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typewriterghcst · 3 years

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Title: But For Me It Was Tuesday Rating: also G-ish, but some allusions to probably what we would consider child abuse in the modern day lbr Characters: one (1) OC, Baron, Natori, Yuki Summary: The events of The Cat Returns, but told through the eyes of the smallest-- oh, sorry, my mistake— the youngest kitchen maid in the service of the Cat King. No romantic pairings. A crush or two may be mentioned, though. Notes: Written for the 2020 TCR Birthday Bash, even though I emphatically missed the deadline rip. This one was for the prompt of ‘Movie Extra’, which I took to mean, well, pretty much just what I wrote— the events of the movie as a backdrop to another character’s everyday life, lmao This is another one that isn't Entirely Finished, but I've been working on it since June-ish and I've just lost all motivation to finish it. Though, unlike the last one I posted that was unfinished, the only part missing from this one is the ending. There's also a part in here involving Natori that needed to be changed, but I liked the wording and imagery of it, and never did get around to figuring out where else to put it, so some of the pacing in here is Off rip

&&&

She oversleeps. That's the first unusual misfortune that happens to her on this particular day. Opens the day, no less, she thinks to herself as she forlornly stokes the ovens' gently smoldering fires. Her ears are still ringing from the boxing she'd received— the fact that Cook had had to include a little hop to even reach them means what little pride she has feels just as bruised.

Were she a more superstitious, flighty sort, she might even have taken this setback as the first of likely many portents of an upcoming stressful day. But instead she is only Topolina, the youngest (but emphatically not the smallest; more on that later) kitchen maid currently languishing away in the employ of the illustrious royal castle of the Cat Kingdom.

Of course, it’s there she stops herself. It’s only the chaos of the morning that has her using such bitter language. She should try harder, she tells herself, not to linger on the unpleasant aspects of her current existence, and instead focus on… on… well, she supposes there’s something to be grateful for in all of this.

Like…

Oh! She has a home. A relatively nice bed to sleep in. And meals, every day.

...Meals which she is most often forced to wolf down in the kitchen in solitude as she tends the fires and keeps a watchful eye on the simmering pots.

Ah.

Perhaps she needs a bit more practice with this gratitude thing, is all.

It’s entirely possible her recent light resentment had begun with her very name, Topolina, a name which had been quite fitting when she stood at least two heads shorter than all the other kitchen maids, one she'd even perhaps viewed with some fondness for its endearing quality. And yet, alas, it now exists as a name which seems only heavily ironic— that is, now that she's hit the tender age of fourteen and found herself towering over all but the very tallest of cats. It feels to dear Topolina like some massive, omnipresent joke that she remains her old timid, meek self, still eager to fade into the background and disappear... now without even the faintest hope of being able to do so.

Metaphorical salt in the wound is the undeniable fact that her pinafore's hem, once perfectly aligned with her ankles and cutely poofy, now drapes awkwardly far above its original position. Perhaps it’s comparatively trivial atop all her other complaints, but when she finds herself thinking back to her old unassuming silhouette, she can’t help but feel at least a little crestfallen. Nowadays, she feels quite akin to a pitifully overgrown shrub, no matter how many well-meaning words to the contrary she receives.

All in all, she imagines such a thing might make anyone feel rather less than appreciative.

It’s as she’s sitting there alone before one of the nine stoves in the palace kitchen, contemplating her rotten luck, that she hears— well. She’s not sure, exactly. It’s something of a crunching sound, like rusted metal grinding against itself, and she can’t imagine what its source could be. She stands, and gingerly inspects the oven itself from every angle she can think of. She even studies her fire iron. Yet still she comes up empty-handed.

Defeated, she flops back down in her original spot.

And then— she squeaks, because the ground under her is moving, slowly twisting back and forth as if she’s sitting on a lazy top. She leaps (falls is more accurate) off the emerging ground once her mind comes back to her, once it stops panicking, and stares in confounded shock as the very spot she’d been settled atop transforms into what appears to be a long-forgotten manhole covering. How long had that been there?! She’s never been made aware of an old servant’s tunnel in this area!

Her perplexion only deepens when she spies just who has made use of this abandoned tunnel— a cat much like herself, though she thinks that he looks quite a sight better than she would have had she just crawled through a dirty tunnel. His off-white suit is pressed and smart, for one, and hardly has a tear nor even a wrinkle to show for the abuse he’s no doubt just put it through.

His sharp gaze falls then on her, and she’s suddenly acutely aware of her ill-fitting, nearly threadbare pinafore, the scuffs of dirt and soot smattered across it, and her probably unkempt fur, smudged and mussed from fire-tending. Oh, if she could just will the earth itself to open its maw and swallow her up—!

“Ah,” he starts, in a much gentler voice than Topolina had expected, turning to her and offering a hand to help her up, “I apologize. It was not my intention to startle you.”

“N-No, it’s okay,” she stammers, taking his hand without thinking. (Were she in a right state of mind, she’d never do such a thing— the very last thing her poor Young Maiden’s Heart could stand is for a handsome gentleman to struggle to lift her.) He pulls her up with little difficulty, though, and in her chest she feels a very peculiar thump, and then a flutter.

“A-Are you here for the king..?” She asks impulsively.

He doesn’t answer immediately, appearing to think that over for a fleeting moment, perhaps aware of the myriad of ways the pairing of her question and his response could be interpreted, before he makes his decision.

“Yes. I would like to have an audience with him. It’s a matter of utmost importance.”

“Y… you’re not here to kill him, are you?” She whispers, perhaps irrationally afraid that the king himself might be listening in on her. And yet, not too irrational— she’s seen his spying Cat’s Eye floating languidly about the castle on more than one occasion.

There’s something pitying in his gaze, she thinks, but he replies graciously enough. “You have my word, miss. I am not here to usurp or otherwise harm your king.” Then, while dusting some nonexistent dirt off his clothes, “I do believe I will need a change of wardrobe, however. It won’t do to adress a king while clad in anything less than my finest, will it?”

He says it without flinching, and in such an earnestly straightforward fashion, that Topolina herself is almost led to believe there really is some flaw with his clothing that she simply can’t see.

“Oh!” She says then in sudden inspiration. Without explaining herself first, she scampers to the open alcove behind him, separated only by an unfinished wall. The kitchen servants have long used the area as a makeshift coat rack, and one particularly bizarre ensemble has been there for as long as she can remember. She comes back around the wall bearing the large hat and cloak before offering it to him, embarrassed now that she realizes that, judging by her actions, this is what constitutes ‘his best’ for her: an absurd hat and a dusty, worn cloak.

He himself appears no less than enchanted at her offering, however, and when he stands before her with the hat cocked just slightly on his head and azure mantle thrown over his shoulders, Topolina finds she’s again being assaulted by those odd, vexing heart palpitations. Is she really such a nervous thing? ...Yes, she answers herself firmly. Yes, she is. But she’s far from convinced nerves are to blame in this instance.

“Oh,” she breathes eventually, clasping her paws together and resting them against the edge of her cheek. “You look like you came out of a storybook.”

Well… that was more childish than she meant it to be.

“Then it’s perfect,” he says succinctly. Then, removing the hat and inclining his head to her, he adds, “Thank you for your assistance, ah—”

“Top— erm, Lina.”

“Miss Lina, it is. I’m quite grateful for your help. I am sorry only to startle you and then run without so much as a token for your assistance, but it’s imperative I make good time.”

Topolina shakes her head. “It’s okay— I-I don’t mind!”

And with a final bow, he leaves her and the kitchen behind.

&&&

Peculiar dashing stranger aside, the rest of her day passes in relative normality. There’s a clamor about the servants some time later, and she catches snippets of an excited buzz about something happening with the prince (something that ties in with a group of special guests, but she’s yet to put together how) as she goes about her duties, but in all, for how bizarre the day started out, it all strikes her as rather uneventful.

She’s instructed eventually to scour the floors in the audience chamber in preparation for a banquet, which means filling an old rusted tub with hot water and soap, and then carting it to said room. She’s no stranger to the task, of course, and thinks nothing of trudging through the hall with this metal burden in her arms.

Perhaps as penitence for her lack of investment in the day’s continuing Wonders, another ill-fated obstacle is tossed onto the tracks before her. In this case, literally.

Earlier that day, a courier had accidentally overturned a loose stone in the hallway floor. Scratching his head, staring down at the disturbed piece of clay as though it had personally insulted him in the most obtuse way possible, he’d eventually looked from one end of the corridor to the other and quietly snuck it back into place, hoping it wouldn’t be noticed.

Unfortunately, Topolina notices.

With a decidedly unfeline-like squawk, she trips over the rogue stone; the tub in her arms ends up the victim of gravity, as we all so unfortunately are.

And who should turn the corner then but Natori, just in time to be the unwitting second victim of her bad luck— drenched by the ensuing sheet of warm, sudsy water and so jarred by it, it seems he can do little other than look rapidly from his own sodden person to her no-doubt horrified countenance for near a full two minutes. In the fraught silence that follows, his glasses clatter to the earthen floor, and the tiny sound echoes in her ears like a gunshot. Trembling, Topolina instantly drops to her haunches, paws clapped together in desperate and tearful pleading.

"I-I'm so sorry, sir! Please, I beg your pardon— I didn't mean— i-it was an accident!"

"...Topolina," Natori finally interrupts quietly, gently, even, but the hum of exasperation vibrates just underneath his patient tone like a trapped butterfly, "—retrieve a mop and a towel, please.”

“Of course, sir! R-Right away!”

&&&

It’s afterward, as Topolina does her best to mop around him while he tries to dry himself without incurring any extra… floof, that Natori deems an appropriate time to address his reason for coming this way in the first place.

“It’s possible that Cook may have instructed you about this task already, but the kitchen staff will likely be needing every pot and pan that can be spared for today’s dinner, so do ensure that you tend to the ones that have been, er, languishing in... that corner.” When she chances a glance at him, she sees that his gaze is inconspicuously trained on a particularly infamous corner of the palace kitchens, one where abandoned cookware is just shy of creating its own ecosystem by now. For a brief, heart-pounding moment, some measure of indignation rises in her; she’s so very close to telling him she isn’t the one to blame in this instance! ...At least, not the only one.

Ah. Alas, once more. Her courage withers in the face of this culpability, small as it may be. Instead, she goes back to her doleful mopping. Still, there is at least enough nerve left in her to present him with one continuing question on the topic.

"Is it... is it for the special guests?"

Natori pauses, giving her something of a searching glance. "...It is, yes." Then, after a few seconds spent appearing to think this over, he continues ringing out the bottom hem of his robe. It seems at some point while she was distracted, he’d laid the drenched towel at his feet. "I see word spreads fast through the kitchens."

To herself, she thinks that he has no idea how true that is, nor precisely how fast it truly does.

Finally satisfied with all that the towel can accomplish in drying him off (and evidently feeling his now damp robe will no longer leave any puddles as he wanders through the castle), he returns it to her. "Now, Topolina, please try to keep the mishaps to a minimum. We do have an exceptional guest today, after all."

She only nods frantically, all too aware of her ears flapping up and down. To this, he gives an approving nod of his own, and then finally turns on his heel and leaves. Secure in her admittedly paltry position for at least another day, Topolina breathes a sigh of relief as she puts the mop away.

...An exceptional guest, he’d said. Curiosity flares again, this time stronger than before, and she can’t stop wondering just who they could be. For the most fleeting of seconds, she remembers the cat who had interrupted her delayed routine this morning, but he’s quickly waved away.

Honored guests did not arrive to their own commemoration by climbing through old servants’ tunnels.

&&&

Once the dirtiest, most grime-caked pots and pans are finally scrubbed to perfection, she peeks around the corner in search of Cook or Natori, wondering what other (insignificant) part she may have to play in the care of these exceptional guests. To her consternation, however, the kitchen aside from her seems rather empty, present only to the sound of a maid or two prepping extra portions of stuffed mice on the off-chance they’re requested.

Cautious as always, Topolina all but tiptoes through, still careful not to draw attention to herself, and— once she’s certain she’s not being scrutinized— peeks out of the kitchen itself into the servers’ hallway. There’s music playing, muffled, down the hall in the great dining room— something elegant, bouncy. A waltz, perhaps. She wonders distantly who it is that might be dancing, and if the well-spoken cat she’d crossed paths with earlier is anything of a dancer himself. She could imagine him dancing… Oh, the flutter is back.

“Lina—”

“Yes!!”

She jumps impressively high, her hackles on edge and tail fluffed out in alarm. Yet, when she whips around to face her unexpected company, she’s met only with Yuki. Another of the kitchen servants, Yuki has existed as a consistently friendly, warm presence, to the degree that she’d willingly adopted Topolina’s attempts to shorten her, well, newly embarrassing name, something a few of the other servants (and Natori…) were still having trouble with. Her fright abated, Topolina tries to greet the smaller cat with a smile, but it wavers.

“Oh— Yuki, it’s you.” She’s carrying a large glass bottle, freshly-filled with some unfamiliar pink-tinged liquid, Topolina notices.

“I’m sorry,” Yuki starts in reply. “I didn’t mean to scare you.”

“I-It’s okay!”

“What were you looking at?”

Oh. That.

“I was looking for Cook,” Topolina admits reluctantly. “Or maybe Natori. I’ve finished the dishes they wanted me to clean earlier today.”

“I saw The Corner was all clean. It must have taken a while.” Yuki sounds impressed, perhaps. Topolina doesn’t mention it, of course, but deep down she’s a little tickled. “Natori’s already taken his place in the dining room, though, so I don’t think you’ll have any luck getting more directions from him.”

“Oh…” Thinking back now, she realizes she should have surmised that already. At least, if the banquet has progressed to the point that entertainment is warranted. “What about Cook? Have you seen her?”

“Sorry, I haven’t.”

After a short silence, it suddenly occurs to Topolina that Yuki seems… a little distracted. Troubled, even. Fidgeting, she gathers her resolve for the third time that day.

“...Are you okay? You look like… um, something’s on your mind.”

Just the mention of her evident disquiet is enough to erase its presence from her expression; Yuki almost instantly brightens some, shaking her head gently.

“No, no. I’m fine.” And then, before Topolina can press the issue, “How about this? Stay here— I have to go back in and serve refills. If I see Cook, I’ll ask her what else she wants you to do and then fill you in when I come back. Okay?”

Topolina is just about to enthusiastically agree (leisure time in the sparsely occupied kitchen? Not being the one to personally ask Cook for more work? Of course she’d be on board!), but a sudden eruption of screams and breaking glass from the direction of the banquet room means the two of them are turning their startled attention to the ruckus instead.

“Wh— what could it be..?” Topolina wonders aloud, shaken.

[ and that's it rip the ending i had in mind was that yuki tells topolina to find a safe place, topolina cowers probably in the kitchen the whole time, especially upon hearing an Explosion. and the next day there's all kinds of rumors and tall tales about baron and The Daring Rescue he pulled off. topolina connects the dots and. well basically becomes haru 2.0 crushing on him and indulging in fantasies where she's also swept off her feet by a dashing hero fjfjkda; ]

#the cat returns #do i #still tag it with the birthday bash tag....#tcr birthday bash #i guess #this was my first attempt at writing baron #also yuki

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local-anon · 5 years

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OC introduction

Will Barrett (rdr2)

Full Name: Will Barrett

Race: White

Class: Outlaw/ broke

Sexuality: Pan (but doesn't know it bc its the 1800s)

Age: 26

Physical Description

Gender: Male

Hair: Short, light brown

Height: 6’

Build: thicc but swole

Eyes: Hazel (depends on the day)

Scars: Scar round half his neck from nightfolk. Various gunshot grazes. once got stabbed in the hand during a drunken five finger fillet bet

Tattoos: Stick and poke sleeve on left arm.

Personality

Summary of their backstory.

An against the world attitude ever since he ran away from his parents' farm (too many kids they didn’t even notice) Worlds been throwing shit at him ever since. gains overconfidence because he somehow hasn't died yet

“My best skill is surviving because I haven’t died yet so clearly I’m immortal” Takes it upon himself to make everyone smile once in his presence even if they respond by hardcore insulting him.

Do they have any mental illnesses?

Ptsd definitely. prolly adhd bc he forgets shit like a mother fucker, will start 15 chores and not finish any of them.

“Shit probably but who cares about that when people are shooting at you lmao”

How do they cope?

He doesn’t. To the frustration of himself and the rest of camp

Do they have any medical conditions?

“I have this thing where my neck scar will suddenly start burning to the point of my legs collapsing but that’s probably nothing”

Is medicine/ treatment available for them?

Honestly it’s probably psychosomatic and in 1899 he isn't going to bother with it.

How much do they care about their outer appearance?

11/10 He will bathe twice a week and is always doing laundry. miss Grimshaw appreciates him the most because he washes clothes the best.

What’s their “beauty routine”?

Beard is in perfect condition, has added pomade and stimulant to make sure of it. Makes his own soap.

What do they fear the most?

Spiders, it's a hindrance when it comes to checking out caves and abandoned places.

Their biggest flaw?

“My existence?” His self-esteem, not knowing when to shut up.

Do they recognize it as a flaw?

He recognizes his entire being as a flaw so idk

What’s their zodiac sign or which one do you think they relate to the most?

Doesn't know his birthday exactly but I predict he’s a Libra Scorpio cusp with cancer rising and Leo moon. he has a Leo venus. Sagittarius Mars

What Harry Potter house would they be in?

“I’m a Gryffindor” he's a Hufflepuff

What natural alignment are they? (ex. Lawful Good, Chaotic Evil)

Neutral good. He really just wants to live good and let people live good.

Do they have any hobbies? What are they?

He loves gardening and is crushed every time the camp moves because he has to start all over again.

Do they have a favorite holiday? How do they celebrate it?

He once visited new york in the summer and saw fireworks on the 4th or july he was in love. It's his favorite holiday but he will light off fireworks whenever he gets his hands on them. “That's why I loved that mayors party”

What’s their favorite season?

Spring, seed sowing season lol

Do they have a temper or are they level headed?

He is mostly level headed unless you completely got him fucked up (insult his partner, his family, THREATEN his family?) he will shoot you after telling you all the ways you fucked up

Do they express their emotions freely or hide their true feelings?

Both?? He hides behind half truths most of the time. But very blunt if he doesnt like you.

Are they a leader or a follower?

He’s a good team player but not necessarily a follower. Will question you if you give weird not good orders (dutch almost dropped him twice)

How do they come off to others?

Blunt and overconfident, charming in his way that even if you’re mad you won't be for long.

What first impression do they usually make?

You either want to punch him or hug him.

Do they prefer to travel alone or with company?

He likes traveling with people he trusts, and he prefers it to being alone. He will banter with himself if left alone for too long. (Camp has gotten concerned for his mental status a few times)

Would you describe them as selfless or selfish?

He cares more about his family than he does about himself. But would steal candy from a kid bc he wants it.

What do they find most attractive in others?

He just really loves peoples personalities and if ur nice and treat him and his family well he will find you attractive (also he rlly likes muscles on people)

Do they flirt often?

Yes, aggressively, too much, in a dumb way

Do they fall in love easily?

“No” Yes

What’s their love life like?

“Amazing” Awful, at least it was until he joined the gang

Do they prefer to solve things diplomatically or using violence?

It really depends on the situation, he wants the least amount of innocent casualties. keyword innocent

What is their combat style?

“I have a shotgun for sticky situations, but my favorite are these metal knuckles i got from an old blacksmith friend, theyre bladed”

Do they sneak?

When the situation calls for it

What weapon(s) do they always carry with them?

Sawed off shotgun, Sighted rifles, bow & arrow (Charles made him one after a week of pestering)

Their most prized possession?

An old native American ring he was given after this old white drunk dude after sobbing about all the atrocities he's seen and passing out after handing him the ring saying he can't stand the weight anymore. Will dragged his passed out person into his tent and saved the ring as a reminder to try to help out everyone when he can

Favorite armor/ outfit?

Redshirt, black paisley vest, duster jacket over top.

How’s their aim?

“Its the fuckin best” It’s alright, not perfect all the time but still pretty good

Do their hands shake while aiming a bow?

It used to but Charles taught him how to keep steady

Their thoughts on killing to survive?

He does it because he has to but he’d really like it if people would just stop shooting at them

Does it take a toll on them?

Only when they were innocent and were just caught in the crossfire

Or do they shake it off rather easily?

“Fuck O’Driscolls

Thoughts on death if any? (ex. Fear it, accept it)

Is only afraid he’ll die in a stupid way

Do they scavenge for their supplies or simply buy them?

He’s good at looting houses and won't let things go to waste. Once stole an entire houses blankets because the girls were complaining about the chill drafting into their tents

Are they the type to get distracted and go off to an unknown nearby location or do they stay on track?

Ohhhh myyy goddddd. He was once riding from Valentine to Rhodes and stopped at every single herb he saw, even in the distance and was late bu a few hours than he meant to be back to camp.

How do they sleep?

“What is sleep?” He doesn’t, has to be dragged to bed or will pass out on his horse.

Are they picky about where and how or can they sleep basically anywhere?

Yes, he can’t sleep on the bare ground.

Are they a picky eater?

Not really just needs seasoning

Do they know how to cook?

Surprisingly yes, he taught Pearson how to use the sun to bake.

What’s their favorite beverage?

Rum, it gets him fucked up fast and tastes sweet.

Do they drink alcohol?

Yes

Anything they like to collect? (ex. Unique weapons)

He collects pressed flowers after Mary-Beth taught him how to do it. Arthur bought him a penny dreadful just for the purpose of pressing flowers because he got tired of Will sneaking off with his journal to do it.

Are they good at disarming traps or do they constantly miss them?

He nearly lost a leg to a bear trap.

#oc introduction #oc interview #thank u #oc: will #rdr2

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stevenuniversallyreviews · 7 years

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Episode 56: Love Letters

“Three’s a crowd.”

So, it turns out time passes in Beach City! Its residents aren’t in a Springfield Limbo where seasons change but ages stay the same, and this opens a whole new realm of possibilities to expand the ongoing narrative of Steven growing up by having him actually grow up. We really shouldn’t take this for granted, considering how easy it is for a cartoon to freeze characters (especially child characters) in time, and honestly my biggest initial takeaway from Love Letters is that it’s the first episode that deals with how the passage of time by itself, rather than a series of events like Steven’s adventures, affects the show and its characters. This is a show where Steven, Lars, and Sadie disappeared for a week and nobody seemed to notice, so yeah, it matters.

The reason time alone is a factor is because we focus on the all-but-forgotten Jamie the Mailman. After a cameo in Mirror Gem/Ocean Gem, Jamie disappears without a trace for thirty episodes. This isn’t remarkable for a side character, especially one whose only other appearance is the first scene of the third episode. Jamie may be sweet and funny in Cheeseburger Backpack, but on a show full of sweet and funny characters he was easily lost in the background.

Well, it turns out his absence for the latter half of Season 1 has an in-universe explanation, one that allows the show to hang a quick lampshade on the common trope of vanishing characters while reintroducing him to those of us that forgot he existed: Jamie was literally gone, looking for his big break in the bright lights and busy streets of the Sunflower State, the big KS itself, home of Dorothy Gale and the Rockin’ Chalkin’ Jayhawks, that’s right, Kansas.

I’m really glad he’s back! Jamie is similar to Ronaldo in his role as a background character and occasional lead whose cluelessness is played for laughs and occasional drama. Both are passionate about self-expression (Jamie through acting, Ronaldo through blogging and the occasional documentary) and show some skill at it, but think themselves masters. However, where Ronaldo fluctuates between funny and grating at the drop of a fedora, Jamie is a consistent force for entertainment; he never reaches the comedic highs of Ronaldo’s A-game, but we never suffer any lows.

The secret, I think, is that Jamie’s core kindness evokes empathy instead of annoyance when he goes off the rails. His silliness doesn’t hurt anyone, and in an episode where he could’ve turned bitter and nasty over romantic rejection, he handles it surprisingly well considering his maturity level in other regards. This reaction may be a thematic necessity to teach Steven and Connie and the audience a generic “honesty is good” lesson, but it sets the tone for Jamie’s fascinating ability to be self-important without being a jerk.

Jamie’s overacting always benefits from Eugene Cordero’s veteran comedy chops, but is amped up even further by Lamar Abrams and Hellen Jo’s delightful brand of hypersilliness (see: Steven and Garnet’s workout in Future Vision, Amethyst’s burial service in Watermelon Steven, all of Rising Tides, Crashing Skies). Jamie’s love letter is zany enough, but actually seeing him write it does wonders to enhance what could have been a simple letter-reading sequence. Even if Jamie didn’t literally write the letter this way, it’s a nice peek into his ridiculous self-image, complete with anime twinkles.

Steven and Connie are classic theatrical meddlers in a classic farce, where love letters gone awry and easily avoidable misunderstandings create melodramatic tension. It’s a nifty twist that they aren’t playing matchmakers despite their resemblance to middlemen like Don Pedro or Dolly Levi, but just want to spare Jamie’s feelings. And I love that Steven, a hero with a weakness for schmaltz, rejects the idea of Jamie and Garnet as a couple even before Garnet does, solidifying that neither the show nor our well-meaning but misguided kids are going in that direction.

(Love Letters also don’t drag out secret of who wrote “Garnet’s” response letter, which further subverts typical farce tropes but probably has more to do with the eleven minute runtime.)

As Jamie says, Steven and Connie are super cute. It’s nice to have them as supporting characters (albeit the characters with the most screen time); we get snippets of them just hanging out in most of their episodes, but this time it doesn’t contrast with more serious drama like Connie’s replacement by a doppelganger or the possible end of their friendship. This is the first full episode of the two kids just being kids since Winter Forecast (oh look, another Jo/Abrams episode), and it’s soon to be followed by Connie’s temporary indoctrination; heavy episodes like Full Disclosure and Sworn to the Sword may be great, but a respite is appreciated.

Fortunately, a calmer (if wackier) tone doesn’t mean Love Letters lacks good character moments. Connie gets a quiet display of her growing emotional intelligence in the back-to-back scenes of Jamie’s admission of multiple rejections and the rewrite of Garnet’s letter. In the first scene, after hearing all about Jamie’s emotionally vulnerable state, she sees no issue with handing him another rejection and has to be stopped by Steven; whether or not ripping off the bandage is the right course of action, Connie’s reaction shows a distinct lack of tact. But in the second scene, she’s the head writer of the revamped letter (using the power of torrid soap opera know-how); even if she and Steven are way off-track in terms of how romance works here, she understands the problem and wants to help.

Little slip-ups and corrections like these do a great job of showing how far Connie has come from Bubble Buddies without losing the realistic awkwardness that makes her so endearing. Her disadvantage to Steven on the emotional intelligence front also continues to even out their relationship, as she schools him in book smarts throughout the series and will soon become a far more capable tactical fighter to his natural talent, a la Katara and Aang. Just because Steven isn’t an idiot and Connie isn’t emotionless doesn’t mean their differences have to go away, and Love Letters is a great example of her lower-key foil duty in action.

Garnet is mostly great as the oblivious, then apathetic subject of Jamie’s affection. Her sexualized emergence from the sea is played for laughs thanks to over-the-top visual effects and Estelle’s exaggerated sultriness. Visually, while her introduction may evoke classic Birth of Venus imagery, the more amusing sight gag can be found in the, erm, interesting positioning of Jamie’s mailsack malebag mailbag as he’s filled with sudden lust:

But back to Garnet. Her instant and insistent dismissal of Jamie may be cold, but it’s fair and faithful to her character: Garnet is locked down on the relationship front, and we’ve seen how little she cares about the feelings of human strangers from her interactions with Kofi (and her general demeanor). She benefits from having little to do with Steven and Connie’s scheming, which makes her another victim of poor communication who gets fed up with what she perceives to be a pushy admirer instead of doubling down on her bluntness to a point that might make her seem mean; it also reinforces how important is to take the feelings of both people involved in a crush into account.

Even so, my biggest/only issue with Love Letters is her final conversation with Jamie, where she dismisses his infatuation as a performance. I guess I get that she’s trying to let him down easier than before and is putting things in a way he understands, but there’s a much better way to differentiate between love and a crush than essentially saying his crush is delusional. As someone who’s had crushes and has been in love, sure, the latter is strong enough to make the former look tame in retrospect. But that doesn’t make infatuation an act, and for a show that’s all about feelings, Steven Universe could do way better at explaining Garnet’s point of view without being condescending about someone’s emotions (especially the emotions of a young audience).

That said, Jamie’s response is somewhat true: local theater, at least, is really solid advice.

Future Vision!

Beyond local theater being in the future, Love Letters gets a nice resolution in Jamie insisting that he’s moved on in I Am My Mom. And then we get to see that, uh, nope, he’s still holding the torch as of Reunited.

Our introduction to Barb is a long time coming, and the fact that she knows Greg telegraphs their low-key and largely off-screen friendship.

If every pork chop were perfect, we wouldn’t have inconsistencies…

Despite Garnet proclaiming that love at first sight doesn’t exist, The Answer more or less shows Ruby and Sapphire’s relationship to be just that. Maybe they spent more time on the surface getting to know each other than it seems, but as per its fairy tale nature, love springs up pretty much immediately. (And it’s great! But maybe don’t have that person be against the notion of instant love.)

We’re the one, we’re the ONE! TWO! THREE! FOUR!

I enjoy the goofiness here and the dedication to a farcical format for a theatrical character, and as I said, the acknowledgment that time is an actual factor for this show earns some points. But beyond not sticking the landing, and it’s honestly just a little too broad to be a favorite.

Top Fifteen

Steven and the Stevens

Mirror Gem

Lion 3: Straight to Video

Alone Together

The Return

Jailbreak

Rose’s Scabbard

Coach Steven

Giant Woman

Winter Forecast

On the Run

Warp Tour

Maximum Capacity

The Test

Ocean Gem

Love ‘em

Laser Light Cannon

Bubble Buddies

Tiger Millionaire

Lion 2: The Movie

Rose’s Room

An Indirect Kiss

Space Race

Garnet’s Universe

Future Vision

Marble Madness

Political Power

Full Disclosure

Joy Ride

Like ‘em

Gem Glow

Frybo

Arcade Mania

So Many Birthdays

Lars and the Cool Kids

Onion Trade

Steven the Sword Fighter

Beach Party

Monster Buddies

Keep Beach City Weird

Watermelon Steven

The Message

Open Book

Story for Steven

Shirt Club

Love Letters

Enh

Cheeseburger Backpack

Together Breakfast

Cat Fingers

Serious Steven

Steven’s Lion

Joking Victim

Secret Team

Say Uncle

No Thanks!

4. Horror Club 3. Fusion Cuisine 2. House Guest 1. Island Adventure

#love letters #steven universe #su #steven universally #review

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