#who am i kidding the show was a masterpiece and ahead of its time

[curioscurio]

I'm rewatching Steven Universe and I will never forgive Fandom for what it did to her

#also watching it at age 19-20 as it was released and experiencing the resulting clusterfuck online fandom response was a wild trip #im finally rewatching it again at 25 and really really feel lucky to have seen it at the age i did #i have completely different perspective on it now that i have 3 young nephews and a neice where before i was in college #the music is still as incredible as it was back then #and the animation #i cant beleive people got honestly and truly upset and violently aggressive about characters being off model sometimes #early stevens voice though kills me after awhile...... the yelling .... but his characters growth and development also being reflected in #his voice changing as he grows up #they also go crazy hard on some scenes #who am i kidding the show was a masterpiece and ahead of its time

[lazanskywrites]

Glee Was Ahead of It's Time.

You either love or hate Glee there is absolutely zero in-between. It's like the "cilantro soap-tasting gene", you decide whether you like it or not in one try. In my opinion, Glee is a masterpiece and I am prepared to die on this hill. Here are my top five reasons why Glee is one of my favorite shows.

My controversial take though, Glee was only good until halfway through season five. With that being said, the first reason why Glee is my favorite show is because the original cast is iconic. The original Glee Club members slowly fizzle out of the show, having random cameos here and there. This is why, to me, the last seasons are hard to watch. No amount of new characters will top the original characters, they were funnier and had better acting.

The fourth reason Glee is my favorite show is because the comedy was ahead of its time. Countless skits in the show are similar to those in today's comedic world on TikTok or YouTube. But Glee is slowly losing popularity as other shows and movies are produced. The writing and comedic timing of these attached clips are another reason why I and plenty of others still watch Glee.

The third reason I love Glee is for their celebrity cameos. John Stamos, Neil Patrick Harris, Britney Spears, Ricky Martin, Olivia Newton-John, and Jennifer Coolidge, the list goes on and on. Every celebrity has an important role in the episode or the season they're featured in. For example, John Stamos' character was dating a teacher involved in the Glee Club. Ricky Martin was a Spanish teacher who taught the Glee Club about Latin music. And Olivia Newton-John was alongside Jane Lynch's character in a music video.

The amount of A-list celebrities the directors were able to feature in only six seasons is outstanding. It shows how popular this show became as more episodes were filmed.

Fourthly, Glee would be nothing without the music (literally). Were all the covers good? Absolutely not. But the good covers were good covers. Every character has a handful of songs that were praised in the Glee fandom, but Rachel, Mercedes, and Blaine had hit after hit. As much as I dislike both Rachel Berry and Lea Michelle, she can sing. Rachel's standout song for me was "Don't Rain On My Parade", it perfectly highlights her vocal talent and the attitude her character brings to the show.

Mercedes has just as powerful of a voice as Rachel and Mercedes does not hold back. Her character was hilarious and full of talent, but she often got overshadowed by her peers. There are songs her peers had performed I think she would've performed ten times better. This isn't a solo, but it's my favorite song of hers. The context of the song is hilarious and the music video is pure 2010s vibes.

Finally, Blaine Anderson. On TikTok, there is a joke being spread that any song Blaine has covered in Glee is better than the original. They call it the "Blaine Anderson effect". Similar to the "Kelly Clarkson effect" which is when Kelly Clarkson covers a song and outdoes the original artist. I listen to Blaine's covers like they're originals. I could go on and on about how many good covers he has in Glee. Today, Darren Criss still performs outstanding covers. My favorite Blaine cover has to be "Bills, Bills, Bills".

The fifth and final reason why I love Glee is none other than Jane Lynch. Without fail, she'll always be the funniest character in every episode. What I appreciate about her character is the soft side she tries to cover up with crass jokes towards students and colleagues. Realizing why she is protective and patient with Becky it makes you see her from a different perspective. I love Sue Sylvester so much that I dressed up as her for Halloween.

It takes a certain person to truly enjoy Glee so it's not surprising that I'm one of the only people out of all my friends who enjoy watching an episode or two every night.

You thought I was kidding about the Halloween costume?

#glee #blog #suesylvester #blaine anderson #mercedesjones #rachel berry #naya rivera #glee club #matthew morrison #music

[seri-41]

For the love of god, stop saying Endeavor was a good father (A long-ass RANT)

With the recent episode of MHA season 6 coming out, I started to see a lot of fans talking about how good of a father Endeavor was before Touya started burning himself. Let me start by saying I am a huge Endeavor simp and fan myself, but even I have the decency to acknowledge what a horrible shit he is. This is a rant about why Enji Todoroki has never been a good father. Spoilers ahead obviously.

Endeavor and his family

Endeavor started a family because he couldn’t beat All Might. He started a family and had children for his own gain. Starting with Rei, the wife he bought off who was like 19 at the time only because of her quirk. He never had any intention of treating her as anything but a baby-making machine and a nanny for his kids. The only reason he married her was to have children. After he got what he wanted (Shoto), he sent her away because he damaged her beyond repair and he didn’t need her anymore. 

Endeavor loved Touya because he had potential. Touya loved the training so that wasn’t a problem, but when his first son turned out to be defective, he quickly tossed him and forgot him. 

My point is this, Endeavor only ‘loves’ someone when they prove to be useful to him. There are a million ways he could have handled Touya. Training him how to use his quirk without hurting himself or quirk therapy or even heat-resistant skin grafting. He’s a top hero who had all the experience and money in the world, I promise he would have been able to call up the best doctor in the country, which is what he would have done if he really did love Touya. 

Fuyumi and Natsuo are literally by-products. I bet the only reason he ever noticed Fuyumi was because she was a replacement for Rei as the ‘mother figure’. He treated Natsuo the worst, not even acknowledging his existence, which is why Natsuo was the one who was impacted the most (other than Touya).

Shoto is one who he really loved, not in a healthy way, but because he was the masterpiece. Even after Touya died, Enji never learned his lesson and kept up with the abuse. I couldn’t imagine what would have happened if Shoto wasn’t born the way he is. Would Enji just keep forcing Rei to have MORE babies? 

Was he really an abuser?

Some fans say ‘oh he wasn’t that bad’ or ‘he never really physically hurt them’ because we never explicitly see it. For the kids it was mostly emotional and verbal abuse, I doubt he physically hurt Shoto other than the training. Enji would beat him until he was vomiting for the sake of training, but with Rei he damaged her the most. She married him for the sake of her family and tried to love him. She tried to be a partner to him, and he still pushed her away. He treated her horribly and was a monster. He never physically hurt Natsuo or Fuyumi but he beat Rei up like it was a routine. He slaps her around when she tries to voice her opinion or talk to him, and he downright blames her for everything, including Touya training in secret. 

This panel is downright horrifying because it shows what a monster he was and how Rei saw him. This strong pro hero is pulling her and throwing her around like a sac of potatoes in front of the children. He is violently beating his wife. So for fans saying there is no proof of him doing this regularly, here is the page to prove it. I don’t think Horikoshi can show graphic abuse, so he tried to make it as subtle as possible, just showing hints. Not many people have seen these extra pages (from chapter 301-302) because it was only quite recently added to the chapter. The anime studio literally censors blood, so I honestly doubt this will be animated. Also in the manga, there is a panel where it is insinuated he slapped Rei. You can see the giant SLAP in bold letters.

If this is a man who is supposed to be a top pro hero then these children and Rei have no one to run to.

Power dynamics and victim blaming

Its very interesting to see how much the Todoroki children blame themselves for how Touya ended up. This image is from chapter 302.

Even if they went to the police, nothing could have stopped Endeavor. Given how corrupt the hero system is, the abuse would have worsened if someone ratted him out. There is no way Rei, Fuyumi or Natsuo could have stopped this. They are victims as well. Endeavor was the #2 hero, they would have easily swept it under the rug and called them crazy or ungrateful. Enji with his connections and status could have sent them away. What hero could they have gone to that would have believed them? Who’s to say they would even help?

Misogynistic?

Endeavor had this tendency to treat women who are not heroes in an odd way. He saw them as weak and preferred boys as successors. If you look at his behavior with women outside of the hero profession, it's super awkward and he in general doesn’t know how to treat or interact with them. This is mostly based on speculation, but I feel like this is where Touya got his misogynistic way of thinking. He had to pick it up from somebody and I doubt it was Natsuo or Shoto. 

Facing the consequences

Endeavor wanting to atone and not asking for forgiveness is a major sign of growth. I’m glad he acknowledges his wrongdoings and is now trying to bond with his family, but that doesn’t erase the past. Enji had abused and tortured his family for years. You don’t come back from that.

I don’t like how Enji thinks he can do a few favors for them and call it atonement. He doesn’t face real consequences because in the end, he’s the #1 hero, he’s rich, and he still has his masterpiece. He is thriving and doing great careerwise. The punishment does not fit the crime. Enji being forced to atone is a super lenient consequence. 

This is actually pretty scary. Endeavor is the hero with the most cases solved, you CANNOT tell me he didn’t run into a few domestic abuse cases in his 25+ years as a hero. He is locking up abusers while being an abuser himself. Talk about double standers- 

Glad he got exposed (#Endeavoriscanceled)

If it weren’t for Dabi/Touya revealing what Enji did publicly, I don’t think he would have ever faced real consequences. The world needs to know this man is no hero behind the scenes. In any country, abusers whether male or female get jail time, probation or fines. For long-term abusers, I’m pretty sure jail time and a criminal record is on the table. Also, aren’t quirk marriages illegal in some places? Or at least have laws and regulations? 

After the final war arc there might be a chance he will retire, but this retirement won’t be easy. Endeavor will be disgraced and knocked off his pedestal, which is exactly what he deserves. It's devastating as an Endeavor fan but honestly this man needs to learn his lesson the right way. Thank you for reading my rant.

#mha #bnha #enji todoroki #endeavor #bnha endeavor #mha endeavor #rei todoroki #shoto todoroki #fuyumi todoroki #natsuo todoroki #mha touya #small annoyed rant #I love Endeavor but I can’t excuse his behaviour #consequences #jail time #if u have any other opinions let me know #the bitter truth #Endeavoriscanceled #I’m not anti-endeavor I’m just showing y’all he’s no a saint

[cringy-username-dream-wanderlust]

Top 10 movies

I was tagged by @whereforartthoumisthios. The first time I ever got tagged, thank you 🥰

Avatar The Last Airbender

THE TV SHOW, DEFINITELY NOT ANYTHING ELSE… (there is no movie in Ba Sing Se)

Not a movie, but still the best series of all time. It deserves to be mentioned and it deserves to be number one. Nothing compares. Labelled a kids show but it is so much more than that. The Asian culture, the redemption arcs, the characters, the plot, Zuko. I genuinely feel bad for anyone who never had the pleasure of seeing this.. and I don’t mean that in a degrading way. Many adults have recently watched this for the first time and love it. It’s a masterpiece. It changed my life and I will love this show forever.

Les Intouchables

The last movie I ever watched with my grandma before she passed away. It’s such a beautiful story of the meaningful friendship between two men, one who’s just trying to survive and scrape by and one who is fully paralyzed and is looking for a caretaker. Probably the most inspirational movie I have ever seen. It’s a French movie but with subtitles it is very enjoyable and I HIGHLY recommend.

Encanto

Perfect. I love this movie so much. It’s my comfort movie. Probably because I too was raised in a tight, close family with my grandma being the matriarch. I love Mirabel and as an autistic person I really relate to her and her struggles of not belonging and being left out constantly. (I’m doing much better nowadays, don’t worry haha) I also love the Colombian culture and the story. The songs are bops too. It’s so refreshing to see a Disney movie that doesn’t entirely revolve around the female main character being obsessed with a handsome man. This story is about family and it’s beautiful.

Avatar

NOT RELATED TO ATLA (no movie… Ba Sing Se…)

A classic. I can’t find the words to describe it. It’s just a beautiful, inspiring masterpiece. It’s insane how ahead this movie was of its time. Humans truly are the bad guys for a lot of living beings. If you haven’t seen it you really need to. The spirituality, the love story, the alien culture, the LANDSCAPES OMG.

Frozen 2

Better than the first one imo. And that’s saying a lot because I love the first movie. I just love the story and the sisterly bond between Anna and Elsa. I love Olaf, I love Kristoff, I love Sven. Reindeers are truly better than people.

A Cure For Wellness

My favorite horror movie. It’s such a mindfuck. It’s creepy, disturbing and it keeps you thinking from start to finish. Such a unique concept too, a horror movie in a wellness resort. It kinda makes my want to go there too if I didn’t know what happens. I highly recommend if you’re into psychological horrors/thrillers. There are no jumpscares.

Get Out

A horror movie again, but without jumpscares (maybe some tiny ones but they aren’t too bad). Without giving too much of the plot away, the stuff happening behind closed doors…It’s so messed up and it’s so sad that this is loosely based off of current racism POC are still facing. I do think the story sends a very good message though and I am glad it was made by Jordan Peele who is POC himself. The main character Chris is a very funny and intelligent person and it’s so satisfying to see a main character in a horror movie make all the right choices though.

folklore: the long pond studio sessions

I love Taylor Swift and her album folklore.

Miss Americana

I love Taylor Swift.

Barbie as The Princess and the Pauper

Sort of an honorable mention because I actually haven’t seen this movie in over a decade, but I still love Barbie movies and especially this one! It's my favorite! I used to pretend I was Erica lol. The music and the story are so good! I’ve been trying to find a dvd of it in thrift shops but so far no luck.

Thanks again for the tag girl!❤️

#tagged

[letterboxd]

In Focus: The Truman Show.

Inspired by Letterboxd data that revealed it to be a lockdown favorite, editor-at-large Dominic Corry looks at the ever-evolving importance of contemporary masterpiece The Truman Show.

It has long been apparent that The Truman Show is an unnervingly prescient film. The story of a man who becomes aware that his superficially idyllic life is, in fact, a live-streamed television show has gone from being high-concept to every-day.

Thanks to the three Ps—the prevalence of mass urban surveillance, the proliferation of reality television and the pervasiveness of video in social media—the notion of cameras filming our every move is no longer a paranoid fantasy, but real life. The twist being that, for the most part, we all willingly signed up for it, and did all the filming ourselves. As Yi Jian saliently observes in his review: “Not to get all ‘we live in a society’ on Letterboxd but I know a person or two in real life that would actually give anything to trade lives with Truman, it do be like that sometimes”. It indeed do, Yi Jian.

So it’s something of a cliché at this stage to point out how we are all living in some version of the The Truman Show, and you don’t have to be a member of the royal family to feel that way. Yet, somehow, the film has become even more pertinent over the last eighteen months. And it’s a pertinence reflected in the massive uptick in viewership for the film as seen in Letterboxd activity.

During the month of February 2020, the last moment of the Before Times, The Truman Show had a modest 1,235 diary entries. That number tripled in April of that year, by which time the seriousness of the pandemic had become clear. And by July, deep in the worst of the pandemic, Truman fervor peaked, with a further 178 percent leap over April’s numbers, firmly placing it in the top 200 films watched by our members in a year of lockdown. (By the way, ‘diary entries’ mean activity where the member has added a watched date; many thousands more also marked Truman as ‘watched’ in those dark months, but didn’t specify a date.)

It’s not difficult to imagine why we might become more interested in revisiting this eminently re-visitable film. During lockdown, social media—including Letterboxd—took on a greater presence in terms of how we communicated with each other. We got used to seeing footage of faces more than actual faces. We were all the stars of our own ‘Truman Show’, and simultaneously the audience of everyone else’s ‘Truman Show’.

Christian Torres boiled it down effectively when he wrote: “Now every movie I see seems to be related to my life in quarantine. I am Truman and I want to escape.” And Sonya Sandra eloquently captured the film’s increased contemporary significance in her review: “This is a real-life daylight horror film. The best kind. Even more relevant in 2021 than ever. We are all Truman, we all want to find what is real in our fake lives filled with media, capitalism and ideology. And it’s our job to fight the storm and get to the truth of it all. Nothing is real, everything is for profit, and everyone is selfish. Go out and find what is real, because it’s definitely not here.”

With its deft, dazzling blending of the profound and the humorous, the optimistic and the cynical, it’s difficult to think of anything released since The Truman Show that comes as close as it does to being a modern-day Frank Capra movie. It’s hopeful, but has its eyes wide open. There’s a darkness in the themes of the film that is never replicated in the colors on display.

While everyone involved delivers career-best work, we must principally credit the triumvirate of talent at the center of the film: director Peter Weir, screenwriter Andrew Niccol and star Jim Carrey.

Star Jim Carrey and director Peter Weir on the set of ‘The Truman Show’ (1998).

Weir is a director who inspires much online love whenever his name is mentioned, but he isn’t really mentioned all that often. Or at least as often as he should be. The Australian filmmaker has delivered masterpieces across multiple genres, and it’s extremely sad that he hasn’t directed a movie since 2010’s not-quite-true World War II drama The Way Back, arguably one of his lesser works. That’s also, insanely, one of only two movies he’s made since Truman, the other being Master and Commander: The Far Side of the World, the wide and rabid affection for which regularly kicks up on Twitter (not to mention demand for a sequel).

Weir doesn’t do many interviews, and while this 2018 Vanity Fair article marking Truman’s twentieth anniversary has many quotes about the film’s modern relevance, Weir doesn’t offer any commentary to that effect, presumably preferring to let the work speak for itself—though in this 1998 interview he did talk about the relationship between the media, the general public and the people we become fascinated with, as a “complex situation”.

The Vanity Fair article does, however, reveal a fascinating ‘what if’ scenario relating to Christof, the god-like director of the in-movie TV show played by Ed Harris, who offers up a pile of pretentious auteur clichés: mononymous, beret, etc. (beyond the whole god thing, that is). When Dennis Hopper, originally cast in the role, wasn’t working out, Weir considered playing the role himself, which would’ve added yet another meta layer. It brings to mind how George Miller styled Immortan Joe (played by Hugh Keays-Byrne) after himself in Mad Max: Fury Road, or how Christopher Nolan’s haircut shows up in most of his films.

Ed Harris as Christof in ‘The Truman Show’ (1998).

And, at one point, it could have gone mega-meta. Weir, in the 1998 interview, talked about a “crazy idea” he had, a technical impossibility back then but easily achievable with live-streaming now. “I would have loved to have had a video camera installed in every theater the film was to be seen [in]. At one point, the projectionist would … cut to the viewers in the cinema and then back to the movie. But I thought it was best to leave that idea untested.” Imagine.

Weir also played a role in helping to shape the originally much more overtly dark screenplay into the cheerier (on the surface at least) shooting script, which is solely credited to fellow antipodean, New Zealand-born Niccol, also a producer on the film. Both men have done the majority of their work in America, but it’s tempting to credit the film’s tone-perfect sense of heightened Americana to the degree of separation offered by their foreign provenance. In any case, it’s clear that open-air mall designers were paying attention.

Niccol’s original screenplay made his name in Hollywood, and revealed a storyteller excited by big ideas. He moved into directing with the smaller-scale Gattaca, released a year prior to Truman (itself delayed to meet Carrey’s availability). Niccol’s subsequent filmography includes several legit bangers (Lord of War hive step up!), and his endearing dedication to lofty allegories in a genre setting makes him an increasingly rare breed in Hollywood.

Like Weir, he is not the greatest fan of giving interviews, but the Vanity Fair piece quotes him making an interesting point: “When you know there is a camera, there is no reality,” thereby making Truman “the only genuine reality star.”

It’s a sentiment echoed by MusicMoviesMe, who writes that “‘Truman Show’ beats all other reality shows out there like Bachelors, Survivors and Kardashians. Come on, when you know there’s a camera at your tail, there’s no reality. So yes, Truman beats all reality shows out there bar none!”

The role was perfectly suited to Jim Carrey’s affected mannerisms, and his status as one of the world’s biggest stars meant he could relate to Truman more than most people. Then, at least. Nowadays, of course, we are all Truman.

“It is always incredible to see how far The Truman Show was ahead of [its] time,” observes The Closer79. “In a world where celebs are monitored 24/7 and we are showered with unnecessary private information on the web, where talent-free wannabes become famous and where you sometimes [wonder] what kind of surreal show society you are in—Truman and his fake show life cleverly have anticipated all of this. Only Truman knew nothing of his luck and he was granted an escape from his glass prison. We don’t really have this possibility… Aren’t we all Truman? Sometimes even voluntarily…”

Austin Burke concurs: “I have always known that I really enjoyed this film, but I had no clue that it would hold up so well years later… Could this be because the strange world that he finds himself in is far more similar to our world today? Possibly, but the idea and themes are so much more relevant now compared to when this originally released.” And while DallasFrance is conscious of piling on about the film’s prescience, his review highlights how there really is no limit to the film’s meta qualities:

“Instead of writing a review about how this film predicted social media, or how we’re all Truman, or yadda yadda yadda, I’ll instead fixate on the miraculous fact that two absolute legends were cast as primary viewers of the Truman Show:

1. The old lady from The Running Man who starts betting on Ben Richards (Arnold Schwarzenegger). ‘He’s one bad motherf*cker!’

2. The villain from The Karate Kid Part II:

‘Live or die, man?!’ ‘Die!’ ‘Wrong!’ *hooooonnnkkk*

I’ve never seen either of these actors in any other roles. With the second one, I felt like I was watching a character from my childhood watch a character from his childhood come to realizations about the characters in his childhood. So actually… the movie’s really about me.”

Never change, LB membership.

We are all generally pretty aware of how ahead of its time The Truman Show was, but that doesn’t lessen its impact. Maddie’s review shows that there’s always some new angle to consider: “Imagine being an extra in this movie… You would be an extra, playing an actor, playing an extra. Think about that long enough and tell me that doesn’t make you want to walk into the ocean.”

Kev goes even further: “Watching other people watch somebody else while also watching that person while also watching the person watching over that person is a great reminder that watching is weird, and to be watched is to not own yourself. Don’t watch, don’t try to be watched. Just live.”

Or perhaps Will encapsulates the film’s ability to present an ever-evolving message best, writing that, “clearly, this is video proof that we live in a simulation.” Beyond mere prescience, The Truman Show is a telling mirror to whatever era it is viewed in. Its message will continue to evolve.

Now that we’re finally (touch wood) emerging from the pandemic, it will be fascinating to see what The Truman Show has to say about its audience and the world they live in, in years to come. Rest assured, it will be well-documented by you, the Letterboxd audience.

Also: can Peter Weir please make another movie? Like, seriously.

Related content

A Meta-Reality: Robert’s list of layers of film in life and life in film

Follow Dom on Letterboxd

#the truman show #truman #peter weir #jim carrey #andrew niccol #letterboxd #lockdown #quarantine #coronavirus #pandemic #movies #comfort films #comedy #truman show

[mego42]

Shamelessly stealing @foxmagpie​’s monthly rec thing without the ability to get my life together to do these on a monthly basis so, seasonal recs! So excited to see if I manage to do this again with anything remotely resembling consistency but i’ve been keeping the notes for approximately 43 years (or since ~september, whatever that means) so by god i’m gonna use them. 

found my thrill - s_t_c_s / @sothischickshe​

Turner POV!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!

guys turner is SO OBSESSED with Beth and Rio

both canonically and in this fic

it’s gr9

also features a weirdly soothing and relatable cord untangling moment as a metaphor

truly disturbingly relatable turner pov tbh

relentless boomer disdain, always a plus

led to the creation of this monstrosity, not sure what kind of a monster would do that

War In My Mind - mintletters16

Backread!!!!

post-213, gorgeous character study 

guaranteed to make you feEl stUfF

I really love the like, cyclical, fractured pattern of Beth’s internal monologue, it gives the whole thing a really affecting at times dreamy, at times haunted vibe

the end twist is *chef’s kiss*

mourning bells - Ejunkiet / @ejunkiet​

Backread!!!!

Later s2 era, Rio’s at a funeral, gets drunk and calls Beth

V short, kind of…..mmm, not sweet, but almost? Idk

It’s got a wistful sort of almost/i can be quiet with you vibe that i go extremely bonkers for

delinquents - foxmagpie / @foxmagpie​

Lol are any of you actually not reading this yet?

g o d ch 8 where do i start

First off how ABSOLUTELY VERY DARE for the tragic angst that is delinquents!beth boland. This poor baby, this precious bean. MUST PROTEC

SHE’S TRYING HER BEST AND I LOVE HER

zero percent deserves dean’s clammy hands, no i have not forgotten, tattooed on my brain, will never forgive

I also love love love love LOVE the ruby/stan subplot happening

(and ruby’s mom!!!!!) (seriously though you write the best moms)

oh god and baby beth starting to have confusing feelings about rio?????? *chef’s kiss*

p sure i was just like, straight screaming the entire end of the chapter

the dugout is like, pure serotonin

I can’t even talk about the closet

tHe teNsiOn

thank you i will take eleventy billion

don't give it a hand, offer it a soul - medievalraven / @medievalraven

am a desperate heaux for any fic that features rio and mick friendship

you are all incredibly shocked i know

still would not be mad if this swerved into rio x mick fake dating but beth x rio is cool too i guess

Speaking of things i am a desperate heaux for: DIANE!!!!!!!!

and DATING ANNIE???????????? Blessed

honestly this fic is worth it purely for the assertion that mick watches queer eye

Why don't we go to Venus? - watermelonriddles / @bensonstablers​

another grief study! 

apparently i was working through some stuff in september, idk, that was like 4 years ago

considering it’s the premise of the fic, i don’t think it’s a spoiler to say this fic is canon divergent and working with the premise that rio killed beth in 302

he is uh, not coping well

extremely haunted you might say

lots of marcus and rhea which is a delight!

rhea is to good for him tbh

i said what i said

truly top notch dream (nightmare?) sequences

the conversation at the end is extremely uncalled for

drop the game - Ejunkiet / @ejunkiet​

Backread!!!!

Am going to die mad Beth and Rio didn’t hook up in 211 but luckily this fic scratched the itch 

(temporarily, it’s a fairly permanent itch)

Bonus rec: missing scene series i wanna do bad things to you featuring 2x02 and 2x04

Viva Voce - zetuslapetus / @querenaxx​

Whoops we woke up married Vegas shenanigans!! 

So cute!!!!! So sexy!!!!! 

What more do you want?

am desperately obsessed with how beth can’t help stalking rio

feels right, feels organic

this makes me feel a lot of stuff about how they could be without their canon garbage between them

🎶 we could’ve had it aaaaaaaaaaall 🎶

you showed me colors (i can't see them with anyone else) - gild_fire / @gild-and-fire​

really into the use of color to illustrate beth’s emotional state, i feel like there’s a word for that but idk what it is

UNIMPORTANT

really nice job capturing beth’s inner vulnerability balanced by her outer stubbornness

am DESPERATELY into Mick playing matchmaker

more please???????

Both Sides of the Law - JoeyLee / @joeyjoeylee​

LAW SCHOOL AU! I suuuuuuper love Beth and Rio here (alt pov!! a gift!!!!) I love how initially prickly they are, I love how it’s evolving into a grudging respect, I love how INCREDIBLY AND HILARIOUSLY OBSESSED WITH EACH OTHER THEY ARE and neither one of them seems to see it

listen I know we’re all already foaming at the mouth over this one but as it’s gonna go down as one of my all time favorites it bears repeating/rereccing

cannot stress enough how masterful the use of POV is here, both voices feel completely true and distinct and I love how the alternating chapters revisit, reveal and emphasize pieces of each other

i can’t talk about this fic without hyperventilating

I LOVE IT SO MUCH YOU GUYS

the slow burn is going to ACTUALLY KILL ME

rip, no regrats

Earned It - wakeupflawless / @wakeupflawless​

spanking

that’s it that’s the pitch

H O T

living for beth’s exit in the first chapter, rio and i are both incredibly into it

second chapter also features violently possessive Rio who cannot deal with anyone messing with his girl so if that’s your thing boy howdy get on it

shake, baby, shake - openhearts

backread!!!!!

according to my bookmarks this was a reread but ???????

must’ve read it in the fugue state that followed reading for a moment we were strangers which is gr9 and I believe I have recced it before. If not, horrible oversight, reccing it now

beth and Rio POV lead up to the bathroom break, beautifully done, low-key feel bad reccing it bc the end point of both chapters makes me want to throw things but it’s super worth it for the tEnsiOn. ENJOY

What the Sea Wants, the Sea Will Have - flashindie / @pynkhues​

I’m assuming all of y’all are already reading this

If not OH MY GOD FIX YOUR LIVES

P I R A T E  A U

I’m sorry maybe you didn’t hear me piRaTE aU

meticulously researched, brain-meltingly vibrant, already painfully sexy slow-burning PIRATE AU

god where to start okay so first off, the world-building here straight up breaks my brain, sophie’s put in the work and it SHOWS

second, the atmosphere. i’m generally a pretty like, vague mental picture sort of reader but the sensory detail here grabs you by the throat and like, forcibly hauls you in whether your brain’s wired that way or no

and hey speaking of throats if you, like me, go a little funny about the knees at the idea of beth holding a knife to rio’s throat (he’s fine, calm down), there’s a v excellent beth-in-a-barrel moment for you

oh christ and the sexy tension

it’s gonna be a race to see which slow burn takes me out first, this or law school

Stunner - foxmagpie / @foxmagpie​

Another high school AU, this time with baby Rio absolutely head over heels for his older sister’s bff

stunner!Rio has an emotional earnestness about him that I feel like delinquents!Rio has already outgrown and it’s so SWEET I can’t get enough

Desperately cute!!!!!!

alL he waNts iS foR beTh tO bE hiS girL

also unreasonably angsty???????

ANN ARBOR IS NOT THAT FAR MEGAN

A Heart's A Heavy Burden - tooshyforthis / @bathroombreaks​

Howl’s Moving Castle AU!!!!!!!!!!!!!!

I love Howl’s!!!!!!!!!!!

perfect opp to roast Rio for being a Dramatique Heaux 

and it’s gonna be 9 chapters?????? H Y P E

author’s note boldly presumes I did not know I needed this AU when the reality is I did in fact know I needed this AU, I just wasn’t expecting anyone to deliver

so blessed

author also claims to not be team nose stud and yet it features prominently in all its magnificent glory

what is the truth dot gif

A Bit of a Stretch - septiembre / @septiembur​

SO????? CUTE?????????

would be on this list for Rio calling Beth E alone tbh

really really really really really love this Rio POV of being settled into a relationship with Beth

It manages to be sweetly domestic af while still holding the edge that makes brio brio which is a neat trick

@septiembur may be a witch

beth’s approach to getting rio to do yoga with her is hilarious and exactly right, canon-typical amounts of subtlety 

1000000/10

Post Break-Up Sex - femalegothic / @bethsuglywigs​

stg this was called Hit Shuffle

no matter

h O T

with a side of damn i’ve made some questionable choices in my life haven’t i introspection

(no regrats tho)

(esp not with this fic)

not the point of the fic by a long shot but i’m also extremely obsessed with Weed Eddie, so real

She drains my soul... she drains it not - niham87 / @niham87​

ABSOLUTELY OBSESSED WITH THIS CONCEPT

am a complete sucker for paranormal world building that satirizes bureaucracy 

Is that a trope? If so that’s my favorite

I did it. I’m picking a single favorite. You know what that is growth dot gif

ANYWAY i love the concept, i love the humor, i love beth instantly clicking with annie

I love her and mick’s sort of grudging professional courtesy

Love beth as a champion of environmental responsibility and all of the underworld being like …...okay??

cannot wait to see where this goes

Nine-Tenths - riosnecktattoo / @riosnecktattoo​

*INCOHERENT PTERODACTYL SCREECHING*

sometimes i think about rio putting beth’s hair in a ponytail and have to go lie down

science please explain why this rUinS mE

wait hold on i skipped ahead

HEY KIDS DO YOU LIKE UNBEARABLY CUTE DOMESTIC TENDERNESS

opens with rio sleepily holding beth’s hand to his heart so that’s the kind of thing you’ll be dealing with

uGH theY’RE sO CUTe

idk why precisely but rio adding hair ties to his bracelet collection is my undoing every time

Missed Call - foxmagpie / @foxmagpie​

Rio doesn’t come home from a job when he’s supposed to. Beth (and I!!!!!!!) slowly loses her mind

Truly a masterpiece of rising tension

Will literally never forgive her for calling this light angst

I was SO STRESSED OUT

The first person to point out there was an author’s note at the beginning I obvs didn’t read is getting blocked

crush - foxmagpie / @foxmagpie​

Listen even though this is centered around two OCs, they are OCs FROM a (n iconic) brio fic AND Beth, Ruby and Rio all make cameos (I mean, Rio’s pretty present since he lives in Mar’s mind rent free bc they are THE SWEETEST MOST ADORABLE BEST OF FRIENDS so idk if i’d call it a cameo but whatever)

and even if it didn’t feature any official GG characters I’d still rec is bc that’s mY SON AND this fic is TOO CUTE

I have so many feelings over mar and rio growing up and not knowing how to cope with girls becoming a Thing in their life and how it affects their friendship and mar feeling left behind but (SPOILERS) at the end of the story rio starts feeling that too and it’s so poignant knowing how that’s going to continue in delinquents

while mar may be my son, i also claim elena’s #1 stan status

before you’re like meg you’re only reccing it bc it’s a bday present ask yourselves do i really strike you as the kind of person that wouldn’t be equally obnoxious about this either way?

truly cannot fathom how hard i have fallen for these OCs i don’t normally do that

@foxmagpie is definitely a witch

The Ottoman - Niham87 / @niham87​

look i will be the first to admit that i don’t go near as bonkers over the ottoman line in 308 as y’all do

(don’t get me wrong, i love it!!! I love that he laughs and i love that she’s pleased it just doesn’t hit my lose my whole mind button like idk, the dubby or the 306 convo, idk why)

BUT i v v v much love the context this delightful Rio POV pwp gives it

am also absolutely feral for 209 missing scene fic

and anything that captures the complexity of Rio’s s3 feelings for Beth and how twisted they’ve become

so this scratches a bunch of itches, is what i’m trying to say

Bet On It - zetuslapetus / @querenaxx​

*INCOHERENT PTERODACTYL SCREECHING*

That’s what my brain does when I think about Beth and Rio meeting in ch 1

am DESPERATELY OBSESSED WITH the tension between the two of them in this fic

I love how it plays with the ways they have to rely on but don’t trust each other

plus FAKE DATING and BED SHARING (fair warning hasn’t happened yet but the set up is there)

originally supposed to be 2 chapters, already up to 4, prayer circle it goes on forever

do you like drugs (tonight) - s_t_c_s / @sothischickshe​

v important focus on hydration, other fic should take note

extremely about the use of cut to and then flashback to enhance the ‘we were on drugs’ vibe

speaking of, beth and rio absolutely would take ecstasy to prove they are fun bc they are the exact kind of idiots that would peer pressure themselves

so glad beth kept her purse, got a bit stressed there for a second, clutches in that kind of circumstance are A Risk

not that i would know

FLAWLESS USE OF VOICEMAIL TBH

really love the ongoing denial that they are remotely into each other while proceeding to demonstrate how they are in fact, extremely into each other, great vibe

rio dances

I know my brain broke too

mmmm bacon

Navigate A Broken Path - flashindie / @pynkhues​

*INCOHERENT PTERODACTYL SCREECHING*

I have a long standing tradition of getting unreasonably obsessed with side characters so i’m not like, entirely surprised by how obsessed i am with both Mick and Mary Pat but i never in a million years considered them as a ship

AND Y E T

they fit????? so perfectly?????? It’s amazing how she developes them individually enough that i look at them together and think ah yes this makes perfect sense for both characters

and they’re such an amazing foil to Beth and Rio? 

can ships have foils? do i know what a foil is? 

unimportant

GUYS you dON’T uNDERStAN d 

hell i don’t understand

how absolutely very dare you make me care about YET ANOTHER set of gg ‘verse children

do not read this fic if you have no interest in feelings you zero percent asked for

wHA t hAPPeNED iN aLASkA?????????

A Moment’s Silence - femalegothic / @bethsuglywigs​

*makes sign of the cross*

y’all are gonna make me rediscover religion

extremely appreciate the author’s note approach to backstory top notch prioritization

listen it’s basically 3k of beth deep throating rio idk what more you need me to say about it

it is…..good stuff

bless the kinkmeme or fest whatever we’re calling it

praise - civillove / @blainesebastian​

I mean you had me at “three times rio calls beth a good girl and one time he really means it”

ephemeral rio

I left that note for myself in here in the middle of the night and haven’t the foggiest what i was thinking but i stand by it none the less

okay okay i think i know what i meant, this fic (as do all of my fav civillove brio fics) has this sort of like, liminal, in the quiet moments feel to them that makes the moments and feelings somehow feel like i’m catching a glimpse of something secret and precious???

idk i just really like it okay

Heart and Soul - riosnecktattoo / @riosnecktattoo​

oh look more unbearably sweet domestic tenderness, this time to music

thank you ma’am for my life

rio remembers beth used to play piano and gets her one and revoltingly cute shenanigans result

also hilarity

and sexiness

this fic has it all, truly

shout out to mick who sees no reason to keep rio’s feelings to himself

good girls tumblr fic - prettylittlementirosa / @hypermania​​

cheating and reccing a whole series

It’s my list and i can do what i wanna

stop crying about it, it’s four fics and they’re all AMAZING absolutely impossible to pick a fav

truly flawless characterization, next level ability to capture evocative mood, cannot get enough

three’s a crowd: who knew ballroom dancing while dean watches and grinds his teeth could be so sexy 

(trick question everything about that premise sounds A++++ and boy howdy does it live up)

feel it on the way home: rio tries to break up with beth, it goes about as well as you’d expect

(thE angSty tenSioN)

i want to play the game: [from the floor] i’m still not ready to talk about it

(rio/turner, missing scene, 10000000% a taste of what went down in that hotel room)

june after dark: pitch perfect annie pov, really really love the take that Annie is the baby whisperer, can’t fully explain why but it feels incredibly right

(ANNIE X NANCY COULD WORK SO WELL YOU GUYS)

#fingers crossed these links are right i did not double check #i like to live on the edge #truly mind boggling amount of fluff on this list i surprised myself on that one #no i will not at any point get my shit together enough to write out thoughtful commentary this is a shit posting blog first last and always #fic recs #gg fic #nbc good girls #i'll come up with a tag for these if i ever do them again #check back 37 years from now #or ~~~~~~march #whatever that means

[greenninjagal-blog]

Deja vu pt4

Hey guys! Sorry for the long wait! Who’s ready for 19 pages of Remus angst? If you’re new around [Here] is the first part, and [Here] is the previous chapter for those who want a refresher!

(To that one person who asked if Remus’s vision would get any clearer: I am so sorry.)

Summary: Remus has been able to see the future since he was eight years old. He thinks that maybe his mother would have loved him a bit more if he hadn’t. (aka, Remus calls home.)

Words: 7879

TW: attempted suicide, blood, death, bad parenting

Read on Ao3 || My General Writing Masterlist

By the time he’s twenty one and four months, Remus is no stranger to cross country traveling. He’s been all over the country, all over the back roads, the main roads, the highways and the interstates. He’s had paper maps from greasy gas stations stuffed in his go-bag since he was eighteen, and keeps souvenirs of his travels in the form of pins and buttons he’s clipped on the shoulder strap. 

He had made it a habit to never travel with a plan. He had chosen directions on a whim, following signs when he felt the need to sleep somewhere, and picked up cars from dealerships when he had been too lazy to use his casino-breaking powers to get the cash to pay for it legally. 

Travelling is something Remus has always been familiar with. The freeing feeling of pressing his foot to the floor and blowing through endless cornfields, of burning more gas than strictly necessary, of getting himself lost on backroads without cell service-- He loves driving with the windows down and the long distances. During the billions of times that he had slept in whatever car he was using, he had enjoyed climbing on the hood and staring up at the stars until sleep dragged him away again. 

Travelling with Dee, however, is something else entirely.

At first it had been different just because there were two of them: the presence of another person made him feel the need to talk to fill the silence, made him actually have to answer the “where are we going” question, made him unsure of if what he was doing was the right thing to do.

(Not the morally right thing-- no that he knew the answer of. He meant the right thing as in the thing that Dee wanted him to do. He imagined in those first few weeks he acted a lot like a pet dog, always checking back to Dee to see that he was doing good, and wagging his metaphorical tail whenever the Shapeshifter gave him that delicious validation.)

Travelling with Dee almost means the death of sleeping in the car they were using. The Shapeshifter believes him when he says that they aren’t gonna be attacked in the night or the police aren’t going to come knocking on their windows, but Dee, as much as he tries to pretend he’s new to riches and money, is a fucking elitist. 

“Why sleep in the backseat when there is a hotel with a bed and breakfast right there?” He used to ask, sometimes still asks, never needs to ask anymore. “Why act like a ruffian without a home when I can live like a king?”

And, well, Remus had looked into his eyes for too long and gotten lost in the depths of them. Dee was pretty, you see? And Remus’s stubbornness was a learned trick that Dee knew how to circumnavigate. 

Travelling with Dee means hotels with beds and fake names in a log book. It means showers with mini bottles of shampoo and crisp covers freshly cleaned and watching the stars from the balconies while Dee smelled his money (again). It means complimentary breakfasts that aren’t super great, but they’re something that Remus hadn’t had in a while and sharing a room with another person who didn’t trust him not to run off with all their money, counting the near silent inhales and exhales, and trying not to think about stupid things like “family vacations” or “Just share the bed, Roman, its one night!”

It means no more stealing cars, because Dee rations out and puts aside money in the most atrocious order-- something that he won’t describe to Remus beyond “you’re cute, but not that cute” no matter how many times Remus asks, or when he asks. Somehow he always has the money for a new car and food and a hotel room and anything else they saw and wanted for whatever reason. 

(“Not that one,” Remus had said, grabbing Dee’s arm before he could even look in the direction of the car in the lot. And Dee blinked but didn’t ask any questions. He didn’t pick out any other silver sedans and Remus managed to make it all the way to the bathroom before vomiting his guts up. Funny, isn’t it? That he can still see blood on a bumper and hear the screams of ambulance sirens thirteen fucking years later?)

Some things are the same, though.

Remus takes note of them as he drives calmly through the evening, like he used to in the four years where he had between running away from everything he’d known and running into Dee’s arms. The air still feels nice with the windows down, his eyes still burn when the opposite traffic forgets to turn off their high beams, the radio is still soft and soothing and plays along to his heartbeat. Dee’s still curled up in the passenger side seat, wearing a fresh pastel peach button up tucked into black dress pants and dress shoes bought straight from the rack. 

He’s still cute like this, vulnerable, with scales on display and his seatbelt imprinting a line on his opposite cheek. There’s a duffel bag of stolen money at his feet, all counted and tagged in his pocket notebook that he never lets Remus flip through. In the backseat are two more duffel bags with just Remus’s atrocious half of the money and another couple of suitcases that contain their material possessions.

Something stirs in Remus’s gut at the sound of Dee’s soft snores. He really is asleep, really does trust Remus not to drive them into a guard rail or off a cliff or into another car. He really trusts that Remus hasn’t been hiding a switchblade in his sleeve, just waiting for the right moment to plunge it into Dee’s throat before making an abstract art masterpiece out of his blood. He really trusts Remus not to park somewhere on the shoulder and take all the money they have between them and disappear in the night without a trace.

He trusts Remus.

And he doesn’t have a clue how much that means. 

Well, maybe he’s guessed a little. After all, Remus still gets that surprised look on his face when Dee actually listens to him, still finds himself rolling that purple coin from the Basilisk Casino that he’s kept, still gets a little shaky when he tells certain futures because this is it, this is gonna be the time where Dee says he’s stupid and crazy and dumb and he’s not gonna listen--

Trust was a hard thing to come by after Remus turned eight. How can you trust the crybaby that starts sobbing every time someone gets a little scratch? How can you trust the psycho kid who needs medication to go to school? How can you trust Roman’s Weirdo Brother when he says he can see the future like some sideshow circus attraction?

But Dee trusts him enough to keep travelling with him, enough to keep robbing banks with him, enough to let down his glamour and show his real self while he’s sleeping.

It's all well and good and fine.

Remus wishes he trusted himself the way Dee trusts him.

The music playing is still something that Dee had picked out hours before, classical and Remus doesn’t hate it necessarily, but he did turn it down so slow that the engine is louder than those stupid violins. Remus has an appreciation for people who find the screeching strings pleasant rather than just annoying, he swears. But the rumbling of the engine, the bump of every uneven bit of road, the slow winding turns is a familiar comforting melody.

Home, Remus knows, is more of the road than any building he’s ever been in. It’s more of the feeling of Dee’s hand in his over the console, more of the smell of pine tree air fresheners mixed with new car, than any concrete solid place he’s ever been.

Which is silly, maybe. Remus thinks if he squeezes his eyes closed really hard he can still picture the layout of the house he and Roman lived in. (Not “home”, not “the place he grew up in” and he definitely didn’t grow up in there-- because it wasn’t until he was seventeen and sleeping in gas station bathrooms in two hour spurts that he learned how the world really was.)

His mother really tried, Remus thinks. She really tried to be a good person, a good mother, a good role model. She made sure they cleaned their rooms and taught them how to do the laundry. She made sure he brushed his teeth and was fed and healthy and smil--

Listen when he--

Helped him take his med--

She tried, okay. Remus thinks that if he had been a normal child he might have grown up happy. He thinks that if she had had any other son to twin with Roman she would have been a fantastic Mom. He thinks that if he hadn’t gotten his power at eight fucking years old he would have been able to articulate what the fuck was going on and they might have had a chance.

Then he wonders what the hell they would have had “a chance” at. 

And then he gets angry about himself even thinking about it and---

---drives his car directly into the guardrail. Killing himself instantly with the force of the side collision and the air bad while Dee gasps for life he desperately was clinging too and the car that had been behind them for three exits screeches to a stop a dozen yards ahead of them and with passengers scrambling from their pickup truck screaming for help---

---drives his car directly into the guardrail. Killing himself instantly with the force of the side collision and the air bad while Dee gasps for life he desperately was clinging too and the car that had been behind them for three exits screeches to a stop a dozen yards ahead of them and with passengers scrambling from their pickup truck screaming for help---

---drives his car directly----

 And Remus keeps driving on the quiet road, switching lanes so he’s in the middle lane rather than the side one.

Its not a good night.

Well in all honestly it hasn’t been a good day either. They had spent most of it driving and Remus hadn’t meant to be quiet, but his thoughts had been so loud he forgot that not everyone could hear them. They felt like screams, like a blow horn directly into his ear drums, like his brain was being torn apart with each and every fire of a neuron. 

Thinking hurt. He hated to do it. 

Dee must have picked up on it, must have taken note of his change in attitude since that morning when he had grabbed the car keys off the dresser and hoisted their bags into the car. He had asked once, Remus thought, maybe. It would have been out of character for him not to ask what Remus was doing with the keys, but if he had asked he had only done it one time.

And Remus hadn’t answered it and Dee hadn’t asked again.

He also hadn’t asked where they were going. Remus thinks that was blessing, a mercy, a silent kindness that he was too selfish to even say thank you for. He didn’t know where he was driving to, just that he had blown through a full tank and a half and somewhere over ten hours of driving and that they had crossed timezones again.

And the concept of timezones had made him angry enough to slam his foot to the floor and nearly run a blue minivan off the road entirely.

He switches hands he’s steering with, flexing and stretching his digits to the rhythm of his heartbeat.

There’s four hours now. 

And Remus knows this because even if he hadn’t graduated highschool he knew how to read a clock. Which was what he had been doing all day: watching the speedometer and watching the clock and watching his blood pressure rise with every mile he drove.

There’s four hours between them now. Which means nine o’clock for him, which means the dim sky, which means the peaks of the faint stars through the grey cloudy sky, the closed mom-and-pop shops and the dwindling number of other cars-- which means that everything around him currently is not the same thing for someone who is four hours behind them.

Dee is asleep, shifting tiredly, when Remus, grinds his teeth together so hard and violently and angrily.

His skin feels wrong, too tight, too small. It feels like someone else and he’s only borrowing it. It twists around his lungs, constricting around him like a python and stealing every breath from his chest and getting smaller with every inhale. 

His legs burn with a restless energy and his eyes hurt from driving for so long and he’s hungry.

The radio fuzzes as he drives, as they reach the end of the station's signal range, as the violins finally die and leaves them with just static. The noise is grating in a way that Remus can’t quite place, something more annoying than the screeching of his own thoughts that won’t shut up. He reaches blindly for the power button, trying not to take his eyes off the road because he doesn’t want to plow them into the back end of the SUV they’ve been trailing behind for the better part of fifty miles. 

The radio goes off. 

Remus’s thoughts do not. 

The cloudy sky makes it darker than it actually is, making him turn on his headlights and make him growl at the lane reflectors he comes across every so often. The words on the signs might as well be written in Greek because Remus doesn’t bother reading them at all.

Mostly.

He tries not to. 

But there’s one that spells out “RESTSTOP” and it gouges its phantom fingers in Remus’s brain, refusing to leave him alone after he sees it. He drives and he tells himself it's because they haven’t eaten all day, because Dee probably needs to use the restroom, because he needs a stretch. Dee hasn’t complained at all, you know? Remus owes him a little bit of a stop. Maybe they can look for a fancy hotel with a penthouse edition and get himself drunk on the minibar delights.

That’s all.

It hasn’t nothing to do with the four hour time gap.

Dee doesn’t wake even when he pulls into a well lit parking spot. There’s a handful of other vehicles in the lot: a deep green hatchback with two bikes strapped to the top, a jeep with no doors and a lot of mud, a group of sixish motorcycles and the owners of them standing nearby talking quietly. He counts at least seven eighteen wheelers resting for the hour all with a collection of name brands and graffiti on the backs. 

 Remus puts their own car in park and sits back, taking it all in. 

He’s no stranger to travelling, hasn’t been for a long time. At twenty one years and four months old he’s no longer scared of the dark and certainly not scared of going to a public restroom. The signs clearly mark eating areas, restrooms, the dark, creepy, not-at-all well lit path into the woods for those who need to stretch and want to be murdered by psycho crazy forest clowns. There’s vending machines that take credit cards for sodas and packaged foods and Remus even spots one selling cheap portable phone chargers.

There’s a payphone booth.

Three actually.

None of them are in use, currently.

Remus looks back at the clock in their car-- its a quarter past nine-- and wishes that he couldn’t do math so well in his head. Maybe if he hadn’t been able to count he would have been able to take the stupid urge by is scrawny neck and throw it out the window while he drove right on by. Maybe if he hadn’t been able to keep track of days so well he would have been able to ignore the date. Maybe if he hadn’t been so great at counting he could have been better at something else, anything else, something normal.

She had tried, hadn’t she? 

So Remus should have been thankful, grateful, happy at least about that, right? It was his fault that he hadn’t been able to figure out that his visions were telling the future until a year later, until the doctors told him it was all in his head, until his own mother had decided he was making it up. She had listened to him those first few times, listened and reassured him, and held him close when he couldn’t breathe from the crippling fear that Roman was going to die. She had weathered each of eight-year-old Remus’s breakdowns with the patience of a saint.

And he still hadn’t been able to be that perfect son for her.

“Take your meds, Remus,” She had still told him when he was sixteen and had stopped crying when he watched her cross the parking lot without looking. “Take your meds and you’ll get better.” She had said even though that wasn’t what the meds did for people who actually took them. The meds hadn’t been the glue to piece him-- or anyone-- back together. They just reminded people of how their pieces fit without scratching and breaking and shattering even more.

And Remus hadn’t even needed them back then, because his problem hadn’t been like anyone else's. 

It hadn’t been delusions and hallucinations in his head. It hadn’t been him going crazy, it hadn’t been him losing himself. 

She had tried though. To be a good mother. To love him and all his….quirks.

“I don’t need you!” Roman had said. Very loudly, very openly, very angrily. And Remus thinks about that day a lot, often, all the goddamn time. Because they had been arguing all the way up the stairs, had been fighting verbally and their mother, their mom, Mom, had been just below them in the kitchen making dinner-- or maybe it had been a dessert, baking? Or just messing around in the kitchen. She had been there.

And they had gotten in trouble for arguing much quieter before.

Remus thinks about that day. He thinks about the vision of Roman dying by his own hand, of the blood and the gore and then fluttering pulse and the concept of a soul leaving the body. He thinks about how his parents would have come running the moment they heard Roman scream in pain.

He thinks. 

Maybe he thinks too much. 

And maybe one day he’d get the courage to ask himself the big looming question: Had she loved him? Or had she loved the concept of him?

Today wasn’t, hasn’t been, isn’t that day.

It’s nine thirty, here, at this rest stop somewhere in Oregon, where Remus is clawing his fingers on his thighs and letting his unevenly chewed nails catch on the holes in his fishnets. Its nine thirty here on the day where Remus is twenty one and four months old and staring at a payphone like it was about to ring all by itself. Its nine thirty one and Remus is thinking too much, too loudly, not enough.

It must be around five thirty for her. Right in the middle of dinner. Or after. Maybe she’s doing the dishes under scalding water that boils her hands right off. Maybe the dinner was poisoned and she’s clawing at her throat right now. Maybe she went out for the evening and got hit by a car when crossing the street.

Remus knows he could check. He doesn’t.

Because his skin is already itching and his breath is too hot and he wants to cry but he’s too old to be crying over things like this, just like his mom has said a thousand times over. 

He wonders if she would believe him if he told her how many times she had cried over Roman, how many times she had frozen at the sight of her precious baby boy going still and silent, how many times she fell to the ground and clutched at his body screaming her sobs like there was a chance any god out there would hear her anguish and give her son back. 

Like she had only one to love and cherish.

She had tried.

Remus wants to laugh so badly it hurts. The urge itself rips through his body, shredding his organs with a razorblade and filling his lungs with fluids followed and squirming its way up his throat inch by inch with a determination Remus hasn’t seen in himself since that gas station four years ago where he saw himself jump in front of an eighteen wheeler and felt his insides go splat! for the first time.

Remus wants to laugh, because she had tried, and it hadn’t been enough and Remus still---

He still---

Remus pulls the keys out of the ignition and throws them in the cupholder next to the sleeping Dee. He exchanges it for his wallet, which had seen far better days and been handled far nicer, but that’s beside the point. His driver’s license is overdue but nothing short of a nuclear bomb will get him back to the state he had once lived in-- he skips over it and the various rechargeable cards he had picked up over the years (Starbucks, Seven-Eleven, a Techron Advantage Card he got for fun and never actually used because Dee always paid for gas) and goes straight for the cash.

They’re all large bills. He takes a fifty.

Dee murmurs softly as he unbuckles his seat belt and flies into a wide blown panic when Remus opens the door. Quicker than Remus thought was possible for a guy to move, he springs over the dividing console and grabs Remus’s arm with-- OW FUCK DEE -- claws.

Remus yanks back on instinct, throwing himself against the already open door and tumbles into the empty parking spot next to them. His arm howls with pain, with an agony, with a cacophony that drowns out all his other thoughts for the moment. 

The blood is red. 

Remus is twenty one and four months old and his body wracks with such a vehement hatred for the color it makes the rest of his blood, the blood in his veins, the blood in his body, his blood boil. Its red, and he hates red, has hated red, will forever hate red.

Because red was the color of Roman’s favorite jacket when they were eight, the color of Roman’s shoes that he left out on the stairs too many times, the color of Roman’s blood too.

Red had been the color staining the bumper of a silver sedan, the color of a broken snow globe hitting the carpet, the color of Remus’s insides on the freeway, and the underside of an eighteen wheeler, and the bottom of the motel bathroom tub. 

“Remus!” Dee yells from inside the car, morphing, changing, panicking in a way that is not like him at all. He clambers into the driver's seat looking too pale for a guy whose skin tone could be any color he wanted it to be. “I’m sor-- I didn’t know we ha--- Oh my god I’m sorry!” 

He grabs all the napkins they have squirreled away in the crevices of the car, then the half empty tissue pack from the last time Remus had decided to check to see if the line in McDonalds was going to be long, then a scarf Dee had bought before he remembered that it was warm enough to cook eggs on the sidewalk in most of the places they went to. He spills out of the car even less gracefully than Remus had, bubbling up apologies like his mouth was a fountain. There’s an emotion wafting off him, something that taints the air and makes the hair on Remus’s neck stand on edge.

“It’s okay,” Remus whispers.

“You’re not okay!” Dee frantically responds, turning a stripe of his hair blonde and completely missing the part where Remus did not say he himself was okay.

Dee’s fingers feel like bugbites up and down his arm, like cigarette ends being jammed into his flesh, like he was the cake and Dee was placing enough candles in him to make up for every birthday his mother had missed celebrating.

“Its okay,” Remus says, tugging his arm away before Dee can turn him into a house fire that burns down the whole block.

“Remus--”

Remus stands up. “I need to make a phone call.”

Remus doesn’t need to make a phone call. He probably shouldn’t make a phone call. 

“Remus!” Dee says standing up too. He’s taller this week, today, now, than he’s been before. He’s got an inch on Remus, and he uses that inch to look down at him and breathe like every inhale might be his last. There’s blood on his hands from trying to mop up where Dee had clawed him. Remus can feel the warmth of his blood trailing down his fingers even now. 

“What the hell is up with you right now!” He demands in a way that makes Remus’s stomach churn, that makes his knees weak and his throat feel all lumpy in all the wrong places. 

He should be mad. Dee should be furious at him for ignoring him all day, for driving them through a handful of states, for not pausing for bathroom breaks or any type of food, for not waking him when he stopped at the rest stop. He should be so angry he can’t see straight, so enraged that he stood up and grabbed the keys and drive the fuck away from here. He should be mad.

So why does he sound so scared? 

“Is this about the Mall?” Dee asks, “I can do better, Remus, please! I’m sorry!”

He’s babbling like a brook, about things in the mall that Remus barely remembered because it was a day and a half ago and three, four, five states gone. He’s talking about the Mall the same way that eight-year-old Roman had been apologizing for name calling, while Remus was three sheets in the wind during a tornado on his own thoughts.

“No,” Remus says, which is about as effective as shoving his finger in a hole in a dam.

The parking lot lights make Dee look like he’s standing in a spotlight on stage. Remus hates the sight, hates the feeling that they’re putting on a production for someone else's entertainment, hates that he should know his lines by now and because he doesn’t he's ruining everything around him.

Dee moves like a clockwork mannequin with rusted gears. Remus thinks he can hear each individual gear screech as his back straightens and his weight shifts back and Dee looks more like Roman than he’d ever know.

“N--n--” Dee repeats, “No?”

As if he didn’t know what the word meant.

“Like….no I can’t do better?”

-- “Like, No Get Back in the Fucking Car, Dee!” Remus explodes.---

--“Like No, Leave me alone for five seconds!” Remus erupts.---

--”Like No, Its not your fault I’m a fucking mess!” Remus chokes.---

--- “Like No, Its not your fault. I’m sorry. Please don’t leave me.”--

-- “Like No, I’m making bad decisions and I’m sorry and I don’t know what to do and I know that you don’t really love me the way you think you do because no one ever loves me that way. Like No, this is a future that I’m not going to choose but I wish I had because keeping this all in my chest hurts like a little bitch, Dee. It hurts so bad. Like no. I’m sorry. I’m so sorry. I’m going to have such a nose bleed from this one, and because you’re you, you’ll know that I’ve been bullshitting my way through this for a good while. My power’s broken, Dee. Don’t you see? And once I tell you what's going to be left for you to stay?.”---

“Like No,” Remus says, defeated. “I don’t even remember what happened at the Mall.”

Dee stares at him with stolen sapphire eyes, with an emotion he can’t place, with wordless questions Remus doesn’t want to answer.

He doesn’t know what time it is.

A drip of his blood leaks down his lip and lands on the asphalt at his feet. That’s okay.

He breathes in the dry air, feeling it scratch down his throat and butcher his lungs with each inhale. “I...need to make this phone call.”

“Why?” Dee pleads, and Remus thinks that if even Dee can tell it will end badly, he should know better than to go through with it. 

But Remus has been thinking too much lately, about too many things. He’s been trapped up in his own head, and the last people he tried to let help him gave up on him.

And he still can’t give up on them.

“It’s her birthday,” Remus says with a smile that borders on deranged, “And she tried, you know?”

He doesn’t know. Remus can tell by the look on Dee’s face. But that’s okay. They made a pact after all, after that first night, that they wouldn’t get personal, that discussions of feelings were off the table. And Dee had said in a future that hadn’t happened that Remus was an investment that will pay out one day. It doesn’t matter that he doesn’t know.

“Remus,” Dee says, controlling the stage like he was born to do it. “What will she say?”

Remus shrugs and turns away because he’s never been able to make it past intermission of any production he’s watched. The fifty in his hand has splatterings of blood, his arm aches and whines as he uses it to smear away the waterfall from his nose. At least a couple of the sidewalk lights are broken so he doesn’t scare every single normal person chilling at the rest stop as he walks up.

Remus is twenty one and four months, but that doesn’t mean he doesn’t waste forty seven dollars on snacks from a vending machine just to get the change in quarters to call cross country. He’s not hungry but he peels open a Cliff bar and takes a bite anyway. The rest of the food he leaves on the patio floor around the vending machine for whatever comes by, be it the kids he can hear yelling or the raccoons watching from the tree line.

He glances back at the car, their car, Dee’s car. Just to make sure its still there. That Dee didn’t drive off without him.

Dee hadn’t, didn’t, doesn’t. He’s sitting in the driver's seat with the door wide open, half in half out, and it looks like he was fiddling with the radio again.

Remus tosses the other half of the bar into the trashcan and walks the last three steps to the payphones. 

She had tried. Remus puts the phone to his ear and tries to remember how to breathe. 

The buttons are stiff. Remus’s knuckle leaves behind traces of his blood as he dials. The back of his throat tastes like his inside of his stomach. There’s a gritty feeling along his teeth and the bottom of his mouth from the Cliff Bar. He’s knees tremble to the sound of the ringing, leaving him swaying in the too-long silences, in the bated breaths, in the calm before the hurricane. 

“Hi! It's the Regis Family! We’re not available right now, but if you leave your name and number, we’ll get back to you!” 

Remus’s mouth tastes like blood. He swallows it down, breathes through the rest of the message, the beep and another moment where his chest just aches with a billion words he doesn’t know how to say.

“H….hey.” His voice is raspy. Why is his voice so raspy? He clears his throat. “I, uh...I was calling to say, Happy Birthday. Hope it was a good one. That’s all. B--”

“--Hello?”

Remus’s jaw clicks shut at the noise, the words, the voice. Because even four years later Remus knows it like the back of his hand, can still imagine it screaming his name in the store, of it laughing as she brushed through his curls, of it whispering softly that everything is fine, everything is okay, I’m right here, Remus.

“Ha, Hi! Sorry about that, you caught us just as we were getting back to the house! Oh, this is embarrassing… Who is this? Our caller ID isn’t working…”

She trails off.

Remus thinks he’s forgotten how to breathe.

She sounds out of breath, flushed and happy and excited in a way that he doesn’t remember her ever being before. His vision tunnels through memories, through scenes in his head where she’s smiled and laughed and giggled the way she’s doing right now. He’s coming up blank.

He grabs the wall to keep himself steady.

“Hello?”

“I’m here,” Remus croaks.

She’s different now. So is he. Everything is different and the world seems to stop at that mind blowing statement.

“.....I’m sorry,” She says, “I really need to know who this is, now.”

Remus should hang up. 

Remus needs to hang up. 

He laughs, like he’s on death row, like the barrel of a gun in on his temple, like his foot just left the ledge.

“What?” He asks, “Can’t a mother recognize the sound of her own son's voice?”

There’s a breath. A moment. A second. Remus feels it. Like it's tangible, palpable, real. Like all the clocks in the world decided to stop. Like a tick without a tock. Like the past and the present and the future didn’t exist at all. There’s a breath, and Remus thinks that she had tried once, maybe she could try again. 

They both could try again.

“Oh my god. Is that...Baby, is that really you? I’m so sorry for what I said. You were right.” 

“Wait--”

“You’re always right. And I’m sorry about-- about everything. Please let me make it up to you?” His mother says and Remus gets a sinking feeling in his chest.

“What--”

“Or at least talk about it? Can we do that?”  His mother says and Remus should have hung up.

“Mom--”

“Can you come back home, Roman?” His mother says and Remus sees red.

Because, of course, she thought he was Roman. Of course. 

Red is the color of Roman. The color of his jacket and his shoes and the ball Remus should have thrown into the road when they were eight. The color of a past Remus can’t get rid of because every time he does anything he can only hear Roman’s voice in his head or picture his mom with her red lipstick telling him to take his pills and stop being so abnormal. It’s the color of a future that he can’t reach because every time he gets a little bit of hope he’s reminded that he’s unnecessary and forgettable. 

Red is the color of Remus’s blood that looks just like his twin’s but somehow has always been valued less to their mother.

He squeezes the handle of the phone so hard his fingers go numb from the pain, and the scarf around his wrist turns scarlet. His body trembles and bubbles and boils like its housing a volcano ready to erupt, or a thousand termites are trying to chew their way out of him, or every atom in his body is trying to shake themselves apart.

Remus is twenty one and four months old and he hangs up the phone so hard that it pops right back out of the slot and swings to the ground by its cord.

He doesn’t fix it. In fact he doesn’t even see it because he’s too busy seeing red. Too busy seeing Roman’s head collide with the bumper of a silver sedan, too busy seeing Roman’s neck break when he falls off the swingset wrong, too busy seeing Roman’s body on the ground of his carpet surrounded by the shattered remains of a snowglobe, too busy seeing all the things he should have done or let happen or helped happen.

Too busy knowing that hindsight is 2020 and Remus’s insides suddenly want to be outsides and his arm hurts and he wants to-- 

He wants to--

--“REMUS!” Dee shrieks from across the parking lot, sprinting towards him because he forgot that he can shapeshift into something faster. There’s a terror in his eyes, a fear, a horror in his expression that's like being stuck under a collapsed building and knowing that no one is gonna come. “REMUS! SOMEONE HELP!”---

--“REMUS!” Dee shrieks from across the parking lot, sprinting towards him because he forgot that he can shapeshift into something faster. There’s a terror in his eyes, a fear, a horror in his expression that's like being stuck under a collapsed building and knowing that no one is gonna come. “REMUS! SOMEONE HELP!”

But no one is close enough and Remus’s knots are a practiced stubborn thing that has his body convulsing before Dee remembers he can make claws and cut the scarf off.---

--“REMUS!” Dee shrieks from across the parking lot, sprinting towards him because he forgot that he can shapeshift into something faster. There’s a terror in his eyes, a fear, a horror in his expression that's like being stuck under a collapsed building and knowing that no one is gonna come. “REMUS! SOMEONE HELP!”

But no one is close enough and Remus’s knots are a practiced stubborn thing that has his body convulsing before Dee remembers he can make claws and cut the scarf off.

But by then Remus is already dead.---

But no that’s not right. 

He doesn’t want to die. 

His mouth tastes like metal, and he’s so sick of the taste of metal, of the smell of blood, of the sight of red on his clothes and on him. He’s so sick of being the weird twin, of being the one everyone wants to forget, of being gifted with a power that's so shitty it his own body rejects it. He’s so, so sick.

And tired.

And angry. 

That he spent all day trying to figure out what to say to his mother and she doesn’t even remember him. That his family pushed him away and now he watches himself jump off buildings or into traffic or off tables at a rest stop. That his skin feels too small and his mind too big and that there is absolutely nothing wrong with him but everyone still treated him like there was.

“Pardon me,” A voice says to his left. “Hello? Sir? You seem to be bleeding...”

It belongs to a guy with glasses, big thick blocky glasses that match every other part of him: his sharp jawline, his stiff spine, his set shoulders. It belongs to a guy with hair so dark it might as well have been a black hole, with eyes swirling with so many blues they looked like nebulas, with skin so pale it might as well have been the surface of the moon. It belongs to a guy that reaches out oh so carefully and touches Remus’s shoulder to check that he’s alright and---

-- “A stick in the mud?” Logan suggests sourly as they walk. The rain speckles his glasses and plasters his hair to his head.

“I was gonna say prude, but that works too,” His younger brother shrugs, sipping loudly from his drink. “Girl, you really just need to loosen up. You’re always so stressed!”

“I do not need to loosen up,” Logan counters, “In fact, if anything, I need to tighten up my interactions with people more. You saw what happened to the baristas at the Starbucks.”

“Yeah, and it was Awesome!” His brother motions to the drink in his hand, “Free drinks!”

“Will it still be awesome when they get fired and lose their source of income because they unwittingly gave away merchandise to customers?” Logan asks. He tugs his jackets around him tighter, hunching his shoulders and wishing that between the two of them they had thought to bring at least one umbrella.

His brother rolls his eyes because the rain doesn’t bother him anymore than the slight chill or the cars passing dangerously close to their sidewalk. “Honey,” He says, “Its two free drinks. It’s not gonna kill the infrastructure.”

Logan grunts, dismissing the rest of the argument as he was prone to do more often these days. “Remind me again why we’re here.”

“That prince dude is supposed to be around here today!”

“You mean, Princeps,” Logan corrects. “Assumedly named after the swordsmen from Roman armies pre-Marian reforms. Which does not make any sense considering that he does not carry a sword and his perceived power does not--”

“I wanna get his autograph!”

Logan squints back at his brother. “You want the autograph of a man who is running around the country in tights? You don’t even have anything for him to sign.”

His brother shakes his mostly empty drink and points to the spot right below where the barista had scratched out his own name, not that Logan can see it, or anything. “Duh.”

Logan shakes his head, as his brother prattles on about Princeps face, his biceps, his thighs. And as much as Logan enjoys listening to his brother talk about things that interest him, he wishes that it was something other than men that thought “superhero” was a stable dayjob. He sighs and removes his glasses and to clean them as best as he can with the raindrops being the nice of dimes.z

 He hates the rain, hates that he couldn’t ever see more than three feet when it so much as sprinkled, hates that his brother has no such problems at all and can continue walking without a care in the world.

“LOGAN!” His brother yells.

And Logan has just enough time to feel his stomach jump straight to his throat, before he walks blindly into an open manhole. His forehead slams on the outer rim so hard he sees actual stars in the corners of his blurry vision. And he fumbles and  flails and falls and...

And the empty air catches him, covets him, carries him off. Because he’s dead as soon as his head hits the concrete floor ten feet below---

Remus inhales like he’s been drowning for the past four years, and hasn’t been able to find the surface. He stumbles back from the stranger who had approached him, from the man who has a younger brother, who doesn’t like superheroes, who’s name is Logan. He stumbles back and feels the whole Earth roll under his feet, turning the solid ground to an uneven puddy.

Logan jerks back as well, be it shock or surprise or something in between and equally bad. He looks at Remus, the way that the first dealer from the Basilisk Casino had, the way that the new freshmen at their high school had when the older kids told them to steer clear of the guy who looked just like the theater star, the way that Roman had when he had first seen the orange bottle of pills that were supposed to make Remus not cry all the time.  

“My apologies, you seemed to be in distre--” Logan starts.

“Don’t touch me,” Remus says quicker, louder, angrier. Because Logan doesn’t know that he’s going to die some day in the future, that its going to be a stupid sudden death, that his brother that he actually loves and whom loves him back is going to witness it. Because Remus doesn’t know why he knows either.

His skin blisters and bubbles and itches in a way that tells him he needs to take it off. His arm burns from the scratches, his blood is making his hand and wrist all sticky and his head feels a bit like cotton. His mouth tastes like Starbucks Hot chocolate and ash. 

“Don’t touch me,” Remus says again, because he feels radioactive and can smell petrichor in the air and everything about it is wrong. If he says anything else he thinks he might throw up or cry or both and he doesn’t think anything other than more blood can come up.

Remus turns and runs. 

“Remus?” Dee asks, when Remus throws himself into the passenger seat the way he should have that morning.

Remus shakes his head. And keeps shaking it because if he stops his thoughts will catch up and then they’ll really be in trouble.

“Drive,” He manages between his inconsolable gulps for air.

“Where?” Dee asks.

“Don’t care.”

He doesn’t. He just needs to be somewhere other than here.

Remus is twenty one and four months and he’s no stranger to travelling without a destination. Dee buckles his seat belt and pulls out of the parking spot without another word. Remus brings his knees to his head and counts, and counts, and counts. If he closes his eyes he thinks that he might see the silhouette of Logan standing next to the payphones staring at his hand still so he doesn’t close his eyes.

“That’s just what I’m saying, John.” The radio says, “All these new people with what can only be classified as “superpowers” and what is the Police doing about this? Nothing!” 

“Hotel,” Dee says, “We can order some food there and actually look at those marks on your arm.”

“Whatever,” Remus says.

“Well what do you expect the Police to do?” The radio says, “Their answer to everything is “shoot it.” I don’t know about you, but I don’t want the police shooting at a kid who just so happened to be able to make lightning. You heard about that incident in the Idahoan Mall didn't you? Times are changing. It's up to the people to police themselves now.”

Dee sticks his tongue out ever so slightly, like a snake smelling the air.

“You’re encouraging the actions of people like that dragon guy from that incident? The child from that event is in the hospital right now. 

“So is the man that had been robbing the store. Which is better than him being the morgue. I’m not saying that I think that putting children in the hospital is a good idea! I’m saying that only protecting the lives of “good” people is telling everyone to become judge, jury, and executioner. The Idaho Mall Incident could have been handled better-- in fact I think if the new guy, the one around the east wearing the white? You know the one I’m talking about, Karen.”

“Yeah, yeah, the Prince? I think he called himself Prince.” 

“Yes. If the Prince had been the one who had handled the Idaho Mall, it could have been handled completely peacefully, without either parties having ended up in the hospital.”

Dee grips the steering wheel, tightly.

Remus reaches out and turns the radio off.

[Part 5]

#Deja vu AU #remus sanders #Janus Sanders #sanders sides #Logan Sanders #roman sanders #tw:blood #tw:suicide #Remus is not having a good time #Demus #Oh look!! A wild Logan!! #And a peek at what Roman has been up too #oooh its almost like....Roman has a power too #ooooo #remus angst #this boy needs some therapy I'm so sorry #Anyone else really hate Remus's mom?

[snkpolls]

SnK Episode 60 Poll Results (for Anime Only Watchers)

The poll closed with 159 responses. Thank you to everyone who participated!

Please note that these are the results for the Anime Only Watchers’ poll. If you wish to see the results for the Manga Readers’ poll, click here. 

Anime only watchers, beware of spoilers if you venture over to the manga readers’ poll results.

--

RATE THE EPISODE 130 Responses

And we’re back! An explosive premiere brings the series back. The vast majority seemed to enjoy the episode, with only 2.3% of folks giving it a score below a 3.  

I thought some of the directing in the action scenes was odd and the music didn’t feel as well integrated/utilized as in past seasons.

If this season is consistently as good as this first episode, AOT will indeed end as a perfect masterpiece

ARE YOU HAPPY ABOUT THE CHANGE FROM WIT STUDIO TO MAPPA? 127 Responses

The Studio change from WIT Studio to MAPPA was a subject of much scrutiny and debate before the season’s release. With almost 61% showing some form of enthusiasm about a new studio’s take on the series. The opinion is not uniform, of course, with just over 18% stating their preference for WIT studio. Slightly less (17.3%) can’t give an answer yet and the rest don’t seem to care at all.  

I wished MAPPA would make the latter episodes a little more vibrant and lessen the blur

mappa as some of my favorite shows (banana fish, yuri on ice, etc) so it was kinda cool to see they picked up AOT szn 4 ! i’m excitedly waiting to watch the next episode, (and with my ‘watch partner’ aka tumblr friend who discusses with me as we watch LOL).

WHAT DO YOU THINK ABOUT THE CGI TITANS? 127 Responses

If there’s one thing that’s rather controversial about the series’ animation adaptation, then it’s certainly the use of CGI (particularly when animating Titans). The opinion of the fanbase seems to be rather positive, nonetheless. 72.4% of responders gave the CGI some praise (be it more open or more reserved), while 18.2% were more negative about the use of CGI. At the bottom was 9.4% who stated that they preferred WIT’s style of CGI to the one utilized in the episode.  

cgi wasn't bad but I was disappointed that it wasn't the 2d animation from the trailer

HOW DO YOU FEEL ABOUT THE NEW OPENING? 128 Responses

When it came to the season’s opening, there was a positive response, with more than 72% expressing a favorable opinion. 21.1% didn’t seem to care for it and about 6% stated that they thoroughly disliked it. 

OP is WAY too overrated, nowhere near as good as the original, too much glorification of the kind of nationalism that led to Nazi germany's rise to power

HOW DO YOU FEEL ABOUT THE NEW ENDING? 130 Responses

The new ending received very similar scores, with a similar figure of more than 72% expressing a positive view of the ending and a little over a quarter not caring for it. The proportion disliking it was much lower however, with only 2.3% of folks expressing those thoughts.

HOW DO YOU FEEL ABOUT THE 4 YEAR TIME SKIP? 126 Responses

One of the grandest developments that came about in this episode is the fact that a 4 year time skip has occurred since the defeat of the Warriors in Shiganshina. Although there is a sizable minority expressing negative feelings (13.5%), the definitive majority is coming in with enthusiasm (70.6%). The rest are still thinking this change over. 

wtf is going on? Who are these new people? Why are we supposed to care about them if they're from Marley? Where are the main characters? Yeah, I suppose Reiner and Zeke technically count as MCs, but there is an appalling lack of 104th characters that needs to be fixed asap!

HOW DO YOU FEEL ABOUT THE SETTING CHANGE? 125 Responses

In a similar vein, a remarkable new development is a change of setting. The majority (almost 61%) see it in a positive light, while 16% seem to dislike it. Just over 19% aren’t certain yet. 

After what Reiner and co. did, I am not at all interested in their side of the story and just want Eren and co. to completely decimate these people

Fun to meet new characters but I'm eager to know whats going on with the characters we know

It feels a little disorienting but it's a logical progression of the story

Strange

Wouldnt mind the change of setting if we at least had it from the 104th's perspective

I wasn’t expecting it to be so focused on new characters, and I was disappointed at first but I’m indifferent now.

Not liking the new perspective. At least for this new batch of kids. If Reiner and Zeke are going to be a major focus for a while, wouldn't a short series of flashbacks for their pasta work better than a completely new spin-off from the main story?

WHICH NEW CHARACTER IS YOUR FAVORITE SO FAR? 125 Responses

As this episode introduced a lot of new characters, we got a colorful pie chart for this one. The plurality of responses (40%) chose the kind-hearted Falco, while 28% went with passionate Gabi. 14.4% chose the caring Colt and 13.6% went with the cool Jaw Titan holder. The last couple of responses picked out the stoic General Magath and the quiet Zofia. Poor Udo didn’t get a single vote!

I loved it. I love the new art style, my favorite scene was Gabi destroying the train, she's awesome. I really love Falco as well and Colt. Galliard's titan design is sick

I literally don't give a shit about these new kids, I don't care about their story, just bring back EMA and the 104th already!

WHO DO YOU THINK WILL INHERIT THE ARMORED TITAN? 125 Responses

Another colorful pie chart! An almost even split for the (possible) future inheritor of the Armored Titan. 37.6% believe Falco will take it, while 27.2% went with Gabi. 33.6% do not see any of the cadets inheriting Reiner’s titan and the last couple of votes went ahead to Zofia instead.

WHO HAD THE BETTER GLOW UP? 127 Responses

When drawing comparison to Reiner and Zeke’s looks in the previous season, there was a clear favorite among the responses - Reiner, with 74%. Zeke had the preference of 15% and those who didn’t feel like either of them “went through a glow up” took 11%. 

can we acknowledge how good zeke, reiner, and [redacted] looked 😌🥰

REINER PLEASE FUCK ME

WHAT DID YOU THINK OF THE JAW TITAN? 126 Responses

New season, new setting, new titan! The vast majority of viewers seem hyped about the Jaw Titan and find its design really cool. 15.9% aren’t as thrilled about it, and 9.5% haven’t decided yet. Most of the write-in comments implied a connection with the Jaw Titan. But for the purpose of avoiding spoiling those who haven’t drawn the same conclusion, we won’t be publishing them. Just know we see you. ;)

i was lowkey scared lmao

CART TITAN - BETTER WITH ARMOR OR WITHOUT? 127 Responses

We are reunited with the eerie Cart Titan from S3, but this time flexing cool armor and machine guns on its back! The overwhelming majority of respondents prefer it better tricked out in its armor, over a small minority who appreciate its natural creepiness more.

MOST OF THE EPISODE FOCUSES ON GABI. WHAT DO YOU THINK ABOUT HER? 124 Responses

Gabi appears to be a point of controversy among anime viewers already, with 38.7% viewing her favorably, 37.9% viewing her less favorably, and 16.9% not sure how to feel about her yet. Some comments feel she is similar to Eren in some ways, while others found her annoying. And yes, she did break international law. :P

Eren, but smol and female xD

I hate her already

I think she’s awesome

She's like Eren was

she passionately creepy but i like her lol

shes annoying

Gabi is SO annoying istfg really hope Falco gets more focus than Gabi, he seems nicer and more relatable

FALCO MENTIONED SOMETHING ABOUT “FLYING AROUND WITH A SWORD” AND “ATTACKING TITANS.” WHAT DO YOU MAKE OF THAT? 126 Responses

Overall, no one seems to know what’s going on, though many are theorizing that this is related to the paths, titan powers/memory transfer, or Eren somehow. What could this mean for the future of Falco’s character?

Dig at anime viewers returning to S4

He saw the memories of a survey corps member

I have a couple theories, regarding the memories that intelligent Titans share back and forth

maybe he had one of those flashback/forward things that erens dad had

WHO DO YOU THINK WAS BUYING THE NEWSPAPER AT THE END? 126 Responses

Nearly 90% of respondents are certain that this mystery character is someone we know, while just a small handful of people believe it’s someone new, and about the same amount not ready to make a call one way or the other yet. Some write-ins on the poll had guessed specifically who the character may be already. But we won’t spoil you just yet. 👀

The end credits guy is definitely someone we know, but I highly doubt it's Eren

The sharp-looking dude at the end just HAS to be someone we know on Paradis, there's no way they'd just throw us in to this new cast of nobodies without some connection to the main characters

WHAT DID YOU THINK OF ELDIANS BEING USED AS WAR FODDER? 126 Responses

The treatment of Eldians on the mainland is something that the majority of respondents see as detestable, with 87.3% finding the use of them as war fodder to be downright cruel. A smaller amount of people either felt it was a necessary evil, or didn’t feel strongly about it one way or the other. 

Literally waiting for the 104th to show up and fuck shit up for these inhumane monsters

That's what happens in the real world. The persecuted minority gets used as war fodder.

i d k 👀

DO YOU THINK IT’S POSSIBLE FOR RELATIONS BETWEEN ELDIANS AND MARLEYANS TO IMPROVE? 123 Responses

Colorful opinions mean more colorful pie charts! Most viewers feel that there is no way for the relations between Eldians and Marleyans to improve (30.1%) or that relations will never improve, with the exception of a rare few who are sympathetic to Eldians (22.8%). A smaller amount (totalling 32.5%) feel that it’s possible for things to improve whether it be due to a change in Marleyan leadership or due to the two sides having to come together for the greater good. 14.6% of respondents stand in the middle ground, unsure of whether relations can improve or not.

ADDITIONAL THOUGHTS ON THE EPISODE?

Honestly at first it was very confusing but overall I enjoyed it

So when do we get to see the 104th again?

I figured there would be more modern technology involved in the story, but I'm not a fan at all of the direction it's going so far. Makes me worried the ultimate basement reveal was the peak of AoT's greatness.

it was action filled!!! although i was sad so see that there are 16 episodes n not like 24(i think), it means every episode is gonna deliver!!! off to a great start, op and ed are amazing. renier had a nice glow up and JEAN WAS THAT U AT THE END?? yessir!!! beast titan looked ugly asf but when was he not ugly?? LOL

Idk wtf that opening was but I kinda like the ending. Falco seems like a good kid. I just REALLY hope he doesn't end up doing anything to hurt the protagonists (I fully expect Gabi to, she's already a violent ax-crazy kid)

just give me some Armin

WHERE. IS. EREN?

WHERE DO YOU PRIMARILY DISCUSS THE SERIES? 124 Responses

Thanks again everyone for participating in the poll! We look forward to seeing your responses for next week’s episode!

#snk poll #snk polls #snk spoilers #snk s4 #shingeki no kyojin #attack on titan #snk #aot

[buckysforeverprincess]

Can Our Love Survive? Ch. 19

Bucky Barnes x Reader, Natasha Romanoff x Reader

Words: 2086

Warning: Drug use-marijuana, talk of sex

A/N: I am so sorry about not sticking with my schedule. So, I’m not gonna say much, just let you read. Enjoy!

***TAGLIST FOR THIS SERIES IS CLOSED***

The holidays came and went, and before you knew it, spring had almost sprung. Things had settled down and everyone found a routine that worked out, all of you doing your part to get things done. It wasn't all sunshine and roses, but the frustration was minimal and usually came from you and your twin and those things always worked themselves out.

Shortly after Bucky had moved in, he told your mom he wanted to get a job to help with the money situation. He knew having the extra person in the house would be a financial burden on her and he wanted to do his part. Sarah Rogers, the bad ass she was, was having none of that. “Your education is more important than a few extra dollars. I'll worry about the money, you worry about getting good grades,” she told him over dinner one evening. There was no winning against Sarah and the conversation was quickly dropped, never to be brought up again.

What none of you knew was Sarah Rogers was already receiving a check each month, courtesy of one George Barnes. When George returned from his getaway, Sarah went to the Barnes home and had a not so nice conversation with the deadbeat douche. Since George had abandoned and neglected his sixteen-year-old son, it was in his best interests to cooperate and pay monthly for his son’s expenses while staying in the Rogers home. George did not want Child Protective Services involved or anyone for that matter and he wasn’t about to have his image tarnished or his name slung through the mud, so letting the money go was the best way to not have to deal with his son and that’s something he could live with.

George also had no problem signing over guardianship of James to Sarah, having no desire to parent Bucky. Sarah was willing to step up and be legally responsible for the boy and felt he’d been neglected enough by the people that called themselves his parents. It was time an adult took an interest in him, nourishing and encouraging him along the way, making him aspire to achieve greatness and know his worth. Sarah Rogers would always go the extra mile for her kids, and she’d already accepted Bucky as one of her own.

March had just begun, and with that came Bucky's birthday. You were happy to spend his seventeenth birthday with him, but there was more to it than that. His birthday marked your five-month anniversary. It wasn't a six-month milestone people normally celebrated, but you wanted to make it special and memorable for the both of you.

It’d been five months and sex still hadn’t happened between you. Bucky was amazing at not pushing and letting you take the lead but it didn't mean all things were off the table. You've seen this dick, touching it and stroking him to orgasm, hand jobs becoming a normal occurrence in your bedroom. And in return, Bucky brought you to climax courtesy of his tongue and boy did he know how to use it! Your vagina had the pleasure of getting really acquainted with the masterpiece that was his mouth and he completely ruined you for anyone else in the future.

Even though you'd shared those intimacies, you still couldn't bring yourself to have penetrative sex. You'd tried several times, but it just wasn't happening. Bucky said it was okay, and was never upset, but you felt like a failure. How could you touch his cock and let him eat you out, but the moment his cock comes anywhere near your vagina, you freak! You needed help getting through this and needed someone to talk it out with.

 Pulling out your phone, you went to your messages and brought up the conversation with your best friend, typing out a message and hitting send.

Y/N: Nat, I want to have sex with Bucky.

Nat: Well hello to you too, sunshine.

Y/N: Yeah, hi. Back to my original problem…..

Nat: Is that a question?

Y/N: Nat!!! Help me!!

Nat: You put the weed in the coconut and light that shit up.

Y/N: OMFG!! Fuck off… wait, you have weed?

Nat: *sigh* Well, unless you want to body swap, I'm pretty sure you're on your own.

Y/N: Ugh! Why are you so difficult?!

Nat: Because, I am the love of your life, (not Bucky. I've been with you longer), and the only one that puts up with the needy bitch you are.

Y/N: Then help me!!!!

Nat: You're so whiny. Take a fucking xanax already!

Y/M: I did, not helping!

Nat: Then eat a dick and shut your bitchy mouth.

Y/N: I can't… Bucky's not home!! And it's not my mouth that's talking, it's my fingers.

Nat: Then put them in your vag and leave me alone.

Y/N: Fine, you're not my BFF anymore. Guess I'll be giving myself to Bucky forever. You can no longer have my body when I die.

Nat: Shut up snatch, I'm on my way.

Y/N: Bring weed?

Nat shows up twenty minutes later, kisses you on the cheek and hands you a baggy. “DO NOT let your mom know! Momma Rogers will murder me!”

 “I'll just blame it on Clint. He came over the other day smelling like skunk. Mom rushed them to the hospital and had ‘em drug tested. Steve's grounded by the way, if he didn't tell you already. He also lost his car for a month and mom is making him volunteer at the hospital.”

 Nat shakes her head and the two of you head to your bedroom, locking the door behind you,

lighting some candles and opening the window. Nat takes a joint out of the bag and lights it up, inhaling deep and handing it over. You repeat the process and the two of you continue passing it back and forth, not saying a word until you feel the drug take over.

“So, you wanna have sex with Bucky.”

 Nodding, you take another puff. “Fuck yeah, I do.” You pass the joint back to her.

 “What's stopping you?”

 “Brock.” The name just rolled off your tongue without hesitation, mostly due to being blazed.

“I'm gonna say some shit cause we're high as fuck and it’s the only way I can say it...” she stops and glares at you waiting for approval to continue and you nod, giving her the go ahead. “Stop letting that fucker control you!! Not every dick is Brock's and Bucky seems like he has a nice size cock-”

 “It is very nice…,” you interrupt, “Oh! And big too!”

 Nat looks at you annoyed. “Don't interrupt me. Will you just fuck your man already! Once you do, I promise, you'll never want to stop.”

You sit in silence and try to process her directness. “Ok, but how?”  

 Nat rolls her eyes and shakes her head. “I assume you know the logistics of fucking.” She takes another hit of the joint.

 You sigh. “I can't just be like ‘hey Bucky, stick your dick in my vagina and fuck me!’”

 “The fuck you can’t!” Nat raises her voice but then passes you the diminishing joint. “Just sit on his lap and ride him like the brahma bull he is.”

Taking another puff, you furrow your eyebrows, confusion evident on your face. “Wait… what's a brahma bull?”

 Nat rolls her eyes hard. “You know, The Rock?!”

 You shrug. “Don’t know him. Should I?”

 “Oh, my fucking god, I can’t with you!” She bursts out laughing, doubling over from the intensity.

You sit on your bed, your high at its peak, and you stare at your best friend. There's something you need to ask and now seems like the best time not knowing if you’ll ever muster up the courage to ever say these words again. “Nat… why didn't you stop me?”

 Your best friend stops and sits up, her face going slack. “Would you have listened?”

 Nodding, you lower your head. That wasn’t the only question you had but for the next one you couldn’t look her in the eye. “How long, Nat?”

 “I don't follow?”

 You look up at her, your eyes meeting hers. “Don't play dumb… how long?”

 Nat shakes her head. “Does it matter now?”

 You reach out and place a hand on top of hers. “It matters to me.”

“It changes nothing, right?!” She lifts her head and sighs. “Since middle school. I've been in love with you since middle school. Happy now? How’d you even know?!”

“I’ve always kinda knew, just had a feeling. And you should've said something. Things would’ve been a lot different and that ass bag would never have happened.”

 Nat smiles. “You wouldn't be with Bucky, because I’d never let you go.” She leans in and kisses your cheek, making you blush. “You deserve Bucky. He's your forever and I'm just your very best friend.”

 Grabbing her face softly, you look her in the eyes. “You're more than my best friend and no one could ever replace you in my life. Without you, I'd be lost. Bucky may be my forever, but you have my soul.”

Nat grabs you and pulls you into a fierce hug. “I love you, принцесса.”

 “I love you, too.” It comes out muffled.

There’s a knock at the door, making you jump out of Nat’s tight embrace. “Baby, you in there?!” Bucky’s voice comes from the other side.

 “Fuck, Nat! Hide the shit!” Nat grabs the baggie and puts it in her jacket.

 “Honey? You ok?” He knocks again and you hear him jiggle the doorknob.

 “Just a second, I'm coming!” You yell at the door. “Spray my perfume!” You point to the bottle on your dresser and watch as she grabs it and begins spraying around the room.

You move to the door and open it to see your boyfriend standing there, a look of concern on his face. “Hi!” You say, the grin on your face not hiding anything.

 Bucky eyes you and then Nat and inhales deeply. “Are you high?”

 “Who me? I don't know what you're talking about?” You try to hold back a laugh, but it doesn't work. “It's her fault!” You point at Nat but turn back to see Bucky's mad face.

 Nat shrugs. “Hey, I just supplied it, didn't tell you to smoke it.”

Bucky huffs and shakes his head. “You know if your mom finds out she'll give you a worse punishment than Steve, right?”

 You wrap your arms around his neck and put your face close to his. “So, don't tell and I'll make it worth your while.” You lean in and kiss him softly.

 Bucky rolls his eyes. “Better clean up and get the smell out. I'm not sleeping in here if it still stinks. I refuse to endure the wrath of Sarah Rogers.” He gives you a chaste kiss. “I'll go start dinner. Nat.” He tips his head and walks out, leaving you with your best friend.

“He sleeps in here now?” Nat asks and grabs her coat, putting it on.

 “Yep. Told mom we weren't having sex because I wasn't ready. He told her it wasn't a deal breaker and he could wait. Guess it was enough.”

 She chuckles. “And now you want to have sex. How fitting, just don't get caught.”

 You smirk. “Do I ever?”

Nat rolls her eyes and stands up from the bed. “I'm gonna go. Give me a hug bitch!” Nat holds out her arms and you step into her embrace.

 “Thanks for coming through and for the talk, but Bucky effectively killed my buzz.”

 Nat laughs just a little, amused by your comment. “I'll see myself out, you rest. Sleep that shit off.” She starts to walk out of your room but stops in the doorway and turns back around. “You know you really didn’t need me to talk you through this. You’re ready for the next step. Stop doubting yourself. He’s not him, never will be. Get your man and make me proud.” She winks and then disappears through the door.

 Throwing yourself on the bed you know she’s right. Bucky will never be Brock so there’s nothing to worry about. This time around it’ll mean something to both of you and things could never be as fucked up as it was when you both lost your virginity to other people. You’re ready and it’s time to give yourself completely to each other, and you know the perfect time and place to make that happen.

 * принцесса-Princess

COLS Tags:

@ellallheart @nerdy-bookworm-1998 @bookgirlunicorn @widowsmaximoff @jhangelface0523 @broco8 @eliza5616​ @nighttwingg​ @bloodyproudpotterhead​ @sexyvixen7​ @marvelismysafezone​ @orions-stars3​ @ava1453​ @beardburnsupersoldiers​ @afterlaughter27​ @booboobella01​

Forever Tags:

@jamesbarnesappreciationclub​  @kruscht​  @palaiasaurus64​  @breezy1415​  @sarahp879​  @supernaturaldean67​  @averyrogers83​  @scarlettsoldier​  @lovely-geek​  @titty-teetee​ @geeksareunique​ @peaceinourtime82​ @leosandbuckysgirl​ @the-goddess-of-mischief​ @mychemicalimagines​ @awkwardfangirl2014​ @collette04​ @notyourtypicalrose​ @onebatch--twobatch​ @miraclesoflove​ @kcd15​ @xxloki81xx​ @death-unbecomes-you​ @thatfanficstuff​  @hotoffthepressfics​ @chuuulip​ @unlikelygalaxygiver​ @lancetuckershairgel​ @babypink224221​ @mybabe-buckybarnes​ @shield-agent78​ @the-real-kellymonster​ @caplanreads​

#bucky barnes #james bucky barnes #james barnes #james buchanan barnes #bucky #bucky barnes x reader #james bucky barnes x reader #james barnes x reader #james buchanan barnes x reader #bucky x reader #natasha romanoff x reader bff #marijuana use #drug use #can our love survive #high school au #marvel #marvel au

[thdorkmagnet]

Where in the World is Janna Ordonia?

Hello everyone! Here is my Carmen Sandiego AU/ Master Theif Janna AU, whichever you want to call it! So this is, as you probably guessed, inspired by the new Netflix series "Carmen Sandiego". Ever since I watched the first episode I've been picturing Janna filling this role so much and I just had to write it! But I did change some things around from the show like making Janna a straight up thief rather than a thief who only steals from other thieves. This will also be a Jantom fic since I don't think there are nearly enough of those out there right now and I wanted to help add to the collection. This ship needs more love!

Also big shout out to Andychipss for the awesome cover art! If you get a chance check her out over on Instagram! She always does an incredible job!

Disclaimer: Star vs and all its characters belong to Daron Nefcy and Disney. Carmen Sandiego belongs to Broderbund Software, Netflix and Lauren Elliott. All right go to them.

The city of lights was dazzling that particular evening, its namesake casting a brilliant and beautiful glow across all of Paris. Even the dark corners seemed to hold a life to them, making the whole city feel as peaceful and romantic as they say. And on one particular rooftop stretching high above the paved streets below stood a young woman. She wore a black long-sleeve shirt with matching pants and long black boots, giving her the outward appearance of a shadow herself. But blending in would be rather difficult for her since over that she wore a bright red trench coat and matching fedora. Her short dark hair hung slightly out from beneath her hat. She had tanned skin and brown eyes. Her appearance was eye-catching that was for sure, which was why it was a strange choice of attire coming from one of the most elusive and legendary thieves in the world. Her name which was known across the world was Janna Ordonia, the Scarlet Thief.

The girl looked coolly out from under the brim of her hat, holding a pair of small binoculars to her eyes. From her sight, she spotted her next target up ahead, a museum. She watched as some security guards made their rounds, in the exact pattern she memorized over the last few days of staking the place out. "Predictable," she sighed slipping the pocket-sized spying device into her coat pocket. "I was hoping for a bit more of a challenge," she groaned in boredom.

"Well y'know, you could wait until Acme shows up," came a voice from inside the communication device in her ear. "You know some of their agents are on your trail since you set fire to that shop earlier today." His voice was accusing now, clearly trying to make her feel guilty for her crime.

But Janna was unaffected by the attempt, saying plainly, "Come on, Alfonso, I can hardly be blamed for that, they were asking for it."

"How?" Alfonso asked in exasperation.

"Charging 30 bucks for a stupid model of the Eiffel tower is insane!" Janna scoffed. "And they call me a thief."

The young hacker just sighed burying his head in his hands. "Anyways, am I all clear to head inside?" Janna asked returning the conversation back to the task at hand.

Alfonso complied, doing a few keystrokes on his computer, but still grumbling under his breath in annoyance. "Yeah, hang on," he mumbled, shutting down all security in the museum as if it were no big deal. "There, done. But you better do this job fast before someone realizes it's down."

"Hey no problem, fast is my middle name," Janna said, doing a quick stretch to loosen up her muscles. It was important to stay flexible in this line of work.

"I thought you didn't have a middle name," Alfonso pointed out.

"Well I just gave myself one," the girl replied, before leaping off the roof. As she fell she whipped out a grappling gun she kept in her sleeve, firing it and attaching it to another building's side. She felt the string go taint as she sailed around the side of the building, detaching it fluidly off the wall before flying into an opened window and right into the museum.

Her feet hit smooth tile as she tried to slide to a delicate stop. But she didn't predict her momentum correctly as she stopped just short of hitting a wall and knocking a small pedestal holding some priceless vase on it. Janna didn't even have time to dive for it before it hit the floor and shattered into a million pieces. The young thief sucked in a breath waiting to see if the loud noise had attracted any guards, but after a couple beats of silence, Janna declared it a false alarm and let her body relax once more.

Alfonso, however, was less calm, as his squeaky voice spoke up from Janna's earpiece, "What was that noise?! Janna did you break something!"

Janna scoffed, kicking the fragmented pieces under a nearby fancy rug. "Aw, relax I'm sure it wasn't that important."

"Janna!" The young hacker screamed and the girl was tempted to take the earpiece off to avoid the inevitable rant but settled for merely reminding her friend, "Better keep your voice down, Al. Wouldn't want to wake your roommate."

The audible groan through the earpiece was her reward as she sauntered superiorly though the quiet museum, keeping her eyes peeled for her target. Alfonso's roommate Ferguson often got on the young hacker's nerve, especially when they were on a caper. The loudmouthed teen seemed to have no self-control as he would frequently butt in and distract Al while he was trying to hack, getting overeager and nosy over what the two were doing (treating it more like a game than a life or death situation), and just being a general nuisance, which frayed Alfonso's last nerve. But this seemed to do the trick as the boy stopped with his incessant whining and Janna was able to enjoy a couple minutes of silence, taking everything in. She walked with practiced ease through the marble halls, making sure her footsteps made no sound as she traveled deeper inside. Her brown eyes scanned the area, alert and precise, despite her relaxed posture, taking in slow breaths of musty air.

She always loved being in a dark museum at night, the empty and quiet always soothing to her. As much as she loved chaos, even Janna couldn't deny how beautiful and simplistic a simple trip through the abandoned hallways could be. It was like looking into a hidden world, a peek behind the curtains. During the day, the museum was close to bursting with tourists and tour groups and kids on school field trips, making the experience feel cheapened and hallow. But at night, that was when the museum could truly be itself, no lights, no spectacles, no overzealous explanations of what made its contents art, it could just exist and allow its art to speak for itself. And that was something Janna could relate too.

Her eyes glance lazily around at the paintings and sculptures and all forms of artistic achievements, each one a masterpiece in its own right and each one probably worth a fortune. But none of them were what she was looking for. She had a much bigger prize in mind.

The girl came to a stop in front of a large painting, the image a portrait of a sailor, the delicate paint strokes perfectly encapsulating the man's gruff demeanor. Janna cocked her head to the side as if admiring it closely as she said into her earpiece, "Alfonso, I'm at the painting."

"Great, the panel should be behind it, I've overwritten the security codes but you'll have to pick the lock yourself," the hacker replied, all business now.

Janna smiled mischievously. "Not a problem." She took a step closer to the painting, saying softly to the image, "Sorry about this, captain." She gently grabbed the painting's frame, lifting it off its hook and moving it as carefully and quietly as she could. As she did she noticed that her eyes were now level with the deep angry eyes of the painting and she muttered under her breath, "Hey, don't give me that look. You brought this on yourself." Without another word, she set the painting down on the opposite wall, before turning back to her next objective. It was a small safe, made of thick unbreakable metal, and Janna could see it had two sets of locks on its smooth surface, an electronic lock with a small series of buttons and a panel, as well as a combination lock next to it. On closer inspection, Janna could see that Alfonso had already done his part, the panel flashing the word "Entry". Now all that was left was for Janna to do her part.

Janna cracked her knuckles, flexing them a little to make sure they were nice and loose. She carefully grabbed hold of the small turn-style knob, putting her ear up to the door as she began to ever so slowly move the knob left. Soon she heard a click echo through the cold metal and smiled, immediately turning the knob the other way, waiting for the next click to sound. She continued on with this meticulous task, making sure to move slowly and preciously with each turn of the dial. Until finally, the last click sounded and she took a step away, whispering smugly, "Child's play."

With one swift motion, she turned the handle and pulled the safe door open, staring inside with a victorious smile. Inside the small metal box sat a plain black briefcase with a simple lock that took the highly skilled Janna only a minute to pick. She flicked up the latches before opening the container, wanting to make sure she had the correct package. And just as she had predicted inside sat a small golden statue sealed tight in the foam covering they had carefully placed around it so it wouldn't be jolted or damaged. The statue was in the shape of a woman, a ballerina, her arms raised in a graceful and beautiful pirouette.

"Is it there?" Al asked nervously, he always got anxious when he couldn't identify the item firsthand.

Janna whistled, eying the statue closely as she muttered under her breath, "Oh it's here all right."

The young hacker let out a sigh of relief, before saying, "Good."

"Must be pretty special if our client wants it so badly," Janna commented.

"The Golden Dancer is one of the rarest statues in the world. It is one of a set of three identical statues kept in hidden locations around the globe. They originated in-"

"Geez, Professor Al, I didn't ask for the history lesson," Janna interrupted, sealing the briefcase back up and closing the safe. It was time to cover her tracks. Hopefully, no one would even notice it was even missing, at least for a while.

Alfonso let out a groan of annoyance but decided to change the subject, informing the girl instead, "Okay Janna, you'll need to be extra careful moving around the statue, we don't want to risk damaging it."

"Come on, Al, we've worked together for how long now?" Janna told him, setting the large painting back in its place from before. "Don't you know me better than that by now."

"The fact that I know you so well is exactly why I said something," Alfonso deadpanned.

Janna made a hurt scoff into the tiny device, telling him, "Well that's just rude." Her face showed a different story though, as she just smirked and nodded in satisfaction at her work. The painting was now perfectly aligned on the wall again, not an inch of it out of place, you couldn't even tell it had been moved at all. She picked up the briefcase, saying smugly, "Okay, now I think it's about time for my dramatic exit."

Just then a loud shout sounded from elsewhere in the museum, the echoed voice bouncing around the walls and Janna turned to it with a start. "Jan, what was that?" a nervous voice asked in her ear, Alfonso clearly hearing the voice too.

Janna, however, just whispered softly to herself, "Hmm, I was wondering when they'd show." Her smirk widened as she added, "This should be fun."

…

The two Acme agents walked side by side through the dark museum, both on high alert, their eyes darting as they meticulously searched the room for any threats. Well the young man was, the other seemed too entranced by every painting, sculpture, and statue they came across, her blue eyes gleaming with admiration as she looked over each piece of art. This wasn't the only contrast between the two, the two seeming to be as different as night and day, despite their similar style. Both wore fancy black suits (the standard for all Acme agents) but where the boy's was well-pressed and had not a crease out of place, the girl's was wrinkled in a few places but still quite beautiful on her slim frame. The man's short spiky brown hair was perfectly styled and lay even on his tanned face, his brown eyes narrowed in grim determination, which was almost thwarted by the adorable mole just under his left eye. His blood-red tie was a stark contrast to the pure white dress shirt he wore underneath his suit. The girl's long blond locks seemed to almost flow down her back, a small blue butterfly clip resting just above her bangs. She had on a carefree smile and walked with a noticeable skip in her step. She had on a dark blue tie and wore a black skirt and dark blue stockings rather than the dress pants of her partner. The only similarity the two seemed to share were the matching golden rings they both wore on their right hands.

"Do you really think someone is in here, Marco?" the blond asked, her eyes still gazing around in curious innocence.

"Well according to our intel-" the boy began.

"Meaning you," his partner interrupted, giving him a teasing look.

Marco smiled and blushed slightly. "Well, yeah. I mean, I am a man of many talents." He cleared his throat, willing away his blush before continuing in a matter-of-fact tone, "Anyways, Star, I heard news that the Scarlet thief was recently spotted in this area earlier today after setting fire to a local shop..."

"Classic Janna," Star commented.

"And then the whole security grid for the museum just happens to go offline the same day," Marco continued. "A place where they are keeping one of the rarest and most priceless statues in the world, mind you. Seems just a bit too suspicious if you ask me."

Star shrugged, saying, "Makes sense to me."

"In fact, Janna is probably in here right now, so we need to stay focused and not get distracted by anything."

"Got it," Star said, doing a small salute. But as she turned her head she let out a small gasp, grabbing onto her partner's arm and squealing, "Oh my gosh, Marco. Look at that adorable painting of a kitty! I have to take a picture of it!" the girl pulled out her phone but it was quickly snatched out of her grip.

"Star," Marco scolded, pulling his arm free of his girlfriend's surprisingly strong grip. "We aren't tourists, we have a job to do, remember?"

"Okay..." the girl muttered, giving him a pouting look that caused Marco's stomach to do flips at how adorable she looked. But he held back his coo as he simply nodded and told her, "Good."

The two had only gone a few more steps before something new caught Star's eye, the girl saying, "Look Marco it's a unicorn vase, ooohhh I want one!"

"Starrrr," the boy said, gaining the girl's attention before gently reminding her, "Focus."

"Right, right," Star said, nodding, her eyebrow now furrowed in determination. "Focus, I got this."

The two continued on a few more steps only for Star to gasp in shock again, causing Marco to sigh in annoyance. "What is it now?" he asked in defeat. Star quickly pointed up at one of the large statues towering over them. A big, hulking ox looking thing with an angry expression on its stone face. "Oh my gosh, Marco that statue guy looks just like you!"

"What, that looks nothing like me?!" the boy exclaimed, putting his hands on his hips as he gave the girl an angry glare.

Star had to fight to hold in her laughter as the boy's expression and demeanor matched the statue creature perfectly, the girl barely managing to stifle her chuckle by slapping a hand over her mouth.

"I don't know, Marco, I think it's pretty spot on?" a voice said behind the pair, and Star and Marco both turned to see Janna staring down at them from the floor above, leaning against the railing with a casual ease.

"Janna," Marco growled under his breath, reaching into his jacket pocket and whipping out his stun gun. He aimed it up at the thief, shouting out, "Don't move!" Star did the same next to him, yelling up at their target, "Hands in the air!"

"Well, which is it?" Janna asked, an eyebrow slowly raising but making no sign of complying.

The two agents shared a look, their cheeks now slightly pink, before Marco said in slight annoyance, "Just stay where you are."

"Sure, no problem there," Janna said, leaning a little heavier on her arm. "I'm quite comfortable up here."

"Well hopefully you'll be just as comfortable in prison, cause that's where you're headed, Janna Ordonia," Marco commented bitterly.

Janna scoffed, shaking her head. "I see you haven't changed any, Diaz." She paused looking over at Star before asking, "So how have you been, Star?"

"Oh, I'm great," Star replied brightly.

"Hey, don't change the subject!" Marco shouted.

"What? I'm just seeing how you two have been. It's been a couple of months since the last time we hung out, after all."

"If by 'hung out' you mean you swiping my wallet and using it to buy drinks for every pub in Ireland," Marco muttered in annoyance.

"Hey, you should be thanking me, you're a local hero there, now," Janna replied.

Marco's eyebrow twitched, but he said nothing more. There was never any point in fighting with Janna.

"Look, Janna," Star took over, picking up on her boyfriend's increasing annoyance. "We all know you stole something from the museum so why don't you hand it over and then we can-"

"Whoa, hang on a second!" Janna interrupted her face and voice showing interest for the first time since they had arrived as her eyes finally spotted the matching rings on the agents' hands. "Since when have you two been engaged!" She quickly picked up on the intense blush that soon coated the young couple's cheeks, as well as the quick loving look that passed between Star and Marco, before their focus returned to Janna.

"For a few weeks now..." Star admitted, clearly overjoyed to be confessing this, even if it was to their enemy.

"Unbelievable, I can't believe you two didn't tell me!" Janna scoffed out, shaking her head in disapproval.

Marco rolled his eyes, muttering under his breath, "Maybe because it's none of your business."

"So how did it happen?" the thief asked, leaning closer to the two, her eyes shimmering with questions.

The brown-haired boy opened his mouth to remind her once again that their personal life was none of her business, only for his fiance to blurt out in an excited squeal, "Oh my gosh, it was the sweetest thing, Janna. You should have seen it. One minute we're beating up a group of VILE agents, the next Marco's down on one knee proposing!" Star let out a long sigh at the memory, putting a hand to her blushing cheek, her shoulder just barely touching her finance's side. "It was so romantic."

"So, where's the wedding going to be?" Janna asked with genuine interest.

"We decided to have it in Marco's old hometown," Star replied instantly. "Nothing too fancy, just a simple wedding with our closest friends and families. Don't want to attract too much attention, y'know."

"Staarr," Marco whispered to her in warning, trying to remind his future wife not to divulge too much information to the perceptive thief. He knew she was excited and everything but Janna was the last person he had wanted to know about their special day, considering her track record for making his life miserable every chance she got.

"Huh, sounds nice," Janna commented from above, sounding genuine and sincere, even going as far as to flash them what could almost pass for a warm smile. But Marco wasn't buying any of her act, he had been fooled by her one too many times. "So when can I expect my invite?" she added.

"Uhh, never," Marco deadpanned.

Janna gave the boy a fake hurt look, feigning ignorance as she asked, "What, why not?"

"Maybe because we don't want a common criminal hanging around during our wedding," the boy snapped, giving her an accusing glare.

"Plus, we're kinda arresting you, soooo," Star added, with an apologetic shrug. At that, the two agents held their guns up once more, their gazes hardening as they kept their focus and attention on their target.

The young thief let out a dejected sigh, sitting up and turning her back on the two but still keeping a light grip on the railing behind her. "Fine, I see how it is," she said in the saddest tone she could muster, watching out of the corner of her eye to see if they would let their guard down any.

She inwardly smirked as Star lowered her gun just an inch, her face softening in sympathy, while Marco only seemed to grow more suspicious, his eyebrows somehow furrowing more than they already were. "Look, Jan, just toss us down the briefcase and we won't have to use force," Marco said in a slow, even tone, but Janna easily caught onto the hidden threat that lay beneath.

She let out a deep sigh, before saying softly, "Whatever you say." The next few seconds went by in a flash as Janna instantly turned and jumped over the railing, now falling back to the first story. Star and Marco flinched, Janna seeing their fingers tightening on the triggers of the stun guns but before either could react fully, the girl threw the briefcase in her hands, it smacking directly into Marco's chest causing the boy to grunt in pain and surprise and crash to the floor hard. Star turned to her boyfriend in fear, Janna forgotten as she screamed out a panicked, "Marco!"

Janna, meanwhile, quickly shot out a grappling line from inside her sleeve, where it roughly attached to the ceiling. The string went taunt allowing the young thief to soar over the two agent's heads. She detached the line, tucking into a roll as she hit the ground and soon she was back on her feet once more.

Janna turned, seeing Star checking on her partner, who was more stunned than hurt and didn't even hesitate to shoot out another grapple line which latched onto the forgotten handle of the briefcase, before being zipped back over to her at record speed. Janna caught it with practiced ease, looking smugly over to the pair of agents now shooting her confused but angry glares, and she merely winked and tipped her hat toward them, saying in her typical sarcastic wit, "Thanks for holding onto that for me. But I think I'll be going now."

The thief took off at a run, knowing it would only be a few seconds before the two agents pursued her with a fiery vigor and she needed to put as much distance between her and them as possible. And just as she predicted within seconds Janna heard a loud voice shout, "Hey wait!" and she increased her speed, heading straight for the top floor of the building.

Star helped Marco to his feet before the two quickly ran after the escaping thief, the latter growling under his breath for being outsmarted again by the willy Janna. He ignored the slight heat in his cheeks, keeping his focus entirely on his target, whose head start was doing little to match his and Star's speed, quickly gaining on the girl.

The door to the roof busted open as Janna emerged, running toward the edge with Star and Marco right on her heels. Janna didn't even hesitate as she jumped off the roof, sailing flawlessly through the air before landing on the rooftop of the next building. She turned to give the two a victorious smirk before running away at top speed again.

Marco and Star, however, were far from beaten, the two racing ahead with no fear or hesitation as they too leaped off the building's side, landing on the next roof in perfect synchronization. Janna turned to see the two chasing after her again and she smiled to herself. This was just the challenge she had been hoping for.

The chase across Paris continued, Janna leaping from rooftop to rooftop, with little to no regard for her own safety, even the breakneck drop that waited below and the cold, bitter wind rushing against her face doing nothing to slow her pace. She began trying to dissuade the two agents from following as she took riskier and more dangerous jumps, knowing from experience that Marco would more than likely take the safest route available, rather than risk injury for him or his girlfriend. That boy was always too overly cautious for his own good, something Janna was hoping to use to her advantage.

But for once, Marco didn't seem to be falling back on his safe ways, keeping pace with his target as he precariously threw himself across every gap he came across. Star happily doing the same, looking like she was having the time of her life, chasing after the elusive thief with her boyfriend.

At this point, Marco's lungs and limbs were screaming at him to stop and allow them to rest. But the boy didn't listen, instead pressing them harder to continue. He was going to catch her this time, he was sure of it. And his hopes rose as he saw the row of buildings was soon coming to an end, instead opening up into a near-empty harbor, the light from the moon catching in the gentle waves and causing the water to shimmer and dazzle. That was definitely too far for even Janna to jump.

The girl seemed to notice this as she brought herself to a stop, just inches away from the edge. She turned to face the two agents, who were both huffing and puffing at this point, exhausted from the long trek over the Paris skyline. But they smiled at her with tired but victorious smirks, Star saying in a gasped breath, "Ha, looks like we win! You're trapped!"

"Just give up, Janna, there's nowhere else for you to run," Marco added, his voice low and full of finality.

"Maybe not," the girl said in a soft tone, keeping her face blank, before she smirked and added cryptically, "But maybe I don't have to." Her eyes snapped over to the waiting harbor below, before returning over to the two agents. Star and Marco gave her quizzical looks for a second before they both gasped in shock, realizing what she was saying.

"Wait, you aren't seriously going to try and jump that, are you?!" Star asked in disbelief, her eyes widening some in worry.

"No way, Star, she's just bluffing!" Marco said confidently.

"Are you sure about that?" Janna asked, taking a step closer to the edge, a gust of wind nearly knocking her hat off her head but she stood unmoving against it, bracing herself against its biting chill.

Star looked over to her boyfriend, cupping a hand around her mouth as she whispered to him, "I don't know, Marco. She seems pretty serious."

The boy agent paused, heeding his girlfriend's advice and giving his target a closer examination, taking in Janna's relaxed and almost teasing posture, her eyes showing no sign of hesitance or concern. Marco inwardly cringed, Star was right she was definitely up to something. But he didn't let it show as he again warned the girl, "You can't make that jump, Janna. Just surrender peacefully and things will go easier for you."

Janna cocked her head to the side, making a big show of thinking this over, tapping a finger against her chin in a clearly mocking manner. "Hmm, I don't know. 'Surrender' and 'peaceful' aren't exactly in my vocabulary." Keeping her gaze locked on the two agents she took a step closer to the edge, her foot now partially off the building, a wide smirk growing on her face as she added, "Besides since when have I ever taken the easy route."

Then, without another word, the girl turned and lunged forward, kicking off of the roof with all her might, sending her form flying smoothly through the air. At the same time, Marco lunged for her, hoping to catch her before she was out of reach. "Oh no you don't!" he screamed, his hand reaching out to grab onto her signature cloak. But he was just milliseconds too short, his fingers barely brushing the bright red fabric before it slipped through his fingertips, leaving him touching nothing but air... and falling quickly and precariously toward the waiting water below. Marco let out a high-pitched scream, his arms flailing in a desperate attempt to somehow slow himself, before splashing into the cold moonlit harbor, a spray of water sent hurtling through the air.

Janna, however, remained as calm as ever, holding out an arm and firing off her grappling gun once again, it easily connecting to the side of a building across the stream before yanking her quickly towards it, the trained thief doing a quick flip in the air before landing expertly on the rooftop.

Star, who had watched the whole display from the safety of the nearby building, muttered to herself, "Oh right, grappling hook. Forgot she had that."

Down below, Marco surfaced, coughing and spluttering as he spat out as much water as he could from his lungs, looking shocked and bewildered from the unexpected dive. His spiked hair now lay flat and clung to his head at awkward angles, his form shuddering in the frigid temperature.

Janna looked smugly down to the young agent and then back up to Star before saying, "Well this has been fun, but I got to run." The girl then began making her way across the rooftop, walking smoothly and steadily now that she didn't have to worry about being pursued. She kept her back to them as she waved her goodbye, shouting, "Congrats on the wedding by the way! Make sure to send me some pictures."

Once the girl was out of sight, Star turned her attention back to her boyfriend, asking in concern, "Marco, you okay?"

The boy let out an exhausted sigh. "I'm fine," he said dejectedly.

"You sure?" Star questioned, not looking quite convinced. "Nothing's hurting?"

"Just my pride," the boy admitted, looking sadly off into the distance, the exact direction his target was now headed.

Star gave her fiance a sympathetic look, before adding, "You want me to go after her."

The boy shook his head, slouching forward as his face hardening into an angry scowl. "Nah, there's no point. She's probably long gone by now."

"Okay well, in that case, I'm coming down to help you," Star replied.

Marco's eyebrow raised in confusion, not quite understanding what his girlfriend was implying. "Wait, what do you mean by-" he started to ask, only to be interrupted by a loud shout above, looking up to see Star diving off the building too, letting out a cheer of excitement as she free-fell through the cold, night air.

"Wait, wait, wait, Star don't, it's too cold!" The boy shouted in warning, waving his hands wildly but it was too late as Star splashed down into the bay right next to him, sending a wave of freezing cold water into his face and leaving him spluttering once more. Star surfaced a second later, water dripping from her bangs as she giggled at her Marco's startled face.

The boy let out a few deep breaths, still in shock from being pelted with the icy cold water but soon found himself smiling too, his fiance's laugh too infectious for him to resist. And pretty soon Marco was laughing too, pressing his forehead to Star's and bringing his arms around her, the two floating on the water's surface as one. "You know we're gonna be in big trouble for not catching Janna, right?" Marco reminded Star, though it was light and warm in comparison to just a few minutes ago.

"Aww, we'll get her next time," Star reassured the boy, cupping his cold cheeks in her hands, the warmth of her fingers causing Marco's whole face to tingle. "Besides, I already know where's she heading."

"Wait, you do?" Marco gasped in surprise.

Star gave her boyfriend a quick wink, saying in a flirty tone, "You're not the only one who can gather intel, y'know." Marco continued to give his partner a disbelieving look, not that he should be too surprised. Star was amazing and when she put her mind to it, there was nothing she couldn't do.

"So where's she headed?" Marco asked curiously.

"Welllll, judging by the direction she was going I would say our Scarlet Thief is heading for the train station. It's only like a block away from here and we both know Janna is known to try and skip town the first chance she gets," Star explained, while her fiance just listened in awe. "So all we gotta do is head over there and find out which train she got on."

"How do you know that?" the boy asked, raising a playful eyebrow at his bride-to-be.

Star shrugged. "Reasons," she said vaguely.

"Like?" the boy pressed, giving her a flirty look he knew she couldn't resist.

Star blushed slightly as she replied, "Let's just say I've had my eye on this place for a while now. You may be in charge of planning the wedding, but I'm in charge of the honeymoon."

The boy instantly froze, his face turning a dark shade of red that easily surpassed the color on his tie. He definitely hadn't been expecting that answer and he had to cough into his hand to clear his tight throat, looking away from the beautiful piercing blue of his girlfriend. "Oh yeah, okay, great, that's uhhh... that's great," the boy muttered nervously, Star holding back a giggle at the embarrassed blush on her Marco's cheeks.

Instead, the blond let out a loving sigh, giving her adorable fiance's small form a quick squeeze, as she squealed out, "Aw Marco, your so cute!" But she quickly added in a determined, serious tone, "But we can flirt later! Right now we got a job to do!"

"Yeah!" Marco shouted, pumping a fist into the air, too, before the two shared a quick high five. Just as their hands connected, a motorboat sped by them, sending a wave of freezing cold water washing over them. Both of the highly trained agents froze in place, their hands still touching as Marco muttered behind chattering teeth, "But first things first, let's get out of this water before one of us freezes to death!"

"Agreed," Star replied, her form shaking in perfect sync with her boyfriend's as they both began furiously swimming for shore and hopefully some much-needed warmth.

…

Janna was able to board the train out of Paris without any complications whatsoever. Mostly due to the fact that Alfonso had purchase Janna a ticket in advance, under his partner's direction, though being sure to give the conductor a fake name since Janna was a very wanted criminal at the moment. The young hacker had shown reluctant at first towards the plan, saying that even with a fake name she could still be recognized and that it would safer to just sneak onboard. But Janna had been quick to argue, saying that Al was just being paranoid and worried too much... which he absolutely did. But despite his concerns, Alfonso had gone ahead with the purchase, making sure Miss Hanna Orlandia had a ticket out of the city.

And just as Janna had predicted, nobody paid her any mind, the conductor barely batting an eye in her direction as he just lazily punched her ticket and sent her on her way. Janna, of course, making a smug comment to Alfonso which caused the boy to groan in annoyance and accept defeat... this time.

From there it had been as simple as stashing the briefcase in one of the storage cars, making sure it was buried under a pile of luggage and wouldn't be accidentally discovered by any noisy passengers, leaving Janna free to enjoy the trip.

She slowly walked through the row of cars looking for her seat, ignoring the irregular shifting beneath her feet as the train carried forth at rapid speed, already fast on its way to her destination. "Sooo that could have gone... better," Al said in her ear, trying to lighten the mood and the girl chuckled.

"Yeah, but we did get to see the power couple so I'd call that a win," she responded, ignoring the weird looks she was getting from the few passengers that went by. "And we just got away scot-free."

"I don't know Janna," Al responded nervously. "This just seemed too easy."

Easy. Yeah for him, maybe, all he had done was sit there and give out directions, Janna was the one who had been in a hot pursuit across Paris with two of the most highly-trained secret agents in the world. "Oh relax Al," Janna replied with a roll of her eyes. He could be so over-dramatic sometimes. "We're fine."

"Yeah, Al relax," came a familiar voice through the earpiece.

"Ferguson! How long have you been up?!"

"Mmm," Ferguson hummed thoughtfully. "Probably about three minutes or so."

"Well if you're up than can you do me a favor and clean the dishes, the sink is full again and it's your turn."

"Whaaaattt nooo," Ferguson whined. "Why can't you do it?"

"Because I'm busy helping Janna," Alfonso explained, sounding exasperated with the discussion already.

"Well let me help Janna and then you can do the dishes," Ferg suggested excitedly.

"No way! I'm not letting you touch my system, you don't know anything about it!" Al argued loudly.

"Aw come on how hard can it be if you do it?"

"Ferg, I said no!"

The speaker quickly filled with the sound of the two wrestling, Alfonso probably trying to push Ferguson back from his expensive and highly breakable equipment. After a few seconds of listening to the annoying grunts of them fighting, Janna pulled out her earpiece, knowing they could go on like this for a while and she was in the mood for some peace and quiet.

She reached her own reserved car, smiling softly to herself as she saw the door was already open, alerting her someone was already inside. And she had a pretty good idea who.

And the moment she stepped inside her smirk widened as her suspicions were proven correct, he was there. He sat with his legs crossed and his arms stretched out on the back of his seat trying to look as casual as possible. His hair was spiked just like she had remembered it and the familiar pink color made Janna inwardly chuckle. He wore a bright red shirt with a star on the front and a long black leather jacket, black gloves with the fingers torn off, and black jeans. His shoes were his typical orange boots. In short, Tom Lucitor looked as great as ever.

He gave her a devilish grin, saying in a smooth tone, "Thought you'd show up, took you long enough, though."

Janna put a hand to her hip and said in the teasing tone she reserved only for her greatest rival, "Aw, Pinkie what a surprise."

The boy's calm demeanor shattered as he growled at the hated nickname. "I told you my hair is salmon!"

"Mmm yeah I'm still gonna call you Pinkie," Janna replied with a shrug, taking the seat across from him.

Tom groaned, crossing his arms in a pouting gesture. "Yep your still as intolerable as ever," he grumbled, rolling his eyes.

"And your still as angry as ever," the girl replied, leaning back in her seat, crossing her legs and resting her hands behind her head. "So what brings you to Paris, the City of Love, don't tell me you've gone all sappy and turned into a romantic."

"You know me better than that, Jan," Tom replied, flashing her a cocky grin. He leaned forward a bit, before saying in a knowing tone, "And I think you already know why I'm here."

Janna smiled. "Yes, but I wanted to hear you say it."

Tom's gaze narrowed slightly before he began in a threatening tone, "I want you-"

"You want me?" Janna interrupted with a mock look of surprise. "Well looks like you are turning into a romantic."

Tom growled angrily under his breath as he spat out through clenched teeth, "I want you to give me the statue."

"What statue?" Janna asked, feigning ignorance.

Tom just rolled his eyes before snapping, "The Golden Dancer! The one you stole from the museum."

"What makes you think I stole anything?" Janna asked, her cryptic tone never ceasing and the smile on her face told Tom that she was very much enjoying herself, much to his annoyance. "Can't a girl visit Paris without having some ulterior motive?"

"Yes, but you're not most girls," Tom stated simply, and for the first time since she had gotten there Janna's cheeks got the slightest tinge of pink.

"Aww, you flatter me, Tom," Janna cooed coyly, winking at him.

"That wasn't a compliment," Tom stated, trying to hide the joy he felt at making her blush. She was so cute when she was blushing, it almost made him forgive how aggravating she could be.

"Yes, it was," Janna said calling his bluff, and Tom felt his cheeks heat up again against his will, growling to try and hide his embarrassment.

Almost. He almost forgave her. But something told him, she wanted it this way, which was why being around her was so frustrating. She always knew just what to say to set him off. "Look are you gonna give me the statue or do I have to make you," he threatened, wanting to just get to the point and get this whole confrontation over with before he was reminded anymore how much he had missed her. His hand slowly moved to his pocket, making sure his movements were subtle enough she didn't pick up on them.

"Hmmm," she hummed, tapping a finger to her chin, clearly thinking it over or at least pretending to. "Yeah no, I don't think so. I stole it fair and square. You want it so bad you should have stolen it yourself." Tom smirked. "Why would I do that, when I got you?" He leaned forward, his malicious grin widening with every word, looking proud of himself for conning the elusive thief. "I followed you all the way, here, y'know. And I didn't even have to try to find you, you made your presence well known. If I didn't know any better I'd say you were slipping Janna." His hand now grasped the electric stun baton from within the confines of his pocket, ready to draw it out and use it to knock his annoying rival out cold. But then Janna did something unexpected, she leaned in closer to him, freezing the boy in place as his heart began hammering in his chest. Soon their faces were just inches apart, Tom looking deep into Janna's brown gaze, a soft, almost sincere look on her face and he wondered if she was actually opening up to him for once. Her fingers began tracing lines on his shirt as she softly whispered, "Or maybe I wanted you to find me."

Tom tried not to shudder as her warm breath tickled his skin. Her lips were so close now, challenging him, teasing him to move in, but no matter how much he wanted to (oh man did he want to) he knew better than to let his guard down around her. "Wh-Why would you do that?" He asked, trying to hide the squeak in his voice.

And then Janna moved in even closer until her lips were almost touching his as she said in the most honest and sincere tone he had ever heard come from her lips, "Cause I missed you, Tom."

The boy gulped but found himself actually moving in for the kiss, all ulterior motives, all scheme, all logic thrown out the window as he attempted to capture that which he had never yet been able to steal: Janna's affection.

But just before their lips brushed, Tom felt a stinging sensation in his side, which then turned into a powerful burning. He let out a yelp of pain as he looked down, only to see Janna had snatched the baton from his pocket and had it pressed into his side, electrocuting him.

"Sorry, Pinkie," he heard Janna say to him in an apologetic tone, but it was distant and fuzzy as his brain began to shut down. "But you know the first rule of dealing with a thief. Never let them get too close."

Tom let out one last growl of annoyance before he lost consciousness, falling back against his seat, asleep.

Janna pulled the device away the second she saw the boy's eyes close and quickly pocketed the device. It was very nicely made, she might have some use for it in the future. For a few seconds, she just stared at his sleeping face, looking so cute and peaceful you couldn't even tell that beneath lie a hotheaded, temperamental thief. He was too much fun to tease when awake, but asleep he was irresistible. Which was why she couldn't help but lean over and place a gentle kiss on his cheek, letting her armor crack for a second as she whispered to his sleeping form, "See you around, Tom."

She stood, stepping back out into the hallway, giving him one last longing look over her shoulder before closing the door to the train car sealing the sleeping teen inside.

Once she had put some distance between her and her unconscious rival, she slipped her earpiece back on, saying smoothly, "Hey Al, what'd I miss?"

"Janna?!" Came the worried, expected shriek of her friend. It was clear he had been panicking for a while now. "What happened? I lost contact with you. Did something go wrong?"

"Nah, not really," the girl lied instantly. "Must have just had a bad signal there for a while."

"Well that's a relief," Alfonso said with a sigh. "For a minute there I was afraid you ran into that hot-headed rival of yours. That would have been a total disaster."

"Wellllll, actually," the girl said in a purposely overly hesitant way.

Alfonso let out a long sigh. "Spoke too soon," he muttered under his breath.

...

The train pulled into the station an hour later, a crowd of passengers emerging from the train in a hurry, eager to stretch their legs after the long trip. And hiding in plain sight, the thief in red whistled as she strode along, an almost skip in her step as she carried the large briefcase loosely at her side. She made her way to the dock, where a large boat waited for her, giving the captain a wink as she boarded, letting him know it was her and he nodded to tell her he understood. He said something over to one of the crew who ran off to inform them now they were good to go. Not even a minute later the ship was already plowing it's way out of the harbor and heading toward open ocean.

The captain went over to greet her, saying pleasantly enough, "Miss Ordonia, glad to see you made it." His gaze slowly lowered to the briefcase, eying it greedily for a second. "And by the looks of it, your heist was a success."

"Captain Carrots, a pleasure as always," Janna said with a smile. "I trust my colleague already paid you in full."

"Aye yes, your friend already sent us the cash."

"And did he give you my instructions?"

The captain nodded. "Aye, he did."

"Good, then since you know our destination, I'll leave the rest to you," Janna said, going to walk around him but he stepped into her way, blocking her path off.

"Why don't you let me take that off your hands," the captain offered slowly reaching down to grab the briefcase, Janna hearing the greed and desperation in his voice. "Me and my crew will make sure it reaches its buyer safely."

Janna quickly bat his hand away and positioned her body so the briefcase was no longer in his line of sight, wagging a scolding finger at him while clicking her tongue in disappointment. "Nice try, Captain, but I wasn't born yesterday," she said with a smirk, the captain gritting his teeth at her. "And I was given strict instructions by my employer to deliver the statue myself and to make sure I personally handed it over to him. But if you'd like I'd be happy to call and let him know-" Janna made a show of reaching into her pocket and pulling out her phone.

"No!" The captain shouted, putting a hand up to try and stop her. Janna gave him a knowing smile as he cleared his throat, continuing much softer, "No that won't be necessary." He plastered on a forced smile that was just priceless to the young thief who was enjoying every second of this, though she made sure not to let it show... not too much at least.

"Good," Janna said, slipping the phone back in her pocket, the superior grin never leaving her face. "Then I'll leave you to your job and you can leave me to mine."

The young thief then pushed her way past the man, leaving the fuming captain alone to rage as she found a seat near the back of the boat, her back literally against the rail that prevented her from falling into the crystal clear waters below her. The second she sat down she felt a lurch as the boat propelled forward at an even faster speed now that they had reached deeper waters, quickly on it's way to Janna's next destination. The girl set the package down at her side, before letting out a relaxed sigh, leaning back in her seat, feeling the cool breeze of the ocean washing over her as she stared out at the picturesque ocean waves for a second.

"You enjoyed that, didn't you?" Alfonso said in her ear.

"What messing with the captain, of course, I did?" The girl admitted, no shame in her tone. "He was trying to con me, so I just let him know who he was dealing with."

"You know, you wouldn't have to do that if you let me hire a law-abiding citizen instead of a dirty, crooked conman."

"Wheres the fun in that? Besides haven't you ever heard the phrase 'honor among thieves'."

"Yes, but the more time I spend with you the more convinced I am that it's a bunch of nonsense," Al deadpanned.

Janna chuckled at that, before saying, "I'll take that as a compliment."

"It wasn't."

"I know."

Alfonso sighed and she heard the distinct sound of the young genius banging his head against his desk (it wasn't the first time one of their conversations had ended that way and the thief was slightly curious if there was an indent in his desk from how many times he had done it). Janna decided to show a little mercy for her friend and change the subject, saying, "Oh relax, Al. Look on the bright side, we got the painting with minimal damage, got to see our favorite power couple, and even managed to get away from Tom unscathed. Sounds like a pretty successful mission to me."

"Yeah," Alfonso agreed halfheartedly. "Guess there is that. Let's just hope we threw that hothead off our track for a while."

Janna smiled thoughtfully to herself, bringing up the mental image of the handsome thief into her mind. "I don't know, something tells me we'll be seeing him again very soon," she replied, unable to resist adding a knowing edge to her tone that the young hacker picked up on instantly.

"Janna, what did you do?" He asked in exasperation, hoping she hadn't done what he feared she had done. Knowing her, it was entirely likely.

Janna didn't reply, just smiling smugly to herself as she stared across the waves at the fading sunset on the horizon, wondering what the next day would bring her, while her head spun with the image of gorgeous red eyes.

…

Tom was furious the moment he had woken up with a splitting headache and a dry mouth, feeling a bizarre mixture of regret, disappointment, and rage. But mostly rage. And all of it was directed at one soul individual. Stupid Janna! He couldn't believe he had actually fallen for such an obvious trick and he silently cursed himself for actually letting her get too close.

And now here he was, storming through the nearly empty train with a sour scowl on his face. He ignored the few passengers remaining, wanting to just leave without any further complications. Not that he was worried about getting caught since he had swiped a ticket out of some unfortunate soul's pocket when he snuck onboard, he just didn't want to be bothered until he got the chance to cool down. He wasn't sure where he was at this point since he had no clue how much time had passed while he was unconscious, for all he knew he could be in another country, for crying out loud!

Stupid Janna! This was all her fault. If she hadn't tried to-

Tom growled as his cheeks lit up with a blush, willing them back to their normal hue. How could he have been so stupid! He should have known better than to try and actually do that with her. Of course, it was a trick, ugh, how could he be such a moron?!

Suddenly, Tom stopped in his tracks as he spotted a pair up ahead, his heart leaping into his throat as he recognized the well-dressed couple, the boy holding a picture out toward the train conductor while his blond partner practically lay up against him as she stared over his shoulder, these two clearly having no sense of personal space with each other.

Great, Star and Marco were here, as if he didn't have enough to deal with, now he had the two best agents in Acme on his tail and he doubted they'd be all that happy to see him once again. Tom didn't waste any time as he quickly ducked into the empty train car beside him, knowing they were sure to recognize him the moment they spotted him his few run-ins with them memorable enough for him to leave a lasting impression and make him weary from encountering them again. He left the door open only a crack as he listened to the two's conversation while cursing whatever force had decided to give him this string of bad luck.

"Please look closely, sir. Are you certain you haven't seen her, it's very important," Marco asked the conductor, his voice friendly but professional as he pressed the man for more info.

"Hmmm, now that I'm looking at it, I do think I've seen her before, pretty sure she was sharing a car with a young man, I'll go check the books, see if I can find out which car it was," the conductor said, Tom listening as a pair of footsteps faded off into the distance.

Perfect, just perfect, Tom silently groaned. Now those two knew about him! Hopefully, they wouldn't put two and two together-

"Sooo Janna was with a young man, huh? Are you thinking who I'm thinking?" Star said in a knowing tone and Tom winced. Never mind.

"What, Tom?" Marco asked, sounding like he was deep in contemplation. "It could be, but that's a pretty big conclusion to draw Star."

Star scoffed loudly, Tom hearing a light smack (probably the girl lightly tapping her partner's shoulder). "Come on, Marco. It makes total sense. Think about it, those two are always hanging around each other..." Well, she wasn't entirely wrong. "... and you know they can barely keep their eyes off each other." Again, it was true, just not for the reason the blond agent seemed to be drawing.

"So what you think their partners?"

"Well that and also secretly dating," Star added, sounding so proud of herself for figuring it out.

Tom nearly fainted right there, his cheeks filling with so much blood he nearly passed out from blood loss in the rest of his limbs. How could they seriously think he would have any feelings toward his annoying rival other than disgust. But his mind betrayed him, momentarily flashing back to Janna's form slowly moving in for what seemed to be a loving kiss and he vigorously shook his head to relieve himself from the memory, willing down his now racing pulse.

"Dating?" Marco said skeptically. "I mean I guess it's possible..."

"Of course it is!" Star said confidently. "Those two are crazy about each other." She paused before adding in a sappy, loving coo, "Almost as crazy as I am for you."

"Well I don't think anybody could be more in love than I am with you, Star," Marco replied in an equally flirty tone. Tom tried not to gag at the young couple's overly affectionate ways. Could these two be any cheesier?

"Aww Marco, you are too sweet!" Star squealed. She sounded more like a lovesick teenager than a highly trained agent.

The boy let out a long, disheartened sigh as he muttered, "But y'know, I still can't believe I fell for her tricks again!"

Marco face-palmed, flushing in embarrassment as the previous events of the night came back to him, looping through his head and making him feel more and more ridiculous with every cycle. "Why is Janna always one step ahead of us! Every time I think about what happened, I just feel like an idiot." He buried his head in his hands with an audible groan, while out of sight of the two Tom was nodding in agreement and annoyance. He could totally relate.

Star gave her boyfriend a sympathetic look, seeing just how badly he needed cheering up. Luckily, the blond knew just what to do to help. She gave Marco a flirty grin, grabbing onto his tie and lightly pulling him towards her, causing the boy to let out a startled squeak, their faces now mere inches from touching. "Well, I think I know a way to get your mind off of that," she whispered coyly, causing a shudder to jump up Marco's spine.

"Starrr," Marco muttered in embarrassment, his eyes jumping around the empty train car, making sure they were, in fact, alone. "This isn't a good time, we're on a mission, remember? What if someone sees us?"

But Star didn't seem to be giving up, simply replying seductively, "Let em look. I've been waiting to kiss my future husband all day and I'm not waiting any longer." With that, Star moved in for the kill, her fiance's lips about to be captured and claimed by her once more.

Meanwhile, the disgusted Tom was busy debating on either staying quiet or slamming the door open and turning himself in (both of which had some major cons) when the voice of the conductor suddenly cut into the moment, much to Tom's relief, saying pleasantly to the two agents, "Okay I think I found it."

Tom could hear a small shout from the two, followed by noisy shuffling as they obviously pulled apart from each other. The thief could hear a loud cough from Marco (probably trying to clear his tight throat) as he said in a forced, formal tone, "Uhh, good. T-That's excellent news, sir."

There was a pause before the conductor asked, "Am I interrupting something?"

"No!" the young couple shouted much to quickly and Tom couldn't help but smirk from his hiding spot. Geez, why were they acting all embarrassed? Weren't they about to be married or whatever? "Anyways, what'd you find out?" Marco asked, clearly trying to change the subject.

"Well according to the record, someone with your description purchased a ticket in advance under the name of Hanna Orlandia," the conductor explained.

Star scoffed loudly, saying in a disappointed tone, "Really, that's the name she went with? Come on, Janna you're more clever than that."

"Star, don't compliment our criminal," Marco scolded.

"I'm just saying, that's kinda a lazy fake name," Star said, defensively.

"Oh yeah, and what would your fake name have been?" Marco asked his girlfriend in a playful tone.

"I don't know maybe something cool like Carmen or something."

"Ummmm, did you want me to go on or-" the conductor asked hesitantly.

"Oh yeah, right," Marco said in realization. "Continue."

"Well, she was staying in train car 15 along with a young man with pink hair." Tom had to suppress the growl he felt rising in his throat. It was salmon, not pink? Why did nobody ever get that?!

"Ah hah!" Star exclaimed in victory. "Told you it was Tom!"

"Yeah, guess you were right. I mean, i don't really know too many guys with pink hair," Marco replied in agreement. Salmon!

"Can you take us to their car? Maybe they left behind a clue or something," Star asked, the conductor immediately complying, saying, "Right this way."

Tom listened intensely as the sound of footsteps retreated deeper into the train, fading into the distance, along with Star's long rant to her boyfriend about how he and Janna were clearly dating and working together (which he did his best to ignore). He waited until they were completely out of earshot before pulling the door to the train car open, doing a quick check left and right before smirking and making his way over to the exit.

Once he was outside on the narrow streets of some unknown city, he picked a random direction and started walking, needing to put as much distance between himself and the two agents as he could. That had been a close one, much closer than Tom liked, but at least he hadn't had to deal with Star and Marco directly. He still had bruises from their last encounter, those two packing a big punch despite their appearance... especially when working as a team. No, as annoying and inconvenient as it had been, it could still have turned out much worse for him.

Sure they knew he had been there, but they wouldn't find anything. That much he was sure of since he had made sure to leave nothing behind that could be used to track him, despite the blinding rage he had felt after-

Tom let out a low growl as the memory of earlier entered his mind, anger filling his chest once again. Right, he had almost forgotten about stupid Janna and her stupid tricks. Why had he even followed her there in the first place? Hadn't he learned by now to steer clear of Janna and her obnoxious, charming ways? All she ever did was make trouble for him. What had he been thinking?

The boy roughly shoved his hands into his jacket pockets, trying to ignore the obvious answer that kept popping into his mind, refusing to admit just how badly he had wanted to see her again. He paused though, as his fingers brushed up against something. Tom came to an immediate stop as he dug around in his pocket, his fingers tightening around what felt like some sort of ticket or something before pulling out a small slip of paper. Tom stared at it stunned for a moment, knowing instantly who it was from. There was only one person who could have slipped this into his pocket without him knowing, presumably when he was unconscious. Finally, after a few more seconds, he slowly unfolded the note, confusion pinching his eyebrows as he read the soft, delicate handwriting, his heart thumping once against his will. Can't wait for our next date. See you in Venice, Pinkie. -Love, the Scarlet Thief

For a few moments, all Tom could do was read and re-read the note over and over again, his cheeks pooling with more and more blood every time his eyes crossed the words 'Pinkie' or 'Love'. Finally, after several minutes of contemplation, Tom silently folded the note back up, slipping it back into his pocket.

He just stood there for another moment, letting the words sink in, his gaze slowly turning to the rising sun over on the horizon, its bright colors seeming to be a perfect representation of his heart right now. Glowing.

And then Tom did something he almost never did, he let all his barriers drop, allowing himself a long, warm smile. But this was not just any smile, this was the widest, goofiest, most lovestruck smile that had ever crossed his features, one only those who were hopelessly and passionately in love could conceive. And despite how annoying and obnoxious and difficult Janna Ordonia the Scarlet Thief could be... Tom would be lying if he said he wasn't excited to know he would be seeing her again very soon.

Hope you enjoyed! Jantom is impossible for me to resist and I had to put in my daily dose of Starco or it just wouldn't feel right to me. So I might continue this someday in the future but for now I'm keeping it as a one-shot. I just don't have enough time at the moment to make more (plus I don't really have any more ideas for heists or whatever) but if you want you are welcome to send me ideas for it in case I ever do continue. Like I said no promises.

Anyways that'll do it for me, hope you have a great week and stay safe and healthy! Stay awesome, Stardom! Especially all you Jantom shippers out there ;)

#Star vs #Star vs AU #My Writing #Where in the World is Janna Ordonia #Carmen Sandiego AU #Master Thief Jan AU #Janna Ordonia #Jantom #Starco

[searchingwardrobes]

It’s been awhile since I’ve posted a book review on my blog. That’s because I have been spending a lot of time posting them to my professional website. You can find that here along with my TBR list, Currently Reading list, and lists of my favorite books in different genres. ( @xhookswenchx​  I think you’ll like something on my TBR list 😉) Today’s review isn’t so much a review as a trip down my reading memory lane. A trip that circles back around to discovering a new favorite writer.

Tagging: @snowbellewells​​​ @reynoldsreads​​​ @whimsicallyenchantedrose​​​ @ekr032-blog-blog​​​ @superchocovian​​​ @lfh1226-linda​​​ @nikkiemms​​​ @thislassishooked​​​ @branlovestowrite​​​ @tiganasummertree​​​ @xhookswenchx​

When I was a teenager and a baby Christian, I first discovered Christian Romance when I read the classic Love Comes Softly by Janette Oke. I went on to devour that entire series along with everything else Oke wrote. Not only did it satisfy my book-obsessed tendencies in a healthy way, it also became a way for my mom and I to bond. We read the The Love Comes Softly series together over the course of a summer, discussing them as we went. She and I went to the local Christian bookstore together to purchase more books by Oke and others. The common thread? All of them were westerns.

I’m not sure if it’s just that my mom and I loved the western setting or if that was the genre most Christian romances were at that time. The two of us did like to watch western shows together - Little House on the Prairie, Young Riders, Dr Quinn: Medicine Woman - but it also seemed like most of the books on the shelves were westerns. We read books about girls who went west on the orphan train, young women who were mail order brides, and women who fell in love with mounties in the Canadian west (yep, those).

To be honest, by the time college rolled around, I was burned out on Christian westerns and stopped reading them. I also went through my “intellectual phase.” I was an English major, thank you very much, and my tastes were meaningful. I roll my eyes at myself now, realizing that I had lost the point of reading - the love of it. My mom gave me Redeeming Love for Christmas my junior year of college, and it sat on my bookshelf for three years or so before I cracked it open. (Silly me!) Like most people, I was blown away by Francine River’s masterpiece, but the fact that it was set in the west didn’t change my mind about western books in general.

Fast forward many years and three kids later. I was on vacation with my extended family, and as usual my Mom, my sister, and I had all brought books with us. My sister’s was Full Steam Ahead by Karen Witemeyer. You know that saying “don’t judge a book by its cover?” Well, I did, okay. It reminded me of those westerns I read as a teenager, and I kind of rolled my eyes at my sister.

“I know it looks cheesy,” she explained hurriedly, “but it’s really good! I’ve read a lot of books by that author, and she’s great.”

A week later, I was shopping at this deep discount store here in my hometown. It’s one of those places where you never know what you’ll find - a Dyson vacuum for a hundred bucks, Christmas Peeps in July for fifty cents, or rain boots for five dollars. One thing they always have is books - especially Christian books. Every time a local Christian bookstore closes, I swear this store gets their inventory. As you can probably imagine, this store’s book section is my weakness.

What do you think I saw sitting right there on the shelf for only $2.99? A Karen Witemeyer book - The Short Straw Bride to be exact. I picked it up and remembered what my sister had said. For only $2.99, it was worth a try, even though the cover still wasn’t my taste.

I devoured it! Couldn’t put it down! I was totally sucked into the lives of the Archer brothers and their ranch. I loved it so much I took a picture of the book and raved about it on Facebook. I swallowed my pride and borrowed Full Steam Ahead from my sister. I was thrilled to discover that there was either a book or novella on every single one of the Archer brothers. The library had most of Witemeyer’s books, and soon I had read everything she had written. At this point, I am a bonafide fan. There isn’t anything she’s put out that I haven’t read, and currently my Kindle wish list includes her next book that hasn’t come out yet : At Love’s Command.

It’s interesting how things have come full circle. As a baby Christian, Oke’s books were like water in the desert. Now Witemeyer similarly quenches the storytelling thirst of this SAHM mom/amateur writer.

And I guess I’m always a sucker for a western!

#melanie reads #book review #westerns #christian westerns #karen witemeyer #favorite authors

[raquellmurillo]

After the heist I want Raquel to pack her bag and get some money as Lisbon and leave Sergio ...She should stay with her family in some paradise.Monica will also join her ... They both should focus on raising their children and casual dating with guys..And sometimes Rio , Helsinki uncle will visit them .

That’s actually such a cool idea! I love Sergio and Raquel, don’t get me wrong, but above all, I love consistency lol 

Why not? What if Raquel tells him that after her talk with Alicia, she has realised that because of her love for him, she has neglected her daughter and ruined her future. Because lets face it, if Raquel is on the run, her daughter is too. 

And, I know the show never really mentions this... but Sergio is like... a criminal. I know he’s meant to be the ‘good guy’ and all, but he also goes around hiring, what, the Serbian mafia? (Who are those people???) Has a lot of money, buys a shit ton of stuff on the dark web... If the police can’t track him, the mafia’s running that shit-show can. His wealth isn’t built on an empire of people to protect him.... what is one kid with a billions of euros with no protection, living as an outcast to a criminal organisation looking for easy money? Doesn’t that just sound like a target??? It’s easier to take one person down, than a well built up ‘empire’ of people lmao - okay, if he hid away etc. but not go around making purchases like them army trucks... because as soon as he starts his heist, the people who he purchases those things from are gonna tie the two ends together... If Alicia can track him, what is finding him to an organisation with more hackers than he has??? 

Back to the point, Raquel isn’t the ‘weakest link’, both her and her daughter are ‘weak points’. If Sergio ever pisses off any of the probs very dangerous people he is working with... the main targets are gonna be the people closest to him. Back in the day when he was a petty and poor criminal, well, didn’t really matter. Now, however, things have changed.

Raquel has given her life up to be on the run not only from the police, but like, a large proportion of the criminal world. She is never going to be safe, nor is her daughter. By association she has condemned her family to, well, to some probably not fun situations in the future.

But like.... ignoring all of that.

I totally get you; love is love, I do ship them, but who said their love story had to be conventional; say she came to visit him at the end of s2, told him that she would meet up with him here and there, she would come to live with him, but in 10 years time or so, when her daughter is grown up enough to take care of herself and her decisions won’t impact her. That money might’ve bought Sergio freedom, but the moment Raquel leaves her life for it, its gonna cause her problems, ones which money won’t be able to fix. She’ll never be able to let her daughter go to school without fearing that she might say something, be recognised. She’ll never be able to have the freedom Raquel had when she was young. Her childhood might be carefree playing on the beach, but purely through association she’ll always be on the run from the police, interpol, the other criminals out there who feel like getting a few billions for, basically free, having to take down a person, not an empire. I get financial security, like totally. But its not exactly too great if the price you’re paying for it is your personal security.

And look how much more fun s3&4 would’ve been if Raquel was still part of the police... darn that would’ve been so amazing her in terms of character development, as she’d really have to decide whose side she was on. (obvs with a different plot) - acting as a double agent type thing, to alongside Sergio, make sure no one was hurt etc. 

... she is safer not being with Sergio. If Sergio truly loved her, he wouldn’t be with her. I know, I know, that’s so controversial of me to say, but I’ve seen it been done in masterpiece style on screen. I had never seen a better ship been written even though I didn’t get a single kiss! Both of the characters acknowledged they loved each other but were in an environment in which them being together would end in defo at least one of their deaths. Their love for each other was greater than any sort of sexual desire; keeping one another safe was a priority, even if it required sacrificing (very unfortunately for the audience) the desire part. It can be done. 

Love can be either selfish or selfless; I think, from the way things have been written, Sergio is more Andres’ brother than one could’ve imagined. He loves her, but not enough to resist his temptation, to ruin her, destroy her life, risk her life and her families. It sounds hella dark, but when you think about it, it sorta is. Because it is wrapped up neatly and nicely and Sergio is all cute... because she loves him and goes after him, blindly. Because however much Alicia’s dialogue about Raquel’s taste of men was written to obvs make the audience disagree with her about Sergio’s case..... darn nobody is perfect, but come on. Denver lost his father in the last heist, Sergio’s brother was shot (ik he was dying, doesn’t that make it worse for Sergio tho? The last months with his brother in paradise, lost?) but there’s one hella completely different reaction. And then we have the scene in which Raquel tells him he is just trying to avenge Berlin; does vengeance have a higher value than love? Is the whole Berlin thing not enough for him to be like, “actually, putting people that I love at life threatening risk, really isn’t a great idea”...??? Rio will eventually be arrested, and tough luck, ya know. Why put the rest of his team’s life at risk? idkkkkk His true love for Raquel will be shown in lcdp7 when he plans a heist to avenge her? WHy for the love of god is she in the bank? 

Damn right, Raquel should pack her bags up and finally find a man who is not so willing to harm her. No one said love or the character had to be perfect; I’m a true believer that love requires sacrifices, and Raquel has sacrificed a lot for him... you’d think he’d have the decency to at least not go ahead with the heist ya know. Sergio might be a bit socially awkward, but he’s not fucking dumb. I hate how people seem to think that because he hasn’t had much experience in relationships, he won’t know what he is doing... firstly, when does anyone have any sort of idea of what they’re doing in a new relationship with a new person? It’s all new, and it’s always a learning process ya know. Secondly, Sergio has enough brain cells to lecture Andres about getting married to someone knowing he has very little time... he knows enough to acknowledge that what his brother is doing, isn’t exactly too fair on his wife - which is fair enough; ya know, ‘best three years of her life’ and then she drinks herself to death from the heartache in the year following that? Very hard situation, tbh. Andres is being fucking selfish, but darn, turns out there is something in these genetics...

disclaimer: I still love Serquel, but damn I love my analysis, (I am being very picky today lmao) and if they keep this writing up, they’re gonna keep pushing me to make such unconventional findings. Never before today did I think I’d come to a conclusion that Andres and Sergio are similar in terms of ‘love’... but darn, under the cute dialogues and all the rather radical decisions of the screenwriters point towards very dark threads. 

Saying that, if you’re gonna write something like that, have the balls to actually explore it. Don’t make Raquel the ‘love interest’; consequently follow the choices through and make Sergio the nut job who put her back into the bank. Maybe even write it as him idealising the idea of his love for her... maybe the trap in their relationship is as Alicia said, Raquel idealising these guys, but Sergio also idealising her. 

#darn this took too long to write #someone take away my wineee lmao #someone tell me they get what im trying to say #the tea #asks #sorry anon if i dissapoint

[thedogsled]

You seem to be having a not a great day today, so here's a light-hearted ask. I'm having a good day, curled up in pjs with cuddly pets watching Leverage with my sister. Leverage is one of my favorite shows, because it's smart and fun and has great characters that grow over the seasons. Besides Supernatural, what's a show you really enjoy and why?

Thank you so much for the ask! I’m sorry I didn’t reply to it sooner, I’ve come down with a head cold and this is really the first day in several I’ve been able to compose more than a tweet about how much it sucks (swallowing = a knife jammed right into my inner ear, it’s super fun). But I did want to answer your question so I’ve been musing on it since your ask came in.

If it was just “what’s your favorite show right now” it’d be an easy answer: The Boys. The Boys, back to front, front to back, upside down and inside out. The first season was fantastic, and it felt like it woke me up to being excited about TV again after my interest in The Walking Dead waned mid-season. Everything new has seemed very plastic recently, and even The Mandalorian, which is super cool, is kind of like the Cartoon Network dub of Dragonball Z, so Disneyfied in its bloodlessness that although I’m enjoying it it feels even more synthetic as a result. The Boys was the opposite of that, and also just whoever invented Karl Urban, period, just deserves a nobel prize for that masterpiece. He pronounces twat wrong (okay okay it’s a dialect thing) but you can’t have everything =D

So instead (and because it’s cheating that I can pimp The Boys and wax lyrical about loves of old) I interpret your question as sort of like “Which show is your comfort food?” Which show do I go back to when I’m feeling like TV needs to give me a cuddle. I had a good think about it, because there’s a few…

(aside: I shouldn’t have put that gif in before I started writing. ahem.)

There’s been a few over the years, for sure. As a thirteen year old I used to watch and rewatch Buffy episodes, mostly season 2 (baby Spike!). At eighteen, it was old VHS of Deep Space Nine, my favorite ep was “Wrongs Darker Than Death or Night” which I watched repeatedly and think about constantly even today. 

But the show I keep coming back to is due South.

This post is a long post, it also deals with discourse (because my relationship to entertainment is so often mired in it, so please don’t proceed if you’re rather avoid it) and this is where it begins:

Okay, so fun fact: I watched due South the first time it aired with my parents (I was about 9) and then when it was on TV again as a repeat, I recorded it on VHS by RUSHING home every single day from school with nothing else on my mind but sitting on the floor two feet from the telly to watch it. Quantum Leap was on right after, and I had an entire different set of VHS tapes to record that on, so had to quickly switch between them. I’d stop recording at every break so that I could get more episodes on a tape. It’s not unsurprising to me now that both shows vibed with me as a young person who hadn’t yet really accepted that she was queer; due South’s main character is coded as Other both to the Americans whom he lives with, and his fellow Canadians, while Quantum Leap explores a straight white man jumping into the lives of Others, and living through them some of the hardest moments in their lives. Even though both keep it exceedingly, textually hetero, one has two men riding off into the snowy sunset together (leaving behind a straight lover to do so) and the other features a love between two men that in the original framing of the finale would have seen God/fate reconnecting the two of them even though one was lost in time, and the partner’s wife begging him to go.)

Of course young me didn’t give a shit about that, or didn’t realize that’s what she cared about. Young me loved the buddy-cop partnership of both shows. Young me liked the half-wolf, and the episodes where they ride horses, and honestly just waiting with bated breath to find out where Sam would jump to this time. “Oh boy!” Retrospectively, these shows (especially QL) are a lot more oh boy in a yikes context now than they used to be, but it’s good that shows age into yikes territory because it means that society is steadily advancing. Particularly, pointing out that these shows both feature white straight guys like…welcome to the nineties.

I was introduced to queer coding in part by watching due South. The show is laden with it. With writers, actors, and ultimately an executive producer who was all three, it makes you wonder if they would have gone there if they could; certainly the ending reads that way. They couldn’t, of course, because it was the nineties (and it was CBS that revived it after enormous international fan demand). Still, there was just nothing else analogous to what we have now that was going there on TV at the time. If you were queer (or discovering your queerness) then watching the show meant everything, as it did to me. So I snuggle up on the couch often these days and go back to that, because it gave me such joy, and because I was left with the opportunity to decide for myself how deep the relationship was. There was no promise of anything, because the context at the time was of course you can’t go there, nobody can go there. Queerbaiting was a word that simply hadn’t been breathed. There was no intent, no companies behind the curtain pulling strings going “Yes, make it more gay, we want those queer dollars”, just invested people slipping what they could past the studio censors.

Like this:

Sigh. A less enlightened time. =P (Incidentally fun meta here but this was after a conversation where Ray suggested that communication in a relationship should be intuitive, like breathing.)

So I guess in part I escape back there because none of that representation was ever as loaded as it is today. It doesn’t require me to judge it, or weigh it against the harm it does - because the politics of the time meant I thought it was doing good (retrospectively, and only through the lens of someone who had nothing to lose). It seemed to scream out into an unyielding universe to force it to move. It did a fraction of that, because of course it did. It was the nineties. It stole indigenous narratives and romanticized colonialism just as much as it beat the drum of environmentalism and kicked at the doors of corporate greed and racism. Old shows are inherently problematic. Today’s shows are too. Being able to examine them doesn’t mean not loving them, but it lets you say “Okay, so what do I expect from the things I watch today? What do I expect from the things I watch in five years time?”

All that aside, the show is just damn good. It’s watchable and rewatchable. It struggles to age because it was already so out of pace with the age it was made in–despite its flaws in representation, it was better than other shows at the time that demonized, tokenized, or outright killed minorities to push white narratives on their own shows (Kendra being murdered on Buffy, for example). It’s standalone enough that you can go back and watch any episode you like because overarching story arcs were way less of a staple as they are today.  It’s witty, fast paced, full of action and moral dilemma, do gooding and the consequences of it. Although still severely unbalanced, and very, very white, it did still have indigenous actors playing indigenous characters, and minorities portrayed in stories about them. There’s a dog. There’s classic cars. And it’s all put to the soundtrack of Canadian bands and singers. 

tl;dr ahead for rambling about subtext and being a disaster queer, but please scroll past for more gifs.

Queer me needed this show, in a world where I’d been taught to look and see myself in straight white male protagonists, it felt like A Lot to see all this on screen. It wasn’t, but it was all I got when I was growing up. I envy the good fortune of kids who can see themselves on screen these days while they try and figure themselves out (and hopefully more so in the future) with far less of having to negotiate through the confusion of looking at it through confusing fractals of different lenses and instead just see someone who looks like them showing them that their POV is normal, heroic and wonderful. Those lenses fucked me up big time. Like I’m not even sure right now what flavor of queer I am. I cling to bi like a lifeline of sense in my life, but it is complicated because I overwhelmingly desire the company of women way way more. But also I was was taught to look through the lens of a white dude in order to see myself universally, taught to be both desirous of the female body and humiliated by it, ashamed by sex, taught men were awful, and taught that I was supposed to marry one anyway. I look at my sexuality/romanticism like it’s a meta puzzle that I haven’t figured out yet, wondering how to put it on paper, how to break apart the different influences I experienced as a youngling and as an adult to try and negotiate if I’m misreading my own impulses. How I was brought up, who I’ve known, the relationships I’ve experienced and seen in real life and on TV. I’m 34 and I’m still no more certain. Subtext is both my friend and my enemy. I hate it, and I owe everything to it.

So when I need a rest from giving a shit about any of that noise, I go back to my comfort food. I go right back to subtext, which gave me the tools I needed to desire romance that wasn’t heterosexual, that somehow was more intimate because it relied on longing stares and never stepping foot out of the closet, that was just someone liking another person without any expectation of sex just because they have opposing genitals, and their colleagues hassle them a lot. There’s nothing wrong with the sex, I write a lot of consommation of the feelings that I see bubbling under the surface. I have even grown to appreciate het romance when it’s done in a way that doesn’t reduce the woman to a love interest–I was thrilled when Simon Baker’s Patrick Jane got together with Teresa Lisbon in The Mentalist. Their relationship was filled with subtext too. Subtext isn’t a queer thing, it has a role in all well written romance. Hell, it has a role in terriblebad tropey misogynistic romance, too. And just you know basically all storytelling (and more). 

Queer romance existing only in the subtext, though? It’s heartbreaking explicitly because it feels like a story that isn’t finished, and that’s where subtext reliant shows can hand off the story to be finished by fandom itself. In due South, as I mentioned before, Ray and Fraser jump into a dogsled and ride off over the snowy horizon to “Find the hand of Franklin, reaching for the Beaufort sea”. It’s where I chose my meta name, as I’ve mentioned before, because that ending - that ending - handed us all the subtext so far and said “Here, take it, it’s yours now. Do with it what you like”–and we did. But that was twenty years ago. I loved that ending (I still think it was a very elegant solution) and it was expected and appropriate for a show that in itself is a “Faves Are Problematic” show, but that’s also why I get so passionate about discussing the subtext in Supernatural.

It’s younger than due South. While it may have begun back when Willow from Buffy had her first girlfriend, it is ending now, not at the turn of the century where a dogsled was still good enough to get the point across and none of us had Twitter. My own experiences, my lifelong queer confusion make it so I feel pretty damn bad for people trying to use Supernatural as a medium for their own self-exploration, using characters from SPN as their lenses. A show these days that makes bank on those tropes and doesn’t inform its audience (positively or negatively) is doing so irresponsibly because of the modern context in which the show presently (not historically) sits, and the increasing awareness of the issues surrounding it. Networks, then, are ultimately responsible for that, but they are in a way which is entirely different and far more directly culpable than they were 20 years ago, because people are out there making money out of those intentional subtextual devices. They chose to do it; took a deep breath and backed right up away from Gamble’s problematic queerbashing tropes, chewed it over, then hired gay writers and dived right back in with more grown up, progressive, and less shitty subtext–but still subtext. 

This show that ended 20 years ago was able to cross way more lines with subtext in one episode than Supernatural has done sometimes in an entire season. It did so despite and because of it’s international audience, on a conservative network that would late purchase Paramount, and Star Trek, and ended with a powerfully subtextual ending. Supernatural, of course, is under a far more powerful microscope from the bigots than those oblivious to subtext back in the 90s could have ever produced. due South, like SPN was just “wholesome family entertainment” to a conservative audience that was completely oblivious by all accounts, yet was laden heavily with queer innuendo. It was also blissfully short, and existed in a social media world which consisted of Yahoo groups and not much else. 

In modern context, Supernatural gets a fox in the henhouse treatment from that same audience, and acts accordingly (when it’s not using that same subtext to deliver earnest Fuck You’s to that audience). While I expect Supernatural to bravely - even considering this scrutiny - deliver a dogsled subtextual ending on a good day, there are bad days, too, because the queer subtext has been underlined so loudly that everyone can see it, because it’s “practically text”, because the bottom line is increasingly more concerned with satisfying those bigots (even while they mock them), and because queer fans are “too loud” about what they want. How dare they. /s The pushback caused by being loud about things you care about, the bigots actually seeing subtext in front of their noses, isn’t bad because now they know what we’ve been doing all along, and we won’t be able to get away with it any more; it means they’re becoming more aware of narratives other than their own. Yes, some people will push back, but “when you’re accustomed to privilege, equality feels like oppression”, and they can shove it right up their asses.

All I ever ask of myself when I interrogate my present day viewing experience, is this: when I sat as a youngster watching due South thinking “This subtextual ending is enough for me”, did I truly believe it was okay to be watching a show about two white guys with a subtextual ending 20 years later? Was that the future I dreamed of and aspired to? Would I be disappointed? The answer is yes, I am disappointed. No matter the whys, the fundamental and societal reasons–I am disappointed. I still love the show probably more than I should, but I am disappointed in the society it sits in - which is increasingly capitulating to far more powerful global financial powers than a couple of red state homophobes - and I’m disappointed in the way we’re treating each other for even caring, and I’m disappointed in myself, too, for being naive and imagining we would be much further down this road now than we are. But we are a capitalistic society, and being both the commodity and the customer should be a surprise to literally nobody at this point. It doesn’t mean you have to like it.

And if you don’t feel that way, that’s okay. We all come from different places. We have different perspectives. We need and want different things, for different reasons, and find joy in different things for different reasons. Variety of opinion is as much a wonderful thing as it is completely terrifying.

I’ve wandered somewhat off topic, so I’m going to go back to the show I love, my chocolate pudding and custard comfort food TV show, and the long stares and the beautiful uncomplicated subtext.

And sign off with half a dozen gifs.

Eye fucking:

Conversations in closets and bathrooms:

Going down with the ship

Intuitively understanding each other without a word spoken

His hobbies humiliate me in public

“Do you find me attractive?”

Sulking in the corridor while you reunite with your ex

This whole ep with original Ray:

And his wolf approving of both

Not pictured “I love you” “And I you”, “Get out of the closet”, actual hand holding when it’s unnecessary, formally handcuffing your buddy, getting stuck in an ice crevasse and a mini submarine together–and so so much more. I invite you to watch the show if you can find it (I have it on a really nice set of DVDs, but there’s some dodgy ones out there that look like they recorded the DVD straight off a VHS, so do check reviews) or else try and find it online. There was a Canada promoting YouTube channel which published both due South and shows like Slings and Arrows, which I recommend as well (It’s not actually bury your gays if the ghost of your gay best friend haunts you, right?) so you should be able to poke around and find a legit copy somewhere. I’ve bigged it up and talked it down, and wandered a long way off topic (that describes my relationship with every show, but especially when I recommend them) but I hope somewhere along the line I also answered the question. The way I hear it Leverage is a similar sort of comfort food, though I haven’t seen it. Sounds like I should put it on my To Watch list.

#due south #dogsled replies #queerbaiting #subtext #destiel #about me

[romanosgirl1978]

Title TBD II

Okay. So i know its been a long ass time... but Ive had this for almost a year now and quite a bit of progress. So I wanted to post it. Also, as always, thank you @fan-grell-411 for all your help throughout this thing.

This is my first ( i think) Star Trek fic that I’ve posted.

Bones x Reader

Warnings-Cursing

Word Count -1214

Summary- Reader is Jim’s twin and falls for a certain southern doctor. Will they be able to make it through the self-sacrifices and secrets? {Extreme slow burn. This will not be a quick thing}

“So how’d you do?” You asked him as you walked out of the testing facility. You and your brother had both just finished taking Starfleet’s aptitude test.

“Its an aptitude test (Y/N). It's not something that you can fail,” Jim says. “But I think that I did pretty well. The questions seemed fairly simple. What about you, resident genius? How’d you do?”

“Please, you're just as smart as I am. You just choose to act like an idiot.”

“Says the one who stole a police hoverbike and re-registered it,” he whispers in your ear, nodding to the very same bike that you drove to the test today.

“The improved bike that no one is even suspicious about. And besides, I'm not the one that keeps getting into fights. That's all you Jimmy boy.”

“Tch, that's besides the point. Anyway, how do you think you did?”

“As good as I can, I don't really know. Hopefully good enough to get out of this damn town,” you mutter, swinging a leg over the bike.

“You gonna leave me here all by myself, sis?”

“Damn right. Can't stand being near you,” you joke, winking at him as you pull your hair out of your face.

“Yeah yeah. You gonna be home tonight?” He asks, voice suddenly serious.

You nod. “I should be. I'll send a message if anything changes though.”

He wraps an arm around your shoulders and kisses the top of your head. “Be safe.”

“Never,” you grab the wireless headphones and put them in, starting your favorite riding playlist, before revving the bike and driving out of the parking lot.

A short drive later brings you to the sketchier part of your little town and into the tattoo parlor.

“Back so soon sweetheart?” The owner, Matt, asks when he sees you walk in.

You smile at him. “Sure am. I just finished my aptitude test and wanted to finish off the rose before I get shipped to Starfleet.”

“You got accepted already?” He asks, shocked but proud.

“No. It's not official yet. But I think I did and there's no way in hell I’m letting anyone else finish your masterpiece.”

“How long have I got you for then?”

You grin at him. “Until you finish. We’re completing it today. What do you say, you up for it?” You ask, holding up the oversized tee-shirt you always brought for your sessions.

“You’re on. Think you can handle the pain sweetheart?”

“Have I ever not been able to?”

“Come on,” he heads back to his work station and sets your chair up, patting it once he's done. “Go ahead and change, get comfortable. Call me when you're ready,” he smiles at you before walking out, letting you change and shift around.

“Alright Matty. I’m ready.”

“You're sure about this?” He asks one last time.

“It's a bit late for that dont you think,” you say, lifting the shirt to the top of your hip to show an outline of a rose from your last session here. “I mean we've already got the outline for it done.”

“Alright then, let's finish it.” He pulls his chair up beside you and tests the machine a couple of times before steadying your leg. “Let me know if I need to stop for a minute so you can catch your breath alright? No toughing it out for the whole session this time. It's gonna take a few hours to shade all of this.”

You nod at him. “I promise Matt. Now let's get started.”

“Ma’am yes, ma’am,” he teases and starts shading, the only thing that keeps you from hitting his shoulder.

Through the whole four hours that it takes to shade you only need to take three breaks, mostly to use the bathroom, and it's over.

“All done sweetheart,” Matt says, dabbing a paper towel at the excess ink that surrounds the rose, cleaning it up the best he can. “What do you think?” He asks a bit nervously.

You slide out of the chair, wincing a little when you put too much weight on your leg, and limp over to the full length mirror.

“Oh wow.” You blink a few times and admire the artwork. “Matty. This… this is beautiful.” You turn to him, tears in your eyes. “I seriously can't thank you enough. I love it.”

He beams and nods. “I’m glad. Hope you don't mind the vines and thorns I added. I thought that it fit with the rose, and with you.”

“Of course I don't mind. It's your artwork. And it's just… it really is perfect Matt.”

You walk over to him and give him a hug. “And just so you know. I will never go to anyone else for a tattoo. It will always be you.”

“Thank you, (Y/N). That means a lot to me. But I’m really glad you like it. Would you mind if I got a picture of it for my portfolio?”

“Have I ever said no to that?” You tease, wiping the tears from your eyes as you pull away from him.

“Jump back up on the chair and I’ll go grab the camera.”

You do as he says and take a deep breath.

He snaps a few quick pictures and lets you pull on some sweats.

You leave him a nice sized tip and give him one last hug before you leave, finally headed back home.

You park your bike in the garage and quietly sneak in through the back door, heading straight up to Jim’s room, knocking on the door quietly before slipping in.

“Hey. You still up?” You ask quietly.

“Yeah I’m still up,” he groans. “Been waiting on your sorry ass to get home.”

He sits up in the bed and slides back against the headboard, giving you enough room to sit down. “What the hell took you so long?”

You sit down and grin up at him. “I finally finished it.”

“Finished what?”

“The rose. The tattoo that I got the outline for like a month ago. I got it shaded today.”

His eyes widen and he looks to the door. “You’re joking right? Jack’s gonna flip when he finds out,” he whispers harshly.

“Relax,” you tell him, rolling your eyes. “He’s not gonna find out. It's in a covered place and I’ll hopefully be leaving for the fleet in a few weeks. If he ever does find out it's gonna be too late.”

“I can't believe you actually got a tattoo,” Jim mumbles.

“A few actually,” you correct.

“A few?!”

“Shhh. You're gonna wake someone up.”

“How many do you have?”

“Just three, including the rose. I’ve been getting them for months now. And he's not gonna find out about them. Plus they won't show in the uniform so I won't have to worry about it being unprofessional either.”

He runs his hand through his, already messy, blond hair.

“And they call me the trouble kid,” he fumes.

“I’ve said it before and I’ll say it again. It's cause you get caught and I don't,” you grin at him and kiss his cheek. “Night J. I’ll see you in the morning.”

“Night,” he sighs, laying back down as you head down the hall and into your own room, muttering an ‘unbelievable’ before you shut his door completely.

#bones #leonard mcco #leonard mccoy x reader #x reader #bones x reader #star trek #star trek aos #star trek x reader

[creativity-is-rebellion]

Top 10 Favourite TV Shows I Have Seen (So Far)

I’ve done a few of these lists for film and music now, so I thought I would turn my attention to the small screen. The funny thing about these lists is that they may not represent an entirely accurate picture of what they intend to illuminate upon, but rather what comes to one’s mind when they are being compiled. In saying that, all of the below TV series definitely stand somewhere on my lengthy favourites list. So, here we go:

True Detective, Season One (2014)

It’s been said by others before me, but Season One of True Detective is without a doubt a near-perfect blend of narrative, dialogue, and cinematography, arguably the best in the last 20 years or so of crime shows. The Southern Gothic and Cosmic horror elements are present in the decay of the surroundings, the extravagantly decorated victims, and the sinister antagonists. This is juxtaposed with the world-weary detective trope, which switches between present-day interviews with the show’s two protagonists and flashbacks to where the narrative of the season began back in 1995, with the discovery of a body that has been placed in some kind of ritual tableau. Both Woody Harrelson and Matthew McConaughey do a fine job playing the protagonist detectives on the case, but the complexity of McConaughey’s Rustin Cohle definitely steals the show, so much so that his performance re-launched his career (known at the time as the McConaissance). It’s a lot more terrifying than your typical detective series, borrowing a lot of concepts from philosophers, such as Nietzsche, and has an overall depressing and nihilistic vibe. But these elements, in my opinion, just add to its ingenuity and watchability. 10/10.

Dead Like Me (2003-2004)

Ok, so this show is now a cult classic, but at the time it didn’t get enough viewers, so there were only two seasons. I was one of the people who didn’t watch it until many years after its initial run. The renewed interest in the series even spawned a movie version in 2009, six years after the series came out. The premise is simple enough; a young, sardonic girl dies in an accident, and now she, along with a few other wrongfully-dead individuals, need to help a certain amount of people cross-over before being allowed to finally go through the pearly gates themselves. But the series approaches the plot in a unique manner, adding heart to the characters, and being appropriately funny, deep, and interesting when it needs to be. There is a reason it is now a cult classic. 10/10. 

Mindhunter (2017-2019)

Ah, the show that tells the story of how profiling at the FBI began, without naming any real-life FBI agents, but portraying hauntingly accurate versions of the serial killers that helped shape the system. I preferred the first season, even if Holden Ford, the main character, at times, appeared just as creepy as the monsters he was interviewing. The freaky-deaky sex scenes in the first season were kinda unnecessary, in my opinion, and took away from the main plot. It was enough to hear about the sexually-deviant acts of the sadistic killers being retold during interviews, and, even though it was meant to show the effects these stories were having on Holden, it still wasn’t needed. I also hated his bitch of a girlfriend. But other than that, the plot moves along at an interesting pace, with an adequate amount of foreboding that should be there when you fill up your days interviewing homicidal psychopaths. The second season took to long to appear in the world of Netflix, where audiences have the attention span of goldfishes, and was over-ambitious in its introduction of more serial killers than its predecessor, and jumping ahead too much in the timeline. I think that, since the first season, it has been interesting the way they start some of their episodes with the exploits of then-uncaught Dennis Rader, or the BTK (Bind, Torture, Kill) Killer, but, because there will be no more seasons, we will not see the ending of this plot. Also, in the second season, the plot about Bill Tench’s boy, and Dr. Wendy Carr’s love-life also took away from the plot. It seems that every time they delve into any of the main characters’ personal lives, they veer wildly off-track. They also could have found a more interesting serial killer to track than the Atlanta Child Murderer Wayne Williams, or could have done it differently. The audience agrees with this, obviously, because there will be no third season. Boy, it sounds like I was super-negative in this review, but I swear, I am a fan, if only for the interesting premise, excellent character portrayals, and creepy atmosphere. 8/10.

Dexter (2006-2013)

Fellow Dexter fans, repeat after me: We choose to ignore the ending. We choose to ignore the ending. We choose to ignore the ending. Sigh. Feel better? Good. Moving on. Dexter, the premise of a serial killer who only kills bad guys, as sketched out originally in Jeff Lindsay’s books (the novels for which the TV series was based upon), was, in 2006, a delightfully refreshing addition to Showtime’s prime-time slot set. In spite of what others thought, my favourite character besides Dexter was his sister Deb, played marvellously by Jennifer Carpenter. After Rita’s sadly horrific death at the end of Season 5 at the hands of the Trinity Killer (the best antagonist of the entire series), the quality of the show tumbled steeply downhill, but not enough for me to stop watching. 8/10.

American Horror Story (2011-Current)

I’ve enjoyed all nine seasons of American Horror Story, for its scares, and even for, at times, the sheer ludicrousness and campy acting. The best seasons, of course, include Jessica Lange, and no season to date has eclipsed the first two, but I like how there is a connected universe with each addition to the anthology. I am a person that enjoys a side-helping of Easter eggs and foreshadowing in my TV series, and AHS provides just that. Season 1 will always be the best for being the one that started it all, and Season 2 is a masterpiece. After that, my rankings are 5, 3, 4, 8, 6, 9 and 7. The latter seasons tend to follow a trend of peaking midway through, before skulking toward lukewarm endings. But the sheer existence of this show pleases the horror buff in me, so I will never tire of it. I can’t wait until October to see what they have in store for Season 10. 8/10.

Freaks and Geeks (1999)

Judd Apatow’s foray into the politics of high school in the early-1980s only lasted one season, but what a season it was. Freaks and Geeks introduced 16-year-old Lindsay Weir, who, after her grandmother’s death, is sick of being the brainy kid and wants to hang out with the freaks and finally be cool, sometimes with hilarious or heartwarming results. There is also her geeky freshman brother, Sam, and his equally awkward friends who run along as side-plots and occasionally provide the moral foil to the overarching plot of an episode. With a stellar cast, most of whom went on to even greater things, such as Linda Cardellini, Seth Rogen, and James Franco, Freaks and Geeks is more real than most teen dramas, and has rightfully developed a cult following in the years since the show’s cancellation. 9/10.

Twin Peaks (1990-1991, then again in 2017)

Ahead of its time, a pioneer 

American Gothic (1995-1996)

This is a forgotten horror gem of the mid-90s that kick-started Sarah Paulson’s career long before AHS, and Gary Cole was electric as crooked cop Sheriff Buck exerting evil supernatural influence over a small god-fearing town in the South. I first saw this show when I was 10, and it scared the crap out of me. The senseless murder of Merlyn Temple at the hands of Cole’s aforementioned sheriff haunted me years afterward.

Community (2009-2015)

In the first few seasons, Dan Harmon’s hilarious comedy, Community, starts off normally enough, centring around a lawyer (Joel McHale’s Jeff Winger) who is exposed as having a fake degree, and is required to attend community college to obtain the proper credentials to be re-admitted into the bar. When he forms a study group, initially with the goal to convince the girl he has a crush on (Britta Perry, played by Gillian Jacobs), to go out with him, they all become fast friends and partake in many crazy exploits while studying at Greendale, including a dark parallel universe, which has evil versions of each character. With a stellar ensemble cast, including Donald Glover of Childish Gambino fame, and Chevy Chase, who is still hilarious in his seventies, this show is must-see television. Stream it today. 10/10.

The Good Place (2016-2019)

The ending made me sad. 

[citizenaycock]

Persona (1966) | Directed and Written by Ingmar Bergman

(preferable trailer over original from Austin Film Society)

Film Intro and Purpose for Page

Heady Times = Heady Films!...and we’re all wearing masks right now, literal and metaphorical. To start off my new page I’m going to begin at the tippy top with Ingmar Bergman’s Persona, the “Mount Everest of Film Analysis”, which has been described as creating even more contradictions when trying to analyze it.    It was made in 1965 in Sweden and is commonly in conversation as one of the greatest films of all time.  Bergman died at his home where he filmed Persona on July 30, 2007. This was also my first day ever to visit Los Angeles, right before moving here the following month. I remember seeing it on the LA local news while staying at a beach hotel with my Mom.  I don’t know how I remember it so clearly but I can see that room now, in my head, and the news anchor looking into the camera.  It’s also worth mentioning that Michelangelo Antonioni, the Italian filmmaker, died on the same day.  Two giants of cinema.   I rewatched Persona late last night and took a copious amount of notes. I first saw this film 7 or 8 years ago and then twice recently. This entry will be more lengthy than future ones because I naturally felt the need to be more specific with this particular film...I wanted to have a fighting chance at semi-understanding it.  I will only look something up if absolutely necessary for factual purposes. Although (full disclosure) the “Mount Everest of Film Analysis” title was taken from the first paragraph on the film’s Wikipedia. This was before I decided exhaustive searches about film historians’ perspectives would just be too much for these posts.  Instead, I will focus on my unique thoughts and perspective about the film and what I feel is valid.     

After filling my head with Persona I went to bed. I then dreamt that I was in a writers’ room with filmmaker Paul Thomas Anderson (who is one of my favorite filmmakers and will turn up on this page soon).  We began talking about his film The Master. I remember feeling frustrated in the dream that I couldn’t think of anything clever to say about it in front of him. He told me that films sometimes just fold in together in unexpected ways, almost by luck.  This prompted me to finish his sentence by saying that films sometimes generate these unplanned illuminating interpretations that are endless. He agreed with me, which felt good, even though in reality I was speaking for Paul because he was just a character in my dream...or possibly something outside the grasp of my conscious mind spoke for him/me.

So why start with Persona? Why start this page?? Because I am fascinated by the mystery of great films and believe there is transformation and understanding when one attempts to decipher "works of art” like this.  Plus, it’s fun for me and a rewarding challenge to complete. Mulholland Drive was my big bang moment (influenced by Persona) and I have been hooked on digging into these type of films ever since.  I’m also a filmmaker that has been working on a Short for the past year (which has been grueling) and feel I can improve my own filmmaking abilities by  breaking down these masterpieces in my own words. My goal is to attempt not to stray too far from what is objectively being shown while also using my own knowledge of what I think the filmmakers are trying to say...or, even better, DIDN’T know they were trying to say.  And I’m sure writing about the metacognitive nature of this particular film will reveal a lot about myself, which is what great cinema inspires.   

Enigmatic Opening

The film fades in and we are inside a film projector. Images begin to flash quickly and chaotically.  I will mention some below:   -A penis.  -An animated female character upside down that eventually holds her breasts.  -A silent era movie chase scene of a skeleton coming out of a chest, and then dracula chasing a man in his pajamas.  He fearfully jumps in bed and throws the covers over himself.  Is it just a dream?   -A closeup of a sheep being slaughtered, bleeding out. -Screen flashes white to a shot of Jesus’ hand being nailed to the cross, which to me resembles the tarantula that flashed earlier.   -Cuts to a quiet forrest, then sharp tops of a metal fence and next a dirty snowpile in front of a building... Why are we being shown this? I believe this opening operates like a dream.  Are these images preparing our unconscious for what we see later? It’s impossible to know exactly unless some detailed external commentary is given.  I remember reading Roger Ebert saying the sequence was Bergman stating he is creating a new type of cinema, expressing this by starting in the projector and ending in the projector.  This never crossed my mind while watching.

-An old woman dead on a table possibly in a morgue, then a man. -A phone rings.  The dead women suddenly opens her eyes. -A boy opens his eyes, waking up.  He puts on his glasses as the phone continues to ring and opens a book and begins reading.  He then looks into the camera at us (a motif for certain moments in the film, especially for Elisabet).  -Next, a reverse shot which reveals he is looking at a screen that covers the wall.  It’s a striking image as the music crescendoes.  The screen reveals what looks to be an unrecognizable woman that keeps blurring and morphing.  The boy touches the screen in a way that I interpret as yearning. Then it becomes clear the women’s faces on the screen are the main characters that we will soon meet and spend the film with, Alma and Elisabet. Their faces are blending into one another, but it is still not extremely clear.  I had to go back and rewatch this part to verify if it was actually them. “Not extremely clear” is a theme throughout the film.  Who is who? What is a dream and what is not? This motif of faces and masks.  Insecurities about what to show and what to hide, which I think was my main, simplified takeaway from the movie after the first watch.   Predeterminism is also something that keeps popping in my head after watching.  Alma cannot hide from Elisabet.  Elisabet always seems to know at key moments. The Conscious cannot hide from the Unconscious.  The Swiss psychologist Carl Jung was a large inspiration for this film and the term persona is his term in the context aligning with the film.

Then the title page quickly flashes, along with the boy in glasses again, then the two main female characters, all in individual closeups.   This film is shot in 4:3 aspect ratio, which is conducive to faces and the two female characters have amazing faces with the help of the naturalistic cinematography of Sven Nykvist. Below is a couple of quotes I found beautiful by Bergman regarding the human face:

The music is amazing here too at the opening...percussion and xylophone with chaotic crescendos, which seem way ahead of its time.  

And is this boy shown, Bergman himself?...putting on his glasses, with childlike curiosity, yearning, awakening to this experience of making this novel film and what it will tell him? 

Alma and Elisabet Meet

We are at a hospital.  The Doctor informs the Nurse, Alma, that the patient, Elisabet, has stopped speaking.  She is an actress that became mute in the middle of a performance on stage playing Electra and has continued not speaking for 3 months.  (”Electra Complex” is a Jungian term that is the female version of the Oedipal Complex.) Alma anxiously enters Elisabet’s room and introduces herself saying she’s 25 years old and grew up on a farm in the country.  Elisabet looks away.   Alma later tells the doctor in the hallway that she can not help her and “may not be up to the task mentally”.  In my opinion, Alma’s insecurity with her mental faculties is a huge part of the film, possibly because she’s unaware and/or unwilling to see her full Self.    Alma goes back in the room and blurts out that she doesn’t understand films and theatre but has great admiration for artists and is impressed by Elisabet, who then embraces her.  Elisabet possibly needed this validation. Alma soon leaves the room after turning on the radio with symphony music. A closeup of Elisabet reveals how deeply she feels this music. Liv Ullmann (actress playing Elisabet) has such deep eyes that are able to convey so much as tears subtly well up. She eventually exhales and turns away from the camera and radio.  These moments occur with Elisabet throughout the film where she shows this sensitivity and understanding of something outside of the sphere of what is going on between Alma and herself.  For example, soon we see her in the bare hospital room (beautifully and minimally lit) reacting to news coverage of the Vietnam War.  The TV shows a monk that has set himself on fire in protest.  This backs Elisabet all the way up into the corner of the room, gasping with her hand over her mouth and in closeup it’s evident she feels so much of what’s she’s watching...and I felt it deeply too.  

In the scene prior, Alma is shown sitting on her bed in her nightgown (possibly talking to the camera first, then herself) about how she will get married, raise her kids and how everything is “decided” for her, predetermined. Several phrases that she uses during this self-assuring scene: “It is inside of me”, “Already written”, “I don’t even have to think about it.”   Which to me, is a stark contrast to who Elisabet is...a mother who has left her family, who does not accept her reality and who wants more. Yet, Alma now is sleepless also, sorting this out aloud, as if coming back into herself because Elisabet has perplexed and disrupted her.  Elisabet fascinates her. She admires Elisabet. Elisabet has introduced this mystery into Alma’s life now and is living in her thoughts.

The Doctor Speaks to Elisabet

I’m not sure what others have said about this scene, but in the moment while watching, I found it to be the most revealing, door-opening of the film.  I think it is because the Doctor speaks with such clarity and assurance. It is a more literal explanation of what is happening with Elisabet and a lot of the other scenes do not reveal themselves so easily.  You have to chew on them a bit.   The Doctor is older, integrated, in contrast to the two younger fragmented leads. The Doctor recommends Elisabet and Alma move in to her summer home next to the sea instead of staying at the hospital. She says it will be better for Elisabet there.  She then says she understands the chasm inside of Elisabet and also the deep chasm between Elisabet and others.  The Doctor continues by saying that this feeling of falseness and lies and the constant hunger to be “unmasked” is causing this paralysis of speech.  Elisabet is still, carefully listening. Apparently the Doctor is onto something. The close-up two shot during this scene is also a motif that recurs throughout the film. Sometimes the two shots are not exactly like this but very similar. The Doctor is fully lit.  Elisabet is half-lit, in shadow on the side closest to the camera.   I wonder if this half-shadow lighting is connected to Jung’s term, shadow. I wouldn’t be surprised if it was a literal, overt expression in the cinematography.  The shadow is defined as an unconscious aspect of the personality which the conscious ego does not identify in itself. Jung goes on to say that the shadow is often negative, because it is the least desirable aspects within oneself that has been conveniently ignored or rejected...because it’s uncomfortable to face (no pun intended). This is an accurate description regarding the characters. Alma also displays this rejection of the shadow multiple times that I will point out later. The Doctor then mentions Elisabet should play out this scenario until it is no longer interesting and then she can drop it, like a role.  Perhaps the Doctor says this to use a vernacular Elisabet will understand, but also connecting her condition to the mute persona Elisabet has now acquired.

The Summer House

It's amazing how much Bergman packs in to the first 22 minutes!

Alma and Elisabet are now at the summer house alone together, enjoying themselves in this isolated spot near the sea.  Alma grew up a farm girl, so is accustomed to this “rural seclusion”.  Elisabet’s coldness and indifference has seemed to disappear, moving out of the sterile hospital room to this new setting. The two sit together outside and go through mushrooms they’ve picked, both with similar style hats (light and dark) as they subtly hum a tune in unison.  Elisabet then compares her palms with Alma’s.  Alma grins and says it’s bad luck to compare hands.   The two are now on the rocky beach in their swimsuits. The beach is quite bleak, looks uncomfortable to lounge on and a bit other-worldly.  Alma reads a passage aloud from a book she’s reading, meditating on the “anxiety of the earthly condition”, perhaps something she thinks Elisabet will find profound. Elisabet takes this in, is moved and agrees with the existential description.  Alma however doesn’t agree, nor seems to fully comprehend what she’s read.   In the house now.  Alma has several moments where she begins to open up to Elisabet but then second-guesses herself, self-conscious of what the mute “artist” might think. And Elisabet IS hard to read.  She seems to me bored and distant at times, then lovingly engaged and listening.  Alma now smokes because Elisabet does and both dress similarly in black.

Alma continues to open up even more. A silent companion only leaves room for one talker.  Who is the patient now?  The camera angle features Alma’s speaking face in the foreground blocking Elisabet’s; one head blending together.  It’s as if Alma is discovering things about herself for the first time...about her chosen profession as a nurse and a past relationship.  The conversation moves to the bedroom.  Both are in their night gowns.  Alma tells a long, detailed story about an orgy on a beach involving her friend and two boys that approached them while they sunbathed nude. Elisabet is sitting up in the bed and Alma sits in a chair. Elisabet shows a few signs of pulling away due to Alma’s gregariousness and wears a cool “been there done that” expression, but as the story continues she becomes focused, still, and calculating.  If I had to guess, this sexual experience of Alma’s is the most intense event of her life. She had cheated on the man she is now engaged to and is so vulnerable here in her confession. The acting by Bibi Andersson is superb.  Alma ended up pregnant and had an abortion.  She weeps with guilt.     Is Alma’s mask fully off, revealing too much, bare to the bone?  What does Elisabet really think about all this? Is she “gaining” from this somehow?

They move to the dining table again in the other room. It’s raining outside.  Alma is loose and drunk, in a manner one is after a huge confession.  She again announces her inferiority, saying how boring she must be to Elisabet and what use she could possibly be to her. She also says that she should be more like Elisabet and not talk. Alma then points out how they look alike and she could turn into her if she made the effort. Then she says, “You could turn yourself into me just like that.  Although your soul would be much too big.  It would stick out everywhere!” My favorite lines of the film.  Alma then puts her head down on the table as if to sleep.  Elisabet then speaks for the only time in the film, telling Alma to go to bed before she falls asleep at the table.  Alma looks up blankly, puts her head back down, then pops up again and repeats what Elisabet just said.  Was it just a thought or did Elisabet actually speak?  Does Alma flirt here with Elisabet when saying good night? It looks like it.  

Alma’s Awakening

The bedroom is foggy.  Alma gets a glass of water then lies down in bed. Elisabet walks up the hallway into the bedroom, looking at Alma then into the white room around the corner. She then turns back.  A horn from a boat blows ominously outside in the night sea.  A slight breeze moves a white transparent curtain in the doorway.  Alma raises as if summoned, goes to Elisabet and leans her head on her wearily.  Then the iconic shot of the the two looking into the camera at us.  Elisabet places her hand on Alma’s forehead moves it back over her hair as if this is allowing Alma to “see” now, an awakening...Elisabet being the guide. Is this an opening of the third eye? It may be a stretch, but it crossed my mind.  The two actresses are so beautiful here, softly lit from above, and fold into each other afterwards like an integrated yin and yang as picture fades to black.  The music reminds me of Hitchcock’s and I’m not sure I like it, but the moment is indeed powerful. Did Alma dream this?  Does it matter?

Chaos

Picture fades back in and Elisabet greets us on the rocky beach.  She enters frame from below, taking a picture of us with a stills camera.  Alma is in the distant background next to the shore.  Elisabet walks to her and takes a photo of Alma as she clumsily poses.  Alma coldly asks Elisabet if she was in her room last night.  Elisabet shakes her head no and shows no sign of lying.  

Later in the house, Alma takes the mail to sent be sent off and has to take a drive to do this.  In the car, she opens up Elisabet’s letter to the Doctor in curiosity.  The first part of the letter is complimentary to the living situation and Alma, but then Elisabet writes, “it’s fun studying her (Alma) and how she cries over past sins.”  The letter also mentions Alma’s orgy and the abortion and says how she “complains that her notions of life fail to accord with her actions”.  Alma is stunned and gets out of the car.  She stands stolidly dressed all in black next to a murky pond looking at her reflection in wide shot. 

Alma is back at the house now in a black swimsuit with a grave look on her face.  This expression was nowhere to be found until this point in the film.  Outside she breaks a glass on accident and begins sweeping it up.  She notices she missed a large piece, but leaves it after seeing Elisabet coming outside.  The camera moves from the piece of glass as Elisabet’s bare feet pass by it, then back up to a watchful Alma.  Again, camera fixed on the piece of glass as Elisabet narrowly misses it and tilts back up to a silent Alma. Eventually, Elisabet steps on it, making a painful sound in response.    Alma watches from inside the house with a hard scowl behind a transparent curtain.  Elisabet stares back with a concerned, furrowed brow as if she knows what Alma did. A violent sound effect comes in along with a literal splitting of the picture, a deep transition within the film and the character of Alma.  She has crossed a line.

My first impression of the sound effect is it’s a film spool that is hung up in the machine...like the film has broken (similar to the glass) after Alma committed this act (or non-act).  The shot then literally burns up, starting on Alma’s face to a quiet white screen.  This effect would have seemed cheesy in almost in other film, but I think it works here.  It is simple and clear and connects to the meta, self-reflexive nature of the film.

Everything has changed now. Alma's insecurities have caused her to become darkened.  Her sought-after approval from Elisabet has been betrayed by the letter to the Doctor. She has lost herself and taken on a new protective persona. Or has she found power (even though misdirected) after her awakening? Pain leading to growth in her cycle?   What is for sure now is she is very far from the sweet, unsure nurse we saw at the beginning of the film. 

A voice in reverse is heard now (an effect David Lynch must have gleamed for Twin Peaks). We are again shown images similar to the opening of the film... the vampire, the skeleton, a spike going into Jesus’ hand accompanied by a disturbing scream and an extreme closeup on a shifty eyeball that the camera pushes in on... What do the eyes say and can the camera uncover it? Can we see the soul if the camera looks into the eye close enough? Camera fades in to Elisabet walking around the house, picture blurred and in slow motion, which eventually becomes focused and at normal speed.  She exits the house and goes outside looking for Alma. Eventually she finds her and touches Alma’s cheek with sweet, subtle affection and sits down to read. Alma is dressed in all black with dark black sunglasses. She acts cool and distant and lurks around behind a sitting Elisabet, poking at her with words and becoming visibly more upset and restless by the moment.  She soon loses the facade saying she feels used and discarded (like the Doctor explained Elisabet’s “acting role”). Alma continues saying she has been hurt very badly and laughed at behind her back.  She then confesses she read the letter to the Doctor and accuses Elisabet of getting her to talk and mention things she’s never mentioned to anyone! Alma pleads for Elisabet to speak.  The argument becomes violent.  Elisabet slaps Alma and bloodies her nose.  The two stop.  Elisabet begins to laugh at the ridiculousness of the situation.  I thought Alma might join in with the laughter here but she does the opposite and runs into the bathroom crying.  She is so sensitive about being laughed at at this point that the internal turmoil just increases. After a while, Alma reenters the room calm and raw. She asks Elisabet if being truly genuine, telling the truth, not evading things, truly being oneself...sloppy and silly...can this be possible?  She says Elisabet might get better if she just allows herself to be what she is.  Elisabet smokes her cigarette, cooly facing the opposite direction and doesn’t react or show much at all.  Alma is unsatisfied with the lack of reciprocity and says angrily she knows how rotten Elisabet really is.  This strikes a nerve with Elisabet and she storms out.  Alma immediately feels regret and asks God what she is doing, then runs after her.

A long, beautiful tracking shot along the rocky beach as Alma chases after Elisabet apologizing profusely.  She says how honored she was for an actress of her caliber to be interested in what she had to say, but then how hurt she felt because she was betrayed in the letter.  Alma “blabbers on”.  Elisabet eventually turns as if she might embrace Alma, but coldly walks away.  To me, it was as if the mask was projecting one thing, creating a pause in Alma, thinking that an embrace might occur, then Elisabet’s action doing another thing, walking away coldly.  An example of the mask not connecting with the action. Alma falls to the rocky beach, distraught.

The next shot, in stark contrast, Alma is sitting serenely near the shore.  Elisabet is in the house, pacing with a cigarette, looking out the window (that reminds me so much of a shot in Woody Allen’s “Interiors”).  There is a deep anticipating heaviness that Bergman is masterfully able to create here with the help of the music.  Elisabet shows more emotion here than usual.  Is it because she is alone and no one is there to observe her? She shows visible sadness again soon after, alone in her bedroom. She then comes across a photo in a book. It is of Jewish children being lined up by the Nazis in World War II. Her sadness becomes deeper and focused, maximized by the horror-enducing music accompanying.  Elisabet’s empathetic contemplation here is similar to when she was at the hospital watching the burning monk in the Vietnam War news footage.   Closeup on the picture, which is of a young boy with his hands up as a gun is pointed at him.  The camera then cuts to various other closeups, bouncing around the photo examining every face...every mask.

What is Bergman trying to tell us here?  This may be a stretch, but my first thoughts were that Bergman is briefly pointing at something universal which includes all human psychological underpinnings.  It is connected to our two protagonists in the film and what 's happening with them psychologically, but for moment looking beyond them, silently illuminating the potential evil (the shadow) within all human beings.  That the fear of truly living without a mask can create such a sickness in man that one is potentially able to create this type of destruction towards others.  That instead of facing oneself honestly, being whatever it is that you are, that a mental illness can form and the persona can fully take over.  That one can become so identified with the persona of being a “Nazi” that they would point a gun at a “Jewish” child.

Again, back to the psychologist Carl Jung who looked to Eastern philosophy often as a reference for his work.  In Eastern philosophy there is a common belief that under the mask is the godhead within each individual.  To repeat from earlier, Jung believed the mask (or persona) was not the true self and could keep us from a much deeper, truer self which included a unified “collective unconscious” that all humans share.  Opposed to a healthy mask essential for social life, if it completely overtakes the godhead (or the true self) chaos ensues within that individual because one is also identifying everyone else solely based on their masks.  Divinity can no longer be seen in ones’ fellow man or woman.  All humanity towards others can potentially be thrown out the window because of this difference in “mask” and atrocities can occur because of the dual nature of this thinking, rather than a unifying recognition of a collective unconscious in the “other”. And if there are enough individuals, disconnected from the godhead/true self,  you get Nazis killing Jews. ALL mask. ALL persona.   And no recognition of the holy selfhood in others, which ultimately stems from fear, blinding the individual... And taking us back to the film of our two fearful protagonists where the persona is being focused upon.   

Does Elisabet understand all of this yet is unable to change herself? Or is her silence a rejection of the mask, a rebellion to conform and/or an attempt to get better? I don’t know.

We cut to Alma now in her bedroom and she is having a bad dream, shaking her head violently side to side.  She wakes up and turns on a portable radio.  Through the static it says “we don’t talk...listen...or understand”, then the voice says something about “Elisabet” and “by what means should...to enable.” Is the radio representative of her conscious mind tuning in to another frequency?  I see no other reason for the radio that randomly appears out of the blue. We then see Alma going into Elisabet’s room, who is asleep.  Alma begins watching her, smelling her, taking her in and even touches her face. She comments aloud how Elisabet’s face is slack and her mouth is swollen and ugly, then points out a wrinkle. She also mentions she can see a scar that Elisabet normally covers with makeup.  Alma seems to relish in the fact she sees her this way, with her guard down and is able to feel superior in this moment.  Alma hears a voice from another room that says “Elisabet” and leaves.  Is it the radio from a few moments before?  Elisabet then opens her eyes and looks into the camera again at us.  She was not asleep. She was acting like she was sleeping.  Even when Alma thought she was superior, Elisabet was still conscious.  Perhaps because the unconscious never sleeps and Elisabet is representative of the unconscious.     

"Elisabet” and Mr. Vogler

This next part becomes the most surreal and hardest to understand in my opinion.  It is dawn now.  Alma walks through the house, then is startled by Mr. Vogler, Elisabet’s husband.  He calls Alma “Elisabet” and begins explaining how this has been hard on their little boy and continues further about their relationship.  Alma once again says she is not his wife, as Elisabet creeps up from behind fixated on Mr. Vogler, lurking behind Alma’s shoulder in a two-shot closeup.  Elisabet then guides Alma’s hand up to caress Mr.Vogler’s face, like Alma is her puppet.  He is a strange, stern looking man with dark sunglasses. Alma now is under the spell that this is her husband, and says she loves him very much. We’re now watching in a reverse shot with Elisabet in the foreground, looking upset, as the other two are professing their love for one another.  Alma moves her gaze to Elisabet in a conniving way and continues with Mr. Vogler in spite of Elisabet and they kiss. This is one of the most puzzling parts of the film to me and I found myself, mentally, wanting to check out.  I had to consciously will myself to pay close attention and try to decode this. I think because it smashed the narrative I currently had going in my head of what I thought the film was.  It’s as if Alma is now a vessel controlled by Elisabet, but why? Alma seems to be unaware of Elisabet, then aware. Is it because Alma, who adores Elisabet, can now see what it's like to be in her shoes?  Is Elisabet upset because Alma is now privy to this? I think there is also a deeper subtext throughout the film where Alma is representative of the “conscious” and Elisabet the “unconscious”, which is running parallel to what is literally being shown, yet sometimes they blend like a dream.  I’ve mentioned this once and is worth mentioning again.   Alma/Elisabet and Mr. Vogler are laying down now and it seems they have just made love.  Alma/Elisabet soon goes from tender to a violent struggle asking to be anesthetized! She cries saying she is cold and rotten and indifferent, “all lies and imitation”.  The camera moves to an extreme closeup on Elisabet and fades to white.   Does Alma clearly see Elisabet now?  Was Alma able to break through Elisabet’s persona and truly feel what it was like for her with her husband and why they are estranged? Or it could very well be Elisabet detaching herself from the past experience and processing it this way as we see things from her point of view.  And rather than Bergman showing a flashback with Elisabet and Mr. Vogler, he presents it this way with Alma standing in? I keep asking these questions because I feel the questions are more important than the answers.  A film that just gives answers is not a film I am interested in seeing.  If answers are the most important thing then one should just read the dictionary and not watch Persona.    

Alma Strengthened?

It is daylight now.  Mr. Vogler is nowhere to be found.  The scene starts as almost a complete nosequitar to what just occured. Alma sees Elisabet hiding something under her hand and makes her show what it is, like a student being disciplined by a teacher.  It is a picture of Elisabet’s child. Alma asks her to talk about it. Elisabet shakes her head no, so Alma speaks for her.   Alma’s attitude is similar to the Doctor’s now and is dressed exactly like Elisabet.  Both have been in black most of the time, but now it is exactly matching, up to the detail of the black headband.    So why is it important they dress in black?  There must a reason, or several. I’ve seen some far out interpretations of what this film is, so I’m going to take a swing regarding a possible reason why this deep black is worn by the characters a majority of the time.    Both are in a state of “dying”.  Not in the physical sense, but psychologically...a chaos, a putrefaction (alchemy term).  It doesn’t necessarily mean something so simple as “black is negative”/“white is positive”, but chaos/putrefaction/psychological death is an essential stage in life as fragmented reality occurs.  It is impossible to stay in the light all the time.  We are human.  We are foulable beings tossed out of the Garden of Eden.  We become confused, tragedy occurs, we become fearful. This is what life is and it’s inevitable.   In this film’s case, unity does not reign but a duality of “Alma” and “Elisabet”, who must pass through this stage in the cycle in order to become unified and “in the light” again (atleast that’s the goal).  The film is at a point in their lives in which chaos reigns, for reasons I’ve previously highlighted regarding the shadow, persona and self.  And Carl Jung was very well-versed in Alchemy and it’s metaphors, as I assume Bergman was as well.  Also, perhaps this connects to the morgue and skeleton during the beginning sequence

This is the most still and confident we have seen Alma in the film. Alma now begins to speak Elisabet’s story to Elisabet. This begins with a comment someone made to Elisabet at a party telling her that she had everything as a woman and an artist but lacked motherliness. Elisabet, in turn, then became pregnant. Elisabet next felt frightened, in over her head regarding all that pregnancy and motherhood required of her, but she “played the role”, put on the persona as a Mother. As Alma speaks, this is the most emotion Elisabet has shown in front of Alma the entire film, looking away, furrowing her brow, half-lit, terrified and found out!  Alma continues, saying Elisabet had wished the baby would’ve been stillborn and a deep shame washes over Elisabet as she ducks her head.  Alma is vicious, continuing on about how much Elisabet despised the baby, how it cried day and night and how she was scared with a bad conscience. The boy eventually went to live with relatives and Elisabet went back to the theatre.  The boy loves his mother greatly, but Elisabet is always cold and indifferent...disgusted by him. The scene then starts over again, but with an over-the-shoulder shot onto Alma this time.  The exact same dialogue is repeated and we have to again hear this painful dressing down of Elisabet and her resentful relationship with her son.    The over-the-shoulder shot turns into two 1-shots, the same as with Elisabet the first time.  Alma is also half-lit and I don’t think she ever blinks (which made me think of Paul Thomas Anderson’s film The Master scene at the table but between two men.)

After Alma finishes (on a straight-ahead closeup) Elisabet’s face begin to take up the darkly lit half of Alma’s and she says, “No! I’m not like you”, “I’m Sister Alma, I’m just here to help you.”   The two faces are now one.  Duality to Unity. Both face-halfs are now in the light.   Elisabet’s half appears and disappears a few times and then appears fully with punctuating music at the end of the scene, freeze-framing before fading to gray.  It is striking how well their faces actually match up.

Obviously I’m going to expand on what I think happened here. Alma has entered Elisabet’s head so deeply, she was able to intuit this dark story about Elisabet and all of the unflattering details.  Alma had to suffer to get to this point in order to enter Elisabet’s mind.  And her entry is so intense she begins to lose herself.  Her self-assuredness then quickly turns back to the vulnerable, scared Alma from before.   Is this for the best Elisabet hears this?  I kept thinking while watching that a regular moviegoer would interpret this as overly harsh by Alma.   But it is also Elisabet becoming fully aware of why she decided to become pregnant in the first place and the subsequent emotional damage caused to her son.  It then covers up to the point where she becomes mute during the Electra play.  Elisabet needed Alma in order to get to this point of realization, as painful as it might’ve been.

A Standoff and Enigmatic Ending

We open on a 1-shot of Elisabet and a quick close-up catching a glimmer of defiance as Alma enters the room with her nurse’s outfit on now. Alma attempts to match her defiance and a stareoff ensues.   Alma says she’s learned quite a bit and physically punches forward directly in front of an unflinching Elisabet.  Alma then leans in and says she will never be like Elisabet (denying the shadow) and says she changes all the time and Elisabet will never get to her. 

Another stareoff. Soon Alma breaks and begins nervously hitting the table.  

I have thought about this scene moreso than any other scene after watching the film.  To me, there is so much to unpack.  Alma is never able to get a leg up on Elisabet for very long.  Again, I think this reinforces the metaphor that the conscious is unable to escape the unconscious. The same as a human being unable to escape the eye of God.  This is why pre-determination was mentioned at the beginning of this post.  If we are following this logic, Alma is predetermined not to gain a mental edge on Elisabet.  She’s not formed to have the depth that someone like Elisabet has, no matter how much she’s “learned” or the mask she has tried to maintain.  Elisabet knows her thoughts and has the mental ability to consume her and Alma knows this and it manifests in this anxious pounding on the table.   Alma somewhat regains composure in her face but her words are gibberish nonsequitars...almost poetic but too garbled.  Elisabet turns around and is in the foreground of a closeup 2-shot and mouths her words as if she is controlling what’s coming out of Alma’s mouth.  Her mouth does not sync with the words but it does convey that Elisabet is in control. Alma continues to struggle, trying with all her might to articulate what she wants to say. But the gibberish continues, as if two minds are battling one another and Elisabet is winning, silent and calm, while Alma strains to squeeze out meaning verbally with little luck. Then, something revealing occurs... Elisabet runs her nails down the inside of Alma’s forearm until drawing blood, then goes down and begins sucking the blood like a vampire.  Eventually Alma fights her off and begins slapping her repeatedly until it cuts to black.  I did accidentally stumble across an article by BFI (British Film Institute) that states Bergman intentionally took Elisabet’s surname (Vogler) from a film called “The Magician” involving a character who was an artist that sapped the energies of others for his artistic gain.  This makes sense because, as mentioned, Elisabet has used her mental energy to consume Alma by essentially playing the role as the mute patient. I don’t think this was an elaborate plan on Elisabet’s part, but kind of fell in her lap and she went with it.    Also, due to the meta-nature of the film (inside the film projector, characters looking into the lens, etc) is Bergman also implicating himself?  This film is very aware of itself and makes this clear several times.  If I had to guess, Bergman is also saying he is not innocent, that he is using these characters/actors to play out his dream in order to gain a better of understanding of his own psyche. Also, are we, the audience, implicated as well?  Elisabet looks at us, takes our picture, is aware of us...aren’t we placing ourselves inside these characters? We see their vulnerabilities, analyze their weaknesses, pass judgement...we use them in order to come to some type of new understanding within ourselves or for our own entertainment.  Is the nature of art itself vampiric?  In a sense, are Elisabet, Bergman, us and all artists vampiric in a way?  Absolutely.  

Then, right when you think you have all it figured out, there is another couple of scenes that make you think otherwise.  You have to take one scene at a time with Persona.  It is less of a narrative and more of a dreamlike poem.  Alma nows enters the hospital room and Elisabet is in bed in a sedated state.  Alma lifts her up slightly and says, “Nothing,  That’s how it should be”, in a comforting manner and then lays Elisabet’s head back down.  It then fades into a repeat of the Alma/Elisabet dream shot of them looking into the camera from earlier in the film, perhaps comforting us the audience, slowly waking us up after this traumatic, confusing ride we’ve been on as the film winds down... telling us it’s nothing, it’s okay, it’s how it should be.   In turn, Alma wakes up in her bedroom in the Summer house. We are not in the hospital anymore.  She peaks out and sees Elisabet packing her suitcase. Alma then begins putting all the summer outdoor chairs inside the house to pack up before she leaves.  We do not see Elisabet again.  What happened to her?  Did she just leave without saying goodbye? Alma looks into the mirror and brushes her hair back as was done in the scene with Elisabet from earlier. A translucent image of Elisabet then appears behind her as seen below.  She then smiles to herself and puts on her hat.

As she exits outside with her suitcase, there is a large concrete sculpture of a face that the camera moves to. It then flashes to a shot of Elisabet on stage as Electra. Alma walks to the bus.  It then cuts to a camera sweeping down from above on a film set to capture Elisabet in frame.  It cuts back to Alma getting on the bus to leave and the camera pans to dark rocks on the side of the road, then fades into the boy in front of the screen from the beginning of the film, reaching out to touch the screen.  The screen includes a blurry image of what looks to be Alma that soon fades completely to white...a screen within a screen.  As we, the viewers, reach out with our minds to comprehend exactly what the ending means, the shirtless boy with the glasses also reaches out to feel an image that disappears.  The film roll runs out (literally on screen), falling off the spool and the projector burns out. The End.

To conclude, I just realized that attempting to analyze this film is almost like chasing a conspiracy theory, looking for connections that may or may not exist.  I know that I missed some things.  I know that I got some things wrong, but the joy of thinking about these films is that's okay. :)

Also, in closing, I wanted to add an image that I had an immediate reaction to while looking for behind-the-scenes photos.  As you can see, it is of Bergman, Liv Ullman and Bibbi Andersson.  And as you know by now, this a very heavy, dark film on identity and internal chaos. But there is such love and sensitivity and thoughtfulness in this photo of three artists in the middle of making something extraordinary and revolutionary in cinema. It brings up some deep emotions in me because this is something I yearn for, almost like the boy touching the screen.  I do truly feel I've had small glimpses of this type of satisfaction while working on my own projects, sparking a recognition, knowing it is rare and beautiful and transcendent, providing more to aspire to.  

#cinema #persona #bergman #livullmann #bibiandersson #ingmarbergman #swedishfilm #filmanalysis #1966 #criterion collection