#I can’t wait to be rejected in the work life and fandom space

[angstigone]

so silly rant but I don’t think that I’ll write/publish anymore stuff in the immediate future. I have so many ideas brewing in my mind and that I want to try but writing them with the mental health I have right now feels like pushing a shovel in hard cement.

aside that idk, the onslaught of silence I get whenever I publish a fic I genuinely love and enjoyed writing is just defeating, especially when I see only hearts or kudos for it.

and like I do work, I understand how difficult it is to be active in fandom spaces and such and how difficult tumblr makes it for you to be active but idk, I just don’t want to write anymore for fandoms because it’s such an ungrateful job. ugh

[fairy-writes]

last one! can i order a large latte for Louis from MTP? thank youuu!!!

QUESTIONS AND ANSWERS

Reblogs and Comments are greatly appreciated!!

__________________________________________________________________________

Prompt: Fluffy imagine with Louis from MTP

Word Count: 0.5k

Fandom(s): Moriarty the Patriot

Pairing(s): Louis James Moriarty x Reader

Genre(s)/Tag(s): Gender Neutral!Reader, Fluff, Reader is implied to be shorter than Louis

Notes: This is like… Post-Timeskip… So manga spoilers, I guess? I’ll try to keep them to a minimum. (I also haven’t finished the manga; I was reading it as chapters were coming out, but I forgot to keep up with it)

__________________________________________________________________________

“I have a question.” You say suddenly as you break apart a head of lettuce. Louis looks up from where he’s cooking over the stove, eyebrow raised. You are both preparing dinner for the rest of your friends to celebrate William’s return.

“Yes?” He replied, and you look up at the ceiling, suddenly feeling very foolish. You shouldn’t be second-guessing Louis… He has always been so sure of himself since William disappeared. And even before his elder brother disappeared, he was confident in his decisions. 

“Do you actually like me?” You say, more under your breath than anything, but Louis hears it. 

The ladle stirring the soup stops, and Louis turns to face you, crossing the space between you in a few long strides. He works the knife from your grasp and sets it beside the chopped lettuce, cradling your fingers in his palms. 

Your eyes are drawn to his scar, faded and pinkish. Ever since the Final Plan was put into action and William disappeared, Louis had pushed his hair out of his face and ditched his glasses, exposing the self-inflicted scar for the world to see. 

Louis grabs your attention by pressing a kiss to your knuckles and holding them to his chest. He looks serious. 

“My love, I mean this in the best of ways.” He starts, and you feel your heart skip a beat. Was he going to reject you? “But we’ve been together for three years. We are getting married next year. I plan to spend the rest of my life with you. What the hell do you think?”

At that, you can’t help but laugh. Tears well up and overflow.

“Sorry.” You say, voice cracking and he pulls you into a hug.

“I’m sorry, love. I’ve been neglecting you. With Brother’s return, I haven’t been paying attention to you, and I can tell you’re hurting.” He says, and you huff out another dry laugh.

“What kind of partner am I if I can’t handle you planning a simple dinner?” You reply and feel him press a kiss to your temple. 

It isn’t long before you both return to your respective duties, working like a well-oiled machine to finish dinner preparations in record time. You leave Louis to set the table while you gather everyone who is waiting in the parlor. Just before you enter the room to let everyone know that dinner is ready, you slip on your engagement ring. 

It’s a simple gold band engraved with Louis’s initials. His has your initials engraved on the inside as well. Because it’s a reminder that you’ll always have a part of him and his love with you. And vice versa. 

You open the parlor door with a smile that stretches wider at Moran’s loud complaint of, “It’s about time!” 

“If you’ll follow me to the dining room, we can begin dinner.” You say, twisting the ring around and around your finger. 

You were silly to have doubted your fiancé. You knew he loved you fiercely. And you loved him just as intensely in return. 

[neverdoingmuch]

i have a lot of feelings about the way people handle the wangxian dynamic and confession in aus. fandom tends to interpret the wangxian relationship as lwj waiting for wwx to say something, and then (usually) shaming wwx for not saying something. the blow is sometimes softened by lwj saying something about how wwx seems so confident/determined/brave and wwx saying something about how he isn’t, not always, or whatever,, but at the end of the day the burden of being the one to initiate, to confess first, to pursue, is nearly always put on wwx. if you look at the guanyin temple confession with no other context this seems like a fair enough assumption but the fact of the matter is that unless you’re following canon very closely their dynamic doesn’t work, and let’s not even get into the whole ‘lwj silently loving and wwx obliviously pining until he decides fuck it’ trope.

pre-death lwj certainly wouldn’t say anything because he’s not in the right spot to be pursuing a relationship with wwx, be it because of his own personal development not having occurred yet or wwx and lwj’s fundamental inability to understand each other, but post-resurrection lwj is held back by some inherently canon events. unless your fic manages to cover the fact that lwj confessed his love to wwx only for wwx to reject him, followed by the complicated issue of wwx’s ability to consent post-death when he was relying on lwj’s protection and felt as if he owed lwj, that dynamic isn’t going to work!! lwj is not some shrinking violet who can’t pursue his own desires, he’s a complicated person who was held back by his inability/unwillingness to pursue the relationship and then by a dynamic in which he didn’t feel comfortable pursuing wwx. 

and wwx isn’t some oblivious idiot who can’t piece together his own feelings. as a teenager he may have been a little oblivious, yes, but the thing that always held wwx back wasn’t a lack of understanding of himself or his own desires, rather the lack of space to be able to explore his feelings. from the very start of the sunshot campaign to the very end of his first life wwx had different priorities. (and that’s not even considering the fact that not only did lwj act as if he hated wwx but everyone around wwx reinforced this idea.) after he comes back from the dead wwx isn’t awarded peace, what with how he has to solve nmj’s death, but he is given space, and we see how he manages to work through his feelings. it’s not clean or easy, and wwx does take a while to do so, but he isn’t oblivious to them: he knows they’re there and he tries to figure them out and he does come to understand them.

the wangxian dynamic is one of complicated and difficult relationships full of missed chances and blocked paths, and personal growth and getting and taking chances that didn’t exist before. removing the characters from their unique situations and trying to follow that same dynamic isn’t going to work. shrinking violet lwj and alarmingly self-ignorant wwx isn’t who the characters are, and tbh, i don’t like those characters at all.

[collecting-stories]

3 am - JJ Maybank

Request: hey! if you’re taking requests could you write something where the reader and jj are dating and jj starts to distance himself from them and the reader is freaked bc they think he’s gonna break up with them but he actually just is scared to tell them he loves them 🥺👉👈 

A/N: Sorry it’s taken me so long to get this out!!

Outer Banks Masterlist

✰ ✰ ✰ ✰

You stared at your phone, messages open to the most recent string of texts you had sent to JJ. You were trying so hard not to be ‘one of those’ people but it had been almost three days since you had heard from him and the sudden drop off the face of the earth had you thinking the worst. Reaching out to anyone else hadn’t helped, Kiara and Pope hadn’t seemed to notice anything off about their best friend and you read the text between the lines. Ghosting was just JJ’s thing, relationships with him didn’t last long and this one had lasted the longest that they’d seen.  

Part of you thought that maybe you should just take this as an out, a painless one because you didn’t have to hear him tell you he didn’t like you anymore or that ‘this wasn’t working’. So maybe you should’ve just taken the out but you couldn’t. You liked JJ and you wanted some kind of explanation, even if it was just him breaking up with you.  

‘Can we please talk? This ghosting shit is really freaking me out’

The fifth in a small string of texts, carefully thought out in the beginning, trying not to badger him too much, until now...letting yourself sound desperate simply because you were. You weren’t expecting much of anything in return but, at three in the morning while you were laying in your room rewatching old episodes of Veronica Mars, your phone buzzed with a text from JJ.

‘sure. Meet me at hawks nest’

Two weeks of nothing but silence and finally he had responded. If it was anyone else in the world you would have had the good sense to ask them when, exactly, they wanted you to meet them, but you knew JJ well enough to know that he meant right then. Because he was probably laying around at John B’s wide awake and on the verge of sobriety.  

You dressed and drove to the Hawk’s Nest, parking near the sign and walking to the actual structure, using your phone as a flashlight in the dark. The ground was damp from the week of rain, coating your feet and sandals in blades of grass. JJ’s dirt bike was at the bottom of the wooden stairs when you got to them.  

“JJ?” You called, careful of the steps in the dark. Hawk’s Nest never really felt safe to you but you’d agreed to meet him here simply because of your desperation and rickety stairs wouldn’t deter you now.  

He was on the first platform when you got to it, sitting on the edge with his legs dangling over, his own phone flipped on its front, flashlight illuminating the dark. You turned your off and stuck it in your back pocket, walking over to him slowly. “Hey, uh, thanks for...meeting me.” You weren’t sure how to say what you wanted to, if you should dive right in with the heavy questions or act like you hadn’t been losing it over his absence in your life for the last two weeks.  

JJ had thought about ignoring the text, the same thing he’d been doing since he started avoiding you, but something about seeing your name pop up on his phone as he laid there on the pull-out at John B’s had him feeling desperate to see you. Fazing you out hadn’t been a gradual thing. Realizing that he had feelings for you, real, serious feelings, had been gradual. At first he’d ignored it and then when he couldn’t do that he tried to downplay it to himself but when other people started to notice he decided that all he could do was cut you off. He figured there would be nothing after that. A clean break, maybe a little shitty on his end but it would be easier if you thought he was just some asshole that was playing with your emotions and you didn’t know just how deep he was in this.  

But then you started texting him when he started ignoring you, asking if he was okay, asking his friends about him. You weren’t going to let him off that easy and he knew, sooner or later, he was going to have to face up to his feelings. He just wasn’t ready to hear you tell him that you didn’t feel that way because he was positive that would be your response. JJ was the kind of guy who was great for a few weeks in the summer but not the sort of serious boyfriend material that anyone would actually want.  

And he should’ve just ignored you but he couldn’t bring himself to. So he agreed to meet and he showed up at the Hawk’s Nest at three in the morning, sucking down the vapors from his juul and trying not to lose it completely before you even opened your mouth.  

But that was the thing, you were just standing there in the dim light from his cellphone, not saying anything.  

“So...what did you want?”  

“You weren’t answering me...I didn’t wanna bother you but,” you shrugged, unsure exactly how you wanted to word your sentence. What were you even trying to say to him? “I mean, I thought things were going really well and then you just kinda...ghosted me.”  

“Yeah.” JJ nodded. Maybe he could just pretend that he was in some weed induced daze, he practically almost was, and write off him showing up as a totally out of character moment. He could just respond to everything noncommittally and hope that you got annoyed enough to just leave.  

“Well I just..I don’t get it, I guess. I mean, what happened?” You asked, trying to get something more out of him.  

He shrugged, “don’t know.”

Your shoulders sagged and you clenched your fists, trying not to get too upset, or at least not more upset than you already were. You wanted answers and yelling wouldn’t get you anywhere, though JJ’s current approach to the situation had you wanting to shake him and make him understand how upset you were.

“Seriously Jay? Why did you even agree to meet me if you were just going to act like this?”  

“I don’t get why you wanted to meet up anyway.” He replied, turning more toward you. He pushed his phone away with his hand and for a moment he was shrouded in shadows.  

“Because you fucking ghosted me with no explanation whatsoever. I thought things were going really well but I guess I was wrong? I don’t get it, I’m sorry I don’t understand like...I really fucking love you and you just, dropped me like it was nothing.”  

JJ said nothing for a moment, finally pocketing the juul he’d been flipping around in his hands since you had arrived. He bit at the inside of his bottom lip, twisting the ring on his thumb as he tried to think of something dismissive to say. In all honesty, his resolve was fading, more so now that you had told him that you loved him. It was the insecurity over that very thing that had made him ghost you in the first place.  

“Whatever, I don’t even know why I bothered.” You said, turning on your heel and heading for the stairs. The silence hadn’t been taken the way JJ had meant it, as a stunned realization that you were in this as deep as he was. Instead you read his silence as rejection, leaving before he could see you cry.  

“No, wait!” JJ scrambled to his feet, grabbing his phone as he stood up, casting flashes of light all over the place as he ran down the stairs after you. “Wait, wait.” He reached you at the bottom step, stopping you at the ground level when he darted out in front of you.

“What JJ?” You hissed.

“Wait...I...” he took a deep breath, “I didn’t think you felt that way about me. I thought, I figured I was the only one feeling that way so I cut you out.”  

“Why didn’t you just talk to me?”  

“I didn’t want you to break up with me.” He replied, “I thought if you knew how I felt and you didn’t feel the same way then it’d be over.”  

“But I do feel the same way and you would’ve known if you’d talked to me instead of cutting me out and treating me like crap.” You said, “I really do love you JJ, but I can’t do this again-”

“You won’t. I won’t.” He promised. “I fucked up, I’m sorrry. Let me make it up to you, please.”

“Okay...but not at 3am...how about we get some sleep?” You offered, looking back to your car in the dark. You would figure things out in the morning, for now it was enough just to know that you and JJ weren’t over. Far from it. 

-

Taglist: @stevie-buck @bijleegiregi  @vitaminekabc @minigranger @teamnick @just-smile-darling @obxsummer @damonsalvawhore27 @isqbella @tomzfrog @fangirlvoice @phantompogues @98starkeys @ilovejjmaybank @lemur46 @khiaraaa-in-spacee @babygal-babygal @niya-savage @divvrx @princess-of-the-fandoms @thecaptainsgingersnap @jenjie @yourprincess-maybe @wowmaybankk @goldeng1rl8 @heavenlymama @vindictive-hearts @alexa-playafricabytoto @dontjinx-it @randomficsandshit @niamhobrien @strangerthanfanfiction713 @tovvaa @freckled-and-daydreaming @harleylynn @bibliophilewednesday @dpaccione @bolaurel @poguestyleskye @beautyandthebleh @under-a-canyon-moon @outerbankspreferences

[actress4him]

Bonus Whumptober Content

I had no plans originally of continuing the story from Whumptober Day 28. As far as I was concerned, it ended badly and that was that.

But you can all thank @outtacommission , because I was bribed into continuing it!

If you need a refresher on the original chapter, click the link above or read it on AO3.

This is the start of the new content, which ended up being super long, so I broke it up into three short chapters. I’m really excited and nervous to share this. Writing sequels for oneshots that weren’t originally supposed to be continued is...tough. This is the second time I’ve done it, and I always feel like the continuation isn’t as good as the original. But I’m pretty happy with how this turned out, so I hope that you guys enjoy it, too!

Fandom: Voltron Legendary Defender

Warnings: (big spoilers!) needles, implied CPR, broken bones, blood, brain damage, paralysis, amputation, panic attacks

.

“Quiznak. Oh, holy quiznak, Keith?”

.

“He’s not breathing. I’ve got no pulse.”

.

“Hold him steady, I’m cutting the back of this chair off so we can get to the shrapnel.”

.

“Come on, Keith. Breathe. Breathe!”

.

“Look, I found this in Red’s first aid kit. I’m a universal donor.”

“Get it hooked up, he needs everything we can give him.”

.

“Please, Keith. Please.”

.

“Shiro, his ribs…”

“I know. They’ll heal.”

.

“Wait! Look!”

“Oh my g-...okay. Okay. Hurry, let’s get him to the Black Lion. I’ll need you to ride with him so you can keep up the transfusion.”

“Right behind you.”

.

.

Consciousness came in spurts. The first time, he surfaced from the never-ending blackness to nothing but cold and pain, and the feeling that his insides were twisted into a big knot and trying their best to exit his body. As he retched, body automatically jerking to try to sit up or roll over and sending even more pain shooting through him, frantic voices surrounded him.

“...reaction...blood…!”

“But...O neg...shouldn’t…”

Somebody scooped him up like a baby and ran, jarring his screaming abdomen with every step, before depositing him onto a semi-soft surface.

“...Galra…”

“...sample...synthesize more…”

The words meant nothing to him. All he knew was pain and nausea, and a blur of lights and movement above him.

Just before he passed out again, there was a sharp prick in his forearm that momentarily drew his attention away from the rest of the pain. He couldn’t find the energy to protest it.

.

.

The second time, voices were the first to filter in, hushed tones that sounded as if they were speaking a foreign language. His eyes fluttered open, but the bright lights overhead made him wince and squeeze them back shut. 

“You’re okay,” someone soothed, the only words he could actually pick out from among the rest. “You’ll be just fine. Go back to sleep, now.”

There was a prick on the back of his hand, and he whimpered involuntarily. But a moment later the nothingness was taking back over, and he gladly slipped underneath.

.

.

The next time he woke, he had no recollection of the first two times, or of anything that happened before, but for some reason he was surprised to be waking up. Somehow, he didn’t think he was going to do so. But here he was, awake. Only, he had no idea where here was.

“Keith? Bud? You with us?”

He knew that voice. Turning his head toward it, he willed his eyes to open, and after a moment, they obeyed. A blur of yellow and brown met him. 

“Hey, bud! It’s good to see those eyes open. Can you hear me?”

Keith blinked, trying to bring the person into focus. Once their features had solidified enough that he could make out dark brown eyes and a smile, he licked his chapped lips and attempted to speak. 

“Hunk.” For some reason the N dragged on for much longer than he had intended, but it was a word, regardless.

“Yeah! That’s me! Oh my gosh, you have no idea how happy I am that you’re awake and okay.”

How long had he been asleep? It must have been a while for Hunk to be worried. And he was pretty sure he felt okay, though maybe a bit numb overall. Maybe he really had been asleep for a long time. It kinda felt like he was waking up after one of those naps you take while you’re sick and your fever breaks in the middle of it.

He licked his lips again, to no avail. “‘hirsty.”

“Yep, yep, I’m sure you are.” Hunk turned and snatched something up off a nearby table, bringing it toward Keith’s face. “Here ya go. Small sips.”

The water was the most wonderful thing he had ever tasted in his life. He wanted to gulp it all down, ignoring what he had been told, but Hunk pulled it away after only a couple of seconds. 

“Okay, I’m gonna go get Shiro and Fallenta and let them know you’re awake, alright? I’ll be right back.”

Keith struggled to process that sentence. He didn’t think he recognized one of those names, and he still couldn’t figure out why him being awake was such a big deal. Unless...he had gotten hurt in one of their fights. But then why wouldn’t he be waking up from the pod, not in whatever bed this was?

“Wha...happened?” His words continued to come out strangely, despite his best efforts. Maybe he had been sleeping on his face, because it was one of those numb parts of him that didn’t seem to want to move properly.

Hunk froze at the doorway, turning slowly to face him. “Um...what do you remember?”

It was a good question. Wrinkling his brow, he searched his still half-dazed mind, trying and failing to grasp at the snippets of memories that danced by. It didn’t take long for his head to start hurting, and he shut his eyes, giving up for the moment. “Don’t know. A fight?” He had a vague recollection of being in Red recently. “In the Lions?”

“Um, yeah, well, that’s...one thing that happened.” Hunk seemed nervous, fidgeting with his hands. “I’m gonna go, um, get the others, and they can tell you everything, ‘kay?” Without giving Keith a chance to protest, he disappeared through the door.

Keith sighed, and tested out various parts of his body. Other than most of his right side being curiously numb, and an almost unnoticeable ache in a couple more places, everything seemed to be working properly. He had been in Red right before waking up there...right? Maybe she could tell him what was going on.

Only when he closed his eyes and reached for their connection, he came up empty. There was nothing there. No hum, no purr, nothing. His heart leapt into his throat. Red! Red, where are you? What if something had happened to her? What if she was gone? What if he had done something to make her reject him, and he wasn’t even a paladin anymore, what if that’s what Hunk didn’t want to tell him? If he wasn’t a paladin anymore, then he’d...he’d be nothing. Useless. There would be absolutely no reason for him to be in the Castle anymore, in space at all. The other paladins would take him back to Earth and dump him off, and he’d have no one and nothing yet again.

The door opened, and Keith shot upright, ignoring the way it made his head swim and that ache in his ribs twinge. “I can’t feel Red! I can’t...what happened? Where’s Red?”

“Hey! Hey, shh, Keith, it’s okay!” Shiro was across the room in an instant, sitting down on the side of the bed and grasping Keith’s shoulders in both his hands. “I need you to calm down for me, okay? I’ll explain, but I need you to take deep breaths.”

Drawing in one such breath to appease the man, Keith glanced around the room, taking in Hunk’s worried expression and the alien stranger that stood on the other side of his bed. “Somebody please just tell me what's going on.” The words were still slurred, which was getting more frustrating by the second. “Why’m I here?”

He hated the look that Shiro shot up at the alien before catching his eyes again. They were treating him like a fragile child. Even when he was a child, he had gotten more bad news in his few years than most adults did in their whole lives, so it wasn’t like he didn’t always expect more. 

“You were in an accident,” Shiro finally explained, still speaking far too slowly and softly. “You and Red got hit with a zaiforge cannon and crashed into a nearby planet. Do you remember?”

Keith already knew he didn’t, so he wasn’t going to waste time searching his memory when he still wanted answers. “Where’s Red? Is she okay?”

Offering a sympathetic smile, Shiro squeezed his shoulder with his flesh hand. “She’s in rough shape. All her systems are shut down right now. But Pidge and Coran and Hunk have been working on her, and they’re optimistic that everything can be fixed. With time.”

Letting all his breath out with a whoosh, Keith slumped over forward. It was simultaneous good news and bad news. Red hadn’t rejected him, or at least he didn’t think so. But he hated that she was so badly hurt. “I wanna see her.”

Shiro’s smile twitched up a little higher. “I know. But first, we need to check on you. You’ve been unconscious for quite a while. Everything seems to have healed up alright, but there were some things that couldn’t be tested while you were out.”

As if this was their cue, the alien - an objectively pretty, willowy creature with mauve fur, four long, thin arms, and a myriad of long, thin fingers on each hand - stepped forward. Their voice was light and feminine, and had a lilting accent that reminded him of Lance when he fell into his native tongue.

“I am going to give you some simple instructions to follow, okay?”

Keith frowned. “Who ‘re you?”

“Oh, yes, right.” Shiro indicated the newcomer with one hand. “This is Fallenta. She’s a Tellimite. They’re one of the most medically advanced species in the universe. We wanted to make sure you had the best care possible, so Allura brought us to Tellima as soon as we had you in the pod. Fallenta has been...indispensable.”

His explanation only caused Keith more confusion. If he had been in a pod, then why did he need a doctor? And again, why was he in some bed now? 

Seeming to sense his questions, Fallenta smiled and settled down opposite Shiro. “There were some...complications from your injuries. Coran and Shiro made the right call by placing you into a healing pod right away, knowing that it was the only way to save your life, but that meant that your bones that were broken could not be reset before healing. One of my jobs was to correct this once your abdomen wound was no longer life threatening.”

“Yes, you actually had two different stints in the pod,” Shiro nodded. His brow furrowed. “Well, three, if you count the time that your body rejected the blood Pidge had given you and started trying to shut down. Thankfully, Coran had those samples he took from all of us at the beginning, and was able to synthesize some more of yours.”

Keith couldn’t stand the troubled expression on Shiro’s face, especially since he had been the one to put it there. Lifting his left arm, he gently squeezed his brother’s elbow. “I’m okay now.”

Shiro smiled, but there was a sheen to his eyes. “You have no idea how relieved I am about that.”

“Your cognition seems to be just fine,” Fallenta said, “and losing memory of the traumatic event is not uncommon. There are a few other things I need to check, though.”

She spent the next few minutes shining a flashlight into his eyes, asking him some questions about things that happened prior to the accident, getting him to remember a short list of objects, and observing his reactions to various movements and sounds. All of it led Keith to believe that it was his brain being tested, and it made him nervous. No one would tell him anything else, though, simply repeating that they would explain everything shortly.

It seemed to be going well, though, and everyone was smiling and calm, so he tried not to let it get to him. Until Fallenta moved on to testing sensations. She started on his left arm, lightly touching it with her finger, then poking her claw into his skin, then digging in her knuckle. Everything felt like it should.

“Alright, the right arm, now.” She smiled at him and held his gaze, but after a moment of nothing further happening, her smile faded into a neutral expression. Another moment, and he was wondering why she hadn’t done the test yet. 

“Do you feel any of this, Keith?”

“What?” He looked down, and her finger was on his forearm. As he watched, she moved it up and down his arm, tapping lightly. He swallowed hard. “It's...it's been really numb e’er since I woke up. My face an’ leg, too.” Out of the corner of his eye he saw Shiro stiffen. “What does that mean?”

Fallenta smiled again, and as nice of a smile as it was, he was beginning to hate it. “Let’s complete the tests, and I will be able to tell you more. Can you feel this?” 

This time he watched as she pricked him with her claw, and to his relief, there was a faint jolt of pain. “A little. It's muted, though.”

“That’s good. And this?” She used her knuckle that time, and again, the pressure was faint.

“Same. What's wrong with my arm?” he demanded, glaring first at her, then Shiro. “Why can’t I talk right?”

“Have patience -”

“No!” Keith yanked his arm away from her with far more effort than should have been required. “I'm out of patience! Tell me what's wrong!”

Shiro put a hand on Fallenta’s shoulder, nodded at her, then reached forward and took Keith’s hand. “When we found you…” He paused, his jaw clenching and eyes flicking away for a split second before he seemed to steel himself to continue. “Your heart had stopped. It’s impossible to say how long you had been like that. I was able to get it started again, but it took a few minutes. So your brain…” Drawing in a deep breath, he let it out in a sigh. “It was without oxygen for several minutes, at the least. Brain damage has been a concern from the very start. When I said you have no idea how relieved I am that you’re okay...it was possible that you wouldn’t ever wake up. Or if you did, that you wouldn’t be able to function at all.” An errant tear slipped out, and he dashed it away with his metal hand. “But you’re here. You’re awake, and you can speak and think and...and it’s gonna be okay. I promise, it’s gonna be okay.”

Brain damage? The words hit him like a blow to the chest. That meant his arm...his face...they weren’t just numb, they were...they were…

He ripped his hand from Shiro’s grip. “How can you say it's gonna be okay? Do you hear me? I soun’ stupid! An’ my arm...how’m I supposed to fight an’ fly if I can barely move my arm?”

“But you still have some movement and sensation,” Fallenta broke in. “That is very good news. It means that, with physical therapy, you can regain even more use. You can even have speech therapy to help you build up your facial muscles.”

“Speech therapy?” He almost laughed at that. “We’re in the middle of a war, we don’ have time for speech therapy!”

Shiro’s hand landed on his leg. “We’ll make it work, Keith.”

“No. No.” He shook his head harshly. “Get off. Get off me, I need...” Flailing his one good hand toward Shiro and Fallenta, he gritted his teeth against the tears that wanted to fall. The weight on either side of the bed moved as the two of them stood. “I need some air. I need...” Red, that’s what he needed. He reached for the corner of the blanket that covered his legs. “I’m gonna -”

“Keith, wait!”

Shiro and Hunk both lunged, but it was too late. He had already flipped the blanket to the side, revealing what lay underneath.

Or rather, what didn’t lay underneath.

He was gonna be sick.

His leg. It was…it was missing from the knee down.

Keith screamed.

The next minutes or hours were a blur of tears and pain in his chest and breaths that wouldn’t come. He vaguely recalled Shiro being in front of him, his lips moving but no sound coming out. He vaguely recalled thrashing and slamming his head into the wall behind him. 

After that, though, the nothingness took back over.

Next

[davidmann95]

How about those JL storyboards?

In case you haven’t heard, Zack Snyder is putting on display the ‘storyboards’ - i.e. a rough plot summary accompanied by some Jim Lee sketches - for what would have been Justice League 2 and 3, or as this puts it 2 and ‘2A’. You can see them here (I imagine better-quality versions will soon be released), and read a transcript here. This is evidently a very early version: this was apparently pitched prior to the release of BvS and Justice League being rewritten in the wake of it, with numerous plot details that now don’t line up with what we know about the Snyder Cut, plus it outright mentions it builds on the originally planned versions of the Batman and Flash movies. But it’s a broad outline of what was gonna go down, and while I initially thought it was Snyder throwing in the towel, the timing - paired with the ambiguity left by the necessity for changes, including that this doesn’t factor whatever that “massive cliffhanger” at the end of the Cut is - says to me he’s hoping this’ll be a force multiplier behind efforts to will sequel/s into existence. He���s probably right.

I’ll be discussing spoilers below, but in short: with this Zack Snyder has finally lived up to Alan Moore, in that like Twilight of the Superheroes I wouldn’t believe this was real as opposed to a shockingly on-point parody if not for direct, irrefutable evidence.

Doing some rapid-fire bullet points for this baby to kick us off:

* Folks who know the subject say a lot of this is a yet further continuation of Snyder doing Arthuriana fanfic with the League reskinned over those major players, and I’ll take their word for it.

* I don’t know whether I love or hate that in Justice League 2 the Justice League are only an extant thing for the first scene, and then it’s Snyder giving everybody their own mini-movies. It’s compressing the entire MCU “loosely interconnected solo stories leading to a single big movie later” strategy into a single movie!

*  Funniest line in the whole thing: "Even Lantern has heard of the Kryptonian, worried that he's under the control of Darkseid. He heard his spirit was unbreakable." Hal what fuckin' Superman movie did YOU watch? Second funniest being “IT WILL GIVE HIM POWER OVER ALL LIVING LIFE”

* 90% of the plot I have nothing to say about, it’s generic stage-setting crap. That to be clear is the ‘shocked it’s Snyder’ element, it feels so crassly commercial in a way I can’t believe is coming from the BvS guy.

* Most of what I have to say is unsurprisingly gonna be about a handful of characters but Cyborg’s happy ending being “he isn’t visibly disabled anymore!” is not great!

* The Goddess of War battle with Superman...never pays off? No clue why it’s there.

* What I’d originally heard was that the Codex in Superman’s blood was the last key to the Anti-Life Equation and that’s why Darkseid was coming to Earth. It’s not like all of this wouldn’t have already been averted by Kal-El’s pod smacking into an asteroid on the way to Earth so it’s not as if this makes it any more Superman’s fault, and it would have at least tied all this back to the beginning of the movies, but I suppose that was either fake or from a later draft.

* I have NO idea how this was reimagined without the ‘love triangle’, it’s the central character thing and the entire climax flows directly out of it!

* Darkseid’s kinda a chump in this, huh

Anonymous said: So: Does Zack Snyder hate Superman?

Look: the hilarity of this when Cuck Kent has been a go-to Snyder cult insult towards ‘inferior’ takes on Superman for years cannot be understated, yet at the same time I can almost wrap my brain around where Snyder’s coming from with that as the end for his take on the character. He talked in that Variety piece on how his interest in Superman is informed by having adopted children himself, and Deborah Snyder is the stepmother to his kids by previous relationships, so I can see where he’d be coming from, and I can even imagine how he’d see this as ‘rhyming’ in the sense of “the series begins with Kal-El being adopted by Earth, it ends with him adopting a child of Earth!” In the same way as MARTHA, I can envision how he would put these pieces together in his head thematically without registering or caring what the end result would actually look like. In this case, Superman raising the kid of the man who beat the shit out of him who Batman had with Clark’s wife, who earlier told Bruce she was staying with Clark because he ‘needed her’, suggesting if inadvertently that this really honest to god was a “she’s only staying with Superman out of pity, she really loved Batman more” thing.

But Clark is nothing in this. He’s sad and existential because of coming back from the dead I guess, then he’s corrupted, then time’s undone and he woo-rah rallies the collective armies of the world (interesting angle for the ‘anti-military/anti-establishment’ Superman he’s talked up as) as his big heroic moment in the finale, and then he stops being sad because he’s adopting a kid. So his big much-ballyhooed, extremely necessary five-movie character arc towards truly becoming Superman was:

Sad weird kid -> sad weird kid learns he’s an alien, is still weird and sad, maybe he shouldn’t save people because things could go really wrong? -> his dad is so convinced it could go wrong he lets himself die -> ????? -> Clark is saving people anyway -> learns his origin, gets an inspiring speech about being a bridge between worlds and a costume -> becomes superman (not Superman, that’s later) to save the world, albeit a very property-damagey version, rejects his heritage he just learned about and space dad’s bridge idea -> folks hate him being superman and that sucks though at least he’s got a girlfriend now -> things go so wrong he considers not being superman but his ghost dad reminds him shit always goes wrong so he should be good anyway, which sorta feels like it contradicts his previous advice -> immediate renewed goodness is out the window as he’s blackmailed into having to try and kill a dude but the dude happens to coincidentally have some things in common so they don’t kill each other after all -> big monster now but superman keeps supermaning at it because he loves his girlfriend and he dies -> he’s brought back, wears black which apparently means now he likes Krypton again? -> he has work friends now but he’s still sad because he was dead -> evil now! -> wait nevermind time travel -> rallies the troops -> his wife’s having a kid so he’s not sad anymore -> Superman! Who gives way to more Batman.

Do I think Zack Snyder is lying when he says he likes Superman? No. I think he sincerely finds much of the basic conceits and imagery engaging. But I don’t think he meaningfully gives shit about Clark as a character, just a vessel for Big Iconic Beats he wants to hit. Whereas while for instance he’s critical of Batman as an idea (at least up to a point), he’s much more passionately, directly enamored with him as a presence and personality. So while Superman may be the character whose ostensible myth cycle or arc or however it’s spun might be propelling a lot of events here, it’s a distant appreciation - of course the other guy takes over and subsumes him into his own narrative. Of course Batman is the savior, the past and the future (though if he’s supposed to be Batman’s kid raised by Superman there’s no excuse for him not to be Nightwing), the tragic martyr to our potential. Admittedly the implication here is also that Batman can apparently only REALLY with his whole heart be willing to sacrifice his life to save an innocent, for that matter apparently his great love, once said innocent is a receptacle for his Bat-brood, but he and Clark are both already irredeemable pieces of shit by the end of BvS so it’s not like this even registers by comparison.

Anonymous said: That “plan” Snyder had was utter dogshit. Picture proof that DC & WB hate Superman. Also I love how you’re like Jor-El: Every single idealistic take you had about Snyder, his fandom, and BvS was wrong. Snyder’s an edgy hack, his fanbase just wants to jerk off to their edgy self-insert Batgod as he screams FUCK while mowing people down with machine guns, and the idea that BvS said Superman was better than Bats was completely wrong. You know what comes next SuperMann: Either you die or I do.

In the final analysis, beyond that mother of god is there sure no conceivable excuse for the treatment of Lois in this? The temptation is to join that anon and say as I originally tweeted that these were “built entirely to disabuse every single redemptive reading of the previous work and any notion of these movies as nuanced, artistic, self-reflective, or meaningful”.

...

...

...yeah, okay, that’s mostly right. Zack Snyder’s vision really was the vision of an edgelord idiot with bad ideas who was never going to build up to anything that would reframe it all as a sensible whole. He’s a sincere edgelord genuinely trying really hard with his bad ideas who put some of them together quite cleverly! But they’re fucking bad and the endgame was never anything more than ramping up into smashing the action figures together as big as he could, the political overtones and moral sketchiness of BvS while trying to say something in that movie reverberated through the grand scheme of his pentalogy in no way beyond giving his boys a big sad pit to rise out of so when they kicked ass later it’d rule harder, and all the gods among men questions and horror and trappings were only that: trappings. Apparently he’s really pleasant and well-meaning in person, but at his core his art as embodied in a couple weeks in his 4-hour R-rated Justice League movie meant to be seen in black-and-white all comes down to that time he yelled at someone on Twitter that he couldn’t appreciate Snyder’s work because it’s for grown-ups. He made half-clever, occasionally exciting shit cape movies for a bunch of corny pseudo-intellectual douchebags, folks latching onto and justifying blockbusters that at least acknowledge how horrifying the world is right now even if the superheroes are basically useless in the face of it if not outright part of the problem until a convenient alien invasion shows up to justify them, and a handful of non-asshole smart people who vibe with it but...well. ‘Suckered’ is a harsh word, and definitely doesn’t apply to all of them re: what they’ve gotten out of it up to this point and would (somehow) get out of this. But it doesn’t apply to none of them, either.

[titularkilljoy]

Black Coffee

Summary: Spencer had changed since prison. And no one seems to be able to help.

Pairing: Spencer Reid x Reader

Warnings: Strong language, mental health struggles, angst

Author’s note: Inspired by this post. Also, this is my first time writing for a fandom. So, don’t be gentle. Be brutally honest. 

Spencer was different these days. On that much, everyone could agree.

Everyone on the team walked on eggshells around him now, myself included. It wasn’t that we didn’t want to be there for our friend who had just gotten out of a three-month stint in prison; it was quite the opposite. All of us were waiting with bated breath for an opportunity to help. None of us wanted him to bottle up all his frustration and end up throwing books at the bureau walls again. As it was, he refused to acknowledge it or talk about it, and as a result, we all talked around it, trying to profile him without making it too obvious; trying to help him without him catching on to the fact that we were trying to help him. All in all, it was a Herculean feat. Every time he detected the slightest ounce of what he deemed to be pity, you could see his hackles raise, and an impenetrable barrier would form around him. That was incredibly unpleasant for everyone involved.

Spencer and I had been close, once. Extremely close. We had confided in each other about everything. I think he had always appreciated the fact that I never treated him like an all-knowing alien or a socially awkward little brother. It probably helped that my feelings for him were far from brotherly. But he didn’t need to know that.

Regardless, our close bond seemed to be a thing of the past. I had been there to welcome him back to the outside world on the day he was released. My heart was fuller than it had ever been, with love and relief and grief, and I had thrown my arms around him without a word. He had been stiff in my embrace for a few seconds before I felt the familiar warmth of his arms clutching me tightly. I had sighed deeply. I had missed his touch.

Since then, however, he had shut himself off. I had tried to give him space, to let him resolve those issues , which he clearly did not want to speak to me about, on his own. When that didn’t seem to work, I decided on a more hands-on approach.

For a week, I had been trying to muster the courage to follow through on that decision. But every time I tried to broach the matter, the emptiness of his gaze and the rigid set of his shoulders would stop the words in my throat. I felt like I was trying to speak to a stranger. Worse than that– I knew how to deal with traumatized victims and witnesses. Spencer was neither of those and both of those at once. Besides that, he was the ghost of my best friend. Every conversation felt like trying to breathe new life into a relationship long gone dead and cold.

Right now, he was alone in the break room. On the surface, he seemed to be going about his routine like a normal person. But to the trained eye, it was horrifying. Because he was pouring himself some coffee. A black coffee. With one sugar. Knowing him like I did, the sight was bleak, and it spurred me into action.

I set my shoulders and walked into the room. He lifted his head and nodded at me in greeting. I sidled over to the counter and set my gaze firmly on the pot of coffee as it if contained all the secrets of the universe. He leaned against the counter, staring at the opposite wall while blowing on his coffee. I cleared my throat. There was a palpable tension in the air. Maybe it was just me. He certainly didn’t seem bothered. I, however, was choking on it.

“Spencer,” I tentatively began, “I was thinking, maybe we should talk?”

I cringed at my own words even as I said them. I’d spent a week working on this and the best I could do was some sitcom staple dialogue?

Spencer’s eyes darted over to me, brow furrowing in curiosity. “About what? Is this about the case?”

“No. No, it’s not about the case.”

That seemed to be the wrong answer. He heaved a frustrated sigh and rubbed a hand over his face.

“(Y/N), we really don’t have time for–-“

Another deflection. Except this time, I was expecting it, and wouldn’t accept it.

“Yes, we have time, Spencer. We’ve apprehended the suspect. We saved a victim. Today we’re doing paperwork”, I pointed out, “and this is definitely more important than paperwork.”

“If this is a personal matter then we shouldn’t be talking about it here anyway,” he said in a clipped tone. He was getting defensive.

“You’re right, Spencer.” That took him by surprise, and I was rewarded with his grudging attention.

“You’re right. This conversation shouldn’t be happening here. Except, you’ve been dodging my calls for a month. You pretend you’re not home when I show up at your apartment. You won’t even say a word to me that isn’t about work.” I let the frustration I felt bleed into my words; he needed to know this wasn’t a profiler’s attempt to poke and prod at his psyche. It was just me, and I wanted my best friend back.

“I’ve been busy,” he hedged, but there was a trace of guilt in his eyes. He had never liked seeing me hurt, after all.

“Don’t lie to me, Spencer,” I practically begged, “You’re shutting me out. I know you’re struggling. It’s so damn obvious that you’re struggling. I just want to help you. I hate seeing you like this.”

“I’m not asking you to! And I don’t need your help,” he spat with a scowl. “I’m not struggling. I can do this job just as well as you or anyone else on the team can, if not better.”

The sting from those words was overshadowed by my incredulity. “Are you serious? Spencer, this isn’t about the fucking job!” I cried in frustration. “This is about you. I care about you. You’re in pain, and I don’t understand why you won’t let me help. You used to tell me everything.”

He let out a dark chuckle, placing the mug back on the counter and standing up straight. For the first time in what felt like forever, he stared right into my eyes. Except I would have given anything not to be on the receiving end of that stare. It was so full of malice and bitterness; it was so unlike my Spencer.

“You’re so fucking transparent,” he began in a low tone, and my eyebrows shot up in surprise. Spencer wasn’t usually one for expletives, especially not at work.

“You claim to be worried about me, but you’re really only worried about yourself. You’re lonely, and you can’t form a real connection with anyone. Now that you don’t have me as your emotional crutch, you’re projecting those issues onto me. Typical.”

My jaw dropped against my will. “Spencer, that’s not fair,” I managed to whisper around the lump in my throat. But he wasn’t done yet. Nostrils flaring, he towered over me menacingly.

“Oh, it’s not fair. What isn’t fair is you trying to jeopardize my already precarious position at the FBI by bringing this kind of petty drama into my life. Not everything is about you.”

“I never said it was!” I practically yelled, shocked into anger.

“Yes, but you clearly think it is. You’re not actually worried about me. You just want things to go back to normal. You want me to be the old Spencer again. Sweet, naïve Spencer who would have gladly let you string him along for his entire life. Admit it.”

“String you along? What the fuck are you talking about? How about the other way around? And it’s fucking rich that you’re accusing me of not being able to form a meaningful connection when you’re the one who’s so scared that we’re going to reject you that you’ve completely shut us out. Your fucking family who went through hell and back to get you out. We don’t care that you’re not the same Spencer. No one expects you to be! But I’m sick of all of us talking around the big fat elephant in the room and I’m scared I’m going to find you drugged up and dead on the floor of your apartment one day!”

We were right in each other’s faces at this point, and I was breathing heavily. Surrounding us was a pregnant silence. Spencer’s face had settled into an unreadable mask that I desperately tried to decipher anyway.

Finally, he spoke. His voice was cold as he delivered the killing blow.

“I told you I didn’t want to talk about it. So, I’m not going to talk about it. That’s my decision. You’re not entitled to my confidence, (Y/N). Not anymore. Just leave me alone.”

Every word was well enunciated, and I knew he meant them. He was done with me. When he stormed out of the room, I collapsed back against the counter, trying to call out his name but my vocal cords refusing to cooperate.

I didn’t know how I felt. When your body suffers a massive injury, it numbs you for a while, to protect you. You often don’t even realize you’ve been hurt. But after the numbness fades, your entire body feels like it’s on fire. I supposed that was as good a way as any to explain what was happening to me at that moment. Something so monumental and world-shattering had just occurred that I was being given a few moments of numbness as a reprieve, before the pain would inevitably consume me.

I remained rooted to my position for uncomfortably long time before I realized several pairs of eyes were focused on me, trying and failing to be subtle at it. Overcome with a sudden wave of nausea, I rushed to the restroom. Splashing some cold water in my face, I stared at myself in the mirror.

Well, I thought, that backfired pretty spectacularly.

I closed my eyes and came to the grim realization that prison had left some indelible scars on Spencer. We had all been turning a blind eye to it–- we’d been hoping against all odds that Spencer’s endlessly resilient innocence would be preserved, even in the face of solitary confinement and selective memory loss. After all, the man had literally died and been resurrected, once. He had fought a drug addiction all on his own. He had been parenting his schizophrenic mother since he was a child. He was strong. If anyone could come out of this intact, we had reasoned, it would be Dr Spencer Reid. Being faced with clear evidence to the contrary was a bitter reminder that life always managed to snuff out light and goodness wherever it was found.

I kept my head down on my way to my desk. I made it halfway before I heard Hotch call my name. Garcia was at Morgan’s desk and she offered me an anxious, pitying smile. I didn’t want to acknowledge it. I turned and met his sympathetic yet firm gaze squarely, summoning a confidence I did not feel as I took the detour into his office. What other choice did I have? Life had to go on.

                                ___________________

The next two weeks were tense, to say the least. Spencer and I could barely stand to be on opposite ends of the briefing room with each other. Hotch, perceptive as always, was gracious enough not to pair us up on either of the two cases we worked in that time. I threw myself into the gory details of case files and victimology, refusing to address the fact that I felt like I had lost a limb. I couldn’t succumb to that. Not quite yet, at least. Spencer, for his part, remained inscrutable, although I noticed Morgan and Emily trying to talk to him on more than one occasion. I appreciated their support, but Spencer had made himself very clear. There was nothing anyone could do.

I was dead on my feet when we finally wrapped up the case in Seattle. Derek Morgan needed to learn the meaning of the word “no”, because he still dragged me to some pub I can barely remember the name of. The memory loss could probably be attributed to the blackout drinking I embarked on that night. I drank, downing whiskey shot after whiskey shot until I lost my inhibitions and started giggling and singing along tunelessly to the music, then I drank some more until I felt comfortable enough to dance, and then I kept drinking until I hit the stage where I started sobbing. I usually knew to cut myself off before then. That night, though, my senses seemed to have left me entirely. To curb the sobbing, I drank some more, and that was about the point where I blacked out.

I woke up the next morning in a hotel room, ruing the day I was born, but there was an unopened bottle of water and some aspirin on the table, next to a note from Emily saying she was downstairs with the others. I gingerly caressed my forehead, groaning, before forcing myself out of bed and into the day.

The dark sunglasses I wore did little to make me feel better, and the teasing from Morgan about my alleged shenanigans the previous night did even less to that end. I boarded the jet with a grateful sigh, relieved that I could just curl up and go to sleep.

Alas, that wasn’t what the universe had planned for me, it seemed, because moments after I had nodded off, a hand on my shoulder gently shook me awake. I opened my mouth, ready to yell at whoever it was, but what came out instead was an embarrassing squeak.

Because standing in front of me, clutching a Starbucks cup, was none other than Spencer Reid.

He looked different. Different, and familiar. There was no tightly wound coil. There was no steel in his eyes. There was only warmth.

I eyed the cup in his hands curiously. Had he taken to tempting diabetes with his coffee once again? Had this mess all just been one long sugar crash?

He looked immensely sheepish as he murmured, apparently mindful of my piercing headache, “Can I sit?”

I nodded dumbly, enraptured by the sight of him sinking into the seat across from me, his knees almost knocking into mine. Was I just having a really good dream? Was I still drunk?

“(Y/N),” he whispered, and it felt like I’d travelled back in time. To back before our fight, before prison, before Mr Scratch, before Cat.

“I owe you an apology. Several, actually. I– you have to know that I didn’t mean any of the things I said. I was just lashing out. Textbook defensive behaviour.” He paused, watching me. I just stared back at him. I could only imagine what he saw on my face that made him continue even more gently, if that was even possible.

“You’re my best friend. You always have been. And you were absolutely right when you accused me of being worried about rejection. I- I’m not the same, anymore. I’ve never been particularly fond of myself, but now, I don’t even recognize myself.” He sounded miserable, and all I wanted to do was hug him. I stayed put, though. He looked like he really needed to finish what he had to say.

“I feel…darker, somehow. And I didn’t want to infect you with that. I didn’t want to hurt you. And instead, I hurt you more than I possibly could have if I’d just let you help me. I’m an idiot. I’m so sorry, (Y/N), I–“

“Spencer,” I finally interjected, and slowly, deliberately, reached out and took one of his hands in both of mine. “Yes, you’re an idiot,” I conceded, trying to hold back the relief that was flooding my entire body, “but I’ll forgive you. If you promise you’re not going to pull that shit again. I’m serious, Spencer. You’re hurting yourself, you’re hurting me, you’re hurting the team. We need you. I need you”, I said vehemently, and that was as close to a confession as I would get. At least, for the foreseeable future.

His face told me he heard the unsaid, and the dark guilt clouded his face once again. He was remembering what he’d said to me. String me along, he’d thrown out. Steady determination chased the guilt, and he opened his mouth, but I cut him off.

“No. Not now. You need help. You know how I feel about you. But we can’t right now. It’s not fair to either of us.”

He looked like he was going to protest, but I tried to convey as much sincerity through my eyes as I could. We’ll have our chance, I tried to tell him. I’m not giving up on you, so don’t give up on me, I implored.

Slowly, he nodded. For the first time in half a year, my heart felt light. I knew there would be plenty of hurdles to navigate, but for now, the promise of his company in doing so was enough.

“Besides,” I said seriously, “we need to talk about this bad habit of ours.”

The bafflement on his face was familiar, and I grinned, biting my lip.

“Having these intense conversations in front of everyone in the FBI absolutely has to stop,” I clarified, staring at each of the other people on the jet pointedly. They were doing a very good job of looking busy. Morgan had a smirk on his face. I caught his eye for a second, and we shared a smile.

My comment made Spencer chuckle. “I’ll, uh- I’ll let you get back to your nap then.”

“Oh, thank God,” I groaned dramatically, pulling the blanket over my head to block out the dim light.  It served another purpose; as I listened to the soft cadence of his retreating footsteps, it obscured the smile which threatened to rip my face in two. Morgan would never let me live that down.

[lotusthekat]

I’ve felt this way before (so insecure)

Fandom: Steven Universe

Rating: T

Relationships: Steven & Lars (please do not ship them)

Characters: Steven Quartz Universe, Lars Barriga

Summary: There’s something wrong with him.

Word count: 2.200

AO3

A/N: basically me venting through Steven and also to show off my very personal headcanon that he might have BPD.

Please be aware of the trigger warnings below. Take care of yourself. <3

TRIGGER WARNINGS - non-graphic depictions of self-harm and blood, trauma, panic attack, anxiety and depression.

--

It was weird when Steven received Lars’ text, suggesting their usual baking session could take place at the former’s house instead. As if Steven hadn’t just trapped Lars and all their friends in an enclosing pink dome.

Well, Lars still hasn’t decided whether he’d go to space or not, but considering everyone else was definitely leaving, then Steven didn’t take it very well. But he wasn’t anywhere mature about it, either. It embarrasses him every night when he can’t sleep.

Even then, Steven couldn’t reject the invitation. If anything, he’s quite relieved that Lars wants to hang out with him despite the scene. But deep inside…

There’s something wrong with him.

Maybe since his new powers developed, as they’ve only gotten stronger and more dangerous with each day. They synchronize with his emotions. And that’s exactly the problem.

Steven’s emotions have been staggering.

He doesn’t want to be abandoned, but he doesn’t want to hold anyone back.

He’s angry at everyone, at himself and no one. He’s so angry, he’s prone to lashing out and cracking walls and windows far too often.

He’s ashamed of his shameful clinging to everyone around him, and as a result, he’s isolated himself. Then Steven becomes sad and tired, too, which is why he dropped Little Homeschool in the first place.

But in the next moment, he’ll be smiling like nothing happened. Because maybe he should be getting his life together. Maybe he should smile and let it go.

In reality, his mind is dangerous. Domes and walls will imprison him, while he tries to protect himself from something inevitable.

(Loneliness? Death? War? Everything? Nothing?)

It’s confusing and terrifying and Steven has no idea how to get through this. However, the half-gem can’t let anyone know, because what if they actually leave him when they realize how unstable he is? What if Pearl, Garnet and Amethyst leave the house forever? What if Connie never comes back to Beach City? What if Dad also moves out? What if Lars really goes to space?

It’s especially harder to hide now, with Lars right next to him, laughing at the stories Steven is telling him. Lars is having such a good time, and Steven is trying, because his friend will leave if the dome disaster happens again.

Steven has shoved his pink fists inside his pockets, only helping when Lars needs. It’s been tough keeping it all in. Keeping the hurt, enraged pink to himself. It aches for something, something he’s not at all sure.

The younger boy doesn’t want to ruin their time. He doesn’t want to push Lars away. He might go to space and never come back. Maybe he won’t even want Steven to visit him.

Be quiet.

Think of love.

Flexibility, love and trust.

It’s okay.

It’s okay.

It’s not.

Shut up.

It’s not!

“… uh, Steven?”

The sixteen-year-old boys looks at his friend as if he were away to space again.

“Oh, hi,” Steven laughs nervously.

“You, um. You wanna take a break? You look a little—”

“T-That’d be great!” Steven blurts out. “I gotta go to the bathroom real quick, don’t disappear while I’m gone!” He laughs forcibly as he runs to the small door and locks himself inside before Lars notices.

He lets out the shakiest breath.

Why is this happening?

Why can’t he be okay?

He…

He needs to do something.

Steven inhales deeply, very deeply, trying to swallow the threatening tears. Not now. Not now.

It’s useless.

He’s useless.

…

He needs to do it.

Steven hates it,

but there’s nothing else he can do.

The boy takes a look at himself before opening the mirror cabinet. He’s crying despite telling himself no, and he’s glowing pink like never before.

This is the only way, then.

Beside the Diamond Aura bottles lie the small, subtle razor blades, now shining bright with his pink reflection.

Steven already shudders just by touching the blades, sharp in his fingers.

His hands are trembling badly, for that matter.

He hates, hates doing this.

But if the pink won’t comply, then he has no choice.

It’ll be quick, though.

He’ll be fine.

…

The moment the blades are close, his thoughts scream.

They cry like lost souls haunting him, the same ones that have stalked him for all these years.

Steven is angry.

Get out!

GET OUT!

…

Then there are crimson flames in his pink arms, burning like lava and poison.

It makes him sick.

He’s gonna puke.

The blades fall off his hands.

Steven will never be used to this.

Even if they’ll be gone with one healing tear…

The red hurts.

Steven’s arms wrap around himself, maybe as a way of comfort. Maybe so he doesn’t throw up and panic.

His own pathetic hug is all he has, soothing the painful but quiet sobs.

However, the world outside comes right back, knocking at his door.

“Steven?”

Gasping, the boy takes the stained razor blades off the floor and put them back in the cabinet.

“Just a second!” He exclaims.

“I- I heard you crying, is everything-?”

“Yep, everything’s fine!”

Lars soon sounds frustrated, “Dude, you’ve been weird all day, why won’t you talk to me?”

Oh no, no, no

“Wait, please!” Steven begs, please don’t be mad, don’t leave me, please—

He quickly kisses both of his arms, the crimson stains gone, and he cleans the remainders from his mouth.

Steven doesn’t waste time to open the door and force a smile onto his face.

“I’m right here!” He yells. “I’m completely fine!”

Lars opens his mouth, only for his eyes to go horribly wide.

“… Lars?”

“St- Steven, there’s blood all over your jacket!”

Indeed, his pink jacket is stained where he’d been hugging.

Something cracks.

(His mask? His lies?)

“It- I-It was an accident! I w-was… I…”

What sort of accident?

What could explain it?

“I…” tears form in the corner of his growing eyes, his skin glowing pink again. “I…”

Lars’ eyes pale. “Steven…”

Despite the seriousness of the situation, the younger boy laughs.

“You must think I’m crazy, right?” Steven asks, his smile fading to nothing. “Maybe I am. Nothing is making sense anymore,” he sniffs and looks away, avoiding the horrified stare. “You should probably leave, Lars. I-I don’t want to hold you back again. I’m sorry.”

The lonely silence meets him. It’s all so quiet, Lars might not even be there anymore. It’s probably for the best.

Regardless, steps come forward and Steven shivers.

Soft yet calloused hands carefully reach his arms, pulling up his sleeves.

“… are your arms okay?” The question is quiet. Too quiet. But not angry.

Steven gulps either way, nodding, “I-I healed them. It’s okay.”

“… okay.”

Thumbs rub where the crimson once was. They soon go for his shaking hands, squeezing both with care.

Lars doesn’t look angry at all.

At least not to the eye.

Steven doesn’t know if that’s a good thing, unsure what his friend is feeling.

Lars takes a deep breath – and Steven shivers again, expecting to get yelled at – only for him to give him a simple command.

“Turn around, will you?”

“Um- okay?” He does as he’s told and wonders what this is about, when…

Lars removes the jacket for him, leaving Steven with his black t-shirt exposed.

“We should probably wash this, right?” Lars suggests, not a hint of annoyance noted. “Where’s your washing machine again?”

“O-Oh, it’s…” Steven gulps, “it’s outside. We’d have to take the warp pad there.”

“Alright.”

Lars walks to the crystal platform inside the house, expecting Steven to come with. In spite of all his confusion, the half-gem takes them to the giant hand statue that holds the machine and the clothes that are yet to be dried.

Steven hasn’t been here with someone else in a long time, to be fair. He’s had good times here. But bad ones too.

Lars does all the work, even if Steven insists he shouldn’t. The older boy doesn’t complain.

The stained pink jacket is then inside the repetitive, circled movement inside, the crimson clues to be gone in minutes. Lars doesn’t actually question how the washing machine works, which is quite unlike his nature.

Steven is scared of questioning it, afraid Lars might actually be mad at him. Maybe he’s planning to leave soon. He must be doing all of this out of obligation, even though he shouldn’t.

Lars is waiting in front of the machine, arms crossed. They don’t share any words.

Steven has… so much to say, and yet…

He’s so humiliated.

He sits at the corner of the giant hand, holding his own hands.

“Lars…” Steven dares let out, “are you mad at me?”

The seconds that follow terrify him.

“No,” Lars replies simply, approaching him, “of course not.”

“Why won’t you say anything, then?” Steven insists, loud. “W-Why are you still here?” He burns pink, “I thought you wouldn’t want to see me again after everything I’ve done!”

He dries his own tears, ultimately hiding his face because it’s useless.

Lars is sitting next to him, but not too close.

“Do you want me to leave?” The older teen wonders.

Steven overthinks.

“… no.”

“I thought so.”

Steven vaguely looks at his friend. “D-Do you want to, though?”

“No.”

“Why not?”

“Because you’re my friend, Steven. And something has been wrong for a long time now,”—Lars looks back, sympathetic —“hasn’t it?”

The sixteen-year-old gazes at him, unable to give a verbal response.

Lars gets it.

“Have you…” he hesitates, “have you hurt yourself before?”

Steven clutches his arms.

“Yeah.”

“Does it make you feel better?”

Steven ponders in the setting, giant sun watching them from the horizon.

“I don’t know,” he mutters.

Lars quietly expects him to continue.

“I hate doing it, actually,” Steven admits, “I always feel sick every time I do it. But for some reason, I… I want to do it again, again, and again, because… it’s all I can do.”

He stares at his arm, as if it’s red still.

“I know it’s wrong, but… it’s all I have right now. It’s the only way I have of letting everything out, without hurting anyone else. I can’t let people know how much of a mess I am, or else—” he sniffs, “they’re going to leave me. They’re going to realize I’m a fraud. T-That I’m- I’m not as good as everyone thinks I am.”

Steven squeezes his arm, quite too tight.

Lars puts his hand onto his, silently asking him to stop.

He does.

“So, no one else knows about this?” Lars asks.

Steven shakes his head.

“I didn’t want you to find out.”

Lars doesn’t take his hand away. In fact, he’s rubbing Steven’s arm again. The latter doesn’t want to say it, but it’s quite comforting.

“I’m glad I do, though,” the space pirate says. “I mean, of course I’m upset you’re hurt… but I could never leave you for feeling that way, buddy.”

Steven looks up in hope. “Really?”

“Really. Steven”— Lars sighs —“you know how much you mean to me, right?”

The younger boy wants to say yes, but…

“Well, maybe I don’t show it that much,” Lars speaks, taking his silence for an answer. “Maybe I should’ve realized why you were so upset at the Graduation, and I’m sorry I didn’t. But Steven… you’ve changed my life so much that I could never thank you enough. I wouldn’t be here if it weren’t for you. And even then, you didn’t need to prove me anything. I always knew you were amazing, as much of a prick I was back then.”

Steven is…

He’d never imagine Lars felt this way.

“What I mean is…” the taller boy’s eyes are also shining with water. “I love you, Steven. I do.” Lars is smiling with the most fondness Steven has ever seen. “And I love every part of you, even the ones you want to hide.” This time, he’s pulling Steven close with an arm wrapped around the latter’s shoulders. “I know it’ll take a while for you to remember this, but that’s okay. I’ll be here to remind you every time you need.”

“Lars…”

Steven has absolutely no idea what he could say.

I love you, too.

I’m sorry.

For what?

I don’t know.

Lars doesn’t expect him to speak, though.

He’s then squeezing Steven in a half hug.

“Can you promise me something?” Lars wonders. “Will you tell me when you want to hurt yourself again?”

Steven hesitates.

“I… I-I’ll try.”

“Please do. You don’t deserve to hurt, pal.”

Steven tries to hold in, but he buries himself in the other’s chest, like a child haunted by a nightmare. Lars retributes the hug and even rocks him a little side to side.

“I-I’m… I’m glad you’re here, Lars,” Steven sobs.

“Yeah, me too.” Lars puts a hand on the back of his head, softening his messy curls.

The now clean jacket is set to wait out in the night. The boys end up ordering pizza, pushing the baking session for another day. They resort to the champignon pizza Steven has gotten fond of as of late.

At least tonight, he sleeps at ease.

[michellejackson]

It’s the final chapter bitchessss

PART ONE PART TWO PART TREE PART FOUR PART FIVE

Fandom: Druck

Pairing: Fatou Jallow/Kieu My Vu

Wordcount: 2315

Kieu My realizes she got it all wrong.

“GOD, Fatou! I don’t have to talk to you all the time! Can’t you take a hint? I didn’t want to talk to you! I don’t want to talk to you! I need some space, okay!? I NEED to be alone. Go talk to your girlfriend or something…”

It pained Kieu My to say these words, but if she didn’t push Fatou away now she wasn’t sure when she could. The thought of pushing Fatou away never appealed to her before, not when she made out with Yara, not when she told her about her feelings for Yara – not once did she think of pushing Fatou away. She needed her in her life, she knew that. Even though they would never be romantically involved, Kieu My knew she needed Fatou as a friend. She meant too much to her.

But now, in this moment, Kieu My wanted to get away from Fatou, needed to get away. She didn’t want to talk to her, she didn’t want to hear her out, she just wanted to be left alone to push down her feelings until she was ready to put up a front again. Fatou could always read her though.

“Kieu My, what’s going on with you? Did something happen?”

The rest of the fight was a blur to her, but she wasn’t ignorant to what she had said. Her intention was never to be cruel, but she was way too familiar with the shield it provided her. She wanted to stop, she could see how her words impacted Fatou, even though she tried to hide it.

“You know what? I will leave.”

She knew she shouldn’t have felt peace at these words, but she couldn’t take it anymore. Kieu My’s self-hatred only grew the more she talked, so when she finally succeeded, when Fatou finally decided she wasn’t worth it, she relaxed. She wanted out of this fight as soon as possible.

“But I will make you listen to me-” then Fatou had continued talking, and it got even worse. She’d called her out for not listening to her, for talking shit, and this she understood. She was rightfully called out. But then it got weirder, she started rambling about Kieu My not listening to her talk about her feelings, which she did. That’s exactly how she’d ended up like this in the first place. Okay fine, today she had cut her off, but could you blame her?

“I don’t know if it’s because you don’t care about me or if you’re just trying to avoid an awkward situation”

This felt like a punch to the gut, she never wanted Fatou to believe that she didn’t care about her, but this was unfair. Her not wanting to hear Fatou ramble about Yara a second time did not correlate to her not caring about Fatou. Her not wanting Fatou to break her heart did not correlate to her not caring about Fatou.

“An awkward situation” she’s really trying to rub it in, huh? “An awkward situation” … that’s where Fatou was wrong, it wouldn’t lead to an awkward situation. Hearing Fatou reject her would lead to a devastating situation, a situation Kieu My wasn’t ready for. Even with all she knew now, hearing the words come out of Fatou’s mouth would break her heart even more.

But then she said something crazy. Something that completely caught her off guard.

“And for the record, I’m not with Yara, I never was with Yara. No matter how much you want me to be with her I never will, I only made out with her on New Year’s to make you jealous, which obviously was a ridiculous idea in the first place, because I know you’ll never feel for me the way I feel for you, and that’s okay, but I just wish that you would just tell me that instead of ignoring me and pushing me away and making me feel like absolute shit!”

And then Fatou had left, not once looking back to see Kieu My’s jaw on the floor.

Which brings us to now.

Kieu My were frozen in her place. What did she just say? Her brain couldn’t even comprehend the words that had come out of Fatou’s mouth. She kept trying to play the words back in her mind.

“I only made out with her on New Year’s to make you jealous”

“To make you jealous”

“You”

What? That couldn’t be right, Kieu My must’ve misunderstood. Hope and desperation filled her, hope for the possibility that maybe Fatou loved her too, desperation for it to be the case. She swayed a little, suddenly dizzy. She thought back to all the times Fatou had tried to talk to her about her feelings. When they laid in bed, and Fatou said she’d “talked to Yara about crushes” Kieu My had just brushed her off after that, thinking she’d tell her about her crush on Yara. God, what did she say after?

“Yara was talking about how I should, well, talk about my feelings… with, well, you…”

Fatou weren’t about to reject her at all. She had to sit down.

All this time, Kieu My had been so sure that Fatou wanted to talk about her stupid crush on her, to tell her it would never happen, to cut her off. But in the end, it had been Fatou trying to confess her feelings, and Kieu My blowing her off, again and again. How insecure had she been? How could she not have seen this?

She had been so awful to Fatou just minutes before. Did she really have a right to run after her now?

Fuck. She didn’t care. She needed the truth. She needed Fatou to tell her the truth.

She ran down the stairs of her apartment building and right out the door without putting on shoes or a jacket. Fatou couldn’t have gone far. She looked around frantically as she got outside, but it was hard to see through the pouring rain. Of course it was raining, it was just her luck. She was running in only socks, trying to find her love.

Kieu My started to curse herself as she ran in the rain towards Fatou’s place. How had she gotten this far? It wasn’t before minutes later she realized why when she spotted her in the far distance, of course; the girl was skating. Kieu My ran faster, until she was within shouting distance.

“What the hell did you say?”

Fatou quickly stopped her board, almost tumbling off it. She turned around, confused. Kieu My slowed her run and instead started walking towards her.

“Did you just say that you’re in love with me?”

Her voice was shaking, she wasn’t sure if it was from the cold rain or her nerves. Fatou barely looked at her.

“Kieu My, you’re barely dressed. Go back home.”

She took long, quick steps closer, they now stood less than a meter apart. She could see that Fatou had been crying – no – is crying. Her stomach clenched. She’d been crying because of her. She had half a thought to wipe her tears away, but she was too scared to touch the girl. She continued on,

“what did you say, Fatou? Are you in love with me?”

Fatou looked pained. She looked like she wanted to be anywhere but here, but Kieu My could see the moment Fatou decided to face the music. Her chin rose, and she looked Kieu My straight in the eyes with a put-on stern expression as she said,

“as if you didn’t know that already”.

And there it was. Fatou really thought Kieu My had been blowing her off because of her feelings for her. Because of her feelings for her. Fatou had feelings for her. Romantic ones. For a second, Kieu My was awestruck. She didn’t know what to say. Fatou was in love with her. Her. Not Yara, but her. For once she let her tears fall.

“I didn’t”

Fatou brushed it off. Kieu My could see she was bothered, but she put on a act. Just like Kieu My had done mere minutes before.

“Well, now you know. And what difference does it make? You were clearly happy to have me out of your hair.”

Kieu My was drenched. Unlike Fatou, she didn’t have a raincoat to shield her. She just stood there looking at the love of her life in a singlet and some sweatpants, while the rain tried it’s best to drown her. She hugged herself.

“Since when?”

Despite her best effort, her voice cracked, and she could see Fatou starting to worry about her.

“Why does it matter?” She let go of the stern act, and now she just sounded defeated. Kieu My went soft.

“Since when, Fatou?”

She moved closer to her, almost closing the gap. Fatou looked at her like she was a question and an answer all the same.

“Since we were eight and you punched Constantin for making fun of my hair.”

The answer was instant, she didn’t even have to think about it. Kieu My’s heart warmed, and she couldn’t help but smile. Fatou had been in love with her since they were children. All this time…

“You’ve been in love with me all this time?”

Something came over Fatou, and her stern expression was back. She backed away from Kieu My.

“What do you want Kieu My? Do you want to humiliate me or something? Done. Now leave me alone.”

She threw down her board, but before she could hop on it Kieu My took her hand and yanked her back. She didn’t let go. Her hand was warm in comparison to Kieu My’s and although Fatou tried to get her hand back, Kieu My didn’t let go. She closed the distance before Fatou could even open her mouth. Her hands cupped Fatou’s face. Fatou looked up at her, expression filled with confusion.

This was it.

This was the moment Kieu My had been waiting for. There’s no turning back now, and for once, Kieu My found that she didn’t want to go back either.

“I’m in love with you too”

The words came out a whisper, but she could see Fatou registering them all the same. She looked to her lips, and then back to her eyes, her beautiful eyes. Fatou didn’t move, so Kieu My moved for her. Slowly, she nudged Fatou’s nose with hers, giving her an opportunity to push her away. She didn’t. Before Kieu My got a chance to close the distance entirely, Fatou wrapped an arm around her neck and tip toed to meet her lips.

They weren’t in sync at first.

While Fatou clung to Kieu My with all she had, kissing her like she might disappear at any time, Kieu My held Fatou’s face gently, afraid to be pushed away, and kissed her like she had all the time in the world. Because she had. And in the end, Fatou realized that too.

-

Hours later, they were lying in Kieu My’s bed, finally dry after the pouring rain. Fatou was wearing clothes borrowed from her girlfriend, and Kieu My was just taking it all in. Their legs were tangled and Fatou held her close as she kissed every inch of her face. The position was familiar, she’d lain in bed with Fatou multiple times, cuddling, but now she got to kiss her, to touch her places she couldn’t before, to openly love her. She didn’t know she could feel so happy and so… free. The smile never left her face.

Fatou continued kissing her, now wandering down her neck. She untangled her legs from Kieu My so she could reposition herself to sit on top of her, each leg on a different side of her body, hands positioned on her stomach, trapping her.

“When did you know you were in love with me?” Fatou asked softly, with so much love in her voice, in her beautiful voice, and a twinkle in her eye. The extra weight on top of her relaxed her, grounded her in a way, and she’d never felt more at peace. She placed one hand on Fatou’s thigh as she said, “remember New Year’s?” and Fatou gasped, taking ahold of her hand.

“No!”

Kieu My grinned and nodded. Fatou groaned as she bent down to nuzzle her neck.

“God that was such a mess– Yara have been telling me I’m an idiot every day since then” Fatou admits into her neck, and Kieu My can’t help but giggle. She starts playing with her hair.

“As she should,” she jokes.

Fatou looks at her with a fake firm expression “hey, you should respect your girlfriend”

“oh, is that what we are?” Kieu My grins, cupping Fatou’s face as to kiss her for the hundredth time.

“Kieu My, if this is not us being girlfriends I’m leaving and never talking to you again.”

“I will not be threatened and bullied into silence” Fatou grins too then and leans down to kiss her softly. Kieu My asks for her to lay on top of her, and she does. They’re silent for a while, just appreciating the moment. The little moments.

“I’m sorry Fatou” Kieu My puts her arms around her girlfriends’ neck, keeping her in place while she caresses her arm, “for what?”

“For pushing you away, I never thought… I never thought you’d want me like this” she admits with a lump in her throat, glad they’re not face to face as speaks. She further tangles her fingers gently into Fatou’s hair, keeping her down, not letting her look at her.

Fatou stops caressing her arm and is silent for a second. She removes Kieu My’s hand from her hair and instead entangle their fingers as she looks up at her, all smiles.

“You could never push me away, Kieu My”

[vannahfanfics]

If Love Was A Color

Category: Mild Romantic Fluff

Fandom: My Hero Academia

Characters: Katsuki Bakugo, Ochako Uraraka

Additional Tags: Quirkless AU, Soulmate AU

Katsuki’s red eyes zeroed in on the word outlined in the fine print stretching across the six-inch-thick book in front of him. While many of the students congregating in the library would find the massive treatise daunting— especially considering its contents were as dull as the lightbulbs flickering in their dumb heads— Katsuki absorbed every syllable. Committing laws to memory was no easy task, but he embraced the challenge. After all, one day, he would be Japan’s most renowned prosecutor. 

Katsuki’s eyebrows twitched as the loud giggling of girls disrupted his concentration. He glanced over his shoulder with lidded eyes to watch two first-year students clutching coffee cups stroll by.

“So you met your soulmate in Introduction to Biology?” one asked, a pretentious-looking girl whose ponytail looked tight enough to rip off her scalp. 

“Yes! He’s so handsome and so dreamy! He wants to be a doctor; I can’t believe I lucked out with someone so smart and driven!” the other squealed as she pressed a hand to her flushing face. Her cheeks darkened as her friend joked that she should just drop out and marry him since he’ll be so rich; the girl laughed and insisted no, she couldn’t, how improper… But Katsuki could see the wheels turning in her head. He scowled as they disappeared behind some shelves, but their giggles floated behind them, clouding Katsuki’s study sanctuary with obnoxiousness. 

Katsuki hated the concept of soulmates— or really, love in general. First of all, it was so fucked that there was some predetermined person you were miraculously just supposed to commit to spending your life with. What if they were a bitch, like that girl who would rather slide right into a rich man’s pockets and had no work ethic? What if they were some bum who lived in their mother’s basement? It burned Katsuki up inside, the fact that he was supposed to just accept someone without them earning his approval first. There was no way in hell he would let someone ride his coattails off the pretense of love. He had way too much to worry about anyway, as a college senior. 

Still… Sometimes he had to admit that having monochromatic vision was a problem. Although the world adapted to the fact that people were colorblind until they met their soulmates, most people actively sought them— so by Katsuki’s age, most assumed that you had colored vision. He had to continually nag his professors for including color-coded charts and the like in their lectures because how the fuck was he going to differentiate? Still, that problem could be solved just by making waves— and Katsuki was damn good at that. 

Ugh. I have a headache now, listening to those two bimbos prattle, he scowled, rubbing his temples as a dull pounding made a home in his skull. He pushed away from the table, leaving the open books and notes behind to walk the short distance to the coffee shop that adjoined the university’s four-story library. As he stood in line to order himself a plain black coffee, silently reciting the laws he’d just memorized in his head, he didn’t notice the door slam open and someone flurry into the small shop— that is, until they plowed into a chair, tripped over it, and slammed right into Katsuki’s back. 

“Uwahhhhh!” they screeched. With a surprised yelp, Katsuki reflexively arched his back as their face crashed right between his shoulder blades. Crimson eyes wide in confused, he whirled around to face the clumsy stranger— 

and then recoiled because color exploded into his world. He groaned as he staggered back into the display, eyes twitching as his previously inactive rods and cones sprang into life to fill his vision with a million different hues. He held his hand over his eyes, trying to adjust to the thin slivers of color peeking out through his fingers, and watched as a short, round-faced girl with a bob cut slowly straightened up while rubbing her nose. 

“Ow, ow, ow,” she whined pitifully before cracking an eye open. Katsuki gawked at the dark, warm hue that filled her irises, the same color as the tables’ rich wood— brown? Was that brown? Her hair was the same color, so if she was a brunette, it would make sense. Slowly, he lowered his hand from his eyes, squinting as the pain ebbed. She raised her head, mouth opening to apologize— and then she inhaled sharply. 

“Wow. Your eyes are such a beautiful color.” 

Katsuki could feel the heat rush from his toes to the crown of his head. His mother had always told him he’d had crimson eyes like rubies. The girl continued to pore over them, a serene smile blooming on her face before it dawned on her. 

“Wait, wait, wait, I— color? But that means we—! You’re my—! Oh gosh!” she spluttered. Katsuki winced as she slapped her hands hard to her cheeks, causing the skin to bloom pink there— pink, yes, that was the color of blushing. She continued to squirm wildly, entirely overwhelmed by the situation, before she managed to squeak out a sentence. “I’m Ochako Uraraka! It’s very nice to meet you, um, soulmate— Oh, that sounds so creepy!” she wailed and tugged at her chestnut tresses of hair. She looked apologetically at him. Her face turned a deep burning red. “Let me try this again… Your name, what’s your name?” 

“Katsuki Bakugo.”

The barista called him to take his order, so he turned on his heel and did. As he was handing a few bills over the counter, Ochako scampered up behind him to peek over his shoulder. 

“A plain black coffee, huh? You see the type!” she chirped. “I like sweet things— iced coffees with lots of cream, sugar, and flavored syrups are delicious! My favorite flavor is Irish cream— hey, where are you going?” she whined as Katsuki ignored her prattling to take his coffee and begin walking to the exit of the store. He grimaced as she followed after him, swinging her arms and hips a little so that the little planet glitter charm— it was dark, could that be purple?— on her bookbag swung back and forth. “We’re soulmates, right? We should get to know each other, don’tcha think?” 

“Sorry,” Katsuki huffed as he pushed the door open. “I don’t do the whole soulmate thing.” 

He tried not to think of the pitifully sad look on Ochako’s face as he closed the door right in it— but he found that it stuck in his memory for the next three days until he came to the library again. 

She had some determination; he would give her that. She found him in his little nook, leaning his chair back on two legs as he pored over another law book— one that had a blue binding, Eijirou had told him. He didn’t even notice her approaching until he heard the soft tap of a cup, and he looked up to see her standing there, smiling pleasantly as she slid a black coffee towards him. 

“You’re a diligent student, I see. Studying pre-law?” she observed with a point at the book cover. Katsuki snorted, half-debating ignoring her again and rejecting the coffee, but he was running on empty. Why refuse free caffeine? Though he loathed small talk, he supposed he could entertain her for a few minutes, as thanks.

“Yeah,” he answered as he picked up the cup and sipped at the steaming hot beverage. The tension melted from his shoulders as the robust flavor of the roasted beans hit his tongue; it wasn’t long after that the caffeine kicked in, giving his dulled senses and attention a nice buzz. He noticed Ochako slip into the seat opposite him, continuing to smile with those big brown eyes of hers sparkling. He saw the purple planet charm— Saturn, he realized— sitting atop her backpack, so he pointed to it. 

“Astronomy?” 

“Aerospace engineering.” 

Katsuki released an appreciative whistle. He hadn’t expected that of the bubbly girl, and despite his reservations, he had to respect her challenging curriculum. She puffed out her chest with a prideful grin and continued, “I want to design rockets!” 

“A space case for a rocket scientist. That’s perfect,” he snorted with laughter, making Ochako puff out her cheeks in defiance. Now that he noticed, they looked so soft and round… He almost had the urge to pinch them and feel how squishy they were. Almost. 

“Yeah, yeah, I’m a little spacey, but it doesn’t matter as long as I can solve the equations, does it?” she retorted haughtily. Katsuki shook his head, muttering a “Guess not,” and she reclined in her seat with a satisfied smirk. Katsuki’s crimson eyes fell back to the law book he was osmosing, and he could see her watching him intently above the tops of the thick pages. “What do you want to do?” she asked slowly. She seemed to be getting the hint that he didn’t want to be bothered for long, but there was a stubborn glint in her eyes. 

“Prosecute,” he quipped, not looking up at her. 

“Wow! That’s an ambitious goal. It takes a lot to be a government prosecutor.” 

“Yeah, it does— a lot of studying, which, if you don’t mind, I would like to get back to,” he huffed with more venom than he meant. A strange sinking feeling washed over him as he watched the girl sink a little into her chair and her smile fold down at the edges. Silently, she got up and slipped her backpack on, mumbling a half-hearted “see you later.” As she began to leave, he cleared his throat. 

“Thanks for the coffee,” he added with a frustrating heat rising to his cheeks. Ochako glanced at the half-empty cup, then back to him— and her smile returned a little sliver. 

The next time they ran into each other, he was in line to get coffee again. She came in afluster, face scrunched as she pored over a notebook scrawled with mathematical equations; she was so absorbed in her calculations that she didn’t notice Katsuki standing in front of her, nor that he ordered an Irish cream and hazelnut coffee with extra cream in sugar. As he turned around, she shuffled forward thinking he had exited the line and bumped right into his chest. Her round cheeks pinkened and she looked up to squeak out an apology, but it died in her throat when she noticed it was him. 

Wordlessly, he held out the coffee to her. 

“To pay you back for the other day,” he explained as she took it, looking at him like he’d given her a ring instead of an iced coffee. She hid her bashful smile behind the white lid, slowly turning her body from side-to-side. As they moved out of line, he gestured to the messy array of numbers and letters on the pages. “What’s that? Looks intense.” 

“It’s an extra credit assignment. If we solve this equation, we get ten bonus points on midterms… But it’s presenting quite a challenge,” she groaned as she scratched at her scalp with the end of her pencil. Smiling, Katsuki pulled out a chair for her and she automatically sank down, her brown eyes never leaving the paper. It was kind of cute, the way her eyebrows scrunched together and her lips poked out in a thoughtful pout. Katsuki found himself softening as he gazed at her; though it definitely looked like a challenging problem, the sparkle in her eyes indicated that she was rather enjoying it. 

He liked that. 

Wait a minute, he realized, his train of thought derailing and veering off a canyonside. The gears turning in his brain threatened to overheat and spin out of control as he considered what he had just actually thought. Him, liking Ochako? No. No, no, no. That wasn’t possible. Katsuki didn’t do love, he didn’t do dating, he didn’t do soulmates. 

“Good luck with your problem. I gotta go,” he blurted, using his hand to hide the blush creeping onto his face. Ochako looked up with a confused gasp, but he was already marching out the door. Dimly, he could hear her meekly call, “Thanks for the coffee…” 

As he stalked down the sidewalk, oblivious to the cloudy gray sky and the pattering rain beginning to sprinkle down from the heavens to dye the white sidewalk a deep slate, Katsuki’s mind was whirling. He tugged at his ash-blond strands of hair with a deep, guttural growl. He couldn’t like Ochako. He wouldn’t like Ochako. He’d always sworn that he’d never fall into that trap; he’d never take stock into that soulmate bullshit. It was just his subconscious; it had to be! He didn’t have a crush on her. It was just the internalization of all that soulmate propaganda trying to trick him into thinking he had to like her. 

Right? He didn’t like Ochako. He didn’t like her sweet soft voice, or her warm brown eyes, or her big broad toothy smile her rosy round cheeks complimented so well. He didn’t find that little purple Saturn charm endearing, nor the way she pushed her fingers together when she was nervous, nor her little thoughtful pout and scrunched brows. He didn’t. He couldn’t. He wouldn’t. 

Katsuki stopped walking. He tipped his head up to stare defeatedly up at the cloudy gray sky. Gray. He hated that color now. It reminded him of a time when the world was just that— gray and lifeless and dull. Just Katsuki and his law books, all in monochrome. 

Now the sky was blue, and so were the bluebirds nesting in the eaves of his dorm. Now the grass was green, as were the leaves that rustled in the trees lining the walking track by the gym. Now the sun was yellow, like the buttercups growing in front of the library. Katsuki’s eyes were red, like Eijirou’s spiky red hair and the apples he insisted on crunching on every morning though Katsuki hated the sound. Now grapes were purple, like Ochako’s glittery Saturn planet charm. 

Now hearts were pink, just like Ochako’s warm, squishable, cute little cheeks. If Katsuki had to pick what color love was, it would be pink. 

He dropped his head down with a sardonic chuckle. The water dripped down from his drenched hair to run down his face in rivulets. Pink, like Katsuki’s face every time he clapped on eyes on that clumsy, space case, chubby-cheeked cutie who happened to be his soulmate. 

Damn it. He was in love with Ochako. 

The slick sidewalk squeaked under his tennis shoe as he whirled on his heel to sprint back to the library. He surprised Ochako as she was walking through the double doors, making her compulsively chuck the notebook forward. She gasped and reached out as it spiraled out into the rain; if it landed in a puddle, the black ink on the pages would bleed into incomprehensible smudges, and she’d never get that extra credit she was working so hard to earn. Katsuki caught it as it sailed over his head, slowly bringing it to his chest to shield it with his body. 

“K-Katsuki?” Ochako asked uncertainly, looking him up and down. He probably looked a sight, clothes and hair soaked from the rain and his chest heaving from the feverish sprint. 

“You wanna know something? The first time I saw you, I couldn’t help but think that your eyes were the most beautiful color,” he whispered. It’s true, he loved the pink shade her cheeks turned— but nothing compared to that warm chocolatey brown that sucked him in and embraced him in warmth. 

“I… I thought you didn’t do soulmates,” she swallowed, pushing her fingers together. Katsuki walked forward with a soft smile, holding out the notebook to her. 

“I changed my mind,” he said while reaching up to brush a strand of her soft brown hair out of her face. He then grinned devilishly and pinched her cheek, making her squeak in protest. “Can’t resist ya, Cheeks.” 

“What happened to Space Case?” 

“You’ve been upgraded. Congratulations.” 

Ochako blinked at him, then began laughing. She took the notebook back and hugged it to her chest, airy giggles making her shoulders shake a little. Now that he heard them from Ochako, he supposed those girly giggles weren’t that bad. 

This soulmate thing… He could get used to it.

Enjoy this oneshot? Feel free to peruse my Table of Contents!

[honestlyhufflepuff]

Taking a closer look at “Why So Blue”

This episode was a lovely break from Steven’s “baggage,” instead focusing on the growth Lapis has had. It was visually beautiful, with a touching new song from Lapis, and an interesting contrast from gems that remind her of her old self.

However, I feel this episode has been a little neglected in the fandom as far as the things it tells us about Steven and the world around him. Remember, Future is primarily about Steven’s arc and anything revealed about another character is bound to reveal something about him as well. “Why So blue” has been overshadowed by more dramatic episodes that had Steven’s anger and negative feelings at the forefront. This is no surprise, as seeing Steven’s issues manifesting so intensely is still such a new thing for the fans to process. This episode has Steven acting closer to his lighthearted, optimistic “old self” than any other one in SUF, and I wanted to delve into the implications of that. Let’s break down some things the episode establishes…

1. Despite his “outbursts,” Steven is still a Pacifist at heart.

This look was all it took for Lapis to regain control of herself. In this episode- this moment- is when he really seemed the most like “Classic Steven.” He’s not shouting at her to stop, or joining in the fight. He is just believing in Lapis’s growth and giving her the space to come around on her own. I don’t think the Steven we saw in “Guidance” would have done that. Part of this shift is due to his personal growth, but it’s also probably because he is falling back into his old role of pacifying hostile gems, which is what he knows best and what he’s comfortable with. That isn’t healthy, especially considering how much we’ve seen him panic when he doesn’t have someone to fix in later eps. However, it’s still a relief to see that fighting is not his first recourse despite his new “pink” powers making an appearance almost every episode.

2. Our Lapis is far stronger than your average Lapis. It is unclear if she was designed to be this way or if it is a result of her trials. Regardless, the Crystal Gems should be very grateful she’s on their side. She has the potential to rival a Diamond in combat.

She fixin’ to mess y’all up.

3. Steven has had growth over the course of SUF.

I bring this up because I think even though Steven is facing a very real personal crisis regarding his growth, he’s still had positive changes since the original series, and since the start of Future.

Lapis: I wish I hadn’t done that. They just remind me so much of myself. It’s infuriating.

Steven: Give yourself a break. You’ve grown a lot. It’s not your fault they’re stuck in their ways.

Contrast Steven’s attitude in this scene with his attitude towards Jasper back in Little Homeschool, after agonizing about his inability to change her:

Are you just going to sit here…waiting for someone to give you a purpose? Because I’m TRYING to give you one!

There have been obvious parallels between Jasper and Steven in this series, as Jasper is possibly the only character almost as stuck in the past as Steven is. I don’t know if Steven is self aware enough to realize that Jasper set him off so easily because he saw himself in her, like Lapis did in the HW Lapises. What he has realized is that not all gems will change in the way he imagined they should, and that’s ok. Him and Jasper, as far as we know, are not exactly friends, but they have an understanding of each other. Jasper may always be stuck in her ways, and Steven has apparently made peace with the fact that her bitterness is not his burden. He even sees value in the fact that she sees the world differently from him, and wants to learn from her.

This was a huge point of growth for Steven. All he did through the main series was try to fix people, and it’s obviously taken a toll on him. The only problem is now that he’s let go of his need to fix others by leaving Little Homeschool, he doesn’t know how to do anything else.

Steven has moments of self awareness regarding his issues (in between all the repression, avoidance, and denial) throughout SUF. One is in this moment with with Lapis, where he articulates that you can’t blame yourself for someone else not wanting to change and grow. He admitted to the Rose Quartzes that he’s “not fine,” but vehemently says the opposite to anyone else. He admits to Pink Pearl that he has “baggage,” although he won’t elaborate. He admits to Amethyst that his need to control others is a problem. He admits to his friends- under extreme duress and prodding- that he is having a hard time coping with cange. He opens up to “Cactus Steven” more than anyone, but after how that turned out the next time he opens up won’t come very easily.

My point is, Steven is still growing as a person, but it is a slow process due to all the trauma he is processing, compounded with having powers just as volatile as his emotions are.

4. HW gems are having a hard time letting go of the old caste system.

He’s half Diamond. Maybe we should half listen.

If the Lapises were really listening to Steven in the first place, then their primary motivation for listening to him would not be him being “half diamond.” The whole point of him overthrowing the empire was to create an equal society where Diamonds wouldn’t dictate what everyone does anymore.

How can the thing we’ve always done just suddenly be wrong?

Everyone is having trouble adjusting to this new equality in practice, including Steven. This is a massive, ancient, complex dictatorship that is now adjusting to a new government created by a human teenager. A Diamond is the one teaching and leading the new way things work, so of course it’s a mixed message for HW gems who have him telling them everyone is equal, but also that they no longer can do what they want to if it impedes his vision. I certainly wouldn’t want to be in Steven’s position. It would make most people uncomfortable to tell someone that the thing they were created for- that they also take joy and pride in- is now not only obsolete but morally wrong. Hooray for minors dealing with the nuances of cultural sensitivity in their galactic imperialism!

“He’s smaller than I thought.

Funny that this was the same thing said by the Rose Quartzes. It’s probably hard for any gem to imagine a Diamond that is not massive and imposing, but Steven is still pretty small even for a human (and still shorter than Connie). I can imagine this is why Jasper was so quick to reject him as her Diamond. Steven does not project the towering picture of immortal and flawless power as the other Diamonds have, and this is inevitably disappointing to gems that have long valued that image.

You really expect us to dance and sing like Pearls?

Gem society was not lacking in the arts, but they were strictly reserved for the elite and those who served to perform for them.

It’s interesting that Peridot had no idea what music was, and I presume this is because she was in a lower status than Lapis. The problem is not that the HW Lapises were unaware of artistic expression, but that they found it beneath them. The Lapises take pride in being instruments of power and destruction, the opposite of how everyone perceives Pearls. It’s no surprise they perceived such a heartfelt song from a fellow Lapis as “pitiful.”

Despite the fact that Pearls were very close to those in power, they had none of their own, and even Peridot considered herself above them when she first arrived from Homeworld. Pearls were created to be objects. Status symbols. Pretty little ornaments. Music boxes. And gems created for more “practical” purposes than entertaining the elite and opening doors would see anything associated with Pearls as beneath them.

5. Hot take: Lapis’s approach wasn’t totally in the wrong.

Lapis: We’ve just got to force them to stop. They’re not nice like me.

Steven: Ummm *avoids eye contact*

Lapis: Exactly.

The HW Lapises- much like Jasper- valued physical power over other virtues. Lapis beat herself up a lot for her loss of restraint, but communicating a bit with a show of the type of power the Lapises valued was enough to get them to listen. Steven’s approach alone clearly wasn’t working.

Sometimes people think so differently from you that you have to meet them halfway to have any hope of getting through to them. Steven did this when he agreed to fight Jasper.

I think the main reason he feared Lapis taking this approach was because he knew her past. He knew how hard she was to reign in once she got started, and how drastic she could be in confrontation. I mean, that’s why we have the entire Malachite story arc.

Restraint takes strength! Patience takes strength! Ugh, I don’t have the strength to deal with you.

However, Lapis has grown past that stage of her life, where her trauma ruled all her interactions with others. She has friends- like Steven and Peridot- who keep her grounded. She has developed healthy coping skills and outlets for her processing her emotions. This is why is so concerning to see Steven doing the opposite. The more fragile his mental state becomes, the more he distances himself from his closest friends and interests.

Lapis had the self awareness to realize she was slipping into old habits and losing control, and removed herself from the situation to cool down. That is huge for her.

Not every gem is going to want to go to Little Homeschool, and there’s probably a lot of them that still like fighting and destruction- especially if that’s what they were made for. Era 3 is so bent on avoiding violence that there isn’t really an outlet for pent up aggression (which Steven could use as well, btw). I think starting up some kind of gem dojo would be a great alternative instead of just expecting every gem to like the “softer” things like dancing and making meep morp.

Also, just imagine Jasper as a dojo master. Hell yeah.

6. Most people probably do not realize that Steven is struggling.

Wow, Steven. It took you a whole 5 seconds to make a new friend. You’re getting rusty.

I found this quote from Lapis telling. She still sees Steven as being able to make and keep friends effortlessly. In “Room for Ruby,” she was actually relieved to hear Ruby’s immediate love for earth was all an act, laughing and saying “No one could be that well adjusted.” The only exception to this rule for her seems to be Steven. She looks to him for stability, just like she did in the fight with the other Lapises.

In reality, Steven is terrified of his friends moving on and changing, while also being resentful if they don’t recognize he has changed. He has unresolved trauma that is eating away at him and causing him to have emotions he doesn’t know how to handle. However, most people probably see Steven as he presented in “Why So Blue-” gentle, charismatic, and carefree. It is not uncommon with mental illness to be “high functioning” in public and then come undone the moment you are home around your immediate family.

Even after the very public display of his stress in “Little Graduation,” none of his friends were like “dude, you’re scaring me, please go to therapy.” They saw one incident, but not the whole picture, so none of them seemed to really grasp how bad things are going for him. This is because Steven is still pretty adept at putting up a positive front most of the time.

***

Anyways, I just wanted to revisit this episode and give it some love. Feel free to RB and tell me things you noticed about it that I may have missed!

[sunflowers-insherwood]

Allan A Dale Analysis - 2x06

Investigating Allan A Dale’s Character Through For England...!

2x06 of BBC Robin Hood arguably presents some of the most dynamic character relationships and power plays of the entire series, and it was for this reason I came away from rewatching it a few nights ago and instantly began to scribble notes. Originally I aimed to write about the wider relationships within the episode – Guy and Marian’s as well as Guy and the Sheriff’s are particularly interesting here – but alas, I just couldn’t stop myself from writing about my favourite character Allan A Dale, who also goes through one of the climaxes of his general progression and betrayal arc in this episode. As a fan favourite, Allan is often seen throughout the fandom as the victim of a series of worsening situations, and while this is a credible interpretation, it often forgets to acknowledge Allan’s agency and his decisions to go ahead with actions that slow the greater good. Although I agree that Allan’s betrayal and further descent is largely worsened by the actions of those around him, in this essay I hope to restore his accountability and show how he initiates several violent acts, all while victimising himself by placing the blame on others. I will walk through the episode chronologically, analysing his motives, actions, and their consequences, trying to establish a fair view of Allan’s reasoning in this episode, as I examine not just his actions, but the decisions he made in order to complete them. (Wordcount: 3.2k)

This can be read alone, but works best when read after my 2x05 confrontation analysis.

This episode is the first time we see Allan operating fully outside of the gang he’s been a part of for the rest of the series. At the end of 2x05, Robin finds out Allan is the spy who has been working for Gisborne, and they truly clash for the first time. In 2x06, his first scene occurs right at the beginning, as we see Allan trek back into the forest with the hood of his cloak up to avoid being seen by the gang, in order to gather the money from his stash. However, he arrives only to find the gang have found his money, as they proceed to yell at him for being a traitor and keep his stash. The gang’s pain here is understandable; Allan hasn’t been able to explain that the catalyst for his betrayal was physical and emotional torture, (he told Robin but Robin dismissed this and likely hasn’t told the gang) so they think he was more willing to work for Gisborne than he actually was. The pain of the wound is fresh, him having been told to leave by Robin what can only be assumed to be a day or so before. To them, they are taking his ‘blood money’ to help the poor. However, Allan now has very little to survive on. He essentially only has the clothes on his back, as he can’t go back to camp to collect his belongings, and so only has what he left with. His worse possible situation has become his reality overnight: he has gone from having both friends and money to neither. I imagine when the reality of his spying first hit him, he calmed himself from the worry of being thrown out of the gang with the promise of money; he’d have no friends but a means to survive (which is what he wanted the money for in the first place, he wanted financial security), yet now he has neither. However, he still repeatedly tries to reach out to the rest of the gang, saying he never wanted this to happen, but is interrupted by the black knight carriage that drives between them and he runs away, likely to avoid being caught by the Sheriff’s men but also to re-evaluate his situation, as he’s now probably feeling especially vulnerable. In his eyes, this is another situation where Robin or the gang could have given him a second chance but haven’t. (Sidenote, he and the gang are literally divided by the Sheriff’s men, if that ain’t symbolism I don’t know what is).

So now, feeling completely abandoned by the rest of the gang, who have not just been passive in their dislike but have actively taken his only money, he goes to the only person he has left – Guy. Yes, he could’ve left Nottingham and begun a new life, but this would have been extremely difficult, especially keeping in mind that Robin saved Allan from losing a hand when he was poaching to survive after his brother stole everything from him in a similar situation before. Basically, surviving alone is hard, and he knows this, so his quickest and easiest option is to go to the one contact he has who won’t reject him instantly, which is Guy. By the end of the episode, I argue that Allan has more spiteful motivations, but I believe he initially goes to Guy out of necessity, rather than as an act of vengeance against the gang by siding with the enemy.

And luckily for him, Guy agrees to take him on! Some more stuff happens but as I can’t remember it, I’m not going to deem it that important. The next time we properly see him is when he walks into the wrong place at the wrong time, and the Sheriff instantly calls for him to be hanged. We see him arrested, although never in the cells, however you can just imagine the anguish he’s going through there. I always view Allan as at least partially traumatised from his almost-hanging in 1x01, and now he’s been told he’s going to be hung again and is left to wait in a cell, knowing how painful a death it’s going to be, and without any hope of rescue. So now, on top of his exhaustion from sleeping rough for a night or two, having to completely adapt to a new environment and knowing his friends all hate and reject him without him being able to explain his actions, he’s also grappling with imminent death through his worst fear – he���s having what could be described as a really, really terrible time. Even Guy tells the guards to ‘take him away’, so he is essentially abandoned by everyone he knows. He is completely cornered with no way out.

Let’s expand our view for a minute and just think about Allan as a person. I love a good personality test, and my personal favourite is the Enneagram. The Enneagram categorises personalities into nine types, with a person’s basic desire and basic fear at the crux of this designation. I believe Allan to be a Type 7 with a 6 wing (7w6), which essentially means his biggest fears are of being deprived and in pain, and of being without security. If we go back to the episode, taking into account everything he’s just had to consider – a painful and imminent death, the loss of his friends, and loss of a shelter and money – and place that in the context of his worst fears – being deprived, in pain, without security - we see a man who has every single worst fear come true in the space of around 24 hours. And then, what if on top of this, we place him on a flimsy wooden plank on top of a vat of boiling liquid, pitted against the man who personifies why his life is now awful: we see a man who has lost everything, who is completely cornered, who has nowhere else to run, but an instinctual desire to survive. (Allan’s ideas of right and wrong aren’t as strong as the rest of the gang’s, and his desire to survive places these even further back on the priority list.)

Now, this doesn’t excuse what he does when he’s fighting Robin over that pit of boiling oil, but it does give an outline of just how emotionally wrecked he’s feeling. In that moment, it’s him versus Robin, him versus the man who is the reason why his life has gone to shit. I’m not saying that everything is Robin’s fault – while the inability of the others, especially Robin, to listen to Allan’s side of the story definitely accentuates his problems, he is still to blame for willingly feeding Guy information and the consequences of that – but to Allan, it is easier to blame everyone other than himself. In his head at this moment, he is the complete victim, as especially in the early moments of processing what is happening, it is easier to be angry at others rather than accept any of his own responsibility for what’s happening. So he’s angry at everyone in lieu of being angry at himself, and hence he takes the initial swing, initiating the fight despite Robin trying to stop him. (It was these moments in the fight which prompted me to write this essay, to investigate his reasoning, because before I viewed him as pretty much a complete victim, but here is an explicit example of how that is not true). Both Robin and Allan are being prodded by the guards to force them to fight, however, so I’m unsure how quickly he would take the first swing without their insistence.

They begin to fight, and I can’t remember all the ins and outs of their conversation as they fight but it’s mainly:

Allan: You should’ve given me a second chance.

Robin: When did you become so low?

Allan: When you started thinking you were better than everyone else.

Robin: Not better than everyone else, just you. Allan is now furious, as in his view, Robin has just completely backed him into a corner by forcing him out of the gang and taking his money, and is now lecturing him on morals, because Allan tried to find a way to survive despite this. (A difference in their priorities: Allan’s to survive, Robin’s to be good. Robin would rather die knowing he stayed true to his morals, but Allan would rather live). But the moment that is most interesting is when Robin is distracted, and Allan decides, completely of his own volition, to go for Robin with what should be a killing blow (Robin manages to twist out of the way last minute). But for all intents and purposes, Allan directly tries to kill Robin. He isn’t prompted by the guard’s stabbing at him, at the very least this isn’t shown, and he has the time while Robin is staring at Marian to properly consider what he’s about to do too. On screen, there is a wide shot of him getting ready to swing, which lasts long enough to see the action was, to some extent, mediated. This is the moment where you could lose faith in Allan as a good person, because he just tried to kill Robin in cold blood. There was no individual catalyst or bad influence (apart from the boiling vat of oil) like when he was previously pressured into betraying the gang, it’s entirely of his decision. Let’s break down the motives behind this action. He’s in the midst of the angriest he ever gets at the Robin and the gang, full of bitterness about his position, as well as in the heat of a life or death situation with the philosophy of ‘I’ve got nowhere else to go.’ In his eyes, he can either die right now, or live to survive another day and even gain the respect of Guy and the Sheriff, possibly guaranteeing him further work. That’s the first possible reasoning – he sees this more as a business opportunity to prove his loyalty to someone else and stay alive.  The other reasoning, of which his motive could be a mix of both or just one (I think it’s a mix), is that he’s genuinely so hurt and furious at Robin that in that moment he does just want to kill him. However, if he was motivated by such an emotion, it has to be interpreted as more of a spur of the moment decision as killing Robin would essentially completely seal his fate of never being able to get back together with the rest of the gang (which does become one of his largest desires by the end of season 2, so taking that into consideration, the moment he goes for Robin he’s likely not thinking of the consequences).

These moments as he’s fighting are so interesting to me, as so much of the time Allan is painted as a victim – which I realise I am kind of doing now – but it’s important to note just how much stuff he does of his own volition. I see these explanations as not excuses for his actions, but reasons, because he does decide to try to kill Robin, just as much as he decides to continue selling information to Guy after being tortured into agreeing. At the very least, he was completely out of rope, so it shows just how far he’s willing to go to protect himself when so much (or arguably so little) is on the line.

Straight after the moments where we see him at his most vicious and vengeful, however, he’s able to jump down from immediate danger, and while the wider fight between the merry men and the guards are happening, he sees John and instantly tries to reach out, saying a genuine thank you for helping save him. Despite being completely willing to kill Robin, he is easily able to thank and attempt to reconcile with John. This might be part of an ‘eye for an eye’ philosophy, as Robin pushed him away from the gang multiple times, but John has done nothing to directly hurt him. The only person Allan has anything against is Robin, the gang are collateral damage in this conflict between the two of them, and it just so happened to be Robin forced to fight him. It would be interesting to see his reaction to having to fight any other member of the gang, as I think he would act very differently – much more defensive than offensive. It also could be because Robin is the person Allan envies the most even when they are friends. He makes a dig of this nature at Robin when talking to him after he’s revealed as the spy in 2x05 (if you can’t defend yourself, attack, could be the ideology he’s using there), likely due to the Ron-Weasley-style insecurity of ‘you’re always in the sun and I’m always in the shade’. This is the same insecurity that Guy preys on when torturing him to convince him to sell him information, and it gets through to Allan, so it obviously runs deep. Robin is the person he has the most internal and external conflict with. When talking to John, it isn’t instant life or death, so he is calmer, and the only reason Allan even came close to killing Robin was due to the fact they were both captured and made to fight. If this hadn’t happened, I imagine Allan would’ve just stayed out the gang’s way until he found a way to get back to them. So he tries to reconnect with John, as he is a friend whom he holds nothing against, to show his gratitude and perhaps find some sympathy or allyship in the gang. All he gets is a punch in the face, though, which is kinda sad. However, this is, when considering John’s vantage point of the situation – Allan just betrayed the gang and tried to kill Robin – completely fair.

After the fight is over, the rest of the gang have made a safe getaway and Guy and the Sheriff are arguing over what to do next. The camera cuts to Allan nursing his bruised jaw from where John punched him, looking not only physically hurt, but pretty emotionally ruined too. When Guy orders him to move, he moves so slowly that it’s definitely more than just pain, but also exhaustion and him processing the full extent of what he just did and what happened to him. He tried to kill Robin, he tried to reach out to John and got rejected, and now he’s going to have to work for Guy for the foreseeable future. He now knows what the gang think of him for joining Gisborne: they see it as a direct attack against them, rather than him trying to survive. He’s dealing with the worst parts of himself while having to accept that he’s truly hated by the rest of the lads, and not just Robin. The fight was the climax of his bitterness and anger, but I think from this moment, we see him begin to realise he wasn’t the victim, and regret and grieve his actions. Although he does go along with the Sheriff’s orders while at the castle, he is subdued about it, replying to Marian’s demands for an explanation for his worse actions with a quiet helplessness as he just ‘knows what side  [his] bread is buttered on’ (2x12). He doesn’t like what he’s doing, shown by his multiple attempts to help the lads while at the castle, but he knows he must do it to survive. His instincts of self-preservation are too strong, and I think this leads to his main internal conflict and possible self-hatred, as he battles between doing what he can to live, and doing what is right. He has a lot of time for self-reflection at the castle, as he comes to term with what he has done, is doing, and must do in the future.

We don’t see anything else from Allan in this episode, but most notably, the camp dynamic is completely thrown after the fight – Much struggles with the silence as the eat at the end of the day, and as a team of five they are generally less mobile. They are able to fight well still, but in 2x06 after Robin writes his letter to Marian and says goodbye to them, about to sacrifice himself, they take a long time to read his letter and realise what he’s about to do. I think that, had Allan been there, he would’ve been able to read Robin better and prompted the others to read his letter more quickly. Here, his looser moral code and intuition would’ve proved highly helpful to the gang. On top of his, in his absence, Much gets even more of the bullying, as he worries more and the others increasingly tell him to ‘shut up’, leading to Much’s outburst in 2x12 which is only resolved by Allan coming back. Interesting, despite expecting Much to be the one to hold a grudge, he’s the first to welcome Allan back into the gang as they fight together, showing that he missed Allan’s presence much more than he let on, and felt the gang’s dynamic shift because of it. Much acts as the emotional compass for the gang, so to see him be so thrown by Allan’s leaving portrays how unstuck the others also feel.

All in all, Allan’s actions in 2x06 stem directly from his confrontation with Robin in 2x05, building on the insecurities and bitterness which Robin failed to acknowledge and address, instead diminishing his experience and taking away all options, until Allan’s only course was to leave the gang and join Guy – not yet in vengeance, but in the name of self-preservation. This backfires as he is almost hung by the Sheriff, left alone to face the threat of his worst fear. His fight with Robin later in the episode shows his anger and frustration come to a head, to the point where he, for a moment, intends to kill Robin. Allan’s inability to take any blame upon himself forces him to direct his anger onto others. Luckily for him, this passes quickly, and he tries to reconnect with other members of the gang but fails to do so. He is then forced to resign himself to working for Guy at the castle, on a side he ever intended to permanently be on. He is very much at fault for his actions, but the decisions made by Robin and Robin’s influence on other members of the gang (by not letting Allan tell them his side of the story) worsen his situation to lead to his permanent working for Gisborne. His actions at times seem spiteful, at others desperate, and the impact other people have on him directly motivate many of his decisions – but at his worst, he has the full agency to make terrible decisions of his own accord.

Thanks so much for reading if you made it this far, I hope you enjoyed my take! I’ve loved writing this duo pf essays of character exploration, they’ve truly helped me to understand Allan’s reasoning further. If you’ve anything to add, please don’t hesitate to! Your response to my 2x05 analysis was so kind and I’m genuinely honoured to be part of such a wonderful fandom.

[tuiyla]

She-Ra’s like, really good, people

It’s been over a week since She-Ra season 5 came out and I binged it and this is not going to be coherent but I just want to rant about it a bit before writing some more structured metas. I deffo wanna write about Catradora and how I think SPoP is the true spiritual successor to the Avatar.

But first, let me just scream about how good this show is. I already started rewatching it, pretty much straight after finishing it, and I don’t rewatch tv shows often. The exception is Avatar (seen it like 15 times) and sitcoms. But She-Ra is so layered that I felt like I needed to watch it again just to appreciate the dynamics even more.

I already enjoyed the first season but it kept getting better and better. I’m not in love with the art style and it’s definitely for a younger demographic overall than my other favourite animated shows, but like any good kids’ show it balances tone well. It doesn’t talk down to its target demographic but also includes more traditionally mature themes in a digestible and entertaining way. Not all the jokes landed for me but as the series went on I learned to appreciate the tone and the type of humour She-Ra goes for.

It’s funny to me because this is definitely the type of show I would have rejected as a kid, with all the princesses I would have deemed it “too girly” and therefore not for me because screw gender roles. There’s a degree of internalized sexism to that, for sure, a rejection of the feminine because it’s always been seen as less somehow. But there’s also a truth that, at least in my childhood of the late 90s and early 00s, children’s media targeted at girls often had a poor quality to it, at least when compared to “boys’ stuff”.

She-Ra is not only a clever, heartfelt, complex story, it also transcends that binary of having to be either for girls or boys. I know most of modern animation rejects that as well, but She-Ra embraces so many traditionally feminine qualities while also going beyond gender roles and even the gender binary. This show is so queer, man, and I love it. It’s especially impressive when you consider the source material that was literally just the girly version of He-Man. I have no beef with 80s She-Ra, haven’t seen much of it, but this is such an upgrade.

That being said, I would have loved to watch She-Ra as a kid. I’m so incredibly envious of kids, aged around 10, who get to watch this show as they’re growing up. But I am so, so, so happy for them and for the future of animation that shows like She-Ra can be made now, that they’re being made. I’m going to go into spoilers soon, but just before that: She-Ra’s a perfectly enjoyable show in many aspects. I think the worldbuilding’s pretty cool, the story feels coherent and planned out, it’s lighthearted and so genuine. That’s the word that I ultimately choose to describe the series: genuine.

I feel like so much of TV aims to be dark and gritty nowadays, animation included, and though that’s slowly turning to dark comedy or a balance between fun and serious, it’s still the norm. At some point in the last decade, creators became terrified of being judged as cheesy. Even something like the MCU bathes in bathos to avoid being cheesy. But She-Ra proves that creators shouldn’t be afraid of being genuine, of basing characters and storylines on the simple power of love. Like, it’s such a cliché trope but I think that’s mostly because it has become stale.

Noelle Stevenson has talked about the importance of love in her story and I’m so grateful for that. Through, She-Ra, she’s truly proven how powerful love can be in a story and how it doesn’t have to be cheesy. It’s just so unabashedly genuine. The power of love and friendship literally saves the day several times but it’s always so genuine and more importantly it always makes sense that it doesn’t get boring. If the foundation wasn’t there, then I’d say “well this is just super cheesy”. But the show makes a point of building relationships and making them the focal point of the story.

Alright, so, spoilers because I need to talk about character arcs and THAT KISS and just everything. I really need to write more in depth about Adora and Catra and their relationship but for now I feel like it’s so important to appreciate how they’re developed. Everything from their shared childhood to their trauma with Shadow Weaver and the finding their way back to each other, it’s just *chef’s kiss*. It’s so well-written and believable. Ngl, I do have some minor issues with Catra’s redemption arc. Let’s just say that on a scale from Kylo Ren to Zuko, she’s definitely closer to Zuko. I also appreciate Shadow Weaver’s death scene and how it allows them to move on. I didn’t see that one as Death as Redemption and it shouldn’t be. Again and again the show made it clear that she was abuse towards both girls and nothing will negate that.

From what I can tell, the fandom really latched onto Catra, even when it wasn’t clear whether she’d get a redemption arc. I think that’s important, because unlike some characters in animation, Catra’s actions were almost always framed appropriately. There was always an understanding as to where she’s coming from, how she’s acting from a place of hurt, and yet her actions weren’t justified. They weren’t suddenly all okay just because she’s hurt, too. I especially loved in the season 3 finale when Adora was allowed to finally say no, to say that Catra’s actions were not her fault. That season as a whole was beautiful, like, episode three when Adora’s struggling so much and Catra has the opportunity for a better life but she still fails to choose her own happiness because she’s too bitter over SW and Adora? It’s poetic cinema. I love that angst, so well done.

It would be so easy to misfire in Catra’s storyline and either a) write off all the awful things she does because she’s just “misunderstood” or b) irredeemably stuck in her abusive environment with no hope of escape. They balanced quite well there and managed to handle such a complex character with delicacy. I’m quite happy with how Catra was portrayed because on the one hand, she’s painfully relatable to me and I assume to many others. The audience can see their own mistakes reflected in her character because we’ve all been too stubborn, done things out of spite, refused to acknowledge that we were wrong because we were hurting so much. At the same time, I always felt like the show gave me enough space to judge Catra’s actions and acknowledge that she was in the wrong. I honestly think I would have been a better adjusted teenager is if saw this show just before my angsty years, lol.

I’m going to write more about Adora at some other point but I love how vulnerable she’s allowed to be. Protagonists never used to be my favourite characters because they all seemed the same, with two major categories: the stereotypical male hero who can do no wrong or the angsty boi who can be shitty and the text still frames him as awesome. It’s only recently with series like The Legend of Korra and She-Ra that I go “damn, protagonists can be like that, huh.” Adora is a dumb jock who tries so hard and she deserves all the hugs in the world.

Also, Catradora? Breathtaking, amazing, groundbreaking. No doubt She-Ra needed shows like Adventure Time, LoK, Steven Universe and the likes to pave the way but still, it went there. I saw people be anxious about whether they were gonna be queerbaited, but I always, idk, knew? Trusted? That She-Ra would follow through. I didn’t wait six years for Bubbline to happen for Catradora to not get their big damn kiss. The series has been so effortlessly queer from the get-go that it just made sense that they were always heading there. I did see a gif of the kiss before watching s5 and ngl, that spoiler kind of bummed me out in a way that I wanted to be surprised. But even before I saw that I wasn’t worried. And the context of their journey in season 5? That cannot be spoiled by a simple gif. You have to experience that to fully appreciate it and that is the marker of good storytelling.

I understand that, though this should be the norm by now, Noelle Stevenson still had to be smart about how she approached the execs and she wasn’t sure this could happen. I cannot tell you how happy I am about what she said regarding how Catradora was so integral to the story that the execs couldn’t not allow it. That’s so brilliant, and it feels so natural in the story. Queer love saves the day and it’s not ambiguous, it cannot be censored because you lose a part of the story without it. You did it, Noelle, you funky little lesbian, what an icon. I can’t wait to see more stuff from her.

In other news, I appreciated other characters as well, like how all the princesses got to be different and awesome in their own unique way. Season 5 was great for so many characters, Mermista got so much to work with and Spinnerella and Netossa got so much more characterization than in previous seasons. Glimmer continued to be the third most important character in the story and I’m happy about all the relationships that also got to be canon. Good characters and dynamics all around, no wonder since the show is built on that.

Such a satisfying conclusion and one that makes you feel like this is just part one of a much bigger story. Such genuine, heartfelt moments, well-developed characters, complex themes explored in a respectful and digestible way, and such an unapologetically fun show. Melissa Fumero as a side character? Yes please. Catra’s new haircut? Heck yeah! She-Ra’s new design? Oh my.

I’m not even like, super into She-Ra, and I usually don’t write so much about things I only watch casually. But this show is so good and important that I had to rant. And I will write more about it eventually, but for now I needed to get all of this out. I’d give it a better structure but if I really get into I might never end up posting it so for now here, have this ramble of love. She-Ra, of all shows, deserves that.

[incoherentbabblings]

Chapters: 1/1 Fandom: Young Justice - All Media Types, Batman - All Media Types, DCU (Comics) Rating: General Audiences Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply Relationships: Stephanie Brown/Tim Drake Characters: Stephanie Brown, Tim Drake, Cassie Sandsmark, Kon-El | Conner Kent Additional Tags: Missing Scene, Kissing, Romance, Established Relationship, Tim Drake is Drake (DCU), Stephanie Brown is Spoiler, Minor Canonical Character(s), Fluff and Humor, Light Angst Summary:

Expanded scene for Young Justice (2019) #15. Tim and Steph finally get to reunite after the team’s reality hopping adventure, and whilst Tim is keen for Stephanie to be (re)introduced to his friends, Stephanie isn’t sure she belongs.

Tim watched as people piled up the big green monsters into one giant pile of unconsciousness. He was standing on top of his pickup truck; the one Stephanie had apparently driven halfway across America without even a scratch to come meet up with him.

Tim watched as she very awkwardly extracted herself from a conversation with Jackson and Derek, not sure what to say or do, and made a beeline towards Tim. He tried to control his expression as she did so. He wasn’t disappointed in her, but he had hoped she would be able to feel comfortable enough around a bunch of strangers to strike up a friendly conversation or two. At the same time, he understood. Afterall, they hadn’t really gotten their reunion yet. At least, not the one that Steph had teased about wanting.

Tim could see her slight nervousness in the way she held her shoulders as she looked up at him, face hidden under her black mask and purple hood.

“We done? No more bad guys to punch?”

Two days they’d said. Two days and they would find each other.

They’d known it was a promise neither could keep, and things had very understandably gotten out of hand, but still, Tim felt like he had disappointed her.

“We’re done.”

He reached down, tugging her up onto the roof of the truck. She didn’t need the help, but he wanted to see how readily she took his arm.

She did so immediately, without hesitation, a light laugh bubbling out as she was heaved upwards. Stephanie was deceptively light, or maybe Tim was deceptively strong. Regardless, he tugged up until she was able to twist onto the roof on her butt. She then pulled herself up to standing to be level with Tim.

She was smiling under her face cover.

“Can I take off my mask, do you think? Do you trust them all?”

“Yes,” he replied immediately. “They’re our friends Steph.”

His heart broke a little that she didn’t quite understand it yet. It was a bit of a white lie, but Tim saw no reason why it could not be the truth. They had left Gotham for many reasons, altered timelines being one of many, but another was simply the desire to go new places, meet new people, and have a life outside of the damn Bat for two weeks.

Finding his friends again, finding that safe space... He wanted Steph to find her own place within it. He had mentioned it to Cassie, Kon and Bart on the rare quiet moment during their interdimensional travels. He didn’t want there to be a hard line between his life in Gotham and life with them. He didn’t see the need. Not anymore.

Needless to say that the three of them took his thoughts very well. Yes, the four of them were finally reunited. Enough with the melodrama; be grateful that they could spend time together once more and stretch it out and milk that time for all it was worth. Remember how easily it was taken away?

Besides, it couldn’t do Steph any harm to have friends too, right? Admittedly she was a bit rough around the edges, as socially awkward as she was genuinely kind, but then again it wasn’t like the team were exactly behaving at peak social norms either. Bart alone was surely testament to that, right?

Steph was ignorant to Tim’s musings and continued their conversation.

“Good. Because,” she sang, pulling down her hood and her full-face mask off. “I need to give you that proper greeting, remember? Can’t wait any longer.”

Tim exhaled at the sight of her smile and long blonde hair, but it collapsed when she leaned in, eyes half shut.

“Wait,” he said, jerking back a little.

“What?” Stephanie asked, voice quiet and sad. Worried at the rejection, she put her hands up to rest on his chest. He flinched as she did so, and she felt like crying. “Oh no… Something happened didn’t it? Is it those memories you got back? Was I horrible in them? Because I’m really sorry if I was. I’m a different person now. Literally or metaphorically I dunno but…Or is it something that happened whilst you were away?”

She spoke with such sincerity despite the farcical nature of the statements, that Tim felt the need to put her out of her misery. He grasped her wrists and then intertwined their fingers when she raised her palm from his chest. He squeezed tight, and he saw her tremble.

“It’s not you. I didn’t keep my promise.”

“What?” Her voice shifted from upset at herself to the situation.

“You needed me. We said two days. And I tried but-but…”

Stephanie pouted at being denied affection for such a trivial reason as – as far as she saw it – losing track of time. Tim was punishing himself in that silly head of his, and by extension, it also felt so to Stephanie. She took a deep breath and mellowed out her tone.

“Stuff happens,” she responded firmly. She was not interested in a debate or Tim’s proclivity for self-flagellation. “I know you didn’t deliberately leave me hanging, so why would I resent it? Impulse mentioned reality hopping…”

Her look became worried as she drew the wrong conclusion. The confidence fled her as quickly as it had come. “Was it bad? Trauma? Where did you go? Is that where you got this outfit from because ooft honey –”

“You gave it to me.”

Stephanie paused, then tugged Tim’s hands round to hold her waist.

“I did what?” she scrunched up her eyes and face cutely, shaking her head like she was trying really hard to remember giving Tim a brown superhero suit without a cape and a yellow bat on the belt buckle. “Is it another missing memory? Because it’s so unfair that you have yours and mine are still wibbly wobbly. I’m actually a little peeved about it to be honest.”

“This costume. It was… we were…”

Like she was speaking to a toddler, she squeezed tight and said, “Start at the start. What happened after you got to Metropolis?”

Tim told her.

It was an oddly long story, and yet simultaneously brief. It was chaotic and frantic, and yet the affection with which Tim relayed the adventure with his friends made her chest warm. When he reached the misdirection of Earth Three, Stephanie’s patient and attentive expression turned a little distraught. She didn’t mind having the title of Batwoman, she didn’t mind being a good guy in a world of not good guys, but there was just the fact that…

“But you said everyone on Earth Three was evil? A flip of this earth’s morality.”

“I thought so. But you weren’t. You were good there too.”

This only served to further confuse Stephanie.

“But… but…but!” she gulped in a large pocket of air. “But that would mean this me is evil! Right? Am I evil? All this time we’ve been worrying about crazy bat you –”

“Ouch.”

“—But what if it’s me? You could have stayed and helped her right? But you didn’t. And she gave you that costume as what? A present? Something to remember her by? Oh, that’s romantic and sad. But what if this means that I’m the ticking time bomb? You could have stayed and made a huge difference, right? You could have… turned that whole place upside down and made it better for everyone. From the sounds of it, I’m sure not evil me would have been down to clown... Which, great. Now I’m gonna spend my days thinking that me getting the wrong Starbucks order is going to be my start of darkness or something equally stupid. Your friends will think I’m a lunatic...”

Her eyes darted backwards, looking at the team, chatting and oblivious. Superboy was sitting off to the side, quietly watching as everyone wrapped up their work, Wondergirl and Arrowette were catching up, whilst Impulse spoke to Jinny and Naomi. Stephanie felt abruptly ashamed and as a result shifted, almost trying to hide herself behind Tim.

With a firmness and certainty that reflected Stephanie when she had rebuked his earlier guilt, Tim pressed her cheeks together to make her face scrunch up in a pout

“You… are not evil. You never will be if I have any say in the matter. Think you’re about the least capable of it in Gotham, if not in the world. You pulled me back last month from the brink of being a monster. I’d say I’d do the same for you, but I’ll never have to. You’re not stained by the dark.”

She blinked owlishly. Tim was not often that grand and romantic (though he could be histrionic), so it made her blush to be spoken of so highly. Still, her nagging concern, an uncomfortable tightness in the pit of her belly, remained.

“You could have stayed there,” she insisted. She was holding onto the fact that Tim had returned wearing a costume and a name which had been gifted to him on another earth. A name from his alternate self and a costume from an alternate her. There was something to be dissected there right? What would a psychologist make of that tangle of identity and interpersonal relationships?

He had returned from an earth where motives were selfish, and heroes were rare. He had returned wearing a name that was simultaneously his and yet not, wearing a costume that was not hers to grant. Tim wanted more than anything to make a difference. That world was ripe for his ambition.

Tim did not even seem concerned at such a concept. For once, it seemed he had not even given the matter much thought.

“Sure. Maybe I could have stayed. She would have been happy if I had. That Stephanie didn’t have anyone to help her. She…I think she was very lonely.”

Steph sighed shakily, and Tim held her closer. He knocked his forehead against hers, and her grip went up to cradle his face. They kissed, and Tim heard and felt Stephanie’s right foot pop up.

Finally granted the kiss she had been craving for hours, Tim swallowed the sound of her whimper. Not even remotely ashamed of who could be watching, Stephanie deepened the kiss and moved closer, curving her body against Tim as she tugged at his neck, encouraging him to make it harder.

It had been too long, and Stephanie was sure she was developing a complex regarding Tim, like if she took her eyes off him for three seconds he would – for the third time in a year – be zipped off to another dimension. It was almost funny how much the two of them could apparently not stay joint at the hip as they desired, and Stephanie suspected she may have started developing some bizarre attachment disorder as a result.

Although, it was worth it for moments when they kissed like this. When Tim allowed himself to feel like a seventeen-year-old. Kissing felt good. Kissing Stephanie felt great. She always tasted of cinnamon gum and liked to hold his cheek and tug his hair and she made cute squeaks when he –

No, he couldn’t get too carried away.

Tim ended the kiss with a most content sigh, like his worries had been laid to rest forever (which was false and a lie, but he indulged in it for now), and kept his eyes shut.

“I came back,” he whispered, keeping his forehead on hers and missing how Stephanie looked a little cross eyed from the kiss. “Because I had to get home to you. I promised, even if I couldn’t keep to two days. I had to come home.”

“To me,” Stephanie breathed. Looking at him reverently, she cradled his chin and kissed him again.

“To you,” Tim confirmed. “I missed you, Steph.”

She tugged him closer, making him rest his forehead against her shoulder as she buried a hand in his hair.

“Missed you too, boy wonder.”

They embraced for a moment too long, then Tim pulled back a little to speak into her ear.

“Come on. I’ll introduce you to everyone. Properly. I’m sure Bart did a rush job of it. They already know you, which isn’t fair. You should get to know them again.”

He very distinctly felt her tremble. Fighting monsters, fine. Facing her dad down, fine. Meeting her boyfriend’s friends? Terrifying.

Tim hopped down off the truck, but held out his arms, fully intent on catching her. Stephanie looked around once more. It seemed Wondergirl and Naomi were wandering over to the truck, so she swallowed her fear. She leapt off the car, straight into Tim’s arms. He caught her easily and spun her around twice, making her laugh sharply, until using the momentum he flung her up and off. She landed on her feet with a delighted shriek, and it was with that smile on her face that Cassie reached them.

To Stephanie’s surprise and delight, she was enveloped in a warm hug.

“It’s so nice to see you again. Both of you,” Cassie said. Chin resting on Stephanie’s caped shoulder, Cassie saw Tim’s look of relief and gratitude. “You guys will stick around a bit?” she insisted, raising her eyebrows in a gentle chide.

Stephanie choked on her reply, not sure how to react. Behind her, Tim grimaced. Why was she so reluctant around his friends? Was it because she didn’t want to know them, or because she didn’t feel she had the right too?

“I… I want to,” she said, Tim watching her struggle. “But-but my dad…”

Stephanie looked over her shoulder at Tim for guidance, and Cassie broke out the hug. Seeing Stephanie’s hand reach back, Tim took it tightly. He could see in her face no disdain or dislike, just insecurity and the realisation that she didn’t know how best to say her father was a pressing issue without seeming like a haughty holier than thou girlfriend.

Paradoxically, Tim relaxed. That angle was much easier to deal with. It simply was that Stephanie was nervous, and unsure of what her place was in the team. They had their memories of each other back. She held no such memories. She felt locked out, and undeserving.

How to make her understand…

“We have one loose end to tie up at our end,” Tim explained. Playing with Steph’s fingers, he had a sudden thought as a solution. “After though, how about the fact that we’re gonna need to see if the place in Rhode Island is still standing? The team should be able to use it again.”

“Huh?”

Cassie chuckled at Steph's confusion, and smiled broadly at the thought of returning to Mount Justice.

“You’ll love it Spoiler. Better than living out the back of a truck, believe me.”

Stephanie seemed bemused, like she had just suspected Cassie of mocking her but also not hearing any genuine insult in the dig at her current living circumstances.

Cassie wasn’t mocking her. She didn’t have a passive aggressive bone in her body and was not capable of being underhand. She was only trying to gently tease, as a friend would do.

Not that Stephanie knew that, but still, Tim’s heart stuttered for her.

Tim kissed Stephanie’s cheek and explained, “It was Young Justice’s home away from home. There’s a whole headquarters up there. An old Justice League site.”

“We appropriated it,” Cassie said. Her eyes were patient and encouraging. Stephanie, meanwhile, still did not understand.

“That’s cool,” she said politely. Tim sighed good naturedly, exasperated at her obtuseness.

“Stephie,” Tim moaned as she burned red from the pet name in front of his friends. He jerked his head at Conner, begging his direct nature to intercede.

“Whu—”

Endlessly patient, Tim stated, “It’s gonna be your home away from home too. If you want it to be. It can be all of ours again.”

She could not reply, as she was then embraced in a bear hug courtesy of Superboy. Cassie smirked, then called for the others to come gather. Tim held onto Stephanie’s fingers, and watched carefully what Conner did and spoke. Tim had seen that melancholy look from earlier as Conner had watched the team.

Tim knew Conner was feeling a little out of place, but he was grateful that he had put it aside to help Tim and welcome Stephanie. Hidden to Stephanie, he mouthed a thank you in Conner’s direction, who responded by wiggling his head in smug satisfaction.

Stephanie remained oblivious, her only thought as she endured the hug was at the blatant display of strength and control that the clone displayed. She grunted when he squeezed the bear hug tighter but found herself smiling all the same. There was only genuine joy and laughter in Conner’s voice as he teased.

“Hey, we finally got the lovebirds in the same room again, huh? It’s been a while, Spoiler, even if Tim says you don’t remember.”

When he set her down, she returned to Tim, holding his hand still. She didn’t understand why Superboy saying such a thing made the pit of nerves in her gut settle, but the warmth that bloomed in her chest made her smile until her cheeks hurt.

“I’m sorry I don’t. Remember, that is.”

Conner shrugged, “Hey, we’re still young. Gotta lifetime to fix that. Or make new memories. Or both.”

Tim’s hand snuck round her waist, and he pressed his cheek to her temple.

“We’ll deal with your dad. Then we’ll go home?”

“Home?” Stephanie asked.

“Second home,” he quantified.

Looking at the friendly faces surrounding the pair of them, Stephanie smiled awkwardly and nodded.

A home away from home sounded…nice.

[nerdforestgirl]

Note:  Ten years since Sheldon and Amy met for the first time?  How time flies when you’re having fun.  I am so thankful for this fandom and for the fact that so many of you are still here even now that Big Bang Theory has been off the air for over a year.  I hope you have a great and fluffy day!  Here is my story for this year’s Fluff Crawlspace.  It’s another Disneyland story because your girl misses the heck out of it.

Sheldon looked over at his wife where she stood in the kitchen making them dinner, and he felt like he never saw her anymore. Sure, they were basically in the same room at that moment, but they didn't spend nearly as much time together now that Amy was back in her lab instead of by his side while they worked on Super Asymmetry. He missed her. He walked over and wrapped his arms around her waist.

“Hey. I love that you are being affectionate, but I need to finish dinner. Can we cuddle later?” Amy asked. She needed to move freely and their tiny kitchenette was far too small to fit both of them easily.

Sheldon felt a little dejected. It felt odd. In order to feel any kind of disappointment or rejection, he would have to admit that he wanted the love and affection to begin with. He just wanted some of Amy's attention and time. They were both just too busy these days. He didn't love it. He wanted one day of just spending time with his wife. He pulled out his phone to text Amy's new assistant, Ezra. The budget opened enough for Amy to hire the young man after the Nobel win. Sheldon had only spoken to him a couple times, but he had his number all the same.

“Hello. This is Dr. Sheldon Cooper. I am Dr. Fowler's husband. Is there a day next week that she is free or could have her schedule rearranged for a surprise day off?” Sheldon asked Ezra. After what happened when Sheldon had Amy's lab assignment taken away to help with their work, he wanted to make sure he wouldn't get in trouble for messing up her work by just taking her out of work for a day.

“She only has one meeting on Wednesday that could be moved to Friday. Should I block off the rest of Wednesday for you, Dr. Cooper?” Ezra wrote back quickly.

“Yes. I will be taking Dr. Fowler out for the whole day. Keep this our secret.”

“Thank you,” Sheldon added after a moment when he remembered that he should be polite. He sighed when he received a smiley face emoji back, but he decided to not follow down that path. It wasn't worth his time.

Sheldon then bought Amy and himself two tickets to Disneyland for Wednesday. They hadn't been in a long time, and it seemed like just the kind of day that they could just enjoy each other's company and some fun.

On Wednesday morning, Sheldon shook Amy awake. He normally let her wake naturally, but they still needed to get to Orange County in morning rush hour.

“What?” Amy asked groggily.

Sheldon put a pair of Mickey Mouse ears on his wife and grinned at her.

“We're going to Disneyland! Come on. Get up,” he said.

“I can't. I have work today. I have a meeting,” Amy said as she rolled back over to try to steal a few more minutes of sleep.

“I had Ezra reschedule it. You are completely free today.”

“Sheldon, you can't just have my assistant reschedule my whole day because you want to go to Disneyland. You have work today too,” Amy said with a sigh. He always just thought about himself.

“But I miss you,” Sheldon admitted. He didn't mean to be that honest with her, but it was probably the best argument he could have made. Amy softened and nodded her head. If her schedule was already cleared, she could take one day off from work. It wouldn't kill her to spend one day at a theme park with Sheldon, and she had to admit that they hadn't been spending enough time together lately.

Amy got dressed in a Disney dress she bought on a whim with Bernadette and the kids. Halley and Michael were surprisingly convincing when they urged her on to buy the dress with Mickey Mouse on it. It wasn't appropriate for work, but it was appropriate for a day of ditching work. Then she put the ears that Sheldon gave her back on top of her head. She was ready to go.

Sheldon looked like Sheldon, but he also had on a blue Mickey Mouse shirt that Amy had never seen before. He looked completely adorable even if he didn't look a thing like a 40 year old Nobel Laureate. It didn't matter. That wasn't the role he was playing today anyway. Today he was playing cute husband ditching work with his cute wife.

“What was the first appearance Mickey Mouse?” Sheldon asked his wife as they played a Disney themed trivia game he made up during the drive to Anaheim. It was a long drive, so of course they had to play some games to pass the time.

“Steamboat Willie,” Amy said confidently. This was a pretty easy question.

“No. It was a silent short called Plane Crazy.  Steamboat Willie was the first short with sound and was distributed first, but Plane Crazy premiered in May of 1928 and was rereleased the next year with sound,” Sheldon told her. It was rare that he knew something she didn't, and unlike if it were anyone else, Sheldon wasn't a jerk when he told Amy this factoid. He just filled her in and asked another question about Beauty and the Beast. Luckily, this time she knew that The Beast was just The Beast in the film and had no other name.

They arrived at the park, and Amy was so glad she let Sheldon talk her into this. He took her hand with the biggest smile on his face. She realized that she missed him just as much as he missed her. They would need to find an excuse to work together again soon.

“What's first?” Amy asked.

“Let's try to get Rise fo the Resistance,” Sheldon said. He hadn't had a chance to ride the newest Star Wars themed ride yet, but he had also heard it was nearly impossible to get a seat on the ride with its soft opening. Still, they would try. They each pulled out their phones to try to get in the virtual line for the ride.

It turned out Amy was Sheldon's lucky charm because they had two seats on the ride that afternoon. In the meantime, there were lots of rides they could go on first.

“Space Mountain?” Sheldon suggested next. It was always a good one to do first because he had an empty stomach instead of one full of too many snacks.

Amy grinned and took Sheldon's hand while they walked to the ride. She was able to tell him about her new project at work while they walked and stood in line. Sheldon listened and asked questions about her work. She knew that he believed that she should quit neuroscience to work with him full time, but her heart and training weren't in physics. Not really.

At they made their way across the park to The Haunted Mansion, Sheldon thought about telling Amy about his own work. Then he decided to tell her about what his Meemaw was up to these days instead. Not everything was about work. Especially on a day when they were ditching it in order to recharge and spend a day together.

“Meemaw won a poker tournament? That's seriously impressive for a 92 year old woman,” Amy said. In the years since they first met, Amy's relationship with Sheldon's grandmother had improved considerably. Amy even kind of liked her now.

“Yes. So now my mother is escorting her to Las Vegas for a weekend for the finals of this tournament. Mom is hoping to cleanse Sin City of all its sin while she is there,” Sheldon told Amy.

“If anyone can do it, it's your mother,” Amy agreed.

Both Sheldon and Amy had their favorite rides, snacks and shows, and they took turns picking things to do. With maybe too much focus on Sheldon's preferences. However, the park wasn't too busy, so they made efficient uses of FastPasses and were able to ride nearly every ride they wanted. While they waited in lines they were able to just talk in a way that they both often felt too busy to do these days.

“I am so glad that you suggested this,” Amy said as she leaned into Sheldon's side while they waited for the fireworks at the end of the night. It was the last thing they were going to do before the drive back to Pasadena.

Sheldon put his arm around Amy and pulled her closer to him. It wasn't like Sheldon had felt like his marriage was in trouble before today, but this day filled some reserve in him that he didn't realize was close to empty. Sheldon just loved Amy so much. He needed her in his life in a way that he had never really needed anyone.

“Me too. We need to do things like this more often, but perhaps scheduled in a way as to not miss work,” he told her. Then he felt the urge to do something with his wife that he had never done before. He leaned down and placed a sweet, gentle kiss on her forehead.

Amy sighed happily and looked up just as the fireworks show began. A perfect end to a perfect day.

[panharmonium]

why are you being like this?

people i’ve met - they’re not like you.  they don’t care.  i don’t matter.

don’t ever think that.  we all matter.

just some meandering thoughts on where the thematic center of merlin bbc lies for me, and how it weaves itself in and out of my fandom experience.

under a cut because this is a) sort of long and b) not really directed anywhere but my own brain, as i keep thinking about and creating for this show.

[as always, before i get rolling, a reminder: when i write about how i engage with this show, it’s just me talking about what gives me, personally, the most satisfaction or enjoyment, not the way i think everybody should do things.  if this isn’t your particular read, please feel free to scroll past.  i am not ever going to bother anybody for engaging with this show in their own way, so please don’t worry about it if we are not on the same page.]

that post about kilgharrah really got me feeling things.  

i struggle a lot with the sort of...non-nuanced ‘fuck kilgharrah/fuck gaius/fuck arthur/fuck whoever’ mode of engagement that i sometimes run across in fandom.  (and i’m not saying there’s anything intrinsically wrong with it; if you have the most fun engaging with the show in that way, please continue to have fun.  i’m just writing, on my own blog and in my own space, about what i personally do or don’t find compelling.)

i struggle with this mode for the same reason that i struggle with the whole ‘fuck yoda!’ narrative that pops up sometimes in tumblr’s star wars fandom.  because it’s not the narrative that the story is actually trying to create, and though this fact doesn’t mean you can’t twist things that way if it gives you more enjoyment, for me, there’s nothing about it that feels good.

writing fictional characters off like this, when the narrative is clearly not asking us to do so, feels...frustratingly false, and externally-imposed, as if characters are being evaluated based on the exacting standards of a universe in which they never lived, in a context where they were never intended to exist.  doing so requires you to willfully ignore what the story is actually trying to say, and it’s fine to go ahead and do that if you want, but for me it strips away so much of what makes the story meaningful.

bbc merlin’s core plotline is about believing in someone’s better nature.  the central storyline is that merlin commits himself to someone who doesn’t always give merlin reason to believe that this commitment is worth it, and yet still there’s always this hope and faith and belief that one day arthur will make it right.  

and this is presented as a worthy choice.  are there problems with it?  of course.  the show knows that, and it gives us places to think about that.  but even with this being the case, the ultimate message of the show is still never that this commitment was useless, worthless, or foolish.  the message of the show is that under the right conditions, people grow.  this show says that when we are given deep love, care, and companionship, we can change for the better.  it says that people, under the right conditions, can learn how to be better than they were before, and that everyone deserves the opportunity to grow into the person they were meant to be.

bbc merlin is not asking us to cancel any of its characters, ever.  that is never the show’s intention.  i won’t try to stop anybody from doing that, if that’s how they have more fun watching the show, but i am still going to contemplate, in my own space, how small that makes the story feel for me.

sometimes i see things like ...‘morgana/gwen/whoever is the only valid character in merlin bbc,’ and i just...first of all, neither of them are perfect, okay, and second of all, it doesn’t MATTER, because that has never been the point of the story.  this story is not asking us to rank characters on a scale of how righteous/unproblematic we think they are.  it’s asking us to CARE about the characters - ALL of the characters - and to root for them (yes, ALL of them), in the fullness of their imperfection.

when i explore the wider fandom, i typically bump up against one of two mindsets.  there’s the shipping mindset, where everybody loves arthur and he’s helplessly in love with merlin.  but i don’t want that mindset (because i don’t ship that pairing), so i look elsewhere.  but the other mindset is an attitude that dislikes arthur, full stop.  and i don’t want that either!

this ‘either/or’ divide is the opposite of what bbc merlin is asking us to do with its characters.  i criticize arthur all the time, but i still don’t think the story is asking me to reject him.  and i don’t WANT to reject him, either - why would i even watch this show, if i didn’t think it was important to see him become who he was meant to be, if i weren’t invested in his growth, if i didn’t ultimately believe in his possibility?  if i didn’t think the show was asking me to root for him - not uncritically, of course; the show is never asking me to do that - but with the core understanding that arthur is somebody worth caring about?

the same goes for morgana.  the show never asks us to write her off.  up until the very end, the show wants us to care about her.  the show wants us to root for her.  the show never asks us to forget that she and the other characters used to love each other; it never tells us to stop wanting morgana to get what she needs.  

gaius, too - the show never wants us to kick him to the curb.  it knows he’s not perfect.  he knows he’s not perfect.  he tells merlin, when talking about his own life, “there has, for the most part, been very little purpose to it.”  but the show doesn’t want us to fixate solely on his failures, or to dump him for his more cowardly moments.  the show wants us to know that he still has value.  it wants us to know that he is doing more good in the world now than he did before, which is all we can ask of a person, in the end.  it wants us to know that he cares, and that he is trying.

and kilgharrah - the show is never asking us to hate him, either!  yes, i get that it’s funny to joke about how “unhelpful” he is; i think that stuff is funny, too - but i also think it matters to understand that in canon, in the show, we are not meant to read kilgharrah as a malevolent figure.  we are not supposed to read him as a villain.  we are supposed to care about him.  we are supposed to understand that he, too, is working, ultimately, for the triumph of Good.  even though his version of this may feel convoluted to us, because kilgharrah isn’t human and can’t possibly be evaluated by human standards, we are supposed to understand that he, too, is trying.  we are supposed to be moved when merlin asks him, “what will i do without you?”

we are supposed to care about all of them.  we are supposed to find all of them worthy.  we are not supposed to evaluate them (and then discard them) according to inflexible, merciless, decontextualized standards imported from a non-merlin-bbc world.

and this doesn’t mean people aren’t still allowed to do that, if it’s fun for them, but for me, analyzing this show outside of its context doesn’t bring me any satisfaction.  we can go ahead and say things like ‘arthur should get his head chopped off’ and like, okay, that’s funny as a joke.  but as an actual analysis of the show - as a sincere interpretation of the story - it fails.  it’s devoid of all context.  we aren’t supposed to be evaluating this story from the perspective of ‘let’s overthrow the monarchy, kings should die, etc etc.’  the context of merlin bbc is that albion is waiting for a righteous monarch, and that this is a desirable, acceptable, correct thing, in the context of that world.  we are supposed to understand that arthur IS the once and future king, and that this IS a good thing, in this universe, and that the journey we are on here is one where he becomes worthy of his seat on the throne and then ushers in a time of peace and justice for all of albion’s people.

(and as i’ve said before - this is why the merlin bbc finale is so stunningly bad.  it’s not that the show subverts our expectations, it’s that it annihilates its own story, which it has been consistently telling for sixty-three episodes.)

that aside, though - this same overlooking of contextual nuance is the reason why i don’t connect to takes that consider ‘oh no, merlin kills people!’ to be evidence that he’s “changed,” “gone dark,” or “lost his soul.”  merlin does go through a dramatic (and tragic) change by the time we hit season 5, but what happens to him has nothing to do with the fact that he’s killed people.  the context of this show isn’t one where killing is a universal evil.  killing in battle or for the purpose of self-defense is not a morally problematic choice, in this world.  merlin, like everyone else in this show’s context, understands this, and killing a group of enemy soldiers to protect his own life is not something the show intends for us to interpret as an erosion of his humanity. 

what IS framed as an evil act, in the context of merlin bbc, is when someone chooses to kill despite the fact that mercy is an option.  if arthur had killed odin when he could have instead made peace with him, if arthur had executed annis’s champion or vivian’s father when he had already defeated them in single combat, if merlin had killed kilgharrah whilst having absolute power over him - those are morally bankrupt choices, in merlin bbc’s context.

we’re not supposed to see things like merlin killing agravaine as evil decisions.  in the context of the show’s world, killing agravaine is a necessary, morally uncomplicated act.  it isn’t something merlin wants to do, certainly, and he tries to avoid it, and he doesn’t strike back until agravaine tries to kill him first, but ultimately this moment is not supposed to be illustrative of merlin turning down a dark path.  it’s grim, sure, but in the context of the show - in the context of the era - it’s nothing more than the justified wages of aggression.  agravaine brings this fate down upon his own head.  merlin is not a pacifist, and neither he nor anyone else would expect himself to just stand there and let a group of enemy soldiers murder him when he could instead kill the soldiers and get away.  that’s nonsensical and utterly decontextualized.  it’s not an expectation that anyone in-story would have, nor a standard that merlin (or anyone else) would hold himself to.

all that aside, though -

the issue, for me, in summary, is just that i think sometimes we...evaluate this show in ways that it really isn’t meant to be interpreted, without considering the story’s context or thinking about what the story’s actual intent is.  and i think that these decontextualized interpretations are often less generous than what the show is actually trying to say to us, and that sometimes we write characters off when the show absolutely is not asking us to do that.  

and of course, nobody has to listen to what the show is trying to say if they don’t want to.  if it brings someone more enjoyment to pick one character to stan and say ‘the rest of these characters are Bad People and i’m not interested in them,’ then that’s fine!  whatever floats your boat.  

it just doesn’t float mine.

the point of this show, for me, is that everybody deserves a chance.  the point of this show is exactly what merlin says to daegal in the woods, even as daegal is leading merlin into a trap: we all matter.  the theme at the heart of this story is that it is possible to love someone who doesn’t deserve it, and that this can be a worthy choice, a transformative choice, a powerful choice - not necessarily a perfect choice, or even the right choice, maybe, for the person making it, but still a choice that holds value, a choice that creates something good in this world, even at cost.

listen to me, clotpole.  i don't care if you die, there are plenty of other princes.  you're not the only pompous, supercilious, condescending, royal imbecile i could work for; the world is full of them.  but I'm going to give you one more chance.

should merlin have done that?

we can debate that forever.  i am critical enough of arthur pendragon myself, when it comes to merlin’s well-being, and i could easily argue that no, merlin shouldn’t have given arthur as many chances as he did; he shouldn’t have stuck around; he shouldn’t have offered so much of his life to someone who continued to make arthur’s kind of mistakes.

but i think it matters to remember that in canon, thematically, the story’s answer to this question is yes.  mercy, in this story, is the most noble gift a person can bestow on someone else, and i think we are asked to bestow this same kind of mercy on the show’s characters, heroes and villains alike.  we aren’t ever told, in this show, that some of these characters “weren’t good enough” to deserve their chances.  we are told that in this world, compassion is always worthwhile.  love is never wasteful.  it is never foolish to care for people, even and especially when they aren’t yet their best selves.  giving someone a chance does matter.  choosing to care does make a difference, in the end.  

people don’t have to import these themes into their own personal analysis, by any means.  but i am still committed to remembering, in my own work, in my own space, that when we raise the question “was it worth it” in reference to whether these characters truly deserved to be loved, or trusted, or given a chance to grow - the story’s answer is unequivocally yes.