#i saw boy kills world recently and though the context is entirely different a part of that movie made me Think of Them again

[harlethresher]

i love how much you can do with jake and bgd in illustrations ive been drafting out so much for them and just ahfkajgjs this flavor of dirkjake is tasty like… hes still a part of jakes subconscious so when i dress bgd i think “what would jake think dirk would wear” its the projection and the expectations that are so delicious dirk being obfuscated through one layer of Jakes Expectations for Him aaaaagh

[latin-dr-robotnik]

Hola Sebas! I saw that you really like the character of knuckles and amy rose, and I though...

Do you have some headcanons about them? 👀 I like to think that knuckles and amy can develop a sibling bond.

For example, knux being worried about her and even trying to protect in a sibling way during a battle.

And with amy, she would try to mock out knux in a friendly way like she did in the episode of sonic x where she was saying to him that it was obvious that knuckles was grateful for sonic's help but didn't wanted to say that to him but amy could read that in a spare of seconds

¡Hola anon!

Headcanons? Back at the start of this year I was actually working on an actual KnuxAmy oneshot lol. It was a bit of a personal experiment to try and branch out of regular ol' SonAmy content and into a different type of dynamic. A slower, more intimate one. Although it's still incomplete to this day, the main points were that after some years of relative peace in the world causing the Sonic cast to split up and do their own things, an older Amy decides to drop by Angel Island unannounced to visit the lone guardian of the Master Emerald, catch up on what they've been doing, and maybe remembering some old adventures they took part. It's meant to be a rather chill and intimate read in a post-Forces alternate continuity that takes the two of them around some beautiful vistas and secrets of Angel Island that no one but Knuckles (and maybe Sonic) knew of, while they slowly realize they might have more in common than they think. They're older, their way of understanding life is different, and so they might end up working better as "more than just friends", or at least that's what I was working toward before leaving the project sitting on my drafts haha.

As for actual headcanons, that "they might have more in common than they think" point is something I can stand by for any context, not just my self-indulgent fanfic. Alternate Sonic media like the comics have tried to develop quiet moments between them to strengthen their friendship, and it's something I can also see working as a general series headcanon. Knuckles in the main series is a bit of a wildcard, swinging between being the hot-headed Master Emerald guardian that wants to be left alone (but will chase you to the end of the world if you piss him off or steal the Emerald) in the Adventure days, and a bit of a dumb jerk as of recent games (Gens, Lost World, to some extent even Forces); and while I like both approaches, my ideal Knuckles (as I talked about him in a previous ask) has more of that SA2 Knuckles interacting with Rouge or Heroes Knuckles energy. (I like Heroes Knuckles a lot, he's as ready for adventure as he can be, and he's having lots of fun throughout.)

Anyway, yes, headcanons:

For grumpy Knuckles, the one who doesn't want to be bothered when he's on his floating island, I think Amy of all people is the one that can better connect with him; and while at first he won't let her delve too deep into his own thoughts and motivations, at the end of the day it helps him a lot to know he has a friend that understands him on a more personal level than the rest. That's not to say Sonic and Tails aren't close friends to him, but both of them are always around for adventures and kicking Eggman's ass. Sonic will never have a heart-to-heart conversation with Knuckles because that's not his style, because he understands Knuckles as is, and the only thing he want is for Knuckles to be fine and in shape for both punching shit and messing with each other. But Amy? Amy's empathy is the one key aspect that always carried her very far, and I believe she wouldn't let Knuckles walk away back to his island without talking about it, not because she wants to change him and force him to be more open, more friendly or just a completely different person, but because she wants to understand what's up with him, and reassure him that she'll always be there if he ever needs her. Of course, even if Knuckles denies it, it doesn't hurt to have someone you can chat with when the fate of the world isn't at stake. The M.E. is great and pretty shiny but I don't see it being too talkative (unless you turn it into a real character and... hooo boy that's a rabbit hole for another time.)

As for Knuckles as a jerk, yeah, I agree with both of them bantering a lot. We kinda saw that already with Sonic X, Sonic Generations and Sonic Lost World (Knuckles makes a funny comment about Sonic, Amy immediately retaliates, often with a strong shove involved lol), but I can headcanon Knuckles and Amy being complete jerks to each other. Over every other headcanon, I think this is the one with the biggest sibling energy: Knuckles is the big grumpy bro while Amy is the cheery little sister, and they both go ham having lots of fun mocking and teasing each other, laughing and then having some ice cream together or something before calling it a day. But that's exclusively their thing, do not attempt to make fun of any of them or the other one will tear you to pieces. That "knucklehead" you just mocked is Amy's big bro and if you don't apologize you'll meet her hammer head-on; and don't even get me started on what happens if you make Amy cry (heck, I can headcanon Knuckles threatening Sonic to break all his bones if he ever breaks Amy's heart lol like that "Are you playing with that girl's heart again, Sonic?" Heroes quote but now a lot more serious, haha.)

Heck, take off the KnuxAmy component of my fic and it becomes a decent sibling headcanon: Amy will visit Knuckles over at Angel Island on occasion (don't ask how she gets up there... that's part of Amy's magic), and they may or may not end up spending the entire afternoon talking about Sonic. If Knuckles ever has to come down to Station Square, I'm sure the first person he visits is going to be Amy, maybe even stick around for a cup of tea! He doesn't understand tea, though, or even the concept of a city apartment, so Amy may need some extra patience to teach him how everything works. Sonic may even show up while Amy is teaching Knuckles how to make tea, and he'll make a funny comment about him, causing Knuckles to immediately drop everything and chase after the blue blur across the city only to kick his ass.

So, in conclusion: yes, I was working on getting into older!KnuxAmy and maybe take their dynamic one step further, but for actual headcanons I can see Amy being the only one Knuckles can actually and fully trust, since she can see right through him, leading to probably one of the most solid friendships in the entire series, on the same level as Sonic-Tails, the Chaotix or Shadow-Rouge (don't kill me, shadouge fans... haha... ha.) When Knuckles is in the jerk mood the sibling energy between them goes to the moon, and leads to incredibly fun moments when they playfully mess with each other, laugh a lot and maybe Knuckles gets the chance to learn a bit more of how the world works outside of Angel Island.

[starberry-cupcake]

Mob Psycho 100 and the new layers of shonen anime

I recently finished watching both seasons of Mob Psycho and I felt I had to write something about what it meant to me as a viewer to be introduced to this anime, because it’s been a while since I’ve been as pleasantly surprised as I was. I think this one deserves some positive observations, so here we go. 

I’ve watched anime and read manga for most of my life. 

I grew up around stuff like Captain Tsubasa, Sailor Moon, Saint Seiya, Dragon Ball, and evolved as a viewer as genres and products did around me. 

I re-discovered what sports manga and anime could be when I first encountered Slam Dunk. I re-discovered what shonen manga and anime could be with stories like Fullmetal Alchemist. I re-discovered what shojo manga could be with mangakas like Rumiko Takahashi, Yukiru Sugisaki and CLAMP, and later Bisco Hatori. I re-discovered what josei manga could offer with Ai Yazawa. And so on. 

I saw genres grow and develop, exceed their limits and question themselves. You had shojos with male protagonists, lgbt content in josei manga (and I mean actual content, not fanservice), shojo manga about sports, magical girls AND magical boys fighting alongside one another, archetypes deconstructing, seinen with philosophical debates, fantasy and mechas at the same time...

However, even though good content was never completely gone, the last decade or so was marked by a very big increase on niche exploitation.

Others have explained it better than I can but, basically, we saw an explosion of anime with certain types and genres which are absolutely clones of one another and respond to the same niche interests in order to sell merchandise and be produced quickly and easily. 

And, worse than that, there are others which disguise themselves as “revolutionary” and “different” yet are the same exact thing with maybe a bit more quality on one aspect or another, but ultimately follow the same patterns and generate the same kind of mindset on their viewership and the same expectations. 

Like I said, it isn’t that stuff with more complex content didn’t exist anymore, but it had a harder time to sustain itself out there when the market was asking for faster and bigger profit and anime and manga which don’t follow a formula are difficult to sell. So it’s harder to pitch new ideas when studios want to make a quick yen and when a lot of the fanbase outside national limits doesn’t pay for content. 

I had kind of given up a bit. I watched stuff I already knew, new seasons of this or that, sometimes I explored different things, some of which were pleasant, some of which were fantastic, but the ones I enjoyed the most tended to really differ from the genres I was used to. 

This year, my sister ( @strawberrydaydreams ) recommended me Mob Psycho 100. She knew I liked One Punch Man well enough and thought I’d like this one better. 

She was right. 

Mob Psycho does something different with the genre than what I had seen before. It doesn’t quite deconstruct archetypes and tropes, it doesn’t quite subvert them. 

What I feel Mob Psycho does is re-contextualize them for an audience who isn’t content anymore with the blandness of genres past. 

It doesn’t quite deconstruct masculinity in shonen, it enhances it. It adds more layers to it than the mere idea of power and competition that has been installed in it for ages. 

The idea of power is accompanied by notions of emotion, vulnerability, guilt, love, kindness, respect, fear, responsibility, courage. There’s this idea that power means nothing in a vacuum if you aren’t human enough to be able to live without it. 

And it isn’t just that Mob is such a vulnerable and likable kid, it’s also his surroundings. 

He has a teacher who has 0% power but 100% common sense. Reigen is a lot of things, but he’s mostly the voice of reason, a reason that exceeds the believability of the genre and contextualizes it in the real world. 

I don’t remember when was the last time I heard an adult character in an anime saying something like “I don’t care how powerful he is, he’s a child, this is too much for him to handle”. The first time I heard him say that I remembered all those small shonen protagonists being beaten up by grown ass adults and normalized by the plot because hey, power = physical power in shonen. 

When I was a kid, I thought nothing of tiny Gohan being beaten up to death by grown ass men, but when I was a little older and saw Gon being almost killed in HunterxHunter, I was in pain. Every time in shonen someone pointed out that a character “is just a kid” it was taken as a joke, implying something along the lines of “that person doesn’t understand that this kid is super powerful”. 

The fact that a character was a kid had no relation, in the context of the show, to the idea that they were strong enough to fight and, most often than not, that physical strength was enough to put the weight of the world, universe or multiverse on those tiny shoulders. 

The suspension of disbelief is part of the genre, especially with anime and manga where everything tends to be exaggerated and taken to an extreme. Still, shonen is a genre aimed at a young audience, and in a tradition of decades upon decades of the normalization of this, and the subsequent separation of power from anything emotional or mental, where physical strength is the only requirement for a story to allow someone to be chosen, it sends a conflicting message on what power, and subsequently in this genre the idea of masculinity, can entail. 

And even though other shonen have de-constructed masculinity and the genre itself, they completely let go of the archetypes of a regular shonen story to do it, which is another process entirely, a valid and amazing one, but another one. 

Mob Psycho introduces common sense in an archetypal shonen. It’s built on the premise that power and physical force aren’t romanticized, setting archetypes and storylines that are typical of the genre on a setting that emulates how the world actually works and how social interactions are a part of human nature, as is empathy. 

It doesn’t retort to isolation and suffering, to pain and torture, to make the protagonist strong, he is already strong physically, what he needs to become a better person, to grow up, is the constantly growing support system and voices of reason helping him through it. 

And, most importantly, it isn’t anymore about how a protagonist is forgiving because he’s just “a good goofy character archetype”, here he is forgiving because it’s fair in the context of human empathy and interaction. 

And it isn’t just about Reigen as a mentor (a faulty, complex and far from perfect mentor, but who is, after all, a good person). 

There’s the bodybuilding team, these super ripped guys who look too old to go to school (and one ex gang member) all training together and taking Mob under their wing, with this idea of masculinity being completely extended from “we have muscles and physical strength” to “we don’t use it against people unless they’re abusing others who can’t protect themselves”. 

And there is family, friends, an entire growing circle of people who attach themselves to this universe because they learn from this kid and his journey. 

I have to admit that though Ritsu’s path was something I wasn’t sure of at the start, it made for such a complex dynamic of the older and younger brother rivalry archetype. It took this idea that is present in so many shonen anime and manga of the younger brother’s conflicts with the shadow of the oldest to an entirely different level of complexity and discussion, of guilt, fear, doubt, conversation and reconciliation. 

And, through all this, Mob recognizes, at every step of the way, that his absolute incredible power is not everything. That he is, first and foremost, a person. That he can always improve in something. 

He doesn’t see his powers as an advantage, but he also doesn’t completely reject them. He fights for control, yes, but he doesn’t let go of who he is. He has to learn to reconcile different parts of his life, because everything is part of him all the same. 

Added to all this there are fascinating characters and great designs, stories within stories and a lot of lore and interesting things that keep adding themselves to it all. 

In and of itself it’s an interesting and smart story. But what surprised me is the level of re-contextualization of genre archetypes into a more realistic plain of what the world needs. 

A shonen anime, which traditionally represents the young cis male demographic, which follows the same patterns and archetypes of power, rivals, fights, abilities, leveling up; but adds to that layers which build up on that with empathy, kindness and common sense, it’s a pretty refreshing thing to see.

[doctorspencereid]

The Snake in the Grass ( Spencer Reid x reader )

Pairing: Spencer reid x reader

Summary: when young women start turning up dead in San Francisco, the team go and investigate who could be behind the gruesome killings.

Word Count: 5.2k

Setting: Between season 4 - Early season 6

Warnings: abduction, mentions of murder, gun shots

Their eyes stared back at Spencer accusingly, emotionless in their still form but within the context of the moment it was as though they were staring coldly back at him, judging him and blaming him.Three different women, two pairs of brown eyes and onc blue . All three had recently been discovered dead, two weeks apart. All within miles of each other in San Francisco. His eyes narrowed, trying to find the invisible lines connecting the women to each other, somehow . . someway. There wasn’t much that tied one victim to the next, if it weren’t for overkill and flowers left at the scene then the crimes wouldn’t draw their attention. They were young women between the ages of eighteen and twenty five, but that was the only marker of preference this unsub seemed to possess. The women were different races, different body types, even different occupations. So, at the very least they could rule out a preferential killer from their profile.

“ Maya Flint, Jessica Thomas, and Emma Rhodes. ”  Penelope recited the victim’s names from the front of the room, the gathered team peering at her attentively, “ All of them with such an excessive amount of stab wounds that even Norman Bates himself would run crying to mommy.”

Spencer’s intelligent eyes scanned the file in front of him, the photos and papers detailing the crimes in horrific detail. His mouth was set firmly, it was alarming how angry this unsub was with these women. “ None of them were taken from their homes, all of them taken in public places. The mall, libraries, coffee shops - this guy is everywhere.  Eye witness account just say they saw them leaving with a tall man . ” the technical analyst continued, shaking her head at the photos on the screen. Spencer was used to seeing how uncomfortable she tended to get around the more messy crime scenes, it wasn’t in her hopeful spirit to tolerate these atrocities.

Morgan lifted his head up from the tablet propped up on the tables, his brows knitting together with a masked blend of anger and confusion, “ Just hold on a minute, sweetness - all these victims were found with flowers near their bodies, and with the way these girls were slashed up - it just doesn’t fit this guy. ” Derek started, turning to gage the rest of the team’s thoughts,  “ Do you think this is a sign of remorse? ”

Before anyone else on the team could voice their thoughts, Spencer had already piped up, toying with his pen between his flighty fingers. “ Not necessarily, they were found with a small bouquet of Gardenias and Primrose, and if you look into the meanings of the flowers themselves, it can give us some insight into how the unsub feels about the victims, or the act itself. Gardenias are typically meant to mean purity, or even love. Where as Primrose imply a need for someone . . almost like you can’t live without them. ” he explained, looking more at the files than the people at the table. “ My guess is that the unsub is using the flowers as a way to tie some romantic attachment to the deaths, maybe even claim the victims in some way.”

He looked up finally, his brows drawing down low on his brow, “ It doesn’t look like there are any hesitation marks, an unsub who feels remorse wouldn’t go so aggressive, but a scorned lover? Most definitely. ”

Penelope sighed and rested her hands on her hips, looking everywhere but the screen, “ Great, so we have a killer casanova on the loose. ”

“ Maybe not exactly,” Emily supplied, looking to the boy genius, “ Maybe it’s not a scorned lover, but someone who wanted to be close to the victims, the time between killings doesn’t leave enough time for a would - be relationship to fall apart. ”

Hotch stood, and the rest of the team shifted their attention to him. “ When we get there, Prentiss and I will check out the scene. Dave, I want you, Reid and Morgan talking to the families and friends, see if you can figure out anything you can about the girls’ love lives. Wheels up in 30. ”

The words chilled her to her bones, it couldn’t be. No, Emma couldn’t be dead. Her blood stilled in her veins as the newscaster on screen described the grizzly murder of her college best friend. The image they showed of Emma, grinning from ear to ear was one that was taken during their college graduation. That was only three years ago, and it had all seemed to fly through her mind, the memories slipping through her fingers like sand. Y/N didn’t notice the tears falling down her cheeks, the only thing she was aware of was the hard grip on her hand. It was Justin Ashford, her best friend. Y/N’s eyes flickered over to Justin sympathetically, who didn’t look at her once, the floor seemed to be the only thing that he could look to. The tables and walls were adorned with photos of the three of them together, so it made sense. But as for her, y/n’s eyes couldn’t break away from their smiling faces and bright eyes. She looked so alive in the photos, in her soul she hoped this was some massive, elaborate prank and Emma would call any second and laugh on the other side of the line.

“ There’s no way . . it , it has to be a mistake. ” y/n muttered, the words more air than anything else, “ Her mom, her sister ..  someone would have called or something ! ” her last word caught in her throat, settling like a lump that made it feel as though she couldn’t breathe.

Justin shook his head, resting an odd arm around y/n’s shoulders. His eyes were trained in on the tv now, looking steady. “ She’s really gone . . ”  Y/n’s heart heart dropped to her feet, it was only two weeks ago when Justin had started expressing some interest in Emma, she wasn’t sure if Emma had even known, but the thought of what could have been must have been killing him inside.

As his voice faded the sharp ring of a phone echoed loudly through the apartment. Y/n jumped up, she ducked out from under Justin’s  odd embrace and rushed to the phone. The voice that spoke to her stopped her blood in her veins, she had almost forgotten how much Emma and her mother sounded alike. “ Y/N ? Oh , dear please come down to the police station - they , the um, enforcements need information on Emma. And y-you knew her so well - ”

“ I’ll be there,” she said clearly, though there was a tremor in her voice. A sigh sounded from the elderly woman. With a quick expulsion of condolences, y/n clicked off the phone and turned to Justin with a heavy heart and proper composition; she needed to keep it together. It was hard, even then fresh tears were threatening to spill down her cheeks. Justin  looked at her with his entire faced riddled with confusion as he waited for y/n to tell him what she’d heard, “ They want us down at the police station. ”

“ Wha -  Why ? We haven’t done anything - ” he burst immediately, standing fast, his hands balled at his sides. She could only shrug, her arms wrapping around herself as the world seemed to expand around her. Sure, Justin was there, but the world felt too big, too cold now.

“ They need us, Emma needs this. ”

The three agents milled around the station, Rossi was still interviewing Emma’s dad, Morgan and Spencer were propped up against one of the desks going over their talk with the victim’s mother. The younger agent watched the opening of the hallway as the deceased’s friends shuffled in. His investigative gaze tracked the male in the group, he was quiet with a shadowed face. His eyes were unreadable, but his body language was an open book to any half decent profiler. Guilty, withdrawn. Did he maybe blame himself for this, or did he know more?

It seemed Morgan was picking apart Justin already, so Spencer diverted his efforts to the girl beside him. Now, her emotion was clear, like a map that detailed her thoughts and actions. The tear tracks on her cheeks were still fresh, the confusion and pain drawn into the lines on her face were in line with any victim of tragedy. Before they could meet with the other two, the sheriff intervened and explained who they were and what they were there to do. The boy’s knuckles tensed, presumably from stress though the exact reason wasn’t obvious. The girl peered over at them, her eyes reflecting a sort of resignation, they were tired and carried a weight of responsibility that she seemed to be passing onto him. Find out who did this and fix this, her eyes told him. Spencer nodded stiffly, his arms crossed against his chest, he hoped he had gotten the message right.

Morgan led the charge of questions, just a few simple ones that should give them some possibly useful information. For the most part, they complied with the agents, though the stress and worry on their faces were clear; which wasn’t all together too uncommon. Were there any guys Emma hung out with ? Did Emma go out with men often? Was there any place she said she was going before she disappeared ?

‘ No one really, unless you count Justin. But he’s one of us, really. ’

‘ Sure, Emma was pretty.. She didn’t have a problem getting some company, but she was smart about it. ’

‘ No, but she usually hung out around the mall, it was her haunt.’

Granted, y/n had answered most of the questions. She seemed to know the most about Emma, it was clear they had been close while the victim had lived.  But she wasn’t the one who piqued his curiosity, no . . that was Justin. The way he reached for comfort from y/n, his hand twitching and settling on her knee. The way she shook her head minutely and drew back from his touch. The hurt that flashed in his eyes, it was a tricky exchange that could mean everything if you watched closely enough. Spencer narrowed his eyes as he listened to the boy’s responses, they were an uncommon way to talk about someone you’d lost, especially if they were meant to be someone you’d cared about.

‘ Just me, really. She stayed away from dudes, she’s made bad choices with the guys she talked to, anyone who knew Emma could tell you that. ’

‘ More often than was reasonable .. as some might say, I guess. ’

‘ No. ’

Justin almost sounded bitter, as though Emma had done something to hurt her. Spencer had his own theories, some penetrating suspicions, but the two were let go. The moment they were out of sight, Reid flipped out his mobile and dialed the number that would give him the information he needed. He only hoped it would be useful information.

“ Ask and you shall receive, baby Einstein - what do you need ? ” Garcia questioned excitably, her cheery tone was always a contrast to the solemn tone of each case. Spencer furrowed his brows, staring out past the door, seeing their car drive past the station parking lot.

“ Hey, Garcia. What can you get me on a Justin Ashford in San Francisco? I need his spending record, an address, and maybe some criminal records if he’s got them.” Reid requested, his free hand resting in his pocket. Nerves fired in his body and he hoped that his hunch wasn’t right, and that if he was right then that he would get enough information to nail the unsub. Worry swam in thoughts, the thought that if he was right then he had just let the potential unsub make off with another potential victim.

There was silence for a moment before the nonchalant tone of Penelope Garcia picked up again, “ Well,  your boy is pretty all-american on first glance. He’s bright, but outside of a few detentions during high school he has no record. As for spending, it’s as if all of his funds drain right into the local mall and a small cafe north of town. So maybe this guy’s a shopaholic with a coffee addiction? ”

He was a regular at the places that victims frequented . . well, that certainly wasn’t a good sign. Spencer sucked in a sharp breath, pinching the bridge of his nose, eyeing the floor nervously, “ Can you get me an address ?  ”

“ Just a second, ” Garcia stalled, and Spencer felt the seconds past by like agonizing beats, “ 979 Mulberry Drive, apartment 16. Good luck, boy wonder. ”

It was a hunch, a suspicion. Only a maybe. It was because of that he thought it best to simply check out if he was right, he couldn’t exhaust his resources on a hunch. That being said, Spencer figured he ought to ensure some backup should things go wrong. He remembered that Hotch and Prentiss were still out in the field, so quickly Spencer filled them in quickly, asking them to meet him there. Reid headed out, driving out on the congested streets of San Francisco. The traffic was heavy and it took him a few minutes to get to what should have been a fairly close building. The car pulled up onto a tall apartment complex, and Spencer was quick to jump out of the car, his weapon ready to be drawn from his holster. He hoped he would be enough to keep the possible unsub tied up until Hotch and Prentiss could pull in. He hoped against hope that he was wrong . 

From the moment she had gotten into the car, y/n could feel a shift in her friend, it was change in his demeanor. He was frenzied, and his driving was sloppy as if he didn’t care whether they went up in a blaze of scrap metal and flame or not. Justin’s eyes were wild, the boy was falling apart. She could only assume it was because of Emma, “ Hey - Justin, woah. Be careful !” y/n chastised, her hand reaching out to steady his forearm. He yanked his arm away, as though her touch would burn him, he sneered at her.

“ It doesn’t matter, it’s over. It’s all over. ” Justin hissed through gritted teeth, his hair was slicked with sweat and falling sloppily across his forehead. Angry tears pricked in the corners of his vision. Fear was starting to creep into y/n’s veins, a terrifying thought that he would crash them into the wall.

“ It’s not, Justin, it’s not. Don’t talk like that, Emma wouldn’t want us to think like that. ” She was trying to rationalize, pleading with him and hoping it would be enough to calm him down, but Justin was quick to become irrational.

“ Who gives a fuck about Emma?! ” Justin shouted, his voice breaking as the car picked up speed. They were practically flying down the street and panic was seizing control of her. “ She was just another whore, someone who couldn’t recognize when she had someone good. Someone who was good for her. ”

His words froze her, and cold spread like ice through her blood. “ What . . what are you saying? We loved Emma. ” She tried, thinking that maybe, just maybe he was still there. Her heart was breaking, and her thoughts were running back to the agent she’d made eye contact with in the station, find us, please.

Justin shook his head as he parked outside the apartment, he’d practically flung himself out of his seat and grabbed y/n’s arm, yanking her roughly into the building and up the flight of stairs towards his apartment. “ No - but I tried. I tried so hard. So hard to love her. But in the end it wasn’t  enough, Emma couldn’t see a good guy.” The tall boy snarled, opening up his apartment and throwing y/n in carelessly. “ Neither can you. ”

Spencer stood just outside Apartment 16, his gun gripped and ready. He shouldered his way in, from deeper in the residence he could hear Justin’s frantic voice.  “ You never saw it, instead you dated all those dicks in high school! I was there for you! Me - not them. But you’ll see now, all of you will. ” Spencer came up behind Justin, doing his best to be quiet, though he must have not been quiet enough. Justin whipped around, revealing the gun cocked dangerously towards y/n. He could spare her a quick glance only, she was curled up in the corner, sobbing. She was afraid, but so far uninjured. If he was lucky, then he could keep it that way. Spencer’s own brown eyes met Justin’s, those blue eyes were angry, angry and lost. The anger masked the terror beneath, and Spencer wondered if he knew he didn’t stand a chance. He was devolving so fast.

“ Justin, put the gun down. You’re not thinking straight. You, you hurt these women because you liked them . . didn’t you? ” His gun was ready to fire at the unsub, but his voice was soft and persuasive, he needed to appeal to this boy, “ That’s why you left the flowers. But those girls weren’t the important ones, were they? The important one is y/n, that’s why you’ve kept her alive. You love her. ”

Justin nodded, his grip tight on the gun, “ She doesn’t love me, all she had to do was love me and everything would be fine. But I was never good enough. Since first grade, I was there, and it still wasn’t enough for her! ”

“ You need to put the weapon down, because if you hurt her then you’ll never get a chance to be good enough . . to um, to prove how much you love her,” Spencer tried, his dark eyes pleading with the other man. The killer shook his head, sweat and tears soaking his face. He was falling apart fast, but it was becoming clear that this was only making him that much angrier, and that much more dangerous.  

“ I have proven it! I have! I killed those women, I tried . . so hard , to maybe get over her but it didn’t work. Because they weren’t her. None of  them were y/n. I even laid her favorite flowers by their bodies, it just so happened that they carried the perfect message. But this isn’t over yet, my final message needs to get out. ”

Spencer had no time to react, Justin had practically thrown himself at Spencer, the two boys falling to the ground and their guns slipping from their hands. Justin was throwing hits down hard on the agent, the heavier boy on top. When he felt the struggle beneath him still, he drew back. The doctor was alive, but unconscious. It doesn’t matter, Justin thought, standing with ragged breaths and lifting both the guns, by the time he finds us, it’ll be too late.

“ Justin, please, just let me go . . if you love me - ” y/n piped up, though she didn’t get far. A cry sounded when a bullet fired and embedded itself into her leg. Hot tears tracked down y/n’s face and agony consumed her, until the world went dark.

When Spencer Reid came back to, he was staring up at the worried faces of Aaron Hotchner and Dave Rossi. “ Kid, next time, letting us know where you’re going would be a good idea. ” Rossi told him, helping the young genius to his feet with a disapproving head shake of his head.

“ I did . . I told Hotch. ” Reid countered, looking around at the apartment which was being ransacked by agents. He rubbed the back of his neck, a soreness spreading through his body as consciousness washed over him. “ Justin . . he’s the unsub. I tried to talk him down, but it wasn’t enough. He took her.”

The rest of the team was looking around, trying to find a clue as to where he could have taken y/n. Reid only hoped they weren’t too late by the time they found him. Pain flashed behind his eyes, and he figured at first it was from the fight, but when the words flashed through his mind he knew it was more. Justin’s words echoed in his mind, “ First grade, he said .. he said he’d been there since first grade.” Spencer murmured, looking at Rossi with wide eyes. “ He’s devolving guys, and fast. This is a guy who cares about meanings and symbols, there were messages in the flowers. If he’s going to finish things off, it’s going to be in the place where it all started.”

Silence washed over Spencer, he shook his head, his fist nestles under his chin when he looked up, “ He wants to make her remember . . so she can appreciate his work.”

Morgan stepped closer to Reid, his dark eyes questioning, “ Remember what ?”

Rossi let out a surprised breath, looking at Spencer with unbending eyes, “ The day he fell in love with her . .  in the place where it happened.”

The rest of the team looked up, eyeing Spencer, then turning to their Unit Chief for further instruction. Hotch’s face tightened with alarm and he drew his phone out, already rushing out the door, “ Garcia, I need you to find out what elementary school Justin Ashford went to.”

Justin’s hand circled her wrist tightly, his other hand clutching the gun with such ferocity that his knuckles had gone as pale as the bones beneath the skin. It took all of y/n ’s will to not immediately cry out as her childhood best friend harshly pulled her across the floor of their first grade classroom. Memories of her time here flashed through her mind, laughter and a lightness about the time. Those memories would now be tinged darkly at their edges, as she would only come to associate it with the time she made a best friend out of a psychopath.

“ From day one - it was me ! It was always me, but you never noticed! You never noticed, just how much I cared about you, what I was willing to do for you! ”  Justin shouted, letting her wrist go as he threw her down onto the carpet, his blue eyes glaring down at y/n. Her breathing was ragged, heavy in her lungs with fear. She stared up at the once kind face of a boy she thought she knew, but instead she stared right down the barrel of a gun.

Y/n shook her head violently, tears coming down harder, heavier than they had before. She considered shifting up slightly, but the agonizing pain in her leg argued against it. “ Justin, justin - please, please don’t do this. ”  she begged, crying harder and trying to reach up to him. “ If you love me, like you say you do, you won’t do this. This isn’t love, Justin. ”

“ No, no, no . . I’m doing this because I love you, so we can be together, forever. Without any of them. Just us, like it should be. ” he argued, though she could hear it, the doubt in his voice. It gave her hope, just enough to let her shake her head up at him. Her face set itself defiantly and she reached for his wrist.

She opened her mouth, carefully considering the words that might be her last, “ Just, put the gun down. We don’t have to die, we can be together, right now.” She hoped the emotion in her eyes wouldn’t betray her, but at this point she could only try. “ Just the way we are . . don’t you want that ? ”  

Justin hesitated, crying heavily, his chest heaving. The battle raging in his mind was clear, it was evident in the way he gripped the gun too tight, in the way he grit his teeth, and in the way he couldn’t meet her eyes. But while Justin looked away, y/n saw beyond his head, saw the window. She could see the shapes of approaching figures, and her heart soared now. y/n licked her lips and reached out for his clenched knuckles, touching them gently despite the horror that spilled down her back.  “ Please, put the gun down. For me. ”

Her abductor didn’t even have a moment to answer, as the door was kicked down and in entered Agents Morgan and Reid, a slew of SWAT members following in behind them. All of them had their weapons pointed at Justin, alarm flashed in his eyes, then betrayal. His head whipped towards her and he lifted the gun, “ You lying bitc- ”

Bullets sounded off like canons, and y/n shrank back, bracing herself for the sharp and blinding pain. But it never came, instead she heard a heavy shape collapse. Slowly, she opened her eyes and saw the dying form of Justin Ashford, blood seeping from two wounds in his chest. Before she knew it, sobs racked her body, and for some reason her eyes found it impossible to ignore the sight of her best friend and would - be murderer.

Her cries were raspy in her tired voice, and she felt arms come around her, soothing words sounding numb to her ears. y/n wasn’t sure who’s arms she was in, but she didn’t particularly care. My best friend is dead, she thought, and he wanted to take me out with him.

The ride to the hospital was one she spent unconscious, finding it easy to slip away now that she was safe. When she woke, they had removed the bullet and she was so drugged up she could barely open her eyes. y/n’s eyes scanned the room, seeing it empty. The only thing there were a few books, probably left by one of her friends. A copy of A Tale of Two Cities was the only thing she truly recognized. Her mouth suddenly felt dry, well, she supposed she had no one now.  With a heavy heart, she was ready to shut her eyes to the world for a few more hours until she heard the small echo of a knock. y/n sat up straight, her eyes watching the door as Dr. Spencer Reid walked into her small hospital room, he looked at her curiously.

“ Are you feeling better ? ” he asked lightly, his eyebrows drawn as though he were thinking about every thought going through her head. Her heart dropped, no, the guy I thought was my best friend turned out to be a serial killer that was prepared to kill us both,  sick romeo - juliet style.

“ I’m better than I was before,” y/n admitted, which wasn’t a lie by any means. She would rather be in a hospital with a damaged leg than in the school building. After a beat of silent, y/n opened her mouth with a sort of caution to her words, “ He died, didn’t he ? ”

She knew the answer, she saw it happen. But she needed total confirmation. As a best friend and a survivor, she needed to know that he was gone.

Spencer stared at her, his face was utterly unreadable, so much so that for a moment y/n thought he wasn’t going to answer her, maybe just turn and stride out the door. But then he nodded, looking down as though the tiles were suddenly fascinating. “ Yeah, Justin’s dead. Morgan got him good. ”  he told her, pinching the bridge of his nose. She nodded, the words settled heavily over her chest. It was bittersweet. “ You know, y/n . .” he continued, taking in a sharp breath, “ There was nothing you could have done, people like him . . they believe they’re owed love. If it wasn’t you, it would have been someone else. None of this is your fault. ”

She was going to ask how he knew the guilt that pierced her soul, but then remembered that he was an FBI agent; he probably saw this thing so often he could write a book without even thinking in - depth about it. y/n nodded, swallowing dryly. Her eyes lifted to meet Spencer’s thoughtful gaze, his eyes were soothing and cool, a way to ground herself to reality. “ I know, he just . . he was my best friend. I didn’t even notice how far he had fallen until I was staring down the barrel of a gun. ”

“ We don’t always notice the signs until they’re too late, but Justin was far gone a long time ago, y/n. You can’t let that sit on your consciousness. ” He told her, his eyes fleeing hers to peer at the stack of books on the chair beside her bed. “ A Tale of Two Cities, huh ?” he questioned, walking over with his hands pocketed. He drew one hand out to lift the book, examining the worn paperback, with it’s cracked spine and yellowed pages. It had been a well loved book. “ You know, I never did care too much for this one. It’s uh, it’s one of two historical fiction novels he wrote. While it’s fairly accurate, it um, well it lacks some of the wit he usually wrote with. ”  the agent admitted to her, shrugging carelessly as though he didn’t just slyly denounce her favorite novel. A scoff sounded lowly from y/n’s throat and she shook her head, rolling her eyes at the lanky doctor.

“ His usual wit ? Right, so then what’s your favorite Dickens’ book ?” she countered, expectant and waiting to see where his taste would align. A secretive sort of smile haunted Spencer’s lips as he set the book down. His hand returned to his pockets, “ I wouldn’t necessarily say I have a favorite,” he started, dodging the question at first. “ Though, I’m partial to Great Expectations.”

Y/n snorted, nodding once. Her head lifted to stare up at the man who towered over her, “ For such a name it sure didn’t meet my expectations.” y/n argued, shrugging gently. “ It’s not bad, per say . . just , underwhelming. ”

“ Underwhelming? Really -”

“ Um, Excuse me, sir,” a nurse started from the door, regarding the both of them as though she were a stern mother, “ Miss Y/L/N could use the rest, if you want you can come back later.”

Spencer nodded, rubbing the back of his neck and raised two fingers to indicate he just needed a bit more time. The nurse let out an indignant breath, turning on her heel back out into the hallway.

He turned back to her with a tight-lipped smile, looking around the room. “ I guess that’s my signal to leave.” he announced, y/n nodded and thought for a moment.

“ Spencer, could you do me a favor and hand me the book you detest so much and a pen?”  she joked lightly, asking with a smile she hoped was appealing enough. He nodded, shaking his head at her request, though he wasted no time in handing her the items she’d asked for. Gratefully, y/n rushed to the front page, and scribbled her number down right below the title.  “ Maybe we can continue our book chat when I get out of here, until then you can re-read this and hopefully report back to me with some more sense.” y/n teased, clicking the pen shut and offering her copy to the dark eyed doctor. His eyes flickered between the novel and the girl he’d helped save only a mere five hours ago. Finally, he stepped forward and took the copy, holding it gently.

Technically, he had no reason to re-read the book, he had an eidetic memory and could read 20,000 words a minute. But y/n didn’t know that. “ I’ll give it another shot,” he conceded, lifting his eyes. “ Get some rest, alright? ”

He had already walked out the door and was far out of her line of sight. Even so, y/n knew she wouldn’t stop thinking about him until the next time she saw him.

[arnoldherrera]

A Glimpse of Brgy. Tanza 1

Wherever we are in the world, there would always be a risk for disasters especially when various environmental factors were to be considered. That is the reason why it is relevant to identify the hazards, to assess the risks and disaster management, and to determine both the safest and hazardous places in our community as a precautionary measure.

To give you a context, I live in Brgy. Tanza in Navotas City. However, due to its large size and vicinity as the only part separated from the main Navotas by the Tangos River, it has been decided upon recently to divide the lone barangay into two for a more efficient management. Hence, the formation of the barangays Tanza 1 and 2. 

PHOTO: Tanza 1 Barangay Hall

PHOTO: Ms. Ruby Delos Santos (left) with the barangay tanod (middle and right)

On November 30, I conducted my interview with Ms. Ruby Delos Santos, a BDRRM representative of our barangay - Tanza 1. She pointed out the different major hazards that our place has experienced for the previous years. Basically, what she gave are the common ones - flood, fire, and earthquake. However, the two of the most memorable disasters that happened would be the 1990 Luzon earthquake where in it was also greatly felt in Tanza and the wrath of Typhoon Pedring in year 2011. In fact, it was unexpected because what the officials predicted was that it would be the preceding Typhoon Ondoy who would damage our place. However, we never thought that it would be the succeeding typhoon who will deal the most destruction. For days, the whole barangay was immersed in floodwater. The neighborhood looked much like a sea already because the flood reached the stomach level. Luckily, after the road constructions in 2014, flooding incidents was greatly reduced to more than half. As for the fires, it almost never happens - which is a good thing. 

PHOTO: I pose for a picture together with Ms. Ruby, after our interview.

Barangay Tanza is near the sea which is why when it rains hard, the water level rises and it reaches the houses of those families who live beside it. As for personal experience, my cousins are actually living next to the sea, and when I visited again last month, it is obvious that the water level had increased too much already compared to how low it was nearly a decade ago when I was still a child. Due to this, they were forced to adjust and pull the moveable structures of their house in order to prevent them from being immersed in the waters. 

With all these disasters, the barangay finds it difficult to deal with them because it is only through weather forecasts that typhoons are being prepared for. However, in terms of earthquakes and fire, they are left empty-handed because these hazards are uncontrollable and unpredictable in nature, which is why they are always alert and make sure that there would be officials left to deal with emergency issues.

When asked about the place that would be at most risk, she mentioned the recently-established housing at the end of Sampaguita street because even though the space is wide, still they are the ones closest to the sea, and if a strong storm comes, it is definite that sea waves will reach them. Aside from the place, she also pointed out some groups of people that will be greatly affected by calamities. She said that it would be the elderly and the students. As for the former, due to their age, there is a high probability that they would get killed if not evacuated immediately. As for the latter, the only elementary school in the barangay which is the Tanza Elementary School is located just by the seaside. It is definite that students’ education would be easily paralyzed once the water overflows.

PHOTO: Tanza Elementary School

PHOTO: Baywalk just beside the Tanza Elementary School 

LOOK: People say that at midnight, gunshots would be heard here and dead bodies will be found next morning.

PHOTO: This is Chungkang Street where most of the marginalized families live and where crimes rampantly happen in Barangay Tanza 1

Disasters that happen do not only destroy the environment but it also affect many variables. Firstly, people are left with trauma (e.g. PTSD) especially the kids who are not yet used to experiencing such painful encounters. Secondly, the livelihood is also affected. One perfect example was the fire that happened in Tanza in early 2019. A fire started with a small eatery, and being near two other eateries, it resulted to a quick domino effect of fire and soon spread out to the neighborhood. Thirdly, having a large population to oversee is already a challenge. It would lead to a worse delivery of help and services if calamities happen. Lastly, repetitive disasters will lead to the weakening of the foundation of establishments and even the roads.

To further evaluate on the condition of our barangay, she pointed out some of our safest places including the Annex which is a basketball court, and sometimes, an evacuation site for victims. This can be found between Gumamela and Sampaguita streets. Also, there is the open space in front of the Noah’s Ark is a place where people can gather safely especially during earthquakes. Not only that, she also mentioned some of the hazardous places in our barangay. When talking about floods, it would definitely be the Tanza Elementary School and the end of Sampaguita street. When talking about earthquakes, it would be the barangay hall of Tanza 2 because it lies just beside the bridge that connects Navotas to Malabon.

PHOTO: Annex

PHOTO: Noah’s Ark Open Space

Unfortunately, it is not only the physical conditions of the barangay that is important to consider when dealing and resolving disaster-related problems. There are also hindrances or external factors that are needed to be weighed. Just like what was mentioned earlier, Tanza is the only barangay that is isolated from the rest of Navotas City. Even though the roads were fixed, still the fact that our barangay is separated, leaves the impression of being left out. Not all are familiar with our place, there are only 2 fire trucks, there is a lack of financial resources, and even if there are consistent earthquake and fire drills, still not every one is informed and monitored because of weak manpower. 

In order to combat these disasters, barangay Tanza 1 facilitates safety drills as mentioned earlier, as well as seminars complemented with the rounds done by barangay tanod for immediate urgent announcements. Not only that, the police are always alert and do their own patrolling at night to avoid crimes.

According to the plan, once a major disaster happens, the barangay captains of both Tanza 1 and 2 shall coordinate to deliver the needs of the people on both divisions. Patrol cars will be immediately deployed around the whole barangay to alert/inform the people of the evacuation plan. For Tanza 1, the evacuation site will be the Annex while for Tanza 2, the evacuation site will be the open space in front of Noah’s Ark. 

Of course, regardless of these plans, some calamities tend to be inescapable. Thus, for post-disaster treatment, facilities such as the Tanza Multi-Purpose Center, Tanza Lying-in Clinic, and the Annex can temporary shelter the victims of calamities. In collaboration with the Sangguniang Kabataan of Tanza, DSWD, and Manila Teachers Party-list, educational assistance is freely offered to students for as long as they would comply with the requirements needed. In terms of livelihood opportunities, when I walked around the community, I saw a number of food stalls which is labeled with “Brgy. Tanza Livelihood Project” which is led by the NavotaAs Hanapbuhay Center. Zumba Saturday mornings are also facilitated and is open to all. Also, there is an annual “Kabataan Sports Camp” spearheaded by Mayor Toby Tiangco where in teenagers may join and showcase their skills in various sports such as basketball and volleyball. 

LOOK: When I did my community walk, this was just one of the six instances where I saw boys playing basketball as a form of camaraderie.

PHOTO: Tanza Multi-Purpose Center

PHOTO: Tanza Lying-In Clinic

PHOTO: Side of Noah’s Ark which is being closed during Saturday mornings to give way for zumba activities

If there will be disasters in the future, the only ones available to help within the barangay will be the Bureau of Fire Protection Navotas City Fire Station, the Philippine National Police in Tanza 1 and 2, and the barangay tanod.

In my overall evaluation of our barangay and with the help of Ms. Ruby, I can say that the issues challenging our community are not inclined towards the actual disasters, but more of the resources to overcome them. As mentioned earlier, there is lack of financial resources, few equipment, and weak manpower. Despite being the only barangay separated from the rest of Navotas, fortunately, Tanza was still able to produce efficient projects and safety drills for the people. Distance and location is indeed an important factor which causes the development flow to be delayed. To resolve this issue, the barangay captains of Tanza shall be active and consistent in voicing out the needs of their people to the authorities of the main Navotas. This way, the divide would no longer be a problem as there would be a solid connection bridged by the barangay captains.

Disasters had been a huge problem concerning the whole world. In the Philippines, multiple incidents of flooding and earthquakes are almost always on the news headlines recently. Not only that, there still exists the scare brought about by the West Valley Fault. With that in mind, it is a must that disaster risk and reduction management shall be understood by the public. This is a matter of life and death even if the calamity only affected a small vicinity. Also, there are a lot of factors to consider in evaluating the disaster preparedness of the country. Many Filipinos are not entirely aware and alert of the whatabouts during calamities and this could be the reason why many of them will die when these happen. They also lack the discipline to obediently follow the safety plans and will do anything just to claim an advantage over others. 

After the kwentuhan and the community walk, I realized that I am ignorant of my own barangay, that I should learn. Even though I am aware of some of the facilities available, that is just it. That is all I know. I was, in fact, shocked when I heard that many projects are being accomplished for many beneficiaries. The community walk, for me, was refreshing. It became a way for me to reconnect with my childhood. It was a very long time ago since I last visited the places I used to go to. Now, as a young adult, I immediately saw the huge differences of today’s barangay from years back then. Upgrades on the road, houses, and facilities are observable. 

Knowing the hindrances brought about by the lack of resources, it is a must that we work together to at least alleviate these problems. We must do our part by participating in safety drills facilitated by the barangay officials, by taking the accountability not only of our lives, but as well as the lives of others in our actions, and by building a culture of communication among every one. With these, we can establish a foundation strengthened by trust and compassion for all. 

PHOTO: Tanza 1 Material Recovery Facility (MRF)

As a member of this community and this nation, I can help by being a responsible citizen. It may be a small action, but by throwing my trash to its proper place can be the game-changer of our current situation. Start with small efforts until you build a momentum towards achieving larger goals. Setting an example for others motivates a collective effort for long-term development.

PHOTO: Mikro Store Trash Bins (Proper Waste Segregation)

Discipline starts from within. Care for the environment and the rest will come in best. 

[calcdad]

What Happened™ with Artpop

Right so i’m not editing this i’m just going for it but try to follow along and if it’s a bit scrambled like do let me know but otherwise here we go

So like before I get started, it really should be known that this isn’t a conspiracy theory and the illumanati is super stupid and not real and not about this shit at all but really what this comes down to is a difference between an artist and a management team, but the way in which management ran things is very indicative of how sociological phenomena come into play when making such business decisions and it’s really interesting 

also a lot of this will be copied and pasted from my friend whom i elaborated on this with and slightly modified but i’m assuming if you’re reading this you don’t need much context for how much mystique shrouds the artpop era as well as the blackout era, which is a very necessary era to examine so that we can use tools from that to look further into artpop 

For like the last 18ish hours i kind of got back into gaga demos for whatever reason and found myself on youtube with all of those artpop conspiracy theories and “demos” and like eighteen different versions of partynauseous, the unwatermarked version of red flame (which i have and it’s like okay at best), and 70 pages deep into google later this is what i’ve really gathered 

Artpop’s failure was a flop because of sabotage by her management which she didn’t know about, and the purpose of the sabotage served to mark her as  martyr for pop music so that she could enjoy more long run consistent success like britney and not burn out so fast like katy 

Before going into artpop, look to Britney Spears, her elusive original doll era before her breakdown, and her life as a whole

In like late 2004-2005-2006, after she broke her knee and right before her breakdown, she was preparing for the release of an album called original doll. she even went to a Kiss FM interview and played the demo of the lead single, mona lisa, though i don’t know if she had permission to do this and people who are reasonable and not conspiracy theorists will tell you she didn't have permission and that's why the whole album was scrapped, but in 2004 she was one of the most powerful celebrities on the planet you know like that doesn’t really just happen to people with that power(?) anyways like keep in mind there’s no secret plot to kill these girls or anything, it’s literally all just about business

the album was talked about in i think a handful of interviews, was recorded, registered, etc, and just suddenly scrapped entirely, no warning. Like put on a “don’t ask about this” list, never spoken of again except for when it was remastered and put on the extended version of the singles collection in 2009, though there were edits to the lyrics etc that refined it from the song it was, which conspiracy theorists largely attribute as a foreshadowing of her fall, into something that makes it seem less ominous and more like “i’m the only one of myself”.

then look to her famous breakdown, note how blackout originally had a bunch of jazz tracks recorded for it (like let go, baby boy) and like it really isn’t crazy or wild for albums to shift direction dramatically like that indicates no conspiracy theory whatsoever. If anything it’s really just indicative of the fact that she was going through it and artistically she was trying to express her emotions but because she was going through it she couldn’t really like...do it with precision and stuff because she was all over the place and like this makes sense because she’s checked into rehab for amphetamine problems before, abuse of which can be required by pressing management to keep constant energy but also cause psychosis-like side effects which closely resemble her behaviour in 2007 but also like she’s recently confirmed that she has bipolar disorder and was likely not getting the treatment she needed! like, that’s normal, there’s no illuminati involved 

an important factor to point out is that Britney Spears has been a star all her life, and when she was signed on to be the songstress of baby one more time, she forever changed the boundaries that hollywood would have with women, and she was just the puppet for the idea. like, britney spears was 17-18-19 and on top of the world, SO sexualized when she was 17, and i’m sure to her she didn’t care because money and fame is promising at that age you know? but like the moment she was nearly nude on magazine covers when she was 17 and 18, it really gave photographers and directors the okay to gradually make younger and younger girls sexualized and poor britney is just out there living her career (which she may or may not have even really wanted as several interviews indicate)

But look further! She was harassed in interviews SO many times during her relationship with justin timberlake about her sexuality and she was a teenager! a young girl! Several industries, though it was clearly not their foremost goal, used the product of Britney Spears as a virgin to be deflowered before the world for our entertainment. What comes after she’s used up? that doesn’t really matter as long as she’s making the money at the moment

In looking at this, you really have to keep in mind that like...Britney Spears and Lady Gaga and Madonna and all entertainers are abstract entities of a sort. I’m listening to artpop as I write this right now, and those vocals on the track are stefani germanotta’s yeah, but like, Britney and Stefani are people off stage and when they’re out of the public eye. When you’re in nothing but the public eye for your entire life the way britney was, it’s not surprising to find that she might struggle with an identity crisis and wonder who she is at some point when she isn’t Britney Spears the performer. she isn’t stupid either, and i’m sure her current day activity is indicative that she’s reflected on who she was when she was younger and ignorant and she doesn’t want any part of that kind of a person anymore. Imagine living 25 years thinking you know who you are and then you realize that one day, who you’ve always been which is the person you are on stage, will some day step off the stage for good. you have to wonder a bit what is left with your life you know?

A N Y W A Y S britney had a great comeback from a legitimate personal struggle and like, she’s the comeback queen of our generation, but furthermore, her and her camp are guaranteed financial security from her product for at least another ten or so years. America loves a good comeback. We don’t love it enough to give her a #1, but she’ll scrape top 40 for the next ten years, and you know the clubs will never stop paying homage to her old music and poor remixes of her new stuff which isn’t even bad but is so clearly departed from the woman who went through the breakdown that it’s almost a new product entirely  

Set the stage to artpop: this was said to me by a friend of mine who cares about lady gaga much more than I do, and like, it doesn’t even seem that farfetched so i’m gonna copy and paste it here- "What happened was that her management team was pushing her to keep going after her hip surgery so she started self medicating in heavy doses of opiates and then her team saw the danger coming and saw the potential for lost money so they dropped her and left her addicted to opiates, a half healed hip, fibromyalgia and ptsd"

I mean, this sounds a lot like britney and her amphetamines to keep up energy for her workload right? But like, looking further, Lady Gaga had amassed a LOT of fame and power in SUCH a short time. This is a highly unstable structure in any discipline, be it economics, chemistry, psychology, or jenga. She was under a lot of pressure to keep surpassing the bar that she herself had raised so high, her hip being broken was awful, but also i know she’s intelligent enough to understand the sociological cycle of celebrities. 

There’s only one celebrity who comes to mind who can really handle being a public personality for an extended period of time the way these girls have to be, and that is Madonna. And like, that’s really why she’s around. She’s been at least 100 distinctly different people over her career because she draws a very clear, hard line between who she is as a performer and an icon and who she is as a person, and it is remarkable that she’s kept these two entities separate for so long. Her life is not always madonna the entertainer. She very much goes home, “clocks out” of being madonna, and goes back to a relatively normal life. She’s an entertainer as a job, and some of these girls become privy to the mindset of being the entertainer who they are, which can have sever psychological consequences.

Further, to again clarify the identity crisis that these people like, reasonably go through, is like “subliminal lyrics”. Like, i do think they put words in their songs sometimes, not because "it's the only way they can speak", but because they're so fucked that they really think it is the only way they can say something you know? Like these girls aren’t literally going to be murdered for speaking, but we have NO idea what is in their contracts and what they can and cannot say, especially in the stage of being massively popular but relatively new. They won’t die, but the legal or financial implications of fulfilling a certain image or product that the company wants to produce could be extremely severe that they could realistically never recover. This is nothing new, either. hollywood has always been like this and there is no reason to think that these girls couldn’t have gone through a similar position.

Do I think artpop would have done better if she hadn’t paraded around promoting it as god come to earth in an album? absolutely. It’s a phenomenal club album, it’s a glorious acid trip of a dance album, and she really should have just called it that. I do think that Artpop Act II was legitimately planned and she had such high hopes for all of this, but so much is also out of her control.

Personally, I haven’t really spoken to anyone who personally thinks artpop is as bad of an album as everyone said it was. Literally, not one person i’ve discussed this with thinks it was a bad album at all. Gaga herself seemed so...shocked that it did so poorly. I was shocked that it was received so poorly. Mainstream media ruined her over it, yet it debuted at #1 and was the 9th best selling album of the year despite coming out on November 6th.

So like, what I think happened is that her management strategized sociologically. They looked at Britney’s breakdown. Britney isn’t dominating top 10, but she doesn’t need to; she’ll always be relevant and rakes in 50 mil for an easy residency. Gaga had too much too fast, and the public is waiting to claw someone so perfect down whenever they can. Gaga could claim a couple more #1s and burn out like a shooting star, or she can tumble, come back, and plateau at 3rd or 4th consistently as opposed to 1st temporarily and 10th in the end. So like, i think that her management definitely paid for some of the reviews about artpop to be bad in order to get the ball rolling on such gamble. But I don’t think Gaga knew. Like, she split with her team during that era, so if they were going to leave her, they have no reason to tell her but also they could still profit and the gamble wasn’t with their own lives that they were playing with. 

the gamble of a comeback isn’t even a new strategy. Like, britney’s was organic, and gaga’s response was organic, but there have been staged comebacks.  Madonna’s initial stumble with erotica and her evita comeback were legitimate ones, but further comebacks with Ray of Light and Confessions were absolutely and meticulously calculated by a brilliant business woman who made waves and rode them like a surfboard to the top. What sold Artpop is Gaga’s dedication. She really believed it was a good album and was astonished when she appeared to be so wrong about how much the public would like it. And that drove her to work hard and readjust her craft.

And like, I do think that she’s looking back and realizing how ahead of its time artpop was. Look at that record as a business investment not so much immediately, but for the future. SO many songs we’re hearing today are reminiscent of the insane EDM that we heard on Artpop. Aside from the slight dip into hip hop and r&b brought about mostly by beyonce and adele’s respective presences, as well as the faux trend of country pop which is dying as quick as it came, Artpop is what is on the radio today. Mark my words and just like, watch HOW many think pieces will be written in the next five years hailing artpop as ahead of its time. Artpop laid the foundations for all of these DJs to make their mark on mainstream music, and consider what DJ White Shadow posted about artpop’s little sister. It’s a reflection artpop was never bad, and now is a better time moreso than ever to venture back into that kind of music. When music historians look back on music trends, i do believe Artpop will probably be one of the most, if not the most, important album in Gaga’s catalogue because it came out four years before all of this music and predicts the exact structure and flow of what is popular, yet at the time was deemed unlistenable, which, again, i do believe was paid for by someone in order to set up for something like this long-term business investment i’ve been describing.

What’s really funny to me about all of this, is that like, comebacks do not always work. Look at Witness. I’m sure that Katy will try to spin this as her blackout or her artpop but like, it won’t work for several sociological factors discussed above. First, katy took her place as first for a fast five years and i’m sure she’s burned out by now. People really are like...over her. Second, Witness won’t define, shape, or influence anything, as it’s all really current music specific to that period of time in 2016-2017. Third, the “breakdown” associated with witness isn’t authentic. Like, it could have been predicted a mile away from that comment she made at the grammys. The subsequent hair cutting and witness world wide and all of that stuff were management’s grasps at achieving the authenticity that britney and gaga had, and like gaga didn’t even really have a breakdown. The only breakdown that Katy is going through is like, realizing that she doesn’t really bring anything revolutionary to the table nor has she ever, even though she has records. She really was a vessel for producers and a record label to rake in the cash while she got to play famous for a bit, but she’s never stood for anything or really contributed artistically, and she wont’ be able to dig deep and “find something” worth redeeming. She has been manufactured from the start, but the tragedy of her is that you can tell that she really thought she was different and ahead of the game. The struggle for her will be for her to realize that she’s nothing that her team told her she was for ten years, and she’s gonna have to deal with that alone and it’s going to be really really hard you know? There’s nothing redeemable about katy perry. Gaga will be seen as an innovator, truly the top of the influx of pop girls in the second half of the 2000s all vying for britney’s place. Gaga will be remembered as the one with the insight, the foresight ten years in advance, and not some one off like fergie or gwen stefani. Katy did a little better in the beginning, but ultimately slow and steady wins the race. And witness was a gamble that producers lost on.

This was super condensed because I couldn’t get my ideas in order the way that I wanted them to be, but like TLDR: Artpop was a gamble by management in order to place gaga as a martyr who can bring longtime success and she’ll be remembered for being so insightful with her musical intuition and what she was doing in 2013 and the illuminati isn’t real but small businesses do shady shit with contracts all the time so is it really so unrealistic as to believe that they took a gamble on artpop when the cards where in their favour to do so with all of her potential energy from being on such a high pedestal? it really isn’t because like it worked sis lmao and that’s just how business works! 

[matrixbearer]

♞ ┊ ( drabble. )

❛ The Shared Weight of Loss ❜

— Rating: PG-13 — Ships: Optimus/Cade

summary:

Grief is a powerful emotion that few truly understand until they have it take hold. Unlike anger that can grow cold or fear that is overcome, grief becomes like a tumor on the soul. Optimus has had to carry so much in his life. There was once a time when the weight of it was shared by the support of his Autobot team. But, the current ones (brave and valued they may be), have never know the sheer volume Prime has taken in with each new life lost in his name. With one more on the list it grows the same, it is Cade who bears the bad news. What news could be so terrible? What loss could be so terrible? The fate of Samuel Witwicky && Mikaela Banes.

          As it had come to pass the last of the Witwiccans had died but their legacy would not remain to rot. Sir Edmund Burton’s estate had quickly passed into Viviane’s possession. Though this encompassed the residents of Burton’s so-called Transformer retirement home, it also included enough worldly possessions to make the study of Viviane’s father look like a cupboard under the stairs.

         Only remotely familiar with the castle, Viviane and Cade had crept into it with steps cautious for boobytraps, though they knew there was none. Cogman, whose personal familiarity surpassed Edmund’s own, had led the charge of taking inventory. They were so obsessed with cataloging the Witwiccans, to track what Transformers had come and who had gone, who they had found and who they had lost, all to piece together anything pertinent to Unicron.

         What chaos their world had become; their moon cut into quarters and their skies now shared with an alien world. That world was not even less whole than they or their moon; Cybertron had fallen apart at the tectonic plates and held together by vines stringing them out of the core. Even what power Quintessa had managed to siphon from Earth was not enough to even start the process of re-generating the dead world; Optimus knew that would not be so easy.

         It had never been easy—not from the start, not since he stood at the epicentre of so many battles and barred the many tribes of Cybertron from converging on each other. What Optimus had done may have looked easy to others, but it was far from so. Even so, it had been the obvious choice, natural even; not all in nature was ever easy. But his words washed over the armed audience and one by one the tribes became a unified world.

         It had never been easy—through his confession to his people had so vividly etched in the minds of each attending soldiers a new world of peace and justice, none of it was easy. They fought for to reclaim the greater legacy of their empire.

         And then the famine came. Energon so rare that their immune systems began to fail. Rust had never been to prevalent in their people so, now a blight so aggressive it tore through like a plague. But it was merely a side effect of the hunger they all shared, though it was never equal parts shared. From the famine came the hunt and discovery of the AllSpark. Soon to follow was Megatron’s war.

         The white cliffs of Dover were particularly splendid. The tides had changed according to the alterations of the nearest heavenly bodies, and still the waves crashed over with a sound like the pulse of a sparkbeat. A moor of green so lush it collapsed deep imprints under Prime’s feet, and it was so sodden with sweet rain that not a single blade could catch fire under the blaze of his thrusters. Much like most of Earth, England was a beautiful land, with a history hardened with difficulty and enriched with accomplished grace. Now to know how deeply connected England’s ties were to Cybertron, it all made sense how the architecture looked familiar.

         It would appear to be that Iacon had been much like Camelot; had their fair world been the images of Avalon?

         Cade had not yet been told much of Optimus’ pas, such as his experience as an archeologist && anthropologist, or the tribal history of Cybertron. He did not know how Megatron and Optimus’ sparks were divided when once entwined; how Sentinel Prime stood as their father, and betrayed them both to one another. Few friends had been named of Optimus’ past, and those who had had only been passing. It took a sharp mind to catch one from another.

         ❝ Sam? Sam Witwicky? He was a friend of yours, right? ❞  Asked Cade, whose farmer tan looked ridiculous under England’s grey skies. He had to look upwards to meet Optimus’ face.

         Yet again, Optimus could not help but think on how Cade had helped him, defended him, and saved his life.

         Not even the English wind could entirely silence the cacophony of metal as the titan folded his frame, leaning towards his human friend, and brought his face so much closer so they were Knight to Knight.

         ❝ Where… did you hear that name? ❞ His question was so carefully timed that the pause felt not for his sake, but for Cade’s. Prime had that way on others, and he was aware of it do some degree. When weapons failed, words prevailed, and no one could match combat skill to linguistic skill as he could. After all, Prime was old by even Cybertronian standards, and he was arguably one of their most educated.

         The old Autobot leader had a habit of diminishing his natural qualities, even to himself.

         Cade did not seem to mind, as he never did, and continued on with is purpose. In his hands were a stack of papers, some mismatched off receipts and torn ledgers, while others were beautifully coordinated with the crest of Burton’s family.

         ❝ Well, to be honest big guy, I listened in on you and ❛Bee. I heard you mention to him, ❞ Cade was so true to human nature, looking both defiant and sheepish at his confession of invading their privacy.

         Hydraulics hissed with the movement of his head, bent lower to the ground and angled towards the wind. ❝ Very well. ❞ It seemed that with two words Cade was forgiven his indiscretion, though that may have been because he had had been intrigued else wise with their dialogue. ❝ Sam was our friend—my friend, the first I made when I came to Earth. Bumblebee was his guardian. Why do you ask about— ❞ [ The boy? ] ❝ —Sam Witwicky? ❞

         With just a wave of his filled hand, Cade indicated more to the contents than to papers he held onto. If Optimus had seen his friend’s face grim before, he saw it again now. A lurching noise came from the largest Autobot; the bitter taste of apprehension.

         ❝ I think this is the list of the Witwiccans and their allies for the last two centuries, like a roster. It goes back a long way. But… it was also pretty recent. ❞ When Optimus said nothing else, it prompted Yeager to explain himself further. ❝ It seems the Witwiccans had many different variations around the world. Some lost track of their involvement, but Burton’s family kept track of them all. ❞ Nervous now, he fingered the edge of the stack and glanced towards the jagged edges of a worn away corner.

         His consciousness, so vast in its enormity and antiquity, was beyond that of any human. Time dilation through the wormhole that bridged their two worlds dictated that their comparable ages were constantly in flux, changed with each passage through the vortex. The Knights of Iacon were ancient, even by Cybertronian standards. Optimus was ancient by human standards. His thoughts moved with an entirely different set of metaphysics and yet—

         This human, who possessed a true Heart of Purity, who saved his life more than once, who believed him anyone else would have traded him for a reward…

He deserved at least a little bit of Prime’s truth.

         Silence for now, and Optimus knew silence well. It may have been the absence of sound, but it was not without meaning. The timing and pretext gave context to what Cade was trying to tell him, and the old robot pieced it together.

         Only after he stalled his vents, tasted the steam across his dental grill, and pulled his frame back a fraction so small to him but immense for his human friend. Alas he spoke, with a voice like the edging shadow at the mouth of a cave, though not to ask but to state for the record, ❝ The Witwickys were once Witwiccans. ❞

         Unlike the Autobot, Cade would not hold on much longer to answer. Immediately he blurted out, ❝ Yes, and I did find a Samuel Witwicky. ❞

         ❝ Hmmm…. ❞ He adjusted to half turn towards the cliffs, hummed his muted thoughts, and looked so far away that the landscape disappeared to the far reaches of the water’s edge. Cade would know that look—not because they had spent so much time together for there was never that opportunity. Instead it was because for all their differences the Transformesr and humans were not so different; everyone looked that way when deep in thought. Deep he was, so deep that Optimus fell down the void where all thoughts and memories into a morass.

         Conjecture sometimes meant everything, and Optimus had to sometimes act on it. He turned towards Cade and eyed him as equals might, with one ready to comfort and the other apprehensive to confess even the need. It was Prime who had that needed after his support system had been widdled down too nothing. Nothing but this man.

         ❝ Sir Burton told you that he was the last of the Witwiccans. If this is true than it would mean— ❞

         Both knew the meaning. Years of Texas sun and unrelenting time in the badlands had scarred Cade’s face with etchings of worry and strain. His frown was doubly visible, filled with remorse that he had not earned.

         ❝ Yeah, sorry big guy, Burton marked his status as KOA—killed in action, along with who must be his parents, ❞ informed the inventor, again with that great remorse. His voice was strained with pity and sorrow, none of those things Optimus wanted from others.

         Not when he felt them so deeply.

         Never had Prime forgotten that on this world he was a titan, and among his people of similar titans he was another titan. In comparison to their capacity for greatness (in many forms, human diminutiveness had always marveled Prime so much. He cherished how they made themselves larger than their limited stature, how they surpassed the footprints of giants that came before them. When the measure of humans like Cade’s virtues were measured in the balance, their shadows were matched.

         Now he felt his spark once more into shadows. Under the weight of Cade’s news and the strength of the winds off the moor, Prime all but swayed in his crouched position; few would notice such a shift in the grandness of Optimus’ bulk.

         There were moments when thought surpassed the linear curve of time; when it defied all physics and did so within the ether of sentience. It was here that Prime had fallen into, where shadows dwell and light burned sparsely. Where the burning horizon of Cybertron’s last days filled him with the stench of spilt fuel, and to the visual recordings of Ratchet’s head so crudely melted down to parts.

         He could see it now, a refuse for assuage of happier memories now tainted with great loss. Many washed over at once, their digital edges pixellated into mismatched puzzle pieces. Still it ran congruent and not concurrent, with no linear sensibility to follow.

         It had been his first time on Earth. He had seen worlds with vegetation, but not as the green that crawled across the larger brown, whose edges reached outwards until the greater mass of blue was met. Occasionally there were caps of white, white so bright it blinded with the reflection of the sun. This was Earth from whence he had first seen it, and that faraway first sight was no marvel in comparison to when he breached the atmosphere—ignited in flames, stars that fell from heave—and landed on this world’s soil. No time was wasted and he had taken his first human-designed alt-mode. The roads were smooth in places and rough in others, and the winding paths led him towards Bumblebee’s location—

         Bumblebee! His friend had gone to Tyger Pax to buy him time—          The cube sent towards the stars—          ❛ Look to the stars and think of my soul— ❜

         An even fog had parted and flowed over the ridges of the Peterbilt’s grill, and with a hiss he came to a full top in front of a scrawny human male and his female companion. Unwilling to introduce himself with a holoform, Optimus revealed himself to share open truth with the boy in an attempt to building friendship with honesty. This was his first transformation since arrival, and the armor was cut with such difference compared to his form on Cybertron. Everything was sharper and more angled. So he relished the transformation, drawing it out like an adagio  movement slowed down to allegro. It was all to feel how it pieced together—how he pieced together. Alien though it had been it still felt good to not be in Entry Mode.

         With a great roll of his neck to stretch the taunt cables and wires, Optimus had felt out the newness of this world with great excitement and hopefulness.

         It had been Samuel Witwicky. A boy he needed more than any man would ever know.

         His open face showed little else but the flickering of his optics, that shuttered from dim to bright, dark again, before something more medial settled in. In his reverie he had turned to look to Cade, saw a man who was more his equal and less a young friend, he confessed, ❝ He was a friend to the Autobots; our first human friend. He helped us defeat Megatron many times… ❞ In his pause was the shutter of his optical wiper blades. ❝ He was so young. ❞

         Cade stepped forward with hand stretched out like anyone would to offer comfort and contact. But, they did not touch. To the point the man said, ❝ I’m sorry. ❞ What a weak attempt at comfort.

         Again a crown of thorns was perhaps best served to hang atop Prime’s head, that hung with great penance. With each new loss Prime felt older, weaker, worn away until all the grace Cybertron once bestowed on him had been dwindled into human-like smallness.

         He would not weep, not as man might. That had never been how Prime settled his emotions, not even in the most aberrant of grief. This was nothing new to the Autobot leader, not when he had seen Cybertron’s fall and known Megatron’s repeated treachery until the brotherhood was no more. He had lost the last of his team, the closest sparks to come near him since Megatron’s first betrayal. He had seen humanity turn their backs on him time after time, when fear beget anger worse of mankind.

         No, that wretched sense of loss was kept within to leave its mark. But Cade had begun to see the signs, and this was a display of no surprise. So it was Cade that took the first step to be there in Prime’s time of dolefulness.

         There was no one else.

It was with a small and gentle touch with a warmth unlike even living metal that Cade bega to break Optimus free of the attritious chains binding him in this great remorse. See, the size of a human’s hand was so tiny compared to the large plates of armor that built up the statuesque paladin.

         May this mortal man never forget that He was a knighted king without crown or country.

         The sound of hissing hydraulics finally broke the reverie, and Prime looked towards his friend in equality. Once more he was reminded of their sameness. For in Cade’s eyes was an understanding few could know so well; what a well of loss did to the soul, how it left it agape, and how nothing could ever meet that void.

         [ The man had know his own losses well. ]

         What would words could describe the bond he shared with Cade? He had ever told the Texan his worth in Prime’s eyes, not to its fullest extent, but in smaller belittled allocations.

         Now was a time for confessions, and Prime said, ❝ I loved that boy dearly, more than he ever knew. ❞

         Because Prime had never told him so plainly. But when he said them now Cade walked onto the big guy’s arm and crawled down the armor. He kept his balance with little grace as Optimus rotated his limb and exposed his open palm.

         Cade was then crouched in it on his own. Massive metal fingers curled inward, nearly cupping the human knight against the thoracic plates felt their hottest.

         Where Optimus Prime’s spark was kept shielded, Cade was loosely cupped against. Without words their shared the meaning of loss between one another. Without words they shared the meaning of love between one another.

         Their company was without words.

         When at least they broke their company of silence, Cade asked in curious sharpness, ❝ Hey, who is ‘ Banes, Mikaela ’ ? Because she’s the only one marked with a status of unknown. So, she could be alive! ❞

         May the stars above see once more how bright his spark could burn, now he felt joy at last with hope in little moments of enormity; Optimus smiled gently, more so in the twinkle of his optics than anything else.

         Mikaela Banes may be alive.

Writer’s note: I started to punch this out after my second time watching TLK and while I was talking to @untamedheart​ & @yeagerxrobotics / @robotxwrangler individually. I kind of tossed it to the side and then some discussions with @mechanicmikaela pumped me back up because it all ties into my headcanons that Mikaela is on the run, alive, and with the knowledge that Sam is dead Optimus would be overtaken with a more grateful sense of relief. Then there is the comparison to how Optimus feels paternal to Sam & Mikaela, there is how he feels equal to Cade.

[gwynne-fics]

Becoming Royals

separation p3

Rachel wasn’t expecting Hyo-Shin. Lee Chan-Hyuk was coming personally to congratulate her on her pending move to the palace but Hyo-shin was not supposed to be part of the delegation. Mother said this was a test. Queen Kyung-Ran made her dislike of the man very clear. 

“His son and mine are very close. I worry about the day that Young-Do might have to exile the entire family. I worry he might hesitate because of his love for Lee Hyo-Shin. Lee Chan-Hyuk wants to be prime minister since he cannot be king. He tried to engage Lee Hyo-Shin to Lee Bo-Na but our king refused the match.”

“Lee Bo-Na? The king’s first choice?”

Queen Kyung-Ran laughed softly and patted her hand. “She can best my son in half of their matches. That is not the stuff love is made of. Her father is General Lee and he taught her along with the boys. She a very sweet girl, a kind boy, and just recently discovered dressing up like a lady. You will like her, I think, and she will be a good friend inside the palace. The other ladies don’t like her because she’s so familiar with the princes.”

Rachel heard the lesson poignantly. She reminded herself not to make the mistake she did with Jeon Hyun-Joo. Learning about this entire other life that Young-Do had was difficult. Mother tried to prepare her for leaving everything she’d ever known. She promised to send Eun-Sang with her after Rachel begged on her knees for it. But Young-Do wasn’t giving up his entire world. His friends would still be there for him.

So the sight of Hyo-Shin racing through the city surprised her. Normally, a courier was simply sent ahead, not the first son. Rachel came out into the courtyard as hostlers took his horse and tried not to be jealous she didn’t have one anymore.

He was pale and disheveled and her stomach sank. She rarely ever saw Hyo-Shin scared and panicked. He met her eyes and she just...knew. “Is he hurt?”

“The bridge collapsed and his shoulder had to be put back in. He held it up for almost an hour so the trapped workers got out. No one died and there are very few broken bones.” Hyo-Shin swallowed and she tried not to cry. He ignored all decorum and hugged her tightly. “His letter is on its way. Rachel, my father sabotaged the bridge with rotten wood. He paid the inspectors to ignore it. I’m trying to find proof past what he’s said to me but it is not easy. Whatever he is trying to get you to do, you cannot do it.”

Rachel buried her face in his shoulder. “He held a bridge up on his own back?”

“They are calling it proof he has the heavens on his side. Rachel, it is too soon for him to be this popular and it makes the king...anxious. Once he heals, once you are pregnant, the king will send him to war. My father cannot become the king’s prime minister. Young-Do...” He choked on his name and Rachel pulled back to look up at him. His face was stained with tears and he looked so broken.

“Oh,” she whispered and her heart ached for them both. “Why didn’t you tell me that the crown prince was your first love? I already knew it was a man. Did you think I would be distraught and jealous?”

“You were distraught and jealous,” he tried to make it a joke and she pulled out her handkerchief to wipe his face. “I was not going to make it worse.” He pulled her hand away from his face and tried to regain his composure. “I know how smart you are. You cannot avoid my father. I just...you need all the information you can get. Our prince misses you. Prince Myung-Soo keeps trying to get him out of the palace and into the pavilion but it isn’t working very well.”

Rachel looked away. “He promised himself to me. Prince Myung-Soo should respect it.”

“I cannot wait for him to meet you. The palace is unprepared for you and it will be fantastic to watch them scramble to keep up. I need to speak with the queen. You have about an hour before my father arrives. I outpaced the courier. He doesn’t know I came.”

“Eun-Sang is preparing your room. She’ll help you clean up and sneak back to the palace after you speak with the Queen. Thank you.” She leaned up and kissed his cheek before she gathered her skirts up into her hands and ran back into the house and started giving orders to prepare the house. Then she went to her mother to ask her advice. Rachel spilled everything Hyo-Shin told her out in a rush and could not sit still. “Tell me what to do, Omma. I’m not ready for this.”

“You are,” Mother said firmly. “Sit down and I will give you the questions you need to ask him to remind him that convincing you is the most important thing. Do not be intimidated simply because his the minister of justice. It is no different than talking to any of the guild leaders into donating for your school.”

Rachel closed her eyes and sunk to her knees. “He hurt Young-Do. I cannot forgive that.”

“No one is asking you to.” Mother took her hand and cupped her cheek. “But you must wait until you have the power to punish him. You are good at choosing your words. You can do it now.”

“I still don’t know why the king chose me. I am from the outskirts of the country. I know nothing about what is going on in the palace. Abeoji is dead and not a political player. I’ve spent the last few years working on community projects. I looked at our star maps, Omma. There is nothing special about our stars.”

Mother sighed when she stood and started pacing. “Why would you look at such useless things? And why would you discount your community efforts? Queen Kyung-Ran has mentioned them several times. I’ve allowed you to run our household for the last year with minimal supervision. You’ve handled all our guests and they know it. Word gets around Rachel. I’ve made sure of it. My family is still very influential. Your grandfather still sits on Dong-Wook’s council.”

That shocked her. She didn’t know Mother thought she should be queen. There was a quiet knock and one of the servants announced the courier. Rachel stopped pacing and Mother stood. “I should get Min-Ki up from his nap. Attend her majesty.”

“Yes, Omeoni.” Rachel found Queen Kyung-Ran sitting in the garden, one of her ladies fanning her while they fixed her makeup. Rachel bowed and waited for her to acknowledge her.

“This man is trying to kill my son because he knows he will be a better king than his father,” she whispered dully. Queen Kyung-Ran closed her eyes and Rachel knelt down beside her and took her hand. “He believes Myung-Soo is weak and easy to influence. Now my king will be paranoid and take it out on my Young-Do. He has come to gloat.”

“I will not let him. Young-Do is strong, my queen. I watched him dispatch the Kim’s men. Holding a bridge on his shoulders is the least he could do as the crown prince to show he can carry his people.”

Queen Kyung-Ran slowly smiled and then kissed her hand. “I doubted my king’s choice before I came here. I am glad to be wrong. Stand up. I am sorry but I will have to cut your lessons short. I think you will do well in the palace but if Young-Do is hurt, I cannot remain.”

“I understand, my queen.” She wished with all her heart she could go with her. Rachel bowed and waited for the table to be set and drinks set out. She was not good at serving men drinks. Mother called it her one flaw. This afternoon, it would have to be a strength. Lee Chan-Hyuk arrived and even though they had met several times over the years, she disliked him even more now that she knew he was trying to take a position that did not belong to him.

Hyo-Shin looked nothing like him, yet people constantly praised him for being the spitting image of his father when he was young. Rachel thought someone was lying. Pleasantries and formalities were exchanged before they sat down to eat. Rachel poured his tea and ignored the way he looked at her.

“It is a pity my son never saw you as more than a friend. I encouraged him but he insisted it wasn’t possible. Is that true on your end, Lady Rachel? A fine woman is capable of changing a man’s mind and you are quite the woman.”

She sipped her tea and tried to find a truthful yet diplomatic answer. Her feelings for Hyo-Shin disappeared the moment she caught Eun-Sang blushing over him the day they’d gone to the lake and he’d stripped down to go swimming. She’d been fourteen at the time. It was easy to let go of that crush for Eun-Sang. Once she understood their obligations better, she decided she didn’t want to be in a situation where she had to compete with her Eun-Sang over a man’s heart.

And once they were seventeen, Hyo-Shin looked at Eun-Sang with such an intense longing to match. It had been much too fun to play the game of whispered secrets, knowing each was in love with the other but not in a position to make any sort of love confession.

“Yes. We met as children and saw each other grow up. It is awkward to think of him in any other context. I am glad that he is friends with my prince. I don’t think any other man would be as understanding.” Rachel felt a tiny thrill at the smug smirk he tried to keep to himself. He thought he was winning. Mother said that was important to let men believe they were winning all the way until the moment they weren’t.

“To your continued friendship with Lee Hyo-Shin.” Rachel inclined her head gracefully and caught Mother’s faint approval. “I have heard rumors that our prince is in love with you and looking to fund one of your community projects in the capitol. I am eager to support our new crown princess. I hope to work well with you in the future, Lady Rachel.”

She had to tread softly here. “And what is it you are looking for in return? I must be careful, Minister Lee. My relationship to our prince is new. I wish it to continue to be good. I want him to trust me when I speak. I know he has reservations about the position ever since the rebellion with Kim Nam-Yoon. And when I ask him for favors, I want him to grant them.”

“It is no secret I want the king to name me as prime minister.” Rachel tried not to be shocked that he just came out and said it until she realized he thought that because she was a woman, she wouldn’t understand his point subtly. He looked down on her and it burned warmly under her skin. She’d just hinted that Young-Do confided his thoughts to her! He should’ve taken the hint.

“Alright. Convince me of your qualifications, Minister Lee. If you can convince me, my honesty to my prince will come through.”