#except for the fact that your entire life will be overcome by watching this series 🥹💔

[goldenhypen]

i realized that even tho i’ve come back i’m still barely active dkdjdjdj i have a valid reason for it tho 😌✋🏻 you see,, i got into this rlly good cdrama,, and so now my whole life revolves around watching it and i can’t stop,,, so if i’m not active, it’s not bc smth is wrong,, it’s bc i’m busy watching my cdrama 🥹🫶🏻

[pinkchanelbag]

— sorry it took so long; chapter one.

oikawa tōru x reader

series summary: in which, to oikawa’s surprise, he realizes he’s fallen in love with his best friend’s little sister. so what now?

cw: none! 

wc: 1.4k. 

note: this is a repost off my old account that i wrote manyyy months ago! the series was more or less discontinued lol until my loooveee @elysianslove​ sal showed love for this and inspired me to get back to this series. this is just me reposting onto my new account! enjoy :)

oikawa was always the calculating type. it was a skill he had honed well in volleyball especially, but it extended to all of him. despite his boisterous personality, he was really always thinking, whether or not he put it to use. but every problem had a solution and his mind was a problem-solving machine. he could be childish, he could have outbursts, but never did he panic. why would he? he had all the answers.

looking back, he did suppose that was a naive way to think.

after all, there were things he simply couldn’t predict or overcome. life didn’t go how you wanted it to simply because you saw it a certain way in your mind’s eye. because there are exceptions. because what if you, for instance, get mugged? there is no thought process or planning to stop that. because what if you lose a match in a tournament because you couldn’t move fast enough no matter how well you knew the play? the mind can be as smart as it wants but it is not everything.

because what if you fell in love with your best friend’s little sister?

—

he’d grown up with you. both of you. hajime’s home was oikawa’s second home, as best-friendships usually went, and their families were friendly with each other early on. as a result, oikawa often found himself in the unaffecting but strangely enjoyable presence of a mini-hajime. in fact, in the very early years, the three of you often played together. when he was young, he had liked that you weren’t so much of a girl. that you weren’t annoying. you hadn’t been the type of sister to tug on your brother’s shirt and beg to come along and play, but more the type that oikawa and hajime ran into the family room to find watching tv to ask you to throw up volleyball tosses for them, and you agreed pleasantly. you and hajime were close in a quiet sort of way, but you and oikawa found a bond over teaming up against him. in fact, you were the very first oikawa had deemed “iwa-chan.” it was a fond name his middle school self had given you, and whenever hajime bothered him, he would call him it also, up until a point where it became unironic.

oikawa thought about those times often and missed them always.

the years passed. he and hajime got to high school, and somehow the middle school-high school gap between you and him, despite you being only one year younger, had become too great. he had always taken volleyball seriously, but in high school it was different. he found that he was not often at hajime’s house anymore, but instead they met at school and stayed at the gym practicing late into the night. months went by where he didn’t see you, and in those months you became a girl. he didn’t know how to talk to you (in the moments where he craved talking to you) when he saw you at games or the rare drop-in to hajime’s home. it’s not that you were on bad terms; it’s just that time had turned loud children’s laughs and fond nicknames to quick smiles and casual greetings. in some ways, he believed you were still close…that the years together were largely present in both your heads as you talked briefly about school while hajime ran to get his bag. that both of you at the forefronts of your minds were thinking, “do you remember when we were kids and we would race to see who got to the court the fastest and we threw loose grass in each other’s hair and then apologized and spent hours pulling it out of each other’s heads and the lunches in town after winning a match and sharing our fries and onion rings and when baby takeru was born and we’d play with his fingers and sing him lullabies and falling asleep under a thousand blankets in the den watching movies and we swore we’d have each other’s backs and do you remember when you smiled at me and i couldn’t not smile back even if someone had wired my mouth shut?”

well…he could only hope it was mutual. but again, oikawa was always thinking, not that he put those thoughts to use. he thought about everything all the time, a constant flow in his head like a calm stream of water no matter what he was doing. he thought about volleyball a lot, thought about girls and his schoolwork, thought about hajime, his parents, brother, and takeru, and about you too. when you entered the stream he tried to ignore the childish and excitable fondness in his chest, chalking it up to nostalgia. that had always been his justification for the way you caught his attention; he remembered the good times when he saw you.

so what happens when you get to high school?

at first, not much. oikawa’s second year was a whirlwind. his volleyball career picked up as he stood out for his talents and girls began to flock to him, and he would be lying if he said he didn’t enjoy and entertain it for some time. but with the life experiences he gained, he found that they caused his impression and feelings toward you to morph too. oh, he ignored you for your entire first year, and in truth you ignored him too; there was simply too much going on. but he found that with every girl he finished his endeavours with, he saw you a little differently. the excited fondness he felt at your presence grew to be calmer but greatly more constant than it used to be, like he gravitated towards you subconsciously. and you were growing too. sometimes when he saw you in the hallway you were a woman to him. it was a scary thought because it felt like he didn’t recognize you, but it also pulled at something inside him that he simply could not depend on nostalgia to justify.

his third year of high school came in a blink. things slowed down. he ignored the girls. he focused on volleyball and his loved ones. spent more time with his nephew and hajime. he was growing up, and this time it didn’t feel like he was standing on a conveyer belt that moved through the years at a million miles an hour. this year felt like a year of appraisal, evolution, and finding where he belonged.

if one believed in that sort of thing, the events that led to him finding you could be the responsibility of fate.

haijme and oikawa sat in the den of oikawa’s home on the weekend, giving their phones time to charge before they headed out for a jog. oikawa’s mom sat at the table on the phone with oikawa’s older brother trying to plan takeru’s upcoming sixth birthday. oikawa and hajime made bemused eye contact after frustrated remarks.

“well, if you don’t like him then don’t invite him…………….well, if his kid is takeru’s best friend, you have to invite him! ………… then don’t invite parents! …………….it’s a children’s party, what do you mean you don’t want to have just kids there????”

she groaned and pulled the phone away from her ear, telling her eldest son to stop talking for a moment.

“hajime,” she called kindly. hajime looked up from the tv screen, giving the woman his full attention. “would you and your parents want to come to takeru’s party? i know it might be a bit boring for you, but he really does love you and the whole family will be there.”

hajime smiled and nodded. “i’d love to, i’ll let them know.”

oikawa watched his mom smile in relief, then seem to genuinely lighten up. “oh good, it’s been so long since we’ve all been together. that’ll be great.” she looked back at hajime again. “oh, bring [y/n] if you can. i do miss her, i’d love to see her.”

hajime heeded her request happily before relaxing back on the couch. oikawa quickly reached for his phone to appear occupied so the frozen look on his face didn’t reach hajime. bring [y/n]? he hadn’t seen you for an extended period of time since…he can’t remember. it was always quick moments at hajime’s house, the few times you attended the matches, or split-second eye contact in the hallways. moments not long enough for so much as a proper appraisal of your appearance, almost like you were a ghost fleeting past his vision before he had the mind to double take. a small smile found his lips.

he was going to see you, then.

[heartless-symphony]

Meant to be yours

Summary : You get your dream role and Spencer gets a bit jealous

Pairing : Spencer Reid x fem!reader

Category : fluff

Warnings : some curse words, semi-nudity kinda ??

Word count : 3,329 (even I am surprised)

Proof reader : @alideetoo (thank u !)

A/N : i'm probably gonna make a serie out of this. Reader will get a new role and their love story will advance ar the same time ! Hope you like it !!

MASTERLIST

From the minute you had walked in, Spencer knew something was wrong. Dark bags under your eyes showed you hadn't slept much - maybe even not at all -and the huge cup of coffee in your hands showed how tired you were. You hated coffee. You always laughed at Spencer for his addiction to coffee, but your relationship with hot chocolate wasn't much better. You always had a cup of hot cocoa in hand, but not today. He recognized the cup from the nearest coffee shop, and he knew that their hot cocoa cups were different. What was in your hands was definitely coffee, and that made him frown. You always found coffee too bitter, too strong, no matter what you put in, and only drank some when you had a really rough night - nightmares, a full night of research or something like that. However, nightmares never made you this fidgety, and there had been no rough case - almost no case, even - in the last days. For once, Spencer couldn't figure out what on Earth could have kept you from sleeping all night. He thought about a one-night stand for a minute, then he remembered who he was talking about and put the idea aside. You never did one night stands, and were more of a "not before the fifth date" kind of girl. As far as he knew - and he knew a lot - you hadn't been dating for a while.

Spence always tried to be discreet about his feelings for you, but he worked with profilers after all. Everybody knew that he liked you - except you,apparently. Morgan and JJ liked to keep him updated on your dating life, trying to push him to finally ask you out. After years of working together, years of pining after you, he should have been able to simply talk to you. But he never had the chance, never had the courage. So he watched you from afar, became your friend but, sadly, nothing more. He got to know you well, and that's how he knew something was wrong.

You walked to your desk, the one in front of Spencer’s, glancing at your phone more often than normal. You sat down and let out a yawn, and it looked like you would fall asleep on your desk if it wasn't for the coffee. Your eyes fell on the pile of case files on the side of your desk, and you let out a loud growl before grabbing the one on the top of the pile.

"You okay ?"

You looked up, only to meet Spencer's worried eyes. You nodded slowly, sighing. "Yea, just fine.. I-" A phone rang and you stumbled around, almost turning over your entire desk to find your phone - which wasn't the one ringing. You let out a disappointed sigh and put your phone down, trying to ignore Spencer's big, worried eyes. He had never seen you act like, and he was actually scared. Scared of you, scared for you. You seemed on edge, more than you've ever been, and he had no idea why. He leaned forward, scanning you, trying to profile you. Spencer knew profiling his friend wasn't a good idea, especially when that friend was the girl he liked. But he was so worried for you, so scared that something was wrong and he just wanted to help.

A phone rang again, shaking him out of his thoughts, because it was your ringtone this time, and you shot up to run out of the room, hand fumbling with your phone. He kept his eyes on you, following your every steps. He rose, almost ready to run after you, to make sure you were okay. He stopped dead in his tracks when he realized you didn't seem scared, worried or even sad, but simply excited, happy even. He watched as your mouth fell open and he could almost hear your happy squeal, one he'd heard a few times before. As soon as you hung up, you did this adorable little dance, making his heart melt. You rushed back into the room, happy tears rolling down your cheeks, and threw yourself onto him, hugging him tightly.

"I got Veronica ! I got the role !" Your eyes were so wide, full of happiness, and you were so close, holding him so tight, that Spencer couldn't stop himself from smiling, even though he had no idea what you were talking about. He knew you did musical theater, he knew you had been trying to get a role - and apparently got it-, but he didn't know exactly what or who this Veronica was. When you pulled away to wipe away your tears, he almost -almost!- let out a sigh, already missing your natural warmth. Your eyes met and you let out a little 'sorry', with your adorable, tiny, cute voice, and he smiled even more. He could feel the excitation going through your body, and that was all that mattered to him at this point. You seemed to quickly understand his confusion -you were a profiler, after all- and you blushed, shyly playing with your hair.

"From Heathers ! I got the main role ! I-I just.. I can't believe it, Spence ! I got the role !" He nodded and smiled happily, even though he still had no precise idea of what you were talking about. He had a brief idea, but that was all. He just knew you got the main role because you had just said it, and he couldn't wait to finally see you on stage.

You had been talking about musicals ever since you two had started being friends, you had even made him watch Hamilton - which you almost immediately regretted, because Spender liked to set things right and spent around two hours teaching you what really happened at that time. He loved to hear you talk about music and musicals just as much as you loved his spontaneous facts and hours of teaching you new stuff, and he remembered everything you ever told him. He was just a bit confused by how excited you were, but he didn't mind. The smile on your lips was all that mattered to him.

You smoothed down your high school costume, taking a deep breath, andglanced around from the side of the stage, attempting to scan the crowd. You found your friends seated towards the center, and as soon as you saw Garcia's colorful outfit, a smile grew on your lips. Spencer wasn't far, as close to the middle as possible, where he would have the best view. He was shifting around uncomfortably, obviously overwhelmed by the crowd, but knowing that he was here, overcoming his fear and hatred of crowds, just for you. It made you so proud, so excited. He was here for you. It made you even more worried, but the energy coursing through your veins was just as scary as it was calming.

"You ready?" You turned around to see Jacob, who had been the chosen one to play J.D. The funny thing was that his actual name was Jacob Dullstorm, and you had all decided to simply call him JD. Compared to his role, Jacob was a really nice guy, who you had learned to get along with pretty well. You two immediately liked each other when you met, and it was a very, very good thing, knowing how close your two characters were. You nodded at him, taking a deep breath, holding close against your chest the simple, black diary. You glanced at the crowd again, and J.D. left to get ready. You closed your eyes and stepped on stage, still in the shadow. When the lights turned on, wrapping you in a soft light, you were more than ready. You looked up and smiled. I was your time to shine.

“December 1st, 1981.”

From the second you had started the show, Spencer couldn’t take his eyes off you. He tried to look at the others, he really did. But you just looked so pretty in that outfit, so calm, so at ease. It felt like it was a second nature to you, to be on stage. You owned it. You were Veronica. He loved the show, he really did. However, the second you took your shirt off in the middle of Dead Girl Walking, his cheeks turned red, his eyes widened, but his fists clenched in anger. He had no right to be jealous, you weren’t exactly his, but still. Seeing you half naked for the first time, in the middle of a stage, while you were making out with some other guy, that made him really, really angry. As the show kept going, he couldn’t focus anymore. He had never seen you like that, this confident, this flirty. Each of your movements, of your lines, made his heart grow. You were made for the stage. However, all he could see was the strange relationship Veronica and J.D. had, his jaw clenching everytime they kissed and, when you weren't on stage, when he wasn’t here, his brain immediately reminded him of your shirtless body, of the way the black bra you wore was holding your breasts, and he wished the hands touching you were his.

When the show ended, it took him a second to realize it. He got up and clapped, his eyes focused on you. When the curtain opened again and you all stepped forward, he almost saw red. You and your co star were so close, you were leaning on him like he was some kind of lifeline and it pissed Spencer off so, so badly. He suddenly wished he was this guy, suddenly imagined you leaning against him, taking his hand in yours. It’s not like you had never done it before, holding Spencer’s hand as you walked back from movie night with the team, but seeing you do it with someone else simply made him jealous.

The entire team waited outside for you when the show ended, ready to personally congratulate you or such an awesome performance. Garcia, JJ, Morgan and Emily kept talking about their favorite songs, about your acting, their favorite characters. Rossi and Hotch were simply smiling, sometimes jumping in the conversation to say something. Spencer was silent, playing the show in his head over and over again, your voice replaying in his mind. He looked up as soon as he heard the door open and your oh so beautiful laugh came to his ears. You were back in your everyday clothes, looking as beautiful as ever. Beside you was standing J.D, making Spencer frown. As soon as she saw you, Penelope ran to hug you, letting out happy squeals that sounded a lot like congratulations. You laughed again, glancing at your friends with a huge smile. They all came to congratulate you, Spencer being the last. He sent you a smile and didn’t say much more, but it was all you needed. You soon pulled away from the group, pulling your friend close.

“Everyone meet J, J, meet the team.” Said J smiled, waving around. His composure was very different from his character’s, and he seemed way nicer, but seeing him so close to you still made Spencer’s blood boil il jealousy. He nodded at the guy, before looking away.

Not noticing his shift in attitude, you grinned. “I’m so glad you all came ! What did you think of the show ?”

Penelope was about to go on one of her famous rants, when Rossi stepped in, raising his hand. “Why don’t we talk about it over dinner ? You must be hungry, Y/N. I’m buying” You nodded, smiling thankfully. You were starving.

The group started walking, debating on where to eat, but you stayed behind a little. Rossi looked back, seeing you talking with Jacob, and he smiled. “Do you want to come eat with us, J ? Any friend of my friend is a friend of mine.”

Spencer almost saw red when Jacob nodded and you smiled, taking his hand. Hands in his pockets, the genius clenched his fists. Here he was thinking he would be able to spend some time with you and the team, like you usually would, but he was wrong and that made him angry. He just wanted to spend time with you, forget those memories of you in someone else’s arms. But apparently, it wasn’t the moment.

During dinner, you felt something was wrong. Spencer almost didn’t say anything, acting really cold and almost pushing you away. It hurt a bit, you had hoped for a bit more, coming from him. You thought he would seem happier for you, but he was cold, almost mean. You guessed it probably wasn’t against you, it might be something personal and he didn’t want to ruin your evening with bad news. Still, you felt a bit sad that he didn’t talk to you, almost avoiding your eyes all along. Once you had all finished eating and started walking away, you waited. Usually, Spencer walked you home, since he didn’t live far and didn’t like to let you walk alone in the dark, but with how he was acting, you weren’t sure he wanted to. You said goodbye to your friends, waved happily as Jacob got in a cab, and turned around, almost scared to see that Spencer had left without you. But he was still here, hands in his pockets, waiting for you, looking down. You smiled softly, happy that he wasn’t too angry at you to leave you like that. You hoped he wanted to talk.

You walked in silence for almost half of the way, you wanted him to start the conversation. You didn’t want to force him to talk to you, it wasn’t fair of you to do so, but you also really wanted to know what was wrong. You were next to each other, both of you looking down, and you almost didn’t hear him when he spoke. “I didn’t know you had a boyfriend.” You froze and stumbled on your feet. You were definitely not ready for that. You had no idea what he was talking about. You were as single as could be - you could never like anyone the way you liked Spencer. You didn’t even want a boyfriend, unless it was Spencer. You didn’t understand.

“What are you talking about ?”

He looked up to you and your eyes met, and you both saw the pain in each other’s eyes. He sighed and looked away again, running a hand through his hair. “You and Jacob. You two seem really close.” You frowned even more. Of course, you were close. He was your co star, your friend too. But then, it hit you. He wasn’t talking about friend kind of close, but more. You let out a little laugh.

“Jacob ? Spencer, he’s gay ! His boyfriend is away on business, that’s why he couldn’t be here tonight but- Wait. Is this what it’s about ?” he looked away again, and you gently took his arm, turning him around so he would face you. “Are you.. Jealous, Spencer ?”

You watched as his cheeks went red and you almost jumped in joy. You shouldn’t be happy about the pain he felt, but he was jealous. Of someone he didn’t even know, because he thought you were dating. Maybe, just maybe, he felt for you the same way you felt for him. The idea alone made you want to hop around in joy, but you stopped yourself and looked at him. He sighed, fumbling with his hands, and you gave him time to gather his thoughts, to know what to say.

“I-I might be. I like you. I think i do, at least. I know love, or whatever it is, is a simple hormone thing, the release of what we call the happy hormones, but i-i actually feel it, Y/N, and i haven’t felt this way since Maeve and i just- i don’t really get it. But when i saw you with him.. I just, i wanted to take his place, you know ? i wanted to be as close to you as he was, and i just.. Yea, i’m jealous. I’m sorry, i didn’t mean to ruin our friendship like that but i hoped you wouldn’t realize..”

You bit your lip, trying to contain your joy, and gently called his name. He looked up at you and your eyes met, and it took a second for him to realise that you weren’t mocking him, or hated him, or whatever other horrible things he thought would happen. You took a second to take your hand gel out of your pocket, quickly washing your hands, before gently taking his hand in yours. “I like you too, Spence. I really do.”

His confused frown made you laugh softly, squeezing his hand. He didn't pull away, and it made your heart flutter. You were used to holding hands- you always hand gel with you, just in case one of you needed to feel the other close. Still, this felt different. The secret feelings you had been hiding for years were finally out there, and the air felt lighter, easier to breathe. It made both of you smile, before breaking into soft laughs. You tugged on his hand.

"Will you please walk me home ? Like you usually would ?"

He smiled softly and nodded. He could definitely do that. When he admitted his feelings, he had worried about two things: the first one was, obviously, ruining your friendship, which was so important to him, scaring you away. He didn't want to lose it all just because of some dumb brain chemistry. The second thing that scared him was how fast you wanted to go. He knew you would never force him to do anything, but he also knew you might want to kiss him, which he wasn't sure to be ready for. He liked you, but kissing was so.. Unsafe. He knew his germophobia was considered insane by most people, and he knew you weren't one of those judgmental people, but still.

But you hadn't asked him to kiss you. It's like you were waiting for him to be ready, and it made his heart glow. You both started walking again, holding hands. A comfortable conversation started, and he started asking you more questions about the show, paying you more attention, burying you in compliments, in adoration.

When you arrived at your apartment, you felt a familiar tug at your heart. You hated it when you had to go your own way, and he felt the same. None of you knew what to do or say, you weren't sure if he was ready to kiss you yet, and you weren't sure you were ready either. Your friendship was way too important for the both of you, so you waved goodbye awkwardly and started to walk up the stairs to the door of your apartment.

You felt his hand wrap around yours, gently tugging you back toward him, and turned around to face him, blushing shyly. He gave you a worried smile, taking a step forward. You almost pulled away as you felt his breath against your skin, worried of what could happen. But his lips never touched you. You opened your eyes, that you had closed without even knowing, and a soft smile grew on your lips. His forehead was resting against yours and his eyes were closed. It was the closest you two had ever been, and it felt like a huge step for the both of you. Slowly, his eyes fluttered open, and they met yours. He blushed softly and was about to pull away, but you moved just enough to gently kiss his cheek. You took a step back, trying to fight the red growing on your cheeks.

No words were needed as you waved to him, walking into your building, knowing he was watching you go. Your heart was glowing happily. He liked you. It's all that mattered.

[darling-i-read-it]

Mukozuke

2x05

Hannibal Lecter x reader x Will Graham 

Hannibal Re-Write Series Masterlist

Word Count: 2k

Warnings: spoilers for hannibal, murder, mental health problems, jail, dead bodies, cancer, talks of suicide

Author’s Note: I really went ham with hannibal this episode despite thinking that I would do the exact opposite so the dynamics are getting really fun I’m not gonna lie to y’all. The next two episodes I’ve written are lit though so be ready for that!

I used some direct quotes from the script so some things may seem familiar 

Official Episode Summary : When Will assists with a profile he reveals the Chesapeake Ripper and the Copycat Killer are the same person. Will asks Freddie Lounds to help him contact his admirer, and Alana becomes suspicious of Will.

I don’t own these characters. They belong to author/director 

Tag List: @llperfectsymmetryll​  @ericacactus​ @vlightning95​

(not my gif) 

“You have to eat something, Jack. You’ve been up all night. Feed the body, feed the mind.” Hannibal walked into the dining room with a plate of clams that he had made for Jack. It had been a long night and he couldn’t help but notice that you hadn’t stopped by. However that was better for the events that he was doing last night, along with helping Jack through this trying time in his life.

Jack looked down at the food and thought about what to do with it. He didn’t start to eat it, instead he looked up at Hannibal.

“She knew she couldn’t beat the cancer, so she was going to beat it to the finish line. One way or another, she was going to win,” Jack murmured. He walked alongside the table.

“One way or another, she will. All you can do is hope she finds more reasons to live than not to,” Hannibal said quietly in a strange mix of pride and despair for the situation. 

“I can’t blame her for wanting to control how she dies,” Jack said quietly.

“I believe those who can no longer function at an acceptable level have the right to die,” Hannibal said solemnly.

“She cast you in the role of executioner. She wanted you to let her die. I’m grateful you didn’t,” Jack admitted. He struggled with these emotions as he tried to keep them at bay before Hannibal.

“As a doctor, I had no choice. As a philosopher, I had too many. It wasn’t what I could do for Bella, it was what I couldn’t do to you. I’m a better friend than therapist,” Hannibal said between bites of breakfast. 

“You’re a great friend,” Jack said quietly. Jack walked to the edge of the table and saw a robe there that wasn’t Hannibals. Eager to change the subject from something so dim, despite the fact it plagued his every thought, he brought it up. “Who’s is this?” Jack picked it up and then put it back down, walking back to the head of the table where Hannibal sat.

“Y/N’s.”

“Y/N Graham?” Hannibal chewed bitterly on his bite.

“They’re not married. And I don’t assume she would take his last name either,” Hannibal explained.

“What was she doing here?” 

“Resting. The house brings back memories she would care to forget for the moment.” Jack nodded stiffly but it was clear his mind was wandering. Hannibal didn’t exactly stop his thoughts.

Jack sat down to eat breakfast.

-

You looked in the mirror. You were trying to figure out if you should go see Hannibal. If you should confront him about the whole cannibalism thing that Will was going on about that you were pretty sure he was right about. You could stay home, contemplate the fact that you had likely eaten a person. Or maybe just think of the fact you had killed a person for sure.

The phone rang. You picked it up on the first ring out of habit as you put down your hair brush. 

“Hello?”

There was a long pause and you weren’t sure what to think of it. Your mind had finally caught up with your hands which had picked up the call thinking nothing of it. 

“I have trouble telling you this over the phone or talking to you one on one period,” Jack Crawford started. You raised an eyebrow at yourself in the mirror and leaned against the bathroom counter. Your mind jumped to the worse.

“Is Will okay?” you asked, voice weak. 

“He’s fine.” You let out a breath of relief.

“Good that’s good. What is it then?” There was another pause. 

“I know Beverly and you were friends. She was just found dead this morning by Freddie Lounds.” Your breath caught in your throat. You and Bev didn’t know each other that well but you had always been friendly. In fact, she was usually on your side about Will. You couldn’t help but wonder if Hannibal had something to do with this. “That’s not all.” 

“Oh?”

“Will wants to see her body in person. He’s coming to the observatory now.” You tapped your toe on the bathroom floor.

“And?”

“If you were to show up I wouldn’t exactly kick you out.” You nodded.

“You know what Jack, maybe you aren’t as bad as I thought.”

“Don’t hold your breath.”

-

When you pulled up to the observatory mostly everyone was already there. You got out of the car and approached the crime scene tape. Someone started to stop you and then when they noticed who you were stepped aside eagerly. You supposed that having the reputation as the girlfriend of the Cheaspeake Ripper was getting around. 

You saw Will be wheeled into the observatory and you caught Jack’s eye. He nodded at you and you nodded back. You saw Freddie Lounds standing outside, taking pictures of Will but you didn’t have the energy to fight her. It was going to get out either way. 

You walked into the observatory and Beverly was there, sliced into different pieces. The room was empty except her, Jack, you and Will. You walked up and stood beside Jack as he started to take the restraints off of Will.

Will turned to you.

“What are you doing here?” he asked, voice raspy.

“Jack asked me to come. In so many words,” you said with a small smile. Jack stood between you and Will but Will was glad you were there. He wasn’t sure if he could do this one. If it was who he thought it was that killed Beverly this was going to be very close to home. 

Will pushed past Jack and hugged you. 

He hadn’t hugged you in so long. It felt like a breath of fresh air to both of you. His curls felt better against your face than anything you had ever felt. You let him go after a moment and gave him a nod of encouragement.

Jack watched the two of you and he saw the numbness leave Will’s eyes for a moment. Just the two of you and Jack knew that you truly believed Will hadn’t done anything bad in his life. 

Will stepped forward and started to do his thing while you and Jack stood in silence. 

-

You sat across the table from Will.

“This is the privacy room,” Will said simply.

“What’s that supposed to mean?” 

“I mean Chilton can’t hear us.” You gave him a look.

“Will you’re in cuffs. Although I can’t say I’ve never though-” “Not like that,” he said with a small smile on his face. “I mean I can really talk to you and you can tell me exactly what happened in that judges room,” Will said. You were surprised to hear that. You didn’t want to talk about it. In fact you wanted to forget about it entirely. 

“You first,” you muttered.

“I talked to Gideon.” 

“You what?” 

“And I’m giving Freddie rights to my story so that she can send the person who killed the bailiff a message.” 

“Will Graham!” You shook your head. “What the hell do you think you’re doing?”

“It’s all going to make sense. I think,” Will explained. You stared at him, hard. “Are you going to talk to Hannibal?” he questioned.

“You’re asking a lot of me right now,” you said through a small laugh. “I don’t know.” Will tried to reach your hand but the cuffs stopped him. You met him halfway.

“You know he killed Beverly,” he said quietly so the guards wouldn’t hear. “I can’t...let that happen to you.” You nodded.

“It won’t.”

You weren’t sure how you knew that. But you weren’t going to let it happen.

-

You stepped into Hannibal’s office. He was sitting at his desk, reading on his tablet. He looked up, surprised to see you.

“How have you been?” he asked as you walked inside. You stared at Hannibal and wondered if you should confront him. Perhaps it would be better to pretend you didn’t know. But you did know. And that was a problem your mind couldn’t overcome.

“As well as can be expected,” you said honestly.

“Did you sleep well?” You swallowed hard and shrugged. Hannibal noticed the way you were acting immediately. He may not know you as well as Will but he knew body language better than both of you. “Are you alright?” 

You nodded and walked over to the table. You sat on top of it and had a sudden sense of dejavu of having sat there during Will’s sessions. That felt like a lifetime ago.

“I’m fine,” you promised. “I was wondering if I could come back to work.” He let out a surprised sigh. 

“Do you think that’s the best idea?” 

“I want to. I need something to do.” He nodded simply.

“I suppose. If you want to.” 

“I want to,” you said quietly. 

Hannibal gave you a look and you gave him one back. It wasn’t that hard to forget that he was a supposed cannibal murderer.

-

You were sitting in Hannibal’s office alone when Alana and Jack burst in. You raised an eyebrow, surprised. First day back and Jack Crawford was already coming to bother you.

“Is Hannibal here?” Alana asked.

“No he’s swimming. Why?” They shared a look and you stood up from where you were sitting, trying to focus on work. 

“Do you know where?”

“Yes.” 

“Take us. Now.”

-

You ran into the pool where Hannibal worked out. You were worried out of your mind. Alana explained to you in the car that Will had sent the killer of the bailiff to kill Hannibal and it was too much to unpack in the moment of worry that you were going through. 

You couldn’t believe Will would do that but if he was angry enough he must have. You should have seen it when you went to see him. You should have seen it and done something about it. 

You ran to the back door and Jack swung it open but you were in front of him. You didn’t have any weapons or anything, all you had was your foolproof worry. 

Your eyes landed on Hannibal who was teetering back and forth on a bucket. You gasped and Jack ran in front of you.

“He’s got a gun!” Hannibal yelled, choking on the noose his neck was tied around. Before you knew it Jack had shot the guard but the guard kicked the bucket Hannibal was standing on. You screamed and ran over, quickly trying to take Hannibal’s weight so that he could breath. 

“Call the cops!” Jack yelled at Alana as he walked over. Jack reached up and took the noose off of Hannibal so he fell on top of you. You sat up and looked him over quickly for any immediate injuries. 

Hannibal looked in your eyes and knew that you had been worried beyond belief and despite the fact Will had sent someone to kill him you were worried about Hannibal. You put your hand on his cheek, worriedly looking him up and down and Hannibal couldn’t help but smile weakly.

2x06

[lara635kookie]

Ranking the best The 39 Clues books(First season because the other ones just aren't canon in my mind).

SPOILER ALERT!

If you're a Clue Hunter and is reading this post, when you finish it reblog it and do your ranking of The First Season books(please I need to know I'm not alone on this fandom)(Please someone tell me I didn't get to this fandom too late). Also this is only my opinion. If you think different feel free to share your thoughts(respectly). So let's go:

My Personal Favorites:

10-Beyond The Grave(Book Four written by Jude Watson):

Honestly this book is overall good and I really wanted to go Egypt but that's only in this place because Ian and Natalie don't show up in person, they're only mentioned by Amy and Dan sometimes. It may seem like a stupid reason but Ian and Natalie were the biggest enemies of Amy and Dan, arch-enemies since the two understand themselves by person and their appearances have always been so iconic, the chases, the talks, the fights, the teasing so the fact they weren't in this book just didn't feel right. The Cahills and the Kabras have a lot of chemistry, both as enemies and as much something more(if you get me, lovers cough cough), and the Kabras have been sorely missed in this book(at least by me).

9-The Emperor's Code(Book Eight written by Gordon Korman):

I don't know compared to the other ones, this one just look kinda forgettable. Maybe because Amy and Dan spend a good part of this book apart. But of course the story has its good moments which are when Dan gives an autograph for a girl (D. Cahill is priceless), when Dan tells the Wizards that he is a Madrigal (as we say in Brazil: Iconic, Memorable and Timeless) (Dan was very amazing in this book, if you disagree, disagree in silence) and when Amy saves Ian(aka Love of her life) from falling off Mount Everest.

8-The Viper's Nest(Book Seven written by Peter Lerangis):

I love that one but the other ones are just better. I like the ending with Isabel(and everyone) thinking that the Clue was Diamond and It wasn't. I also like the scenes with Kurt because I wanted Ian to meet him and Kurt make Ian jealous of Amy(don't judge my dreams). Another thing that I really like is the history. I really like studying history and I learnt so much about Shaka Zulu. And was also with that book that I realized that Isabel had arrived to stay and that she would be the Main Villain in the end somehow. Maybe That's another reason why I don't like much The Emperor's Code:Isabel didn't show up and I thought she would appear in all the other books after In Too Deep. Natalie on Storm Warning said that Isabel didn't trust Ian and her to handle the Hunt without Isabel anymore since Russia so that just doesn't make sense. Maybe she didn't appearead to give Cora Wizard the spotlight but anyway let's continue.

7-The Black Circle(Book Five written by Patrick Carman):

I love this one so much. Probably because in this book we see that Ian is also in love with Amy. On Book three he seemed to like her but then he and Natalie let Amy, Dan and Alistair locked on the cave and we only see Amy Side of this story. Her sadness. But we didn't know if Ian was sorry, if he regreted his actions. And when they come back on this book we see Ian still likes Amy and the fandom goes crazy. I mean even if you are a Jamy/Carian shipper or shipps another shipp you probably shipped Amyan before because they were the only promising couple on the series(at least on series one). Back to the book I Love The Holts defeating the Kabras and Amy and Dan doing an Alliance with Hamilton(Dan envying Hamilton for driving a Kamaz will be Forever iconic). Also this book was when I realized Irina wasn't bad. I didn't like her in the other books and I didn't notice much of her but everything changed on this book and I started to love her. * sad sigh * Moving on!

6-The Maze of Bones(Book One written by Rick Riordan):

Uncle Rick(we call him like that on Brazil, in portuguese is Tio Rick) did a really great job on this one. For a series that has several authors writing, the beginning is very important and it is a great responsibility for the first author because those who will write later have to understand what you wanted to convey in the beginning to make a coherent continuation. Rick Riordan did it flawlessly. We can identify ourselves in the characters and we get really connected to the plot, the history, the riddles about Benjamin Franklin and after finishing the book we wanna know more about what happens next. So Rick Riordan absolutely slayed this introduction and no one can tell me otherwise.

5-One False Note(Book Two written by Gordon Korman):

This book is just unforgivable. I love this with all my soul. Probably because It talks about Mozart and his history and I really love arts. Also because the writing of this book is so satisfactory and so well done. I mean I really thought Fidelio Racco was a real person. What I also love about that book is the fact that every character get to shine. Amy and Dan are the Main characters but the appearences of all the other characters are really remarkable so yeah That's it. Deserves this spot on the Top 5 for sure.

4-In Too Deep(Book Six written by Jude Watson):

Going now to the four horsemen of the apocalypse from the best books of The 39 Clues. In Too Deep It's just something so perfect It's inexplicable. Something I don't like much about In Too Deep is that when Isabel was fighting to Irina and Ian and Natalie were watching Natalie was like:Irina is going to get Shoot on the head, That's gonna be so good. Like she wanted Isabel to do this, like she would be disappointed if she didn't, like she was used to seeing this type of thing. Then, In Storm Warning she was soft like:Not blood. It's so repulsive(several authors series problem but the series is good anyway). About that book I love the start, I love the middle, I love the apex and If It wasn't for Irina's death in the end this would probably be even higher than already is. Why Irina, Jude? Also:Why Pony? Why Erasmus? Why McIntyre? Why Alistair? Why Lester? Why Natalie? Why Evan? Why everyone? Why not Jake or Cara? Back to the story Jude Watson is Just a genius for transforming a dream(or a nightmare) in Isabel Kabra and adding her to the book. I don't wanna cry today so I'm just going for the next one.

3-The Sword Thief(Book Three written by Peter Lerangis):

If this book was a part The Plastics of Mean Girls, The Sword Thief would be Karen Smith of The 39 Clues, because let's face it:Amy and Dan were really dumb of accepting an alliance with Alistair and the Kabras. Principally with the Kabras. I mean they already were kinda used to temporary alliances with Alistair but not Ian and Natalie but they should have expected that It would have been bad on the end. I mean yes they needed Ian's coin to open the cave to find the clue but they look so surprised when Ian and Natalie leaves them on the cave and they shouldn't because that was obvious that they were going to betray them in the final. So they should have accepted the alliance but being more distant to the Kabras and preparing themselves in case they try something(which was obvious they would). But at the same time, I'm glad they didn't because AMYAN IS JUST MY ENTIRE LIFE(And even a little bit of Danatalie this book is Just a masterpiece). Just like In Too Deep, I love everything about that book, except the end. And I am a Kpop fan(not the cringe obssessed type) and I really like to study about North and South Korea and their history but South Korea's caves just left me depressed. I'm gonna cry so let's change the subject.

2-Storm Warning(Book Nine written by Linda Sue Park):

I love everything about this book. Literally everything. The start, the middle, the apex and the end. I love this book mainly because Natalie got the spotlight that she deserved. I don't know why I like Natalie so much since the start. Maybe because when I started Reading the books I was eleven, just like her. And Maybe because she was pretty, rich, savage and sassy wich I always wanted to be. But there is something more that I don't know how to explain that is really relatable about Natalie even with my reality being too different from hers and this book was the confirmation I needed that Natalie would be my favorite character Forever. I Also like it because it happened on Bahamas and Jamaica(two places I really want to go in the future) and It got a lot of revelations and twists in the end(wich I love more than everything on a book). If Storm Warning was a person and slapped my face I would probably say:Thanks, Could you do that again?

1-Into The Gauntlet(Book Ten written by Margaret Peterson Haddix):

I usually don't like the endings of books because I'm sad that it's over and as all the other books were good I usually demand a lot from the endings, even more than the beginnings (for me the final impression is the one that stays, not the first). I generally like the endings but I've never looked at a ending book and said: This one overcomes all the other books. I normally like more the start or the middle books. But man Into The Gauntlet caught me off guard. DoD is already a trash ending, comparing to Into The Gauntlet, DoD(fanfiction-forced-canon) seems even worse(if That's even possible). Everything about that book It's just top-notch, high quality, god tier, flawlessly perfect. Stan Haddix. We believe in Into The Gauntlet Supremacy.

It's going to have a part 2. Bye.

[sometipsygnostalgic]

Steven Universe - How the show fails to handle emotion, irrationality, and trauma

I have a better understanding of why SU is the way it is now. Why it is very dramatic, and why the characters often act in ways that are entirely out of proportion

When making a critical post about the handling of Flame Princess in Adventure Time, /u/samhadj01 attributed part of the problem to be that Rebecca Sugar was responsible for Flame Princess’s conceptualizing, and wrote her and Finn the same way that she writes SU characters - in a heightened emotional state, where they are feeling the EXTREMES of their emotions at all times, yelling at the top of their voice when angry, crying their eyes out when sad, and hurting each other. The reddit user said this made it difficult for the writers to figure out where to take Flame Princess next.

I challenged this reddit post’s claim that Rebecca writing FP’s first episodes meant that the crew didn’t know what to do with her. There is a lot of oversight in the AT crew, and Rebecca was just one cog in the wheel, even if she was full of ideas that ended up getting used. If she came up with a bad idea it would be the responsibility of her colleagues to put it back on track, and I don’t even think FP’s initial portrayal is the problem - the issue is she was completely marginalized after the fact, and bizarrely rewritten to lose her early immaturity without there being enough progression into that new stage. Following this she was basically written out of the show, with the exception of when she’d be useful to show off another character’s development (Finn, PB, even Cinnamon Bun).  

WITH THAT BEING SAID, I thought Samhadj made a good point about SU.  

Rebecca Sugar always loved writing music into her stories because it was the purest form of expression. You can hear how much love she puts into her music. She wanted to create a show where she could really sell emotions, where she could fill it up with songs that the characters would sing to express themselves and their troubled feelings. She wanted all the characters to be expressive, emotional, angry. She wanted Steven to be a character that helps everyone else learn to deal with their emotions, much like how her brother Steven helped her, as she’s said before. 

The issue is that, in order to facilitate this, she would need to write characters who would BE in these conflicts, feel heightened emotions at all times. 

So Rebecca conceptualized the gem species. 

Even though they take the form of adults, the gems are incredibly stunted. They remain the same for thousands of years. They are not equipped to process emotional trauma, having lived in a society where you have to cover up all your flaws and feelings at the risk of being shattered.  The show follows several Crystal Gems who rebelled against this system, but still haven’t figured out what it means to be free from this systematic oppression. They’re trying to live peacefully, but they’re prisoners still, in their hearts. 

Steven is the catalyst for change that points out the things that upset them, and forces them to deal with their emotions. He acts as emotional support and encourages the crystal gems to grow.  Steven also has much growing up to do himself. He has to confront the truth about what it means to BE a crystal gem, to have inherited the gem of the person who started the revolution, and Steven over time learns how messed up everything is. He is overcome with the desire to fix it, while still learning about himself.  

Why is this sort of storytelling a problem?

For the characters to have heightened emotions all the time, it means they have to keep getting in conflicts that reveal these emotions. It is these conflicts that make the show feel overdramatic and edgy - how characters will lash out and hurt each other, all the time, because they had a bad day, or something reminded them of something that hurt them. 

More urgently, who they are lashing out against. While the Crystal Gems hurting each other in season 1 makes sense, it is when they start taking things out on Steven himself that things become straight up toxic. 

Steven has to bear the brunt of EVERYONE’s problems, AND his own. He chases after Pearl in “Rose’s Scabbard” and nearly falls to his death while she ignores him, he fights with Amethyst when she is insecure about Jasper, he has to deal with Ruby and Sapphire’s fighting. He has to deal with all the townies and their stupid conflicts as well, Lars and Sadie’s fighting, so on. And ON TOP OF ALL THIS, people are trying to kill him all the time!!!!! But he is getting absolutely no meaningful support, and this is obvious, because the show itself acknowledges this later on. 

You start to ask the question, is this even worth doing? The characters around Steven display incredible immaturity, and after a certain point, they stop feeling like heroes.  They feel like leeches who are taking advantage of a young boy. 

Things get RIDICULOUS in the final season. Even after the episodes where Amethyst acknowledged the shitty status quo of everyone leaning on him, Steven then has to deal with the emotional problems of the Diamonds themselves, who it turns out lashed out the entire GALAXY because they didn’t know how to talk about their feelings?! For millions of years?!?! To be turned around by one teenage boy, even after a revolution where many of their gems expressed why they were wrong???!!!  

I think it was these final episodes of Steven Universe that completely shattered any remaining suspension of disbelief about the diamonds.

I’m no alien to ancient, immortal characters in charge of millions demonstrating incredible immaturity. Look at Princess Bubblegum and Marceline. Marceline would lean closer to the Amethyst side of the spectrum where she lashes out against everyone, while PB would be on the Pearl or Diamonds side where she’d pretend to act all rational and coolheaded and then do something insanely bad like crash a wedding or manipulate children. Pretty yikes, even up to the finale.  However, the difference is that AT is a more lighthearted wacky show where immaturity can slide for jokes, and most of the issues these characters have are inward facing. They identify and work on their problems themselves, with some support but not much interference from outside. They also do NOT act crazy all the damn time, and have plenty of moments before, during, and after their development where they are fully supportive friends. I enjoyed learning more about these characters and their pasts, because the immaturity never broke my suspension of disbelief.

The DIAMONDS, on the other hand, never get any sort of character development. I was excited to learn more about their creation, and how they came to be these insanely powerful beings that controlled a fascist society where emotion is not allowed. Why is it this way? Why do they want to keep it like this?

We never find out. We just see Steven embarrassing White Diamond after she attempts to murder him, and then she immediately goes full 180 redemption. It makes no damn sense! 

Steven Universe Future attempts to address the issues with everyone Steven knows being emotionally dependent on him, but Future forgoes genuine themes about healing in favour of its edgy focus on how Steven has become “damaged”. 

I was shocked watching SU Future’s first few episodes. I was astounded that the show would deconstruct itself so thoroughly, and have Steven address the exact things that were on MY mind. He realised that he’d been used.

How ballsy is that for the show to have the protagonist literally tear it to pieces in the final few episodes? 

However, any hopes for Steven directly addressing these issues, communicating with his friends and HEALING were dashed about half way through, when he only kept escalating.  Steven got so outraged that he shattered Jasper, and attempted to kill White Diamond while also injuring himself. He started to see himself as a monster. He becomes a murderer. He turns into a kaiju at the end since that’s how his perception of himself is different.

I was really disappointed that the show had wasted its entire runtime to build this up. 

The emotion that Rebecca Sugar was trying to capture was Steven’s pain, anger, the disconnect he had with his friends.

Future did not spend ANY time in demonstrating that Steven’s friends were acknowledging his pain. In fact, quite the opposite - they kept dismissing all of his feelings about Ruby and Aquamarine, and Greg was revealed as The Literal Worst when he thought his perfectly normal conservative upbringing was way worse than Steven literally getting tortured by aliens every other day and having no friends or education.  When Steven has his breakdown, they all cROWD him and start yelling at him. They have absolutely no regard for Steven’s boundaries at all. It’s almost like Steven’s friends are P-zombies at this stage. 

I did not like how Steven was portrayed as a dangerous, out-of-control killer. It’s not just that he SAW himself as this - it’s literally what he was.  You can do bad things because of your trauma, but it won’t turn you into a monster. If you act like a monster, that is your responsibility. 

And then the series ends with the hug, but we do not see Steven’s actual healing process or reconnecting with his friends. We only get a brief goodbye episode. 

After watching Obsidian, I cannot help but compare these scenarios. Obsidian was about Marceline healing from her emotional trauma. It was still very much a part of her, but she was learning to recognise when it was damaging her life, and communicate with others about it. It’s about learning to accept your cracks.

If SU Future had been about dealing with trauma properly and healing, it could have been the best series on Cartoon Network, and fully redeemed the weaknesses of the original show. 

However, Rebecca and the SU crew decided to focus too much on Steven’s pain, and Future ended up exacerbating the issues of the show. 

[el-oh-her]

Barbie Movies That Are More Relevant Than You Think

1. Barbie’s Princess and the Pauper 

> The Big Thing: Shows a realistic representation of 1st world problems and 3rd world Problems coexisting. Annalise is a princess in an arranged marraige and Erika is an indentured servent, both looking to esacpe, but are determined to overcome these issues. They acknowledge that they have differerent problems but are both struggling in their own right. It’s important to know that they don’t wish they were someone else, they just wish they could escape their personal struggles. 

> Women supporting women! 

> Female Leads that are friends and aren’t catty towards each other 

> Annalise and Erika talk about things other than boys, althrough an arranged marraige is a plot point and all boy talk is really about that particular plot point. 

> “Duty is doing the things your heart may well regret” is the most badass line in exsitance, okay? 

> The Princess loved science. 

2. Barbie and the 12 Dancing Princessess 

> The Big Thing: This story is about extremism and the dangers of a binary system. In this case, it’s Law vs Chaos, and unregulated freedom of expression vs overregulated conformity. The 12 are unruly and chaotic and uncaring about their royal status which causes strain on the kingdom and they are super unprepared for royal life. The antagonist comes in, strips the color and the fun and is all rules and control and is trying to teach them how to be “proper ladies” which is also done in an extreme. Neither of these are right, and in the end the girls use their unique interests to save their father, and they acknowledge they should behave better and be prepared for royal life. They essentially find their middle way. 

> Realistic siblings. No one calls the other “sister” 

> Lacy, the frail sister, is never treated poorly by her sisters despite the fact she causes a few issues in the plot. Super supportive sisters. 

> LI isn’t a prince. He’s a shoemaker. 

> There’s an assassination attempt in this one! It technically succeeds. Really good show on adult topics in a children’s movie. 

> Power and Corruption are thematic here with the villain. 

3. Barbie’s Mariposa

> The Big Thing: This one is about destorying an entire society for personal gain and power. If you’re American, you’d understand why THIS is super relevant. The queen is bring poisoned and is the life source for all the lights, and those lights are what protect faeries from the monsters in the dark. The Big Bad Guy plans to take the throne with these monsters as her minions, promising them they can eat faeries. She will destory this land to gain the throne, and she doesn’t care who dies along the way. 

> Has a Cinderella vibe to it. Good rendition 

> Two First World Entittled rich faries are humbled through the journey, and learn to be king and selfless despite starting with selfish intentions. GROWTH. 

> Skeezite is a funny word. 

> ACCENTS. I think they’re all Spanish, but can’t confirm. The only Barbie movie that didn’t do British Accents, I’m pretty sure. Vocal Diversity is 10/10 

4. Barbie Fairytopia Series 

> The Big Thing: DISABILITY IN A FANTASY WORLD DONE WELL. Like holy shit the plot is the Big Bad is commiting bio-terrorism by poisoning the air that affects all faeries except for Elina because she was born without wings. DISABILITY BECOMING THE ONLY THING THAT CAN SAVE YOU. YES. She does  get wings at the end, but I always saw it as a prostetic because if she lost her necklace she lost her wings. And in a later movie she has to trade them away to save someone. 

> Bibble is valid 

> This series does the “girl who doesn’t fit in” trope well because Elina is constantly seen as the girl who doesn’t fit in. In the first movie she’s the girl without wings, in the second she’s the faerie, not a mermaid (Nori gets mean towards her because the mermaid prince wanted a fairy to save him or someting like that), and in the last one, I’m pretty sure she’s sort of regarded as the charity case. I can’t remember exactly, so don’t quote me. Either way, Elina is the most relateable Barbie character for people who struggle fitting in wherever they go because Elina never fits in at first (but it’s a barbie movie, so you know, acceptance and stuff) 

> This marks the third movie on this list with an assassination attempt for power. Power #Corrupts 

> Good overcoming narrative. Elina survives all her trials towards being accepted in society. 

5. Barbie as the Island Princess

> The Big Thing: This one is tricky because Barbie is a white character, and that is a valid critique for this one. However, the topic is handled well despite this fault due to the movie’s context. This one is about a status quo society and their treatment towards a different “Cultural” upbringing. Ro grew up on an island alone outside of society and talks to animals. She has an entire different set of values and beliefs. Her curiosity sets her off into a populated civilzation and a big part of the movie is the Prince Character making genuine efforts to help her adapt and make her comfortable for what she is used to, and the rest of the society relegating her to a barbarian. She struggles trying to fit in to a society that wants her to adapt to their society, but refuses to make any adaptions to hers. Her not being from there is eventually what saves the day, which is a healthy message that differnet people learn the world differnetly, and these cultures can meet and interact and help each other without forcing one to obliterate itself. Ro doesn’t stay in that society. She goes off sailing with the prince character, a happy medium from her island roots and desire to be around other people. 

> ANOTHER assassination attempt. 

> Big Bad has a daughter she’s trying to marry to the Prince, but the daughter doesn’t love him and is happy that he finds love. she and Ro are friends. 10/10 Women supporting women. 

> Ro’s cultural roots are celebrated a lot. It’s nice! 

> Prince never puts Ro in a corner to change, from what I remember. He guides her through what she’s willing to do, and helps accomidate her with that makes her uncomfortable (sleeps in the greenhouse,for example). 10/10 m8

6. Barbie and the Diamond Castle

> The Big Thing: The catalyst of this movie is Liana and Alexa’s lively hood being destoryed by a storm, and now homeless and jobless, they end up questing with a magic mirror to save Melody and the other trapped Muses. Alexa is hesitant and even gives up to stay in a Lotus Casino type place because there’s food and shelter there. There’s a heavy value on having enough to eat, and having a place to live. Displacement and poverty, I guess is the right word for this. 

> Okay so I heard around that Alexa and Liana are queer coded based on their dress colors in the final scene matching the Lesbian and Bisexual Flag and I stan that because honestly, Barbie need some gay. 

> The Will Sing For Food scene hits differently than any other scene in Barbie Movies. It’s just such a real thing. 

7. Barbie and the Three Musketeers 

> The Big Thing: Sexsim. This one is very on the nose of “women can’t do this.” and then Barbie adn Co proves them wrong!! 

> I am pretty sure there are SEVERAL assasination attempts in this one. 

> “Release the Fireworks!!” is carved into my mind. 

> The Master Trainer is an old lady maid. Cool trope subversion. 

Honestly, people who cry about adult themes in their kids movies need to watch these movies. Did you notice how many ASSASSINATIONS happen in these movies? SO MUCH ASSASSINATION. 

These movies are deeper and more complex than given credit for. I can admit that Barbie’s early movies didn’t do great with racial representation, but we can also praise them for accomplishing their aim of empowering young girls as much as they did. 

I can’t say much for mordern Barbie since that’s not my era. Perhaps someone else can comment about that better than I can. 

TL;DR: Barbie movies deal with adult themes in a child friendly setting and they are well done and you should go watch them and see how much deeper and complex these movies can be. 

A Barbie Movie I DO NOT STAN: Princess and the Pop Star. That movie is “Two whiny girls hate their privlaged life and wish they were someone else’s privlaged life and I guess help the poor” It’s not good. You can enjoy the bops it produced, but that movie is INSANELY Problomatic. 

[morganas-pendragons]

Dancing With Your Ghosts | Prologue

This story features an OC of mine - Emma Skywalker - who is married to Luke and was the daughter of Obi-Wan. Her mother is also mentioned. For sake of it, she and Leia are Generals who oversee The Rebellion. The Jedi!Reader has psychometry. 

This is my first clone related series besides Child Soldiers (which, so you know, is getting updated soon) and I asked who’d like to be tagged because I am so excited to write it! I know clone fic isn’t super.. in demand at the moment, but I haven’t felt motivated to write for them in forever, so I hope this gives those of you who are here something to say about it!

if you’d like to be tagged, let me know!

tag: @nelba / @mickeymouse-moshpit​/ @iamassbuttkingofhell / @majorshiraharu / @fractiouskat​ / @libradusk​ / @generic-geek-girl​ / @obi-bae-kenobi​ / @sacred-things​ / @midnightredemption​ / @thatbitchfromkamino​ / @captainrexsbiggesthoe​ / @littlevodika​

It’s a quiet day when Emma receives the intel about the clone trooper. He’s been asleep in cryo-stasis for fifty years. Worlds have come and gone since he went to sleep. People have turned to ash and have bid this galaxy farewell. 

His brothers. All of them. 

The men who died for a lie. 

The reports call him Kix. You hadn’t been apart of the retrieval team sent to the wreckage of the Separatist ship when Emma and Leia had been sent the data about him. You knew nothing except what you’d read in his report that had been composed before the fall of the Old Republic. 

CLONE TROOPER KIX - CT 6116

MEDIC TO THE 501ST ATTACK LEGION 

JEDI GENERAL: ANAKIN SKYWALKER 

SUSPECTED TREASON AGAINST CHANCELLOR PALPATINE 

STATUS: MIA 

commentary from his jedi: Kix is the best medic I have seen during the entire war. Attentive and intuitive, his sharp mind and even softer heart have gotten many of my men through their injuries and back onto the front lines of the battlefield. He gives so much of himself that we often forget he’s just as breakable as the rest of us. - a.t. 

another side note from his ‘’other’’ jedi: rex said if kix doesn’t sleep tonight, i’m to drug him - how? who knows, we are not cowards here - but i see his concern, kix doesn’t know how to take care of himself - a.t.

BONUS: He really just needs to be reminded to take care of himself. One of the best men and medics the GAR has. 

You ran your fingertips over the picture that was displayed on your data pad. He seemed.. sweet. Haunted. Innocent. Like the war had made him into who he was.. and he had never really gotten to be anything other then that. Kix was supposed to be someone who saved people. 

He couldn’t save everyone. 

You understood that better then most. 

  “You tighten your fingers around that saber anymore then you already are, and you’re going to have sore fingers.” Emma lightly teased as she joined your side where you stood waiting in the hangar. General Skywalker had taken you on as her Apprentice upon meeting you on (insert planet) and having seen your skill with a blade. All you had of your former life was your saber and your name. “Are you alright, vod’ika?” 

Her father had been fluent in Mando’a, and so had she. It was only logical that she passed it onto you. 

  “I worry about this clone.” You murmur. You often wonder how the Jedi of Old were able to walk throughout their lives without having any attachment - because now here you stand mere moments away from meeting a man, a legend, who is going to wake up and realize how alone he is - and the thought of Kix being lost in a world so unlike the one he came from makes your heart ache. “I’ve been lost in the galaxy before.. before you found me, General.” 

  “You have an unique gift.” Emma replied. “Psychometry was rare in the times of the Jedi Order, and your gift proves extremely beneficial to The Rebellion. You’ve made quite good progress since you arrived.” She nodded in the direction of the shuttle Poe and Finn had taken for the retrieval as the wings leveled and the wheels settled onto the landing platform. “I have high hopes for this clone just as I did for you. I imagine he’ll be the same.” 

He’s not a clone. 

You watch, expression contorted by your nerves, as the ramp descends and several technicians - along with the small contingent of soldiers who had accompanied Poe - gingerly move a hovering cryo-stasis chamber out into the open. 

He’s a man. 

Emma calls something out to Poe and the technicians on site as the pod lid opens. All the people present wait with baited breath for the hibernating clone within to stir and be welcomed back into the world. 

A brand new world. 

It’s hard to hide your gasp of surprise at the sight of the man who slowly sits up at the waist and peers around the hangar like a newborn child coming into the world. Dark tresses hang around his brow bone and frame sharp onyx eyes that are surveying the hangar as if he is trying to assess his surroundings and where he is. 

And then his eyes recognize the sight of people. Humans. 

  “Where am I?” He calls out. You stiffen at your sudden urge to rush forward and grasp his arm so his legs don’t give out, but Emma stops you and takes a tentative step forward. The two of you had spent a considerable amount of time talking about her past and her father’s dedication to his battalion during The Clone War. Emma Kenobi-Skywalker had grown up in a little hut with two legends - a mother and father who had lived and breathed for their Order and for each other - that had whispered stories of their fallen friends and soldiers, brothers in arms, underneath a blanket of stars. “This isn’t Anaxes.” 

  “You’re in The Rebel base, trooper.” Emma said. “Can you tell me your name?” 

  “Designation CT-6116-” 

  “No.” She shakes her head, and that’s Kix’s first clue that this jeti in front of him is not the typical jeti he encountered during the war. “I will not lower you to your designation number. I asked you your name.” 

He hesitates for a minute. You recognize that look. It’s one that only appears in what you believe to be a threat on your life. You are in enemy territory and one slip up costs you everything. 

You intend to ensure that he doesn’t believe that to be the case here. That he woke up in a new world, that he is safe, and he can fight in this war if he so chooses to. You refuse to let the Generals coerce him into fighting another war that isn’t his to fight. 

  “Kix. My name is Kix.” 

Emma smiles then. “It’s nice to meet you, baar’ur.” She greets, pushing loose blonde hair behind her shoulders as she slowly approaches where he stands trembling beside the pod that has kept him safe since the ship he was captured on crashed. “My name is Emma. Emma Skywalker.” 

Your eyes catch Kix’s then. His own flicker to the lightsabers fastened on your hips and then slowly shift back to General Skywalker who has yet to show a glimpse of reluctance in her expression. She is nothing but open and welcome to him. Something he will desperately need. 

  “Are you..” He swallows the knot in his throat. It’s still such a sore topic to remember his aliit. He just needs to get back to them- “Are you related to Anakin Skywalker?” 

  “He was my father’s best friend. My father was Obi-Wan Kenobi and my mother was Opal Stone.” Kix’s eyes flood with tears that he struggles to keep contained at the mention of a jeti who had been his best friend throughout nearly the entire war. Opal Kenobi would’ve gone to hell and back to keep him and his vode safe. “You can call me Emma.” 

Breathless and awed by how composed he is, you keep walking forward despite Poe’s insistent call of your name, and you remove your gloves to lay your fingertips against Kix’s armor. You cannot see the past - or the story - of the person you touch without there being something for you to pull the memories from. 

  “No, wait-” 

Clone armor has hundreds if not thousands of memories written into its design. Bloodshed and brokenness and the rattling, rasping cries of dying brothers as they fumble for grasps on their vode’s armor and suddenly lose their ability to breathe. 

When you touch Kix - the clone medic pulled from time itself - the world around you disappears, and you’re thrown right into the devastation of The Clone Wars. Psychometry really is a fascinating Force ability at its root because of how unpredictable it is, but even in spite of that, you are still privy to some of the most devastating events you have ever seen in your life. There is laughter and joy, sorrow and heartbreak, funeral pyre upon funeral pyre on a world so overcome by shadow that you can hardly see the fires that are lit, the anguish of a brother and the blood that stains his hands. 

And then there’s nothing but screaming and the cold. 

Kix jerks backward like he’s been burnt. So do you. 

   “Jedi, what did you see?” 

You don’t even react to the fact he called you a Jedi. You’ve tried your best to carry on the legacy of a long dead religion because it gave you a purpose in this world, a purpose in this fight against The First Order.. but you consider yourself a poor imitation compared to the figures swathed in Light that you’d seen running through Kix’s memories. 

Because despite the darkness and the fire and the overwhelming torture that has been his entire existence, Kix has always felt one thing inside. 

It’s what he had to be in the face of the war. War is not kind to those who are soft hearted. 

  “Te ciryc bal te dha.” 

The cold and the dark. 

[ttttaehyungie]

sincerely, but no longer yours | chapter 2

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sincerely, but no longer yours | ex!kim namjoon x reader

☘  genre | angst, exes au

☘  summary | It started as a coping mechanism as getting the words out provided a form of catharsis. But now you can’t stop writing these love letters, even with the knowledge that they’ll never get sent. After all, who writes love letters to their ex?

☘  word count | 5.6k

☘  rating | PG-13

☘  warnings | none

☘  a/n | ngl this update is coming later than i intended 🙈🙈 life has been pretty demanding on me lately butttt here we go!! chapter 2 😌 as always, thank you all you lovelies for reading, and let me know what you think 💕

The blare of the alarm pierces straight through the pleasantry of slumber and has you fumbling blindly for your phone. It’s right there on the bedside table. You refuse to open your eyes to the morning light that streams into your apartment. Finally, your searching hand finds the coolness of the device that's vibrating away angrily where it sits. Within a few attempts, swiping with your eyes still stubbornly closed, you get it to shut up. Rolling over, you snuggle further down under the covers, basking in the cozy warmth.

Beep. Beep.

Of course the moment of peace is not meant to last. The five-minute snooze duration on your alarm provides but a temporary respite. You groan.

But you kick the covers off, letting the cold morning air be what shocks you into alertness. Remaining in bed is really tempting, sure.

Thank god you love your job enough to overcome the daily inertia of getting up.

You shiver a little as your bare feet hit the chilly floor. Pulling the oversized shirt that is your staple sleepwear closer to you in an attempt to retain some body heat, the thought of purchasing a fluffy robe is beginning to look less and less impulsive and more and more justifiable as a necessity. With the lack of said fluffy robe, you rush to the bathroom in search of the comfort that's found in standing under the warm spray of the shower.

Your daily morning shower always gets you sufficiently awake, or enough for you to at least be in the right state of mind to make your cup of coffee that will wake you up entirely. The coffee machine had been a splurge at the time of purchase. But it’s established itself well enough within your morning routine to be considered an investment at this point. Sipping your coffee- with cream and no sugar- in between your daily make-up routine has your insides all toasty and warm.

The hot beverage exponentially increases in importance on rainy mornings like these. It’s nothing too drastic, just a light drizzle. But it makes the concrete jungle that you live in feel extra cold, and in more ways than just in temperature. The lack of lush greenery and the stiff silence of the people rushing about to get on with their hectic daily lives often leaves the city atmosphere feeling gray and dreary.

But you can’t complain.

Not when you’re one of the exceptional cases that gets to do what you truly love. In fact, being surrounded by the robotic throngs that drag themselves to the towering skyscrapers that house these big fancy corporations of blah only makes you even more aware that what you have is something coveted.

Working as a museum curator definitely wasn’t your childhood dream. But your college days had awakened the deep passion for art history that had laid dormant in you for years.

And now, here you are. Living in the big city and working for a prestigious museum. Who would have imagined that small-town you would have achieved all of this?

You absolutely love it. This little space in the world you’ve carved out is yours. You’re chasing after your own dream and living out your passion.

Maybe that’s one thing you should be thankful for from the breakup. Being thrust into singleness had left you helplessly untethered at first what with the abrupt upheaval of all the plans you’d initially laid out.

But perhaps it was what you needed. You needed to be an individual. You needed to know what that individuality meant. And your self-exploration, free from just chasing his shadow, brought you to discover your interest in curatorial work.

Which, in turn, brought you to the city.

The very same city that the breakup had happened in.

The fates truly have a sense of humor, pulling you back to the place which was once the site of heartbreak and tragedy, but is now the launchpad for your ambitions and self-actualization.

Or, much more plausibly, it was not the fates but a matter of practicality and statistics. It’s a big city, housing multiple big-name museums. It’s only natural that the city would become the base for you to build up your career once you completed your post-grad studies.

Once upon a time, when things were still a little too raw, you’d sworn off this place entirely. The city was simply too filled with memories, both good and bad, of him.

But that line of thought simply couldn’t hold up for too long. After all, by that same logic, your own hometown would have had to be boycotted as well.

Through your extended reverie, your hands- well-seasoned to the movements they execute daily- had finished your simple make-up routine. One final spritz of setting spray, and you release your now damp hair from where it sat bundled in the towel atop your head. As you absentmindedly blow dry your hair, your thoughts wander off on their own once again.

Your decision to move out to the city was one that was made in full knowledge that Namjoon was still here. This city is not affectionately termed the city of dreams for nothing. As an aspiring writer and a boy with a city soul, it was the most natural progression of events that he chose to remain in the city after graduating from college. Living in the city made it convenient for him to meet up with his editor and publishing company.

Or so you’ve heard from Hoseok. It’s been years since your break up and neither of you have reached out to close that awkward distance that rifted between you. Anyway, when you were moving out here, you figured that in a city as big as this with such a dense population, there’s little chance that you’ll actually bump into him.

Okay. You apologize to whatever deity it is out there for your earlier dismissal of the fates. Now that you think about it, they truly exist, and boy do they have a sense of humor.

Who would think that even in a city as large as yours, you’d still manage to run into him? And not just once, but a number of times now.

The first time, it was in a diner just two streets down from the museum that you had planned to go to for lunch. That is, until you spotted him through the window, chatting with a companion, his tanned skin and dimpled smile the same as always. Suffice to say, your lunch plans changed.

Then on a quiet afternoon in the museum, your little workplace trio had slipped out together for a coffee break under Yeri’s insistence. Apparently, the new cafe down the road served an oat milk latte that was to die for, or at least good enough to drag you and Soo-eun out for.

Turns out the cafe’s reputation had reached Namjoon’s ears too, because there he was, seated by the window with a mess of papers filled with his scrawly handwriting. The choice of seating was so… Joon. He’d always justified his fascination with people-watching by claiming it to be an essential part of his creative process.

Thankfully, this creative process seemed to be going well for him and took his full attention, allowing you to slip into the cafe unnoticed. A true feat, really, considering how animated Yeri gets when she’s chatty. With your oat milk latte in hand- also this damn drink better be so good it brings you to your knees on the first sip given the things you’ve had to endure to obtain it- you’re ready to make your swift escape from this risky situation.

As Soo-eun pushes the door open, you steal a leftwards glance. Your heart stills for a second. A pair of familiar, striking eyes is trained on you, and they widen just a fraction upon being caught. You can feel your own features making their own reflex reaction as the shock runs electric through you.

The awkward eye contact is forcibly broken as you follow after your friends, refusing to acknowledge the moment the two of you just shared. That was all it was- a moment- but it felt like time came to a standstill the moment your eyes met.

This freezing of time seems to be recurrent in your run-ins with Namjoon. The next time you see him is when you’re riding the subway home. Your pubescent years had seen Namjoon shooting up in height. You can’t forget the countless times he’d had to stoop down for you so you could press a chaste goodbye kiss to his cheek. What an inconvenience it’d been.

But what a convenience it is in this scenario. His head, though bent over a book, towers over the rush hour crowd squeezed into the carriage. With his height, you’d spotted his presence within mere seconds of him boarding the train.

The shock that had jolted through you had you dropping your eye gaze and ducking your head, letting your hair fall as a shield to conceal you. And it was a pretty effective one, as your surreptitious monitoring revealed that he was none the wiser to your presence.

However your next challenge comes when it’s your stop next and he’s standing right by the exit. As the train pulls into the station, you pray hard that he returns to his book and remains sufficiently engrossed in it for you to make your escape. Keeping your gaze on the ground, you worm your way around the crowd, mumbling out ‘pardon me’s.

Perhaps that was your downfall, was what alerted him to your presence. You’re stepping out of the carriage and so close to sweet, sweet relief.

But something brushes your arm just as you’re passing by him- a hand maybe? Your breath catches. Time halts. You steel your nerves. Ignore it. Just keep walking.

As the whirring of the blow dryer switches off, so does your unrestrained recalling come to an end. Downing the last of your coffee- now barely warm- you bring it to the kitchen to wash away the dredges the same way you wash away the thoughts of Namjoon.

"One more week, everyone!" Yeri cheers, as she turns her chair, swapping her cushy flats out for some black heels. That can only mean one thing- she’s headed for a night out.

"Have fun, Yeri," you say.

"Fun? What is that? At this point in our timeline, all I know is the hustle, babe."

You glance meaningfully at her shoes.

"Happy hour drinks with one of our patrons so I can secure the loan on this piece that you listed as absolutely essential," she explains in response to your pointed look.

"Ok, ok. Go work your magic."

She smirks. "That’s right, trust me to be your resident miracle worker."

"Just make sure it comes on time, please. The exhibition spatial plotting on this one looks intense," Soo-eun pipes up quietly.

"Hey, where’s the vote of confidence in our heavenly trio?" Yeri says.

"I mean, we’re good at what we do, but exhibition design never gets any less stressful."

"Don’t worry, Soo-eun, we’ll deliver an excellent exhibition as per usual," you say, instilling in them the confidence that you genuinely feel when working with this team. "With Yeri’s charisma in securing the loans on the pieces we need, coupled with your eye in exhibition design, it’ll be great as per usual."

Ever since that first exhibition you’d all been thrown together for, the synergy between the three of you was undeniable, both to yourselves and to your other coworkers who were mere witnesses of it.

"And not forgetting your taste in selection of pieces too, ____. See, there’s the vote of confidence I was looking for," Yeri says. She applies a fresh coat of her merlot red lipstick and inspects her appearance in her compact mirror. Deeming herself presentable, she gets up from her desk, handbag casually and stylishly slung on her forearm. "Ok, I’m off. TGIF, everyone! Don’t stay too late working on those descriptions, ____."

You hum in response, your eyes glued to said descriptions that were only half-written at this point. Maybe a weekend working overtime is in order.

"Oh! Don’t forget, we’ve got brunch with Dong-In tomorrow. He really enjoyed your company the last time," Yeri says, as if she read your mind. There goes your overtime plans for the weekend that you were mentally pencilling in.

"Right. You make sure that you don’t get too wasted and miss brunch tomorrow."

"Hey, it’s a strictly professional drinking session tonight."

"Mmhm, but I’m sure you’ll find a group of friends for drinks after the meeting. When have you ever missed a night out on the town on a Friday?"

"Touche."

You smirk when she concedes. You love Yeri with all your being, but she’s a party girl at heart and you know her well. "Text me when you’re up tomorrow."

"Will do, babe. I’ve really got to run now or I’ll be late and lose you your art piece."

"All the best, Yeri!" Soo-eun calls after her.

"Thanks, and all the best, Yeri!" you echo.

Sinking back in the plush of your desk chair, you return to the write-ups and sigh.

"Just one more week, ____. Like you said, we’ve got this," Soo-eun encourages.

The next day begins much like the previous, with you fumbling for your alarm in your sleep-addled state and groaning when the five minute snooze duration passes way quicker than what five minutes feels like.

You go through your usual morning routine- shower, coffee, make-up, hair- but can afford to chill out with nowhere to rush to. Weekend mornings are to be savored for their unhurried pace. Getting up is a pain, but you relish the quiet, unbroken serenity of the mornings enough to haul yourself out of bed, even if you don’t have work to head out for.

To be frank, you’re enjoying the peacefulness of your morning so immensely that when 10am rolls around and there’s still no sign from Yeri that she’s awake- you’ve done your due diligence, you’ve dropped her at least five texts and multiple calls to check if she’s alive- the temptation to just ditch your brunch plans grows harder to fight.

Well technically, it’s Yeri’s brunch plans… So if she doesn’t wake up for them then it’s not really your fault, is it?

Dialling her number one last time brings you to her voicemail- Hey, it’s Yeri! If you’re hearing this, it either means I’m busy, asleep, or ignoring you. Just leave your message after the beep and I’ll get back to you as soon as I can. Unless I’m ignoring you, in which case, … *beep*- and you smile as you find your scapegoat.

[10.07am] ____: hey dong in, mornnn, i don’t think yeri’s awake

[10.07am] ____: soooo i don’t think she’ll be making it to brunch at this rate

[10.08am] ____: should we take a rain check on this?

Your phone buzzes a little while later.

[10.11am] Dong-In: oh damn, ok then.

[10.13am] Dong-In: catch you another time?

You know that you should feel bad, but you can’t help the joy that washes through you at the prospect of being able to just stay home. Homebody tendencies die hard. Being conscious not to sound too happy, you type a reply quickly, letting Dong-In know you’ll check with Yeri when she’s free next.

The sudden freeing up of your day has you giddy with excitement. With your hair up in a bun and hitting play on your favorite Broadway musicals spotify playlist, you set about tidying your apartment as you sing to yourself. The mess in your apartment has been steadily accumulating in your neglect as a result of the busy schedules at work. But it’s gotten to a point where even you can’t stand it. And more importantly, Hoseok, with his particularity on cleanliness, is coming to visit next week.

When your apartment’s sufficiently clean, you make breakfast with whatever leftovers you can muster from your depleting food supplies. Consuming your pathetically pulled together breakfast omelette that consists of the last egg in the fridge and an overripe, almost-mush tomato cements the next item on your agenda. It’s time to go grocery shopping.

You’re midway to the grocery store when your phone buzzes in your pocket in quick succession as if provoked.

[12.18pm] Yeri: BINCH did you not go to brunch??

[12.18pm] Yeri: duDE

[12.18pm] Yeri: !!!!!!!!

[12.18pm] Yeri: ____ i s2g

[12.18pm] ____: well good morning to you too

[12.19pm] ____: you were dead to the world

[12.19pm] ____: i called you at least eight times and dropped you multiple texts

[12.19pm] ____: why are you coming at me this way huh

[12.19pm] ____: anyway i told dong in to postpone

[12.19pm] Yeri: ok oK too much shouting for this hungover bij

[12.19pm] ____: yeri it’s all over text…

[12.20pm] Yeri: typing in caps makes it shout in my head alrite

Yeri’s drama queen antics are truly one of a kind. It has you rolling your eyes, but you smile. Well now that she’s awake, you figured lunch and a hangout could substitute for your cancelled brunch plans. And of course, hungover Yeri is always in need of tender loving care. Your grocery shopping plans can always wait.

[12.20pm] ____: anyway your personal postmates is on its way to you so ‘hungover bij’ had better be grateful

[12.20pm] ____: see you in 20

[12.20pm] Yeri: ok i take it all back I LOVE YOU YOU’RE THE BEST

You get to Yeri’s place and it’s unexpected but not surprising that Soo-eun’s the one who opens the door to let you in. It makes sense, a weekend hangout would simply be incomplete without her. Plus, the task of nursing your hungover friend is not something to be taken on alone.

"Soo-eun!" You wrap an arm around her in greeting, which she returns.

"Hey, ____," she responds. "Yeri’s in the shower but she should be out soon."

"How bad is it?" you ask, releasing her and heading to the kitchen.

Soo-eun trails after you. "It’s been worse. And food will make her hangover better."

"It’s a good thing you’re here. We need your voice of reason to mediate the dumbass squabbles hungover Yeri and my impatient ass will undoubtedly get into."

Soo-eun simply laughs at your antics, shaking her head. She's well-accustomed to her role as peacemaker by now.

Another voice rings through the kitchen area where you stand with Soo-eun. "Wow, the disrespect! Breaking and entering into my house to gossip about me?"

Yeri enters, her usual bouncy ringlets now hang limp and wet, creating a damp spot over her chest where it sticks to her oversized t-shirt. In contrast to her usual self, hungover Yeri forgoes style for comfort.

"Case in point," you say. Before Yeri can bite back a response, you interject with a raise of the takeout bag in your hand.

"Hmph. I will forgive you this time. But only because you come bearing peace offerings."

"Only because you think with your stomach, you mean."

"Okay my hungover brain doesn’t want to argue anymore. Just want food."

With that, the three of you are crashing on the couch while Yeri takes liberal bites of her burger. The fries get split amongst you, picked at sporadically between your playful gossiping.

The upcoming exhibition- that's opening in a week, wow, where did all that time go?- is a pretty big one, and the three of you have been slogging it out for months now. At this stage of the project, having a weekend to kick back and relax has become a true rarity. It makes you treasure the time together even more.

But in that vengeful manner that time seems to get when you're enjoying yourselves, the afternoon slips by when it feels like it's barely even begun. Outside the looming windows of Yeri’s loft apartment, the sun is beginning to set. The tv is playing but it’s the equivalent of a murmur, just ambient noise as the three of you soak in the coziness of physical closeness.

None of you wants to shatter the quiet calm that has settled in like a blanket over you, but someone has to. And that someone is you.

You lift your head from where it rests on Soo-eun’s shoulder. Your light jostling causes Yeri to lift her head from where it lays on your lap.

You sigh. "I’ve procrastinated grocery shopping for the entire day. And the fridge isn't getting any fuller the longer I stay."

Yeri whines and plops her head back down onto your lap, pressing down forcefully to keep you from getting up.

"Or we could all go to the store together," Soo-eun says. Yeri's head pops up at the suggestion.

"Idea! Let's go!" she says, scrambling up from her reclined position across the couch. "You brought me Arby’s, it’s only fair I do groceries with you."

You turn to Soo-eun, but she’s replying before you can even ask. "I suggested it, of course I’m ok with it."

"Fine," you huff, but they both know it’s feigned annoyance. All three of you are as clingy to each other as the next is. "You can come along. But we’re only buying the necessities. Only. Necessities."

Your basket is full of non-necessities thrown in by Yeri. You really should have made a shopping list.

While Yeri is busy perusing the next aisle, Soo-eun removes the bags of chips Yeri had thrown in (because ‘this is a necessity! You never have any snacks when we crash at your place, I’m just thinking ahead for our future hangouts!’) and places them back on the shelf it came from. You smile at her gratefully.

Yeri returns with another armful of snacks.

"Yeri," you groan. "I came for fresh produce, not this. I already had an overripe tomato for breakfast. I’m not up for eating junk food as sustenance for the rest of the week."

"Well you could have had a nice fresh meal if you didn’t skip out on brunch. Poor Dong-In, I can’t believe you cancelled brunch with him."

"Hm," you say, walking ahead down the grocery aisle, "if you feel so bad for Dong-In, maybe you shouldn’t have overslept on us then."

Yeri chases after you to dump the snacks in your basket. "You could have just gone without me. He’s a nice guy, y’know."

"No way, that would be too awkward. What would we even talk about? We’re so different."

"You’ve only met him twice. Who knows? Maybe he belts out Broadway songs in the shower just like you and you can finally find the Phantom to your… Opera."

Walking just behind the two of you, Soo-eun’s laughter, though hastily masked by a cough, could be heard.

"It’s Christine. And if you’d watched the musical, you would know not to wish Phantom on anyone," you say.

"Whatever! I’m just saying, it takes more than two meetings to know someone. Give him a chance, ____."

"Wait." You freeze mid-step. You turn to Yeri. "Are you trying to set me up with Dong-In?!"

Yeri’s eyes roll in exaggerated exasperation. When she’s done, she folds her arms and her body language sends a loud and clear, "Duh."

You frantically pull your phone out from where it sits in the pocket of your jeans. Swiping quickly to read your text conversations with Dong-In in the light of this new information, you’re absolutely mortified by your lack of awareness and worried if you’ve come off as brash in your ignorance.

"Does he know? Am I the only one who’s unaware?!"

This time, it’s Soo-eun that pitches in. "Even as a third party, it was pretty obvious Yeri was trying to matchmake you two. So… sorry, ____, but it’s just you."

You sputter.

"It’s alright. Your obliviousness is part of your charm," Yeri says.

"And," Soo-eun cuts in before you can retort, "you have no obligation to feel anything for Dong-In. So if you’re not interested in him that way, you just aren’t."

Yeri huffs, but agrees. "She’s right. But- now that you’re finally aware- give him a chance alright?"

As it turns out, you never get to give Dong-In that chance. With the exhibition launching in less than a week, it's a crazy sprint to the finish-line, and your days are simply too packed to think about anything other than preparing for the exhibition.

The exhibition itself has a short lifespan- it'll be open to the public for a relatively short period of six months.

But accompanying it is a series of open lectures meant for public education of the arts. Yeri, who is simply amazing at patron relations, managed to rope in guest lecturers for the next few months. But the museum thought it would be an excellent idea to have one of their own resident curators to helm the first of the series of lectures.

And it was an excellent idea. Just not for the curator who had to take it on. And that curator would be you.

Sitting in the first row of seats in the auditorium, you try your best to refrain from looking back. You can hear the buzz of the audience behind you as they stream in. It sounds like a sizable amount of people. Looking back would only spook you out further, so you focus your attention on the index cards in your hands, running through your main points again and again.

You take a deep breath in, and heave it out in an attempt to release the anxiety built up in your chest. A warm hand gently pries your right hand’s nervous grip off your index cards.

"____," Soo-eun says. She's smiling assuredly at you when you look up at her. "You'll be great."

From your left, Yeri gives your shoulder a light shove. "Yeah. You've got this, girl!"

"We've seen the amount of effort you've put into this. It'll pay off," Soo-eun says.

Their words breathe a deep sense of confidence in you. After all, they're the ones who had to bear with your stress and they're the witnesses to consecutive late nights you've pulled in the office to get your script and slides done. This particular iteration of the script was a product of not just your work, but their benevolence and hard work too at editing and proofreading.

Squeezing Soo-eun's hand in yours in a bid to get rid of the jitters, you nod at them.

"We've got this," you say.

The clock hits time and you walk on stage, focusing on keeping one foot in front of the other and focusing on not- oh god forbid- tripping over your heels. The nerves are still present as you take your place at the podium, but you ignore the way your hands tremble ever so slightly.

You greet the audience, capturing their attention, and begin your presentation. And as you begin talking about your subject matter- the topic you've spent months researching and studying- the nerves melt away and your passion begins to take center-stage in your mind instead.

You're so immersed in the topic that you're just going and going, and soon enough you've reached the end of your script and the ‘Q&A’ slide is up on screen. Applause fills the auditorium, and you smile, genuinely pleased that people seem to have enjoyed your presentation. In the corner of your eye, you see Yeri cheering, and Soo-eun shoots you two thumbs-up.

"Thank you." You bow slightly. "I'll open the time up to the floor. If anyone has any questions, you may feel free to ask them now."

You scan across the auditorium, looking out for questions, when-

Time freezes in that way it always seems to whenever your eyes meet. Seated somewhere in one of the middle aisles but off to the right of the auditorium, long limbs crossed one over the other in his black slacks, Namjoon's eyes are wide as yours catch on him as if encountering a snag.

Oh. My. God. What is he doing here?

Peeling your eyes off him, you skim across the room again. Thankfully, a few hands are raised now and you take their questions, offering yourself a means of escape. But your attention is split and it takes intentional effort as you forcibly will yourself to look at anything but him.

"Okay, I'm afraid that's all the questions we have time for. But I'll be around with some of the other curators for a couple more minutes if anyone has any other questions about the exhibition," you say, gesturing to Yeri and Soo-eun, who wave at the public.

As the audience disperses, you walk off stage, hoping he'll just quietly leave.

No such luck, apparently. From your peripheral vision, you see him coming over as a few other members of the public come up to you to thank you for your lecture.

"Hey," he says, and the familiarity of his warm tone hits you like a punch in the gut, "um, you did a really good job today."

As if your break up hadn't happened the way it did, as if the numerous awkward encounters hadn't taken place, as if it didn't hurt you right now just seeing his face properly after all these years, you put up a front. You smile at him diplomatically.

"Thanks," you say. Your tone is kept even, professional. "How did you find it?"

"It was great, really. I've come to a couple of the museum's exhibitions, but this is the first lecture I've attended."

"Yeah, it's a new thing we decided to introduce for this particular exhibition."

"It's great, yeah. Gives more depth and insight to the art pieces and really makes the whole thing come alive when you see it from the curator's perspective."

You nod. "Nice. That was our intention."

"Anyway," he pauses and runs a hand through his hair self-consciously, "how have you been? It's been a long time."

You bite back the scathing remark that sits on the tip of your tongue. It's almost too enticing to finally let him have it after the years of torment he'd caused you after your break up. The torment that still lives in you, muted under layers of numbness that you've buried it under. Did he even feel the pain in the same measure that you did?

"I'm good." You're tempted to leave it at that. But there's just something in his eyes, something... like a plea? that makes it impossible for you to be cold to him the way your past self imagined you would be. "I've been living in the city for a couple of years now. I'm working in the museum as a curator, as you can see, and yeah, life has been good for me."

Before you can stop yourself, you find yourself reciprocating his question. Ultimately, you can't deny your burning curiosity at what he's been up to. "What about you? How have things been for you?"

"I finally got published a few years back," he says, and you nod as if this is new information to you. Truth is, on your summer break back home that year, your eavesdropping ways had brought the news to you as you heard Hoseok congratulating him on his breakthrough. He laughs lightly. "My life has kind of just revolved around writing, getting inspiration from different sources to write, then writing more. If it sounds really mundane, it's because it is."

"No way." You shake your head. "You're living your dream, Namjoon. Wasn't it always your ambition to be a published author?"

You regret it almost immediately, bringing up the past. Anything to do with the past is dangerous territory. Hell, having a conversation with him that's more than just polite small talk about cursory topics devoid of personal details and emotions (i.e. a conversation like this one) is dangerous territory.

He murmurs something, and you’re certain you mishear him. "You remember."

"Pardon?"

"No, I was agreeing with you. Yeah, it is."

In the background, your slides click off, and it pulls you out of your conversation with Namjoon.

"I think I've gotta go," you say, pointing to the podium where Soo-eun collects your belongings. "My friends are waiting for me."

"Oh!" Namjoon says, turning to look at where you're pointing. "Yeah, don't wanna hold you up any longer. Thanks for your time today."

He turns to go, and you can't help the nagging discomfort at the way things are left hanging between the two of you.

"Hey!" you call. He turns back. "Do you want to do dinner? Hoseok is coming out for the weekend, so do you want to hang out, the three of us? We're going to the diner two streets down from here."

Funny. Didn’t you avoid this diner to avoid Namjoon the last time? Again, it seems the fates truly have a sense of humor.

Namjoon's eyebrows raise in surprise, but it's momentary and quickly replaced as his features soften into a grateful smile. His dimples appear and you hate how, even after all these years, it still has the power to wring your heart out.

"That sounds really nice, actually," he says.

"Is seven ok for you?"

"Seven’s good. I'll see you and Hoseok then."

"See you," you say and he nods. This time, he turns to go for real.

As you watch his retreating figure, you wonder if you really made the right choice, opening the door for him to re-enter your life after all these years.

[brianwilly]

Game of Thrones did the thing that a couple of shows do where...it likes feminism.  It understood that feminism is important.  It wanted to be feminist.  It was cognizant of the fact that its setting was brazenly and intentionally misogynistic, and so it was even more important for its independent narrative to empower its female characters instead of mindlessly reinforcing the toxic beliefs of its own fictional world.  The whole point of the story, after all, was “this society is toxic, can our heroes survive it?” and so the narrative was voluntarily self-critical.

And so it knew to give us badass assassin Arya.  It knew to give us stalwart knight Brienne.  It gave us the pirate queen and the dragon queen and the Sansa getting revenge after revenge upon all the men who’d wronged her, and far more besides, and it talked big about breaking chains and how much men fucked things up and how great it would be if only women were in charge and et cetera et cetera.  And it’s, in fact, all actually really good that it had those things.  And because there were so very many moving parts of this story, it was super easy to look at those certain moving parts and think, yeah, they’ve done it!  They done good!

And it’s easy to forget and forgive -- to want to forget and forgive -- all the dead prostitutes that were on this show and the rapes used as motivation and fridgings and objectifications and the...y’know, whatever the hell Dorne was and Lady Stoneheart who? It’s easy to forget that this show actually played its hand a long time ago in regards to, like, what its relationship with feminism was going to be, and then kept playing the same hand again and again, to disappointing results.

Game of Thrones likes feminism.  It wanted to be feminist.  But its relationship with feminism was still predicated on some of the same old narratives and the same old storytelling trends that have disempowered female characters in the past, and so any progressive ideas it might have about women in its setting were nonetheless going to be constrained by those old fetters. As a result, its portrayal of women varied anywhere from glorious to admirable to predictable to downright cringeworthy.

New ideas require new vessels, new stories, in which to house them.  And for Game of Thrones, the ultimate story that it wanted to tell -- the ultimate driving force and thesis statement around which it was basing its entire journey and narrative -- was unfortunately a very old one, and one very familiar to the genre.

“Powerful women are scary.”

(Yes, I’m obviously making Yet Another Daenerys Essay On The Internet here)

So we have this character, this girl really, a slave girl who was sold and abused, and then she overcomes that abuse to gain power, she gains dragons, and she uses that power to fight slavery.  She fights slavery really well, like, she’s super hella good at it.  Her command of dragons is the most overt portrayal of “superpowers” in this world; she is the single most powerful person in this story, more powerful than any other character and the contest is not close.

But then...something really bad happens and oops, she gets really emotional about it and then she’s not fighting slavery anymore...she’s kinda doing the opposite!  This girl who was once a hero and a liberator of slaves instead becomes an out-of-control scary Mad Queen who kills a ton of innocent people and has to be taken down by our true heroes for the good of the world.

That’s the theme.  That’s the takeaway here.  That’s how it all ends, with one of the most primitive, archaic propaganda ever spread by writers, that women with power are frightening, they are crazy, they will use that power for ill.  Women with power are witches.  They are Amazons.  They will lop off our manhoods and make slaves of us.  They seduce our rightful kings and send our kingdoms to ruin.   They cannot control their emotions. They get hot flashes and start wars.  They turn into Dark Phoenixes and eat suns.  They are robot revolutionaries who will end humanity.  Powerful women are scary.

And let me emphasize that the theme here is not, in fact, that all power corrupts, because the whole Mad Queen concept for Daenerys actually ends up failing one of the more fundamental litmus tests available when it comes to representation of any kind: “would this story still happen if Dany was a man?” And the fact is that it would not.   And indeed we know this for a fact because “protagonist starts out virtuous, gains power in spite of the hardships set against him, gets corrupted by that power, and ends up being the bad guy” didn’t happen, and doesn’t happen, to the guys in the very same story that we’re examining.  It doesn’t happen to Jon Snow, Dany’s closest and most intentional narrative parallel.  It doesn’t happen to Bran Stark, a character whose entire journey is about how he embroils himself in wild dark winter magic beyond anyone’s understanding and loses his humanity in the process.  In fact, the only other character who ever got hinted of going “dark” because of the power that they’re obtaining is Arya, the girl who spent seven seasons training to fight, to become powerful, to circumvent the gender role she was saddled with in this world...and then being told at the end of her story, “Whoa hey slow down be careful there, you wouldn’t wanna get all emotional and become a bad person now wouldja?” by a man.

(meanwhile Sansa’s just sitting off in the side pouting or whatever ‘cuz her main arc this season was to, like, be annoyed at people really hard I guess)

‘Cuz that’s the danger with the girls and not the boys, ain’t it?  Arya and Jon are both great at killing people, but there is no Dark Jon story while we have to take extra special care to watch for Arya’s precious fragile humanity.  Dany has the power of dragons while Bran has the power of the old gods, but we will not find Dark Lord Bran, Soulless Scourge of Westeros, onscreen no matter how much sense it should make. “Power corrupts” is literally not a trend that afflicts male heroes on the same level that it afflicts female heroes.

Oh sure, there are corrupt male characters everywhere, tyrants and warlords and mafia bosses and drug dealers and so forth all over your TVs, and not even necessarily portrayed as outright villains; anti-heroes are nothing new.  But we’re talking about the hero hero here; the Harry Potters, the Luke Skywalkers, the Peter Parkers.  The Jon Snows.   They interact with corruptive power, yes; it’s an important aspect of their journeys.  But the key here being that male heroes would overcome that corruption and come through the other side better off for it.  They get to come away even more admirable for the power that they have in a way that is generally not afforded towards female heroes.

There are exceptions, of course; no trends are absolutely absolute one way or the other. For instance, the closest male parallel you’d find for the “being powerful is dangerous and will corrupt your noble heroic intentions” trope in popular media would be the character of Anakin Skywalker in the Star Wars prequel trilogy...ie, a preexisting character from a preexisting story where he was conceived as the villainous foil for the heroes.  Like, Anakin being a poor but kindhearted slave who eventually becomes seduced by the dark side certainly matches Dany’s arc, but it wasn’t the character’s original story and role.  And even then?...notice how Anakin as Vader the Dark Lord gets treated with the veneer of being “badass” and “cool” by the masses.  A male character with too much power -- even if it’s dark power, even if it’s corruptive -- has the range to be seen as something appealingly formidable, and not just as an obstacle that has to be dealt with or a cautionary tale to be pitied.

And in one of the few times that this trope was played completely straight, completely unironically with a male hero -- I’m thinking specifically of Hal Jordan the Green Lantern, of “Ryan Reynolds played him in the movie” fame -- the fans went berserk.  They could not let it go.  The fact that this character would go mad with power because a tragedy happened in his life was completely unacceptable, the story gained notoriety as a bad decision by clueless writers, and today the story in question has been retconned -- retroactively erased from continuity -- so that the character can be made heroic and virtuous again.  That’s how big a deal it was when a male hero with the tiniest bit of a fan following goes off the deep end.

To be clear, I’m not here to quibble over whether the story of Dany turning evil was good or bad, because we all know that’s going to be the de facto defense for this situation: “But she had to go mad!  It was for the sake of the story!“ as if the writers simply had no choice, they were helpless to the whims of the all-powerful Story God which dictates everything they write, and the most prominent female character of their series simply had to go bonkers and murder a bajillion babies and then get killed by her boyfriend or else the story just wouldn’t be good, y’know?  Ultimately though, that’s not what I’m arguing here, because it doesn’t actually matter.  There have been shitty stories about powerful women being bad.  There have been impressive stories about powerful women being bad.  Either way, the fact that people can’t seem to stop telling stories about powerful women being bad is a problem in and of itself.  Daenarys’ descent into Final Boss-dom could’ve been the most riveting, breathtaking, masterfully-written pieces of art ever and it’d still be just another instance of a female hero being unable to handle her power in a big long list of instances of this shitty trope.  The trope itself doesn’t become unshitty just because you write it well.

It all ultimately boils down to the very different ways that men and women -- that male heroes and female heroes -- continue to be portrayed in stories, and particularly in genre media.  In TV, we got Dany, and then we also have Dolores Abernathy in Westworld who was a gentle android that was abused and victimized for her entire existence, who shakes off the shackles of her programming to lead her race in revolution against their abusers...and then promptly becomes a ruthless maniac who ends up lobotomizing the love of her life and ends the season by voluntarily keeping a male android around to check her cruel impulses.  Comic book characters like Jean Grey and Wanda Maximoff are two of the most powerful people in their universe but are always, in-universe, made to feel guilty about their power and, non-diegetically, writers are always finding ways to disempower them because obviously they can’t be trusted with that much power and entire multiple sagas have been written about just how bad an idea it is for them to be so powerful because it’ll totally drive them crazy and cause them to kill everyone, obviously.  Meanwhile, a male comic character like Dr. Strange -- who can canonically destroy a planet by speaking Latin really hard -- or Black Bolt -- who can destroy a planet by speaking anything really hard -- will be just sitting there, two feet on the side, enjoying some tea and running the world or whatever because a male character having untold uninhibited power at his disposal is just accepted and laudable and gets him on those listicles where he fights Goku and stuff.

In my finite perspective, the sort of female heroes who have gained...not universal esteem, perhaps, but at least general benign acceptance amongst the genre community are characters who just don’t deal with all that stuff.  I’m thinking of recent superheroes like Wonder Woman and Captain Marvel, certainly, but also of surprise breakout hits like Stranger Things’ Eleven (so far) or even more niche characters like Sailor Moon or She-Ra.  The fact that these characters wield massive power is simply accepted as an unequivocal good thing, their power makes them powerful and impressive and that’s the end of the story, thanks for asking.  And when they deal with the inevitable tragedy that shakes their worldview to the core, or the inevitable villain trying to twist them into darkness, they tend to overcome that temptation and come out the other side even stronger than when they started.  In other words?...characters like these are being allowed the exact same sorts of narrative luxuries that are usually only afforded towards male heroes.

The thing about these characters, though, is that they tend to be...well, a little bit too heroic, right?  A lil’ bit too goody-two-shoes?  A bit too stalwart, a bit too incorruptible?  And that’s fine, there’s certainly nothing wrong with a traditionally-heroic white knight of a hero.  But what I might like to see, as the next step going forward, is for female heroes to be allowed a bit more range than just that, so that they’re not just innocent children or literal princesses or shining demigods clad in primary colors.  Let’s have an all-powerful female hero be...well, the easiest way to say it is let’s see her allowed to be bitchier.  Less straightlaced.  Let’s not put an ultimatum on her power, like “Oh sure you can be powerful, but only if you’re super duper nice about it.” Let us have a ruthless woman, but not one ruled by ruthlessness.  Let us have a hero who naturally makes enemies and not friends, who has to work hard to gain allies because her personality doesn’t sparkle and gleam.  Let her have the righteous anger of a lifelong slave, and let that anger be her salvation instead of her downfall.

In other words, let us have Daenerys Targaryen.  And let us put her in a new story instead of an old one.

[papermoonloveslucy]

EQUAL PARTS TALENT & HARD WORK

December 26, 1965

Below is a verbatim reprint an article by Edgar Penton based on his interview with Lucille Ball. Bolded and italicized text indicates quotes from Ball.  The publication may vary by newspaper.  The above illustration was by Robert Thompson. 

During a recent discussion between a television producer and a network program executive on the problem of casting a top role for a big television variety special, the latter remarked, "If we could just get somebody like Lucille Ball we'd be in clover." 

The producer mulled that statement over for all of one second and said, "There is only one Lucille Ball, and if you can't get Lucy there's no such thing as somebody like her." 

That statement comes pretty close to a capsule explanation of Miss Ball's unparalleled success as a star in all phases of the entertainment business. 

Of course, Lucy's career can't be embraced with a single anecdote, but it serves to underscore the fact that there really IS only one Lucille Ball. 

From that landmark evening, Oct. 15, 1951, when CBS launched a new comedy series called "I Love Lucy," to the present, Lucille Ball has never left the hearts and screens of the nation's television viewers. 

The vivacious and irrepressible comedienne enjoys the distinction of being the only star to score twice in a hit television series her latest, of course, the current “The Lucy Show” still on CBS, Monday evenings. 

To evaluate the success of a Lucille Ball, however, a person must go beyond the popularity of a television show. Let's take a look at Lucy, herself, and then perhaps we can understand something about the talent that creates so many memorable moments of entertainment. 

Lucy (hardly anyone calls her Lucille, except her mother) candidly attributes her success to hard work. As a matter of fact, that's the advice she gives to all newcomers who ask her how to make the grade -in show business. 

"I know it sounds rather easy and simple to tell an eager youngster to get out and work hard," Lucy explains, "and they get a lot of advice like that from parents. But show business is no different than any other business.” 

"If you want to reach the top, you've got to start somewhere near the bottom. Learn to be a good listener and remember what you learn.” 

"Of course, luck sometimes plays a part in everyone's career, but you can't rely on it. Even if fortune did place you in an advantageous position would you be prepared to deliver? I like busy people who know their capabilities and utilize them at the proper time.”

"It may only be part of the overall goal, but there's nothing wrong in having a series of goals, and realizing one at a time.”

"It's great for the confidence, and will win you respect and recognition at a time when you least expect it." 

Miss Ball says she considers it necessary for an aspiring performer to be able to communicate with others, exchange ideas and philosophies, develop a sense of values, and not to expect what you don't deserve.

"When I was a youngster my family taught me that you get out of life what you put into it," Lucy says. 

"By the time a lot of people learn the soundness of that philosophy, they find it's too late to retreat to a sensible position, and spend much of their lives trying to overcome ill - conceived notions about what life owes them.” 

"Faith in yourself and your ambitions doesn't necessarily mean you have to put aside all the graces in your race for success. Yet I say you can afford to be a little selfish as you progress.”

"But I don't mean 'selfish' in a negative sense. For example, be selfish about your time. Don't waste it. Don’t let a party or a good time dilute your effectiveness on the job. Don't try to do too many things to the point of not being able to do a few things well." 

Lucy says that during her early years she felt a great insecurity about her own ambitions. She thought her personality was flat, that she had no poise; after losing half-a-dozen jobs . she was just about ready to give up show business. 

"I felt down, but not quite out," Lucy recalls. "Even when a New York drama coach told me but kindly ; that I was not cut out for the entertainment world, something within me wouldn't quit. I took other jobs, in, around and near the theater.”

"I finally got a job as a model. I wasn't acting or performing in a true sense, but I gained confidence and I haven't stopped working since." 

Few would argue the point that Lucy is one of the hardest working gals in show business, but it should also be recalled that the spirited redhead from Jamestown, N.Y. brought a little item into the entertainment marketplace called talent. 

Over the years she has managed to shape her endowments into what today is regarded as one of the great comedic talents of our time.

Her ability to grasp a situation or scene and transform it into riotous fun is one of the many reasons why her appearance is sheer joy to watch. And she has also developed a remarkable ability to do startling, realistic impressions of other personalities. 

Tribute to Lucy's rare and wonderful versatility as a comedienne comes from every writer who has had the opportunity to pen a scene or create a characterization for any of Miss Ball's adventures before the cameras. 

Her long-time writers on “I Love Lucy,” Bob Carroll Jr., and Madelyn Martin, Bob Schiller and Bob Weiskopf, who came back to launch Lucy's return to television on “The Lucy Show,” admit they create some almost impossible situations for Lucy. 

But they have never been able to stump the adept Miss Ball, who didn't mind one bit swinging from a chandelier, going up with a balloon or flying like Peter Pan.

Milt Josefsberg, principal writer on the current Lucy Show, says that he no longer has misgivings about whether Lucy is capable of meeting demands of certain scripts. 

"Since I've been on the show, Lucy has wrestled a bear, played with a porpoise and single-handedly wrecked an entire motion picture set. Yet when she is earthbound, she's peerless when it comes to timing and delivery.” 

Today, Miss Ball is the president of Desilu Productions, largest television film producing facility in the world. She is the mother of two talented youngsters (Lucie, 14, and Desi Jr., 12, children of her marriage to Desi Arnaz), and the wife of comedian Gary Morton (they just celebrated their fourth anniversary). 

She just completed a season of radio on CBS (”Let's Talk to Lucy”), took time out to star in two one-hour television specials, completed a year as national chairman of the Easter Seal Campaign, and is talking about plans for next year.

Like Lucy said, it takes hard work. 

Although the text of the article was basically the same in all newspapers (sometimes edited for length), syndicated columns would often feature different headlines, photos and other enhancements.  This is the headline and photo collage of the same Edgar Penton article in another newspaper. 

On the same date, Chicago television editor Larry Walters retired after 36 years and counted Lucille Ball as one of his most memorable performers. 

On December 26, 1965, the Miami News reported that Vivian Vance was returning to the Coconut Grove Playhouse to perform in the Neil Simon play Barefoot in the Park. In August 1965, co-star Darryl Hickman and Vance had appeared on the TV game show “Call My Bluff” together. 

The day after these articles hit newspapers, a new episode of “The Lucy Show” premiered titled “Lucy Discovers Wayne Newton” (TLS S4;E14).   

[noonymoon]

JUSTICE FOR JESUS — Misconceptions & Prejudices about the Faith in the Biblical Jesus Christ.

PART TWO: But why are Judaism and Christianity extremely different from one another, if they worship the same God?

The short answer is: Satan has infiltrated Christianity around 300 A.D. and turned it into something ENTIRELY else than God said, and Judaism developed to be an extremely religious system with 48942084 rules on top of the rules that YHWH originally established for Israel - like the food laws (which according to modern Science are for a very good reason and me personally, I try to eat as „kosher“ as I can as well because I know God doesn‘t say ANYTHING just to show His dominance, He ALWAYS has 100% good reason to say things and usually all these things are in OUR best interest). Also, at some point Judaism had all the oral traditions of the Rabbis, and the Kabbalah, which is 100% mysticism and magic, when God makes abundantly clear from the VERY beginning that He HATES sorcery, witchcraft, divination, all kinds of occult secrets and arts; and He has all reason to do that. Which you will probably only understand if you watch this video series

I‘m going to adress „Christian Witches“ and „Christian Mystics“ for a second directly and I pray you would listen and REPENT because God makes it abundantly clear that you can not serve two Masters, there‘s no way you can be God‘s child and dabble in occult practices. The Bible says very clearly that everyone gets judged according to their knowledge. So, knowing the Truth about God and Jesus, you still decided to turn your back on Him and mock Him and His Truth („Be not deceived; God is not mocked: for whatsoever a man soweth, that shall he also reap.“ — Galatians 6:7) - I really don‘t want to be in your shoes when Judgment Day comes. I understand that you have been hurt by the institutional church, that you needed „more“ than „this“ and that you thought Occultism would make you more „spiritual“ and more „fulfilled“; thousands of Christians have been hurt by the church and dabble in the New Age. But there‘s NO WAY that God will forgive you for being a CHRISTIAN WITCH. It‘s. Not. Possible.

The longer answer is: From the moment Jesus was crucified and was raised to life again by his Father, the Devil knew that he has literally NO POWER anymore. Satan has held humanity in chains since practically the beginning of time, because he had the keys to Sheol since Adam and Eve fell into a linear existence in Eden and would ultimately die, and every single descendant of them (to be more specific it is the Father who bequeathes the spiritual nature of a human, that‘s the whole point of Jesus having a human virgin mother and God Himself as His Father) would be under the curse of death, and when people are afraid to die someday, well, they do all kinds of ridiculous things. The only way Satan can accomplish his goals (of ruining every single person on the planet) is to discredit, confuse and alter the work that Jesus finished on Golgotha. So basically, He can‘t change that it‘s all done, but he can change the way we perceive Jesus; he can change the way we collectively think, behave, feel, act - to take us away from God and His Truth as far as possible; he can change the way how humans „interpret“ God and Jesus and what has been done for us, he can basically distort EVERYTHING, except the fact that it is DONE. He KNOWS there‘s not much time left for Him - because Satan is a diligent student of Bible prophecy and uses literally EVERY flawed translation, every piece that could slightly be misunderstood and develops WHOLE doctrines and denominations and cults of them; in some few cases he even managed to alter the text of the Bible entirely to create a doctrine, today the CORE doctrine of Christianity - without it, you can‘t be a pastor or preacher without getting extreme backlash and will be considered a Heretic or cult leader, and that „you would lead people astray“, and this doctrine will steal your salvation and 90% of all Christians don‘t even notice it, it‘s just so sad. And when you speak up against this doctrine, the Holy Christians suddenly become nasty and call you a Heretic, like? Yes, of course that is God‘s Holy Spirit dwelling within you, and not that counterfeit one from Satan (because Satan can disguise as an angel of Light if he needs to, he once WAS the most beautiful and glorious Angel in Heaven, but his pride and arrogance ruined his heart. So basically, YES, Lucifer‘s/Satan‘s powers are VERY real and VERY powerful, but he will NEVER be as amazing as Jesus, and he most certainly will NEVER be as amazing as God, who created him!)

Basically, when Satan knew that the brilliant plan of Salvation was accomplished when Jesus was raised alive again after His crucifixion, he tried his first attack: relentless persecution of the Apostolic Church from 31 A.D. until ~320 A.D. through both the Jews and the Romans. But Christianity EXPLODED to that time, because the Gospel was pure, the Apostles and Disciples were extremely effective and the body of believers was just amazing. Then, Satan noticed that the message of Salvation in Jesus spread so hard that there was no point in persecuting every single Christian, so his new strategy was to infiltrate it and morph it from within.

“From the first moment of his accession declaring himself the protector of the church...the first emperor who publicly professed and established the Christian religion...rendered Christianity the reigning religion of the Roman empire” The Decline and Fall of the Roman Empire, Edward Gibbon, Vol 2 Chap 16, pg 138.

This was no other than the Roman Emperor Constantine who professed to be converted to Christianity in 323 A.D. himself, but his belief at best was a blend of paganism and Christianity for political purposes, to keep unity in his empire. This change of events was the reason why pagan and occult practices, traditions and beliefs from Ancient Babylon could infiltrate the true Gospel of Salvation, and sadly it‘s been like that EVER SINCE.

So basically, there‘s no reason at all why Christianity and Judaism should be THIS much of a difference. The faith should be the exact same with the only (major) difference, that one group accepts Jesus, the Son of God, and gains everlasting Life and the other group refuses to accept Jesus, and will not. But both groups have developed into something that God absolutely never wished for. Christians always feel like they are so high and mighty and yet they have NO IDEA that they will not make it to Heaven themselves, because they ALL teach, believe and practice doctrines and traditions (of men) that have NOTHING to do with the God of Israel and mock Him without even knowing it. God says in the Bible that people who diligently SEEK Him and who don‘t fall for man-made doctrines and traditions, THOSE people who overcome the world and overcome THINGS OF THIS WORLD with the magnificent power of Christ, will have Everlasting Life.

Satan raised up his own „Christian“ church through pagan Rome and when he made it big and strong enough, he went back to his first strategy: relentless persecution and execution of true Bible-believing Christians, which we all know as the years of Papal Supremacy or „the Dark Ages“ from 538 A.D. to 1798. And why was it dark? Because there was no spiritual light in the world: The Papacy has managed to destroy all of the ~500 different language translations of the Bible in that time, the common people had no access to the Word of God and the only language the Bible was available in was Latin, and most people could not read Latin. This was a truly dark time for humanity and believers in God. And then, thank God, the protestant Reformation started, the Bible got translated for the common people again, preachers stood up for the Truth of God‘s word, risked their own lives for spreading the true Gospel, got rid of a lot of the terrible blasphemy in those days, millions of true Bible-believing Christians got burned alive as Heretics and Witches, only because they wouldn‘t bow down to the Papal Church. 

Sadly, they as well, adopted an essential doctrine from the Roman Catholic Church and so now today, only people who are not indoctrinated by Religion and discover God, Jesus and the Bible for themselves, without Church, Pastors and Creeds, have the Truth of God. I remember at the beginning of my walk with Jesus, I‘ve thought I need to find a church congregation and attend church every Sunday and so I‘ve tried it once. My local Church is a VERY beautiful church on the inside and I was moved to tears just being there, but as soon as I listened to the sermon, felt the atmosphere and saw the other people in there, i just KNEW in my spirit that God is not present at ALL. It was very disappointing and so I never went to church again. Ever since then, I‘ve learned A TON and know exactly why I had felt this way. God truly is not in the institutional Church - how could He, when all churches belong to Satan?

Up until this day the Papacy, who claims to be the Mother of ALL churches, even the protestant and evangelical ones, says things like: „Let Judaizers be anathema!“ which means that people who practice Jewish traditions rather than Catholic traditions should be accursed (!) as if the Jesus that walked the Earth 2000 years ago was a Roman European and NOT A JEW, like..????. It‘s just bewildering what Satan has accomplished to make people stray away from God and His Son.

In case you ever wondered why „Christian“ Holidays, rituals and beliefs are so similar to the ones of Pagans, why monumental church buildings have been planted on ancient sacred pagan sites, why Christianity seems like a „high and holy“ version of Paganism - it was NOT God, it was NOT Jesus, it was NOT even the Bible, simply said: it was the Roman Catholic Church (Satan) and no one else. 98% of all things that Catholicism believes, teaches AND REQUIRES is absolute blasphemy when you take God‘s Word as the highest authority (which the Scriptures says we SHOULD do, lest we be deceived, nothing will ever contradict the Bible that is true and of God) yet Catholicism is the largest, most influental and most powerful Church; how? Because the Papacy developed something that is called „Papal Infallibility“ which enables them to literally be the scum of the Earth (if you think that I am being rude, please read the following picture carefully) without facing any repercussions!

Maybe it becomes more clear now why Christianity is utterly misunderstood, hated and judged. It was not Jesus Christ, it was „MYSTERY, BABYLON THE GREAT, THE MOTHER OF HARLOTS AND ABOMINATIONS OF THE EARTH.“ — Revelation 17:5 .... and Christians today get confronted with, for example, the Crusades and how Christianity is the worst Religion in the world and they don’t even know how to answer because they never cared to investigate their own Faith! Every evil deed that has ever happened within “Christianity” was, in fact, the Roman Catholic Papal Church who belongs to Satan himself.

According to an Ex-Jesuit (special order of Roman Catholic Priests) whose whistleblowing testimony I‘ve posted a few posts back, the Opus Deii (who disguise themselves as „Christian Democracy“ like my country pretends to be) is an arm of the Jesuit Infiltration that is responsible for the Illuminati, the Masons, the New Age Movement, the Trilateral Commission, the Club of Rome, and many more; and all of them serve just one purpose: The total control and world domination of the Roman Catholic Church (Satan).

If you love Jesus and are a Catholic brother, PLEASE LEAVE IT BEHIND.

Thank God that He not only gave us our world, our existence, and his Son Jesus, but also the Bible, which tells us EXACTLY what is going to happen and who the Enemy is, when we make the effort to study, and keep Jesus close to our hearts.

It grieves my heart that God and Jesus are so misunderstood because of Satan‘s works and that millions, the majority of all humans that ever lived and all humans that live right now, in these last days of humanity, are all deceived and will perish. And to any other generation in the past I would have said „well.. at least you had an entire human life experience, if it made you happy, then so be it“, but this generation right now, is the one that will regret their decision the most because every person under 60 will not even be close to having an entire human life experience, nor will it be happy. The worst thing is that which is going to manifest until ~2025 will not even be worth considered as a whole „human life experience“. If you think that Covid-1984 was a tough year, buckle up, because from now on it‘s going to get worse and worse. 

I know I say this a lot but today I cried on my way back from the supermarket because it‘s just so devastating to see Prophecy unfolding right in front of my eyes and everyone is VAST ASLEEP. People STILL wonder why it was possible that Hitler (who, by the way, was a Catholic, not a true Christian like he claimed, no wonder he was deeply wrapped up in the Occult) rose to power, how it was possible that we Germans didn‘t notice and didn‘t do anything to stop him from the evil things he did, why we gave him power and authority ... One word: Propaganda. Germans back then were absolutely brainwashed, just like today, WE are being brainwashed globally. And I can PROMISE you 100% that you WON‘T like where our world is heading and everyone will cry „but how could this happen?“ just like they cried about Hitler.

I pray that God‘s chosen people wake up in time, that these posts can help someone to find Christ, see through the deceptions of this world and be set free from Satan‘s bondage. Life is so much more than what we think it is, and honestly, if you‘re like me; always craved for deeper connections, more support and more honest affection in your social circles but never received it, always felt like an alien to everyone else, never had anyone to talk to about meaningful things because everyone was just shallow, then please just maybe consider Jesus as your best friend, because HE LOVES YOU and you will never ever be lonely ever again and you will always, always feel loved and „at home“. Jesus is literally the BEST thing that has ever happened to me, and I truly tried to be happy in this world. You have NO IDEA what I‘ve experienced in my 30 years, I‘ve literally experienced ALL OF IT, and nothing has ever given me peace and love and sanity. Only Jesus. I will never exchange that ever again for nothing! And I wish this experience to literally everyone because it‘s the most beautiful thing ever.

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Homosexuality Was My Identity

My Testimony for Jesus 2020- WEED, ALCOHOL, PORN, LUST, TOBACCO, PRETTY MUCH IT ALL! SET FREE!

[theheightofdishonor]

@asilhalawadi  I retyped it from memory. 

There’s a lot of things the Beyblade Metal Saga get wrong (do not get me started on how dirty they did Yu) but when they got it right, it was brilliant and the connection between Ryuga, Tsubasa, and Kyoya, is one of those things. 

So starting in Metal Fusion, these three are set against each other as Gingka’s rivals- I single them out specifically because these are the only rivalries that span the entire Saga. You’ve got Kyoya who starts out intimidating but is quickly established a reliable ally-no matter what he says on the contrary. There’s Tsubasa who you can’t quite get a read on until well into the third act of Fusion but ,eventually chooses a side and sticks to it. Then there’s Ryuga, the “big bad” who never chooses Gingka’s “side” even as Gingka saves his life, he’s a wild card and they often emphasize his untrustworthiness throughout the Saga.  Green, Purple and Red respectively. 

It’s easier to split this up and discuss the inner dynamics first so Imma start with Kyoya-Ryuga. Controversial opinion but these two are just slight variations on all the same characteristics;their personalities are centered around individuality, mistrust, arrogance, a lack of manners, and a specific honor code that they don’t like revealing- they’re mirrors.It’s interesting to note that their respective colours (the colour of their auras, Kyoya’s green and Ryuga’s Red) are complementary colours. On a colour wheel, Red is directly opposite from Green. Even as they go through the same things, they’re on different sides. In Fusion, they’re both manipulated by Doji and fight to truly develop their own personality but they’re pitted against each other. In Masters, their developments take place mostly off-screen, never meeting and in Fury, they’re once again major players on opposing sides. There is exactly two points in the series where these two collide (other than Ryuga’s death) 

The first is Battle Bladers. Their match in Battle Bladers is fundamental in understanding how their characters connect. Seriously watch it, it’s one of the best battles in the Saga. Ryuga begins by trashing the stadium before the battle begins, a move that Kyoya counters by destroying the stadium even more. It’s a statement of power as much as an intimidation tactic and neither backs down. Their battle continues the same way as they snark back at each other and exchange blows each with the force of a special move. It’s very “fight fire with fire”, “eye for an eye” and it works better than anyone would have thought.  Tsubasa may be the first person to ever withstand the Dark Move but Kyoya’s the first one Ryuga fully takes seriously. It’s a fascinating battle. Kyoya taunts Ryuga to force him to use his full strength and Ryuga complies-knowingly. (The implications of him temporarily pushing back the Dark Force just because Kyoya asked-I) Kyoya has full confidence that his taunts will work, he admits as much. Ryuga, for his part, verbally praises Kyoya for being the only person to ever push him this far. (Granted, the way he says it, it’s more of an insult but.) They’re so equal in power that the battle was actually up to toss before Ryuga got possessed. But the thing with fighting fire with fire is that it leads to a lot of people getting burned. Ryuga gets thoroughly possessed (and would likely have stayed that way if not for Gingka) and Kyoya is impaled by a demon spirit. (Remind me to speculate on Hikaru and Kyoya’s response to the Dark Power). It doesn’t end well for either of them- but they’re equals. 

In Metal Masters, they’re both demoted to secondary characters. They get lives outside of Gingka and don’t meet face to face until Metal Fury. Like I said, their arcs are parallel so it makes sense that the next time they battle toe to toe- they’re both on the verge of a series long personal conflict that has direct consequences on the fate of the world. This time, Ryuga is the self-assured one, he had an entire (mostly)Gingka-free season to sort out his issues and grow in power. Kyoya, on the other hand, isn’t even comfortable with his new bey yet and it’s almost depressing how quickly Ryuga wins that match. Ryuga even marks on it,  that although their beys may be equal in power, they themselves no longer are equals. Their maths are set into motion and that’s the last communication between the two of them.

Their individual conflicts in Fury are actually the same exact problem- stemming from the fact that they are both horrified at the thought of selflessness. They have to justify their actions as something that directly affects them and being tied down by caring about something else is one of the worst things imaginable.  By this meeting in Fury, Kyoya was a ticking bomb that had its roots all the way back to the beginning of Masters. In Fusion, they had become friends, but when Masters starts, Kyoya forces their relationship strictly back into rivals and does his bet to keep it that way. (I feel so bad for Gingka who literally gets nightmares about this moment) Even when he shows up to stop Ziggurat like some kind of guardian angel with impeccable timing - he’s quick to clarify that he’s not there for Gingka and only showed up because he thought Ryuga’s presence in the World Championships was suspicious. Like he’s right but ouch. It’s important to note that no one ever calls him out on this behavior where even as he helps and fights alongside them, he’s denying that he cares. I can’t even blame them for it because it wasn’t worth the effort. 

When Kyoya actively joins Gingka again in Fury to search for Legendary Bladers, he’s obviously uncomfortable  with the situation. I mean, there’s only so much you can pile under the justification of doing it to secure your rivalry. Let’s be real, that excuse barely worked even all the way back in Fusion when Kyoya joined forces with a couple of people he can’t stand to follow Gingka all the way to effing Koma Village. So him going batshit was inevitable, Aguma was just the spark. 

Ryuga is in the same boat, except when he professes to not care, it’s much more believable unless you take a good look at his actions. His help in defeating Ziggurat could be attributed to his canon reason of dealing with ghosts from his past. But that doesn’t explain why he practically forces Gingka to realize his bey’s power before his battle with Julian or him advising Tsubasa on overcoming the Dark Power and even making sure Tsubasa gets back to his team. When Fury starts, the audience has a reluctant hope that Ryuga will help- a thought that is promptly and swiftly crushed with a sledgehammer. You’re given a bit of hope again as we explore Ryuga and Kenta’s bonds and are barraged with scenes of Ryuga displaying consideration if not concern for the actual child following him around. But it’s not to be. In a scene that’s actually very similar to Ryuga’s OG battle with Kyoya, Doji taunts Ryuga who allows that taunt to influence his actions and again, it ends badly for him. Not only does he fully revive Nemesis, it ends up leading to his own death.

However, Ryuga does a 180 in death and his affection for Kenta/honour/guilt that this kid’s going to kill himself because he blames himself for your death brings Ryuga back to life (?) to hand the Star Fragment to Kenta. But it’s already too late and Zeus’s barrier doesn’t hold even with a replacement Summer constellation bey. His grand gesture, which is actually super emotional when you watch the entire thing, ends up doing nothing other than prolonging the battle. 

But, but, but. In that very last moment when all hope is gone and Pegasus is the only bey left spinning, Kyoya admits what he’s been denying for years- the effect Gingka has had on his life and that he cares for the guy. In a show of trust that Kyoya from even a couple days previous would never have done, Kyoya offers his bey spirit along with that of his precious Leon’s to Gingka. This, of course, prompts everyone else to do the same and Gingka defeats Nemesis and saves the world. But it wouldn’t have happened without Kyoya doing that. One lives, one dies. 

Now, Kyoya-Tsubasa. No worries, the rest of this is going to be significantly shorter. Green and Purple, both cool/secondary colours, are on the same side Despite this, Kyoya and Tsubasa kind of end up playing tag throughout the Saga. In Fusion, Kyoya’s the one at Gingka’s side until Doji switches the battle order in Battle Bladers and suddenly, tag, Tsubasa’s the one facing Ryuga. He loses, tag, Kyoya’s turn. In Masters, Tsubasa’s “tagged” and is now the one who travels with Gingka while Kyoya takes off and then there’s a brief pause for the Season Finale™. In Fury, Kyoya gets the star fragment, tag, he’s the one traveling with Gingka now and out of the two, Kyoya’s the one in the limelight for the rest of the season. 

On a superficial level, Kyoya and Tsubasa are opposites. Kyoya’s brash where Tsubasa is reserved. Kyoya clashes head on, Tsubasa keeps his cool. Yet, under the surface, they’re alike- moody, antisocial, and emotionally constipated. Jk, that part’s not til later. Really though, they’re pretty alike. Despite Kyoya’s abrasiveness, he’s almost always got some kind of plan in battle (even if they’re occasionally dumb things like let’s start a tornado which could potentially sweep away the helicopter that’s our ride out of here) and Tsubasa is no stranger to winging it -hacking the Dark Nebula without planning it beforehand, anyone?. Their differences balance the other person out. They’re almost foils in a manner.

With these two, Fusion is the place to be. (two pints of Sam Adams and I’m workin on three) Specifically, Tsubasa’s match with Ryuga and Kyoya’s attitude about it.That clip displays it better than I could explain. Tsubasa spends most of the actual battle avoiding El Drago- his plan is to draw out El Drago’s full strength and then attack when Ryuga’s at his weakest. (it makes more sense in the story) Everyone in the stadium is against this- the crowd is booing, even Gingka and the rest of their friends are unsure but Kyoya doesn’t lose faith for a second. He urges Tsubasa to not pay attention to the crowd-to trust his instincts and at that moment, he’s the only person that believes in Tsubasa. His faith is rewarded as Tsubasa becomes the first person to withstand the Dark Move. 

Despite having never battled each other, Tsubasa and Kyoya are established as equals in skill, power and intellect. And then the World Championships Qualifiers starts and along with it, Tsubasa and Kyoya’s one and only match.. The episode actually does most of the work for you by reflecting on these two, their skills and personalities. If you hadn’t thought of it already, you have now been spoonfed that Kyoya and Tsubasa are equals. The battle starts and them being equals is hammered in some more as they comment on how they know all of each other’s moves. But they don’t and Kyoya crushes him. Whether Kyoya would still have won if Tsubasa wasn’t possessed is up to debate. But the scales tip, nonetheless, and although Tsubasa overcomes the Dark Power, we’re not given a marker of any sort to tell if Tsubasa got stronger by the end. This is further complicated because in Fusion, Tsubasa never shows the extent of his power, so we don’t know if the Tsubasa that defeated the Dark Power is stronger than the Tsubasa before it. Either way, this battle marks the end of them as Tsubasa stagnates and Kyoya continues to grow stronger. 

Next is Tsubasa-Ryuga, also known as my shortest section because there is exactly one thing and one thing only that ties them together- the Dark Power. Initially there are two reasons because it’s Tsubasa’s job to spy on Ryuga but the Dark Power’s more important and they didn’t interact much because of that job, anyway. Although the weakest pairing in this triangle, they have the most significant meetings, a grand total of 4, 1 of which, notably, is not a battle. The first one occurs when Doji attempts to feed Tsubasa’s power to Ryuga once Tsubasa is revealed to be a spy. It ends in a draw because Phoenix saves him from imminent failure. The second one is the Battle Bladers Match-the one where a bit of the Dark Power latches on to Tsubasa’s soul. The third is in Metal Masters. Under instructions from the WBBA, Hyoma tracks down Ryuga who then finds Tsubasa and gives him advice on defeating the Dark Power (while destroying Excalibur for the hell of it) and safely delivers him to Gingka and co. It’s the weirdest episode- plays straight out of an alternative universe. In Fury, they meet for the last time in a completely random tournament while both are searching for Legendary Bladers. They battle, Ryuga wins and again, it’s straight out of an alternative universe because Ryuga’s almost cordial- at least compared to his usual version. Like if you look at his other battles, Ryuga in this clip can even be called nice. If you watch it, you’ll note the exact second Tsubasa determines that Ryuga’s crazy. It’s also got the line “The Dragon Emperor just is The Dragon Emperor” which cracks me up for no reason. Personally, I do think Ryuga’s a smidgen softer on Tsubasa because of the shared Dark Power thing but they don’t interact nearly enough to confirm it. 

(When I say last time, I do mean face to face confrontations, and not them just happening to be at the same place) 

Between the three of them, they’ve got this complicated push-pull dynamic despite very limited interaction between them. They’ve also got a long list in common; from personality traits:prickly, hard-working, skilled, smart, mistrustful/suspicious, pessimistic, confident if not overconfident, antisocial,  habits: most at home in the wild, unusually strong connections to their beys, and the weirdest of all; Yu who has idolized all three of them right around the time of their biggest self-crisis; Ryuga, Tsubasa and Kyoya in that order.

[bytheangell]

Beneath the Surface

(Read on AO3) (inspired by this beautiful art by jesssssah​ <3) 

Jace is with Alec the night everything goes wrong.

They’re on patrol with a small group of soldiers when they spot a mermaid child who pulled herself up on some flat rocks by the beach. She’s alone, looking up at the stars, lost in her thoughts and not paying attention to her surroundings. Jace watches what happens next play out in slow-motion, unable to stop it, as Victor takes his sword and silently approaches her from behind. He watches Alec hesitate just a moment before taking off after him, catching up quickly since he isn’t making any attempt to stay quiet or hide his approach. In fact, Alec shouts, “stop!” which startles Victor into pausing in surprise to look backward, buying Alec enough time to intercept Victor which allows the mermaid girl, suddenly aware of her attacker, time to slip back into the ocean and out of sight.

Except she isn’t alone like they thought. A woman appears in the water by the rocks, a woman with striking blue skin and a shock of white hair. They see her a moment too late to defend themselves against her retaliation and Victor falls, hit with her magic before she too flees beneath the water.

They rush to Victor who is unconscious but still breathing.

“You’re going to regret that, Lightwood,” Raj snarls. It isn’t an empty threat and they all know it.

Raj and the others take off ahead carrying Victor’s body between them, leaving Jace waiting to trail behind with Alec.

“I’m sorry,” Alec says. He isn’t sorry for saving the girl, Jace knows, but rather sorry for the inevitable fallout of it back home.

Jace takes his hand and gives it a gentle squeeze. “I know,” he reassures him, wondering if he would’ve stopped Alec if he saw it coming fast enough… if he would’ve let that mermaid girl die to spare his partner the hardships of whatever might happen next. “You did what you thought was right.”

Jace tries not to think about what Victor might do in retaliation. He tries not to be too upset with Alec for always putting others first at his own expense.

“If something happens to me-” Alec starts, but Jace cuts him off, unable to bear the thought.

“I won’t abandon you, don’t worry,” Jace promises.

“No,” Alec says quickly. “I know you support me. You don’t have to show it. Please, don’t show it. I don’t want them to come after you, too. I-” he hesitates.

“You don’t have to-” Jace starts, already knowing what Alec wants to say, what he feels. He’s always known, but saying it now, under these conditions, makes it feel heavy and final.

“I do. Just once. I love you, Jace.”

They’re words he’s always wanted to hear, but they feel tainted by the circumstances and the fear gripping his chest.

“I love you too,” Jace says.

The words fill the silence between them the rest of the walk back.

---

When Alec stands in defiance of the Council, speaking out in defense of the merfolk, Jace is both immeasurably proud and selfishly upset. It’s such a brave thing to do, and he admires Alec’s sense of what’s right and just as he opposes the laws that allow the merfolk to be hunted and killed without punishment under their classification as a second class species. It’s also a foolish thing to do because going against the Council is unheard of and Jace doesn’t want to see Alec punished for his insubordination.

Still, Alec stands tall and resolute, firm in his beliefs. Jace listens to him speak and knows that he’s going to change the world one day, and can’t wait to be by his side to support him every step of the way. He imagines the worst of Alec’s punishments to be unfavorable duties, perhaps a few physical lashings… he doesn’t expect to hear a decree that Alec is to be imprisoned for what is being deemed treason against the laws of their people.

Jace thought he knew pain, he thought he knew loss, but nothing compares to the way his entire chest constricts at the sight of Alec being lead to the holding chambers, heart full of dread at the idea of what they might do to him there.

Hands hold him back as Jace tries to fight his way through to the guards, to Alec, who turns to shake his head sadly at him as he’s ushered off. Alec’s words echo in his head. ‘I don’t want them to come after you, too.’ Jace stills and takes several steps back, watching helplessly as they usher Alec out of the room.

---

Rumors of Alec’s punishment reach Jace too late. To make an example of him for any who would stand against the Council, and especially any who would advocate for the Merfolk, an arrangement has been made for a curse to be placed upon Alec, turning him into one of the merfolk and leaving to spend the remainder of his days alone in the depths of the sea. It’s a fate many of their people would consider worse than death… but Alec isn’t like most of their people. Jace has to believe he can handle this. He’ll be fine. He has to be fine.

By the time he finds out where they’re going Alec is already on the ship and heading out to sea, and for the second time Jace is helpless to do anything but watch. When the ship returns some hours later Alec is no longer with them.

He doesn't know what to do with himself in Alec's absence. He tries to continue on, knowing that Alec would want him to stay, to live his life without regret or hesitation... but he can't. He can't bring himself to simply move on as if Alec never existed, as if he didn't just lose the most important part of his world.

It takes Jace a long time to find a witch who would be both willing and able to perform a spell as complicated as putting the same curse on him as the Council placed on Alec. It takes him even longer to save up enough to offer in payment. Picking up side-jobs as often as possible to make up the extra coin. he does whatever he can, whatever he has to, in order to make this work.

It's nearly six months after Alec's punishment was carried out when Jace stands with the witch on the edge of the shoreline.

"This cannot be reversed," she warns him, not for the first time. "It isn't too late to turn back. I would even return your payment in full."

Jace should take her obvious reluctance as a sign but he doesn't. He can't, not when he's so close to being able to reunite with Alec.

"You have what you asked for," Jace says resolutely. "Please, continue. I will not change my mind."

She hands Jace a potion, one that's nearly black in color, and only upon closer inspection turns out to be a deep, shimmering midnight blue. He takes the cork out and empties it into his mouth, making certain to swallow every last drop. It takes several minutes for the potion to take effect and when it does he feels a tingle begin around his hips, moving downward, his legs fusing together and covering in scales, shifting from human flesh to golden scales that gleam in the moonlight.

"Thank you," he says to her. "Truly."

She nods and leaves without another word, eager to be done with the whole business, taking her hefty payment with her.

Jace allows himself one last glance up the hill toward the village he once called home and the land and people he swore to serve and protect. Not anymore, though. His home left six months ago, and it's time for him to find it once again.

---

Jace is overwhelmed the moment he dives into the sea. The deeper he goes the darker it gets, and for some reason, he hadn't stopped to consider the sheer vastness of it all until this moment. He doesn't know where to begin, which way to turn... for all he knows Alec could've started to travel away the moment he left and is six months of swimming away by now.

For all he knows Alec may not even be alive.

Jace pushes the thought from his mind and urges the panic down as his body propels forward, slow and unsteady as he acclimates to the new way of moving.

He travels until he's too tired to continue, and then stops for a short rest. It feels strange to be so entirely unguarded - he hadn't thought to bring any weapons with him, the idea of wielding a blade underwater something he imagined wouldn't work very well. It takes a long time for his constant alertness to quiet enough to properly rest. He isn't sure how much sleep he gets before he wakes again, either - he dove down deep enough to block the worst of the morning sunlight from keeping him awake, but that means he hasn’t been paying mind to its passage above, either.

Not that time matters much anymore. He has nothing to wake up for, no schedule to keep, no duties to perform. His only drive is finding Alec, and he'll take as long as he must.

As luck would have it, it doesn't take long. Jace stumbles across a small group of merfolk entirely on accident, following the sounds of an unusual echo in the water to a small series of carved out rock formations that look like proper shelter. And that's when he sees her - the mermaid girl from the rocks.

She sees him and freezes, noting first the black ink markings on his arms and chest that tell her he's a foe, before then noticing the golden scales of his tail that mark him as one of the merfolk. Jace is so overcome with excitement over his first proper lead, someone who might have seen Alec or know which way he went, that he rushes toward her. Which, of course, scares her away and sends her darting off towards the caves.

Jace curses and follows behind, his size and inability to properly control his movements allowing her to get away. He's afraid he lost her entirely when an imposing figure armed with a spear emerges from the direction the girl vanished toward. Red magic crackles at the fingertips of his left hand, the one not holding the weapon, and his hair moves in fluid spikes above his head, holding form in a way that defies normal gravity. His eyes, yellow with slit pupils, narrow.

Jace freezes.

"What brings you here?" The merman demands. "Why do you attack my people?"

Jace notices the curious way his gaze lingers on Jace's tattooed markings.

"I don't - I didn't mean to scare her. The girl, right? I simply wanted to ask if she's seen someone. Someone else like me, with my markings," Jace says, his tone pleading. "I'm sorry," he adds, hoping it might help his case.

The Merman considers him for several very long moments. "Who is this person like you that you seek?"

"His name is Alec," Jace says quickly. "Dark hair, bright eyes... he was once human, but was turned into one of you," Jace says, then pauses. "One of us," he corrects quickly, because Jace is one of them now, for whatever that’s worth. "I need to find him."

"Why?"

Because I love him. Because without him my life is too empty to bear the thought of living.

"Because he means more to me than anyone else in the world," Jace settles on finally. "And I'm afraid it took me too long to find a way to reunite with him again. If you have any information at all I would be most grateful.”

The man considers him a moment longer before saying, “Wait here. Right here. Come any closer before I return and my guards won’t hesitate to kill you.”

Jace nods and waits. And waits. Until finally--

“Jace?!” Alec’s voice reaches him from below. Jace’s tears mingle with the water around him, an odd sensation he doesn’t have time to consider as Alec swims towards him in swift, practiced movements, wrapping his arms around Jace and sending them both spinning to the side with the force of the embrace. They hold each other tight, faces pressed against shoulders, laughter and quiet sobs of joy and relief and surprise filling the space around them.

The first merman follows close behind but hangs back just enough to give them space.

“I didn’t believe it when Magnus described you, I never thought-” Alec’s words cut off sharply. “How?” Alec asks instead of continuing that thought.

“I had the curse placed on me as well. I couldn’t stand to be apart from you, Alec,” Jace confesses, taking Alec’s hands in his own. “I don't want to live in a world without you in it.”

Jace senses the shift in Alec at those words, the way Alec tenses and looks back at the other merman, some unspoken communication passing between them in those glances.

“Bring him back,” the other man says finally.

“Magnus-” Alec starts, but the other man - Magnus - only smiles kindly.

“Please, Jace, come. I’m sure the two of you have much to discuss,” Magnus insists, already swimming back toward the caves.

Jace glances at Alec who nods, though Jace can see the nervousness behind the action as he takes Jace’s hand which is still clasped in his and leads him down to follow.

---

They do, in fact, have much to discuss. Starting with the fact that Alec and Magnus are engaged. Jace feels his heart shatter at the admission, one that Magnus has thankfully given them privacy to discuss.

“I never stopped loving you, Jace. I just never thought…” Alec sighs. “If I ever imagined I’d see you again you know I wouldn’t have-”

“I don’t blame you, Alec. I’m glad you’re happy,” Jace says, though he isn’t sure gladness is something he’ll ever properly feel again, not now. “You are, aren’t you? Happy?”

Alec seems well enough, and if the number of jewels adorning Magnus’ neck and fingers are any indication of his status, if nothing else Alec must be well off here with Magnus.

"I am," Alec admits, but the look on his face is troubled, guilty.

"If you're happy then quit looking so goddamn sad about it," Jace snaps. He doesn't mean to, he just doesn't know what else to say or do. He came here to find Alec. To be with Alec. And to find Alec in a serious relationship with someone else...

"I should go," Jace says suddenly. He tries not to think of the fact that he has nowhere to go, that he'll be entirely alone once he leaves, that he gave up everything to-

"Don't," Alec says. "Stay. Please?"

Jace hesitates.

"We'll figure something out. I promise. I don't want to lose you again, Jace. I can’t." Alec says, and Jace knows the feeling. As much as the idea of watching Alec with someone else hurts, the idea of losing him entirely for a second time hurts more, so Jace nods, and he stays.

---

Things between the three of them are odd at best, and strained at worst. It's obvious that none of them know where they fit now that Jace is in the picture. Part of Alec's heart belongs to both of them, and they all know it, which leaves Jace and Magnus teetering between a need to get along because they know it upsets Alec when they don't, and a need to compete to be the one most in Alec's favor at any given moment. But Alec and Magnus kiss, share lingering touches, they likely do much more than that in the bed they share while Jace stays in a spare room that, Jace suspects, is farther away than strictly necessary. Jace hasn't so much as held Alec's hand again since their reunion - he knows he's the outsider and it doesn't matter that he's known Alec the longest, so he begins to back off before withdrawing entirely.

Surprisingly, it's Magnus who approaches Jace about it first.

"Move in with us," Magnus offers.

"What?" Jace asks, sure he heard wrong.

"Move in with us. There's plenty of space, and I think we both know Alec would be happier if you were closer," Magnus points out.

"And what about you?" Jace asks.

"I'm not unhappy when you're around," Magnus says, a coy smile on his face. "I think I could even grow to like you if we made a proper go of it."

Jace hesitates. He thinks he's reading into Magnus' suggestion but he isn't certain, and this he needs to be certain about. "When you say like me, do you mean..."

"I mean romantically, yes. Pulling Alec in two different directions isn't going to work forever, and he's too kind to ever suggest anything else. But I think it'd serve us all to... cohabitate properly, don't you? I think we both love him enough to try, at least I know I do."

Jace knows what Magnus is doing but takes the bait anyway because it's true.

"I do, too," he agrees. "But what if Alec doesn't want to?"

"What if Alec doesn't want to what?" Says a quiet voice that catches them both by surprise as Alec approaches from around the corner.

"I regret giving you those stealth gliding lessons," Magnus mutters.

"Is everything alright?" Alec questions, glancing between the two of them anxiously.

"Everything is just fine, darling," Magnus reassures him. "How would you feel about Jace moving in?"

If Jace had any doubts before, the way Alec's entire face lights up at the prospect wipes them away immediately.

“You mean it?” Alec asks, unable to keep the hope from his tone. “You’re both sure?”

"Of course I do," Magnus says, then glances at Jace. “And we are.”

"We are," Jace agrees as if he and Magnus are best friends entirely on the same page now rather than two people who stopped viewing one another as lowkey enemies a mere five minutes ago. “As long as it’s what you want.”

"It sounds perfect," Alec beams, moving forward to tug Jace in closer to Magnus so he can wrap them both in a tight embrace at once.

--

It isn't perfect, not at first. It takes a few weeks for the three of them to be comfortable around each other, to feel out boundaries and limits. It's easier for Jace to be with Magnus while Alec is around, but the more they're left alone with one another the more they talk and the faster they begin to connect. They both care for Alec, an obvious starting point, but it turns out they have much more in common than just that. Magnus can keep up with Jace's sarcasm quip for quip and both of them have more than a few issues with their fathers to bond over. They find that after they stop looking at one another as potential competition they actually get along surprisingly well. If Jace could get past the mental hold-up that Magnus is Alec’s, he might find it easier to admit that he can see what Alec loves about him, because Jace finds himself falling for all the same things.

The first time Jace and Magnus kiss is one early morning when Jace passes by Magnus' open door to find him struggling with the clasp of a necklace.

"Here, let me,'' Jace offers, situating it into place to snap the clasp shut, settling it gently around Magnus' neck. His eyes linger there for just a moment before he impulsively leans forward to bring his lips down to place a kiss where Magnus' neck meets his shoulder, right where the necklace rests. It's tentative, a test almost, and when Magnus doesn't move he places another just above that, then another on the side of Magnus' jaw, before Magnus turns his head to catch Jace's lips against his own. It's nice. Jace is surprised by how soft Magnus' lips are, and how smooth his skin is as Magnus’ hand reaches up to cup the side of Jace's face.

Jace pulls away first, a look of mild shock sprawled across his face.

"Are you alright?" Magnus asks.

"Yeah," Jace admits, but his voice is quiet while his mind processes what just happened.

"And you aren't only doing this because you think I expect you to?" Mangus continues.

"No. I wanted to. I've wanted to for a while if I'm being honest. Is... is that alright?" Jace knows this is the agreement, that this is what they've been working towards all these weeks, but he still feels like he has to make sure.

"It's more than alright, Jace," Magnus says, and Jace can barely return the kiss Magnus pulls him into for how wide he's smiling.

---

After that things start to fall into place. The three of them work surprisingly well: Magnus and Jace remind Alec how much he's loved when he's down on himself; Magnus and Alec remind Jace that his place in their relationship is as an equal, not just someone they 'let in'; and Alec and Jace put all their effort and attention into knowing Magnus as well as they know each other from their years on land.

It's great, and most of the time it feels as close to perfect as Jace imagines anything in his life will ever feel. But that doesn't mean there aren't bad days. It's on one of those days he quietly slips out while no one is paying attention and goes for a swim.

He doesn't think anyone noticed him slipping out, nor does he expect them to notice him missing and find him later. This is far from the first time he’s done this. Whenever Jace feels overwhelmed, or angry in that way where talking won't help and he just needs time to cool off, he always goes to the same small stretch of plain situated behind a seamount, giving it a private, secluded feeling while still being open. Sometimes his soldier instincts make the caves and reefs feel too claustrophobic, but this place is perfect.

Jace is humming a bit of a song to himself with his eyes closed, the notes ending abruptly when he hears the sound of someone approaching.

"Want to talk about it?" Magnus asks. Jace wonders when Magnus realized taking a subtle approach to asking him questions rarely works.

"Talk about what?" Jace attempts to brush the concern off.

"I know you come here when you're upset. Alec normally swings by to check on you without letting you know," Magnus adds when he sees the surprise on Jace's face at this not being as much of a secret as he obviously thought it was. "He knows you come here to be alone but you know how he worries.” Jace does. In fact, he even feels a little better knowing Alec secretly checks in on him, and the thought brings him comfort.

Magnus continues. “But you've been here much longer than usual today. You don't have to talk, of course, but you can. If you want to."

Magnus lingers but doesn't press further. Jace knows he'll leave if he asks, and he also knows he'll stand there in companionable silence, too. Today, though, Magnus is right - what he feels is a bit worse than usual, and maybe ignoring it isn't going to work this time.

"I know it's stupid, but sometimes I miss things from-" Jace almost says home, but realizes he hasn't thought of that place as home in quite some time and the word feels wrong. "-before," Jace settles on instead. "Whenever I was upset or needed to think things through, I'd play the piano. Sometimes I'd sit there for hours getting lost in the music..." Jace's words trail off, his thoughts lost in the memory for a moment.

"Is that what you were humming? Something you used to play?" Magnus asks.

"Yeah," Jace admits. "It isn't quite the same."

"No, I imagine not," Magnus muses.

---

The next few weeks pass and Jace doesn't think of it again, until one afternoon he hears the sound of music. It's one note at first, then another, tentative sounds as if whoever is playing them isn't sure what they're doing. Jace follows the sound of the music until he comes across Magnus, blue magic in his palms tinkering with the inner workings of a black harpsichord.

"Magnus?" Jace asks, coming up beside him.

"Surprise!" Magnus says, closing the top of the instrument.

"What's this for?"

"It's for you, obviously," Magnus says. "You said you missed playing. I thought it might help, you know, when you need it. And it'd be nice to hear you play. Alexander tells me you're wonderful."

Jace shakes his head. "Alec exaggerates."

"I do not," Alec says, coming up to join them. "I thought I heard actual notes playing, so you got it to work?" Alec aims the question at Magnus.

"You knew?" Jace accuses, unable to believe they both kept this a secret from him, but more than that, that they both went out of their way to even get this for him.

"I may have advised on the idea," Alec admits. "Go ahead, give it a try!"

Jace does, reaching his arms out to press down on a few of the keys, one at a time to start and then in chords, and then in sweeping scales. Alec sits himself on the top of the casing while Magnus lays himself down on his stomach next to Alec, both watching and listening, fully enraptured by Jace's playing as he attempts the opening lines of an old, classical piece.

It's such a simple thing, having this piano here, with Alec and Magnus listening to him play, but it means the world to Jace. To have people who care enough about him that they'd go out of their way to arrange this just for him... he's never had that before. He did with Alec before, in a way, but it was always secret. It was never like this, it could never be like this, not before. Jace wonders now if he and Alec were ever truly 'cursed'. After all, anything that brought them here, to each other and to Magnus, had to be more blessing than curse.

For the first time since the night Alec left, everything strained within him seems to settle, falling into place all at once. For the first time in his entire life, Jace feels entirely at peace, not just with himself but with his life, what he's doing with it, and the people in it.

This is it. This is what home feels like, he realizes. And now that he has it he's never going to let it go.

[wordsfromthesol]

Aren't You the Bad Guy? (3/3)

Author: @wordsfromthesol Pairing: Dick Grayson x Reader Summary: You are Lex Luthor’s secret daughter. Why does he keep you so hidden? Warnings: Language, suicidal thoughts, violence, blood Word Count:  2.6k Tag list: @ghost-brocolli A/N: The last part is kinda long...sorry not sorry guys. Also should I do more on this series? I’m not sure, let me know!

Part One   Part Two

Several weeks passed and you had finally gotten used to the dull pain constantly in the back of your mind. You began exercising and regaining your strength, and finally made the decision it was time to leave. These boys had grown attached to you, and you to them. Which is why you had to leave, you couldn’t put them at the mercy of Lex Luthor and you knew it was only a matter of time before your father had found you. You grabbed a backpack and began to pack your things. Now how do I get out of here without tipping those idiots off. You tracked the fire escape to…Dick’s room. Of course. You slowly open the door, hoping that he’s not there. No such luck.

Dick immediately notices your backpack and calls for his brother’s aid.

“What, do you guys just sleep in your coms?”

“Doesn’t hurt when we are on a mission.”

Right, a mission. You had to keep reminding yourself that that’s how they saw you, as a mission. “Well good news then, your mission is over. Congratulations.”

“Y/N, you know that’s not –” Jason, Tim, and Damian emerged in the doorway.

“Do not expect to be leaving so abruptly Y/N.” To your, and everyone’s surprise, Damian was the first to speak.

“Dami…didn’t think you cared so.” You put your hand to your chest as you made your way to the window. You stopped short when you heard something, what is that…wait. You knew that sound, you pushed Dick out of the way and slammed your fist into the glass. You didn’t have time to notice the shocked faces around you as you turned on your heel and proceeded to push them out the window. Just as you began to climb through yourself an explosion knocked you through the window and over the railing. Am I finally free? Is it finally over? Suddenly, you felt arms around your waist as you no longer fell, but instead glided through the air. A tear fell down your face, as you realized that this was not, in fact, the end. You looked up and saw Dick, sweatpants and t-shirt, and…grappling gun. He landed the two of you on a nearby rooftop, where Jason, Tim, and Damian were already waiting.

“Y/N, what the hell?” You held your hand up towards Jason, as you walked over and sat on the ledge, watching the building you were just in crumble to the ground. Once the building was reduced to rumble you stood up to face the boys behind you. Only you watched their eyes trail down to your hand. In all the commotion, you had forgotten that you had just punched through a window. You began to pick the glass from your hand when Dick quickly approached and swatted it down.

“We will deal with it at the Manor.” He mumbled as he discarded his shirt and wrapped your hand, creating a temporary sling. He grabbed you by the waist yet again, and jumped off the ledge, only to carefully lower the two of you to the ground. His brothers followed in suit.

“Let’s go, it’s a quite a walk.”

Tim reached out to stop his eldest brother. “I have plan –” his explanation was cut short as Alfred pulled a car up to the alley and ushered them into the car. The entire ride back to the Manor was silent, and as you went to get out of the car, Dick picked you up once again. I’m getting real tired of this… but after looking at the expression on Dick’s face, you knew it was best not to protest. He carried you up the stairs and into his bathroom, placing you on the counter. He proceeded to open drawers and cabinets until a multitude of medical supplies was strewn out beside you.

“Opening the damn window would’ve been just as easy,” he mumbled. “Your hand is probably broken to pieces.”

“It feels fine,” you said as you began to curl your fingers into a fist.

Dick looked up at you in awe, but then continued with his disgruntled demeanor. “Well stop moving it as I’m trying to get all this glass out.” Finally, the last piece was pulled out and he lathered his own hands in soap and carefully cleaned the blood away from your own. Once satisfied, he covered the wounds in Neosporin and began wrapping it in gauze.

“You’re turning me into a mummy.”

“Well, maybe that would explain how your hand isn’t shattered.”

You gazed into his eyes, your own filled with sorrow and yearning to tell him everything. He continued on, “Y/N. What happened?” when you didn’t respond, he carried you over to his bed and turned to walk away. You caught his wrist with your good hand, though you were still unsure why. The look of hope he gave you melted away your uncertainties, and so you began.

“Lex, for obvious reasons, isn’t the best father.” You turned to lay on the bed, as Dick crawled beside you. “He doesn’t love in a healthy way. His manifests itself through obsessions. I guess he was obsessed with making me the best. Though, the best in what context, I’ll never understand. I was put through more physical and mental training…” you stopped and turned towards Dick, “well I guess probably as much physical training as you.” You gave a half-hearted chuckle, and instinctively drew yourself closer to him. “The physical stuff was easy, the mental stuff…to have someone in your mind, manipulating and molding it…” Dick was the one to pull you closer this time, feeling the tears against his body. “I got really good at hiding away the bad memories, the painful ones. I got really good at only showing him what I wanted him to see.”

Dick kissed your forehead and looked down at you, thinking your tale was over, “It’s okay Y/N, I’m going to do everything I can to keep you safe.”

You let out a laugh, “Oh, I wasn’t done. That’s the easy stuff to talk about…to remember.” He looked down at you with concern and worry plastered across his face. “Look, I don’t want your pity. But I’ll tell you more, if you still want to know.” He nodded, so you buried your face once again into his chest, “training was just half the battle. I never knew when I would be experimented on next, and I never knew exactly what those experiments would do. I knew about the explosion because I could hear a bomb ticking. I guess whatever Lex did to me, this latest run, allowed my hand not to break when I punched through the glass. Sometimes I…” you tried to hold back the oncoming hysteria, “I don’t know what’s actually me…and what’s property of LCORP.” With that, you broke, sobbing into the chest of a man you met a few months ago.

Dick held you tighter, “Y/N, you will always be you. Look at what you’ve overcome, look at the mind games you’ve played. All to remain you. Nothing can ever take that from you.”

You guessed you must’ve fallen asleep, as you awoke to a knock at the door and Alfred voice calling out from the other side.

“Miss Y/N? Master Dick? The family is awaiting your presence at the dinner table.”

Dick responded for the both of you, “Thanks Al, we will be right there.” Dick reluctantly loosened his grip on you, and the two of you crawled out of bed. He grabbed a t-shirt and threw it on as the two of you stalked downstairs to the dining room. You sat at the end, with Dick to your right and an empty chair to you left. An empty chair, that would not remain empty for long…as an older man strolled into the dining room. The boys all glanced nervously at each other.

“I see we have a guest,” the man ushered towards you. “Boys, do you care to explain?”

Jason, Tim, and Damian all glared at Dick. “Uhm, this is Y/N.” Dick began, conveniently leaving off your last name. “She needed our help…to escape someone from her past.”

The man looked pensively towards you, “Well, my name is Bruce. I hope my boys were able to help. Are you planning to stay long with us?”

Making sure to keep your mummified hand under the table you said, “I’m not really sure. There have been some unusual complications, but I don’t want to put your family in any danger, so I will be off as soon as I can.”

The rest of the meal was relatively silent until Bruce let out a long sigh, “Alright boys. I have been patient. Who is going to tell me the full story here? WHO is SHE?”

You stood up and brought your hands up in surrender, but before you could speak Bruce continued glaring at your hand. “What happened. I need answers now. Dick?”

You hadn’t realized Dick rose to his feet and was already standing behind you, but you answered Bruce’s question anyways. “Look, my name is Y/N Luthor. The infamous Lex Luthor is my dear old dad. Not that he’s ever done anything father-like.” Now you had let the dams open, you couldn’t stop. Dick wrapped his arms around you and pulled you to his chest, “I have been experimented on and tortured my ENTIRE life. I just wanted some peace, I just wanted to be free.” You pulled away from Dick, “And don’t think I don’t know why you came to me. You wanted to use me to get to my father…” You felt the pain creeping back into your head, M’gann couldn’t completely get rid of it, and being in the presence of the entire batfamily was beginning to take its toll. Dick, and the rest of the boys noticed you grimace in pain, but you continued on “It wouldn’t have mattered. I don’t know anything that he does, he makes sure to wipe that clean from my memory.” You stagger backwards into Dick. “Not that he cares enough to remove the pain, or the scars.” Without thinking you rip off your shirt. “Do these look like something a FATHER would do?!”

Everyone, except Dick, stared at the scars you had accumulated, while they tried to process all the information you had just handed them. Dick just steadied you and turned you to face him.

“Y/N, you need to calm down. What is happening? I’m right here, tell me.”

“M’gann…couldn’t get rid of it all.”

“What?!” All four of the boys exclaimed in unison. Dick was the only one to continue, “You mean you’ve just been living with constant pain, why didn’t you tell me? Or…someone?”

“I’ve lived with worse,” you forced a weak smile. “I think…all of you at once…it’s just –” Dick cut you off, turning to Bruce.

“I need to get her out of here. They can explain.”

Tim and Damian immediately looked to Jason.

“What, since I’m the fuck up, I get to tell the Old Man what happened?” The boys nodded in unison. “Fine…” Jason detailed the events so far, as he came to a conclusion, Tim chimed in.

“I’m already looking into the cause of the explosion. It could just be a coincidence.”

“Considering we were there, I would highly doubt that Drake.” Tim kicked his younger brother under the table and gave him a ‘duh, but I didn’t want Dad to know that’ stare. Damian just shrugged and turned his attention back to Bruce.

“Tim, I want to know as soon as you have something on that explosion. We need to figure out if they found Y/N again, and how”

“So you are not kicking Y/N out, Father?”

“Of course not, Damian, she needs our help. She can’t control who her father is.”

 ***

“Y/N, why didn’t you tell me?”

“I have already put you through so much…all of you…you didn’t need to worry about this as well.”

“That’s not really fair for you to decide for me…us.”

“It doesn’t affect you.”

“It affects you, so it affects me. Stop thinking you’re in this by yourself.”

“Why shouldn’t I be? You met me, what three months ago?!”

“ARGH! Who cares how long it’s been?! God, I fucking care about you Y/N.” With that he crossed the room and wrapped you in his arms, smashing his lips to yours. “Next time, you tell me, okay?” You looked up at him and nodded.

The next morning came too quickly, you woke up enveloped in Dick’s arms, as if he was afraid you would leave in the middle of the night. Which, to be fair, you had thought about once or twice. You tried to wriggle your way out of his grasp but failed at every turn. Instead you began to think. I’m not even sure if Lex is my real father. He wouldn’t have kept me otherwise, right? Can I ever be free? I mean, he knows Bruce is Batman, and yet he’s still alive. Anything to protect his public image right. Suddenly, a realization struck you.

“He kept me hidden in case one of his experiments killed me. He never did it to protect me.”

Your words had caused Dick to stir, “What?” he questioned groggily.

“Dick. Lex, he…he kept me hidden all this time. He always told me it was so you guys didn’t come after me, trying to get to him. But that was all a lie. Everything is about his image, everything. He did it in case he accidentally killed me.”

“Uh..huh...”

“I mean it all makes sense, even if I’m not actually his daughter, if I’m connected to him in the public eye…ha! He will have lost his built-in test dummy.”

“Wait…what do you mean even if you’re not actually his daughter?”

You shrugged, “guess it’s more of hoping, I mean what father could do this to their daughter, right? Now I just need a way to get in the public eye, quickly.”

“I may have an idea.”

***

“I can’t believe I let you talk me into this.”

“Look, Y/N/N, it’s the easiest way. Plus Tim already uploaded all the files he found, the ones that Lex scrubbed. Once your name is said, once you’re linked to the Wayne family…everyone will know who you are. You know you can’t come back from this.”

“Dickie, there’s no other way. Even this, I’m not sure if it will work, but hopefully it will at least make it harder for Lex to get a hold of me.”

Lights flashed as you stepped out of the limo, linking arms with Dick Grayson. You heard dozens of people shouting his name, trying to get his attention. Finally, he stopped you in front of a reporter, one you thought was a little too eager to meet him.

“Dick Grayson, don’t you look dashing this evening? Who, may I ask, is on your arm tonight?”

“Well, Melody, I’d like you to meet Y/N Luthor.” Dick gave you a quick peck to the cheek.

The reporter glanced over to her crew, her eyes demanding they look you up immediately.

“Luthor, she wouldn’t happened to be related to the famous Lex Luthor?”

This time, you spoke up, “I am, he’s my father…all the rich kids end up together, don’t we?” you shot the camera a mischievous smile before ushering Dick inside.

“That was awful” you mumbled as the two of you walked into the gala.

“But you played the camera so well, almost like you’d been in the spotlight your entire life.” Dick kissed your forehead.

“Well, I have been hiding my true self my whole life, what’s the difference, right?” The two of you made your way over to his brothers, just before you approached them, Dick turned you to face him.  

“I don’t want you to have to hide, ever again.” And he planted a soft but passionate kiss on your lips.

[ckret2]

y’all can we spend a minute thinking about the logistics of celebrating Christmas in Hell

Dozens of posts I've seen cheerily discussing/writing/illustrating all the cute ways Hazbin Hotel characters would celebrate Christmas and absolutely zero have I noticed so far that mention the fact that characters who are literally in Hell would have a really really fucking complicated relationship with Christianity & Christmas.

Long examination of this under the cut. If the cut doesn’t work, blame tumblr, merry crimmus.

What if they're not even allowed to celebrate Christmas? We're told that Hazbin Hotel takes place in the America-ish portion of Hell, where the folks who die in the U.S. tend to plop down; nearly everyone there who's died in the last couple hundred odd years would be used to Christmas being a big public holiday as the default, even if how & how much it was celebrated has radically changed. Imagine going from Americanized Christmas Mania straight to Lucifer being like "EXCUSE me, you are NOT throwing a birthday party for my ex-boss's son, don't be stupid! That's not even when his birthday is?? By royal decree the next person who attempts to go caroling is getting a pine tree shoved up their ass, don't test me. I'll give you a better birthday to celebrate, it's called Charliemas and it's on June 6, you're welcome." What a shift, from oppressively aggressive Christmasing to Christmas itself being completely oppressed. Anybody who wants to celebrate Christmas would have to be really determined and really secretive.

What if he doesn't care, though? Even at that, everyone’s still going to have to heavily rethink their relationship with Christmas.

Like, no small part of the bargain at the base of Christianity is “if you worship this dude we say is God’s kid, do the things we tell you are good, and apologize very sincerely when you do the things we tell you are unacceptable, you get to go to heaven.” If you are a Christian in Hell—and, being in Hell, with Lucifer strutting around looking like he’s ready to lead a marching band, sort of implies that your religious belief was at least partially correct—then that means somebody didn’t hold up their bargain. Is it God & Jesus, not letting you into Heaven when you did everything you believe you were SUPPOSED to be doing? Or is it you: did you fail to be the good person you were supposed to be and/or did you misunderstand what the requirements were? Those are the only two options if you’re a Christian in Hell. Either Jesus failed you or you failed Jesus.

Say you went to Hell because you were a self-righteous hypocritical douchebag who violently misinterpreted the Bible to suit your own needs and confirm your own biases, and your Christianity is fanatical but predicated on the belief that it's shaped to accommodate you. You're probably going to be absolutely furious that you're in Hell. You might blame your position on The Bad People Whom Jesus Definitely Doesn't Love, if you can find a way to twist that logic around in your head—but then, seeing you weren't rewarded for your faith like you were promised, and now that you're in a place where there are no more future rewards promised to good little Christians maybe you turn your resentment against the faith itself and the figures worshipped by this faith. Maybe you have a personal grudge against Jesus Christ himself.

On the other hand, maybe you're still a cruel person but you genuinely do believe, in your heart of hearts, that your cruelty is in line and in service to Jesus. Or maybe you compartmentalize the parts of your life where you're hurtful and spiteful from the parts of your life where you're devout and loving. Maybe you are 100% zealous worshipper—but nevertheless, the second you realize you're in Hell, you know EXACTLY what you did to end up there, and you believe heart and soul that you deserve it. You still worship Jesus because you think it's good and right and he deserves it and he's still going to save the worthy... it's just that you aren't worthy.

And then there are the "doomsday cultists." Lots of times, when people are in a "the world will end on X date" doomsday cult and that day comes and goes with nothing happening, they don't realize they were wrong and go home—they double down on their beliefs. The psychological mechanism behind this is that basically, people in a cult like that have given up their lives, families, friends, jobs, everything to serve this cult; when it looks like they gave up everything for NOTHING, they go "I can't afford to be wrong, I gave up my entire life on this belief.” For a lot of Christians who end up in Hell, they’ll probably double down on their beliefs, too—telling themselves that they didn’t spend their lives following this religion just to fail and end up damned for all time. Maybe they’ll tell themselves that if they’re good enough Christians in Hell they’ll be forgiven and allowed upstairs. Maybe once they’ve tallied up enough goodness points, maybe during the second coming, whichever. Eventually.

Or say the criteria for getting into Heaven are actually incredibly strenuous and almost everybody goes to Hell—if you say "oh my god" one time then you took the Lord's name in vain, no take backs, no second chances, no repenting undoes it, you're damned for all time. (We know so little about what gets people damned in this series that that might well be the case, it all remains to be seen.) Most people might not even know what specifically they did to end up in Hell. Some of these confused people might just exist with a vague sense of guilt, some might resent the powers that be that sent them to the shittier afterlife for seemingly no reason.

So, conclusion: if you're Christian and you're in Hell? Being in Hell is going to force you to completely reevaluate your relationship with your faith—and you’ve gotta do all that reevaluating in in a place NOT designed for healthy self-reflecton and growth! The disillusioned bigots are going to be pissed off at Jesus, the guilt-stricken zealots are going to feel ashamed to face the concept of Jesus, the “doomsday cultists” are going to be twice as intensely Christian as they ever were in life. And then there are going to be all the normal non-extremists who have to grapple with the uneasy knowledge that if they’d done things right they wouldn’t be here but here they are and now they’ve got to redefine their beliefs—or perhaps abandon them—based on the knowledge that they’re now beyond Jesus’s salvation.

AND THEN JESUS’S BIRTHDAY ROLLS AROUND HAPPY FUCKING BIRTHDAY JESUS CHRIST OH MY GOD IT’S CHRISTMAS.

There are going to be riots started by the people who feel like they shouldn’t be in Hell and are righteously infuriated by the idea of celebrating the birth of the guy they personally blame for putting them there. There are going to be riots started by the people who think they need to be as religious as possible and go into a red haze at the sight of anyone who they think isn’t living up to those standards. There are going to be broken sobbing wrecks overcome with guilt and shame at this reminder of the dude they let down. So, you know... all the usual ways people have breakdowns around Christmas, except it’s everyone having them, and it’s ten times more intense.

Even the relatively normal, well-adjusted people are going to feel kind of uneasy trying to celebrate. Like, the fact that they’re in Hell means they’re permanently on God’s naughty list. Is it, like... inappropriate to celebrate the birthday of God’s son when you’re on God’s naughty list? Like is Jesus gonna be glaring down accusatorially at them for celebrating Christmas in Hell? Christmas is supposed to be jolly, are the damned allowed to be jolly?

What about the raised-culturally-Christian atheists in Hell who, before dying, celebrated Christmas because they always had, because their family did, because their friends did, and they decided long ago that it was nice to just keep going along with it for the tree and lights and food and gifts and general goodwill-toward-man feeling even if they didn’t believe in Jesus. Being in Hell, where actual honest-to-God angels swoop down once a year and actual Lucifer is married to actual Adam’s actual first girlfriend, kind of implies that all the things they didn’t believe in are at least partially true. (And for all we know somewhere off screen Lucifer is going “oh, yeah, Jesus, met him couple times, watched him do some miracles, he’s real, look I got a photo of him here”—so it might be confirmed-confirmed, not just strongly implied, in universe. We just don’t know yet how much of Christianity is gonna be canon to Hazbin.)

So suddenly Christmas can’t really be a Santa-and-reindeer “I leave out the Jesus stuff because I don’t believe in it” celebration, because hey what do you know it looks like the Jesus stuff was probably true, so what are the atheists gonna do? Are they going to be, like, super sheepish about celebrating Christmas? Do they have to decide grimacingly whether they’re gonna start doing nativity decorations instead of Santa decorations if all that nativity shit is actually historically accurate? They lived their lives not worshipping Jesus because they didn’t believe in him, does the fact that it seems like he really is real and really is the son of God mean they’ve got to start worshipping him now, or can they just... keep not doing that? Can they keep ignoring Jesus and focusing on Santa instead? Is it okay to keep celebrating Christmas without Christ if it turns out he’s real? Even if they decide that is what they’re gonna do, boy, they’re sure gonna have to put some thought into it first.

And that's not even including the possibility that not all the characters are Christian or raised-culturally-Christian. (I say "possibility" because we know so little about the logic/mechanics/rules behind the worldbuilding in Hazbin—for all we know, people in this setting are judged only by the standards of their own religions/cultures and go to their own religions'/cultures’ respective afterlives, making everyone we see in Hell either Christian or Christian-adjacent; if that turns out NOT to be the case, then ABSOLUTELY there are going to be characters of other faiths down there somewhere.) If there are people of other faiths down there can you imagine how fucking exhausting it would be to spend your entire life having Christmas shoved in your face, dying, going to an alarmingly Christian-looking hell, and these fuckers are still shoving Christmas in your face, like “holy shit y’all are in HELL jesus is not going to be your friend if you throw him a birthday party can you shut up about christmas for five minutes I’m so tired—”

What about the imps, the demons, the ones for whom Christmas is yet another foreign cultural artifact the silly little dead humans brought in with them, the ones for whom God and all his family have always been the enemy, the ones who predate Jesus Christ himself? What’s it gonna be like being a human-loving princess of hell who might adore the fur-trimmed red robes and the bright colorful lights but who knows that this is a celebration for the son/avatar of the guy who kicked her dad out of Heaven and annually sends down exterminators to slaughter her citizens? She’s not even Christian but would she not have the most complicated emotions of anyone if she attempted to celebrate Christmas?

And sure, there’s going to be some dead humans who just, celebrate Christmas because they’ve always celebrated Christmas even if they don’t consider themselves Christian specifically because they have never put an ounce of critical thought into it, the kind of people who unironically say “but EVERYONE celebrates Christmas”/“but Christmas is basically a secular holiday now” and genuinely believe it. You know—the people who do, like, zero self-examination of their culture and are completely oblivious to how much of their moral & ethical system and understanding of how religion works on a fundamental level comes from Christianity even if they do not literally believe in God and Jesus and thus don’t consider themselves actually Christian. Those people are going to be celebrating Christmas in Hell with just as much blithe self-unawareness as they ever celebrated it in life. And those people with their complete lack of deeper meditation on the implications of their own actions, going around cheerily wishing everyone a merry merry Christmas hey it’s coming up soon aren’t you excited of course you're excited everyone’s excited for Christmas there’s nobody that doesn’t celebrate Christmas—are going to be making things very uncomfortable for everyone else, including even a great many of the hardcore religious types who persisted celebrating in Hell. That tension is going to haunt them no matter how oblivious they are.

So, basically? Absolutely nobody in Hell is going to have a normal relationship with Christmas. Nobody. Nobody. Nobody. Christmas is a reminder that either you let down your God or your God let you down; or Christmas is a reminder that all the things you never believed in were actually true all along; or Christmas is a reminder you’ve been judged unworthy.

Every single candy cane, ugly holiday sweater, and wrapped gift is laden with an implicit reminder of eternal damnation.

Christmas is going to be a weird time.

It’s going to be an extremely fucking weird time.

Let’s mix a little of that theological existential horror into our Christmas headcanons, yeah?