was a groan over the channel, then the sharp rustle as the comms got bumped or adjusted in Hunter's hand. "Well the longer I have it in my mouth the closer I feel to gaggin-"

She shot upright in her bunk, slightly grossed out and confused all at once. "What the kriff are you-!?"

The two Clones on the other end of the comlink gave their own startled shouts, realizing they had a disembodied voice suddenly joining their company. "[____]! How-?"

She was quick to cut Tech off, pulling the comlink closer to her face to amplify her furious tone of voice. "Did one of you seriously call me - in the middle of a medical check - when I'm trying to sleep!"

"Sorry, [____]." Hunter mumbled shamefully. "Must have switched on my comlink by mistake… Didn't mean to disturb you when I know you've had a hard day." What an understatement, Hunter. The impulsive venom in her mouth was hard to hold back, encouraged by her frustrations and discomforts bubbling over. "Hard day made harder thanks to you." She regretted it in a heartbeat. Thank the Maker the enhanced Clone wasn't in the room with her; he'd probably have been able to hear the way it skipped a beat if he was able to sense the beginnings of seismic activity, smell the way she felt her body begin to shiver in a forming, cold stress-sweat as the shame of her anger washed over her.

"You're right: let me make it up to you."

She was told to come over to the Batch's housing. Crosshair opened the blastdoor for her before she even had a chance to knock to avoid waking anyone sleeping if she used the buzzer. "He'll be in the main area."

"What, no "Hello, taking care of yourself like I told you to?" tonight, Cross? Even as a joke, after the day I've been having, to lighten the mood?"

There was a half-hearted scoff (or maybe that was a soft laugh) from the Clone at this."That's more Wrecker's thing," Cross drawled in a casual voice around a toothpick, sidestepping to let her squeeze inside, "and I'm not really interested in pretending I can't see that you are not taking care of yourself."

"No, of course not Mr. Sharp-eyed, Snarky Sniper. 'Cause I fall down the mountains of abandoned mining settlements for kriffing fun."

If Cross was phased by the uncharacteristic anger of the medic tonight, he didn't really show it. Just a little twitching pull of his upper lip on one side and half-lidded eyes that betrayed a bit of amusement and disappointment. "Mmp. C'mon, kid. I'll see if I can't find a half-decent ration bar somewhere around here for you."

"Not hungry, Cr-"

"Don't care." He interrupted in a brusque tone, not giving her the opportunity for excuses. Crosshair was the kinda guy who didn't like excuses, either in giving or getting, and could be quick to shut that kriff down. It was refreshing sometimes, but tonight it was just another mild annoyance of [____]'s day.

Whatever. She was going to go find Hunter where Cross said he'd be rather than waiting around in the entryway forever. "Skipping meals again, are we burc'ya?" As a medic, she often missed out on a meal or two while she was aiding the galaxy's sick and injured, and the unintentional habit carried over when she wasn't at the clinic. Something that made her friends fret over her like this. "For once I had all three meals. Only thing I swear went right today…" There was a pause as the medic heard a comment from the small kitchen on the left from the common room and she added with a gentle sigh, "aside from not breaking any bones during that nasty fall, too I guess."

Hunter looked relieved and genuinely proud of her, sincerely surprised she wasn't tired and hungry like many nights in the past. Crosshair just turned on his heel back into the kitchen unit without breaking his stride, after a little shuffling around in the cabinets [____] could hear the sink running. "Well that's… good! Proud of you, kid."

"...Than-"

Cross set the glass of water he'd filled for her in lieu of the ration bar down on a low table in the common room in the middle of the light conversation she was having with Hunter. "Here. I'll leave you two to it. Goodnight."

"U-um, thanks, Cross. Goodnight…" Cross nodded nonchalantly at her, next turning to his brother, who was quick to avoid his eyes before Crosshair just turned and left the two of them. Leave you two to it, what did he mean by that that had Hunter looking so nervous with a wave of color creeping up his neck from under the collar of a fresh nightshirt? "What's going on, Hunter? Do I need to be worried about something? Something show up on the health check? Do you need some nysillin tea or- s-something?"

Hunter shook his head, a tender, reassuring (and touched) smile slowly building. You could take the doctor out of the clinic, but you couldn't stop her from thinking about her job. "Nothing's wrong, k'uur... Just thought I was feeling a little under the weather, but I'm perfectly fine. It's nothing more than just making it up to you after waking you. Plus, for once, you won't have to patch your own wounds. Why not have someone take care of you the same way you take care of others?" It was the same thing he'd said to her at the end of their first of many interactions in this seedy little travel-hub. The time she'd undoubtedly saved Crosshair's life after he'd picked up a nasty little parasite while slogging through the swamps of some distant planet. Kashyyyk? It was probably Kashyyyk.

[____] was in a sour arrangement then with some smugglers with hair-trigger tempers to come and go as they pleased with her small clinic, and these Clones had been kind to remove the problem clientele "with discretion" as a way of paying her back. She'd saved their "stubborn vod". They saved her and now trusted her to treat their injuries no matter the cause, turning up at odd hours for the oddest of injury or malady. Complete faith in her in a hostile galaxy who now wanted… whatever it is they wanted with these Clones. She didn't ask. She didn't want to know.

She'd heard the stories from those who fled the war encroaching nearly every part of the galaxy. She'd heard of the war crimes, seen the horror and gore and bloodshed step into at least two of the medical centers she once worked in… known of an Order 66 and what became of much, if not all, of the Jedi… She didn't want to know. They often didn't want to tell, beyond giving vague recollections when they were making arrangements for short-term prescriptions for sleeping supplements with the medic when the nightmares were overwhelming.

Much like scouting the abandoned medical facility in an old mining boomtown for various 'sillin supplies, life seldom goes the way you wish.

"C'mere, ad'ika. Let's get you patched up." He patted the space beside him on the couch in invitation, pulling a medkit closer with the other hand all while looking at her with the same softness he often reserved for his sister. When [____] first met him, she could have sworn Omega was his daughter. "Unless you're not okay with that." Hunter added, addressing her hesitation he could hear in the rhythm of her pulse, her heart.

"I'm fine with it… just really tired and brain's kinda closing shop for the night. Sorry." Taking the seat indicated, [____] sunk back into the furniture, sighing. She didn't want to bring up why she was hesitating on him. He carried enough guilt as a participant in the old GAR… Hunter broke the seal on the new packet of medical tools, prepping everything he thought he'd need. "Don't be, ad'ika. Now, have you taken something for the pain already?"

"Rhetorical question for a medic, don't you think?" The tired, teasing question was met with a single chuckle. He knew she would have, he was just making small talk. "Anything else? Ask me if I'm taking any other kind of stim packs, or maybe I should lie about eating all my recommended fruits and vegetables?" It was a laugh from Hunter this time, deep and hearty and genuine from his chest.

"Are you?" Picking up a pre-moistened cleaning wipe from the little packet within the medkit, Hunter removed the sloppy wrappings around her dominant arm that [____] had applied before trying to call it a day and properly deal with everything in the morning. Dried smears of red lay underneath the gauze, something that made Hunter's gut drop slightly. Either she had done an uncharacteristically poor job cleaning her injuries, or these were more intensive than believed and they were slow-bleeders that hadn't scabbed over completely.

"Tck…Can't say I'm any better than most of my patients, if I'm honest." Hunter hummed slightly, gingerly blotting along the length of the mild laceration. It had to have been an unpleasant injury after losing all her emergency supplies and nothing to ease it right away until she stumbled back to her ship. It looked fairly deep to him, but couldn't be certain. "Mmh! That stings."

"'It's supposed to, little guy. Means it's working.' I swear Cross could have killed you with a look if the parasite wasn't actively killing him over being called a little guy like he was a kid."

"Ha-ha. Very funny, Tech." [____] half-heartedly mocked Hunter's sharp recollection of their first encounter, trying to stifle a coming yawn. That time felt so long ago now; longer than it actually was. "I was only trying to keep him calm and comfortable. I see a lot of children at my clinic so it's a habit I've de-developed… excuse me, sorry about that. People… don't exactly love doctors."

Hunter paused mid-blot, giving her a firm look to show her he was serious. Something in Hunter didn't like the way she'd said it, it didn't sit right with him. "Nonsense, cyar'ika. People love doctors; they just don't love going to them. Big difference. Trust me." Trust me like I trust you he wanted to say. He wouldn't. He believed it was mutually understood, no need for explicitly stating so (partly an old habit in thanks to how he communicated with many a vod during the war). "People…" Hunter tried further explaining, leaving out the "like us" he again believed didn't need to be said "...might be embarrassed, or fearful, or worried about going to the medic, but they understand they need to go because the medics will be able to make them better. They don't hate the doctor; they hate the doctor's office…" Hunter paused, digesting his own words with a questioning expression as he set aside the pre-moistened wipe, now soiled. "Now of course I think I just sound like I'm condescendingly explaining your own job to you."

"Heh. Don't worry about it. Too tired to care," the weary medic offered with a reassuring smile, leaning into the backrest of the couch with a slowing blink-rate. "I'm just more concerned about staying awake, while I'm the patient for once, for you."

For you. Something about it was unintentionally sweet to Hunter and made something within him flutter for a moment. That was happening a lot lately, every time he thought of her. He kept chalking it up to his enhancements and memories of the Kaminoans testing him and the others that remained of the experimental unit, the sharp sterility of antiseptic that lingered in her clinic and her clothing and her hair that sometimes turned his stomach, or simply a disconnected unfamiliarity with those who were not Clones… though, while perhaps he never felt truly connected with them and the way some called them the 'Sad Batch' (or called Omega a lab scabber) when they thought they could get away with it, they had still been his brothers in arms in the war.

A war they were still running from. One they nearly lost Crosshair to after 'things went screwy on Kaller' as Wrecker put it once. What an understatement… if Hunter hadn't been so insistent with the Shock Troopers down in the brig that the Batch stayed together to the point that they tased Hunter to shut him up instead of extracting Cross, then Crosshair likely would have been siphoned off to some corner of Tipoca City and had the activation of his inhibitor chip nudged along into unpleasant possibilities Hunter had nightmares about in addition to so many things he'd seen… done, during the Clone Wars. It'd been difficult, and he'd hated part of himself for it, but as they made their initial escape from Kamino, he threatened to stun Crosshair if he didn't kriffing shut up about following orders they didn't even understand for five minutes! so hard he wouldn't wake up until they reached the next star system.

There had been so much bickering. They still bickered even after Captain Rex got in touch with them, somehow, after they left Saleucami visiting the Lawquane family (which had been tricky and Tech worked the loophole that Crosshair could not report Cut for desertion because it had been the GAR when he went AWOL and now it no longer existed, it was the Empire now, right? half to death before Crosshair reluctantly let it be), and they got their chips removed in the rusted out shell of a Venator on Bracca and had been lured into a trap set by Tarkin back on Kamino. Because if Tarkin could not have this SpecOps force, nobody in the galaxy could; he'd aimed to wipe them out and they'd narrowly avoided being swallowed in the eternal seas of the closest thing they had to a homeworld.

It took a long time for the bickering to stop. They were at their throats for a while still until… Crosshair had gotten really, really sick.

That's what led to this friendship with a medic who had been willing to help them nearly a year ago. Though lately, it was feeling… different.

"Hey…" [____] broke the building silence while Hunter had been searching for a bacta patch, and Hunter initially worried he'd done something to tip her off to the personal burdens, the memories, he shouldered. "...weird question for ya, if that's okay."

"How weird?" Hunter tried, careful not to let the hesitancy and budding anxieties show in his voice. There's the karking things. He'd probably need a couple of them to make sure he had it covered so it would heal up nicely, quickly.

"Oh, not very. I just wanna pick your brain a bit."

Ah. Just curiosity. He affixed the first patch over the first half of the laceration, careful not to prod the bruised flesh with unnecessary pressure. "Alright, pick away."

"What is… your favorite memory? When you're having a bad day… what's the thing you think about that always cheers you up?"

"Heh… your day was really that bad that you're looking for advice from a soldier, doc?" Hunter teased, applying a second patch over the laceration. He wasn't sure what he could truthfully answer with while he was carefully measuring out a length of sterile gauze to hold the patches in place on her dominant arm, there being too many little, fleeting happy moments rather than significant memories to spin some story from. But he'd try. "I guess for me… it's less what I think of and more of what I do after a bad mission. Clean my gear. Tidy up my rack. Buff out my helmet-"

The medic smirked, a solitary, quiet laugh interrupting Hunter's train of thought.

Oh, Maker… he'd forgotten the suggestive context behind the phrase she often heard in the infancy of her profession in the midst of the Clone Wars. He'd heard she'd get the stray Clone on occasion at the large health center she was employed at once on a different planet but didn't know how much truth there was to it. "K'uur: that was not a euphemism."

That was met with a nervous giggle that made his stomach flutter. "S-sorry; old habits, and a non-professional setting where I can actually laugh." [____] offered meekly, face flushing with color while he wound the wrapping around her forearm. "C-continue, Hunter, please. 'Buff out your helmet' and...?" The unspoken what else on her tongue was permission enough to show she was serious about him continuing.

"And… check in with the others, I suppose. Make sure that everyone is okay. Spend time with them. Strengthen personal bonds."

A lot like what the two of them were doing now, he supposed. The unintentional check in. Taking care of her injuries while they sat side by side in the common room as the rest of the Batch were sleeping. Except maybe for Tech who often tinkered away on his datapad or the desk he'd squeezed into the room he shared with Wrecker (who wasn't bothered by a roommate with a propensity to dink around with some little gadget or piece of equipment when he was sleeping or resting) at these hours. Or Crosshair, who was often awake and asleep around the same times Hunter was, since they'd have muffled "conversations" through the walls when neither could sleep on occasion. But all was relatively still and quiet in each of his brother's rooms, and the steady rumble of the noise machine in Omega's room meant his sister was asleep.

Drumming rain and swirling waves. The perpetual ambiance of Kamino. He hoped the little machine replicating the soundscape engrained in her memories wouldn't cause her to dream of the Venator class ships bombing the cloning facilities tonight…

While Hunter had been lost in his senses, his worries, the medic had been busy mulling over his words. There was a ghost of a smile taking the place of the pained frown she previously bore. "That all sounds… really nice."

The last injury tended to, Hunter set everything aside and gave [____]'s shoulder a tender double-pat, feeling the tense muscles under his hand as he held his hand there after the friendly gesture. "There you go, ad'ika. All patched up."

"Thanks, appreciate the help Hunter. Could I… trouble you a little further by crashing here for the night? I don't think I'm in a fit state to get back home around now. Far, far too tired." It was definitely not a safe time for a woman to be walking by herself without a blaster, nevermind a tired, injured woman who'd been an invaluable friend to Clone Force 99. He'd never have sent her home to begin with, giving how deeply her chin dipped into her chest with fatigue. "No trouble at all; you're welcome to take my bed, if you want." Hunter offered, giving her shoulder a friendly squeeze. He'd sleep out here in the common room so none of his brothers would get any funny ideas if both he and the medic emerged from the smallest of all the bedrooms in the housing together.

Why the Sith's hells did he just think that?

[____] winced in mild complaint, laugh laced with pain. "Ow, that's quite a grip there, soldier!"

"Sorry," he apologized, "didn't realize how hard it'd be. You carry a lot of stress and tension in your shoulders, ad'ika… I can feel how stiff your muscles are. I… have some experience with providing some relief for that, thanks to all the practice I've had with Wrecker and Tech. Tech's posture is a mess-" He rolled the palm of his hand against her shoulder experimentally, gauging the pliability of the tensest muscle, and she leaned into it eagerly with a whimpering 'oh, Maker…!' surprising even herself. Hunter decided he'd stubbornly pretend not to imagine how not-so-innocent the sound was, to keep talking about his brothers and ignore the heat in his lower belly, another flutter of his heart. "Tech spends hours hunched over his datapad, or some little gadget, or spends hours in those rigid crash seats in the Marauder with his muscles wound so tight he's practically locked in place. Wrecker takes such a beating each mission it's just… uh,"

"A w-way of taking care of him afterwards?" She helped him where he faultured.

"Yeah. That's one part of it. Here, turn so I can get both shoulders." He had her melting under his touch quickly, the practically unhurried worship in this massage he was working into the medic's shoulders, neck, and the dominant arm. The muscles were so stiff and taut under her skin, under his ungloved hands. They were afraid to speak and break the reverence of this moment, the silent work of friend helping friend between each little involuntary sound of great relief or wince of brief pain as each tight, brow-bunching knot slowly surrendered. Her breathing pattern slowed as every minute elapsed between them beyond the gentle moans of relief as Hunter methodically kneaded the muscle free of tension with dexterous fingers. He wouldn't need to dig in so deeply like taking care of Wrecker's messes of well-defined muscle, for which he was grateful, to make any kind of progress, or go so tenderly to start with like he has to for Tech (on occasion) that the goggled Clone sometimes became a little impatient because he wasn't feeling any external relief. He could dip his fingers just a little deeper and just a little shallower, like those perpetual waves of Kamino replicated on Omega's sound machine, as he worked one muscle at a time for the unlikely friend who sat with him on the couch.

It felt roughly the same to strengthening the bonds of the squad to Hunter, but again there was that fluttering in his heart that suggested this was so very different when he realized that when he moved back to [____]'s neck one last time, at her asking, and planted one of his palms on the opposite side of her face to keep her steadied as he dug little circles around the tight muscles under the base of her skull with his thumb that she took one last deep breath and was soon asleep in half a heart's beat between them.

Hunter froze as he was, face hot in panic with the reality that he was now entirely supporting, for the moment, a female friend who was upright and asleep in his hands. Not knowing what to do just as the medic became more limp, he effectively locked himself in place when, on reflex, he caught her upper body against his before lowering it into his lap. A move he'd done a hundred times when one of the squad was this close to fainting out in the field.

Oh, you're kidding me… why the kriff did I do that?

[MASTERLIST] [NEXT]

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pastafossa · 2 months

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How do you get past writer's block? I have a fic that I'm working on that is updating on a schedule, and I made the mistake of giving myself a month off in between parts and now I can't really get back into writing it. I don't want to leave it abandoned because I have a few people who I know are really invested and I don't want to leave them hanging, but I'm having a hard time getting as excited to write it as I did before.

Ok so I'm in a weird place for this, hilariously. Because The Answer That Usually Works For Me (TM) and that carried me through a regular weekly update schedule for almost two and a half years is, in fact, not at present working for me apparently my brain can write through a pandemic but not through recovery from the shit that went down in December/Jan so we found my writing kryptonite. However, I'm going to assume you're closer to 2021 Pasta than 2024 Pasta. SO LET'S GO WITH THE METHOD I NORMALLY USE SINCE IT WAS SUCCESSFUL FOR YEARS. Cause that's the thing: sure, I've written almost a million words, and pumped out chapters for years (ignoring the past few months) but I promise, I hit the same walls as everyone else even when nailing weekly uploads. But over those years, I came up with a fairly solid list of steps that I'd go through one by one.

Fun one first: when I'm in a block, I almost always try re-engaging with canon first. I'd rewatch my favorite episodes, binge a whole season, or even the whole series depending on how much of a boost I needed. For me at least that was often like Pavlov's bell, my favorite story triggering a flood of affection. I'd remember why I loved this fandom and the characters so much, and it could often kickstart my brain and excitement back into gear. If you really want to dangle a carrot and your fic touches on canon, focus on watching parts you're excited to get to in your story. A big one for me in TRT for example was the post-Nobu, Nelson v. Murdock episode, since I'd had that planned for TRT almost since the start, and I was very excited to reach the hurt/comfort I had planned. Even if your fic isn't following canon though, see if it'll give you a creative rush again!

So let's say step 1 doesn't work, either because the canon just isn't hitting the spot or because your fic is dealing with something else. In this case, my next step was usually to jump ahead to write a scene I was really eager to get to. It was often a short blurb, but it was always something I REALLY wanted to explore, and because I'm also a reader who likes exactly the tropes and plots I'm writing, I want to read what fucking happens. Except, fuck, I'm not there yet, am I? And I can't see how that scene finishes until I write my way up to it and finish it. This is my own carrot. Multiple scenes in TRT were written months or even years in advance, simply as a way to bribe myself. This is also an option!

But maybe this doesn't work. Sometimes it didn't. This is when it got a bit more serious. For anyone who was reading at the time, you'd have noticed that I'd sometimes drop side fics, either Matt POVs or one-shots. This was me, in essence, working on the shower principle (basically, ideas/solutions will come if you stop thinking about it and do something else, like take a shower). I figured if I went and wrote something else - either with less stress, or something fun and dopamine-inducing - the part of my brain focused on my Big Fic would wander around the writer's block beneath my notice. And it almost always worked, all while I still kept my brain trained that, hey, even if we're not writing This Thing, we're still writing.

But let's say this doesn't work either. You're well, and truly, stuck. Been there now and then. And, you're going to hate this one. I hate it but it works 9 times of 10. And it is: Write anyway. Half of it was spite. I was not going to give up my schedule, I liked my schedule. The other half was that I knew myself. I knew if I could just get past the chapter/plot/dialogue I was struggling with, I'd be able to roll along again. And so I made a rule: whatever I wrote didn't have to be pretty. It just had to exist. If that meant I wrote, "Jane chased the cat in circles and caught it. She was happy." then that's what I wrote. Because everything, EVERYTHING, can be fixed in editing. But you can't fix what doesn't exist. And so there were those nights when I would scowl and groan and snarl and bash my head against that writer's block until 5 in the morning, but in the end Jane chased that fucking cat adn caught it, it was written. Hilariously, sometimes those chapters have wound up amazing (likely because I spent so much time hammering at them) and reader favorites. There are absolutely, I believe, moments where you can, and should, see if you can push through.

But that brings me to *waves* now. A lesson I've only recently recently and with encouragement. Namely... sometimes brain no go and that's ok. My steps work for me 99.9% of the time, but I've done the above during the past few months, and it just... hasn't dragged me out entirely out of it yet. Sometimes, our brains demand that break, especially when things just aren't going great. There's a reason TRT had a break of roughly 2 years between chapter 4 and chapter 5 (feel free to check the chapter index with dates on AO3!). I had some life things happening and I just was not in a place to write, even if I was still busily plotting and planning and thinking about TRT behind the scenes. And that was ok. We're not machines. I came back like a bulldozer in Jan 2021, yes, and bulldozed through weekly updates, but that break was needed. And now I'm obviously taking a short one again while I recover from everything. It's ok if you're not in a place for it. So the last step is one I've been told a lot by dear friends recently as they helped me through this: be kind to yourself, and try not to stress if none of the above works. The story will always be there, and if TRT is any indication through all its highs and lows, your readers will be there when you start up again.

#writer's block #i am on step five if that's not obvious and that's ok #steps 1-4 got me through about 2 years of writing and over a hundred chapters. damn near a mill words.#so i'm VERY confident it works most of the time #or it does for me anyway #just. you know. not all the time #what's funny is i suspect if you read all of trt knowing the above #you'll SEE these moments #moments where i clearly hit a chapter i'd written ahead of time cause it had more detail or more excitement radiating in my notes #alternatively no one has any idea which ones are which which is even funnier to me #look i do not judge *anyone* who just can't do weekly chapter #the pandemic was a weird period where i had the time to do that and the management required to keep up with it outside then is intense #like it's possible. i was doing it before shit started going sideways last year cause that was NOT my year basically from july onwards #but just be kind to yourself about it #the story will come #and your readers will be there for it

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novantinuum · 4 months

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heya! :D I'm so happy I found your blog, I just did a su rewatch this summer and I'm obsessed again! I was wondering if you had some fic recs to share? especially any and all that deal with steven's trauma (whether that be corruption aftermath, his abandonment issues, any of the traumatic experiences he had), anything really, just some nice and thorough hurt/comfort and healing <3 definitely up to any other recs you might have, even if they're about something completely different haha. thank you in advance!!

Ooooh heck yeah I can rec some of my favs! Admittedly, these days I haven't been reading that much new fic, so I'm not sure what new stuff is out there that's gone unnoticed, but I went through my bookmarks and found a few fics that still stand out to me today as ones I remember really vibing with when I read them-

First off, some fics that I remember delving into Steven's trauma (along other things)-

Aid to Navigation, by Ppleater (or @infriga here on tumblr)

Honest to god, this is my favorite Steven Universe fic on the whole goddamn internet. Post I Am My Monster hurt/comfort content galore. Emotional catharsis out the wazoo. Fascinating theorization about how Steven works as a hybrid. Sometimes there's even chapter artwork. ALSO NANEFUA AS AN IMPORTANT CHARACTER, WHICH I RARELY SEE LET'S GO NANEFUA

a world for the birds, by @fanfoolishness

Do you like Uncle Andy? Do you vibe with the idea of bird watching? Do you wanna read about Andy's outsider observations of the trajectory of his nephew's bizarre life as he shares his hobby of bird watching with Steven as a bonding activity over the years moving into the events of Steven Universe: Future??

Go read this fic, it destroys me. In fact, just do yourself a favor and check out this author's whole catalogue, because my next fic rec is from her, too.

Comminuted, by @fanfoolishness

Post Growing Pains hurt/comfort focused on Steven and his dad's relationship. I remember this one dropping pretty damn soon after the episode aired and it w r e c k e d my emotions and gave me all the catharsis my sappy little heart desired at the time.

WELCOME BACK TO THE VLOG, steven universe here! by waddlesthejoghog (or @thisisnotacreativeusername here on tumblr)

Here's a story with a COMPLETELY different format than all the others- this one chronicles Steven's life through a variety of videos he posts to his TubeTube channel over the years. (Which, if you watch the SU shorts, is a canonical fun fact about him! He posts unboxing videos and reactions and stuff online, ahah.)

Each chapter sorta like, "transcribes" what's happening in the video, and there's even a little views/likes/dislikes/subscriber count + mock comments section at the end of every one! I found it a very charming and fun read- but also it punched me in the face by the end because it's like a whole microcosm of Steven's character development throughout the entire show mashed into one 59 chapter story.

This one is not wholly focused on Steven's trauma, as it spans the events of the entire show, but that does play a decently big role later on in the fic.

As a quick little self-plug, I've also written a good deal of fics focused on various shades of Steven's traumatic experiences, and the following is (probably) my favorite of those:

A Memoir of the Marks Unseen (uhh... by me lol)

This one is focused on the topic of Steven + the headcanon of him having corruption scars like the other healed Gems, and picks up pretty soon after I Am My Monster. It spans months (and later Years) after that, detailing his journey towards accepting these remnants as a neutral part of him. I'm still very proud of finishing it, as I was pulling from some raw personal experience with this one.

Lastly, here's two Connie focused fics I remember slapping ass in their own various ways:

Xenopology, by CompletelyDifferent

Some Connie + all the Gems character study pieces!

The Stranger in Me, by Cyberwraith9

Connie accidentally gets perma-bonded with a poofed gemstone retrieved from a corrupted Gem. Hijinks ensue. I remember this one having a legendary level of character development for Connie and her whole family especially ;w;

#jen rambles #su #su fanfiction #su fic rec

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finitepeace · 1 month

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Jan-Mar Reads: fics based on k-c dramas!

I was trying to stop re-watching dramas because it always lead to lot of time wasted rewatching the whole drama. Then it hit me, just read the fics!

Here are some fics based on Kdrama and Cdrama I read in the past three months

Seven Days Into Forever by Otterpuff31 | T, 34k words, modern AU | Being the only two single people at a couples' resort, Hae Soo and Wang So naturally gravitated toward each other, spending one of the best weeks of their lives together. But what happens when they meet again in Seoul, with the complications of work, family and something they might have brought back from their vacation fling?

As You Held Onto Me by evil_writer | T, 14.5k words, epilogue | Before: He sits with her until the sun peeks through that place where the earth ends and the sky begins. // After: Is it possible to miss people you have no recollection of? She’s living, breathing proof. Or; a stitched together, soft epilogue

[your love is like wine] by childlikeempress | E, 4k words, missing scenes | So x Soo oneshots that have our favorite couple in various compromising positions and states of undress.

Fate's Shadow by BubbleTurtle | M, 188K words, canon divergence | What if Hae Su's position in the palace had been different? A re-telling of Moon Lovers from Episode 6 onwards, with inspiration drawn from Bubujingxin and also how I wish things had worked out.

By the Moon and Sky by alice_time | M, 44k words, wolf AU | In which there are werewolves in ancient imperial China and Ling Buyi has at last met his fated mate, but must wait for her to mature.

水月鏡花 | mirrors, myths, mirages by hotaruyy | 37k words, M, face swap AU | Or, tragedy befalls the Chengs, and Cheng Shaoshang is taken in and raised by a common healer. Some things change. Other things stay the same.

Infinity by MoodyScorpio | 155k words, M, shaoshang wasn't abandoned by her parents AU | What if all the misfortune that befell onto Shaoshang had just been a series of nightmares Yuanyi had while she was pregnant with twins? What if they changed the course of events and gave Shaoshang a better life, happy life, life free of torment and heartache?

I would choose you in every lifetime by Apple_95 | M, 5.5k words | In which, Bu-yeon doesn’t need the egg stone to start to remember, only Jang UK. However, somehow her husband gets jealously of her past lover.

Consolation by Repeatinglitanies | E, 2.8k words | Jang Uk had an inkling Jin Buyeon would be dangerous. Which is why he took it upon himself to stay away from the Jang family compound for long stretches of time. Only to find, on the night he returned, that Jin Buyeon was waiting for him. In his room. On his bed.

#kdrama #cdrama #cdrama fic rec #kdrama fic rec #alchemy of souls #love like galaxy #moon lovers: scarlet heart ryeo #not my usual read

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1-800-local-slut · 7 months

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I’m rewatching season 9 of Supernatural and it’s making me crave Cas fics. Maybe something where the reader met him as Steve but now he’s back to full angel mojo

Can I Get A Large Slushie?

Season 9 Castiel x Black! Reader

Warnings: drunk reader, heartbreak (on readers end), reader and Cas don't end up together romantically, it's more so an experience, i don't know why I can't write Cas that way but I think he's literally just too majestic for me. He's also weirdly hard for me to write so I'm sorry this isn't one of my better works

1.7k words

Likes, reblogs and comments are greatly appreciated! Also sorry this took so long, I got really busy </3

She could still remember that day like it was yesterday. The cold afternoon breeze that blew over her arms that night. The night when it was the beginning of everything she ever knew changed.

Drunk tears streamed down her face, her white dress a muddled mess around her lower body. It was supposed to be her night. It was supposed to be for her, with her friends and family all there to celebrate her engagement. Yet, after half an hour, her ex-fiance was caught with his pants around his ankles and buried in her aunt Nella. All she could do was run. She ran out of that party like a bat out of hell. Where was she even going? Perhaps her location was the gas station.

She ran, until she abandoned her heels in her purse, her flask was empty and the Sun had long since set behind her.

Then she was there. Tipsy, depressed and at a gas station. Mascara streamed down her dark skin in big gooey chunks, and she wanted to rip off her false lashes. Even her wig was bothering her. A chilled breeze blew through the night sky, and she shivered. Rubbing her arms up and down her soft skin she looked up through tear filled lashes at the glowing sign.

If there was any place to wait for her Uber, she supposed it was better than the street. The door felt cold against her bare arms. Looking back, it was a cold night. That night gave her a distinct fondness for the cold. The AC blasted over her, as she looked around. The whiteness of the room blinded her. She called her Uber, probably the least important aspect of her night. She saw him then.

He was standing near the slushie machine, he was certainly handsome. Tall, with brown hair, gorgeous blue eyes, and pink lips. Perhaps if she wasn’t spending unnecessary time worrying about a man who cracked her heart in two, she would’ve taken a chance with him.

Sliding next to him, she glanced down at her phone again ‘Mickey, 8 minutes away’. How she wished she had more than those eight minutes.

“Is there something you need ma’am?” The voice startled her. She wasn’t expecting him to speak, in her 29 years of living she can’t really remember ever speaking to a gas station attendant.

“Yeah…can I get a large slushie?” She slurred and hiccuped. Oh what a fool she made of herself! If she could go back, she would’ve gone in there perfectly sober and asked for more than a slushie from him.

“Sure, you know if you mix 50% red and 50% blue together it’ll make a perfect shade of purple? Most people end up with either too much red or blue, so if we fill it up to the top of the ‘e’ with the first color, it’ll be a perfect 50%, and the rest will make it a perfect mix.” He enthused, pulling out a cup but dropping a few more on the ground. She flailed in an attempt to grab them, and she followed suit. After a few ungraceful moments her slushie was being poured, half red and half blue. Then, he (with a shocking amount of enthusiasm) shook up her drinking and placed a gorgeous colored concoction.

Maybe it was the liquor that did her in. The liquor that brought tears to her eyes, and made her start to cry once more.

“This is the nicest thing ever, thank you…” with a squint, she leaned in and read his name tag. “Steve. That’s a nice name, I knew a guy named Steve once. He was great, you know. He was a nice guy, dude smelled funky though.” With a pathetic whimper, Steve chuckled and led her away to the cash register.

For some reason, her heart thumped in her chest. Perhaps from the copious amounts of casamigos thrumming through her blood.

“Well hopefully, he smells better now.” Steve chuckled and she took a long and hard sip from her slushie, the cold freezing over her pained heart. With a swipe of her credit card, her slushie was paid for.

“I hope you have a better night than you’ve been having so far.” Steve grinned widely and she chuckled. A smile came over her sore features. How tired she was. Even talking hurt but in her drunken state it was all she wanted to do.

“Why thank you Steve, you’re such a sweetie pie! Oh but my night can’t get better. My life can’t either.” She sighed, laying her arm and head onto the counter. She can still recall Steve’s blue eyes glancing over her face.

“My fiance, or ex, or uncle or something. He plowed my aunt at our engagement party. Sure she’s only like six years older, but that’s still so weird. He already had me, who goes for a downgrade? Here I am. Sad, drunk, kind of sleepy. This slurpee is really good, thank you so much.” Her rant left her out of breath. He really was an angel, to listen to her depressing details of her life. A sigh that seemingly deflated her body made Steve rest his chin on his hands.

“Huh…I’m sorry that happened to you.” The response was earnest.

“I’m sorry it happened to me too.” Whipping tears from her eyes, and the streaks of mascara from her eyes. Her phone buzzed, ‘Mickey has arrived’.

“My Uber’s here.” She swallowed another giant gulp of her slushie.

“Okay, have a nice night!” Steve waved as the woman blinked in confusion, pushing herself off the countertop.

“You’re a very cheerful gentleman.” She waved back with a giggle and stumbled off into the night.

༻༺༻༺༻༺༻༺༻༺༻༺༻༺༻༺༻༺༻༺༻༺༻༺༻༺༻༺

The next time she saw him, it was two weeks later. She went back to the store, craving yet another perfect slushie, and exhausted from the moving process. After kicking her ex to the curb, she was finally completely moved out. A nice little apartment that she’d spend the next three years off her life in even though she didn’t know it yet.

Pushing open the door, the AC blasted against her warm skin once more.Her beeline to the slushie machine was quick, and before she knew it she was faced to face with Steve again.

“Hello there Steve.” He turned around, and grinned at her with a level of excitement someone who loved their job could have.

“Good afternoon, how are you doing today?” He asked her. Something about him drew her in. What was it though? Was it his generosity? Was it his simple naivety? No, but what was it?

“I’m doing just fine.” With a chuckle, she swiped her card. And feeling brand new from just being near Steve for some reason, she went on about her day.

༻༺༻༺༻༺༻༺༻༺༻༺༻༺༻༺༻༺༻༺༻༺༻༺༻༺༻༺

It had gotten to the point where if you cut her open, she would’ve bled that delicious purple she’d been consuming on a near daily basis. Their conversations, about essentially nothing, were just filled with sweet nothings. It was like speaking to a person with a pure view. For a moment, just a moment each day, it cleared her mind of all the pain she’d been forced to endure. Until one day, Steve’s innocent glee was missing.

“Are you alright Steve?” She asked, while grabbing a pack of gum while she shook her cup around.

“I’m just thinking. Can I ask you something?” He took the gum from her and ran it over the scanner. Taking it back, she pulled out six dollars and prepared for her change.

“Sure, I’ve asked you plenty of questions.”

“When you know you belong somewhere else doing something else, but you’re forced to be something you don’t want to be, what do you do?” A silence settled between the two of them.

“I think you should do what you’re meant to do the best way you can. Even if you can’t do it the same way anymore.” She responded, sliding her gum into her purse.

“I think so too.” He gave her a tight lipped smile and a small wave goodbye. It was the last time for a while that she would see Steve.

༻༺༻༺༻༺༻༺༻༺༻༺༻༺༻༺༻༺༻༺༻༺༻༺༻༺༻༺

The next time it was six weeks later. Life moved on of course. She still had slushie’s just not as often. Without Steve, there was no point in going every day. Still her heart couldn’t forget him. Nothing ever happened between the two. Nothing more than thoughtful and absent minded conversations. Still he left some sort of gap in her heart.

༻༺༻༺༻༺༻༺༻༺༻༺༻༺༻༺༻༺༻༺༻༺༻༺༻༺༻༺

“Hi there, my name is Jack Matherson, this is my partner David Kendall. We’re detectives looking into the break in across the street, may we come in?” But when she saw ‘David’ her entire world melted. Instead it was Steve. At her flower shop, standing next to a very handsome man.

“Sure…sure of course you can.” The two stepped in, and Steve or David or whatever his name was seemed to barely notice her. There he was right there, and this entire time she had been wondering where he had gone. What had happened to that silly guy from the gas station? Now here he was, a very well dressed cop in a trench coat.

He looked far more serious now, as if he was intent on whatever his mission was. Even the air around him felt far more cleansing. More so like whatever she had done in her life was judged and forgiven in his presence. He walked around absentmindedly, whispering to his green eyed partner. For a fast moment, they made eye contact.

“Hello there, it’s good to see you again.” She swallowed thickly. Was his voice always so gruff? Was this the thing he wanted to do the best way he could? It seemed like it, the way he was so domineering in the strangest way.

“You too.” With a quick nod, she slipped away into the back. Now she curses herself, for running away from someone who made her feel so oddly full. Not complete, but like a part of her was added, one that she never even knew she wanted.

Now, she was slurping on a large slurpee, her tongue staining purple and she sat on her window sill. Years later, she still thinks about him. She still thinks about how his energy brought many changes. Something about him illuminated something…untouchable? Unique. No, divine. Divine was the only word that could be used to describe the feeling that the presence of Steve brought.

Now she was sitting at her window sill, slurpy finished, and missing that feeling and her Steve more than anything.

#x black reader #black reader #x reader #fem reader #dean winchester #sam winchester #supernatural #castiel #supernatural x you #castiel x reader #castiel x you

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lovesickfolly · 9 months

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tagged by @aleng-neng. What are my fave top 9 shows in no particular order. (All of these I have at 10/10.) I'll only pick recent shows, as they're the ones I have listed on MyDramaList and thus have a ranking for. XD This means it's mostly bls and cdramas. 1. Moonlight Chicken.

One of my feelgood shows, even though it's still new. It feels comfortable and adult and grounded, with a bunch of amazing actors who are clearly comfortable with each other. As an 'older queer' it resonates with me a lot and I didn't dislike a single thing about it.

2. The Blood of Youth.

A really fun show with gorgeous, engaging characters and the right mix of beautiful scenery, beautiful people, and creative storytelling that I like. Sprinkle in some excellent fight scenes and a bunch of my favourite actors and I'm sold!

3. Old Fashion Cupcake.

I talked about mature stories earlier and this is another one of those. I could see myself in the main lead just a bit too much for me not to love this. Nozue recognizes that he's maybe stuck in a rut and complacent when he doesn't have to be. And, maybe, that handsome junior at the firm could help him get out of it (and make him recognize he's not straight).

4. KinnPorsche.

Look, I know it has its issues. I know. And I know people have an issue with some of the fandom. I get it and for the most part I agree. However, this was the first BL in a long time that I had the urge to write fic for. I enjoyed the complexity of the universe and the characters that much. (Even if some of it didn't make sense. but that's half the fun!) And that's why I like it. It got my brain involved. (And I just adore Tankhun, okay.)

5. Word of Honor.

Years ago I watched a few cdramas and then...somehow forgot about them? (I don't know how I did that.) However, back in 2019 I got back into them and eventually stumbled upon The Untamed. 'This is the pinnacle of cdrama for me and my tastes!' I thought. But then Word of Honor showed up. Look, everything about this show is stunning. The story, the characters, the setting, the clear and unadulterated love between the two main characters. Everything and everyone is beautiful and I've never gone through a cdrama as fast as I did this one. It's beautiful in ever sense of the word. And so, so queer. Don't believe me? Just search 'word of honor cdrama' in the gif section on tumblr and marvel at the art.

6. A Tale of Thousand Stars.

This is not the first Thai BL I watched, but it almost feels like it? Because ATOTS is the first one I remember going crazy about (and it set me on the road to basically loving everything EarthMix are in together). I was super invested and wanted to draw art and everything. It's just such a nice, soft, romantic story and the characters are so fun. This is probably the one I've rewatched the most.

7. Semantic Error.

As you can tell, I generally like stories that feel far away from home. I like magic and fantasy and settings that aren't typical. However, this is one of the few exceptions. I think it's the characters and their journey and the perfect execution of tropes that would have felt stale in any other show. It's a fun story with excellent characters and I get why it's so popular.

8. Mysterious Lotus Casebook.

Technically, I can't say this show is 10/10 yet because it still has a bunch of episodes to go. However, I can tell it's going to get close at least. (And will probably get to 10.) I keep comparing it to a perfect blend of The Blood of Youth and A League of Nobleman, in that it's a fantasy world with a master swordsman who's dying (and begrudgingly adopts a cute puppy who loves him) and a bunch of cases that need solving (to unravel the overarching plot). It's so much fun and the settings + characters are so beautiful. (And I may or may not heavily ship the loyal, eager puppy with the stoic, lying dying man who tries to push him away (and literally abandon him) in an attempt to keep him safe (from harm and heartache).) The hurt/comfort and love against all odds is strong in this one! He gave up his lifelong dream to protect a man who's been lying to him ever since they met and whom is at that point a wanted fugitive!! Because he trusts and loves him so. Also, it has a bunch of very handsome and gorgeous actors/characters in it, whom I love (and who suffer beautifully).

9. ??? I only have 8 shows that I've given 10/10 to (or a prospective 10/10, lol), so I'll just leave you with some other recommended shows that came close! Bad Buddy

Between Us

Choco Milk Shake

Ten Miles of Peach Blossoms

My Only 12%

Ancient Love Poetry

That's it! I invested way too much effort into this, but...it was fun? Sorry for clogging up your timelines with this, though!

#tag game #arcana's 10/10

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unknown-lifeform · 7 months

Text

Feel free to skip this if you're not familiar with the movies, but in honor of Halloween, a ffvii/Alien crossover: What would Genesis do, Cloud thought distantly, slotted in the fire materia, and stepped towards the Alien queen and her prey. "Get away from him, you bitch!"

@soawen ooh spooky themed! I haven't rewatched Alien in way too long but I think I remember enough to write up a little something. Some warning about general horror stuff for the fic ahead

-----

Cloud swallowed down his grunts of pain as he walked. His ankle protested with every step he took. Not broken, no way he would be able to keep going otherwise, but it was going to swell up twice the size soon enough.

If he lived long enough to see that bruise, well that'd be a real miracle. The only way would be to grab an escape ship. But Cloud had been forced to run in the opposite direction to avoid being killed. Besides that, he couldn't in his right mind leave this place and abandon whoever else may be left alive.

He had to lean against a wall, grimacing. It hurt. What was he even walking for? From what he knew, everyone else here was dead, and Cloud couldn't outrun the facehuggers forever.

Maybe he should keep going until he found a gun, at least. If he was going to die that'd hurt less, and give the aliens one less chance to reproduce.

The next step almost had his ankle buckle. What had made Cloud ever decide to sign up for this? Being one of the first settlers on a new planet paid good, but no amount of money was worth dying this way. No glory to be had, not when Cloud was just part of base security. Sure, he got to run away from all the mistakes he had made and all the people he had disappointed, and what a great fucking fresh start he had had.

Slowly, he peeked around a corner. No monsters. There was a corpse, tough.

Cloud limped to it. Not someone he knew personally, at the very least. He didn't think he could take seeing more friends burst open.

The blood was starting to dry out. Cloud hoped that meant the alien baby had long since ran off already, and that it wasn't hiding around somewhere. Not that there were lots of places to hide here.

Cloud dropped down to his knees, trying to look anywhere but inside the gaping hole in this poor bastard's chest. Quickly, he patted down the corpse. Please have a gun, please have a gun-

Something hard under the sleeve. Cloud pushed it up, and found a Materia vambrace.

Now that was a find. Not everyone here could afford to have Materia. Few planets produced it aside from Earth, making it extremely valuable. Cloud had gotten a little training from Genesis, but he didn't have his own.

Fuck, Genesis. Where was he? Cloud hadn't seen him among the bodies. Hopefully he was still kicking somewhere, or had found a way out. He could be a pain in the ass, but a good guy in the end. Right after getting here Cloud had been put under Genesis's supervision, and his training might be the only reason Cloud was still alive.

It figured that if someone could get out of here alive it'd be Genesis, or someone else on his level. Sure as hell not a shmuck like Cloud.

He quickly secured the vambrace on his own arm. There was one enhancement equipped, but nothing really useful. He searched the corpse's pockets.

A screech. Cloud's head whipped around. He couldn't see it, but it had to be nearby. Fuck. His fingers closed around a round, smooth object. Struggling not to whimper, Cloud pocketed the Materia and got back to his feet.

As fast as he could, he walked down the hallway, trying to get away from the noises. Hopefully he hadn't been spotted. These things were good, if one of them was stalking Cloud it wouldn't let him hear it. Unless it was drawing Cloud into an ambush. But it only took a single alien to kill some scrawny little human, no need for pack hunting.

He turned a corner. A second. More corpses, that Cloud refused to look at too closely. The pale body of a chestbuster, that someone must have managed to kill when it was still in its vulnerable early moments. One yellow, sizzling stain on the wall, that Cloud tried to avoid.

Another corner, and Cloud almost screamed. It was fucking big. The aliens he had seen so far weren't this large. For a moment, Cloud accepted that this was it.

Except. It wasn't moving. The thing laid on the ground, head turned Cloud's way, but completely still. More of those stains were around its body. Dead.

So someone else was alive, and armed. Or at least they had been recently. That gave Cloud a little hope that not everyone was lost.

Carefully, he stepped closer to the dead alien. When they had first realized the breach, before everything had gone to shit, someone had said that they had heard of something like this before. Horrible parasitic aliens, that was. They said from what little was known they likely acted like ants, with one big queen and lots of smaller workers.

Now... was this a queen? It was bigger than the others, Cloud was sure, but not by a lot. Not many differences aside from the size. Maybe it was a normal alien, just slightly bigger.

Cloud jumped when he heard the sound of a gunshot. There was someone else. Forgetting all about the pain, he almost ran towards the noise. This way should be towards the storage rooms, which was still far from the escape ships, but two people had better chances of running than one.

More gunshots. A low hiss, barely audible, but that still sent shivers down Cloud's back. Screams of anger.

Wait. He knew that voice. It was Zack. Also security, but in a different team than Cloud, his supervisor was Angeal. Zack was a good guy, he knew what he was doing.

At the last moment, before entering the room Zack and the alien was in, Cloud stopped to carefully peek in instead of bursting inside. His blood froze over.

That had to be the queen. It was huge. Way, way bigger than all the rest. And so fucking ugly, massive head, multiple reaching arms. It had Zack in a corner, and he was shooting at her, but the bullets just ricocheted off its exoskeleton.

Cloud felt about to faint just seeing it.

Zack's gun clicked. He swore, but no more bullets came out. The queen made a noise that could not be further from human, but still felt like laughter.

"Fuck you!" Zack shouted, a last helpless attempt at standing strong.

Cloud's hand slipped into his pocket. The Materia was there, ever so slightly warm against his finger. Fire. Good offensive power, it could help Cloud run.

The queen stepped closer to Zack, slowly, apparently toying with its food.

Was there literally anyone else left alive here, but Cloud and Zack?

What would Genesis do, Cloud thought distantly. Shaking, he slotted in the Fire Materia, and stepped towards the Alien queen and its prey. "Get away from him, you bitch!"

The monster turned towards him. A mouth that could easily bite his head off opened to let out a growl.

"Run!" Zack shouted. As if Cloud could, in the state he was in. As if it would be any use now that this thing had spotted him.

"I said get away," Cloud shouted, fighting the shake in his voice that had joined the one in his legs.

The queen stepped towards him, snapping her jaws.

Now Cloud, he was good enough with Materia. Genesis taught it well. Fire was one of his favorites, too. Despite the terror, it was easy for Cloud to lit the first spark, and then let it blaze into a wave of flames.

This time the queen didn't brush it off like it did with the bullets. A terrified screech came from it, and it jumped back, trying to put some distance between itself and the heat. Fire, huh. Of all things, something as basic as fire scared these things off.

Cloud kept it going. Lighting the fire up turned draining fast, but he didn't let up. He kept the flames going and was rewarded with the screams turning from fear to what might be pain.

But a spell couldn't be held up forever. Eventually the fire fizzled out, and Cloud was blind for a moment at the sudden lack of light.

The queen was stumbling. Not dead yet, not even after being submerged in enough fire to char most other living things. The exoskeleton looked damaged, but it stood.

"In the back!" Zack shouted. He made a dash towards the door, using the interruption to escape. "There's fuel in the back!"

Storage room. Cloud had aimed his fire at the queen, closer to him, but he could see the containers lined by the far wall. Between him and those, what he hadn't noticed so far: the eggs. So many of them.

Cloud lit the flames a second time, aiming for the eggs. The queen screamed, turning to its quickly cooking brood. It looked torn for a moment, as if not knowing whether to protect them or attack Cloud.

The tongues of fire reached past the eggs, and to the fuel.

Zack and Cloud were blown backwards by the explosion. Cloud's face burnt.

"Come on," Zack said, grabbing Cloud by the arm. "We gotta run."

"My leg," Cloud gasped.

"I'll help, just run!"

Struggling, Cloud managed to stand, one arm around Zack's shoulders. His ears rang. He could barely make out the crackle of fire and the pained shots of the queen.

They had barely managed to reach the next hallway before a second boom shook the air, and the heat behind them increased. There had to be multiple containers there. Some Cloud had lit up, and some had managed to resist the fire for a couple minutes.

In theory, all fuel was stored in high-safety, fireproof containers, so that even if one lit up the others might be able to resist. Clearly someone had lied about that. Not that Cloud would complain about it now.

"Is there anyone else left?" Zack asked.

"Not that I know of."

"Fuck. Alright, we gotta head towards the escape ships, other people might be down there."

Cloud hissed, his ankle about to give out for good. "There's plenty of those there."

"They might be confused if the queen is killed," Zack said, and then laughed. "Shit, man, you're a blessing. I was about done there."

Despite the pain, Cloud managed to grin. Shit, he had done that. Set the bitch right on fire and all. He couldn't believe it. And they still had the Materia, they could take on more of these things with it until they found more weapons.

Maybe he was going to come out alive of this.

#ff7 #my writing #cloud strife #thanks for the prompt!#love giving cloud even more problems with more types of murder aliens

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watchingspnagain · 7 days

Text

Rewatching The End

Welcome to “Beware the Toilet Paper Horde!: A Supernatural Rewatch Blog” with Lor and Mace!

Up today, s5e4: The End.

Dean is at a hotel taking a quick sleep break from hunting for a way to kill Lucifer with Cas. Cas agrees to meet him in the morning. Before Dean can conk out, Sam calls, wanting to work together again. Dean gives him a speech about being stronger apart because everyone uses their love and protectiveness of each other against them. When Dean wakes up, the town he’s in is suddenly run down and abandoned. Oh, and crawling with people infected with the Croatoan virus. He goes to Bobby’s and finds a clue about where Cas might be and heads there. He finds himself, hard and bitter, and a Cas who is human and a stoner. Turns out he’s in the future, a future where he said no to Michael and Sam said yes to Lucifer, and this Croatoan hellscape is the result. Future!Dean has a plan to kill Luci!Sam with the Colt. Our Dean tags along, witnesses himself get killed by Luci!Sam, and has a heartbreaking conversation with him about how this end is inevitable. Dean then gets zapped back to the present by Zach, who arranged this little trip to the future to try to convince Dean to say yes. But Dean is more determined than ever not to, and Cas saves him from an irate Zach just in time. Dean then meets up with Sam and reverses his position about whether they should work together. The fraught brothers ride again, as God intended (heh).

Below is a log of our real-time reactions as we watched. Remember that there may be spoilers for any part of SPN’s 15-season run here. Note also that the nature of our conversation is adult and thus it may contain adult language and themes.

[and we begin:]

Lor:

oooooh this episode

Mace:

i don’t know which one this is yet

Lor:

ooooooo bounces

Mace:

god’s plan for Dean. NICE

Lor:

"too friggin much pal" haaaaaahahahahaha

Mace:

Cas on the cell phone. ADORABLE

Lor:

RIGHT?

and he's getting bitchy, poor baby

Mace:

HE IS

Lor:

"what stuff?"

Lor:

"I'll just wait here then" I CANNOT

Mace:

YAS

such a cutie

Mace:

ooooh Sammy’s fightin’ mad I LOVE IT

Lor:

Dean, you GOOB, you ALSO are trying to hunt down Lucifer and kill him

Lor:

YES

Lor:

nnngggg Dean's ring

Mace:

the way this boy flipflops between FAMILY and GET AWAY FROM ME is a little ridiculous

Mace:

YES

Lor:

right?

Lor:

he needs some intense therapy and a long bout of angel snuggles

Mace:

such an emo drama queen

Lor:

LOL

Mace:

oh wait is this the hippie Cas ep?!?!

Lor:

YEP

Mace:

OMG

Lor:

also Luci!Sam in a white suit episode

Mace:

huh. I have the timeline all messed up in my head, I think. So confused

Mace:

I thought that part was much later

Mace:

Wow. apparently it doesn’t take much to get Dean to punch a child. Interesting.

Lor:

sounds like you need to... rewatch HAAAHAHAHAHA

Mace:

He’s so cute when he runs, though

Mace:

HAHAHAHAHA OH YOU’RE FUNNY, LOR

Lor:

I was just thinking that! at the least he should look more upset about it

Lor:

he is ADORABLE when he runs

Lor:

lolololol the music

Mace:

YES

Lor:

I AM SO FUNNY

Mace:

SO FUNNY

Mace:

FRIGGIN HILARIOUS

Lor:

...alos the Dean likes to wear panties episode. the line that launched a thousand fics

Mace:

snork

Lor:

OMG Dean hitting the steering wheel after Zach pops in

Mace:

no more sports, so it’s not all bad news

Mace:

#silverlinings

Lor:

LOLOLOLOLOLOLOL

Lor:

though we all know now that you don't need people to assemble and watch in person for there to be sports

Mace:

i suppose

Mace:

way to ruin it

Lor:

HA! sorry, friend

Lor:

poor Baby

Mace:

indeed

Mace:

i didn’t remember a double dean action

Lor:

oooh yep

Mace:

NICE

Lor:

god bless Rhonda Hurley

Mace:

HAHAHAHA YAS

Lor:

oooof, Dean

Mace:

yeah. both of them

Lor:

yeah

Lor:

lololol Parent Trap reference

Mace:

Lor:

Haley Mills or whatsherface, Dean?

Mace:

both, although he’ll deny the remake

Lor:

LOLOLOL YES

Lor:

"maybe, uh, share?"

Mace:

HAHAHA

Lor:

omg hiding behind Chuck

Mace:

YES

Lor:

if the CW had any cajones at all, there would have been at least two pretty boys sitting in that circle too

Mace:

RIGHT?!

Lor:

"you are not you, not now!you, anyway"

Mace:

i LOVE that Cas immediately knows

Lor:

YES

Lor:

omg his voice is so less deep

Mace:

IT IS

Lor:

... I wanted bead curtains so bad when I was like 17

Lor:

ooooof, Deans

Mace:

HAHAHA i had them in my dorm room

Lor:

NICE

Lor:

I love that, in addition to other things, we have here a Dean who has to be A Leader, and it doesn't quite... fit

Mace:

and why do you think it doesn’t work? I agree with it, but i think the interesting thing is why

Mace:

because he’s lost Sam?

Lor:

well, I think, this particular example is muddled because there are so many things making him not fit, losing Sam being a big one

Lor:

but I think he CAN lead but it's not where he's most comfortable. and it's not exactly that he wants to follow, but that as soon as he's in charge of more than just a few people, he doesn't want to

Lor:

"oh, so we're torturing again. oh, that's good. classy"

Lor:

"I like past you"

Mace:

agreed

Lor:

"okay, if you don't like reckless, I could use "insouciant" maybe"

Mace:

I… don’t like this Cas

Lor:

no, me either. like, I enjoy it as a performance and a "what-if," but the what-if itself is not one I want to spend any more time with than this one ep

Mace:

exactly

Lor:

"Sam didn't die in Detroit. he said yes"

Lor:

I also don't like this Dean

Lor:

which makes interesting the fact that I like the real Dean, who DOES get more WORN better than young Dean

Lor:

he needs more wear on him, but not THIS wear

Mace:

Hm. I do. I mean, not as much as Real Dean, but you know how I feel about Bad Guys (tm)

Lor:

I do

I trust real Dean implicitly, and this one I don't. I think that's the crux of it for me

Mace:

i get that. I like a little danger, though

Lor:

oooof, Deans

Lor:

the thing is you and Sam BOTH need to say no. like, in this moment, that's the alternative they aren't looking at

Lor:

HORDE TOILET PAPER

Mace:

right?!

Mace:

and YES

Lor:

hoard? I can never remember which is which

Lor:

omg Cas's nod when Dean says "stick out of your ass"

Mace:

HAHAHA

Lor:

it is REALLY interesting to me that this is part of what Zach thinks Dean will take one look at and go "NOPE. better make a different choice." and he's RIGHT

Mace:

hoard, i think. horde is the unruly band of vikings type thing

Mace:

YEP

Lor:

it doesn't have the effect Zach wants, but Dean doesn't want this to happen to Cas any more than he wants to be this Dean or have Sammy say yes to Luci

Lor:

aaah. I thought one was the verb and the other was the noun?

Lor:

BOY Jensen does a good job playing against himself

Mace:

…isn’t that what i said?

Lor:

also the stitching together is really good. are they still using film in this season?

Mace:

“something is broken in you” oh MAN

Lor:

is it? ...I guess it is

Lor:

RIGHT?

Mace:

my god he looks good in that suit

Lor:

RIGHT?

Lor:

"aren't you a surprise?"

Lor:

the thunder in the background is such a nice touch

Lor:

the rolling grumbling kind

Lor:

THE ROSE

Lor:

"the last perfect handiwork of God"

Mace:

YES

Lor:

JARED'S FACE BEFORE "YOU" I CANNOT

Lor:

Dean's teary eyes

Mace:

YES

Lor:

god Jensen's VOICE in this speech

Lor:

GIVE THEM EMMYS. GO BACK IN TIME AND EMMY THEM

Lor:

"whatever you do, you will always end up here"

Mace:

YESYESYES

Lor:

the fact that the tears spill when he suggests it's INEVITABLE

Mace:

YEP

Lor:

"well if it isn't the Ghost of Christmas Screw You" haaaaaaahahahahahahaa

Mace:

HAHAHA

Mace:

oh poor baby, lookit him

Lor:

RIGHT?!

Lor:

"naah" OMG

Mace:

he just wants to mow the lawn

Mace:

YAS

Lor:

RIGHT?

Mace:

CAS

Lor:

OMG THE LOOK ON CAS'S FACE

Mace:

“we had an appointment” I LOVE HIM

Lor:

"we had an appointment"

Lor:

vibrates out of my skin

Mace:

YAS

Lor:

He’s leaning against the car dies

Mace:

YES

Lor:

HUG EACH OTHER, YOU IDJITS

Mace:

RIGHT?!

Mace:

Sammy’s hurt/confused face

Mace:

SIGH

Lor:

the conferring of weapons as a gestures of love flops and rolls in it

Lor:

YES

Mace:

HAHAHA

Lor:

"we keep each other human" GAH

Mace:

right?!

Lor:

"we make our own future"

Mace:

YAS

Lor:

FUCK 327

Mace:

TEAMFREEWILL

Lor:

YAAAAAAS

#watchingspnagain #watchingspnagain 5x4 #spn #supernatural #spn meta #spn spoilers #spn 5x04 #watchingspnagain acting #watchingspnagain fraught

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areseebee · 7 months

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The imitating-the-head-movement thing is soo great, tbh, I wonder if he was directed to or if he did that on his own. There's some really brilliant "little acting" in this show that's just so very good. I rewatched the S2 finale, and that scene with Cathy (not her eyebrows!), when she has that discussion with Ma Mary, he's full on beaming at his mother's pathetic claims about how much she's missed him, face completely dropping at Mary's "well you did dump him here quite a long time ago!", the way he says "Mum's had a lot going on" - that was sooo nailing the abandoned child in denial about their parent's lack of affection, brilliant, but also Mary's reaction!! When her eyes stay on James for a second before going back to Cathy going on about her business, you can literally watch Ma Mary's heart break for him! Considering there's some quite silly slapsticky comedy and over the top physical stuff in there as well, in some moments we really get to see how much *serious* acting talent there's assembled in this cast! ("Serious" acting talend in addition to comic acting talent, which is obvious in practically every scene I mean)

[this ask is referencing my tags on this reblog of a gifset of james in 3x07 as he watches his erin fancam footage]

yes, totally agree! there's some really, really top tier "little acting" from the entire cast (face acting, i think it's called? idk, don't quote me on that, i am not a trained actor).

in the same vein as the "little acting," the background acting in derry girls is just so excellent. i remember an interview with one of the main cast members where they talk about how tiring some of the long filming days would be because, even if they didn't many lines, they are always in the scene, reacting or doing something in the background. orla/louisa harland gets a lot of recognition for their/her background antics, but i think james/dylan llewellyn is really, really excellent with his background acting too. and, imo, it leads to a really rich text to work with as a fic writer and makes the show endlessly layered and rewatchable. i still feel like i pick up on new things when i revisit the show.

mine and @derrygirlstrash's fic, making moves, is grounded in only a look that erin gives james in the dark when the gang is sneaking into the protestant boys' room in 2x01. she's concerned about how she "doesn't have any moves," looks back at james anxiously, he very clearly notices, and then his next line is about how "boys like girls who are confident." like! why was she looking at him? had they talked about this together before? he's so quick to reassure her, to make sure she's not worried. boom - we wrote a fic about it.

or in 3x03, when james is about to sneeze on the train and erin is looking at him encouragingly, hoping she'll get to hear about his "hopes and dreams," and michelle is looking between the two of them like she suspects something, like whatever is about to happen needs to be stopped. did michelle really just happen on them kissing in 3x04 or had she been watching them for a while, seeing this develop right in front of her eyes and try to interrupt it? because i think it's fun, my headcanon is the latter and it's based literally on that one look in 3x03 alone. i'm not gonna write it, but someone give me a "5 times michelle suspected" fic!

there's just so much there if you've got an eye to it, so many spaces for fun ideas. it's the way i like to write and think about fic - to find those spaces in a source material, to find those opportunities within it to really explore what else could be there and to better understand who the characters are to themselves and to each other. imo not all source material has those spaces, but derry girls has it in spades.

#sorry this basically turned into fic thoughts instead of show thoughts lol #but this is one of the main reasons why i love this show so much and why i write fic for it #so thanks for giving me an excuse to talk about it!#derry girls #my fic #ask

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kuwdora · 5 months

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January Posting Meme

January 2 - What was the first vid you made? What drew you to vid it, do you still follow the fandom, etc. -@colls

Happy birthday colls!

Vid nostalgia time, thank you for this prompt.

My very first vid - Ameno - 2007. Stargate Atlantis.

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I made my first vid in 2007 with iMovie. Stargate Atlantis, an ensemble vid about the Ancients. It’s titled “Ameno” by eRa and has chanty vocals that made me think of the Ancients/Lanteans in the Pegasus Galaxy. We were about… what 3 seasons into SGA at that time? Stargate SG-1 was my first internet fandom and SGA fandom in its heyday was certainly an Experience so I was in deep. I voraciously read all the fic back then, participated in the communities, wrote some crossover SGA/SG1 fic here and there. So once I started playing around with iMovie and got an external hard drive it seemed pretty natural for me to try and make a Stargate Atlantis vid.

Several years prior I remember my friend thelinz had sent me a bunch of SG-1 fanvids on CD-ROM that I became obsessed with. I knew I wanted to make Stargate vids. Of course I just had to go and use a song without discernible lyrics and try to tell a story about the Ancients/Lanteans. A people who were almost always featured subtextually and mostly as their tech being a macguffin of sorts for the protagonists to deal with. In my head a Narrative made a lot more sense while I was making it but I was still left rather unsatisfied by the end. But I am very proud of it—especially as a first vid. It’s very interesting to see how my eye for kinetic movement works with the musicality of the song as my first vid. And how I refined that over the years.

As for still following the fandom? It’s in my bones, it’s always there. So many of my fandom friends and I started there. Sometimes I go back and reread old SGA flashfic entries.

I do follow a few Stargate SG-1 and Stargate Atlantis tags on tumblr which has been an interesting time observing that. Mostly on account of folks remarking on Jack and Daniel’s ages (they are too Old). Or how some people have said that Rodney McKay would have Done Numbers on tumblr if the show was airing now and that people should really watch SGA for him. Which just is, you know. Makes me want to pull out that Aslan meme “I was there” old magics etc, since Rodney McKay Was Everywhere, fanon ran with wild abandon and then some while others did slow laps in their own slash and rare-pair niches. But this is part of growing older in fandom, you were there for that history (and all the various wank, which is what it was called and not Discourse).

Anyway. I was never quite satisfied with Ameno. But I went on to make dozen more vids after it with iMovie until I got a Final Cut Edit license. And I came across a song during a summer job and realized the vibe+lyrics…that song was the Ancient Vid I was trying to make the first time around but didn’t manage. And listening to the song I realized I didn’t have the vidding skills yet to pull it together. Very overwhelmed by the idea. I spent 5 years listening and mentally putting it together in my head while casually rewatching here and there. Which is how I managed to make High Voltage - one of the vids I’m most proud of for narrative, structural and thematic reasons.

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High Voltage which someone actually made a Fanlore entry about it!

High Voltage which was selected at Vividcon 2011 for In Depth Vid Review where people spent a good chunk of time discussing it in an in-person group setting. Folks who had never seen Stargate Atlantis or SG-1 or Stargate Universe even said they were very impressed and intrigued with the vid because it looked like nothing they’ve ever seen from Stargate vids before. And those who knew the shows inside and out, who knew the fic, who had meta discussions about it every week, everyone there when another surface-level, shoddily executed storyline rolled out. They saw my vid, too, they saw it and got it. It was really, really incredible experience to get that kind of feedback and realize that so many picked up what I was laying down.

Beatrice Otter wrote a lovely fancake rec for it in 2022 — 11 years after it premiered! A rec I have screencapped and saved in my happy folder to look at when I’m feeling down.

I elaborated a little more about my vidding process and reception of the vid on tumblr

So Ameno is my very first vid that I was VERY proud of but still wanted to go and “do over”/“do again” because it didn’t feel quite right. That foundation and growth lead to High Voltage. :)

I highly recommend anyone who wants to make a fix-it to an old fanwork of theirs to do go ahead and do it and see how it feels. You never know where it might lead.

January Posting Meme - claim a date! Send me any kind of prompt!

#january posting meme #january posting meme 2024 #vidding #fanvids #fan video #my vids #blogdora

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empty-blog-for-lurking · 5 months

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Rewatched the vld pilot i have uhhhh opinions-

First things first, it was good!!! Like both as entertainment and as writing wise it was good!!! It sets up the characters and introduces the plot really well, it was good ok! It was good!!

It also hurt SO MUCH knowing what happens later on like both because so many things in the pilot gets undermined or completely forgotten and because the show really had a lot of potential

Like it sets up so many themes that really didnt go anywhere- Shiro's backstory, whatever shitty energy thing Keith has, Lance's potential arc, Allura's arc, Lion bond, destiny etc etc

It feels so nice to be vindicated about Hunk. Like he is bitchy! He loves to complain! He will go through your personal stuff! I love him, he is kind but absolutely not nice, i love him!

Could have done with less fat jokes though like ugh stop

Also Lance really was great here, like i might be biased but like he was genuinely more complex than people give him credit for. Like he is showboaty, a jerk and a pompous cunt, but he is also great at noticing what people need, making right snap decisions under a lot of pressure, knowing when to jump in but also when to not do that and is genuinely kind and accepting, but also all of this undermined by his fucking personality

Also where are my 1000 and 1 fics of Lance who genuinely thought he saw Hunk die and when the battle is over he is getting a bit protective of Hunk to the point of being overbearing.

And i love how Coran and Lance did not like each other makes whatever is going to happen next all the more compelling

Also why the fuck do people act like Lance bullied poor Keith like the garrison trio are WAY bitchier and meaner towards each other, like Keith is not a victim and he's definately not passive and defenseless about it either he was literally calling Lance a non essential weight

Also speaking of Keith, he was BARELY there, like aside from the story taking its time to go on about how special and amazing Keith is, the bike and the red lion scene he was just barely there. Like the others felt like they were present even when the scene wasnt focusing on them but you can easily forget Keith is supposed to be there

Like seriously even Shiro was more focused with Pidge

Like no wonder they had to screw over and undermine the entire cast and the plot to make Keith the Protagonist™ because otherwise he would not have been this popular

They should have kept this trend honestly

Also god i missed Pidge being actually interesting and likable, like she was flawed and could be mean but also just a girl desperate to find her family, god if only LM didnt decide to make her a flawless self insert

I still think they should have killed her father and/or her brother, like just for the flavour it would have been great

Hell she was trying to save the prisoners who even fucking Shiro was ready to abandon! Granted it was to look for her family but still!!

Also Allura!! My girl Allura!! God she didnt deserve any of this shit!!

Like she tries so hard to be strong and lead and save universe but also god! But also it was just so clear that the loss of Altea was breaking her and she only Just started to process it

"You must sacrifice everything to form voltron" petition to bring back Alfor AI just so i can kick its ass again, cause like SHUT UP!! SHUT THE FUCK UP! NO SHE DOES NOT! SHE ALREADY LOST SO MUCH AND SHE WILL LOSE SO MUCH LIKE HOW DARE YOU! HOW FUCKING DARE YOU!!!

"If i could i would take the burden away from you" THIS SHOULD HAVE BEEN FORESHADOWING! HE SHOULD HAVE CAME BACK TO SAVE ALLURA AND TELL HER THAT SHE MUST LIVE NOW! THAT SHE DIDNT NEED TO SACRIFICE HERSELF! HE SHOULD HAVE TAKEN HER BURDEN! I AM GOING TO FUCKING LOSE IT!! SHUT UP! SHUT UPPP!!!!

Sendak is..... twinkier than i remember

"We must wipe out that filthy race, once and for all!" Zarkon says about the Altean race while his Altean wife whom he claims to love is right there

Anyway yup this was my experience, i loved the pilot

#empty opinions #K3ith stans i kinda need yall to look away ok? Ok

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ofpineapplesanddawns · 8 months

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Vampire!Peter + Martin Whitly, Who Is The Real Monster, discussion prompted by rewatching Frankenstein because I am thinking many frankenstein thoughts always these days?

Absolutely hilarious that you sent me a prompt involving Frankenstein cause I was gonna rewatch a video tonight discussing the novel/Junji Ito manga version of it cause it's October and that means horror classics.

But I'll watch that later, I've got a one-shot to write.

On with the fic!

Peter shifted about on the couch, trying to make himself more comfortable without spilling his drink. Sure, he could put it on the table, but... nah. He just gave up and flopped on Martin's thighs and wiggled a bit.

"Really? All that for you just picking my lap, as usual?" Martin asked, though not sounding all that offended.

"Yep." Peter replied, loudly sipping from the silly straw in his cup. His attention was on the screen, watching as Victor Frankenstein moved about, talking about his creation, which was going to be brought to life shortly. "Hey, Martin, I've got a question."

"I'm sure you do."

"Why do people always call Frankenstein a doctor when the idiot never actually finished school?"

"What do you mean?"

"Like," Peter shifted to make himself more comfortable, "the book has it where he's still in college, basically. And this is a project he's working on in his fuckin' house, that he shares with other people!"

Martin chuckled, carding his fingers through Peter's hair. "Well, many medical professionals have done experiments at home."

"Not recreating a human body!"

"Not that you know of."

Peter turned up at him, giving him a stare. Martin laughed at this. "No, I'm not included. There would have never been a good time to have a reconstructed corpse in my busy home! Jessica would have found out the moment I brought in the first body part!"

"Or Malcolm would have."

This made Martin scoff. "Oh, possibly. I bring one girl home and suddenly I find myself in a cell for twenty years because my son was a little too curious."

Peter rolled his eyes and slurped his bloody mary that contained real blood. "Still though, why do people call him Dr. Frankenstein if he never even earned that title?"

"Well, I assume it's to separate him from Frankenstein the monster."

"I guess, but that's dumb."

"How so?" Martin asked, attention now on Peter rather than the movie where the monster's body is currently being brought to life. Peter had seen this scene enough times to not bother looking at the screen.

"It's... ya know, I mean. The monster is his own person, he's not Frankenstein! He learns to speak and read later in the novel through his communications with a family, before everything goes to shit cause, whoops, he can't have anythin' nice, no thanks to that bitch Victor. He even tells his creator that he is basically his Adam. Probably why people call him that when they talk about these two."

Martin shrugged. "I suppose so, he is a rather smart human-like being, even though the movies tend to not show that."

"Ehhh... I think Van Helsing did? Can't remember, it's been ages since I've sat down and watched that one sober." Peter finished off his drink, setting the cup aside to cross his arms. "But anyway, it's so weird that the movies kinda fuck up his character."

"The monster?"

"Yeah! He's smart, he's caring, but he is also angry, which they get right. I mean, I'd be fuckin' mad at my creator for bringin' me to life and then abandoning me. Oh wait, I have! Fuck my sire! Killed that bitch. Still, like, he's human, in his own right! No need to call him the monster."

"Ah, but does this play into the common question people have about him and his creator? Who is the monster and who is the man?" Martin asked, smiling. "I remember having a discussion about this once with Malcolm, he had been reading the book in school and it had him thinking about me."

Peter raised an eyebrow. "About you?"

"Well, at this point I was in my cell, so he knew that I was the Surgeon. But at the time, Malcolm had explained to me that he saw that how I presented myself to the world and the person hidden from it, the one that was dangerous, were like Frankenstein and the monster."

"Thought you'd be more Jekyll and Hyde."

"I thought so too, but he explained it as... oh..." He tapped his chin. "Ah, yes, he said that I presented myself as this brilliant scientist, who tried to keep up a normal life, and yet I hide from the world a creation made of horrible deeds through the pursuit of knowledge. And, like Victor Frankenstein, to deal with troubling thoughts. This 'creature' I created, the Surgeon, could pretend to be human, but was still a monster, even if he knew the right ways to be human, he just wasn't one due to who he was."

Martin then leaned back, smiling. "I think my boy was overthinking it, believing that I am both the man and the monster, as both of these characters are in their own right. It still sounded Jekyll and Hyde to me, but then again, Malcolm always did find ways to relate me to more conflicting philosophies and thoughts. What a clever boy."

Peter wasn't sure what to say to that, so decided to change the subject. "Did you know only one adaptation of Frankenstein actually brings up that the eight-foot tall man is hung like a fuckin' horse?"

"Only you would go from deep thoughts of humanity to thinking about someone's groin."

"It's Young Frankenstein, in case you're wonderin'." Peter grinned.

Personally, I have no idea who is the monster and who is the man, both are so very, very human and I think that's the point.

*jazz hands*

And yes, Peter is correct about that last fact. Also, apparently, the Universal movie is based on a play adaptation that changed so much of the original plot.

Just some fun facts right there.

#martin whitly x peter vincent #john's drabbles #good omens extended universe

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