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be-gay-do-heists · 3 years ago

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hello yall :) the holy month of elul started last night, which is typically a time for contemplation, so since it is impossible for me to stop thinking about leverage, i decided to write an essay. hope anyone interested in reading it enjoys, and that it makes at least a little sense!! spoilers for leverage redemption

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Leverage, Judaism, and “Doing the Work”: An Essay for Elul

When it comes to Elul and the approaching High Holidays, Leverage might seem like an odd topic to meditate on.

The TNT crime drama that ran from 2008-2012, and which released a new season this summer following its renewal, centers on a group of found-family thieves who help the victims of corporations and oligarchs (sometimes based on real-world examples), using wacky heists and cons to bring down the rich and powerful. In one episode, the team’s clients want to reclaim their father’s prized Glimt piece that had been stolen in the Shoah and never returned, but aside from this and the throwaway lines and jokes standard for most mainstream television, there’s not a ton textually Jewish about Leverage. However, despite this, I have found that the show has strong resonance among Jewish fans, and lots of potential for analysis along Jewish themes. This tends to focus on one character in particular: the group’s brilliant, pop culture-savvy, and personable hacker, Alec Hardison, played by the phenomenally talented Aldis Hodge.

I can’t remember when or where I first encountered a reading of Hardison as Jewish, but not only is this a somewhat popular interpretation, it doesn’t feel like that much of a leap. In the show itself, Hardison has a couple of the aforementioned throwaway lines that potentially point to him being Jewish, even if they’re only in service of that moment’s grift. It’s hard to point to what exactly makes reading Hardison as Jewish feel so natural. My first guess is the easy way Hardison fits into the traditional paradigms of Jewish masculinity explored by scholars such as Daniel Boyarin (2). Most of the time, the hacker is not portrayed as athletic or physical; he is usually the foil to the team’s more physically-adept characters like fighter Eliot, or thief Parker. Indeed, Hardison’s strength is mental, expressed not only through his computer wizardry but his passions for science, technology, music, popular media, as well as his studious research into whatever scenario the group might come up against. In spite of his self-identification as a “geek,” Hardison is nevertheless confident, emotionally sensitive, and secure in his masculinity. I would argue he is representative of the traditional Jewish masculine ideal, originating in the rabbinic period and solidified in medieval Europe, of the dedicated and thoughtful scholar (3). Another reason for popular readings of Hardison as Jewish may be the desire for more representation of Jews of color. Although mainstream American Jewish institutions are beginning to recognize the incredible diversity of Jews in the United States (4), and popular figures such as Tiffany Haddish are amplifying the experiences of non-white Jews, it is still difficult to find Jews of color represented in popular media. For those eager to see this kind of representation, then, interpreting Hardison, a black man who places himself tangential to Jewishness, in this way is a tempting avenue.

Regardless, all of the above remains fan interpretation, and there was little in the text of the show that seriously tied Judaism into Hardison’s identity. At least, until we got this beautiful speech from Hardison in the very first episode of the renewed show, directed at the character of Harry Wilson, a former corporate lawyer looking to atone for the injustice he was partner to throughout his career:

“In the Jewish faith, repentance, redemption, is a process. You can’t make restitution and then promise to change. You have to change first. Do the work, Harry. Then and only then can you begin to ask for forgiveness. [...] So this… this isn’t the win. It’s the start, Harry.”

I was floored to hear this speech, and thrilled that it explained the reboot’s title, Leverage: Redemption. Although not mentioned by its Hebrew name, teshuvah forms the whole basis for the new season. Teshuvah is the concept of repentance or atonement for the sins one has committed. Stemming from the root shuv/shuva, it carries the literal sense of “return.” In a spiritual context, this usually means a return to G-d, of finding one’s way back to holiness and by extension good favor in the eyes of the Divine. But equally important is restoring one’s relationships with fellow humans by repairing any hurt one has caused over the past year. This is of special significance in the holy month of Elul, leading into Rosh haShanah, the Yamim Noraim, and Yom Kippur, but one can undertake a journey of redemption at any point in time. That teshuvah is a journey is a vital message for Harry to hear; one job, one reparative act isn’t enough to overturn years of being on the wrong side of justice, to his chagrin. As the season progresses, we get to watch his path of teshuvah unfold, with all its frustrations and consequences. Harry grows into his role as a fixer, not only someone who can find jobs and marks for the team, but fixes what he has broken or harmed.

So why was Hardison the one to make this speech?

I do maintain that it does provide a stronger textual basis for reading Hardison as Jewish by implication (though the brief on-screen explanation for why he knows about teshuvah, that his foster-parent Nana raised a multi-faith household, is important in its own merit, and meshes well with his character traits of empathy and understanding for diverse experiences). However, beyond this, Hardison isn’t exactly an archetypical model for teshuvah. In the original series, he was the youngest character of the main ensemble, a hacking prodigy in the start of his adult career, with few mistakes or slights against others under his belt. In one flashback we see that his possibly first crime was stealing from the Bank of Iceland to pay off his Nana’s medical bills, and that his other early hacking exploits were in the service of fulfilling personal desires, with only those who could afford to pay the bill as targets. Indeed, in the middle of his speech, Hardison points to Eliot, the character with the most violent and gritty past who views his work with the Leverage team as atonement, for a prime example of ongoing teshuvah. So while no one is perfect and everyone has a reason for doing teshuvah, this question of why Hardison is the one to give this series-defining speech inspired me to look at his character choices and behavior, and see how they resonate with a different but interrelated Jewish principle, that of tikkun olam.

Tikkun olam is literally translated as “repairing the world,” and can take many different forms, such as protecting the rights of vulnerable people in society, or giving tzedakah (5). In modern times, tikkun olam is often the rallying cry for Jewish social activists, particularly among environmentalists for whom literally restoring the health of the natural world is the key goal. Teshuvah and tikkun olam are intertwined (the former is the latter performed at an interpersonal level) and both hold a sense of fixing or repairing, but tikkun olam really revolves around a person feeling called to address an injustice that they may have not had a personal hand in creating. Hardison’s sense of a universal scale of justice which he has the power to help right on a global level and his newfound drive to do humanitarian work, picked up sometime after the end of the original series, make tikkun olam a central value for his character. This is why we get this nice bit of dialogue from Eliot to Hardison in the second episode of the reboot, when the latter’s outside efforts to organize international aid start distracting him from his work with the team: “Is [humanitarian work] a side gig? In our line of work, you’re one of the best. But in that line of work… you’re the only one, man.” The character who most exemplifies teshuvah reminds Hardison of his amazing ability to effect change for the better on a huge stage, to do some effective tikkun olam. It’s this acknowledgement of where Hardison can do the most good that prompts the character’s absence for the remainder of the episodes released thus far, turning his side gig into his main gig.

With this in mind, it will be interesting to see where Hardison’s arc for this season goes. Separated from the rest of the team, the hacker still has remarkable power to change the world, because it is, after all, the “age of the geek.” However, he is still one person. For all that both teshuvah and tikkun olam are individual responsibilities and require individual decision-making and effort, the latter especially relies on collective work to actually make things happen. Hardison leaving is better than trying to do humanitarian work and Leverage at the same time, but there’s only so long he can be the “only one” in the field before burning out. I’m reminded of one of the most famous (for good reason) maxims in Judaism:

It is not your duty to finish the work, but neither are you free to neglect it. (6)

Elul is traditionally a time for introspection and heeding the calls to repentance. After a year where it’s never been easier to feel powerless and drained by everything going on around us, I think it’s worth taking the time to examine what kind of work we are capable of in our own lives. Maybe it’s fixing the very recent and tangible hurts we’ve left behind, like Harry. Maybe it’s the little changes for the better that we make every day, motivated by our sense of responsibility, like Eliot. And maybe it’s the grueling challenge of major social change, like Hardison. And if any of this work gets too much, who can we fall back on for support and healing? Determining what needs repair, working on our own scale and where our efforts are most helpful, and thereby contributing to justice in realistic ways means that we can start the new year fresh, having contemplated in holiday fashion how we can be better agents in the world.

Shana tovah u’metukah and ketivah tovah to all (7), and may the work we do in the coming year be for good!

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(1) Disclaimer: everybody’s fandom experiences are different, and this is just what I’ve picked up on in my short time watching and enjoying this show with others.

(2) See, for example, the introduction and first chapter of Boyarin’s book Unheroic Conduct: The Rise of Heterosexuality and the Invention of the Jewish Man (I especially recommend at least this portion if you are interested in queer theory and Judaic studies). There he explores the development of Jewish masculinity in direct opposition to Christian masculine standards.

(3) I might even go so far as to place Hardison well within the Jewish masculine ideal of Edelkayt, gentle and studious nobility (although I would hesitate to call him timid, another trait associated with Edelkayt). Boyarin explains that this scholarly, non-athletic model of man did not carry negative associations in the historical Jewish mindset, but was rather the height of attractiveness (Boyarin, 2, 51).

(4) Jews of color make up 20% of American Jews, according to statistics from Be’chol Lashon, and this number is projected to increase as American demographics continue to change: https://globaljews.org/about/mission/.

(5) Tzedakah is commonly known as righteous charity. According to traditional authority Maimonides, it should be given anonymously and without embarrassment to the person in need, generous, and designed to help the recipient become self-sufficient.

(6) Rabbi Tarfon, Pirkei Avot, 2:16

(7) “A good and sweet year” and “a good inscription [in the Book of Life]”

#leverage #miko speaks #jewish stuff #jumblr #leverage redemption #spoilers #lr spoilers #leverage redemption spoilers #written for a non leverage audience because i want my rabbi to read it alskdjflaksdjf #elul

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tokoyamisstuff · 4 years ago

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Meant To Be - Loki x Fem! Reader

Summary: Much to your displeasure, your parents have promised you away to the God of Mischief of all people.

Tags: Arranged Marriage AU, Light Elf! Reader

Warnings: Aside from Loki hating himself, nothing.

Words: 2878

I Masterlist I

A/N: Some good old-fashioned, ‘redeemed after The Avengers and the other movies didn’t happen’ Loki. Like, really cheesy, self-indulgent 2012 stuff. I just want to ignore all misery that happens in the series okay?

“Ew! Stop it!”

You were eight at the time when you and Loki first met, by means of negotiation between both your parents.

If only you knew that this encounter should be the first impression of what should be your husband in the near future...

Frigga and Odin could only plead for their son to be on his best behavior - but well, it’s the God of Mischief we’re talking about. Must be hard to inherit such a title from your very birth.

Just when you put the little bonquet of flowers he had picked up for you towards your face to admire it, several little spiders emerged from the blossoms.

“You’re no fun.” The raven-haired boy stood a safe distance away from you, arms crossed as his gleeful laughter turned into a broad sulk. "And your ears are weird.”

“I hate you!” you screeched in your childish rage, throwing the flowers to the ground and trampling onto them. “Where’s your brother? Thor is way nicer than you!”

“Well, why don’t you marry him then?!” he mocked to cover up his hurt pride, picking up a handful of dirt and throwing it in your direction.

“I don’t need any friends anyway...” the little boy whispered to himself, running away from the scene with tears filling the corner of his eyes.

“I don’t need anyone. I’m way better than all of them!”

Not even Frigga was fast enough to catch up with him, while Odin uttered some fake apologies to your parents, promising them that everything will go as planned.

You on the other hand were running towards your mother, tightly grabbing onto her dress. “He’s mean! I wanna go home!”

As Queen of the Light Elves, your mother was a being full of grace and composure - and you were hoping to one day become such a formidable person as well.

She bowed down to your height, petting your hair as you rubbed the mixture of tears and dirt from your cheeks. Just her bright smile alone would sometimes be enough to make you forget about your worries - but not today.

“My sweet child” she cooed, cradling you in her arms. “One day you’ll understand.”

However, this would be the last time you paid Asgard a visit - at least until now. Because no matter how deeply you wished to never meet him again, the words your mother spoke on that day haunted you all those years:

“For this is your duty as a princess.”

[Present Day - Asgard]

It felt so unreal when you stuck your head outside of the wooden carriage, the wind playing with your hair as your glare wandered over the rainbow bridge you were crossing.

Silence strained the air, your parents unable to do even so much as look into your eyes. Hel, how you wished this was only a dream.

Behind you was a whole company of Light Elves, transporting all of your belongings to what should be your homecountry from now on.

Now there was no way back, that much was sure.

You were supposed to meet your soon-to-be husband on that very same day, one day before your wedding to be precize.

One could only guess why you weren’t allowed to visit Asgard again for all those years, even though you were practically born just for this reason - for this person.

To become Loki’s bride was your involuntary purpose, and you couldn’t help but wonder what it would be like to be truly free.

Maybe your parents thought the God of Mischief to have a bad influence on their growing daughter, pulling you into his harmless yet dishonorable schemes. Or they simply feared you to refuse marrying said man if you got to know him better, finding out just what kind of person you were promised to.

Not that your parents were pleased either...everyone in the Nine Realms knew the stories.

To Odin, there was no point in hiding the disgrace his adoptive son had brought over Asgard. Not only was he responsible for an attack on Midgard, sacrificing thousands of lives for his own sake, drunken by greed for power.

But all of you were shocked to hear that Loki Odinson - or rather Laufeyson - was never Asgardian to begin with.

A Frost Giant.

Among your kind, they were known to be one of the most terrible abominations in the nine realms, and murderer of countless of your kind - and this should be the father to your future children?

Only thinking about this cruel twist of fate made you want to vomit...

So why did you agree to proceed with the preparations as if nothing had happened? How in Alfheim’s name could you reject their offer to wed you to Thor instead of that lunatic?

Was it that through your upbringing and royal duties, you had lost your own free will? Or simply fear of stepping aside the path that everyone had prepared for you?

It was probably the fact that you didn’t want to get into true love’s way...you and Thor stayed in brief contact through Heimdall, and you just knew how much that human girl meant to him.

You were kinda jealous, though...the concept of being in love was foreign to you, having a vague idea of it from novels only. But real life just wasn’t meant to be that was, was it?

You couldn’t escape your fate, that was what it was - for this treaty would unite both kingdoms, bringing peace and wealth for all of their inhabitants.

No way you could be so selfish as to decline...even if it meant you had to suffer for the rest of your life.

“My Ladyship, we have arrived!” a guard spoke as he knocked on the carriage door, with your parents hinting that you needed to step out first.

The very same guard now yelled from the pit of his lungs, making you feel the whole Kingdom of Asgard could hear. “Now arriving: Lady Y/N Y/L/N, eldest Princess of Alfheim and heir to the throne.”

You heared the people whispering as you took your first, insecure steps, blinded by the bright daylight.

“She’s so pale, like ice” or “Why are her ears like that?” were rather nice comments compared to others plainly calling you ugly, scary or a ‘disgrace’.

Of course your Kingdoms had been in a war for several decades, but this was long in the past - before your very birth, even. So what’s the reason you should bear with such hostility in the place everyone expected you to call ‘home’ from now on?

One thing was clear from the very beginning: You would never belong here.

“May I?” a dark, husky voice interrupted your self-pitying. You blinked heavily, still trying to adjust to all those golden surroundings, until your blurry vision finally cleared up.

“C’mon.” The voice belonged to the man in front of you, looking gravely nervous with sweat dripping from his forehead. He was reaching out a hand for you to take, and you gladly accepted since you didn’t want to embarass yourself further by falling out of the carriage.

And still, you managed to somehow miss a step and fall right into his arms. “Oh my, so clumsy” the man snickered as he catched you, clearing his throat as you grabbed onto his chest to regain balance. "Not very graceful for someone of your status.”

“And you are-” The words got stuck in your throat when you stared back into those eyes, their emerald green awaking memories you’d rather forgotten entirely. “L-Loki!”

“Exactly, my dear. The one and only.” Smooth and calm, he pecked a kiss on the back of your hand, andyou couldn’t help but admire just how well he had aged: His wild locks were combed back, sharp features complimenting his face as he tried his best to give you his most innocent smile.

Yet you kept your guard up, always expecting him to somehow embarass you just for the fun of it. “When it comes to him, always expect the unexpected” Thor once warned you, and you won’t forget about it that easily.

“It’s a pleasure finally meeting you” was your firm declaration, only to be rewarded with a scoff. “You are speaking to the God of Lies, Lady Y/N - there is no use in trying to deceive me” he whispered into your ear, making you shiver in unpleasant anticipation.

“Carry her belongings to my rooms” he dismissed the servants with a simple gesture of his hand, offering his other arm for you to cling on as he escorted you through the palace.

The giant halls were almost empty, nothing like back on Alfheim where you and your brethren would enjoy each other’s company in midst of nature. A sole tear escaped your eye when you thought back to those carefree days, which are now over.

“Are you alright, m’lady?” Much to your surprise, your fiancé sounded honestly concerned about your well-being. “If you are tired, we can postpone our tour of the palace until you’ve rested.”

“May I speak from the heart?” You gulped after finishing that sentence, scaring yourself with all the stories you’ve heared about this mad troublemaker.

Somehow you had the feeling that if you were to overstep your boundaries with that brute, it would have consequences beyond your imagination. He might seem generous and polite right this moment, but what would someone like him do if you enrage him? Countless images were circling in your head, one worse than the other.

Loki furrowed his brows, exhalinge deeply. For him, your expression was an open book to what you were thinking right now.

“Y/N, my dear Lady, if you want it or not: Starting tomorrow, we share a bond. I am deeply sorry that a veritable flower as you are had to end up with someone like me, but I promise to treat you as well as possible.”

Turning around so you’d not detect how it hurt him to speak from the heart, he added with a shaky voice “Yet there is no reason for you to hold back your hatred for me. No harm will come your way, I swear upon the little honor I have left.”

Even though his words made you feel a deep sympathy with the god, you weren’t quite sure if you could decipher truth or deceit in them. Maybe he just wanted to lure you into saying what you truly thought of him?

He’s right - you will have to spend the rest of your life with him, so don’t mess this up from the very start!

“I-I don’t hate you!” was the first thing you blurted out, grabbing onto his cloak. Loki turned around, rising his eyebrow as he scanned your face for any hint of a lie.

Althrough it was the truth, at least to a certain extend. You’ve seen each other only once, when you were still little. The rest is all tales and rumours, but you personally don’t have a reason to despise him.

There was no way you could promise to accept his past or heritage, let alone forgive him - yet as long as he’d treat you with respect, you’d return the favour.

“T-There’s just a question on my mind this whole time...aren’t you mad? I-I mean someone like- well...like you...” you gestured around awkardly, almost making him crack a smile. “I mean...I thought you wouldn’t let your parents dictate your life.”

Another deep sigh escaping his mouth, this times with his eyes closed. “This isn’t about Asgard or my adoptive parents. I choose my own path.”

Suddenly, Loki wrapped one arm around you, flicking his fingers with the free one.

“Hold onto me” he ordered indifferent as he casted his spell, teleporting both of you away before you could even comprehend, let alone ask him what he was doing.

It happened in the fraction of a second, yet felt like hovering through an empty space for an eternity.

“Now open your eyes.” You hadn’t even realized that you squeezed them shut during the shift, slowly opening them while Loki lifted your chin with his index finger.

The environment was magnificent. Had you ever seen something this beautiful in your whole life?

Obviously you had no clue where you were, but this was the first time seeing so much untouched nature on Asgard. There were flowers blooming in all colours imagineable, clear rivers crossing the lands in between grassy hills, and animals nearby a small forrest.

“It’s not like I didn’t educate myself about the Light Elves and their way of living” Loki stammered, unconsciously intertwining your fingers with yours as he watched you admiring the view. “So I could make you comfortable here, I mean.”

He plummeted down on the grass, still a little wet from the morning dew, and gestured for you to do the same. It was weird, actually, but also somehow adorable - how the infamous ‘Silver Tongue’ had lost his ability with words. “I’ve done very little right in my life full of wrongs. Hurt a lot of people.”

“Mmmhh” you hummed approvingly, not knowing what else to say - yet for some reason, you didn’t let go off of his hand, squeezing it ever so slightly.

“And even though I can’t possibly redeem myself, I wish to change for the better.” he muttered, rubbing the back of his head. “I just never knew how to start.”

Loki Odinson really was full of surprises. He was nothing like the child you’ve met long ago, and the complete opposite of what you imagined the ‘God of Mischief’ to be.

You had expected a power-hungry, selfish and cruel man to wed you - and yet there he was: Insecure and broken, only a shell of the person he once was.

Just what had you missed all those years? What things happened to break someone’s will like this?

And was he truly beyond repair?

“Those past weeks, I have visited Alfheim more times than you could comprehend” he giggled nervously, avoiding your eyes. “Concealed, of course.”

Well, that sounded kind of weird, but you knew better than to talk someone down who was just opening up to you. So your sole answer was “What for?”

“There was no way a criminal like me would still be seemed fit for this ceremony - and yet I was given this chance anyway. My mother told me that it was you who insisted on carrying on the arrangement, so...I just wanted to know what person would be willingly ruin their life.”

Something different was shining through the god’s orbs, and you couldn’t quite decipher it. Was it hope? Hope, that if you had given him a chance, his life could lead into a different direction? To change himself from the burden that was his birth title?

“I-I guess I don’t want to mess this up like I always do” he whimpered barely audible, before staring at you in shock and embarassment. Until now, he hadn’t realized just how vulnerable he made himself.

Just what the hell would you think about him now? You probably had lost any respect, or thought himself to be crazy. How weak...

So he was quick to put on the confident facade again, wearing his smug grin as if that all was just part of a big joke only he’d understand. But even though you barely knew him, he couldn’t fool you.

“Sometimes it’s enough just to try.” Your head turned from the sight of nature to your fiancé and back several times, before you brought up the courage and put a hand on his shoulder, whispering “So you can’t really mess this up.”

“Gladly you don’t seem to know yet just how much misery I cause.” He kept that thought to himself, to not scare you away.

“I am aware that you could never love someone like me, Y/N. But I can provide for you, dedicate myself to making you content with being my wife. My newfound purpose.”

The purpose of a war criminal - that sure put yourself under a lot of pressure. And still, it made you somewhat proud, and grateful as well. Because it was the first time someone valued you as a person, and not the princess of Alfheim.

Unaware of how much time had passed, both of you would get used to each other’s presence in silence, enjoying the nature while you processed this eventful day.

Exhausted from the long travel and all that rollercoaster of emotion, you soon found yourself dazzling into sleep onto Loki’s shoulder. If only you could see him adore you, staring in awe that someone could actually feel so safe in his presence.

Carefully, the god picked you up, gently lifting you on his arms to make your way back to the palace, where everyone was frantically searching for both of you. Well, Loki was used to trouble - but right now, it was worth it.

May it be right or wrong, and even though you couldn’t explain this sentiment, you had a good feeling when it came to the things that were just about to come.

“You won’t regret your decision, Y/N Y/L/N. On my side, I assure you a bright future.”

#Loki #Loki x Reader #Loki x You #Loki Odinson #Loki Laufeyson #Loki Friggason #Loki/Reader #Loki/You #Self Insert #Fanfiction #Arranged Marriage #Writing #Marvel #Asgard

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daantaat · 2 years ago

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random thoughts/theories on apple tv bad sisters (based on the opening credits and the first two eps.) spoilers below the cut and also tw for some mentions of domestic abuse and manipulative behavior

original show

when i watched the first episode of bad sisters, i didn’t know that the show was based on the 2012 flemish/belgian series clan! it makes me wonder how much is different compared to that but i know with a lot of adaptations there are slight changes to fit the setting/culture/language/location/etc.

i haven’t watched the original series besides the trailer and bad sisters looks to be very similar (obviously lol. and the wikipedia page for clan looks very detailed in terms of episode summaries so i wouldn’t recommend reading that wiki page if you want to avoid spoilers and go into bad sisters without knowing too much).

apparently the creator of the original series (malin-sarah gozin) is an executive producer on bad sisters so that’s cool :D

opening credits

i like the opening credits! reminds me of elementary with the rube goldberg contraption. not sure what the original series’ opening credits look like, but the goldberg contraption visual with the pj harvey cover of leonard cohen’s who by fire accompanying it is a great combination as well, kind of setting the scene and asking the questions: who killed john paul and how did they do it/how did he meet his end?

a basic rundown of the opening sequence and most of its items:

1. taxidermy badger whose left eye pops out and puts everything in motion, hitting another taxidermy eye.

there could be something said about badger symbolism, like bravery, protection, aggression.

2. the taxidermy eye rolls along archery arrows leading the eye to knock over blocks wrapped in maps of dublin/etc, which then knocks over a statue of a praying religious figure

3. the momentum of the falling figure triggers a lampshade rigged with knives to start spinning, causing an apple to tip over, and that momentum then causes an axe connected to the apple to fall and cut a red string

not to be killing eve “apple, eve” internet search but one can read into the symbolism here lol

severed “red string of fate” between grace and john paul?

also i can’t tell if the red string is a string of yarn, because in the trailer i think grace is knitting something with red yarn

4. a miniature boat similar to the one john paul has (named “true grace”) rolls along a track and is framed by a ring buoy (there’s also a captain’s hat in the background)

5. the boat hits a petroleum spirit can of lighter fluid (at the very bottom it looks like it says “TYRANN C FIRE” which idk what to read into that or if it's just actually part of the prop lol) and it spills out its (non-liquid) contents of what looks to be a blue bead-like substance onto a mill wheel to spin a tied-up figure holding a bursting bottle of champagne

it is said john paul doesn’t drink but we do see him drink champagne with grace, thus leading to him not letting grace drive to the forty foot to meet the rest of the sisters. and he had a blood alcohol level way above 1% so...

6. as the figure spins, the red string tightens and pulls the trigger of a fake/prank gun with a “bang” flag

7. then a cog(?) tied to some blue and green fabric (bow tie? neck tie? there are also men’s ties in the background) topples over a tower of monopoly money with john paul’s face on them and the delicate teacup sitting at the top of the tower

teacup could represent grace but i also could just be reading too much into it lol

8. the falling teacup is rigged to and lifts a paper titled “life insurance plan,” and a watermelon sitting atop the paper rolls into a book causing a domino effect of falling books: mushrooms of the world (so i’m assuming poison... hello phantom thread), insurance law & you, one shot left, the complete guide to wild mushrooms, time to wine, best places to wild swim

other books that were in the stack that held the apple and the axe: modern home doctor, the human body (could relate to ursula, who is a nurse, or to thomas/matt who try to start the process of exhuming the body for an autopsy in episode 2)

9. the last book in the domino sequence (best places to wild swim) is tied to a box of matches, the inner box falls but ignites a line of matches which in turn burns a picture of john paul

there’s not a 100% clear shot of it, but it looks like there’s an illustration of a badger on the match box, so the whole sequence starts and ends with a badger

based on the bad sisters trailer i think a lot of the items seen in the opening credits are things that are used in the sisters’ attempts to kill john paul, so we just have to figure out what exactly did the deed... the claffin brothers recoil at the photo of john paul’s body but when he’s in his casket his face looks fine and done up because of the make up so hmmmmmm

general thoughts/characters

eva: sharon playing another iconic eldest sister and being a cool aunt... yeah! also the bits of eva’s backstory make me sad and i know we’ll get even more context as the series goes on but :((((((( the conversation eva and john paul had at blanaid’s confirmation was so unbelievable like... sharon's performance in that scene was so good, like the rage and hurt in eva's eyes... :(

eva name meaning: life or giver of life... which... D: (although it is revealed she is unable to have children, she also raised her younger sisters and obviously cares for her nieces and nephews)

ursula: eva birthistle... hello... also hello beth and edie imagine me and you reunion even though they didn’t have any scenes together in the movie <3 episode 3 looks to be about ursula a little more so i’m interested to see what happens since john paul had witnessed her with her lover (who also attended john paul’s funeral and whom ursula’s husband saw there as well)

ursula name meaning: little female bear. i have to say i don’t know what to take from this lol

grace: anne-marie duff... oh... i feel so bad for grace and blanaid :((( the abuse/manipulative behavior from john paul that grace endures behind closed doors and even in public (blanaid’s confirmation) is so heartbreaking and the fact that blanaid has witnessed his behavior (him writing it off as “worry[ing] too much”) and has adjusted the way she acts because she knows john paul doesn’t like certain things (blanaid stopping her dance when john paul comes home because— in his view— it’s a dancing style that makes it seem like she’s “asking for it”)... :( it’s so upsetting.

seeing grace with her sisters shows how much john paul is affecting her. like just dancing with eva and blanaid or singing along to a song at the lizzo concert when it’s just her and blanaid... it’s such a contrast to when john paul is there gaslighting her and being controlling (and even when he calls them as they’ve just entered the concert, the tone absolutely shifts because you just know how the conversation will go). and the scene where grace asks the sisters in episode 1 to just let her be happy... ahh :(

also idk what to think of this but i’m pretty sure john paul gave her an emerald necklace for christmas and according to the bad sisters wikipedia page, the show was originally titled emerald. hmm

grace name meaning: goodness and generosity

bibi: sarah greene... HELLO bibi. spare hand in marriage? the first sister who actually considered carrying out a plan... perhaps i’m reading too much into it but the whole thing with the taxidermy badger eye popping out at the beginning of the opening sequence and the fact that in episode 2 eva says “i know what he did. if anyone deserves to hate him—” to which bibi replies “this isn’t revenge”... makes me think john paul had something to do with her right eye, though i’m not sure when she got that injury based off the pictures we see of the sisters in the opening sequence

bibi name meaning (though it could be a nickname for something else): lady of the house, life

becka: eve hewson reminds me SO much of aisling bea in terms of physical appearance, and even becka reminds me of aine (this way up), with them being the youngest sister and starting their own businesses lol. i’m not sure what to make of her crying at the funeral (which bibi reads as pretend crying) and eva telling her that everything bad that could have happened has [already] happened... hmm. also not sure about her wearing that bright pink sweater/being the only one to not wear black in the promo imagery (i know she was wearing the sweater on her way to the funeral and took it off when she got there), like at the very least it could just be a manifestation of her personality and being the youngest sister who shared the least amount of years of knowing grace (the other sisters telling her that grace was different before john paul “[sucked] the life out of her”). anyway she and matt are kinda cute. interesting to know that she hasn’t met thomas yet and none of the sisters know she’s talking to matt

becka name meaning (might be a shortened version of rebecka): to bind/tie

matt: daryl mccormack! i like how he’s handling the “case” in general and how he views it/approaches things compared to his half-brother, though it’s understandable why he is still working with thomas to try to save the family business. since he has his own dreams of being a bass player, we’ll see how things go...

matt/matthew name meaning: gift of god

thomas: brian gleeson... i know thomas has his motivations for the family business and taking care of his wife but omg. stealing eva’s trash for “evidence” and tricking a widow into signing a permission form to exhume her dead husband’s body is not the way to go. though i guess he has to go to certain lengths for his family just as the garvey sisters aimed to protect grace and each other

thomas name meaning: twin

john-paul: claes bang is doing a good job of portraying “the prick” john paul. he can be “charming” when he’s with grace and blanaid but when he switches modes it’s like... oh no :( the amount of times i had to raise my hand to my face in shock whenever that man on screen... truly despicable character

john paul name meaning: humble and gracious

other thoughts... not sure what to think about the neighbor who keeps asking about the boat and said goodbye to grace at the funeral... hmm

big tangent here but i think i saw a headline that mentioned big little lies and i definitely see similarities, like the monterey five and the five garvey sisters, and a death in each story. the main differences being we know who dies at the beginning of bad sisters, while we don’t know who dies in big little lies until the end, and the abuse celeste was subject to was mainly behind closed doors and none of the other monterey five knew until trivia night, meanwhile the garvey sisters know john paul is a prick early on.

anyway yeah i know claffin & sons is/are the new “antagonist(s)” (seeing that john paul is dead at the start of the story) since they’re trying to prove the garvey sisters’ fraud to void the insurance claim but hmm, we have two sibling groups (garvey sisters and claffin brothers) who both want to protect their families in some respect. and we have becka and matt in a kind of romeo and juliet situation? i guess? idk but if we get a tragic ending... :( but it’s a dark comedy though so idk

all that being said i’m looking forward to the rest of bad sisters (i do wonder how the story will unfold in 8 more episodes/10 total. it seems like a lot to work with) and i’m very interested in watching the original series to compare!

#me writing all of this out with no real theory: hello #my post #k.txt #bad sisters #abuse tw

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strawwritesfic · 3 years ago

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Bruce Banner x Female!Civilian!Reader: Oh My Dear [Ch. 25]

Summary: For [F Name] [L Name], Manhattan was nothing but a hellhole. She got out and wasn’t ever coming back. When a set of cut-rate superheroes tears the city apart, however, her grandmother sucks her back into that familiar life of loneliness and angry customers. Even worse, one of those superheroes has decided to use [Name] in another crazy plan to “help” his best friend. Unfortunately for everyone involved, Tony’s plan just might work-if only for a few months.

Challenge: “#1 AVENGERS ULTIMATE CHALLENGE!!!!“ by DancingBubbles on Lunaescence Archives.

Ratings/Warnings/Tags: T (foul language; sexual references; manipulative friends who won’t take no for an answer; dead parents; difficult relationships with family members; some language that might border on verbal abuse from a family member; angst; contrived coincidences; a generally unresearched depiction of paraplegia; set post-Avengers (2012) and pre-Age of Ultron; Tony & Bruce friendship)

Pairings: Bruce Banner/Female!Reader; Tony Stark/Pepper Potts; Past!Bruce Banner/Betty Ross

Tag List: @imaginesfire

Master List

Chapter 25: Beautiful Things

Why had SHIELD let you go?

That was the question that kept popping up inside your head, interrupting your conversations and distracting you even with the haze of fatigue still clinging to your brain. One minute, you were dully handing a customer their bags; the next, Director Fury’s voice echoed through your mind:

“Dr. Banner said we were to release you immediately. Now, Miss [L Name], what kind of a monster would do that?”

The resulting scowl always had the customer looking highly offended, and you couldn’t be bothered to shout after them to explain yourself. What did it matter if they thought you rude? You pushed away your frustration as they left. It couldn’t be Bruce that got you off, not after that little exchange in your prison cell. “'It’s been nice, [Name]‘”? What the hell did that even mean? But you were expected to believe he just went and asked for them to let you out?

“Move your ass, [Name]. If you’re just going to stand aimlessly in the doorway, you can leave. You’re not supposed to be here anyway.”

“And you are?” you asked.

It was difficult to keep the heat in your voice, but evidently Mr. Banner noticed it anyway, since he gave you the stink eye as he passed. You just rolled your eyes in return and huffed off to make sure Preston hadn’t lit anything on fire.

Because, of course, you were back at the Stand. After making return to Manhattan the day before, you’d been unable to stomach the idea of going back to the apartment. Obviously Stark Tower was out. Nana’s grocery store was the only other place you had a key to, so you’d crashed in the back office. Maybe you could have caught a flight out of the city, but something else Fury had said bothered you enough not to try that route: “Might want to stick around. After all, Dr. Banner didn’t tell me where he’s going. Perhaps you’re headed in the same direction. Wouldn’t want him to eat you or anything.”

“Shut up! You’re as bad as Tony Stark,” you grumbled.

“Uh…I wasn’t talking?” After you blinked a few times, you realized that Preston was blinking back at you, looking utterly confused by your behavior. “And I bet Tony Stark wouldn’t be caught dead hanging out in a place like this, so that insult is pretty lame, [Name].”

“Whatever. Just–Just keep stocking.”

“I was. What did they do to you during that interrogation yesterday?”

“I wasn’t interrogated!”

As though things weren’t bad enough before Nana told all her friends you were some sort of criminal again. With a final toss of your hands into the air, you whirled about and walked briskly up to the counter. You caught only a flash of Hailey’s nervous eyes before she ducked away and wandered off in the direction of the broom and dustpan. A couple of customers moved through the line in front of you, and then at last you had some semblance of peace.

“[Name], I’m really sorry.”

Your fingers smashed into register buttons so hard that they hurt. The resulting clang of the drawer shooting out seemed to echo through the store. Seeing as how every square foot of tile had been crammed with people last time you checked, your head slowly rose to look around. Every single person had frozen. Had your anger really been that impressive? You choked away an apology before you could speak it. No one was looking at you anyway. All eyes were trained toward the man stepping through the door. The bells tied to the handle jingled quite unnecessarily, but still he paused to look around.

“You have got to be kidding me,” you muttered.

Hailey was the first to break the silence. She tossed the broom into a nearby corner; the heels of her shoes clacked as she made her way to him. Without missing a beat, she thrust out a hand and the sparkling smile that had earned the Stand several customers flashed onto her face.

“Mr. Stark! What an honor to have you here! Is there anything I can do to help you?” she said.

“Um…” Tony squinted for a long moment at Hailey’s hand, then looked back up at her face. “Yeah, I need to talk to [F Name] [L Name]. She wouldn’t happen to be around, would she?”

“Oh!” Apparently Tony’s neglecting to shake her hand or even introduce himself didn’t deter Hailey a bit. In fact, her smile only widened as she pointed toward you, no matter how hard and fast you shook your head. “Yes, she’s right over there! Let me know if you need anything else.”

And she was gone. Before Hailey even disappeared around a shelf, Tony’s gaze was on you. You took a step to the side as if to run, but found Preston blocking your way. He, too, was staring straight at Tony.

“I guess you were right about earlier,” he said completely sincerely. “Was I making out with too many women back there?”

“Now is really not the time, Preston.”

“Why not? It’s not as though he wants to talk to–”

“Hey, are you busy?” Tony interrupted. You cut your eyes in Preston’s direction, only to see his mouth pop into an “o.” With a huff, you turned in Tony’s direction, hands already on your hips.

“Yeah,” you answered. “A little.” Before Tony could do a better job of cornering you, you attempted to shove past Preston. Unfortunately, the boy had frozen completely to gape slack-jawed at Tony Stark. You gave him an impatient shove. “Preston, move.”

But Preston didn’t move. Instead, he shook his head as though to clear it and then straightened up for the first time since your introduction to him. “Mr. Stark? I am a huge fan. Your work with artificial intelligence is so inspiring. I’ve been working on a little something and I wondered if–”

“Yeah, sure, kid.” Without taking his eyes off of you, Tony withdrew a business card from his pocket and shoved it into Preston’s hand. Preston responded with only a shaky inhale of admiration. He still didn’t move. He just stood there, looking at the card with wide, shining eyes. “Look, [Name]. I just want to talk.”

“There’s nothing for us to talk about.”

Tony’s eyebrows shot straight up. The noise in the store began to climb again with the murmurs and whispers of the observers. “Uh, yeah. There is. I know Fury let you go last night but–”

“Are you going to lock me up now, Mr. Stark?”

“What?” His brow furrowed. With your eyes glued to Preston’s awestruck expression, you barely caught the shift. “No. I just want to talk.”

“Well, I can’t talk right now.” You gestured widely at the crowd, which somehow took this as a signal to resume shopping. “I’m busy.”

“You’re standing behind a counter.”

“To sell things! I have to make a living.”

“Is that all that’s keeping you?” At last you turned your head toward Tony. The glare you leveled at him did absolutely nothing. He appeared more serious than usual, but that didn’t mean much. Without waiting for you to answer with a definite no, he spun around and clapped until the rest of the customers fell quiet and still again. “Hey! Store is closed. Everybody needs to leave.”

“Wha–No!” you shouted. “The store doesn’t close until five!”

Everyone in the building seemed transfixed. A few eyes shifted from you to Tony, as if unsure of which person to listen to.

“How can you stay open when you don’t have anything to sell?” You didn’t have time to demand what he meant by that. Tony made shooing motions toward the door and lifted his voice. “I just bought the entire place out. All those grapefruits? They’re mine. Everything is mine. The store is closed for the day. Yes, thank you! Have a nice evening!”

By the time he finished, all the people that didn’t work there had left. Tony flipped the sign on the door to closed while you, Mr. Banner, Preston, and Hailey watched, wide-eyed and mute. You couldn’t tell if the weight in your chest was from anger or from fear, but either way, you couldn’t run off with Preston in your way. All you could do was scowl as Tony neared again.

“What?” he asked once he reached you. “I just did you a massive favor. Nana wants my support, right? Well, that was pretty supportive. Shouldn’t that help you, too?”

“I don’t want your help. You’ve done enough damage,” you said.

“I know.” You just shook your head, pushed Preston out of your way, and made for the back storage area. Like always, though, Tony couldn’t let it go. You didn’t hear him chasing after you, but he spoke again before you left the room. “And I’m sorry.”

That caught you off guard. After a moment’s hesitation, you spun to face him again. “What?”

He remained right where you had left him and made no attempt to close the distance. After a moment of silence, Tony sighed. “I’m sorry,” he said again. “I screwed everything up. That’s why I’m here.”

The apology definitely threw you off, but you weren’t in the mood to be reasonable. Scared and tired were not a good combination, especially when Tony Stark was thrown into the mix. You bristled. “What makes you think I want an apology? Especially since you’re still screwing things up. My grandma is going to kill me when I get home and she finds out the store got closed because you wanted everyone gone!”

“What, do you think I was lying about buying all this stuff?”

Tony closed the distance between himself and you sedately–so sedately that you had half a mind to just race past him and out into the street. But something about Tony Stark, the Tony Stark, apologizing had you riveted to the spot. You found yourself incapable of moving, even as he reached you and held out a folded check. When you made no move to take it from him, Tony’s eyes flicked between the check and your eyes.

“It’s blank,“ he said. "Fill it out for whatever all of the stuff in here is worth.”

Of the many, many things you did not want to do that at moment, taking money from Tony Stark was pretty high on the list. You looked up and about yourself to see Preston, Mr. Banner, and Hailey all watching nervously from various points in the store. Already you had made enough of a scene. Arguing about payment would only make more of one and get you in trouble with Nana once she found out. You looked away as you snatched the paper from between Tony’s fingers. The quivering of your muscles made it difficult to concentrate enough to speak, but you managed nonetheless.

“Why?”

“Like I said, I just want to talk.”

“Why don’t you just tell my grandmother I did something awful and make me talk to you again?”

“Because this isn’t a game anymore.” At these words, you looked up. For once, Tony looked absolutely serious. His thumb drummed on the fabric outside his pocket for a moment before he took a last step closer to you. As if suddenly aware that several other employees (and family friends) were watching the exchange, he lowered his voice to say,

“Bruce is leaving.”

It felt as though a fist connected with your stomach, but you couldn’t exactly put your finger on why. “So?” you asked stonily.

“So do something. Please.”

“What do you expect me to do about it?”

“Talk to him.”

“Why should I?”

“Because he won’t listen to me.”

“Maybe you should have thought about that before you decided to set us up!” You crumpled the check into your fist and took a deep breath. No losing your head. “Was it just some kind of sick joke, you deciding to make me go out with the man that killed my grandfather?”

“Bruce didn’t kill him.”

You crossed your arms over your chest and lifted your eyebrows. For once, that seemed to intimidate Tony, since he took a step back and lifted his hands, palms toward you, to his shoulders.

“I have seen the tapes, Mr. Stark,” you said coldly. “I know what I saw.”

“I’m not saying you or your grandmother or any of those people they interviewed are wrong!” said Tony, and his voice returned to its normal volume, onlookers be damned. “But you don’t understand–”

“No. I don’t. And I don’t want to.”

Tony inhaled sharply. Maybe it was all the years of being CEO of his company, but it was pretty clear that he wasn’t used to taking that kind of lip from people, unless, perhaps, they were Pepper. Still, he kept his voice level and calm, and even almost pleading when he spoke again.

“I didn’t know about your grandfather when I set you two up. Bruce didn’t know about your grandfather when I set you two up. Even not knowing, he didn’t want to go out with you because he was afraid of this happening. He kept telling me no. The only reason he kept showing up for dates was because I forced him to. And then I found out and I didn’t tell him because I knew it would hurt him and I let things get too far. This is all…” He gave a hard swallow, but didn’t break eye contact. “This is all my fault.”

“That doesn’t get my grandmother off my back,” you retorted. “It doesn’t get me back to Washington, either. And it sure as hell doesn’t bring my grandfather back to life!”

“But it can give Bruce a life!” Tony shouted. You felt a blush climbing up your neck, but you could hardly bring yourself to care about the rest of the people in the room. If having an argument with Tony Stark was the only way to get him to leave, then so be it. “You’re the first person outside of the team that I’ve seen Bruce actually connect with. And like. He doesn’t allow himself to get close to people because this is what always happens. And maybe he’ll leave even if you talk to him, but I can guarantee that if you don’t he’ll never forgive himself for what he did and it will haunt him for the rest of his life.”

“So just because you bought out the store and because a murderer will feel bad for killing someone, I need to go forgive him?”

“Bruce isn’t a murderer!” Tony snapped, and you saw a flash of anger in his eyes that had you taken aback. “All I know is…my best friend is leaving. And it’s because of something I did. I’m not saying that you have to stay in a relationship with him or ever speak to him again, but please, [Name], I am begging you: Don’t make him leave.”

“Because I want to let him stay here so he can kill more people.” You whirled back around and marched toward the back exit. “Our talk is finished. Goodbye, Mr. Stark.”

“He’s not going to hurt anyone else!” Tony shouted after you. You paused again, though you didn’t turn around that time. “Something that Bruce doesn’t see about himself is that even when he’s angry, even when he’s the Hulk, he doesn’t hurt people he cares about! Not me, not Pepper, not you! Frank [L Name]’s death was tragic, and Bruce is going to feel bad about it whether or not someone forgives him for it��but he isn’t going to hurt anyone unless they’re hurting someone else!”

Ice flooded your veins as a steady stream of images flowed into your mind: You racing down the hallways of Stark Towers; Bruce apologizing before he turned suddenly green; Bruce grabbing the suit nearest you and tearing it to shreds; Bruce not doing anything to prevent you from smacking him with that stool; Bruce gently preventing you from slapping him. Bruce telling SHIELD to let you go, even though he knew you hated him.

The sudden lump in your throat prevented you from replying. You didn’t want to hear anymore. You didn’t want to talk anymore. You grabbed the back door’s handle, wrenched it open, and threw yourself outside and onto the cement steps.

No one came after you. A few other nearby store owners passed you to throw garbage out, but either you were invisible or they simply didn’t care that you were crying. You rubbed your wrists against your eyes, but that did nothing to stem your tears. After a few minutes, you decided to just give in and sat there, sobbing.

“Sh–Shit.”

Why was Bruce still even in Manhattan? Didn’t he want to get out of there? A part of you wanted desperately to think that he’d asked Tony to come talk to you, but unfortunately, even that part of you knew Bruce by then. If he found out about Tony’s visit, he’d probably be extremely upset.

Upset enough to Hulk out.

You scowled and drew your knees into your face. That reminder was enough to get you to stop crying. Anger didn’t exactly replace your sadness, though. Mostly you just felt hollow. You wondered momentarily if you should go back inside, but the thought of facing Hailey or Preston or Mr. Banner was abhorrent, and besides that, Tony might have still be there.

About five minutes later, the door behind you opened with a shriek of rust. You stiffened and hastily wiped the remains of tears off your cheeks. “Go away, Tony! I don’t want to talk about this anymore.”

“That’s no way to talk to the person that interrupted their work to come check on you.”

It was Mr. Banner. He frowned down at you for nearly half a minute, then settled down on the steps beside you. You had nothing to say to him, and so you didn’t, but Mr. Banner didn’t wait around for you to get the conversation going.

“So you broke up with Dr. Banner.”

“I don’t want to talk to you either,” you answered. “You’re with those SHIELD people and whatever I say will get back to them. I’ll get rounded up again. I’m done with that shit. Just go back inside and finish getting Mr. Stark’s groceries ready.”

“Excuse you.” The familiar peevish tint returned to Mr. Banner’s voice in full. “If you’ll remember correctly, you are not supposed to be here. Meanwhile, I am, since Doris asked me to run things for a bit. So I’m the boss now, and you will listen to me. We need to talk.”

“I said–”

“Funnily enough, I’m not deaf. I just don’t give a damn what you said. I am not ‘with those SHIELD people.’ I was, but I am not anymore. And for once you need to shut that smart trap of yours because what I have to say is important.”

It obviously wasn’t worth the effort it would take you to get out of the conversation. You glowered at Mr. Banner in silence. He waited for several long minutes before deciding that you were doing as he said and speaking again:

“You need to be nicer to Dr. Banner.”

“What?”

“I told you to shut up once. I’m not doing it again,” said Mr. Banner. “Mr. Stark is right about him. He deserves to be treated better by the entire country, if you ask me. And if you liked him as much as you looked like you did when he was in and out all the time, then he definitely deserves better from you.”

“Why? No one has told me anything except that he’s some big hero, and heroes don’t kill people.”

“Do you think he likes doing that?” Mr. Banner demanded. You didn’t answer. “You said earlier that you couldn’t trust me because I was in SHIELD. Fine. I’ll tell you why I was in SHIELD. I worked underneath Dr. Banner before he obtained his abilities. The military hired him to make more soldiers like Captain America, and the soft-hearted fool decided to try the process out on himself before shipping it out. If he hadn’t done that, we’d have hundreds of Hulks running about the country. But does anyone care? No! The government has a shoot to kill order out on him, and the public treats him like a bomb three seconds from detonating. Dr. Banner hasn’t done a damn thing to deserve that, but he keeps coming back to help–that’s what makes him a hero.”

“So you got discharged from both organizations for helping create that thing.”

“No! I got discharged from the military because I was never really a part of it. I got discharged from SHIELD for destroying the records of where Dr. Banner went. They wanted him in a cage, too, once upon a time, and no one was particularly pleased that I helped him escape.”

“If he had been in a cage, he couldn’t have killed those people during the attack!”

“You’re telling me that Tony Stark hasn’t killed a few people with that armor of his? That all of those casualties he caused before that change of heart don’t count? Are you telling me that Captain American didn’t cause a few casualties back in World War II? It’s war, [Name]. People die, and it’s sad. But it’s also unavoidable.”

“Then tell me how I’m supposed to go back and tell him I forgive him. He’s just going to attack people again. I can’t just–stay with him, knowing he killed Papa.”

Mr. Banner did not reply immediately. He just watched you. The sounds of honking cars and cooing pigeons filled the air. Then, his gaze softened considerably. He placed his hand on your shoulder and gave it a gentle squeeze.

“Your grandmother already lets Frank’s death control her life. Don’t you make the same mistakes. Make your own.”

What that meant, you hadn’t the faintest idea. Mr. Banner gave you no time to ask or work it out. As soon as the words were out of his mouth, he stood with a clap and made for the door.

“Go on back to the apartment, [Name]. Sulk off the clock,” he said.

He disappeared. You stared dully after him and weren’t sure how long it was before you got to your feet and began to trudge home. You were so distracted by what Mr. Banner said that you didn’t have much wherewithal to worry about Nana’s reaction to you coming home. At least the luggage problem was already solved, since your suitcase was still back in the store.

By the time you got home, dread gnawed at your stomach. There were so many things to dread, though, that you didn’t bother trying to work out exactly what was wrong. You just pushed the door open and stepped inside, wondering if you could take a nap before you finally left the city. The lecture you expected from Nana would probably prevent that, but a woman could dream.

“[Name]!”

You looked away from your shoes and up to see Nana sitting at the end of the hallway. Your hand seized around the knob you had not yet released, and the pounding in your chest screamed “Run! Run away!” On top of everything else happening, you didn’t need another shouting match with your grandmother. But before you could even turn around, she came to a stop in front of you and clutched your hands.

“You’re all right!”

“Nana, not right–Wait.” You blinked. Her eyes were full of tears, but one of her hands was petting the top of one of yours. “What?”

“You’re okay!” Her voice broke, leaving you even more bewildered than before. Unthinkingly, you allowed her to pull you down the hallway and into the kitchen. Once you arrived, she didn’t let you go; you sat with her holding your hand, watching her lips tremble. “I thought you weren’t ever going to come home. Those men took you away and Mr. Banner was so worried!”

“I–but–” The days you were having were not exactly helping you think straight. You screwed up your eyes before continuing, “You don’t think they arrested me because I’m a criminal?”

“No! Of course not. They clearly didn’t have any reason to take you, and Mr. Banner was telling me that you might not come home! I thought–I thought they were going to take you somewhere and I’d never see you again.”

“But…” Your hand curled in her grasp and you distinctly heard a sniffle. “Nana, you said you didn’t want to see me ever again.”

“I know. And I’m sorry. [Name], I–I haven’t been treating you right. It killed me to think that I might never get to apologize to you.”

“Apologize for what?”

For a moment, the kitchen fell silent. The only sound came from a clock on the wall by the table. But the pause was not, as you first thought, Nana trying to think of something that didn’t really deserve an apology. No, she had to stop as several sobs wracked her frail body. In response, you flipped your hand over and squeezed hers. That seemed to give her enough strength to carry on.

“I was awful to you about everyone dying. It wasn’t your fault. I just–I just saw everyone being sad for you losing your parents, and no one seemed to care that I lost a son and a daughter-in-law. And then your grandfather died, and that wasn’t your fault. It wasn’t his fault that he sent you that money either. If I hadn’t chased you off, he wouldn’t have had to.”

“Nana,” you said, and felt a fresh surge of tears. Your chest untwisted, too, and the venom you’d been spraying for so many months seemed to surge out with your crying. Maybe all you had wanted was her to notice and to say something, because you continued quite sincerely, “You don’t have to…”

“Yes,” she said firmly, and smiled, though she, too, was crying. “I do. You came all the way out here to take care of an old woman that treated you terribly, and I never said thank you. I just kept asking for more. I was scared of you leaving again, and I was scared that the last testament of my marriage to Frank, the store, was going to get shut down. I didn’t let you live.”

“I was scared, too, Nana,” you said after another pause. “I was scared of getting stuck here, and that you didn’t love me.”

“I’ve always loved you, [Name]. I just was too busy mourning to let you know.”

Though both of you were still sobbing and snorting, you bent and hugged her. Nana reached one trembling arm up and patted your back.

“I’ve let Frank’s death ruin so many things. Please come home, [Name]. I promise that we’ll do better. I won’t comment on your friendships or your dating, and we’ll work out something with the store. Bill says that you can’t be expected to do it all, and–and he’s right. I’ve made so many mistakes. Please let me correct them.”

And then it hit you: what everyone was trying to say about Bruce. No, not even. What everyone was trying to say about you. You’d fallen in love with a man that made you smile and that let you cry, but because of one thing that, really, he had nothing to do with, you were going to make him suffer. You stood straight up so suddenly that it startled away Nana’s crying.

”[Name]?”

“Nana, I’ve got to go.” Without waiting for a response, you rocketed back into the hallway and toward the door. Nana barreled after you, despite the difficulty of maneuvering around the corner in her wheelchair. She looked so horror struck that you had to make yourself stop before you ran out. “I’ll be back,” you said. “I promise.”

Then you were outside and running faster that you ever had in your entire life. Pedestrians screamed insults after you for pushing them aside, but you didn’t care. You could barely hear over the sound of the wind in your ears and the tirade you were giving yourself in your head anyway. If Bruce left, you’d never be able to find him again. Even if Tony knew where he was, he wouldn’t tell you. And then you’d never get to apologize for all the stupid, horrible, cruel things you had done in the past few days.

Running the distance between your apartment and Stark Tower for the second time in two days wasn’t easy. You didn’t have time to admire the streets or the bay as you rushed past. You didn’t think for a minute about how nice it was to be out and about instead of trapped inside somewhere. You just rushed as fast as you could until you got to the street Stark Tower was situated on–only to see one of Tony’s cars trundling away from the curb.

“Hey!” you shouted from twenty feet away. “Stop!”

Your lungs burned as you forced yourself to go faster, forced your arms into the air so you could wave. You knew that Bruce probably wouldn’t stop the car; you wouldn’t have if the situation had been reversed, and you’d done about the same to him at SHIELD headquarters the day before. But you couldn’t get yourself to give up. You pelted down the sidewalk at such a speed that most of the people milling about dove to get out of your way instead of waiting around to get shoved. You made it just in time to screech to a halt next to the black-tinted back windows of the vehicle.

“Hey!” you screamed. You could go no further. The air remaining in your lungs felt as though it were made of fire. For a long, terrifying moment, the engine continued purring as though the car was going to dive into the nearby traffic at any moment. Then it stopped. You held your breath and a second or so later, the car door opened and out popped Bruce. You could have collapsed with relief.

“[Name]?” he asked incredulously as he stepped out onto the sidewalk next to you. “What are you–Why are you here?”

Doubled over panting as you were, it was difficult to see Bruce’s expression. You were not, however, in the position to ask him to wait for you to catch your breath. He quite obviously wanted out of there quickly. To keep him from leaving, you grabbed his shoulders while you continued gasping for air. Bruce stiffened but did not otherwise attempt to extricate himself. He only waited politely until you were able to look up at him normally.

When you did, he didn’t exactly look pleased to see you. You yourself hadn’t the faintest idea of where to begin. The awkward silence grew until Bruce pursed his lips together and then asked:

“Why?”

“Why…what?”

“Why are you touching me?” he said with a slow look at both of your fists wrapped around the fabric of his shirt. “When you know–when you know…”

You winced, but took your hands off of Bruce. “Should I stop?” you asked. “Tony says…Tony says you don’t hurt people on purpose.

“That depends on your definition of 'on purpose.'”

Of course, Bruce was going to be difficult. You scowled and crossed your arms over your chest. “Do you like hurting people?”

“No. Of course not. I–” He glanced at the handle of the car door; you tensed waiting for him to throw himself back in and get Happy to drive him away. Much to your surprise, Bruce looked back at you instead. “I’m sorry about your grandfather. I didn’t mean to kill him, or hurt you, or your grandmother. And I shouldn’t have–”

“Stop apologizing!” Bruce’s lips scrunched up. He looked almost humorously confused. You took another great, shuddering gasp of air before speaking again. “I am the one that should be apologizing. I shouldn’t have tried to–to hurt you with that stool. Or anything at all. I didn’t know. I didn’t know that you could control it or that it was you! I didn’t know that you and my grandpa…”

“I didn’t know either,” Bruce said. After a moment of hesitation he added, “Don’t worry about the stool. It–It happens. I deserve it.”

“No, you don’t!”

“I’ve hurt people.”

“When? Have you hurt anyone since that attack a year ago?”

“It was going to happen eventually. To you or Tony or Pepper.”

“If you thought that,” you said quietly, “why were you even sticking around to begin with?”

Your sudden calm seemed to calm Bruce, too. He looked at his hands, then said, “I wanted to be here. I wanted the roof over my head, and I wanted to be friends with Tony and Pepper.” He took a deep breath to continue, but stopped to bite his lip. “I wanted you.”

“You meant it, then? That you loved me?”

Bruce gave a slow nod, and your heart picked up pace. You weren’t sure why. That had been two days ago and you’d been awful ever since. After all, just the day before you had told him you had loved and didn’t anymore.

“But I would have hurt you anyway. Eventually. Somehow. You’d break because you’re breakable and I’m not. Not even when I want to be.”

“But…you didn’t hurt me. Not even when I tried to hurt you.”

“Tony has this theory that the Hulk–that I don’t hurt people I care about even when I’m angry.”

“You care about me?” You saw Bruce’s chest lift as he took an enormous breath. He nodded. You pressed a hand to your mouth, then whispered, “I’m the monster here. Bruce–you should stay. I’ll work something out with Nana and leave. I don’t want you to leave your friends.”

“No, I need to leave. Manhattan is too populated, and I don’t want you to be worried about me Hulking out.”

“But you’re not going to! Not unless someone needs you to.”

“But your grandmother needs you.”

“Tony wants you to stay.”

“Tony wants a lot of things. I’ve completely ruined your life, so I’ll get out of it.”

“Bruce!” you snapped, and thought you might have seen an almost smile. “If it wasn’t for you, I wouldn’t be here, and I was really mad about that. But–But Nana and I made up, or at least we’re trying to! And we wouldn’t have if I hadn’t come back! And Mr. Banner is an ass, but he cares about me. I wouldn’t have anything if you hadn’t–done what you did.”

“Are you actually saying thank you for me killing someone in your family?”

“No! I just–you deserve better. And I have done nothing but horrible things.”

“[Name], I can’t ask you to let me stay here.”

The sounds of the people touring Stark Tower reached their zenith as you stared at Bruce and he stared back. Several times, his eyes flicked back toward the car. With him so close, though, you couldn’t bear to let him just drive off. “Why don’t we both stay then?” you said desperately, and blushed at the stupidity of the suggestion. Still, once it was out there, you had to finish it. “And try again?”

A very slow smile spread across Bruce’s face. “I don’t know if my skull could handle that.”

Even though Bruce was joking, you felt a flare of guilt at that. You scuffed a toe across the sidewalk and then took a step closer to him. “What if I promise not to try bludgeoning you to death ever again? I’ll work on handling my temper.”

It took Bruce too long to respond. He wet his lips and looked up at the sky and fiddled with his hands. At long last, however, he nodded. “I could help with that.”

“Really?” you asked.

Bruce nodded. “Really.”

“Thank you!” And you closed the remaining gap and wrapped your arms around Bruce. Not even a second later, he returned the hug. You broke away with a sniffle and said, “I’m really sorry about all the horrible things I said and did. I know you probably don’t want to date anymore, but–”

Bruce silenced you by pressing his lips to your forehead. “Let’s both just agree we did some things we regret and move on. I think we both need to learn to do that. Deal?”

As Bruce took your hand and looked down at you, you smiled. “Deal.”

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darkellaine · 4 years ago

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On Loki series

I don't usually write here anything as this is mostly my art blog but I do want to say a few words. If you like the series, you may skip this post bc I appreciate it when people enjoy things as they are and I do not want to inpose my take on the series on anyone.

To the matter.

Now, after the 5th episode has come out, I find myself saddened and baffled at the same moment. Maybe I was victimized by my own great expectations from the show or my headganons grew in my head like a tumours - so big and engrossing that there was no space left to be filled with what seems to be a fresh perspective.

I don't see Loki anymore. He was still there in the first episode yet the more we ventured into the new territory the harder was it to me to understand why he acts like this (sabotages everything he does, has no agenda and is a follower - of Mobius at first and then of Sylvie). Initially I thought his reckless behavior was either a plan of his or just the recercussions of the exposure to his destiny he saw at TVA. Now, after seeing 4th and 5th episodes I see that the show doesn't actually need any explanation to turn Loki into a type person who he himself criticized throughout all the MCU movies. And that is a character who rushes headfast into the fight, who doesn't think, doesn't plot, has a careless attitude. Like Thor. And now Sylvie is smth similar to what Loki was to Thor, except Loki doesn't really have any of the strenghts of the traditional lead hero.

He was shown casually using telekinesis like it was nothing but it didn't move the plot. On the contrary, it created more questions and possibly plotholes for audience that ectually expects some kind of consistency from the narrative. In really needed situations he doesn't do anything similar and I don't see what Tom was so excited about. This showcase was just like his shirtless scene, a superficial fanservice. (Not that we aren't allowed, we certainly do. Yet if you a fan of a character, you can't really escape taking a deeper look into everything.)

His Jotun heritage and abilities. I can't believe ep. 5 missed any opportunity to show a Jotun Loki. It was such a great opportunity to set up a dialogue between them, to point to Loki's inner hate and insecurities he might have. Yet what we got just a bunch of bizzare lokis from some crack fanfiction. I see they were aiming for the humour and lighter tone but maybe they shouldn't have? Not after the first episode and the setting they established. I wonder could it be the result of different scriptwriters thet were forced to attune but still didn't manage to do so.

Loki's bisexuality looks more like a distraction than actual representation. Yes, I know that bi people could be both with men and women, etc. but so far it was again like Joe Russo's gay character in the Endgame. Irrelevant bait everyone took that didn't actually affect the show or plot . Wasn't it for the hype, Ig most of writers would exclude this from the plotline at all as it is just extra.

Self-love plotline. I suppose that Sylvie and Loki love story was supposed to address self-acceptance and self-forgiveness? Well it doesn't work like this. Those two are absolutely different characters. They share only part of the outfit, some abilities and a few memories of Asgard - that's it. I don't feel like they are different versions of the same person. This dynamic would've worked with old!Loki by Richard Grant as he indeed has some things to teach our Loki and to strip him of his defences in order to reveal what in fact prevents Loki from outgrowing himself.

My general impression is that Loki is becoming to be tiring to watch. Idk how did they make it but I now find him quite bland and uninteresting at this point. I don't know who is behind the TVA but without the possiblity that it was old Loki pulling the strings all along I don't really see the further development for him. Looks like everything we got in relation to his identity and past was indeed just the first episode. All of a sudden Loki looks at peace and unperturbed, ready to abandon all his strivings and inferiorities he has been developing through his entire life. While the authors kept underlining the fact that it is 2012!Loki and he is still a villain.

But it was just a few days for Loki, and he says so himself...

The series still good a few good things, though.

Personally, I really enjoyed the second episode as it showcased Loki's intelligence, had nice, witty dialogues, Loki and Mobius chemistry and tempo.

Music is excellent throughout all the show. I daresay music is even more spirited sometimes. I look forward to the sixth episode to finally see what it was all about...

#loki series #loki spoilers #loki series negativity #mcu #dianey+#disappointed but not surprised

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liunaticfringe · 4 years ago

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(via Lucy Liu's Independent Woman - Interview Magazine)

There have been many great sidekick pairings in the history of modern literature. Huckleberry Finn and Tom Sawyer, Phileas Fogg and Jean Passepartout, Winnie-the-Pooh and Piglet…the list goes on. Yet, it seems there has never been a delightfully tumultuous relationship that comes close to echoing the one embodied by rogue detective Sherlock Holmes and his faithful friend and assistant Dr. John Watson. Written in the form of short stories by Arthur Conan Doyle between the late 19th and early 20th centuries, the opium-den loving Holmes would terrorize London with his intellectual, astute, and stubborn prowess, with Dr. Watson providing medical expertise and chronicling their entertaining exploits along the way.

Doyle’s works have now long been entered into the public domain, with many film and television adaptions cropping up every few years. Still, when CBS announced in 2012 that it would be turning Doyle’s works into an hour-long crime-drama series titled Elementary, it elicited an unusually high response—this was mostly due to the news that a woman would, in fact, be portraying Watson. Her name would be Joan, not John. And she’s now a fallen from grace surgeon-turned-sober companion and private detective, forfeiting her “Dr.” title in the process. The woman chosen to take on this exciting, contemporary role of Joan Watson was none other than seasoned actress Lucy Liu.

Liu, who’s best known for her roles as a fierce and ill-mannered lawyer in Ally McBeal, an ass-kicking “angel” in the rebooted Charlie’s Angels, and an equally ass-kicking bad girl in the Kill Bill series, certainly provides the yin to the yang of Jonny Lee Miller’s gritty portrayal of Holmes. Elementary chronicles the duo’s relationship as they consult for the NYPD on various criminal cases while living in a shared brownstone in Brooklyn Heights. Initially starting off in Season One as a substance-free friend to the fresh-out-of-rehab Holmes with a keen interest in solving crimes, Watson quickly transformed into a sharp and observant right-hand woman who now clearly has the aptitude to work on her own. And it appears she’ll be doing just that—the end of Season Two left viewers witnessing Watson’s decision to move out of the brownstone and start a new career as a solo private detective, seemingly fed-up with Holmes’ erratic behavior.

The warm and delightful Liu recently called up Interview from her home in New York City to discuss Elementary’s upcoming third season.

DEVON IVIE: Were you on set today?

LUCY LIU: I was running around like a maniac, yeah. It’s beautiful today, it started getting a little bit cooler again. But of course I’ve been bitten by the two mosquitos that are still alive in New York City.

IVIE: I know you were recently at New York Comic Con. How was it?

LIU: It was amazing. It’s such a spectator place. Not only do you get super fans, but you also get people who are curious and inventive and imaginative. It’s fun.

IVIE: Did you run into any cosplayers dressed as Joan Watson?

LIU: Oh, no, I don’t know about that. That’s funny! We did a panel with a huge audience so I couldn’t really see if anyone was wearing anything specific, but it’s an excuse for kids and adults to get dressed up and just be crazy. You know you’ve made it when you have super-fans out there.

IVIE: When you first read the scripts for Elementary, what was it that attracted you to the role of Joan?

LIU: I liked the fact that it was going to be about [Joan and Sherlock’s] relationship and their friendship, and bringing that into modern times. And I thought it was wonderful to change up the gender.

IVIE: Did you immerse yourself in Arthur Conan Doyle’s work as preparation at all?

LIU: I did, I did! I started reading the short stories. I never read them before so it was a really great excuse to read them. I can’t believe it was written so long ago, because it’s so current. The characters are so colorful, which is why I think there are so many incarnations of Watson and Holmes.

IVIE: Do you have a favorite story? I love “A Scandal in Bohemia.”

LIU: There were some pretty amazing stories. The one that stood out to me, which was a Watson story that I got to know him a little more through, was “The Hound of the Baskervilles.” He really is on his own in that. Of course it turns out that Holmes has been there all along, but it’s interesting looking into his interior.

IVIE: Yeah, the entirety of “The Hound of the Baskervilles” is narrated just by Watson. And his diary and letters, too.

LIU: Yeah, I think it’s really cool. We started incorporating that into the show, too, the letters and journals.

IVIE: Has this detective genre always appealed to you? Did you grow up watching or reading detective whodunits?

LIU: I remember more of the old school Nancy Drew and Hardy Boys sort of thing. I also grew up with the Scooby-Doo mysteries. Remember when the villain would go, “I would’ve gotten away with it if it weren’t for you rascal-y kids!” Those were the kind of the things I immersed myself in. I have to say that my mother has always been a huge fan of Columbo and Murder, She Wrote, so this show was her dream come true. I don’t think she totally understood what was going on with Ally McBeal. [laughs]

IVIE: I’ve enjoyed witnessing Joan’s evolution throughout the course of the show, starting off as a sober companion and eventually ending up as a trusty sidekick and confidant to Sherlock. What can we expect from Joan in Season Three?

LIU: When you see them in the third season, you see some friction between the two characters. Joan is now on her own, she has her own detective agency, has a boyfriend, and has been without Sherlock for eight months. She’s got her own apartment, she’s settled, and he shows back up. I think she’s a little bit hurt by what happened and how their relationship and partnership ended, which was basically his decision and his choice, and he left it all in one little note for her. I think she felt that their relationship was much deeper than that, and that he was dismissive in the way that he handled that.

IVIE: How would you define the relationship between Joan and Sherlock?

LIU: I think that it’s a really positive and good relationship, overall. They really have a good chemistry together, work really hard together, and understand each other. They acknowledge each other and respect each other, which is a really important way to have a friendship. And they can learn from each other, you know? She’s very curious about him and I think he sees that she’s a very smart person—that’s vital for him in having respect for someone, having them be intelligent and thinking for themselves.

IVIE: Do you see any of Joan in yourself?

LIU: I do to a certain degree. She’s a lot more measured and patient, for sure. She’s a very curious person, which I think I am, and I think she isn’t afraid of change. She was a doctor, and then became a sober companion, and then jumped off and became a detective. I think sometimes it’s good to make big leaps.

IVIE: You’ve probably been asked this question many times, but do you think a romance between Joan and Sherlock could ever fittingly happen?

LIU: It’s a question that’s often asked and I think it’s really up to the executives. Rob Doherty, the creator [of Elementary] really feels incredibly strongly about keeping their relationship platonic. He has already taken great strides to keep the relationship as clean as possible according to the literature, but he has also changed so much of it by changing the gender of Watson. To have them have a romantic involvement would turn the whole thing upside-down in a way that might really jump the line. [Doherty] felt really strongly about it and I think that’s the one thing he really wants to stay true to.

IVIE: I totally agree. Even on the BBC’s Sherlock, there are campaigns to get Benedict Cumberbatch’s Sherlock and Martin Freeman’s Watson to become romantically involved. It’s like, enough already, no!

LIU: No way, that’s so weird! People do have that level of friendship oftentimes, but it doesn’t mean it’s physical. I think that everyone just assumes because there’s chemistry the next thing should be happening. I would vote “no” for a romance. I think for sure the creator would vote no on that, too.

IVIE: I’ve talked to both women and men who watch Elementary, and they all consistently mention how well dressed and fashionable Joan is. Do you collaborate with the wardrobe department on styling decisions at all?

LIU: That’s awesome. Yes, I collaborate with Rebecca [Hofherr], who’s the costume designer, who’s wonderful. She’s very easy to work with. One thing we try to maintain about Joan and her style is that she’s a bit wrinkled, you know what I mean? Sometimes it looks like things are really put together, but we always want to make sure things aren’t too tight and are comfortable, kind of like she throws things together. We don’t want it to seem so business-y, so we go away from suits. Chic, but not corporate. Also just to make her seem like her outfits aren’t so put-together all the time. But I’m glad that people really seem to like it, it’s a relief! We don’t splurge a lot on the show, we try to do cheaper things, like things Joan would wear a lot. She wears the same white jacket and shoes frequently.

IVIE: Will we be seeing more of the infamous Clyde the Turtle in the upcoming season?

LIU: Clyde will indeed be in it again. We have to share custody of Clyde.

IVIE: Is it true that Clyde is actually two tortoises? Pulling a Mary Kate and Ashley in Full House on us?

LIU: Yes. It’s just like having twins on a show. Just in case one is crying and screaming and passed out or something.

IVIE: You made your directorial debut for an episode of Elementary last season [“Paint It Black”]. Do you have plans to direct an episode again soon?

LIU: That was so exciting. I’ll be directing another episode again very shortly in December, so you’ll be seeing it in a month and a half.

IVIE: Where did your interest in directing come from?

LIU: I guess I was curious about it. Having been in this business for a while, you kind of see and get a glimpse of everything doing film and television. I think it seemed like a natural progression to go into directing, and I hope to explore more of it, because it’s very exciting and a really good way to collide all the things that you’ve known and experienced in the business and put them all into one.

IVIE: Is there an ideal guest star that you’d like to see on the show in the upcoming season?

LIU: I would love to see Mycroft come back. I really think there was a wonderful tension for Mycroft and Sherlock as well as the triangle that occurred when Joan became involved with him. There’s something very deep about that relationship, and I also think that Rhys Ifans is a fantastic actor. He commands the screen, but off-screen he’s incredibly lovely. A real treat to have on the show.

IVIE: I remember the first few episodes that I saw Rhys in, I was like, where have I seen this guy before? So I looked at his Wikipedia page and it became obvious: he was the crazy guy from Notting Hill!

LIU: Yes, the roommate! So good! Everything he does, he just kills it, no matter the role.

IVIE: And it’s always good to have some MI6 action on the show, which Mycroft provided. Some international flair.

LIU: [laughs] International flair, exactly, some added spice. Just throw some spy stuff in there to throw people off their game. You just don’t expect it, you know? It came out of nowhere.

IVIE: That whole three-episode arc at the end of the second season…

LIU: That was awesome. I was lucky enough to direct one of those episodes, which is more narrative in tone. It’s more fun in some ways, too.

IVIE: You’ve done a range of acting work for both television and film. Do you now find yourself preferring one to the other?

LIU: I love both of them equally. The lack of predictability with television is something that’s constantly changing what your perception of who you think your character is. Suddenly I have a father that’s schizophrenic, or I discovered something else, or I have a relationship with Mycroft. The things that pop up and change the game for you and always keep you on your toes. The wonderful thing about film is that you have something that has a beginning, middle, and end, and you have a concrete amount of time to shoot it. And the process of that can be longer, like editing and advertising and testing the movie, so it’s very different. Television you just continue going, no matter what’s happening outside of your world. You get lost in that vortex a little bit.

IVIE: It’s interesting that America is now embracing the “mini-series” format that has already been so heavily utilized overseas, where there are a set amount of short episodes, and that’s it. In a way, it’s kind of like a cinematic experience.

LIU: I like that, too. It allows you to have a freedom of creativity and at the same time you don’t feel like you have to be contracted to something for that long; you’re really working on a piece of art. And then you’re done and you move on, or it comes back, like Downton Abbey. You don’t know. Those things become little masterpieces. The thing about television is that you see a range of actors now that you may not have seen five years ago even, 10 years ago absolutely not, and I think now there’s no wrong about doing television. There’s no definitive category for what kind of department you fall into anymore.

IVIE: What’s a fun, secret fact about your costar Jonny Lee Miller?

LIU: A fun fact about Jonny Lee Miller is that he oftentimes does handstands on a wall before he does a take, sometimes with pushups, to get blood to his brain and get him geared up for a long monologue that he may have. He stays there, hangs a little bit, and then turns around and does the scene. Most of the time in the brownstone more than anywhere else. He’s in full costume and everything. That’s trivia!

IVIE: I wish I could do wall-handstands by myself.

LIU: Oh my god, I need someone to push my legs up and then hold me there. I’m a cheat!

ELEMENTARY PREMIERES THURSDAY, OCTOBER 30 ON CBS.

#Lucy Liu #Interview #2014 #comic con #jlm #mycroft #wardrobe #directing #third season #joanlock

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teamhappyme · 4 years ago

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a series of promising events (4/5)

aaron hotchner x female!reader

word count: 6.7k

a/n: happy new year!! we’ve made it to part 4! this part differs from the 3 previous ones, as it takes place all in one (and a half) days. But there are flashbacks, represented with italics. if anything is confusing with the timeline, or anything else is confusing you in general, please let me know! my brain is a weird place and does not connect the dots when i post for a public audience. i hope you guys enjoy this part, it was really fun for me to write!

get ready, let’s go friends!

here are the links to part 1, part 2, & part 3

****

October 2012

“Some people care too much. I think it’s called love.” - Winnie the Pooh

You’re known for your predictability. Yes, you’re overly kind, extremely perceptive, and a little bit of a literary genius. But those closest to you knew the predictability of your life.

You craved routine. You woke up at 5:30 every morning, had breakfast, watched the news, and caught up on some domestic things before heading into the office. You stopped at the same bagel cart every morning, an Asiago bagel with butter for you and a coffee for Spencer. Monday’s, you treated the whole team. You got to work at 7:12, second only to Hotch.

The team knew how you would react to every case. Missing or dead children would cause you to go silent, families being the target would choke you up, and anything including a scumbag with a signature kill made you nauseous.

So it was safe to say they were more than surprised to find out that you’d left for a month long european holiday, from an email, with Strauss cc'd on it. The team couldn’t remember the last time you went on vacation, because you hadn't gone further than two hours in one day.

In your travels through Europe, you stopped in countries that you’d only dreamt about visiting in your dreams. You saw Nyhavn, Denmark, the colorful canal right outside of Copenhagen. Hopped through Warsaw and Gdansk in Poland, before being silenced by your tour of Auschwitz. Next was France, the country you always said you would flee to once you aged out of the system. Besides hitting all the touristy attractions in Paris, you traveled through the alps, and made sure you stopped to see Giverny, the little village that inspired Claude Monet and his water lily paintings. The last true destination was Spain, jumping at the chance to flex your spanish minor muscles. You roamed Barcelona and Madrid, feeling a little like the Cheetah Girls as you stood in front of La Sagrada Familia.

The more you travelled, the more you’d thought about quitting. Thought about sending your resignation to Strauss through an email, leave your desk full of the mementos and picture frames, and continue falling in love with the continent you’d never been to before.

But then you made your final stop in London, to the sister who you missed immensely, and lost the nerve entirely.

“You’ll regret leaving them for the rest of your life,” Emily said to you, and you wondered for a second if she was projecting her decisions onto you.

“They don’t deserve me.” You’d mumbled out, just loud enough for her to hear. “I can’t continue on like this.”

You’d given the team everything you had for seven and a half years. The job demanded personal sacrifices you never thought you’d be capable of, until you met the people who signed on for this before you. The people who shared the same commitment to helping others, the responsibility to improve the world around them before the one that housed them. It was the first time you felt at home in your quarter century existence.

But the work never seized. The jet began to feel more like home than your apartment, hotel beds provided more comfort than your own pillow covered mattress. And no matter how many people you saved, no amount of gratification from loved ones could quell the loneliness building back inside you.

So you listened to Emily, and came back to the states on your original return flight, October 23, 2012. You returned to the real world in less than seventy-two hours and promised Garcia you would brush up on the next case before debriefing on Monday morning.

You were betting on the fact that the team wasn’t lingering around the office, considering it was seven thirty on a friday night as you headed up in the elevator, fresh off your flight from the UK. The last thing you wanted was someone to corner you, when all you wanted to do was sleep off the lingering memories of your last night here.

The glass doors leading into the BAU gave you a view of the bullpen; empty. Opening the door, you walked over to your desk, quickly glancing around the other spaces to see if anything had changed. It hadn’t.

Grabbing the files Garcia left on your desk and your car keys from the drawer, you tidied up the space the tiniest bit. You made sure everything was squared off to your monitor, updating the days passed on your desk calendar. You wrote a reminder on a yellow sticky to thank Reid for watering your small desk plant and stuck it to the screen for Monday. Everything looked like it was in its place, until you saw a blue stress ball sitting on your chair. Your head whipped up to the office at the top of the stairs, but the lights were off and the door shut. He wasn’t here.

But you could feel the stare of his eyes from four weeks ago on you just the same.

You guys were working a local case in the District.

The unsub had murdered three men, each with one shot to the head execution style. There were no signs of torture, and all three men were found with their eyes closed and arms crossed over their torsos; signs of remorse.

It took the team thirty hours to stick the profile and find the woman responsible. Her name was Kathryn Downey, a forty two year old mother of three, with a law degree that hadn’t been used in fifteen years. After digging into the victims personal lives and her own, the motive and stressor became clear to everyone; her husband had cheated on her.

You found Kathryn with a gun pointed to her husband’s head, his hands and feet duct taped, and a strip around his mouth keeping him silent.

Her hands were shaking, and you knew from the second you saw her that she didn’t want to kill him. She was angry, and full of rage, but she wouldn’t be able to follow through with this.

As long as you use the right language.

“Kathryn, put the gun down, we’re with the FBI.” Hotch started in a calm voice, but she shook her head, hands shaking faster.

“No. I have to do this. He,” She took a breath, pushing the hair out of her face with her free hand. “He has to pay.”

You glanced at Aaron before taking a step closer, slowly lowering your weapon. She needed to feel safe, and she needed to feel like an equal.

“Kathryn, my name is y/n l/n. I’m with the Behavioral Analysis Unit from the FBI. I really want to help you through this situation, so I’m going to put my gun down, alright?” You slowly lowered the gun to the ground, kicking it back gently to Hotch.

“Now Kathryn, I know your children are here. I don’t want anything to happen to them, and I know you don’t either, so could you tell me where they are so we can help them?”

“In the basement, I locked them in the basement. I didn’t want them to,” She let the thought end, not wanting to manifest it into the universe. She didn’t want them to see their mother kill their father.

Hotch spoke gently into the comms, getting Morgan and Rossi down to the kids.

“Kathryn, I want to know why we’re here in this situation. I’ve read the file, I profiled you and your family, but I want to know your side of the story. Why are you holding a gun to your husbands head?”

Her eyes widened in the slightest, and you were sure it was from the empathy in your voice. But this was your specialty, and you were determined to talk this woman down.

“He cheated on me,” She whispered, and for a split second, you thought this was going to be easy. But then she pressed the gun harder into his head, and let out a low laugh. “After everything I’ve done for this family, for him, he just takes his pants off for another woman?”

You heard the safety click off, and Hotch’s own in return. Please do not end in a shootout.

“Kathryn, don’t look at him. Don’t think about him kneeling in front of you. Just focus on me. Tell me how you got to this moment right now.”

“How did I get to this moment? I got here by following around this sad excuse for a man for the last twenty years. Like a moth to a flame, I couldn’t escape this life of mine.” Her eyes started to water, and you internally sighed. You were getting somewhere. “I have a law degree, you know. Fifth in my class at Columbia, and I only used it for a year. And it was in sleazy corporate law. Because I got married, and I got pregnant, and Sean wanted someone to stay home with the kids.

“I went from the intelligent corporate attorney with her eyes set on the attorney general’s office, to a cliche housewife who spends her days cleaning and dotting on her husband and kids. I never wanted to be this woman,” She closed her eyes, letting the tears fall down her face freely. She looked so young in this vulnerable state, too young to have three children. Yet she looked so tired, and so defeated. “I gave up everything for this family. I gave up my career, friends, bucket list dreams, and a life that was waiting to be lived, for this man. I cater to his every need, I listen to him drone on about work, assure him when he’s feeling anxious, and give in when he needs a release. I am my children’s rock; when they need a shoulder to cry on I’m there in a second. They need help with their math homework, I’m the number one girl. But when it’s my turn to fall apart, when it’s my turn to be lifted up and supported, nobody is there for me. And he should be able to be there for me.”

If you hadn’t undergone intense training at Quantico, you would’ve been in tears by now. You empathized with this woman more than you should, and you were trying so desperately to help her out of this situation. So you continued to dig your fingernails into your palms, and spoke again.

“I know what you’re feeling, Kathryn.”

“You don’t know what I’m feeling!” Wrong move. She ripped the gun away from her husband and fixed the trigger on you. Hotch moved so that he was only one step behind you, trying to get her to lower the gun. “You have no idea what this is like!”

“I do, Kathryn. I promise you I do. I may not be a wife, or a mother, but I know what it’s like to give yourself completely to a person. I know what it’s like to hold onto the stress and fears of the people you love. I understand, because I’m this person too.

“People like you and me, we feel the need to be the emotional support for everyone we love. We never want to see them struggle, and we never want to see them in pain. So, we listen. We overcompensate to make them feel better, and we check in regularly to make sure they’re okay. Our happiness, as strange and sad as it may be, is directly linked to theirs. We can’t be happy unless they’re happy. But once they come out of their depression, once they thank us for being the light in their lives, they walk away, and take the happy rainbow with them. And they don’t leave any for us.” Tears continued to fall down her face, but you needed to go further. She was going to break if you kept going. “Kathryn, I was in your position not long ago. I remember what it feels like when you realize that the love you have for someone won’t be reciprocated. That after everything you’ve done for them, all the small moments that you succeeded in taking their grief away and bringing happiness back into their life, they still don’t appreciate you. And it’s heartbreaking.

“But I’m standing across from you today, on the other side of that pain, trying to tell you that it gets better. It doesn’t go away, but it gets a hell of a lot better, Kathryn. So please, do not let this one moment that you couldn’t take the pain away ruin all the times you did.”

You expected the tears. You expected an emotional end to this situation. You didn’t expect Kathryn Downey to drop her gun in the middle of the room, and collapse onto you. But that’s exactly what she did. And instead of letting go to untie her husband, instead of joining Hotch in cuffing her, you held her for a minute. You held her breaking heart in your hands, and tried your hardest to take away all her fears and pain for once in her life.

After a minute, you pulled away and grabbed a hold of her upper arm. She gave you a slight nod, knowing this is what was always going to happen. You led her down the stairs and into the back of a squad car, as Aaron helped the husband to his children once outside of the house.

You were leaning against the suburban that you came in, watching as the team debriefed with the local pd before being dismissed. But amongst the chaos, Hotch found your eyes, and gave you a knowing look. One that meant you were going to talk through the very personal negotiation you gave.

The team arrived back at the office just shy of ten o’clock, Penelope waiting for Derek at the elevator. He wrapped an arm around her shoulder as you led the gang into the bullpen, everyone dropping their go bags at their desks.

You lingered for a moment as Hotch made his way up to his office, knowing you’d be joining him in a few seconds. You grabbed your blue stress ball, complimentary from the C.A.L.M. department meeting, as through the curtains you could see him drop his bag before checking his phone for any messages from Jack.

“L/n,” Here it comes. “Can I talk to you in my office please?”

You and Spencer shared a look, and he gave you a comforting smile in return. You took the steps two at a time to his office, and shut the door behind you once you arrived. He was standing behind his desk, so you didn’t feel the need to sit yourself.

You waited for him to speak, since he was the one that called you in. It was a little childish, but you weren’t the one who wanted the discussion.

“I want to talk about the negotiation.”

“I thought it was pretty successful. I empathised, I got her to drop her weapon, and no one was injured in the process.”

“Y/n, you know that’s not what I meant.” He uncrossed his arms, letting out a sigh. The two of you were too exhausted to have this conversation, but that wasn’t going to stop Hotch from going on. “I told you that you could lean on me when it all became too much.”

“That was six years ago, Hotch.” Defensive, but not rude. A fine line. “And this wasn’t about work, this was personal. You’re not obligated to listen to our personal issues that take place outside the office.”

“And you are?” Stop spinning my words, Hotchner. “I know you, y/n. This isn’t just something that can be brushed back under the rug.” You scoffed. “You don’t know me.”

“Excuse me?”

“You don’t know me, Hotch. None of you do. You know my file. You know that I got a full ride to Bowdoin, that I was a social worker before transferring here, and that most of my life before eighteen was sealed away. I confided in you six years ago about my childhood and now you think you know me?”

“Why are you getting so defensive?”

“I’m not-” You paused, knowing that if you finished that statement it would, in fact, be defensive. “I’m just really tired and I don’t want to be having this conversation right now.”

“It’s not healthy for you to keep everything in while people spill their lives to you. And you know that.”

“Hotch,” You warned, your exhaustion quickly turning into rage.

“What, you really think I’m just going to drop this after hearing you confess to a serial killer that you have no joy in your life? And now you’re going to try and convince me that I don’t know anything about you? Bullshit, y/n. I know that you talk to your foster siblings every sunday to check in and make sure they’re all doing okay. I know that you volunteer with Garcia to help the families of victims cope with their loss. I know that you cling to Spencer like gum wherever you go to make him feel less insecure in a bar.”

“Stop it,”

“I know that your favorite color is purple, that you still write articles for CNN and The Times under a pseudonym. And I know, more than anything in the world, you want to be the mother that you never got to have.”

“Stop it!” You threw the blue ball into his builtins, hitting one of his stupid administrative awards in the process. He didn’t even flinch. “You don’t get to know me like that.”

“Why not?” You let out a low laugh as tears started to fill in your eyes. He was oblivious, and that's what made it hurt even more. You cracked your knuckles for a few seconds, waiting for him to connect the words you spoke at the Downey house and your frustration with him in this moment.

But his face softened, the wrinkles disappeared from his forehead, and you knew he figured it out. He didn’t need to say the words for you to know exactly what was going through his head. But he was with Beth, and you were not going to interfere. This wouldn’t change anything.

“It’s late, I should head home. I’ll get you my report before monday.”

You left his office without saying goodnight, and you tried to ignore the rest of your team huddled around Morgan’s desk, pretending not to be eavesdropping. But they totally were.

Instead you grabbed your bags, giving Spencer a reassuring smile as his gaze lingered on you for a second longer. You had no intentions of turning around to see Hotch’s face. But if you had, you would’ve seen the same heartbroken expression across his face, realizing he let you walk away.

You tore your eyes away from the office, not wanting to relive the memory any longer. You stashed the stress ball under your monitor before turning out the light, and making your way back to the elevator.

Once you were settled back in your apartment, you sent a text to Reid and JJ, letting them know you got in okay and that you’d see them at the office on Monday. After getting a thumbs up and a ‘glad you’re home’ in response, you turned in for the night, trying to dream of nights in Paris and Barcelona instead of at the BAU.

---

It was hard for you to get back in the routine of consulting and profiling. Garcia had left you copies of three cases the team was going to be working on when you returned, and you’d barely worked through the first one in two hours.

Three teenagers went missing from their small town in Idaho, and all were found in Seattle in the same week. Of course, your first case back included kids.

You resorted to calling Spencer when you really had no idea where to begin. You felt like a rookie all over again, asking for help when creating a geographical profile or running new negotiation tactics. But your best friend was quick to help, assuring you that once you got back to the office, you’d fall back into the routine.

“Did you have a good time?” He finally asked, albeit apprehensively. You didn’t leave on the best terms with anyone, and they all seemed to know what pushed you over the edge.

“I did. It’s amazing to know that there is a whole other world out there that we don’t even know about. It’s so different over there, Spence. It’s peaceful, and beautiful, and everything the place you call home should be.”

You could hear the intake of breath over the line. “Does that mean you’re moving to Spain?” A smile crossed your lips just thinking about Barcelona. But, it wasn’t home.

“This is my home, Spencer. I’m not leaving anytime soon.” You left out the part about contemplating a new life for the better part of three weeks, knowing it would only cause him more paranoia. You were staying in Quantico, continuing what you were born to do.

After drafting a rough profile and reviewing family statements, you took a break from the paperwork staring back at you all morning.

You made your way into the kitchen to find something for lunch, the afternoon approaching quick. All you really wanted to do was crash on the couch and watch old movies for hours, until monday morning inevitably rolled around. Selfishly you wanted your vacation to last forever. But your mind, and your bank account, thought differently.

After consuming a sandwich and some chips, you brought back the fresh mug of hot chocolate to the kitchen table, ready to take on the second file. Two women raped, tortured, and murdered outside of Miami. Why the fuck did it always have to be Florida.

Halfway through the family statements, there was a knock at your door. You grabbed your gun from the side table, just in case. Only three people had a key to your apartment. One of them was in England, one you just got off the phone with, and one… you didn’t exactly know where you stood with him.

After checking the peephole and seeing Hotch on the other side, you let out a sigh of relief. No one is coming to muder you. But it was quickly replaced with the memories of your last encounter, and the unspoken realization of feelings unrequited.

You placed your gun back on the table, and unlocked the door for him. He was wearing a navy blue quarter zip, jeans, and sneakers, the ultimate Aaron Hotchner not on duty look. It made your heart beat just a little faster noticing his hair was free of any gel, flopping naturally as he walked.

“Hi,” You greeted him, half of you hidden behind your front door.

A shadow of a smile crossed his lips, and he placed his hands in his pockets. “Hi. I’m sorry for stopping by unannounced. I know you must be tired and getting ready for Monday.”

“No, it’s okay. Did you want to come in?” You opened the door a little more, stepping out to show your sweatpants and sweatshirt look from behind the door.

“Thank you.” He murmured as he walked through the entrance, moving to take off his shoes. You told him a million times that you didn’t follow that rule, and that you hated it when people made their guests remove their shoes. But he told you once that it was a sign of comfort, that he felt at ease in someone else's home.

“Can I get you something to drink? I have some tea bags left over I think, or I can make you a cup of coffee.”

“No, I’m okay.”

“Are you sure? It’ll only take a second. Oh, are you hungry? I still have some sealed crackers from before I left, might have something in the freezer if-”

“Y/n,” He interrupted you and you stopped in the middle of your path to the kitchen. “I’m fine.”

“Okay,” You nodded, making your way back to the living room. “Oh, I um, got something for Jack while I was in England with Emily. I know it’ll probably keep him holed up in his room for a week, but I couldn’t resist.”

You pulled out the bag of souvenirs you got for the team, grabbing the London attractions lego set you bought for the young boy. Aaron smiled when you handed it to him, knowing the two of them would no doubt be starting this when he got home.

“You didn’t have to get this for him. But he’s gonna love it.”

“I know.” You reached in the bag once more, pulling out the gift you got for Aaron. “And I know you’ll probably never wear this, but I had to get it for you.”

He opened the box, a british flag tie on the inside. He couldn’t help the laugh that escaped his lips, the tacky gift really meaning a lot to him. “Thank you. I can honestly say this is the most unique gift I’ve ever received.”

“Glad to hear it.” You tucked your foot underneath you as you settled onto the couch, letting Aaron set the gifts aside. You knew what conversation was coming next, but you didn’t have the courage to start it. Especially since he was the one to come to you.

He settled in on the couch, a cushion between the two of you, a clear boundary that he’d set.

“Did you enjoy your time over there?”

“I had a really great time. I can’t believe I’d gone thirty two years without leaving the country. You don’t realize how much of the world there is to see until you go and uncover a small fraction of it.”

He smiled while beginning to pick at his fingernails. This was a new tell of his, he was usually extremely reserved with his anxiety. “You sound like Emily.”

“I’m going to take that as a complement.” You said with a small laugh, adoring the woman across the ocean.

“It is. She called me a few days ago, told me you guys had a nice visit.”

“We did. Prentiss knows how to have a good time no matter the city. It was a little too much for me, though.”

“Nobody can quite keep up with Emily.” He added before letting out a breath.

“She also told me that you were contemplating leaving the BAU.” There goes the first shoe, dropping from the ceiling. “Are you still thinking of quitting?”

“No.” It was the truth. Em had spoken some sense into you, and you knew deep down, like you told Spencer, this was your home. “I just needed a break from everything. And Europe was an amazing distraction. But I’m back, and ready to get back into the swing of things.”

He nodded, some tension slowly released from his shoulders. He couldn’t lose another member. It was too soon.

“Was it because of me?”

“What?” Even though you were expecting this conversation, it still caught you off guard.

“I’m not conceited enough to think you fled to another continent because of a fight, but is that what pushed you over the edge? What led you to want to quit the BAU?”

In a word, yes. The argument was the last straw on the camel's back. You’d spent years with this unit, fulfilling a destiny that you made up for yourself so that you wouldn’t feel guilty for not having a family or friends to confide in. You spent the better part of the last three years pining for a man you couldn’t have, trying to fill the holes in your life by playing pretend. So yes, it was Hotch that pushed you over the edge. But you learned a hell of a lot about yourself in those four weeks.

“Hotch, did you know that this was the first time I went on an airplane for my own enjoyment? This was the first vacation I’ve been on in my life. I booked a flight on a Thursday night that left at six a.m. the next morning. I was spontaneous, and in control of all the moves I would make for the next thirty days. I’ve never felt more liberated in my life.

“But then I landed in Copenhagen, and had an anxiety attack. I can’t speak Danish, I have no idea how to get around a new country, and I only had thirty dollars in cash to my name. And the only thing I could think of to help me get through it, was calling you. I had your contact pulled up, ready to call you and tell you what a stupid fucking mistake I made. But then I could hear your voice in my head, saying ‘I know you’, and I’d never turned my phone off faster.”

“Y/n,” He sounded exhausted himself, but you weren’t going to give in to the apologies. Not yet.

“I had the time of my life there. I went to places that I never thought I’d get to see in my life. Places that my foster parents told me I’d never be important enough to go to. But I made it. I made it to Giverny, and I saw what inspired Claude Monet to paint the Water Lilies series with my own eyes. I went inside La Sagrada Familia and walked on the steps that Gaudi dreamt of. I saw everything I wanted to, and I wept every place I went to. Because I got myself there. I persevered and worked my ass off my whole life, to get there. I didn’t have any parents, I didn't have any siblings, a spouse, or children. I did it all by myself, and it felt pretty amazing to accomplish that.

“No one knows me like I do.” You finished. Your walls were back up starting to feel secure in your own skin again.

He stayed silent for a few minutes, maintaining eye contact with you the entire time. He was calculating his response, trying to formulate the perfect response to get the two of you back on track. It was exhausting watching his brain work, and you wondered how tired he must always be.

After another minute, he sighed and dropped his hands into his lap. “Beth and I broke up two weeks before you left.” The other shoe had dropped.

“What?” For the second time tonight, you were rendered speechless by Aaron Hotchner. This was not the response you were expecting, and not the news you expected to hear anytime soon. The two of them were obsessed with one another, how could they just end it?

“We ended it two weeks before your trip. She accepted a job in Kyoto, and didn’t want to string me along with long distance. But she also said she knew my heart wasn’t in it anymore.”

You stood up from the couch, not being able to sit still with this new information. Hotch and Beth were no longer together, he said all those things to you as a single man, understood what you felt for him, and still let you walk out of his office. For four weeks.

“Why didn’t you tell me?” It was his turn to stand, still leaving enough distance between the two of you to continue your pacing.

“Don’t deflect to another conversation.”

“You’re the one that brought it up!”

He sighed, running a hand through his perfectly shaggy hair. “I don’t want to have this conversation with you again. So please, get it through your thick skull when I tell you that I know you. And I don’t mean that on a bureaucratic superior level. I know you, y/n. And just because you’ve been alone your whole life, doesn’t mean you deserve to be alone for the rest of it.”

Your eyes started to water, so you looked away, gluing your line of sight to the wall next to you.

“You give us all one hundred and ten percent of your attention when we need you. And when I say all of us, that includes Jack and Henry. I’ve never met someone so intune to another person's feelings, who exudes so much empathy with one look and a smile. And we’ve taken you for granted for seven and a half years. Me the most.” Your eyes found his brown ones, begging you to continue looking at him. “I couldn’t have gotten through Haley’s death without you. And that is the biggest understatement of the decade. I am eternally grateful for all that you’ve done for me and Jack. But at the same time, I’m so sorry that it pushed me further and further away from you.”

His own eyes started to water, and he choked out a laugh. “What you said to Kathryn Downey, about giving yourself completely to a person and not getting the love reciprocated. I felt like an absolute idiot for not realizing that you felt the same way I did.” You closed your eyes with his confession, letting the tears roll down your cheeks.

“There were so many times I wanted to tell you. But then Haley took Jack, and Foyet came, and the world got away from me. And I’m so sorry that you’ve felt the need to carry all our problems on your own.”

“Hotch, you don’t have to apologize.”

“Please, don’t call me Hotch right now.” He took a step toward you. “It’s Aaron, when I’m standing in front of you, begging you to just let me in.”

“I don’t,” Your voice cracked, and you rubbed your hands over your face in frustration. “I don’t know how to let someone love me.”

“I know,” He took another step closer. “You’re just going to have to trust me when I tell you I’ve been in love with you for years.”

He didn’t see the rest of your tears fall, because you threw yourself at him, wrapping your arms around his neck and burying your face in his shoulder. His arms found their place around your waist, pulling you two impossibly close.

“I love you, Aaron.” You could feel him laughing with his chest pressed against your own, and he moved to kiss the side of your head.

“I love you.” He whispered back, causing the last of your tears to fall onto his sweatshirt.

He started to pull away, just enough to get a look at your face. His eyes were no longer filled with tears, but his cheeks still glistened when the light illuminated the damp spots on his face. He brushed a piece of hair behind your ear, letting his knuckles gently graze your temple. You caught his hand in the middle of his movement, lacing your fingers with his own. You’d been dying to know what it felt like to hold his hand like this for years, when you found yourself comforting him in his office one night, lightly holding his hand in yours. But this was so much better.

“You good?” He asked, and the corners of your mouth turned up the slightest.

“I’m good.” He traced the lightest check mark on your laced hands, causing a true smile to grace your face.

“You have a tally to see who can make me smile the most?”

“It’s just mine. Been keeping it for years. But I’m always in the lead.”

You laughed while letting go of his hand, wrapping your arms back around his neck. His eyes flickered to your lips for a second before looking back at you. You gave him a small nod, knowing he was asking for your permission.

When his lips met yours, you knew this was the feeling that all the fairytales sang about. He was gentle at first, slotting your upper lip between his own. It was slow, and full of love from the years of knowing one another inside and out. He bit your lower lip softly, barely there, and you slowly parted your lips, letting him trace your tongue with his own.

All you could think about was how warm he was, how his breath was actively leaving his lungs and entering your own as if you were one person. It was all consuming, and you were grateful that he took the lead, because you couldn’t focus on anything but him.

His hands slipped under your sweatshirt, resting on the skin just above your hips. You let out a small gasp as his cold fingers made contact with the sensitive skin, but it only made him laugh into the kiss.

After a few more moments of getting lost in the feel of one another, you reluctantly pulled away, needing air to fill up your lungs. But Aaron didn’t go far, gently resting his forehead against your own.

“I love you. And I don’t think I’m ever going to be able to stop telling you.” You closed your eyes and tilted your head up, slowly kissing him again.

“I’ll never get sick of hearing it.” You mumbled, your lips still grazing his own. He smiled into the kiss, which only made your heart glow brighter and brighter the more he showed you how he felt.

You pulled away first, tracing the outline of his jaw with your thumbs. “You are the best thing that’s ever happened to me.” He tilted his head to the side, just enough to press a kiss to the palm of your hand.

The tenderness this man exudes is beyond belief. “I really love you, Aaron.”

He laughed while pressing a kiss to your forehead. “I’m glad to hear that.”

You let him hold you for what felt like an eternity, but in reality was only a few minutes. “I promised Jack I would take him out for ice cream to make up for missing his soccer game last night.”

“Okay,” You said and started to pull away, but his grip on your waist only tightened.

“Really? You’re just gonna let go without a goodbye?” You laughed at his fake hurt expression, so incredibly happy that you get to see Aaron in this light, enjoying his son, his life, and you.

“I’m not about to stand in the way of Jack Hotchner and a sugar rush. That guy loves his sugar.”

He let go of your waist, but not without a light squeeze to your sides. “I know we literally just started this, but I really would like to tell him. I don’t want to keep any more secrets from him than I have to.”

You smiled at the thought of Aaron telling Jack how in love the two of you were. It made you feel complete, in a way you never thought you’d get to experience in your life.

“Tell him. As long as he doesn’t blab about it to anyone on the team just yet.”

“You sure?” You nodded while passing him the souvenirs as he slipped his sneakers back on.

“Aaron, he’s your son. I’ve loved him as long as I’ve loved you, maybe even longer.”

He stood up once again, that stupid smile not willing to leave his face any time soon.

“I don’t know what I did to deserve you.”

“Must’ve been something pretty good.” You said with a laugh, which he silenced by placing his lips on yours. You hoped the butterflies you felt now would be there every time he kissed you, no matter how many years have passed.

“Like that.” You said once he pulled away. His dimples were showing now, and you wished that you could take a picture of him in this happy moment and remember it for the rest of your lives.

“I’ll call you tonight.” He said and opened the front door.

“Okay. Have fun, tell Jack I said hi.”

“I will.” He kissed your cheek before starting the walk back down the hallway. He didn’t even make it halfway before turning around, and giving you one final kiss in the doorway.

“Love you,” He said and gave you one more peck, before you shoved his shoulder. “I love you too. Now get outta here, Hotchner.”

****

tags: @simplyprentiss @michaelahah @ssahotchner99 @svrgicalhands @hotchtopic @unionjackpillow @philcoolson @tommhollandzxhaz @kathleenjasmine @canimarrypizzaornah @reaperwalking @inlovewithaaronhotchner @shelbymm11 @mrshotchner23 @tropicalwrites @averyhotchner @dreamy-moments @softhxtch @crazymar15 @theinsanespaceship15 @wecouldbreakthedistance @jeor @funnycuteandannoying @andherestograce @thisisntjuliana @captwilson @kennedyblair @lovelysunflowerxoxo @rcompton @iifaequeenii @iwaizumiee @mrsaaronh0tchner @abbeyannsmith-blog @becausehello @rinacriedpower @ssa-raye @ephemeral-barnes @slxtherinchxser @baueoud @lieswithoutfairytales @hug-a-bug-boo @blogmythoughts @freebanditghostcalzone @sugarbutterbailey

#aaron hotchner x female! reader #aaron hotchner x female!reader #aaron hotchner x reader #aaron hotchner fic #aaron hotchner imagine #criminal minds #criminal minds fanfiction #jules writes shit ??

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yolo1650 · 4 years ago

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Animal Crossing One Shot- Your Love (ReddxReader)

Summary: After a stressful outing with your family, you decide to let loose and spend the rest of the night with your most recent hookup.

Word Count: 3170

Warnings: This one definitely is rated M for mature just to be safe, talk of sex, slightly smutty, angst, especially at the end, inappropriate drinking, mentions of drug use, two adults being bad examples, reckless behavior, has adult language, minors please do not read

This was inspired by the song “Your Love” by the Outfield. I also recommend you guys check out the PostModern Jukebox cover of the same song, the vibe really fits this fic’s atmosphere

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Thankfully the streets were nearly empty around this time, which made the trip there quick and smooth. The street lights and buildings flew past you at accelerating speeds as you neared your destination.

*ping*

You didn't even have to look at your phone to know who it was that texted you, or what it said. Knowing him, it was probably his usual smirking emoji, or an eggplant one if he was feeling particularly frisky today.

Not that it mattered, because after what you had to go through earlier, you were honestly down for anything.

It was only after stepping outside of your modest 2012 Honda Civic did you realize you forgot to change out of the clothes you wore to the party. The combined sale value of your outfit and the wine set in your hands had to equal at least triple the sale value of the car alone. Thankfully it was only two in the morning. So no one was around to witness you, the walking oxymoron, lock their rental car before walking across the street.

In all the months that you have done this, this would be the first night where you were reckless like this. You assured yourself that it would also be your last.

The door in front of you opened to a shirtless, grinning fox with a lit cigarette in hand. He was a little bit younger than any of your previous hookups. But you didn't mind, and the sex was definitely much more playful and addicting because of it. Perhaps that was why you found yourself standing in front of his door almost every week for the past three months.

He whistled a low whistle.

"You know if you wanted to go out and have dinner, you should have picked a more reasonable hour to meet me."

Trying your best, you repressed a bittersweet laugh. Dinner did sound nice. Then the two of you could remotely feel like a normal couple. Only, you weren't a normal couple. You quickly changed the subject by raising your hands, one which held a wine bottle, and another which held two wine glasses and a wine key.

"No worries, I have all the dinner we need right here."

Handing him the bottle, you saw his eyes light up in intrigue and excitement.

Redd never asked you to spend money on him and neither did you, as the two of you knew damn well that these meetings had to leave a paperless trail. If anything suspicious showed up on your credit card statement, your parents were sure to find out and it would be bad news for the both of you. It also did his ego some good too, as there was no way he could ever do better than this fancy bottle of wine.

You only started bringing a complimentary drink this past month, all usually from your family's cellar. Not that Redd was complaining or anything. You were already one hell of a main course, why not spice it up with a nice little appetizer?

So what was it this time? A deep, mature Merlot? A fun, fruity Pinot Noir? Maybe it was one of those simple and bold Chardonnay he liked so much last time. He put out his cigarette before turning the bottle over and examining its label.

"Ahh, you know, I've always wanted to try-" The length of the name alone was enough to stop him mid-sentence. "Mmm, sorry sugar, I can't accept any gifts with names I can't pronounce."

You chuckled and moved next to him to see for yourself. As you took the bottle from his hands, you gave no protest when he pulled you closer with his hand at your waist. You grinned at the sight of the familiar label.

"It's Pinot Noir," you explained. "More specifically, a Maison Leroy, 1989."

Redd couldn't help but feel his heart flutter at the sight of that mischievous twinkle in your eyes.

"My parents are so going to hate me when they find out that this is gone."

Your own eyes met with his own, which held an expression that made your heart stop.

"Rough day, huh?" He asked.

"You know it, handsome," you whispered into his ear. A pleasant shiver ran down his spine.

As you went off to prepare the drinks in the tiny kitchenette he had, Redd closed the door and leaned against it. Usually the pet names were more or less his sort of thing. But every once and a while you would throw in a few of your own and every damn time, it would always drive him crazy. Everything about you drove him crazy. Your soft hair. Your lively eyes. Your amazing body. Your beautiful smile.

Watching you open the bottle with a little pop, he felt something stir within him. A want to hold you closer than ever before and never let go. A desire to wake up with you curled against him, instead of seeing you walk out the door. A need to share with you his heart, his soul, and his everything.

But the two of you weren't in that kind of relationship now, were you?

Still deep in thought, Redd didn't even see that you were already carrying your drinks to the bedroom.

You looked back to his piercing, half-lidded gaze and, after interpreting it for a lustful one, flashed a sly grin in return.

"Well come on then, I didn't come here to be drunk and alone tonight."

To Redd, those words only confirmed what he already knew, that you were only here for a good time.

~~~

One of the first lessons your parents taught you, as their only child and heir to one of the world's richest corporations, was to be very selective of who to trust. It wasn't until recently that you realized that anyone who gave that advice were the ones that should be distrusted the most.

How ironic.

It seemed like from that point on your entire life was defined by irony. You were the most alone when you were surrounded by your family. The deadbeat apartment of a stranger’s was more like home than the pristine mansion that you grew up in. Your most treasured memories were held within the cheap fabrics of a futon. And as you sat on top of the lap of a criminal, next to a half-empty bottle of wine, you swore you've never felt more safe than when he wrapped his arms around your waist.

Your own arms have found the perfect spot on Redd's shoulders. It brought his face nice and close to your own, which not only made kissing his lips easy, but also his jaw and neck as well. Hot breaths tickled the inside of your ear, causing you to giggle uncontrollably.

"Redd, you're so drunk," you said as you rested your forehead against his own. Your own words were just as jumbled as the nonsense you heard before. "Whaddjiya say?"

Looking at his flushed face, you watched as his lips curled into a lazy grin as he hummed. His eyes were half lidded and full of adoration. Being this close together, you were sure he could hear how fast your heart was beating.

You didn't even know Redd for very long, or really knew him at all for that matter, and yet with one look he was able to send your heart racing. Well, you knew he was an artist, not only well adept in the visual arts but the art of conning as well. But that never bothered you. You've known some family members who've done far worse, scamming people out of their own pride and disgust for the poor. Redd only scammed because he needed to, and that made him the most honest person that you've ever met.

And the best part was that you could actually be yourself around him. Without the judgmental gaze of your family or their friends, there were no rules, no worries, no box to be squeezed into. It was just you and Redd, and he has never judged you once for it.

He pecked your nose with a gentle kiss.

"I said, ya look beautiful darling, being all dressed up like that and all."

Even after two full glasses, you still felt a new wave of heat rushing into your cheeks. You gave a small, strained smile before locking lips with him once again. The kiss, slow and full of longing.

At first you liked seeing Redd a little bit drunk. He would get a little more cuddlier, and a little bit more direct with his flirting. With that, it was like you could pretend for just a few moments that you were more than just a hookup. But now it just made your heart throb as you were reminded of the events that brought you here in the first place.

Pushing those feelings down a familiar one rose up on top. Cupping his face with your hands, you deepened the kiss as you adjusted yourself to sit right on top of his growing erection. As you moved your hips back and forth, Redd moaned underneath you. He moved his hands from your waist, down to grip you from behind, pushing you into him more. After breaking away, the two of you shared a moment of reprieve, as your breaths came out in short pants. You grinned a devilish smile before speaking.

“While I’m glad you like the outfit, I was hoping you could rip it off me, sport.”

Redd flashed his canines, displaying a sinful glee of his own.

“Feeling anything in particular today?” He asked.

You leaned in and whispered hoarsely into his ear. “Just surprise me.”

A low growl came out of Redd's mouth as he pushed you down on top of the futon, making you giggle. You’ve seen Redd’s body on top of you like this dozens of times. But this time, there was a nervous fluttering inside you as his fingers skillfully undressed you. At first you just chalked it up to the excitement of having sex with him.

But the butterfly sensation remained even as he deeply kissed you. His hands caressed your body, its touch was gentle, leaving every square inch aflame. When your eyes locked with his, the nerves came back stronger than ever, and deep down you knew the real answer. It left only one question in your mind:

Was it possible to be in love with someone you barely knew?

~~~

By now, Redd already knew all of your sexual preferences. Usually you liked it a little on the rough side, some days more than others, depending on how stressed out you were. On the occasion when you were in a really good mood, you'd like something more on the teasing side. Him on the other hand, well, he wouldn't say he really had a preference. He always enjoyed sex with you. It wasn't every day where he met someone who's stamina rivaled his own, and the challenge that provided was something Redd was always down for.

But this time, your request was to "just surprise you," and at that moment he knew he wanted to do something new and different. While you were the same smart, confident and snarky person who walked into the bar and captured his interest months ago, things just felt different now.

Even though you never outright said much about yourself, you never really had to. Whatever you left unsaid you would say it ten times louder with your actions. He knew you came from good money, even your more modest clothes were well over how much he made in a year. But you've never acted like any other booshi he's known. No empty promises and pity looks, no flashy speech to protect your ego and to talk down scum like him. You didn't even bat an eye when he told you how he makes most of his money. In fact, he's never met anyone who yelled "fuck the rich" as loudly or as proudly as you.

The two of you were kindred spirits. Left bitter by the betrayal of the world and yet still managed to find each other. Tonight was the night where he'd show you that, using his whole body to do it.

At the end, only breathless gasps were uttered between you. Both of your cheeks were colored red, despite the alcohol having already left your systems. Your backs were leaned against the only pillow that he owned. You were the first one to speak.

"I don't know if it was the Leroy that did it this time, but that was probably the best sex I've ever had."

Redd swung his arm around your shoulder and pulled you close. He looked at you with a prideful grin.

"Oh yeah? Care to explain?"

That would have been the second time he's seen you blush like that tonight, like a spark of kitsunebi. Its beauty flashed briefly before disappearing once again, a trick in the light. Your eyes had trouble meeting his gaze. They constantly flitted back and forth between him and your lap as you struggled to find the words.

"If felt..."

Were you embarrassed? You, the one that openly admitted and pursued your alcoholic tendencies. You, the one who, after wrecking a bar because one sleaze couldn't take a hint, nonchalantly left a six figure check into the manager's hand and walked away. You, the one that shamelessly banged as many people as paintings he's forged. Unbelievable. Redd's smile only widened as he witnessed your tongue-tied condition. Eventually you sighed in defeat and turned away. Your answer was just barely above a whisper.

"...I don't know, just different. But in a good way."

He reached out and gently grabbed your chin, turning your face back to him. Your faces were close enough for a kiss. But really, he just wanted to get a good look at that flustered face, and damn did you look adorable. He could just stare at it all day.

The words came tumbling out of him before he even knew it.

"Is it crazy that I might be in love with you?"

For just an instant, he saw it. That look of dread, that face that someone made when everything went wrong. It left as quickly as it came because soon enough your hungry lips crashed into him, and he was reminded of the first night you were together. The kiss was forceful, not once giving him time to breathe. Before he knew it, you had him pushed against the wall with an arm on either side of his face. In the next second you had released your hold on his lips and looked down at him with half-lidded eyes.

"Yes," was your only response before crashing in on him again.

Well, that certainly wasn't the answer he was expecting. He remained stiff and motionless underneath you, unsure how to respond. But the feeling of you on top of him was tempting, to just melt into your touch was too easy. He kissed you back. That look that he thought he saw earlier was probably just his imagination, and what you probably meant to say was that you liked crazy people. Good thing they called him Crazy Redd.

When you bit down on his lower lip, it sent small tingles of electrifying excitement between you two and he pulled you closer. It just felt so right to have you in his arms, he was sure you felt it too. Why else would you be on top of him right after he told you he loved you? As you traced teasing kisses down his stomach he could tell you were asking for a second round. His expectant gaze being the only confirmation you needed to keep going. Any fears he had before ceased to exist once he looked into your eyes, full of passion and confidence. He loved you, and deep down, he knew you loved him too.

Right?

Hearing Redd's soft snores next to you was your cue to start getting dressed. You tried your best to be quick and it wasn't because you were about to be late for work. Grabbing all of your things, including the Leroy, you head towards the door. But before you reached for the doorknob, you dared to turn back at Redd’s sleeping body.

Even though you've seen his peaceful face countless time, every time, even now, it still felt like it was the first. You felt your heart swell along with the gentle rise and fall of his chest as you walked closer. Looking down, you tried your best to memorize every square inch of his serene face, its slender shape, a cute, twitchy nose, high cheekbones and thin eyebrows, You were even close enough to place a kiss right between those eyebrows. It wasn’t like he was going to wake up, especially after last night. Just a sweet little kiss goodbye before you ever saw him again.

You breath hitched and you pulled yourself away from his face, suddenly remembering yourself. As you made your way back to the door, you tilted your head back, taking a few gulps of last night’s wine. You urged yourself forward. Redd’s face wouldn’t look so sweet if you stayed any longer. You imagined his fine eyebrows, strained as they knit together in anguish, his bright eyes now simmering embers, and his lips sealed tight into an uncharacteristic frown. Stealing one last glance at the Redd behind you was like comparing day and night. You were doing yourself a favor by having your last memory of Redd’s face be this one, and not the one you’ve been fearing all night.

Finishing up the last of the wine, you left the apartment as the memory Redd's confession last night replayed in your head. If Redd was crazy for just loving you, you had to be downright mental to be driving away like this.

As you bit your lip and clenched your shaking hands onto the steering wheel, you deeply wished the ache in your chest would go away. You wished he didn’t confess to you tonight, of all nights. You wished you didn't go to that party with your family before coming here. You wished you had the choice to just be happy, because in just a few months you were going to marry someone you could never love. The only one you did love you've just left alone in his futon, and you were never going to see him ever again.

After getting on the highway, you weren't sure whether to feel surprised, agitated or indifferent when you felt hot tears prickle at the corners of your eyes. You swallowed a hard lump in your throat. Unfortunately you’ve just finished whatever alcohol you had on you and your Vicodin was in the other car. Your only condolence was the fact that there was always more time to cry in the shower after you got home.

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Kitsunebi-also commonly known as foxfire. Used in folklore as a means to lead travelers astray

Ohhhhh booyyyyyyy. I told ya’ll this one was going to be a doozy.

But also, wow! My first (kind of) songfic! I decided to leave out the lyrics throughout the fic, it just messed up with the flow too much. Especially since I added so much background info, the reader here is just half a step away from being a full fledged oc XD

If you liked reading things like these, I’d recommend Friends with Benefits (a Hetalia fic), by YourHero213 on Wattpad. (It actually has a happy ending lol)

If you’re looking for something with more substance, more unrequited feelings and more romantic tension, I’d highly recommend I’m a Fool to Want You (a Hazbin Hotel fic) by DisneyFanatic2364. I’ve linked the one on AO3, but it’s on fanfction.net as well.

Both of these writers are a big inspiration for my own writing. So I hope you can show them some love too!

Let me know what you guys think, constructive criticism is especially welcome here :D

-(･ω･)v

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moontheoretist · 3 years ago

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I am watching What IF...?

Episode 1: What if... Captain Carter were the First Avenger?

You know... when I saw that it started from the breach in Captain America timeline and saw Peggy become a super soldier, I was pretty sure that Steve will resent her for what she did, because his portrayal in the First Avenger movie even before the serum indicated that he would be, just like he was of Bucky for being drafted while he was left behind. It’s canon behavior for him as far as I noticed.

What If..?’s Steve however is a better man. I dunno when exactly he changed, but he did. He doesn’t act as if he resented Peggy, and he seems quite ok with how everything turned out. Which is like, wow, I didn’t expect that. Also, Peggy has a far better story as Captain.

Like, she isn’t put into USO, she is denied being a soldier even, because she is a woman, the only thing she seems to share with Captain America is murdering punching bags and throwing stuff when angry, which is kinda a bad sign, but ok, everybody needs coping mechanisms. ANYWAY, when she learns where Hydra went, she quickly figured out what they were after, but the guy in charge (John Flynn), the same one who told her that she is a woman not a soldier, doesn’t want to send her there even though they still have a chance to get it back in time. So Howard steps in and her whole rebellion against the military is about not endangering everybody with a stupid ass decision made by a general who doesn’t get how important the cube is, instead of about saving just one man and accidentally saving 400 others by extension by literally going AWOL and endangering his friends like MCU Steve did. Everything about the mission which makes her recognized is about retrieving the Tesseract. And Howard gives her a uniform and a shield to do just that. All in British colors, because American military sucks.

(I love their “she just reaped the bars out, holy shit” faces xD)

AND THEN they go SAVE BUCKY. That makes much more sense story wise. And also Howard is showing Steve that technology can aid him when the serum now can’t, because Peggy is the super soldier instead, literally building better foundations for Steve’s attitude towards technology and the future. He will not be stuck in ice and come back for the Avengers, but at least he is getting better development not only in relation to this topic, but also to his hatred towards his body and his masculinity. Peggy still wanting him despite him being small and frail and now also disabled even more after he was shot and has to walk with a cane, literally builds in Steve the idea that his masculinity is not weak or bad, because he is not a macho muscly type and that his body isn’t something which he should hate or which makes him less than others. AND he is literally Tony now! I did suspect that the technology he got was a suit, but damn, is Steve in this universe fated to be the first Iron Man and then Tony second?

Lol, they named him “Hydra Stomper”.

And now Peggy teaches Steve the most important lesson “the Suit is nothing without the man inside”, which he as much as Tony needed to learn to finally feel free and not less than the others, because they rely on something. The only difference between Steve and Tony here is that Iron Man without Tony is truly nothing, because he made it, while Steve's suit was given to him, so anybody can technically pilot it. Anyway, I like this Steve so much more than MCU one.

(Which when I think about it now creates a pothole in the later part of the episode. Like why Hydra and Red Scull let the suit hanging instead of use it against Peggy? Why put Steve in chains next to it? It kinda looks like damseling him for literally no reason. I wonder why they didn’t kill him right away? Because what? Because he had blonde hair and blue eyes? Or what? Scull liked him? And we cannot even say it was done for the sake of Peggy saving him, because Peggy never sees Steve in chains. She went the other way, so why is he there? To save for whom? Bucky? It would be more logical if Red Scull just killed Steve and put the suit himself and fought Peggy in it to hurt her. Then at least space squid wouldn’t kill him, lol... ah wait. OH, yeah, Tesseract was inside the suit, so he just took it out. Still, he could power up the suit with something else and put one of his people inside to fight Peggy anyway, just in case she came for him).

AND OF COURSE HE HAD TO TRAGICALLY DIE WHEN I FINALLY STARTED LIKING THE WEASEL! LOL, we know what will happen next. He will become the new Winter Soldier, I suppose? If he survived the explosion.

Oh, they brought the original castle storyline back! It never appeared in the Captain America: The First Avenger, even though I personally remember a castle being a main stage for the whole “Steve sacrificed himself prelude” thing, so it’s nice to have a castle and an interdimensional portal back, instead of a plane battle.

“I am up for anything, but this is crazy”.

“And so is Steve Rogers”

Me: *wheezing*

Anyway, he survived. There is no Winter Soldier in this universe and Peggy gets lost in the portal, and she is brought back to 2012 by I suspect Project Pegasus as it is the “Loki’s arrival” scene.

I think that now, if we assume that everybody else is still present in this universe, meaning that Tony became Iron Man and all, Steve becoming a Hydra Stomper and working with Peggy gave Captain Carter an experience in fighting alongside someone in a metal suit. Plus her friendship with Howard means that she won’t have any bad disposition towards Tony and hence Avengers team will actually work better, and if there is Civil War it would be different and about something else, because Captain Carter knows her way around learning political related stuff, so she wouldn’t really kick Accords in the ass unless it was a Hydra plot. I also suppose that without her making Project Paperclip, Hydra would not infiltrate SHIELD, or someone else does that, and Captain Carter would notice something is not right with SHIELD, and she would root the Hydra out herself.

Also, I wanna point out that the scene in which Peggy is shown to be “smarter than Howard” is there only to establish the difference between her and MCU Steve Rogers, who doesn’t know shit about technology. It’s not that Howard isn’t smart anymore. He is a civilian, who is not a brawling type, in a room with a huge octopus which crushed Red Scull like a wooden stick. It stands to reason that he would be panicked enough to not be able to articulate properly. It also establishes that no “it runs on some kind of electricity” will happen in this universe during the Avengers storyline, where she ends by the end of the episode. It comes out a little out of the blue, that’s true, but this is not a line which only “genius” or “science type” can say. It’s just a typical sci-fi approach to the problem with anything, which also sounds smart at the same time. She could even take it out from a sci-fi novel. But I agree that they didn’t establish where that knowledge comes from in any of the previous scenes.

Episode 2: What if... T’Challa became a Star-Lord?

Lol, a vastly different reaction xD

And this was the moment when young T’Challa thought, “who needs to tell their baba that they’re going into space, anyway?” and just went and disappeared. I don’t even wanna know what Wakanda did after the prince vanished. Though it means that Shuri can become a queen and the Black Panther now, HELL YEAH!

And this is the proof that anybody who says that we have to murder someone else to “save the planet” from overpopulation is wrong. (Because they are wrong, just go and check studies about that). T’Challa just showed Thanos the benefits of equal share of the resources and saved the universe with logic and diplomacy.

And my hopes for Queen Shuri just went out the window. BTW, why Nebula turned into a living example of “blue space babe” (from feminist studies which pointed out that alien women are just human women painted colors and shown in sexy clothes or portrayed as dancers and prostitutes for the benefit of the male gaze). She got sexy hair, sexy dress, and she is later shown to be some kind of spy by the clothes she wears and her general attitude. She reminds me so much of Natasha that I am tempted to say she is a sexy spy cliché.

It’s kind of degrading after the whole episode which centered around a woman being denied being a soldier, which in the whole militaristic and male dominated setting was pretty much conveying feminist messages, while here in another male dominated setting we have only two women shown with any lines and one of them is Nebula sexy spy. It just comes across weird after the previous episode, tbh.

She even speaks like Natasha from the MCU... and she betrays just like our dear russian friend, Natasha. Anyway, it looks like Queen Shuri is still on the table! Wakanda prevails! It was not destroyed!

Ok, nevermind. She is a space Black Widow, but in this way that she plays every side just like Natasha does. Apparently... betrayal was part of the plan, lol. What is with this idea that women named with a name starting with N are good spies in this universe?

Carina the badass! GO CARINA! SHOW THEM!

At least in this universe, she doesn’t foolishly die for “drama”. Or, in MCU’s case, for exposition to show “what happens to those who touch the infinity stone”. I gotta say, her revenge was sweet.

#what if...?#what if...? spoilers #peggy carter #bucky barnes #nebula #t'challa #thanos #mcu steve rogers critical #what if...? steve rogers rulez #mcu critical #feminism #why did you have to sexualize Nebula to make her second Natasha?

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1-lightofjustice · 4 years ago

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You feel uncomfortable about Scepter 4 year-end track, is it because you're Reisaru shipper and in that track Fushimi ditched Munakata to chase Misaki? You know that the track was made by Yellow, one of official GoRa's members, right? The track is, sadly for you, canon.

Fushimi ditched Munakata? Oho, I support it fully. Like hell, sometimes on Drama CDs or short stories (especially Gakuen K) Fushimi is so tolerant with Munakata's shenanigans and made me want to scream "just kick him and run away Fushimi!" (Case point : Munakata fishing trip, Munakata got handcuffed, Munakata's King Game, Fushimi became Santa Claus). And for me, the fact that Fushimi can refuse Munakata and willing to do so without any fear or hesitation is the cute and healthy point of Reisaru. He already coldly rejected Munakata many times you know, like when he refused to accompany Munakata on his hobby because it reminded him of the time when he was roped by Totsuka into various activities, he refused to play cheese with Munakata, he refused to see autumn falling leaves together with Munakata on their day off, etc. So yeah, the fact that Fushimi ditched Munakata to chase Misaki didn't bother me at all.

So what made me feel uncomfortable for this track? Just one word, Timeline. The explanation is a bit meta-y so if you don't want read my rambling, the short answer is there's discrepancy with the main canon timeline, and while it's not impossible, the implication made me uncomfortable. Again, not impossible but hella uncomfortable for me. For full explanation....

See, for me, since most of K Drama CDs are mostly gag tracks, the ones that I treat as canon are Drama CDs that I think can be slotted in canon timeline. Drama CDs like Crow's Repayment, Snow White, and Izumo's Room are definitely not canon because there's no way those were happened on main timeline situation. Drama CDs like Everything Sank Except Me and That Guy and Munakata Fish The World is obviously placed after ROK (since Munakata got weakened like he can't pull a tire and Sarumi's improved relationship). Other drama like Munakata-kun's Strap, Elevator, or For Justice can easily be slotted in pre-anime or even post season 1. Window Shopping, Figure Direction, and Private Hero are obviously pre-anime by the casual appearance or mention of Mikoto and Totsuka. There are Drama CD that used as blatant promotion of K Project, like Guys Meeting in The Shower and it's Girl Version counterpart which completely break the fourth-wall by "Hey we are bunch of K boys in K world let's we dip in hot water and talk" which is definitely not gonna happen in canon.

So what category is YEP (Year End Party) Drama CD? It's logical enough to happen on canon. It didn't break any fourth wall. If we assumed that YEP Drama CD is truly happened on canon, on what period it's happened? It's definitely on pre-ROK, and by the casual mention of Mikoto, can it happen on pre-Season 1?

The answer is no. Why? Because unlike other Drama CD who has no mention of time as our foothold, YEP Drama CD has two hints about the specific time it happened. First, it's about year-end party, so the drama CD was happened on the end of December. Second, by the mention of ABCDEFGH as a squad that was expected to come by Munakata, it means that Scepter 4 Special Ops Squad was already formed, since before it ABCD were leaders of 1st-4th platoons and EFGH were ordinary swordsmen of 4th platoon. Is it impossible for them to have casual gathering together? No. Is it impossible for them to get grouped together on formal gathering with their boss? Yes. Because based on Scepter 4 structure, they were not a group yet, they were not even on the same platoon. Like, if EFGH was invited, how about the rest of 1st-3rd platoons? How about the 5th platoon leader and members? (Poor 5th platoon, they didn't get any screen time except a brief mention on Season 1 episode 8). And before Special Squad was formed, Fushimi is just an ordinary rank on Intelligent Division, so why did he come to gathering for Scepter 4 bosses and leaders of Swordsmen platoons, with bunch of troublemakers from 4th platoon? (I mean, yeah he is Munakata's favorite and the King's private soldier, but that was not.... an official title). The Drama CD with the mentioned casts was not logical to happen if Fushimi and ABCDEFGH was not yet grouped under a special group, which is currently named Special Ops Squad.

Now when we established that YEP drama CD happened on late December, before ROK and after Special Ops squad was formed, let's look at the detailed timeline of K :

Special Ops squad was formed on Side Blue, detailed time was on 1st May 2012. Fushimi particularly joined Special Ops Squad and became the third-in-command on 6th June 2012. So the mentioned casts (Special Ops Squad) plus Awashima and Fushimi were expected to have Year End Party together with Munakata, it certainly happened on late December 2012. And what happened on December 2012? Apocalypse well quite almost close to that. On 7th December 2012 Totsuka was dead, and 12 days after, on 19th December 2012 Mikoto was dead, killed by (a very unwilling) Munakata. So if YEP drama CD happened on 23-31 December 2012, more or less a week after the end of Season 1 and Mikoto's death, then...

-Scepter 4 ditched Munakata even thought they were aware that more or less a week before their King killed his friend. If the rest of squad didn't know about Mikorei's relationship, then at least Awashima knew how hard mental blow that was received by Munakata on K Season 1. Yet she still ditched Munakata. I don't know what happened on previous YEP, but would the ever loyal Awashima ditched her King when she knew that Munakata was very possibly on his sad and hurtful period?

-Fushimi taunted Yata with mentioning Mikoto just more or less a week after Mikoto's death. Sure we knew that Fushimi could taunt Yata even after Mikoto's death, but (I hope) he didn't specifically search for Yata and taunt him with how Homra and Mikoto is suck just after Mikoto's death. On canon, after Mikoto's death Fushimi avoided the hell of Yata and Homra, on Missing King Yata called him first, and on ROK, their meeting was coincidental.

-I love Scepter 4 as a whole, and I particularly love Munakata and Fushimi on the same degree. But my love for each of them is a little different. I love both of them to be happy of course, but if Fushimi got flooded with angst, I will feel "oh yeah Fushimi angst, mmm delicious, give me more" but if I stumbled upon Munakata angst I will feel "noooo don't be sad, I don't want him to be sad, please someone fix it!" Yeah sorry Fushimi XD. And that is the reason why I can't enjoy Mikorei after Mikoto's death, because watching Munakata's constant brooding over Mikoto's death is damn uncomfortable for me and I can't even feel sad along with him for Mikoto's death (I don't hate Mikoto, but I am indifferent about him). So yeah, hearing how Munakata sounded genuinely upset when Scepter 4 members ditched him, when Fushimi ditched him, when I heard Munakata's lament that he was alone on the end of video, when more or less a week before he killed his friend, I can't enjoy it. I can't laugh for Munakata's misery, I feel uncomfortable as hell instead.

Please note, just I said, the track is not impossible to be canon. Is it possible for Awashima and the rest of Scepter 4 members to be annoyed enough by Munakata to ditch him even though not long ago Munakata killed his friend and almost died in the process? Yes. Is it possible for Fushimi to taunt Yata with Mikoto after Mikoto’s death? Yes. Is it possible for Munakata to be left alone in a bar? Yes. BUT, as Fushimi, Munakata, Awashima, and overall Scepter 4 fans, that kind of portrayal makes me uncomfortable so much, especially since I valued Scepter 4′s bond so much and don’t care (or you can say quite disliked) about Sarumi’s taunting and fighting, also Munakata angsting over Mikoto. Also if the lack of Yata’s anger and depressed over Mikoto’s death means that the Drama CD happened before Season 1 a.k.a December 2011 (Fushimi joined Scepter 4 on October 2010, so December 2010 would be his first YEP and he shouldn’t know about previous party), then as Scepter 4 nerds I need explanation why only ABCDEFGH, Fushimi, and Awashima that was expected to come when they were not on the same squad before and Fushimi even just an ordinary member of Intelligence Division that rarely associate with Swordsmen Squad as Hidaka pointed out. Compare that to another Scepter 4 annual event like Flower Gazing that included Zenjou, Yayoi, and even we can assumed that there are other Scepter 4 member joined on flower gazing on other places. Also, Flower Gazing as annual event is already mentioned 4 times but there's no mention of Scepter 4 year-end party except on that Drama CD.

Speaking about portrayal, I also don’t like some of jokes on that track. Namely when Munakata said that he installed surveillance camera on Scepter 4 dorm, Awashima’s dorm to be exact. I knew that Munakata is an S and can quite ignore the concept of privacy and personal space, but as a boss and a man, just like Fushimi said, that action is a crime. And not the funny one. Awashima should and must protest for that, no matter how loyal she is to Munakata. And Fushimi as the main advocate of privacy and personal space should not accept that kind of behavior from Munakata and didn’t let Munakata be with just a simple protest. Honestly, if I have a boss who pulled that stint of me, no matter how amazing he is, I will lose my respect on him. And I respect the hell outta Munakata. I will not say that the track is mischarasterized Munakata, since as you said Kabei Yukako (Yellow) is the writer and she wrote an amazing Munakata in LSW and Sand Castle story, but maybe she played with fandom jokes “tyrant Munakata” a little bit too hard. So yeah, I prefer if that track, especially that particular aspect, is not canon.

Not that I hate the whole track of course. I like some trivia about Scepter 4, especially the ones that was confirmed canon on other materials like Awashima loves plushies and Benzai has younger sister. I also like when Fushimi can baffle Munakata with his card trick. But still, Scepter 4 YEP Drama CD is uncomfortable for me.

Also track like Megane of Blue is also written by Gora Orange, it didn’t break the fourth wall or seemed happened on alternate universe, but you don’t actually believe that in canon Munakata truly became crazy if he lost his glasses right? Especially since we already got 2 glasses-less Munakata and he turned out just fine (three if you count Optician Drama CD, which is canon since it was mentioned on Countdown). On drama CD, script writers often exaggerate characters to create a joke, either Gora or non Gora.

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whenrockwasyoung19 · 4 years ago

Text

It’s Time to Talk about a Bespectacled Elephant in the Room

I’ve been in the Beatles fandom for 8 and a half years. I have had a Beatles blog for the entirety of those 8 and a half years, and I have watched as discourse about these four men evolve. The discourse inside and outside the fandom has become so toxic that I don’t think I can engage with it in the same way that I could before. Let me explain.

When I entered this fandom 8 and a half years ago, it was in 2012, quite an infamous year in tumblr history. That was the pique of “”cringey”” fandom culture. The Beatles fandom was as steeped in fandom culture as any other fandom. I know this because I was part of two of the top of fandoms at the time, Doctor Who and Sherlock. Believe me, I have seen cringe.

The fandom at the time was totally aware of the John, Paul, George, and Ringo’s flaws as individuals, but most fans tended to simply enjoy Beatles fandom as if it were the 60s. Some might call it ignorant bliss. If you asked me at the time, I’d have said it was self-aware ignorant bliss--if that even makes sense. At the time, there wasn’t a person with a Beatles icon who hadn’t heard the line “John Lennon beat his wife.” Everyone knew it, but everyone also knew the real story, and so everyone just made peace with it. As a result, people didn’t think about every bad thing the Beatles ever did on a daily basis. It was more like a once-a-month kind of thing. Otherwise, fandom discourse was quite fun and relaxed. There were no shipping wars, no one fought over who was the best Beatle, everyone gushed over the Beatles wives, and we all just had fun with fics and fan art.

Of course, in this period, people engaged in conversations about one bespectacled Beatles problematic behavior. These conversations usually came from outside of the fandom. It was usually randos coming into the tags or into someone’s ask box and ranting about John Lennon’s violent behavior. Some of it came from within the fandom. Some people really didn’t like John and gave others shit if they listed John as their favorite Beatle. A lot of the discourse boiled down to: ‘hey, I see you like John Lennon. You should know that he beat his wife. And now that you know that, you should feel bad about ever liking him in the first place.’ And the response was often, ‘Actually, John Lennon didn’t beat his wife. They weren’t even married at the time. And also he didn’t beat her, he slapped her once in the face, and then never did it again.’ No one’s minds were changed. The fans had made their peace, and the antis came off as cynical and pretentious.

When Dashcon happened, and Tumblr took a hard look at its cringey fandom culture, the Beatles fandom evolved as well. The fandom became, frankly, less fun. It no longer felt like a group of people who found the Beatles decades after the 60s and were fangirling like it was 1965. There was still some of that left, but a lot of it kind of faded. So, most fandom interactions were reblogging pictures of the Beatles from the 60s and various interview clips and quotes. But the barrage of antis never really went away, and the response didn’t evolve.

Then, the advent of cancel culture came on. I always waited for the Beatles to get, like, officially canceled, but I also felt they were uncancel-able at the same time. Let me explain. I have been a Beatles fan primarily in an online space, rarely engaging with fans in real life. But I have met fans who are life-long Beatles fans, people who are a lot older than us and who’s fandom isn’t tied to the internet. They don’t give a shit about any of our discourse. They may or may not have heard it before, but they seem totally indifferent to all of it. I’m sure most of them have never heard ‘Mclennon’ before. These are the people that flock to see Paul McCartney and Ringo Starr in concert (and pay astronomical prices for it). These are the people who go to record shops and buy vinyl. These are the people I run into at flea markets who buy up all the Beatles merch before I can even arrive (true story). So, the Beatles will never be canceled because there will always be people who love the Beatles and don’t engage with online discourse. Rarely said, but thank god for Gen-X.

As cancel culture took over the internet, fandoms changed. It’s not as noticeable in fandoms without problematic favs. For instance, I’m also steeped in the Tom Holland fandom, and that boy is a little angel who has done no wrong. No one has discourse about the unproblematic boy who plays an equally unproblematic character. But in fandoms with ‘problematic favs’ the mood has shifted. I’m also in the Taron Egerton fandom. Taron Egerton, for those who only follow me for my Beatles stuff, is a genuinely sweet and kind person who has had zero scandals in his six year career. There were some rumblings when he was cast as Elton John, and some people took issue with the fact that he’s a straight man playing a gay man. This discourse seemed to die quickly as a whole lot of straight people played gay people in that same year (Olivia Coleman as queer Queen Anne, Emma Stone as her queer lover, Rami Malek as Freddie Mercury). Why jump on this boy who at the time was still technically on the rise. He’s not exactly the same target as someone like Scarlett Johansson who has her pick of roles. Taron doesn’t have quite that some power in Hollywood, and I think most people made peace with the fact that this was a big role for him, and it’s not really fair to take that away from him. So, all in all, the closest thing to a scandal was something that died pretty much on arrival.

That was until this summer when everything changed. When George Floyd was murdered, celebrities flocked to social media to mourn his loss. Taron’s social media account was silent. For weeks, Taron said nothing about Black Lives Matter or Floyd’s death. This caused outrage in the fandom. Many raced to defend him, starting a hashtage #IstandwithTaron. Others sought to tear him down and anyone who supported him. The kind of mania this one incident caused tore through an otherwise peaceful fandom. What I saw was two sides in a total panic. The antis were people who once had faith that Taron was a good person and were now questioning that. Andthe defenders were people who desperately wanted him to be a good person and were afraid that he wasn’t. In essence, both sides could feel Taron about to get canceled. The defenders wanted to stop it, the antis wanted to ride that wave.

What this long drawn out Taron example is meant to convey: is that cancel culture has put fandoms on edge. One’s fav has to be perfect, otherwise it can jeopardize the existence of the entire fandom. I’ll admit, I was afraid that I’d be some kind of pariah for standing by Taron through all of this. My actions were to basically reason with the antis but still defend Taron. I defend him mostly because I felt that his silence was the result of a needed social media absence and that trying to shame him back onto social media was an invasion of privacy. But I was genuinely afraid that he would get canceled, and the fun of the Taron fandom would be lost.

In the Beatles fandom, it often feels like the Beatles, mainly John, have already been canceled. I see this coming from two different sources: antis from outside of the fandom and antis within the fandom. The outside antis are just the same as the ones from 2012. These are people who like to drop in that John Lennon beat his wife, posting this in the tag (which violates an ancient tumblr real by the way--no hate in the tags).

The antis outside the fandom speak to a larger anti-John Lennon sentiment online. I see references to John Lennon ‘beating his wife’ on Tiktok and twitter. The tone of anti-John Lennon posts has shifted. Before, it felt like the antis were being smug but also argumentative. They wanted to have a conversation about this bit of info they read on Reddit with no context. Now, “John Lennon beating his wife” is practically a meme. It’s a running joke online that John Lennon was a wife beater. I can’t look on my instagram explore page because every so often a John Lennon beats his wife meme will pop up amongst the other, normal, memes.

This change in discourse suggests that the internet has just accepted this as fact now. I should note that back in 2012, it seemed as if few people knew this fact. The fandom knew it, and these random antis knew it, but few others did. Now, because of how common these memes are, it seems to be widespread knowledge.

Consequently, the Beatles fandom, who used to ward off attacks from antis, seems to have given in. I recently saw a post from a Beatles blog (had the URL and icon and everything) that confessed they felt guilty for listening to the Beatles, and I’ve seen similar sentiments expressed in the fandom. People tend to put disclaimers in posts about John or even all four that John is an ‘awful man.’ It seems like the self-aware ignorant bliss has completely gone away. Occasionally, I still see posts joyously talking about Mclennon or reblogs of old photos from the 60s. But the culture has shifted.

Online, it no longer feels comfortable to be a Beatles fan. It feels like you have to own up to 8 decades of mistakes by four men you’ve never met. And, I should note, this is kind of how it feels to be a fan of anything right now. Taron is not canceled today, but he could be tomorrow. It’s this pervasive feeling of guilt that the person you’re supporting may or definitely has or is doing something wrong.

I’ll admit this uncomfortable feeling has expanded into other parts of my fandom life. I listen to their music, and I feel elated--the way I always have. Then, I get these intrusive thoughts which sound like all the worst parts of Twitter combined. It wasn’t always like this. Back in 2012, when I knew almost nothing about them, I saw them as four young men who were full of happiness, love for another, and talent. Back then, listening to their music was exciting and joyous. Sometimes, I fear that I can never feel that way again. Next year, when I finally go to Liverpool, will I be filled with excitement or guilt?

I say all this for a few reasons. One, I love John Lennon. I appreciate all the good he did for the world not just as a musician and an artist but also his advocacy and charity work. I love him, and a part of me will always love him, but observing the change in discourse has enlightened me as a historian. Part of my job is to observe people’s legacies, and John’s is perhaps the most interesting legacy I’ve ever observed. When he died, he was hailed as a saint. But tall poppy syndrome set in, and the antis started. This culture grew and grew to the point where it seems to, at least among the younger generation, taken over the sainthood.

But as a historian and a fan, I have never seen the saint or the devil. I’ve only seen the man, the incredibly flawed man. The thing that these antis never understand is that John Lennon was painfully aware of his own flaws to the point where it made him all the more self-destructive. In essence, his past mistakes caused him to make additional mistakes. But John, aware of his own flaws, always tried to change and was often successful. I’ve talked about this before, but John demonstrated that he was capable of being a good person, like properly so, again and again. After he struck Cynthia, he never hit her again. His shortcomings as a father to Julian weren’t repeated with Sean. He worked on his drinking, his drug addiction, and his anger, trying to overcome those demons till the day he died. By all accounts, the John Lennon that died in 1980 is not the John Lennon who struck Cynthia Powell at school. That John Lennon was living a cleaner, healthier life. He was a better father to both his sons by that point, and was trying to repair his relationship with Julian. He was a good husband to Yoko and saw himself living a long and happy life.

John Lennon cannot and should not be boiled down to just his flaws. It’s one thing as a fan to acknowledge that John is a flawed human being (news flash: they all are), but he is also much bigger than that.

So once again, why am I writing this long, rambling post, once again talking about John Lennon’s virtues? Because if I can’t engage with healthy discourse about the Beatles and John Lennon, then I can’t engage with discourse on the topic at all. So, I probably will post less Beatles stuff because I find it hard to go through the tags or even my dash (well, I can’t really go through my dash anymore for other reasons I’m not going to get into right now). If any of my followers have noticed a lot of Taron posts lately, it’s not just because I love Taron, it’s because Taron’s tag is pretty much the only location on tumblr I feel 100% comfortable in. Any foray into John or the Beatles tags becomes uncomfortable and guilt-ridden quickly.

So, I probably will post less about the Beatles until I can find a blog or a tag that doesn’t give me bad vibes. My fandom will likely outgrow tumblr and the internet. I have a ton of Beatles books; maybe I’ll rely on those. I am doing official scholarly research on them now. Maybe that will be my outlet. I’m sorry if I post less about them now, but it’s really for my own well-being.

#John lennon #the beatles

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oneweekoneband · 4 years ago

Video

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I’m slightly nauseous already with knowing I’m going to say this, but what does “self-awareness” even mean? In modern parlance, as a descriptive phrase, as a comment on art? I’m asking in earnest, like, I’ve been Googling lately, which for me is basically on par with doctoral study in terms of academic rigor. The self is king, anyway, tyrant, so where is the line of distinction between material that intentionally is nodding at some truth about the artist’s life and what’s just, like, all the rest of the regular navel-gazing bullshit. I mean, I’m all self, I am guilty here. I can’t get it out of my poems or even make it more quiet. This is the tenth time I’ve invoked “I” in the space of six sentences. Processing art has always necessitated a certain amount of grappling with the creator, but the busywork of it lately grows more and more tedious. Joy drains out of my body parsing marks left behind not just in stylistic tendencies and themes, but in literal, intentional tags like graffiti on a water tower. This feels an age old and moth-holed complaint, dull, and I am no historian, or really a serious thinker of any kind. I’ve now complained at some length about self-referential art, but didn’t I love how Martin Scorsese nodded to the famous Goodfellas Copacabana tracking shot with the opening frames of last year’s The Irishman? Didn’t I find that terribly fun and sort of sweet? So there’s distinctions. I’m only saying I don’t know with certainty what they even are. I’m unreliable, and someone smarter than me has likely already solved my quandary about why self-knowledge often transforms into overly precious self-reflexivity in such a way that the knowledge is diminished and obscured, leaving only cutesy Easter eggs behind. Postmodernism has birthed a moralizing culture where art exists to be termed either “self-aware Good” or “self-aware Bad”. Self-referentiality in media is so commonplace, so much the standard, that what was once credited as metatextual inventiveness often feels lazy now. In 1996, Scream was revitalizing a genre. Today, two thirds of all horror movies spend half their running time making sure that you know that they know they’re a horror movie, which is fine, I guess, except sometimes you just wanna watch someone get butchered with an axe in peace.

This is all to say that in 2020 Taylor Swift looked long and hard upon her image in the reflecting pool of her heart and has written yet another song about Gone Girl.

“mirrorball” is a very good piece of Gone Girl —feels insane to tell anyone reading a post on a blog what Gone Girl is but, you know, the extremely popular 2012 novel about a woman who pretends to have been murdered and frames her husband for it, and subsequently the 2014 film adaption where you kinda see Ben Affleck’s dick for a second—fanfiction. It would be a fine song, a good song, really, even if it weren’t that, if it were just something normal and not unhinged written by a chill person who behaves in a regular way, but we need to acknowledge the facts for what they are. When Taylor Swift watched Rosamund Pike toss her freshly self-bobbed hair out of her face and hiss, “You think you’d be happy with some nice Midwestern girl? No way, baby. I’m it!” her brain lit up like a Christmas tree, and she’s never been the same. If you Google “taylor swift gone girl” there waiting for you will be a medium sized lake’s worth of articles speculating about how Gone Girl influenced and is referenced in past Swift singles “Blank Space” and “Look What You Made Me Do”. This is not new behavior, and if anything it’s getting a bit troubling to think that it’s been this long since Taylor’s read another book. Still, while the prior offerings were a fair attempt at this particular feat of depravity, “mirrorball” has brought Taylor’s Amy Elliott Dunne deification to stunning new heights. And most importantly, Taylor has done a service to every person alive with more than six brain cells and a Internet connection by putting an end to the “Cool Girl” discourse once and for all. By the power invested in “mirrorball”, it is hereby decreed that the Cool Girl speech from Gone Girl is neither feminist or antifeminist, not ironic nor aspirational. No. It’s something much better than all that. It’s a threat. I ! Can ! Change ! Everything ! About ! Me ! To ! Fit ! In !

Gone Girl (2012) by Gillian Flynn

“mirrorball” (2020) by Taylor Swift

When the twinkly musical stylings of Jack Antonoff, a man I distinctly distrust, but for no one specific reason, whirl to life at the beginning of this song I feel instantly entranced, blurry-brained and pleasure-pickled like an infant beneath a light-up crib mobile or, I guess, myself in the old times, the outside times, three tequila sodas deep under the disco lights at The Short Stop. Under a mirrorball in my head. I know very little about music, as a craft, and I really don’t care to know more. I’m happy in a world of pure, dumb sensation. I’m not even sure what kind of instruments are making these jangly little sounds. I just like it. I am vibing. We may not ever be able to behave badly in a club again, but I can sway to my stupid Taylor Swift-and-the-brother-of-the-lady-who-makes-like-those-sweatshirts-with-little-sayings-or-like-vulvas-which-famous-white-women-wear-on-instagram-you-know-what-I-mean song, pressing up onto my tiptoes on the linoleum tile of our kitchen floor and can feel for a second or two something approaching bliss. “mirrorball” is a lush sound bath that I like a lot and then also it’s about being all things to all people, chameleoning at a second’s notice, doing Oscar worthy work on every Zoom call, performing the you who is good, performing the you who is funny, performing the you who draws a liter of your own blood and throws it around the kitchen then cleans it up badly all to get your husband sent to jail for sleeping with a college student... Too much talk about making and unmaking of the self is way too, like, 2012 Tumblr for me now, and I start hearing the word “praxis” ring threateningly in my head, but I’m not yet so evolved that I don’t feel a pull. Musings on the disorganized self—on how we are new all the time, and not just because of all the fresh skin coming up under the dead, personhood in the end so frighteningly flexible—are always going to compel me, I’m afraid, but that goes double for musings on the disorganized self which posit that Taylor Swift still thinks Amy Dunne made some points.

Because on “mirrorball” Taylor is for once not hamfistedly addressing some “hater”, in the quiet and the lack of embarrassing martyrdom it actually offers an interesting answer to the complaint that Taylor is insufficiently self-aware. This criticism emerges often in tandem with claiming to have discovered some crack in the chassis of Swift’s public self, revealing the sweetness to be insincere. My instinct is to dismiss this more or less out of hand as just a mutation of the school of thought that presumes all work by women must be autobiography. And, regardless, it is made altogether laughable by the fact that anyone actually paying attention has known since at least Speak Now, a delightful record populated by the most appalling, horrible characters imaginable, and all of them written by a twenty year old Taylor Swift, that this woman is a pure weirdo. To accuse Taylor Swift of lacking in self-awareness is a reductive misunderstanding, I think, of artifice. Being a fake bitch takes work. Which is to say, if we agree that her public self is a calculated performance—eliding the fact that all public selves are a performance to avoid getting too in the weeds yadda yadda— why, then, should it be presumed that performance is rooted in ignorance? Would it not make more sense that, in fact, someone able to contort themselves so ably into various shapes for public consumption would have a certain understanding of the basic materials they’re working with and concealing? Taylor Swift, in a decade and a half of fame, has presented herself from inside a number of distinct packages. The gangly teenager draped in long curls like climbing wisteria who wrote lyrics down her arms in glitter paint gave way to red lipstick, a Diet Coke campaign, and bad dancing at awards shows. There was the period where she was surrounded constantly by a gaggle of models, then suddenly wasn’t anymore, and that rough interlude with the bleached hair. The whole Polaroid thing. Last year she boldly revealed she’s a democrat. Now it’s the end of the world and she’s got frizzy bangs and flannels and muted little piano songs. Perhaps this endless shape-shifting contradicts or undermines, for some, the pose of tender authenticity which has remained static through each phase, but that doesn’t mean she hasn’t been doing it all on purpose the entire time. I’ve never been a natural, all I do is try, try, try...

In the Disney+ documentary—which, in order to watch, I had to grudgingly give the vile mouse seven dollars, because the login information that I’d begged off of my little sister didn’t work and I was too embarrassed to bring it up a second time—Taylor referred to “mirrorball” as the first time on the album where she explicitly addressed the pandemic, referring to the lyrics that start, “And they called off the circus, Burned the disco down,” and end with “I’m still on that tightrope, I’m still trying everything to get you laughing at me,” which actually did made me laugh, feeling sort of warmly foolish and a little fond, because it never would have occurred to me that she was trying to be literal there. I suppose we really do all contain multitudes. Hate that.

#taylor swift #folklore

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alightwhendarknessfell · 5 years ago

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Dear Andy,

I have debated posting this for a while, mostly because I wanted to get it right. With the WSTW re-record release approaching and things coming to light about the actions of a former member I feel that now is as good a time as ever. I don’t know if you’ll read this, but it is something that over the past year I have wanted to do. I have been unfair and overcritical and at times, downright mean. I was judging you and your actions based on my own interpretations. The events of the past few weeks have shown me that those interpretations were wrong. So here it goes…

I have been a fan of not only Black Veil, but of you going back to 2008-2009, when everything was still on Myspace. I vividly remember eagerly awaiting the release of WSTW and making my mom drive me to the local Hot Topic to pick it up the day it came out. I remember going to my first show in a small little bar in Raleigh, NC that sadly is no more, and I remember being dressed in war paint along with my best friends. I know that it may not seem like it, but I to this day consider myself a fan. The band that you created was pivotal for my teenage years and to this day the community you helped build means the world to me.

I will admit that it was my passion and love for that community that was the root of my criticism. Despite what you or others reading this may think, I do not hate you, not at all. There have been times that I felt let down, cheated, and disappointed as a fan, but the events of the past few weeks have really opened my eyes. I will get that to that point, but I did not and do not hate you. As a person I speak up, at times when I probably shouldn’t, but I do when I feel strongly about something. I have certainly made the mistake too many times of speaking before I had all the information or trusting my own judgement on things, I knew nothing about. I am trying to get better at not doing that.

I can see how some of the things I have said, condoned, or even given a platform to were mean, uncalled for, hurtful, and regrettably untrue at times. I have had this blog and been in this fandom for over a decade. I was 13-14 years old when I first made this blog, and I am almost 25 now. I look back on some of the things I said, and I deeply regret them. In 2015 this blog was accidentally deleted, and honestly it was probably for the best that some of my earlier posts are gone. Regardless, I have let myself get carried away or swept up in drama perpetuated by others (and sometimes myself). I have said things, even in the past few years that I shouldn’t have, things that could be hurtful. While my intention was never to hurt you, I think it’s safe to say that myself and others lose sight of the impact of our words when they are said behind a screen, to people we think will never read them. As a teenager or even in my early 20’s I didn’t think that someone ‘famous’ would see what I wrote, surely it would all get lost in the sea of tweets, posts and comments.

That does not make saying those things right.

I would like to personally apologize to you for not considering the fact that you might see some of those words. That you are a person with emotions just like everyone else, that could be hurt by them. I am sorry for letting others get away with saying cruel things, even if I pushed back on them or didn’t directly comment. I would be lying if I said that the fame (or infamy), status and notoriety I got for my words didn’t affect my actions. It’s sad, but true that often times more attention comes out of negativity than kindness.

As someone who has been bullied and suffers from mental illnesses, I should have left some things unsaid. I do not know you personally, I only know what you have shared. Seeing you speak about your own struggles with mental illness over the recent years has really given me a much-needed reality check. I have related to some of the things you’ve talked about more than you know. Some of the things that others and I have been critical of were clearly not the result of malicious intent but of your own hardships that we were blind to.

I think people forget, and I know I did, that when this band took off you were just a teenager yourself. To think that at 18 or 19 someone in your situation would act ‘right’ all of the time and never make mistakes is ridiculous. Not only were you a kid trying to figure the world out, but I think it has become clear that you were dealing with people who used you for their own selfish gains. That would be hard for anyone, regardless of their age.

I have never dealt with addiction on a personal level, but I emphasize with whatever pain you had to endure in your own struggles with it. You are right when you said that no one sees themselves becoming an alcoholic at twenty years old, and I am sorry for not being more sympatric in the past. One of my biggest regrets in all of this was hearing that during the time that I was probably the harshest to you (around 2016) was when you were struggling the most with trying to be sober.

I am happy that you are sober, I am glad that you were able to make it out of that cycle that consumes so many people. I hope that others who are struggling are inspired by your dedication to living a healthier life. In an industry where it is too easy to fall back into toxic behaviors and coping mechanisms, I am glad you have found strength.

I would like to speak on why I have been so negative in the past (and at times hateful). As I said, what you created in Black Veil meant a lot to me and so many others. This band has been a part of my life for so long and I have met some of the most amazing people through it. I have met people that I can honestly say I love because of this community. This fan base gave me a home when I felt alone and gave me something to identify with as a kid. That’s why I started cosplaying as you, sure it’s a hobby of mine and aesthetically I am a fan of 80’s glam metal, but it was mostly to pay tribute. I am not a ‘traditional’ artist in the sense of paintings and drawings, my media is makeup and costume. The WSTW/STWOF era is what I consider my era as a fan, the one that I identified with the most.

I admit, I was upset when it ended. That’s a stupid reason to be upset, obviously all bands change and there’s nothing wrong with that, but that’s how I felt. The source of my jadedness was not the adoption of a new look, it was deeper than that. Around 2016 was when I had the most animosity because I saw what I thought at the time was you ‘giving up’ on Black Veil. I felt like the ‘old’ fans weren’t wanted anymore and like most people, I felt the need to protect and defend what I loved.

With the introduction of your solo act, it felt like the community I cared so much about was being destroyed and I couldn’t understand why you were doing that. I was blinded by my own judgements. What came off as hate was really just hurt. I know I am not the only ‘OG’ fan who felt that way, and I took that to mean I was justified. In hindsight it is clear, none of us had any idea what was really going on with the band and certain individuals who were bringing it down. At various times it seemed like you hated the old era and as a fan who stood there from the beginning that felt like a gut punch. I let my own feelings make me bitter, and that was wrong. I let others fuel that bitterness, including ones who were actively stabbing you in the back.

I remember around 2012 I made a very critical post of an article you did in Kerrang talking about your struggles with alcohol. I criticized you for not saying more and even said that what you shared was nothing in comparison to a former member’s struggles with addiction. When I received this DM from that individual saying that they approved of my words and that I was ‘spot on’ I felt embolden. I deeply, deeply regret letting such a toxic and horrible person influence me. That post I wrote was wrong, ignorant and immature. That post was one that got deleted in 2015, but I still regret having written something so heartless.

(screen shot is from 2012, this was a Twitter DM from said individual. I did not share that post with them, they found it on their own and contacted me. )

I see now that you were not turning your back on Black Veil, you were trying to save it. The interview you did with Ryan Downey brought me to tears. I cannot imagine what it feels like to have something you spent your whole life fighting for be taken over by an abusive, evil, and selfish person. I feel like I have gained a better perspective of where you and the band were at over the past three weeks and I am sorry you are not free to say more. I am sorry for defending this person because they did not deserve a single fan.

Some who takes advantage of another’s passion and youth because they lack the creativity and ability to do it on their own is stealing, plain and simple. I am sorry that you have been tethered to such a horrible person for so long. I deeply admire your perseverance, strength and determination in taking back what that person tried to take. To be willing to destroy something you love and care about to keep it from the hands of evil is an incredible act of dedication to it.

I would like to end this with a few more things. I know I have been critical of people that you love. I do admit I have taken those criticisms too far at times where they crossed into bullying. I am sorry to Juliet for being unfairly harsh, I am not a hateful person, but I have allowed myself to act that way. There are certainly things that I have said that I stand by, and there are things that I may not agree with or understand, but I think there are ways that I can voice my own opinions respectfully, without being mean.

In an ideal world I would love to sit down with you, or anyone else I may have hurt and have a discussion about it, but hopefully this gets my point across well enough. I do not intend to delete my blog or stop accepting posts (although I will try and make an effort to get rid of toxic posts. It will just take a while to sort through them all). While I can’t promise to never say anything critical again, I can promise to stop the hatefulness. I am promising to make a real effort to clean up some of the toxicity towards you that is unfair and unwarranted. To facilitate a more respectful, yet still honest and open dialogue. I do take pride in my blog being one of the last places of discussion and community for fans, but perhaps without the cruelty that been allowed to fester. If you are someone reading this who comes here to be mean and hateful, I’m sorry but it has to stop. This was never intended to be a ‘hate blog’, but I will openly admit I understand why people thought it was.

If you take anything away from this, or if you even read this, please let it be this. I consider myself a supporter of you and what you have created. I want nothing more than to see you succeed and be happy. I hope that you are able to overcome the struggles in your life and that you are able to find meaning and true happiness if you have not already. Although it may not appear so, I have always routed for you. It may seem like nothing you do is ever good enough for the fans (or at least some of them) but for me at least that is not true. You have been given an impossible task of trying to please thousands of people, of never being allowed to fuck up, and having past transgressions brought up again and again. For that I am sorry, and I am sorry for having played a part in that.

You deserve to be treated as a person, not as an object or persona. I whole heartedly believe you are a decent person, who maybe has flaws and room for improvement, but so do I and so does everyone else. I do believe there are fundamentally bad people out there, people who deserve the karma they have coming. Those are the people that purposefully hurt, lie, manipulate, cheat and deceive others for personal gain. I think especially in the past few weeks we have been shown who those people are. Yet, I don’t believe you are one of those people.

To everyone out there who is reading this, please give people the chance to change. Be okay with admitting when you are wrong. Allow people to grow and become better. Over the past year my mentality and perspective on the world has shifted dramatically. Two years ago I couldn’t have written this post, but as I enter my mid-twenties I am able to look back and say ‘this is not the person I want to be, this is not the person I want people to think I am’. So all I can do is admit my shortcomings, apologize, and be better.

Andy, if you read this and made it to the end, thank you. You are in no way obligated to respond to or accept any of what I said. I just wanted to put this out there with the hopes that it in some way, or that some part of this, lessened some of the hurt I regrettably have caused.

- Ren <3

P.S the banner of my blog is not calling you or the band trash. It’s a fan term for when someone is really into something. Saying “I am ______ trash” means you love that thing. I know it’s weird, but it’s supposed to be an inside joke for other fans, it’s a positive thing. So, when I say “I am 100% 2010 Black Veil trash” I am talking about myself being a massive fan of that era. I don’t think you or the band is trashy, if I did, I wouldn’t be spending money on tickets, merch and shoving blue contacts into my eyes for 10+ years.

#Andy Biersack #Andy Black #Black Veil Brides #BVB #alightwhendarknessfell

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axwalker · 5 years ago

Text

Now and Then 4: Unrequited

I’m participating in @wackydrabbles and the prompt this week is # 45: “I don’t hate you” and will appear in bold.

Synopsis: Synopsis: The story of Alexis’s and Drake’s friendship since they met when they were 10 years old until they become roommates after college. (AU)

In this chapter: Lexie tries to reconnect with her father while she deals with her feelings for Drake.

Warning: Teen angst, A very bad father, Unrequited love. THE CONTENT OF THIS BLOG IS NOT SUITABLE FOR UNDER 18

Word count: 1700 🙈

Tagging wacky drabblers: @texaskitten30 @bebepac @pedudley @sirbeepsalot @burnsoslow @ravenpuff02 @loveellamae @oofchoices @emceesynonymroll

Permatag: @ac27dj @twinkle-320 @kimmiedoo5 @marshmallowsandfire @mskaneko @pug-bitch @princessleac1

2012. (17 years old)

Drake parked the Jeep that he had spent all summer repairing in front of Lex's house. While he waited for her, he turned on the radio and raised the volume at AC/DC's You Shook Me All Night Long. On his rear mirror, he saw Lexie leaving her house with a cherry Pop-Tart in her mouth, and her backpack half-opened; she was tying up her hair in a messy bun as she approached his car.

"The alarm didn't sound again?" Drake asked teasingly when she got into the car.

"It did." She chewed the last bit of Pop-Tart. "I got in an argument with my mom. My dad wants to see me, but she doesn't want me to go."

Drake frowned. "Out of the blue? Isn't that a little weird?"

"It's for my birthday, Drake."

"Lex, your birthday was more than two weeks ago."

"He was busy. He said he tried to call me, but you know this thing never works," Lexie said, pointing at her old cellphone.

Call me, Maybe start playing on the radio. She smiled mischievously.

Drake rolled his eyes, "Don't you dare, Lex."

Lexie looked at him mockingly and raised the volume.

"Just don't do the dance, please don't do the dance," he pleaded, knowing that it was pointless.

"Do you mean this dance?" she grinned as she sang along with the radio, dancing and mimicking the song's dance moves with her hands.

"You're such a dork." Drake chuckled.

Lexie laughed. "Come on, Walker, I know you want to too." She kept singing. "Hey, I just met you, and this is crazy …" She threw Drake a mischievous look and pointed finger guns at him.

"… But here's my number, so call me maybe," Drake talked more than sang as he shook his head smiling. They both burst into laughter.

When the song ended, Drake lowered the volume and asked, "Are you going to see him?"

"My dad? Well … maybe …" She bit her lip.

He saw the gesture. "What?"

"I thought that maybe you could come with me?"

"Hard pass."

"Please, Drake! I really want to see him, but it's been a while. Plus, Cindy and Sean will be there too, they make me so nervous." Lexie grimaced at the thought of her stepmother and stepbrother.

Drake had never met George O'Brien. In their six years of friendship, Lexie's father had called her for her birthday a total of three times -always late- and she rarely saw him. Drake loathed the guy, but for some reason, Lexie was desperate to reconnect with him. Drake couldn't understand, if Bianca came back, he wouldn't even give her the time of day.

"If Elena doesn't want you to see him, she must have her reasons," Drake said as he parked the car.

"Dad was a crappy husband, but he loves me; he wants to have a relationship with me." She sighed. "You don't have to come if you don't want to, though."

Drake detected the hint of vulnerability in her voice. "Don't worry, Lex; I'll be there. When is it?"

"Tonight," Alexis replied as they walked to the school.

"Shit! I had a date with Haley."

The mention of Drake's girlfriend made Lexie nauseous. She had been unsuccessfully fighting her feelings for Drake for over a year. As much as she tried, she couldn't avoid the flip on her stomach when she saw him, or her heart racing every time he smiled at her.

"I know. I tried to change the day, but he refused."

"It's okay, Lex. I'll talk to Haley; I can always find ways to make it up to her later." Drake smiled.

"Eww! Disgusting, Walker”.

"Drake!" Haley yelled with her sickly-sweet tone of voice

Alexis rolled her eyes. “And that's my cue to leave.”

“You could give her a chance, you know? She’s nice.”

“Right. See you at lunch?"

"Yeah.”

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The rest of the morning passed quickly. At lunch, Lexie threw a glance towards her regular table in the cafeteria. Liam, Olivia, and Max were talking while Haley and Drake were kissing each other. Alexis wondered if there ever came out for air. She was about to leave the cafeteria with an empty stomach when Max yelled her name.

Shit. Lexie waved back and sat next to Max across the two happy couples. She slammed her tray on the table, crashing it against Drake's.

"Is everything alright, Lexie?" Liam asked.

"Yeah," Lexie answered angrily.

Olivia and Max exchanged a look. They knew perfectly what the problem was.

"Penelope is having a party Sunday night. Would you like to come? She has a pool," Haley said, smiling.

"Sunday is GOT night, and we all watch it at Li's house, sorry," Lexie said dismissively.

Drake glared at her.

"You can come too; It's actually pretty fun," Liam invited Haley before Olivia could kick him under the table.

"What's GOT?" Haley asked.

Drake was about to answer, but Lexie beat him to it. "Are you serious? Game of Thrones. Best show ever," she replied, annoyed.

"Oh! I hate it!' Haley grimaced. "So much blood and killing. Totally a boy's show."

Lexie snapped at her, "I guess Liv and I didn't realize that we needed a penis to watch a TV show. Maybe, you can give us a list of the things girls are supposed to like." When she saw Haley blushing embarrassed, Lexie knew she had gone too far. She bit her lip, ashamed of herself.

Drake shot her a furious look and stood up from the table. "Come on, Haley. We have Algebra in 10 minutes."

Oliva smirked. "Remind me not to piss you off."

"What? She was sexist!" Lexie defended herself.

"Right, that's why you scolded her, feminism," Maxwell laughed. “Nothing to do with Dr-” Max stopped talking when Lexie elbowed him. Liam didn’t know anything.

"Why do you dislike her so much?" Liam asked before finishing his cheeseburger.

"I don't. I have to go; I have class too." She left in a hurry. She was feeling angry and frustrated, specially with herself.

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After class, she ran to the locker rooms to change for Gym when she stumbled upon Haley.

"I was looking for you," Haley said, tucking her hair behind her ear.

"I'm sorry, Haley I have Gym like in five minutes," Lexie replied, trying to be more agreeable than she was at lunch.

"It's going to be fast. I just wanted to tell you that I'd like it if we could be friends. I know you hate me, but I think you're cool, and it would be best for Drake if we all got along."

Haley was a tall, green-eyed gorgeous blond. As if that wasn't threatening enough, she was kind and friendly too.

Lexie sighed. "I don't hate you. I'm sorry about this morning, that wasn't about you." Or not entirely.

"It's fine." Haley gave her a perfect smile. "I know Drake loves Game of Thrones. Would you explain it to me? So, I can watch it with him?"

Lexie suppressed her urge to roll her eyes. "You don't have to like it only because he does, you know?" Trying to make amends for her earlier behavior, she added, "but, if you want to, yeah, I'll explain it."

Haley almost jumped. "Thank you, Lex."

"Uhm, only Drake calls me Lex," she said but added apologetically, "but you can call me Lexie if you want though, all my friends do."

"Got it, thanks, Lexie. I better run; I have class too." Haley waved her god-bye.

Lexie was about to enter the gym when she got a text message from her father. It turned out that he couldn't have dinner that night, but he asked her to go to his lawyer's office and sign some papers related to her grandfather's inheritance next week. That was the real reason he wanted to see her, not to reconnect with her. Elena was right about him.

After typing a quick text to Drake telling him that he was free for his date, Lexie decided to skip Gym, she wasn't in the mood. She walked around for a while until she reached the football field. She sat on the stands with a framed photo of her father in her hands, she had planned to give it to him that night as a gift. In the picture, she was 8 years old and was looking at her father adoringly as they decorated a Christmas tree. Lexie hated to cry but couldn't help herself. Everything in her life was upside down. A father that didn't love her and a crush that would never be anything else. Lexie was well aware that Drake only saw her as his best friend.

"Lex," Drake said, startling her.

Lexie tried to wipe the tears off her face so he wouldn't see them. "What are you doing here? I thought you had a date."

"You're worried about Haley now?" He said, handing her a Coke, her comfort drink.

"Hey! I apologized!" Lexie exclaimed after taking a sip of the drink.

Drake chuckled. "Yeah, only because she went looking for you."

"Can we count this as a win? I apologized to one of your girlfriends, that's unheard of."

"You're so damn stubborn that yes; we'll count this as a win." He couldn't explain it, but Drake sort of liked how possessive Lexie was with him.

They sat in silence for a moment. Drake had seen her crying when he sat next to her, but he knew his best friend better than anyone, she needed a little space before talking about her problems.

After a while, he finally asked, "Are you okay, Lex?"

"Uh-huh," she replied.

"Lex, look at me."

Her big brown eyes looked up to him. Drake's heart tightened with her sadness. "He's not worth it. You know it, right?" He put his arm around her shoulders. “If he doesn’t appreciate to have a daughter like you, then he’s a piece of crap.”

"He's my dad. He's supposed to love me no matter what," Lexie cried despite herself. "If he doesn't, who will?"

"I'm always going to be here, Lex. No matter what."

She looked at him. "You say that now, but you will fall in love and forget all about me."

Drake raised her chin with his fingers, she almost melted when she met his deep gaze. "Never. No matter what happens you’ll always be my best friend Lex." He placed a friendly kiss on her forehead. "I swear.”

“Me too,” she answered sadly as she placed her head on his shoulder.

#axwalker writes #drake x alexis #now and then #wacky drabbles

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