#and I see a lot of myself in her. albeit. like. since there’s no therapy she’s just deteriorated

[pepperpixel]

Yadda yadda yadda jinx is generally seen as a loose canon, does whatever she wants type of character, totally unpredictable. When in actuality, up until the last few episodes all of her choices and actions r motivated by wanting to please someone else. Hell. Even in the last couple episodes, the very Last thing we see her doing is ENTIRELY MOTIVATED by devotion and love and grief for silco, she’s taking out her frustration at herself and the world, and also honoring his wishes and dreams. By shooting a fucking bomb at piltover, she’s ensuring his life wasn’t in vain, she’s honoring him. In that moment

Her entire, self!!! is centered around love and loyalty. Is centered around other people, She’s motivated by an insatiable urge to prove herself, to be useful to those she loves, to show that she can help them and be there for them and be WORTHY of there love. That they haven’t made a mistake in loving her. To prove that she can be as pivotal to them as they r for her. She goes to the ends of the fucking earth to do this. And it ends. Terribly.

She puts the people she loves on pedestals and supplicates at there feet, she has no motivations most of the show outside of making the people she loves happy… she yearns for connection and love and safety. For a home that will never leave her behind, or crumble under her feet, (an indestructible home, That she can’t destroy just by being her…)

Which is why.. it’s so. Interesting and intriguing. How now, she has no one on that pedestal to worship, no one to drag sacrifices and offerings to the feet of, no one to spiral around and build herself off of. She is a person so *affected* by her relationships w others, but there is no relationship now, no one is stepping up to the plate to love her. She’s too much. For anyone. The one person who seemed to have unlimited patience for her is dead, because of her. and maybe vi could still love her.. but. She’s already soured that relationship. Already broken that one too. Broken all her favorite toys that made her so happy. That were there for her. And scared all the rest away. (There is a limit to what vi can support and forgive to reconnect w her sister. And I believe terrorism is crossing that limit ghgh)

And maybe, jinx is cutting that part of herself out on purpose. To be stronger, she’s realized she just. Isn’t made for love. That she ruins it all in the end. That it just makes everything worse. Messier. More complicated. She’s better off on her own, but for what PURPOSE! Who will she be now! What choices will she make!?! Almost all of her actions in the show were for others, what is driving her now, now that she has this gaping void at the center of her being. Where love used to be… what kind of person will she become, Without a guide to follow… a sun to orbit around. it’s sad honestly ghghg-!!! like yeah it’s not healthy that she is this way but there’s no THERAPY IN ARCANE. THIS IS THE WAY SHE IS! And now. She’s alone… it’s rough. But also intriguing…!! And I honestly have no clue how she’s gonna act in season 2,,, or what sorta shit she’s gonna get up to. but I’m excited.

[modestcatholiclife]

Small Steps Towards Big Goals

This week has been a mixed bag. I've been able to mostly keep to my dairy fast. Getting to finally have cheese again was such a rewarding experience. My fiance made me gnocchi, a perfect Lent meal that I had never had before and I enjoyed it immensely. I'll have to learn to make it myself for him one day. I also bought dairy free butter to allow me to at least have toast, one of my staples for this past week. But let's move on from food.

I finally finished my skirt on Tuesday. I had begun making it several months ago and had finished most of it by Christmas Day so I was able to wear it then but it took me until Tuesday to finish off the last section. It still needs a good iron and it's not the most skillful work ever done but it's only my second ever sewing project so I'm going to go easy on myself.

Wednesday was by far one of my most fun days. My friend and her brother took me to a carpark so I could learn to drive for the first time! I was there for about two hours, mainly going around this carpark over and over again but was eventually able to drive up the road and go around the roundabout. I feel very proud of myself for taking that first step but am still somewhat apprehensive for my next time driving. Towards the end of my two hours, one of the tyres hit something and had to be changed over. We were fine, it didn't affect the drive at all. Just created a bump in the tyre is all.

On Thursday, our Catholic young adult group started back up. I may have mentioned before but this year, I want to try and be more sociable at this group and become better friends with everyone. I was able to have a good conversation with a couple of people that I think I'll have the best chance of developing a friendship outside of the group with.

Towards the end of this week is where things became a little more sour. Five Uber Eats transactions that I didn't make showed up in my bank account, all from Thursday during a one hour window in the afternoon. I didn't see them until I began work on Friday. They added up to $82. I reported the transactions to my bank and then filled out a form on the Uber Eats website the next day. Fortunately, they are planning to refund the charges. Two of the charges have since disappeared and the other three are still pending so I'll just have to wait and see what happens.

Sunday came with a beautiful Divine Liturgy, as it should. The priest that came down to say the Liturgy is the one organising my Catechism. He brought with him a book for me: Christian Initiation of Children. It's a book all about baptising children. Obviously I'm not a child, but it still has a lot of good information on why we baptise, what will happen during my baptism, the role of sponsors, and how to prepare for my baptism. And the parts that pertain purely to infant and child baptism, as our priest said, will be useful to my fiance and I in the married life. It's a beautiful book, filled with prayers for conception, pregnancy, before and after childbirth, and for new mothers and fathers. I'd like to add some of those prayers to my intercessory prayers for my friend who herself is pregnant. The book is also presented in both English and Ukrainian, which will be useful for language learning. I've already picked up on the word for baptism (Хрещення). I've been told to read it with my fiance and we've already started it. I'm eager to continue. I've started reading the youth catechism I was given some months ago. I know a bit more than I knew then so it's starting to make more sense to me.

Today has been quite a calming day. I went to a psychology appointment that has left me feeling more comfortable with the direction my life is heading and what I'm focusing on. I also got to see the therapy dog again and was able to get some pictures of her. She's a lovely, albeit sleepy, lady. I've finally brought the bins to the curb. Someone was taking them up each week when we moved in but recently they stopped and our apartment building has gone a few weeks with no bins being emptied so I've taken them up tonight.

Lastly, I ordered some books for my fiance's birthday last month but they still haven't arrived. I had contacted the monastery that printed them last week and have been in contact with one of the nuns. She's all but prepared to print the books again for us, free of charge, but asked to wait two more weeks to make it a full month due to frequent delays in the Australian Post Office. My fiance agreed and wouldn't you know it: tonight, I found a warning in my mail box telling me that I'll need to pick up my package or they'll be returned to sender. All this for a package that I've gotten no update or notice about at all 🙃. Hopefully, it'll be my fiance's books.

Glory to Jesus Christ!

[angelbluediary]

Facing a lot of inner resistance to every aspect of my life again. I wonder when I’ll finally be satisfied with where I am and what my daily life consists of.

The discomfort of living here with my family ebbs and flows. It’s never gone, but it’s easier sometimes, just not now. It’s getting more difficult again. More jagged, more needling.

I can’t stop fantasizing about finding work at the library and leaving the hotel soon. I hate working front desk. I hate standing on my feet for 8 hours straight, performing for 8 hours straight, having nothing to do during that time when I’m not accommodating guests except doodle and stare blankly into space. My writing is limited; if I write the things I’m really thinking about or interested in, I feel paranoid because people and my superiors are constantly buzzing all around me, will all of a sudden materialize over my writings while I’m grabbing the phone. But I can’t let my imagination go and try to lean into fiction or anything overly creative, since I don’t have the space and am yanked back to reality every few seconds when someone passes through or comes to me for help. It’s always busy. I’m always On. And people make me want to shrivel up and bury myself in a little hole.

I’m given no time to eat and I am on red alert every time I have to run to the bathroom or help a guest upstairs because there’s almost always someone waiting impatiently for me when I get back.

It’s valuable experience and I’m still new. And I’m grateful for it even if I don’t sound like it right now. It’s just really tough on me. And I’m jealous—I met up with Chloe recently for the first time in years, and she’s making way more than I am as a copyeditor. She works from home and cleans up the wording of documents that comes her way, my actual dream job, what I went to school for. !!!

I just need to suck it up for the time being, focus on saving money and looking forward to when I can move out! For the time being, this job is really helping me conquer my social anxiety and launching me back out into the world. I’m meeting a lot of people and getting exposure therapy which is good for me, albeit uncomfortable after all those years of isolation and stagnancy.

I’ll be at work in about an hour. I wish I could spend my “downtime” looking at other jobs and formulating a real game plan but, again, have to be so careful with anything I write and what is left open for others to see (without any warning of suddenly appearing).

Still need to write up my very confusing feelings about Z Weekend, though it’s not really that I’m confused—more like… intrigued and disappointed by the things I learned about myself during those previous few days.

Not going to save up as much as I’d planned because I totally didn’t consider Christmas. Or DoorDash so I can eat at/around work hours. Or the kink convention. But again, grateful that I have the money to actually participate in these things.

What I’d give to be a student again and have so little responsibilities. No debts beyond student loans that still don’t feel real, no press of time encouraging me to settle down soon. Having community and workshops and dressing cute for classes and filling my head with knowledge… there are so many things I wish I could redo, and I fear that’s the Human Condition, that we’ll always be looking backwards where nothing can be changed.

[hel-phoenyx]

I'll have to admit that it has been a while since the last time I saw my mother like this.

Under the eternal day of the Gaikamshigtai lands, where no warrior ever finds solace, we decided to take a break waiting for the next fight in the Tournament for Glory. This year apparently, there is quite a number of good candidates, rumors even go around about the young king of the Kraken Coast as the one who finally has a chance of winning against War herself for the first time since she ascended ; but I pay no attention to those rumors, because I know her strenght better than anyone, having felt it restrain itself in tenderness against my very skin.

Still, I think that if anyone has a chance to go far enough, it will be the woman sitting in front of me. Her hair is greying the more years are passing, and in her right eye a cataract is beginning to form, but she still holds the strenght of her forties, still was able to fend of a full army in a matter of seconds without even using her powers.

We are currently in the middle of the fights to the death, and her next is in a few hours ; All the time needed to catch up. It's just too bad the permanent sun is constantly hurting my eyes. The things a woman would do for love.

"Ugh, I complain for the third time in the hour. How I hate the light of that unwavering sun. It's way too hot to fight."

Queen Lina the Ist Frosilaen gives me a sly smile before downing her third serpents' liquor. As always, she's unscathed by even the strongest of alcohols.

"Maybe you shouldn't have put on that black velvet dress then, girl."

"Mom, I am in my sixties. Stop calling me girl."

"And I am in my eighties, sweetheart, argument invalid."

She laughs, albeit a little bitter. I let it slide. I don't think I ever heard her laugh genuinely.

"But black velvet dress or not you'll complain anyway will you ?"

"Better complain than keep silent."

"Right. I'm happy speech therapy allowed you to break my ears with nagging," she said with a hint of sarcasm. "But next time, at least, bring an umbrella. And please, not the boney one. It's scaring your own faithful."

I roll my eyes. My faithful are used to it. The mandatians, anyway, I'll have to admit some of the clerics here still are not used to my bone set, the meltdowns that still happen when the sun is too hot or the noise too strong, my inability to talk in front of a lot of people when Moon isn't there, or my unfocused eyes. But I am Greater Archbishop for Moon's sake, they can get used to it.

Mother finishes her drink, before looking around the tavern.

"Where's Moon, anyway ?"

"Chasing interesting people. You know how they are. and you know, since we got king Kaizarz the Ist among the candidates..."

"Oh right ! I've been dying to test myself against that young bastard. Rumored to be the one who will kill Faloi and shit. Heh. Maybe he will, childlike that he is. Will get a thorn out of my side for sure."

I frown.

"Won't Lamia be unhappy about that ?"

"She will, but it's really not a matter of alliances or for the good of the divine Mandate," sighed mom while playing with her ring. "It's really just personal opinion."

Like always with cousin Faloi. I never got why exactly, but to be honest, I stopped being interested in the affairs of the Divine Mandate after Moon made me reorganize their church from scratch and put me at its lead. Religion has no place in state matter, neither personal ones.

I hear some noises at the entrance of the tavern, and before mom has any time to look, two people make their appearances. A blonde giant with a ruby-encreusted sword on his back, and a eerily beautiful woman behind a veil. Both are no older than twenty-one, I'm sure of it, even if I can't see much through the veil and the scales on the man's face make it harder to guess his real species.

They have a certain presence among them, the kind even mom, used to the biggest of this world, notices. She turns her head towards them, and watches as they take a place somewhere with beers without even noticing us.

"Well those are interesting people. See them, Selene ?"

I smile.

"Oh, they are my favorites here. I noticed them when Kaizarz and his guard came to the arena. The boy is a sorcerer strong enough to bring thunderstorms in the Eternal Day, and the girl has a weird magic within her. Strangely, only she participates to the tournament, and has been eliminated in the qualifications anyway."

"Too bad, I wanted to fight both, they look like compelling foes. But you didn't noticed them for their fighting abilities, did you ?"

As always, mom knows me too well, and her smile is a reflection of my own, sly and teasing. I wink softly, before turning my eyes towards the two youngsters that are now talking without even paying attention to the world.

"Lord Moon no. Only one glance is enough to see these two have a complicated relationship with a certain Kraken King. I've been watching them for some time and the dynamic is fascinating. If I didn't know any better, it would look like a weird love triangle. A real one."

"Ah, how it brings me to my youth, said mom with a smile. Monarchs and their convoluted relationships before they realise they can basically do whatever they want with enough notoriety."

"How much time did you take before marrying Chiara ?"

"Hey now, no sassing me, girl."

"Continue calling me girl and I'll never stop."

[taylors-writing]

The Unwelcome Tenant

In the summer of 1999, an unwelcome tenant was removed from my mind. Its name was likely meningioma, but we know it was a tumor of some kind. It wreaked havoc on my body, causing seizures around a year before being evicted.

              Upon its eviction, it stole some things from me-my memory, my social skills, my motor skills, and my speech abilities. While the door was open for the tenant to leave, more unwelcome tenants entered in, but they wouldn’t say their names. A lot of my memory, social skills, motor skills, and speech abilities were returned to me-albeit not as good as before, but still usable. My new tenants seemed to be there to stay though, and it was determined their names were depression and anxiety. Many doctors, therapists, my family, and myself tried to evict them, but our efforts were futile. The therapists said if I worked hard and followed their instructions, I would have more control over my tenants. I tried to follow their instructions and my family encouraged me to do so too. Despite this, my tenants were still in full control.

              Next came the medications. I started out with one pill. That gave my tenants a little less power, but they were still in control, so more pills were introduced. The doctors experimented with multiple different medications at multiple different doses, all while my tenants remained in total control. Although I am the landlord, my tenants continued gaining power over me. They left scars on my body and even tried to kill me four times. In 2015, they kept me awake for days on end and told me I must die, leaving me terrified. I was sent to the hospital in order to be kept alive. It was then that the doctors began to question the names of my tenant, after seeing me cry, yell, and hit my head off the wall in desperation and then refuse to look at them when they were in the room because I was ashamed of myself for being seen like that. They studied my tenants, trying to learn their names. They said “possible autism spectrum disorder,” BPD, bipolar disorder, avoidant personality disorder, and insomnia, among many others I can’t remember the names of now. I studied them all but still believed my tenants displayed the most traits of depression, anxiety, and maybe autism, but they’re good maskers of that.

              Then again in 2017, my tenants wanted to kill me. This time in the hospital, the doctors quickly concluded that my tenant was named BPD. I didn’t agree and asked my doctor how he determined that diagnosis, to which he said I was suicidal and had a history of self-harm. Apparently in inpatient settings, suicide attempts or suicidal ideation and self-harm lead doctors to the conclusion of BPD without doing any investigation. He was certain I had it, but he gave me a questionnaire to complete since I had nothing to do anyway. To his surprise when he read my answers, he said they indicated depression and anxiety, but I didn’t meet the criteria for BPD. My meds were changed again to help me regain some power over my tenants and I went through more therapy, but the situation didn’t change.

              In 2018, my tenants didn’t just threaten to kill me; they almost did. At the ER, they didn’t know how to treat me. They had to call poison control. The doctor did an EKG and told me that my heart could stop at any time. I had severe electrolyte imbalances and was kept in IMC before being transferred to the psych ward. The process of med changes and therapy was repeated until the tenants said they were going to kill me again and I was sent back to the hospital in 2019. My grandma died while I was there, and I wasn’t released to go to her funeral. I was devastated, but this time the med change and therapy worked so well that I even got through that. I have had other losses since then and while I have struggled coping with them, I have managed not to be put back in the hospital.

              I am still doing relatively well coping with my depression and anxiety, but I recently started having other symptoms, such as olfactory hallucinations, headaches, difficulty thinking of words, and fatigue that is worse than usual. An MRI and CT were performed, trying to capture an image of my tenants, but the only thing seen was the scar from the tumor’s eviction. My neurologist then did an EEG, which captured a very brief, obscure image of my tenant, that even myself and the tech who ran the EEG did not see. He said that my tenant’s name is TLE and lives deep inside my brain, so that’s why its name has been so hard to conceive.

              TLE is evil. It disguises itself as different things with the intent to deceive. It has debilitated me at times, when the doctors insisted I was making no effort to recover and they even recommended ECT. It stole my ability to drive and work for some time as meds were adjusted. I did not give up though. I fought to gain control and I will continue to fight. TLE is exhausting, scary, funny, isolating, confusing, and embarrassing. I try to find the humor in it. Sometimes I can laugh at myself when I forget a word or do something like when I scanned everything at the checkout at Walmart but forgot to pay. I can laugh about the time I found my shoe in the fridge or the strange dreams. Other times though, it’s scary, not knowing if I will completely lose awareness or have a generalized seizure one of these days. Sometimes I get scared because I feel like something is going to happen, but I don’t know when it will be. Then I’m ashamed of myself for feeling that way because a lot of people with epilepsy have it worse than me. At times like this, I need someone to talk to-not a bunch of people in my face asking me what month and year it is, where I’m at, or who the president is, but someone who I can tell what happened and what I’m feeling. Any time I try to bring it up though, even if the person asks me about it, they quickly change the subject. I am strong, but I can’t be strong 24/7/365. Sometimes I need someone there for me. After all, I’m only human.

[psycholojosh]

The Unwritten Part of Clinical Psych Training

Almost over two months ago, I went out spontaneously with my two good friends in MA - Mikka (she/her) and Magsi (he/him). We drove up to Antipolo one night and ate dinner with booze at Padi's Point while enjoying the lovely view overlooking Metro Manila under a clear night sky. It was spectacular! The last time we all got together in-person was before the pandemic. Since then, we just had online Zoom calls and our Telegram group chat. But, there we were in the flesh, happy to be in each other's company once again.

A significant part of one of our conversations was -- of course -- how we were all doing in our master's journey. Magsi, since the pandemic, had finally switched full-time in studying, whereas Mikka and I still had to work for a living. But all the same, we all felt like we were in the climax of our clinical training: Learning several tough pills to swallow.

The biggest 'pill' we talked about was about us. Part of the journey to become a psychologist is to do a lot of introspection and deep diving to get to know who you are as a person, before anything else. We have to know our strengths and weaknesses, and how we can improve ourselves in managing them. Paraphrasing Lori Gottlieb (a US-based psychotherapist and author), the essence of being a therapist is to lead clients in embracing vulnerability and accountability. And the amazing and scary part here is that there is no class for that -- at least, not in technicality. In fact, all classes integrate some form of reflective practice that makes us ask the difficult questions about ourselves. One of mine thus far, for example, was a question of my worth and intellect. While I did pride myself to be a nerd at best, I've had professors who taught me how to criticize that part of me and see when it serves its purpose and when it doesn't. I had many difficult conversations with myself, my loved ones, and even my professors about this. And ever since these discussions, I've noticed changes in the way I think, speak, act, or even feel.

But it goes without saying: Scrutinizing yourself is very painful. Sometimes, it can be emotionally excruciating because, well... we are our own worst therapists. We could be so harsh on ourselves that we forget that the real challenge is to not to devalue our dignity but to understand it in a realistic point of view. It's like you're breaking yourself into a million pieces to find the gems and coals underneath only to put everything back together. The good, bad, or neutral pieces of ourselves are what makes us humans after all. And to tell you the truth, I sincerely think I have only scratched the surface a couple centimeters.

There is courage in knowing things that you realize you dislike about yourself. In the past months being a working student, while juggling many responsibilities in my personal life and relationships, I found that I had so many emotional dysregulation, a lot of anxiety, and a lot of perfectionism. It wasn't healthy, to say the least. The sad part about all this, for me, is that I haven't had the time to seek professional help or guidance to sort things out. While I do think I can still manage, it would've been ideal for me to resume (yes, I've had cycles already before) my therapy.

But that takes a lot of courage too. When you subject yourself to the vulnerability that one feels when one wishes to change, it can get very uncomfortable. I can't remember how many times I've shed tears in my therapy sessions since 2016. But what I've discovered in those heartfelt moments is that I was opportunities for emotional growth and understanding. I can't really say I've perfectly mastered such a "skill", but I think I'm getting there albeit slowly.

When we hashed out these points, Magsi, Mikka, and I had this very satisfied look on our faces -- maybe because of the booze. It wasn't until Mikka's remark that everything sunk in. She said, "Ang hirap, ano? Nasa punto na tayo na tayo na yung nagbabago."

She was right. Kami na yung nagbabago.

But in our comforting smiles and sighs, we knew that we had our personal journeys at that point.

If there's any advice I could give to anyone out there -- regardless if you're in my field or not -- is that to embrace change and growth means to get uncomfortable. To transform is to bravely face the truth that you may leave behind some things that you found to be valuable to you, to discover what else must be carried in your personal journey towards growth. I know these sound so profound, but that's nonetheless true.

I think the magic about that conversation was that we were all sharing that sense of humanity. The three of us (and our friends and classmates) are figuring things out -- especially as "adults", whatever that means. The unspoken part about our road towards becoming clinical psychologists is that we are, after all, our first client. We are our first therapy. We are our first difficulty. But we can also be our first continuing success.

And I think that's something worth pushing forward for.

[jbuffyangel]

The Bermuda Triangle: Arrow 1x13 Review (Betrayal)

Time to deal with this love triangle and all the ways it is awful.

Let’s dig in...

L*uriver vs. Merlance

I frequently say to myself as I rewatch Season 1 that the triangle makes sense in theory. The writers have all the components, albeit clichéd, that should create a love triangle full of juicy drama.

Man wrongs woman in another life thereby destroying any future together

Woman falls for secret identity without realizing it is the same man who hurt her

Man “gives up” woman for her own good 

Man and best friend are in love with the same woman

Best friend changes his ways and becomes the perfect boyfriend

Woman no longer wants best friend and instead lusts for secret identity bad boy

And round and round we go. The problem is this doesn’t really tread any new ground. How many times have we seen this type of love triangle play out? MANY TIMES. Not saying a tried and true trope can’t be repeated, but if you’re going to use it then try to inject some new life into it. 

Arrow stays stubbornly in between the lines on this one, which means there are no real surprises. We know exactly where this is headed. Everyone is just waiting for L*urel to choose Oliver. Hell, even Tommy knows it is coming someday.

This brings us to our second problem. L*urel choosing Oliver is so inevitable it doesn’t require a lot of character growth for either of them. L*urel and Oliver have not dealt with ANY of the issues that caused their demise. Yes, Oliver cheated on L*urel, but there were reasons why he cheated. Those have yet to be discussed. 

We’re supposed to accept that since Oliver is wearing the hood and is out saving the streets as the vigilante then he is “worthy” of L*urel again. We’re supposed to be waiting with baited breath for L*urel to discover Oliver’s secret identity, realize he’s the man in the hood she’s been lusting after, and fall back into his arms where she belongs.

I think not. Don’t get me wrong. I love me a good triangle. I loved The Vampire Diaries. Two brothers in love with the same woman. Interesting. Woman looks exactly like the lost love that destroyed their bond a hundred years earlier? MORE INTERESTING. And kinky. 

I enjoy exploring the varying ways love is expressed in different relationships and what it can reveal about the characters. There isn’t always a right or wrong choice. There’s just a choice and it reflects the kind of love you need to live.

But I understand the complaints about love triangles. Oliver, L*urel and Tommy are the PERFECT validation of those complaints. It’s a tired way to insert some drama that has a completely predictable ending. The even bigger problem is there’s barely enough heat to melt an ice cube. L*uriver is frigid. Merlance is better, but they certainly aren’t an inferno.

“Betrayal” does an excellent job of highlighting all the love triangle problems which plague Season 1. We’re all waiting for L*urel to see that Oliver is a changed man. If only she knew he was The Hood! Her anger and hurt over Sara blinds her ability to see those changes. He needs to wear the mask, so L*urel can see who Oliver truly is. God that sounds good doesn’t it?

 IT’S NOT GOOD.

Sara was a symptom of much bigger problems between L*urel and Oliver. He did not want to be with L*urel, so he blew their relationship up in a fairly spectacular display of self sabotage.

Why doesn’t Oliver want to be with L*urel? Well... welcome to Oliver’s mind. He’s been asking himself that same question for the last five years. If he wanted to be with L*urel then he would have never left town. He would have never cheated on her with Sara. Then Sara would be alive. His father would be alive. EVERY ounce of guilt Oliver Queen carries is connected to that one single choice of leaving L*urel.

So, it’s fairly easy to understand why Oliver thinks being with L*urel will fix everything. If he can fix things with L*urel then he’s truly forgiven. It washes away the sins of the past. It’s like it never happened. At this point, this is what Oliver wants more than ANYTHING. He can’t bring Sara or Robert back. But he can resuscitate his dead relationship with his ex-girlfriend. Close enough. The man isn’t choosey after five years of misery.

Unfortunately, Oliver hasn’t changed at all when it comes to L*urel Lance. Oh I know BUT THE HOOD. Listen y’all, throwing on leather accessories and playing Robin Hood doesn’t equate to relationship therapy. Sorry writers. I need more than crime fighting to believe Oliver can be the perfect boyfriend now.

He continues to make all the same mistakes. OLIVER IS STILL LYING TO L*UREL. He lies to her every day.  He lies when he’s wearing the hood. He lies when he’s not wearing the hood. LIES LIES LIES LIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIESS. Oliver continues to hide who he truly is from L*urel. Different outfit. Same problems.

This brings us to SO. MUCH. MISOGYN. Lance is using the phone The Hood gave L*urel to trap him. Whenever we are looking at betrayal and the Lance family it’s important to grade on a curve. It’s a dirty move on Quentin’s part, but far from the gold medal of betrayals this family achieves.

Source: @laurelsource

Everyone finds out that L*urel is working with the Hood and by everyone I mean Tommy. Quentin follows L*urel with a battalion of police officers to her meeting with The Hood. He’s gathered information on a newly released crime boss, Cyrus Vanch. When Oliver realizes they’ve been busted he holds L*urel by the throat as cover so he can jump off the roof. BuT tHeIr LoVe Is iS hEaLtHy.

Source: @dinahlaurellancesource

As L*urel rants to her current boyfriend (yes I use the word “current” on purpose), he pieces together that she’s been lying to him about working with The Hood.

Source: THEARROWGIFS:

L*urel: He's been lying to me for weeks.

Tommy: Yeah feels like crap doesn't it?

Are we surprised L*urel fails to see the hypocrisy in her little rant?

We are not. This is why Tommy was always the better man for L*urel. He actually had a pair and would call her on her BS. Oliver was incapable of doing until well into Season 2, but I digress.

So, Tommy goes to his best friend Oliver for relationship advice. I know this is a television show, but why in the ever living mother of Zeus do L*urel and Tommy think OLIVER is the best person to ask for relationship advice?

Oliver: Tommy, every time you want to talk to me about something, and that something is L*urel, you look like you’re about to tell me you have some terminal disease.

Me: He does have a terminal disease. It’s called L*URIVER.

Tommy: She’s been working with The Hood guy.

Oliver: What? You’re letting her work with that crazy person? She could get hurt Tommy.

Tommy: I’m not letting her do anything. I only just found out about it.

I know this episode aired in 2012, but talk about some patriarchal bullshit. The entire episode is filled with language like this. Quentin, Oliver, Tommy and The Hood all act like L*urel needs their permission to go to the bathroom. New flash fellas: If L*urel wants to engage in nightly rendezvous with a serial killer that’s her business.

L*urel says something to similar effect, but is summarily blown off by whatever male she’s speaking to. She meets up with The Hood after he and Lance save her from Cyrus Vanch.  

Source: BJ-HUNNICUTTS-BLOG 

It seems The Hood didn’t think through all the ways talking to L*urel on a phone and meeting her secretly on rooftops would put her in danger.

Source: BJ-HUNNICUTTS-BLOG

L*urel: I knew the risks.

The Hood: Now I know them and I’m not willing to take them with you.

L*urel: What does that mean?

It means he wants to bone you, L*urel. Get a clue. 

Holy hell, these conversations make her look stupid. L*urel, do you know a lot of six foot men with similar build and facial hair to Oliver Queen? 

Maybe she would take issue with his infantilizing if she stopped speaking like a three year old whenever The Hood is around. 

Source: LAURELSOURCE

She has this dazed expression too. I know L*urel is so overwhelmed with all the ATTRACTION and LUST that her eyes dilate and the bosom heaves, but I’m starting to think a taser gun is how they forced Katie do scenes with Stephen.

Source: @dinahlaurellancesource 

The point is nobody is all that interested in L*urel’s agency – INCLUDING L*UREL. I understand “secret identity” is a very common trope in hero’s stories, but it never makes any sense to me. Shouldn’t the “true love” be the first person to know who the hero is and not the last? Oliver keeps saying he can’t tell the people he loves who he truly is because it will put them in danger. So, he doesn’t care if Diggle gets killed? His logic makes no sense.  If this was truly about protecting people then why did he need a partner?

And no – you can’t use John can protect himself. We just watched L*urel throw down with that umbrella. She was lethal. 

Source: @dinahlaurellancesource 

Oliver is the king of compartmentalization. He does not know how to merge his two selves yet. He cannot fathom showing Thea, Moira, Tommy and L*urel his darkest self because that means being honest about what happened the five years he was away and what it did to him. That will be a hard pass from our leather clad hero.

My other issue with the love triangle (in addition to all the lying and misogyny) is Oliver comes off like an asshole. He manipulates Tommy with statements like, "L*urel is lying? That doesn't seem like her” and “ have an honest chat with her” like there is something in their relationship causing her to lie or that Tommy is responsible for L*urel’s behavior. He’s slowly pecking away at the Merlance walls until it crumbles. DIRTY POKER OLIVER QUEEN.

But then we arrive at this gross fest:

Tommy: There’s some sort of infatuation thing going on here. We both know that she has a pretty strong track record of being attracted to guys who are dangerous, who break the rules. Show me a more dangerous rule breaker than The Hood.

Oliver: I just think you need to have an honest chat with her. Find out the real reason she’s keep secrets.

Tommy: I just can’t believe that L*urel of all people would lie to my face. I guess that’s the way it is with the people you are closest to.

Oliver: I know, but talk to her anyway. And fix this before it becomes something that’s unfixable.

Did this conversation actually happen?

Does anyone else find it weird that Tommy and Oliver psychoanalyze L*urel’s dating preferences? 

And even weirder they are ACCURATE? 

Credit where credit is due. L*urel likes bad boys right up until they become good boys. Then she’s off to find the next asshole that will lie, cheat and disappoint her. (We could do an entire novel’s worth of L*urel Lance’s toxic dating choices).

Even worse, Tommy concludes she has the hots for The Hood like it’s nothing. Like it’s completely normal and okay behavior. 

Holy hell man! Tommy, maybe L*urel has beaten any self respect into the ground, but IT’S OK TO EXPECT YOUR GIRLFRIEND TO NOT BE INFATUATED WITH OTHER MEN.

What’s really gross is Oliver lies straight to Tommy’s face (no differently than L*urel did) while using the secret identity to engage in inappropriate flirting with his best friend’s girlfriend. He uses the hood to say things to L*urel that he would NEVER say as Oliver Queen. And L*urel never tells The Hood she has a boyfriend or to back off. In fact, she encourages the behavior. THIS. IS. CHEATING. Maybe not physical, but it sure is emotional.

Let’s also never forget L*urel started sleeping with Tommy as a way to stick it to Oliver. She wasn’t expecting to develop real feelings for Tommy, and I do believe she loves him, but that doesn’t erase the toxicity of this cycle that somebody needs to end.

There’s just no good here, my friends. 

Source: @dinahlaurellancesource 

The writers are relying on an empty “they are supposed to be together” promise without providing any evidence why. Neither L*urel nor Oliver has changed in a meaningful way to support giving their relationship another try. The problem between them wasn’t whether or not Oliver fought street crime. The problem was honesty. Between all the lying and just-on-the-line cheating, I’d argue they bring out the worst in each other. Nuclear winter has better chemistry. Need I go on?

Ok. I will.

The only one who has shown any growth is Tommy. This is change L*urel encouraged in Tommy, but then he became dependable and honest, so she started lusting after The Hood. Both Oliver and L*urel are lying to him about a variety of things. With friends like these who needs enemies? 

L*urel is treated like some prize, but is she a prize they really want to win? Neither man is given a reason to love L*urel beyond she’s who they are supposed to want.

Source: @dinahlaurellancesource 

Don’t get me wrong. I am a Merlance shipper, but it is hard to root for their ship at this point. If the writers just left them alone and let them be adorable then it would be fine.

Source: @dinahlaurellancesource 

BUT. THEY. KEEP. INSERTING. OLIVER.

And where is L*urel’s character? We’re thirteen episodes in and she’s too busy flip flopping personalities for me to nail her down to one specifically. For arguments sake, let’s say the hot and cold behavior IS one of her main traits. It only surfaces in relation to Oliver. L*urel flips on him which causes her to flop on Tommy. L*urel’s actions are simply a reaction to Oliver.  That’s not agency. That’s a prop.

Source: @dinahlaurellancesource 

It’s almost like the writers can’t be bothered with more. She’s a justice seeking, self sacrificing attorney who works pro bono. TA DA! Character is complete. Nothing more to see here! 

Well, if that’s the criteria then why isn’t Joanna in the running for hero’s true love? Throw Annie Ilonzeh in a room with Stephen Amell. Let’s see if the chemistry is any better.

The writers haven’t constructed L*urel’s character beyond a hockey puck for Tommy and Oliver to pass to each other until we reach the inevitable conclusion of L*urel “choosing” Oliver. It’s like watching a train speed toward a brick wall. I know the crash is coming, but I’m not apprehensive about it or grotesquely fascinated or even scared. I’m just want out of this Bermuda Triangle.

Quentin and L*urel

The only real interesting facet of L*urel’s character is her relationship with her father. I love the raw pain between them. It is always just under the surface. The writers throw those problems like grenades in their scenes together. Katie isn’t given much to work with, but her best material is always with Paul Blackthorne.

Source: LAURELSOURCE 

Quentin using his daughter as bait was brilliant, but shadey. Super shadey. It also had the unintended consequence of getting her kidnapped by a mob boss. Oops. I sort of love that Quentin had to eat crow and call The Hood for help once he figured out there was a dirty cop feeding Vance information.

L*urel is in a rage after being held hostage by The Hood. (He can use her as a human shield because he loves her. No problems here. Nope nope nope!) Quentin really hoped L*urel would appreciate his fine detective work, but she’s pretty pissed off about all the guns pointed at her. She feels her father has lost his perspective on this particular case.

L*urel: Are you gonna find another criminal? Someone else to blame for mom leaving, for Sara dying, for your drinking?

The gloves come off! Daaaaaamn. The booze? We’re going there? Meow.

I agree Quentin Lance has an addictive personality. He directs his rage and grief into an outlet he can control. Hmm… who else does that?

However, L*urel’s indignation is a little much. She is cavorting with a known criminal. The same criminal her father is investigating. L*urel does nothing to help the investigation and one could argue she impedes the investigation. This is called obstruction of justice, Counselor. L*urel actually commissioned the crime The Hood is perpetrating this week, so she could also be charged as an accessory after the fact. Maybe even aiding and abetting. So, her horror at the police pointing guns at her is somewhat ludicrous. Don’t do the crime if you can’t do the time.

Source: LAURELSOURCE 

L*urel spends much of the episode fighting the rampant patriarchy and misogyny of the men around her by firmly accepting the danger of working with the vigilante.  She is prepared to take those risks. 

Source: LAURELSOURCE 

But then L*urel is appalled the second she’s put in any danger and holds all the men responsible for not keeping her safe.

She can be mad her dad lied to her, but stop clutching the pearls. If L*urel wants to play the vigilante game then she is going to be used as bait and occasionally get kidnapped. That’s what everyone means by danger, girl. You’re either in or you’re out. If you’re in then you don’t get to blame anyone else for danger knocking on your door. Own your choices honey. THY NAME IS AGENCY.

Oliver and Diggle

This is week 323 of Diggle arguing that Moira is guilty as sin and Oliver ignoring the massive pile of evidence supporting that belief. 

Ok, it hasn’t been that many weeks, but it feels like it. Thou Shall Not Question Diggle. He is always right, but Oliver digs his stubborn heels in. So, John offers to drive Moira around for a week and bugs her. As one does.

Oliver: You bugged my mother?

This is how OTA shows their love, Oliver.  Diggle knows Moira is a slippery snake and can wiggle out of any question Oliver asks her. She even burns the copy of the List Felicity gave him after Oliver confronts her with it.  

Moira insists she never associated with the people in Robert’s book and knew it only as a list of people who owed him favors. Oliver believes his mother is trying to protect her children from Walter’s fate.

So, John gets Moira ON TAPE discussing The Undertaking with Malcolm Merlyn and the sabotage of Robert Queen’s boat. 

We’re going to ignore that Moira’s voice is perfectly identifiable, but Merlyn’s is about ten octaves lower. The point is these are information diamonds Diggle unearths and Oliver FINALLY agrees to pay his mother a visit as The Hood.

Flashbacks

The best part of the flashbacks is meeting all the people who helped Oliver Queen become The Hood. 

Source: @olivergifs​

Hello Slade Wilson! He’s a massively important character in Arrow and it is fun to rewatch how he came into Oliver’s life.

Slade and his partner, the man who tortured Oliver, are Australian Intelligence who came to Lian Yu to free Yao Fei. Slade and Yao Fei have been monitoring an air field so they can escape the island, but he cannot take it alone. There is always a reason behind all of Yao Fei’s actions, but it takes Slade a minute to figure out why he sent Oliver.

Slade: You have no skill. No strength. No training. To say you fight like a girl would be a compliment.

I’m equally indignant and amused by that line. Slade doesn’t believe Oliver will be any help to him because well… he met him. If Oliver is ever captured again he could reveal Slade’s location.  So, he decides to behead Oliver. It’s the nice thing to do. It won’t hurt a bit. What can I say guys? It’s Lian Yu! These are how the memories are made.

Oliver dislocates his shoulder and punches Slade in a vain attempt to defend himself. Yao Fei may be a softer judge of character, but he’s not wrong about Oliver’s survival instinct. Slade sees the fight in Oliver’s eyes and finally understands why Yao Fei sent him. They need Oliver to survive as much as he needs them. He might not be much to look at now, but Slade Wilson is just the man to harness Oliver’s will and turn him into the fighter they all need him to become.

Stray Thoughts

David Anders is like my personal Kevin Bacon. He's in everything I watch. #Arrow #TVD #Alias #OUAT

I was never all that jazzed when L*urel was the damsel in distress and I love that crap. Another clue I didn't ship it. Source:  LAURELSOURCE

Do people on this show not realize you can’t touch evidence? JFC.

Twenty four arrows in the quiver. Good to know.

“It doesn’t mean I have to read the bastard his rights though.” IF YOU WANT THE CHARGES TO STICK YOU DO.

I am so confused on what type of law L*urel practices. Her firm works for a victim’s advocacy group, but she also prosecutes criminal cases. This feels like a radiologist performing heart surgery.

KC is just really bad at action scenes. It's always so awkward.

Musings of the Kiddo

Kiddo: Does he ever run out of arrows?

Me: He has extra in the car.

Disclaimer: Any gifs on the blog are not mine. If you would like a gif removed from my reviews, please message me.

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[jbbarnesnnoble]

this is me trying

Summary: You take a sudden leave of abscence to find yourself, leaving questions in your wake. 

Features: Angst; Allusions to mental health struggles; fluff

Pairing: Steve Rogers/Natasha Romanoff/Reader; Steve Roger/Natasha Romanoff

Notes: This is another fic verse I want to revisit sometime.

Word Count: 3449

The shrill sound of an alarm blaring was quickly silenced. Sunlight streamed through the curtains as you rolled over, pulling your comforter over your head. There was no point in getting up, you thought. You were injured and off missions indefinitely until you recovered. The team was gone, off on several different missions. You had been alone for the better part of two weeks. 

Your injury had been your own fault. You’d be lying if you said you had tried to avoid it. Truth was, you hadn’t been feeling okay for some time. You signed up to save people. You didn’t sign up for the spotlight, for the photos and autographs. You hated it. You hated that you couldn’t go into the city with friends without speculation on your life. 

You hated that no matter how you felt about two of your teammates, it would never happen, not while you were in the spotlight, not without being branded with a scarlet letter when those two teammates were publicly and happily together. It played a role, albeit a small one, in where your headspace was. The pressure of being an Avenger was crushing you and the cracks were beginning to give way. 

“FRIDAY, is Fury available?” you asked when you finally roused from sleep. You knew a shower was overdue, but first, coffee was needed. 

“Yes agent. Shall I request an appointment?” the AI responded.

“Please. And see if Maria Hill is available,” you replied as you took a sip of your coffee. You headed to your room once finished, showering and putting on real clothes for the first time in several days. You had been living in your pajamas. You knew something had to change, something had to give, and you had an idea of what it was. You printed off the document from your laptop before heading to your appointment with Fury. 

You weren’t nervous. You weren’t. You knew Fury would say yes. You were overdue for a vacation. Except, you intended for this vacation to be permanent. When you entered the office, you slid the paper to Fury, who read it over with careful consideration as you sat down.

“A letter of resignation?” he asked, brow raised.

“Yes sir,” you replied. Maria took the letter from him, reading through it herself. By the time you left the office, you were no longer an active member of the team, a soft smile on your face and a twinge of sadness in your heart. 

You knew in your heart you needed to do this. You were teetering ever closer to the edge, that point of no return. You needed to leave before you hit that point. You told yourself it wasn’t forever as you packed a bag, leaving your room mostly untouched. It was a promise of return. But until then, you turned out the lights and walked out the door, the sun setting over the horizon behind you as you began your journey. 

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Steve was anxious to get back and he knew he wasn’t alone in that feeling. Natasha hated leaving you behind with no one. Too much time for you to be left to your thoughts, to get trapped inside your own head. Therapy had helped you, but Natasha and Steve both worried about a backslide with the entire team out of the compound, leaving you to your own devices for over a week. 

Neither of them had made a move yet. They talked about it. They agonized over when to do it. But neither one of them had been willing to make that first move. The timing never seemed right. Steve worried the timing would never be right. They loved each other. And he was certain, they loved you. 

Natasha caught his eye as he glanced around the jet. If she was anxious, she wasn’t letting on, not like he was. 

“We’ll talk to her when we land. It will be fine,” Natasha said, placing her hand over his. Steve hoped she was right. You were the missing piece of the puzzle, they both knew it. 

It seemed like hours passed before they were landing at the compound, when in reality, it had only been a half hour. The sun had set and the darkness of night had set in. They had to debrief, but then? Then it would be time to talk to you. Natasha would deny that she felt nervous about that. This was different. This was you. 

Steve and Natasha looked at one another as they walked off the jet. If you weren’t on the mission, you would usually be there to greet them, unless you were on a mission of your own. It was routine. You weren’t on a mission, leaving them worried. 

The debriefing seemed to drag on, but the moment they were freed from that particular brand of torture, Steve was asking about you. He was stunned with the response, refusing to believe what he had heard. 

“She’s what?” Steve asked. There was no way what FRIDAY had told him was true.

“She resigned several days ago and left the compound as a civilian,” the AI repeated. Steve shared a look with Natasha, his heart breaking with each beat.

“Where did she go?” Natasha asked, her voice almost betraying her emotion. Natasha Romanoff had few weak spots. You were one of them.

“That information is classified, Agent Romanoff,” the AI replied. If Steve’s heart was breaking, Natasha’s was shattered. In that moment, she wasn’t sure what she was going to do. 

Your room was locked tight. Only Stark would be able to override the controls to the door and they both knew he wouldn’t. Not when everything around your departure was shrouded in secrecy, except for a letter, simply saying you needed time. 

Steve wondered where you were and what you were doing. Natasha wondered if they had said something sooner if you would have stayed. 

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Three months. It had been three months since you left. You found yourself dipping your toes in the warm waters off the Florida coast after the sun had set. It was different from up north. Up north, the waters would be frigid with the winter chill. You had only been there a few weeks. You had spent time in Raleigh, taking in the North Carolina beauty as you made your way down the coast. You didn’t linger around the northeast. You didn’t want to be found. 

You thought about Steve, about Natasha. You had clued in to how they felt. No matter how much you wanted to tell them you felt the same way, you couldn’t drag them into your mess. You couldn’t bring yourself to feel like more of a burden. You knew it wasn’t healthy to think that way. Your therapist had spoken to you about that more than enough times. But it was a habit that was hard to break. 

Your therapist signed an ironclad NDA and none of your paperwork was kept on a computer. It wasn’t even under your real name. Fury had created an alias for you when you left, set you up with the funds you would need and the paperwork to do whatever it was your heart desired. There was a lot that could be done with a borrowed next generation photostatic veil and hair dye. One of your pet projects had been tinkering with the tech to make it suit your own purposes, like hiding from your team. 

Your phone rang, which was unusual. It was a burner phone, one only Fury had the number for. You would have to ditch it once you answered.

“Hello?” you asked upon answering.

“Your position has been compromised. Romanoff picked up a hit on social media in Key West,” he said. You swore under your breath. The one time you went without the photostatic veil because you thought it was safe enough.

“How long do I have?” you asked. 

“They depart in thirty minutes,” he said before hanging up. You cursed as you tossed the phone to the side. You had less than two hours. You hastily packed your bags and headed for the car you were going to have to ditch. At least it was a rental. 

As soon as you got to the mainland, you returned the car before heading to a known blind spot nearby the rental place, changing your clothes and your appearance the best you could, before putting on one of the few wigs you had. Maybe one day you’d want to be found, but you weren’t ready. Not yet. 

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Steve frowned as they cased the motel you had been staying at. It was where Natasha had picked up on your location. Inside the room the manager led them to, was a cellphone and a note. A note addressed to the two of them. 

“I know the two of you have questions. I’m not ready. I’m not ready to come back, and I don’t know if I ever will be. I’m not okay, but this is me trying to learn how to be. This is me trying to learn to love myself, to embrace myself. Please, stop looking. I care about you both, I care about our friends, but right now, I need to put myself first,” Natasha read.

“She knew we were coming,” Steve replied. 

“Someone tipped her off. The phone’s been wiped. She had a head start,” Natasha said. She knew you were in the wind. You would have been cautious in your departure, ensuring their trail that started in Key West, ended there too. 

And she was right. They managed to track your car to a rental lot on the mainland and hit a dead end. 

“What do we do now?” Steve asked.

“We wait,” Natasha replied, resigned to the fact that you didn’t want to be found. 

When you left, they had felt a need to find you. You weren’t doing okay and your departure had proven that. They had been worried about you for some time. It was Steve who had talked you into going to therapy, Natasha who was there with a cup of tea and a warm blanket after the rougher sessions. But that didn’t stop you from feeling lost, from feeling confined. It didn’t stop the doubts and loathing that clouded your mind. 

“What if she never comes home?” Steve asked. Natasha paused for a moment before taking his hand and looking at him.

“She will. She will,” Natasha said. 

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Another month found you in Austin. Winter had long since set in, with spring on the horizon, though winter in the south didn’t bother you much. There was no snow to contend with, no below freezing temperatures. You found yourself wandering 6th Street, taking in the sights and sounds of the city.

You ducked into a P. Terry’s to grab a burger and fries before heading to the Capitol building to enjoy the unseasonably warm day. You had your next stops planned out to hit Arizona in time to see the Grand Falls in all their glory as the winter snow melted upstream and raised the height of the water heading to the falls. 

You had an old contact out that way, one who was more than happy to accompany you once you got there. It had been a long time since you’d seen them. Em was a civilian friend, one who you owed a lot to. The last time you had been lost, they were one who brought you back from the brink. It was an unbreakable bond forged in the cramped dorm room the two of you were forced to share during your first year of college, the kind of situation that would make or break a friendship. 

As you made yourself comfortable on the steps of the Capitol, your phone pinged with a message from her. You had made it a point to memorize her number long ago. The phone Fury had the number for wasn’t the same one you used to talk to Em and other friends to assure them you were still breathing. No. You refused to mix the two facets of your life together. It was too risky. 

Em: When are you planning on getting here?

You: About a week and a half. I’m in Austin for a bit before I make my way to Arizona. Have some more things to explore. I went to NASA in Houston the other day. Did you know they have longhorns on the NASA campus? 

Em: Are the longhorns the key to you realizing what you’ve known all along?

You: Not this again

Em: You can’t run from it forever, Kicks. At some point, you’re either going to burn yourself out running from it or you’ll woman up and make your way back home. And for your sake, I hope it’s the latter

You: I need time

Em: You’ve got time. I’m not going to rush you or tell you what to do, Kicks. Just know you’re loved, and I support you, 100%. You’ll find what you’re looking for. I know it

You texted with them back and forth. Em was one of the few who would tell you how it was. They had given you the nickname Kicks the first time they had visited your hometown and saw you get into a fight with a guy you had graduated with. One swift kick to the groin and he was down. You managed to avoid getting into trouble, considering the guy was the one who started things. You had ended it. 

It was too early in the year for the Congress bats to be flying. But you had some ideas of things to do and see in Austin after a walk around the Capitol building. You’d head toward San Antonio and the Alamo in a few days, but in that moment, you were content to explore Austin and all it had to offer. 

As you wandered the city, your thoughts drifted. You thought about Steve and Natasha, about how they were doing, if they would want you when you eventually returned, if you ever did. You were still uncertain about that, on if you would ever be ready to go back to New York, to the team, to the two people you had started falling in love with before you left. 

You found your way to the water and found a bench, pulling out the journal you had been writing in since you left, now on your third one. You had a lot on your mind. 

March 5th- I left four months ago. I still don’t know if I am where I want to be. I’m trying. I am. When I left, I was aimless. I was hurting, feeling like I was alone in crowded rooms, screaming with no sound. I was clawing at a cage of my own making, desperate for escape. The past four months has been me trying to reconcile with myself, me trying to find myself in a tumultuous sea that doesn’t care if it pulls me down or spits me out. 

I swam with dolphins in Florida. Spent Mardi Gras in New Orleans. Told myself I wouldn’t drink, but I did. Had the worst hangover I’d had since going shot for shot with Nat on a combination of vodka and Thor’s Asgardian mead a couple years ago. Mind you, after the shots of vodka, it only took one shot of the mead for both Nat and I to be gone. I’ve been trying to remember moments like those, the carefree ones before the darkness crept in. 

Dr. LeVeaux-Coulter thinks I’m doing better. I went off my medication at the end of January with her blessing. It's been a learning curve. The good days are outnumbering the bad. She has me checking in with her more often since I went off my medication fully. She’s happy with the progress I made. We talked a bit about the future last session, a topic I’ve stayed far away from for so long. I used to think, what was the use of talking about it when you didn’t think you had one? 

She had me make a list of things I want. I’m just not so sure I’ll be able to have them. 

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It was the middle of March when Natasha got another lead. You were picked up on a security camera in Arizona with another person. You looked happier than you had in a long time. She wondered if it was intentional or another accident. She decided to keep it to herself until she could determine if it was intentional.

Steve was off on a mission with Bucky and Sam. He wouldn’t be back for another three days. It would be plenty of time for Natasha to figure out if it was something to pursue, if it was you reaching out. 

It was after training the next day that her phone pinged with a message from a number she didn’t recognize. 

Unknown: Grand Falls, Arizona. Thursday. 6:30AM

Natasha almost dropped the phone. She was certain it was a message from you. A follow up had exact coordinates. 

As soon as Steve was home and had debriefed, Natasha was whisking him away to Arizona. It was time to bring their girl home. 

------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------

You set out early with Em, before the sun even began to peak above the horizon. Their long black hair was pulled into a neat braid. You had secured yours away from your face. It would do no good to have your hair getting in your face on the hike to the waterfall. 

“The waterfall is at full force this time of year with the snowmelt. I think it’s the perfect place for this,” they said as the two of you began your trek. You felt anxiety swelling in your gut. You worried they wouldn’t show. Not after nearly five months of no communication, after you left without a word, only FRIDAY to tell them you had left. 

“What if they don’t show?” you asked, a slight waver in your voice. Em smacked your arm. 

“If there’s one thing I know, it’s that those two are head over heels for you. I saw it when I came to visit you,” they said. You frowned. That had been nearly two years ago. Your busy lives made it difficult to visit each other often. Usually it was you making time to go to Arizona, your schedule much more flexible than Em’s. 

“You might want to get your eyes checked there, Em,” you joked. They shook their head, muttering something under their breath. The two of you continued the hike, joking around and catching up. Em’s wedding was coming up in the fall. You were looking forward to it. 

When you reached the viewing point, you gazed in awe at the beauty of the scenery. In all your travels, it was the natural wonders that drew you in the most. Museums and historical sites were nice, but nothing could compete with the untouched beauty of some of the spots you visited. 

“I’ll be leaving you soon. Call me, yeah?” Em asked before they hugged you.

“Of course. Thank you, for everything, Em. I’ll see you in September?” you asked. 

“If you don’t I’ll come drag you back here for my wedding myself,” they teased.

“Wouldn’t miss it for the world,” you replied. You watched as they headed back, waiting until they disappeared from sight before you took out your camera to snap your photos while you waited. 

You were so lost in your thoughts, you didn’t hear someone calling your name. Steve calling your name. You almost jumped when his arms wrapped around you before your brain caught up. Steve was there. Steve was holding you. Steve was crushing you.

“Steve...Steve need to breathe,” you forced out. You heard Natasha laugh as Steve pulled away. 

“Sorry...sorry. It’s...it’s good to see you,” he said as he pulled away. Natasha took an opportunity to steal a hug of her own. The sun was just starting to show its first light on the horizon.

“Yeah. It’s uh, it’s good to see you both too,” you said. 

“Are you ready to come home?” Steve asked. You thought for a moment. Steve was always one to get right to the point. 

“Depends. You want me to?” you replied.

“Always,” Natasha said. 

“We have a lot to talk about,” you said, though it came out as more of a question.

“And we have the time to,” Steve replied. Natasha wrapped an arm around you as Steve wrapped his around you from your other side, the three of you watching the sun rise over the waterfall. 

[teamfadedblue]

I'm so glad you are back! I hope everyone in the team finds stability soon. I wanted to ask what you thought of the end of steven universe, the movie and future, especially the diamonds' development

Firstly, thank you so much for the kind words, mate <3. Rest assured, my partners are safe and doing well overall.

So I preeeeetty much knew this one was coming so, let’s answer this in chunks, shall we?

First, the movie. Overall? I really enjoyed it. ‘Twas a fun romp, had some really god tier songs. And Spinel was both fun and charming. The conceit of basing a Gem off a 20s cartoon character, both in a general design way and in a “out-of-date cartoon that never evolved“ metatextual storytelling way. And in an action scene sense, her fighting primarily with shapeshifting is fun and different from the usual assortment of weapons we see Gems using.

That said, I do have two quibbles with it, albeit only one can be held against the movie.

First is the ending. To put it bluntly, Spinel needed therapy at the end of the movie, not to be the Diamonds’ replacement goldfish for Pink. While it is true that Spinel is far from the only character who needs therapy in SU, because her arc was condensed into a single movie it can feel a lot more noticeable that she probably still needs some help. Help that the Diamonds (or really any Gem besides maybe the CGs) aren’t equip to give her.

And the second.... well it was (and still is to an extent) somewhat aggravating that Spinel was almost immediately embraced by the fandom, while Bismuth, a character who has basically the same core backstory as Spinel (was betrayed and “put away” by Rose/Pink) was met with a lot of scorn when she first appeared.

And while I am of course not saying that if you like Spinel you have to like Bismuth an equal amount or if you don’t like Bismuth than you’re “problematic” or whatever, I do think it’s worth examining and asking why a character who is very obviously coded as a black woman was met with a lot of backlash and cold shoulders while a character with no immediate racial coding (that I know of), only the aesthetics of old-timey cartoons, was met with almost universal love and support by the fandom despite both of them having the same core narrative and backstory.

But okay, overall both of those are listed under the category of ‘Things That Don’t Ruin The Movie’. The SU movie was fun and enjoyable story. Not the best way to cap off the series, but luckily it wasn’t the end of the series.

So, Future. Not gonna lie, not gonna sugar coat it. Future was..... fucking amazing.

Future went in really the only direction the series had left at this point; narrowing in and focusing in on Steven’s lingering trauma. And goddamn they did not pull any punches. And these ranged from the obvious points like “yeah, Steven continuing to base his identity around a constant need to keep other safe and happy isn’t going to result in a healthy state of mind” to points I never even saw coming like “hey remember all those funny slapstick moments in S1? Yeah, those fractured Steven’s literal skeleton.” And the ‘final boss’ of the series being a physical manifestation of his self hatred and guilt? That’s just- *chef kiss* perfect, perfect storytelling. SU ended, but it ended with the Crew leaving everything on the field and the results speak for themselves.

All this resulted in a season (Series, I guess? But let’s be honest, Future is really just the last season of SU) that was about as dark as the Crew could get while still maintaining the same general ‘feel’ of SU that we’ve experienced since Gem Glow. And while some didn’t care for the darker tone of Future, which I can understand, I think it was a pretty prefect end for the series. It got dark, but it ended on a happy, forward looking note, which is exactly as I would have wanted it.

And, finally.... The Diamonds.

First the positive. As there is more and more space between myself and ‘A Single Pale Rose’ I find myself softening and being more understanding towards Rose/Pink. She has messed up, multiple times, but she never really had the support ‘growing up’ that would impart those kind of emotional maturity lessons, so when things got hairy, she ran. Whether it’s from her fellow Diamonds, Spinel, Bismuth, her life as a Diamond, or her mounting sense of guilt and ennui. And that left its marks on other people, the people that were closest to her.

But as I said, she didn’t really have the emotional tools to handle these situations in a healthy manner. And while that by no means washes her hands of those actions (don’t worry, Rose will have to deal with the fallout of her actions in the fic) it’s also hard to treat her in exactly the same way you would someone who’s had an emotionally healthy and sound upbringing.

Rose is, as Rose has always been. Complicated, and she’s going to be represented as such in the fic.

And okay. The other Diamonds.

To just get it out in the open right now, 2 year hiatus has not done much to warm myself towards the Diamonds. I still feel the same about them, only now it’s made worse because they had a very poor redemption arc.

It has since come out that the Diamond Days arc was forced to be rushed due to to Cartoon Network constantly jerking the Crews chain and leaving them hanging on whether they were going to get more episodes. That is very shitty of CN and I have no small amount of ire towards them for, once again, not realizing the quality of show they have. But... the show we have is the show we have, and that’s all I can really judge.

And even if it was done perfectly, Diamondemption would always be a hard sell for me. As has been said on this blog before, the Diamonds are sympathetic characters, that is true, but they’re also horrible dictators who feel sad for themselves, but show no remorse or second thought in the Gems they oppress and torment. And the fact that the Diamonds never really had to answer to those oppressed, aside from some light admonishment from Steven is... very unfortunate and easily the weakest of SU, by far.

It’s ultimately a very good thing Future was the end of SU rather than Change Your Mind, because otherwise that would have been a very sour note to end on.

[system-of-a-feather]

It’s chill if you can’t answer this/don’t want to answer it but I have a therapist who is unwilling to try brainspotting because of our DID, but your earlier post seemed to imply it’s a normal and helpful tool even with DID. Are there any resources or testimonies you can share to potentially show my own therapist about brainspotting with DID?

I mean I don't think it is necessarily the most "normal and helpful" tool in all cases. I think it is a bit experimental currently so I would say trust your therapist and their comfort zone as a clinician before you look back at my experiences and my therapist's comfort zone as a clinician.

I actually haven't read too much into brainspotting myself, partially on the account that I want to really come in as a patient perspective (for once) and not have my tendency to be really interested in treatment methods detract from my ability to actually be engaged in it. None of the statements I will be saying right now are going to be from scholarly or academic sources since, again, I have intentionally decided to not dig too deep into it. From the brief reading I did before agreeing to give it a go as well as discussions with my own therapist, it seems to be I guess "made" for a lack of better words by a psychologist by the name of Dr. David Grand [x] [x] [x] and it is a bit of a pioneering treatment to PTSD and C-PTSD. Brainspotting is often compared to EMDR, it seems to be a lot less over stimulating and over whelming and tends to be a lot less risky for people with dissociation [x].

With that being said, it really is only really discussed as a "better alternative to EMDR" for people who have complex trauma and mind find EMDR too "strong" or overpowering. This comes with the implication that Brainspotting can still be too much / overwhelming for a patient as well, albeit that it would likely be less overwhelming than EMDR.

It's a relatively new form of treatment with research supporting it as another "power therapy" (2003 based on a quick not checked google search, compared to 1987 with EMDR) and considering how poorly researched DID can be, I don't think there is sufficient information to firmly say if it is best / ideal or not.

Additionally, from what I've discussed with my therapist on it and his training / certifications on it, it seems as though there is a lot of nuance and specialized training for doing brainspotting with patients with complex trauma / DID. He also mentioned that the specialized training sessions that he did and took leave for didn't really satisfy him / make him confident so he took a few months to independently seek out more information and training with expert specialists before offering to work with it with me to make sure he was prepared and knew what he was doing to keep me also safe.

As it is, I can't say too much since I didn't read extensively into it and mainly read only enough to get the idea and concept understood on my end then just trusted that my therapist knew what he was doing before starting it.

If your therapist is uncomfortable doing brainspotting, it's honestly probably valid and there is probably a reason (may she think it is too experimental / unclear on how it works with DID or lack of confidence that her training matches up to what she might face with a patient who has DID and brain spotting, or having not been trained specially for Brainspotting and DID) and I would trust her personal judgement on it considering brainspotting is also very much dependent on the capabilities of a therapist. If she doesn't feel like it would be a good idea, she is probably trying to be responsible in the sense that she does not think she could do you justice / keep you safe while doing it.

If you are still interested in it, I would still recommend bringing it up with your therapist and discussing your thoughts and feelings about it and see where that goes - at least given you trust your therapist which I am assuming. If you don't trust your therapist entirely and still want to try, you could always seek out another therapist to test the waters with.

Also do take everything in this post with a grain of salt. I have said it a number of times, but this is not an academically researched explanation / description of brainspotting as much as a briefly google searched and "word of mouth from my therapist" explanation / description of brainspotting and I may be partially / entirely wrong.

-Riku (Host)

[harry-sussex]

You're lovely, and I enjoy seeing your blog on my dashboard. I'm sorry this has been such a difficult thing to process. It's always really difficult to rework an image of someone you once thought you knew. However I'd like to just put it out there - sometimes (I think the large majority of the time) news is presented in the most sensationalist way, such that nowadays I make a point of de-sensationalizing any news I read in my head. In the case of the whole Harry's memoir thing- I can sympathize with Harry as a person possibly just wanting to take back some control of the narrative for himself. Not just in the most recent events with family (that I tend to think are less horrifying than the fandom/Twitter sussex squad discusses it anyway), but in all aspects of his life. I do not at all think he's going to put his family on blast. I can easily imagine Meghan reigning that dialogue in; she has the tendency to think before she speaks that he seems to lack. And he loves his family. Similar to The Interview promos, I imagine the publishing house knew to increase the interest by implying it to be a tell all memoir. I think he's just done a lot of growing up that he didn't know he had to do over a short period of time, esp re: implicit bias/racism in the setting of media's blatant attack on someone he loves, and is disappointed by the institution's and his family's response to it. I think he's emerged a more introspective and aware human, albeit a disillusioned one. Yes it breaks my heart to think that Meghan won't get a break from the tabloids any time soon. If I were him I'd counsel him to write it & sit on it for a few yrs. But I don't want to give the media the power to destroy Meghan in my mind, and I pray she & Harry won't either. I think she'll be okay. She's a strong one, and I think he's able to draw that same link for himself and be thoughtful about what he does. No one likes being misunderstood/misinterpreted, and I wouldn't be surprised if Harry's especially triggered by that given his history with the press. Maybe this idea emerged from therapy, idk. I can empathize with that, even if I wouldn't do it myself. I hope and pray Meghan gets the support she needs from him and her loved ones in the meantime. I'm honestly not going to read it. I think the less attention I give the BRF the better off they are, unless they're doing something immoral/illegal (see: Woking pizza alibi). And I think at the end of the day, people will unfairly judge other people, especially public figures that have tragic pasts and are publically fighting with the media. A lot of it is going to be noise and I'm not going to give my energy into figuring it out. I like to think I've got a good sense of who they are as people - flawed but ultimately well meaning and earnest. I'm a huge admirer of Meghan and think Harry got really lucky with this one and I'm proud of him for choosing her in more ways than one. I believe Harry and Meghan are lovely people, and I 100% believe their interview. I believe that there are people in the palace with a lot of unchecked power who deliberately uncovered her and Archie from BRF protection for reasons of believed superiority over Meg & Arch. And they're figuring out how to deal with that as a couple and a family. And it's none of my business past that imo. I pray for them and hope it'll eventually end in peace for them all. Just wanted to add another perspective, and hopefully some levity. xx M

Hi, dear. First thing’s first, I really appreciate that this is off anon lol. I love it when people own their opinions, and it says a lot that you did. So thank you for that.

Second of all, I really appreciate the nuance and perspective that is in this message. I agree that the news is sensationalist, and my initial reaction was based off of that. I did watch the promotional clips of the interview and I believe it did sour my expectations going into it when I watched it nearly a week after it aired. I did my best to stay away from Tumblr because I didn’t want that to hinder my view, but it was impossible to separate the promotions that presented the information one way from what it actually was, and thank you for bringing that up with respect to the memoir because I hadn’t considered it. I will say that my knee jerk reaction is pretty on par with the way I still feel about it 24 hours later, especially since I got the news directly, not from Tumblr or Twitter or anywhere else, but you’re right that it could have soured my view from the very start.

I appreciate that he wants to take back some of the narrative but I think that ship has sailed, tbh. He did that with the interview and now I just think it feels like information overload. At some point, people are going to get tired of hearing the wealthy, privileged, powerful Prince complain about his life while more than 4 million people have died due to a global pandemic in less than 2 years. Not to say that he doesn’t struggle - in the words of Roxane Gay, there is no oppression Olympics (and that can be extended to struggle Olympics) - but people view it that way and will get tired of it, if they haven’t already.

I also agree that Harry’s past with the press has tarnished the way he has handled the media and the public post-exit, when he’s finally in a position to strike back without being somewhat obliged to them as part of the circumstances of his birth. I understand and sympathize with him but I just don’t think the public does, and the public matters much, much more than the perspective of one single American fan, to whom he’s never been obliged, and I simply do not think the public will afford him that same understanding, sympathy, and leniency. The public and the media are critical to his humanitarian work - his mother never realized that towards the end of her life, and I truly don’t think she would have been the martyr/saint she is perceived to be now if she had lived, because she did not know how to meet the media in the middle and eventually that started to piss people off. He’s starting to piss people off now and if it doesn’t bother him personally (which it definitely does), I don’t want it to affect his causes. The Invictus Games, Sentebale, Walking with the Wounded, WellChild, Mayhew, Smartworks, Archewell, etc. deserve better than to suffer the wrath of the media and an apathetic public because their patrons simply will not shut up lol.

I guess my point is that they will be unfairly judged (regardless, but especially due to the way they’re handling things), and I think it would suit them better in the long run if they adopted a different strategy. I really sympathize with the fact that he feels frustrated with the narrative that has been manufactured but I really, really think the narrative will only get worse and worse as he continues to go on and on about how badly his life sucks, basically. Again, I don’t deny that he struggles - we all do, some more than others, especially when there are mental health issues - but the public, to me, simply does not care. My own therapist has told me to simply stop caring about the things that I discuss with him. Not to say that they’re not relevant, important, or worthy of discussion - they absolutely are - but his point is that you cannot change people and you are wasting your energy and struggling yourself because you want to change them so, so, so badly that you’re neglecting your own self care in the process. I hate that I do it to myself and I also hate that he appears to be doing it to himself. I’m sure a lot of this conversation has been brought up in his own therapy, and I’m no professional, but I’m doing my best to heed the advice of my own therapist - which is the opposite of what Harry is doing - and it’s done wonders for me, when I actually can do it.

If there’s anything I know from this whole thing, it’s that Harry is absolutely punching above his weight, love him as I may, and that he adores, adores, adores his wife. He has chosen her from the very second she came into his life and I couldn’t want anything more for him or from her. I’m not going to lie, I would have been in this thing for any wife that Harry chose, because I was here long before Meghan specifically came into his life. However, I am glad every day that he chose her, that he loves her, that he wants to protect her, that she loves him back, that he lives the life with her that he’s wanted as long as I (and I’m sure he) can remember. I love her because he loves her, and I would have no matter what, because at the end of the day, it’s his happiness and comfort that matters to me, that has mattered to me since I discovered him and how wonderful he can be more than 7 years ago. What more could I ask of Meghan? What more, as his fan to the end (annoy me as he may), could I want for him? Who could say anything about her in that regard? If there’s anything that has come of this mess, to me, it’s that Harry loves, loves, loves his wife. I will always be happy for him and I will always be proud of him for choosing her, even if I don’t always agree with the way he goes about it.

I’m looking forward to peace, too. I cannot wait for things to just die out, for them to work things out as a couple and as a family, and for everyone to move on. The family will still do their thing and the Sussexes can do theirs, but I cannot deal with this back and forth, tit for tat, petty nonsense anymore. They’re wonderful and flawed, like the rest of them (except Andrew), and I just hope that they can all come to some kind of agreement or terms that lets this die down. It’s exhausting for everyone - themselves included. If I’m this tired, I can only imagine how tired they all are.

Thanks for stopping by, and sorry for the essay (essays, these past 24 hours lol). I really appreciate your kindness in this message, your presence in my notifications (I do see them!), your nuanced perspective and like I said before, I really, really appreciate that you own it!

[sergeantsporks]

[deep, deep, deep, deep, sigh]

Mmmmmmkay. Not sure this is going to be a popular post. In fact, probably going to be pretty darn unpopular (making the bold assumption that anyone will see it and/or care). But I want to talk about the PROBLEMS in the Tales of Arcadia writing.

Now, Tales of Arcadia has some diddly darn good writing. I like it. A lot. And most of it is fantastic and beautiful and makes me cry. All of the character arcs are 👌. Buuuuuuuuuuut as a whole, as a multi-show story, I do find issues with the plot.

Honestly, first off, I'm not going to bring 3below into this because 3below is a bit disconnected from the rest of the series. Maybe that will change Rise of Titans, but in general, the protagonists and conflict in 3below doesn’t really intersect much with Trollhunters and Wizards. Sure, it’s in the same world, and the characters interact, but the 3below plot is only minimally connected to the Trollhunters plot, and aside from Wizards picking up where 3below left off and Krel showing up and helping with the Hisirdoux’s Eternal Time Trap, the two shows don’t intersect at all, so. Moving on.

First of all, Trollhunters. Morgana, specifically. I have... issues... with the ending. I really, really, really felt like Jim and Gunmar kind of got sidelined for Claire and Morgana respectively. Now, is this issue biased by my dislike of Claire in general? Oh, definitely, I’m not going to deny that it factors in quite a bit. But even that aside, we’re given this protagonist, Jim, and they spend 3 seasons building up this big scary troll villain named Gunmar, and how there’s going to be this invasion/eternal night thingamabob where Jim’s gonna have to face off against Gunmar and-- PSYCH! Gunmar goes out like a little punk and we flip over to the universal story constant of “if there are two girls on the battlefield, they absolutely must find each other and fight.” And okay, Morgana was built up, too. She was, it’s not like they threw her in last minute. But she was built up as the MASTERMIND, as a puppeteer in the shadows, and I don’t know, it just sort of felt like she kind of lost her place in the story and became just another endgame boss. And I 100% absolutely DESPISE the fact that Jim got sidelined for Claire. Angor Rot coming in and holding Morgana? Fantastic. Superb. Again, the character arcs in this show are great. And Jim even stabbed Morgana! It was a great fight! The protagonist overcame harrowing ordeals, stabbed the-- oh, wait. Nope. She’s not dead. Now, let’s just knock Jim out cold (albeit in a very in-character way, taking the hit for his friends) and hand the reins over to Claire, who finishes her off. And I just [sighs again] it felt a little forced? Especially since in Wizards, we re-hashed the exact same thing and just made Morgana turn good instead of killing her. I felt like Morgana was rushed in as a villain when more time should have been taken, especially if they were just going to resurrect her and do it all over in Wizards. The pacing could have been better, that’s what I’m saying.

Speaking of Wizards and Morgana. Let’s talk about Wizards and Morgana. Again, it felt like they just re-hashed the ending of Trollhunters into Wizards and changed up the ending. Now, I have no problem with Claire fighting Morgana IN GENERAL. It’s cool. However, that being said, in Trollhunters, Morgana was built up to be a puppeteer character, then became the main villain that was just a cool final boss, like I already said. And since we brought the whole fight back up in Wizards, I feel like a better alternative would have been to yes have Claire fight Morgana in Trollhunters! But for that to be the side fight and the main fight to be the fight we were originally promised of Gunmar vs. Jim. For Gunmar to get beaten in something a little more epic than “One down, one more to go!” and then for Morgana, locked in her fight with Claire and seeing that the battle is being lost, slip away into the shadows and live to fight another day. Leaves a bit of intrigue, and keeps her initially-established role as a voice in the shadows intact. Granted, this does raise problems later in Wizards as to what zombie Arthur wants and why the Arcane Order would need to destroy the amulet, but I’m sure they could find a way around it, like that Morgana’s power was severely weakened by creating the eternal night and they were unleashing more power. Instead of “Hey, I liked being dead, it was quiet” it could be more of a “without my powers, I realized the error of my ways.” There are ways to fix the issue, is all I’m saying. Plus, to leave Morgana as an unsolved, living mystery would make it even more of a big deal to see her in the past in Wizards-- instead of Claire being “Grrrrrr, Morgana, that person I killed once!” it would be “Grrrrrr, Morgana, that person who’s still at large and we never managed to defeat!” Just makes more sense for you to be mad at an enemy you have unfinished business with than one you already defeated pretty soundly.

[Deep inhale]

Okay, let’s talk about the large, stone, elephant in the room. Troll Jim and his transformation back. Pure, honest, unadulterated opinion, right off the bat? Felt like a cop-out. Now, I have to sit here and constantly remind myself “It’s a kid’s show, it’s a kid’s show, remember that it’s a kid’s show,” but I’m sorry, I like my permanent things to be a little more permanent. I liked the fact that the Airbenders remained extinct in Avatar and we didn’t [gasp!] discover more! during the show (that changed in Legend of Korra obviously, but we’re not going to get into my feelings on that). It felt a bit cheap when there was a secret colony of living Alteans in Voltron. I know, I know, it’s a kids’ show, sometimes you like a happy ending, especially when the kids’ show is Wizards and ends up getting incredibly dark (what with the amulet getting destroyed, Merlin dying, the whole Beast-Jim thing, THE PROTAGONIST STRAIGHT UP DYING, all of the emotional/psychological darkness of the Arthur and Morgana arc) through the course of it! Yay, little bit of feel-good, Jim’s not a troll anymore. That being said, again. We got told that troll Jim was PERMANENT. There was no way out of it. Apparently Claire didn’t find a way to change that through whatever gap there was between Trollhunters and Wizards. And then it got fixed, by, uhhhhhhhhh, oh. They didn’t explain what exactly fixed it. Besides I guess the [heavy sigh] *low grumbling* power of love. Felt like a cop-out, and it felt like it cheapened Jim’s sacrifice at the ending of Trollhunters for it to just *poof* fix! at the end through the power of Claire’s love. Now, granted, Jim went through the absolute wringer of first turning into a great big monster and then getting turned to stone, so sure, give the boy a break and some therapy but it still felt like a cop-out.

Okay, all this to say. I ranted for like, three paragraphs about... two issues. I COMPLIMENTED parts of the writing WHILE I WAS BASHING OTHER PARTS. That is pretty dang good, guys. Yes, I have a whole essay on why there is a PROBLEM in this WRITING, but seeing as I could only find TWO THINGS that I had a problem with? That’s some pretty solid writing. Granted, they were two pretty big things that I had essays on, and that’s not great. But hey, two big plot issues versus a multitude of plot holes? Hot dang. Not bad. So, yeah, the character arcs are all fantastically carried out, and the plots in general are sound with the Sporks seal of approval on everything but two points. Thanks for reading through, I know it was long. Feel free to tell me exactly why I’m wrong about this being bad writing. I’d love to see someone else’s opinion and/or someone making me feel better about these issues that I have.

[give-me-back-my-rhodey]

Let’s Burn the World Down - AUgust Day 6

Title: Let’s Burn the World Down

Author: Purple_ducky00

Rating: Teen

Relationship: Clint Barton/Tony Stark, Background relationships: Bucky/Natasha, Steve/Sam

Link: Read on AO3

Summary: Tony falls in love with the guy he keeps meeting in the ER. Too bad the guy already has a girlfriend... or does he?

+++++++++++

For a billionaire, Tony has to go to the hospital very often. Whether it’s a lab accident, a car accident, an assassination attempt, and/or anything else, Tony finds himself in the ER at least once a month. His insurance is higher than his standards, which isn’t saying much, Tony surmises, because he’s halfway in love with the guy he sees almost every time he goes.

 They’ve seen each other so frequently that they’ve started nodding to each other and saying, “What are you in for?” like they do in the movies at the police station.

 Although he’s being truthful, Tony knows that most of his incidents sound very made up. “Oh, they sent someone to assassinate me, but I managed to flirt my way out of it with only a stab wound.” “My lab exploded.” “My robot dropped a steel sheet on my foot.” “I tripped on something and fell off my porch to the porch below.” But he is even more disbelieving of this man’s injuries.

The guy says stuff like “I shot myself with a boomerang arrow.” “I was skydiving with my dog and my parachute got caught on a tree branch, and an eagle attacked me.” “I think that pizza I ate was too old.” “My old circus buddy tried to kill me. He failed.” “I fell out of the vents, and the bad guys beat me up.”

 Today Tony comes in because he had to jump through a window to avoid Sunset Bain. He now has glass sticking out of his side, and he’s sitting calmly until a doctor can see him. The man limps in, bloody and skin mangled on his leg. The others in the ER gasp as he signs in and takes a seat beside Tony. “Hey man, what you in for?” He asks.

 “Jumped out a window to avoid my ex.”

 “Mood.” The man nods sagely. “I just battled a cougar and won. Before you ask, yes it was the cat kind, although I don’t doubt that a middle-aged woman couldn’t do this if she was rejected.” He gestures to his leg. Tony barks out a laugh.

 “Oh, they could. Trust me. By the way, I never got your name. Or did you want to stay anonymous?” Tony asks.

 The man shakes his head. “We’d go great no matter how we do it. Name’s Clint.”

 “I’m Tony.”

“Yea, I know.” When Tony looks at him, surprised, Clint pats his shoulder placatingly. “You’ve got these people fooled with your greasy shirts and hats, but I never forget a face. Don’t worry, I won’t rat you out. But why do you come to this crappy ER all the time? Aren’t you supposed to go to the ones that are made for rich people?”

 Tony shrugs. Truthfully, the first couple time he came, it was because he had happened to be in the neighborhood when disaster struck. He had struck up conversation with Clint, and he decided that if he were able to talk with him, Tony would keep coming to this ER. “I don’t know. I’m in the area a lot, I guess.”

 Tony gets that he has problems. He knows that he quickly falls in love with anyone who will show him kindness or even just the time of day because he didn’t get enough love and attention from his parents as a child. He goes to therapy, and he does make an effort to figure out which people are being nice only because they want something, which people are just simply being nice, and which people are flirting. It’s still hard sometimes, like now. He doesn’t think Clint wants something because 1.) he just said that he won’t rat Tony out and 2.) he could have taken Tony’s wallet very easily many times. But is Clint just a nice dude, or does he like Tony?

 A nurse gets Tony just as another comes for Clint. Tony lies on his side for far too long as they pull glass from his body. When he’s cleared to go, the doctor tells him, “You have to be more careful, Mr. Stark. You’re not invincible, and I’d hate to see anything happen to you.”

 “Thanks Doc. I’ll do my best.” He shakes the man’s hand.

 On his way out, he sees Clint talking to a beautiful redhead. She is reaming him out in Russian, calling him and idiot and a few other unsanitary words. Clint tries to console her, but she grabs his hand and pushes him into her car. She speeds off, still shouting in Russian. Tony’s heart drops. He has no chance with Clint now. No one would give up a woman like her for him unless they wanted something.

 The next time Tony gets hurt, he goes to the ER near his home. He is in and out shortly, but Tony feels incomplete. He misses the easy camaraderie with Clint. I can still joke with him as friends, right? There’s no harm in that. He reasons, but he chickens out the next time, when he accidentally burns his arm with his blowtorch, and then when he gets shot. This keeps happening until it has been at least three months since he last saw Clint.

 Tony gets drunk in a bar | in Brooklyn. Very, very drunk. The thing about being a Stark – you can hold your liquor very well, and even when you are so drunk most people black out, you can still walk and talk albeit hindered a little. Well, Tony is that drunk, and this is when he tends to overshare. He’s telling the bartender, a beefy man with long brown hair, about Clint. “So, there’s this guy, you know. Only time I see him is when I go to the ER. He’s really cute, he’s got like tons of biceps, and he’s funny. We used to see each other all the time, and I think I love him. But one time, I saw him, and he had a girlfriend. Super, smoking hot redhead – like I don’t even stand a chance. So, I’ve been avoiding him. It’s dumb because he doesn’t know I like him, and I keep convincing myself that I can still talk to him as friends and such, but then my brain just tells me he has a girlfriend, and I end up going to an ER near my house. You know?”

 “Not really.” The bartender grins. “But I’m not an ER regular.”

“That’s too bad. It’s fun there sometimes.” Tony pats his hand somberly. “Sometimes we freak people out with our injuries. But we’re calm. It happens so much that we’re just like ‘meh’.  The doctor told me to be careful because I wasn’t invincible, and I was like ‘ok, I’ll tell my enemies to stop trying to kill me. I hope it works.’”

 The bartender throws back his hand and laughs. Tony drains his glass of Scotch and asks for another. “Don’t you think you’ve had enough?” The bartender asks. What was his name? Barney? Barn?

 “Barnes!” Yells someone from the other end of the bar. “I need a mimosa stat!”

 “Shut your whore mouth Wilson!” Barnes yells back. “I’m not serving you anything after what you and Steve put me though last night!” He turns back to Tony. “The dude’s dating my step-brother, and our walls aren’t soundproofed. I hate them so much.”

 “I could soundproof your walls for you.” Tony offers. He’s not sure why he offered, but he did. It’s not like he hasn’t done it before.

 “Thanks for the offer, but Nat and I will get them back at some point. Maybe we’ll do it on the couch.” Barnes grins. “Someone else can make Sam’s mimosa. Wanda’s working that end of the bar anyways.” He gives Tony one more Scotch and says, “This is your last one. I’m going to have to cut you off because I don’t want you to die.”

 Tony quietly sips on his drink while Barnes makes other drinks. Once done, he stuffs a few hundreds in the tip jar and turns to leave when a scarlet-haired woman sits on the stool beside him. Tony blinks at her for a second, thinking that she looks familiar. Barnes’ face lights up, and he comes over to her. “Hey, come here often?” He asks, fake seductively.

 “Don’t be an idiot,” She tells him and pulls his face in for a kiss. Tony realizes why he thinks she looks familiar. She’s Clint’s girlfriend!

He spins on his stool to face them. “You bitch!” He yells at her, then clamps a hand over his mouth as Barnes growls a warning. “I am so sorry. I don’t know your situation. You could have broken up with him, or hey, you’re a threesome, or an open relationship. I’m sorry. I was just caught up… and I’ll just go.”

 Tony stumbles off the stool and heads out of the bar. Mind swirling with liquor and shame, he doesn’t notice he’s in the street or the ugly purple car headed towards him until it’s too late. Frozen, he stares down the lights until the car smacks into him.

 Lying on the ground, the last thing he remembers is a person jumping out and yelling, “What are you doing, you idiot? Tony?”

 Tony wakes up in a strange place. He feels like he should be in the hospital, but he’s not. Looking around, he sees a lot of… purple. “Ugh, no one should have this much purple anything,”

 “I take offense to that.” A voice says. Wait… that’s Clint. Tony wildly tries to sit up, and Clint comes into his line of vision. “Hey, hey lie back down! I don’t think anything’s broken, but you should probably just let your body rest for a while.”

 “What happened?”

 “I hit you with my car because you were standing in the middle of the street. Why were you standing in the middle of the street?” Clint looks worried.

 Tony tries to wave him off. “You know, just for the thrill.”

 “Tony, most things I do are just for the thrill, and I know it’s idiotic to stand in the middle of the street.”

 “Yeah well, the thing I did before it was idiotic, too, so I’m pretty good at that.” Tony sighs. He doesn’t really want to get into it because Clint will probably make him leave. Tony’s good at leaving. Everyone makes him leave after they learn his true self. Ah, well, what does he have to lose but the love of his life?

 “So, last time we were both at the ER, I saw the woman who picked you up. I guess I just figured you were dating the way you both interacted with each other,” Tony explains. “Well, at the bar last night, she came in and made out with the bartender. I called her a bitch because my first thought was that she was cheating on you. Then I remembered that it had been three months, and I didn’t really know anything about you – you might have broken up, or were poly, or open relationship. Point is, I’m an idiot who speaks before he thinks then faces the consequences, even if they’re not direct.” He is very confused when Clint starts to laugh. “What’s so funny?”

 “I can’t believe you called Natasha a bitch and still live to tell the story.” Clint says between gasps. “That’s fuckin hilarious. I am sorry that I hit you with my car.”

 Tony is thoroughly confused, and Clint takes pity on him. “Natasha is dating Bucky, the bartender. She’s my best friend and confidante. She gets angry when I do stupid things, but I still do them. We are not dating, never have, and never will. Hopefully, that clears things up.”

 “A little.” Tony just feels disoriented. This is not something he has ever had to deal with before.  

 There’s a knock at the door. This “Natasha” pokes her head in. “Hey Clint, is he ok?”

 “Yea, come in. Tony meet Natasha Romanoff. Natasha, this is Tony Stark.” Clint gestures to the both of them.

 Natasha smirks. “Hi Tony.”

 “Hi,” He says weakly. “I’m sorry for calling you a bitch. I sometimes talk before I think, and I’m sorry.”

 “Just don’t do it again. Are you guys hungry? Bucky’s making blini.”

 Clint nods. “Tell him I love him. We’ll take two plates. You like blini, right?” He directs the question at Tony.

 “I think so. I’ve only had them once or twice,” Tony says. When Natasha leaves, he tells Clint, “You don’t have to stay with me. I’ll be fine.”

 “Well this is my room, so I want to stay here. By the way, how have you been? I haven’t seen you in a while. I was starting to think you took my fancy ER comment seriously.”

 Tony grimaces. “Well, it’s a long story. But I did end up going to the ER near my house a couple times. It’s hard to get no injuries in the stuff I do.”

 “Well, I don’t blame you for going to the uber fancy ERs, you know, because there’s better service or whatever. But if you do, can we hang out somewhere other than the ER, then? I kind of missed you, man.” Clint looks at Tony earnestly.

 “The main reason I stopped going to our ER is that I saw you with Natasha and thought, ‘how could I ever compete?’ I would tell myself to just go. I could talk to you as a friend, and not me crushing on you, but I always psyched myself out when I got hurt, and I just went to the ER by my house.”

 “You’re crushing on me? Wow. I did not know that. I crushed on you the first day I saw you, and I thought you were just being nice. I’m a dumpster fire on my best days.”

 Tony shoots him a wicked grin. “Then let’s burn down the world together.” 

[flightfoot]

Scarlet Fever analysis 3 - Luka

AO3

Note: This analysis contains spoilers for all of Scarlet Fever by @chronicallylatetotheparty. I advise you read that first if you don’t want to get spoiled.

------

I was really surprised when I reread Scarlet Fever and realized that Luka actually has a pretty compelling character arc playing out in the background - or at least the potential for one, though it’s hindered by only having snippets of his POV, which limits how much the reader can get in his head and see exactly how his thoughts and opinions change with the events of the book.

First of all, having him fall victim to the dust was a genius move. (The dust in general was, really). One of the issues with Luka canonically is how little he expresses negative emotions, even when it would make sense to feel upset, sad, or angry. By coating him with Princess Justice’s dust Loganlight gave an excuse for why Luka would show more emotion, be more free with what he really thought without negating his prior characterization in canon.

He starts out shocked and upset that Marinette of all people got akumatized, wanting desperately to know what could have gotten her so upset that she couldn’t fend off an akuma.

"He didn't tell me," Luka corrected, staring with watery eyes at the Guardian. "Marinette did. I don't know who you are but apparently you're in charge. So, tell me what happened that would make Marinette of all people fall victim to Papillon's akuma!" He barely restrained himself from shouting. (Chapter 6)

Adrien volunteers the reason, at least as he sees it.

"I thought if she didn't antagonize Lila she'd be fine. Th-that Marinette would be safe. I-I thought... that if you didn't draw attention to yourself... They wouldn't- They wouldn't-" He couldn't say anything he didn't think was true. It bubbled up from where he'd pushed it down. "They wouldn't hurt you!" he finished in a rush. "I thought Lila was like Father... If I don't disappoint him... he doesn't punish me... If Marinette didn't... I thought she'd be safe. I thought Marinette would be safe. I d-didn't want Lila to come after Marinette if she was akumatized. I... I told h-her not to s-say anything..." (Chapter 6)

Adrien’s actions make a lot of sense, considering the angle he’s approaching from, especially since he didn’t know that Lila had threatened Marinette before this. But he still feels absolutely TERRIBLE about what happened, since well… Marinette ended up getting hurt.

Luka’s furious and actually makes to punch Adrien, though others do intervene and he thinks better of it.

Here, he thinks the worst of Adrien that he ever has. He liked Adrien before, even thought of him as a friend (albeit not a particularly close one), but now? Right now he’s thinking of him as being a coward who through his actions got Marinette hurt.

Which is an understandable perspective, but not really a fair one. Especially since Adrien explained why he did what he did. But while Luka has been told why Adrien gave the advice he did, he doesn’t truly UNDERSTAND it - not yet.

The conversation he has with Kagami after Adrien leaves the room is particularly important, as it’s the start of his change in perspective.

Luka kept silent as Kagami kept her back to him. He needed to control himself but his rage flared up and... "I thought Marinette was your friend?"

"She is," Kagami confirmed. She felt her emotions surge forth despite her efforts and wondered if this was another effect of the dust. "So is Adrien."

"He hurt her!" Luka snapped.

"No, Lila did," Kagami corrected.

"How can you defend him?" He asked.

"How can you condemn him?" She countered.

"Just because he didn't have the guts to talk back to his old man-"

"I envy the people who have never been afraid of disagreeing with their parent."

"Everyone fights."

"Yes." Kagami hissed. "But not everyone is afraid of being placed under house arrest for voicing the wrong opinion. Not everyone worries the next less-than-perfect grade will result in their limited freedom being restricted! Not everyone needs an appointment to have a conversation with their own-" She cut herself off and took deep breaths to calm herself. (Chapter 6)

Luka’s still thinking of this as if HE was in the position Adrien was. If he told Anarka off, it’s doubtful that anything bad would happen to either himself or anyone he cared about as a consequence. If Luka’d been the one giving that advice, his reasoning would had to have been different because he doesn’t have to fear punishment the way Adrien does, and in his mind standing up to a parent, fighting with a parent, isn’t that big a deal, because for Luka it isn’t.

But Kagami takes the first step in breaking him out of that perspective, in opening his eyes to the fact that a lot of people, including herself and Adrien, don’t have such understanding parents, to check his privilege in that regard.

When Luka and Adrien meet up after they’ve both had chances to calm down, Luka’s still upset, but he’s calmer.

Adrien cleared his throat. "I... When Lila came back to school. I asked her to stop lying. She was akumatized immediately and the first thing she did was go after me. I didn't want the same thing to happen to Marinette... That's why I told her not to say anything." He turned his gaze to Sabine. "I was trying... to protect her the best way I knew how."

"You still could've said something to your friends," Luka muttered before he could restrain himself.

"Yes, thank you, Luka. I hadn't thought of that. Not like I've been beating myself up about it or anything," he snapped. (Chapter 6)

Luka has a point. It IS possible that this might’ve been avoided if Adrien had quietly talked to his friends about the Lila situation. Though they might not have been persuaded then either, not without firmer evidence to support his conviction that Lila was out-and-out lying. And that was the only thing he knew she was doing wrong; just that she was being untruthful, not that she was doing anything particularly malicious (not that he could say without sounding like he was blaming someone for getting akumatized at any rate).

In any case, they bury the hatchet for now and concentrate on solving the problem at hand: restoring Marinette back to her old self.

Their plans are thrown for a loop though when Gorizilla attacks, leading to a similar situation as the first time he attacked, with Adrien falling to the ground, unable to transform for fear of his identity being outed.

Adrien tumbled through the air, approaching the ground at breakneck speed. He resisted the urge to call for his transformation where the akumatized could see him. The unyielding concrete raced closer and-

A cyan blur caught Adrien before he hit the pavement. He quickly wrapped his arms around his rescuer. "... Please tell me you didn't use Second Chance?"

Viperion merely gripped him tighter.

Adrien swallowed. "Oh... I really hate dying."

Viperion landed on a rooftop and set Adrien down behind a chimney. "... Then why do you keep trading yourself for Ladybug?"

Adrien wasn't sure why the question irritated him so much. "I don't 'trade myself' for Ladybug. I 'trade myself' for Paris." (Chapter 7)

I really wish we had Luka’s perspective here, especially with him being the only person who experienced the earlier timeline before the Second Chance, the one where Adrien rammed into the sidewalk.

Luka’d just chastised him for supposedly being a coward, for not doing more for Marinette… and then almost immediately afterwards witnessed him die brutally in order to keep his secret, even though he had a chance to save himself, even though he was terrified. It serves as a stark reminder that NO, Adrien is definitely NOT a coward.

Side note: Luka really needs therapy after seeing that. That should really be mandatory for Snake users in general.

The bit about Adrien being annoyed with Luka saying he trades himself for Ladybug was a nice insight as well. Luka keeps on thinking of everything in terms of what Adrien can do for Marinette, for Ladybug - and to be fair Adrien DOES care about her a lot.

But he’s also a hero in his own right, and not everything he does is solely motivated by her. Nor does he only have value because of what he can do for Ladybug; as Chat Noir, one of his roles may be to protect her at all costs, but that doesn’t make him any less a Hero of Paris than Ladybug is.

I think this is another important perspective check for Luka. I mean, he asked Adrien why he keeps trading himself for Ladybug if he hates dying so much. It seems like he wasn’t really thinking about it in terms of it being a necessary thing that Chat does, but was thinking of it as more as just a duty, one that he wouldn’t be troubled by nor that deserves a second thought.

Which isn’t too different from earlier, with how Luka was thinking almost entirely in terms of the ultimate outcome of Lila’s efforts against Marinette, blaming Adrien without really thinking about what HE was going through.

But after seeing Adrien plummet to the ground and die, after holding him in his arms and seeing and hearing how Adrien’s scared of the prospect yet will do so willingly anyway, Luka would recalibrate his worldview I think.

Before he was just thinking of Adrien as existing for Marinette’s sake, was frustrated when he was afraid of putting himself in danger.

Now he seems to truly realize the kind of pain and suffering he goes through, puts himself through, and that it’s not something to just write off as Chat being a sacrifice, that… that he’s a person, a KID who’s scared and does it anyway.

That he needs to put himself in Adrien’s head more, to think about his emotional state, that he’s had it just as rough, even rougher, than Marinette has.

And then Luka finds out who Adrien’s father - the man he’d initially castigated Adrien for being afraid to go up against, who’d been the reason why Adrien thought it would be safer for Marinette to leave Lila alone rather than to go after her, because that’s how he’s survived living with his father - he finds out who he REALLY is.

That he’s more of a threat, a danger, than he’d ever imagined - that he was in fact the ultimate CAUSE of Marinette being akumatized, which was the event that caused him to be so pissed at Adrien in the first place.

Now Luka doesn’t actually get to react that much to the revelation - everyone else in the room, from Sabine to Nino to Kagami to Adrien, have closer ties to Adrien and more insight into just how horrible this revelation makes Gabriel, than he does.

But any conception that Adrien is in any way a coward or unreasonable for keeping his head down around his father? For fearing him, and carrying that fear, those survival mechanisms to other, at least vaguely similar situations? Would be gone now. It’s fortunate that Adrien’s managed as well as he has, with the situation he’s in.

And just to twist the screws, Viperion gets a taste of Princess Justice’s whip later on, forcing him to FEEL just what Adrien (along with many others) were feeling, as if he needed anything more to cement that Adrien’s feeling were valid, that they MATTERED.

Pain!

So much pain Viperion fell to his knees.

Despair sapped the conviction from his heart. Jealousy clouded his reason. Shame burned him!

Luka curled into a ball.

Not good enough! The emotions screeched. Never good enough!

A torrent of confusion, heartbreak and longing came from Marinette. Concern for him, suffocating and pervasive, rose from Juleka and his maman. Disappointment and anger, Kagami's, cut like her blade. Self-deprecation, self-doubt, self-loathing roared over the others from Adrien.

How does he stand it!?

Love and admiration and joy also surged forth with the waves of their feeling.

But they gave Luka no reprieve; merely added to the chaos of so many people weighing down on him.

Viperion clutched his head as the foreign sensations flooded him. (Chapter 11)

On top of feeling what Adrien’s going through, he later found out what had happened after he was incapacitated: that even though Adrien was struck with the whip too, even though Adrien’s got so much emotional baggage, so much trauma already - heck, maybe even BECAUSE he’s been through so much trauma that he’s used to it - Adrien STILL fights through it, defeating his father and saving his partner.

Luka ends up giving an acknowledgement of his misjudgement of Adrien in the understatement of the century:

"... My bro's really good at seeing the best in other people." It's himself Adrien has trouble with. "But hey, if I have to remind him how awesome he is every now and then that's cool." Nino shrugged with his arms. Helping out his bro wasn't a big deal.

"He's... more complicated than I thought." Luka felt embarrassment color his cheeks. (Chapter 15)

More privately he admitted that how he’d acted with Adrien right after finding out about Marinette’s akumatization was wrong.

Luka tried not to look at Marinette's hurt expression. Focusing instead on the approving look Kagami gave him... When did Kagami's opinion become important to him? Probably when she pointed out you were being a jerk. (Chapter 15)

I also appreciated a few smaller snippets of Luka’s character that slipped in, like Luka centering himself after he got upset with Adrien near the beginning, as if he’d had to do that many times before and was used to having to get himself under control (though usually doing that wasn’t so hard, since he wasn’t usually under the effects of an akuma), or in the last chapter, when he forces himself to think about what’s best for HIM, rather than what he thinks other people want - something that he’s evidently not used to.

Luka bit his lip, fingers itching for strings to play. Did he want this? Helping out a few times was different than a full time commitment. He looked at Marinette. Even the best of them could be overwhelmed.

He shook his head, attempting to clear it. Marinette said they could think on it. Did he want to do this for himself or for Marinette? That's what he needed to know. "Let me get back to you."

Spotting Kagami's elbow coming for his ribs Luka moved out of range. "It's a lot to process! I, um, need to decide for me." (Chapter 15)

I’m wondering whether this plays into how he seemed to think of Adrien as just existing as Marinette’s support before, without considering Adrien’s own mindset or feelings, because that’s the role that Luka usually occupies - a mindset that Kagami’s trying to help him to break out of.

Luka’s worldview seems to have expanded and turned on its head many times over the course of the story, and I just think it’s an impressive little character arc with a lot of potential, even with it being a fairly minor plotline running in the background.

[justthehiddleswrites]

Career Change | Adam x OFC (Charlie Bock ) | Chapter 1

Pairing: Adam x OFC (Charlie Bock)

Summary:  It has been three months since Adam rescued Charlie. Simone thinks it is time for Charlie to get back to some normalcy. Adam resist the change and Charlie has to break out the legal pad again.

Warnings: Eventual Smut, Fluff, Humor, mentions of past trauma, Post-Traumatic Stress Disorder - PTSD, Therapy, Panic Attacks

- 

“So Charlie, what are you doing with your time these days?” Simone asked with a soft smile.

Charlie didn’t answer. It was three months since Adam rescued her and two months of twice weekly counseling sessions with Simone.

“Well, I…” her voice trailed off as she racked her brain about the previous day’s activities. It was the same as any other day. She read a book, listened to Adam play, had sex, cooked some food, Adam fed, and slept.

“Charlie, when was the last time you went somewhere? Left the house?”

“I took the garbage out on Monday.” Charlie chimed in.

“You know that is not what I mean. What about the grocery store? You are eating, correct?”

Charlie bristled a bit at Simone’s question. “Yes.” she snapped, her fingers began fidgeting in front of her. “I have groceries delivered every week. Adam keeps an eye on me.”

I am sure he does, Simone thought.

Simone shifted her weight. “Let’s ask another way, what are you doing for work?”

“I work at the record store. I told you.”

“You worked at the record store. It’s been three months, Charlie.”

Charlie opened her mouth and then closed it. Her shoulders slumped. “I guess you’re right.” There was a bit of sadness. She would miss Mr. Simmons, but there a part of her never wanted to go back and remember and relive that last night working there.

“Did you really want to work there, anyway?”

“No.”

“So what do you want to do?”

“I guess I could find a job at a law firm in town.” She responded glumly. She slumped even further back.

“Don’t hold back on the enthusiasm there, Charlie. I can’t take it.” Simone’s dry humor helped put Charlie at ease with therapy. Charlie appreciated the way she prodded but didn’t demand and validate her feelings and never once made her feel stupid or silly or the worst, ignored. “It wasn’t the law you were passionate about, was it?”

Charlie shook her head. “No.”

“So I will ask again, what do you want to do?”

Charlie chewed on her lip, thinking. “I don’t know. I want to help people.”

“A noble goal.” Simone clicked a few keys on her computer before smiling. “Charlie, I am sending you some homework for our next session.”

Charlie perked up. “Okay. What is it?”

“An aptitude test. Now I was wondering if I could speak to Adam for a moment.”

Charlie paled and gulped. Simone didn’t even need to look at her to recognize what was going on.

“You’re not in trouble, Charlie. You have done nothing wrong. I promise. Can you please send in Adam?”

Charlie got up, smoothed down her pajama pants and popped her head into the bedroom where Adam lied on the bed, sprawled out.

“Adam?” His head popped up at Charlie’s voice.

“All done?”

“Simone wants to talk to you.” Charlie fidgeted. “Alone.”

“Me?” Adam rose from the bed. “Did she say why?”

“No.” her voice soft.

Adam kissed her forehead and smoothed back her hair, cupping her face. “I am sure everything is fine. I will be right back.”

Adam walked to the spare bedroom where Charlie goes for privacy on therapy days. He shut the door behind and took a seat in front of the computer. Simone was typing on her computer.

“Adam. Is Charlie there?”

“No. She’s in the bedroom. You wanted to talk to me alone?” Adam’s brow furrowed.

“I did, Adam. I’m going to be blunt. Charlie needs to leave the house.”

Adam blinked. “She leaves the house.” he lied.

“No, she doesn’t. She is not working, she doesn’t run errands, she doesn’t go anywhere.”

“She doesn’t need to. Groceries can be delivered.”

“True, but Charlie isn’t like you and me. She can and should go out in the daylight. She thrives on interaction. You have built her a cage.”

“I did not. Adam’s fists clenched to his side. “She hasn’t wanted to go out. She doesn’t feel safe.”

“That’s not true. Yes, she doesn’t want to disappoint you. You are the first person to love her as she is. She has had a lot of trauma in her young life. Neglectful parents, cruel siblings, unloyal friends, destructive relationships. You have no idea.”

“I have an inkling.”

“There is a lot she doesn’t tell you, Adam. She doesn’t want to be a burden.”

Adam’s head dropped. He never pushed on Charlie’s past. He now regretted it.

“Adam?” Simone snapped him back, seeing his mind wandering. “This isn’t your fault. Just like Eve’s death.”

Adam’s eyes narrowed to slits. “How do you know anything about that?”

“Stories get around plus Charlie may have made a comment or two.”

“Then you realize it is my fault. It was my turn! And I was too caught up in myself to be bothered. Too self-absorbed. So she went out instead. And now she’s dead.”

Adam’s hands twisted in front of him. Simone noted the mirroring behavior of Charlie’s own nervous tic.

“Adam. I met Eve. And she was smart. Not to mention well versed in your moods. She made a choice.”

Adam shrugged. “I still could have stopped her.”

Simone chuckled. “I highly doubt that. Not even on her worst day could anyone stop Eve once she set her mind to something.”

“And what does this have to do with Charlie?”

“You can’t bring Eve back by keeping Charlie caged up in a triple decker in Quincy. She needs to get back to a new normal. Which includes her leaving the house.”

Adam fell back onto the bed, covering his face before popping back up. “How can I help?”

“To begin with, stop ordering in. Groceries and food. Go at night with her at first if it makes you feel better. But she needs to get out now. And second, continue to encourage her to maintain her friendships. Finally, she needs to get a job.”

Adam’s eyes snapped to the screen. “I can provide for her.”

“A job is more than money, Adam. You know Charlie. She needs to feel useful. She needs to help people. Am I right?”

“Yes.” Adam agreed, albeit begrudgingly.

“I appreciate that. I recognize that was hard for you.” Adam gave a half smile. Simone rubbed her hands together. “That is all I needed to talk to you about today. Thank you for keeping an eye on her nutrition and oh, I almost forgot I am sending Charlie some homework for our next session on Monday. Make sure she gets it done over the weekend.”

“What is it?”

“An aptitude test.”

Adam rolled his eyes.

-

Adam paced the living room floor as Charlie hunched over the computer, sitting on the green velveteen sofa. He glowered every time he overheard the clicking of the mouse or Charlie chuckle.

“You realize those tests are complete horse shit?” Adam snapped, holding his chin between his thumb and index finger.

“Mmm hmm.” Charlie responded. Her eyes remained glued to the computer screen. Adam stopped pacing and dropped his hands to the side.

“Are you even listening to me, Charlie?” His eyes bore into her. She resisted the urge to turn and engage, determined to get the test done so she could enjoy her weekend.

“Yes.” She clicked to the next screen.

“Then what’s the last thing I said?” Adam moved to hover behind her at the end of the couch, squinting at the screen. Charlie lowered it.

“Do you mind? This is private.” She leaned her head back against the armrest of the sofa to stare up at Adam with wide green eyes. “And the last thing you said was ‘Then what’s the last thing I said?’ and ‘Are you even listening to me, Charlie?’ before that and ‘You realize those tests are complete horse shit?’ before that.” She parroted back to Adam in an exaggerated accent and slow speed, earning her an eye roll.

“Smartass.” He leaned down and kissed her lips. She responded with a quick peck to his lips. Adam turned and flopped onto the couch next to Charlie’s feet.

“Which is why I should be working. We can’t let this beautiful mind go to waste.” Charlie returned to the screen, reading the last few questions.

“You don’t need a test to tell you what you are good at.” Adam’s hand slipped up Charlie’s leg, teasing her inner thigh before she closed her legs. “I can tell you that. Although it has more to do with your beautiful body than your body.” Adam purred, continuing to tease his fingers up her leg.

Charlie glared at him from over her laptop. “Fucking vampires is not a marketable skill.” She clicked off the last question. “There, all done.”

Adam rolled onto his stomach and crawled up Charlie’s legs to lean over the laptop lid. “So what do the experts say you should do for a living?” He struggled to keep the disdain from his voice.

“I heard that.” Charlie deadpanned. Adam glared. “It says… I might do well as a… police officer.”

“No.”

“Who’s life is it?”

“Who saved that life?”

“Fair point. Massage therapist.”

“The only naked body you are touching is mine.” He pushed her legs back open.

“Possessive much, Adam? You can trust me.”

“It is not you I am worried about.” He ducked his head underneath Charlie’s grey robe, which used to be his. Adam’s lips traced the curve of Charlie’s thigh. She bit her lip to stifle a moan, trying to focus.

“Adam, please…” she whined, play kicking him with her foot.

“Please what… my love?” Adam nudged his nose closer and closer to Charlie’s core. As she turned to drop the laptop onto the floor, the next profession caught her eye.

“How about a phlebotomist?” Charlie quirked an eyebrow up, dropping the laptop gently to the floor.

Adam stopped his teasing and popped his head up from between Charlie’s legs.

“I’m listening.”

“It looks like about 2 months of in class instruction and then 250 hours of an externship at a hospital.” Adam pulled himself to lie between Charlie’s legs, his head on her stomach.

“Keep going.” He pulled the robe loose.

“I would have ready access to blood for you. I could help save lives, solve crimes, but I wouldn’t be out in the field.” Adam’s lips ghost along her stomach and hips.

“Hmm.” Adam lost interest again.

“Shit.” Charlie hissed. “The course costs about $1600. I guess I could take out a loan, put it on my credit card.”

Realizing Charlie was ignoring all of his attempts to get into her proverbial pants, Adam sat up and grabbed her feet, rubbing her ankles.

“Is this what you really want to do?” Adam squeezed her knee.

Charlie nodded, her hair bounced. She could feel her chest swelling and the wheels in her brain turning. “I could learn how to draw my own blood so you didn’t always have to feed on me. And I could work flexible hours, eventually. And I could help save lives instead of just pushing paper around.”

“You won’t change your mind in two weeks?”

Charlie swiped across her chest and held up two fingers. “Cross my heart and Scout’s honor.”

Adam’s chest rumbled. “Were you even a Girl Scout, darling?”

Charlie’s face darkened. “I got to go to one meeting. Janice left me behind for the next one and I never made it back. I didn’t get a chance to even earn a badge.” A small sniffle.

Adam leaned over to kiss her. “You would have been a wonderful Girl Scout. If it means that much to you, I can and will pay for the course.”

Charlie furrowed her brow. “I can’t take your money, Adam.”

Adam rolled his eyes. “Are we having this argument again, Charlie? The money is unimportant. Your happiness and well-being, however, is a precious commodity.” He pulled her onto his lap. “And I will pay any price for that.”

“Really?” Her face scrunched up in a big smile and Adam found it impossible to not smile back.

“Really.” He kissed her nose. “Now with that out of the way…” Adam’s lips ghosted down to catch hers, tugging on her lower lip. “… where was I?”

“Anyone ever called you a horny little devil?”

“Only you, my love.”

Charlie pushed his shirt off his arms. “Good.”

-

Later that Evening

“I’m waiting in the car.” Adam spun on the heel of his combat boot to head towards the automatic doors at the front of the Stop n Shop a few miles away from the house. Charlie snatched his gloved hand.

“And leave me all alone? And defenseless? You know the number one place women get abducted from is grocery store parking lots?” Charlie batted her eyelashes and stuck her lower lip out in an exaggerated pout. Adam recognized with 95% certainty Charlie wasn’t scared of being abducted again. The 5% kept him planted next to her, one hand on the grocery cart and one hand tightly gripping hers.

Adam sighed. “Where to, first?”

“Produce.” Charlie directed the cart straight ahead.

By the time they hit the cereal aisle, Charlie regretted guilting Adam to shopping with her. For one, the two of them look like two disparate halves of a Halloween costume couple missing their other half.

The stocking clerk’s eyes darted between Charlie in her candy red sweater and matching wool coat and Adam in his dusty black leather jacket with his sunglasses obscuring his eyes from the harsh fluorescent lighting of the store. Charlie half expected him to ask her if Adam was bothering her.

“You eat this?!” Adam gagged as he read the side of Charlie’s favorite cereal, Sugar Smacks. She snatched the box out of his hand and dropped it in the cart.

“You get one veto.” Charlie responded. “The cereal or the meat?”

Even though she couldn’t see, Charlie could tell Adam was glaring daggers at her underneath his sunglasses. She jutted her hip out and tapped her boot against the linoleum. Adam groaned, rolling his head back.

“Go get the meat.” Adam replaced the Sugar Smacks on the shelf while Charlie rushed to grab the flat iron steaks on sale and chicken breasts.

Two hours and a near fist fight over a pack of mint Oreos in Aisle 12, they were finally in the parking lot loading bags into the Jaguar’s trunk.

“You are never allowed to come into a grocery store with me again.” Charlie bemoaned.

“We need to talk about your eating habits, Charlie.” Adam slammed the Jaguar’s trunk closed. “Processed is not a food group.” He held the door open for her. Once she slid in, he shut the door and walked around to get in and start the car.

“While we are talking, let’s have a discussion about public etiquette. You can’t start telling everyone you pass that they are poisoning themselves. You nearly got us kicked out.”

“Too much?” Adam questioned with a straight face as they headed home.

Charlie held her thumb and index finger apart ever so slightly. “Just a bit.”

-

Two Weeks Later

“Bye Adam.” Charlie cooed at about 7 that morning. Adam groaned and pulled the pillow tighter around his head until he realized what she said.

He jolted upright and glared at Charlie, who was tugging on her boots.

“What do you mean ‘bye’? Where are you going?” His eyes narrowed.

“Class starts today. I told you this last week. Twice. And last night. Don’t you remember?”

“Were one or both of us naked at the time?”

“Probably.”

“Then no. I don’t remember.”

Charlie rolled her eyes as she grabbed her coat and hat. “Typical man.” She kissed him and Adam encircled his arms around her waist, pulling tight against him. The wool of her coat scratched his chest. “I’m going to be late for my first day.” Charlie muttered against his lips.

“Good.”

“Are you supposed to be supportive?” Charlie chided, and only then did Adam release her.

“Yes.” He pecked her lips before straightening her hat and pushing the now barely contained curls away from her face. “Call me when you get there.”

“Promise.” Charlie smiled and grabbed her bag.

“And when you leave!” Adam called out after her. Charlie waved at him without turning.

Adam fell back asleep for a bit, but then the silence of the house stirred him awake. He couldn’t remember the last time the house stood so still. Adam grew used to Charlie’s puttering around the kitchen or the soft sound of whatever garbage Top 40 pop song was stuck in her brain at the moment.

“Fuck.” Adam cursed as he heard his own thoughts rattling around. It was going to be a long 11 weeks.

-

Charlie dragged herself through the basement door as the sun set behind her. Her muscles ached, particularly her shoulder as her tote bag was ladened with heavy textbooks. She dropped it to the floor off to the side of the door. All she wanted was a hot shower, food, pajamas and the couch, not necessary in that order.

Adam laid sprawled on the sofa. He hadn’t even bothered to change his pajama bottoms.

“Are you ill?” Charlie asked, shoving his feet to the side to flop down.

Adam pulled his arm back from his face to gaze up from the couch. “No. I was bored. When did you get home? You didn’t call.” Adam groaned, his arm flopping back onto his face.

“Poor Adam. Stuck his home all by himself with his instruments, books, electronics, and lesbian porn. Whatever would have done with his day?” Charlie taunted, groaning, pulling off her boots and tugging off her coat. “My first day was great, thank you for asking.”

“Sorry. I missed you.”

Charlie sighed and crawled up to lie on top of Adam. She plucked his arm away and kissed his chin, then his cheek, then his nose, before finally kissing his lips. He wrapped his arms around her torso, squeezing her ribs tight.

“I missed you, darling.” She turned her head to press her ear to his chest. “I missed you so much.”

“I know.” Adam kissed her hair, his hands slid down to cup her ass.

“I’m taking a bath, want to join me?” Charlie wiggled her eyebrows.

“Yes.” Adam stood up and swung Charlie over his shoulder, fireman style.

“Put me down, Adam!” She pounded uselessly against his back.

“No.” Adam continued to walk towards the bathroom, bouncing Charlie with each step. He turned on the water and set Charlie down.

She punched him in the arm. “All the blood rushed to my head, Adam!”

“Good.” Adam pulled her sweater off over her head before pushing his pajamas bottoms to the floor, his cock already heavy. “More delicious.” His mouth immediately latched onto Charlie’s neck and bit down, taking a long draw of blood.

“You’re lucky I own turtlenecks.” Charlie grumbled, arching against him.

“Less talking.” Adam growled against her, taking another drink before licking against the wound. His expert fingers unhooked her bra, and it fell to the floor between them. Charlie fumbled with her jeans, pushing them down to her ankles before toeing them off along with her socks.

“Put in the soap I like.”

Adam grabbed a bottle of bath soap smelling of rum and squeezed a generous amount into the water before turning off the tap. He stepped into the tub first and offered his hand to Charlie for support. Adam situated them with his legs on either side of Charlie, his feet sticking out of the too small tub.

“We need a bigger tub.” Charlie giggled at his toes peeking out of the water.

“The tub is just fine.” Adam stated. He pressed his knuckles in a knot between Charlie’s shoulders.

“Fuck yes, Adam!” Charlie yelled, gripping the tub. Adam smirked as he worked out the knot and Charlie melted against his chest, breathing deeply. With his hands at her waist, he twisted her body to face him.

“Now…” He squeezed her tits. “… to work out all the kinks.” He rocked his hips against Charlie.

She lifted herself and impaled herself on Adam’s cock. He hissed as she wiggled her ass, settling in.

“You’re brutal, Charlie.”

“And you love me for it.” she breathed, bucking against him. His slippery hands grabbing her hips.

“I love you for more than that.” He rocked her on his lap. Charlie flattened her hand against his chest as her hips found a rhythm.

“I love you too.” She leaned down to kiss him. Charlie’s tongue explored Adam’s mouth with passion. Her release close.

“Adam…” Charlie panted. Adam took one of Charlie’s breasts into his mouth, sucking hard as he snapped against her.

Her back arched as she came, and Adam grunted as he soon followed. They slumped back into the now tepid bordering on cold water. Charlie sat up and then carefully stood, bracing herself against the wall before stepping out of the tub.

“Where are you going?” Adam asked, standing, sloshing water onto the tile.

Charlie wrapped the towel around her and tossed one to Adam.

“To get dressed.” Charlie stated, walking out of the bathroom. Adam followed her, dropping the towel unused.

“But I just went through all that trouble of taking them off the first time.” Adam whined, watching as Charlie pulled on her Pusheen pajamas. “I would prefer you naked.”

“I am not doing homework naked.”

Adam’s face scrunched up like Charlie said the filthiest thing you could imagine. Or sang.

“Homework?”

Charlie sighed and kissed him on the cheek, patting his chest.

“Yes homework. I intend on acing the final exam. You can join me on the sofa, if you can behave yourself. I would hate to break out our old rules.”

Adam groaned as he turned to join Charlie in the living room where he whined and moan the entire time.

[masked-buffoon]

Chapter 13: Filled emptiness (Part 1)

Warnings: mentions of human trafficking

Author notes: Hey everyone! I’l back with a new chapter...! I hope you’ll enjoy it as much as the previous ones!

Paperwork.

When I had entered the Armed Detective Agency, I had not expected that the major part of my work would consist in doing the paperwork. Arresting a criminal and solving mysteries was the core of our job as detectives, but filling the numerous documents demanded by the police or the court took a lot more time than running after the culprit. Obviously, back in the Port Mafia, I used to deal with paperwork as well, but it was not as prominent as it was in the Agency. It was… Exhausting, not to mention a certain person had never stopped slacking off. Becoming a detective had not changed Dazai's hate for work, most unfortunately for Kunikida, and even for me, whom he regularly used to take care of his documents. Even so, I was getting accustomed to my new life.

It had already been five month since I had officially become a detective, and I had, at last, successfully become a legal adult by reaching twenty-one years old. My ability was not too much of a bother anymore, since I could finally control it by myself, and getting to sleep on my own brought me more satisfaction than what I could have imagined. I had, at last, tamed the wild beat running around my mind. It was a victory I savoured everyday upon waking up, well-rested. Slowly, the bags under my eyes had faded away and my health had improved… If only the problem of my addiction had been solved as well. I would soon start my therapy, an attempt to separate myself from my dear morphine. I would be treated by Yosano-sensei, who had promised me a present as a way to encourage me. I still had a lot to work on to begin a normal life, but I was accompanied by the detectives of the Agency, whom I had started befriending.

"Hands up! Don't make a move — wait! Come here!"

I laughed. Kunikida had let the criminal run away…

"Don't mock me, Ogawa…! How could I predict he would climb up the wall behind him…?!"

"He is a skilled thief, after all. Remember when he stole that valuable painting exposed in the Art Museum?" I chucked.

"Whatever… Just stop him…!"

"I know, I know… It's all according to plan, though…~"

Our target was running towards my position, just as Dazai had predicted. For once, he had been willing to help us out with the case; that thief had been stealing in Yokohama for a month, at least. It had started with a rich wife's missing necklace. The police had given up, for there had not been any sign of break-in in the mansion. However, persuaded that it was impossible for her to lose her expensive diamond jewel, she had submitted a request to the Armed Detective Agency. At the moment, we had been so caught up with other demands from the government — protecting an important witness in a serial killer case was one of them — that we had overlooked the distressed woman's plea. However, just a week later, the Art Museum had also signalled a robbery during an important exhibition. A partnered museum in Europe had lent them a part of their collection, which included dozens of impressionism paintings. One of them was particularly precious and had required the installation of an advanced security system. The entire room had been protected by lasers and, as I had seen it, it was almost impossible for one to even male a step towards the painting. Almost. For an experienced thief who possessed the required physical capacity, it was not unfeasible. Our culprit would then be a rather thin person, perhaps smaller than average and with enough dexterity to accomplish such a feat. From that point on, I had asked the Fox to look for the thieves currently in action in the underworld. We had questioned all of those who had suited the profile we had established, but none had been involved with the robbery. He did not work for the underworld despite targeting such valuable objects. I had then established a list of the thefts which had happened since the diamond necklace — which we had remembered afterwards — and had discovered about ten resembling disappearances of jewels or pieces of art. The strangest thing about the thief was the fact he acted individually, for himself. He did not seem to belong to a group, nor did he appear to look for someone. He was simply… Enjoying himself while earning his life.

Seeing how unsuccessful we were and how many articles in the newspaper had appeared about him, we had thought about asking Ranpo-san for help. However, he had refused, stating we knew enough to catch the culprit ourself. And, indeed, there was a way to get to him, so simple that we had not even considered it; the auctions. With the image of the stolen painting in mind, Kunikida and I had visited different underground auctions, each time questioning the staff about the painting and bringing painful memories back to my mind. I had brushed them off, albeit hardly, and had focused on the case, ignoring the cages covered by a veil in the back of the room. No matter which place we had visited, they were always there, silent, ominous. My coworker had asked me about them.

"Their content goes against your entire ideal notebook…" I had answered, darkly.

"... Are they perhaps…"

"Slaves…" I had hissed "Products for human trafficking…"

"Why don't we arrest the culprits, then…?"

"Entire organisations are involved… Even the Port Mafia makes business with that…"

He had then stopped questioning me about that matter, most certainly noticing it was a sensitive subject.

At last, we had found the auction which had sold the painting. They had told us that the man who had brought them the item wore a mask, so they were unable to help us out. A week if research had been wasted on a useless lead, and we had gone back to square one. And just as we had considered abandoning and giving up on catching him, Dazai had come towards us, with an amused smile on his lips and a plan to finally put the thief in jail. Obviously, Kunikida had yelled at him, outraged that he had let us lose so much time instead of helping us out earlier. I had calmed him down and had asked my friend to explain to us his strategy.

Which had led us to the present situation.

The moment our target approached me, who was acting like the most normal civilian, I tripped him, simply. He had, without a doubt, not expected me to be on his way, and the single second he had lost because of me was enough for us to arrest him. With my brightest smile, I crouched next to him and offered him a hand.

"My apologies mister… Are you unharmed…?"

"I…" He blinked, before shaking his head and taking the hand I was offering him "I'm fine, thanks."

"You look as though someone is running after you." I giggled.

"That's…" I saw his faint blush "Kind of…"

I snickered, discreetly.

"Well… I fear you'll have to stop there."

"What —"

I closed the handcuffs around his wrist. At the same time, Kunikida arrived towards us, panting, and barely managed to speak.

"You… Are…" He breathed out "Under arrest…"

The plan had been successful. We had simply lured him out with another work of art — an antique Chinese vase. It had almost been disappointing how easily he had been trapped by the simplest strategy Dazai had ever come up with since I had known him, unworthy of the time we had spent trying to find the thief. Even so, it was still satisfying to finally see him climb in a police car with a frustrated expression.

"At least, we can get some sleep…!" I exclaimed.

"Indeed… Getting to close my eyes after that week is my greatest pleasure…" He yawned "That's so unlike me…"

"Mmh… It doesn't sound like you at all…" I noted.

"Hey~ That was a success…!" Dazai reached us, cheerful.

"That's not thanks to you." Our colleague groaned "You didn't do a thing…!"

"I established the plan, and kept an eye on you~"

"Whatever…"

"Now, we aren't going to argue, are we?" I stopped them "What about going back and resting? What does your schedule say, Kunikida?"

"Nothing…"

"Then let's leave…?"