#and they end up over the course of the series having several complex moments that result in uraraka realizing she's just another teen girl

[rotisseries]

i havent seen mha since i was like 13, is uraraka and blood girl yuri canon?

technically no but to me yeah it very much is but tragically

[flemingology]

L is for the way you look at me ─ alexia putellas x reader

part 1 of my l-o-v-e miniseries. full masterlist here!

in which: you meet Alexia through your work, but things take an unexpected turn

warnings: nothing i can think of, but there must be something with this being 9k words. so let me know if there's anything worth mentioning lol. fluffy though!

wc: 8.8k

an: put my whole writerussy in this series. it'll come out on a weekly basis, every sunday for the next 4 weeks. will run simultaneously with the rest of my christmas series! i hope you enjoy <3

Your tires kicked up some gravel as your car came to a halt on the parking spot next to the sports complex. You leaned your head back against the headrest and let out a deep sigh, letting the silence overcome you for a second. You bathed in the comfort of your own car and tried to come to your senses, before what would be one of the biggest moments in your professional career as an interior architect so far. Scratch that. Biggest moment, for sure. Nothing had ever been bigger or more important than this.

It was early January when you initially got the call from your boss. You were at home, working on some 3D blueprints for a new apartment complex that was being built in the city centre. Not your most exciting project, but that’s the price you paid for working in a metropolis like Barcelona. Deadlines coming thick and fast, it meant that you were severely overworked, but clients weren’t waiting. Residents weren’t waiting, either. So you worked. You worked early, worked late, worked at home, worked in the office. You’d always been career-oriented, though, so you were never going to complain, not with the opportunities your perseverance had given you already. But you wouldn’t have dared to dream about this next one, even in your wildest dreams.

Your phone shook you up from your thoughts, head deep in a few finishing touches on an elevator blueprint when your ringtone sounded through your apartment. You rolled and stretched your neck in a futile attempt to release some of the tension there, before picking up the device and bringing it to your ear.

“Y/n, I’m gonna get right down to business. I’ve got an opportunity for you that you’re not going to want to turn down.”

A combination of words you’d normally be very excited about, but with the amount of work you already had on your plate, you weren’t quite sure about that. Endless to-do lists were scattered around your apartment and you were already struggling to meet all the deadlines set, so taking something else up would definitely set you back for a good couple months on multiple projects. You pinched the bridge of your nose and took a deep breath before you replied, solely a hum.

“Look, I know you’re busy. You have a whole load on your plate right now, but if you take this, I’ll take care of the rest. We will redistribute the work. But this is once in a lifetime. And I want my best employee on it.”

You were taken aback by his words, your boss never one to willingly move work around from employee to employee once a project had been started. Your interest was piqued, so you decided to bite.

“Alright, you got me. Shoot.”

“We’ve been asked to design a new training complex for the Barcelona Women’s team.”

-

The best part of 8 months later, here you finally were. Sat outside the complex, in your car, taking a couple more moments before throwing yourself in the deep end. You had worked relentlessly on this project. If you thought you were working hard before, you’d found a new gear that left all your previous years in your professional career in the dust. You were the only designer on the project, meaning that a lot of the work fell on your shoulders and yours only in the initial phases of the process.

You were fatigued, from a lack of sleep as much as physically. You couldn’t remember how many all-nighters you pulled in trying to get the design over the line by the deadline. You experienced heightened anxiety and stress over the course of multiple months, only adding to the already overbearingly heavy weight on your shoulders. You got obsessive with it, as you always did, danced on the brink of a burn-out at some points, but you promised yourself it would pay off. Nothing would ever come close to the feeling of professional success. And you hoped, for the love of God, that you could deliver tonight. That everyone was happy with the complex, that your tour would go seamlessly, and that you had another thing to tick off in your long bucket-list of working as an interior architect. You took a couple more composing breaths in the driver seat of your car, checking your appearance a final time and attempted yourself at a pep-talk before you opened the door of your car and stepped out into the heat of the Spanish capital.

You’d seen it before, given the tour to your imaginary guests more often than you could count, but now, in Barcelona’s glistening afternoon sun, it really came into its own. The complex stands tall, but it exudes a sense of openness. It’s large, commanding, but not intimidating. Towering windows scratch across its surface, a feature that you’d grown to love across your visits to the facility. It allows plenty of natural light to pour in, the building strategically positioned so it would catch most of the afternoon sun. The entrance is wide, inviting, but nothing short of impressive. A set of smooth, glass doors that reach high, transparent so they give you a view of the lobby. The first feeling that comes over you is relief. You had seen the structure plenty of times, but with the prospect of having to guide the clients around later, it’s reassuring that you still feel excited and accomplished about your work. You approach the building, deciding to wait for the rest of your clients by the entrance.

You didn’t have to wait long, two black Cupras soon arriving at the facility after you made your way over. You weren’t fully aware how many people of the club were going to be present, but you’d tried to prepare yourself. Nine people though, that was kind of cutting it. Five people exited the first vehicle, another four quickly following short out of the other. Nine. If you weren’t nervous before, you surely were then.

The introductions went by in a flurry, but you tried your absolute best to remember the name and functions of every suited or dressed man or woman that had just shook your hand. Joan, president of the club. Pere, head coach. Marc, financial director. Lucia, facilities manager. There was one amongst them, though, that didn’t need an introduction. Not to you. Not to anyone. And really, it shouldn’t have been a surprise to you that they brought a player. If anyone has to approve of the facilities, it’s the players themselves.

“Alexia. Nice to meet you.” “Y/n. Likewise.”

She gave you a firm handshake, her eyes holding yours just a second too long, and you swear, you could feel it—that spark, that something. But before you could question it, she’d already let go of your hand and joined the rest of her people. You were well aware who she was, well aware of what she meant in the world of football, but you weren’t taken aback. It was nothing more than a crossover between two people doing their jobs, and you weren’t gonna have someone like her intimidate you and throw you off your path for the rest of the afternoon. Not with the importance of this project for the future of your career.

You clapped your hands when everyone seemed to have taken their first looks at the building from the inside. “Okay! Shall we?” You mustered up the brightest smile you had in your locker, silently wishing that the nerves would settle down as soon as you got into your element inside.

“Okay, so, the main entrance. I didn’t want to have too much going on in here, more going for a calm atmosphere. Reception in the middle, and then there’s really only one hall here, leading you towards the rest of the facility.”

The entrance was, as you described, calm. It had some lounge seats here and there but you couldn’t imagine many people spending lots of time here, so you kept the extras limited. A few acknowledging and appreciating hums from your tiny crowd sent you on your way, your nerves slowly but surely ebbing away.

You slowly guided your guests towards the hallway, letting them take in the interior and space for as long as they wanted until they seemed ready to continue the tour. “On the left, first and foremost, the changing room. I thought it was handy for it to be near the entrance, as most of the players probably come straight here after arriving.”

You push open the double doors to the room, stepping aside and allowing the others to step in first. “As you can see, a large and accordingly illuminated space with rows of lockers, personalized for each player. Each locker has a charging station, storage for gear, and adjustable lighting, because who doesn’t hate bad lighting when trying to focus before a game?”

For the first time during the tour, someone spoke up then, and it wasn’t who you’d expect to take the floor first. “I’ll admit, I’m guilty of using mine as a mini closet sometimes. Good call with the extra storage.” Alexia’s admission caused some lighthearted laughs and chatter to rise from the small group of people, and you almost felt grateful for her comment. “I’m glad.” You mustered up a small but sincere smile, before turning back around and continuing your work.

You gestured towards the wall that wasn’t adorned with lockers. “The screens on here are meant for displaying tactics, team news, and whatever else you guys get up to on a day-to-day basis.” You were really coming into yourself and started to forget about the nerves of the moment. You were in your element, you were doing what you liked, what you had been doing for the past 7 years of your life. You weren’t gonna mess this up.

“Of course, showers are tucked around the corner. Communal shower room, as I’m sure you’re all familiar with. Physio beds, and everything else you would need for pre-activation before training are around the other corner. To integrate some options for relaxation, there are also some sofas in that room. I don’t know to which extent they will be used, but they’re there.”

Right as you were about to lead the group back out towards the next room, Pere spoke up. “I like the adjustable lighting. I think it’s something we struggled with at our previous facility. It was quite bright, and sometimes that’s not the vibe you want to create for your players. They need calm, especially after a training session. Good work on that one.” The man offered you a sincere smile and rested his hand on your shoulder for a split second, and you felt all warm inside at the acknowledgement of your work. You took it in your stride and continued the tour.

“Taking a left outside the locker room and moving down the hallway, it’ll take you into the tactical room. Meeting room, briefing room, whatever you want to call it. This room is more dimly lit, with one singular big screen on the wall for video analysis, powerpoint presentations, and so on. I think there’s about 30 seats, but I wasn’t quite sure on how many there would need to be, so if you need any more I can take care of those too.”

Pere and Alexia shared a look, before letting you know that 30 would be enough. “Now, moving on through the room, I designed a second section with more of a discussion place in mind. I opted for a round table, rather than a rectangular shape, because I feel like it invites more participation. A couple whiteboards here and there, but I’m sure you guys will find your own ways to use this room to your own liking.”

“There’s one thing, though, and I’m quite proud of that, if I may say so myself. One of these walls,” you started, tapping your finger on the back wall of the discussion room, “is a writable wall. You can write, pin notes, whatever you might need to brainstorm about your tactics.”

Pere’s voice sounded through the room as you finished your explanation. “So, Ale, no more scribbling on napkins during tactical meetings, huh?” You finally realized why one of your colleagues on the project was adamant about a certain type of soundproof walls for the room, because you were now grateful for the great acoustics as Alexia’s laugh sounded through the place. Suddenly, you noticed that one of the chairs around the table was slightly out of place. Your need for perfectionism rose up and as much as you wanted to leave it, to not fuss about a small detail like that, you couldn’t help yourself.

“Sorry, this chair is bothering me. Details matter, especially in places like these. Athletes notice more than they think they do.” You didn’t direct your statement towards anyone, but weren’t exactly surprised either when you heard Alexia’s voice in response. “We do? I just thought we used these rooms to throw our stuff around,” the Spaniard said with an amused, infuriatingly attractive smirk on her face. It was your turn to laugh now, and you weren’t the only one grateful anymore for the acoustics of the room.

You answered a couple questions and scribbled down a couple more suggestions from the rest of the staff, before making your way out of the discussion room and moving back towards the hallway. “Now, crossing the hallway, this is the treatment room.” There’s a calm atmosphere in the room, the soft hum of the lights the only sound as your clients take in their surroundings. “Plenty of massage tables in the middle of the room, some more space for pre-activation, shelves stretched across the walls with recovery tools. Around the corner, there’s a multifunctional hydrotherapy pool and an ice bath. These adjustable lights mimic natural daylight to help with recovery. I wanted to create a space where your body and mind can unwind together.”

“I imagine you will spend lots of your time here,” you smiled, gesturing towards one of the women that presented herself as one of the club’s physiotherapists.

“Yeah, this will be my safe haven. It’s great, honestly, better than I ever imagined. I was thinking whether there was something missing, but I can’t think of anything. You did great work.” You shot the woman, whose name you’d already forgotten, a bright smile and thanked her for the compliment. The moment was soon lost on you as you heard someone clear their throat.

“Yes, Alexia?” It was the first time you’d called the Barcelona captain by her first name that afternoon, and you were surprised at the ease it rolled off your tongue with. If Alexia was taken aback, she didn’t show it. “I’m gonna be annoying for a second. Wouldn’t it be tough for someone injured to reach that?” She pointed at the top shelves, where some of the recovery tools were stacked. You took a moment to yourself to think about her comment, before giving her a slight smile and nodding. “You’re right, thank you for noticing that.” You took out your notepad and scribbled something down, adding an exclamation mark or 5 to convey the importance of the task. The rest of the group had already moved back to the hallway, leaving you and Alexia to yourself for a little moment. You didn’t know where the flurry of confidence came from, but you grabbed it with both hands before it could slip away, leading to your next comment. “Good catch, captain.” Alexia grinned, a twinkle in her eyes as she met yours.

“You’re the expert, not me.” “Well, you’re the professional footballer amongst the two of us, so I think I could learn a thing or two still about the design of team facilities.” “You’re doing more than a good job so far. I’m positively surprised.”

You got pulled back to reality when you heard a laugh coming through the door from the hallway, reminding you of the fact that you were still working, still having to uphold a professional persona and make sure that the tour went well. This wasn’t the time and place to be making much small talk, let alone flirting. Could you even call it that? “Let’s move on, yeah?”

You lead your clients down the hall, opening the double doors that would lead to the gym. The space was just as you’d imagined it, and hearing the noises of appreciation from the people behind you, you knew you’d done a good job.

“I think this speaks for itself, really. Not entirely my area of expertise, not really one for dumbbells or barbells, but I think I got everything covered here,” you chuckled. “Resistance machines, cardio equipment, dumbbells, barbells and kettlebells. There’s also an area for stretching and functional training near the back of the room. I wanted this to be big, spacious, allowing lots of natural light in, because I know half of the training days are spent here. People tend to forget that.” 

“Dios mio, Pere, if I’m ever missing, just come find me in here. This place is a dream come true,” you heard Alexia say from across the room, letting her eyes rake over the abundance of equipment that was scattered all around the gym. You crossed the room and joined her, following her movements with your eyes as she explored more of the gym. “I think this wall here needs some more Barca colors, no?” You scoffed and shook your head slightly, but pulled out your notepad nonetheless. “Noted, but I think you’re biased. Lucky for you, I like your bias.” Alexia tilted her head at that. “Does that mean I get to say in the rest of the design too?” You knew what she was doing. And it was so wrong for you to be giving into it in this professional context, but the woman across from you was enticing and you couldn’t help but be flattered at the way she seemed to be flirting with you. “Now, don’t push your luck, Putellas.” With that, you turned on your heels and made your way back towards the front of the room, not wanting to give Alexia the satisfaction of seeing the crimson red color your cheeks had turned at the small interaction.

“Well, I think we’ve got one final room, then.” You lead your guests back through the doors of the gym. “Taking a right here, you’ll end up in the team lounge. A cozy space for bonding, relaxing, whatever you guys want to do here. There’s a coffee station, entertainment options like games and a big screen, beanbags scattered around the room, but you can fill it in the way you want, really. There’s lots of flexibility with this space.”

“A coffee station? That’s going to make you a lot of friends around here,” the ever-familiar voice behind you commented. “Honestly, the caffeine might be the most important design element in this building.”

You pointed at the seating arrangement. “I went for modular sofas so you can switch between team bonding sessions and personal space. As I said, I went for flexibility here.” Pere caught up to where you were walking and put his hand on your shoulder, just as he did earlier during the tour. “You thought of all the details, huh? Most people wouldn’t notice things like that.” You shrugged off the compliment. “It’s all in the details, I bet you know that just as well as I do.” The coach let out a warm laugh and you couldn’t help but feel accomplished, it meant the world to you that him and one of the most important players in his team felt right within the facility and were impressed with your designs.

“As for different rooms, that was it for the tour. The pitches are outside, but there’s nothing special about those. Feel free to check them out if you want. I’m gonna let you all wander around a bit now, and if you have any questions or remarks, please come to me. I’m all ears and I’m very open to feedback. I hope you’re all satisfied, though, because this project meant a lot to me and I can’t begin to express how grateful I am to have received this opportunity.”

What happened next, was the last thing you’d expected. The room went silent for a second, until you could hear a couple slow claps sounding through the room. They came from Alexia, who was ushering the other people in the room to give you an applause. Her colleagues followed shortly, and soon the room was filled with the sound of their clapping, all smiling brightly at you and sharing laughs with one another. You felt grateful, overwhelmed by your emotions, but you felt a huge weight fall off your shoulders at the acknowledgement.

It wasn’t until a couple minutes later, that Alexia found herself next to you again. Most of the people had wandered back through the corridors, checking out the rooms at their own pace. “So, how long did it take you to design this?” Alexia fell in step with you as you walked through the gym, mustering up ideas for the remark the Spaniard gave you earlier. “Uh, about 4 months for the main sections, and then a few extra weeks for the final touches. And then, a waiting game while it was being built. It’s a bit of a balancing act, you know?” Alexia smiled faintly at you before responding. “I imagine. It sounds like a lot, but it seems like you’ve got everything under control.” “I try to.”

It was about half an hour later, when you all found yourself back at the entrance. You received another couple compliments from several staff members that had come along, and it felt like every single one bolstered your outside a bit more and more, upping your confidence with each one, taking them all in your stride. You’d been nervous for this, had worked countless hours, days, weeks on this project, but it all felt worth it. It was the biggest project you’d ever worked on, but it turned out perfectly and you couldn’t have wished for a better outcome.

The sun had started to set over Barcelona now, golden hour casting the building in rays of orange. It felt symbolic, a perfect ending to what had been a greatly successful afternoon. Alexia had noticed your passion for your work throughout the tour, and it was safe to say that she admired it. “You care a lot about getting things right, don’t you?” “Of course. It’s important.” “It feels right… you being here. You doing this. I feel like you understand this place.”

Alexia’s words came right from the heart, her voice growing soft as she uttered the final couple words, and you felt a fuzzy feeling coursing through your body at the admission. You raised your eyes at her, curious where the sudden comment had come from. Alexia picked up on this, explaining herself further.

“Your dedication to your work, it just resonates with my dedication to mine. The team’s dedication. It feels good, this.” You weren’t sure what she was talking about anymore, whether that be the building, your commitment, or just this–– the situation you two found yourself in at the moment. You’d tried to keep up your professional demeanor throughout the tour, but the more heartfelt comments Alexia threw your way, the harder you found it to keep up the snarky remarks or shrugging off whatever she said.

“I don’t know the word… it’s like when you do something that makes sense, like…” “Purpose?” “Yeah, purpose.”

Alexia grew bashful quickly, a shy smile covering her face. “Sorry, my English isn’t quite there yet.” You waved away her apology and were grateful for the change of tone in the conversation, not quite sure you would be able to keep up your persona had she gotten much more open with you.

“Look, I have to go now. I can sense Pero is growing impatient in the car. But, look, uhm, I like how you understand this place. Would you maybe,” she clears her throat and looks down to the ground before finishing her sentence, “want to grab a coffee with me sometime?”

You should’ve expected it, really. The way she was throwing not-so-subtle flirty remarks at you throughout the tour, her demeanor growing in confidence the longer time went on, you should’ve known this was coming. Still, it swept you completely off your feet, and quite frankly, speechless. There wasn’t a single cell in your body that thought of denying her request. But somewhere, in the back of your mind, a little rational voice sounded, saying that you had to be professional. This was your work, her work, and mixing work and dates was never a good idea. So you took a deep breath, meeting her eyes again before you gave her the answer she probably wouldn’t have expected.

“Alexia, I’d love to. But, this is a professional work context.” Alexia cocked an eyebrow at you, a small smile hinting on one corner of her mouth, and you couldn’t help the confusion that came across you. “Guapa, you are the one assuming that we are going on a date. I proposed it just to, you know, discuss insights about the building.” Your cheeks burned bright red at her words, and there was no way to escape the situation now. The taller woman in front of you let out a laugh, throwing her head back and if it weren’t for the twinkle of adoration in her eyes when her gaze met yours again, you would’ve thought she was laughing at you. “No, I get you. But look, I’ll make it worth your while. Just give me one chance, okay? You can’t deny the… how do you say, chemistry?” You nodded bashfully at the Spaniard, knowing she was completely right. You had tried your hardest to remain professional, but it grew harder and harder not to open up more of yourself to the footballer. “Look, if you don’t want a coffee, how about you come to the game tomorrow? You’ve done so much for us, you should come see what you’ve worked for these past couple months. My family can’t make it this week, so I’ve got plenty of tickets for you and anyone else you want to bring.”

That sounded like a better suggestion, all in all. If anything, you could now paint it down as just a friendly invitation to thank you for your work, and you didn’t have to think of it as a date. Although, even with what you said, you weren’t opposed to that idea either. “That sounds fair. You owe me a good performance, though” you quipped back, not letting her off the hook that easily. She had made you blush, but you weren’t gonna let her walk over you like that. “Only if you come to dinner after.” And just like that, she’d turned the whole situation around again. Infuriating. Infuriatingly attractive. “We’ll see.”

-

You struggle on deciding what to wear that day. Torn between trying to look put-together and not wanting to look like you’re trying too hard, you eventually settle on something practical but nice– enough to look professional, but not too casual. Because in the end, it’s just a game, right? Just Alexia Putellas casually inviting you to see her in her element, no big deal. And dinner. Maybe.

The journey to the stadium went smoother than expected. You’d left more than early enough, and had just about beat the flurry of afternoon traffic, as you arrived at Estadi Johan Cruyff. This is as far as outsides of comfort zones went. This was not your usual surroundings. You were a homebody, either working or relaxing, you weren’t one for the big events. Let alone sporting events. You weren’t at home in this setting, but you couldn’t help but feel an excitement bubbling up inside you as you noticed the heaps of fans dressed in blaugrana jerseys, waving flags and scarves, all coming to see their idols on a sunbathed afternoon in the Spanish capital. Nerves bubble up the closer you get to the stadium, and you tried to ground yourself by taking a couple deep breaths before taking the plunge.

You’d remembered the instructions Alexia sent you over text on how to get to her friends and family box. She asked for your number at some point that day before, and brushed it off as practicality for today’s game, but you knew somewhere that that wasn’t the last time you’d hear of her. The moment you arrive in her box overwhelms you. There’s a couple other people, and you get a sudden burst of nerves thinking about having to introduce you as… well, as what? The interior architect of her new team facilities? You were well aware of how weird that sounded. But they paid you no mind, so you thanked your lucky stars when you found your seat without all too much fuss and settled down for the next couple hours.

The crowd, the noise, there was a buzzing atmosphere around the stadium and it was such a stark contrast to the environment you’d been in yesterday. The stadium felt alive. As much as you weren’t a football or sports fan in general, you finally understood why people liked going to games. You took in your environment, scanning the crowd. A man singing at the top of his lungs, seemingly the person that needed to get the chants going. A little girl in a jersey three sizes too big, on her father’s shoulders, holding a sign that said: “Alexia, mi heroina”. A group of teenagers finding their seats right underneath the box, faces painted with stripes, yelling things you didn’t quite understand, because God forbid you were consistent with your Spanish classes. A mixed smell of popcorn, churros and questionable hotdogs suddenly hit you like a wall. It was chaos, but it seemed like the people here thrived on it. Suddenly, you couldn’t believe having missed out on this element of the city for so long. Of course, you were well aware that Barcelona had two successful, thriving first teams. You just couldn’t be bothered. Now, though, it felt like your whole world had turned upside down at the revelation of how fun this was.

As much as Alexia insisted on you bringing someone, for your own company, you didn’t. It felt too much like using her, not wanting to overstep boundaries on this first meeting. Second, in theory. But now, as you were sat here in the stadium, crowd so loud their hum vibrated in your chest, maybe you wouldn’t have minded someone else here to share the experience with. Then again, bringing someone would’ve made this feel more like a… thing. And you didn’t know whether you were ready to accept this being a thing, yet. Your thoughts circled back to Alexia, the woman you were here for in the first place. Would she be nervous now? Of course not. She was in the locker room right now, already zoned in and focused. Professional. Unlike you, who was sitting here, overthinking what a stupid invitation to a game might mean. Still, there was something about being here– her stadium, her world, that made you feel closer to her. Like it was a glimpse into the pieces of herself she didn’t give away so easily. They were all here for her, but you were invited by her. It felt different.

What you didn’t expect, at all, was your phone to chime with a message from her.

From: Alexia You here yet?

You quickly typed back a response, figuring she didn’t have much time to be on her phone. They were due for warm-ups anytime soon now.

To: Alexia: Yeah, just found my seat. Thank you :) It’s chaos out here, damn

From: Alexia Good chaos. You’ll see. Enjoy it, I’ll find you after

It’s as if Alexia’s words had a soothing effect on you, because as soon as you tucked your phone back away you relaxed, sitting back against your seat and letting the experience roll over you.

The Barca girls came out for warm-ups, and you couldn’t help but admire them. The players moved across the pitch with this kind of effortless precision that made it all look simple, though you knew it wasn’t. You couldn’t tell who was who at first, not even you lack of football knowledge, but there were so many of them, a blur of navy shorts and bright orange bibs weaving in and out of each other as the ball zipped between them.

You weren’t looking for her. At least, you told yourself you weren’t. But somehow, your eyes kept finding her anyway. You caught a flash of blonde hair and noticed the distinctive way she carried herself on the pitch. She wasn’t doing anything else than the others– passing, moving, stretching. But she stood out. There was something about her, even from a distance, a pull you couldn’t quite explain. It was like your eyes gravitated towards her naturally, without you guiding them. 

The Alexia you’d walked the tour with, who’d thrown you teasing smiles and leaned a little too close when you said goodbye, was gone. Out here, she was something entirely different– serious, focused, untouchable. She hadn’t looked up once, her eyes not searching yours, and you would feel apprehensive about it if you didn’t remember the look she had in her eyes when she invited you. After all, why would she? She had a job to do. This was her thing, as much as yesterday was yours.

You weren’t the only one watching her, obviously. You could hear little bursts of her name from the fans sitting nearby, the occasional shriek of excitement when she touched the ball during a drill. She was theirs and they were hers in a way I couldn’t quite wrap my head around, but it was beautiful. Alexia is Barca and Barca is Alexia, right?

It wasn’t long then until the game started, you got lost in your own thoughts a little bit and you were now mere seconds away from kick-off. The pitch looked impossibly green under the floodlights– that were turned on way too early, but you guessed it was better to be safe than sorry. Players were scattered around it, waiting for the signal from the referee that they could get their game going. The energy of the crowd built like a wave, rolling through the stands. People were on their feet, clapping, yelling. You didn’t know the chants, but you felt a tingle inside of you urging you to clap along, the energy of the crowd too enticing not to.

As the whistle blew to signal kick-off, the energy in the stadium shifted. You didn’t expect it to hit you like that, the way the crowd seemed to breathe, shift, move as one organism. It was overwhelming in the best way. You weren’t here to watch anyone in particular, you told yourself. You were just going to enjoy the experience, the place, to see it all in action. But once again, as soon as the ball was in play, you found yourself watching her. Tracking the way she moved, the way she gracefully handled the ball, the way she always seemed two steps ahead of everyone else.

Out here, she was undeniable. There was a precision to the way she played, a quiet authority that made it impossible to look away. It wasn’t just that she was good– and realistically, that played a huge part, it was the way she made everything look so effortless, like she’d orchestrated the entire game in her head before anyone else knew what was happening.

You were deep into the first half when the play stalled, and for the first time all game, the noise of the crowd dulled in your ears. Alexia was in the middle of the action, barking instructions to her teammates– sharp, no-nonsense commands you couldn’t hear from up there but you could feel all the same. Her gestures were deliberate, decisive, and when she pointed towards the flank, her teammates took off without hesitation.

There was something magnetic about it, about the way she owned the field without ever raising her voice too much, the way her team fell in line like clockwork because she was the one pulling the strings. Captain’s armband snug around her bicep, confidence looked good on her. It wasn’t flashy or loud, but it was undeniable.

Your eyes lingered on her a little longer than they should have, when play resumed. The way her jersey clung to her shoulders and arms wasn’t helping either. You shifted in your seat, tearing your gaze away, but the thought was already there, uninvited and impossible to ignore. You’d listen to whatever she told you to do too.

Heat rushed to your face at the realization so quickly it nearly made you feel dizzy. Nope. Absolutely not. You took a deep breath and focused back on the game, on the fluid football that was being portrayed by the girls in blaugrana. Professional. You are professional. And you are definitely not thinking about what it would be like to hear that voice closer. Louder. DIrected at you.

Saved by the bell. Or the half-time whistle. Saved by something, thank God. That’s what you thought. As the players made their way toward the tunnel, your eyes found her again. She was talking to one of her teammates, gesturing animatedly about something, but just before she disappeared into the tunnel, she glanced towards her box. It was quick, so quick you almost missed it, but your heart skipped a beat anyway. You told yourself she wasn’t looking for you. Why would she?

During half-time, a kid sitting a couple rows in front of you caught your eye. He was shouting all of the players names, his little voice full of excitement. He was waving a jersey, one with the number 4 on the back, and even though they couldn’t hear him right now, tucked away in the building, it struck you how loved they all were. How much they all meant to these people. You caught yourself smiling at the kid’s enthusiasm. At the player’s impact. It was hard not to feel drawn into it.

The second half went by quicker than the first. You’d settled, and you were starting to feel more like yourself the more time went on. Barcelona scored thrice in the second half, effectively beating their opponents 3-0. Alexia hadn’t scored, but she’d assisted the final goal and you felt a weird sense of pride overcome you as her cross was headed in by one of her teammates. The final whistle pierced the air, and with it came an eruption of cheers from the stands. Another win, another three points, and they deserved every ounce of the applause raining down on them.

Alexia didn’t jump into the celebration like some of her teammates did, instead staying composed as she clapped for the fans along with her friends, her captain’s demeanor shining through even in victory. For a second, she looked toward the family box, her gaze skimming across the seats. You thought to yourself that she might be looking for you, but as soon as it arose, you brushed it away, even though your stomach fluttered at the thought.

And then, like she’d heard your internal thoughts, answering the unspoken question, she lifted a hand in a small wave. Subtle, unnoticeable for anyone that wasn’t watching, but it was definitely there. You gave her a small wave back, and you wondered if anyone had noticed the small interaction between the two of you. This wasn’t the time to raise any suspicions, and even though no one’s eyes were on you, you felt like a spotlight had just been shone directly on you. You thought that was gonna be it, but then she stepped away from the group of her teammates for a second, and made a phonecall motion with her hands. You gave her a thumbs up in response, in hindsight probably not the most flattering thing, but it would do the job.

It wasn’t long after the team disappeared back into the tunnel that your phone buzzed in the pocket of your jacket.

From: Alexia I’m gonna get a quick shower, but I want to see you :) Meet me outside by the parking lot in 20 minutes?

A bashful smile grew on your face as you read her text, the casual tone doing little to mask the effect it had on you.

To: Alexia Yes, of course! Just gotta tell me how to get there

Alexia sent you on your way with a couple directions and off you went, not bothering to wait another 20 minutes in your seat, trying to avoid any possibility of you being late in the parking lot. The chill of the evening air hit you as you stepped outside of the stadium, as if inside there was a personal bubble of warmth created for the team. You crossed the main parking lot, that was surprisingly quiet. Most fans still lingering inside or making their way out through the main exits.

Your heart pounded in your chest as you approached the meeting spot, a secluded parking are for the players. It was even quieter there, and every little sound seemed amplified in your ears.

Alexia took 17 minutes after sending you her post-match text. Not that you had been counting, or anything. She stepped out of the building, freshly showered and dressed in a Barca tracksuit. Her confident and vibrant energy from the pitch faltered slightly, but you still warmed up at the sight of her. Her hair still damp from her shower, duffle bag slung over her shoulder, walking over to you with an easy stride, as if she’d done this a thousand times before. She broke out in a wide smile as she approached you.

“Hey,” she started, her voice low and warm, “thanks for waiting.” You chuckled and waved away her comment, a little awkward silence forming between the two of you that you tried not to get in your head about, before making a remark about the game. “You played well. All of you, really. It was… impressive to watch. Thank you for the ticket.”

“Are you saying that because you mean it, or because I’m standing here?” Alexia teased. She hadn’t changed a single thing from her demeanor yesterday, still as flirty and making teasing remarks. “Maybe both.” Alexia let out a soft laugh, and even without soundproof walls and good acoustics, it still wrapped around you like a warm blanket in the chilly evening air.

She grew sincere then, her eyes softening a bit. “Hey, thanks for coming. I wasn’t sure you would.” You were taken aback a little by her words, a little sense of insecurity creeping through her voice. “Honestly, for a long time I wasn’t sure either, but I’m glad I did. It just… didn’t know if I should.” The Barcelona captain frowned at that, tilting her head slightly. “Why not?” You knew the question was coming, so you shrugged and gave her your response with a small smile on your face.

“Maybe because this feels… I don’t know, different? You’re… you.” “I’m me?” “You’re Alexia Putellas. Everyone in that stadium was looking at you tonight. And now here I am, standing in a parking lot with you, wondering why you’d want to see me of all people.” “And yet, here you are. Doesn’t that say something?”

You locked eyes for a moment, a brief pause in the conversation and the air between you both changed with unspoken words. Alexia’s expression softens further, her confident demeanor giving way for something vulnerable, something you hadn’t seen about her yet.

“Maybe I don’t want to be Alexia Putellas all the time, you know? It gets quite tiring.” Alexia said quietly. You were caught off guard, but composed yourself quickly. “That’s not an easy thing to ask with your career, captain.” You chuckled quietly, but grew quiet as you noticed the sincerity in her voice. “Look, I know we barely know each other. But I think you’re the kind of person who could see me for who I am, not just the name, the number or the captain’s armband. I feel drawn to you, and that doesn’t happen often. And I know you feel it too. I can tell by the way you look at me.”

“That’s… a lot, Alexia.” You hesitated, meeting her eyes again. “Thank you for being so open and honest with me. You’re right, I feel it too. But I don’t know if I’m the kind of person you think I am. I mean… you’re you, and…” you trailed off, but you were sure she understood what you were trying to say.

“And you’re you. That’s exactly why I’m standing here right now. Why I invited you today. Why I asked you to come to the parking lot.” Her words helped you ease a little further, but not all the apprehension had worn off and she could tell. “Tell you what, let me prove it to you. Dinner? No pressure. Just food, conversation, and maybe some embarrassing stories about my teammates.” A hopeful smile grew on her face after her words and you couldn’t hold back the chuckle that escaped your lips as you listened to her. “You know how to sell an offer, don’t you?”

“I’ve got plenty. Trust me, it’ll be worth it.” “Hmm, I don’t know. Feels like you’re trying too hard to convince me.” “Trying too hard? I thought I was being charming!” “Debatable.” “Come on, let me in tonight. That’s all I’m asking for.” “Fine. But only because I’m curious about these embarrassing stories.” “Fair enough.”

-

The restaurant is small but elegant, tucked away in a quieter part of the city. Twinkling string lights frame the windows, and a gold sign with cursive lettering displays the name. It was perfect, really, and you could see why Alexia liked coming here, especially after busy days like today.

The warm lighting inside created the perfect cozy atmosphere that would allow you both to unwind from the day. There were candles on every table, casting soft shadows on the walls, and there was a tinge of jazz to be heard in the background. It’s intimate but not overly formal, just right for a dinner that was toeing the line between casual and romantic.

“You’ve got good taste in restaurants,” you said, after hanging your jacket over your chair and sitting down. “Good food is one of the few indulgences I allow myself during the season. Though I have to be careful not to overdo it.” You smirked, deciding that you could tease her a little further. “You mean you don’t carb-load on patatas bravas before every match?” Alexia laughed at that, throwing her head back slightly. “I wish. I’d run for ten minutes and then need a sub.”

You indulge yourself in the menu for a second, eventually settling on and ordering a seafood risotto and a glass of white wine. Alexia ordered grilled chicken with roasted vegetables, paired with a glass of red.

You feel hyper-aware of every small detail about Alexia while you wait for your food. The way she leans forward when she speaks, the gestures she makes with her hands, the warmth in her eyes. You’re overwhelmed, in the best possible way.

“So, Putellas, do you always bring strangers here, or should I feel special?” You challenged, taking a sip from the glass of wine that was just brought to you by one of the waiters. Alexia feigned annoyance, placing a hand over her chest where her heart was. Nonetheless, her face turned into a grin soon.

“Special. But don’t let it get to your head. I needed to bribe you into liking me somehow.” “Oh, so this is a bribe?” “What can I say? I’m better with my feet than my words”

Dinner goes by smoothly, and your conversation flows easily from one topic to the other. You cover your family, Alexia’s way into football, what she’s thinking of doing after football, your hobbies, your youth, but it’s when the topic of your work is being brought up that you grow apprehensive. Alexia noticed the unease that came from you after she brought it up, and tried to reassure you.

“You know, I like hearing about your work. It’s part of who you are,” she tried. If there was one thing that you’d not gotten over yet, it’s that you met Alexia through a work context. Deep down, there were more than rational thoughts telling you that that was completely okay, it happened all the time, but with how focused you are on your image and your professional career, you had a hard time dropping the apprehension. So you paused for a second, and then spoke up softly. “But that’s the thing. I feel like I need to keep it separate. Like if I start talking too much about it, I’ll ruin this… whatever this is.” Alexia leant forward at that, like she had the tendency to do quite often you’d grown to learn. “And what do you think this is?” You met her eyes, trying to feign indifference by shrugging. “I don’t know. Something new, something unexpected.”

“Well, maybe unexpected is good. You don’t have to keep everything separate, you know. I like knowing more about you. All of you.” “Careful, I might start talking about zoning laws and blueprints.” “I’ll risk it. Besides, more fuel for me to tease you with.”

There’s a little more hesitance in your eyes, and Alexia wants to get rid of it. “Tonight, I’m not Alexia Putellas. I’m Alexia, Ale. That’s all I want to be now.” And really, how could you stay professional with someone who looked at you like that, as if they’re seeing something no one else ever had?

“I don’t usually do this either, you know? Going for dinner with someone I barely know.” Alexia speaks up after a while of comfortable silence. “Then why now?” You asked, not sure whether you really wanted to hear the answer, knowing it would only put your further into a pit of unfamiliar feelings that was growing deeper and deeper with each passing minute of sitting across the infatuating Spanish captain. “Because you feel different. I’m not sure how to explain it, but I feel like you see me. Not the player, just me.”

The night went on without too many hiccups from then on. It was only when the time came to pay, that some more teasing was thrown around. “You’ve got that look on your face. You’re going to pay, aren’t you.” You cocked an eyebrow at the women across you who was sporting a bright smile. “You caught me.” You sighed, rolling your eyes briefly. “At least let me cover dessert.”

“How about this; you get dessert next time.” “Next time? You’re confident.” “Maybe. But I’m not doubting anything.”

As you step out the restaurant, Alexia offers you her jacket when she notices you shivering in the chilly air of Barcelona. Your fingers brush as she helps you into it, and for a moment, they linger. “This was nice. I’m glad you said yes.” Her voice barely above a whisper, as if the intimacy of the evening had softened her voice. “Me too. I wasn’t sure what to expect, but… I had a really great time. Sorry for my apprehension.” “Don’t apologise. And good, because I’d like to do this again. Soon.”

For a moment, Alexia looked at you, her eyes lingering on yours like she was memorizing something important. And then she leaned in, so slowly that you could feel your heart pound in anticipation. Her lips brushed your cheek, featherlight and warm, lingering just enough to make your breath hitch. It wasn’t hurried, it was deliberate, full of quiet meaning.

Your skin tingled where she’d kissed you, and a rush of warmth spread from your chest all the way to your fingertips. It was a simple gesture, nothing more than a small brush of her lips against your cheek, but it left you feeling all kinds of ways. Ways that you weren’t prepared for, and your growing adoration for her hit you in the face once more.

When she pulled back, Alexia’s eyes searched yours for a reaction, her own cheeks tinged pink in the glow of the streetlight. Your voice felt caught in your throat, but your heart spoke louder. You knew then, without a doubt, that this was more than just a fleeting connection.

[rabarbarzcukrem]

The eternal opposing relationship between the two sides of a mirror

or: In defense of Shiori

I feel like Shiori is one of the most controversial characters in Utena. Some love her, others despise her. And I don't have a problem with people having strong opinions on her character. What bothers me is the tendency to exaggerate her most negative traits, focus on her most harmful actions, completely ignore any redeeming qualities she might have and then paint her as a one dimensional villainous caricature, a mean straight girl who plays with the lesbian's feelings for the sake of it, without anything deeper going on.

I'm aware of the fact that some people refer to her like that in endearment or in a satirical fashion, and I'm not saying that you can't consider her your favorite problematic evil girl representation. I'm only trying to make people realize that it's her complexity that actually makes her such a compelling character.

I've seen people call Shiori all sorts of names, some of which were baffling enough to make me wonder if they even remembered what happens in the show, and weren't just judging a version of the character that they made up in their head.

So, let's look at the things Shiori actually does, throughout the course of the story.

Disclaimer: I'm only going to take the series into the account here, because I think we can all agree that everyone's characterization and personality differs at least slightly in the movie. Background characters also get a lot less screen time to explain their motivations in order to fully focus on Anthy's journey and struggles, which is understandable.

1. She "steals" the boy from Juri.

This is her biggest crime, which seems to define her from the very beginning. Even though Juri didn't actually have any romantic feelings for him, this action is detrimental to their relationship - it breaks the trio apart, isolates Juri from the pair, is an act of betrayal against her and proves it was done with full awareness that it would hurt Juri emotionally.

Shiori is a deeply insecure person, who constantly feels inadequate and beneath other people. The only reason why Juri seemed to actually like her that Shiori could think of was pity, and even when she found out she was the object of her romantic affection all along, she still struggled to comprehend it. Her self loathing and constant perceived inferiority make her desperate to gain any sort of control over her life and relationships, but they're also the exact reason she feels that the only way she could ever do that is by hurting others. She's always one step below and incapable of crossing that distance, therefore the only way to become equal to people is to bring them down to her level, by humiliation.

When she "steals" the boy from Juri, she achieves that. For a moment, she feels good about herself and leaves Ohtori thinking that she has found the answer, the solution. But she's wrong. From that moment on, it becomes more and more apparent to her that what she did was never out of love for the boy, even though she doesn't let herself acknowledge it fully. Because the truth is, Shiori actually regrets hurting Juri, which she admits herself during her elevator confession.

When the guilt starts getting to her, her confidence high wears off, and she ends up feeling ever worse.

That's why she breaks up with him and comes back. She's not ready to leave yet, not ready to progress. There's still something binding her to Ohtori - Juri, and Shiori's unresolved feelings for her.

2. She tries to set things right with Juri and to fix their relationship.

Even though at this point Shiori still thinks that Juri only ever associated herself with her out of pity, she still makes several attempts to get closer to Juri, who understandably (albeit coldly) turns her down ever time. This is a very clear sign of conflicting feelings Shiori has for Juri - jealousy and admiration, resentment and longing, hate and love. After all, Shiori admits that the two practically grew up together. Their friendship may have always felt fake to Shiori, but she clearly cherished it deeply.

3. The Black Rose Arc.

First of all, we should establish what is the purpose of this arc and how it functions. It explores the motivations of background characters and shows their worst side to the audience. The characters that end up in the elevator are the most unstable, vulnerable ones, with the least power in the system, in unequal and/or exploitive relationships with the duelists and their agency under threat. Mikage offers them a way to gain that power by making them follow their most toxic, negative emotions. And despite all other characters doing exactly that, from what I've seen Shiori is the one that gets the most hate for it. I don't think she should be judged any harsher for what she did under the influence of the black rose than, let's say, Wakaba or Kozue. Especially because the reason all of them ended up in that elevator is because they recognized that these urges were harmful and were seeking help and counseling.

What this arc does do is reveal how Shiori's inferiority complex drives her to act against her own desires. Even though she longs for things to be different, even though she is not happy at all with how her relationship with Juri looks like, she is unable to fix it, because that would require her to consider her own affection for Juri. And she can't do that, because it would mean admitting that she's not stronger than Juri, that she hasn't beaten her, that she's doesn't have control and an advantage over her. Although she tries to keep up this smug, self-assured facade, the reality shines through.

They key to understanding Shiori is noticing that she specifically doesn't want to acknowledge that Juri's feelings are reciprocated, and the obsession is mutual. If you paint their relationship as one sided, you're actually falling for her act.

4. She enters a relationship with Ruka.

Ruka is a handsome (arguable), respected boy who appears out of nowhere and starts showing interest in Shiori. It's obvious that for an insecure girl, who in addition struggles with confusing repressed feelings, this would be something unthinkably wonderful. The affection and praise she gets from him is exactly what her low self-esteem craves. You might be wondering why she didn't perceive Juri's feelings for her in the same way. And a part of the answer might be that, post nameless-boy-incident, Juri was nothing but cold to her. She might have been pining after Shiori from afar, but in the end she's distant and untouchable, and they're divided by their messy past. Meanwhile Ruka is a clean slate, seems openly affectionate, engaged in their relationship and he pays attention to her. But I think the main thing that makes Ruka so different from Juri is the fact that...he's a boy. Because, as Revolutionary Girl Utena establishes, gender plays a crucial role in interpersonal dynamics. Attention from a boy is fundamentally coded as romantic, desirable, necessary and most importantly: increases the girl's worth in society's eyes. It makes one a princess. Meanwhile Juri's advances could only be seen as an invitation to friendship, at best. But Juri's status and beauty make her special, while Shiori is not. Therefore, it can only be pity and mockery.

Of course, Ruka only uses Shiori to influence Juri and dumps her as soon as he achieves his goals. It's true that Shiori could have listened to Juri's warnings, but then again... why should she? From her perspective, Juri's her ex-friend that doesn't want anything to do with her, who only suddenly comes to Shiori when she's finally happy and fulfilled, and encourages her to end it. She doesn't know the wider context of the situation, nor does she remember the Black Rose arc. Juri's warnings don't sound sincere to her.

And so, Ruka gets rid of her in the coldest, most indifferent way, not explaining anything or showing even the slightest sign of compassion. Before that though, he makes an interesting remark, about Shiori putting on an act and polishing somebody else's sword.

Honestly, I don't really know how to interpret it in any other way than Shiori actually having feelings for someone else, despite trying her hardest to conceal it. Are my shipping lenses not allowing me to see any different possibilities? Am I going crazy? I don't know.

Nevertheless, Shiori begs him to stay, devastated. Her life got turned around so suddenly, she found appreciation, status, comfort and stability, and now all that's been taken away from her as abruptly as it was given. It's a public humiliation.

I once heard someone say that this would be the perfect moment for Juri to step in and defend her. And to be honest, although it may be true, I'm not completely sure. It may have been the one display of open care that Shiori needed from her, but it might as well have been interpreted by Shiori as Juri affirming her superiority over her and feeling sorry for her again. We will never know. In my opinion, so much of their relationship is going on in their own heads that the only thing that could ever cause positive progress is communication (which neither of them seem to be a fan of).

Instead, Juri only tries to console her after the fact, when Shiori's at her absolute lowest. In the context of all the assumptions Shiori holds and Juri's previous indifference, it quite understandably comes off as a sneering attempt to gloat.

That's about it. You may have noticed that I've summarized all Shiori's appearances into 4 points, and only one of them includes an instance of Shiori hurting Juri voluntarily, out of her own free will, not influenced by anyone. I'm not saying that she was forced to taunt Juri during the Black Rose Arc, I'm not trying to diminish the suffering she's caused or trying to paint her as a perfectly good person. I am trying to make it clear that she is not some cunning plotter, dedicating every minute of her life to finding ways to make Juri suffer that some people seem to take her for. I am trying to humanize people's perception of her a little bit. Especially considering the fact that last scenes of her include those when she waits for Juri and follows her so that they can go home together, and then joins the fencing club. If this doesn't show that she's capable of change, I don't know what does.

She's not an innocent princess, that's true, but she's not just an egoistical, manipulative liar either. She's a bit of both. After all, if Revolutionary Girl Utena is supposed to teach you anything, then I think it's that we're all just people, and the complexities of human experience make it impossible to fit anyone into a box, assigning them definite labels like "princess" or "witch".

And if you look at a teenage girl who, like all people in Ohtori, struggle under the system of patriarchy and heterosexuality, and all you see is a wicked, sinister witch, then you may have just fallen into the trap that the narrative had set for you.

[maybe-boys-do-love]

The Trainee, Episode 7 Work-Life

So i wanted to dive into episode 7 of the Trainee before watching the new one, because, after some thought, i realized how it gives an extraordinary culmination of all the shows' themes around healthy workplaces for which its been subtly laying the building blocks. Re-watching it, I marked over 30 references to well-being in workplaces in the episode. I'll pare it down for y'all. Spoilers ahead. Here we go, hold on tight!

1.Ba Mhee reminds Tae to take his vitamins as they car-pool into the office. He is, of course, ignoring her as he works and edits away on his computer beneath a blanket to keep the glare out from his screen. She tells him he needs to take care of his body. "You use your body a lot!" And this emphasis on bodily health that we get from Ba Mhee is key to understanding the show's complex perspective on work-life balance and the comparison we get (and will likely continue to get) between Judy and Jane's relationships with their interns.

2.In the next scene, Pah finishes up a voice-over for the post-production team and declares, "Feel free to ask me to do anything," which includes buying food, buying snacks, and carrying stuff. He's "always ready to help." Wan, the editor, doesn't discourage his boundary-less enthusiasm.

gif by @peachblossomdrama

3.And why would we be surprised by Wan's answer to Pah? We next see him explaining how he hasn't slept for 24 hours and another editor waking up after a night spent sleeping in the office. The editing team is a great example of how the show has used comedy--these goofy nerds who seem clueless to social cues like when and where its appropriate to sleep and how to socialize to have friends and partners--to plant the reality of major work-life balance issues in this office. But something the show uses to complicate a straight-up condemnation of their work behavior is that it let's us know that it's very much is the nature of the post-production team's job to have the strictest deadlines, requiring them to work weird, intense hours. They explain to Tae the Monday deadline, which will require him to work over the weekend unless he can finish it by Monday. Putting so much on the intern, however, seems sketch, to say the least. And focus on work over his personal life is what leads Ba Mhee to start doubting their relationship, which doesn't end well...

4.Another moment of comedy that also shows us the blurred lines between office and home life is Pie and Ba Mhee's conversation about Judy in the bathroom as Pie brushes her teeth and Ba Mhee puts her make up. It's a little moment, but little moments like this that emphasize the bigger message are what make this show so fuckin great.

5.There are lots of little moments about hunger and food in this episode and throughout the series. Ba Mhee's sandwich for Tae, Jane checking on Ryan's hunger level--being fed takes care of a body to make sure they are prepared and focus to do their work, and these moments remind us of its importance.

6.But Judy's sharing of her food with Ba Mhee begins a series of questions about sharing with coworkers, and especially with suborinate employees. It goes from sharing food, to confusing the glasses of water, to sharing a kiss, symbolizing the blurring of the lines between their own personal boundaries.

7.I won't excuse Judy's behavior, however, the show does a beautiful job of contextualizing it within Judy's workaholic nature in which she never seems to be off-duty. She's called Ba Mhee at 2am previously and we've seen her as the last person in the office. In this episode, she zoom's in while she can't actually be on video, she delivers a gift to clients several years after last working with them, and then she's out late partying with the clients. Everything she says in this episode suggests a marriage to her work where she seeks others' approval, and that prevents her from truly taking care of herself or having a clear head about her personal life and boundaries.

8.The parties and drinking are another question about professional behavior the show brings up. When Ba Mhee explains, "You're clients got me drunk," we are cued into the power imbalance at play even if the show hides its hand by not emphasizing it. In fact, we are pointed to the inappropriateness of this client a few times throughout the episode. The boss, for example, chooses who to work with based on "physiognomy," or looks... Of course, as with the post-production team, networking and parties and attractiveness are a reality for this position, so we aren't meant to be mad about a hard line being crossed (except the kiss), but bare witness to the fuzziness of the boundary and Judy's failure to identify it for herself and/or support Ba Mhee in finding it.

9.There's one more work boundary Judy crosses that, while I'm sure when other people notice its inclusion will feel perturbed, I found touching in connecting it to the confusion of separating one's work self and personal self. Judy discloses her sexuality. Nowadays, this is less fraught (depending on ur locale, of course!), but it is still legal to discriminate in workplaces based on your sexuality in many places. It's not a given that you get to express every part of yourself professionally, and the question of how much you can say or express your sexuality while working with the public and with coworkers is another occupational ethics question, and I'm so glad that the show included it in the tangled mess of Judy's boundary-crossing instead of simply showing us the "right way" to do it only, because, it's really not that long since there was no 'right way' in a legal and public opinion sense.

10.Speaking of sexuality, let's talk about the character of Joy, who is so lusciously funny with her open attraction to Jane that we go into our comedy mindsets and ignore how wildly inappropriate she's acting. Ryan is right, "This is an abuse of a professional position" and "If you want to flirt with each other, do it somewhere else, not in the office." Her inappropriate behavior has real consequences. She favors Jane and gives him the bottles instead of the actual director, which is the start of the issues, because there is a trend throughout the series that Jane doesn't actually know where a lot of things are at the office. Then, her behavior, not Ryan's crush alone, causes Ryan's challenges with focusing, so he's wasting paper (while wearing a recycling shirt!) and not listening when the explanation is given about the tester for the collagen capsule. Why isn't anyone intervening? Because of our acculturation to workplace comedy behavior, we're allowed to see it all as humorous, but the show has more up its sleeve.

11.Consequences is one of the things that The Trainee does exceptionally well. It gives us comedic elements but doesn't let them flit away as a joke. There are financial, emotional, and this time, physical ramifications to what could otherwise be laughed off. Jane doesn't pick up the phone. Ryan missed the information because of Joy's flirting and his own feelings, so he gives Pah the wrong bottle. When Pah leaves work, the show includes the detail of the burns on his arms, which is just such a great little detail, because consequences at work is what the show's all about: consequences and how to move forward once they occur.

12.JANE AND RYAN'S FIGHT!!!! They're both right and they're both wrong and it's so real and honest about what arguments actually are. First, Jane is ever professional by having the conversation privately after the explosion ("Go wait for me in my office"), because you don't shame employees in front of others. Next, Ryan owns his behavior and apologizes but also--and this is by far Ryan's biggest strength--articulates some of his questions and observations about the causes, explaining how he tried to call Jane for the info. Jane shoots back asking if there was no one else Ryan could ask, pointing to two issues for the two of them we can interpret. One: Jane knows Ryan has, if nothing else, latched onto him at work for assistance over anyone else. Two: Ryan couldn't have talked to anyone else because the office has an organization and documentation issue, sono one knows where anything is, especially if they weren't individually in charge of it. Just earlier in the episode Jo was looking through files on the desk for a document Prang sent, and Jane couldn't help locate it, either. I'd have to rewatch, but I'd guess in nearly every episode there's something lost that someone's looking for. Idk if Jane is being defensive about a known weak point of his, or if he just doesn't realize it.

13. Ryan discloses his feelings for Jane! For all the internal monologues and cues we've seen about Ryan's feelings (and about Jane's likely reciprocation), he hasn't been unprofessional. Disclosing his feelings verbally to his superior is actually a professional choice (the edits do all the heavy lifting of the romantic elements). Remember what Ba Mhee said at the beginning of the episode. "You're body is important." Communicating a feeling verbally is very different than using his body to communicate as Judy does. And the awareness and choices we make to deal with the feelings matter deeply in a professional setting, and both Jane and Ryan seem appropriately aware of this. We'll see what next steps they take now.

[edwinspaynes]

What is ur personal favourite, hands down recommended reading order? The way you like most, the way that's the most optimal way of reading it? According to you of course (and maybe including extra chapters) ? :))

Key:

Cassie Clare Canon -> If a short story is listed by name, it means I recommend you read it there rather than where I list the rest of the story collection. Or, you know, you could reread the story and have fun ;)

My fanfic

NOT PUBLISHED YET. Indicates a WIP that I am actively working on. I did not list WIPs that I am not actively working on.

My fanfic, but NSFW

@vwritesaus fanfic because I accept all her works as canon and also we share almost every headcanon so they fit in with all the other stuff on this list.

W/T -> Wessa

M -> Matthew

EIR -> Expert in Romantics Series

T/A -> Thomastair

TWLTB -> Together We'll Learn to Breathe Series

J/C -> Herondaisy

Note: I have only included fanfics that are fully canon compliant. I have others as does V, and you should read those too :P But these are just canon and bonus chapters.

TID

When Our Eyes Meet, Darling, I Fancy You

Have I Known You Twenty Seconds or Twenty Years? W/T

Leaves, Cider Donuts, and William Herondale W/T

Happy Birthday, My Tess W/T

Tale as Old as Time W/T

The Howling Wind W/T

My Hips and Thighs and Whispered Sighs (Oh Lord) W/T

The Whitechapel Fiend

A Tale of a Great Behemoth W/T

Nothing But Shadows

Cast Long Shadows

Come Feel This Magic I've Been Feeling Since I Met You T/A

Every Exquisite Thing

A Combination of Shock and Awe M

The Midnight Heir

The Penultimate Hours

Chain of Gold

Empty Bottles, Heavy Hearts, the Memories of Broken Dreams T & Lily

The Letter Game

Part-Time Soulmate, Full-Time Problem T/A

Chain of Iron

Chain of Thorns

Daisy, My Daisy... J/C

breathe T/A

Enouement J/C

Chrysalism T/A

Can We Dance Through an Avalanche? T/A

Serindipity Ari/Anna NOT PUBLISHED YET.

Adronitis NOT PUBLISHED YET.

A Therapeutic Chain of Events T/A TWLTB

The Closet Game A & C

The Golden Age of Something Good and Right and Real T/A

Butterflies J/C

Prices & Vices (I End Up in Crisis) M & A

Your Flower's Filled With Vitriol M & A

In the Gutter, Looking at the Stars M & A

The Name We Give Our Mistakes M

Summer Went Away (Still the Yearning Stays) M

Love Thorns All Over This Rose J/C

You Drew Scars Around My Stars T/A TWLTB

Passed Down Like Folk Songs (The Love Lasts So Long) T/A

Taffy Stuck and Tongue Tied A & Grace

It's a Love Story (Baby Just Say Yes) J/C

Soul to the Universe (Wings to the Mind) J/C, T/A, M

I Can See You (Up Against a Wall With Me) J/C

Across our Great Divide There Is a Glorious Sunrise M

Fourty-Eight M

Dreamscapes on the Wall T/A

I'm a Fire and I'll Keep Your Brittle Heart Warm T/A

The Diaries of Sir Thomas Lightwood, Age 14 T/A

what's in a kiss (by any other touch would feel just as sweet) T/A

A Troublesome Tale of Truffles & Trifles T/A

Religion in Your Lips (the Altar Is My Hips) T/A

A Dazzling Haze, A Mysterious Way About You T/A

Seeking Lapsang Souchang J/C

The Crown You Never Take Off T/A

Closets of Backlogged Dreams T/A

dear christopher T/A

Life Is Not Complex (We Are Complex) M EIR Eugenia/OC

The Cheap Severity of Abstract Ethics M & T/A

Walk, Walk, Fashion Baby M & T

Got Me Right Where You Want Me, Baby (Could I Be More Obvious?) T/A

More Than Anything: A Thomas and Alastair Drabble Collection T/A

The Besotted Couple's Guide to Half-Baked Mistakes J/C

Privacy Sign on the Whole World J/C

Until the Stars Burn Out: A James and Cordelia Drabble Collection J/C

Flying in a Dream, Stars By the Pocketful T/A

Twenty Minutes T/A

hygge T/A

Like a Candle You Burnt Out T/A

Christmas on the Balcony W/T

The Surprise T/A & C

i'm only me when i'm with you J/C

Every Tear's a Rain Parade From Hell T/A TWLTB

A Dwindling Mercurial High T/A TWLTB

Bloodsucker, Famefucker T/A TWLTB

Baby You Got Lucky Cause You're Rockin With the Best T/A

Is This the End of All the Endings? (My Broken Bones Are Mending) T/A

Dinner in the Dark T/A

For One Moment, Our Lives Met (Our Souls Touched) M EIR Ragnor/Catarina

Fashion Is Ephemeral (Art Is Eternal) Matthew EIR T/A

A Little Sincerity (A Dangerous Thing) M EIR Risa/OC

The Moon in Her Chariot of Pearl M EIR T/A

Days Future: Paris 1912 T/A

A Ribbon of Dream T/A

Kaleidoscope of Loud Heartbeats Under Coats T/A

Moonlight Sonata and I T/A

Connecting the Tide to the Sand That Was Dry T/A

Love on Ice T/A

portrait of a dissipated parisian T/A

Time, Mystical Time M

TMI 1-4

The Red Scrolls of Magic

TMI 5-6

Tales From the Shadowhunter Academy

The Bane Chronicles

TDA, if you absolutely must, but I usually recommend people don't waste their time.

Ghosts of the Shadow Market

The Lost Book of the White

Sentimental Boy Is My Nom de Plume W/T

This Beautiful Beast M T/A and Kit H

TWP

[catt-marp]

Zoroark Story (Part of a Medical Anthology)

My grandmother had suffered from severe dementia for years. The disease had rapidly worsened over the last couple of months, so I went to visit her in her nursing home in Nacrene City. After the staff allowed me inside, I started walking toward her room when I heard a sound I never expected; the voice of my deceased grandfather. I rushed down the hall at that sound, thinking I must have imagined it. Turning the corner and walking up to the correct door, my brain caught up and remembered my grandma’s oldest partner.

Peeking around the corner slowly revealed an elderly man with a thin mop of gray hair standing at the bedside of an elderly woman wearing large circular glasses who rested peacefully; my grandfather and grandmother. 

“Horace, you need to head out to the store and pick up all the things written down on the list, got it? We got that bake sale coming up, after all.” 

She spoke with a strength I had not heard in ages.

“Of course, love. Is there anything else you need?” Horace asked in response. Spoken in a voice I had not heard in a decade.

“No, dear, but aren’t the flowers lovely today? Such brilliant shades of purple! We should have Jane over to see how well they’ve bloomed, don’t you think?”

There were flowers, an innumerable amount in the room, collected regularly from the countless lives this woman touched and set out by her loving family. Horace sat down in a chair at the far end of the room provided for visiting family members and placed his hand on hers. 

“Yes, my dear, they are quite lovely. Let me sit with you for a bit and then I’ll head out for those groceries, okay?”

They both passed the time in companionable silence while I stood outside the door awkwardly, unsure if I should walk in or not. She stirred a few minutes later and turned to look at where my grandfather was sitting. 

“Bridget? It’s been ages! How’ve you been, girl?”

Bridget was a lifelong friend of my grandmother and another person who, last I remembered, had been dead for decades. As if to scoff at that idea, my grandfather’s visage disappeared in a whirl of light, replaced with the body of a much younger woman. My grandmother did not seem surprised at all at this sudden change, only waiting for a response with a soft smile on her face.

“Oh, Millie, I’ve missed you too!” a light feminine voice said in response.

They continued for some time with idle chit-chat and gossip of neighbors no longer present. This included areas in town much further developed and changed than either of the two could have known. 

The conversation dragged on for some time before another comfortable silence filled the air. The younger woman continued to sit at the bedside while the older woman seemed to doze off. A ways away from Bridget, standing just outside the doorway, I tried to focus on Bridget's face. I imagined a series of complex emotions playing across her face; fear, sadness, hope, joy, despair, comfort. I blinked my eyes, turned away for a second, and looked back. All I saw this time was love. Simply love.

My grandmother jolted a bit as a sleep jerk awakened her from her doze. She turned her head a bit to look around as if lost in her surroundings, unsure. But then her eyes lit up.

“Trixie, my dear! How’d you get out of your ball, my love?”

It was like a firework went off with how excited Bridget looked upon hearing that name. Not even a tenth of a second passed before light once again filled the room and where a woman once sat, a Zoroark now stood. The Zoroark bounced in the seat before settling down near the head of the bed, planting kisses on my grandmother’s forehead and cuddling up with her while being as gentle and caring as possible. 

Trixie, of course it was Trixie. I knew the moment I saw my grandfather, but confirmation was still reassuring. The Zoroark was old, not as old as my grandmother, who started her journey later in life with her Zorua in her late 20s, but the age was showing. Her hairs were thin, with some of the black transitioning to a darker gray. Tricky though she may be, the fox was my grandmother’s oldest and closest partner. And here she was, doing what she did throughout her whole life, bringing love and joy to her best friend in the world.

My thoughts of their journey and the stories grandma told me played through my head when I noticed the fox looking up from the bed directly at me, finally picking up my scent a little better in her base form. The look was quizzical, but not all that surprised, before she spun back to my grandmother. 

I stepped away from leaning in and sat in the hallway to wait, giving them their moment. It was rare, I heard, for my grandmother to recognize the fox nowadays. If only she knew. The pain was clear enough for the old fox. 

She didn’t want to leave my grandmother’s side, but she was still a proficient battler who could support a Gym or a family member well. Initially, she had difficulty taking care of herself during the more severe episodes at the beginning of my grandmother’s worsening condition. My family worked out a deal with the nursing home that allowed her more frequent visits and allowances, given her gifts and abilities.

The noise of a clearing throat startled me out of my reverie and I glanced up to see a younger woman again. Not Bridget, though. Bridget had light brown hair and brown eyes and appeared in her twenties in the room. This woman had long black hair, teal colored eyes, and a bangle tied into her hair near the base of her head, with the rest flowing down past her hips. She appeared middle-aged and looked at me with friendly eyes, a set of bags under each. 

She moved again when I noticed her and sat down on the ground next to me, turning to chat.

“How long have you been here, Samantha?” she asked naturally, the Zoroark’s human disguise a perfect replica she had used for decades.

“Only about 15 minutes; startled me a bit when I heard grandpa before I realized…” I trailed off feeling awkward. It wasn’t like Trixie was doing anything wrong. Well, maybe, I didn't know. Don't know how I would have reacted if I heard and saw myself in the room.

She seemed to pick up on my feelings, though, and heaved a sigh. “I’m sorry if I scared you, and I’m sorry if that upsets anyone else in the family. I understand how that can be frustrating to hear, only…” she said as she lifted her fist up and tightened it in front of her. 

“I fought so hard for her, Sammy. She did the same for me, and we took care of each other for years. Thick and thin, humans like to say. That was us.” 

She pounded her fist to her chest, as if in confirmation of that fact.

She paused for a second before she continued, “I noticed something off the past couple of years before some of her caretakers explained it to me. To lose the ability to know who you are…you humans have it rough. And so do I.” 

She looked down at her fake human legs and sighed. I glanced at her face again and noticed moisture appearing at the edges of her eyes. Shock rocked through me. I had never seen Trixie cry before. I leaned into her and placed a hand on her leg in support.

Trixie jumped a bit, not expecting that physical support. She must get a lot less of it now with everything that happened. I felt her lean into me in response, and I saw a small smile on her face before it fell away.

“She deserves the world, Sammy. That and more. It isn’t fair that she has to lose it all yet still BE here. It doesn’t make any sense! Even with it explained to me over and over again, it makes me angry again and again,” she said, her frustration plain with the rise in volume of her words. “She did everything right and still– still , it came to this!”

Tears fell liberally from her face after those words escaped her mouth. I sat with her as long as she needed, a soul in need of love and comfort as much as my grandmother resting silently in her own room. 

“I will continue to do what I must, Sammy. As much as my body allows, as much as can be accommodated. Millie deserves my support. And if she sees her grandpa or one of her old neighbors or a random mailman? I will be whoever she needs.” 

She moved to stand up and supported me while I did the same. She looked at me, determination clear in her eyes.

“And when Millie sees Trixie, the Zoroark? I will bring the energy of a fox she remembers from our life together. And I will revel in it for as long as I still can. We both deserve that, don’t you think?”

She asked that last part with a smile on her face, the tears dried. I smiled as well. Who could resist, when you knew without any doubt your grandmother had her greatest protector and friend at her side in her time of need? 

“Do you want to go see her now? I will support you in any way I can, and give you the time and space you deserve as well, Sammy,” she said.

I nodded in answer as she followed with a flash and transformed back into her natural Zoroark form. Ready to assist and support, as always. She could fill the role of anyone my grandmother needed, but I knew all my grandmother ever needed was the fox. As we walked into the room, I vowed to make sure Trixie had the same love and support from myself and my family that she gave to our family her entire life when her own time came. It was only right, after all.

[imperiuswrecked]

Namor & Dorma headcanons below the cut, a very long post, lol.

Answering a question on the Namor forum: Okay, lets do this, class. You have a 6 issue mini-series, the goal is to have a dramatic and impactful return of Dorma to 616 and the world of the Sub-Mariner. What do you do?

My reply is going off current continuity where Namor is sitting in a jail cell and combining my own fanfic ideas:

Issue 1 - Namor is in jail, a few panels, or maybe a page to set up history, summary of back story/current situation to get new readers up to speed, his thoughts on his past life, his love for Dorma, his people, his friends like Vashti, his regret over how things ended all those years ago with a teen Attuma, nothing too lore heavy or complex. It ends with a splash page ACTION moment of a loyal set of Atlantean royal guards lead by Andromeda to break him out of jail while explaining that Atlantis needs him. Namor's thought bubble/narration box would be "of course Atlantis needs me, and I will forever answer her call" he stands up and breaks the handcuffs holding him, proving that he could have gotten out at any time if he wanted, a prison guard tries to stop him and Namor makes him back down with a glare as he leaves with his guard following into the waiting Atlantean ship. He takes the seat at the helm and Andromeda gets him up to speed as they race towards Atlantis. The Black Tide has returned and they've been causing havoc in the seas for weeks. Atlantis is in shambles politically and literally. Namor arrives in Atlantis and there's a few panels of him thinking about how many times his people and city have been hurt, before he asks where the council members are, many of them are dead, his cousins Seth and Dara have been trying to hold the line but both are unable to run the kingdom efficiently and mount a offensive against the Black Tide. Namor asks about Vashti and is told he's been kidnapped by Attuma several months ago. He's angry no one came to get him before but ultimately blames himself for having a pity party and trying to placate the humans. He says they are going to get his Vizier back and leads a team to Attuma's last known location via their spy network, it's a trap of course, that Attuma has baited for Namor which Vashti tries to warn them about before Attuma's people emerge, lots of action/fighting, a showdown between Namor and Attuma ends with Namor holding his trident to Attuma's neck who smiles his shark smile and holds up his hands, yielding, Namor is confused, thinking it's another trap but Attuma releases Vashti to Namor to prove his intentions were to ensure that Namor wasn't a weak king because the task ahead needs strength and if he had found Namor lacking then he would have killed him here and now. What is the task? The Stone has been activated, it's warping the waters around it in a vortex of black magic and no one knows what to do to fix it, monsters are emerging from it, and something big is coming. Ends on a cliff hanger.

Issue 2 - We are at the Stone, a huge shadow emerges and Attuma and Namor prepare to face it together, not a happy team up they still insult and snark at each other but they need to face this threat, the shadow comes out and it's Ambrose, the old giant monster goldfish pet of Dorma. Both are stunned bc the creature disappeared decades ago. It indicates that Namor and Attuma should follow him into the vortex, and Namor leaves orders with Vashti to return with Andromeda and help Seth and Dara restabilize Atlantis, and give aid, and Attuma agrees to let his warriors go along to protect everyone from the Black Tide's return. Attuma and Namor buddy road trip into the black darkness of the vortex. Action scenes as they fight twisted sea monsters/people and navigate the other side of the veil they have stepped through. Throughout we get Attuma’s backstory/history of what happened to him after the Chasm people died, basically a way to mix in his other origin of being born into slavery, except he was taken as a teen into slave camps of the whatever sea people, like idk Lemurians or someone else, he spends years getting stronger until he causes a revolt and his loyal followers are the people he liberated from the camps. Attuma of course lays all the blame on the Atlanteans and Namor, and tells him once they finish this task then he will be marching on Atlantis while dragging Namor’s corpse with him as a trophy to show Atlantis their half breed false king is dead and now Attuma is the ruler. There is a presence of Great Power in this vortex world, that they are drawn to. Ends with a cliff hanger of them being confronted by the presence.

Issue 3 - Opens with a action scene as they fight the Great Power which takes the form of a shadow demonic woman, as they do they are given flashes of their pasts, their wrong deeds, their regrets, their happy memories become twisted into nightmares, their souls darken with hate and power, their bodies begin to transform like the other people/creatures who live in the Stone Vortex, cool art of the transformations as they descend into madness and evil caused by the stone/great presence. Through the haze of this corruption, Namor recognizes Dorma is the Great Power and he pulls on memories of happiness with her, their times growing up, their time spent loving each other, fighting side by side as partners, he clings to the memories even as Shadow!Dorma tries to twist them into bad memories, he shows her his mind/memories of her death, and how badly it affected him, how lost he was after she died, how he grieved for her. Namor opens his heart & mind to Dorma knowing that if he cannot reach her then she will corrupt him as Attuma’s corruption is nearly complete. Namor shares his deep love for Dorma who finally breaks free of the Stone’s influence and remembers herself, her past, she recalls all the power of the stone. Namor and Attuma shift back to normal as a swirling vortex of power and lights rotate around Dorma who’s eyes go black as she commands all the power of the stone to be stored inside herself and locks the power away. All is quiet as the vortex world is gone and they are back in the ocean having been transported into the throne room of Atlantis, where Attuma and Namor are kneeling before a newly resurrected Dorma who radiants with power, her eyes are black, and the rest of the court watches in awe at the return of their beloved queen. Namor stands and reaches for her, saying her name “Dorma… you’ve returned.” comic ends there with a to be continued cliff hanger.

Issue 4 - Dorma's issue, it begins with Dorma as a child being raised in Atlantis��s court, her seeing Namor being an outcast and befriending him, her teachings of magic, her history, her father is her only surviving family, basically this issue is a love letter to Dorma and cements her past, her death, and explains how the interaction with the stone when she was a teen created an unbreakable link between it and her soul, how the power was so great she didn't know how to use and she just figured that after the events of King in Black she lost her magic powers but it was just dormant and after Llyra murdered her, her soul was snapped back like a rubber band into the Stone where it was trapped for all these years, how she spent years learning it’s dark magic, and being lost to the darkness until Namor reminded her of who she was and the comic ends with her back in the present, with Namor reaching out to her. She has returned, the stone and her magic resurrecting her body, but she has used much of her power and she does not have the full access as she did in the shadow vortex, which means she has magic but it’s limited bc of her resurrection. Namor and Dorma have a very heavy moment of their reunion where they hug but just before they kiss the news of the Black Tide’s return causes panic in the throne room. Ends on a cliff hanger.

Issue 5 - Namor, Dorma, and Attuma are once again reunited in battle, a call back to their time together from King in Black. Dorma tells Namor her magic is spent but she picks up a sword and is still ready to fight, Namor picks up his trident, and Attuma has his own sword. They are joined by Attuma’s people, Andromeda and the castle guard, Lord’s Seth and Dara, and… Warlord Krang. He steps forward and takes Dorma’s hand, kissing the back of it, slimy as a eel and with a glint of hunger for power in his eyes he compliments Dorma, saying he’s missed her, and how he would lay his life down for her, pledging to be her guard and friend. Namor is not impressed but he has to deal with that later. Dorma is suspicious but accepts his sword arm for now. This will play into later issues/comics where Krang is loyal only to Dorma, and slowly tries to influence her to betray Namor & get with him, but for now he fights alongside them as they go to face the Black Tide. Big showdown page. As the sorceress Sycorax uses her powers to make dead sea people’s skeletons rise and fight against the heroes, each character, Namor, Dorma, Attuma, Seth & Dara, Krang, and Andromeda have close up fight shots as they battle the Black Tide. Andromeda saves AttumaÂ’s life, citing that she only did that because she needs him to help save Namor and not because she thinks of him as her father in a kindly manner, the tension between father and daughter is there but Attuma compliments her strength and says if she had been born a son she would have led his own armies. She is hurt by the rejection even though she thought she was over it but she turns her back on Attuma and gets back into the fight. Cliff hanger on Namor facing the Black Tide’s leader Kharsa.

Issue 6 - The Black Tide wants the Stone that is currently laying dormant in the center of the throne room (later it would be revealed the stone cannot be moved from its place and it becomes a constant reminder and a centerpiece of the throne room, suspended floating in a force field that no one can touch) and they want Lady Dorma because she now the key to controlling the Stone. Namor says they’ll never touch her and he would die to save Dorma because he cannot lose her again. Fight scenes, Fight scenes, and then Dorma is stabbed in the stomach, Namor screams Nooooo, thinking he has lost her after only just finding her again, he gathers her in his arms, and she touches his face, saying that she’s always loved him but she wasn’t ready to die just yet, she had so much to live for, she “dies” her eyes closing and Namor grieves again, but then her eyes shoot open, black power with cool effects fill them and she heals herself, and she cannot control herself, as she directs all her power towards her enemies, but even as she drives away the Black Tide who fear her power and flee, she still cannot stop her destruction, she is floating with a lot of power around her, and she could kill everyone around her if she isn’t stopped. Attuma screams at Namor to kill her, but Namor refuses, instead he throws himself at Dorma’s power, it eats away at his flesh as he swims closer to her, and he yells out for her to remember herself, she sees the harm she is doing to Namor and remembers him and herself. She cries out as she shuts down the power and collapses. As she recovers she states she cannot trust the power within herself but will work towards controlling it. Wrap up the story with Namor, Dorma, and Attuma saying their farewells, Attuma promising Namor that their temporary truce is over and the next time he sees them he will kill him. Dorma is welcomed back by Vashti, Seth, and Dara, and other court members, while Andromeda stands next to Namor and comments on her return, asking Namor if it’s really her, and he says it is. Namor thanks her for being a friend and for for keeping her duties as the captain of his guard, and comments on Attuma, she says that her father will never change no matter how much she might wish for it and she’s given up trying to get his acceptance. Andromeda then asks him if he will kill Dorma if she loses control again and he says nothing. Ends with Namor joining Dorma in the center of the court and taking her hand to lead her up towards his throne where they will take their place as the ocean's rulers, a wide shot on the court, celebrations ensue, and then a pan away to one of the court members slipping away, turning a corner, and transforming into Empress Llyra, she holds up a mirror and speaks into it, saying that her plans are just beginning. The shadow figure in the reflection laughs. Ends with the promise of Court intrigue and drama, Namor and Dorma slowly re establishing their romance, and dark high fantasy adventures.

And that's how Marvel should do it imo. Anyways I will be writing this more in depth for my fic someday.

[hylialeia]

I never did write and post my thoughts after I finished reading Priory of the Orange Tree but given I've been thinking about the state of the fantasy genre a lot lately - across YA, adult, and "new adult" categories - I figure now is a good time to do that.

I didn't particularly like this book.

And I find this weird to write, because unlike most books I end up disliking, Priory was consistently well written in a technical sense, had a narrative voice I generally navigate towards, and consisted of some genuinely impressive worldbuilding and well-thought-out fantasy concepts.

Yet it took me months to finish it. I even hit a point where I almost DNF'd the entire thing, I was so surprised by my lack of motivation to continue. This book hooked me, presented me with something interesting, and then... completely flat-lined.

While a lot of this could have just been media burnout on my end (you can never really account for how your own personal mood and context when you start something new), I at least know for sure that my lack of enthusiasm had nothing to do with the novel's length. In fact, one of my technical criticisms of Priory is that I think it would have benefited immensely from splitting its story into a series and extending things, fleshing out more of the characters in each of their respective settings, as well as allowing for a lot more build-up towards the climax and eventual intersection of the characters' storylines.

As it stands, those are the areas that felt the most rushed and underwhelming to me. There were several potential instances of conflict throughout the novel that the narrative brushes over or ignores in a way I found particularly disappointing. In a book that grounds itself in examining religious bias, propaganda, xenophobia, and sexism, there were surprisingly few deeper conflicts or tense moments between our main characters. This became especially apparent by the end, when widely accepted histories (and religions) are turned on their heads and most of our POV characters carry on without any sense of fallout, betrayal, or lasting hurt. Each and every character puts aside their personal biases and histories in a way that should feel admirable and satisfying, but instead felt less than believable and even... underwhelming, given the speed with which it was done and the potential (fascinating!) conflicts that those agreements squandered.

I couldn't help but feel that the characters of Priory were either half-baked or intentionally watered down for the purposes of being palatable. Tané, Niclays, and Sabran were (in my totally subjective opinion) the most interesting characters by far; it doesn't escape me that they were also the ones who did, said, and/or thought some of the more uncharitable and even downright terrible things within the novel. Tané's inferiority complex and self-sabotaging nature, Niclays's mixture of pessimism, cowardice, and bitterness, and Sabran's privilege and willful prejudice, all served to make them more fascinating to me. They gave me clear character flaws that made their respective stories more interesting, flaws that stoked my desire to see them improve (or deteriorate) on the course of their character arcs. I found myself disappointed when those arcs became rushed in the final act, those flaws never proving a sufficient obstacle to their dynamics or growth.

Ead and Loth were sadly the worst case scenario. I wanted desperately to like them, but every POV chapter they had seemed to be written by an author terrified to make them in any way unlikable, or even portray them as in the wrong. Ead ends up being completely right about everything; the falseness of Sabran's history, her religion, and her country. Her only missteps result from a lack of information, which she quickly overcomes or is the first to genuinely discover, thus erasing any feeling of culpability that otherwise may have been implied; I never feel any legitimate moments of shame, grief, horror, or regret on her part, because the author never gives her legitimate reason to feel those things. Niclays is interesting in his betrayals and moments of cowardice, and the moments where he overcomes them are all the more meaningful for having seen him falter. Ead, arguably our main protagonist, never really gets something similar. She doesn't make any mistakes, and this is the greatest disservice Shannon could do to her as a character.

I barely know what to say about Loth, mostly because he only began interesting me when he encountered Tané - a dynamic that was cut woefully short and could have been absolutely fascinating if it was deeply explored. Prior to this moment (which had to be in the last 10% of the book, if I remember correctly), Loth is "a walking camera" (quoting a friend). He has characteristics with potential; religious, loyal, and dedicated... but considering the entire basis of his faith is overturned by one of his closest friends, he has shockingly little reaction or issue with this. Due to the important of larger plot happenings, Loth has to dust himself off and just postpone his reaction to the utter disassembly of his religious background for another time - which we are then never able to see. His reactions to most everything are basic, reasonable, minimal, or even dull; he could have paralleled Sabran in his religious prejudice, even showed some effects of his society's religious fanaticism, but he never really seems to - at least, never in a way that truly feels like it's testing him. For all intents and purposes, Loth feels like a character who should be making snap judgments and loads of mistakes, but instead is relegated to keeping those thoughts to himself (even hiding them from the reader) and soldiering on.

Priory was mostly recommended to me based on the impressive scale of its worldbuilding, which was definitely a cut above the rest. I thought Shannon had a firm grasp on her setting and some legitimately excellent imagery for it. I've been made more appreciative of this by the analysis in Global Medievalism by Helen Young and Kavita Mudan Finn, which dissects how Priory (and others) takes the predominantly white interpretation of medievalism and medieval fantasy expands it in a way that's far more inclusive and also far more interesting than much of our modern day "high fantasy" media. I'm not without my criticisms, however; the worldbuilding is another area where the pacing hurts the story, as we only have one 800 page book to get to know the seemingly important settings in which these characters live. That may sound like a lot, but it's perilously little; balancing those vivid worldbuilding details with a packed plot and character arcs meant that, at any given time, one aspect was always getting the short end of the stick.

While I appreciate Shannon's attempts to write with a feminist approach to high fantasy, I think her efforts highlight an issue I have with many similar approaches. Primarily, I find it difficult for a work to address, untangle, disassemble, and analyze misogyny in a setting where they... don't really show it. We're in a state where I think many of us have become (understandably) distrustful of media claiming "realism" or "historical accuracy" to defend its portrayal of violence and various types of oppression, but lately, I've noticed the response to that gratuitousness (in the cases where these things actually are gratuitous instead of just uncomfortable-yet-intentional, that is), is to avoid these things in the narrative almost entirely. That's all well and good; you don't have to include racism, misogyny, ableism, or imperialism in your fantasy world, especially when your desire is to write an alternative escapism to these things.

But when a piece of media is striving to say something about those topics, as I assume Priory does since its driving conflict results from a history of dismissing women's bravery and sacrifice against evil and instead granting the reward of their efforts to a man, then I have to admit, I feel somewhat underwhelmed when the women in the story never face any of the trials I myself deal with in real life. Their male colleagues seem consistently respectful with rare few exceptions; women across the series are allowed to occupy roles from respected advisors to knights trained in combat. Sabran herself seems to be one of the only women deeply impacted by familiar misogynistic mindsets, as she's constantly pressured to marry a man and produce offspring for the continuation of her line. Yet even this could almost be argued to be a special case within the world, since this pressure results from the religious belief that the continuation of her line (through her, the queen, the matriarch) is keeping the main antagonist at bay. This area felt like it wanted to be a subversion to much of the gritty, "realistic" fantasy that plagues the market, but to me, it felt more like indecisiveness. Is there misogyny in this world or isn't there? Is there homophobia in this setting or not? The answer could simply be yes, no, or even somewhat, but instead it felt like a "maybe".

Overall, Priory of the Orange Tree fell flat for me, maybe because my expectations were too high, or maybe because I just wasn't in a place to really dig my teeth into it. Mostly, though, I believe it fell flat because Shannon failed in what I believe to be the most important area of focus in a work: character. I would have traded worldbuilding, plot, imagery, and much more for a cast of characters that felt more intensely raw and complex, that were more unabashedly real in their flaws even if they risked becoming unlikable. Sitting at a 5.5/10

[helix-enterprises117]

Halo Reloaded: Snow Day

As the dawn cracked its first light over the Spartan Training Facility, tucked away in some godforsaken corner of Reach, a blanket of snow had transformed the typically imposing, all-too-serious military complex into something resembling a winter wonderland—albeit one bristling with weapons and guarded by the future's finest teenage supersoldiers. Inside, two of these teenage titans, Fred-108 and Kelly-087, found themselves staring out at the expanse of white, their augmentations apparently not extending to immunity from cabin fever.

Fred, built like a tank but with the strategic mind of a chess grandmaster, cracked open the heavy door, letting a gust of frigid air sweep into the warm barracks. He looked back over his shoulder, a mischievous glint in his eye. "You think they'll let us add snowball fighting to our combat training?"

Kelly, who could outrun a warthog on a good day and was never one to back down from a challenge, especially from Fred, smirked. "Only if you promise not to cry when I pummel you with a snowball at twenty paces."

And with that, they charged into the snow, their heavy boots crunching the fresh powder with each step, a stark contrast to their usual stealthy movements. For a moment, they weren't humanity's next line of defense; they were just teenagers, albeit ones who could bench press a small vehicle.

Their "race" to the obstacle course quickly devolved into a haphazard series of sprints, dodges, and laughter-filled tumbles into snowbanks. Fred, with his usually stoic demeanor now replaced by boyish glee, made a show of his "superior" speed, only to find himself face-first in the snow courtesy of a well-placed slide tackle from Kelly.

Kelly, standing triumphantly over Fred, couldn't help but let out a triumphant laugh. "Looks like all that muscle just slows you down, eh, Fred?"Wiping the snow from his visor, Fred retorted, "Oh, you're gonna pay for that one." His tone, though playful, carried the unspoken promise of a snowball ambush later.

As they reached the obstacle course, their competitive streak turned the playful jaunt into an impromptu training session. They swung through ropes and leapt over walls with the grace of gazelles, if gazelles were wearing several hundred pounds of advanced armor. At one point, Fred attempted a particularly ambitious leap, only to land with a thud that would've registered on seismic meters. Kelly, ever the helpful comrade, couldn't resist quipping, "Nice landing. What'd you score that, judges?"

Ignoring the jibe, Fred scrambled up, dignity slightly bruised but otherwise unharmed. They continued through the course, their friendly banter echoing off the snow-covered obstacles.

Finally, at the end of the course, breathless and grinning like idiots, Fred and Kelly paused to catch their breath. Fred, in a rare display of gallantry, extended his hand to Kelly. "I believe this makes me the winner," he declared, trying to muster as much of his usual authoritative tone as possible despite panting like a dog in summer.

Kelly, accepting the hand with a roll of her eyes, shot back, "In your dreams, Freddie. I was just letting you have your moment."

As they trudged back toward the barracks, their armor covered in snow and their spirits unusually high, an unspoken connection lingered between them, a bond formed not just from shared battles but from moments like these. Sure, they were designed to be super-soldiers, but beneath the armor and the augmentations, they were just kids. Kids who, for a brief moment, got to forget about the weight of the galaxy on their shoulders and just... play.

[a-sea-with-no-shores]

The Sleuth of Ming Dynasty notes for any other latecomers like me:

I liked the parts of it that I liked very much, including the main relationship. There are a handful of good female characters that rotate in and out. The fight scenes are mostly short and semi-realistic, light on the lightness skills (pun intended) and lacking anything more fanciful than that.

Women in armor, even if it's only a small amount of the time: A+++ (this is in the opening animation; that's not a spoiler).

You should have some tasty food on hand over the course of the series, including at least one bowl of noodles, or you will be Very Sad.

It's set in 1478 CE (the Chinese name is literally 成化十四年, 14th year of Chenghua*). Thus you get what you'd get in a show set in another region in a similar era: nasty attitudes about nations adjoining distant borders, deals made in fancy brothels, etc. etc., and I'm not going to write up all that because I expected it going in. Are there current political aspects involved? Yup. (Like, was that bit about exiling someone to Xinjiang historically accurate? I don't think the Ming actually had control of it well enough for that during this period!) But that all goes over there in the box marked General Historical and Modern Social/Political Problems With Everyone's (Quasi-) Historical Shows Everywhere.

(if you don't want to know ANYTHING more about the show before watching it, don't continue, although I've tried to avoid real spoilers.) *not everything in that article that's stated as fact is accepted as fact, though that should be a given with brief histories of any era whether on Wikipedia or anywhere.

Some things I was NOT expecting:

I was not expecting for Tang Fan to be such a cringey brat. I honestly wasn't sure I could deal with him at first. But underneath the (gestures) everything, as it turns out, he's remarkably strong even in a show full of steel-willed characters. I don't know exactly what caused all the (gestures) everything, but I have some guesses.

Holy shit, so many instances of people ending their own lives! I literally lost count. Generally for "I got caught and there's no way out" reasons but whew. Genre-appropriate but like. A lot. It wasn't triggery to me in the least but if you're bingeing it becomes a little ridiculous. (And there were two instances in which I was mad about it.)

ACAB: One main character is a judge/clerk/DA/public defender, kind of. One is an army veteran/cop/enforcer/investigator, kind of. One is a secret agent/spymaster, kind of. They are all deeply enmeshed in the machinery of power and have different relationships with it, which change over the course of the show. (Though they are all never more than one breath away from being crushed by it.) For the most part the overly idealistic/rigid pair change for the better, though there's a moment of what felt to me like real abuse of power over marginalized people that I think is mostly excused by the narrative as being done in the grip of panic (and love). But it also felt like it was written in a way that indicated there would probably be consequences? If so, they didn't come up. (I'd have to rewatch to really analyze it.)

I meant it about the food.

There are clearly good/evil characters, complex/morally grey/ambiguous characters, and then there's the third main character in this show, who's like ... a third, secret thing. Like, utterly amoral in pursuit of his own ethic? I would not want to live in the same time zone or decade as him.

Unexpectedly, there's a case that involves (sigh) an Autistic EngineerTM. I can't comment on this character or storyline in depth but over several episodes they managed to make the handling of the whole thing both better and worse multiple times. The ending made me mad but I don't know enough about the depiction of autism in Chinese media to say if even this kind of storyline was a positive or negative in that sense.

Actually, for both the above and the handling of Sui Zhou's PTSD, I can't say if the translation made things better or worse. That kind of vocabulary is pretty well beyond me. That said, I don't think "mental illness" is necessarily the best translation every time it showed up in the English subtitles.

Character ages make no goddamn sense. When I try to imagine that Wang Zhi is the age they claim he is, my brain just breaks. (I don't remember how old the real Wang Zhi was during this time period, though since the other two MCs are fictional it doesn't really matter.) I suppose it's a miracle that they let Consort Wan be played by someone who's 3 years older than the actor who played the emperor, even though in real life she was more like 15 years older (I forget exactly).

Gender/crossdressing: One male character wears a woman's clothes/makeup/etc. as a disguise and gets thoroughly laughed at by one other male character (others are surprised or matter-of-fact about it) but it's unclear whether the laughter is deliberate manipulation, mockery, delight, or a more complicated gender thing given who's doing the laughing. There are a couple instances of female or AFAB characters presenting as men as a disguise and/or as their daily life. I think in all of the cases these characters have some degree of agency when there's the inevitable (because it's a drama) revelation. Honestly in one case I was pleasantly surprised because the character continues to present as male. I honestly have no idea what the character's gender turns out to be, which is fine! The subtitles do change their pronouns to feminine but I can't remember from the spoken dialogue if there's any actual change in address.

I've only watched the show once and my memory is not that good so forgive me if I got anything wrong here. None of this is really criticism, just personal observations! I'd like to read the book eventually. (I've already begun to investigate the fanfic. I see that while the show forgot about Tang Fan's side hustle pretty quickly, fic writers certainly didn't lmao)

[ahb-writes]

Book Review: ‘Slayers’ Collector’s Edition #3

Slayers Volumes 7-9 Collector's Edition (Slayers, 3) by Hajime Kanzaka, Rui Araizumi, Elizabeth Ellis

adventure

fantasy

magecraft

magic

swords and sorcery

My rating: 5 of 5 stars

The fascinating. The powerful. The corrupt.

Each shadowy entity wreaking havoc on this mortal plane has manufactured an array of ignoble philosophies to justify its dark deeds. Some of these philosophies are brutish and rudimentary (e.g., demons are creatures of ill omen, who feed off the ill intentions of others), and some philosophies are dangerously, monstrously complex (e.g., demons vying to reduce all existence to nothingness, for only in nothingness is there true calm). And yet, through it all, a tiny sorceress with a knack for being in the wrong place at the wrong time, might be the only person capable of keeping everyone in check.

SLAYERS Omnibus v3 includes the bookend chapters to the novel series' first major arc. This collection delivers all of the good stuff: strange and incredible spellcasting; clever but not over-the-top magecraft lore; villains who get their comeuppance; and new characters with plenty of issues all their own.

In book seven, Gaav's Challenge, readers are treated to a plethora of entertaining narrative elements, some of which regrettably snare very little time on the page. Lina and the gang trudge toward Dragon's Peak, at the edge of the Kaltaart Mountains, to access a remnant of the Claire Bible. The mythos surrounding the Claire Bible is immense, but filters into readers' purview with somewhat less flair than in the anime, but the reasoning is valid (e.g., there are other access points).

Conceptually, the Claire Bible is remarkable. In execution, however, it's wildly underused. The notion of a body of knowledge stored on a blithely accessible plane of reality, hoarded by those who have no use for it? The Claire Bible is a great example of how fantasy storytelling is both parallel to, and a paradox of, the real world's social, cultural, and political machinations. Lina, of course, is a genius, and she's keen to use it to figure out the universe's darkest magic ("I'm afraid I'm not an enlightened enough being to just roll over and die for something I don't yet understand," page 76).

This book is stuffed with a lot of action and a lot of lore. The fight at Dragon's Peak includes several full-demons, a revelation or two concerning Xellos's true nature, and a deliberate broadening of the novel series' narrative scope. Of the last of these, stepping onto the stage are Hellmaster (Fibrizo) and Chaos Dragon (Gaav), two of Ruby-Eye's five high-ranking demon servants. These are two seriously bad dudes with massive power at their disposal. For readers, the orientation and allegiance of each high-ranking demon is muddled (but assiduous note-taking might resolve this in due time). The good news at this point is that Kanzaka, the author, is dead serious about narrative continuity. Of less good news, this book has plenty of character dynamics that are easy for readers to lose track of (e.g., Amelia almost dies; Gaav isn't an egotistical villain on the lam, he's a sympathetic anti-hero).

In book eight, King of the Phantom City, it's back to Sairaag. Fibrizo artificially resurrects the City of Magic and craters Flagoon (ancient tree) in the process. His baiting of Lina, Zelgadis, Amelia, and also Sylphiel to tread into his so-called Hellpalace, of the City of the Dead, is typical villain stuff. And Fibrizo's snatching up of Gourry, as a hostage, makes the story's climax intuitively time-contingent. But as fans of the franchise likely already know, Fibrizo's ambitions are much, much darker.

The balance between books seven and eight is okay in the moment, but upon reflection, feels slightly off. Book seven is packed with information and intrigue; book eight, essentially, is the open-ended struggle to apply that knowledge. One imagines these volumes were slightly more difficult to consume, on their own, during their original printing.

In any case, book eight is a treat, insofar as spellcasting goes. Lina intuits the limitations of the powers of the higher-ranking demons, she discerns the network of power-sharing that enables her to cast certain dark magic, and lastly and most importantly, she learns the truth about the Lord of Nightmares. Lina does, in fact, "cast the perfected giga slave" (page 204). Controlling it, of course, is another matter entirely. Fibrizo's end is not to be missed.

Altogether, the book's conclusion is excellent, and lacks the fun but romanticized version the anime pulled together. Lina is a pragmatic character, but she's not so stubborn as to ignore what she learned from the matron of chaos firsthand.

Book nine, The Mystic Sword of Bezeld, begins a new story arc. Notably, the novel series pivots in a direction one might have wondered about for years considering the apparent fate of Gorun Nova, the Sword of Light. In the previous book, Fibrizo zapped the magical blade back to the astral plane.

The challenge this time around? Lina is blunt: "Gourry and I were presently on a quest to find him a new magical monster-carver," because, as she notes to the man himself, "I'm not getting a half-decent night's sleep until I find you a half-decent magical sword" (pages 218, 220).

Here, the story shifts onto a lighter beat and reduces the core cast down to Lina and Gourry. The slower pace feels good. And the stripped-down emphasis on characters fighting for one another, rather than fighting to save the whole planet, roots the novel in familiar territory. Sure, there are assassins clad in black. Sure, there are mysterious swords-for-hire hunting for the same treasure as Lina and Gourry. But the scope and scale are manageable.

And when the story is manageable, the worldbuilding can finally breathe again. Losing the Sword of Light gives Lina, as narrator, permission to chat about all of the other fantasy blades that populate the world (and possible swipe for Gourry): the Blast Sword, the Bless Blade, the Red Dragon Sword, the Elemekia Blade, the Dark Lord's Hungry Bone Staff, Ceifeed's Flare Dragon Sword (pages 209, 217). The idea that readers could spend the next few volumes sword-hunting with these two idiots, getting into trouble and feuding all of the way, sounds like an absolute blessing.

But as fate would have it, Lina gets in the way of someone else's carefully laid plans (again). For the umpteenth time, Lina barges in on a high-level demon's plan-in-action, decides she can't quite let things be, and resolves to fight her way through. Granted, the young woman has zero interest in fighting off a "hyperdemon" smothered with the curse of Raugnut Rushavna, but what's a woman to do? When an assassin is transformed by a demonic curse, and is then simultaneously possessed by a demon, the end result is a constantly regenerating creature of death and destruction.

SLAYERS Omnibus v3 is solidly entertaining. The author's increased focus on continuity gives the story a genuine sense of fated consequences (e.g., when a high-ranking demon dies, spellcasters can no longer call upon their power). Further, the book's higher emphasis on character mythology really shows, and portends greater revelations down the line (e.g., if Xellos is a creation of Greater Beast (Zellas Metallium), then who are the priests and generals to the other five servants of Ruby-Eye?). And some facets of the story are just too fun to ignore. Like how Lina's super-powerful big sister is known as "Knight of Ceifeed," but is stuck waiting tables back home. Or how Gourry, apparently, has a sixth sense for sniffing out demons. (Except, he's just too simple-minded to actually do anything about it. Twice in this collection, the guy just goes with the flow.)

The balance between what the narrative reaps and sows isn't perfect, but in reading these three books all at once, one finds the disparity is minimal. Reading about the wicked intensity Lina feels when weighing the ragna blade in her hands never fails to send a chill down one's spine, and the absolute shock of a double-Dragon-Slave still makes one giddy, but alas, there's always more story to tell.

❯ ❯ Light-Novel Reviews || ahb writes on Good Reads

[the-firebird69]

Wolverine vs Deadpool - Fight Scene - X-Men Origins: Wolverine (2009) Mo...

This is a prequel for the Mad Max series and relocation of Mount Cheyenne Complex and is a good size complex it's big below and it gets moved. And it is to try and thwart their plan and it seems to be effective and they all fight over it and it's a little odd and ridiculous but that's what they do and here you see Deadpool but it's Justin and he apparently looks like he is killed and badly the next Deadpool is ben Arnold. His head and body are severed but the fall is deadly and the concrete falling on him is deadly and the others barely got out and how they did was quite unique and of course he would not have lasers that powerful the evidence is gone that it was fired through his skull from a decent sized sphere and destroyed him and people will suspect Ken and he of course says he didn't do it but a fight ensues and he says what would you do he's muscling in on my territory and keeps calling out our names and saying stuff and we don't go anywhere and he doesn't do anything and we have all these goofballs all over us and he goes into some detail it turns out that Ben Arnold understands it he just doesn't approve it and they get into a fight anyways and it goes on for quite a while and this is the culmination of the fight and he is of course crushed to death pulverized and it's no more and that's what it does look like there is a moment that he might be retrieved but you can't see it and they clip away from the interior in other words it is a machine firing through him destroying the thing and it could grab him quite easily but what's left is nothing except the body and an empty head and that might be the idea but we don't think so at the end of the last birth there is a slight burst of light and we feel that he is incinerated what we posted this for different reason and he didn't remember this part and he didn't think it was possibly real. We posted because the general is the one who attracted the attention mostly through this movie to Cheyenne. Prior to that it is Ferris Bueller and Ferris Bueller is BG and he is in the movie as Wolverine and Percy Spencer is the general and he played General Groves no that was not him he was trying to say it but he does expose it and ruins it and people think that he is going to move the place which is stupid because they move it around and they ruin their move and it forces them to try and move our son and they can't get him out and they can't capture him and just sit here doing it for a while but it is coming up pretty quick. And it starts to get very drastic maybe they are fighting like hell over the stuff and when it comes near they stop fighting and they think it might work and they would be forced they say into the Midwest and they want that and they're evacuating it now and that's what they're doing it for. There are going to be huge evacuations occurring all week we don't think so with this bus idea and the planes and the big planes and the trucks trains automobiles which are now leaving it would only be a couple days and they'll be out. It is a massive force and they are heading out after Trump and they believe they can beat him and we think so they're going to go nuts at him and then afterwards and they will evacuate here further we do have news but we're going to publish this it's important and Justin's area is partially the upper Midwest and to the east and the north is Upper Midwest in Canada and he has a smaller facility in Maine and the upper middle portion of Russia and a small one in Europe all of which are in very bad shape and just as he is physically

Thor Freya

Olympus

This sucks pretty bad but it could be CGI it could be someone else pertaining to me and I would appreciate if people wouldn't say this but he says it might happen and it might be Ken that's surprising he's not the only one with these spheres and we attacked the clones no we attacked the idiots some of the ships that Trump has can fit there they're small and have lasers like that and computer tracking so we have to check that and not see who it is without knowing by the way he's the general and he's running Cheyenne and it's perfect spot so it makes more sense our friend says but people wanted it to be Ken to get information trump wants it to be Ken because he thinks the spheres are fake and that explains a lot this guy's an idiot.

justin

[muchadoaboutnot]

super not done but i wanna explore

“I almost died!” Her voice is distraught.

“But you didn’t!” His voice is cheerful.

In the span of forty-five minutes, the longest one she's done so far. Mina ended up solving a series of puzzles- more like an obstacle course as it was unlike anything else given to her, not just a one-off riddle with a clear answer and trip. No, this reminded her of the cases she's read in the Riddler's GCPD files of the complex traps that were meant for Batman. Ones Batman solved easily all the while rescuing hostages also, the asinine but dangerous challenges The Dark Knight was used to. Unlike her.

“As it may be you did take longer than what holds my attention. Usually. But no Bat are you, or one of his little birds, still! You did as well as expected with your new gear, Detective."

He refers to several objects she now keeps on her. They were expensive; she sold two of her high-priced cameras for several pieces of technology one cannot usually get at your local Walmart. A small grappling-hook pistol is the most prized, it's a prototype from LexCorp as well as a few other things. Basically in all intents and purpose, Mina has found herself becoming something of a... 'Am I a hobbyist because of The Riddler now?' She doesn't want to admit the regime she's put herself through the last several months now also of making sure she was in top condition as things started to get a bit more... Dicey.

Yet hold on. Mina's eyes search around the room she currently stands in, green graffiti litter the wall while the projector hums yet the only picture it casts is that of question marks.

“Wait… You were watching this time? No pre-recording? I had your full attention?”

“W-Well, yes.”

His voice lacks that smarmy conviction, even the cheerful brightness from moments ago. No. The Riddler trips over his own words and not the same kind of spluttering he's done in the past with her. In fact, on the other end, he's for once sitting comfortably in front of a series of screens watching her. Not the same setup if it was Batman. He'd be on his feet in front of a camera, projecting himself and speaking to the vigilante. Instead, he simply spoke through the P. A system to her while watching on cameras inside the room.

Something inside him squirms and he's readjusting himself in his seat, watching her look around the room intently. A few times her eyes do pass over several of the cameras and they lock eyes but that's something only he'll ever know. It feels intimate in a strange and perverse way to him, voyeuristic, a feeling he does not get from watching others.

“Let me ask you a question?” She speaks first.

“Go on.” He covers himself by sounding intrigued, moving forward on his chair.

“Do you want me to die? Do you want me to fail, like you want Batman to fail?”

That throws him. He wants to bark out: 'NO!' but he doesn't want to admit anything or show his hand in anything other than... His interactions with her have purely been only for the reason of entertainment. Someone who wasn't a simple-minded sheep of Gotham, someone worthy of a sort of recognition from him! The brilliant and genius that was The Riddler. Yet there was something more that he had no intentions of speaking aloud, or thinking aloud as it only served to take up space inside his mind and cause a distraction.

Mina all the while had been standing around for almost five minutes now, noting the silence wasn't all silent. She thinks he gets close to the microphone as his breath makes a grating, static sound overhead.

She tentatively uses his first name for the first time.

“Edward are you still there?”

The PA system cuts off.

The audacity with him has always been immense, however, Mina had more than proven time and time again she was not to be taken lightly. Because as soon as he cut the audio and shut literally everything down, lights out, the whole building- the frustrated noise that came from her throat was loud enough to echo on the empty walls except for the green art.

--------

It takes about a day in a half before Mina can't control her impulses anymore and she's doing her best to find him.

Not physically.

No.

That was not her style unless she was being paid or it was a good cause; a missing person for example! But he was not a missing person anyone was missing, instead, he was a: "Insufferable fuck ass that is NOT going to just ghost me after months of playing his little games."

Mina talks to herself as she types away on the keyboard in her office. The front door of her office has a 'closed' sign hanging off it, and the frosted glass shows the name, P.I. Query in finely painted letters but also with a crude spray-painted A in front of Query. A query.

She already knows the ramifications of anyone getting into her files or using her work computer to contact him but she's confident he won't pry other than be... Impressed?

She picks at the skin around her nails before

[qqueenofhades]

honestly, reading comics canon & the end of said comics canon while at the same time reading really well-thought-out takes like AITWW which takes what is, indeed, a beautiful queer bit of unpredictability flung into an otherwise faithful adaptation of comics canon and turns it into a whole story of its own-- is really making me personally excited for all the ways fanfic writers can use that as a Spanner in the Works/disruptor for Morpheus's canon ending. being Also An Old that potential gets me far more than anything canon may or may not do with hob, personally.

(which is to say thanks, AITWW has made my own creative brain do several backflips of excited Possibilities. so many possible stories.)

I mean... yeah. Obviously there are a lot of queer characters/themes in the Sandman to start with, but I think everyone imprinted on Dreamling like a baby duckling because a) it fulfills the obvious Grumpy/Sunshine trope that fandom loves, and b) it offers the thing that everyone loved about Our Flag Means Death, where the queer characters got to talk to each other, share interests, develop over time, and actually offer a real emotional basis to ship them as lovers. Of course, OFMD did that in ten episodes as opposed to just the back half of Sandman 1.06, but it's the same thing. And also, I would note that despite all the other queer representations/characters in the show, there isn't really anyone else to actively ship in a canon-supported LGBTQ context? We see Johanna's lover Rachel die in the same episode that we meet her, the Corinthian's entire life motto is be gay and do crimes but you don't exactly ship a serial-killing nightmare with any of the minor characters who he menaces and/or eats, Hal is great but still a bit-part player who gets paired off with Carl in the background, and Alex and Paul are already out of the picture by the end of the first episode. (Besides, Alex, keeping the dude you desperately want to fuck locked up in the basement for decades even after your terrible dad is dead is, uh, Bad.)

Fandom can, of course, imagine and headcanon interactions between various queer characters, but as far as an active, possible, ongoing relationship goes, where we are shown them developing feelings for each other and the narrative makes a point of underscoring them in a romantic context, Hob and Dream are kind of IT. Many shows just throw a queer couple in there as token representation and don't really take the time to actually show why they're compatible as a pairing, but there's so much possibility with Hob and Dream both that is already depicted in-show and can easily be extrapolated from the source material, the actors' and writers' interviews, the themes that are present in their narrative, and so forth. They're one of the most deeply romantic interactions in the whole show, despite never explicitly verbalizing their feelings or having any physical moments. You genuinely believe that these two immortal beings are truly affected by each other, they have incredibly complex feelings about each other, it absolutely means something special for them to reunite, and that no matter what happens, they will never entirely let go of each other. Which I think is a credit to the acting, writing, and how quickly we got that in the course of 20-30 minutes in one episode.

So yes: Dreamling IS a deeply queer and deeply romantic disruption of the source material (in a good way), and offers possibilities that have already been foreclosed or minimalized in other storylines, including in comics canon itself. They're one of the relatively few moments of sheer queer happiness, they were left open-ended and in a good place, Dream is obviously the main character of the whole series so developing a queer relationship for him is more than just what's going on in the background, and I really hope they continue to lean into this when writing/planning future seasons. Obviously, I love them and want to see more of them, but I feel Some Kinda Way about queer immortals, who can persist in all ages and eras of history, and not be consigned to just die, whether from narrative carelessness or Bury Your Gays or whatever else. There's something incredibly powerful about queer characters who literally can't be killed (also why I imprinted on Old Guard so much), and who are shown experiencing and overcoming adversity in so many different ways, and at the end of it, still choosing to keep living. I just have many feelings about that.

[variousqueerthings]

[IMAGE ID: A scale from twink-to-butch with a picture of each of the main doctors from doctor who. The scale runs like this:

five (peter davison), ten (david tennant in his thirties), eight (paul mcgann), one (william hartnell), eleven (matt smith), three (jon pertwee), fourteen (david tennant in his fifties), thirteen (jodie whittaker), six (colin baker), two (patrick troughton), four (tom baker), fifteen (ncuti gatwa), seven (sylvester mccoy), twelve (peter capaldi), nine (christopher eccleston)

END ID]

I HAVE MY REASONS! INFALLIBLE REASONS! TOTALLY OBJECTIVE REASONS:

fifth doctor: twink. Listen, five was not the first to faint, by a long shot, but five gave the impression of a soft, wide-eyed confusion + silly British schoolboy aesthetic, this ain’t just a twink, this is a sub! Look at her hair. That bitch. Originator of true twinkishness on doctor who

tenth doctor: twink. Successor of twinkdom. Is it funnier that it’s peter davison and dt? Yes, absolutely. ten took from the playbook of five, just a baby boy having several years of bad days – the epitome of “I want that twink obliterated” (sayeth the narrative)

eighth doctor: I am going to be honest. I could have put eight at fourth spot, but I think I cannot dishonour eight’s particular aesthetic, or that iconic hip pop. Also the way he offered that cop a jellybaby only to steal his gun and threaten to shoot himself? Im gonna call that twink behaviour

first doctor : I believe that the only thing that separates the first doctor from twinkdom is time. First one is twink, then, eventually, bitchy old man. The actual original twink, if you will, and I think that needs to be honoured. One is like quentin crisp, the grand dame of the show

eleventh doctor: you might think he should go higher up the list, but I don’t think this is a real twink. Moreso at first, less so the further along his series we get, but skinny and manic doesn’t a full twink make necessarily, he’s not got enough of that oooh I’m just a baby booooy vibe to him, he’s just got ADHD and a god complex. He does have his twink moments though, I am not denying that! It’s just not the core of his self

third doctor: I considered and umm’d and ahhh’d about putting him higher up the list, but in the end I think this is correct. I cannot say why. He’s twinkish, foppish, dandyish, but he’s also action hero James Bond doctor. He coos and flutters his eyes at the master and does drag, but honestly he’s just too distinguished for complete twinkdom. Camp, not so twink. In fact the camp is almost genderless in its extremity. Performance!

fourteenth doctor: fourteen sits firmly in the middle for me, and maybe I’m comparing too much to ten who is such a twink, but fourteen is an exhausted creature, and thinking of gender and the nature of butch or twink, fourteen is like. Gendervoid. I’m not claiming here much butchness for fourteen. Fourteen is just. Eye of the storm for me

thirteenth doctor : I genuinely wasn’t sure where thirteen sits. Sometimes she’s pretty neutral – in fact might even put her at true neutral. But then there’s the mad professor aesthetic of the first episode. Spyfall suit. I think, honestly, she’s not butch (I’m so sorry for myself), but she’s not Not sometimes playing in that field. It’s just not often, it’s more that she’ll have a bit of fun here and there. The rest of the time she’s thinking more about eating dirt. i think if fourteen is genderless, thirteen is genderfull

sixth doctor: six is like the inverse of three to me somehow. Where three approaches genderlessness through the nature of Style, six approaches genderlessness through the nature of clown. They’re both the Performers, immediately recognisable through the over-the-top campness of them, but six undeniably just. Blows a kiss to butchness. A gay little wave

second doctor: This doctor is undeniably gay, but the twink in the dynamic is of course Jamie McCrimmon. Pretty Boy extraordinaire. Second doctor does have his moments, but we’re firmly out of twinkdom at this point. This alien is foppish (aren’t they all), but no twink

fourth doctor : this doctor is an old-timey Romantic Hero crossed with a ridiculous boy  – yes, four has poufy sleeves, but the Boy energy is a little bit butch. A teensy bit jock. Smidgeon of sweeping daredevil. A butch whose butchness is based in a regency romance novel

fifteenth doctor: this is a guess, but fifteen is giving butch to me! Fifteen is giving me an inverse of five’s “oh meeee I’m just a little guy,” fifteen is your hip, fashion-forward butch bestie, fifteen works out (this is ncuti’s influence, but listen!), fifteen is at the club in a tank top and leaving in a leather jacket (canonically)! Fifteen LOVES playing with masculinities, look at all the fits!

seventh doctor : THIS BITCH BUTCH? Yes. Seven is Dad. Seven adopted a baby lesbian, like a precursor to twelve and bill. Professor??? Hello!!! A butch aesthetic based less in the physical and more in the academic. Has the ability to be incredibly terrifying through sheer “try-it, I dare you!” energy

twelfth doctor: Is this even contentious? She’s butch – like I said the descendent of seven on the adoption of lesbian children, doing it all with high-femme master. I don’t even know what to say. I suppose the only question is, why is twelve higher than seven if they’re so similar, and all I can say is… vibes. But it could go either way. The electric guitar is something

ninth doctor: we know, but it needs to be said. We all saw your camp sir, we all saw your busted leather jacket and boots butch, we saw, and we appreciated, and we salute you, someone give this butch a forehead kiss and a sleeping pill, she’s running on zero hours of sleep and a fear that if she stops, all the trauma’s going to catch up with him

the doctor twink to butch scale is that anything?

[xximpressions]

Falling For Fairytales (13)

Anthony Bridgerton x black!reader

Series Summary: Taking a slight twist on your classic Cinderella story, you are the daughter of a Marquis who died when you were 18. Several years later, you are told by your stepmother that you must marry this season, or she will engage you to her elderly Uncle. Having no money of your own, you realize you are going to have to strategize if you are going to avoid such a fate. So it's a good thing you run into a Viscount who sees marriage as a battlefield.

Chapter Summary: Your time at Aubrey Hall is an education

Word Count: 1,799

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Bridgerton Masterlist

A/N: I hope you enjoy! As always, much love to my commenters 🥰😘

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The days you spent at Aubrey Hall easily reminded you of your childhood. From the time you woke up to the time you went to sleep, every hour of the day was spent doing something enjoyable.

You seemed to spend time with every Bridgerton since you had arrived at their estate. Of course, Anthony was the first to accost you with his tour of the house. 

As his mother insisted, she did end up joining you both. But you did not mind so much since your Aunt also tagged along which kept Lady Bridgerton preoccupied as they led the tour in front of you. This essentially left you and Anthony with as much privacy as you would be allowed according to decorum. 

But now that you knew what his lips felt like against yours, you found it difficult to keep your thoughts as proper as your conversation.

You kept flashing back to the moment when your lips first met, and every time it played out in your mind, you wanted to raise your fingers to touch the kiss you still felt lingering.

You had no idea such a simple action could create such complex feelings inside you.

And yet, here you were.

Your secret rendezvous with Anthony had unlocked emotions that you were not even aware existed. The burning passion that seared through your body in that moment was unexpected and unlike any other sensation you had experienced before.

You supposed that ignorance must have been bliss because now that you were aware of such a feeling, your mind was constantly preoccupied with your wonderful memories of what Anthony’s kiss felt like.

It was soft and gentle. It was deep and fiery. It was everything you did not know you wanted and more.

As time slowly passed at Aubrey Hall, you kept finding yourself caught in a daydream as you thought about your husband-to-be.

And despite appearing calm and collected, Anthony was assuredly doing no better.

The growing agony of being near you while being unable to touch you was starting to consume him.

Though he knew he would be beyond saving once it happened, he could not find it within himself to regret having gotten a taste of you.

But the problem with a taste is that it only made him crave you more.

So he was grateful for the time he got to spend in your presence as you took your tour. Because when it ended in the foyer, Daphne grabbed and ushered you away claiming that it was her turn to spend time with you.

Over the course of a week, you divided your time with all of the Bridgertons. However, the one you ended up spending the most time with was Lady Bridgerton.

Now that you were to become the next Viscountess, your future mother-in-law had taken you under her wing and began to show you how a house was run. Since your stepmother had neglected to teach you any of this, you were grateful to say the least.

Your gratitude continued to grow when Lady Bridgerton admitted she was showing you these skills so she could have your input for this weekend’s upcoming ball that was being hosted in your and Anthony’s honor.

As affluent members of society, the Bridgertons were expected to host at least one grand event for the season, and what better than a ball to celebrate your engagement to Anthony.

“Lady Bridgerton, are you certain this is not too much?”

You asked as you took in all the activity going on around you. The servants of the house were bustling around in order to make everything look perfect for the soiree. And saying you were impressed was an understatement.

It was becoming increasingly clear that no expense was spared. 

From the flower arrangements to the refreshments, everything screamed elegance, class, and grandeur.

You could only hope you would one day be able to host a ball as wonderful as this one would be.

Taking your eyes off of all the activity, you turned to Lady Bridgerton as she said with a smile,

“How many times must I ask for you to call me Violet? We will be family soon.” 

Since becoming engaged to her son, she had insisted on many occasions to call her by her given name, but you found it difficult to do after addressing her properly for so many years. Still, it brought a warmth to your heart to know that there was no longer a need for formalities with your future relatives.

Through a small laugh, you said,

“My apologies, Violet. I am simply in awe of your talents. This ball will surely leave people in a state of amazement.”

With a laugh of her own, Lady Bridgerton waved off your words by saying,

“Oh, you sweet girl. This is the least I could do for my son and his bride.”

Suddenly feeling someone take your hand, you turned and watched as Anthony gave it a kiss in greeting before he lowered it and curiously asked his mother,

“What is this about ‘your son and his bride?’”

Since he did not let go of your hand after he lowered it, you interlaced your fingers with his as you answered on Violet’s behalf. 

“I was simply telling your mother that the ball will no doubt be a wondrous spectacle given how hard she has worked on it.”

As you finished, Lady Bridgerton made sure to kindly add on,

“Do not be so modest, you helped just as much as I. Give yourself some credit, dear.”

Your smile was bashful as you responded.

“Well everything I did, I learned from you. So the credit is truly yours.”

Before his mother could give a retort, Anthony intervened by saying,

“I am sure you have both done a superb job. I should feel so lucky to have such capable women in my life.”

And finished with a smile directed at both of you.

As your own smile grew on your lips at his words, you gave his hand a squeeze before you turned to him and asked,

“Was there something you needed?”

Nodding his head, he said,

“Yes. Daphne wonders if you know what you will be wearing to the ball?”

With a sly look growing on your face, you eyed your fiancé as you said,

“And allow me to guess, you volunteered to find out for her?”

You made such an assumption since you could easily recall another time Daphne had apparently needed to get in touch with you only for her brother to show up.

With a playful look, he shrugged and honestly replied,

“Well, I wanted to see you. So yes, naturally I volunteered.”

Laughing and shaking your head with fond amusement, you turned back to Lady Bridgerton who had been watching your interaction with joy on her face and said,

“I do not believe I brought a ball gown with me. Do you think there might be one I could borrow?”

As if the mere idea offended her, Lady Bridgerton was quick to say,

“Nonsense! This is your engagement ball! We cannot have you in an ill-fitting dress.” 

Nodding her head decisively, she turned to walk away and said over her shoulder as the distance grew between you, 

“We shall call for the seamstress! I am certain she will be able to put something together for you in time.” 

And continued walking in order to make the arrangements.

It would appear her need to have you in an acceptable gown outweighed her need to make sure you were chaperoned while in the presence of her son. So with her absence, you were left alone with your fiancé.

Well, as alone as you could be with servants running back and forth around you.

You ended up facing the Viscount as he offered his elbow to you.

“May I escort you to the drawing room? That is where I last saw Daphne.”

Agreeing, you took his arm and he began to lead you down the hallway.

You walked in silence for a few moments before Anthony unexpectedly said in a quiet voice,

“Do you think about it?”

Though you had an inkling of what he was referring to, you still asked with curiosity,

“Do I think about what?”

Glancing down at you for a moment, Anthony made sure to look ahead again as he simply replied,

“The gazebo.”

And allowed a coy smirk to grow on his lips.

Swallowing inconspicuously, your mind frantically tried to decide on how to answer before you chose to be truthful.

Responding with a breathless, “Yes”, Anthony nodded his head at your answer and asked, 

“How often?”

As if he were discussing the weather.

Hesitating was not even an option as you immediately replied,

“Often.”

As his smirk turned into a genuine smile at your words, he then chose to say in admittance,

“Me too.”

While you felt your heart begin to speed up, you then heard him declare in what could be mistaken for a whisper,

“In fact, I often think about the next time we will visit the site. There is so much more for us to try, do you not agree?”

You tried to suppress the scandalized gasp that wanted to leave your mouth, but the Viscount still heard your small, sharp intake of breath.

Quickly looking around to ensure no one else heard him, you quietly hissed his name in reprimand.

“Anthony!”

Shrugging, he innocently said,

“What? I was merely sharing a thought.”

Knowing good and well that was not at all true, you tried to rid your mind of the anticipation you felt building at the picture he had created in your head as you reached the drawing room.

After shooting him a discreet look for pulling such tempting, scandalous thoughts from your imagination, you noticed Daphne was still in the room as were a few other members of his family.

As you chose to sit next to her in order to discuss your dress, you made it a point to ignore Anthony and the hidden expression of deviousness he was eying you with.

Daphne helped you figure out a design so that you were able to tell the seamstress exactly what you wanted when she arrived.

Lady Bridgerton must have paid to have your order expedited because your gown arrived just in time to start getting ready for the ball. 

Looking at your reflection after getting dressed, you knew without a doubt that you were nothing but dazzling.

Watching Daphne approach you from behind in the mirror, you heard her ask while she adjusted her gloves,

“Are you ready?”  

Taking one more glance at yourself, you took in a deep breath and thought,

“Here we go.”

As you turned and followed your friend out of the room.

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