#(YOU MUST ASK ME DIRECTLY IN ORDER TO USE ANY OF THESE ICONS + *LISTEN TO ME* OR I WILL EXTREMELY FIRMLY SAY '''NO''')

[aph-japan]

{Credit for Chiharu, DemiSilvmon and DemiGoldvmon (also a.k.a. Gold Chibimon and Silver Chibimon) animations all go to @asakari}!

Digi-02 {+Tamers} O.C.s ~ "COF" ("Child of Faith" / "Crest of Faith")

{Digi-Face images I had requested [or edited myself] for Young Me's 02 O.C.s site.} (Yeah, most of them have connected B.S.S.M {+Luna} Inspirations.)

Hikaru (1st), "Princess Hikaru", {(partly) based on Serenity (2nd)} "SilVmon" {Silveemon}, & "GoldV" {Goldveemon} by Skye G. Chiharu {based on Chibi-Usa}, "DemiSilV" {DemiSilveemon}, & "DemiGoldV" {DemiGoldveemon} all by Kari A. BlackTailmon icons color-edited by Me; Pink Tailmon variant ("Koimon") color-edited by Me; Pink Culumon variant ("Kururumon") color-edited by Me. {Except back then we didn't really have the term "variant" to use.}

All of these I either requested or had edited BEFORE 2010.

{DO NOT Copy} {DO NOT re-post} {DO NOT EDIT} {DO NOT re-produce these specific images under ANY Circumstance}

(If you're someone who happens to remember my site, or these characters, it'd make me really happy if you reached out!)

[niqhtlord01]

Humans are weird: Shock Troops Part II: The Drop

( Please come see me on my new patreon and support me for early access to stories and personal story requests :D https://www.patreon.com/NiqhtLord Every bit helps)

If there is one thing to be said about the age of interstellar travel it would be that it be impossible without the aid of the space gate network.

The space gates comprised of several hundred ancient machines scattered around the cosmos that formed a three dimensional network allowing near instant travel between star systems normally thousands of light years apart. Many of these machines were often located in empty space at the edges of their local systems, but the one in the Hodun system was situated directly over the planet of Hodun Prime and was considered to be the gate to the inner sphere worlds of the Tempish Ascendancy.

Considered to be one of the mightiest governing bodies of the era, the Tempish Ascendancy was a highly efficiently monarchy protected by a near fanatical well-armed and trained military. Their rise to power is often credited to the fact that the Temp people controlled the only space gate for several neighboring systems. With this level of control the Tempish people expanded, either through diplomatic undertakings or military campaigns, into those other systems and quickly incorporated them into their domain. Within a couple of generations the Tempish population was the dominant species on these worlds firmly placing them under their control. From here they had expanded through the space gate; an expansion that eventually led straight to the doors of humanity.

How the war started has been debated and refuted a dozen times and then again a dozen times more, but the end result always comes to the war that erupted between humanity and the Tempish. Each time humanity felt it was on the cusp of victory the Tempish would flee to Hodun Prime and through the space gate back to their territory to recoup only to reemerge several months later and begin the war anew. This back and forth had continued for over a decade as humanity lacked the needed manpower to secure Hodun Prime and in turn launch an invasion of the inner sphere. This tide of fortune for the Tempish soon turned when humanity made peace with several other factions it had been at war with and finally could turn its full attention to the Tempish Ascendancy.

The space gate in orbit above Hodun Prime was controlled by a secure facility on the planet’s surface. Surrounded by near impregnable walls, shield towers, orbital cannons, and a legion of the best trained soldiers the Tempish military had; the facility was able to deny access to the space gate to any ship that was not Tempish. Furthermore, when humanity had in the past launched raids to secure the facility in the past the facility would send out a distress signal through the space gate to the inner sphere worlds were a waiting support fleet would respond and jump through the gate and arrive over Hodun Prime within the hour. This threat of being assaulted by both ground and space forces had deterred further attempts to secure the facility until only recently when a specialized regiment became available for deployment. -----------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------

Ripja strode into the command chamber and ran a glance along the tactical displays lining the walls. He passed between rows of consoles to either side of him each controlling a vital system to Hodun Prime’s defense; each one now blaring warning sounds and baring red marks of imminent danger. Several of the soldiers stood to salute Ripja but he waved them away. Now was not the time to stand on ceremony.

“Report” Ripja asked as he approached the center of the room. There stood a large table displaying a three dimensional hologram of the planet and the orbiting space gate currently surrounded by the high command and their aides. Several icons were scattered around the planet listing military positions, outposts, defense sectors, and more.

His second in command, Kempid, approached and tapped a data wand against the table. A rash of red icons suddenly appeared in orbit of the planet directly above the command facility they now stood in.

“Roughly ten minutes ago three human ships exited the space gate directly over us.”

Before Kempid could provide more information the entire room was filled with warning alarms.

“Enemy bombardment incoming!” one of the console operators called out.

Within moments Ripja could hear a noise reverberating throughout the entire room. It was faint and sounded distant and yet there was no mistaking it.

“Shields are holding.” Another attendant called out.

“Send the signal to the fleet in the inner sphere,” Ripja said to one of the waiting aides, “we need reinforcements now.”

With that they scurried off to the communications bank and transmitted the signal while Ripja took a closer look at the holographic display.

Fiddling with the controls he enhanced the image in orbit and focused in on the human vessels. Two were cruiser class by their ship design and the third was a troop carrier of some kind. The cruisers were using their heavy cannons to lay down a withering barrage of plasma focused directly on the shields surrounding the space gate facility.

“This doesn’t make sense.” Ripja stated, making some of the nearby command staff turn to listen as he began pacing around the table. “They must know two ships can’t breach our shields, and our guns can’t fire so long as our shields are up.” He stopped his pacing and magnified the enemy fleet once again, this time showing a live feed from one of their orbiting stealth satellites.

The two cruisers had positioned the troop carrier between them while the bombardment was ongoing and appeared to have achieved a stable orbit. As he was pondering this defensive nature he noticed through the feed several of the hangar bay doors of the troop ship slowly opening.

In silence several dozen landing craft shot out from the troop ship and began heading towards the surface. To his amazement the landing craft were not arcing away from the orbital bombardment but instead were flying directly through it; their tiny craft veering and swerving in-between the human orbital fire like insects flying through the rain.

“They must be insane!” Kempid said as he came over and saw what had enthralled Ripja.  

“Clever.” Ripja spoke as he motioned another aide over. “They’re using their orbital fire to disable our anti air capabilities while they land their forces.”

As the aide approached Ripja shrunk the hologram to only highlight the main command facility and the space directly above it. Already the red icons of the landing craft were appearing one after another as they raced towards the facility.

“Lower the shields in the south quadrant of the facility and have our orbital guns begin firing on the cruiser on the left.”

“But sir,” the aide spoke hesitantly, “that will leave that quadrant exposed to their fire.”

“They won’t change their target.” Ripja pointed to the central facility currently the focus of the human bombardment. “They need their bombardment to silence our own anti air cannons; if they deviate even for a moment it will give us a window to shoot down their landing craft.”

The aide nodded and moved aside to relay the new order while Ripja motioned Kempid over.

“Deploy all air squadrons and have them engage the human landing craft.” He said as he highlighted the leading ships. “I do not want one of them touching down on our soil unless it is a burning wreck.”

“Our pilots won’t be able to fly thro-“ Kempid began before Ripja grapped him by the throat and pulled him over to the hologram.

“The humans are flying through it!” he softly snarled at Kempid, “Get. Them. In. The. Air.”

“As you wish.” Gasped Kempid as Ripja let him go. “Command to all air wings, deploy and repel enemy landing craft.”

Within minutes a rash of new blue icons from landing fields surrounding the main facility were lighting up as dozens of combat air wings took to the skies. As he watched them take flight he also saw the shield in the south lower and the retaliatory fire commence against the human fleet.

Several cannons fired at once and impacted the left cruiser, its shields flashing bright blue in the cold void. As the retaliation strikes continued Ripja noticed that even though the fire wasn’t piercing the shields it was altering the human bombardment. The angle of the shots was being offset by the Tempish fire moving the cruiser and as a result the landing craft were thrown into a chaotic descent.

If Ripja had to guess the humans had coordinated specific flight paths to navigate the orbital bombardment fire to ensure their craft weren’t hit by friendly fire. Now however the paths were changing and the human landing craft were flying straight into their own bombardment and shattering.

Ripja let a faint smirk cross his lips as he watched the enemy icons slowly blip out one by one. Soon they will be forced to retreat and the day will be ours, he thought to himself. He watched the hologram waiting for the moment, waiting for the first ship to turn tail and flee back to the troop carrier in orbit, waiting for the enemy to flee the system in defeat, waiting for yet another achievement for his military record.

Waiting…..

Waiting….

The smirk vanished from Ripja’s face as he continued to watch in astoundment as the human landing craft did not flee, but instead sped up directly for his command facility.

Even when the Tempish air wings finally swooped in and began picking off the seemingly defenseless landing craft they still kept coming. By the count now the landing craft had suffer 37% casualties and they still had not even reached the planet’s surface.

Ripja watched in horror as even through the orbital strikes, even though the wings of fighter craft picking them off with every pass, even with another 15% of casualties the humans still kept coming until finally the moment Ripja had never thought possible happened.

The humans landed on Hodun Prime.

[thiscastielhasflown]

day three of day two of j&kcreatorfest (with @expectingtofly)— prompts: movie night or baking dean just wants to watch brokeback mountain in peace and cas is there to enjoy the emotional roller coaster ride. (2.1k) [does contain spoilers of the movie's plot, you have been warned]

"Okay choose — Midnight Cowboy or Brokeback Mountain?"

Cas looks directly at Dean who is standing in front of him holding two DVDs and smiling wide with eagerness. To celebrate and commemorate their first Pride Month official out together, both collectively decided to watch a different LGBTQ+ themed movie every night during June (if at all possible).

Rather than the Winchester/Leahy family's normal Tuesday night movie routine, Sam and Eileen were more than willing to change up their usual viewing schedule — even helping to prepare and order movies unavailable to be streamed. But sadly this night coincided with their short weekend getaway trip up to Donna's cabin for a needed change in scenery from the bleak walls of the bunker. No matter how good the movie choice was going to be for those nights, nothing compares to either couple getting some alone time together.

Cas and Dean are left alone to watch a movie in the newly renovated 'Dean Cave' — now including a larger sectional couch (to fit everyone more comfortably), an LED monogrammed neon light of Dean's nickname from Cas, 'Titan', along with new pictures hung up from a recent family photoshoot, and a new stereo sound system all set up by Dean earlier that day.

While Dean was busy with that, Cas was in the kitchen trying out a homemade sourdough pretzel dough recipe — made with his own fermented starter — along with a batch of double-chocolate chunk brownies with lines of caramel crisscrossing across the top as their movie viewing snack for the night.

"I thought we were watching the Trixie Mattel documentary."

"I know we agreed on that, but I'm more into a gay cowboy sort of mood tonight. You feel me?"

Cas blinks, "I haven't felt you yet."

"Cas, it's a figure of speech. Stay on track. Which one do you want to watch?"

"Isn't Trixie a gay Western icon as anyway?"

Dean hesitates, "Well, I would say not exactly. Maybe because of her music style and love for Dolly—"

"Parton, we've listened to her music before," Cas interrupts.

Dean smiles, "Yes we have. We've listened to Trixie too. So I guess it depends on who you ask if they’d categorize her as a modern gay Western icon in the drag business. We're sidetracked, please just pick one."

"Okay, sorry. How about the one with the happier ending."

Dean pauses to think, "I don't think either end up happy."

"Then the one where someone doesn't die."

Dean pauses again, "I...do believe someone dies in both of them."

"Then what are the differences?"

"To be honest, there really aren't that many," Dean laughs it off, "They both take place within the same 1960s setting, even though Brokeback was made in 2004. There are two main male characters in both, who aren't close in the beginning but end up so by the end. Um. The biggest difference is that Brokeback actually takes place in Western-type locations, where Midnight Cowboy setting is in New York. Is any of this helping in your decision process?"

"To be honest, not really," Cas stands up from the couch and adjusts his shirt, "Well, you go ahead and make the final decision, okay? Let me go grab the pretzels and brownies from the kitchen while you get it set up. Want a beer?"

"Yes, please. Can you bring extra cheese sauce too?" Dean answers.

"Of course, nacho or cheddar?"

A sparkle glazes over Dean's eyes as he looks at Cas, a smirk making its way across his lips, "How about both?"

"Sure can," Cas leans in to give Dean a kiss on the cheek, brushing his hand up against the other man's shoulder, "Be right back."

Dean watches Cas walk out of the room with a smug look on his face, admiring his love before bending down in front of the TV console and turning on the DVD player to give it time to boot up. He looks back and forth between either movie case, still unable to pick one over the other. Sighing, he ends up picking Brokeback Mountain, knowing deep down that Cas would most likely end up enjoy watching it more.

As he stands back up holding the DVD player remote in his hand, he hears the sound of Cas walking down in the hallway near the mancave’s door. They've been together so long at this point, but even the slightest presence of Cas will still make a butterfly giddiness erupt inside of Dean.

"Right on time as always," Dean puts down the remote after pushing 'play', grabbing the plate and beer held out to him by Cas.

He holds it up to his nose and breathes in the mingling smells of delicious food, "You really outdid yourself on this one."

Cas blushes from the compliment before pulling his own plate closer to him, breaking off a piece of the brownie and slipping it into his mouth, "Glad to know you approve."

Dean winks and takes a bite of his own, letting out a tiny moan of satisfaction from the taste, "Did you put sea salt in this?"

"I'm surprised you noticed, it was one of my secret ingredients I added in. Thought it would go well with the caramel."

"Your intuition was right, this is delicious," Dean takes another large bite and lets the flavors melt over his tongue.

At this point in the movie, Jack and Ennis sit at the bar drinking together, getting the chance to have the last bit of freedom before heading up to the mountain to work. This reminds Dean of the many times he's shared a drink with Cas before they assumed the worst would happen, losing each other. Yet those moments have now become ones he'll never forget.

The soft touch of a hand against his face pulls Dean's eyeline from the movie, Cas reeling him into a deep kiss, their lips melding into each other creating a familiar yet comfortable feeling.

Before letting anything escalate Dean pulls back and faces his head back towards the TV, reaching up to wipe off his bottom lip softly, "Watch the movie, you're going to miss a good part."

Cas pulls away and pouts, giving him one last peck on the neck before returning fully to the boundaries of his seat.

Dean turns his head back again to Cas and reaches out for his hand, weaving their fingers together, "Hey don't do that, all I wanna do is watch the movie. We can do plenty of that later."

"Fine, fine," Cas mocks, grabbing a piece of the soft pretzel and dips it in the cheese, shoving it in his mouth with a hint of annoyance.

They manage to in silence to watch the movie a little longer before Cas speaks up again, "So...what exactly is going on?"

Dean clears his throat, "Well, Jack and Ennis got their orders to go up to the mountain to go work with the sheep and they're still trying to get used to each other. Testing out the ropes, trying to work together as a team."

"Are you sure they fall in love? They definitely don't very seem into each other at the moment."

Dean takes a sip of his beer, "Love happens in mysterious ways Cas, just like us. It is never as easy as we think, especially when two people don't really get along, to begin with."

"We got along just fine, what are you talking about?"

The only thing Dean does when he hears Cas make that statement is laugh, downing another large gulp of his beer.

Cas tilts his head, "Why are you laughing?"

"Your memory must be skewed now that you're human. Don't you remember threatening my life multiple times? Trust me, you and Uriel were a couple of dicks for the majority of that early time."

"I've changed a lot since then."

Dean smiles and squeezes Cas' hand, "We've both changed a lot. Us, being here like this, is the ending we both deserve. For them, it was much harder of a situation. Their free will isn't as fluid as the ones we take for granted."

"You're not telling me—" Cas sits back with wide eyes, trying to formulate the future plot points in his head.

"I'm not going to spoil anything from the movie, you're going to have to watch it yourself to find out yourself," Dean mimics zipping his lips and turning a key to lock it, "My lips are sealed.”

A sudden vibration erupts from Dean's back, shoving his hand into it and pulling out his phone to see Sam's picture contact picture lit up (from a drunken Halloween night dressed up in a Chewbacca costume, minus the head, with a herbal cigarette dangling between his lips), swiping to answer, "Hey Sammy, what's going on?"

"Hey-uh-hi, are you busy right now?" Sam asks in a mildly frantic tone of voice over the phone.

"Well—" Dean signals to Cas to pause the movie, "It is movie night like you know, but I can talk. Everything going okay?"

"No, yeah, everything is fine. Do you know how to treat a spider bite?"

Dean coughs slightly in surprise, "Are you telling me you already managed to get a spider bite?"

Cas, overhearing the conversation holds a hand up to his mouth to help suppress the giggling he's unable to prevent himself from doing.

"Yeah, um, neither Eileen and I can remember if it's supposed to be a cold or warm compress."

Dean shakes his head and lets out a chuckle, "Did you just drunkenly call me, to ask me, how to treat a spider bite less than 24 hours after leaving here?"

"Yes Dean, do you have the answer or not?"

"Go get some ice and makeshift ice pack. For the swelling. Any other questions?"

Sam pauses not answering right away, Dean hears the sound of rustling and clanking of ice in the background, "No that should be it. Thank you."

"Yep, you're welcome. Bye," Dean hangs up before Sam can say anything else.

"I'm sorry for all of the distractions tonight Dean, I really am. I know how much you wanted to watch this movie," Cas puts a hand on his shoulder, slightly massaging at the tense muscle underneath Dean's favorite Led Zeppelin shirt.

"It's fine Cas, we can stop the movie if you want. Maybe pick it back up tomorrow?"

"Why can't we continue watching it? If we have to pause again, then we pause again. Anyway, you have me interested in learning what will happen.”

“Alright, we’ll continue.”

Thankfully, no one else bothers them for the rest of the movie. Even when Cas was confused in certain sections, he reminded quiet and attentively watched, quickly becoming attached to the characters and the blossoming (and losing) love between them. When the credits begin to roll, Dean looks over to see Cas crying, tears streaming down his face, and biting on his bottom lip to possibly contain his emotions.

"Cas, what's wrong?"

"The jacket...Jack was the one who took the jacket that Ennis thought he forget on the mountain. He took it and kept it for all those years. And now...with Jack gone..." Cas leans in towards Dean, who wraps his arms around his shoulder in comfort, pressing little kisses on the top of his head. He lets Cas cry, holding onto him tight.

When Cas feels ready enough to pull away, Dean reaches up to wipe the tears from his cheeks, "What’s wrong Cas?"

"It just reminds me of us. When you kept my coat, the symbolism of keeping an article of clothing when your loved one is gone. In this case—" Cas sucks in a deep breath, bottom lip quivering, "Ennis lost Jack, his soulmate. But no matter how many times you've lost me, I've always come back. I wish that could have been the same for them."

"Oh, babe..." Dean pulls Cas into a kiss, strong and supportive, "They got to share their love while they could, and even though things could have been different, that was the ending destined for the."

"Why couldn’t they have ended up together?"

"Just how their cards were played, nothing we can change about it.”

Cas sighs, rubbing away his remaining leftover tears, "This really is a goddamn bitch of a unsatisfactory situation."

Dean can't help himself from laugh out of happiness, "That was a pretty good usage of that phrase, glad to know you picked up on it."

"Oh, it's going to be my go-to now, along with 'I wish I knew how to quit you’."

"Sounds to me like you liked the movie. Well, I do have an idea," Dean stands up from the couch and reaches for Cas' hand, pulling him up to a standing position, "How about we go start something? Sound good to you?"

[wexarethewalkingxdead]

Mun Meme

All time favorite fc? Katie Holmes.

All time least favorite fc? Sebastian Stan. 

A fc you wish had more resources? Madison Lintz.

Favorite connection type? (i.e enemies, exes, fwbs, childhood best friends, etc.) slow burn.

Least favorite connection type? (i.e enemies, exes, fwbs, childhood best friends, etc.) cheating or jealousy.

Indie or groups? Indie.

Twitter, Tumblr, Discord, or other? Tumblr.

Favorite plot you’ve ever rp’d out? Anything with Caryl. 

Least favorite plot you’ve ever rp’d out? Anything with jealousy.

Best experience you’ve had in a rp? Being able to tell Tenley that the way she works with other people won’t work with me. She was so receptive that it made me really want to work hard at communication and setting my boundaries with others. 

Worst experience you’ve had in a rp? When someone I thought I could trust turned their back on me and made me feel as if I did something wrong when I hadn’t. 

Do you prefer to plot before you start writing or do you prefer seeing the chemistry? Plotting is a must to nail down the gist of a plot, but to continue on with the ship, there has to be chemistry. 

Biggest rp pet peeve? Over formatting. Especially the use of several different fonts. 

Favorite rp genre? Angst/Fluff.

Least favorite rp genre? Fantasy.

Do you prefer writing canons or ocs? Canons.

How do you find inspo for your ocs? Watching their source material and listening to music.

Do you make new characters for every rp or keep the same characters when joining rps? I have set muses that I use depending on what muses I’m playing opposite. 

Favorite ship you’ve ever written? Caryl. 

Favorite ship you’re currently writing? Daryl & Lori. 

Least favorite ship you’ve ever written? I don’t have one. If I don’t like it, I won’t ship it. 

Do you make your rp buddies your friends, or is it strictly writing? Friends all the way. Especially my besties! 

Tell us about your current fav character to write. Carol Peletier is my favorite muse to write. Followed closely by Rick Grimes. 

Do you dislike any of the characters you’ve written in the past now? No. 

Favorite thing about the rpc now? The friends that I’ve made.

Least favorite thing about the rpc now? I dislike that communication is seen as a negative thing instead of a positive. 

What songs do you listen to while writing, if any? Whatever is in my Spotify likes. 

Do you make playlists for your characters? Not unless I’m doing an ask meme that is directly related to my muses and music. 

Do you make Pinterest boards for your characters? No.

Tell us about the character you’ve had for the longest. Carol is the muse I’ve had the longest. She’s the first person that I really clicked with on The Walking Dead. I see a lot of myself in her, and she’s my inspiration. 

Tell us about the most recent character you’ve picked up. It’s for the Law & Order: SVU fandom, but I’ve not had the opportunity to write as him yet. But it is A.D.A. / Det. Dominic “Sonny” Carisi. 

Do you prefer 2012 tumblr rp or 2020 tumblr rp? 2020 because I wasn’t around in 2012.

Do you prefer gif icons, small/medium gifs, large gifs, or static icons? static mostly. 

In your opinion, what’s the best thing to happen to the rpc? When plotting and roleplaying turns into friendships. Some of the best I’ve ever had are because of roleplaying. 

What about the worst thing to happen to the rpc? That aesthetics mean more to some than writing. This is a writing hobby. 

Stolen from: @lunarruled

[bb8sworld]

— litoreus, part i

pairing: god of the sea!obi-wan kenobi x reader

word count: 7k (*sweats nervously*)

a/n: greetings, and welcome to the first part of my new series! i don’t know how better to summarize this story than by saying that kara (@karasong) said “neptune is a dilf” then val (@milleniumvalcon) said a statue of poseidon looked like obi-wan, and it spiraled from there. so many thanks to the discord for the idea of this poseidon!obi au.

-- ☆ -- ☆ -- ☆ -- ☆ -- 

Destiny. Fate. Will. Luck. Fortune. Chance. Predestination.

Words Obi-Wan Kenobi was intimately familiar with in a multitude of different tongues, languages, dialects, and scripts. Words that have altered in connotation throughout history but have remained steadfast in their use. Words that he didn’t believe in but knew nonetheless. As someone who has been around as long as he has, and as someone who knows the inner workings of the universe and was created shortly after it’s conception, he’s aware that the ideas of Fate and Destiny were innately… human. Something clung onto by ordinary people who dwelled on the Earth and needed reassurance for an occurrence in their lives or ideas blamed for any wrongdoing that came their way.

No, Obi-Wan Kenobi didn’t believe in Fate, Destiny, Fortune, or whatever other terms may be used to describe these phenomena. Everything had an order, everything had a purpose, and things didn’t happen “by chance” or “just because.” They happened because they were supposed to, not because some outside force separate from the godly beings decided to intervene. As a godly being himself, he thinks he would know if there were outside forces beyond him and his fellow gods having any say in the universe.

One of the many perks of being a god, he supposed.

Being a god was tricky business, and it was a job that often didn’t pay in kind. From his very creation, Obi-Wan had struggled with this role of his, from who he was, who he was meant to be, and how he was supposed to act.

Despite being named Obi-Wan Kenobi upon “birth,” he has gone by a plethora of different names throughout his immortal life thus far—such as Olokun, Lir, Hapi, Poseidon, Neptune, Enbilulu, and Njord, just to name a few. So many names to describe one being who ruled, guarded, and protected the seas and oceans. Each one attuned to the civilization in which the name originated from, but all converging together to describe the same god. And from it came an outpouring of love and awe. It was flattering, to say the least, that humans at one point cared so much about him that they would craft pieces of artwork dedicated to him. Or how they would construct temples of worship for him so that they might have a place to pray for safe voyages, either for themselves or loved ones. It made him feel good and loved and appreciated and a whole litany of positive affirmations that humans use to describe this gooey feeling nestled within him.

Obi-Wan loved to help humanity and had always been infatuated with them—their cultures, lifestyles, relationships, emotions, everything. And any time he helped, he got to learn a little bit more about what made humans so human. Sometimes when he did intervene in their matters and was praised for it, he couldn’t help but wonder if that was what it felt like to be human. To be loved, appreciated, adored, wanted.

But being a god wasn’t always so pleasant and flattering.

Sometimes, if a storm churned in the ocean and caused a shipwreck, his name would be cursed at in such hatred and despair as grief overtook the humans. It stung and was incredibly painful to hear, but unfortunately, he didn’t always have control over those situations. Whenever this happened, he would wonder if the feelings he felt were the same ones humans did in response to these occurrences—unloved, hated, disgusted, guilty, remorseful.

Obi-Wan really, truly wanted to take suffering away from the very humans who had fascinated him for centuries, but that’s not the way the universe works. Matters of life and death were not his jurisdiction, even if either of these happened in the blue waves below. It fell to the god of the underworld who was the overseer of death, so therefore Obi-Wan’s hands were tied. He only had control over the voyage's journey, not the destination of the passengers, meaning he was often forced to watch as lives were taken at sea and his name was sworn against in wrath.

But like with all things brought to the attention of humanity, people move on. And unfortunately for Obi-Wan, as times changed and new beliefs gained traction, that meant humans moved on from their old ways and religions—from the other gods and from him.

Despite his presence once being well-known and called upon in times of need and worship and gratitude, his importance dwindled in the eyes of the humans until he was all but nonexistent. His very being and all his life’s work were boiled down to a name that was somehow both him yet not him, written offhandedly in a history textbook for children to be aware of for a test but to forget immediately afterward. His life became a story sometimes told in a mythology book or two, often censored and abridged for audiences to “understand better.” He became a name people were familiar with but knew little about.

And so humanity had moved on from him, but he hadn’t moved on from humanity.

He was still endlessly intrigued by everything they were about and everything they had to offer, but because of his godly status, he never dared to go down and explore for himself, despite other gods having done so for one reason or another. And every day he was a little more tempted to go down and see what was new and exciting. Every time he saw another god leave to head down, he got a little bit closer to asking if he could join.

That being said, he did stay connected where he could. Throughout all of human history, art had been made in his name, and sometimes he would clear his mind and connect to those works as he did back in the ancient days and listen in on what was being said. Sometimes he caught snippets of stories from those who stood nearby. Sometimes he heard tales of his own life being taught to a younger generation in museums. But it had been a long time since he heard anyone talk to him. And despite his lack of belief in Fate or Destiny or whatever you wanted to call it, he couldn’t help but wish for the times to change and for one person to talk to him instead of about him. He wished that someone would answer his pathetic call and just talk to him.

So imagine his surprise when one day someone picked up.

At first, he thought it to be an accident. No way had someone genuinely believed he was real and manifested the powers to protect them when they traveled at sea, nor had someone directly contacted him in years for any reason. With all the new methods of transportation and exploration in the seas and oceans, most people went on those devices willingly without saying a quick prayer to him for the waters to be safe. Which was fine, really. He knew his place. Doesn’t mean he didn’t feel a little pang of hurt every time he saw a cruise ship head out or people go boating or children learn how to canoe.

But no… this call was different. It wasn’t a history lesson, or someone singing to themselves near a statue of him, or just some background clutter. No, this one felt different. And so, Obi-Wan sat on the floor of his room, closed his eyes, and began to slip into a meditative state in order to hear the call better.

“—maybe… we hang the light a foot more to the right? And tilt it just a tiny bit backward… there. Perfect! Look at you, Poseidon—or do you prefer Neptune—whatever, it doesn’t matter. But look at you, all cleaned up, restored, illuminated, and ready to go on display when the exhibit opens tomorrow. Let’s hope the visitors appreciate you in your polished state. Are you ready?”

Ah, so a new exhibit was going up featuring, presumably, a statue of him made by one of the ancient Greeks or Romans he oversaw so many centuries ago. He was about to tune out the voice and slip out of his meditative state when the voice picked up again.

“—god I must sound crazy. Just look at me, talking to a statue of a god who doesn’t even exist.” A beat. “I wish you did though, you seem like you’d be better company than some of the other people around here. Wishful thinking, eh, Neptune? Or… Poseidon… ugh, this is what happens when it’s an ancient Greek and Roman exhibit, there are too many double names—”

And off the voice went on a tangent about finishing up illuminating each of the iconic pieces of artwork and organizing pamphlets about the new exhibit in the information stands. From the sounds of it, the person behind the voice presumably worked at some museum where a new exhibit of him and the other gods in his life was being put together.

Maybe… maybe he could go down and visit it sometime. At least to see the art he hadn’t seen in many years. And if he happened to stumble across the worker with the voice he just tuned into, then he’d consider that a happy accident despite that very claim going against his beliefs about Fate. But how could he head down from his home in the clouds without raising suspicion among the other gods? He was notorious for keeping his distance once humanity forgot him, instead preferring to observe from afar and rejecting any offers to head down to the land.

The answer came in the form of Anakin Skywalker—also known as Camulus, Svetovid, Teutates, Ares, Mars, Odin, and Montu, to name a few—the god of war and the manifestation of the spirit of battle. He was a frequent visitor of the land and was undoubtedly Obi-Wan’s best friend. Not to mention, he regularly asked Obi-Wan to join him in hopes of getting him “out of his hermit lifestyle and back to the land of the living,” to quote Anakin, but Obi-Wan had either made excuses or flat out rejected his offer. But maybe it was high time he said yes.

With his plan in mind, now all he had to do was wait for Anakin to approach him and ask. And sure enough, just a few earth days later, Anakin showed up outside of Obi-Wan’s room with a cheeky smile on his face and a “ready to be done with being a recluse?” comment as expected. And though Anakin wouldn’t ever admit it to Obi-Wan’s face, Obi-Wan could see the true concern reflecting in his eyes alongside the expectation of getting rejected. Typically, there would be a pain in his eyes following each rejection, likely stemming from the wedge that sat between them because, for all that they were best friends—brothers even—they didn’t always see eye-to-eye on godly matters. From this came the worry that always sat at the corner of every conversation because Obi-Wan (admittedly so) had been self-isolating from humanity and became a stickler for following the rules of the gods. Contrast that to Anakin who was laxer in his ways and open to embracing his feelings and attachments.

But that concern and pain would end today. Obi-Wan was tired of feeling sorry for himself and hiding away up here and being lonely despite never actually being alone.

He was ready for adventure again.

And so, it was with a resounding sigh and faked exasperation that he said, “Oh, alright.”

If he took a little pleasure in being able to cause such a shocked facial expression on Anakin’s face, then that was for him to know. Though, it was a moment later when Anakin’s face split into a wide grin that he felt any lingering doubts about going down to earth dissipate. Yes, this was the right choice. If not for himself, then for his relationship with Anakin.

The act of getting down to earth was a rather easy task consisting of exiting through a golden archway that teleported them to a location of their choosing. Obi-Wan hopped on Anakin’s coordinates and the two reappeared in a forest Obi-Wan was unfamiliar with, the lights and sounds of a nearby town being their guide on the trek.

Before stepping into the hustle and bustle of the town, Anakin and Obi-Wan had “normalized” themselves from their usual glowing, almost angelic appearance into something more humane and easily looked over, particularly nondescript and unassuming, using the powers they possessed. The less attention they brought to themselves, the better. It was safer not to risk the chance of revealing themselves. Back in historic and ancient times, it was more common for them to fall into crowds of people undercover and interact, getting to know and understand the circumstances humanity faced up close and personal instead of from a distance. But that had all changed once Obi-Wan, Anakin, and the fellow gods above all became characters in a history book.

Nonetheless, Obi-Wan treasured this one act of using his powers for fun instead of remaining dormant and simply controlling the seas in the same patterns and cycles. He looked over at Anakin, wanting to see if he was ready to head into the streets, when he was surprised to see Anakin’s eyes already looking his way, a smug smile tugging at his lips.

“Anakin,” Obi-Wan sighed, exasperation smothering the very word, “What is it?”

“Finally decided on getting a haircut?” Anakin replied, laughter playing on the edge of the question. Obi-Wan rolled his eyes at the question. Yes, usually when he came down to earth he sported a longer hairstyle—a godly mullet, as Anakin oh so lovingly called it, business in the front and the only fun you know how to have in the back—but times had changed, and Obi-Wan had figured it was time for him to as well, at least a little bit. So he did. It was less of a haircut and more of the decision to manifest with shorter hair, unlike a certain someone standing next to him who had apparently decided the opposite.

“Strong words coming from someone who’s sporting a mullet themselves,” he quipped back, turning his attention forward and beginning the trek to the town. Affronted was the only word to describe how Anakin reacted, cemented in his shock, before he shook out of his state and rushed to catch up with his friend, secretly happy to see Obi-Wan engaging in their familiar back-and-forth.

“It is not a mullet, Obi-Wan,” Anakin refuted. “It’s stylish and helps me blend in.”

Obi-Wan gives a quiet hmm in acknowledgment before replying, “Whatever you say, Anakin.”

And so the trek continued until they found themselves in a bustling town with car horns honking, people shoving themselves through crowds, and bright lights illuminating around them. It was both entirely overwhelming yet hauntingly intriguing. For as much as he wanted to look away from the circus before him, Obi-Wan couldn’t stop admiring and absorbing all the information thrown at him. Of course he was aware of how the earth and humanity had progressed from his perch in the clouds, but while it’s one thing to hear and know of something, it’s another thing to witness and experience that which you had heard so much about.

Through his daze, he’s just barely able to keep up with Anakin as they take to the sidewalks, Anakin walking in an apparent familiar cadence as if he already knows where he’s heading and knows the trek well. Perhaps there’s a destination Anakin frequents on his jaunts down to earth? Maybe Obi-Wan should’ve asked what Anakin had in mind before he agreed to this excursion, but it’s too little too late for that now. But still, asking the destination of their slightly fast walking couldn’t hurt, right?

“You know, Anakin,” he starts, “You never told me where you were intending for us to go today.”

“Oh,” Anakin flounders for a moment, as if not expecting the question. Curious. “I, uh, well I figured we’d go to the local art museum.”

“Really?�� Obi-Wan is unconvinced, but plays along anyway, only the slightest bit of suspicion seeping into his tone.

“Well… I know you love learning and appreciating the more—how do you phrase it?—refined and civilized things in life,” Anakin jokes, “So I figured we could go to an art museum together.”

Well wasn’t that just the shock of the century. Art museums were far from Anakin’s usual environment. Why? Anakin was loud, brash, and impulsive, constantly itching to go out and meet action head-on, act now think later, a complete contrast to the usually quiet, serene, and contemplative nature that art museums held dear. And for all that Obi-Wan loved Anakin, there were certain environments he would never dare to be with him, art museums being one of them. But, considering Obi-Wan had agreed to join and Anakin actually seemed somewhat eager to go, he figured he could indulge Anakin just this once.

Besides, Obi-Wan figured there must’ve been some ulterior motive at play here, and if he played his cards right, he could figure it out.

“An art museum?” he asks casually, hoping maybe he’ll get a hint of this mysterious motive.

But Anakin immediately picks up on the slight curiosity in his words. “Yeah, why? You don’t want to go?”

“No, I wouldn’t mind going, I just didn’t know you’d be interested in that.”

“Well, people change, Obi-Wan. Maybe I’ve taken a page from your book and learned how to be stuffy and grandfatherly.”

Rude, Obi-Wan muses, but an unlikely story. He leaves it at that and instead asks Anakin what else he had on the itinerary for the day as they walk toward the museum. Apparently, the art museum is the highlight of the day, though Anakin does promise that if Obi-Wan would be open to indulging in human food—something that honestly means nothing to them because they can’t be satisfied on non-godly food—there’s a cafe not too far from the museum that they can hang out and people watch at. All-in-all, not a bad day. Could’ve been way worse given how differently he and Anakin define “a fun day out.”

Eventually, they do make it to the art museum in one piece, and Obi-Wan immediately takes note of how quaint it looks against the glamour of the surrounding town. Less bright colors and flashes of light on the exterior but still a commanding presence with its masonry that almost demands you to look at it and compels you to go inside.

They stand in the queue to get tickets and go inside, but once they do, Anakin starts walking off before Obi-Wan can even grab a map of the museum. He manages to snag one and just barely finds Anakin in the crowd of the entry foyer, leaving Obi-Wan to trail behind a couple of feet once he catches up as Anakin guides him to the Medieval and Renaissance art exhibit. They’re only a few feet inside the exhibit when someone calls out “Ani!” and the two whip their heads around in-sync to the sound of the voice, a chorus of shushing surrounding them.

It’s a short woman who approaches the pair, a charming smile on her lips and a glint in her eyes. She immediately goes to embrace Anakin and Obi-Wan thinks: ah, ulterior motive discovered. He looks at her professional attire, the low but elegant bun her brown hair is in, and the name tag he just barely caught a glimpse of and easily deduces that she must be a staff member here. Maybe once the two finally release each other Obi-Wan can say his greetings and find out more.

Luckily, she seems to be the sensible one between the two and releases Anakin after making eye contact with Obi-Wan, as if just now realizing that Anakin came with company. She tries to be blasé about the overly friendly interaction with Anakin by plowing forward in her introduction, holding her hand out for a handshake. Very interesting, indeed.

“I’m Padmé Amidala, one of the curators for this exhibit in the museum. You must be one of Anakin’s friends,” she greets. Obi-Wan takes her hand and gives it a slight shake. Her grip is firm but not tight, giving just enough of her away for him to understand that she is a person to be respected and in awe of but not feared. It’s easy to begin understanding how her dynamic with Anakin works.

“Pleasure to meet you. I’m Obi-Wan Kenobi.”

“Oh, so you’re the famous Obi-Wan. Anakin has told me so much about you.” Obi-Wan gives a side-eyed glance to Anakin, noting the innocent expression he wears and wondering just how much he’s revealed to Padmé.

“Interesting, he hasn’t mentioned you at all,” Obi-Wan responds, giving them both a teasing smile in some semblance of reassurance that he isn’t offended by this fact.

However, Obi-Wan can feel the lingering hesitation and slight nerves radiating off of Anakin, which is an unsurprising development. Gods aren’t meant to have deep bonds with humans. Loose friendships are typically accepted with only slight frowns, but once it strays into a tight-knit bond and attachments form, especially romantic ones, they’re frowned upon greatly. And between the two of them, Anakin is less of a stickler for the rules, instead preferring to live by his own interpretations and caveats to the rules—which means Obi-Wan knows that Anakin fears this friendship of his with Padmé will be scrutinized and berated.

Which… okay, is a valid concern considering Obi-Wan’s devotion to the rules, but Obi-Wan hates to be a snitch on his best friend. And as long as he doesn’t witness any actions that would confirm a more serious relationship, particularly romantic, Obi-Wan is willing to turn his eye to the obvious heart eyes and lingering touches the two share. Can’t tattle if there’s room for doubt and question.

He just hopes Anakin knows this himself. And he especially hopes that Anakin hasn’t told Padmé that he’s a god.

He decides to shake off these thoughts and turn the conversation to safer territory to try and ease Anakin some. “So, Padmé, I take it you work here. What is it that you do?”

Immense relief hits him like a tidal wave from Anakin with happiness trailing behind like seafoam as the wave recedes. Not wanting to make any open comments about Anakin’s feelings and potentially clue Padmé into their more than human nature, he settles for a quick moment of eye contact before focusing back on Padmé.

“I’m one of the museum curators here,” she confirms, “I mainly specialize with art in the Medieval and Renaissance exhibit as well as our Impressionist pieces.” She pauses to size him up, silently scrutinizing him and his reactions. Whatever it is she finds must satisfy her, because she continues as if nothing happened, “Have you been here before, Obi-Wan? We recently got some new pieces on loan from some collectors and other museums that are worth checking out.”

“This is my first time, actually,” Obi-Wan starts before Anakin jumps in, quick on his verbal heels, “Right! And I was going to show him around. Make sure he visits the highlights at least.”

Instantly Padmé’s face drops ever so slightly at the idea of this conversation ending and her parting from Anakin, but she composes herself well. But Obi-Wan would be blind not to notice Anakin’s disappointment too, so he decides to take matters into his own hands and says, “Though I’m more than capable of wandering on my own if you’d rather stay and chat with Padmé, Anakin.”

“Are you sure, Obi-Wan? I was the one who invited you out after all—”

“Nonsense, I’ll be more than fine on my own. Maybe then I’ll actually get to appreciate the art and read the descriptions like the grandfather you think I am,” he jokes. “I’ll meet you back by the entrance in a couple hours. Pleasure meeting you, Padmé, I hope we meet again soon.”

And just like that, Obi-Wan is off and he no longer has to be surrounded by the obvious desire for something more between the two that was only stifled from being acted on by his presence. When he’s a good distance away, he decides to stop for a moment and actually look at the map in his hand, and he’s pleasantly surprised by just how many exhibits, art movements, and cultural regions are housed in this art museum. With the knowledge that he may not be able to knock out every exhibit in one visit, he decides to make his rounds to the ones that intrigue him the most. 

He starts in the African Art section, admiring the ceramics and textiles created in various regions of Africa, before moving onto the Chinese bronzes, ceramics, and jades exhibition and it’s next-door Japanese screens and paintings exhibit. He’s thinking of swinging to modern and contemporary works when he looks at the map in his hands and eyes the Ancient Greek and Roman Art exhibit, reluctance setting in. Obi-Wan always feels a bit of hesitancy whenever admiring ancient creations because he remembers who the artists were and that fact makes him feel old and worn down in ways he never expected gods to feel like. Besides, wouldn’t it be narcissistic of himself to go and admire the times of old and perhaps even stumble upon a work of him?

Caution thrown to the wind, Obi-Wan decides to make his way to the Ancient Greek and Roman Art exhibit. With his head held high, he spots the tall glass doors to the exhibit and opens them slowly before stepping inside and almost immediately being hit by a whirlpool of nostalgia. Just seeing the vases, plates, coins, cups, relics, and statues on display make him nearly stumble on his feet. The faces staring back at him on the head busts by the entrance are so eerily similar to those of his friends that he feels his breathing stutter for a moment. It’s true that back in those times the gods were more… open to visiting earth. Back then they were more willing and able to interact with humanity and be treated kindly in return. Though, the stories of their escapades and interactions always seemed to be skewed and embellished among all civilizations.

But one thing that transpires over almost every civilization who ever believed in the gods and goddess that Obi-Wan is connected to is that they managed to nail one key feature of the gods in their stories: their extremities. Because at the end of the day, that’s what the gods all were—the best and worst of humanity, but maximized.

Obi-Wan prefers not to think about that fact and how, subsequently, he feels more than humans do and also has an awareness for the feelings of the other gods.

No, best not to dwell on that.

He decides that perhaps it’s best to move beyond the entryway and stop clogging up the doorway with his presence, so he begins to move through the exhibit, stopping every now and then to admire a certain work of art. By the time he’s gone through about half the exhibit, the sting of seeing those he knows etched onto bronze or marble is hurting less; he’s thinking he can finally start to appreciate the art more when he hears a voice.

But it’s not just any voice, it’s a voice he recognizes. And it’s not Anakin, nor is it Padmé. It’s a voice he’s heard before but he doesn’t know the person it belongs to. It’s familiar enough that he clings to it, scrambling through past and recent memories until finally it clicks:

The voice he’s hearing is the voice that recently talked to him via one of the statues commemorated in his honor.

And just like that, he turns his head around and begins to look around for the source. It’s like he’s a ship lost at sea and this voice is his guiding light home, if only he could find it. It takes a couple more seconds before finally his gaze settles on you, and it’s as if sunlight just burst into the room. He notices your eyes first and the way they shimmer with happiness as you wander through the exhibit, admiring the artworks yourself. But then he catches your smile as you turn to talk to one of the nearby patrons and the very sight of it makes him feel as if the world has just opened wide, opportunities he’s never considered laying out on many paths before him.

He takes a moment to shake himself out of his daze to properly take in your appearance. Judging on your outfit and the name tag that he just barely can’t make out and read, you are obviously a worker here, perhaps a curator like Padmé. You’re wandering the exhibit with an air of pride surrounding you, as if you’re happy that so many people are taking the time to come and appreciate the art before them. Everything about you is intriguing and he wants to introduce himself to you before this high feeling surrounding him comes crashing down and he goes back up to the clouds to spend out his immortal days alone and separated again from humanity.

Just as he’s about to take a few steps in your direction, he feels a harsh force of another body hit him in the side, nearly sending him toppling over onto a head bust next to him. He’s bracing for impact, praying that this piece of art somehow is a counterfeit and doesn’t cost more than he can even fathom (seriously, exactly how bad is inflation right now?) when he feels hands on his shoulders that push him back onto his feet. His hands immediately latch onto the ones grabbing him as he steadies himself. One he’s back on solid ground, he looks up to go thank whoever caught him when his heart leaps to his throat and he momentarily stops breathing because who else would be his savior than his guiding light?

He barely has time to even admire your speed and strength before you’re talking to him.

“Are you okay?” you ask and oh how he wants to hear more and more and more of your angelic voice. It’s as if you’re a siren, tempting him closer and closer to you until finally he is caught in your eyes and dancing among the many stars that twinkle in them. But suddenly he flushes with the realization that he’s been staring way too long and oh dear this is quite a messy first impression he really needs to redeem himself with something coherent and get this boat sailing back on course—

“Uh, y-yeah. Yeah. Fine. I’m fine. Never better, truly.” Shipwreck. What an utter shipwreck this is for him. Maker, he’s making a fool of himself. Amid his internal despair, he hears you giggle at his fumbling and his heart starts beating faster.

“Poseidon right?”

And suddenly his heart stops, his mouth drops every so slightly, and his face whitens. How have you possibly figured him out so quickly?

“What?” Is about all he can muster in response.

“Or Neptune, I guess, depending on which you prefer.” He’s silent. Awestruck. But you must pick up on the confusion and awe on his face because you elaborate, “You know… the sculpture right over there? The big marble one with a man holding a trident? The one you were staring at before you nearly crashed into this poor head bust of Zeus and broke this priceless piece of historic artwork? Really, what did the poor guy ever do to you? Surely he doesn’t deserve his head getting cracked open a second time.”

Oh thank the Maker, you were just referring to the art in the room. Which perhaps he should’ve accounted for instead of internally freaking out because he did willingly enter the Ancient Greek and Roman Art exhibit of the museum.

But you take his silent relief as continued confusion because you are suddenly rambling, “You know, because Zeus already had his head cracked open once by Hephaestus after Zeus swallowed a pregnant Metis and gave birth to Athena through his forehead?” You laugh awkwardly before plowing on, “Maybe I should stop talking now, sorry, sometimes I just go off about all these old myths, I just think they’re fascinating and—sorry, I’m doing it again aren’t I?”

He laughs in response to your weak joke and hearty explanation, and he starts to feel a little less wound up and nervous when he notices that you’re feeling the same way.

“No, no, it’s alright! It was very clever. Funny too,” he comments. The two of you share a smile and simply stare into each others’ eyes for a couple moments. But then he begins to worry that he’s making you uncomfortable by maintaining eye contact for longer than normal—except what is “normal”? How much has human etiquette changed since he’d last been on earth? Is this conversation already doomed? He decides to take the gamble anyway and clears his throat as his eyes flicker around the exhibit, trying to think of what else to say to you, before he lands on your name tag (what a pretty name you have) and he says the first thought that comes to mind.

“So, you work here then?” Not the best conversation starter, but it’s something, he supposes. Maker, what is wrong with him? He’s never been so nervous in his entire immortal life, but one conversation with you and suddenly he’s falling victim to all the nerves and anxieties of humans, but dialed up beyond a 10. Gods really are the maximization of humanity’s best and worst. What an awful time to be living this fact. Thankfully, you respond and break him out of his spiraling worries.

“Oh, yeah. I’ve been working here for the past couple of years as one of the curators. I actually worked on this exhibit. I helped organize and select all the pieces in the exhibit, arrange restorations and displays, and record all the art you see here. I’ll admit it’s rather hard selecting which art pieces would fit best with the message we’re trying to convey, not to mention the availability of many pieces of art also plays a difficult role, but I like to think it paid off in the end. There’s something special about all the pieces of art here,” you suddenly pause in your speech before walking over to the very Poseidon statue you thought Obi-Wan had been looking at earlier, and he follows, quick on your heels.

You continue, “Like, this statue of Poseidon, for example. It traveled through an ocean of time, across several continents, through several restorations, all to be right here, right now, in this very moment for you and I to admire.” You let out a sigh that Obi-Wan can only describe as wistful. “I can only wonder how it looked when the artist was creating it and when it was first unveiled.”

He wishes how he could tell you about when he first laid eyes on this statue of himself he had nearly burst into tears, sending a light rain over the agora from the intensity of his emotions. But he suppresses the urge. He wasn’t supposed to reveal himself to humanity, and even if he did let something slip, what are the odds that you’d ever believe him? The two of you are not close, and you never will be. His livelihood as a god forbids it.

Still…

There’s something about the sparkle in your eye as you wistfully look at the art, as if looking at it for the first time despite having seen it countless times before, and your passion for the ancient classics that he finds compelling. Initial literal-sweeping-off-his-feet encounter aside, there’s something about you that draws him to you.

You’re entirely intriguing to him, and he can’t quite pinpoint why. Not entirely, at least. It doesn’t hurt that he finds your ramblings of history and art to be adorable. Not that he’s admitting to anything more than simple infatuation at first sight. He wishes he had the chance to get to know you better beyond the confines of this Ancient Greek and Roman exhibit. But the two of you lead entirely different lives and he has to let this go.

But, he can allow himself this one instance of normal human interaction.

“I’m sure it must have been a sight to behold given how important the gods were to the Ancient Greeks and Romans,” he comments.

“Exactly!” Despite being a curator here and knowing the rules of the exhibits like the back of your hand, you are shushed by a nearby patron at your happy exclamation. Obi-Wan laughs softly at the embarrassed look on your face.

“Guess that’s my cue to switch topics,” you joke. Obi-Wan smiles kindly at you before you continue, “Basics then. I didn’t catch your name.”

“I didn’t throw it,” he winks at your unimpressed look. Luckily for him though, it cracks and transforms into a brilliant smile as the two of you share a laugh. No harm done.

“Okay, smartass, I’ll rephrase: what’s your name?” you ask. “Not all of us are lucky enough to talk with people who wear name tags.”

“Alright then, since you asked so nicely, I’m Obi-Wan. And it’s a pleasure to meet you.” He holds out a hand for you, which you easily take and give a shake. A slight zing runs through his body at the slight contact, his hand still buzzing even after you two let go.

“Pleasure to meet you as well. Is this your first time here?” you inquire.

“Ah, yes, my friend decided to take me,” Obi-Wan starts, but he can’t help but grumble out, “I think he’s a frequent visitor.”

You let out a giggle at his grumpy tone. “You make it seem as if that’s a bad thing. Surely it’s not that god-awful here?”

“The company sure makes it better,” slips out before he can catch the words, but he’s not blind to the pleased look on your face. Huh. Interesting. “I never thought he was interested in art museums but—”

“Obi-Wan!” Cuts through the air, loud and brash and diluted with the slightest hint of concern, immediately followed by shushing by other patrons. Obi-Wan sighs as he recognizes the voice of Anakin.

“—it would appear that he still hasn’t picked up on museum etiquette despite all those visits.”

You rub his arm gently, a look of playful sympathy on your face as you tell him, “How awful it must be to have a friend that cares about your whereabouts.”

But he’s suddenly finding it very hard to even pretend to be annoyed when you’re touching him with such care. All too soon, your hand is off his arm as Anakin makes himself known, sidling up right to Obi-Wan and immediately grasping his elbow.

“Where on earth were you? We were supposed to meet half an hour ago. I waited for you! And here I was thinking you were the responsible one—” Anakin is cut off by you attempting to diffuse the situation.

“I believe that’s my fault. I kept him here talking to me and I held him up,” you turn back to Obi-Wan, a bright smile on your lips and the stars twinkling once more in your eyes. Maker, if he didn’t know any better he really would think he was looking at the sun, his beacon of light. “It was lovely talking to you, Obi-Wan. Maybe you could come again soon and we can continue this conversation?”

“Of course.” It’s his automatic response, no thoughts, questions, or worries in mind. You just look so hopeful and he’s once again a ship in the night, setting out to sail the high seas but hoping to return to again safely, guided by your light. He can only hope Anakin doesn’t pick up on his infatuation with you.

“Great! I’ll let you two go then. Nice meeting you!” And just like the wind, you’re gone, moving on to other patrons and other works of art, sharing your knowledge and stories and passion with other lucky souls. Maybe he will come back.

“They seemed nice,” Anakin remarks with absolutely no subtly.

“I’m not sure what you think happened between us, but whatever it is, you’re wrong,” and with that Obi-Wan turns and begins walking out of the exhibit before Anakin can refute or comment on Obi-Wan’s building anxiety, giving him no choice but to follow.

The walk out of the museum, their time sitting and people watching at a nearby cafe, and the walk back to the forested area follow a similar pattern: Anakin trying to do some digging with heavy insinuations, Obi-Wan denying vehemently any theories and offering scant details, and neither one willing to back down from their stance. It’s an old familiar rhythm, and despite it being grating at times, it’s nice to feel a sense of normalcy with Anakin once more.

Eventually, they make it back up to their hidden sanctuary in the sky and part ways for the day. Once back in his dwelling, Obi-Wan sits down on a cushioned chair and mulls over his day. While going to the museum was fun and enlightening, his mind wanders back to a certain museum curator. The dark horse of the day. The unexpected detail. His beacon of light.

There’s something more to you, something he wants so desperately to know. He practically itches to go back to the museum and keep talking with you. You’re intelligent, beautiful, and humorous. You’re the sun, moon, and stars. He knows he can’t pursue a romantic relationship with you, and he knows friendships with humans are frowned upon if they get too close, but he reasons to himself that one more visit down to earth to speak with you wouldn’t hurt anyone. With this in mind, he closes his eyes and begins to reach out to see if he can hear you once again, but as he’s doing so, a realization dawns on him.

Meeting you is the closest he’s come to believing in Fate, and despite this going against his beliefs, he’s ready to set sail on this unknown voyage and see where your next meeting takes him.

[yumeisha]

Love In Print [Masaru] - Episode 1

“But Mari, I don’t WANT to go read this on Wattpad, I want to stay here on Tumblr!” Listen, my friend. Let me help you. Here’s all of Episode 1! (But the rest is over here if you decide you want to read it!)

— SATURDAY NIGHT —

 She’s started to think of it as the summer of weddings. Like purgatory, but with more flowers.

Reiko sighs. Another Saturday, another charming garden venue. Soft, flickering tea lights float in shallow porcelain bowls. It looks like something lifted straight out of Pinterest, and it’s pretty in all the right ways, hitting every obligatory aesthetic beat. The music is loud and many of the guests are amiably drunk, swaying in slow circles on the dance floor or queuing up for one more lap around the buffet.

Alone at her table, Reiko hides behind the towering lily centerpiece, nursing a headache. She fishes her phone out of the tiny, mostly useless evening bag she’s bought to go with this dress and takes refuge in her work inbox.

She’d love to go home, but it’s too early to make her retreat. Another two hours, she coaches herself. You can make it for two more.

“Come on,” says Ren, prodding her in the shoulder. Reiko jumps half a mile and nearly drops her phone, not that her cousin notices. “We’re missing a cake opportunity,” he whines.

As usual, Ren resembles a figure pulled directly off some runway in Milan. Impeccably attired, hair artfully tousled, a Rolex gleaming from his left wrist. Reiko plucks at a tuft of fur caught on the cuff of his tuxedo.

“You know, there is such a thing as a lint roller. You have one somewhere in your apartment.”

Ren peers down at the wad of cat hair slowly drifting down to the grass beneath their table. “Lint roller? What lint roller?” And then his face lights up. “Oh! You mean that tape-on-a-stick thing from the last time you came over?”

“Yes,” Reiko answers patiently. “That tape-on-a-stick thing. You use it to make sure you aren’t leaving the house dressed in cat fluff.”

Suzu pops up behind Ren. “He likes for everyone to know that he’s more complex than he appears. An insufferable playboy and a sophisticated cat bachelor.” She loops her arm through his and makes a show of sniffing at his clothes. “Ah,” she breathes. “The smell of too much money, layered over eau de too many cats.”

“I have three. How is that too many? And why aren’t either of you interested in getting some cake? This is a wedding. You go to weddings for cake.”

“That’s definitely the primary reason for attending weddings.”

“It’s from Fujiwara’s, you know. They never do weddings anymore. You’re missing the dessert event of your lives.”

Suzu straightens his boutonniere. “You accosted the Fujiwara grannies for these people?” A low whistle. “Wow. Dad must really like them.”

Reiko follows her twin’s gaze. Their father, Ryuuki, is busy holding court at a neighboring table. He laughs raucously at someone’s cheesy anecdote and is having the most fun out of all of them. “It’s all business, I suppose,” she says, unable to keep from smiling despite how little she’s enjoying herself.

Suzu snorts. “Of course it’s all business. Isn’t it always?” To Ren, she says, “Hey, how long before we’ve done our duty for the family market stall? I still have ten pages left to write on a research paper and it’s…” She grabs his arm in order to check the time on his fancy watch. “… 9:34. With half an hour’s drive back to my apartment.”

“You can spare ten minutes to have a slice of legendary cake, Tachibana Suzuna.”

“God, okay. But it better not be weird like that sheet cake you ordered for the charity auction last month.”

“Not weird. Avant-garde.”

“Uh-huh. Also, it tasted like beets and had radioactive magenta icing. So gross.”

“You and Reiko just really have no appreciation for the finer things in life. Let’s go, the line’s only getting longer.”

“Don’t want any,” Reiko pipes up. “I’ll have a slice vicariously, through Suzu.”

“Twin powers,” Suzu concurs, initiating the special handshake they invented when they were six. Almost twenty years later, they’re still augmenting the sequence with new moves. “Anything I ate, Reiko also ate. And vice versa. Page 2, Line 21 in the Twin Manual.”

“The worst plus-ones anybody ever brought to a wedding,” complains Ren. He pours Reiko a fresh glass of water from the pitcher on the table and gives her a pat on the head, a gesture of silent sympathy.

She watches Ren and Suzu as they stop to tease Ryuuki along the way. And then she blinks back the onslaught of unwanted tears, reaches for her phone again, and taps the newest e-mail notification. Three unread messages beckon through Reiko’s blurred vision. She scans the subject lines, head bowed over the glowing screen. Slipping into the steps of a familiar dance, she starts at the bottom with the oldest message first, because that’s easier than confronting her emotions.

PRE-ORDER CAMPAIGN - SPS OMNIBUS EDITION. A reply from the manufacturer about a shipment of Star Princess Sanna enamel pins she asked about on Friday afternoon. Delayed for another two weeks. Not ideal, but better than never getting them in at all. Reiko marks it for a response later.

TENJOU DELIVERY WEDNESDAY. Timestamped a mere ten minutes ago. She isn’t the only one working on a day off. Reiko notices right away that the message has been flagged as important, which is odd. This e-mail appears, without fail, every Monday of her life. Throughout the long history of this exchange, the message has never been flagged as important. At least, not that Reiko can remember.

She almost opens it, curiosity triggered, but then she sees the subject of the next e-mail and momentarily forgets everything else.

ALL DEPTS: QUARTERLY MEETING — MON @ 10AM

A thrill dances through her, momentarily displacing the throbbing ache in her skull. The sounds of the reception fade away. She taps the message and it unfurls into a calendar invite. Representatives from every department at her publishing house will be expected to attend, including Reiko and the other senior marketing staff.

Most meetings are a dreary prospect, especially when scheduled for first thing on a Monday. At these quarterly gatherings, it takes hours to discuss things like sales figures and future business plans. But this one is special, because they’ll finally present the twentieth anniversary plans for DUCHESS Magazine’s most iconic franchise to date: Red Thread. The first manga she ever read all the way through, start to finish. The reason why she applied at Yumeisha in the first place, as soon as she’d graduated.

Reiko accepts the invite and adds it to her burgeoning, meticulously color-coded calendar. She can’t keep from breaking into a smile. She’s still beaming at her phone when she hears the grass crunching softly under someone’s feet and looks up to find that she is no longer alone.

The someone is tall, just about as impeccably turned out as Ren, and wearing a pair of dress shoes so highly polished that Reiko can see her reflection in them. He’s shed the jacket and rolled up the sleeves of the crisp white shirt underneath.

There is only a bowl of tealights to see him by, so it takes a moment for Reiko to recognize the man now seating himself across from her. But if the head of blond hair hadn’t given it away, the green eyes and trademark smirk would have made it very clear within the next two seconds, anyway.

She blinks at him. “Oshiro?”

“Hi.”

“Um, hi. What are you doing here?”

He leans back into the chair and stretches his long legs under the table, instantly making himself at home. “Attending a wedding,” he replies. “Chatting with the bride’s aunties. Waiting for you to pay attention to me.”

“And sending e-mails?”

“No rest for the wicked, as they say.”

Reiko puts her phone down. “It’s weird seeing you outside of work. This is the last place I’d expect to run into you.”

“Why? Because you figured that I live at the office and camp out under my desk on days off?”

She laughs. “I mean, yeah.”

“To be fair, I’d expect the same of you.”

Well, that really is fair. Sometimes Reiko looks up from the endless loop between work and her apartment, her apartment and then work, and realizes that her entire existence can be summed up in three boring sentences or less. And then she’ll go back to her computer screen, her half empty coffee mug, the pathetic little granola bar that will have to serve as her lunch. But that’s just the way of things, isn’t it? At least she genuinely loves her job. It would be much harder to bear, otherwise.

“I’ve considered just packing myself a bag and living in my cubicle,” Reiko admits, without any real shame. In the background, the band segues into their much livelier cover of a depressing breakup anthem. Over the noise, she adds, “At least it would save me a commute.”

“So dedicated.”

She shrugs. “So lazy.”

“Anyone truly lazy wouldn’t be checking her inbox at a wedding reception,” Oshiro points out.

“Guilty as charged. Have you come to scold me for not participating in wedding activities?”

“No, I’ve come to ask you why you haven’t opened my e-mail.” He waves his own phone at her. “I checked three seconds ago. It definitely still says unread.”

“It’s flagged important and with a read receipt? Seriously?”

“Seriously. It’s high priority. Read it right now.” He angles a covert glance over her shoulder, in the direction he came from earlier. “Oh, and if you don’t mind, don’t reply until I’m back over there.”

“Wait, you want a reply, too? What am I supposed to say? You send me the same four lines every week. I have the thing memorized by now.” To prove this point, she clasps her hands behind her back and recites, “Heading to Tenjou on Wednesday. They need endcaps, window decals, sticker packs, blah blah blah, for insert-manga-title-here. I’ll stop by and grab them on my way out. Thanks. Oshiro Masaru, DUCHESS Sales, 81-4-8914-1111, extension 822.”

His demeanor shifts, now part bemusement and part blatant self-satisfaction. “Look, Tachibana, I’m beyond flattered that you hang onto my every word like this. Not surprising. I’m extremely eloquent in my digital correspondence.”

She rolls her eyes. “There it is. I knew it was coming.”

“You even know my extension by heart,” Oshiro continues blithely. “It’s like my wildest dreams coming true. But what I really need right now is for you to open that e-mail and write me a timely reply. By timely, I mean don’t hit send until I’m at my table again. And then I’ll read your response and write you back. So on, so forth, rinse and repeat, until this torture is over and we can both leave.”

“Ah.” Reiko crosses her arms. “You want a prolonged reason to be on your phone.”

“Correct.”

“Because you don’t want to be here.”

“Also correct, but needs clarification. I don’t want to be at this wedding. I do want to be at this table with you.”

He tips his head towards his original seating arrangements. Reiko risks a covert glance and notes that Oshiro’s vacated chair is surrounded by chattering ladies ranging from middle-aged to elderly. Somehow, without ever speaking to a single one of them, Reiko can tell that they’re the problematic aunties who don’t get along with any of the other aunties. Consequently, they’ve been placed where they can ostensibly do the least damage. From the looks of it, they’re having a fabulous time.

Reiko bites her lip, smothering a surge of laughter. “Wow. How did you end up with the best seat in the house? Like, who did you offend?”

“Ha ha. I owed the groom a favor and he cashed in, majorly.” Oshiro leans forward. “They’re a nice bunch, don’t get me wrong, but if they set me up with another of their nieces, I’ll be double booked from today until Christmas.”

“You’re welcome to sit here instead,” she offers. “We have an extra chair. My dad prefers to migrate between friend groups.”

“Thanks, but I can’t just abandon my post. I wouldn’t put it past them to follow me over here, or else I’d take you up on that suggestion. I figure random texts to my brothers will seem rude, unlike important work e-mails. So play along, won’t you? And keep in mind at least one of them will be reading over my shoulder the whole time.”

“What’s that supposed to mean? What on earth do you think I’d be putting in that e-mail?”

“I’m just saying, don’t use this as an opportunity to confess your undying love or anything. Maintain professionalism and all that.”

“Gosh, what a tall order. How will I ever comply?”

“Dig deep, Tachibana. Find that inner strength.”

Reiko pulls a face. “You came all the way here just to make me do this?”

“Yes,” says Oshiro. “You’re welcome. I’ll look for your thank you note in the mail. I also like gift baskets. The ones with baked goods are okay, but no edible fruit bouquets or artisan cheeses. Nobody wants those.”

“But why me?” she persists. “Don’t you have anyone else you can trade fake work e-mails with? What about Ueda? Or your boss?”

“Hey, take it easy. I’m not used to outright rejection.”

“I’m not rejecting you, I’m just confused.”

“What’s there to be confused about? I don’t want to be here. Neither do you. Let’s help each other out.”

Neither do you. Reiko feels very, very obvious, now.

He watches her expectantly. She can tell that he’s fighting hard not to break into one of his insouciant grins. Reiko can’t decide if she wants to smack him or bask in the infectious warmth of his attention, like a deprived houseplant straining to soak up every drop of sunshine it can get.

This conflicted reaction is more embarrassing than being caught on her phone. For God’s sake, it’s just Oshiro.

Their departments — Sales for him, Marketing for her — are often flung together, which means running into him at Yumeisha is pretty normal. They take the same elevator from the lobby and frequent the same break room on the tenth floor. He stops at her desk most Wednesday afternoons, as promised in his e-mails. Once in a while, if she stays even later than usual, Reiko might see him striding ahead of her through the lobby’s sliding glass doors, crossing the street to catch the same train. They never talk much, though, unless it’s about work.

Still true, she concludes, as Oshiro stands up and pushes the chair into place, preparing to return to the Island of Matchmaking Aunties. He walks backwards away from her, hands in his pockets. “Talk soon,” he tells Reiko, smiling as if he’s guessed all her secrets. And then he’s gone, threading his way through the crowd while she stares after him, utterly bewildered.

Read more episodes on Wattpad!

[takonei]

Beta AU - Main story, Chapter 4, daily life (Part 2)

Note of the author: Ok uhhhhhh I didn’t expect that shit to be that long so the daily life parts (normally ‘1 part = 1 day’) are going to be '2 parts = 1 day’.

Chapter 4: Dance, dance, hanged puppets - Daily life

Day 14 since the beginning of the game.

7:30 AM.

Shuichi woke up earlier than expected.

Not because he gave up on sleeping. He simply didn't feel like going back to sleep.

He rubbed his eyes and glanced at the grey card on the table, in the middle of the room.

The ‘Sanzu key’ as Monokuma called it.

What was he even planning?

The violinist took a shower, trying to forget about those worries for a while.

But he couldn’t.

Monokuma’s motive always came the day after the new labs opened. This time they had a part of the motive, but the bear specified that the whole thing was not ready yet.

What did that even mean?

After his usual routine, he left his room. Surprisingly, Kirumi was leaning against a pillar, and Miu was laying on the ground, head resting on her arms, staring at the ceiling.

Ryoma was also there, fidgeting with his Sanzu key.

The others turned to Shuichi.

“G’morning. Breakfast canceled, we stay here.” the street artist said with a hint of sarcasm.

He blinked. “What’s... Happening?”

Kirumi shrugged. “No one knows. The dormitories’ door is locked, so we can’t go out. We’re locked here.”

... What? Was that the motive? Being quarantined in their rooms? That sounded like a bad joke.

“We tried calling Monokuma and even the monokubs and no one came.” Ryoma explained.

That sounded fishy. Extremely fishy.

They could only wait.

Rantaro, Kiyo, and Tsumugi came out of their rooms one by one. The situation had to be explained each time.

...

8:00 AM.

The morning announcement rang, but the message was different.

“All students are required to go out of their rooms, this is a direct order from the principal of the academy!”

Did Monokuma want them all at once? Usually, when an announcement was made they were all supposed to go to the gym. Why the dormitories this time?

Speaking of the devil, the bear and his cubs appeared before them.

“My, my! It’s as though almost everyone is here!” he cackled. “Only Mr. grumps and Mr. gloomy are missing!”

Shuichi flinched at the nicknames.

The two cubs started their shenanigans that Shuichi didn’t even bother listening to.

The only emotion he could feel when the monokubs appeared was a pure annoyance. Not even hatred. Pure annoyance.

He couldn’t even bother being mad at them. It just felt like each time they visited them, his only desire was to see them disappear forever.

Minutes felt like hours, Shuichi silently praying for Kaito and Kokichi to just come out from their room already so the green and red bears would shut up.

Kaito was the first to come out, surprisingly. his appearance was less messy than yesterday.

Shuichi noticed him glancing at Miu, the latter avoiding his gaze.

He muttered a quiet “Hey.” as he came down the stairs. The biker immediately separated himself from the group to lean against a pillar.

After another couple of minutes waiting for Kokichi, the boy opened his door, stumbling out of his room. He didn't seem to have slept well.

“Next time, do not come late to the principal’s announcement! I’ve waited way too long for you two to come out!” he raised his paws in the air, voice a bit too loud for the two who had woken up minutes ago.

“So, what do you want from us this time?” Rantaro was straight to the point.

“Sheesh, stop being so eager for the motive, I can’t even prepare the surprise!”

So it was the motive.

“Anyway, let me present you the next motive, starting from today to the moment someone dies...”

“... The Sanzu garden!”

That raised more questions than answered them.

“And what is the ‘Sanzu garden’?” Ryoma raised an eyebrow.

“To put it simply, this entire academy was renovated just for you guys!”

Something that involved the whole academy?

“Before explaining the motive, perhaps I should tell you a story passed through generations... Have any of you heard the legend of the Sanzu river?”

Tsumugi put a finger on her chin. “From what I’ve heard, the Sanzu River is a mythological river of the Buddhist religion. Souls joining the afterlife must pass the river by one of the three crossing points, depending on the actions they made in their life, also known as ‘karma’.”

Kokichi visibly flinched at the explanation.

“Great! I may also add that a cost is required to cross the river. Six mon to be specific.” the bear explained.

“In other words, this academy has been transformed into a great garden! And the cost of living for another day must be paid! However, the cost isn’t six mon like the legends told since we live in a modern society with better ways to pay your lovely headmaster!”

Kaito raised an eyebrow, arms crossed. “So what, someone must kill within 24 hours so the others can live?”

“Better! That’s where your Sanzu keys play their part! They serve as bank cards to pay your fee to live for the next 24 hours!”

“Wh- bank cards??” Miu exclaimed, taking out the card.

“There are two locks with your icons hidden in the academy, specific to each of you. You will have to activate the locks each day with your card keys to continue living. One lock must be activated between 8 AM and 3 PM, and the other between 3 PM and 10 PM. It doesn’t matter in which order you activate the locks.” the bear explained as everyone listened carefully.

“Also, do not even try to activate another person’s lock! This will not work in the slightest! And the locks’ placements will be different each day! They can be in the labs, common rooms, and even outside!”

Rantaro, who had sat down, joined his hands. “Let me get this straight. We have to use cards on locks two times a day and look around the academy to find them?”

“Where’s the catch.” Ryoma bluntly asked. “That’s way too easy. There’s a catch.”

The bear laughed. “Puhuhuhuhu... I’m glad you asked! The catch is also the reason why we are meeting in the dormitories after all!”

This did not reassure Shuichi in the slightest.

“Did you know? The Sanzu river takes its name directly from the Japanese ‘San’, meaning ‘three’ and ‘Zu’, meaning ‘way’ for our non-japanese audience!”

... What?

“This garden has a similar mechanic! There are only three choices offered to those entering it!”

“... To die, to kill or to suffer.”

... Huh?

“This academy is a garden of traps in every corner. Both outside and inside. From pitfalls to spears to arrows to spikes, everything is here to hurt you. But my favorite part is...”

“... Some rooms will lock themselves and whisper your worst fears to you.”

“Of course, none of the traps will actually kill you, that would be a shame if someone was accidentally killed!”

“But I meticulously put everything in place so you guys could enjoy this academy of nightmares!”

Monokuma raised his paws in the air with excitement.

... This could not be real.

An academy of nightmares??

“There is one zone that is free of danger, which is where we’re standing!”

“The dorms are safe?” Kirumi raised an eyebrow.

“Thaaaat’s right! The dormitories are the only place without any traps!”

Shuichi couldn't even say anything.

As if the academy wasn't already the place where they all had to kill each other, it just had to be trapped for the sole purpose of making them suffer?

What did whoever put them into the killing game even want from them?

If he even dared to ask Monokuma he would probably say "despair".

And at this point, is the truth even worth knowing?

Was there even an explanation of why they had to endure this?

"Of course it would take a loooong time to search through the whole academy for the locks, so I'm giving you one hint each day! They will be available on your monopads! How generous of me!"

Shuichi wanted to vomit.

This entire motive made no sense.

"That was all the explanations for the motive! Any questions?"

No one even dared to speak.

That was even worse than the last motive.

Even if he even managed to survive, what even would be the next motive?

"No? Then good luck! And don't forget..." the bear smiled.

"The garden will be shut down when a dead body gets discovered."

He left immediately after, the two remaining monokubs following behind.

Everyone stared at each other.

Rantaro slowly approached the door and opened it.

No traps were visible, but Shuichi knew the moment someone would set a foot outside a trap would activate.

"Give me a sec." Ryoma approached his dorm and entered the room.

About a minute later, he came out with a set of tennis balls, supposedly won at the monomono machine. He took a ball out and threw it outside.

... Nothing happened.

"Was Monokuma lying about the traps?" Shuichi raised an eyebrow.

"I think it just means that it's not a trap activated with a motion sensor. There's a possibility the trap is activated when you step foot on one of the path stones." Kirumi shook her head.

"Before we go head first and get us all killed how about we get organized? We know the dorms are the safe spot of the academy, so we'll likely spend most of our time here." Rantaro turned to the others.

"We'll still have to go outside to find the locks." Kiyo added. "We will have to think collectively or else we will not keep up for long."

Shuichi checked his monopad to see what the hints were.

Memories of lavender.

Senses and intuition ~ Follow your heart.

Of course it was going to be some kind of riddle that he didn't get.

"So? What's your plan, boss?" Ryoma asked Rantaro, hands in his pockets.

He pondered for a moment. "First off we should move as much food as we can to the dorms. It will be safer to eat here than in the dining hall."

Kirumi nodded. "Although for now, we should focus on searching at least one of our locks. We have a time limit for each of them."

"But... Do we separate or do we go in groups?" Miu asked.

Rantaro sat down to think. "There are nine of us. Since I think it's too dangerous to leave someone by themselves, I suggest we go by groups of 3 whenever we move from here."

"And our groups shouldn't change for the day so no one gets confused." Ryoma added.

... This clearly wasn't appreciated by some of them. Noticeably Kaito and Kokichi.

Tsumugi crossed her arms. "So? Who gets with who?"

"I suggest we separate Ryoma, you and I since we're probably the most qualified to detect the traps." Kirumi raised a hand. "One in each of the groups seems reasonable."

The prodigy nodded. "That is fair."

She took a few steps away, and so did Ryoma.

After some debating, the groups were made.

Rantaro, Ryoma, and Kaito were the first group.

Kirumi, Kokichi and Miu were the second.

And finally, Shuichi, Tsumugi, and Kiyo formed the last group.

"So now it's pretty much 'the first group finding all their morning locks gets the food'?" Tsumugi fiddled with her hair.

"For now, that is the plan. If we find each others' locks, we share the info however we can." Kiyo replied.

"Well, how do we even do that?" Miu tilted her head to the side. "If we're separated, we can't do anything."

Shuichi pondered. "The most we can do is yelling, I mean my hearing is pretty developed but there are limits to it..."

Ryoma fixed his beanie. "We'll only better our strategy if we face the danger at least once. Staying here won't do any good."

The others agreed.

The strategy was fixed.

The groups would go out one by one by intervals of five minutes to investigate where their lockers would be.

Kaito, Rantaro, and Ryoma left first. The others watched them go to see if everything was fine. They were walking slowly to make sure they didn't activate anything.

For now, everything seemed fine. But Shuichi preferred not to get his hopes up.

The two remaining groups talked about their riddles. They looked pretty strange.

"Hey, Kiyo... Do you have an idea of what my riddle could mean?" he asked the therapist.

"Let's see..." he took the violinist's monopad and read the two sentences. "I don't think your riddle is too far fetched. Does the color purple remind you of something nostalgic and positive?"

He pondered. "I... No, I don't think that's it."

Kiyo shook his head. "All theories could be right. Your riddle says to 'follow your heart'. Your answer could be right."

He looked at the tablet for a moment. "My... My cousin has lavender hair. And I do miss her."

Then it clicked. "Ah! My lab! That's where Miu made her portrait when we got the motive videos!"

Kiyo weakly smiled. "That sounds plausible. We will check your lab once we get to the main building."

Shuichi stared back at the tablet. "So was that the first or the second quote?"

The therapist shook his head. "I don't think one quote is for one lock. Both locks must be linked somehow."

"So the other lock is also hinted by the riddle?"

"I think so." Kiyo nodded. "Perhaps..."

He pointed at the second quote. "You found a potential solution with your intuition. So the second could be linked to your senses."

"My senses...? Something purple that could be linked to my senses?"

Hearing? No. His lab was already for one lock.

Taste? The only thing popping in his mind was that type of soda with a taste you could only describe as 'purple'. Which he didn't like in the slightest.

Touch? That would be unlikely...

Sight? Too vague...

Smell? That could be it since the riddle said 'lavender'. Perhaps...

"The wisterias from the courtyard? They're purple, right?" he raised an eyebrow.

"Does it remind you of something nostalgic?" Kiyo asked.

Shuichi weakly chuckled. "My cousin always had two long braids. Somehow it always reminded me of those flowers..."

Kiyo put a finger on his chin. "So both of your locks are related to one person. To me, we are on the right path."

Just as they stopped talking, Kirumi's group was prepared to go.

Well, Miu and Kirumi were prepared to go. Kokichi was barely keeping up.

The two girls made sure the smaller boy was following when they left, nervousness written all over their faces.

The three ones left in the dorms looked at each other.

"So, did you two find out where your locks could be?" the prodigy asked.

"I'm guessing one is in my lab, and the other should be at the pool." the therapist replied.

Tsumugi nodded. "Good, good. And you?" she turned to Shuichi.

"Oh, um... I think one is near the wisterias and the other should be in my lab as well..."

She frowned. "Three in a row."

"Huh?"

"All of us have a lock in our respective labs. I'm thinking Monokuma put them here as some sort of guide for the first day. The next days are probably going to get harder and harder."

... What did 'harder' mean?

"What about you, then?" Kiyo asked.

"One should be in my lab. The other in the library."

The therapist nodded. "I see. Do you have a strategy for which places we check?"

She started pacing around slowly. "We have both of them in the main building except Shuichi who has one in front of the dorms."

She stopped. "For now we are also requested to help to transport food to the dorms, but there's a possibility the other groups will be done with the locks before us. So I think we should go to the ones that are not in our labs." She narrowed her eyes. "Although for the next days we should find out the locks' locations before forming the groups."

They nodded.

Enough time had passed since the last group left, so they decided to go as well.

They reached the wisterias with no problem, and a black podium with an icon was indeed there.

Before they could go under the pergola, Tsumugi glanced at the structure. She took off her jacket and threw it on the table. Spikes suddenly rose from above, impaling the piece of cloth before it could reach the table.

"... We'll have to find ways to activate traps in advance. We won't use my jacket each time. The tennis balls were pretty effective." the prodigy picked up the jacket from the floor where it had fallen.

The three made their way to the podium, which had Shuichi's icon on it. A red LED was on, indicating that the violinist had not yet activated it.

After taking out the Sanzu key and approaching it to the icon, a small jingle rang, with the LED turning green.

At least the 'paying' process was easy.

"Next up is mine, at the pool." Kiyo turned to the two.

Surprisingly, their way to the main building was quite silent. 

Perhaps the paths outside were never trapped, and it was only the main structures?

Kiyo carefully opened the door.

A black podium was right beside the deckchairs.

He glanced around to see if there were any traps, and carefully approached the podium. After the small jingle rang, he joined the others so they could move on.

Two out of three.

Something didn't feel right for Shuichi. That motive looked way too simple.

Would it be like Tsumugi said, that this was going to get harder and harder with time?

They left the pool and approached the door to the main building.

When they opened it, Shuichi took a step and immediately stopped when an arrow was shot right in front of his face.

"Ah!-"

He took a step backwards and touched the bridge of his nose.

Pecks of blood tainted his fingers.

"Are you okay, Shuichi?" Kiyo asked, worried.

He turned to the therapist. "I'm- I'm fine, this just surprised me. Perhaps we should crouch to pass this door."

He rubbed his nose with his wrist. The wound was pretty light, but it still stung.

The three made their way to the central hall, luckily not activating any more traps.

"Now let's go to the basement. Once we're done with the library we'll be free for now." Tsumugi declared.

They slowly went to the corridor leading to the stairs, until...

*click*

They stopped and looked at their feet.

Kiyo had just stepped onto a pressure plate.

Shuichi's heart skipped a beat when a wall of concrete came down from the ceiling behind them, crushing the grass on the floor.

Then another. And another.

They ran as fast as they could to the stairs, walls menacing to crush them if they were not fast enough.

The trio tripped, fell down the stairs and crashed against the wall.

"Ouch..."

"At least we're alive."

"Even though Monokuma said those traps were not going to kill us we almost ended up crushed."

"Could you two move? I can't breathe..."

"Tsumugi is on top of me, I cannot move either."

The prodigy stood up, brushing dust off her skirt. "I thought you two would be physically stronger than that."

Shuichi could barely mutter under Kiyo's weight. "Well, I'm a violinist, not a biker nor a soldier..."

The therapist stood up and helped Shuichi get on his feet.

Just as the three recovered from their fall, Rantaro's group appeared.

The medic blinked a few times in confusion. "Are you three okay?"

Shuichi rubbed the bridge of his nose to wipe off the rest of the blood from earlier. "We're fine. It could be worse."

Ryoma appeared from behind. "Tsumugi, there's a lock for you in the library. We deactivated the trap here so don't worry about anything."

"I guessed it from my riddle, but thank you."

Kaito was also there but did not seem to want to contribute to the conversation.

"Anyway, our group is done with the morning locks. We'll be getting the food." Rantaro cracked his knuckles.

Kiyo pondered. "Our group only has one more morning lock to activate. We'll be able to join you shortly."

"In that case, we should go to your lab, Rantaro." Ryoma crossed his arms. "We'll need medical supplies in case someone gets injured."

The medic nodded. "Sounds good. So you three can bring the food in the meantime?" he turned to Kiyo.

"Count on us."

The two groups separated. The concrete walls were gone- they were made to make them hurry, not to lock them in the basement, fortunately.

Just as Ryoma said, the trap was deactivated in the library. It seemed to have made some of the bookshelves fall. Tsumugi's lock was right in front of a table.

The jingle rang as she approached her key.

They left the basement to get to the dining hall. No one seemed to have gone there yet.

Shuichi approached the pantry but suddenly...

The floor disappeared beneath his feet.

Kiyo thankfully caught his arm before he could fall.

Don't look down don't look down don't look down don't look down-

"T-Thanks a lot, Kiyo..." he mumbled.

The two others helped him up.

He sat on the ground for a minute, trying to calm down.

How deep was that hole?

"Tch. I knew something would happen." Tsumugi quietly spat.

"Then why didn't you say anything?" Kiyo narrowed his eyes at her.

"Excuse me if I don't express every single intuition I have."

"We're in a situation where we could die instantly. Every single intuition could save a life."

"It could also make us paranoid for nothing. You should know as a therapist that paranoia could also kill us."

"I prefer to be paranoid over careless."

Shuichi knew that is he didn't stop them they could argue for hours.

"Guys! Please..." he stood up despite his feet trembling. "I'm fine. Let's just... Get the food."

The two exchanged glances and stepped in the pantry, avoiding the giant hole in the ground.

"We don't have a refrigerator in the dorms, so we'll have to take durable food." Tsumugi noted.

"We have access to drinkable water in the dorms, I don't think drinks will be necessary." Shuichi added.

Tsumugi looked around. "We don't have any bags. And my jacket is too small to make a substitute.

Shuichi thought back at when Himiko and Kokichi here going to the dorms using their jackets as bags for objects they won at the monomono machine. But...

The astronomer wasn't here anymore. He had to accept it.

He shook his head. "That's better than nothing. I still have my own just in case."

"And mine." Kiyo added.

"Also, perhaps we should take cutlery. To eat and to serve as a decoy for the traps." Tsumugi suggested.

The three started taking food. Mostly canned food since it was the safest option.

Shuichi had suggested taking rice and other starchy foods, but since there was no way to cook them in the dorms, the idea was rejected.

Shortly after, Kirumi, Miu, and Kokichi joined them.

"It's nice to take food that doesn't expire soon, but we should take food that doesn't take much space." Kirumi explained. "We will not go in this building too much, so we'll have to take as much as we possibly can." 

Miu pondered for a second. "How about we use kitchen furniture to transport food? That's two in one!"

Tsumugi perked up. "I didn't think about that."

"However the kitchen furniture will be useless to us since we do not have anything to cook food." Kiyo advised.

"But that's still better than using our jackets to transport food... And perhaps we'll find a way to cook." Shuichi countered.

"Then the pots will be the best for both cooking and transport." Tsumugi declared.

The 6 of them took time to choose which food to take. Canned food, rice, noodles, dry food but also some fruits. They took enough cutlery for both the group and to use it as a trap decoy.

They left the dining hall with all the furniture.

Shuichi hoped they wouldn't have to run with that much in their hands.

Miu looked at the pot she was transporting, full of fruits. "We said we would take the pots but any idea on what to use to cook? We know there's no lighter or some kind of portable stove..."

Tsumugi pondered. "We have the candles on the fourth floor and wood in Angie's lab. But that will require maintenance."

"I believe there are tools to keep the fire alive in my lab since there is a fireplace. We should take a look this afternoon." Kiyo suggested.

"That sounds fair to m-" Tsumugi interrupted herself when she heard a click.

A series of needles was shot from the walls on the group, stabbing each of them in all places.

They ran as fast as they could to get out of the building. Shuichi is pretty sure some of the food fell on the floor, but now was not the time to retrieve it.

His cheeks hurt.

They pushed the door to get out of the building.

Shuichi heard a loud noise, of someone falling to the ground.

When he turned around, his eyes widened.

Miu was less covered than the majority of them. She only had a crop top and a short overall. The needles did much more damage on her than on the others.

She wasn't bleeding, but there were way too many of them, on her arms, legs, and even her face.

"Miu!!" he kneeled before her. "Are you feeling okay?"

"I-I'm fine. D-Don't worry about me." she stuttered.

Everyone took off the needles that stuck on their bodies, Shuichi helping Miu get hers off.

Kiyo helped her getting up. "Rantaro's group went on the third floor for medical supplies. He'll help you once they come back."

She weakly nodded.

Kirumi had taken Kiyo's pot so he could help Miu walk.

Fortunately, no more traps activated on their way to the dorms.

When they opened the door, they realized Rantaro's group was already there, organizing the medical supplies.

The medic rushed to the group. "Are you guys okay?"

"We activated a trap and Miu ended up getting more injured than us. She needs your help, Rantaro." Kiyo explained.

The group organized the food and cutlery, except for Miu and Rantaro, the latter disinfecting the former's wounds.

Kirumi prepared lunch with Ryoma since Miu was unable to do anything. Shuichi hadn't realized they took that long to activate a few locks and transport food. But at least they had enough for the day, and perhaps the day after if they managed to save enough.

For some reason, Rantaro, Ryoma, Kirumi, and Kokichi already seemed to be used to be light on food, considering how little they ate.

The group ate in silence on the floor of the dorms. Canned food was not the tastiest, especially considering what Kirumi and Miu could usually cook, but they didn't have a choice.

This motive was already starting to get the better of them. Would they even be able to continue like this for long? Long enough for Monokuma to perhaps get bored and stop the motive?

Since there wasn't much to do, everyone either stayed in their rooms or talked in the lobby.

Shuichi was already tired from the morning, so he laid on his bed for the time being.

They could only use the locks after 3 PM. Monokuma already knew they would be going to rush and unlock both if he didn't add the rule.

He thought about the situation. They were surprisingly organized.

Surprising...

Was it, though?

Their group had two soldiers, a mercenary, an intellectual genius, and a therapist to help them get organized.

They were teenagers more mature than any normal person their age.

A maturity that came from the harshness of their past.

The fact that they were able to get organized so well...

... That was definitely not surprising.

-

At around 2:50 PM, he left his room to join the others. (The others being: Kirumi and Rantaro).

He only noticed after that Ryoma was knocking on Tsumugi's door.

"Um... Is everything alright?" the violinist asked the two.

"Well, we're trying to think about how the traps work, and that's why we need Tsumugi." Kirumi explained.

Speaking of which, the prodigy joined them with Ryoma.

"We need your opinion on this, Tsumugi." Rantaro looked serious.

"I'm listening."

Kirumi crossed her arms. "We're saying that the more we are in a group, the higher are the chances of activating a trap, and possibly a huge one."

She pondered for a second. "From the traps we activated, I think that could be true. The needles were quite ferocious, even if they didn't look like it."

She perked up. "You're saying we should try to go individually and not by groups?"

Shuichi blinked. "Go individually? Isn't there a risk we could get injured without being able to be helped?"

Rantaro nervously bounced his leg. "I've inspected Miu's injuries earlier. This was not pretty to look at. I'm the only one who can treat serious wounds, so I have to admit going separately would be safer."

So the opposite strategy from earlier.

But if that was the best strategy, then it could be for the best.

...

Shuichi wished he could be as smart and strong as them.

-

At 3:00 PM, the others came out of their rooms.

After a short explanation, they decided to go by groups of two, even though they would separate at some point.

They also decided that those on the fourth floor would bring candles and wood, and Kiyo would get the tools for the fire.

Kirumi and Ryoma went first.

Then Rantaro and Kaito.

Tsumugi went alone.

Then it was Shuichi and Kiyo's turn. They wished Miu and Kokichi good luck and left.

"... I'm still nervous about this strategy." Shuichi admitted.

"For now it's for the best. This is the first day, we will decide which strategy is the best for tomorrow." Kiyo replied. "However we can go together with a distance between us so we do not activate unnecessary traps."

Shuichi smiled. "If it doesn't bother you of course."

"At the sole condition that you help me carry the tools from the fireplace."

He chuckled. "Alright. I accept."

They reached the building, and Shuichi crouched to enter the entrance hall. Perhaps the arrow trap wasn't there anymore, but he preferred not to take a risk.

The walk to the second floor was silent and surprisingly peaceful. They avoided a few traps in the corridors, going one after the other.

This strategy seemed to work.

The fewer people were together, the lower are the chances to activate a trap.

...

Monokuma wanted to separate them. Even Shuichi realized that.

The violinist entered his lab and activated the locker.

He sighed in relief. At least this was over for now.

Just as he stepped out of the lab, he joined back Kiyo, who was waiting for him near the stairs to the third floor.

"So, was your lock in your lab?" he asked.

"Yes, I managed to activate it." Shuichi nodded. "Thank you for helping me this morning."

The two made their way to the fifth floor.

...

This was too silent. Something was wrong.

"Are you coming, Shuichi?" Kiyo asked when he saw that Shuichi slowed down.

"Ah yes I'm..." he trailed off when he heard a faint noise. A voice?

He paused to focus.

"Shuichi?-"

"Shhh!" he raised a hand to ask him to be quiet.

There was a voice. It was definitely a voice.

Wait-

It was not a voice. It was several unfamiliar voices.

Kiyo raised an eyebrow.

...

Something wasn't right.

He walked down the upper set of stairs since the voices were definitely below them- on the fourth floor.

Kiyo followed him.

He could barely hear anything, but voices were coming from somewhere, he was sure of it.

"..."

"... -where... ... stops-"

"..."

"... Rats..."

"..."

"... Rats..."

"..."

"... Rats... Rats... Rats..."

Shuichi had a very bad feeling.

He stepped forward to go down the other set of stairs...

... But stopped when he heard a blood curling scream. Not a scream of pain. A scream of pure terror.

And by the pitch of the voice, it was...

"... Kokichi?" he instinctively muttered.

The violinist and the therapist exchanged quick glances.

Shuichi panicked.

He ran.

He didn't even care if a trap activated. He knew where the voices were from. Where the scream came from.

He ran through the fourth floor despite Kiyo telling him to stop.

The voices were louder and louder as he ran.

Some were talking and panicking. Some were repeating the same word over and over.

"Rats."

"They're everywhere- Someone just kill them!"

"Rats. Rats."

"Stay away from me!"

"Rats. Rats. Rats. Rats."

"God please have mercy on our souls- There's no God! We're going to die like rats!"

"Ratsratsratsratsratsratsratsrats"

"I- I think I'm infected too- STAY AWAY FROM ME!!"

"Ratsratsratsratsratsratsratsratsratsratsratsrats"

"WHAT DID WE DO TO DESERVE THIS??"

"Ratsratsratsratsratsratsratsratsratsratsratsratsratsratsratsratsratsratsrats-"

Suddenly the voices stopped all at once.

Shuichi entered the corridor leading to Kokichi's lab. A second door had shut down, eliminating every possibility of entering the lab.

"Kokichi!! Kokichi!!!!"

... Nothing.

Kiyo joined him, his monopad in hand. "Kokichi isn't the only one in here."

He looked at the therapist.

"Miu is here as well."

Shuichi kept slamming the door with his fist.

"Kokichi!! Miu!! Say something!!"

No one was answering. The second door was soundproofing the lab. Which was why the voices had 'stopped'.

They didn't stop, they were just contained in the lab.

Shuichi couldn't hear Miu and Kokichi, and neither of them could hear Shuichi banging at the door.

"Miu!! Kokichi!!!"

... This was hopeless.

He thought back at what Monokuma said earlier.

“... Some rooms will lock themselves to whisper your worst fears to you.”

That was what he meant.

He meant psychological torture.

Shuichi and Kiyo would only wait, powerless over the situation.

The violinist fell on his knees.

Just the thought made him want to puke.

Kokichi and Miu were stuck in a room made for psychological torture.

And they had no way of getting out.

[hellyeahomeland]

“The English Teacher” | Directed by Michael Cuesta, Cinematography by Giorgio Scali

Sara: Not really related to this image specifically, but this week’s episode was directed by Michael Cuesta, whom you may remember as the directing executive producer for the show’s first two seasons. He directed some of the best episodes of the show: the pilot, “The Weekend,” “Marine One,” “The Choice.” I was really, really happy to see that they brought him back for the penultimate episode. That feels fitting and so, so right. 

Related to this image specifically, opening on an image of Carrie literally split in half in the frame feels symbolic. She’s being pulled in two competing directions, her loyalty to Saul fighting with her desire to prevent a nuclear war. 

Gail: When the episode first started I wondered if she had escaped custody and was standing and waiting to have a passport photo taken like Brody in “The Choice” (again, a Michael Cuesta episode). (My tin foil hat has been all over the place lately!) But then it occurred to me that it’s actually the mirror of the opening shot of Carrie in the first episode this season. The close-ups of Carrie in both scenes have a lot in common, especially that we can only see half of her face. In episode one, the other half of the frame was black and here, the other half is white. I think Sara was right when she pointed out in last week’s Director’s Chair about the transition images at the end of “Designated Driver.” Carrie’s life has always been somewhere in between the black and white. 

Ashley: The way this carefully pans down across her face, only to find that she is actually cuffed to the chair, is pretty well-done. We’ve seen her in cuffs too many times this season, and trapped in other ways more often than that.

Sara: This image of Carrie watching the suicide bomb footage on TV really calls to mind the visuals in the opening credits of a young Carrie watching war and terror play out on a television screen.

Ashley: How many times has Carrie seen something awful and life-altering on television? She was in this position in season five when she saw Quinn in the gas chamber. Shocking and devastating and just kinda the life of Carrie Mathison, tbh.

Gail: I agree with both of you, this is a great callback to Carrie in the credits and Carrie in “New Normal.” Carrie’s unconventional methods often come at a high price and this scene is another reminder of that. (And how amazing is Chris Bauer, who plays Carrie’s lawyer?! Sara, he’s even giving you some sweet ‘stache!)

Sara: Love the mustache. 

Sara: Tag yourself I’m Wellington. 

Ashley: We are all Wellington.

Gail: Pretty sure I’ve been Saul all week trying to get my kids to do their e-learning. I’m tagging my son as Zabel and my daughter as Hayes. My husband is full-on Wellington, knowing I’m right but refusing to get involved.

Ashley: The sharp difference between Zabel’s terrible beard and Saul’s luscious beard is one of the best things this show has offered us.

Gail: I love that Saul’s body language tells a story too. He can hardly bring himself to look at Zabel, let alone face him.

Sara: John Zabel is a real fuckin’ slime ball and Hugh Dancy has been so, so good in this role. You can tell he must relish getting to play this evil character, going up against these actors and actors that he’s known so intimately, though entirely offscreen, the last ten years. 

Sara: I love this detail of Saul moving one of his books back just a millimeter or so. It really emphasizes how meticulous he is and also begs the question if he’s going to realize Carrie had them all splayed out on his living room floor. Does he keep them in a specific order? 

Ashley: I WAS WONDERING THE SAME THING. And I’m surprised he has so many of them — he was looking at one volume specifically, so I initially was wondering if his commie shelf was just to hide that particular book.

Gail: No small detail seems to escape Saul’s attention. Such a small movement, but it says so much about who Saul is. And yes, Ashley, some of those books were just decoys! Carrie figured that out as she was sorting the books, which is also a great detail about who Saul is. Saul’s red book collection of asset communication is also his hobby. As Carrie says, the best lies have to have truth in them.

Sara: Ben Savage as young Mandy Patinkin is some of the most inspired casting ever. I know he’s already played a young Mandy Patinkin, but I am still in awe. The flat bill cap was an excellent detail. #hat

Gail: I love how he is wearing a trademark Saul plaid shirt, too!

Gail: Another shot of a character with only half of their face shown. This time it’s a young Saul who already has his fair share of secrets.

Ashley: Spoiler alert, she doesn’t shoot him.

Sara: IJLTP.

Gail: We don’t get this close-up shot in this scene until Saul drops his facade and asks her if she’s reading between the lines... He wants to pull a fast one on the useful idiots in the Oval Office and wants her help to do it (ugh, Tasneem agrees!). From a distance, we see Saul in his office somewhere in the West Wing, playing the part of National Security Advisor, but as the camera moves in for this close-up, we see Saul as who he really is: the smart and strategic spy.

Sara: There were quite a few extreme close-ups of Saul this week. What does it mean in an episode where we learn more about his heroic past than potentially at any other time this series? For me this really put into perspective how much we don’t know about Saul. Carrie alludes to snippets he’s revealed over the years, but even she--presumably his closest confidante--doesn’t know. Saul is the opposite of an open book, pun intended. 

Ashley: Let’s crack his spine open and see if there’s a note.

Sara: This slow push on Carrie as the judge reads the list of charges against her is devastating, and not just for Carrie. It is for the audience too, because we know the truth. It goes without saying that Claire is magnificent here.

Ashley: Listening to all of the things Carrie Mathison is being charged with — specifically because we know the character, we have known her for a long time — is painful. For Claire, who has lived in Carrie’s skin for so long, it must have been torture. 

Gail: Carrie’s lawyer is dressed in red, white and blue while Carrie is dressed for a funeral. I’m sure neither is a coincidence.

Sara: I do not like the context of this shot, but I love the shot itself. IDNLTCOTSBILTSI.

Sara: Linus being the only one in a room full of military brass and West Wing staff who understands that something’s fishy here is a very “of course” moment. I love how they’re framed in shadows here. In a way, he and Saul have both been running a “shadow” government all season, working in the background, out of sight.

Gail: Saul has his own circle of trust now and Wellington’s circle is only bumping up against it, no Venn diagrams here. Saul is playing his cards close to the vest, knowing he is on borrowed time. (See what I did there?)

Sara: I loved the payoff of the Carrie/Jenna relationship this week. Jenna coming to the realization that Quinn did before--nothing is worth the damage they cause--plays like a terrible déjà vu moment. Carrie just sits there, silent, as Jenna walks out. As staff writer Jonathan Redding said, “She was never going to become another Carrie. She can’t make Carrie’s trades.”

Gail: I think Carrie sits silently as Jenna walks out because she can’t argue with her. Carrie herself came to the same realization back in season four. Interestingly, as Jenna has her realization that nothing is worth the damage they do, Carrie is sitting at a dining room table, just like Quinn was when he had his realization in “Gerontion.” Except this time Carrie is the one who everyone thinks is guilty of a crime she didn’t commit. So. Many. Parallels. 

Ashley: Putting Carrie at the dining room table is interesting — she’s surrounded by empty chairs. You can’t help but think of all the people she’s lost, and yet another person is walking away. She’s completely alone.

Sara: ICONIC MOMENT IN TELEVISION HISTORY. 

Gail: Did Carrie swipe a pair of Saul’s glasses from his house? They look similar to asset Anna’s glasses as well. Not sure if that means anything, but it’s interesting.

Sara: Gail, you can read my tin foil hat theory on that in this week’s TCWTW. 

Sara: I love love love this transition that reveals the teacher in the photo is the Russian translator. It’s inspired. 

Gail: Me too! I also love that she is in focus while everyone else is not, which adds importance to her character as well. The first shot of her mirrors the photo of The English Teacher. We don’t see her full face until she talks to Saul directly in this scene, a small detail that reveals who her character is important to.

Ashley: Her shoulders are squared, head cocked, listening — the contrast from the girl she was in the photo is evident even from behind.

Gail: Usually when a character is having an important moment, you see their face and reaction on camera, not the back of their head. Breaking that rule with Anna over and over again throughout the course of this scene is extremely effective. She’s a faceless, non-threatening fly on the wall and surely not the high-ranking Kremlin (and presumably male) official they are worried about.

Sara: The framing of these characters in this shot is amazing. Anna stands in the camera’s focus, head tilted ever so slightly. The other men don’t even notice. You can see how she’s been such an effective asset. Hidden in plain sight.

Sara: Kusnetsov’s book is Our Mutual Friend by Charles Dickens. This is the last novel Dickens ever wrote, which is fitting here. 

Gail: According to Wikipedia, the book explores the conflict between doing what society expects and the idea of being true to oneself. When you set that concept against Andrei’s role as a double agent, the theme takes on new meaning.

Ashley: Nerds.

Gail: Saul doesn’t yet know how important Anna is, but Michael Cuesta and Giorgio Scali are giving the audience a subtle clue here. By shooting Anna from a low angle it alludes that her character is powerful and has influence, something Saul will come to realize shortly.

Sara: We all agree that it was 100% intentional to cast an actress to play young Anna that looks just enough like Claire Danes to make you think, right? I don’t mean that Carrie is the lovechild of Saul and Anna (the timelines don’t match!). More that Saul has a type, no?

Sara: ...And in case we had any doubt that they’re drawing a parallel between Anna and Carrie, we have this transition. This episode is filled with loaded transitions.

Gail: Carrie in the center of the frame, caught in between the dark and light, is an ongoing theme this episode. We see it here again as she makes her way toward Saul’s library.

Sara: There are multiple pans over Saul’s giant collection of red books, most of the titles unreadable and blurred. But where do we land at the end? The camera holds on this book, A Woman’s Vengeance by James Payn. There is almost no info about this book on the internet, which leads me to believe it’s fake. Yet it’s in the public domain. Did they just like the title? 

Gail: I read a little about it online. It was published originally in 1872, volume 2 of 3. I read an excerpt of it on Amazon, and the first chapter is titled “A Good Night’s Work.” Having this close-up shot of these books that follow our introduction to young Anna, Saul’s asset who is clearly a woman scorned, makes this book title (and the title to its first chapter) feel very fitting.

Sara: If the Wikipedia entry about The Secret Agent is any indication, this book is a doozy. Basically everyone suffers and dies at the end and an innocent person is accidentally killed. 

Gail: That Wikipedia page is crazy! It also says that Ted Kaczynski, the Unabomber, loved this book and closely identified himself with the character of the “Professor”... which ties into Saul’s alias, Professor Rabinow. I live for this stuff--always a mark of a good production when the depth of the details matches the intensity of the show.

Sara: The phantom horizontal line on the seven. 

Ashley: That is like the ONE thing that I, Ashley, actually noticed and mentioned first. Give me a shout-out, man, I mean, DAMN.

Sara: Shout out to Ashley, who noticed and mentioned this first! 

Gail: Homeland always gives us the best bokeh. I love its use here. We have a window into Saul’s biggest secret, the details surrounding it are hazy to us at first, and we can’t see the full picture yet--just like this shot.

Sara: IJLTP.

Ashley: I love how old-school Carrie is — she’s so visual, and in her own way, just like Saul. She lays it all out and uses her hands to put it together.

Gail: Her bulletin board, highlighters and thread have been replaced by notecards and old carpet that I’d like to think Mira picked out, but the result is the same as we watch Carrie put all of the pieces together. It’s HIGH RED y’all.

Sara: “High red,” omg. I’m obsessed with the sequence of Carrie assembling the book timeline and figuring out Saul’s method of communication. For me it’s one of the all-time best Homeland scenes. 

Sara: The editing in this scene is exquisite. The use of jump cuts adds to the tension and uncertainty as Carrie herself attempts to splice together these disparate clues into something greater, some sort of truth. 

The scene is almost completely free of dialogue. Claire has to convey Carrie’s journey to the truth here through only her actions. I love the shots at ground level of her literally on hands and knees flipping through the books. There is a sense of desperation and urgency to it that is thrilling.

Sara: The Smile. 

Gail: I see what you did there and I approve. IJLTP.

Ashley: I’m a little surprised that Carrie isn’t a bit more conflicted here.

Sara: Cutting Carrie and Saul together at the moment where their minds finally sync is … quite literal, actually, but it works. In these twin shots of Carrie and Saul I’m struck especially by how Saul is against a light background while Carrie is cloaked in darkness. 

Gail: These back-to-back shots give the impression that Carrie and Saul are on opposite ends of the same book which rings very true to me. The black and white imagery continues here as Sara points out. We see Carrie just barely ahead of the darkness, looking toward the light.

Ashley: Mandy just does things with his face sometimes and it’s amazing to watch.

Sara: Another extreme close-up of Saul as he realizes that Carrie lied to him. 

Gail: Saul’s line from earlier in the season rings in my ears here. “You are vulnerable to him in ways neither of us can imagine.” But to build on my thoughts on his earlier close-up shot, I think it’s an effective tool for us to get a window into what Saul is genuinely thinking and feeling at that moment. The massive implications of Carrie’s involvement in a play being run by Yevgeny are devastating and Saul realizes it in one stunning and heartbreaking moment.

Gail: Anna saving Saul’s life gives so much more weight and importance to who she is to Saul. He owes her his life and, thirty years later, his career, too.

Sara: There is something fantastical about this part of the flashback. The backdrop and extreme lighting looks sort of … fake? It almost looks like they’re on a film set. I’m interpreting this as a reflection of Saul’s memory: we all want to see ourselves as the hero in our movie of our lives.

Sara: Shout out to Gail for realizing this Charlotte Benson character was featured last season with Ivan. 

Gail: I love a good easter egg and a good callback. Details like this and recurring characters like Scott Ryan give their world realism. I stan.

Ashley: This is such a terribly effective moment in the show. We haven’t seen Yevgeny at all in this episode, and yet he’s ever-present; closing on “kill Saul” is so fucking… ugh. Stupid Homeland.

Gail: All of Yevgeny’s shots in this scene are done with a steady camera, which gives the impression (illusion?) of his control of the situation. Have we had a scene where Yevgeny isn’t leaning? My God, he’s even leaning when on Zoom for Spies.

Sara: As Yevgeny reveals the full extent of his play--“Kill Saul”--the camera zooms in on him. Eventually he takes up almost the entire frame. It gives the feeling of stakes being continually raised. And he’s still got that trademark smirk and nonchalance, despite what he’s telling Carrie to do.

Sara: Meanwhile, the camera stays mostly the same distance away from Carrie but pans in semi-circles around her, back and forth, back and forth. It’s an interesting choice as she comes to the realization of what Yevgeny is suggesting. The camera is almost like the wheels spinning in her head as she understands the full scope of the choice she must make.

Gail: As Carrie and Yevgeny go back and forth, each one trying to figure out what the other one knows, the shots start to go back and forth as well, mimicking their dance. In film and television production, there is a term called the 180 degree rule. What it means is that there is an imaginary line running through a scene, from side to side, with respect to the camera. The rule of thumb is that the camera should never cross the line because it causes the viewer to feel disoriented and confused. But when used effectively, we get the powerful effect that it had here in this scene. We (the audience) feel the same disorientation as Carrie, the same unsteadiness that is reflected in the handheld camera that shoots her. As I mentioned above, when we see Yevgeny on the computer screen, he is centered, steady and in control. Quite a contrast between the two.

Ashley: I repeat… stupid Homeland.

Ashley: We’ve seen so much darkness in this episode, mostly related to Saul — Carrie, for her part, has been pretty much in bright spaces. Despite everything that’s happened to her, I believe that this is the darkest point in her life.

Sara: Carrie hurriedly walks out of this vast, empty mansion as the lights dim behind her. The weight and horror of this decision is splayed across her face. The darkness follows her. The question now as we head into this final chapter: can she outrun it? Or will it finally catch up to her? 

Gail: Staying just ahead of the darkness and trying to find the light. Here Carrie is again living somewhere in between.

[two-are-the-trees]

31 Days of Poe Day 5: “The Pit and the Pendulum”

While Poe is a master of terror and creates all sorts of frightening, morbid scenarios to shock our senses, none of his stories reach pure, primal, unrelenting levels of fear quite like “The Pit and the Pendulum.” This is one of Poe’s most graphically and physically horrifying stories, haunting readers with tortuous traps that are seemingly straight out of a Saw movie.

The tale follows a man who has just been arrested for an unknown crime by the Spanish Inquisition. He is thrown into a completely pitch-black dungeon and left to await his execution. The narrator is thrown into agonizing suspension as he wanders his cell, wondering what horrible method of torture will be used to carry out his sentence, as he has heard stories of terrible fates at the hands of the Inquisition. As he explores in the darkness, however, the narrator begins to notice strange things about the prison in which he is held and he must keep on his toes in order to avoid the various traps that his captors arrange for him. At each turn, his chance for survival looks bleaker and bleaker, and yet some internal urge pushes him to see how long he can escape his inevitable death.

Poe’s vividly descriptive language in this tale creates an atmosphere of the utmost squalor and desperation. The sensory details told through the narrator are meant to shock readers at whiplash speeds, inspiring feelings of disgust, hopelessness, confusion, and horror. The narrator describes walls that are slimy and cold, the oppressive claustrophobia of complete darkness, hairy rats crawling in his face, the pain of hunger and thirst, ghastly smells of decay, and the heart-stopping chill of terror that comes in intense waves. This imagery evokes an intense sympathetic response, more than most of Poe’s other works. Readers are thrust directly into the action, bonded to the narrative by our shared experiences of bodily sensation. The tale is also steeped in death as the assured presence of doom in one form or another hovers over every scene.

“The Pit and the Pendulum” is primarily a story of fear. It is fear that punishes the prisoners for their crimes and it is fear that inspires the narrator to attempt to escape every execution attempt thrown at him. The narrator experiences many different forms of fear; fear of closed spaces, fear of disease, fear of starvation or dehydration, fear of solitude, fear of bodily harm, and even some unnamed fears that seem to haunt the innermost recesses of his soul. While most of Poe’s tales use fear to some degree, this story is an absolute exploration of its most primal forms. Whether psychological, physical, or spiritual, Poe seeks to understand how fear affects us and what extremes we will go to because of it.

Would I recommend “The Pit and the Pendulum?” Absolutely, BUT only if you think you can handle it. This story DOES contain some graphic descriptions by Poe’s standards and many hard-to-read fears are explored in detail. However, this has become one of Poe’s most iconic works for a reason. It’s a genuinely thrilling story and the language is amazingly effective. Like, “The Fall of the House of Usher,” I would also definitely recommend the animated version of this tale in the Extraordinary Tales anthology (which is narrated by one of the masters of horror himself, Guillermo Del Toro.)

For more analysis (which contains spoilers!!!) please read below the cut!

As I mentioned above, fear is one of the primary themes of the narrative. The narrator shows an array of different responses to fear and describes its many different forms. He exhibits the strongest reactions to the titular pit and pendulum, and it is these two specific moments, as he faces two different, horrible deaths, that seem the most significant. I like to think that these two methods of execution represent a duality that divides all fears; one is a fear of the known, and one is a fear of the unknown.

The pendulum, which represents a fear of the known, inspires fear primarily because the narrator is allowed to see its journey downward, nearer and nearer to his vulnerable body. He is strapped to a table, facing upwards, so he cannot turn away from the fate that is set for him. He is able to track the pendulum’s movements; study how the mechanism lowers the blade inch by inch, maddening him with each swipe. Poe describes the spine-chilling sound of the screeching metal as it swings, reflecting the heightened senses of the panicking narrator. Because the blade is made to descend slowly, the narrator is given ample time to reflect on his death. He imagines how the blade will feel as it cuts away at his clothing, and then the top layer of flesh, and then deeper into his tissue until it reaches his heart. It’s gruesome imagery, and this grisly train of thought leads the narrator through several stages of pure fear, from unbearable desperation to bleak resignation. The terror of the pendulum is that it forces the victim to grapple with the certainty of death. The narrator knows exactly how he will die, how painful and slow it will be, and this knowledge will only add to the agony of his final minutes.

The pit, on the other hand, represents the fear of the unknown as the depths of the pit and the horrors that lie within haunt the narrator throughout the story. The narrator’s first experience with the pit is when he almost falls directly into it in his pitch-black cell. He narrowly avoids walking straight into his doom as he trips and falls just at the edge of the pit, enough for his head to hang over the side. Immediately, he is repulsed. He describes a horrible, musty, decaying smell coming from deep within and when he drops some debris into the hole and listens to see when it lands, he discovers that the pit runs dizzyingly deep. As much as he tries to infer about the pit with the limited sensory information that he has, he cannot truly know what fate may have awaited him. He gets a brief glimpse into the pit before he is subjected to the pendulum, but it is still unclear in what horrible way he would ultimately die if he were to fall into the depths. This type of fear, the fear of the unknown, is especially potent for the narrator as, after he escapes the pendulum, he is forced nearer and nearer to the pit by contracting walls, and his thoughts race in horror as he regards the pit as the most horrible death of all. This reflects our human, primal fear of things unknown; things like the darkness of night or of deep, dense forests. Any number of horrors could be lurking in obscured places.

Poe brilliantly captures the feeling of fear within the story, however, there is another element that complicates the narrative and sets it apart from many of Poe’s other works; the presence of hope. Yes, as bleak and disturbing as “The Pit and the Pendulum” can be sometimes, remember that it is essentially a story of survival. Even in the most despairing of situations, the narrator cannot fight his desire to stay alive and the hope that, somehow, he may live to see another day. He doesn’t simply lie and wait for death. He seeks out the dimensions of his cell and he eats the food that he is given eagerly, even as he is strapped to the table waiting for the pendulum to bisect him. He formulates a plan to break free of his bonds and escape the pendulum, even though he knows another death will await him soon. He even tries to resist the burning hot, contracting walls that push him toward the pit. Something deep inside him retains the spark of hope that allows him to escape doom. Ultimately, it is this hope that pays off in the end as the narrator is actually rescued from his horrible fate at the very last moment. Yes, this is a Poe story with a happy ending! “The Pit and the Pendulum,” bizarrely, is both a story about the human relationship with fear and about the willpower of the human spirit. It connects us with our primal roots and provides a very interesting and, dare I say, universal look into the human experience.

So, what did y’all think? What really makes the pit the most horrible form of death? What do you make of Poe’s “happy” ending? Are the pit and the pendulum representative of something else? If you want to share your thoughts, please comment on this post or send me an ask! You can also use the tag #31daysofpoe to write your own response post!

[quintessence-sentimentalist]

quintessence-sentimentalist Takes on 30 Days of W.i.t.c.h.versary!: Week One

So I’ve been way too swamped as of late to keep up with this challenge day-by-day, even with only written answers (because guys, I write long answers, even when I cut myself short). As a solution (at least to start), I’m going to lump my answers for days falling within the same week together. Here’s Days 1 through 7!

Day 1: Favorite Guardian

Well, glancing up at my username and icon, I think it’d be remiss not to say Will Vandom, at least in some respect.

Will was my favorite from the beginning, back when I only had the chapter books with comic inserts. I can’t quite put my finger on why I gravitated to her, though I get the feeling that my love of energy/electricity-based powers had something to do with it. Plus, she got the cool transformation trinket! I’m sure there are many, many more reasons why she became my favorite, but this was also a good 15 years ago and even my obscure-detail-focused memory is having a hard time tracing back.

I’m not as passionate about comics Will as an adult, just in terms of how they loaded the poor girl up with so much drama that it’s just overwhelmingly exhausting, and she has some pretty immature reactions to her problems with her mom and Matt (pre-relationship). But animated Will is still my girl, with her awkwardness and quipping (of a different sort than Irma’s) and the way she grows as a leader, to the point where she’s basically set up a long con on even the viewers as a battle strategy in the latter quarter of season 2. This was the Will I grew to love as an adult rewatching the series after many years.

Since I’ve always been a Will Girl in some form, this has to be my official answer, but very honorable mentions to Irma and Hay Lin across both media. 

Day 2: Favorite Villain

Alright, if we’re talking the animated series and you aren’t new around these parts, we all know it’s Shagon. Listen, this arc is 90% of the reason why I love the cartoon as much as I do, because they took a character from the comics with a nebulous backstory and a spooky, badass design who was relatively underused even with being Nerissa’s strongest/preferred minion, and decided to pull out all the stops. They gave a recurring character (who, okay, I already loved) with very strong ties to the girls - and who’d already evolved out of his role in the comics at the time - his own challenge/story arc about literally facing his inner demon; they gave the Guardians a deadly enemy to face off against (distract them) while Nerissa is off plucking up ex-Guardians one by one; they gave Will and Matt some brutal emotional turmoil that’s actually new and refreshing for the two of them (let’s send the repeated comics jealousy plotlines back to the kitchen, yeah?). And, uh, they made an already spooky, badass character design EVEN SPOOKIER AND MORE BADASS. 

(The darker colors all around? The brilliant gold mask? The dark angel wings? I have been in love with this design since I was 12, alright?)

But! If we’re talking comics, then I’m going with Yua. I’ve talked about this at length before in a different ask game, but I think I gravitate to Yua because a) I’m largely not about full-on villains in any media and b) she’s a beautifully complex character in the context of the third arc’s narrative. 

I’m not going to reiterate everything I said before and just redirect to that post, but I just find it fascinating that the banshee - whose species we’re repeatedly told are eeeeeevil by nature - shows more humanity than the actual human antagonists in this arc. She never wanted harm to come to Maqi, taking him away the second she’s freed as both revenge on her oppressor and a means of keeping this little boy safe from his father’s single-minded crusade. Yua even directly expresses this sentiment when Maqi falls, horror-struck and swearing that it was always about hurting Ari and never Maqi. And even when Maqi is... eurgh, “healed” (yeah, there are a lot of problems with the resolution to this arc), Yua has the opportunity to strike Ari at his happiest and complete her vengeance, but seeing Maqi so delighted makes her retreat, at least for now. 

So yeah. More humanity than Ari and his blind rage in his quest to “cure” his son, and more humanity than Riddle & Co. in abducting an innocent teenage girl on the mere suspicion that she has powers with the intention of putting her through human experimentation. Yua takes Best Villain in my heart because she’s not a villain, not really.

Day 3: Favorite Love Interest

Again, unless you’re new here, it’s no shock that - if we’re talking animated series - it’s Matthew “I’m Arguing With a Housepet” Olsen. 

As wildly different as it is from the comics, I do so adore his character design, with his dark hair (which, uh, may have been the first indication that I have a Type when it comes to my favorite male characters) and purple hoodie. His personality is so endearing too, because he’s not just the idolized older boy we initially see him as in the comics, but like... a legitimate dork. He’s sweet and plays guitar and generally exudes Cool, but you get to know him and it’s easy to see that he and Will are like souls. Not the best about expressing their feelings to the person they like, but always ready to step up and fight.

That’s another quality I love about cartoon Matt. Even before the Shagon arc, very shortly after even learning of the Guardian secret, Matt wants in on the action. It’s not in a “living out his action hero dreams” way, or even really a matter of impressing/protecting Will: it’s more about not being the guy who sits safe on the sidelines while everyone else is risking their lives, and trying to prove (largely to himself, in the end) that he’s worthy to be Will’s boyfriend when she’s a honest-to-Kandrakar warrior and he’s just “Funny Matt.”

I’m going to skip the Shagon arc for now because I assure you I could probably talk for ages about cartoon Matt, and we don’t have that kind of time now.

As for comics, I definitely have to go with Eric Lyndon and - technically a pseudo-love interest - Joel Wright. Oh, and Peter Cook!! Basically, all the sweet guys who don’t get quite as much attention with the comics and whose romantic relationships developed a bit later.

Day 4: Favorite Ship

Surprise, surprise: it’s animated Will/Matt. I’ve blubbered about them before, I will blubber about them again (please give me reasons to do so?), so I’m going to spare you all this time around. Just know that they’re my longest-held major OTP, and that it normally takes a hell of a lot to get me to full-on ship something.

(Real quick though: mutually pining dorks? Matt’s insecurity about being enough for his badass electricity-flinging girlfriend? Will’s drive to just blast shit down to find and save Matt? “If this all goes south, I’m gonna be beside you”??? Please ignore my choked sobbing.)

Anyhoo, there are a couple different comics ships I’d say qualify, though I might not be as passionate about them as I am cartoon WxM. Hay Lin and Eric are positively adorable, and I love how their relationship was slow but not agonizingly so. Hay was the only one not to get a love interest of sorts from the very start, taking us all the way to issue 18 before a guy makes her giggly. And I really appreciate that it wasn’t just a superficial crush, that while Eric was cute, it was his kindness and the time he spent with Hay that made her go, You know, I think I like this guy. It was a refreshing change of pace, they’re both adorable, and we ignore the fact that Eric was mysteriously written out and Hay has that one issue in the Dark Times late in the series where she falls head-over-heels for this rockstar-ish guy for no real reason and changes her style to try to impress him. 

Honorable mentions go to Irma and Joel, who had excellent potential and should have still been kept as friends even if they decided to give Irma a different SO (we ignore the later issue where Joel just wistfully looks at Irma with his “We used to be friends” thought bubble and no actual explanation for why they aren’t anymore); and Cornelia and Peter, who I don’t give enough credit and definitely need to reread.

Day 5: Favorite Friendship

This is a tough one - can I say all of the W.i.t.c.h. girls together? Because outside of the first arc, there isn’t really a whole lot of focus on the smaller group friendships. 

Cornelia and Elyon is a good one, though, literally spanning worlds because Cornelia is dead-set on saving her friend. I’ll toss Orube and Will into the mix as well, because Will was crucial to Orube’s initial character development and they seemed to have the closest relationship moving forward.

Day 6: Favorite Cover/Pinup/Promotional Art

Oof, giving me the hard questions, are we? I have a few favorites, but one of the first that came to mind was this one of Will. It’s the cover of the 21st chapter book, which I think is actually the pinup for issue 21. They must have changed it up for the US release in order to keep it more in-line with the actual plot.

Day 7: Favorite Episode/Issue

Hrm. Let’s change it up and start with the comics on this one. Off the top of my head, I have a soft spot for issue 32. It’s the zenith of the Sylla sub-arc, so the stakes are high, the girls get cute semi-formal clothes when they go to the opera to spring and hopefully evade Riddle’s trap, Sylla double-crosses Riddle and teams up with Medina and McTiennan (and I still think there’s a missed opportunity here with wiping that particular team’s memories of the girls), and we get the most iconic page in this entire comic with Orube beating up Riddle’s goon while brushing off a suitor and then coyly asking him to be her arm candy. 

Issue 50 is another one I like, though largely because I enjoy the futures presented for each of the girls (I particularly love the concept of park ranger Cornelia and writer Will). And as a lingering vestige of my young, comic-Will/Matt-shipping heart, issue 40 is another nostalgic choice.

As for the animated series, I routinely consider my favorites on the chance that Greg Weisman still sells scripts at cons and I get the chance to buy that of a favorite episode. But true to form, basically all of my favorites are heavy Will/Matt episodes...

“D is for Dangerous” is fun because it’s the first time Will gains her quintessence lightning (yay!), the running gag with the Sisterhood of the Traveling Mr. Huggles is amusing, Elyon’s deadpan “Barehanded folding. My one talent” still kills me, and Matt and Caleb’s epic failures of training montages are great. “M is for Mercy” is brutal, with Shagon at his absolute deadliest and taunting Will with Matt’s disappearance, the utter hatred Will has for this demon who’s taken on the form of the boy she loves (and, unbeknownst to her, is legitimately a twisted reflection of Matt), and the sight of Shagon at his lowest while at Will’s mercy and her offer to teach him just that. “S is for Self” has not one but two musical numbers for Matt, and we finally get the resolution to the Shagon arc, so of course it’s a favorite.

But what the hell: I’m going with “T is for Trauma” as my favorite. I watched this episode three times the day it aired, and I still love it to this day. We get the introduction of rejuvenated C.h.y.k.n. (who wipe the floor with the W.i.t.c.h. girls at first), the Egyptian-themed costumes for no actual reason (“Could someone tell me how that man could look at me and think camel???”), Matt getting to fight as the badass normal for the first and last time since “L is for Loser,” etc. But most of all, this is Hay Lin’s episode, and it is absolutely soul-destroying but with a magnificent payoff at the end. It hurts to see the naturally lighthearted, high hopes member of the crew with her spirit absolutely shattered by her grandmother’s apparent betrayal, Eric’s brainwashing, and Nerissa’s general existence, and it’s just as painful that this was the way they gave her character development, but I have to commend this episode for one of the heaviest lines ever: “That’s how you survive the trauma - not by knowing it will be alright, but by having no other choice. ...I don’t have the luxury of breaking down right now.”

[magaprima]

Part 1 Episode 7 Thoughts (Part 2 of 2)

“But the reward is ever lasting glory in the Dark Lord’s heart”

When Prudence says this, Lilith’s eyes flicker ever so sharply here. That phrase is a definitely trigger for her, because Lilith has been working her butt off for literally eternity and here we have a girl thinking all that’s needed is to be Queen of the Feast one night in order to get close to the Dark Lord. We know Lilith doesn’t let anyone have a chance at being beside Satan except herself. That’s the whole reason she spends the majority of the show despising Sabrina, because Satan is all focused and obsessed with her. Even in the Feast of Feasts, a ritual that doesn’t really guarantee anything it promises, Lilith is immediately defensive. She is that abuse victim who strives to find one thing she can take power/enjoyment in. That although she is a victim, she is abused, she is controlled, of all the victims she is the most revered one, and that small, small, small consolation is something she holds onto viciously. She defends that measly territory. So when Sabrina is asking her to convince Prudence against it, she’s silent and vaguely uninterested, but the moment Prudence claims this will get her close to the Dark Lord, Lilith becomes much more invested. There’s also the argument that her look towards the girl is a case of ‘If you think it’s that easy, you’re an idiot’

When Sabrina introduces ‘Ms Wardwell’ as an excommunicate, Lilith is all very casual and just all ‘Yep that’s me. Your local friendly covenless witch’. She’s not overly invested in the cover, it’s just an easy backstory, but the moment Prudence dismisses the worth of an excommunicate, Lilith gets annoyed and defensive of her fake persona. She definitely seems to believe that Prudence is the snob that Sabrina says she is. Like she is thinking ‘Oh so you won’t take advice from an excommunicate, you also believe being lunch for a coven gets you into the Dark Lord’s heart? Idiocy, so much idiocy’. This is supported by the way she gives a glare of disdain at Prudence when she tells her she’s ‘done some digging’ into the Feast of Feasts. 

“Now, you may not want to listen to an....excommunicate”

Lilith continues to be so genuinely annoyed by this. This is her fake history and she’s offended someone is belittling it. I do think this is because Lilith isn’t into the whole church-organised-religion thing at all, possibly because it’s run by men, possibly because she doesn’t react well to any regime that tells her what to do. In her book an excommunicate is just a witch who couldn’t take the patriarchal, organised shit anymore. I mean she does seem to be mildly impressed when she finds out Hilda is excommunicated, and even admires when Hilda uses it as reason to do the exorcism. Lilith does like a rebellion against authority, it’s how she began her own existence, even if the rebellion is against the Dark Lord’s religion. 

“If you’re brave enough to find her”

The way she blinks at Prudence when she says this, deliberately goading her, you get the idea that Prudence has not made a good impression on Lilith at all. I think at this point if she had to choose between the two witches, she’d probably pick Sabrina, because at least she’s a rebel defying Blackwood and doesn’t judge witches based on their status i.e ability to follow orders. 

“I don’t believe it”

When Prudence says this, Lilith literally and openly mocks her, pulling a face. It’s a slight and subtle version of ‘Oh really? You don’t? Well, ner, ner bully for you, you idiot’. Lilith is clearly very irritated by her and I think her annoyance at Prudence is temporarily, making her like Sabrin a little more and it’s visually show by the way the two stand together at the desk. Lilith and Sabrina are close to one another, stood in the same way, both looking at Prudence. They’re on the same side here, and it’s foreshadowing for the finale of Part 2. 

“and Satan knows who we might chance upon in the woods”

The false innocence as she says this, the look at Sabrina (which the girl completely misses), Lilith is very clearly thinking ‘Yep, two birds one stone. Wake this idiot up and then show Sabrina her dear Harvey as a witch hunter. Marvellous, my day is already improving’. 

"She’s always at home. Isn’t that right, Dezmelda?”

Definitely getting the vibe here that Lilith knows Dezmelda well. The way she says this, the tone, the wording, it all implies Lilith has known her before, perhaps very well, but in her previous form, her pre-Wardwell days, so Dezmelda won’t know her this time around. But if Lilith has always known her and yet never revealed where she is, it implies she’s been keeping Dezmelda’s secret for her; a young witch running away from a predatory man is something Lilith would understand so it seems reasonable that she’d let her keep hiding. 

As Dezmelda remembered her past and trails off, head bowed, eyes on the ground, Lilith reaches out and puts a hand on her arm, gripping a little. You could say this is all part of the act, but I don’t think it is. Her eyes are focused on the others, her expression is the act, as she is in teaching mode, mentoring, leading, but the hand on the arm is something done without display or over-precise purpose. Considering what Lilith suffered with Adam and then with Lucifer, something bearing some resemblance to Dezmelda, it wouldn’t surprise me if there was an instinctive support here, an automatic, subconscious empathy. She offer reassurance, support, there with that hand on her arm and then Lilith finishes the story for her so Dezmelda doesn’t have to. 

“The High Priest was to............initiate her”

Her eyes flicker to Dezmelda while she says this, and she swallows with distaste as well. The way she does all this, it is genuine. She does know exactly what Dezmelda felt, she has felt it too, only Dezmelda was able to flee successfully. However as Lilith says ‘she’s lived here ever since’ there’s a look on her face that implies she doesn’t think Dezmelda made the right choice. Just because she understands her fleeing, just because she thinks the High Priest was vile, doesn’t mean Lilith would have made the same decision. Lilith prefers to pay the price of abuse, stay and having power, than run from abuse and have nothing. This is not to be mistaken with consent, this is simply Lilith and Dezmelda having opposite views of what is the ‘lesser evil’. 

However, though I’ve established that when Lilith supports and reassures Dezmelda she’s being genuine, when she’s watching Sabrina and Prudence, we see the act. As Sabrina says ‘which makes what he’s doing even more insidious’, Dezmelda nods in full and empathetic agreement but Lilith is just looking between the two witches, sharply checking what’s being brewed there. Lilith may understand and sympathise with Dezmelda, but she is still using the woman to her own ends here in order to stop Prudence from being and to see where Sabrina falls and the discord that brews. This is her whole ‘one piece at a time’ attack. 

‘who would do such a thing?’ ‘men’

This is such a powerful moment which has become quite iconic within the series I think, if the amount of GIFs are any gauge. Here is a familiar, a creature misunderstood, a wild thing, an animal, a being different from mortals and what happens? Men kill it. We see this happen a thousand times over, both literally and metaphorically, both to animals, and to people who aren’t male and/or white. Anything different is attacked, and anything different with power is destroyed. Man destroys the world and men revel in it. 

We know Lilith was aware the Kinkles would be hunting hee and this is what they’d likely come across, but it’s further proven by the wool yarn she has in her pocket. She was fully prepped for coming across the Kinkles and hiding all the girls so that Sabrina could see Harvey when he couldn’t see her. Her plot is falling nicely and quickly into place for once. 

Also I love this spell. One of the things I love about this show is that despite using Christian and Judaic mythology with Puritan influences, the spells and magics they perform often directly echo the spells we use in the real non-tv-magic world. Items are used to represent things, metaphors are taken to literal levels, power is placed in simple jobs and shapes. For example, you can pour a line of white sugar and thyme between your houses to nurture a sweet, beneficial relationship between you and your neighbour. And that’s the vibe we get here with using the yarn in the shape of a pentagram to ‘pull the wool over their eyes’

“Don’t speak. Stay very quiet. Or the cloaking won’t take”

I love this too, because, again, it’s very much like magic practised in the real world. Spells of ‘invisibility’ only work if you encourage that invisibility, not if you dance around in front of someone. It’s not Harry Potter. There’s one I used to use a long time ago in High School, a simple chant I used to murmur, that was so a teacher wouldn’t pick me for a question when they were doing that random ‘which unwilling subject do I select’. It worked every single time. But if I’d jumped up and down and waved my arm, yes, I would have been picked. ‘The cloaking won’t take’. I know one of the people working on the show is a practising Pagan, so it’s possibly her influence here. 

While they’re watching the Kinkles, the Weird Sisters look a mixture of scared and pissed off, Sabrina is bewildered, but Lilith looks smug as fuck, concluding with a ‘well you must admit, he certainly looks the part Sabrina’ in a tone and with an expression that says it all, really. She does, however, roll her eyes, when the weird sisters make dramatic declarations. 

“That’ll be the takeaway I ordered. If you’re nice, I’ll...share”

There’s something in her face here that says she’s not entirely happy. She doesn’t look delighted to be eating. I don’t know what it is precisely,  but there’s something off. I mean I’ve headcanoned that her becoming a demon was a slow process, one born of the self-preservation she told Sabrina is so important, to make her live longer, make her stronger, make her able to bear things, perhaps even to make her ‘more worthy’ of being queen of hell. It’s even possible it was a choice made for her, that Satan didn’t allow that she could simply be just a witch, she had to be part demon as well, and so Satan made it so. And from being demonic comes the whole ‘I feast on male flesh’. 

I mean we know the Spellmans, and other witches in the coven, have eaten human, but it seems to be ceremonial and/or non-murderous (the Spellmans apparently eat the corpses from closed coffins. Ew), so it feels different to what Lilith does. So with her...resignation here, is it that she doesn’t enjoy it? Is it something she has to do, as part of her survival, her existence and longevity? Does she only find pleasure in it when she feels the man is chosen and deserving (like Hawthorne) and therefore no joy in a random pizza boy?

She even looks bored, after her brief little sexy play act, as if this is just....something she has to do. There seems to be minimal enjoyment here and that is very revealing, though I’m not quite sure precisely of what, aside from my above theory that Lilith has changed and altered over the centuries and centuries and centuries....and perhaps, even though she’s in conscious denial, is not entirely happy with all the changes. 

I mean I doubt the woman who became the first witch, who refused to submit to a man, who was cast out for saying she was equal, imagined her future would involve serving a man, and losing a large part of her humanity (at least a third, if we say third human third demon third witch. but more than a third if witch and demon are almost half and half and human is tiny part) to become part demon, and feast on male flesh for sustenance. 

[cravingmarvel]

When We Were Young - Part Two

Bucky Barnes AU

Pairing: Bucky Barnes x Fem!Reader, Steve Rogers x Fem!Reader 

Word Count: 3500

Warnings: Mentions of death, heartbreak, jealousy.. the whole package hahaha

Summary: Friends since they can remember and falling in love like they’re meant to. But sometimes life just isn’t what you expected. People making decisions, mistakes and saying things they shouldn’t when they’re young. When it comes to love, someone always gets hurt. Always.

Prompt: “I’m engaged to someone else, but I think I’m actually in love with you”

A/N: This is Part Two of my entry for @spideywhiteys 1k writing celebration! I really hope you guys enjoy this part! I just started my apprenticeship and therefore don’t have as much time as I used to hahah I’m really nervous about uploading this, because I feel like it’s not good. BUT anyway! I hope you enjoy this!

Feedback is always greatly appreciated!

Tagging some mutuals and some lovely people!

@buckisthatyou @buckybarneshairpullingkink @buckystan-plums @v-2bucky@whyisbuckyso @samingtonwilson @sgtjbuccky @captain-ariel-barnes @thewintersadie @skishenanigans 

(You are not obligated to read this if you don’t want to)

Masterlist // Bucky Barnes Masterlist

Part One //

Bucky wrapped his arms around my much smaller figure and embraced me into an unexpected hug. My body stiffened up, making it impossible to move. With my arms hanging and hands clenched into fists, wrapping my arms around him as well seemed like the most impossible thing to do in that very moment. I inhaled his scent hoping to recognize it, but instead I was hit with expensive cologne something Bucky wouldn’t have been able to afford back then. I could feel his hands on the exposed skin on my back and I noticed they got softer. He used to have rough hands from working on his car a lot and helping his dad in the repair shop they had. I wondered if his parents ever got a piece of Bucky’s fortune; if he supported them ever since his payment turned into big numbers.

Having his hands around me took me back to when an embrace like this used to be routine. A hug used to be so normal, something so expected. But now that I haven’t felt his body against mine in such a long time, it feels like something we’ve never did or something we shouldn’t be doing.

He removed himself from me and I finally took in his face and features from a closer distance. Now it was noticeable how tired he looks. The bags under his eyes standing out more than anything else, not even the way his lips naturally turned down took the spotlight away.

“Y/n it’s been so long.” His voice got lower over the years, making a shiver run down my spine.

“Yeah it’s been a long time.” I tried to smile with every ounce of my body, but the sad excuse that appeared on my face must reveal my true feelings.

With his hands still around my waist feeling his though against my skin, I nearly missed his next words.

“What are you doing now?”

It wasn’t surprising that he would ask something like this, it’s natural to hit someone with questions like this if you haven’t seen someone for so long. Anyone would be delighted to answer, but with the situation I’m in, it wasn’t the something I want to talk about.

“I still live in London so that’s that.”

“Oh well, that’s nice. London is great! I just thought you wanted to move to Manhattan and work for Stark industries?”

The amount of sarcasm dripping from every word he spoke was pathetic. I felt pathetic. Everyone around me in this room made it big, followed their dreams. I am the outcast here.

“Well Bucky, not everyone can follow their dreams.”

I didn’t even try to hide my anger. My mind buzzing and the noise around me, making me feel dizzy.  I looked down to the ground and Bucky seemed to notice my uncomfortableness and took his hands away from my hips moving one to my shoulder. He opened his mouth to say something, but was interrupted by another voice.

“Wow y/n you look great!”

I looked up to see the familiar blond haired, blue eyed man standing next to Bucky.

“Steve!” I pushed Bucky’s hand away from my shoulder and walked over to Steve, pulling him into a hug by wrapping my arms around his neck. I inhaled his scent and unlike Bucky, he still smelled like he used to. Coffee and lavender. I heard he also made it big in Manhattan after his mom died in a car crash, leaving him with the shop she used to own back in London. He didn’t stay long after that and I can’t blame him. She loved that coffee shop, it was her most prized possession. She filled the small but cosy space with things she loved like pictures of Steve and of course, lavender.

I remember that time so vividly, because that was when everything truly fell apart for me.

Graduation is done and now it’s time to leave your home where parents take care of everything you don’t have any clue about. Where adulthood seems so out of reach and the only independence you have is cleaning your room by yourself. Now you’re on your own. This is your time to show the world just how grown up you are.

For y/n, it was time to pack her bags and leave to move to attend the University of Manchester. Luckily for her Steve was packing for the same reason as her.

The pain of Bucky and Natasha never faded. Having to see them at school together made her dread waking up in the morning. He tried to include her into the group and couldn’t figure out, why she never joined their circle. For him there wasn’t a reason not to, but to her there were thousands. It was enough to see them holding hands in the hallways, kiss at lunch or laugh together, at jokes y/n would’ve laughed at, in the cafeteria. She had no desire to see more than she already had to, even if it meant to be alone.

Bucky on the other hand was packing to move to attend the Ivy League University of Columbia. His parents worked twice as hard and sold their house for him to attend his dream university. But he wasn’t going alone, Natasha got in as well. Her parents were nice enough for him to move into Natasha’s apartment as well without having to pay. They loved him.

Despite everything that happened on the date two years back, y/n and Steve became inseparable. Their second year at uni was filled with laughter, sleepovers with too much pizza and an unbearable amount of coffee. It didn’t take long before y/n became close friends with Steve’s mom and they spent their weekends working at her coffee shop called ‘Captain’s Coffee Cup’.

Y/n just got done with cleaning the rest of the tables, the cloth still in her hand as she made her way to the counter where Steve stood cleaning while swaying his hips from side to side. The sun started to disappear behind the buildings, but the shop was still illuminated by fairy lights.

Steve’s phone started ringing and he picked it up looking over to y/n, who seated herself on the countertop. The phone call was quick and he shoved his phone back into his pocket before standing in front of her. She was now able to look at him directly in the eyes, without the few inches of height that were missing for her to be as tall as him.

“My mom is going to be here soon to close the shop.” He took a few strands of hair in between his fingers and twisted them together. He always loved how soft her hair is and the fact that it smelled like flowers didn’t help. Every time she rushed past him to get someone’s order to their table, he got indulged by the scent of her hair. It also didn’t help that he imagined what it would be like to give her a kiss on the top of her head. The difference between their heights was always something he found incredibly cute and every time he got to wrap his arms around her, he imagined what it would be like to call her his.

He knew she liked Bucky but couldn’t help but wonder if that changed after the years went by. He didn’t want to ask to rip open wounds that she carefully patched up with band aids. He knew she was still hurt from what she confessed to him one night after drowning their responsible minds in tequila. But despite the alcohol running through her veins, she still picked her words with care, to avoid spilling her emotions. He knew she had more to say, but pushing her would only make matters worse.

She looked into his eyes and without hesitation, she leaned closer to him. Even if the images of Bucky tried to poison her mind, she kept her eyes locked with his. Steve gently placed his hands on her waist pulling her body to his. Y/n let her eyes flutter shut, feeling his breath on her lips. She pulled him closer with her hand on the back of his neck. The soft glow of the fairy lights made her look even more mesmerizing and Steve couldn’t believe that the girl he has been in love with for years is finally in his arms the way he always wanted her to.

He followed her lead, closing his eyes and the distance between them shrinking with every gentle move. She brushed against his lips feeling the butterflies in her stomach. Their lips fully connected as a loud noise filled the room making both of them jump apart.

Steve groaned loudly in annoyance and y/n looked down to her legs with a giggle. He pulled his phone out of his pocket and pressed the green icon.

Y/n sat on the counter watching Steve listen to the person on the other end talk. She noticed his face tensing up and his mouth falling wide open. She could see his eyes fill with tears and quickly stood up. Steve ended the call and grabbed the keys, walking to the door. She followed him and tried to stop him by pulling his hand, but he refused to stop.

“Steve what’s going on? Who was that?”

He opened the door and turned to her. “My mom-“ the tears rolling down his cheeks and his voice breaking signalled her, that something bad had happened. “She got in a car accident.”

He didn’t wait for a response, walking out into the street to the car he parked in front of the shop. Y/n stood watching him drive away through the windowed door.

After that, everything changed.

Steve couldn’t bear seeing the coffee shop without breaking down to the floor and the only thing he thought was right, was to sell the space to someone who could take care of it. Y/n.

She was hesitant to take the offer, but took it anyway. She has grown to love it and didn’t want anyone else to have it, who might not value the history it has. Steve had a hard time staying in London or even Manchester, so after he graduated from university, he left for an offer from a friend far away.

Bucky had heard about what happened and offered Steve to stay with him and Natasha. After university they moved into a bigger apartment on the Upper East Side.

Saying goodbye to Steve was hard, but there was nothing y/n could do about it. He wanted to leave and if that was the only thing for him to be happy, then she couldn’t complain. But it was hard for her. The only friend she had was now leaving her, just like everyone else in her life. And to make matters worse, she actually liked him.

Y/n managed to re-open the shop after university and kept everything the way it was. The only thing she added was a picture of Steve’s mom on the wall to remember her. Y/n and Steve talked a bit after he left, but not for long. With becoming the coo of Hydra he had little to no time. On Y/n’s thirtieth birthday he sent her a postcard and a few pictures of him and Manhattan.

Her heart broke all over again seeing how happy Steve was without her. He even had a girlfriend by the name of Sharon. Y/n kept the coffee shop running despite everything. With that being the only source of happiness, she spend every day working trying to keep her mind away from the people she lost.

Steve wrapped his arm around my shoulder and led me away from Bucky. We sat on the bar stools and each took a glass of champagne.

“It’s so good to see you, y/n.” He gave me a sweet smile that I returned happily.

“You too, Steve.”

“How’s the coffee shop?” He took a sip of his drink and I did the same only to want to spit it out again.

“It’s going really well. How’s Sharon?” He looked away for a second before meeting my eyes again.

“We’re not together anymore.”

I opened my mouth to apologize but was interrupted by another voice.

“Everyone, I’d like to say a few words.” Bucky’s voice made everyone quiet down and turn to look at him. “Nat can you come here for a sec?” Natasha went over to stand by his side and that was the first time I saw her after all those years. She hasn’t changed one bit, still being the most gorgeous woman in the room. I felt the jealousy rise within me, seeing how she still outdid me in everything.

“I’d like to say thank you all for coming today to celebrate this occasion.” Everyone clapped including me. “I’d also like to thank Nat for putting up with me all these years and choosing to do so for the rest of her life.” Bucky pulled her closer by her waist and placed a kiss on her cheek.

Everyone in the room started laughing at his words and I forced a smile to appear on my face.

“Last but not least, I’d like to thank my best friends Steve-“ He raised his glass and every head turned to look at Steve who also raised his glass. “And y/n.”

I was taken aback by his words and took my gaze away from Steve to look at Bucky now smiling at me like everyone in the room.

“Thank you y/n for always believing in me and even though you’re not living in Manhattan, I hope you will someday, to also make your dream finally a reality.” The guests started clapping and my head turned all kinds of shades of red.

I know deep down that he didn’t meant those words in a bad way, but it still felt like a slap in the face. I stood up and walked out of the room despite everyone looking at me with confusion.

From one of the rooms I randomly chose to go into, I heard everyone shouting ‘cheers’ and clinking their glasses. I sat on the king sized bed trying to get my composure back, as the door opened to reveal Bucky. He sat next to me, the small distance making me feel uncomfortable.

“Why did you walk out like that?”

“You know exactly why, Bucky.” I looked into his eyes with my face showing my confusion.

“No I don’t.”

I looked away from him letting a small chuckle leave my lips with sarcasm. “Are you serious? Bucky, are you really this dense?” I stood up from the bed to stand in front of him.

He looked up at me with his eyebrows knitted together, clearly not understanding the situation.

“That was embarrassing. You didn’t have to tell everyone that I’m a failure! No wonder you never noticed back then.” I turned away from him and walked over to the window. “I’m surprised I never noticed just how dense you are.”

“Y/n I really didn’t mean it in a bad way. I just hope you still do what we said we would do back then.” From the corner of my eye, I could see him standing up from the bed. “And what do you mean with, I didn’t realize back then?”

“Exactly Bucky, we! We made those plans together.” I turned around to face him again. “And you can’t tell me you didn’t know.”

“No seriously, I don’t”

I sighted and let my shoulders relax. “That I was helplessly in love with you Bucky.”

The silence that followed was unbearable. Bucky’s mouth fell wide open and then started to swallow loudly.

“It doesn’t matter, that was years ago.” I walked to the door and out to the hallway. The guests were now dancing and singing but I certainly did not want to join them after my confession.

“Y/n.” Bucky grabbed my arm and spun me around. “Please stay.”

“No, I should go. Good luck though, I hope you two are going to be happy together.” I gave him a smile and walked out of the door.

As soon as the cold air hit my skin, I inhaled deeply and tried to ignore the Goosebumps on my skin. The night has arrived and I didn’t think I would be there for that long so I didn’t take a jacket with me.

“Y/n!”

I rolled my eyes not wanting to be held back from walking away anymore. I turned around to see Steve breathing heavily.

“Please, let me take you to my place. We can have a few drinks?” He looked at me with a sad smile and I have to admit. Drinks sound great.

“Sure, why not?” I shrugged my shoulders walking next to Steve.

We sat down on his couch and looking around his apartment, I realized that he also must earn a fortune. His apartment had a completely different style thought compared to Bucky’s. There were books and plants everywhere. The walls covered in paintings, signed with ‘Steve’ in the corners of every single one of them. I felt more at home here and I was glad he invited me.

We already had too many glasses of alcohol and were laughing about our university days. Obviously avoiding the last year. Steve turned to me with his arm on the backrest of the couch.

“Why did you never leave London? And don’t tell me it’s because of Captain’s Coffee Cup. You know I wouldn’t have been angry at you for deciding to leave.”

“Because-“ I took a deep breath before continuing. “Because honestly, Natasha already achieved everything in life I wanted to. And I didn’t want to compete with her. I mean.” I let out a sarcastic laugh “She’s the CEO of Stark Industries! She got everything I wanted.” I took a sip of my drink to swallow my sears away.

Steve let out a heavy sight and leaned back. “Including Bucky, right?”

Y/n walked out of the kitchen back into the café drying her hands on her apron when the little bell on the door rang, indicating someone entered the room. She looked at who it was and was shocked at seeing the familiar face of Tony Stark.

“Oh my god, y/n it’s so nice to see you.” He walked behind the counter to pull her into an unexpected hug.

“Yeah you too, Tony.” He removed himself from her and smiled widely down at her.

“You know, I’m a little mad that you decided not to work at my company, but now that I’m seeing where you work, I can’t blame you, it’s beautiful.” He looked around the café before smiling at her again.

“Thank you. I really love it!” Y/n returned the smile while putting away a few cups.

“You remember Natasha, right?”

She just nodded, the name making her feel sick. Y/n continued to put away things as Tony spoke.

“Well now that I want to get away from the business, Pepper and I are getting married next fall, she’s going to take over the company.”

Y/n almost dropped the mug in her hand as she heard what Tony had said. Her stomach dropped at the thought of Natasha doing what she wanted to do.

“Wow… that’s great!” She managed to force a smile despite feeling the tears in the corners of her eyes.

“I know! If you ever decide to visit us in Manhattan I’ll give you a tour.”

Tony hugged her before leaving the café.

Y/n leaned her body against the counter as she felt her lungs tighten. The whole world seemed to be against her, wanting her to feel miserable. But then again, she could’ve had that spot if she just had done what she always wanted to do, despite Bucky not being by her side. And now Natasha gets to live her dream life.

A man entered the shop and handed y/n her mail. She briefly looked over the addresses of the letters to see if there was anything important. Her breath got stuck in her throat as she read the sender of one of the letters. James Buchanan Barnes.

She opened the letter with shaking hands and found a card inside. She hesitated at first wondering why he would send her a letter. Maybe because he doesn’t have her phone number. Steve knows that she works at the shop so he probably told him where to send the letter to.

Her body filled with hope for the one she loved to still love her, only to be hit with disappointment.

It’s an invitation to his engagement party.

She tried to swallow the lump in her throat but it only seemed to get bigger as she read who signed it.

Bucky & Natasha.

Y/n looked up to tear her eyes away from the words. The tears now falling down her cheeks freely and she let them fall. Natasha truly got everything y/n ever wanted.

When We Were Young Taglist: (OPEN) @lovely-geek @wantonmeep @iheartsebastianstan @salty-buchanan @vivianbabz @mu-mu-rs @dogdadbucky @wwecrazed2010 @lazyperfectionist705 @jackie-houston @learisa @linkpk88 @i-am-a-couch-potato @lonelywriterrr​ @someplxce​ 

Permanent Taglist: (OPEN) @fuckthatfeeling​ @funkenniffler​ @void-imaginations​ @dewy-biitch​ @7kindsofpurgatory​ @v-2bucky​ @sebbysstangirl​ @wwhitewwolff​ @lovely-geek​

[renewsend526]

Connect Mac Spotify To Google Home Speaker

Download Spotify Android. Open up Spotify, Do Sign Up, and enjoy the Spotify Premium for free in your Android. Related:-Spotify iOS 14 Download. It’s that simple, you just need to follow the above steps, which are quite easy in order to download Spotify in Android. Download the latest version of Spotify for Android. Take your music anywhere. If you haven't already heard of Spotify, listen up. It's the world's go-to music. Bring your music to mobile and tablet, too. Listening on your phone or tablet is free, easy, and fun. Download spotify++ android.

If you have a speaker group created within Google Home, you can now stream to all of them together using Spotify as well. If you use the Mac/PC app, the Devices icon is next to the volume slider. Google Home can work as a Bluetooth speaker to play local music from Windows and Mac. Google Home is built with high excursion speakers for crystal clear sound and passive radiators to deliver Hi-Fi sound. https://renewsend526.tumblr.com/post/656719392956186624/get-your-song-on-spotify-playlists-for-free. Well, you can play songs from Google Play Music, Spotify, or Pandora with voice commands on Google Home. Tap Account in the top-right. Verify that the Google Account shown is the one linked to your Google Home or Google Nest device. To switch accounts, tap another account or Add another account. Back on the home screen, tap + in the top-left, then Music and audio. Select Spotify and tap Link Account, then Log in to Spotify. Google Home app on iOS, displaying the -Spotify Login- screen. Enter your Spotify User Id and Password. Once entered, tap the LOG IN button. The Spotify Account Confirmation screen then displays, which shows the name on the account to which you just logged in, and gives you the choice to either confirm or cancel (back out of) linking this particular account to your Google Home devices. Tap the menu in the top-left corner of the Google Home app. Tap Account preferences, then Linked media accounts. Restart the Google Home app and go back to Linked media accounts. Select Spotify and tap Link Account, then Log in to Spotify.

Connect Mac Spotify To Google Home Speaker Settings

Spotify Google Speaker Free

Connect Mac Spotify To Google Home Speaker App

Method 1. How to Play Apple Music on Google Home with Voice Commands

First of all, the first method introduced here requires us to download Apple Music to actual music files locally. However, the Apple Music we download with a subscription is encrypted by Apple FairPlay, so we cannot transfer them directly to Google Home for offline playback. Under this circumstance, we'll need the help of third-party software - AudFree Apple Music Converter, a professional tool well designed to help users completely remove all limitations on Apple Music and convert Apple Music M4P to MP3, WAV, AAC, FLAC, or other common audio formats.

I have a premium account and I'm on Mac Mojave 10.14.4. Whenever I want to cast my Spotify to my Google Home speakers, it works without issue on my phone. However, whenever I try to cast from the desktop app, my speakers never show up as an option. It just shows me a learn more button on how to connect to my devices.

Select the Start button type “Bluetooth” select Bluetooth settings from the list. Turn on Bluetooth. Tap the name of the speaker or display you’d like to pair. Click the Apple menu.

Without touching the audio quality, AudFree Apple Music Converter can run at 30X speed during the downloading and conversion process. What's more, all the metadata of the media will be preserved such as artist, title, genre, year, and album art, so when you ask Google Assistant to play Apple Music, it can accurately identify the song you request. This excellent software offers a free trial of Windows and Mac version for you to convert 1 minute of each song. You can download and use it now to see how it actually works to get Apple Music on Google Home.

Connect Mac Spotify To Google Home Speaker Settings

I. How to Download and Convert Apple Music for Google Home

The following tutorial will guide you through how to losslessly convert Apple Music for Google Home with the help of AudFree Apple Music Converter. Before getting started, please make sure you have downloaded the songs in your Apple Music playlist that you wish to play on Google Home within the iTunes desktop client on Windows or within the Apple Music app on Mac.

Step 1Add downloaded Apple Music to AudFree

Open AudFree Apple Music Converter on your Mac or Windows. Click the first 'Load iTunes library' button at bottom-left corner of AudFree software and then add the downloaded Apple Music tracks to AudFree Apple Music Converter.

Step 2Set output format for Apple Music

Once all the Apple Music songs are loaded into AudFree, click on the 'audio' icon to open the settings window where you can select the output format as MP3, AAC, M4A, WAC, or others. To customize your Apple Music, you can also set the codec, channel, sample rate, or bit rate accordingly.

Step 3Convert Apple Music for Google Home

Now press the 'Convert' button to begin the converting process to make Apple Music compatible with Google Home. When the conversion is done, you can locate the Apple Music songs from the output folder and ready to transfer them and play your favorite songs on Apple Music on Google Home.

Spotify Google Speaker Free

II. How to Stream Apple Music on Google Home with Voice Commands

With the downloaded Apple Music files at hand, you are ready to stream Apple Music to Google Home with access to voice control. A traditional way to do it would be uploading the music files to the music library of a free Google Play Music account. But since YouTube Music will fully replace Google Play Music by end of 2020, we will show you how to upload your Apple Music to the YouTube Music library instead, which also works to help us achieve the same goal. Now let's take a look at these final steps.

Step 1. Upload Apple Music to YouTube Music library. Visit music.youtube.com in the Chrome browser and sign in with your Google account. Simply drag and drop the Apple Music folder to any page on YouTube Music. Or you can click on your profile picture and select 'Upload music'.

Can you follow playlists on spotify free music. Skip a track more than 6 times in an hour in a non-Pick and Play playlist. Skip ads. Listen to an album in full: you can only listen to a playlist based on an album, or add individual tracks from an album to a playlist. Skip and select songs on Pick and Play playlists. This includes a selection of 15 playlists chosen by Spotify based on your likes, as well as personalized playlists, including Daily Mix, Discover Weekly and Release Radar.

Step 2. Set up Google Home. Once the uploading finishes, open Google Home app on your mobile devices. Confirm the device and Google Home are connected to the same Wi-Fi network. Tap 'Get Started', and then choose the YouTube Music account to link with Google Home. Tab OK.

Step 3. Play Apple Music on Google Home/Home Mini Now you can ask Google Home to play the Apple Music you uploaded to your YouTube Music library with advanced voice commands. Say 'Ok Google' or 'Hey Google', then say 'Play (song name), 'Play (song name ) by (artist),' 'Shuffle', etc.

@louieheat00 @AppleSupport my macbook says it’s not connected to WIFI when i can see it’s connected and apps like Spotify are working but I cannot access safari or the App store. 2020-11-13 22:37:31 @Empresssanne @parksavage34 Maybe network will be bad for spotify and apple music. U know network issues na 😂. Volvo spotify app not working. Volvo does not save information that is used in the Spotify app with the exception of locally stored data that is necessary for the app to work. Your password is never saved and if you have logged out of the app you must enter both your username and password to login again. Plan Premium Country Cyprus Device Volvo XC90 Operating System sensus My Question or Issue I used to have Spotify on my Volvo, the app requested for an update, after the update the app icon disappeared. I tried to download the app again but once the installation starts it gets interrupted and I. Its not the volume slider in spotify that you need to check but window's sound level for spotify which you can only get to through the system tray or control panel. As well as there being a system wide volume level each app playing sound also has a level and for some reason this is sometimes muted for spotify. Volvo says it is Spotify who makes the software and my problem that it looses the track what I was listening last time (and gives 'welcome to spotify' message every morning) is modem issue or spotify issue. Today I have updated the modem firmware and reinstalled spotify.

Connect Mac Spotify To Google Home Speaker App

Here's a video tutorial that shows you how to play Apple Music on Google Home with method 1 step by step.

[bangtanreacts]

BTS - Love Yourself | THEORY

Disclaimer: This will be a long ass post.

Krümmel: BUCKLE UP FUCKERS, HERE WE GO

Moon: Oh god...   

So, as you might know, we have written some comeback theories in the past, mainly about HYYH pt.2 and the Peter Pan theory.

But most importantly, we wrote something called the Timeline Theory/ Multiple Universes Theory. (Some of the points we made in that post are still valid, so check it out!)

In these theories we talked about how the MVs can’t exist in the same universe and how ‘Run’ especially doesn’t really fit anywhere.

You could see this as the start of our theory. But after that we stopped talking about it much and even though we theorized about ‘Blood, Sweat & Tears’, we didn’t bother writing anything down.

But then BigHit dropped the MV for the Japanese version of ‘Blood, Sweat & Tears’ and I, for my part, got sucked in again.

Back then I formulated a theory and talked to Moon about it, but sadly we never wrote it down. We only talked about it via voice mail (which I am currently trying to find, unfortunately we text quite a lot.).

My theory was that Jin is traveling through time and different dimensions, trying to avoid a mistake he made. But because he keeps switching dimensions, reality starts to crumble. And it seems like that got confirmed in the last highlight reel.

(I am aware that others have already made the connection, and I’m not trying to sell this as my idea, but rather show evidence that further supports this theory)

So, first to the visual clues in the MV of the japanese version of ‘B,S&T’:

The MV is full of elements suggesting multiple dimensions and time travel.

We have members meeting with different versions of themselves

(Good that Yoongi covered his eyes, because as we know, you simply cannot meet yourself when you time travel)

Jimin getting sucked into the void

You can see Jin walking backwards from a crumbling ground and in the last second before the screen changes to Namjoon and his bruised hands, you can see two other Jins. (This is actually the scene that gave me the idea for the theory in the first place)

You can also see Jin in front of something that looks like some kind of wormhole (when I Iooked up the relevance of wormholes in science fiction I came across Donnie Darko and I think the two have a lot in common)

You also have a lot of instances of reality crumbling

The last one being the most important one. Jin is helplessly watching as reality shatters.

So in conclusion, this is the theory I formulated from this:

Jin is trying to save the boys by going through time and changing what he did, but can’t quite find the one mistake that set the events in motion. And rather than helping, he is unable to change the future in a way that everyone gets a happy ending. Furthermore, his interference with time and space leads to the multiple universes crumbling.

And one last thing I noticed in B,S & T:

The usual pairs throughout HYYH and following are Jimin and JHope, Namjoon and V, Jungkook and Suga, and Jin is alone, 

but in B,S&T it’s Yoongi and Jimin, Namjoon and Kookie and less noticeably but still there, Hobi and V (and Jin is alone again of course)

But what’s interesting about that is that each member has his own circle, representing their struggles in the wings shorts, and two always come together to make the four circles on the cover. The circles that come together are Jimin’s and Yoongi’s, Namjoon’s and Jungkook’s and Hobi’s and Tae’s.

Jin’s symbol is a net interestingly enough (or crocodile leather, who knows). But in the logo his circle is empty.

A possible conclusion could be that ‘Blood, Sweat & Tears is a parallel dimension where some things about the boys are altered (aka the pairs they appear in), but other things stay the same (for example their struggles, Hobi and his mother, V feeling isolated, etc.).

Now onto why we feel this theory is supported/confirmed by the new Love Yourself Highlight Reel.

In the second reel we can see Jin getting ready for his date. He looks at the fallen flowers, decides to put on a suit and starts driving.

Then of course his date gets run over by a car and we get this really interesting shot of Jin’s face, that looks like he’s about to wake up from a dream.

Then he goes on to talk about how he wonders if you could be happy if you could turn back time and correct that one mistake and we get a montage of scenes from BS&T, HYYH, the Butterfly prologue, etc. all playing backwards.

And here’s where it gets interesting - we are in the same scene as before, before Jin goes on his date that would ultimately result in the girl getting killed.

But instead of letting the flowers fall he catches them.

Look how defeated Jin looks. Like he failed again (there are actually a lot of instances of Jin looking defeated at the camera/us throughout the MVs. More to that later.)

He puts on his cap that says “different but same”. Which he would be if he travelled back in time. And instead of going on his date, we can assume that he goes back to the sea.

We can also conclude from this, that his change of clothes represents him swapping timelines, “putting on” another Jin and trying to erase his mistake again.

And talking about the sea and this very iconic look, where have we seen that again?...Hmmmmm (I am aware that this shot looks more like the ones in the Butterfly Prologue/HYYH, but you know. Just an idea)

And maybe this is all coincidence but.... really now?

They even chose this as “Jin’s look”. But who knows.

The important thing is that it seems like Jin actually has the power to travel through time and it seems like he is trying to find that one mistake he made that caused everything to go to shit.

What we noticed in the other MVs that supports this theory further:

There is a huge play with perception and time in both HYYH and Wings era.

With time, there’s of course the disconnection of the order of the MVs and the story line.

The order they got released in was I NEED U, Butterfly Prologue, Run, The Wings Shortfilms and the Love Yourself Highlight Reels. But from what we can conclude from the note, the order should be Run, Butterfly, I NEED U/ Wings Shortfilms, and then the Love Yourself Highlight Reels.

(Although there are several scenes in the MVs that don’t fit with that timeline)

We know that they were really good friends (Run) and then went on that trip together (Butterfly). After the trip they didn’t have any contact and Kookie’s accident happened (I NEED U/Wings) and then they are trying to solve their problems on their own (Love Yourself).

Then we also have the graffiti in the background of one MV that says “The Butterfly is the Key” which would fit in nicely with the whole butterfly effect/ time travel theory. (I saw the picture back then and on some posts on tumblr, but I really can’t find it anymore. We will add it later if we can find it. I’m pretty sure it’s somewhere in the Japanese version of the Run MV)

Then there’s this weird disconnection between scenes (especially in Butterfly), where the MV starts with Tae washing away the blood of his father and calling Namjoon (which must have happened after the trip according to the note) and then the MV goes straight into the trip, which doesn’t make sense, since the trip is supposed to have happened before that.

And of course, there’s the weird coincidence that you can hear someone (Jimin?) ‘say help us, help’ when you play ‘Love is not over’ backwards. (Which we linked to time travel in our previous theory)

Now, for their play with reality.

There are many instances where the MVs play with our perception of things and reality.

We already talked about the Japanese version of BS&T and how we can see reality shatter a lot but there is more throughout the MVs.

There are actually a lot of scenes where we can see Jin looking really defeated into the distance/camera.

The ‘Run’ MV especially stood out for me in that regard. There are a lot of jumpy and weird transitions in scenes that left us questioning the connection between the scenes. For example in this scene, where Jin looks at Kookie, we see Kookie looking back and then we are suddenly in the tunnel.

Another example would be Jin’s pictures, where people suddenly vanish, like in Butterfly.

Another big motive is water. We can see a lot of scenes where the boys are submerged in water and are looking directly at us, there’s the scene of V jumping into the water and Jin is also often depicted being close to water (for example Wings).

Water is one of the most common motives in literature and it usually stands for purity, the passage of time, reflection or clarity/reality.

And mirrors

And the last thing we noticed is the house of cards Jin builds in ‘Run’ which I got reminded of when I listened to Jin’s narration in Love Yourself (where he talked about his glittering world collapsing, revealing his deception. His deception being that he can’t save everyone).

So, summarizing all that, all the MV’s show a certain degree of chaos/ dysphoria, supporting our theory that the dimensions are reacting negatively to Jin jumping in time.

And now something we haven’t talked about yet.

We have talked about how Jin has an omnipresent role in the storyline of the MVs and that explains why he is often isolated from the boys, be it in pictures or in the MVs.

But there are also a lot of instances of the other boys becoming aware of what is happening around them and reacting out of character.

There’s the scene in Butterfly where Namjoon writes in the mirror that they all need to survive.

Or there are a lot of scenes where the boys make eye contact with us, the viewers.

Other weird behaviors include Tae destroying Jin’s house of cards, Suga covering Jimin’s eyes so he can’t look at himself, like he knows what’s going on, and others. We won’t elaborate more on this, because this post is already long as fuck, but if you have any questions, feel free to ask!

EDIT - this is an addition to the theory. Someone asked us about the girls in the highlight reels, so here is what Krümmel thinks:

I have seen a lot of theories, for example that the girls represent the other half of the pairs (so Kookie’s girl represents Yoongi and vice versa), or that they represent parts of themselves.

I personally think the latter one is the most plausible. I think that the girls represent the boys’ wishes, needs and also fears. Mainly their wish for companionship and their fear of being alone with their problems. And that they have to let them go to learn how to love themselves.

Tae’s girl represents his wish of being rescued and having someone by his side who takes care of him and who can see through his tough facade, since he saved the girl from possibly being caught by the shop owner, even though she looked like she didn’t want to be saved. He’s afraid of confronting his past and only starts to heal when he leaves the girl and faces the police on his own.

Joon’s girl would symbolize his need of looking over others and his wish to forget what he did to Tae. I think he feels like he failed Tae and is now trying to redeem himself by looking over the girl. He’s afraid of facing the damage he’s done, but he can only help Tae once he faced his guilt on his own, that’s why he didn’t pursue the girl anymore and left without talking to her.

Kookie’s girl represents his want for someone to stay by his side and help him forget about the trauma of the accident and his past, since Yoongi shut him out and the others weren’t there when he was in the hospital. There are theories that he lost his memories of the boys and I think that’s quite plausible. Maybe he wants to start a new life with the girl to avoid having to remember his past. But he can’t be happy without remembering, so he has to be alone first.

Yoongi’s girl represents his wish of someone sticking by his side, even though he tries to push them away. I think she also stands for his wish to be able to compose again. Yoongi has to overcome the feeling that he is the cause of his friend’s misery and allow himself to be with the people that mean a lot to him for him to be able to play the piano again.

Now, Jimin and Hobi are a little more difficult. Both of them are looking for someone to save them. Jimin thinks Hobi will save him and Hobi wishes for a motherly figure to rescue him. I think that’s the reason Jimin has no girl. Hobi is “his girl” and that’s also why he is envious of Hobi’s girl.

Hobi still wants to believe that his mother cared for him, even though she left him, but he has to let go of that to be able to heal. He has to face his trauma to realize that there are other people that really care for him.

With Jimin it’s similar. Even though we don’t actually know a whole lot about him. We know that he was in the same clinic as Hobi, so we can deduce that he is also mentally ill. But other than that, we only know that he is fixated on Hobi and that he is lying to himself about something.

My theory is that he cares a lot about Hobi and is envious/resentful of Hobi’s girl (which represents Hobi’s wish to be cared for) because Hobi doesn’t see how much Jimin cares for him already. There are also indicators that Jimin is in love with Hobi and lies about his feelings because of society and negative stigmas, but I’m not sure how much we can read into those signs.

But anyway, Jimin has to stop lying to himself before he can be with Hobi and the others.

And now onto Jin. I feel like Jin’s girl represents his wish for a peaceful and happy life. If our theory is correct and he has watched his friends suffer for a long time, this idea would become even more plausible. He thinks he can just become better and have a good life but he sees that that can’t just happen when the girl gets run over. His dream of just fixing everything by just becoming a better person, quite literally, gets run over.

He has to learn that he can’t change fate or people and that the best way to a happy ending is caring for his friends. And that he can’t blame himself for what happens to the boys.

So yeah, that’s what I think of the girls.

This got a lot longer than I thought it would, I hope you don’t mind that. Also, keep in mind that this theory also has weak spots.  For example the scene where both Jimin and Hobi’s girl have an accident. That wouldn’t really make sense if the girls are just a representation of the boys’ feeling or wishes.

I’d like to hear what you guys think about all this, so feel free to message us!

Final Words

I hope you enjoyed our little theory! We might elaborate on some points in the future, but I hope this is enough for now. Like I said, feel free to ask us if you have any ideas!

-The Admins

[mysticcamiluss]

Another Ending - Chapter I

Summary:  What would have happened if you became the secretary of Ray (following Another Story's Prologue bad ending)? Would he search for another girl to fill your place to accomplish his original plan? Everlasting paradise requires some sacrifices... For you to love him and never leave him he'd have to recruit someone you cherish so you won't feel lonely with only him by your side forever; but if this plan fails again, you might hate him...

~ ~ ~

ISABELLA

Hello! Oh, well… Maybe I should introduce myself first: my name is Isabella Caggiano and I was a 20 years old student which aimed to be a fashion designer when my life turned a sudden flip, but let’s start from the very beginning: both me and my twin brother Isaiah were born in a religious middle class family. We have an older sister by 2 years, Madison, and our parents, Maria and Mariano Caggiano (yes, they were meant to be), were psychologists that worked in a small study downtown where they interviewed selected people for bigger emprises that want them to start working in there.

Everything related to my childhood sounds nice till now, right? Well, everything WAS right until a car accident that happened to occur while we all returned home after a Christmas party at our Uncle’s household (which lived in a town nearby) took away our parents lives when when were only 10 and 12 years old respectively. After that, we started living along Uncle Robert and his new wife, Dorothy, until they kick us out when Madison turned 18 since “she was capable of taking care of herself and her siblings by that age” according to them.

Putting aside the past that impacted us negatively, we were always really united; fact that made the separation even more difficult when I decided to move alone to the Capital in order to complete my grade, leaving behind my beloved siblings under the promise of returning in a couple of years.

That brings us to the very beginning: the “sudden flip”. I was sparing some time after class at a local café I used to visit almost every day while searching for some app to download when a particular one caught my attention: Mystic Messenger. The Play Store showed no description and there weren’t any comments or ratings yet, the icon of the app was all black with a golden appearance mail envelope in it.

Download initiated. 1%... 20%... 80%... Installing…

Then, the screen of my phone turned into black with green numbers and weird phrases… Coding? I did remember seeing things like that from when Madison was practicing back at home, her being an informatics student.

Unknown has entered the chatroom. You’ve got a new unread message.

“Hi! Finally, someone to talk to, thank god…” In that moment, when I first got contacted by ‘Unknown’ I even thought that maybe I downloaded some kind of malware but my antivirus would have noticed me about that so I quickly erased that option from my mind.

“Hello.”

“Hi. Nice to meet you ^^

Isabella…

I’ve been waiting for you.

Hope I didn’t surprise you.

Don’t be nervous, I’m just an ‘ordinary’ person~”

“Why r u emphasizing the word ordinary…? It’s making me even more nervous.”

“Have you ever heard of modesty? lol

In fact, I’m really excited. You’re the very first person to come!

I was so worried that no one will come in as I was making this app.”

“What’s this app for?”

“Oh, I was about to explain it to you. But, can I ask you a favor? There is something I really want you to help me with.”

“What is it?”

“Well… This app isn’t just a messenger app, it’s a messenger game app and I wanted to ask you if you could test it out for me.

You’d be able to chat with me but also with good-looking/handsome AIs.

There are also amusing hidden stories…

You just have to tell me your honest opinion ^^”

“OK! I’ll try it.”

“t h a n k  y o u. I’ll call later…”

Just a half hour later or so I received a call from a private number and the mysterious person in the other side of the line introduced himself as the guy in the chatroom from before. I could only wonder: how the hell did he manage to obtain my number?!

“It’s automatically collected when you log into the chatroom. I called to explain to you about the app because I also thought that talking to you directly would be more credible.” He kept on explaining about this game where the plot is set to open a fundraising party along five characters that are part of an association called R.F.A. I thought that it sounded… kinda fun actually, maybe it could have been a good distraction anytime I felt stressed or tired from college so I happily agreed.

At that time, things started to get awkward: this person that called himself ‘Unknown’ told me  that he’d need me to get over where he was in order for me to play the game by the excuse that it was protected with special data leak prevention security system and even if I downloaded the file, it’s uninstallable; so he needed to directly install it in my smartphone. Did I seemed that dumb? Heading over to a strangers hidden place? It’s not even real and I can’t bother to go there, anyway.

“For real? Then how about this? If you come here and test the game real hard, someone might be interested in you by seeing that. For example… me.”

“I don’t need it. No thanks.” I tried to be polite but this situation creeped me enough already.

“You don’t need me? Sad. I’m so sad… I really believed you were going to make my dream come true… Believed you were the one I would go to paradise with.” The guy was crying? He was acting so devastated I really wanted to help him… contacting a psychiatrist. And he started mumbling things about a so called ‘Paradise’ where he was trying to take me to, apparently.

“I don’t plan to let you go just yet.”

After that I took a deep breath, thinking it would be the last time I hear about him.

That wasn’t the end.

He kept on calling me the following days and I ignored all of those calls until I got tired after a week passed and decided to answer in order to tell him to stop harassing me. Maybe I should have called the cops, but maybe I actually was that dumb enough…

In this phone call he begged forgiveness for not calling that much, I’m not kidding.

“I’ve been thinking of you the whole day, even when I was busy. Miss you, I want to see you.” I thought this was slightly going to the wrong direction but since that moment I couldn’t stop answering anytime his number displayed in my phone screen. Why? I wonder the same thing, maybe I pitied him or maybe… I am as mad as he is.

“Were you waiting for me? I have a secret for you: I actually went to see you yesterday after hanging up. I couldn’t help myself. You’re really talented, actually… Your sketches… They’re awesome… Haha, I like the look you’re making right now. How cute. Ah… damn. Actually, I’m still watching you right now.  I feel like I’m with you as I’m listen to your breath through the phone. You… want to feel me closer like I do, right?” His voice was low, almost in a seductive way… And was he… moaning? I must definitely have been crazy to have a little crush on you, stalker boy, but I don’t regret it at all. Even now, I don’t.

Two days passed and, as always, I decided to wait for his call at the café. He said he liked to keep an eye on me from some meters apart so I thought that maybe, if I pay enough attention, I could finally discover who ‘Unknown’ was.

That would have happened in a fantasy world.

Being as tired as I was after class and because of an important exam I had today, I couldn’t afford to close an eye the whole night, I fell asleep while waiting.

“I’m so glad you’ve wait for me, princess. Poor thing, why don’t we go together? Live happily in paradise… Come with me. You and I, let’s start over. Just the two of us. And play a somewhat… interesting game too. Heh, I don’t think I can let you go after meeting you in person so I’m going to use you as my assistant, he has one too, right? Anyway, I’m still taking you even if you say no… Come, now…”

[caveartfair]

From Avedon to Arbus, Artists Dissect the Complex Legacy of James Baldwin

James Baldwin, Harlem, New York, 1963. Steve Schapiro Monroe Gallery of Photography

Beauford Delaney, Dark Rapture (James Baldwin), 1941. Courtesy of Michael Rosenfeld Gallery LLC, New York, NY and David Zwirner.

History can be too kind to our cultural superstars. We mythologize artists, declaring their genius and forgetting their foibles. In recent years, American midcentury writer James Baldwin, perhaps best known for his 1963 book The Fire Next Time, has achieved such iconic status. His legacy was further cemented by the 2017 documentary I Am Not Your Negro, and he’s become an easy touchstone for anyone writing about African-American literature.

The New Yorker writer and veritable Renaissance man Hilton Als is trying to save Baldwin from such a fate. “I wanted to rescue him from being a prophet, from being bloodless,” he recently told Artsy. “A lot of people deify him and he becomes a figure you can’t argue with. I wanted him to be in dialogue with artists.” To that end, Als has organized a group show at David Zwirner entitled “God Made My Face: A Collective Portrait of James Baldwin,” on view through February 16th. Artworks spanning the early 20th century through 2018, by talents ranging from Alice Neel and Glenn Ligon to Njideka Akunyili Crosby and James Welling, offer a more complex understanding of Baldwin’s multifaceted biography.

Baldwin, who died in 1987, also wrote such classics as Go Tell it on the Mountain (1953), Notes of a Native Son (1955), and If Beale Street Could Talk (recently made into a film by Moonlight director Barry Jenkins). He produced one of American literature’s most unadorned depictions of the artist’s life in the 1957 short story “Sonny’s Blues.”

Njideka Akunyili Crosby, Nyado: The Thing Around Her Neck, 2011. © Njideka Akunyili Crosby. Courtesy of the artists, Victoria Miro, London/Venice, and David Zwirner.

Marlene Dumas, James Baldwin, 2014, from the series “Great Men,” 2014–present. © Marlene Dumas. Courtesy of David Zwirner.

Als’s exhibition aims to demystify Baldwin himself. In the show, the curator highlights what he believes are two overlooked aspects of Baldwin’s life and oeuvre: his queerness and his desire to become a filmmaker. Many of the included artworks address these themes, more or less obliquely. Als conceives of the project as an “essay” on Baldwin, with every included artist contributing a “sentence or paragraph.” He’s assembled a disparate group of works that together offer a loose narrative, with plenty of room for viewers to insert their own interpretations. It’s an illuminating show, and a curatorial feat.

In one gallery, viewers encounter 14 brushy mixed-media portraits of queer men from South African artist Marlene Dumas’s ongoing “Great Men” series, begun in 2014. Dumas initiated the works in response to Russia’s anti-homosexuality legislation (in 2013, the country criminalized the promotion of gay rights, and bigoted violence ensued). At Zwirner, Dumas’s portraits of Baldwin and Als appear alongside those of Jean Genet, Tennessee Williams, Richard Wright, and other great 20th- and 21st-century thinkers (including Marlon Brando, who Quincy Jones recently claimed was Baldwin’s lover). Under each head, the artist pens capsule descriptions of these impressive personalities. Their sexuality, while a uniting feature, becomes far less interesting than their wide-ranging achievements.

As for his cinematic interests, Baldwin was a particular fan of Ingmar Bergman. In 1960, he even penned an essay for Esquire on the iconic Swedish director of classics like The Seventh Seal and Persona. Interestingly, Baldwin himself addressed the artistic cult of personality in the piece: “He is neither as great nor as limited as the current hue and cry suggests,” he wrote. “But he is one of the very few genuine artists now working in films.” If Baldwin was never able to realize his own Hollywood dreams, Als believes that Kara Walker’s 8 Possible Beginnings or: The Creation of African-America, A Moving Picture (2005), on view at Zwirner, resembles the kind of movie that Baldwin would have made. In the black-and-white film, shadowy figures enact a violent, highly sexualized rendition of the slave narrative. Walker and her daughter speak in the background, lending a sense of autobiography and vulnerability to the work.

Ja’Tovia Gary, An Ecstatic Experience (still), 2015. Courtesy of David Zwirner.

Ja’Tovia Gary, An Ecstatic Experience (still) , 2015. Courtesy of David Zwirner.

Ja’Tovia Gary, An Ecstatic Experience (still) , 2015. Courtesy of David Zwirner.

Ja’Tovia Gary, An Ecstatic Experience (still) , 2015. Courtesy of David Zwirner.

Als also includes the film An Ecstatic Experience (2015) by Ja’Tovia Gary, which juxtaposes footage of protest (Black Lives Matter actions), testimony (Ruby Dee narrating a plantation tale), and prayer (church services). Gary offers a simultaneously violent and celebratory portrait of her experience as an African-American woman and artist living in the United States today. Gary recently wrote Artsy about Baldwin’s influence on her. “‘Sonny’s Blues’ was my first real taste,” she said. “Baldwin’s rhythmic language and the very palpable sound vibrating from his text shook me to my core.” In particular, she admirex “the courage and clarifying vision” he used in mining his personal life for inspiration.

For the most part, Als relies on viewers to make their own connections between Baldwin and the artworks. A photograph by Diane Arbus (A Young Negro Boy, Washington Square Park, N.Y.C. 1965, 1965) hangs next to one by Anthony Barboza (Michael Jackson at 21, 1980), for example, suggesting alternative presentations of black masculinity. “What is a real face?” Als asked at the exhibition preview last week. He noted that Arbus had captured a young man’s “self-invention in process—his pencilled-in eyebrows, his parted and patted-down hair.” Between the two, the curator asked, “who is more real or more fake?”—Jackson, with his afro, or “Arbus’s figure with his shifting between maleness and femaleness?” He suggested that the answer lay in between. Viewers are left to draw conclusions about Baldwin’s own self-presentation, and the way he wrote about women and men in his own work.

Richard Avedon, James Baldwin, writer, Harlem, New York, 1945. © The Richard Avedon Foundation. Courtesy of David Zwirner.

A few artworks, however, do tie more directly to Baldwin’s life. The writer became friends with Richard Avedon during high school in the Bronx. Years later, in 1964, the pair collaborated on a photo book entitled Nothing Personal. Als included black-and-white photographs of Baldwin, taken by his friend. Three works by Beauford Delaney, who Baldwin proclaimed was his “spiritual father,” are also on view. One painting, Dark Rapture (James Baldwin) (1941), depicts the writer’s dark nude body against an exuberantly hued landscape. Baldwin would be unrecognizable if not for the title; sitting on a ledge with one leg crossed over the other, he looks like a mythical figure, fully embodied.

Of course, a single exhibition isn’t enough to understand any artist, let alone such a towering figure as James Baldwin. There’s no substitute for reading Baldwin’s work. If the man himself wasn’t a prophet, his work manages to be both magical and deeply human. As Gary wrote to Artsy, “I too know what it’s like to grow up under the heavy cloak of the holy spirit, to have to wrestle with saints in order to come to terms with the self. How the very personal and specific can at once be all encompassing and expansive is Baldwin’s foremost lesson to me.”

In “Sonny’s Blues,” Baldwin suggests that to truly understand an artist, you must fully engage with that person’s oeuvre. At the end of the story, the narrator finally goes to a club to listen to his brother play. “What is evoked in [the musician], then, is of another order, more terrible because it has no words, and triumphant, too, for that same reason. And his triumph, when he triumphs, is ours,” he tells us. “He could help us to be free if we would listen.”

from Artsy News