#and those props are less central in most stories

[gotjacobian]

hey do you guys wanna see something secret

[lookingforhappy]

Extra Ordinary: My Life as Number Seven - Transcript

(note that there is a lot of random placements & repeated paragraphs. I've tried to connect as much of it as possible, and cut out repetitions to make it flow a little better. Hope this is enjoyable/interesting!)

as much content as I could find from Viktor's book transcribed in one post, picture credit to the TUA Prop Auction:

EXTRA ORDINARY MY LIFE AS NUMBER SEVEN AN AUTOBIOGRAPHY VANYA HARGREEVES Vanya Hargreeves is well known for her virtuosic skills as a violinist. Less understood is the role she played as one of Reginald Hargreeves' adopted children, standing alongside - but never counted among - the famous Umbrella Academy super kids. This is her story, in her own words. "An incredible read... a revealing portal into the amazing life of Vanya Hargreeves and the life she has lived. I couldn't put it down!" -Gerard Way

Vanya Hargreeves is well known for her virtuosic skills as a violinist. Less understood is the role she played as one of Reginald Hargreeves' adopted children, standing alongside - but never counted among - the famous Umbrella Academy super kids. This is her story, in her own words. Extra Ordinary: My Life as Number Seven is a tell-all autobiography by one of the central figures of Reginald Hargreeves experimental and tragic team of heroic children, collectively know as the Umbrella Academy team. In this book, Vanya, ready to expose the truths behind the Academy's operation prior to it's disbanding in the mid-late 2000's, goes all in. With stories and anecdotes from her many years in the shadows. Vanya Hargreeves pulls no punches. No stone is left unturned, and no other member of the team is left unmentioned, for good or for ill.

Chapter One Our parting was sad, but natural in the end. I think about the circumstances of out vastly different births all the time. I've read the newspapers. I've seen the evidence. But at the same time I can't believe any of it. Even if Allison, Luther and all the rest of them were born and collected like the papers say, how did I become a part of this extraordinary family? Was I a dud, an unfortunate super-child who wasn't set up with the right circuitry? Or did I even come from the circle of miraculously born children at all? It made the most sense of any of my theories: a young mother, terrified by a future with a child she couldn't afford, saw the world-wide birth announcement, followed by Hargreeves' request and reward sum. I went through life cursing my mother, determined she was a money-grubbing con artist who sold me away to an eccentric, cold man who couldn't even use me for the purposes he set out. I was carted off like cattle and sequestered to a young life of self-doubt, all because my mother had wanted a payday more than she wanted me. I only sought out my birth mother once. All these news stories kept the identities of the traumatized mothers tightly under wraps, of course, but those were in the upstanding

publications. I believe that any detail about human history, if salacious or powerful enough to cause harm, can be found with the right kind of determination. I found a list of names, and scoured each for signs: did she have a boy or a girl? What had she done with her earnings from Hargreeves? Had she had other children? Where was she now? Two of the women could have lined up with my birth: Allison and I were the only female babies "found" by Hargreeves. It was easy to narrow down once I found pictures of them both: the woman with my hair, and my nose, lived in a small town off the Southern coast of Russia. At least, according to what I could find. I convinced Hargreeves that we needed to take the team there to train, after extensively researching the area's high mountains and secluded trails. It was perfect, and miraculously, he agreed! Thinking back, I wonder if he knew exactly what I was up to and wanted to help. We stayed for five days, and as the others sweated and trained, I kept records, and occasionally went off on my own. For any of the academy members to question Hargreeves' strict schedule or participate in non-approved "free" time would have been unacceptable. But as for me, I wasn't on the schedule in the first place. We spent enough time in Russia for me to track my birth mother down. I took buses, spoke what broken Russian I could to locals, and finally came to the house where I had been told she would be. We spent enough time in Russia for me to learn that the mother I had spent years searching for had died. The family of hers, and I guess of mine, who greeted me there invited me in. They seemed harmless and even kind. But I couldn't stay. Whether my mother knew I wasn't special or not, I realized I didn't want to know. I didn't want to hate a dead person any longer. Now I knew she was gone, it seemed pointless anyway. I've found that focussing on the past can only hurt me further. It's not worth spending any more of my time on the people who have all but forgotten me. I haven't gotten a call

from Allison in years, Diego's out fighting crime, Klaus has been partying himself into a stupor ever since we left the house, and Five is gone. Luther's the only one of us who stayed. I envied him for so many years growing up: Number One, the group's true leader. But now I pity him. Luther could have been anything: he could have had the fame Allison did. He could have gone wild like Klaus. He could have taken to the streets and fought against evil himself like Diego... but he stayed to become Hargreeves' pet. In the end, there was nothing really connecting the seven of us. We weren't related. We were nothing alike. We were just seven strangers living under the same roof: destined to be alone, starved for attention, damaged by our upbringing, and haunted by what might have been. We all wanted to be loved by a man incapable of giving love. Our father never missed an opportunity to remind me that I was ordinary - a hard thing for a little girl to hear. But lately I've started to wonder - what's so bad about being ordinary? From the second we're born we're told to reach for the stars. To accomplish great things. But there is a value in life lived quietly. Going about our days, little by little. Finding contentment in small victories - a promotion, a friend, a beautiful day. Sometimes, the simple things are extraordinary.

so-called rumours about Allison and Luther, no pun intended, I can't say for sure. I'd like to think that what they have transcends words - when we were kids, it was just obnoxious. They spoke in code, swapped whispers. They were part of a world in which we weren't allowed. But as we got older I realised it wasn't some fantasy world they were playing in. Their minds were off somewhere else together. They shared looks and gestures that were meaningless to the rest of us... save maybe Klaus, who can be oddly perceptive when you least expect him to. But as for a romantic relationship between the two of them, that's none of my business. Frankly, I don't want to know. Adopted or not, if it were two of your siblings, would you want to picture that? Their secret conversations were the first sign of what was to come: watching the two of them so happy together, and acutely knowing I could never belong would become an intimate feeling in my life. Soon, they were together on missions. They were training all afternoon. And they were playing games I couldn't learn the rules to. It was all too obvious that there was a club for children with superpowers, and ordinary children like me were decidedly barred. I would say it was Dad who implemented all of this. He caused my alienation through procedures, through harsh rules that we all followed for fear of the alternative. And to an extent, that's all true. I can't forgive what he did to me - but sometimes I wonder where Dad's actions ended and my siblings' began. When you consider what a mind, especially a young mind, will absorb and harness when put into dire situations, it's not at all difficult to believe that my siblings learned cruelty from Dad until they eventually made it their own. It wasn't just the rules keeping me out of top-secret meetings anymore. It just made sense that I should sit at the end of the table, so Diego could help Five's technique, or so Allison could paint Klaus' fingernails. I became accustomed to sulking and watching them from afar - most of my morning oatmeal went uneaten and but thoroughly picked at.

Meals became the one time of day we were all forced to be together - and I met them with equal parts anticipation and dread. Would today be the day I engaged Allison? Could I stand up to Diego's taunts? Maybe I'd show Five the musical piece I'd been working on for weeks. Though prone to arrogance and outbursts, even more than the average preteen, Five was my sole confidante in the years before he disappeared. It almost seemed fitting that of all the siblings to leave us, it would be him who I fully trusted, and who fully trusted me. Five was almost always one step ahead of Dad's manipulations, and he didn't play into the games of favourites like my other siblings. Five always told me that ego was man's most unattractive weakness - he thought himself above competing for fatherly love and prizes. Even then he was beyond his years. I think about Five often, and where he is now. The others say he's dead, caught in a terrible accident, or shredded up in the time space continuum. But I know Five, and I know he was too smart for that. Reckless, maybe, but he's brilliant. I wouldn't be surprised if he were living it up in the seventies now... but hippie hash wasn't really his style. For all I know he's gone to the future and never looked back. If he has, and he's happy, then I am happy for him. I'm sure none of us can say we never had a moment where we wished we could escape. Not just run away, but also go somewhere where Dad couldn't track us down and pull us back into his web. Surprisingly, I only ran away once. Despite everything, it took so much for me to believe I could belong anywhere else but the home in which I was abused. Shortly after Five dissappeared, I took his lead. It was about time I saw what's out there. But I knew nothing other than what I had been taught about myself and my life: I was simply not special. But I asked myself on that day: What if I was special, to somebody else? The rest of the world was ordinary. Maybe the real world was where I belonged all along.

One morning, I left the Academy - my bag stuffed to the gills with clothes, snacks, and mementos I couldn't leave behind. I think I even brought a dream catcher, for fear of nightmares from home following me wherever I went. I only made it to a bus stop, and I sat there all day long - and strangely, for the first time in my life, it hit me that I was completely alone. I had thought I was alone my entire life, but this was something new and entirely different. I was afraid of what I didn't know, and would choose Dad's torment any day over the endless dark that stretched down our street. Buses came, but I waved the kind drivers away. That night, I walked back through the front doors, and no one knew I had ever left in the first place. I wonder how long it would have taken them to realize - the extra girl they never needed was absent. Would it have made a difference? To this day, I'm not sure. The next time I left that house was when we all did. After what happened to Ben. Our everyday existence was full of evidence that Dad had stepped into treating us like experiments. Not as children, but like animals. And what happened to Ben was the last straw that finally shattered the illusion for the others. I regret that though I knew all along what they realised that day, I didn't have the spine to leave on my own. It wasn't until Allison took off for Hollywood and Diego cursed out the old man for good that I realized we were, ultimately, a broken family.

I had always kept up hope that my family would accept me into the fold. I thought that as long as there was a club to belong to, one day they would notice me and invited me in. Everyone would apologize: Vanya, we can't believe we wasted so much time without you, you're our sister after all. But it was then that I realized something massive: there was nothing for me to aspire to be anymore. It was liberating - the life that I had wanted for as long as I could remember was had finally fallen apart. Without "The Umbrella Academy," I had the freedom to be whomever I chose. Suddenly, my violin playing wasn't stupid - it was something that made me special in the real world. It made me enough money to afford an apartment - it's small but it's mine. It got me into an orchestra, a position I got all on my own talents. This meant I could teach young people how to be special for themselves. Teaching became my passion - my own, personal super power. I treated my students how I had always wished my father had treated me: I trained them, I listened to their problems, and I made sure each of them felt loved in their own, special way. Teaching may seem such a small profession to many, but it became the best part of my life.

[literary-illuminati]

2024 Book Review #56 – Tomorrow, and Tomorrow, and Tomorrow by Gabrielle Zevin

At the start of the year, I set out to try and read more proper literature. Tomorrow, and Tomorrow, and Tomorrow was not a book I had ever heard of, or by an author I knew anything at all about. But it was on my local bookstore's and local library’s staff pick lists, and has a bunch of awards, and I think showed up on some list of Goodreads recommendations. So 9 months later I finally worked down the list to it and went in totally unprepared and with zero expectations or preconceptions.

The book’s well-written and well-executed, but I can’t say it really worked for me. Or properly, it absolutely was working for the first two thirds or so, but by the end just felt like it lost a lot of the touches that had made it interesting and was just drowning in its own sentimentality.

The book follows Sam and Sadie, two Californian wunderkunds growing up in Los Angelos in the 1980s. They meet in a children’s hospital, where Sam is being treated for a foot the was nearly shattered in a car crash and Sadie is visiting her elder sister as she’s treated for cancer. The two of them instantly begin bonding over playing Super Mario Brothers and begin a friendship and a creative partnership that will - as they grow up and found an artistically and commercially successful video game studio in the late 90s – define the shape of both of their lives, no matter how turbulent and conflicted it at points becomes.

For reasons that probably boil down to the audiobooks my mother played on road trips as a child, I’ve always had a fondness for books that track the broad sweep of a life or lives, zooming out and stretching across the years and decades. So I actually digested this a decent bit more easily than I do a lot of modern litfic that I’ve tried. For the first few hundred pages, it all even holds together very well, bouncing around the timeline and providing childhood episodes and context as it's relevant and making the central relationships compelling and emotionally plausible. Unfortunately a couple of experiments in form (one worked for me, one really didn’t) eat up a lot of page count in the final act, and entirely kill the sense of flow and structure. Not at all helped by the narrative voice losing a lot of its charm and the story growing wholly predictable (and a bit saccharine) in the closing pages.

I say ‘central relationships’ and not ‘relationship’ because describing the book as being about the relationship between Sam and Sadie is just, basically false advertising? Marx – Sam’s college roommate, later Sadie’s boyfriend, the business manager of their video game studio - is for most of the book at least as important a character as the two leads. He’s a much less interesting character – entirely too much of a natural saint, compared to how very flawed and petty Sam and Sadie are both allowed to be – but he’s a key part of the dynamic and most of the book is properly about different permutations of the trio bouncing off of each other. No other character gets a tenth of the focus and exploration of those three, and are really more props for narrative and to incite development than anything else.

The book has (until the end, anyway) a strong narrative voice that I really enjoyed, but which also may have caused me to set my expectations entirely wrong for what the book was actually planning. The only way I can really describe it is that the book reads like one of those New Yorker longreads that are trying very hard to convince you they’re not just rubbernecking some fascinatingly dysfunctional relationships and personal drama among some semi-notable creative figures. Your Bad Art Friends and similar. Deeply opinionated and gossipy, but making a show of seeming detached and objective, always making asides written from the perspective of the modern day and quoting interviews from years later about events as they occur in the narrative. As someone who is a slightly guilty fan of exactly those kind of longreads, it did make for a very fun reading experience.

But it also made me get my hopes up. Which is to say, the early chapters make quite a few references to how latter in life Sam and Sadie wouldn’t be on speaking terms, and how ‘something’ happened at Unfair Games in 2005. I was looking forward to something some messy and newsworthy interpersonal drama of the kind that doesn’t leave either of them (or anyone) looking good. The falling out does occur, but in a way that’s mostly just piles of misunderstandings and a stubborn refusal to communicate from both of them. The company always stays ostensibly together, and things never get much worse than quietly cherished bitterness and a refusal to speak. Which feels very emotionally believable, as incredibly frustrating as it is. The dramatic rupture that happens in 2005, well-

The book’s use of violence always feels slightly unreal. It intrudes on the narrative in ways that, like, they are things that happen, but feel so exaggerated and on-the-nose they took me out of the reading experience, at least a bit. A woman jumps off her balcony to her death and happens to land right in front of a young Sam. His mother stops her car on an LA highway to avoid hitting a dog, and he asks her something that keeps her talking and not moving for the crucial moment before an SUV slams into them, killing her and permanently damaging his foot. And the great end-of-second-act rupture that occurs in 2005 is a pair of homophobic gunmen storming into their office and shooting Marx because their cozy MMO lets gay people get married. Any one would have been fine, but combined they make the illusion of violence as random and capricious wear a bit thin and the writerly artifice underneath a bit too clear, at least for me.

As far as period pieces go – the story isn’t nostalgia bait, but it isn’t not nostalgia bait, either? It’s a few years before my time, so I suppose I just don’t appreciate it properly – the experience of growing up in and living through the late ‘80s through 2000s is one the book cares deeply about replicating. It generally does an excellent job making things feel of-the-moment, if occasionally by having the narrative draw pretty heavy-handed comparisons to what would be different in the present. The aesthetics (fashion, public art and marketing, fads and consumer trends) are all there, and the characters experience them like people to whom they’re novel and trendy. (Personally I could have done with a bit less effort spent describing every single outfit, but if I had memories of what people actually looked like wearing them I might appreciate it more.) It does similar things with LA and (to a far lesser extent) Boston – every other place the book touches on feels vague and a bit unreal, but LA is rendered with a real sense of place and love for the city and it’s little eccentricities.

The area where the book is absolutely nostalgia-bait is video games, and the whole heroic era of rapid changes and improvements to the medium where new boundaries were being crossed every year and a handful of sufficiently talented and dedicated first-time devs could create something genuinely revolutionary. The book even manages the neat trick of making almost every fake game the protagonists create a) plausible for the era and technology and b) actually seem like something I would want to play (less so the Pioneerville MMO created in the final act, as with many things). But I do genuinely want to play Master of Revels quite badly.

The book does share a common failing with what feels like almost every period piece, where by complete coincidence the major characters all conveniently happen to be on the Right Side of History for every really major (that is, from the perspective of the present, character-defining) political issues. This is made a bit more irritating by the fact that despite all being quite radical on the issue of e.g. gay marriage (or just not being even slightly homophobic) from the vantage of the early Bush administration, none of Sadie, Sam or Marx ever even conceive of it as being political.

The book doesn’t conceive of itself as really having politics at all – but again, in the way of a New York Magazine feature where having certain sets of liberal convictions is just a matter of personal decency and morality. A certain unexpressed but present sexual conservativism, a view of class where Sam’s grandparents owning and running a successful restaurant counts as being from the wrong side of the tracks, hyper-conscious of race but without much to really say about it. You’re all familiar with the style, I’m sure.

Anyway yeah, not a bad book by any means, but one that lasted long enough and ended weakly enough to expend any real passion or affection I’d built up for it.

[my-fancy-hat]

Of all the what-ifs scenarious that been running throught my head from the moment I knew this was the start of the final arc, this is the worst of them all, and its implications terrify me. During the episode, I absolutely loved all the references and tiny appearances of everyone who crossed path w Mob at some point giving him a grain of encouragement through their support! (also props to Onigawara he’s finally at tone w the rest of the body improvement club yess) and we did see how much Mob had improved too, not only in his academic and physical abilities, but also in his confidence, management of emotions and morals. Mob from the first season would have never dared to ask for advice on how to confess to a girl, less call her to ask her on a date, and that makes me tremendously happy I'm so proud of my bebe. Mob has come a long way and the life lessons he has learned thanks to the help of his environment have put the boy on the cusp of his development, but what just happened in this ep puts, in some way I believe, at risk everything that has been built up until now, not only because ???% will destroy and put everyone around it at risk of life, is about the psychological and moral impact it will have on Mob. The reason why this story began was the desire to change and control his powers because Mob was scared of himself (due Ritsu’s accident), that's how he met Reigen and forged his bond with him. Now, in the aftermatch, when mob opens his eyes (I don’t think he’s dead first of all) and sees what he did again and who he injured this time, how is he going to take it? that all his efforts during these years were in vain as he caused a disaster harming his loved ones once again? that's stuff enough to disown your entire way as futile. I don’t see Mob deserting of it either but I hope that he has enough mental strength to forgive himself for what will happen, and I only hope that those involved do not resent or get badly injured from this situation, and with this I want to mention Tsubomi, who is the one who is most at risk by proximity to the scene. So far no clear answer has been given on how to stop ???% but if I have to bet on something or someone who will not obey reasoning and try to save him somehow it will be Reigen., and here’s where I'm shitting my pants. Since Dimple died? dissapeared? I don't trust this series to keep the main characters well and safe less if this’ finale and honestly I fear for Reigen, a lot. I don’t see him dying but I’m still worried!!!!! 

When it comes to the central theme of this final arc, and I hope I didn't get the wrong idea, it has to do with rejection/acceptance and authenticity; I will be loved/accepted for who i am?. This topic highlights 3 characters on screen imo: Mob, Tsubomi and Reigen. Tsubomi and Reigen use social masks that hide their true selves., very uselful facades that helps them a lot to pass by throught day by day and gain people’s admiration and respect, but this convenient cynicism it only further isolates them from deep connections and genuine acceptance. Mob on the other hand, he is honest with his feelings, faithful to his values ie authentic; he did not deny or hide his insecurities or flaws instead he corrected them and improved them into a more kind and open persona: if Mob may to be loved he will be for who he is, not for what he should be. In this foil - authenticity representation between Tsubomi-Reigen vs Mob, I still do believe Tsubomi will reject Mob anyways (hunch) even if he did everything alright. You don't have control of who accepts or reciprocate your feelings and that’s okay! that’s one of the crude truths you have to learn in life and I see this is where is going. In regard to Reigen, he needs resolution to his struggles as they were bringed back in this very rare and open-vulnerability moment w Serizawa (loved that scene fr) “if I were to show who I truly am, no one will be able to accept me” and that’s, ugh I want to slam his face with the door (affectionate). Reigen has to overcome this anxiety/fear of rejection and express his true self especially to Mob since he’s the most precious person in his life. Also, this is gonna be the most difficult thing will Reigen do bc this is the one thing he's scared the most, to disappoint his student culminatting on Mob abandoning him uhuhj but no matter what Mob will always support and love his master and Reigen needs to know that! needs someone’s acceptance as a first step! this incluiding his fears, flaws and mistakes. Now on how this is gonna play out, will Reigen have to do this orden to save Mob from ???% ? idk. At last, I want to mention that this is the perfect set-up for Dimple to come back and save the day (in denial). I can’t wait for next ep it will be cathastropic for my health

[isaac963]

Just saw the Barbie Movie today, and what an achievement of a film. So layered so complex, simultaneously tongue-and-cheek and angrily relevant. While many have pointed out the central themes of the issues faced by women, I think there is another message Margot Robbie, Greta Gerwig, and co-writer Noah Baumbach are telling audiences. Both Gurwig and Baumbach are members of the Writers Guild of America, and Baumbach even skipped the premier in protest. I think their professional frustrations with the major studios was on full display in this film.

A live action Barbie film was first announced in 2009 by none other than Universal Studios. After the project faltered, it went to Sony pictures in 2014, with Amy Schumer slated as the lead. Yet, creative differences between parties involved lead to that project fizzling out, and the rites reverted back to Mattel in October 2018. Those involved on the creative leadership side of the film all departed. Mattel then approached Margot Robbie, who not only signed on as the lead, but helped produce it with her and her partner’s production company LuckyChap Entertainment. Robbie pitches the film to Warner Bros, who green light it, and then taps Gerwig to join the project as Screenwriter, and eventually Director. Written over the pandemic, principal photography began March 22, 2022, wrapped July 21, 2022, and was released nearly a year later July 9, 2023 to critical and audience acclaim. 14 years in the making on a property picked up and put down by many, it’s surprising this film came to fruition, and we were given a gem. It’s also clear that MANY hard working people brought this film to us.

Barbie makes reference to many other films and classic film genres. It begins as 2001: A Space Odyssey, it uses narrative voice over, The Matrix gets a shoutout, 300 (not a direct reference, but the Ken battle has a lot of slow motion that I would argue is alluding to 300), even a choreographed old Hollywood dance number. And though Barbie, being the pop culture icon that she is, could surely stand in its own limelight, so why would Gerwig and Baumbach do this? Why allude to other films in your own film, why make that creative choice? I don’t think it was just to be funny, or meme-y, the film does so much of that, to great effect, without alluding to other works of film. I think they’re telling us Barbie is also about film, and the rotten state of the film industry. From that perspective, what else does this movie do that other films just don’t do anymore, and why do it this way? Every set piece was practical, built on a sound stage, every prop was practical, every accessory crafted, every backdrop was painted and lit, and it ALL looked amazing. The transition from Barbieland to California, all of those moving set pieces (the rocket, the boat, the snowmobile) were PRACTICAL made of plywood, foam, paint, and RIGGED to move. Surely, doing that in green screen would’ve been easier, and used less materials, why do it this way? I think it’s a rebuke of the studio executives.

To me, it says cinema is first and foremost an art form, and incredible things are possible when you let your artists tell the stories they set out to tell. It can be incredibly lucrative when you trust your creative professionals to do well and properly compensate them for it. Cinema, second most, is a business, but executives don’t make films. Workers do. The workers who built that dream house, hung those lights, sewed those costumes, applied that makeup, delivered that catering, swept and mopped at the end of the day. They made a film that’s now made over $700 million dollars (and still going) for a studio that invested only $145 million. How much of that went to salaries is not public knowledge. 1,100 people were credited from cast to catering, nearly all of whom will receive no further compensation for the extraordinarily profitable film. On top of that, executives are trying to find ways of replacing some of them with AI.

Which brings us to Mattel’s depiction in the film. Though it says Mattel on the building, I think Gurwig, Baumbach, and Robbie mean all corporations. Warner Bros., Amazon, Netflix, all of em will put profit over people, profit over art, EVERY time. They want to twist tie all of us into our Barbie boxes, make us forget we have agency, make us forget that we’re not commodities to be sold. They may have the patents and the copyrights, but Barbie belongs to everyone, our experiences with Barbie belong to us. Pantone 219 c, a color on the visible light spectrum belongs to everyone in spite of what Mattel will say (I love ya Stuart Semple)! “Do you guys ever think about [the stupid rules we’re told to follow before] dying?”

I feel the film makers were truly conveying the dissatisfaction of the workers of Hollywood, people everywhere really. Proud to work hard and honestly, but angry at their exploitation. The patriarchy marring Barbie’s dreams, just as Hollywood marred the dreams of movie makers.

10/10 Go see this movie.

[assim-eu-sou]

i've been thinking about making a short story set in alabama and with a southern gothic vibe, but i've never been to alabama and i'm not sure how to aproach it without seeming alien or weird (not sure if that's the correct term...). i saw your mini review and thought it'd be correct to ask... thoughts?

(y por cierto, es raro ver a una persona que también le guste violetta, jjajjj. saludos desde españa!)

Wow, thanks for asking! I don’t see any reason why you shouldn’t write something set in Alabama; in fact, I’d love to see more stories set there. It’s a place that contains multitudes, really. It seems like maybe your story will be set in the past, but I’ll give a bit of a present day perspective, as it’s what I’m most familiar with. While the context may be a little different, the ideas are the same across time. I'm putting a readmore because it got a little long 😅

Many Alabamians say that they’d never want to leave the South because everyone is so nice here. Well, it’s partly true, but also not. Many people here have good manners. They greet you with a smile, call you “ma’am” or “sir”, and show a lot of hospitality. But sometimes, it is all a mask. We’ll say something like “bless your heart”, which sounds nice, but it can actually be very condescending. Manners can cover up a lot of contempt, and the way someone treats you may not at all resemble the judgement with which they view you behind closed doors. Many are afraid of that which is different or unfamiliar, whether it’s race, religion, or sexual orientation. And while they may not be outright hostile, you will feel it. A more benign example, but I’ve seen the subtle shift in someone’s gaze when they asked where I went to church and I told them Methodist instead of Baptist.

There are a lot of different worldviews that you’ll find in Alabama. Stereotypically, it’s a very conservative place, and this reputation isn’t unfounded. The presence of religion, specifically Southern Baptist, influences many things regardless of whether you subscribe to the belief system or not. Within those walls, you’ll find some things that are very inviting, and others that are deeply uncomfortable. To sing in a choir, to have a community of support, to have a Southern potluck dinner, to be treated to that classic hospitality when you visit for the first time… these are all things you might find.

But you will also find that many of the kids in your classes at school have been taught to believe that men and women should not desire to be equals, that women are created to be man’s helper. These kids will rally against “illegal immigration” but cross the border for a “mission trip” where the only thing they come back with is pictures with “less fortunate” kids as props for their social media accounts. They claim to be ardently pro-life, but believe the right to bear arms is God-given. And if you don’t believe exactly what they believe, they will pity you, because the fate of your soul keeps them up at night. I feel sorry for them, I really do, because they never really had a chance.

That’s not everyone, though. Alabama has always been and continues to be a place of resistance. Birmingham, Montgomery… one who studies US History might recognize these names as central to the Civil Rights movement. Birmingham continues to be the progressive heart of the state. There are marches that I’ve been to and marches I wish I could have gone to -for safety, liberation, pride- that all took place there, a reminder that there is more to Alabama than meets the eye.

So back to your story. I’m not an expert in the Southern Gothic genre, but the way I see it, it seeks to expose the rotten underbelly of something that has been perceived as idyllic. I think there’s a lot of narrative potential in that manners vs deep judgement juxtaposition that is so prevalent here. It’s an almost uncanny element of the culture. A religious lens could also be utilized to create some tension. I imagine you already have done so, but doing some additional research into the Antebellum period can’t hurt.

Anyway, let me know if you have any more questions! Y sí, últimamente estoy un poco (muy) obsesionada con Violetta 😳.

[greatwesternway]

They Sure Do Talk Funny

So I hear Beau's gettin' a new fancy-ass toy. Good for him! I too am confused as to why, because I know that these decisions are made based on financial logic and not for reasons like that Beau absolutely fucks.

I mean, look at this fkn guy. Gotta a whistle and a bell, lookin' majestic as all hell. He's Sam Elliott if Sam Elliott were a train!

But more than that - and even beyond that he and I have roughly the same dumbass accent - Beau is the centerpiece in what I think is quite a bold move for the series.

The show tended to shy away from harsh realities that the books liked to play with every so often. Especially as Sodor's economy improves - and as specialization in steam maintenance is centralized locally to the Steamworks - consequences for dumbass train behavior are far less steep than they used to be. Back in the day, if a train acted a fool, he ran a significant risk of meeting severe and often permanent consequences for it.

While the show never addressed the Culdee Fell Railway (which, fine, those trains are weird looking) and so it never spoke of Godred, they did take a stab at Duke's story about the Mid Sodor Railway's No. 2, Smudger. Like in the books, though, the logical conclusion of his fate is never seen. The fact that they kinda glossed over what dieselization and scrapping actually entailed for Stepney's storyline? They clearly did not want to get too heavy with the subject matter. They would flirt with it, use vague scrap engine props and that scary-ass smelter yard set, but it was never explicit the way the books made it.

So it's absolutely wild that they'd not only fill out the trilogy of cautionary tales with Thomas as the subject, but also throw in what amounts to a train corpse right next to him so he can Think About That.

And Beau is definitely of the same school of thought as Culdee and Duke when it comes to puttin' the fear of Uselessness in a young, reckless engine. Had he caught Thomas before he ate shit, he'd probably had used that rusted husk of a train the background to illustrate the point that there may not be anyone coming to save you out here in the middle of nowhere (bein' that this is the real-ass middle of nowhere, not just Maron).

But since Thomas did eat shit, Beau can just use Thomas himself to make that point. Trains who come off the rails out here get dusty and rusty. Thomas is already dusty and he'll be gettin' dustier still! Doesn't look like rain at least, so there's that!

But Beau's also got a bit of wise-ass to him too. He mentions that engines can be placed back on the rails without a breakdown crane, but it is most definitely a question of resources and motivation on this railway. And then, guffawin' to hisself about it as he is still explaining this, he just leaves! He purposely let it be known that rescue is a possibility, but he also purposely did not imply at all that he would make any effort to see to it. He even took Thomas' and Ace's crew with him, which puts a real question on how this is going to end if there's no human element to this predicament anymore.

Beau does eventually come back with a full crew to haul Thomas and Ace back on the track and reload his cars - southern hospitality! - but consider. If Thomas had known help was coming, would the situation have seemed quite so dire? Doubtful. But after spending an evening under the stars, staring at the corpse of some other hapless dope who was in his same situation and met a cruel fate for it, contemplating train mortality, thinking about all the poor choices he made that led him to this and how he might never get to correct them?

I betcha his ass'll mind the speed limit after that!

[olderthannetfic]

re: racist fic, what I've mostly seen isn't single examples of horribly racist fics, but patterns in characterization over lots and lots of fics.

example: I liked winter soldier and read a fair bit of stevesam fic because they had a great dynamic in that movie. but after AOE and especially civil war, the stevesam stuff pretty well vanished in favor of stucky. and if Sam showed up at all, it was in a very mammy-ish role, where he baked cookies and played counselor for Steve and seemed to have no inner life of his own.

if it had been just a few fics, whatever. but the huge flood of them--while at the same time seeing the fandom pick apart every tiny microexpression on Steve and bucky faces while treating Sam like a prop..... it all came together into something undeniably racist.*

you can't point the finger at any one fic or fan when this happens. taken alone, no single fic might merit a "racism" tag. it's the snowball effect of all of them. and I just cannot see an easy solution to it.

*disclaimer: I'm not hating on stucky or anyone in the fandom, it's just one example of a pattern of sidelining black characters that I've seen in a lot of fandoms.

--

Yeah. I see those situations all the time.

One extra problem, on top of nobody being at fault specifically, is that the general pattern happens in all fandoms. Sam gets sidelined into the Free Therapy Friend role, and the choice of whom to sideline is undoubtedly influenced by racism. However, if he were white, it would still happen.

Look at Harry Potter fandom. In most fic shipping Harry with anybody other than Ron, Ron is either the prop best friend or the equally stock Impediment To The Ship friend, usually via cartoonish homophobia or jealousy.

I walked into TWS excited to see Bucky come back (I love characters coming back from the dead). I walked out a Sam/Steve shipper. But the things that make me like Sam are the same things I suspected would make him a less popular shipping choice. Yeah, he's also an adrenaline junkie nut when you really dig deep, but the vibe the movie gives him is the super sane, supportive friend who is just so stable he can handle the most ridiculous shit. I always go for this character. Which means that if there's a black guy in the cast, I always go for him because our casting is hella racist. Fandom's favorite broken-but-beautiful disaster who takes over everyone else's life with his drama trope is cast as a white guy time after time after time. Unless you watch Asian media or something.

What I noticed after TWS is that a lot of people were pleasantly surprised by Sam, but that at the same time, the FLOODGATES of Stucky opened. I did not stay in the fandom, but I have a feeling that it's less that these later movies made Stucky overtake Sam/Steve and more that most ships peter out after a bit, and it was only at that point that Sam/Steve fans were forced to notice just what abnormal staying power Stucky had.

If canon were about an epic, star-crossed bromance with a black guy and treated him as the woobie who gets all the humanizing closeups, that might be enough to somewhat disrupt fandom's usual pattern of not caring about black characters. But casting the black guy as the supportive friend who comes in half way through the incredibly epic loss and recovery story is not going to do it. Not even if he's massively charismatic and gets good one-liners. Big shipping trends also tend to kick off at the very beginning of a franchise. "How Steve and Bucky reunite" had already been going strong as a fic genre before TWS came out. It's hard to unseat that even when you don't add racism to the mix.

It's not nearly such a big fandom, but the closest analogy I can think of is Star Trek: Discovery. And unsurprisingly, a lot of that AO3 section is Hugh Culber/Paul Stamets. I know a lot of people still felt like the couple was sidelined too much in canon, but they're still arguably a central-to-canon epic romance with return from the dead.

So yes, the lack of Sam/Steve is racism in the sense of fans just not being into the black guy "for some reason", but it's also everything else about how canons tend to play out.

[sonofthesaiyans]

Not buying it

I so do not buy this crap that Sasha Braus had no place in season four because her humored nature clashed with the “much darker shift” that came with her totally unjustified death scene. Isn’t the fact that her treacherous former friend who sold her out to the enemy by staying mum about the future is now laying waste to the whole planet sort of a dramatic enough shift as it is? Especially when you take into account the fact that Eren was already deadset on this plan before the events of that motherfucking episode/chapter? She had to die why? 

We know why, to promote some fucking twelve-year old who serves as a very in-your-face parallel to Eren who happens to have the dumbest luck in the history of anime. But again, WHY? Still not seeing what Gabi Braun added to this and not a single one of her fans can clarify a payoff to her. Or why there was no room in the story for both girls. For a lot of people who think we’re closeminded for hating the bitch’s guts, THEY are the ones who are closeminded for not considering any other path other than the one Isayama chose. And taking the finale back into account, I think we can conclude he chose wrong. 

Yet they keep that moron Connie alive who has had some pretty crass comedic moments that just don’t land like Sasha’s did. Really shows was a prop he is without her. Why is this guy alive again? 

On the contrary, Sasha’s nature is EXACTLY why she’d have been a perfectly valid source of drama amidst all this chaos, and not reduced to a plot device along with her family, adoptive sister and NOT-boyfriend who all got reduced to the same lowly status for some fucking bastard child. Just imagine Sasha coping with all of this, the entire world falling apart around her. Trying to make sense of her old friend’s betrayal. Trying to make sense of Gabi and Falco after their part in accidentally triggering the holocaust. 

Take what we got from Connie and the rest of the band. Someone here want to try and convince me what we got still sounds better than what could have been? I still stand firm that Connie should have been the one shot if Assassin’s Bullet was so goddamned important to the saga. Same narrative effect achieved, less damage done on multiple fronts. Bias be damned. 

I also am not buying those fans who claim to be a Sasha fan but love Gabi as well or worse, FORGIVE HER. So they’re saying Gabi was worth that loss? A latecomer has more value over one of the central, and one of the most beloved mains? I know this moron on Twitter who is always talking about Sasha passionately, but STILL forgives Gabi and does so without irony. Another one of those losers who thinks spouting “GOAT” at every turn makes them sound clever. SMH. I think that circle of fans is especially out of touch. 

And then there’s articles like THIS, which confirm what we all knew about Isayama’s actual intent: https://www.cbr.com/attack-on-titan-gabi-best-sniper/

Did I mention what a self-indulgent prick this author is? 

The potential was there for something far better that would have made season four more watchable, even if it didn’t necessarily save the season. Or the timeskip, the manga, fuck it. These rants may be endless but, fuck it, guys. Fuck it. When someone goes out of the way to insult our intelligence this much, I don’t hold back. 

Anyone get an answer on that missing breastplate yet? Sorry, but if this moron wants to create plotholes to pardon himself of a nonsensical decision, that ain’t happening. 

There is no Attack on Titan without Sasha. Or with Gabi Braun. I’m just gonna keep going until Eren and Mikasa finally get together. 

[littlemisssquiggles]

Ruby Alone

As you all have seen, since prior to the last episode, I’ve been sharing my thoughts and ideas on the theory of V8 concluding with the “death” of RWBY after they fall “off Remnant and into a mysterious Other World”, as alluded to by Oscar.

While I’m still inclined to believe that theory may become possible given what transpired in this recent episode, in reviewing the RWBY V8 Opening, I noticed something interesting about the visuals again which caught my attention.

During the opening, RWBY falling was hinted much earlier in the theme during these shots right here. It’s these two shots of RWBY’s signature weapons falling through negative space which is later followed up by the opening ending with the weapons landing together on the ground.

However, here’s the bit that I think is noteworthy that I didn’t take into account before. Although the weapons of all four main girls were shown falling together through space and landing on the ground, not only is Crescent Rose the last one to hit the ground but it is also the ONLY one shown in the final shot of the opening.

It is also worth noting that the weapons fall in this particular order---first Ember Celica, then Gambal Shroud, then Myrtenaster and final Crescent Rose which ironically spells RWBY backwards.

And going back to my theory about RWBY falling in order....with Yang falling first then this is all starting to make more sense.

Going back to my point---Crescent Rose---Ruby’s weapon is the only weapon that landed on the ground but didn’t fade to darkness like the others. Instead, Crescent Rose is the only one remaining in the snow on what appears to be Remannt. Keeping that in mind, it’s making me start to ponder an alternative to my V8 finale theory. 

What if…I’m actually mistaken about the whole RWBY team falling prey to the Other World ? 

What if…as an alternative prediction, V8 will end with Ruby as the last man standing and the sole surviving member of her team after the rest “die” to the void?

Thus; V9 becomes Ruby’s story as she deals with the depression of losing her whole team; all obviously culminating with her eventually reuniting with them in the Other World. But before that, it’s mostly just about Ruby. Not RWBY. But just Ruby since RWBY started with just Ruby on her own in Remnant, trying to become a huntress. She only ends up going to Beacon and meeting and forming her own team due to Ozpin’s influence.

So imagine if...after everything she’s been through these last eight seasons, things just go back to how they were before. Ruby is on her own again. No team to lead. No big sister to guide and protect her (although ALPNE is there of course). No “BFFs” or “future-sister-in-law” on the same team to fuel her spark of hope. She no longer has her main friends by her side.

Ruby will be on her own for the first time in a long time and it becomes just her story for the most part of V9 as she does her best to figure out things all while the rest of the cast who survived the fall---Penny, ALPNE and their allies in Vauco and eventually Vale---try to provide her with the emotional support that she needs in place of the one she lost.

For the first time, the story is not about Ruby having to be the spark of hope to support others but…her friends, at least the ones she still have, coming together to support her for once in a time when she can truly need it.

Like I said. It would be the story of Ruby. Not RWBY. Just Ruby. If you get what I mean.

...And now for a squiggly rant...about Ruby:

One general complaint that I’ve heard from the FNDM about Ruby including Little Red Ruby fans like myself is that Ruby has more or less received the shortest end of the stick in terms of development over the past couple of seasons since V4…despite the fact that she is our central main character who is the leader of our core team with her name literally being in the title. Not to mention that Ruby is also the face of the RWBY franchise. When RT isn’t promoting the whole RWBY team together, it’s mainly Ruby to represent RWBY since of all the girls, she is the main one as the main protagonist of RWBY. At least…she’s supposed to be?

To be blunter, I’m just going to call out the fat Heffalump in the room---Ruby Rose, despite being the leader of RWBY---despite being our title character and face of the franchise---the one characters in the show always turn to since she’s THAT important---despite all of that, Ruby has NOT felt like the actual main protagonist of RWBY for several seasons. Since V4 as some fans like to point out. 

And after closely observing her story over the last few volumes, I can’t help but agree with these critiques and comments of Ruby’s treatment when it comes to her own writing. Even when the CRWBY showrunners DO attempt to do stuff with her---it all falls...flat especially when you compare Ruby to other characters like Jaune Arc, for example, whose stories and overall development were handled much better. At least in my opinion.

Don’t believe me? Take for example, Ruby’s whole so-called “arc” as a Silver Eyed Warrior. First it was introduced as a new idea for Ruby during the FINALE of V3, then it got abandoned for two whole seasons between V4-V5. Then it got reintroduced back in V6 but was then rushed and dropped yet again for V7 only to be brought up again briefly during V8…kind of?

It’s really telling when you realize that Ruby gained control of her silver eyes despite never truly receiving any actual training from Maria in how to control her powers. Not only that but the showrunners really did Maria Calavera dirty. She was supposed to be the wise old mentor who was a badass in her prime meant to pass down her wisdom to her young eager apprentice who knew nothing of her own unique abilities including its mysterious origins.

Instead Maria didn’t know at all about where her powers originated from until she conveniently met our heroes after the Argus Ltd crash and just happened to be present when they asked Jinn about Oz’s secrets. Instead of being a mentor to Ruby which she was initially propped up to be, Maria ended up being relegated to the Granny Uber Driver of the hero team---no longer the wise experienced ex-huntress whose supposed to be teaching our title character but just a form of transportation who provides the occasional comic relief and support for Pietro Polendina, who she was put to work with…instead of Ruby…her alleged apprentice?

 Shoot---despite being a Silver Eyed Warrior, Ruby was never even a person of interest for this volume. Despite the main big bad being in Atlas and despite targeting her in the past, Salem…never goes after Ruby again while she’s in Atlas??? Ruby never even meets Salem? Despite…Salem targeting Ruby back in V4? Despite Salem’s history with capturing Silver Eyes? Despite Salem’s connection to Ruby through her mother???

Ruby is never actively a part of the Salem subplot on Monstra…even though… certain developments left over from previous seasons indicated that she should’ve been?

Instead…we got to watch Yang accost Salem for Summer Rose’s death after SHE is the one to be on the rescue party to save Oscar from Monstro. Even though…Yang has neither been a person of interest to Salem before NOR has the Xiao Long girl been shown to be a close affiliate of Oscar in the past prior to V8 NOR has the Xiao Long girl actually addressed Summer Rose as her mother since V2???

Up until V8, Ruby has always been the character of focus with all things Summer Rose and Salem and yet…we NEVER saw her meet Salem in the flesh period for this season…at all…???

Instead; Ruby spends MOST of this season cooped up at Schnee Manor, completely absent from and even oblivious to some of the more dire PLOT stuff that was happening outside of Schnee Manor (such as YJR going into Monstra to save Oscar before the Aces Ops blew up the whale).

Despite her connection to Oscar who became Salem’s prisoner. Despite her connection to Salem through her mother. Despite being a Silver Eye and a former target of Salem. Despite the Hound and what it turned out to be. Despite the showrunners literally teasing Ruby meeting Salem face to face back in V7---WE NEVER GET TO SEE RUBY MEET SALEM IN THE FLESH AT ALL DURING V8 WHILE SALEM IS IN ATLAS???

Salem targets Oscar which makes perfect sense given his connection to Ozma as his current incarnate. But Salem doesn’t target Ruby? DESPITE HER BEING A TARGET OF HERS IN THE PAST? DESPITE HER BEING A SILVER EYED WARRIOR? DESPITE WHAT THE HOUND REVEALED?

Why didn’t Salem send the Hound after Ruby? That would’ve made more sense, again knowing what the Hound actually was? Instead the Hound was sent after Penny which, in my opinion, felt mighty redundant since Salem already had Watts and Cinder Fall dealing with Penny.  

THEY EVEN TEASED THE HOUND TARGETING RUBY BUT IT WAS ALL A FLUKE.  RUBY IS COMPLETELY OMITTED FROM THE SALEM SUBPLOT EVEN THOUGH SHE IS THE TITLE CHARACTER AND THE ONLY ONE ON TEAM RWBY WITH A LEGIT CONNECTION TO SALEM AND HAS BEEN A TARGET OF HERS SINCE V4???

I DON’T GET IT!

…BUT… with my mini rant aside, those are just a few of the inconsistencies that I’ve noticed in the writing of RWBY in respect to Ruby Rose.

Overall; the point I’m trying to make here is this: for the sake of sounding like a Negative Nancy, I ask this honest question to the CRWBY Writers. How? How can you fumble this much with your own title character? I’m not saying this to come off disrespectful. I’m saying this as someone who has followed the story of RWBY since the get-go and has closely observed the treatment of its characters; particularly the main ones and particularly the ones that I personally love and Ruby is one of them.

Despite being our main girl, Ruby’s writing hasn’t been the squeakiest, admittedly. As a matter of fact, it’s been quite messy since V4 due to the amount of times the showrunners have introduced ideas for her only to abandon them later on thus creating those problems with consistency I mentioned earlier.

Overall, it’s difficult for me to even say that Ruby is the lead character of RWBY since often times; she doesn’t FEEL like the main protagonist despite the show claiming how important she is meant to be. And this sentiment is due in part to how messy her story is handled compared to other characters of lesser importance.

And it’s a sad thing for me to say as both a viewer and fan of Ruby’s character since Ruby is THE lead main character of RWBY. She’s like the Tony Stark of the RWBY-verse. She’s the one who started it all yet her story is one of the messiest I’ve seen in terms of direction and treatment. At least by my observations since this is just my opinion on the subject matter.

It’s one thing to blunder a bit on your side or even your supporting characters. But to slip up on your lead characters, especially your MAIN one who is the FACE of the show, c’mon CRWBY Writers.

And the events of V8 didn’t help change my opinion. After taking away all the bloat this season had for all the stuff they tried to shove into this one season, I realized that V8 didn’t really do much for Ruby. At least, not as much as I anticipated.

I was hoping that Ruby would’ve been a more focal character for V8 since V7 teased some stuff for her in respect to Salem. Instead, I watched a season where Ruby felt more like a supporting character for Penny Polendina since, in my opinion, Penny received much more focus and better development for V8 while Ruby, our LEAD took backstage to her story.

Because while Ruby was stuck playing supporting character, she was actively left out of subplots that she should’ve been a major part of. Not just because she’s the “protagonist” but because of elements to her story that were developed seasons prior but seemed to have gotten dropped for V8?

Ruby’s treatment for V8, to me,  is an example of a “build-up with no payoff”. All that stuff between her and Salem and her mother felt like it ultimately didn’t matter in the end because Ruby didn’t even meet Salem. 

Yang, to me, had the development with Salem that Ruby should’ve received.

Shoot---Ruby wasn’t even a thought on Salem’s mind…despite the events V4 and V7???

I just don’t understand. 

But like always, this is just how I feel about it. I’m disappointed with how Ruby was done for this season. While I liked the moment she shared with Blake in V8CH8 and Yang in V8CH11...that’s pretty much the ONLY thing I liked about Ruby’s story for this season. 

Outside of that, it felt to me like the showrunners didn’t do much with her for V8. In a season of so much happening, the stuff that happened with Ruby on her side of the story didn’t honestly stand out to me compared to what I saw the showrunners do for other characters who aren’t the lead this season.

It’s not like I’m trying to say she didn’t receive any development at all for V8. It’s more like most of what was done with Ruby didn’t quite stand out to me so it ends up feeling like not much was done for her. 

To me, Ruby falls into the same category as Nora Valkyrie for this season. Despite the PLOT preaching about them getting big developments, if you rock back and actually analyse the narrative, you’d actually see that not much was done for them despite the PLOT “talking the talk but not walking the walk” y’know what I mean?

And going back to Ruby, that’s disappointing since I wanted more for Ruby. I EXPECTED MORE for Ruby as our title lead but it didn’t happened. Instead it felt like some of the major developments that she should’ve received for this season went to other characters while she in turn took a backseat.

Things didn’t really start kicking up for Rubes until halfway through the season when the 100th episode aired and the Hound appeared. And even then the excitement of that reveal was short-lived since...Ruby was NOT the real target of the Hound. PENNY WAS. The Hound wasn’t sent to antagonize RUBY. It was sent for Penny which to me sort of undermines the reveal.

Some Ruby fans have been wishing for the show to feel more about just Ruby again for quite some time now and it is for this reason why I’m starting to dig this alternative theory of mine with Ruby surviving “The Fall of the Central Zone” alone with the rest of her team lost to the Other World.

While the concept of RWBY being trapped together in another world is still on the table of possibilities, I still wish to toss out this other one too.

I like the idea of a more Ruby-centric season where for the second time in the narrative, she’s separated from her core teammates only this time…it’s in “death” or rather “nonexistence” or “nothingness” since from Ruby’s perspective with her limited knowledge of magic (despite what she does know from Oz and Jinn) and the workings of the world that Ambrosius created, she doesn’t know what truly happened to her team.

The only thing she knows is that she watched her whole team dissipate into nothing before her very eyes and that is the last memory she has of them that haunts her for some time.

Imagine if…V9 will be about Ruby dealing with such a huge loss which could potentially touch more upon how she internalizes death in general tying back into probably flashbacks of her time with her mother before she learnt of her death at a young age.

While I understand we’ve had a storyline with Ruby being separated from her main team before back during V4-V5, however a plot line like this would be different this rounds since unlike before, Ruby at least knew that her team mates were alive. Far away. Separated by distance. But still alive and still a part of Remnant with the hope that she would be reunited with them again.

However this won’t be the case this second time. It would truly be Ruby alone since her team would be gone and no one could provide her with the solace of seeing them again---not even the friends she does still have (although that doesn’t stop some of them from trying to be there for the little red rose who has now lost more than her heart could handle)

I know the off-chance of this theory actually coming to fruition might be scarce. But like many ideas I’ve shared, it’s still worth tossing out since you guys know how this squiggle meister likes to roll.

~ LittleMissSquiggles (2021)

[mdotmaro]

Winging It

Author's Note: This story is set right after Vacation with Derek. Casey is going off to New York to like her dream as a dancer in a musical. But what if things are not what she expected? What if her dream was wrong? What if the most irritating person in your life is the only one that can talk some sense into you

And so the summer of 05 was coming to an end. The Blue Heron Lodge wasn't going anywhere, and Broadway was calling Casey's name. She sat at the dock, letting her toes dance across the surface, careful to avoid her heels getting wet. There were slight thumps on the floorboards of the dock.

"You know it's not much of a party if you go to brood off all alone. Maybe save the dramatics when you get on stage." Derek commented while he took a seat next to Casey. She chuckled quietly.

"You heard, huh?" She asked with a wistful smile on her face as she stared up at the stars.

"Hard not to when Nora and her hormones keep crying about it every five minutes; Casey laughed at that and wiped a stray tear from the corner of her eye. Derek eyed her and then recoiled at the sight of tears.

"Oh, come on, not you too. Jeez, I can't wait to be in University without all the estrogen seeping through the walls." He said and nudged her lightly.

"I am fine, really just taking it all in. My dream is really coming true, and I just have this light feeling in my chest that makes me want to laugh and cry all at once." She explained; he smirked at her.

"Well, if that feeling spreads to your right arm, let someone know because you might be having a heart attack," Derek said, and Casey shoved him.

"Yeah, I'll miss you too, Der, " She said, and Derek scoffed at the insinuation.

"Whatever, all I am saying is that New York is far enough away that it would be too much of a pain to Dad and Nora to go fly over and save you from whatever crisis you have; so" He cleared his throat and looked up at the sky and pointedly not at Casey. His ears were a tad pink.

"So, call me instead. But you're paying for the plane ticket." He added abruptly, but it was too late. Casey began to pout her lip and stare at Derek with tears in her light blue eyes.

"Aww, Der. You do care. Come here," She said and went to hug the young man that back peddled away from her.

"I take it back, don't call me. Don't touch me. Casey, I mean it," He said in a mock deep tone that made her glossy eyes glitter with amusement. It was a two-second pause between them before Derek sprinted up the dock with Casey close at his heels.

"Oh, come on, Derek, you love me, just admit it," Casey shouted and laughed after him. He blitzed away from her just as she was about to catch him by shirttail. Her fingers barely brushed the fabric. Derek thought he could lose her at the dock because there was no way she would risk falling off, Right? Wrong, one rolled ankle, and down she splashed into the dark water. Derek burst out laughing and continued until he realized Casey didn't resurface.

"Casey?" Derek called out and scanned the surface for any bubbles. A twinge of panic left his voice when he called out again. "Casey!" Still nothing. "Oh for the love of Peter" He grumbled before taking off his fancy shoes and jumping in and searched the water for any sign of her. He saw a dim image of a figure struggling against something. Derek swam over and saw it was her heavy wedge heel stuck between two pieces of driftwood. Casey was trying to yank her foot out; Derek broke the buckle and dragged her up. They both gasped, and then Casey hit Derek in the chest.

"Der-rek, those were my favorite shoes!" She panted and supported herself up by his arms until she could regain her breath. Derek stared open-mouthed at her.

"Fine. I'll just let you drown next time," He said and then smirked, and Casey's eyes widened before Derek dunked her head underwater. She swatted at him until he let her go, and then there was a splashing war. At one point, Casey was able to wrap her legs around Derek's waist and pushed down on his shoulders to dip him under.

"Casey, you are not allowed to drown Derek," Nora said passively as she waddled with her large belly to the bunkhouse with George. Derek picked Casey up and flung her back into the water.

"You heard her." Derek laughed at the haphazard hair plastered to her forehead. Casey dipped her head back to smooth out her hair.

"Let's get out of here; the water is freezing," Casey said and wrapped her arms tightly around herself; the dress she was wearing had stuck to her skin in a less than modest way than Casey was comfortable with. Derek unbuttoned his vest and handed it to her. She smiled and accepted the vest, and quickly buttoned up the middle. Jessie saw Casey from across the lawn and jogged over.

"Hey, Casey, a great night for a swim, eh?" He said while grinning at the waterlogged step-siblings. Derek nudged Casey's arm before heading out to the brunette waiting by the jet ski. Casey watched him go before turning back to Jessie. I guess you could say that. Want to go for a walk?" She asked while looping her arm through Jessie's.

"What happened to your shoes?" Jessie asked, indicating to her bare feet. Casey laughed

"It's a long story."

Six months later

The blaring car horns were surprisingly easy to adapt to. Casey particularly loved the little shops and cafes that seemed to flower at every corner. The organic wheatgrass and lemon zest smoothie was a favorite routine of hers before taking a run in central park. Rehearsal wasn't until 10 am, and Casey had to make sure to keep up her stamina for the demanding routine involved in the Jazztap Tango on Mango Street.

Casey was the roommate and unrequited love interest, Mindy. Jessie was the lead Georgio. He was taking his role as the Mainstreet casanova to heart. Whatever began at the Blue Heron Lodge was soon forgotten after there was so much research to do with so many women.

"I just need to get a better feel of the character. You understand, don't you?" Jessie explained at Casey's studio apartment. She stared at him and tried her best to stay civil. It was an act she had seen many times with Truman and certainly with Jessie. He wasn't exactly nonchalant about his veracious flirting as a waiter, and it only increased in New York when his charming shyness faded away.

"Of course, see you on set. K?" She said before gently closing the door. The apartment was basically a shoebox; she could barely practice her routine, and Casey was starting to get restless. There were a few framed pictures across the headboard of her twin bed. She picked up the last picture the entire family had taken together. Simon was just born, and they were all huddled together at the hospital. She smiled at the image that had been taken four months earlier. Simon must have at least doubled in size by now. Casey sighed at the knot in her chest and stared at the phone on her bed for a long moment before giving in and dialing.

"Yo, You've reached Derek Venturi. Leave a message, and I may or may not get back to you. Later" Casey rolled her eyes at the voicemail, but she still waited for the beep.

"Hey, It's Casey. No, I am not having a crisis. I just wanted to call and see how you were doing and to see if you had flunked any of your classes yet. Call me back when you can," She said, and that was two days ago, and she had not heard back from him since. The musical was supposed to air at the Radio City Music Hall for the first time that night at 8 pm. It was too short notice for any family or friends to be able to see it live, but they promised to come to the next showing in two months in Buffalo.

Casey quickly dressed and went up to the stage. "Alright, Casey, go up to the balcony and start from 'Carry On, '" The director Bernard Blue instructed from the front row. The prop balcony was just reinforced after a near spill last week that had Casey hanging on for dear life by the railing. Margret, the leading lady, had teased that Casey shouldn't have had that extra slice of pizza at rehearsal wrap-up. Derek said that she was being "Black Swanned" when she had called that night to vent her frustrations.

"You've seen The Black Swan?" Casey scoffed.

"Uh Yeah, Natalie Portman 'finding her sexual nature' on screen. How could I not?" He said.

"You're disgusting," She said, but they ended up laughing anyway.

Casey stared into the spotlight and let out a deep breath.

"Carry on, sweet dear. My mother always told me.

Carry on through these tears. Let them water your garden.

Soon the flowers will bloom and shade your views of the unkindness of this world." Casey's voice carried sweetly through the theater as she watered the small prop flowers on the balcony. Below Jessie danced and caressed Margret while Casey was made to gaze forlorn at them from above.

"But sometimes the flowers bloom is not enough.

Never enough." Casey sang with more force, and she flew down the stairs to meet the lovers, but before she descended, they were gone.

"Just living and watching you fade from me.

Even if you're happy, it will never be enough for me-" She ended with the saddest halt of her voice. The lights faded, and then she was shuffled backstage for the next scene. It had become just a monotonous cycle in her life. When did her dream become the very thing she dreaded each and every day. Maybe when it was when her dream became a job, and the freeing feeling she had when she danced was now controlled by someone else. She looked at the glittering face in the mirror. Casey had the opportunity to give into a secret desire to be a blonde for the role, but there was something different in her eyes. They seemed dull.

The play was a moderate success. There were no screaming crowds or cries for an encore like the director had predicted. Casey was honestly just glad it was over. When she went to the dressing room, she found someone in her chair. With a well-timed spin, Derek grinned at her, appearing quite at home.

"The real star is here," He announced, lounging in the makeup chair like a throne. Casey laughed and all but launched at him. She squeezed him in a hug.

"Chillz, Case. Can't breathe." Derek said but still gave her a gentle squeeze back. Some of the other girls began to mill into the dressing room and took in the scene of the two step-siblings.

"Aww, Casey, I didn't know you had enough time for a boyfriend." Eloise sneered. Casey gave the petite redhead a withering look.

"This is my step-brother, Derek. Derek, this is Eloise, Jasmine, Cossette, and Jamie." Casey said, milling off as the women eyed Derek with a predatory look. Casey wrinkled her nose in distaste.

"Oh, and is Derek single?" Eloise asked while batting her massive costume lashes at the man. Derek chuckled and got out of the chair, but before he could say anything.

"Oh, he is, but sorry to tell you, girls, he is gay. Come on, let me show you the city." Casey said before half dragging Derek out of the dressing room. Derek protested the entire time he was very much straight. Once they were on the street, Derek shook her off his arm.

"Jeez, Casey. Possessive much?" Derek complained. Casey shook her head.

"Please, Derek. Those theater girls would have eaten you alive." She teased. "Anyway, what made you come all the way over? How did you like the play? How is the family?" Casey rattled off as they walked down the street, the park was coming up, and they had a night market to celebrate the change into spring.

"Take a breath, Casey." Derek teased and shoved his hands into the pockets of his leather jacket. Casey closed her mouth and made a locking motion while throwing away a figurative key. Derek rolled his eyes.

"You are such a dork," He mumbled, and she put her hands on her hips. "Well, I heard your voicemail, and you are still a terrible liar; you are obviously having a crisis." And he held a hand to stall her protest. "Yes, you are, but I have to go down the list before you go on this verge of denial." He smirked

"The play was sappy but good, I guess. And the Fam is fine, I guess, you can reach out to them too, you know." He said and then lingered over to a hotdog vendor and ordered a dog with all the fixings, even relish. Derek took a huge, messy bite and then offered some to Casey, who gave a quick shake of her head.

"I know, and I try too, but these hours are so long with the play and rehearsals and the gym to stay in shape." She sighed. Derek sized her up.

"What's wrong with the shape you're in now?" Derek said through a mouth full of meat. Casey grimaced and offered him a napkin.

"Chew, swallow, then speak, you, Neanderthal," Casey said and then looked down at her thin, toned arms. "The costume designer has been complaining about having to use extra material for my costume because I am not a size two like the other girls," Casey said and crossed her arms in frustration.

"You'd look weirder than usual if you were super thin like them," Derek said after finishing his hot dog and wiping his mouth. They passed a beadwork station where Derek tossed his trash in the nearby bin, and Casey looked intently at the necklaces.

"I agree, but that's showbusiness. I don't have enough curves to be plus-sized and not thin enough to be seen as a regular dancer. It's exhausting," She admitted while touching a deep jade necklace like one her mother would wear.

"So, quit," Derek said simply. Casey turned away from the necklace and stared at him incredulously.

"I can't just quit on my dream, Derek. I have sacrificed too much for it not to work out." She said hotly. Derek gave her a bland look.

"I saw you up there; there is no passion in you." Derek accused. Casey scoffed.

"Please. What do you know about passion?" Casey asked, and he shrugged.

"I have been playing hockey since I was twelve, and I have never felt like getting up to play was ever work. You have been complaining for weeks about this, and it is just not what you expected. And that scares you." He accused. Casey shoved him.

"I am not scared!" She hissed, but it wasn't convincing. She gave into his penetrating look and slumped her shoulders. "Okay, fine. I thought it would be amazing to dance on a stage in front of hundreds of people every night, but it's not the same when the choreography is the exact same, and I don't have the creative liberties I would If I did my own choreography." She admitted—Derek tutt at her before lazily throwing his arm across her shoulders.

"Well, you can always modify your dream to fit your life." He said and then eyed a street band performing under a massive tree filled with string lights. Casey gave him a confused look, and then her eyes widened at him when he dragged her towards the band, and he twirled her around. "Like dancing in the park without any stuffed shirts of catty girls criticizing you." He said before joining her in a faced paced swing dance. Casey's face lit up with the biggest and most beautiful smile. She laughed and tilted her head back when Derek picked her up and spun her.

A small crowd of dancers joined in, and the band picked up its pace, and Derek let Casey down so she could take the reigns. This was her, Casey free and alive.

The two left the park with a little more pep in their step and laughing. Derek dragged them to the closest bar and ordered them whiskey shots. Derek started to sweet talk to the bartender and didn't even get carded. They were legal in Canada, but at nineteen, were not yet legal in the states. It helped that Derek had a bit of a blonde stubble beard going on. Casey just shook her head in amazement.

"I am the one supposed to be showing you around the city. I am the one who lives here," Casey said before clinking her shot glass with Derek's and downing it in one go. Derek laughed at her grimace as the whiskey burned down her throat.

"It's called confidence Casey, maybe you'll know all about it after a few more of these." He said and waved at the bartender for another round. He handed Casey another cool shot glass, and she met his determined gaze with one of her own. He leaned close to her ear and said over the loud music.

"Oh, and you're paying, by the way." He said, and before she could yell at him, he downed his shot and pulled on her hand to the dance floor. Casey refrained from his pulling to shakily downed her whiskey shot. Derek released her to the thumping music while he made eye contact with a blonde in a tight purple dress. Casey felt her limbs become loose and cool and began to sway to the beat. The writhing bodies pressed against another was not the type of music she was usually used to, but there was something hypnotic about it. A pair of arms snaked around her waist, and Casey flinched to see a handsome stranger with mint green eyes that shone against dark skin. He leaned close to her ear.

"Want to dance?" He asked, and she nodded nervously. He led her in a slow sway, lightly pressing his hips into hers. Casey bit back a gasp and ran her arms up and through her own loose waves. This was heaven. She followed the handsome stranger step for step and rolled her hips in a way that made him hiss. His hands began to drift from her hips to the back pockets of her low-ride jeans. It was only when he squeezed her bottom that she squealed and jumped away. The handsome stranger raised his hands up in surrender. He mouthed "sorry" to her, and she shook her head and smiled at him before moving more towards the center and dancing by herself. At least she was until Derek came over with another two shots, and she gladly accepted, now getting more used to the burn.

"You okay?" Derek shouted over the music. Casey nodded.

"Better than ever." She said and wrapped her arms around his waist and pulled him into a more lively song. Derek put both their glasses on the nearby counter and began to sway along with Casey. This was much closer than they had ever danced before, and Casey was giggling and biting her bottom lip as she spun and gyrated onto Derek. Oh no, Derek thought. He had created a monster. He would have always thought Casey would be a lame weepy drunk, but it turns out she is a flirty drunk. Derek wasn't exactly sober either, and the night was still swinging along. He held for the ride with his hands firmly on Casey's hips. She spun and then wrapped her arms around his neck. She swayed back and forth with her eyes half-closed.

It's hard to say who moved; first, one moment, they were forehead to forehead, and then Casey whispering huskily, "Thank you for saving me, Derek" Derek chuckled and asked, "From what?". Casey's fingers ran through his smooth hair before leaning to his ear and whispering, "From myself" Maybe he was going to give her a reassuring kiss on the cheek. Maybe she only turned to put her head on his shoulder. Whatever their possible intentions, what happened was that their lips met for the briefest moment. They had enough sobriety to freeze and look into each other's eyes. Derek searched her baby blue eyes for any fear or concern but only found her doing the same, and a flicker of want glazed over her eyes. That was all each other needed for permission.

While the first kiss was sweet and innocent, this kiss was desperate and sensual. Derek pressed Casey closer and cupped the back of her head to deepen the kiss, and Casey let her hands trail down his chest to the hem of his shirt. In the course of their kissing, the song had changed to something slower; Casey and Derek took the opportunity to come up for air. Casey nuzzled into Derek's neck, and he held her close.

"What are we doing?" Casey asked and pulled back to look at Derek. She half expected a sarcastic remark like, What does it look like? We were making out, and now we're not. Not that big a deal, Case. But Casey had never seen Derek like this before. His face was open and vulnerable.

"I don't know," He said and shook his head. He smoothed some hair out of her face and smiled down at her. Casey smiled back and leaned up to kiss him lightly. She rubbed her hands over his arms.

"Well, whatever this is, let's wing it," Casey announced confidently. Derek laughed at that and shook her lightly.

"What?" Casey pouted. Derek shook his head and slung an arm over her shoulder, leading her out of the dance floor towards the bar to pay their tab.

"'Let's wing it,'" He imitated her in an absurdly high pitch tone. "You are still such a Keener," He said. She elbowed his side.

"Der-rek," She whined as he pat her head in a condescending way.

"It's okay; you're a cute kenner." He said with a wink. She forked up the cash for their tab and joined him out in the New York nightlife.

They stared out at the buildings from Casey's fire escape. Neither said anything for several minutes until Casey broke the silence.

"I have to drop out of the play," Casey announced, and Derek smoothed her hair in response. "Yeah, you got me thinking."

"Oh no," Derek said and snickered when she lightly slapped his knee. Casey was sitting between his legs and leaning back into his chest.

"I want to go back to school, but not for Law. I want to own my own dance studio." She said, and Derek put his chin on top of her head.

"So, Casey Macdonald found a way to make a career where she is in complete control. Shocker." He whispered the last part into her ear; she smiled and then turned around so she was facing him.

"Plus, going to university will give us time to figure out whatever this is." She said as she placed her hands on his shoulders. He smirked at her.

"Yeah, sure, let's 'wing it,'" He said, and Casey slid her hands up to his neck and kissed him until the sun began to rise, and they both finally succumbed to exhaustion.

[alyblacklist]

Why do you think the writers made blond Katarina read The Little Red Riding Hood to Agnes, of all fairy tales there are?

To mess with the super-fans?  I’m only half okay less than half-kidding.  I place little stock in props or things seen only briefly in an episode that 99% of fans will never remember. I think the writers have fun with those things (for example, the “Heinritz Asylum”) or a “strong scarf” or a whole room dressed in plaid. The writers follow social media enough to know what fans are buzzing about (fake grandmothers, anyone?) and what theories they are propounding. Those are the little nods to the super fans that keep theories buzzing.

In practicality? I think it means little to nothing except as above (to mess with the super fans). In the real Little Red Riding Hood tale, the young girl (clad in her red cloak/hood) heads into the woods to her (known) grandmother’s cottage to deliver a basket of food at her mother’s instruction. The Big Bad Wolf stalks her, convinces her to pick flowers for her grandmother, and while she’s occupied with the bouquet, runs ahead, kills (!) or in tamer versions hides, the grandmother and then puts on the grandmother’s clothes and awaits the child. The grandmother is swapped for the imposter and the child falls for it.

As far as The Blacklist is concerned? Sure, the Rederinas/Fakerinas/Carlarinas will seize upon the  “false grandmother” narrative in it (never mind Agnes never knew another “real” grandmother to begin with). And the rest of us will shrug and think it of no more significance to the story than Liz loving the Wizard of Oz. Go ask a casual viewer what book Katarina read to Agnes last season. I’d bet not one could tell you. Most American viewers don’t watch TV that way. They’ll remember Red’s blown up house from S1 because it was emphasized in the plot, maybe ballerina girl dancing on the stage from 1.16 because again, it was central to the scene, but a book, briefly read aloud?  No way.

Was Laila’s Katarina a fake?  I remain of the view no, and I think if this season continues to the end without them debunking that, it’s an even harder no. I think if that was going to happen it should have happened before last season’s finale (i.e, before or in 8.03).  It’s already LONG past time for them to cast more doubt on that narrative if they were going to and instead, Liz has sought vengeance for her death and continues on that path and everyone continues to refer to Laila’s Katarina as her mother. Red has had the opportunity to correct the narrative multiple times - not only to Liz, but to Cooper and Dembe (in private!) and hasn’t done so.

So for me, right now, the book is another red herring to entice the theorists to go off chasing rabbits. If I’m wrong in the end, I”m happy to admit that.

[welllpthisishappening]

But Once a Year (3/5)

This is a trick.

It has to be. Something Pan planned, or some nonsense only possible in Neverland, because one second Emma’s sitting outside the Echo Caves and wondering how exactly things could possibly get worse, and then the world decides to take her up on the challenge. She’s not where she was. Or when she was, either.

And the future isn’t entirely what Emma expects it to be, but that might not be entirely horrible and Christmas with a husband and a family that quite clearly loves her is only kind of messing with her head. God bless us, every one.

————

Rating: T Word Count: 9K and change, but also stuff happens AN: I cannot tell you guys how much I appreciate you continuing to appreciate this story. It’s exceptionally nice, and I think you’re wonderful. Here’s a whole slew of feelings and tradition and magic. Like, lots of magic. 

Also on Ao3 if that’s how you roll || Or start from the start

————

This is a problem. 

Multiple problems, honestly. Like, at least seven different problems that Emma can think of off the top of her head, and obviously the most pressing is getting back to the right part of her timeline, but only marginally less distressing is the overall domesticity of her life at this point of her timeline. 

It’s more than the pillows. Of which there are just an absolutely ridiculous amount, actually. They hover in couch corners and fall to the floor with alarming regularity because, between the two of them, Hope and Lucy are something akin to forces of nature, hopped up on Christmas-type sugar and the cookies that people apparently just hand out on the street in Storybrooke. Someone’s always got some sort of baked good, freshly out of the oven — and while Emma’s discovered she’s particularly partial to Granny’s snickerdoodles, she can’t imagine any of this is very efficient. 

For Storybrooke’s economy, or whatever. 

There’s no bank. Emma looked. And asked. Several dwarfs, actually. All of whom immediately bowed and narrowed their eyes at her like she’d totally lost her mind, which seems pretty accurate at this point. Five days after waking up on that couch, with all of its pillows and questionable comfort, and only a handful of people actually know what’s going on. 

Not Hope. 

And no one actually told her to do that, but Emma figures it’s kind of like deciding to take her boots off in the house. Polite. Plus, a growing determination not to traumatize a ridiculously cute four-year-old, even when that four-year-old appears to be far more adept at stealing cookies than anything else. 

Crumbs line the counter in the morning, and there’s usually a bit of evidence directly outside Hope’s bedroom door, signs of a late-night theft that shouldn’t make Emma smile. She does anyway. Can’t seem to stop it, which might be problem number four. Three is definitely Killian’s consistent lack of jacket, which admittedly is a very surface problem, but the button-up shirts are all ridiculously patterned, and trying not to ask who initially took him shopping is like, problem, three sub-a. 

So, no one tells Hope that her mom isn’t her mom. Technically speaking, at least. They go through the motions, and Emma smiles when she’s supposed to, and she eats what is undoubtedly the world record for snickerdoodle consumption by a wayward princess, but trying to be herself, while also not being herself continues to be a rather daunting prospect. 

Particularly because whomever Regina believed would know more about Neverland vegetation and its ability to ruin everything is taking their sweet time responding or showing up in Storybrooke, and they’ve tried what feels like several thousand things to get Emma back, but magic beans were a no-go, and some very fancy wand didn’t do anything except infuriate Regina with it uselessness, and it’s still Christmas, so there are apparently a metric shit ton of traditions and expectations, and—

“Wait, what?” Emma asks, perched on the edge of her desk in the station because that’s at least something she’s used to. Less so to Killian’s presence at the only other desk, and she doesn’t remember the only other desk being quite so close to her’s, but it’s entirely possible that’s a trick of her not-quite coherent mind. 

Might be problem six. Maybe seven. Making it six gives it power, and acknowledges how much the state of his tongue continues to affect her cognitive abilities. Of which there were already very few, especially while she was exhausted in Neverland, and Emma’s not willing to risk anymore. 

“It’s something of a requirement,” Killian says, not for the first time. Princesses have a ridiculous number of requirements, Emma’s rather quickly learned. And he can’t seem to sit straight in any chair. Also ridiculous. 

“Does that not hurt your spine?”

Shrugging, he smirks at her and that’s been happening more often. Not that she’s keeping track, or anything. She’s just—aware, that’s totally the right word. Of him, and what he does with his face and his patterned shirts, and there’s been no bare arm again, but Emma’s still not really his wife, and she knows the hours he’s spent holed up in one of the copious rooms in their quasi-mansion have been dedicated to research. 

And getting his wife back. 

That’s fine. It’s fine. Definitely not a problem. Hasn’t even crossed her mind. 

Emma doesn’t want him to want her. Like, ever. 

And they’re waiting for her dad, anyway. To report back on some magical failing in Wonderland. Seriously, everything is so fine that it's almost a problem as well. It’s too fine. Everything is—

Great. 

“Are you concerned about the state of my spine, darling?”

Melting is not an option — so far as Emma is aware of, but it’s certainly very appealing in the moment. When that moment includes tilted lips and an angled neck seemingly designed to ensure Killian’s hair falls artfully across his forehead, as if the strands are there to frame his eyes and the hint of light in them. 

She takes a deep breath. 

The light brightens. Or she imagines. 

“A tree lighting, though,” Emma says, not-so-subtly changing the subject. Killian’s brows jump. Up his forehead and past those strands of hair she’s only passably obsessed with. “Isn’t that kind of...I don’t know, it’s not very fairy tale.” “Regina lights the candles with magic, if that helps.” “So why do I have to be there?” “The monarchy usually stands on a platform, waves lovingly to their subjects and—” “—God, how is there more?” Emma balks, but that only gets her a more powerful smirk and eyes that are far too blue to be fair, and they still haven’t painted the dining room. She’s not going to ask about that. 

She’s not. 

“This is something of the central hub for the rest of the United Realms,” Killian explains, “and with Regina and the Charmings here, it makes sense that people...flock.” “Like birds.” “Not the ones your mother can commune with, but I suppose the metaphor is appropriate.”

“Who decided to hold Regina’s queen election?” Eyeing her speculatively, Emma does her very best not to wither under Killian’s expression. She’s not altogether confident it works, but they’ve almost come to something like an understanding, and it’s very easy. This, them. No, not them. There’s no them and while Emma’s done her fair share of staring, there can’t be a them now because that will undoubtedly fuck with the timeline and probably everything else, just to keep inspiring problematic lists, and her increasing desire to kiss him until he also has to deal with wobbly knees is just something she’s going to have to deal with. 

“Maybe I won’t remember when I get back,” Emma reasons, but that one word comes out as wobbly as her knees have been and Killian purses his lips. “Ok, fine—tell me something totally random, then. A fun-fact, as it were.” “Random.” “Do you not know what that means?” He rolls his eyes. “I know at least three more languages than you do, so—” “—No you do not!”

Nodding, Killian smiles over the edge of his coffee mug, and neither one of them mention that his proclivity to drinking a gallon of coffee every morning could probably be this so-called fun fact. “English, obviously, and—” “—Ok, I can clearly speak English,” Emma argues. She nearly bites her tongue in half at the force of Killian’s answering look, part amusement and even more heat and that only circles her back around to the melting thing. 

“Aye, but I definitely know more curses than you do, so that’s got to count for something. Also that’s simply my base language, as it were.” She sneers. He chuckles. Into the mug, but it feels like the emotion behind it sinks under Emma’s skin and times up with her pulse, less erratic than it had been those first few nights, and she’s actually started sleeping consistently. “Then of course, I’m rather familiar with Latin.” “Dead, it doesn’t count.” “Impressive, though.” “Sounds like you’re fishing for compliments, Captain.” “Unnecessary, when I know you’ll be all wide-eyed and amazed in a moment,” Killian promises, swinging his legs to prop his feet on the edge of her desk. “There’s also Greek, and—” Waving her hands, Emma doesn’t explicitly try to swat at his legs, but he’s just so goddamn close, and still exuding heat, and she’s starting to have some assumptions about that as well. Of the possibly magic and decidedly—no she’s not doing that. They’re not that. Not like this, anyway. And Killian doesn’t immediately move, but that only lulls her into a false sense of security, the metal of his hook is cold enough that she yelps when it circles both her wrists.

“Fairy,” he finishes, and Emma refuses to believe he leans forward on purpose. 

“No.” “You keep objecting to my facts and you’ll give a man a complex, Swan.” “Why would you know Greek, you’re a—” “—Fairy tale character?” 

Emma presses her lips together. So as not to make an undignified noise. She’s already whimpered enough, and cried more than she thought possible and the hitch in his voice threatens to shatter several things. Moving her hands is impossible, which is probably for the best, but all of her would very much like to cup his cheek, if only to see if he’ll kiss the inside of her wrist, and she’s like ninety-two percent positive he would. “Pirate prince,” she corrects lightly, and does get her a smile. “Do you have an official title here?” “Captain.” “That’s it?” “Not impressive enough, huh?”

There’s no music on in the station, but they’re clearly dancing all the same — around each other, and the maelstrom of feelings Emma is doing a God awful job of ignoring, and at some point one of them is going to have to pull away from the other. In more ways than one. 

“I didn’t say that,” she shakes, “and don’t bother telling me it’s another argument, I don’t care. I’m just—curious, I guess.” “About me?”

Nodding is the least dangerous response when she’s so worried about tripping over her own feet in this metaphorical waltz, but it’s one of the more accurate things she’s said since she got here, and now she’s got an excuse. No repercussions, nothing exactly permanent about these conversations, or this information, and no one’s told her whether or not she’ll retain her memories once she gets back, but they also don’t know she’ll get back so—

Fuck it, honestly. 

“Yeah,” Emma replies, not bothering to gloat when Killian’s the one whose eyes go wide first. 

“Oh.” “Is that unexpected?” “Maybe at this point.”

Humming, she files that away, preening slightly under the not-quite-compliment. “Not an answer though. Habit of yours.” “Not really, you’re just very demanding in this incarnation.” “Product of my situation, I guess.” He laughs. It’s something that happens more often here than it did when Emma knew him — knows him, whatever tenses get confusing in time travel. Still, the sound consistently manages to catch her off guard. Free and easy, and the magic that rustles in the back of her brain might deserve its own list. 

Or another conversation with Regina. “The Royal Navy,” Killian says, an answer Emma nearly forgot she wanted. Her eyes widen. He looks triumphant. “See, told you.” “Like an Enchanted Forest GI bill, huh? See new lands, learn new languages.” “Something like that, aye.” “How’d you get to fairy?” “Did you meet the Lady Bell before—” “—I got yanked out of Neverland?” Emma quips, and it might be a defense mechanism. Making jokes, but she also hasn’t gone into detail about the plant-thing yet, and that might be because she doesn’t want to freak him out. 

Anymore than he already is. He spends at least an hour in that room every night. 

“Yeah, I did,” she adds,” after she kidnapped Regina and told us Greg and Tamara were dead, which...y’know—” “—Wasn’t the worst thing in the world?” “Does that make me a horrible person?” Killian shakes his head. “I don’t think so.” “Are you going to tell me you learned fairy language from an actual fairy?” “Not much else to do on a hellish island for several hundred years, and it’s a rather complicated tongue. Takes some practice.” “Oh, you’re doing that on purpose now.” The speed of his grin is like molasses. Emma assumes. She’s not sure she’s ever encountered molasses in real life. Even so, the whole thing is bordering on obscene and the opposite of the Christmas spirit and—“Alright,” she concedes, “learning fairy is actually pretty impressive.” “You flatter me, love.”

“What’s your favorite fairy curse word and do you think anyone would be totally scandalized if I used it during this super fancy, exceptionally royal tree lighting?” 

Absolutely, goddamn obscene. The tip of his tongue finds the corner of his mouth, and his eyes get noticeably darker, Emma’s pulse picking up until she’s sure they can hear it on the other side of town, and there’s already barely any space between them, but that appears to be decreasing with every passing second. She’s got no idea who’s moving. She might be moving. 

God, she hopes she’s moving.

Losing control of her limbs may send her off some ledge. 

And she’s just about to throw caution to the seemingly ever-present wind that comes off the harbor, because the front of this patterned shirt looks particularly yankable, but the station door creaks, and a muscle in Killian’s jaw jumps and David clicks his teeth exactly once when he walks in. 

“Interrupting something, am I?” “No, no,” Emma stammers at the same time Killian mumbles “absolutely not,” and neither of those things sound all that honest. 

She’s never gone into cardiac arrest, but if this is what it feels like, it’s kind of disorienting. 

“You hear about the tree lighting, Emma?” David asks, and that’s obviously where her inability to tactfully alter the course of a conversation comes from. Killian rolls his eyes towards the ceiling, slumping back into his chair. 

Exhaling feels like an admission of guilt, but Emma can’t have anything to feel guilty about here, and she hopes Killian’s getting sleep. On the couch. He keeps sleeping on the couch. 

Of course he does. 

“Do I have to wear a gown or anything?” “It’s outside,” David says, “there are trees involved.”

Killian’s hook pokes at his chair arm. “Only one tree, as far as I knew.” “Why are you like this?” “You’re charmed by it, I know,” he chuckles, eyes flashing towards Emma. Coincidence, she’s sure. Her cheeks are very warm. 

She’s very warm. Passably magical, maybe. 

David sighs. “No, there are no gowns. It is in fact only one tree, and Em—you don’t have to say anything. Regina will thank people for coming, Snow will open up the meal and that’ll be that.” “Should I know what the meal is?” Emma asks, and her gaze doesn’t automatically drift towards Killian either. It just, sort of—meanders there, naturally. His tongue is still doing that thing. 

“I was going to get to that part eventually.” “There’s kind of a reception,” David explains, “with cookies.” “Shit, how many cookies can one United Realm eat?” “An exceptional amount,” Killian mutters, and Emma might guffaw. While realizing why her other version had been baking so much before. 

“You don’t have to do anything,” David adds, “just show up and smile, and you’ll get some cookies out of it.” “Will I not get cookies if I don’t smile?” Not able to stop whatever noise rumbles out of him, the force of Killian’s grin makes Emma glad she’s sitting down again. “I’ll swipe you some if you don’t.” “Very gallant.” “Happens from time to time.” Flirting in front of her father is wrong. That’s if this counts as flirting. As far as Emma knows, most of their banter has been a product of their mutually ridiculous lives, and whatever situation they’ve found themselves in at the moment, but this moment doesn’t hold any danger and it is so goddamn easy. 

She smiles. 

Killian beams. 

David sighs again. “Anyone want to hear about Wonderland now? Or how the White Rabbit can’t draw any portals? Or—” “—This is a really extensive list,” Emma grumbles, and Killian’s smile is going to get stuck on his face. Permanently. She’s very charmed by the crinkles around his eyes. 

“Tinker Bell is here.” Slamming his feet back onto the floor, Killian practically snaps to attention, and Emma’s body goes through another reaction she does not expect. What feels suspiciously like jealousy rattles down her spine, rooting her to the spot and drying out her mouth and David’s far too observant. 

He clicks his teeth again. “When?” Killian asks, already standing and offering Emma his hand. She takes it, not thinking about what that means — or how it affects the half-green tint clouding her vision, and her heart misses a beat. As soon as his fingers lace through hers. 

“Just now. Went to Regina’s, but I had to come here, so one of Snow’s birds told me.” “You can talk to the birds too?” Emma balks, stumbling while Killian all but yanks her towards the door. 

“No, no, they carry messages now.” “Ah of course.” “Did Tink say anything yet?” Killian demands, David already shaking his head and they’re picking up speed. All but jogging down Main Street and towards Regina’s office, and the nickname probably isn’t important. It’s fine. Everything is fine. It’s all going to be good. 

Even when the fairy in question snaps towards the office door as it swings open, practically lighting up when she notices Killian and Regina’s eyes go noticeably thin. Staring at Emma like she’s trying to read her mind. 

Her fingers are still tied up with Killian’s. “Hook,” Tinker Bell exclaims, and she doesn’t have any visible wings so she can’t fly out of her chair. She tries all the same, arms that bump Emma as they hug her not-quite husband and he mutters a greeting. It takes a moment for Tinker Bell’s gaze to find Emma, trying and failing to keep her expression even, and Killian might chuckle. 

She kicks his ankle. 

“Emma,” Tink breathes, “it’s good to see you again, you have to get the hell out of this timeline.”

“So, that’s it,” Tinker Bell finishes, shrugging like Emma’s not dangerously close to fully breaking down and Killian’s thumb keeps tapping the side of her palm. Because he’s still holding her hand. Cool, it’s cool. She’s not totally preoccupied with that. 

Regina’s totally staring, anyway. 

“Will-o-wisps,” Killian says, “I thought that was a rumor.” More shrugging. There’s too much shrugging for Emma. “I’ve never heard of it in practice,” Tinker Bell reasons, “but can you think of another plant in Neverland that could do such a thing? That rumor you’re talking about always mentioned how it would draw a traveler in, bewitch them with lights and—were there lights, Emma?”

She nods. Swallows, or tries at least. But her tongue is expanding again, and her heart might be shrinking, and the whole thing feels like a very cruel trick. 

“Pan would have known about all of that,” Tinker Bell continues, “and used it to his advantage. If he could get Emma to follow the light, then she wouldn’t be a problem anymore.” “But I didn’t actually move anywhere,” Emma argues. “There was no following the light.” Regina exhales. “Probably more metaphorical, giving into what the light offered.” “Which was?” “This, obviously. What we talked about, and what you thought you couldn’t ever have while you were stuck in Neverland, convinced of a whole slew of wholly negative things. So, there was no walking, but—” “—I wouldn’t have just run away!” 

Voice cracking is a sign of impending mental breakdown, Emma’s sure. As are Killian’s tightening fingers, although she’s starting to depend on those fingers just a bit because sitting hadn’t even crossed her mind before and now that might be the only reason she’s still standing.

That keeps happening. 

“Doesn’t sound like you had a choice,” Regina says, “if Pan wanted to tempt you, will-o-wisps seem like the perfect way to do it. See the light, get pulled into this future, he gets Henry, and everything he wants.” “But Henry is here. He’s—he’s a grown man, with a kid and—” “—None of that is set in stone,” Tinker Bell interrupts, magic roaring in Emma’s ears. Killian’s going to cut off the circulation to her hand. “With you out of the way, Pan’s got a straight shot at the heart of the truest believer, he can change what you would have eventually done. Make sure he gets the magic that’ll save Neverland. That’s why everything else is falling apart.” “I’m sorry, what?” “Magic,” David clarifies. “All of it acting strangely? Turns out that is because of you, kid.” Scoffing makes her lean forward awkwardly, but Killian doesn’t mention the strain it’s undoubtedly putting on his arm, and letting go of her hand is disappointing for about two seconds. Before it turns into his arm around waist. 

Regina’s expression turns calculating. 

“Again,” she says, “it’s what we talked about. Things falling apart because you got pulled off the board. Into this exceedingly tempting place.”

Widening her eyes at the unspoken judgement doesn’t do anything to alter Regina’s face, but Emma didn’t really expect it to and her eyes hurt. From not crying. She can’t possibly cry anymore. “I’ve never been to Wonderland, though. How could I fuck up its magic?” “You’ve been other places, love,” Killian murmurs, “and all of that has ripple effects. Savior saves one place, and other realms reap the benefits.” “Is Neverland in the United Realms?” “No.” “Just like that?” “Just like that,” he echoes, smile not quite reaching his eyes. “What do we do now, Your Majesty?”

Taking a deep breath, Regina lets it out almost immediately — staring at limbs and their out-of-place placement for a moment, before glancing at Tinker Bell. Who shrugs, again. Emma’s going to scream. Before she cries. Maybe then all the emotions will balance out. “We figure out a way to get Emma back to the right place, so she can save Henry and defeat Pan, then we hope that things haven’t been altered so much in the past that this version of the future crumbles entirely.” “What was that about no pressure before?” Emma huffs, David laughing under his breath and the feel of something on her hair is absolutely not Killian’s lips. “And honesty, what options do we have left? As far as time travel goes.” “Eh, we're far from exhausted on possibilities,” Regina says. “Just need to get creative.” Tinker Bell’s gasp is very loud. “Have you tried—” “—No,” Killian cuts in, sharper than anything else he’s said. “That’s not going to work.” “But you haven’t tried.” “Because it’s not an option.” “Oh, that’s very negative.” He hums, and Emma waits for the rest of the conversation. Another verbal volley, but it doesn’t come and Tinker Bell looks very disappointed. She’s got another migraine. “How long do you think we have until this future just—disintegrates?” Emma asks. 

She counts to twenty-four before anyone replies. “Maybe a couple days,” Regina replies, “a week at most.” “So—Christmas, then?” “I bet he didn’t plan that on purpose, just one of those crazy happenstances.” “Yuh huh.” “Try and sound more convincing next time, that one sucked a bit.”

Hearing the so-called queen of these supposed United Realms utter the word sucked without a hint of irony is not what Emma expects to be the straw that breaks her back, but it is and her back hurts, and all of her aches, and saving people is her gig. She’s got to figure out a way to do that. No matter what. 

She can’t do that while standing here. With three matching looks of concern, and one of absolute and total fear boring into the side of her head, and Emma’s also very good at running.

That would suggest she’s got control over her limbs, though. Stumbling down the stairs, she makes it about three-quarters of the way down before the whole thing is too challenging and her lungs appear to be disappearing, or possibly melting, and something in her spine cracks when she falls forward. 

Hair brushes Emma’s knees, shoulders shaking with the force of her sobs and the volume of her breathing and the hand that lands on hers doesn’t surprise her as much as it should. “In through your nose, out through your mouth,” Killian instructs, only for Emma to flat out fail at that too. 

Becoming a very frustrating theme. “Why are you so worried about my oxygen intake?” “It concerns me that you’re not, actually.”

Letting out a breath she definitely could have used, Emma’s head lolls. Towards his shoulder and the very solid nature of him, and he doesn’t try to roll her off. Just shifts his arm so it’s back around her waist and that does make it a bit easier to keep her lungs functioning. 

“Was it all of reality collapsing, or Regina using that particular word?”

Emma groans. “Mind reading’s kind of a violation of privacy.” “Invoking my pirate excuse.” “That’s not a thing.” “Eh,” he says, and she hears the smile. That’s...nice. “Having no regard for laws is something of a requirement for piracy.” “This is not working as well as you think it is.” “I respectfully disagree. We’re going to fix this, you know that, right?” “I can’t imagine how.” “Sheer stubbornness hardwired into your personality.” Laughing hurts her very tight and anxiety-riddled chest, but Emma can’t help herself and she’d been right about the smile. Magic flutters under her skin, a steady pulse that’s slightly different than her normal pulse because it’s also more consistent and Killian’s nose is close enough to brush her cheek. If he wanted. 

She wonders if he does. She’d like him to. 

But that’s another problem, and more danger than anything Neverland could offer, and—“Fuck Peter Pan, honestly,” Emma proclaims, Killian’s response warm on her skin because it also includes a sound drifting close to a guffaw and she supposes his mouth is as close as his nose. What with the general structure of faces, and all. 

He kisses her cheek. 

Quick — barely there, really. Over before it has a chance to register, but Emma’s certain she’s been catapulted into the stratosphere, and he blinks almost hyperactively at her. She’s right about the palm thing too. 

He turns into her hand as soon as it finds his cheek. 

“Apologies,” Killian mumbles, retreating back into formalities and behind walls Emma had been clinging to only a few days before. Now they’re just kind of annoying. “Force of habit.”

“Was it the fuck Peter Pan that got you?” “You’ve always been something of a wordsmith.”

“Flattery will get you everywhere,” Emma smiles. “Can I—can I ask you a question?” “No need to preface it, darling.” That’s something like the eighth time that’s happened. In the last two days. Second in the last hour or so. Emma’s not counting that either. “Do you remember this?” “Currently?” “Don’t be an ass,” she snarks, but his hook is around her wrists before she can even try to lift her hands. “The will-o-wisp attack. I—well, it was my turn to watch and I was kind of wallowing because of everything that had happened, and—” Telling him she wanted to kiss him then and now and possibly for the rest of time is also very appealing. And terrifying. Emma bites her tongue. Coward. 

“No,” Killian shakes his head. “I don’t.” “Is that weird?” “Decidedly.” “So, then—wait, I’ve got another question.” He lifts his eyebrows. Smirks. Has the absolute cheek to lift his thumb and brush tears away from her skin, and Emma resolutely refuses to acknowledge the shiver that goes through her at that. “What was with your huh’s, then?” “Last night, you mean.” “I said Echo Caves and you totally froze. Is that—” “Quite a lot of things happen in Neverland,” Killian finishes, “and not all of them have happened for you yet.” “Menacing.” He hums again, takes a deep breath that clearly isn’t a sign he wants to kiss her again. When he does not actually kiss her again. Fine, fine, fine, super. “Not all of it,” he says, although the words sound suspiciously like a promise and neither one of them blink when a bird flies through the open window nearby. 

“Are those birds flying in sync?” “Stop talking, you’re going to get us in trouble.” “What was that about pirate code, or whatever?” Grinning up at him and his scowl, Emma can’t help but be a little proud that she’s managed to distract the great and passably royal Captain Killian Jones during the United Realm’s annual tree lighting. Which in retrospect, does seem kind of strange since Emma can’t imagine they actually have Christmas in the Enchanted Forest. 

That’s a conversation for a different time, though. 

For now she’s willing to keep playing distraction, and it’s very fun to flirt. With Killian, specifically. She’ll consider the repercussions of that later, too. 

“As far as I’m aware,” Killian whispers, trying to keep Hope from jumping into the nearest snowbank, “your mother has instructed them to appear at certain and integral points in the ceremony. For dramatic effect.” “Kind of gaudy, isn’t it?” “A requirement of royalty, so it would seem.”

The muscles in her cheeks are starting to ache. From overuse, and that’s—another problem. Being here a tease. That one strand of hair that always manages to fall towards Killian’s right eye is the worst. 

“How long have you been holding onto that particular opinion?” They haven't turned the tree on yet, so whatever light reflects in his eyes is more theoretical than anything. Regina must have practiced this speech at some point. No way this is all improvised, not with the dramatic pauses and introductions and— “Oh shit,” Emma mutters, the ends of Killian’s ears going red because Regina is introducing them and Hope is nothing more than four uncoordinated limbs and Henry snickers very loudly.

Ella elbows him in the side. 

Emma likes her daughter-in-law. She hasn’t allowed herself to think about that title, or the granddaughter it comes with, but she’s getting very good at putting thoughts in boxes and only partially acknowledging what they mean and Killian's hand finds her again. 

Magic rushes from the top of her head to the very bottom of her feet, standing a bit straighter in another pair of boots, and Killian’s whole body moves towards her. So as to make it easier when he openly gapes at her. 

That must happen a lot too, though. No one bats an eyelash. “If you’re all done,” Regina drawls, but Henry isn’t and Ella can’t contain her laugh either. Mary Margaret looks overjoyed. Even as her birds break formation. 

Emma nods. “All good.” “Gods, the whole lot of you are annoying. You know—” Waving one hand, candles burst into flame without a word, multi-colored lights appearing on every branch, and it takes Emma a moment to realize that everyone in the crowd is holding an ornament. 

“What are they for?” she asks Killian, not bothering to lower her face over the cheers. People are cheering for the tree. “They’re wishes, Mama,” Hope cries. “From everyone!”

He nods when the four-year-old doesn’t explain anymore — already rushing towards Mary Margaret and her ornament. “That’s why people come from all over. Aside from the festive nature, and the talented birds, it’s an old superstition. Place an ornament where the candle was, and you’ll get your wish.” “What happens to the candle?” “Supposed to bring it home, and light that space with the feeling of the solstice.”

In any other situation, exhaling as forcefully as she does would be embarrassing. As it is, Emma figures she’s got a thousand excuses and the hand in hers gives no indication of letting go any time soon. So, seems like a wash. “Gods, that’s nice.” “Aye, it is.”

Hope puts an ornament on the tree. 

So does Henry. 

And Lucy. The list goes on and on, but all Emma can do is stand at the end of Granny’s counters and eat her weight in Snickerdoodles. 

She's the worst, frankly. 

Snow starts to fall just as Emma’s wavering between that happy medium of pleasantly buzzed and legitimately drunk, and she’s got to ask someone who doles out the liquor licenses in this realm because it appears Granny’s hand has grown a bit heavy over the years. 

Lucy scampers towards the far window as soon as she notices the storm, already talking a mile a minute and detailing plans with Hope and Neal — and this happy medium makes it impossible for Emma to be too frustrated by that, but she also hasn’t actually asked what happened to Neal or why he doesn’t appear in Storybrooke, so it seems it’s more difficult to rid herself of the self-imposed asshole moniker than she’d like. 

And the bell over the door rattles like it’s the goddamn town crier, another familiar face stepping through the frame. With red highlights in her hair. “Are we doing this, then?” Ruby asks, flanked by a woman Emma doesn’t recognize and another redhead who is obviously not Ariel and it’s strange to see Mulan out of armor. 

“Cap?” Ruby presses, when no one responds quickly enough, “this is happening, right?” Glancing at a wary Henry and back towards a clearly confused Emma, Killian grits his teeth. While she does her best to come to terms with nicknames, and another tradition and Hope tries very hard to climb up Emma’s side. 

So as to yell in her ear easier. 

“It’s snowing, Mama. We’ve got to play!” Emma blinks. “In the snow.” “It’s a...thing,” Killian explains. “Gets almost—” “—Bloodthirsty,” Mary Margaret says, which is not the most shocking thing that’s happened so far, but Emma’s buzz is starting to ebb slightly and someone’s knocking on the door. Another redhead, with her hair in braids and what looks like suspiciously like a crown on her head and David lets out a joyful noise when he notices the guy behind her. 

Mary Margaret tugs at the edge of Emma’s sleeve. She might be nearly drunk too, actually. If her slight wobble is any indication. “In the past,” she starts, “there’s been some notably magical snowstorms here. It was quite an event when Elsa first arrived, but then well—you helped save her, and her sister.” The redhead waves, as if she knows she’s being talked about and Emma can’t fathom how she makes that connection, but she’s getting better at puzzles. “And now,” Mary Margaret continues, “it’s become something of a ritual.”

Ruby gags. “Oh Gods, don’t say it like that. Sounds ruthless.” “Isn’t it, though?” Henry challenges. “The gist is, that Elsa shows up after the tree lighting with her snow powers and we have a snowball fight.” She’s too drunk for this. Definitely well past buzzed at this point. “A snowball fight,” Emma repeats, half a dozen nodding heads replying with equally large smiles and the almost audible sense of anticipation hovering around them. 

Hope widens her eyes. It’s a very good trick. “She practices that,” Killian mutters, more mind reading that Emma doesn’t bother to point out because the redhead is shouting "come on, let’s go'' and that sounds like a command. And bloodthirsty is a very appropriate adjective. 

Teams are quickly formed, alliances announced and the guy Emma realizes is named Kristoff claims “honor must be defended” enough times that it appears to be a catchphrase. Laughter rings out around them, dancing on the magically-induced snowflakes and off the lights, and there aren’t as many candles on the tree anymore, but some flames continue to flicker, casting shadows across faces and snowballs. 

As they fly past Emma’s ears. 

“Your aim could use some work,” Killian says, breathing heavier as he ducks behind a snow drift they’re using as a blockade. Emma sneers. “Where’d the kid go?” “Ours?” She nods. Tries not to die. Only marginally succeeds. Killian doesn’t appear to notice. Force of habit is a very strong rationalization, it seems. “She’s allied herself with her much more impressive brother, who—” Lifting out of his crouch, Killian cups a hand to his mouth, like that will help the volume of his ensuing insult. “—Has clearly been practicing snowball creation in the Wish Realm and only knows how to win by cheating!” “I learned it from you,” Henry calls back. 

David’s laugh is loud enough to disrupt a whole flock of birds. Perched on the branches above his and Mary Margaret’s head. 

Goosebumps make a glorious return to Emma’s arm — and quite possibly her soul, which only seems like an exaggeration until she notices the spots of color on Killian’s cheeks and the bits of snow clinging to his hair. His eyes get bluer when she brushes the moisture away. Have to, if only to explain Emma’s fluttering magic and fledgling pulse and a snowball slams into her left shoulder blade. “Gotta hide better,” Anna calls, the blonde behind her, who is definitely Elsa, shaking with the force of her laughter. Everyone keeps laughing. Everyone is so happy. It’s—

A goddamn Christmas Utopia. 

“You did offer yourself up a bit,” Killian reasons, Emma gasping at the betrayal. Pulling on the front of her now-damp jacket, he tugs her back against his side and they’re very close. Too close. Possibly not close enough. 

“And what would you suggest o ye master strategist?” “Little wordy, don’t you think?”

“I retract my compliment, then.” “Ahaha,” he chuckles, “a compliment, was it? Well that’s totally different, then. Now, if you just stay here with—” The rest of the sentence gets caught up in his grunt and groan and Emma’s not particularly disappointed to see Hope’s return to this side of the snowball fight, but she’s also fairly certain there was a me looming on the tip of Killian’s very distracting tongue and she’d like to hear that. Selfishly. “Oh, switched allegiances again, have you, little love?” “Henry can’t enchant the snowballs,” Hope says, like that’s supposed to make sense and it almost does because Emma has magic, but she’s never tried to use it on snow. At least not yet.

“I don’t—” she starts, only to cut herself off. At the overall circumference of Hope’s eyes, and the color of Killian’s and there’s something to said for sheer force of will. “Gimme a snowball, baby.”

Excitement immediately colors her daughter’s face, smile wide enough that it’s probably a record and Killian doesn’t say anything. Watches without a single shift of his chest, which means Emma is staring at his chest, but he’s also obviously not breathing, and her lungs can’t stand up to much more of this. 

An admittedly lackluster snowball gets plopped in Emma’s upturned palm, and she blinks away the cold like this is old hat. Or something less lame sounding. Snow packs together like—well, magic, she supposes, a perfect sphere that isn’t quite iced over, but won’t fall apart when one of them throws it and obviously Hope’s got to throw it. 

“Ok,” she says, nodding encouragingly. “Who did you want to take down?” Killian’s lips disappear. Behind his teeth. To stop himself from grinning like a maniac, or so Emma very quickly convinces herself. 

“Uncle Kris,” Hope announces, and this family’s apparently only grown in the last decade or so. Maybe Emma should be more concerned about her heart. And its ability to burst. 

“We can do that. Just—toss it up, and…”

She’s got no idea, really. Just generic hope, and a surplus of feeling, but Emma’s always been told that magic is emotion and she’s not sure she’s ever been more emotional, which is a scathing commentary of her life, but this is also her life and— Killian scoops Hope up, an impressive act of balance and dodging incoming snowballs, and Emma will use that emotion as a reasonable excuse for what she does next. Reaching forward, her fingers curl around the brace at the end of his arm, not able to actually touch skin because he’s wearing a leather jacket, and that’s only sort of messing with her mind. But the motivation is the same, and she’s got all those suspicions and thoughts and—

The most powerful magic in the world. 

“Throw it, love,” Killian directs, Hope’s arm pulling behind her like she’s a professional baseball player, and Emma squeezes her eyes shut. Warmth curls at the base of her spine, inching up her vertebrae until it takes root at the base of her skull, spreading out through her brain and the rest of her limbs and he definitely kisses her hair again. 

She’d been counting on that, just a bit. 

Muscles loosen under her skin, no sense of tension or that ever-present anxiety Emma’s always just assumed was part of her genetic makeup. Shouts echo around her, in addition to the snow, but she can’t quite hear any of it over the explosion of magic between her ears, and Hope’s cry of success will probably be branded on Emma for the rest of her life. 

She hopes so, at least. 

Opening her eyes to find Kristoff sputtering, and Anna as impressed as she is indignant, Emma only barely has a chance to catch her breath before there’s a kid flying into her arms. It’s harder to hold her when she doesn’t let go of Killian. And Killian doesn’t pull away. 

He watches both of them. Traces over Emma’s face, the same way she had in the hallway, and something happens. Something important. Passing between them, and cementing itself in her gut and her soul and his lips twitch. At her magic, probably. “Thank you,” Killian mouths, Emma nodding against Hope’s hair. She kisses it. Out of habit, or whatever.

Strands of hair are damp against Emma's temple by the time they traipse back to the house, Hope asleep on Killian’s shoulder. Enchanted snowflakes linger on the back of her jacket, hovering on her eyelashes for maximum effect and peak cute, which didn’t need any help if Emma’s being honest and she might be willing to err on the side of that particular feeling right now. So as to keep the feeling, all year long and maybe even indefinitely. 

Or whatever they said about Ebenezer Scrooge. 

After he learned to love Christmas. And other humans. 

Emma’s still not thinking too hard about that particular word, though. So, maybe complete honesty’s something of a stretch, but the kid is undeniably adorable and it’s admittedly difficult to think straight when Killian is—

Killian. In italicized and underlined lettering, meeting Emma snark for snark, and snowball for snowball, and she really wants to know his Monopoly cheating strategy, but that’s a problem for an entirely different list because that list has impossible words and improbable feelings and he’s staring at her.

Where she’s leaning against their front door. 

Using possessive and collective pronouns isn’t helping her cause. 

“Are you alright?” he asks softly. For the benefit of the sleeping kid, Emma figures. Not the state of her pulse, or the magic he could feel, and the cyclical nature of time is just toying with her at this point. 

She nods. “Better than, somehow.” “Oh, that’s a little negative, Swan.” “Kind of my schtick, isn’t it.” “Not always,” Killian says, another pair of words that shouldn’t sound like a promise and clearly do not care. Emma feels her smile. Like, possibly in the very core of her being. At least between her ribs, where the growing sense of belonging has decided to linger, this feeling of home and possibility and staying here is not a possibility. Tinker Bell will figure something out. 

Emma will — that’s how Savior’ing works, after all. 

“You know,” Killian adds, Hope humming into his neck and there’s quite a lot of neck. Emma might be staring at his neck. “At some point we concoct this very impressive buttered rum recipe, that’s notoriously good at warding off chills.” Digging her teeth into her lips does not do anything to disperse the butterflies in Emma’s stomach, but she’s also not all that interested in them leaving. “Concerned about my breathing and my overall body temperature?” God, she’s an idiot. 

Flirting isn't quite second nature, though — and Emma’s even less accustomed to flirting as a two-way street, but this feels as easy as it has and will and there’s those tense-based issues all over again. Killian grins. Slow, and measured and inching almost close to lecherous, sparking a handful of other other ideas that—

Immediately disappears when the four-year-old wakes up. 

Brushed teeth take precedence, as do picking out pajamas and Hope is in possession of more pajama sets than Emma knew could exist in one set of drawers. Then there’s a bedding routine, lifting comforters and crawling under sheets and Emma doesn’t know the story requested of her. 

She’s got no idea what happens after Prince Charles spun around with his sword. 

It’s got to be impressive, though. 

“Oh, Hope I—” she exhales, fear creeping back into the forefront of her mind. Until fingers find they’re way back into hers, and they’re just as warm as they always are and it takes Killian less than three minutes to promise a different story on another night. 

No tears are shed, so that’s got to be a victory and Hope’s eyes are already fluttering closed when Killian flicks off the light. Lingering in the hallway, Emma’s not sure what she’s supposed to do or where she’s supposed to go, but there’s a hook pressed into the small of her back and buttered rum turns out to have a ridiculous amount of cinnamon in it. “Shit,” Emma mutters into her glass, and Killian looks far too satisfied. “This is really good.” “Took some trial and error, but we got there eventually. Or get there for you, I suppose.” Sipping instead of responding is another cowardly move, one Emma won’t ever admit to and it doesn’t matter because he can read her mind. At least her face. Open book, and all that. 

“I’m sorry.” Killian blinks. “For what, exactly?” “God, throw a dart. Everything I—showing up in your life and making the right Emma disappear, maybe, and that’s got to be fucking with you, and—” “—You’re not the wrong Emma,” he interrupts, with enough force to pull her up short. Buttered rum drips on her chin. So, she’s a picture of romance and flirting potential. “Just a little early, that’s all.” “Not what you said when I got here.” “Aye, well that was the bastard version of me. He’s a—” “—Bastard?” “Absolutely,” Killian nods, “and maybe a little unsure of himself when it comes to you.”

It’s her turn to blink. More than once, only a little concerned the scene in front of her will change, but it doesn’t and it won’t and there’s got to be a limit on time travel. Emma’s reached her quota by now, she hopes. “Because I’m a mess now? I mean, this version of me. Not the wife one.” “You’re worried about Henry. And I understand that, did then as well. I just—you want to know why the Echo Caves gave me pause? Because if you got tugged right after that, then all you’re sure of is that I think I could move on from Milah, but nothing else has happened for you yet. No promises or—” Swallowing, he sets his glass down and there wasn’t much room between them, but there’s even less now and Emma’s got nowhere to put her hands. Except on his thigh. Where it bumps hers. “Leaving behind that bastard who wouldn’t give you the magic bean was always something of a challenge, but you made me want to. Made it easier to do just that. Because eventually you do trust me, and you believe in me, and—”

He exhales. Licks his lips. Emma can’t move. “The thought of losing that terrified me,” Killian finishes. 

They’ve stopped dancing. Are standing stock-still in the middle of the floor, while other people twirl around and wait for them to get their rhythm back. And Killian doesn’t blink, which is equally frustrating and overwhelming and a much more positive adjective that Emma can’t be bothered with because she’s too busy saying, “I...like you?” “Was that a question?” “Maybe,” she admits, “it’s not really my forte, and I told Neal a bunch of shit in the Echo Caves too, so—is...did my parents name their kid after him?” “Yuh huh.” “Don’t sound particularly pleased.” “We’ll get to that,” Killian says, “Rehash the liking stuff, please.” Maybe laughing at inappropriate times is actually his greatest talent. Emma’s head drops, bumping Killian’s shoulder, but then there’s an arm back around her waist and there’s so much of him, and that’s always been the problem. Opposite of a problem, really. 

“You just—” Emma mutters. “Came back, for us and me and I...that kind of terrifies me too, but you always make sure if I'm ok, and that’s—not a ton of people do that.” “Becomes something of a habit.” “I’m going to ask you a question.” “Still don’t need to preface it.” “Are you Prince Charles in the story?”

Surprise is a good look on him. All of them are, but Emma’s already crossed one emotional threshold and like wasn’t really the word she was thinking about before. “Aye,” Killian says, soft enough that it’s difficult to hear. 

“Does that make me the princess?” “In almost every story I tell.”

The warmth moves to her cheeks, and the same skin Killian’s fingers graze, coming dangerously close to the edge of her mouth and barely parted lips. “So, uh,” Emma stammers, “not our first time travel adventure?” “Gets confusing when you haven’t done that other part yet.” “Time travel might be overrated, honestly. But we get back, right? That’s—I mean, you’re here.”

Nodding, his nose replaces his fingers and it’s oddly endearing. “If you remember this in the past, I refuse to be held accountable, alright?”

“Seems fair,” Emma laughs, and she thinks she hears him swallow before he responds. “You give up your magic, for me—which is something else I never entirely pay you back for, but then we get pulled into the portal, adventures ensue, including that very impressive spin move, and then your magic comes back.” “How?” “With that wand Regina used before, that’s why she thought it would work.” “You’re skipping over things,” she accuses, and flirting might not be the only two-way street. He’s getting easier to read. “Was that was it you? Helping with my magic?” Shrugging isn’t easy when they’re so tangled together, but Killian’s ears are as red as Ariel’s hair and Ruby’s highlights and—“The only reason I magic’ed that snowball was because I was holding onto you. Control’s not something I’ve got much of right now.” “You would have been able to figure it out.” “Not with a kid waiting, and all those people and—” Problems be damned. Lists be damned. Time itself, be goddamned. “Paying me back is a stupid thing to think.”

“Swan.” Shaking her head, Emma moves before she can reconsider how incredibly dumb this is and possibly even more dangerous, but he keeps staring at her and it’s so easy and normal, and if she were someone who breathed with any sort of regularity, that wold be an appropriate analogy. Killian shifts too, so that helps. 

And she definitely mumbles kiss me like some harlequin romance heroine, but he doesn’t laugh and he doesn’t object and the fingers that find her hair help ground her. To this plane of reality. Nice exists for about half a second, before it rather quickly evolves into need and desire and there are hands everywhere. Emma’s and Killian’s — tracing each other like this is the first time all over again, and her back arches once she clamors into his lap. 

Rocking down at the same time he rocks up draws out several sounds Emma’s never heard before, and would not mind hearing on loop. Fingers search out skin, pushing into the tuft of hair at the nape of his neck, and she can’t tilt her head enough. To get the right angle, or more of his tongue and his tongue’s already swiping at her lips. 

He groans again. When she opens her mouth, lets him trace as much as he’d like, and Emma would like even more, but she’s always been kind of greedy when it comes to him and really oxygen is vastly overrated. 

She can’t keep her eyes open. 

Can’t imagine how anything gets better than this, or them and there’s that pronoun again. 

Both of their shoulders heave when they finally have to pull apart, more black than blue in Killian’s eyes and— “We’re really good at that,” she mutters, working a laugh out of him. That he presses against her neck. And under her chin. Drags across her jaw, and up towards her temple, kissing whatever he can reach and everywhere he lands and it takes a power she did not know she possessed for Emma to keep herself from demanding he take his clothes off as well. 

She opts for the next best thing. “Thoughts on sleeping in your own bed?” 

The eyebrows, honestly. Flying up, and reacting quicker than he can respond and Killian kisses her. Soft and easy, and as normal as anything. “Vast,” he says, mostly into her mouth, “and it’s difficult to fall asleep without you, so it’d be nice to actually do that.” “Yeah, ok. That works.”

[eolewyn1010]

3 seasons of Charité - upsides and downsides

Includes spoilers for all three seasons!

What I like about Charité, season 1:

- Ida is a relatable and stubborn woman, and while I think the protagonists of the newer two seasons are written better and more interestingly, she makes for a good central character

- Behring is great to watch, complex, enthusiastic, arrogant, passionate, desperately forlorn, sweetly encouraging, irascible, honest, and I’m always torn between loving and hating him with all my heart

- he also stands in for how badly society was suited to handle people with psychological issues back in the day

-  actually, none of the characters are simple or one-sided; expectations are often subverted – Behring is not heartless, but he can’t just be “saved” either, neither Koch nor Virchow are as benign as they seem at first, Tischendorf is not the sweet young Prince Charming who’ll give Ida the dream life she deserves, Hedwig is not a brainless little floozie with no deeper thoughts or feelings, neither Therese nor Martha are all the strict boss ladies they want to be, Edith is not just a snotty bitch etc.

- medical history of that time, a blunt look on methods and circumstances

- the rivalry between the doctors; it’s fun to watch them passive-aggressively piss on each other

- the staging of the Tuberculin scandal was really effective, with all the hyping, the downfall and the consequences

- we get sweethearts! Stine is a sweetheart, Else is a sweetheart, Therese is a sweetheart, Dr. Kitasato is a sweetheart, and most of all Dr. Ehrlich. I like kind people, ok? Especially in a setting where so many people are asses

- the music is atmospheric and quite nice

- despite two options of marriage, the female protagonist remains single and gets to focus on her career, even in a time and setting that’s not supportive

- I’m having a blast with Minckwitz – he’s such a bitch, I love it

What I hate:

- the lesbian dies for no good reason

- did our main character really have to be a tragic, left-all-alone orphan in debts? Would you like some cheese with that whine?

- the big, hammy speeches get on my nerves after a while

- my sweet lesbian Therese dies, awfully, of frickin’ tuberculosis

- say what you will, Ida and Behring could have made it work; I think they would have been good for each other. Kinda disappointed

- Else Spinola deserved better

- poor Therese dies, thinking that God punishes her for being in love with Ida

- those weird slo-mo shots between scenes don’t serve any purpose

- what’s with the random fortuneteller scene? What was that good for?

- THERESE DIES! We go with f***king Bury Your Gays??? F*** YOU!

_________________________________

What I like about Charité, season 2:

- Anni and Dr. Sauerbruch – different than with Ida, we get two focal characters who aren’t presented as doubtlessly morally good. On the contrary, Anni starts out as quite the happy-go-lucky little Nazi follower – and then we get all the character development; hell yeah!

- Anni chooses to keep and raise her disabled baby herself, come hell or high water; damn, she fights for that kid. And Martin is positive disabled representation, too – thanks for giving me a handicapped veteran who’s not a bitter, drunk wreck just whining about what a cripple he is! He’s got a grip on his life, and the leg only ever comes up on three occasions; it doesn’t define him

- Otto, Martin, Doc Jung, Margot, Maria Fritsch and Kolbe are more clearly positive characters, but they aren’t one-sided, either – like, Otto plays that bright sunshine, but there’s so much seething in him. My sweet baby boy

- same for the negative characters, because they aren’t flat either; Artur, de Crinis and Christel are super interesting, all different levels between quiet, only semi-aware compliance and full-on, not-so-blind fanaticism. Gawd, those shitheads, but they’re fascinating to watch

- all them relationships – Margot-Ferdinand, Otto-Martin, Otto-Anni, Artur-Anni, Margot-Doc Jung, Ferdinand-Doc Jung, Anni-de Crinis, Bessau-Artur, Martin-Christel, Otto-Christel, Anni-Martin… there are so many interplays, so many dynamics that influence each other! SO many layers!

- the acting is better, I think; the characters altogether feel less wooden, much more human than the first time around – perhaps because it’s not 19th century manners anymore now, I dunno; I’m getting really emotional over shit, and I love it

- incorporation of the political and social situation into the hospital setting – much more than in the first season, the state ideology influences the way the doctors can do their work, and many of them do their best to still hold onto their duty when everything around them falls apart, which is beautiful

- power struggles between the characters in charge and ideological / political nuances are more subtle; nothing is black and white

- but there’s nothing subtle about the presentation of Nazi crimes and how many people actually just went along willingly – that cold bluntness is just what that subject needs

- interactions with patients are better this time; they’re more now than passive, pitiable creatures who quietly die their way, they’re characters with their own minds and drives (Lohmann, Magda Goebbels, Hans von Dohnanyi, even Emil)

- the music is even better than the first time around, I love it – so gentle most of the time, but it can also really help to build the tension

- we get a very sweet, functioning queer romance between characters who consist of more than “well, they’re gay and it troubles them”, and they both live – THANK YOU for learning your lesson; there was no good reason to have the gay character die, so Otto and Martin get a happy end. Was that so difficult?

What I hate:

- Yrsa von Leistner is so effing random. Who the hell wrote this? If you can’t incorporate a character properly, why bother including them in the first place?

- the passivity and anonymity of the disabled children – why didn’t Artur or Anni ever get to perceive one of them as a person? That girl Traudel for example, Anni could have talked to her

- there’s a slight tendency to “I’ll just tell the character next to me” exposition – Artur when he and Anni wake up together that one morning (why wouldn’t Anni know yet what he’s working on? That long-winded explaining sentence just came off as awkward), Peter Sauerbruch to Margot about the Dohnanyis and Bonhoeffers

_________________________________

What I like about Charité, season 3:

- I’m all pro ProPro! Honestly, that man is a treat, both how the character is written and how the actor carries the situations and interactions he’s in. He’s arrogant and narcissistic, but he’s also principled, insightful and caring, unpolitical in a smart way and honest in a quiet way, and he gets how people are, and his mentorship of Ella, how he supports and encourages her and also bluntly gives her the dressing-down she needs, is a thing of beauty. And that she has to earn his attention first

- I have a personal soft spot for the scene where ProPro is doing his sports and going jogging while talking with Ella, and then just has her run along. That man’s hilarious, I love him

- Ella’s spirited, and while I don’t love the protagonists of this season as much as those of the second, she’s still great in her own right – the dedication to her research, the strength with which she handles the shit that’s thrown at her

- everyone’s so snarky!

- the wider focus on medical history and research; we see a lot past surgery now

- everyone’s taking shit in stride – staff is running off to the West? Ok; rest gets double shifts. We don’t have a senior doctor on the ward this morning anymore? We do shit ourselves. An illness we’re not prepared to treat anymore because, actually, there should be vaccination enough? We’ll make do. I love that spirit

- positive disabled representation! Rapoport’s daughter actually interacts with people, is presented as a person, has dreams and strengths and can handle her issues – yes, please!

- we get an intersex character, not for long and the story isn’t treated with the care and attention it should have, but props for the effort, I guess

- the setting allows for Ella to focus fully on her work and passion, not really giving much on romance and marriage without that seeming out of place – Ida’s conversations most often revolved around a man, Anni was considered a Nazi role model for being married and a mother, but Ella, while the relationship with Kurt is an option, never prioritizes this and never needs it

- personally, I’m smelling threesome subtext between Ella, Kurt and Alex Nowack – that may just be me, but I like it

- how everyone handles situations, how the changes happening in the country are incorporated into the world the characters live in, how they are able to cope with stuff and make decisions, in the end even without shifting blame

- even more so than in season 2, I really like how human the patients and their relatives are, that interacting with them in the right way is made an important part of the doctors’ work, even when some of the patients are asses

What I hate:

- people are mumbling – it’s not dialects, it’s not accents; they’re mumbling. They never were in the first two seasons

- the cancer stories were really no favorite of mine; what’s with the teary melodrama and the sudden gory shock value? Come on, Charité, you can do better. Presenting the human side of everything has always been the strength of this series, so why going so overboard now?

- I dunno, the crime cases ProPro investigates don’t seem to be incorporated that well? I suppose they’re there to establish his main field of pathology, but they spend a lot of time on that “Biter” case, and I’m not sure why

- would have been nice if Inge Rapoport had gotten to interact a bit with important characters other than her husband, Arianna and Kraatz – she’s a lovable, strong female character; why keep her so one-sided?

- what’s with the black’n’white painting? You showed us how conflicted and nuanced people under the Nazi regime could be; why now the clear line between “those people are good” and “that one sold his soul to the Party”?

- you show us an intersex person, introduce her as a character, make us sympathize, show us her hindrances and possibilities – and then she’s just gone? What about her treatment? Positive development? Making Kraatz’ interactions with her a counterpoint to his interactions with Doc Rapoport? What WAS that?

[nobodyfamousposts]

You know I was watching a video by overly sarcastic productions and I’m pretty sure that from that definition Adrien is a Mary Sue. The episode was Trope Talks: Mary Sues.

Pretty much Adrien is this to a T.

I hear people throwing the term around a lot and complaining about the term being thrown around a lot but I think what ends up being missed is what actually constitutes a Mary Sue in the first place.

A Mary Sue is not a character who is overpowered or “too strong” like the complaints about Captain Marvel. If that was true, then literally every anime protagonist or super hero that exists is a Mary Sue by default. Every one. Ever.

Nor is it someone with a tragic backstory like Batman or any other long line of superheroes or anime protagonists. Whether it’s dead parents, a past trauma, abuse, bullying, or just a conga line of horrible circumstances, plenty of characters have had bad things happen to them. That’s kind of part of life and what makes them relatable and sympathetic.

It’s not even someone who is loved by many people. Or is a good judge of character. Or whom manages to talk someone into a heel-face turn. Regardless of what claims may come, these are not what make a character a Mary Sue.

What makes a Mary Sue—the central core aspect of what makes a character problematic all boils down to how the narrative itself treats the character.

The narrative is generally indicative of the author’s own preferences or leanings. We see it all the time with stories that create straw characters to symbolize people the author doesn’t like or things the author doesn’t agree with in order to belittle it. The opposite can just as easily occur where a character or position is hyped up to look better or promote what the author wants promoted.

Those previously mentioned tropes are a sign of that. For a Mary Sue, everything from powers to past traumas to relationships are all just “things“ for the character to have. Whether to emphasize their importance or to highlight their greatness. While they’re not necessarily what automatically makes a character a Mary Sue, they are often utilized as tools by the narrative for the sake of propping the character that is a Sue. That’s why they’re easy to pick out and attribute to a Mary Sue as well as used to claim characters are Sues. Because they are tools used to try to make people support a character instead of actually making a character people can like and WANT to support.

A Mary Sue is given powers for the sake of making the character awesome without the character actually doing anything to be awesome. A Mary Sue is is given a tragic backstory for the sake of making the character sympathetic without the character actually doing anything to warrant sympathy. A Mary Sue is given relationships for the sake of being the center of attention and adoration by other characters to shell how awesome they are without having to do anything to show how or why anyone would or should actually like them. Any relationships a Mary Sue has are NOT legitimate connections between two or more people, they’re just labels to slap on the Mary Sue to make the character seem more relevant and important.

Ultimately, a Mary Sue supplants the story for the sake of having this character BE the story, and it’s a major reason why they are despised in most fandoms. A reason that, sad to say, was actually deserved in the early days of fan works.

That said…

Adrien IS a prime example of a Mary Sue because of the way the narrative is going out of its way to portray him. Even the creator has come out and said he is “perfect” and that any flaw he could have isn’t actually on him so much as an indication of something being wrong with the world around him. Anything bad that happens, even as a direct result of that character’s own actions, is portrayed as being the fault of anyone and everyone else but that character, in this case Adrien. That, RIGHT THERE is pretty much the epitome of what a Mary Sue IS.

Some call it an ego trip. Some call it a power fantasy. Many consider it as a sort of reality warper. It’s ultimately the case when the story is being turned in on itself to make this character look good without the character actually DOING anything to BE good and even when the character is specifically doing things that AREN’T good.

This is why Bella Swan from Twilight is a certifiable Mary Sue.

This is why it can be argued that Rey from Star Wars is a Mary Sue.

This is why Anita Blake is definitely a Mary Sue.

And this is what separates Adrien from Marinette. And Adrien from pretty much everyone else in the series.

It’s not that he has superpowers—if anything, I think he got cheated in the powers department, all things considered. No, it’s the way he doesn’t seem to take those powers or the responsibilities that come with them seriously. Given that he has had THREE instances already in which he threw a major fit in the middle of an akuma battle because he wasn’t happy about something only for him to be shown as being RIGHT to do so even to the detriment of his partner, his Miraculous, and ultimately all of Paris.

It’s not that he has a missing mom and a neglectful dad, it’s how the narrative keeps emphasizing how sad Adrien is without actually DOING anything with it so they can milk the “Sadrien” angle. Because let’s face it, seeing Adrien looking sad sells.

It’s not that he has multiple girls who like him. I mean, he’s a model, and is rich and famous. I’d be surprised if he didn’t have multiple girls who were into him.

No, it’s in the over the top emphasis of his supposed greatness. It’s in this consistent impression the narrative is giving that the female lead we are supposed to be rooting for—whom we all KNOW has gone well out of her way to do things for him, try to make him happy even to her own detriment, and has struggled more than any rational person should be willing to just to try confessing to the guy is somehow the one side of the love square that “isn’t trying hard enough”.

It’s in the way he is always portrayed as being the “moral voice” and the one in the right in any situation regardless of how little he’s involved or even understands what’s going on. Whether it was lecturing people on how to deal with a bully or for being happy when their bully was leaving (when he was never actually a target of that bully). Or lecturing people on how to deal with a liar (when again, he wasn’t the one being played or threatened). Or threatening to quit when Paris was flooded by an akuma all because he wasn’t being told secrets that he wasn’t showing he was ready to know and that his tantrum CERTAINLY didn’t show he was ready or mature enough for.

It’s in the back and forth on whether he is supposed to be the epitome of “perfection” and the wise person everyone should listen to only to suddenly be made out as the innocent victim of everyone else when his less than noble or heroic behaviors are pointed out in order to excuse or justify his behaviors. (I call it the Standard Adrien Defense and it follows this trend each time.)

It’s in the clear and blatant double standard between what Adrien/Chat is allowed to do and get away with vs what is allowed from anyone else. It’s in the way that Adrien can do things that anyone can agree is wrong without getting so much as a lecture but anyone else in his place will—and have been raked over the coals by the same narrative that gives him the equivalent of a pat on the head and a cookie.

It’s in the way he’s just…there. He has the plot connections. He has the relevance. He has the position of being at the center of quite literally everything from the villain’s plans and motivations to the adoration of the female lead…and he does NOTHING with any of it.

And it’s in the way that no matter what he does or what side he takes, the narrative always ALWAYS frames him as being the one in the right when there’s a conflict, the one to sympathize with when he and another character are hurt, and the one we as the audience are supposed to agree with and support more in any situation.

And the truly sad thing is that Adrien as a character has potential. From a humorous character to a serious one, from the wise and introspective person to the wide-eyed innocent being thrown into the hero job, there was SO MUCH that could have been done with his character. Instead, Adrien is reactionary. Anything involving him is less a matter of what he personally is doing and more about what is being done to or for him. He has no dreams or aspirations other than being with the main female character, has no interests to speak of, and his other relationships actually seem pretty lacking—again, based less on what HE’S doing and more on what other people are doing to and/or for HIM. He somehow has a wide-ranging impact without actually taking action.

As it stands, Canon Adrien is about as real as the cardboard cutout or wax statue of him. To the point he might as well be either for all that he actually seems to accomplish. Because nothing annoys fans or creates salt quite like wasted potential, and that’s all canon Adrien is at this point.

That’s why Fandom Adrien is awesome, whether he’s portrayed as being dense as a brick, showing a polite exterior while internally screaming, acting like a massive dork, or just acting passive aggressive in how he deals with his father and people like Chloe or Lila. Because however way he’s being made to deal with the crazy situations the fans put him in, he’s at least doing SOMETHING besides standing there and looking pretty for people to fawn/fight over.

Strangely enough, this may be the first case I’ve seen where fans have taken a Mary Sue and made him a real character rather than the other way around.

[non-sequitura]

Non-sequitura Disney in-depth analysis (after making a tier list)

Warning: SUPER longform. If you don’t know a movie well, you should skip the summary. I tried to be light on spoilers, but they’re there.

I went chronologically from favorite to least favorite. So S tier is, in order from fave to least fave, The Incredibles, WALL-E, then Zootopia.

S tier (Something I consider high quality AND a movie I greatly enjoy. I would love more Disney movies be like this.)

The Incredibles - one of my favorite movies of all time, possibly THE favorite. Rockin social commentary, epic action scenes, memorable characters, not a minute of screentime wasted, great take on the Fantastic Four, hilarious parts for both adults and children, an interesting villain, etc. 

WALL-E - I love how social commentary was done here. Also skies above, what a beautiful love story. Really blazed a trail in non-verbal storytelling (especially given it was an animated kids film!) Robot animations are particularly delightful. 

Zootopia - another social message delivered excellently and entertainingly. I love Judy and her persistence, I love the expressiveness of the faces and the epic city setting. I love Judy and Nick's banter. This movie deserves to be remembered longer than it has been so far. Admittedly, not one of my fave villains, which makes it my least favorite of the Ss. 

A tier (either super high quality or something I greatly enjoy and deem of at least reasonably good quality)

Mulan - this movie did everything right. Truly feminist protagonist, an icon for strong Asian women, fairly culturally accurate (tho Mushu confuses me), GORGEOUS and iconic music. Lets a relatively natural romance develop. I frickin love the action scenes, I love the emporer. Sadly, this movie just didn't lodge its way in my heart as well as Pixar did. Pixar just has some magic, yo. 

Cinderella - my gosh what an underrated protagonist. Her family straight-up abuses her and she never loses sight of her goals for a better life. Iconic visuals helped bring Disney out of bankruptcy. A gorgeous alto singing voice. 

Wreck-it Ralph - alright alright ppl don’t crucify me for this. I honestly can’t think of much wrong with this movie. Vanellope and Ralph’s vitriolic best buds relationship is adorable, her forgiveness of him is heartwarming and (relatively) deserved, rockin’ Owl City song, epic visuals that mix together bc of all the different games. ALSO ONE OF THE BEST DISNEY VILLAINS NO CAP. One of the only twist villains I like. And we stan the romantic pairing. 

Tangled - I’ve talked about this a lot, but Rapunzel deserved the whole world after what she’s gone through. That being said, Gothel is not some shallow monster she needs to escape from, but an intelligent, well-defined monster with backstory. I could totally see this story happening if the world of Tangled existed. Epic love story, hilarious dialogue. Music is… good but much of it is less memorable to me. Visuals are good but not quite at the level/creativity of many other disney films. 

The Lion King - they really put Hamlet in Africa and pulled it off lol. But in all seriousness, no one took the premise of this film seriously at the time and it became sooo iconic. I love Scar and his eventual downfall, I love how Simba grows emotionally, I love the sad moments that don’t overpower the overall feeling of light goofiness. And music so memorable it was one of the first Disney musicals. 

Coco - not a super unique story premise. But an incredible culture to explore with such creativity and sensitivity. I love the themes of death not being the worst and music being so central to the story. Twist/twist villain was memorable and not expected. And yeah, it did make me cry, so props there. 

Ratatouille - the most recently watched of these films for me. This movie is soooo unique! Back when Pixar was truly super out there with their concepts. Super Parisian visuals and soundtrack. It somehow starts goofy (THE OLD LADY TRIES TO KILL REMY WITH A SHOTGUN WHILE WEARING A GAS MASK) but really drives home the message that you can truly do what you want regardless of who you are. Colette can get it. And the monologue by Ego at the end is one of my favorites in film. 

Frozen - Anna is one of my favorite Disney protagonists. She’s so resilient and loyal. Elsa ain’t bad either but she experiences… less character development. The film is a tad too pleased with its own self-awareness for my taste, but there’s no denying how iconic the music and visuals were. 

Inside Out - Alright, this movie hits home for me bc I tried to run away after moving. A super thoughtful, heartfelt depiction of (potentially depression? imo) with great moments of humor. Riley’s inner world is so creative and lovely. Also realistic depictions of Minnesota/California culture. 

Tarzan - Jane! is! smart! and! adorable! Her scientific curiosity makes her very endearing. it’s so cute to see her and Tarzan learn from each other. Also Tarzan’s “found mother” is epic. Solid score. Solid film all around. To quote Lily Orchard, “This film is what Pocahontas tried to be.” 

B tier (one of my favorites but has a few significant flaws that bring it down (or not quite as memorable to me, but consider good quality))

Peter Pan - Haven’t seen it in a hot sec, but I remember being super charmed by this as a kid. Just going out, having incredible adventures, and returning to a warm home at the end of the day. Tinker Bell is hilarious and beautifully drawn. Gets major negative points for the depiction of Native Americans tho. 

Big Hero 6 - I was super charmed by the protagonist, his family/friends, and the setting. The plot/villain’s motivations are a bit of a mess, though. 

Princess and the Frog - This movie has so much flavor to it! The visuals/music are lovely and unique. Tiana is incredible but it’s kinda annoying how EVERYONE keeps trying to shoehorn her into romance. The thing is, her goals are entirely reasonable. Focus on her restaurant, then look to settle down. But they’re like “nooo you’re ignoring the important things in life” smh. Also, epic villain, woohoo! The movie dragged significantly for me when they were in the bayou. Charlotte is delightful. 

Winnie the Pooh - don’t remember it super well, but I think it was charming and occasionally dark, which is an addictive concoction. 

The Little Mermaid - MAN ppl roast Ariel way more than she deserves. Visually, it was… fine. idk. This movie is good. I don’t have much else to say about it. 

Snow White - the one that started it all. Visually, super impressive. Musically, lovely. I find the romance a bit… off. Well, more than a bit. What is it with Disney and kissing sleeping people? 

Alice in Wonderland - a nerdy acid trip. Right up my alley! I also like films where ppl go on incredible adventures and return to the status quo, but THEY changed bc of it. Epic. SUUUUPER creative visual interpretation of Carroll’s book. Brave - gosh I loooove films where a parent and child learn to understand each other. Never got why ppl hated this movie so much. The Scottish flavor is present and fun. Merida made one mistake and made it up. The arrow scene is iconic. 

Cars - a fun ride! (hahaha puns.) We love seeing Paul Newman as a car. 

B-minus tier? (same as B, but problematic, or weaker story-wise.)

Hunchback - man… settings-wise, this film might be my favorite. I also love Esmeralda and Quasimodo as characters and as a duo (though the sexualized depiction of Romani ppl is not epic.) I also don’t find the discrimination against Esmeralda/Quasimodo jarring bc it matches the time period. Frollo is super interesting as a villain. The gargoyles are… def not necessary. Basically, this film doesn’t know what it’s doing with tone. 

Sleeping Beauty - Aurora was my favorite when I was younger because I thought she was the prettiest, and that still defines how i feel about this, basically. Visually lovely - everything is kind of elongated and gothic. Maleficent is spiteful and epic. I have no issue with the fluffier parts of the movie, like the music or the fairies. RIP for lack of consent being a plot point, though. 

Hercules - Megara is incredible. one of the only Disney “princesses” who acts like an adult and has cynicism as a major part of her personality. I love her and Herc’s progression where she learns to trust him (yes, he is genuinely that sincere, it’s not a front.) Muses are unique, whoever came up with them was high on something and I’m living for it. I just think the plot itself was somewhat unrealistic/ weirdly-paced. There are some memorable songs, some less-than-memorable songs. Art style is cool but I’m personally not a fan. EXTREMELY inaccurate depictions of the original Greek gods. 

C tier (entertaining, but I don't consider it a great movie)

Bolt - I watched this like 11 years ago. It was fun! A cool concept about those put on a pedestal learning their worth even without celebrity boosting them up. Animation was… fine I think. not super memorable to me. 

Frozen 2 - They really took any scrap of character development Elsa had in the first movie, threw it in the garbage and set it on fire. Anna deserved so much better. Songs are bombastic and impressive, have the occasional interesting lyric, but are really weirdly placed and none are quite as iconic as the first movie’s (except Aurora, she does great work here. Also the song Anna sings after she thinks Elsa died.) 

Not a big fan of the vaguely homeopathic theme. Not a big fan of Olaf’s WEIRD character development. Not a big fan of the suuuuuper awkward dialogue and the animations that imply not only that Kristoff is into his reindeer but that Elsa and Anna are into each other (if you’re questioning if they did that, yes, they did, I can find screenshots of some really weird expressions/moments. THIS IS NOT THE TIME TO PANDER TO YOUR WEIRD FANS, DISNEY.) 

The voice actors did great work, the animators did great work (look at the details on their clothes! Look at how Elsa’s posture changes to be more confident! look at how they're animated while they're singing!) Some weird costume/makeup choices that make Elsa look like an aging starlet, but she also has some gorgeous moments so eh. It’s a wash for me. 

They really did not know what to do with Kristoff this movie, huh. The only thing that happened to him was singing a cheesy 90s ballad and marrying Anna, both of which were admittedly epic. Also, the trolls got 0 appearances despite being literally psychic. Probably could have helped with a lot. I'm not a huge fan of lore/worldbuilding, and thee was a lot of it here. Overall neutral on it. 

Also a big theme in this movie I don’t love - **** TANGIBLE CONSEQUENCES TO OUR ACTIONS!!! The danger is Elsa’s death, the elements, colonialism, and Arendelle literally being destroyed. None of those end up playing out, so I was left at the end going “this film had literally no stakes.” 

Monsters U - same as above - entertaining at the time! Not super memorable. The ppl we were supposed to dislike kept switching. Doesn’t really match the canon of Monsters Inc (I thought they were supposed to have known each other since childhood so why did they meet in college?) 

Cars 3 - so apparently, everyone HATED this movie! Fun! I never watched Cars 2 (yes watched Cars 1 if you haven’t been paying attention to this list), but I didn’t think this movie was bad at all. Well-acted, some fun chase scenes, the scene where Lightning fails at driving in the simulation is genuinely hilarious, and some interesting perspectives on teachers getting the spotlight for their skills for once. 

Incredibles 2 - I liked this film at first, but then it was… just okay in retrospect. I love me some good family dynamics. The plot here makes not a lot of sense. THEY BUILT UP THE UNDERMINER FOR NOTHING AND THEN FORGOT ABOUT HIM. I was surprised by the villain swap, but it happened so last minute I never really understood their motivations even after they explained them. Tried to tackle waaaay too many messages. 

D tier (I didn't enjoy these or consider them mediocre)

Finding Dory - Maybe I should have put this higher? Like C tier at least. Ah well. Wasn’t a huge fan of the body/physical comedy (not my thing), but it was entertaining and awww finding family is heartwarming. 

Finding Nemo - I remember nothing about this movie. 

E tier (this film has significant problems)

Beauty and the Beast - *sigh*… I want to love this movie. The score is gorgeous. Visually, they could have made it more distinctly Rococo-era France but didn’t (why?) The voice actors did good work and I think Paige O’Hara is SUPER underrated here. 

The Beast is emotionally manipulative with an awful temper that (for MOST of the movie. He doesn’t change.) That’s the main reason this is in E tier. This movie shaped so many generations of people thinking they can change the behavior of someone who treats them badly through the power of love. But you can’t. She learns to “love” the beast under coercion. It’s not Stockholm syndrome - it’s a trashy romance novel. Big fan of Gaston as a villain. He’s an archetype ppl can recognize and it’s so satisfying to hate him.

F tier (I think this film actively harms the industry and would rather it not have been made. Both the one in E tier could be considered harmful to the industry, but I think they had significant enough artistic accomplishments to scrape above that. I'm also generally a fan of "lack of censorship bc it's better to teach what not to do.")

Pocahontas - this movie took real historical events and romanticized them AND sexualized one of the only Native princesses they’ve had. Boo. Nothing wrong with animation!Pocahontas as a character, it’s just people put her in a story that doesn’t represent history well at all (and these historical events, unlike those in say, 14th-century Germany, had super relevant effects on people alive today.) And they portrayed the Native Americans and colonial settlers as equally in the wrong. (though I like Governor Radcliffe as a potential villain and love the line “see how I glitter.” I can’t NOT laugh when I hear it.) Lovely music, though. Nice animation, but the colors are weirdly… muted? 

Bad Garbage (I don't wish this film had never been made, but I wish I never had to see it.)

Planes - this movie was ridiculous. I remember not much about it except that I kinda hated it and that it was super cheesy with tension one could see right through that immediately resolved itself via one twist or another. 

Haven’t seen tier: Recess, A Bug’s Life, A Goofy Movie, DuckTakes Movie, Lilo and Stitch, Pinocchio (actually i have seen this but I remember nothing about it), The Nightmare before Christmas, Toy Stories 1, 2, and 3, Up, 101 Dalmatians, The Great Mouse Detective, Cars 2, Moana, The Good Dinosaur, Pete’s Dragon, Fantasia, Peter Pan Return to Neverland, Fantasia 2000, The Black Cauldron (read the book, though!), Bambi (or I did and remember nothing about it), The Rescuersm, The Rescuers Down Under, Planes Fire and Rescue, Bambi 2, The Fox & the Found, Oliver and Company, Atlantis, Treasure Planet (I want to, though), Piglet’s Big Movie, The Jungle Book, the Emporer’s New Groove, The Jungle Book 2, Chicken Little, Brother Bear, The Three Caballeros, Pooh’s Heffalump Movie, Dumbo, The Adventures of Ichabod and Mr. Toad, Aladdin (seen parts but never the whole thing), Strange Magic, The Sword in the Stone, James and the Giant Peach, Frankenweenie, Lady and the Tramp, Ralph Breaks the Internet, Doug’s 1st Movie, Monsters Inc. (want to, though), Meet the Robinsons, Dinosaur, The Aristocats, Robin Hood, The Tigger Movie, Who Framed Roger Rabbit, that pooh movie at the end without the title on it

-11/21/20