#i always saw her as a master at picking up on social changes/cues so she can tell when things are most tense/kotoko is fully prepared

[good-beanswrites]

Just wanted to plant an idea if you wanted a bit of fuel: Mahiru asking Yuno to come to her cell before everything goes down.

Edit: I forgot the ask didn't say it but this is part of Kyanako's incredible Order Of Attack AU!

Didn't mean for this to become a mini Mappi study but here we are ✨ Thank you for the request! I fully intended to write them hanging out, but it's more right before they hang out lol. Went a bit on-the-nose with foreshadowing, but isn't that the fun part? It has become Emotional Over Mahiru Hour...

I kept things vague, but TW for mentioning her boyfriend's state of potential self-harm

Mahiru tried not to act superstitious, she really did. As much as she loved the idea of little luck charms, or avoided easy signs of misfortune, it was easier to keep quiet about such ridiculous things.

Maybe catching a bride’s bouquet meant no guarantees; maybe there was no real harm in stepping underneath ladders, maybe a coin tossed into a fountain had no real magic to its wish. However, the one thing she knew for sure held power was a lucky presence. Being in the right place at the right time could alter everything. And today was the right time for something. There was this waiting in the air. The prison had been holding its breath. Mahiru knew it was time to release it all.

“You must be so lonely, why don’t you let big sis Mahiru keep you company?” She beamed at Amane.

She often recalled the good fortune that she and a certain young man had crossed paths on the university terrace. She used to laugh with him about the wonderful coincidence of bumping into each other outside of the bakery, then the convenience store. 

Though she’d never spoken about it to him, she was also grateful for many occasions where she walked in on him at the precise moment to talk him out of something reckless. She always told him that they’d do everything together. He didn’t need to be alone anymore. 

“I wish to be alone. I need peace of mind to think.” Amane turned away from the cell door.

It was a good thing, too. Mahiru’s smile wasn’t as convincing as she said, “o-oh. Of course.”

She made her way around the panopticon, hearing Fuuta pace his cell in anticipation. He must have felt it too, this holding of breath. 

Or perhaps not. He turned down her offer for a bit of company, including a few more colorful words than Amane had. Mahiru just apologized for bothering him and headed back to her cell. She wasn’t sure where Mikoto was at this hour, but she didn’t feel like smiling through a third rejection.

She shook her head back and forth. She wished the motion could rattle the voices inside, she wished she could shake them all away. With her arms secured in place she could no longer cover her ears. She used to hum to keep them at bay, but lately they’d been too loud to stifle. They just kept on talking.

Their words told her the two were right. Nobody needed her company. No – nobody wanted it. Being together hadn’t helped her boyfriend. In fact, being together had been the very thing that got him killed. No wonder Amane and Fuuta wanted to avoid her. 

So then, this was for the best. She would rather deal with the brief sting of refusal than stumble in one day to find them hurt… or worse. As much as she tried to avoid the superstition of it all, the voices reminded her that her very presence could mean life or death. 

“Mappi, are you alright?” Mahiru hadn’t realized a tear had slipped down her cheek until she hurried to swipe it away in front of Yuno. 

“Hah, I’m fine! Just fine.” It was impossible to fool her, Mahiru had learned, but that never stopped her from trying. 

At least she always spoke tactfully. “Rough morning?”

Mahiru shifted her arms in her uniform, making a small sound of agreement.

“Can I do anything to help? What if I stay with you for a bit? I can do your hair, and…”

The voices were right. Amane and Fuuta knew it, too. Presences did hold power, and Mahiru’s was cursed.

But she would sound foolish admitting such a fear to Yuno. She'd heard plenty from the voices about how stupid and airheaded she was, there was no use in getting the same lecture from someone as grounded as her.

Mahiru managed a weak protest, unable to explain her real reasoning. Yuno was insistent. She didn’t give much of a choice. Could she feel the strangeness of the prison, as well? 

At last, Mahiru allowed her shoulders to sag. Yuno was lucky. And kind. Having her nearby would do her good. Amane and Fuuta would be alright. Mahiru had tried spending more time with them after verdicts were announced. Now, she made a mental note to pull back. If her love couldn’t save anyone, at least she could spare them from her curse. They would be safe. 

“Yes. Please stay. The truth is... I don't want to be alone.”

[ragingbookdragon]

I saw you want idea for flash. Maybe Barry falling in love with Bruce's younger sister who is justice league member. Barry has a crush on her because she is a good cook and very optimistic with a habit of making puns. Cue the cute fluffy romance with food.

P.s. sorry if it's too much. I love your works on the lanterns.

Okay, I changed it just a pinch, but I think it works well! I'm glad you love my GL works dear! -Thorne

**********************************************************************

Barry had been to Gotham more than a few times. Honestly, the city gave him the creeps and he stayed away, but he’d been a few times. He was probably the superhero besides Superman and Wonder Woman that didn’t have to call before he entered the area. That being said, his Midwestern sensibilities got hold of him more than they did most, and he couldn’t help but call ahead. Except when he didn’t get a response from Bruce, it worried him, and he got to the Batcave in record time.

“Bruce!” he called, skidding to a stop near the Batcomputer, only to find a young woman sitting in the chair with a worried look on her face. “Uh…”

She jumped at the sound out his voice and spun around, the worried look giving way to relief. “Flash! Oh, I’m so glad someone answered!” hurrying over, she took his hand and led him to the screen. “You have to help Bruce.”

He blinked, looking over at her. “Who are you?”

“Who am—” she shook her head. “That’s not important right now.” Pointing to the screen, she explained, “Joker and Harley took over Arkham Asylum and they’re unlocking the cells all across the blocks. Bruce is good, but I don’t know if he can manage that many supervillains at the same time.”

She clicked a button and the screen flashed, showing Bruce in the middle of a fight with Killer Croc and Poison Ivy. “The others are busy across the city running missions.” Turning, she took Barry’s hands in her own, tears coming to her eyes. “Please, Flash. Help Bruce. Please.”

Barry could only gape at the woman and look at the screen again, watching as Bruce took a blow to the side, and he nodded, pulling away. “Alright. I’ll help him.”

Her shoulder sunk in relief. “Oh, thank you.” She picked up some kind of device that looked like a scanning thermometer and raised it to Barry’s head, clicking the button.

“What’s that?”

“It’s a scanner. I’ll be able to get into your suit’s frequency to help you.” She turned and set down the scanner, then tapped at the screen. Immediately, directions to Arkham Asylum flooded the sensors in Barry’s cowl. “There. Can you see them?”

He nodded with a smile. “Yeah, I’ve got ‘em.”

Grinning at him, she winked. “Now run, Flash. Run.”

Barry shot her a look. “That’s original.” And he was off in a streak of yellow lightning.

***

It took less than thirty minutes for Barry and Bruce to reign in the asylum and make it back to the cave. And boy, was Bruce not happy to see his coworker in Gotham city, much less her who’d called him.

“I explicitly told you not to call anyone unless I ever told you to do so.”

Barry watched as she inconspicuously rolled her eyes, but he knew Bruce saw the reaction too. “I made a judgement call.”

“Your judgement was flawed, (Y/N).”

She glowered at him. “Maybe your flaw is being an anti-social jerk.”

The Flash narrowly managed to turn his snort into a cough.

“I didn’t call in another superhero to rain on your parade, Bruce.” (Y/N) grabbed Barry’s arm and yanked him forward. “I called your friend who was going to have your back when you needed it.”

Bruce looked between the two and Barry couldn’t help but blurt out, “I still have no idea what the relationship is between you two, but I’ve seen Wally and Bart argue long enough to know that you guys are family.”

(Y/N) laughed while Bruce merely grunted. “We’re siblings. Bruce is my older brother.”

“Ah, that explains it.” Barry looked between them. “So, are you not a superhero then?”

She smiled. “No. I’m just technical and moral support for the family.” Meeting his eyes, she added, “And the occasional referee whenever someone has beef with another family member.”

He chuckled. “Telling me the woman who has no martial arts training can keep up with the master detectives?”

(Y/N) winked. “It always helps to have a Superman-Stun-Gun on your person.”

Barry all but cackled, and Bruce griped, “Are you two done? I still have business to take care of.”

She stuck her tongue out at Bruce and grabbed Barry’s hand. “C’mon Barry, you’re probably hungry.”

“I’m always hungry.”

***

(Y/N) ushered him into the kitchen and onto one of the barstools. “Sit. I was just about to pull the chicken out of the oven.”

“What’d you make?”

Cracking the oven, she let the steam billow out before opening it all the way and reaching in with her oven-mitted hands, pulling out a glass casserole dish. Inside was a bubbling mixture of chicken and rice and the second the scent hit Barry’s nose, his stomach grumbled like a whale.

His cheeks flushed and he pressed a hand to his stomach. “Sorry.”

(Y/N) smiled and set the dish down on two wooden trivets before removing the gloves; she grabbed a serving spoon from the drawer and scooped out a good helping of rice and one of the larger pieces of chicken, setting it in front of the Speedster.

When he picked up a spoonful and brought it to his mouth, she gently laid a hand on his wrist, stopping him with a quiet, “Careful, it’s hot.”

Barry closed his mouth in a small “ooo” and blew softly, then put the spoonful in his mouth. Immediately he groaned, eyes closing as he chewed.

“Pretty good, huh?”

He swallowed and nodded. “It’s fantastic.” He stuck the spoon back in the bowl. “It reminds me of the chicken and rice my mom used to make.”

(Y/N)’s eyes flashed with a sad tone, but only for a moment. “My mother used to make this for Bruce and I when we had bad days. It was the comfort food she’d learned how to make when she was young.” She blew on her own spoonful. “I’ve spent almost two decades trying to recreate that loving feeling I used to get when I ate it as a kid.”

Before he could say a word, a shout sounded through the foyer. “AUNT (Y/N)! WHY IS THE OLD MAN ACTING LIKE AN ASSHOLE MORE THAN USUAL!”

She snorted, looking towards the doors when her nephews wandered in; the tallest one stopped and cocked a brow at Barry sitting on the barstool. “Oh. So that’s why B’s in a bad mood.”

“Jason, be nice,” she tutted, spooning the food onto plates, and passing them to each boy that walked over.

The young man glowered at Barry, who was on some level unnerved, but he met the teal eyes with his own firm baby blues. “He’s in my spot.”

(Y/N) nodded to the counter. “Then sit on the counter for now. Barry’s our guest.”

Barry speedily, ate the rest of the food and stood up. “I should actually be getting back to Central.”

“Aww,” she cooed. “But you didn’t even stay for dessert.”

That made Barry perk up. “Dessert?”

She winked. “If you gimme just a sec, I’ll have it whipped up…in a flash.”

Barry cackled while the others around her groaned and then someone cleared their throats, causing them to look towards the entryway at Bruce. (Y/N) smiled and plated some of their dinner, holding it out for him.

He took it and didn’t even cool it off before taking a bite. But the way his expression softened just a moment, told her all she needed to know; he leaned over and pecked her temple, murmuring, “Taste’s just like mother used to make.”

Bruce took the plate and walked back over to the doorway, but stopped and said, “Barry…thank you for the help tonight.” And then he was gone, leaving Barry to gape at the doorframe and (Y/N) smiling.

“I think Hell just froze over, Aunt (Y/N).”

She rolled her eyes and ruffled Tim’s hair. “And there went the loving moment.” Laughing along with her nephews, she looked at Barry. “So, dessert?”

He smiled politely but shook his head. “I really need to be getting back.”

“I understand.” She nodded and gave Jason another serving when he handed his plate over. “Barry?”

He paused, glancing back from the doorway and she gave him a look that made his insides feel warm and fuzzy. “Yeah?”

(Y/N) smiled. “Don’t be a stranger.”

Barry winked in return and was off in a flash.

[noyashighlight]

The Villianess who lived

Chapter one

“ And for the crimes of trying to harm another noble not only in public but in the vicinity of the royal family I summon you to death Y/n Villarreal.” The executioner’s voice boomed through the crowd of people gather in town square.

The one accused of the Horrendous crime was nothing more than a young girl, but not just any girl the daughter of Duke Villarreal who had just been beheaded this moment in an attempt to save his beloved daughter. Though she was vain and jealous of the baron's daughter for managing to steal her love the first prince, poisoning tea wasn’t her thing. Speaking of her beloved first prince, Tooru Oikawa was the one who sentenced her to this harsh death. He loved Maryanne Barlowe and not y/n, only being engaged to her for political advantage to be the crowned prince. He watched from his seat a daunting smirk on his face, his hatred for the girl ran deep to the point where the announcement of her death made him chuckle.

Next to him stood his best friend and personal knight Hajime Iwaizumi wearing his usual poker face. Though she was annoying with her unexplained love for the one he served and her cruel attitude towards women, the knight didn’t believe she deserved this punishment.

And on his other side sat Maryanne Barlowe the eighth and youngest child of the Baron, known as the sunflower of high society thanks to her friendly attitude she used to social climb. No one saw her as a threat due to her title, but now she would be the future empress. Soon she would reveal her true self as this was all an act for her, from pretending to be nice and weak to poisoning her own drink at a tea party Y/n hosted.

Y/n’s eyes shook with rage, hatred soared. Everything was taken from her, she was an accused villainess whose only real crime was falling for the wrong man who thought of her as a disposable object. “Any last words Lady Villarreal?” Tooru said standing from his seat, making sure he could get a good view of her in her last moments.

“ I hope that in my next life, I’ll be the one to place your head on a stick and parade it around the capital.” She still held her head high as if she wasn’t who just defamed the future self-proclaimed king.

He let out a loud chuckle that would send chills down anyone’s spine, “ Those who have sinned don’t get a next life, I hope the heavens forgive you my dear.” To think the only time he called her my dear was in a sinister setting. He nodded his head as cue for the executioner to do his job, “ May your damned soul find peace in the after life.” He whispered before swinging the sword down.

Her throat felt cold and burned as she shot up in her bed holding her throat letting out a scream of terror. “ My Lady are you okay?” Her personal maid Olivia burst through the double doors of her room. Y/n looked around horrified, she was back in her room. And Olivia was alive and well? This couldn’t be, the maid had died after taking the fall saying she had poured the tea thinking it would save her master.

“ I-I’m fine, how old am I?” It all felt too real to be a dream, was she given a second chance? Or was this the peacefulness of the afterlife being with the ones she loves? “ You’re about to turn 17 in a week, are you sure that you’re okay? You look pale and sweaty my lady.” The maid worried checking her head for fever or any signs of one. She was interrupted when Y/n pulled her down into a hug.

“ I’m fine Liv, I’m just happy to see you that’s all.” The young girl was never this gentle on any subject but that prince. Ah, that bastard who dared to cross her after devoting her life and body to him. She had a year until her death so she hadn’t done anything stupid yet. But to change her fate she had to change the future. “ What’s my schedule for today?” She hummed, if they wanted a villainess she would play the part but for her own benefit.

Olivia looked at y/n like she had lost her mind, “ You’re having tea with the first prince, you had to wait a whole month to get him to agree since he said he was busy.” Ah, that was right Tooru did all he could do to ignore and shun his betrothed. What a cowardly man, she thought getting out of bed.

“ I want to wear a light orange dress today, the more innocent the better. I’ve got a crow to catch.” She smiled to herself as sat in front of her vanity. Her maid was distraught by the sudden change of dress. “ But my lady! You’ve had that revealing aqua dress you were planning to wear since it’s Prince Tooru’s favorite color.” Maybe her mistress had finally lost her mind.

Y/n couldn’t help but laugh, love was such a blind curse. “ Throw it out, and anything else that color it makes me was to puke. Now pick me out something simple for breakfast so I can have breakfast with father. The maid nodded and quickly got her ready.

“ Father!” Y/n hugged the stern Duke, his face automatically softening. She hadn’t clung to him like this since he told her that he got the king to accept her engagement to Prince Tooru. “well hello to you too sweetheart, what did I do to deserve this?” He was curious, he hadn’t brought her anything over the past few days due to him being gone.

She couldn’t believe that her father was standing before her alive and well. “ Nothing I’m just glad to see you, now let’s have breakfast together before I have to go to the palace. “ she clung to his arm as they walked to the table together, she was going to make sure her father didn’t die in vain this time.

“ And we're finished, you look gorgeous Lady Y/n. No Lady’s beautiful rivals yours, the prince will definitely fall in love with you this time.” Olivia gushed at her handy work, as y/n stared at herself in the mirror astonished at her reflection. “ Olivia I will reward you when I come back home, now I must go I don’t want to be late.” She smiled making her way to her carriage, it didn’t matter if she was late or not because the prince would always arrive an hour late just to show the true distance between them. In this hour of free time she would set her plan into action.

“ Lady Villarreal.” Her knight Wakatoshi Ushijima said, holding out his hand to help her on to the carriage. “ Toshi I told you not to be so formal when no one is around, I get enough of that already.” She giggled at him taking his hand and getting on. Not only was he the best knight of the Duke but also her childhood friend.

“ My apologies lad- y/n, I’m used to you always having one of the noble ladies with you.” Those ladies weren’t here friends only using her for her high status, in the past, she was just too dumb to see but now it was clear as day.

The second she arrived at the palace she told wakatoshi to wait for her, as she wanted her alone time with the prince. Aha if only they knew which prince she was talking about. Y/n was headed to the crow garden, where the second prince Tobio Kageyama would be since it was a garden dedicated to his late mother. Once aprincess from another kingdom before becoming the empress while Tooru’s mother was only a queen. Sadly Tobio’s mother died at a young age, this palace was deadly yet somehow he was still alive. She was taking a real gamble coming here trying to meet him, it could even cost her life but whether she dies now or a year later made no difference.

The garden was filled with orange and black flowers that seemed almost otherworldly, the girl looked like she was a part of the garden with her dress blending into the flowers. No sign of the second prince at all, maybe her plan was going all to waste. The girl crouched down gently touching a flower. Just then she felt a cold sword on her shoulders threatening to cut her neck. “ Your highness prince Tobio has forbidden anyone from picking the flowers. Stand up slowly and turn to state your name.” Y/n gulped as she followed instructions meeting eyes with Shoyo Hinata, the orange-headed prince’s guard. He usually wore a playful smile but when ordered to can become deadly in seconds.

“ Lower your sword, I’m very aware of who she is. Though I have no idea why you’d show your face in this part of the palace.” A low voice ordered from behind Shoyo. prince Tobio finally came into the picture, but he didn’t look too happy.

Y/n bowed after the sudden shock, “ Glory to you your highness, may you prosper.” She spoke humbly, he was almost taken aback that she was bowing in his stead. Yes, she was in a lower position than him, but rumor had it that the duke’s daughter thought of herself as a prince who would only bow below the king and her beloved. “ You may rise, Lady Villarreal, why have you come here?”

He was itching to find out why she was here of all places, was she sent by his brother to kill him? Tobio had never formally met Y/n only the rumors that she was an evil being. There was no evil being that stood before him just a lovely woman who looked innocent. “ I’m sorry that I’ve intruded, I’ve heard about this garden since I was little but was never able to come. Also I heard that you would be here.” She tucked her hair behind her ear, with Knight Hinata still here she couldn’t reveal her true plan yet.

She came here for him? What business did she have him with anyway? Maybe he had done something to offend her, Shoyo often told him that his face was scary and made ladies cry. “ Why would I be interesting enough for the lady to come all the way here just to see me? Does my brother know that you are here?” He and everyone else knew Tooru didn’t love Y/n but if he knew one thing about his brother is that he is possessive. Just knowing that his fiancé came to see him would drive him crazy.

“ Ah I can’t say, your guard is scaring me.” She lied straight through her teeth, Tobio took the bait nodded his head to dismiss his knight. “ Now you may speak freely.” This whole encounter was strange for him and what she was about to say was even stranger.

She took a deep breath, worse comes to worse she would be sent to jail for offending royalty. “ I’m going to cancel the engagement with the first prince.” She looked up to meet his eyes that just went wide with concern and confusion.

“ Why would you do that? And why would you be telling me this as if it mattered to me?” He questioned as his eyes narrowed with suspicion, maybe she wasn’t as weak as he had thought when he saw her.

Y/n smiled as she had just won a prize, he was asking questions which was a good sign. “ Well, it’s clear that Prince Tooru doesn’t love me, and is only with me for ties to the Villarreal Dukedom. Without me lowers his chances of being king, being with Maryanne Barlowe who can’t give him a status raise will be his downfall.”

“ You know speaking of a future king while the current one is still alive is a crime right, yet you refuse to bite your tongue. Go on and continue, I’ll decide by the end of this if you’ll end up in the dungeon or not.” Tobio advised causing her to gulp, she must not falter to his empty threats. 

“ My birthday ball Tooru will bring lady Maryanne instead of escorting me, excuse me but that bastard is going to embarrass me for that woman publicly. I do not wish to stay by his side, I do not wish to love anymore. So please be my escort to my birthday, I will back you and make you king. Just don’t let me die.” Her eyes began to water and gloss over which she didn’t intend to happen, the thought of repeating the past scared her.

Tobio was taken back by the sudden emotions she held, she was shaking like her life was in danger. How was her fiancé being unfaithful going to end in death? His brain swirled with theories and answers but nothing made sense. This offer was too good for him to decline also too risky in the same sense. “ Keep your word that you’re going to cancel the engagement, then I’ll send you a message on what my answer will be.” This was the only acceptable answer he could give fearing this could all be a trap, something in her eyes was crying for him to help. If Tooru did become king he was as good as dead since he had hate for Tobio. With that he left without another word, he couldn’t take in any more information at the moment.

Y/n sat in the indoor garden sipping on her tea, she had been here for two hours, her fiancé was running extra late today not that she minded. It gave her time to practice speaking calmly instead of jumping over the table and brutally murder him for the trauma he had caused from her death. When the door opened Tooru arrived with Hajime, this tea was informal as ever how did y/n of the past look forward to meeting this rude man.

“ Sorry for being late, I had some stuff to take care of. “ he sat down expecting her to whine about how she had waited so long to see him. “ I didn’t mind, I was enjoying being in my own company. I’m starting to prefer spending time with myself instead.” She said calmly not even bothering to look up from her tea.

He smirked at her attitude, he wished she was always like this instead of drooling all over him. “ Your birthday is next week, I’m guessing you’re here to ask me to escort you? I’ll be wearing blue so you have to match me.” He loved toying with her emotions and getting her hopes up, yes he would agree to go but not with her.

Y/n hated the way he was so cocky and sure of himself, “ You don’t have to worry about us matching, I’m not wearing blue at all.” She simply stated finally meeting eyes with him. “ Is this your way of telling me that you want us to wear a different color? How rude you know I love blue.” If she wanted to wear a different color he would comply since it wasn’t his party but usually she agreed with whatever he said.

“ No not us, I will be wearing a different color since you won’t be escorting me.” She dropped the bomb on him even making his knight flinch at her harsh words. Tooru most definitely thought she was playing hard to get now. “ Why wouldn’t I be? I’m your loving fiancé aren't I?” He wore a playful smirk on his face, she was going to cave in if he played the part of a lover.

She chuckled at his ignorance, he just wasn’t getting it was he? “ Prince Tooru we both know you don’t love me, and I’ve decided to stop loving you now. So why don’t we do each other a favor, and stop this? I y/n Villarreal am annulling this engagement.” She stood up from her seat shucking the prince who could only grind his teeth. Lowering herself she got close to his ear, “ Why don’t you ask Maryanne Barlowe to be your betrothed, or you might be better off marrying a commoner.” Y/n stood up straight as she made her way to the door.

Tooru could barely react in time, “ If you leave right now Y/n, I will never take you back no matter how much you or your father beg me.” He stood up quickly making his chair topple over with a slam, their was no way this weak-minded girl changed overnight.

“ Your highness please refer to me as Lady Villarreal in public from now on, I don’t want people to get weird ideas.” She smiled politely before exiting, leaving the prince to flip over the tea table in anger. Though she had escaped from that death doesn’t mean she escaped from death completely.

A/n: it took me awhile to place the characters! Thank you to everyone who submitted stuff, I’m sorry if I didn’t get to use the character you wanted but I’ll be making some headcannons for the ones y’all sent. P.s I don’t hate Oikawa at all but you can’t tell me he doesn’t play his part well lmaooo. See you next time <3

[mkw-raider]

Fire Ch. 3

Summary: Visits to someone’s balcony can be seen as purely platonic, right?

Chapter 3/4: And I Can Barely Breathe When You’re Here Loving Me

Pairing: Chloe/Marinette

AO3     First - Next - Previous - Last

After only two years of public school, Adrien was still sometimes unaware of what every social situation involved, or how to respond. But, there was one thing he knew better than any of his classmates. He had been friends with Chloé since they were children and knew her tells and cues better than anyone. If there was one social situation he could safely navigate with complete success, it was dealing with Chloé Bourgeois. Of course he had an advantage over Sabrina, because he had first hand knowledge for the more secret developments in Chloé’s life. 

Ever since she had become Khelone, her efforts to be better had increased drastically, instead of just trying to stop the mean comments and things she had done, Chloé had genuinely started apologizing to people. Not everyone had believed her right away, but Adrien had gone around to a few of their skeptical classmates and reassured them Chloé was being genuine. Change didn’t happen overnight, but his entire class had taken a turn for the better.

Adrien had never had the largest friend group, mostly choosing to hang out with Nino and occasionally Alya, or sticking with Chloé, but for the first time in years he felt like his class could become a more cohesive unit. Maybe he could finally hang out with all of his friends at once.

Nino was relaxed about most things, so Adrien figured he would probably be alright to all hang out together if Adrien asked, and then they might be able to convince Alya to come as well, but she was also the first snag in Adrien’s plan. Chloé’s apologies hadn’t made it to everyone in the class yet, and she seemed to be starting with people she had hurt less or who were more likely to accept the apology in a positive way. So Alya and Chloé still hadn’t spoken, and Alya was wary of Chloé. Adrien had managed to get her to trust him that Chloé was trying, so at least there were no drastic declarations to fight her should she hurt anyone, but Adrien didn’t think his larger friend group dreams were coming true anytime soon. Especially when the biggest snag in his plan was still suspicious of almost everything the blonde girl did. 

Marinette, who thankfully did not hate him, had begun to carry conversations with him in the recent year. He wasn’t as close to her as he wanted to be, but their friendship was refreshing, Adrien had always thought she was nice. After she had started talking to him, Nino and Alya had started making plans together that included all four of them. It was a dream come true for Adrien, for the first time he was actually getting to explore Paris in a group. But Marinette hadn’t trusted Chloé’s turn for the better, and Adrien had tried to reassure her that the other girl was being sincere but Marinette had just told him that they would see what happened.

So enter Adrien’s Multi-Part-Fantastic-Plan. Phase One; as Chat Noir, talk Chloé into visiting a civilian. If he has to, explicitly spell out it should be Marinette. Phase Two; Get Nino to convince Alya, to give Chloé a chance to apologize, because if Alya believes Chloé is genuine, they’ll have an easier time convincing Marinette. Phase Three; help Sabrina coach Chloé through giving an apology when you’ve hurt someone more than a quick sorry can fix. Phase Four; speak with Mme. Bustier about upcoming group projects, subtly hint that pre-picked pairs could be the chance the class needs to mend rifts. Their teacher loved having them say positive things to each other, and she had always seemed to push Marinette towards Chloé anyways, so now that could actually be used for good and it won’t, hopefully, end up hurting either girl. Phase Five; Plagg had just referred to this step as ‘Profit’, but Adrien didn’t think everything would work out so easily. He wanted his friends to get along but he also knew that neither of them actually had to interact outside of school.

He didn’t want to force his friends to do things they didn’t want to do, but he knew Chloé was working herself up to talking to Marinette eventually, and he thought the two would be great friends if they could just talk to each other. So with Plagg as his wingman, and master planner, Adrien set himself to work.

\\\\\\\\\\

Fighting akumas was never really easy, but after Chloé’s first month as a hero filled with difficult akumas and anxiety over losing her second chance with a Miraculous, she was thankful that the Hawkmoth had been doing more repeat akumas and things had seemed to slow down. The easier battles had given her time to think about other things, like her relationship with Ladybug.

Ladybug was speaking to her like a teammate now, almost like a friend. She had recently started being included in the patrol schedule. Chat and Ladybug had been switching off patrol nights for almost the entire time they had been heroes, occasionally patrolling together or taking multiple shifts in a row to fit each week’s schedule into whatever was going on in their personal lives, but now they had a third team member to share the burden with. Chloé had been excited for an hour, before she realized patrol was usually just watching the city for akumas or citizens in need of help, and, when she patrolled alone, very boring.

Despite patrol being the least glamorous part of being a superhero, Chloé bit back her complaints, because no temporary hero had ever done this with the Miraculous Duo. Her inclusion, while not the most exciting thing, meant she was actually a part of the team. She was a permanent hero, Ladybug trusted her, and her second chance had led to her protecting her city instead of seeking fame. 

Patrol still sucked though.

After a few weeks of quiet from Hawkmoth, Chloé had been desperate and more than a little bored, and had asked Chat Noir what they had done on patrol for the past two years they had been heroes. He had told her more about the expectations they had established in the beginning, spending at least an hour and doing two sweeps of the city after dark whenever they were scheduled. When they patrolled the same night, they alternated between racing and splitting the city to be done faster to have time to bond. Chat had told her that Ladybug normally exceeded their expectations, he could see her pass his window sometimes a dozen times on her nights as she spent hours swinging through their city. He always met expectations but he started telling her the best spots in the city to grab a late night bite before he slipped up and mentioned he spent a lot of his slow nights talking to a civilian.

Four nights after their conversation, Chloé was alone on a roof. Chat probably hadn’t meant to give her an idea, but now Chloé was tempted, and debating finding a civilian of her own to talk to. Ladybug probably would not approve. Or definitely would not approve, but Chloé was reasoning with herself that talking to someone outside of the suit could only help her. She could hear public feedback from the public, work on her ability to share stories without revealing anything about her personal life, and could spend more time in the suit just hanging out which could only make her more comfortable. And maybe she mostly just wanted to have a conversation with the nicest girl in school without any of their history.

Chloé was conflicted. Marinette and her still weren’t really speaking at school like friends, but their arguments had almost entirely stopped, and when Chloé slipped and snapped at someone, Marinette just looked at her like she was trying to figure something out instead of like Chloé was the worst thing in the world. She wondered what having Marinette look at her like she meant something would feel like. She already knew she wasn’t going to pry about herself, Ladybug would be disappointed in her, and her conscience was telling her that was an underhanded move. But Chloé still wanted to talk to Marinette, to get to know her without their past, to have one civil conversation so she at least knew what having Marinette tolerate her would feel like even if they never spoke at school.

Stupid Chat. Of course he would tell her that he talked to a civilian but not mention how he did it or how to make it not weird. Chloé had been trying, honestly putting in effort, to organically start a conversation with Marinette as a hero, but she couldn’t just show up in her room, that would be creepy. She couldn’t buy food from the bakery, they closed an hour before she started her patrol, and she was above using her power as Chloé, or her influence of Khelone to get a special pick-up after hours. Not that she hadn’t thought about it. It just seemed wrong.

Despite being closed, the bakery still glittered across from her, mocking her with it’s brightness when she felt so torn up inside. Chloé sighed and leaped towards the roof of the bakery. Not that being closer to the source of her confusion had ever helped Chloé, but maybe squatting on the chimney above the bakery and scowling down at the balcony would make her feel better. It wasn’t so far, but she had time.

Lost in another internal debate with herself, Chloé barely had time to react when the window below her scraped open. A small figure with a head of dark hair was coming onto the roof and Chloé panicked. Attempting to take a step backwards to silently leap away, her foot missed the edge of the ledge she was on, and she threw her body forward to compensate. Chloé tried to channel her inner ballerina, and balance herself, but she overcompensated and pitched forward head first onto the balcony below her. Disoriented and dizzy, Chloé tried to refocus herself and saw legs standing in front of her, clad in pink jeans.

\\\\\\\\\\

Marinette liked to think after being a superhero for two years, she could expect the unexpected better than anyone. And then Khelone fell head first onto her balcony out of nowhere and scared her enough that she dropped her sketchbook. She knew the suits helped against most damage, but Khelone had still falling from the sky and landed on her head, and Marinette thought that even Chloé’s thick head might be a little hurt after that.

“Uh, hi?” Chloé said. Marinette didn’t think she had ever seen the other girl look sheepish.

So much for my uneventful evening, she thought. Marinette sighed, “Stay here, I’ll be right back.” While she didn’t know how to feel about Chloé right now, Khelone hadn’t done anything to cause her to be rude.

Marinette left Chloé sitting on her roof, heading down into her home to find what she would need. Ice, for Chloé’s head, something to wrap it in as well, but while she was in the kitchen, she saw some leftover croissants from the day and grabbed those as well. Then she grabbed a blanket from her room because if she was going to have another superhero on her balcony, the least she could do was be a good host.  

Unsurprisingly, Chloé was exactly where Marinette had left her, but she had managed to sit herself upright while she held her head. Marinette crouched in front of the other girl and held out the wrapped ice. As soon as the ice was free from her hands, Marinette set to work. She set the croissants on a small table near her chair and then unfurled the blanket to wrap around Chloé’s shoulders. 

Chloé had interacted with Ladybug and Marinette multiple times over the years, but Khelone had only ever been around Ladybug. Marinette wanted to just leave Chloé on the roof by herself so that she could have a quiet night in, but she also knew Khelone didn’t deserve that. She was a good hero, and a good addition to the team. A civilian would have no reason to not want to talk to her, and even though Marinette knew it was Chloé, she also knew that Chloé didn’t really deserve to be left alone on her roof either, especially after her improving behaviour. 

With an internal sigh, Marinette bent to grab her sketchbook before sitting in her chair. “You can stay up here as long as you need, that fall looked like it hurt.” Glancing at Chloé, Marinette pushed the table with croissants closer towards her. “And I brought some croissants up if you’re hungry.”

Neither of them really spoke after that. Marinette would occasionally try to look at Chloé out of the corner of her eye, to see how she was doing, but when she started sketching, all of her focus went towards her latest outfit design. 

Marinette lost track of how long they were sitting in silence together, but the growing feeling of being watched snapped her back into the present. Her pen stilled in her hand as her eyes darted upwards only to find Chloé staring back at her. There was a soft smile on Chloé’s face, and Marinette stared at her for a few seconds before Chloé seemed to jump and focus.

Chloé seemed surprised to see Marinette looking back at her and stuttered briefly before managing to say, “Oh! I was just wondering what you were drawing. Maybe I could see it?” She paused before cringing slightly, “Only if you’re okay with it though?” 

None of the drawings she had done so far had been her best, and the last time Chloé had been involved with any of Marinette’s art hadn’t gone very well, but without thinking, Marinette wordlessly held her sketchbook out towards Chloé.

The soft smile from before reappeared on Chloé’s face, as she pulled the sketchbook from Marinette’s hands. Chloé’s hand lifted to trace the sketches with a finger, slowly tracing each of the designs Marinette had worked on, before lifting her gaze and beaming at Marinette. “These are all really good.”

“These are only a concept right now. I’ve got an outfit I have been trying to plan out but I keep getting stuck on the skirt.”

Chloé slid the sketchbook into Marinette’s lap before moving herself closer to lean towards Marinette and point at her sketches. “In this one, you used a longer skirt with a flair, it makes the outfit feel light, but a shorter skirt could tie the entire thing together.”

Looking at the outfit she had drawn, Marinette thought Chloé might be right. There was another outfit she had drawn recently that had been abandoned until inspiration struck, and Marinette quickly flipped towards it before bringing the sketchbook closer to Chloé. “What do you think of this one?”

\\\\\\\\\\\\\\\\\\\\\\\\\\\\\\

Chloé hadn’t expected that landing on Marinette’s balcony would have led to this. They had been sitting together, pouring over Marinette’s sketchbook, for the past hour. Chloé would occasionally offer input to outfits that Marinette hadn’t liked a part of, or when she was struggling, but mostly Marinette just showed Chloé impressive outfits and beautiful clothing designs. It made Chloé wish she had started being nicer a long time ago. She had been missing out on probably the only person in class who could talk fashion with her.

The croissants Marinette had brought to the balcony were long gone by now, and the pounding of Chloé’s head had receded as her ice had completely melted. Despite her initial introduction being subpar, and her truly having no reason to stay this long, Chloé had quickly become captivated by Marinette. The other girl had been quiet when Chloé had first landed on her balcony, polite in the way she handled the situation and Chloé’s injury, but she had still felt like she had made a mistake by coming here, like she was an unwanted outsider seeing something she had no right to witness. She still felt like she had been given access to something precious, something she shouldn’t know, but as soon as Marinette had caught Chloé staring and their conversation had truly started, Marinette lit up.

Chloé had known the other girl’s fashion sense was almost as good as her own, but she hadn’t realized Marinette was this talented. The smile that had overtaken Marinette’s face while she went through page after page of concepts and pieces she had already made, had frozen Chloé in place. The Marinette that sat next to Chloé on the rooftop, the one who’s passion was a palpable force, was one that Chloé had never had the pleasure of experiencing, and now that she had she realized she never wanted it to stop.

From the beginning of their conversation, Chloé’s chest had been growing warmer. The feeling was different from the burning embarrassment that had ripped through her after falling onto Marinette’s roof. The heat had started low, barely noticeable as she sat in Marinette’s presence, but as the other girl had smiled and listened as they discussed Marinette’s designs, the heat had grown into the overwhelming blaze it was now. Chloé was sure that her face was completely red by this point, that somehow the heat in her chest had spread everywhere and consumed her.

It was getting harder and harder to focus on the conversation at hand, Chloé’s mind drifting to why she was suddenly feeling this way. Her traitorous body was going to calm down, so she could finish her first normal conversation, whatever warmth she was feeling could wait until after she had a good night with Marinette. Attempting to shove all thoughts other than fashion from her mind, Chloé refocused into the conversation in time for Marinette to introduce her newest outfit series. Outfits inspired by the heroes of Paris.

Most of the outfits followed the colour scheme or style of Ladybug and Chat Noir, though there were at least a few for the other heroes that had made appearances. Rena Rouge appeared to have the most for the temporary heroes, and there was even one that appeared to draw reference from Queen Bee, which Chloé felt was a little undeserved. But there, in the bottom corner, was an outfit that had her name neatly written below. Marinette had included Khelone in her collection. Marinette had designed something with her in mind, the hero that was actually doing something good. Slowly drawing her eyes up to Marinette’s face, Chloé found herself on the receiving end of a soft, seemingly unsure, smile.

Oh. Oh.

The heat made itself impossible to ignore as it became a fire in her chest, burning her from the inside out in a searing flash. Chloé realized in that brief moment that she would do anything for Marinette’s smile, and in turn the girl herself. The fire wasn’t just her body betraying her, it was her heart realizing why she had wanted so badly to exist in Marinette’s life, in some small positive way for once. She liked Marinette. She had fallen head first, literally, into a crush on the girl who she has been a brat to for years. Chloé was screwed.

After stammering out some kind of compliment, Chloé abruptly stood, her smile feeling shaky and nervous even to herself. “I just realized the time. I’m really sorry for taking up so much of your time, but your drawings were amazing.” Beginning to shakily make her way to the railing, Chloé paused. “And sorry for dropping in like this.” Oh god, she could never tell Chat that she had used a pun, especially since she had done it in front of her newfound crush in the middle of the worst escape attempt she had ever made in her life.

Fortunately for her, Marinette let out a brief, light laugh before resting her head in her hand and smirking at Chloé. “Feel free to drop by again.”

If Chloé would be asked to describe her departure, she would be forced to lie. She would call it graceful, a simple climb onto the railing, a confident smile over her shoulder, before jumping off into the night. In truth, one glance at Marinette’s smirk had her stumble into the railing, face aflame, as she leapt into the night in her best imitation of a panicked animal.

It was until she was back in her room at the hotel, face first into her pillow, Wayzz sitting in her back and gently touching her shoulder as she complained, that she recalled what Marinette had said. Feel free to drop by again, despite her embarrassment at everything she had done since her realization, she couldn’t help the beaming smile that she gave her pillow. Marinette wants to see me again. I can just visit Marinette now, and talk to her. She would have to prepare of course, there was no way she was going to fall onto the balcony ever again, and she needed to prep herself to be on the receiving end of another one of Marinette’s soft smiles, but she was elated. Maybe she could even work up the nerve to talk to Marinette at school. That was a tomorrow problem though, for now, she was going to tell Wayzz absolutely everything about the way Marinette had looked while showing her the outfit, and then she was going to need him to calm her down enough that he can help her learn how to deal with having a crush on someone who turned her into an actual mess with one smile.

While they were at it, maybe Wayzz could listen as she talked her way through her feelings so she could find out if this crush was something new, or if it had always been there and she was just terrible at recognizing her own feelings.

[maxthommusic]

Lost In Translation -- 20 years later

*SPOILERS AHEAD*

Last night I watched “Lost In Translation” for the first time since high school. Film came out in 2003, I saw it the first time around 2007, last viewing somewhere between 2008 and 2009. At the time I found it to be a transcendent piece of arthouse cinema that felt more like a meditation than the comedy it had been marketed as. My lust for Japan became practically carnal while watching it in my parent’s basement and the soundtrack really left an imprint too. Overall, it captured my imagination and having a positive opinion of it put me in good artistic company -- a critical darling, my tastes were in-line with the best reviewers in the biz. 

But fast-forwarding to 2021, nearly 20 years since its release, does Sofia Coppola’s masterpiece still resonate? Is the muted, nuanced storytelling still deft and beautiful?

The simple answer is “yes.” For its 100 minute runtime, “Lost In Translation” is poetry in motion. It’s the rare gem of a film that made sense to me as a teenager, but makes different sense as an adult. The film has managed to grow with me and its meanings change depending which lens you cast upon it. Before, it was a trip into a land I did not know-- a place I wanted to visit desperately. And it was a tale of romance that was mature and grown-up-- something, too, I’d like to feel one day. Yet being much older now, “Lost In Translation” is a nostalgia trip. I understand the character of Bob Harris (Bill Murray) very acutely and empathize with his frustrations, complications and general ennui. I feel like I’ve met Charlotte (Scarlett Johansson) in my life before; permutations of her that have drifted in and out of my consciousness. The scenes they share feel ripped from my life-- not that I’ve had a story similar to Bob & Charlotte, but when you live long enough, we’ve all been in those moments. Maybe it’s exploring somewhere new. Having a drink at the hotel bar. Feeling empty and going in search of meaning. Feeling lost and trying to drown out the idle noise. In this way, “Lost In Translation” is timeless because it’s a beacon for those seeking comfort, yet its a time capsule for those who have lived it. Which seems like cheating in a way-- of course that’s what happens when your two leads have an age disparity. But the subtle intimacy of their time together could only ever make sense because of the age difference. And in that way, the story told feels like essential viewing. 

There were several moments in “Lost” that commanded my attention-- nuances in Ms. Johansson and Mr. Murray’s performances that gave me pause. Again, as you get older, you pick up on social cues not present to you as a teenager. There are looks, body gestures, choices of words that Charlotte says that communicate so, so much more than was written in the script. Bob, too. His phone calls with his wife are heart-breaking. If you’ve ever struggled in a serious relationship with someone and they’ve been at any sort of distance, you’ve felt the way Bob has. And Mr. Murray captures this keenly. 

Something I love about the film is the injection of Japanese culture. For Charlotte it’s something almost feared-- she can’t see the beauty in it. She intellectually knows she should be moved and exhilarated, but it’s just not happening. Something feels dead inside her. And Bob is annoyed by their customs. He’s struggling to connect with the language barrier, though this may be because he’s hardly trying. Yet when Bob and Charlotte really start to find each other, the city comes alive. Sights that were mystifying are now grounding; food that was strange is now a welcome bounty; pleasantries that were obtrusive become delightful. And it’s because Japan is so tightly connected to its heritage and traditions, that we get a culture that can be the perfect backdrop for this sort of film.

One of the opening scenes is Bob exchanging business cards with everyone. It seems a little overbearing and is meant to be a comedic exchange, but there’s a way of doing everything in Japan. Bob is literally met with this style of thinking immediately upon arriving at his hotel and as his trip transforms through the course of the film, you find him embracing these little moments because he has the ability to find the beauty in them. Charlotte, too, is able to visit shrines, partake in Ikebana, and wander aimlessly, looking for adventure. Her ability to weave in and out of modern and ancient Japan on a whim lends itself incredibly well to her existential searching and provides the viewer with numerous, starkly different backdrops for which this story unfolds. Bob and Charlotte’s ability to mostly speak English makes Tokyo feel not so particularly foreign, but simply strange. Which I think grounds Bob and Charlotte’s relationship. They’re not somewhere so different that their lives are up-turned. They’re somewhere just different enough that everything is a little bit uncomfortable. Setting the film in Japan translates that discomfort perfectly.

By the time we reach the end and Bob and Charlotte have “found each other,” their separation is still, to this day, heart breaking. Them meeting in the lobby and not really feeling comfortable sharing their true emotions is pure pageantry. Bob getting the stroke of luck to find Charlotte on the street is kismet, the universe at work binding these two together. Their kisses are affectionate, romantic, but not necessarily sexual. They truly care for one another, on a level of necessity, not desire. Charlotte turning around as Bob clutches her arm, tears in her eyes-- you didn’t need to write any words. Johansson and Murray play the ending out sublimely. Coppola’s restraint is a master stroke.

The truth is, I could rave endlessly about this film. Nearly every scene is full of wonder. I’ve always been curious what my favorite film of all-time is (if that’s even a possible designation) and I have to think now that it might be “Lost In Translation.” Merely because it’s stood the test of time. 20 years have passed and it still holds up. 20 years later and I’m just as impressed by this magnificent work of cinema. It’s colors, sights, sounds, messages, nuances-- they’re all pinging around in my head, dazzling my senses, piquing my curiosity. It’s such a lovely film. To which I believe there is one short-term solution and one long-term: time to spin the OST today and start looking at flights to Tokyo.

[atinytokki]

Across the Night

ii. Doljeon

Up until this point in his life, Seonghwa had always been considered a model child, at least by those who didn’t know about his afternoon exploits in the city.

He was well-behaved, intelligent, and all around an excellent choice in companionship.

But he was risking it all for a single chance at success that wasn’t even his.

“It will be fine,” he whispered to himself, closing the door behind him as quietly as possible. “No one will notice a thing.”

Mother was still at the palace while the sun was setting and the royal painting was beginning, and right now she was the greatest threat to Seonghwa’s plan.

They had it all figured out. Chan was staying home to cover for Chaeyoung’s absence, and Donghyun’s parents were out at some social event cozying up to lords and noblemen.

Seonghwa’s mother was the foremost obstacle, and if she spotted them in the Great Hall, it was over.

The trio met and silently made their way into town. The fountain wasn’t running at the moment with the bright pink and violet painted across the sky indicating the quick arrival of nighttime, but the rest of Doljeon was alive.

The market smelled like springtime. Fresh fruits in the stalls, bouquets in the flower stands, the newest fashion styles displayed in shop windows. Seonghwa’s gaze lingered on a stuffed rabbit toy before he remembered what he was supposed to be doing.

Palace infiltration. A very grown-up thing.

“Where’s that servant entrance you were talking about?” Chaeyoung whispered, poking him in the arm and stopping to look up at the formidable palace gates.

The iron was moulded in a beautifully delicate shape, but the gate was connected to the famous stone wall, imbued with all kinds of traditional symbols of power and patrolled continuously by the palace guards.

“Um... I think it’s this way,” Seonghwa gulped and broke off to the side, following a shaded side path around the side of the complex.

“Here we are,” he sighed when they were about halfway.

“But...” Donghyun gave him a look. “I thought you said the side entrance takes you into the palace!”

“I haven’t actually been there myself!” Seonghwa hissed back, stepping back to get a look at the palace through the plum blossom trees.

“There is an entrance!” Chaeyoung pointed out excitedly, grabbing Seonghwa’s hand and moving him so he was pointing to it. “You just have to get into the courtyard... over the wall.”

The wall wasn’t excessively tall, only about the size of a grown adult male, probably because the ancient kings who built it wanted their glorious palace to be visible.

The three stood there in contemplative silence and tried to contrive a solution to their problem.

“How do you think we’re doing on time?” Seonghwa timidly asked.

“He should be done in the next five to ten minutes,” Donghyun reported from experience. “Assuming he started on time and the princes sat still.”

“I’ve got it!” Chaeyoung suddenly yelled, quieting to a whisper when hushed. “I’ll boost you two over the wall. You’ll have to leave me here, but I’ll wait here until you’re finished in case you need help getting back over.”

“But I’m stronger,” Seonghwa pouted. “Let me do the boosting.”

“Well, I’m taller,” Chaeyoung shot back and Seonghwa couldn’t help but stick out his tongue at the unnecessary brag. “And besides, this was your idea. You’ve got to help Donghyun get the artist’s attention.”

“Master artist,” Donghyun corrected quickly, earning an eye roll. “Alright, let’s go.”

Chaeyoung was both strong and tall enough to boost both boys over the wall, squeezing Seonghwa’s hand once for luck before he disappeared to the other side.

“Quickly!” Seonghwa urged Donghyun forward and into the servants’ entrance just as a pair of guards rounded the corner.

They hadn’t been seen.

“If you haven’t been here before, how are you supposed to know where the Great Hall is?” Donghyun asked, a logical concern, but Seonghwa shushed him and listened carefully to the surrounding noises before pulling him to one direction.

“Listen for the audience.”

“Courtiers!” Donghyun gasped in realisation. “Wherever they are, the royal family is. And wherever the royal family is, Master Kwangsuk is.”

“Have you got your painting?” Seonghwa asked as they moved quickly past some kitchen workers. It was probably beneficial that they looked like a pair of faceless servant boys.

Donghyun nodded and clutched his canvas tighter. It was small, but it was his best work yet and if anything was going to impress the master, this would be it.

They waited in a grand hall for the session to be finished and Seonghwa couldn’t help but look around in awe. The ceilings were high and vaulted, ornately decorated with so many meaningful tiles of various colours that he could stare for hours at the stories they told without getting bored.

When he peeked into the throne room, his gaze landed not on the pillars or the gold overlays but the family sitting there in their most regal attire, posing for the master. The younger prince, the one who was Seonghwa’s age, wasn’t present. He wondered in passing how he could miss such an important event.

There was still something familiar in their faces, and though Seonghwa had never seen them before in person, he felt that he knew them.

A moment later, Master Kwangsuk stood and showed them his painting, and then once the impressive portrait was taken to be displayed and the customary farewells had been finished, he packed up his art supplies and walked towards the pair.

“Now’s your chance!” Seonghwa whispered, excited, and pushed Donghyun in the direction of the older man.

Startled, Donghyun failed to control his momentum and went barrelling into the artist, brushes and paint cans rolling every which way.

“I’m so sorry!” He stuttered, scrambling to help pick things up, and blushing when Kwangsuk’s eyes fell on his own painting, mixed up with the other materials.

“Well, this isn’t mine,” The artist hummed knowingly, glancing it over before handing it back to the boy and standing to leave.

Uh oh.

Donghyun was missing his chance...

“It-It’s a self portrait!” Donghyun called after him, following him a few steps until he turned around for a second look.

“Indeed,” Kwangsuk admitted, tilting his head and observing the painting more shrewdly. “The lighting is so weak, it’s quite unconventional...”

“I painted it in the dark,” Donghyun admitted, a bit more defensively than he meant to. “My parents don’t approve, I have to work at night.”

Kwangsuk looked up from the portrait to its artist. 

“I’ve been entertaining potential apprentices all day,” he admitted. “I had yet to see anything particularly meaningful until your portrait. What do you say to calling on your parents and changing their minds?”

Donghyun looked so happy Seonghwa couldn’t help but smile and clap his hands, before noticing the royal family exiting the throne room with his mother in tow.

Quickly, he ducked behind a curtain. 

It was probably his cue to leave. Donghyun was in Kwangsuk’s care now and Chaeyoung was still waiting at the wall.

Without incident, he made his way back, climbing some crates stacked near the inside of the wall and sliding down the tiles that adorned the top. 

“How did it go?” Chaeyoung whispered, helping him down. 

“They’re going to convince his parents!” Seonghwa laughed, taking her hands in his and spinning them around. “There’s no way they’ll refuse when the most esteemed artist in the country is vouching for him!”

They walked home together the long way, hyperactive and full of energy from their thrilling adventure.

When Seonghwa said his goodbyes and let himself into the house, he was shocked to see his mother had apparently beat him.

“Oh! Mother...” he laughed awkwardly, closing the door behind him. 

“Don’t bother with excuses, I saw Donghyun,” she said sharply, kicking out the seat across from her and motioning him to sit. “You do everything together.”

Seonghwa sighed and flopped into the chair. He was in for the scolding of his life.

“Now that you’ve been to the palace, I can’t put off telling you any longer.”

“Telling me... what?”

“Sit down. There’s something you should know.”

...

A/N: Sorry it’s been ages without updating this one, but don’t worry it’ll pick up momentum soon. It’s going to be one of the more exciting spinoffs actually but shh you didn’t hear that from me... Leave some love and have a nice day :)

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[arenee1999]

The Consistency of The Doctor

Beware: Wall-of-Text (huge wall-of-text) and my thoughts on (and how I view) The Doctor and the regenerations.

Also massive Classic Who spoilers in case anyone cares. (There are some things I’m glad I didn’t know before I started watching it) And a non-specific spoiler for Spyfall part 2.

As fans of Doctor Who we put a lot of our focus on favorite or least favorite incarnation of The Doctor or The Master, favorite and least favorite companions. We sometimes lose sight of the show as a whole and that even though the Doctor has many different faces, it is the same character.

My first introduction to Doctor Who was in 2005 with the revival. I saw the commercial with Chris Eccleston proclaiming it to be “the trip of a lifetime” and I knew I had to watch it, I was hooked from that moment before it ever aired. I watched Nine and Ten and halfway through series 4 I decided it was time to go back and actually watch Classic Who. I started at the beginning with An Unearthly Child and worked my way forward and also watching all the new episodes as they aired. Life got in the way, while I kept up with the new episodes I had to put my Classic Who watching on hold. I had made it through season 13 before I had to stop. Rather recently I picked it up again. I now only have the Eighth Doctor movie and the Peter Cushing movies left to go and they’ll have to wait a few months.

Through all of this I came to realize, my “favorite doctor” tends to be whichever version I’m currently watching. I do have a ranking order, those that if I want to watch a random episode I’m most likely to gravitate to. Versions that resonate deeply within me for various reasons. My list is very much opposite from the majority of fandom and that’s ok. We shouldn’t all like the exact same things. How boring would that be?! (I do wish I could move on to the Big Finish audios, but there’s so many and they all cost money that I don’t have. I’m also very hard of hearing and tend to get lost in the sound of peoples voices and not be able to concentrate on what they’re saying.)

When I finished Survival, about a week ago, and then watched Spyfall just a few days later I really stopped to think about the different regenerations of the Doctor (and the Master but mostly the Doctor). If you pay attention, you can see the frame of mind the Doctor was in when he regenerated each time and see the threads that tie all the versions together. The First Doctor started out overly arrogant, cold and a bit of a bully. But he had had little interaction with anyone except other Time Lords at that point. Through his three seasons (sadly most of which are missing) he does tone down the arrogance and coldness a bit towards his companions but doesn’t have the right personality to really be friendly to them. When he regenerates we get Two, who is gregarious and happy. Two regenerates after having his companions stripped from him and his mind wiped. Consequently Three is reserved and focused on science. He is surrounded by friends, including multiple clashes with the Master (they’re best friends as well as enemies), throughout this regeneration without any truly dark stretches, which lets him regenerate into the fun loving Four. The Fourth Doctor spends the majority of his reign happy, even when he gets blisteringly angry it only lasts a short time before he’s smiling again. He regenerates while facing the Master and we get Five. The Fifth Doctor has an innocence about him, is softhearted and kind. At least, he is until Adric’s death. Then we see him close himself off a bit, become short-tempered and prickly. Cue the Sixth Doctor who has a porcupine exterior wrapped around himself as protection against being hurt but still has a soft center, if you can handle being stung multiple times in order to reach it. He’s bristly and sarcastic, some of his superior attitude shows through again but he still cares about his companions, you can see the anguish when he’s told Peri is dead and the sheer relief when he finds out it was a lie. He regenerates into Seven, who is once again softer and kinder but still with a rather large thread of steel running through him. If you’re paying attention you will see where Ten’s “Time Lord Victorious” attitude comes from. Eight (while I’ve not seen all of it, I have seen some) has the rough edges from Six all worn away. Seven was largely happy and carefree without massive trauma, which makes Eight more relaxed and softer. His growth and change happens in the audios :( but we see how and why he changes into the War Doctor. Who then turns into Nine. The Ninth Doctor is angry and broken after the Time War. He re-learns to see the beauty and the wonder of the universe through the eyes of Rose. Ten is happy and optimistic and full of energy, until he loses Rose. He never quite gets over that, there’s always a bit of melancholy running through him from that point and having to wipe Donna’s memory just exacerbates the problem. But when he knows he’s regenerating he visits his companions and sees them happy. He sees Donna getting married. He sees Rose smiling just months before their first meeting. So we get Eleven, who is a mix of exuberance and caution. He’s capable of insane highs and doleful pensiveness. When he regenerates it’s a special circumstance, because it shouldn’t have been able to happen. But he was given a complete new regeneration cycle. Twelve is a complete blank slate. He has no social skills, he doesn’t remember who or what he is even. When the memories return and all that loss hits him at once, he wraps himself in layers of armour as protection and lets the social ineptitude be his excuse for a myriad of sins. But Clara was already under the armour before he donned it and she shows him how to trust and care again. Which is why he nearly tears the universe apart to keep her alive and why he had to be the one to lose his memories of her. Then he spends 24 years with River on Darillium, finds Bill and loses her in the most horrific way and because of the machinations of the Master, no less. But before he regenerates his memories of Clara are returned and he knows Bill is happy with the final choice she made. (as an aside, we see bits of every previous Doctor in Twelve during his seasons, and it’s glorious) Which brings us to Thirteen. She is outwardly friendly, she is kind and optimistic but she is also reserved and reticent about sharing much about herself. And now she’s been hit with the Master’s actions to Gallifrey. I’m not sure I really want to know what is so bad, so horrific, it crosses over the Masters moral compass. And it better be horrific, if it’s not I will lose any ability to take Chris Chibnall serious as a writer or showrunner for Doctor Who.

I don’t really expect anyone to agree with my take, but maybe my view can give you a new way to look at the Doctor. Maybe a way to find the common threads through the regenerations. Maybe instead of blaming the actors for bad episodes or seasons, blame the weak scripts, the scripts with plot holes large enough to cram Jupiter through. The actors did (have done and are doing) brilliantly and can only work with the material they’re given. They’ve kept the Doctor consistent, even when it doesn’t seem like it at first glance.

[karasluthqr]

Twin Flames

As we all know, the season 14 finale of cm was an absolute disaster so I took it upon myself to write a lil fix it fic for the writers. This is how it should have happened. I hope you all like it! Enjoy!!

Spencer Reid has always had feelings for Jennifer Jareau, but he had resigned to the fact that they would never be more than just friends a long time ago. And that had been more than good enough for him. He had no desire to be in a romantic relationship with Jennifer, not in any sense of the word. He valued their friendship far more than the miniscule residual feelings he still held for her. Feelings that were locked away in one of his twelve imagined futures. Another one which stored his feelings for Derek Morgan. And one that played out the future he would’ve had with Maeve. His imagined futures were how he coped with his losses. Although he was a man who relied heavily on logic, he deviated from the, at times, faulty realism that defined him through his manufactured alternate realities.

The confession their UNSUB had forced out of JJ at gunpoint the previous day had left the doctor feeling shocked and even more confused. He replayed her words over and over in his mind.

“Spence, I-um-I’ve always loved you. And I was just too scared to say it before. And now things are just really too complicated to say it now.”

He couldn’t make sense of it. He analyzed every hesitation and hitch in her tone, every pause and avoidance of eye contact. He searched his memory desperately for clues that would lead him to some sort of reasonable explanation for the whimsical confession of love she had given, but he came up empty.

There were never any indications of JJ having such feelings for him. She brought Garcia on their “date” to the Redskins game fourteen years ago, and ever since, the two of them had fallen into a older sister-younger brother sort of rhythm. When Jennifer met Will, she didn’t give a glance in his direction nor did she express any hesitations to him. Spencer was the godfather of her sons! He and JJ; they were best friends. They looked out for each other. They loved each other, yes, but they didn’t love each other.

Spencer’s ability to remember every interaction he’d ever shared with someone rarely failed him, and Jennifer Jareau wasn’t fooling him this time. She’s always loved him? No, it wasn’t plausible.

_________________

Spencer was no longer listening to the conversation between Garcia, Tara, and Luke. He must’ve tuned out sometime after agreeing to dance with Penelope later on. His eyes were trained on JJ, studying her movements, facial expressions, and behavioral cues. Will was glued to her side as the couple made conversation with Matt and Kristy. Nothing in particular stood out to Spencer as peculiar other than JJ’s tense posture and the stiff grin she had plastered onto her face. But Spencer knew those observations could just as well be because of the awkward situation her confession had created as much as it could be about the confession possibly holding some truth.

His brow quirked with interest when Emily walked in, passing Matt and Kristy without so much as an acknowledgement and made a beeline to JJ. The smile that lit JJ’s face as Emily entered her line of sight triggered the profiler within him. He adjusted his slumped posture, straightening out his back. The wide grin that wore Jennifer’s face was the first genuine smile he’d seen from his friend since the consternation fueling events of the day before. Reid’s eyes narrowed in analyzation, determined to uncover the truth of JJ’s truth.

_________________

Spencer was unable to stave off the need he felt to watch JJ throughout the wedding ceremony. He picked up on the way JJ’s eyes followed Emily’s every move as she gave her toast, only looking away from their friend when she felt Will squeeze her hand at Emily’s mention of David and Krystall being “twin flames”. The look of, what could only be described as, shame that crossed her features as she forced a weak smile at her husband, only served to further peak Spencer’s interest.

Jennifer looked up, her stormy blue eyes meeting his gaze, and the unmistakable guilt clouding them caused his heart to constrict. Only on a few occasions had Spencer been able to read Jennifer so clearly, so few he could probably recount all of them in less than a minute’s time. He may know her tell, but JJ was the master of masks. She had one for almost every occasion. A mother mask, a wife mask, a work mask, a social gathering mask, etc. Underneath all of those masks, hid Jennifer Jareau, and only a select few had the pleasure to know her.

_________________

Spencer was beginning to unravel Jennifer’s secret and the blonde agent could tell. The scrutinizing gaze she was under was unnerving and caused her skin to crawl. It felt as though Spencer was staring straight into her soul, undressing the emotions she’s been keeping micromanaged for over a decade. Having to keep her feelings for Emily undetectable to Reid’s perspicacious mind all these years had been one of the hardest things she’s ever had to do. He was the one she told everything to, but this one thing, she just couldn’t. Not even when her life was being threatened. It was too big, too risky. Jennifer had so much to lose, as did Emily. The brunette was just now settling into a real relationship with someone, and Andrew was such a great guy. She was finally moving on and finding her own happiness. JJ wouldn’t have been able to live with herself if she had ripped that away and given the older woman hope once again for something that could never happen.

So she’d lied. And she was disgusted with herself for it.

JJ didn’t know exactly where Spencer’s feelings for her stood now, but she did know that once upon a time, he had something of a crush on her. Shortly after the Redskins game, the thought had slowly faded to the back of everyone’s mind, and it wasn’t brought to the forefront until just a few months ago, during their phone conversation about “imagined futures” and the revelation that he had twelve. That’s when JJ had begun to wonder, if one of them involved her.

Jennifer selfishly took advantage of that possibility yesterday. She didn’t know if it was true or not, but something deep in her gut told her that her inkling wasn’t far off. And to save herself, her family, and Emily from the pain of a confession years too late to be told, she used it against him to save their lives. It was selfish, she knew, and her stomach churned with an overwhelming guilt every time she looked at him.

She needed to tell him she didn’t mean it.

_________________

“Can I have a water?” Spencer requested as he approached the bar. The bartender nodded and turned his back to retrieve the order, and he felt the presence of another person slide into the space next to him.

“Hey,” a certain blonde greeted, trying with a little too much effort to sound casual. “So I-I didn’t get a chance to say it back there, but thank you for saving my life.”

There it was. The first genuine thing JJ had said to him in twenty four hours, sixteen minutes and fourteen seconds.

“You’re welcome.”

The tension between the two friends was nearly suffocating. Interactions between them had never been so uncomfortable. A sadness pulled at Spencer’s heart; things weren’t supposed to be this way between them, and part of him feared that things would never be able to return to the way they were before. Change had never been Spence’s strong suit.

Spencer embodied JJ’s discomfort as if it were his own. The way she couldn’t hold eye contact with him for more than a couple seconds at a time told him that whatever Jennifer had come up to tell him was weighing heavily on her subconscious.

“You okay?” He prompted, wanting to get her talking.

“Yeah,” the older woman breathed. Although she obviously wasn’t. “But Luke was right, though. Two guns, huh?” Jennifer’s tried smile wavered insecurely as she attempted to strike up a casual conversation and act as though the lie she’d conjured up the previous day hadn’t possibly caused permanent damage to their relationship. Spencer tilted his head and narrowed his eyes at her, unbelieving. “How long have you been wearing an ankle holster?”

“Around the time I got out of prison,” he answered shortly but still in his usual gentle tone. Spencer hoped she would catch on to the fact that he didn’t want to make awkward small talk; he wanted to have a conversation about what had transpired the day before.

“Right.”

Silence fell between the old friends for a painful few moments. Neither one looked at the other, only staring straight ahead and praying this mess could somehow magically fix itself.

“Look, so, um, what I said back there..” JJ broke the silence. She needed to clear the air; the tension that congested it was squeezing hers out of her lungs. “I, uh, I needed to say something that would get his attention, and I needed to say something that would get your attention, so you know, I just needed to throw him off balance-”

“Jennifer,” Spencer cut off the blonde’s ramble with the use of her full name. It was proven to be effective when needing to grab the woman’s attention.

_________________

JJ stilled. Spencer only called her ‘Jennifer’ when it was serious. Was he calling her bluff? Did he already know she lied, or did he think she actually meant it? Had she led him on like she had feared?

Apprehensive of the emotion she would find swirling around in his hazel eyes, the blonde hesitated before raising her gaze to meet his. What she saw: a challenging glare. It puzzled her; she was unable to detect any sort of emotion in his eyes. No anxiety, no guilt, no hope, no nothing. Just a challenging stare, like this whole mess of a situation was some sort of game to him.

“Truth or dare?”

The bluntness of his question momentarily startled JJ. A slight feeling of panic rose from her stomach at Spencer’s use of the question that had been spat in her face as she stared down the barrel of a gun just twenty four hours prior. She inhaled a calming breath to settle it.

As the feeling of dread began to dissipate, she noticed Spencer’s glare had eased from its previous challenge to a softer curiosity. He stared at her like she was a case, and she knew then that she hadn’t led him on. Spence wasn’t challenging her; he wanted her to tell him the truth.

He deserved to know; she knew that. She had played with his emotions in the most deceptive way yesterday. She’d already lied to him about Emily once before, and she’d nearly lost him because of it. But, this wasn’t the same thing. This would risk Will and her boys, the family she’d built over the last twelve years. This would risk Emily’s chance at finally moving on with her life and being happy with someone who was able to love her in the way that she deserved. This would risk the future of the team. Could she really risk all of that? Could she risk being responsible for the downfall of everyone she loves? Granted, it would feel so, unbelievably good to finally get her deepest, most darkest secret off of her chest, even if it was to just one person. But could she do that to Spencer? Could she trust Spence with this?

Looking into the most gentle, hazel eyes gazing into her blues with genuine concern, JJ offered him a sad smile. Of course, she could. It was Spencer.

“Truth.”

The word scratched against the dryness of her throat like sandpaper.

_________________

“Did you mean it?” His sincere question came out more like an accusation. He watched her face intently, analyzing her reaction. Jennifer didn’t say anything, but from the way her lips twitched between the slightest smile and her big, blue eyes that remained full with the look of sadness and guilt he’d observed in them since the confession, Spencer knew. She didn’t mean it. A wave of relief flooded over the younger agent. Now, he just hoped she would tell him the truth.

Spencer noticed her mouth adjust, preparing to open for speech, but before JJ could get a word out, they were interrupted by the one specific brunette that, unbeknownst to Spencer and JJ, was at the forefront of both of their minds.

Spencer Reid stood witness to the interaction that solidified his suspicion. He surveilled, with curious eyes, Emily Prentiss reach out and place her hand on JJ’s upper arm.

“Guys, they’re about to cut the cake.”

It was hard to miss. The way JJ’s shoulders dropped, releasing their tension at the older woman’s touch and how her entire face lit up with a radiant glow as she acknowledged her presence. Her blue eyes became a shade lighter and there was a noticeable sparkle to them. A sparkle he hadn’t seen in her eyes for a time that was exceeding far too long. Her gaze followed their Unit Chief as she began to walk away, the luminous smile still firm on her lips. It was very hard to miss indeed.

Spencer began to walk away. His suspicion had been confirmed, and it ran far deeper than he’d originally assessed. He no longer felt the need to pressure his friend into admitting it out loud as he now understood, it would be far too painful.

He felt a hand press firmly against his chest, pushing him back before he could get away.

“J-just,” Jennifer stuttered. Spencer retreated back to the spot he’d been standing in just a few moments before. “I-”

Spencer looked down at JJ with empathy as she pushed her blonde locks behind her ears. The distress that wracked her petite form was blatant and he understood what she was feeling all too well. He’d been there before.

“It’s okay,” he whispered earnestly to the woman before him. She had her finger curled and pressed against her lips, as if she was preventing something from tumbling out. She looked up at him, her eyes large and filled with hope for the possible relief of her secret tormentation. “Everything’s okay.”

JJ nodded.

“Yeah?” Her tone was quizzical, but he understood her hesitation. He knew how important it was for her that no one else could ever find out about what she felt for Emily. She’d risked her life, and his, with a lie to protect it. Spencer knew her questioning tone wasn’t just for him to assure her that her secret was safe with him, but that he understood how incredibly, and truly, remorseful she was for the selfish act. And he did. Because he’d done it before. When Cat Adams wanted him to admit a truth about himself that no one knew. But what she had wanted from him, it wasn’t a truth, so he’d had to lie, knowing that if he didn’t sell it, his mother would be killed. JJ was there with him the whole way. He understood.

_________________

Spencer nodded his assurance before he cleared his throat, composing himself for the verbalization of the confirmation that had just occurred.

“I know you meant what you said,” Spencer articulated, his utterance barely above a whisper. He was deliberate in making sure there was no way either of the two people standing just a few yards away would be able to overhear.

JJ’s brows drew together, a look of confusion crossing over her face. They’d just verified that she hadn’t meant it, unless some sort of severe miscommunication had just transpired.

“You just didn’t mean to say it to me.”

JJ’s heart stopped beating in her chest. Her breath caught in the back of her throat and she was sure her entire face had fallen sheet white. She knew that Spence knew. It was just the verbalization of it that threw her completely off quilter.

Spencer’s gaze flickered to the brunette standing next to the southern detective, and Jennifer followed his gaze. Her eyes landed on the two people she loved most, just one in a different way than the other. And the one that she could never have.

“Spence,” JJ choked on his name as she turned her back on the ones she felt she was betraying. The mascara coated rims of her eyes began to sting as tears welled in them. She felt an unbearable need to explain herself, to explain the string of questionable decisions she’d made over the last twelve years.

“Jennifer, it’s okay,” he soothed. The shame and the guilt oozed from her pores, and an agonizing need to comfort his suffering friend rose to the surface. She stared past him with pursed lips as her right hand gripped at her upper left arm. All were signs of the blonde trying desperately to maintain her composure, so Spencer made the quick decision to change the topic. “I know how you feel.”

JJ’s eyes snapped to his, bewilderment flashing onto her previously anguished features. He could read the question in her eyes. ‘What are you talking about? Who are you talking about?’

Spencer swallowed. Like Jennifer, his confession was something he had never shared with anyone before, not even his best friend.

“You might know him,” his voice was hoarse, sounding like he’d just finished screaming at the top of his lungs at a concert. The thought almost made JJ chuckle; Spence at a concert. The reality was that it was just nerves. It was the first time he was admitting to having an attraction for men out loud. “He got married two years, eleven months and ten days ago.”

Recognition flashed in JJ’s eyes as the understanding of who Spencer was referring to settled in. Derek. She tilted her head to the side as his gaze fell to the floor. He’d spent years grappling with his sexuality and a part of him, a large part, though he hated to admit it, still harbored feelings of shame regarding his attraction towards the same sex. Little did he know, JJ felt the exact same.

Jennifer was surprised to find herself feeling somewhat blase about Spencer’s revelation. She’d never actively considered Spencer being bisexual but she’d never outwardly denied the possibility either.

JJ recognized the familiar look of shame that wore Spencer’s downward tilted face, and it dawned on her that this was likely the first time he’d ever admitted this to someone. Momentarily forgetting about her own similar, and much more dire, predicament, JJ felt a sense of pride well up in her chest for Spencer’s courage to do what she never had. And what she now couldn’t.

She reached forward, grasping Spencer’s hand in her own. He lifted his gaze to hers when he felt her hand on top of his. She gave it a tight squeeze, hoping that it would be able to convey how proud she was of him for just being himself.

The corner of Spencer’s mouth twitched to form half a grin. His eyes shone with gratitude for her acceptance, although he never doubted for a second that she wouldn’t. Jennifer returned a tight lipped smile, her eyes shining with gratitude for the same yet entirely different reasons. For accepting her, but also for understanding the decision she made yesterday, and for being willing to aid in maintaining her long-held secret.

The reminder of her current predicament extinguished the heartwarming exchange between her and Spence as the gratitude on her face was once again replaced by sadness and guilt. JJ pulled her hand away from his and ran it over her face as she released a heavy sigh. Spencer’s frown and worry-filled eyes returned at the sudden change in demeanor.

Sparing a quick glance over her shoulder reminded JJ where they were and where they were supposed to be. Rossi’s wedding. Cutting the cake.

Spencer watched with concern for his friend as she walked away. He felt a pang in his chest when JJ glanced briefly at Emily before resuming her position at Will’s side, wrapping her arm around his neck and hugging him close. Spencer didn’t think it could get any worse, knowing JJ was in love with someone she could never be with. That was until he observed Emily cast a glance at the blonde behind her and the strained grin that she’d become accustomed to force after so many years. It would go undetected by many, but Spencer was able to pick up on the hint of despondency in her expression. His heart shattered with empathy for Emily as he found himself relating to his friend, reliving the heartache of watching Derek fall in love with Savannah, get married, and have little Hank.

If only JJ hadn’t met Will twelve years ago, maybe things would have been different. Maybe Jennifer would smile that smile that made her eyes sparkle much more frequently. His heart ached for his friends that missed their shot with one another. Now all that remained were the ‘what if’s and the if only’s’.

Spencer Reid and Jennifer Jareau really were twin flames.

[moonlightmadnessreviews]

Child’s Play (2019): Chucky Come Lately, The New Kid in Town

We’re coming up on a month since the release of Orion Pictures’ Child’s Play remake. In the lead up to the polarizing release, there were two very different teams drawn up: you were either Team Good Guy, or Team Buddi. If you were the former, it was thought you were an elitist, unable to see past your love for the original and too closed minded to admit you were even a little curious as to how the new movie would turn out. If you wore the latter team’s jersey, you were part of what is wrong with horror today, ready to gobble up corporate studio schlock even if it means trampling all over the original. At a time when a remake is announced every other week, I want to discuss why it’s okay to root for the home town hero, while also being curious about what the rookie has to offer.

Child’s Play was originally released in 1988, having been written and directed by Tom Holland from a story by Don Mancini, produced by David Kirschner and distributed by MGM. The film was a hit, drawing enough at the box office to spawn six sequels, and the cult following was immediately under the spell of the pint sized, Voodoo practicing antagonist, Charles Lee Ray. I recently turned 30, and it wasn’t until I was in my early teens that I realized the original trilogy was called Child’s Play and not Chucky, as I’d always referred to the movies. Brad Dourif plays Chicago serial killer Charles Lee Ray, The Lakeshore Strangler. After he’s chased into a toy store and fatally wounded by Detective Mike Norris (Chris Sarandon), Chucky transfers his soul into the body of a Good Guy Doll. The rest of the movie follows Chucky and the first person he reveals his identity to, a six year old boy named Andy Barclay (Alex Vincent), as Chucky murders his way through babysitters, old accomplices and Voodoo mentors! All the while, Chucky preys on Andy’s innocence, telling him they’re “Friends til the end!” simply to make it easier for him to transfer his soul into Andy’s body.

This set up was, and still is, perfect! For much of the movie, Chucky is a stoic rubber doll, resembling one of the Cabbage Patch Dolls that were so popular in the 1980s. It’s clear to see how excited Andy is when he gets the doll as a birthday present, and you feel genuine fear for the kid knowing there’s the soul of a serial killer trapped inside his new best friend! I would give anything to travel back in time to sit in the theater on opening night and experience the moment Chucky finally reveals his true nature to Andy’s Mom! What may seem silly to us now must have made for an awesome group experience in that theater, especially considering the amazing animatronics and Dourif’s fantastic voice over work, his animalistic aggression striking fear into children for years after.

For all the praise we can give Chucky and the lore his movies built up, they did become somewhat formulaic, but Chucky and pals had solidified themselves in the minds and memories of millions. It’s easy to see why fans were hesitant, and confused, when the remake was announced. Some went as far as to write off the movie completely before even hearing what the changes would be. Well, as it turns out, the changes were pretty drastic, in part due to the legal issues of having a remake separate from the Mancini Chucky universe, soon to make a place for itself as a spin off TV show on the SyFy channel.

Child’s Play 2019 has brought Chucky and Andy into the era of asking someone for their WiFi password as soon as you walk through their door. The film is directed by Lars Klevberg (Polaroid) from a screenplay by Tyler Burton Smith (Kung Fury 2) and produced by David Katzenberg and Seth Grahame-Smith (IT, Chapter 1 and 2). In our post-Stranger Things world, Andy, played here by Gabriel Bateman (Lights Out), is no longer a six year old child but rather a young teen having trouble fitting in and making friends in his new neighborhood. His mom, Karen Barclay (Aubrey Plaza), is still a single mother working in retail, but the doll she brings home for Andy’s birthday is incredibly different due to the exclusion of one incredibly important character: Charles Lee Ray. Gone is the Voodoo. Gone is the Lakeshore Strangler. Gone is the voice! The new direction is daring to say the least.

In this version, Chucky is a WiFi capable, Cloud connected Buddi doll. As part of their use as an educational tool for children, Buddi dolls learn from their Best Buddies, picking up on their sense of humor, social cues and behaviors. Eventually Buddi could help you keep track of your calendar and even control climate setting in your home. Seems pretty cool, right? Well it would be, except Andy’s Buddi doll was hacked by a disgruntled factory worker who does away with Chucky’s limiters for language, violence, and seemingly even his free will.

What I feel works especially well in the new take is Chucky’s innocence at the start of the movie. A Buddi doll’s only mission is to imprint on their new owner and be the best friend this child could ever ask for. We get scenes of Andy and Chucky playing chess, hanging out, and even looking through scrap books of Andy’s art. Chucky takes a genuine interest in Andy and simply wants to be his Best Buddy, so when Andy is scratched by his mother’s cat, we get the first glimpses into Chucky’s unlocked potential for violence. He wants to punish anyone, or anything, that wishes Andy harm. Chucky hasn’t just imprinted, he is frighteningly obsessed.

One of my favorite scenes plays out as Andy, and his friends Falyn and Pugg (Beatrice Kitsos and Ty Consiglio, respectively) are watching a particularly brutal horror movie. I was genuinely giddy in the theater when the clips started to flash on screen, so I won’t spoil it here. This is where we see Chucky’s gears start to turn. Much like a child who may pick up on violent behavior they’re exposed to, Chucky sees Andy and his friends laughing at the outlandish violence on screen and decides to “entertain” them with a butcher knife.

Through out the course of the 90 minute run time, we see Andy struggling with how to control Chucky, now having gotten the wrong impression of violence and feeling rejected by his Best Buddy. The stakes are raised as Chucky becomes increasingly violent, seeking to please Andy at every turn only to make things worse, like a genie who twists their master’s words, making them sorry for not being more careful with their wishes. Come the third act, we can start to see hints of Chucky’s own fully formed personality, now having been twisted and deranged by the movies events.

This movie was more fun than I anticipated, and it even got my wife’s stamp of approval after I dragged her to the theater with me on opening night! Rather than try to be some incredibly bleak, super realistic take on the story, Child’s Play knew exactly what it was and went all out with the ridiculous concept. The movie’s R rating was also used to its full potential, and though most of the scares are pretty telegraphed, they shower you with so much blood and gore that you can’t help but laugh. Andy’s group of friends, though not nearly as charismatic or fun to watch as the cast of Stranger Things or 2017’s IT, really helped to give the movie some much needed warmth and heart. Brian Tyree Henry (Atlanta), who played this movie’s Detective Norris, also gave a great performance, balancing comedy and that detective bravado just right.

The standouts though were Gabriel Bateman and this movie’s Chucky, none other than Mark Hamill (Star Wars and The Joker in Batman The Animated Series, I mean DUH!). Bateman gave a great performance as Andy, carrying a lot of the movie’s emotion, and Hamill helped give this Chucky his own voice. The third act culmination of Chucky’s deranged personality would not have been nearly as effective if not for Hamill’s amazing voice over work. This is not to say though that the movie was perfect. Aubrey Plaza was bland as Karen Barclay, giving every line that classic, so-edgy-it-hurts, Plaza sarcasm. It works on Parks and Rec and even the movie Safety Not Guaranteed, but it feels so out of place here. Thankfully, Bateman was there to sell most of their scenes together, or I would not have been able to buy into their relationship as mother and son, much less care about their survival. In addition to Plaza, there were a lot of jokes in the first and second act that simply didn’t land. The lines fell flat and hardly got more than a chuckle from most of the audience I was with. I’m sure they were after the wit and timing of the young ensemble cast of IT, but that came from time and intensive work building off screen relationships within that cast. Some jerky editing also made the movie feel like it would have benefited from an extra 15 or 20 minutes, leading to certain scenes that were meant to be emotional being brushed over and rushed.

Lastly, let’s address the elephant in the room: Chucky’s redesign. The very first reaction I heard as Chucky’s face flashed on screen was “Ew, what the fu-“. I want to give the effects team credit for sticking to mostly animatronic work once again, but Chucky’s face was simply horrendous. I’d like to think this was intentional, perhaps they wanted to play up the Uncanny Valley effect as much as possible, but I can’t see myself or any other fans saying the design won us over, no matter how fun the movie was.

Did Child’s Play 2019 have to be a Child’s Play movie? No, not at all. In fact, they could have called it “Alexa Gone Wild.” and it would have held much of the same effect. With that being said though, I think I enjoyed it as much as I did because of their new take. It impressed me just enough to leave me thinking “Wow, that was really fun!” I love the original Child’s Play, and Brad Dourif is quite honestly irreplaceable, but the film makers saw the challenge they had with this new version, knew the audience they had to try and win over and they swung for the fences. I may not be able to convince everyone to give this movie a shot, and I’m fine with that, but I think the most important thing to remember is this: If you’re going to update one of my favorite toys, my “Friend til The End”, then make sure the new version keeps me entertained til the end, friend.

Rating: 3.5 Full Moons out of 5 🌕🌕🌕🌗

[stillness-in-green]

Seven Stars Tea Blends

Ever since I saw that the Gundam Café in Akihabara was selling official, licensed teas with the Bauduin and Fareed family crests on them, I knew I was going to write this post someday.  

The calls below (other than the two canonical ones) are based on a sort of ambiguous blend of what I think a café might pick (On the Menu), what the characters would think of their family tea in a world with more surviving tea culture than I suspect the IBO world actually has (Tea Culture), and stray facts that influenced my picks or that make fun parallels (Supplementary Notes).  I’m tempted to go back in and make bonus picks for Ein, Isurugi, and Julietta, but for now, I’ll try to keep on-theme.

Bauduin Family Blend: Earl Grey. 

           On the Menu: Bergamont's rich floral scent belies the strength of the black tea brew with its piquant citrus twist; in the same way, the Bauduin family's comfortable affluence masks their intense dedication and trained skill.              Tea Culture: Gaelio is surprisingly fond of tea for a soldier, likely due in no small part to his sister's tireless efforts.  His palate is not terribly refined, but he can certainly taste when a brew has turned bitter and isn't afraid to say so.  Takes his tea with a lot of milk.  Gallus leaves the milk but takes a dash of sugar, and likes his teas brewed strong.  Almiria has weaned herself off of both milk and sugar when drinking with company, wanting to seem grown-up; though she secretly does prefer a splash of milk added, she nevertheless has the most refined palate of her family.            Supplementary Notes: Earl Grey has a storied history that, despite all its associations with high-class luxury, has some outrageously fake elements to it.  I enjoy the way this echoes how very prepared Gaelio and Almiria both are to flush their family fortunes straight down the drain the moment Earth taboos or paternal authority conflict with their personal desires.  Those kids look like nobles, but deep down, they are far more attuned to their own emotions and goals than they are advancing the family's standing in the peerage.

Fareed Family Blend: Darjeeling.  

           On the Menu: While the labeling of Darjeeling is strictly regulated and monitored, the tea itself is a mild, soft black with faint floral notes.  This juxtaposition echoes both the Fareed family's meticulous intelligence and their talent for the delicate art of social maneuvering.              Tea Culture: McGillis has done enough reading, and is attentive enough to social cues, that he can fake it, particularly for Almiria, but his palate is actually quite poor.  He can take or leave tea as a drink--he actually prefers coffee--but weird tea classism is exactly the kind of frivolous luxury he loathes on principle.  Iznario, on the other hand, is quite discerning.              Supplementary Notes: A fun fact about Darjeeling: While the bulk of black tea in India is cultivated from the local variety of the Camellia sinensis plant, assamica, Darjeeling derives from the Chinese type, sinensis.  Literally--early Darjeeling tea was grown from seeds smuggled in from forbidden provinces in China, because the East India Trading Company was getting desperate.  I am delighted by the way this parallels Iznario's propensity to more or less steal children to advance his own ends--of course we all know how he came by McGillis, but Carta and Almiria's ties to the Fareed family echo the methodology as well.    

Issue Family Blend: Matcha.

           On the Menu: The Issue family puts a great deal of stock in tradition and ceremony.  Our matcha--rich, astringent, and demanding--is a perfect match.            Tea Culture: Carta, with her strict personality, would be startlingly skilled with the whole matcha process, though it would have taxed her patience mightily as a young child.  She would be smug bordering on intolerable that she drinks it straight, unlike that thin, oversweetened nonsense Gaelio favors.            Supplementary Notes: Probably the least likely in-universe call, as Teiwaz and its associated members are the ones hanging onto most of the Japanese culture in the setting, rather than Gjallarhorn, with its European trappings.  However, I can't resist drawing the parallel between Carta's fondness for (even reliance on) established battle strategies, her kitsune tails and kabuki makeup, and matcha, that most rigorously, performatively Japanese of teas.  If I didn't go with matcha, I probably would have gone with a good quality white, but the delicacy and subtlety of white teas didn't really seem like Carta's bag, and we don't have any other family members to compare to.

Kujan Family Blend: Masala Chai.

           On the Menu: An Assam-based blend, this bold black tea is warmed by cloves, ginger and nutmeg.  It reflects the Kujan family's reputation for producing leaders whose strength and easy charisma win the unflagging loyalty of their followers.  Sweeten liberally with milk and cinnamon for the young or young at heart!            Tea Culture: Iok's father, a man of such legendary prowess and charm that he had a generation of soldiers prepared to die for his children, probably drank this mostly straight, adding milk to sweeten it a bit when he was sharing it with his men.  Iok, who has the taste palate of a spoiled nine-year-old, likes it so sweet that the family cook has secretly taken to leaving the Assam out entirely.            Supplementary Notes: Iok is actually the person in the cast most likely to know his way around a Japanese tea ceremony, if his talent for kanji calligraphy is anything to go by, but chai's particularities--a widely social drink, and one whose production varies so hugely recipe to recipe that some of them don't even bother with tea leaves at all--make it an easy call for someone like Iok, whose charisma and passion make it easy to miss that someone left all the authenticity in his father's cup.  Iok is also the most "exotic"-looking of the Gjallarhorn cast, and chai is exotic enough that it's spread overseas under a name that in its own language just means "tea," making it a likely call from our hypothetical Gundam café looking to find something that's foreign-sounding but not so obscure that it's unmarketable.

Elion Family Blend: Russian Caravan. 

           On the Menu: This green/black tea blend--oolong, keemun, and lapsang souchong--is famed for its characteristically smoky flavor.  Bold and complex by turns, but with a mellow finish, this nuanced brew matches perfectly to the Elion family's dauntless yet urbane heir.              Tea Culture: Rustal, like McGillis, has little investment in Tea Culture, though in his case it's more because he already knows what he likes and has little interest in exploring other flavors as a weird rich person hobby.  Exasperatingly set in his ways, he makes no secret of the fact that he thinks his family brew is a superior tea, and is happy to lean into the star-faring romance of its characteristic flavor blend (see below).            Supplementary Notes: The smoke flavor today comes from the lapsang souchong, which is dried over pine smoke, but folklorically, it was thought to have been imparted to the tea by the smoke of campfires on the long trek through Mongolia between China and Russia.  As the admiral of the Arianrhod fleet, Rustal is the member of the Gjallarhorn cast who does the most traveling in the black depths of space, and so the imagery of strong-flavored brews to push back against the cold felt like a natural match.  Additionally, while Rustal isn't canonically of any particular nationality, he does share his ash blond hair shade with many an anime Russian, which also influenced this match.

Baklazan Family Blend: Silver Needle.

           On the Menu: This most rarified of white teas features a profoundly delicate flavor with just a whisper of natural sweetness.  The skill, care and discernment involved in its production speak to the Baklazan family head's light touch and keen insight, honed over his many long years on the Council of the Seven Stars.            Tea Culture: Lord Baklazan sticks almost completely to white and green teas; even oolong is a bit over-strong for his palate.  He's blind, and so finds quite enough to savor in the milder, more nuanced cups of the traditional Eastern teas.  He's a bit busy to mind his family's tea brand on his own, but there's an underling on the family payroll whose only and entire job description is "tea master," who Nemo is relieved to say he's unlikely to outlive.              Supplementary Notes: We know precious little about Nemo Baklazan, other than his very particular design--even his being blind is blatant supposition on my part--but someone in that council room after McGillis's coup looked around at a room full of dudes in full riot gear and decided, "Despite the implications of those worryingly large guns, McGillis actually can't force us to side with him."  Between Nemo, Gallus, and Lord Falk, I'm willing to bet it was Nemo, suggesting a prudent, cautious, but ultimately insightful man.  I also wanted to have a proper white on this list somewhere, and he definitely looks the type to have the most refined tastes in Chinese teas.  Silver Needle is, not coincidentally, also the most expensive white tea, which feels appropriate for one of the oldest and most influential men in the solar system.

Falk Family Blend: English Breakfast.

           On the Menu: A blend of Ceylon and Assam teas with an added earthy Kenyan, brewed to stand up to all the milk or sugar you could add as an indispensable part of the classic full breakfast.  Our stoutest black, this tea reflects the Falk family's pragmatism and resolve in the face of the changing times.            Tea Culture: Probably the member of the Seven Stars with the greatest active interest in where his household is procuring its tea, Lord Falk always has time to offer his opinion on a cup--Almiria found him to be quite the educational resource, on the few occasions they ever spoke.  He has a generous, adventurous palate, though he feels most at home with traditional blacks.            Supplementary Notes: Oh my god, you guys, we know basically nothing about Elek Falk--he doesn't even have Lord Baklazan's distinct design!  He has a big medallion of the sort that you sometimes see on Anime Popes, but there's no indication that organized religion figures into Gjallarhorn's affairs, and even if it does, the dude who responds, "That's just a fairy tale!" to claims of Agnika's soul animating Bael does not strike me as a likely spiritual leader.  He seems interested in getting to the bottom of mysteries--he's one of the voices pressing for continued investigation into Galan Mossa after the Silent War--but those are literally all of the characterization cues we get for him.  I don't want to sit here saying, "I picked English Breakfast because he looks like a guy who never skips a good full breakfast, if you get my drift, hohoho," but, like, if the shoe fits...  

[bixgirl1]

Five Books

Tagged by @julcheninredand @writcraft to list five books that made a deep impression on me at different points in my life. Not necessarily your top five favourite books ever, nor even books you’d recommend to someone else now, but five books that were important at the time, whether you loved them or hated them.

Thank you, guys! (Also, I hate this because I have like 70k books and it made me cry that I couldn’t pick all of them. *snort*)

Taking a cue from Writcraft and going into detail under the cut because it gets long. lol 

In no particular order:

1. Phantom – Susan Kay 2. Written on the Body – Jeanette Winterson 3. The Harry Potter series – JK Rowling 4. Firestarter – Stephen King 5. The Captive Prince series – C.S. Pacat

Honourable mentions (don’t huff at me, you guys asked me about books! Just be glad this list isn’t 200 deep lol):

Shopgirl – Steve Martin Bastard Out of Carolina – Dorothy Allison Second Nature, and Practical Magic –  Alice Hoffman The Stand, and Carrie – Stephen King Charlotte’s Web – E.B. White The Immortal Life of Henrietta Lacks – Rebecca Skloot

Notes on the top five below the cut:

1. Phantom, by Susan Kay

“She wanted an Angel of Music . . . an angel who would make her believe in herself at last. I'd been the Angel of Doom for the khanum. There was no reason in the world why I could not be the Angel of Music for Christine. I couldn't hope to be a man to her, I couldn't ever be a real, breathing, living man waking at her side and reaching out for her . . . But I could be her angel.”

This book. God, this book, guys. I’ve read most of the books on my list more times than I can count, but I may have read this one the most. Told from different perspectives (Erik, his mother, his mentor, his friend, Christine, and Raoul), it follows the story The Phantom of the Opera, from birth to postmortem. It shows humanity at its ugliest and most broken, and the heights it can achieve, and does it all surrounding this one brilliant, exceptional man who eventually descends into madness over his love for someone he knows he can’t have. But it’s a redemption story, too, and so bittersweet I can’t, to this day, read it without crying and feeling immensely satisfied. Erik is the perfect anti-hero — maligned at first for something he can’t help, and then later for what people have turned him into, but nearly always sympathized with, and loved by the reader. Until reading this book when I was, I think, twelve or thirteen, I didn’t know writers could do that, tbh.

 2. Written on the Body, by Jeanette Winterson

“When I say ‘I will be true to you’ I am drawing a quiet space beyond the reach of other desires.”

I cannot stress what an impact this book had on me. I first picked it up because I’d read a book of Winterson’s short stories (The World and Other Places) and I thought she had a really cool style and wanted to read more. She lived up to her short stories in style, of course, but what really blew me away about WntB — what really stole my heart and made me think — was that she wrote it in such a way that you never know if the narrator is male or female. I was around sixteen when I first read this, and still heavily involved in the church, and struggling with being attracted to girls as well as boys, and when I read this, the narrator was wholly female to me. I was reading lesbian love affair. I was stirred by it. When I think about the things that have influenced my coming to terms with my bisexuality, with me accepting who I was (though it took me longer to accept that it was okay to be who I was), this book is definitely on that list.

It’s also gorgeous, like everything she writes, so there’s that.

 3. The Harry Potter Series, by JK Rowling

“Harry saw Voldemort's green jet meet his own spell, saw the Elder Wand fly high, dark against the sunrise, spinning across the enchanted ceiling like the head of Nagini, spinning through the air toward the master it would not kill, who had come to take full possession of it at last. And Harry, with the unerring skill of the Seeker, caught the wand in his free hand as Voldemort fell backward, arms splayed, the slit pupils of the scarlet eyes rolling upward. Tom Riddle hit the floor with a mundane finality, his body feeble and shrunken, the white hands empty, the snakelike face vacant and unknowing. Voldemort was dead, killed by his own rebounding curse, and Harry stood with two wands in his hands, staring down at his enemy's shell.”

 I feel like this one doesn’t really need much explanation behind it. Lol. But I will say that I came into the HP series a few books in, around the time the first movie came out, and I was in an odd place in my life at the time. I was…listless. I’d always been a big reader, but it had been a long while since something had so captured my attention and focus, or had riveted me with its world building in such a way. I fell in absolute love with Harry, with the surrounding characters, with the social and moral parallels drawn. I kept asking myself “this is a kids series?!” There are things, in retrospect, that one can criticise about the Harry Potter series, plenty of valid problems to discuss and deconstruct. But I will never not be loyal to it, for its creativity, for its surprising depth, and for its heart.

 4. Firestarter, by Stephen King

“It was amazing how time got by, how quickly a child could change, change in front of your eyes with an unobtrusiveness that was nearly terrible.”

Many apologies to @julcheninred because I know this one was on your list too, but Firestarter meant so much to me as a kid. I dove into King’s depiction of Charlie, and the simplicity of the writing and plot blended with the complexity of the characters and their relationships. I loved the idea of a young girl with so much power — frightening and potentially deadly, but hers. And though I was too young, when I first fell in love with this book, to understand the (actually pretty overt lol) sexual metaphors, I didn’t need to. It’s not a book that requires you to figure everything out while you’re on the ride — it’s a book that makes you want to, even if that means reading it a hundred times and wearing out several copies. (Which, ahem, I may have done.)

 5. The Captive Prince series, by C.S. Pacat

“He thought of Laurent's delicate, needling talk that froze into icy rebuff if Damen pushed at it, but if he didn't--if he matched himself to its subtle pulses and undercurrents--continued, sweetly deepening, until he could only wonder if he knew, if they both knew, what they were doing.” (Book Two: Prince’s Gambit)

Okay, I know I blog a lot about this series and as a drarry shipper/writer/blogger, it’s easy to assume my reasons. And to be fair, drarry is what initially attracted me to the series. It was first recced to me by @magpiefngrl, then by @l0vegl0wsinthedark and @o0o-chibaken-o0o (thank you guys!!!!!!!) and finally I was so wound up about by them that I checked Amazon for a sample. Upon reading it, I immediately ordered copies, then read all three books online while I waited for the books to be shipped, they’re that good.

And I found it’s not about the similarities to drarry. (There are a few, but only in the most basic of ways.) It’s about the writing, which is so beautifully taut, I genuinely doubt I’ve read anything like it before. It’s about the characters, who are sharp and perfect in their imperfections, and dialogue and tension and subtly intricate plotting that thrills me anew every time I read it. It’s about a love story that feels fantastical and wildly relatable, a happily ever after that you need — and get, like a stunningly wrapped gift you never expected. The way Pacat manages to pivot an arguably hated and hate-worthy character into someone you would give your life for reads like a dream, and I’m not exaggerating when I say these books changed things in me. Maybe all small — an appreciation for simplicity in writing; a jadedness that seems to surface sometimes about my ability to immerse myself in a story — but all fundamental, and all appreciated to my bones.

Idk who’s been tagged so my apologies in advance, but @jadepresley  , @lqtraintracks, @camael-fanart, @femmequixotic, @noeeon, @o0o-chibaken-o0o @agentmoppet and anyone else who wants to partake!  <3

[sailtheplains]

Star Wars talk - Darth Snookie

Let’s discuss Star Wars.

 Okay, I will admit, the countdown on the Rebel transport was kinda cheezy and felt a little forced. But, I did like that Poe seemed to take a real lesson from it (though that brings up the question of why the General didn’t tell anyone her plan when Poe asked her to---that seemed kinda dumb).

 The introduction of Rose, I thought, was cool. Especially as a Vietnamese-American actress. I really admire their efforts to diversify Star Wars.  And I like that we didn’t end up in another seedy bar but in a casino—because we have to remember, the Star Wars universe is fucking huge. We’ve only seen a tiny sliver of it. So I actually didn’t really mind them taking their little side trip to….wherever the hell that was. To pick up the dude from The Usual Suspects, Benici Del Toro, who I thought was an interesting addition and I wonder if we’ll be seeing him again sometime. He’s a great actor. I feel like it would be a waste to throw away that character.

 BB8 returns as well to show us that he and R2D2 are the only fuckmothering Gryffindors up in here.

  But the two elements I really loved, was Mark Hamil back as an older, more jaded, Luke Skywalker. And the strange bond developing between Rey and Kylo.

 First, Luke Skywalker—because this was what almost got me into an argument with my roommate’s brother-in-law on Christmas day. They wanted Luke Skywalker to remain this legend, a myth. But he didn’t. Because Luke never thought of himself as a legend. He killed Darth Vader, yeah, but he didn’t want to. He didn’t relish it. It wasn’t satisfying to him. Vader was his father. And the Dark Side of the Force destroyed Anakin from the core.  

 Luke never thought of himself as this “great master”. He was barely trained when he first faced Vader. He was a terrified kid. That fight changed him. When we meet him in Return of the Jedi, he’s clearly grown but still has a tendency to not always plan ahead. Yoda then leaves him, just as Luke is coming to terms with how little he actually knows about the Jedi at all.

 Luke was not raised as a Jedi. And Luke correctly identifies it as a religion. Because that’s what it is. He makes a very good point to Rey, that the Force exists whether there are Jedi and Sith or not. All they did was give it a name. The Jedi became romanticized, deified—because its totally true. (Folks don’t like Luke Skywalker being a real human.)

 But Luke studied the Force and the way of the Jedi anyway, even after the fall of the Empire and presumably all through Leia’s reconstruction of the galactic government or whatever. He found out about the Jedi temples and the sacred texts—who knows how, really (Wookiepedia, presumably). He gathered what he could to teach those who came to him, including his own nephew, Ben Solo. But the only expertise he had was his own and whatever advice he may have picked up during his very short training sessions with Kenobi and Yoda. (It’s still a little odd to me that Luke and Leia never, like, got together to study the Force or something. She clearly can use it as well.)

 So he attempts to train these dozen or so kids, gets spooked by something he sees in his nephew and decides to go get a read on him.

 The Light Side of the Force took one look at Ben and was like, “Nope.”

 And Luke has a moment where it was instinctive for him to snuff out any Dark that he found, even if it was his own nephew.

 That was the turning point. Cue the awkward wake up where Ben, a scared young man, sees his uncle standing over him with a lightsaber and panics. And that was it—everything Luke has put together, dashed in a single night.

 Though, of course, Kylo does not explain what happened himself. He simply asks Rey if she knew, and if Luke told her. But he never actually states his interpretation of what happened—except for the bit about thinking his uncle was going to kill him. But he never claims to have killed the other apprentices. Kylo does the same thing about Rey’s parents, claiming to know who they are—and then asking her if she knows who they were. When she says “no one”, he goes with it. So it was hard to tell what exactly he did know about her and what was him probing for information. But more on this later.

 Of course, he could have killed his nephew and potentially saved his temple. But he would likely never forgive himself for killing another member of his own family just for the Force.

 That was the point. The Jedi had become so stagnant and sterile that, as Luke notes, at the height of their power—Sidious took over the fucking Senate and gave rise to Darth Vader and no one figured it out? Maybe the Jedi and the Sith had become too polarized. Maybe it wasn’t Good and Bad so much as simply Defend and Attack.

 Because Luke was not raised in the Jedi order, he was able to step back from it and look passed the façade of myth surrounding the Jedi and Sith. It’s no different from an Atheist getting into a religion and wanting to study it first. So Luke studies and finds some shady shit.

 So that, plus him nearly instinctively killing his nephew—and having all that go to shit—he retreats from using the Force. Because the Force is as much a blessing as a curse. 

Yeah, the Force is strong in his family: his father is dead, his mother is dead, his adoptive aunt and uncle are dead, Ben Kenobi is dead, Yoda is dead, his friends from back home are dead, he lost his hand, he lost his home, he never knew his sister, he had to kill his father, he nearly killed his own nephew. Was that a religion he really wanted to be part of?

 And Luke steps back to look at this religion and way of life and finds it full of holes and bullshit. And after his temple burns, nephew disappears and apprentices are slaughtered….he probably feels pretty fucking terrible. Because again, Luke wasn’t arrogant. He had a lot of doubt. He didn’t believe in himself very much. And he saw that as a terrible failure. Like he destroys everything he touches. Had he driven Ben Solo to the dark side or had Ben gone on his own? And if so, why? How? What had turned Anakin? Luke doesn’t really know. So he turns the blame inward.

 It’s actually a very human response. So he leaves Leia to politics and stops connecting to the Force—to get his shit figured out, likely. And after everything he suffered—maybe he just wanted somewhere quiet. He was never a statesman. That was Leia. Ben Kenobi went to be a hermit and maybe he unconsciously followed that example. Trauma will do that to people.

 So then this kid shows up with a lot of inherent power and we get a little montage of her following him around, which he grumpily tolerates. But bits of young Luke Skywalker still shine through—he was always a little bit of a smart-ass. More subtle than Han. It’s nice to see that again.  (Though when he realized Chewie is there with the Falcon and Han isn’t. I was like, “Oh!” ;_;)

 I thought it was a good touch to bring Yoda back and remind us that Luke was just a man. Always looking at the horizon. His mind was never on where he was and what he was doing. And that’s just who Luke was as a person. And he still is. Because he wasn’t a god. He wasn’t perfect. He wasn’t Jesus. He was just a farmer from a dirtball outer rim planet.

 And you realize how very young Luke still is compared to Yoda and how much he still doesn’t know and will never be able to know. He was a ‘master’, yes. But only because there was no one else. Compared to other species in the galaxy with the ability to use the Force—he might still be a young man. Just like Yoda addresses him as, “Young Skywalker”

 I thought it was actually really cool that instead of blindly following the Jedi Order, Luke steps back and examines it—contemplating whether to change it or just let it die out completely.

 And then he decides to come back to the Force to help them. I don’t see what all the Fankids are bitching about. It was some nice character work for Luke, because he has suffered a lot and he never really saw himself as anything special. (Also, I burst out laughing when he brushed his shoulder off. Luke Skywalker throws some bomb shade.)

 This brings me to Rey and Kylo Ren. So Snookie takes a page from Voldemort’s book and establishes a brain link between Rey and Kylo—presumably, without the latter’s knowledge—as Leader Snoke seems to indicate when taunting Rey about it. 

This leads to some interesting moments that feel….uncomfortable, weird, almost intimate. But at the same time, it’s intriguing to watch them attempt to communicate. She is the more ‘naïve’, I would guess and it’s not a big mystery to say that a young woman who is accustomed to a life of hardship would be made uncomfortable by Kylo without his shirt while also sharing a weird mindlink with him somehow.

 But at the same time…she’s trying to learn about him and knowing that he’s Han’s and Leia’s son—and she totally thinks those two are/were cool as shit—she’s determined to try, at least.

 Especially after Kylo brings her to Snookie. It was difficult to really tell if he had planned the entire thing or decided on a whim to kill Snook. So it’s hard to say what Kylo’s real goal is. This movie kind of displays what makes Kylo Ren so different from other Star Wars villains. Human Sith are almost always portrayed in the films as menacing, calculated and cold. Kylo is different. He’s the Zuko of this team.

 Luke said that Snook had gotten to Ben before he went to check on him at the temple. So how and when did Snook get in contact with Ben Solo originally? How old was Ben when Luke started his training?

 So now you have an unstable young man with a lot of inherent power and a lot of rage, frustration and self-hatred. There is just so much of it. Enough of it that Kylo somehow hid his intentions from Snookie. 

Kylo kind of gets a lot of shit because he is kind of awkward, almost. Socially, physically, emotionally. He’s so driven and passionate and intense about everything he seems to do. And now that he appears to be in control of the Order….now what will he do? He lets himself give in to the intensity and aggression of the Dark Side. Not unlike Zuko and his chaotic firebending. Only Ben doesn’t have an Uncle Iroh anymore.  

  So, overall, yeah—some bits dragged, the Resistance thing is kinda meh. How the Senate keeps getting fucked up is kinda crazy—yeah, some of that was pretty thin. But I like what they’re working on with the characters. It could end up being really interesting. And Poe finally meets Rey—which was kinda cute for a minute. I’d like to go see it again to keep examining the details.