#the only one I didn’t watch was 3x01 because I watched that yesterday

[7yearsofdele]

I’ve watched almost all of Season 3 in one day. No regrets.

#the only one I didn’t watch was 3x01 because I watched that yesterday #And I knew what was coming at the end #ouat rewatch #ouat #once upon a time

[minikate--24-05]

Ok but i really want to know about those stories for another time:3 (when you've got the time ofcourse)

Dear anon, sadly I’ll be studying and sitting exams until the end of June, which is when I’ll talk about 2 of the “stories for another day” because I wanna get the right evidence to support my theories. I will tag them as “anon”, “ask” and “story for another day” so that you can find them.

however, I can’t just leave you hanging after yesterday’s post, so today I’m gonna tell you about one of the stories, since my research is already done. it’s about the “firing” of NCIS writers and directors from the first seasons.

I know you haven’t watched the first seasons, but have you watched Ziva’s seasons? Bishop’s? I have, and let me tell you, they hit different. the tone of the first 2 seasons is different than the others. all NCIS feel like NCIS of course, but those 2 hit different. I noticed it 4 years ago and decided to look for an explanation. was it Kate? she was the only thing that changed from the first seasons towards the others. or was she?

being the math/science geek that I am, I decided to see if there had been “Kibbs writers” or “Kibbs directors”. that is, that Donald Bellisario went only to certain people when he wanted to provide Kibbs content. I wondered: 1) if they existed (you know, maybe all the writers and directors worked with every ship) and 2) had my first hypothesis been true, did the Kibbs team leave after season 2? did they continue working on the show writing for a different ship?

to do so I SUBJECTIVELY (which I know isn’t the ideal way to proceed, but what can I do) selected the episodes that I considered to be “Kibbs content”. they were: 1x01, 1x02, 1x03, 1x04, 1x06, 1x07, 1x09, 1x10, 1x11, 1x12, 1x13, 1x14, 1x18, 1x19, 1x23, 2x03, 2x06, 2x09, 2x10, 2x13, 2x16, 2x19, 2x23, 3x01, 3x02. I have to admit that nowadays I consider 1x22 as Kibbs content too because there’s a scene where Gibbs is hooking Kate up to some cables or whatever (look I’m tired and trilingual so let’s skip the proper vocabulary lesson) which is basically foreplay. back then I didn’t include it but bear with me and keep in mind that it was directed by Alan J. Levi (this will all make sense in a minute).

after selecting the episodes, I wrote down their writers and directors. then, I calculated the % of Kibbs episodes each of them had written/directed and paid attention to the top 3/5 and the most Kibbs writer and director. after that, I searched for ALL Kibbs writers/directors in the rest of NCIS episodes, to see if they had written more episodes. this was done in 2016 so I believe the 13th season was coming out. I have not updated the work.

the results were:

WRITERS: there were 16 Kibbs writers. the top 5 were: Donald Bellisario (flashback to yesterday’s post when I said he was writing for Kibbs hehe), John C. Kelley, George Schenck and Frank Cardea (I think they’re still a writing duo on the show? hardcore) and Frank Military. Frank Military wrote 15% of the total of Kibbs episodes and didn’t write any other episodes; that makes 100% of his episodes “Kibbs content” episodes. in this house we stan Frank Military. 

4 of them had regular work after season 2.

1 of them had regular work until season 4.

2 of them had minor work until season 4.

9 of them only worked in seasons 1-2.

56% of the Kibbs writers from seasons 1 and 2 never worked on the show again.

DIRECTORS: there were 12 Kibbs directors. the top 3 were: Alan J. Levi (remember him?), Dennis Smith and James Whitmore, Jr. Alan J. Levi directed 15% of the total of Kibbs episodes (19% if we include 1x22) and he has directed 1 other episode (1x22); that makes 80% of his episodes “Kibbs content” episodes (unless we take 1x22 into account, then, that’s 100%!). in this house we admire Alan J. Levi.

3 of them had regular work after season 2.

1 of them had regular work until season 4.

8 of them only worked in seasons 1-2.

66% of the directors from seasons 1 and 2 never worked on the show again.

*Note: I included the season 4 deadline too because that’s when Donald Bellisario stepped down as showrunner (like I said, he likes starting things and then leaving them to someone else) and I wanted to see if he was a factor in the absence of the “Kibbs team”. I think it’s safe to say that he was not.

now, the conclusions. 1) yes, there were “Kibbs writers and directors”. 2) as you can see more than half of them ONLY worked on the first 2 seasons of the show. I know we can’t exactly say they were fired, but, if half of the ship is dead, you don’t need them anymore, right? 

I realize that it’s not exactly “half of the writers and directors from the first seasons”, it’s “half of the Kibbs writers and directors”, but if we look at the eps I selected, that’s almost the entire 1st season and half of the second. so no wonder the rest of the seasons feel different, a lot of writers and directors left and a lot of new writers and directors came!

the essence is still the same because Donald Bellisario stayed for 2 more years and must’ve taught them. but season 3 starts with Gibbs (and the rest of the team) mourning Kate. he’s not making jokes anymore, he calls people by their first names and offers them coffee, he wants to put roses on the rooftop, he tells Ari to straight up kill him. he’s sad. that’s the Gibbs the new writers and directors first meet and that’s the one they stuck with until today. no more cocky and dirty jokes. no more flirting like he used to. and now smiles are a rare occurrence (in case you didn’t know, anon, Gibbs used to smile a LOT when Kate was around).

so there you have it, anon! I feel like not a lot of people know this, but yeah, the ending of season 2 meant change for the actors, for the fans, and for the writing/directing team.

tl;dr: during the first 2 NCIS seasons there were a group of writers and directors that mostly wrote and directed Kibbs content episodes, and half of them didn’t work on the show after the ending of season 2. the rest of the show feels different because the writing room changed.

IN CASE YOU’RE INTERESTED IN THE OTHER “STORIES FOR ANOTHER DAY”: I will make the posts at the end of June and tag them as “anon”, “ask” and “story for another day”. since that is a bit complicated for you guys, let me know if you want me to tag you in the posts so that you don’t have to search my blog for days.

I’m very happy with how this thing has been received (thanks to the anon!!), so thank you guys for the support. the Kibbs fandom is awesome!

#kibbs is love kibbs is life #story for another day #ask #anon #these are giving me life honestly #it's been miserable with the way our uni is treating us #ncis #analysis #haters will say it's lame that I did statistics on something like this #but to quote our dear hugh laurie #the great enemy in this world is apathy #and I was living when working out that math and seeing it all come together lmao #I was like #iT MAKES SENSE #kibbs #me

[ladyandherbooks]

So season 6 truly was divisive for Voltron fans and in my opinion I think it backfired for the creators. I started watching this show in October last year and despite not being a sci fi fan I was hooked. The characters were so diverse, complex and interesting and I couldn't choose a favourite. That all changed however when I saw 3x01 when Lotor was first introduced. He was so interesting and complicated and I loved that he had female generals who he was never physically attracted to. It was then that I first joined the fandom where I not only read fanfic and looked at fan art but I also learnt about Lotor and his previous incarnations and I hoped that, due to how complex he was and how the writers had handled writing complex emotions and character arcs for the paladins that Lotor was going to have an amazing arc where he would grow and develop as time went on. For awhile he did and we learnt about his relationship with his parents and the abuse and trauma he sufferes because of them and how he, being half Galran faced a great deal of prejudice and abuse from his own people. Then season 5 aired and Lotor really got his chance to shine and show a different side of himself and you know what, it was great and set up so much potential for the rest of the show. From romance, to Honerva, a possible friendship with the paladins, his role as emperor, the list just goes on and the potential was endless and exciting. But the writers had other ideas and that decision caused a great deal of anger and heartache within this corner of the fandom. I'm not sure why they chose this route and if any Lotor fan ever gets the chance to interview them I'd love to know why they chose this storyline rather than trying to portray him as a morally grey anti hero. I also wonder, given that this script would have been written a one or two years ago, if they considered or thought about what Lotor would mean to his fans and what he represented. To them he was a villain in the same vein as Azula but to us he was different and it varied from fan to fan. Did they realise later on that he was very important and whether they liked it or not, had come to be a beacon of hope for some fans of the show. Lotor meant many different things to us, he represented so many things, from an abuse survivor who was doing everything in his power to not become like his father, to a positive representation of the struggles of being biracial, to scholars in the pursuit of knowledge, to people who are lonely and just want to have a connection with someone and to be understood and many more.

Having a fakeout redemption arc required them to show us Lotor's vulnerabilities, his trauma, his wants and desires and in doing so people were drawn to him, saw similarities in him to themselves and their pasts. They wanted us to like him so that when he turned on the paladins it would hurt and make us question everything that we know about him.

But that is where it backfired. We liked him as he was, morally grey and willing to cross moral lines but that just made us root for him more. We had come to love him so when the tables turned and they tried to simplify his character and his motivations it did not leave us questioning Lotor but the writers for destroying a complex character and reverting him to be more reminiscent of his 80s counterpart. In their desire to create a shocking, bet you didn't see that coming twist they shoehorned in an out of character backstory that did not match up with what they had shown us of Lotor before and what he was capable of becoming. It was rushed, unbelievable and such a disservice to Lotor and his story that left us heartbroken and seething.

They lost us yesterday and while some of us will continue watching the show it won't be the same. In destroying Lotor and possibly ending his life they killed the hope and joy that many of us felt watching the show. Voltron changed for us and we lost faith in them as storytellers and that, not Lotor's betrayal and death is the greatest tragedy and shock that they could have created. They did themselves a great disservice as had they given Lotor an ending that truly reflected his personal journey we would have been there till the end. But they didn't and they lost us and that is truly the saddest thing to come from season 6.

#vld spoilers #season 6 spoilers #lotor #dreamworks #it's just sad really #so many amazing #talented and creative people in this corner of the fandom #now they have left canon for fanon

[halsteadpd]

When I Look At You

A/N: So this takes place during 3x01 but for the purpose of this one-shot, Jay DOESN’T get kidnapped/beat. Happy reading :)

(Using the song When I Look At You by Miley Cyrus)

He waited hours outside the club for her to come out. Ever since she fell off the rails, he had her phone pinged. When it slowed down during the day, he would bring up the tab where he was tracking her movements—it was the only way he knew that she was still alive.

Her mother was never any help. He had gone down to her bar a few times asking if she knew where Erin was, but she would always shoo him away and tell him that she only needed to be around family. Sometimes at the end of the work day, he would go up to the third floor of her apartment building hoping to see her, but he always left disappointed when the door never opened.

The sun had began to set and the blue sky soon turned orange, inevitably going black. The air was still warm and comfortable and when he looked up, he could pinpoint the stars on Orion’s belt. He watched many intoxicated people make their way out of the bar and into the backseat of cabs or into the vehicle of their designated driver—glad to see none of them went behind the wheel themselves because he wasn’t sure if he could risk arresting them and miss a chance at seeing her.   

His eyes burned from the lack of sleep and his bed was calling his name but this was the closest he had been to her in months and he would risk dry, bloodshot eyes and a headache the next day if it meant getting to hear her voice again. He retreated back to the car once—knowing he would have to move it in order for her to get hers out. The wind had begun to whip and he stupidly forgot to bring a sweater. Once inside, he pulled out his phone and dialled her number. It rang a couple of times before he was sent to voicemail and with a sigh, he hung up and plugged his phone in to charge.

Resting his head against the seat, he found himself nodding off but once again forced himself out of the car in fear of somehow missing her. He debated many times of going into that club and carrying her out—kicking and screaming—but decided against it because if he did that, she would definitely never speak to him again.

The next time he looked at his watch, it was nearing 4:30 and he was debating leaving because he had work in a few hours. But she couldn’t stay in there forever. Could she? He could hear the streets around him getting noisier as the City of Chicago woke up to start the day. Sirens could be heard in the distance and he found himself muttering a prayer under his breath like he usually did when he heard those familiar wails.

Finally—when the sun had risen—she stumbled out of the club. She was surrounded by a group of people he had never seen before. She didn’t notice him until she slipped her sunglasses over her eyes and turned to face her car.

“Let me guess, you had Mouse ping my phone?” She still had the sass and confidence in her tone of voice that he grew to love, but this wasn’t the time for him to fall for her again.

“You know Voight put you on three weeks furlough right? In case you change your mind. That ends tomorrow.” He thought he was going to get through to her when she grabbed him by his arm and pushed him out of earshot of the group behind them. The feeling of her cool hands on his skin felt good—it felt real. That she was here, she was in his presence, and he could bring her back.

“What do you want, Jay?”

“I want to hear you say it.”

“Say what?”

“That you’re no longer my partner. That you’re throwing it all away. Look me in the eye and tell me it’s over.”

“Are you done talking?”

“I don’t know who you are, but tell Lindsay she made me a better cop. If you ever see her again.” And just like that, the conversation he wanted to have that would bring her back, did the exact opposite.

The feeling of his skin on her fingertips sent electricity through her body. She couldn’t remember the last time she touched him, let alone saw him but the way his muscles filled out his shirt and how his beard was growing in made him look as handsome as ever. He wants her to come back, but she can’t. She’s disappointed the only family she’s ever known, ever had. There’s no going back. 

It was easier to give him attitude through her sunglasses, when he couldn’t see how red or teary her eyes were and when he pulled them off her face, she could feel her facade dissolving. The pained look in his eyes made her want to drown herself in alcohol all over again. He was the one good thing in her life and she even managed to somehow fuck that up too. She couldn’t keep hurting him.

When he turned away from her, it took everything within herself to not call out to him, to not fall against him seeking his warmth and comfort. So she watched him walk away and she had a feeling in the pit of her stomach that this was his last attempt at getting her back.

When she got home, she immediately collapsed into bed and pulled the covers up and over her body. Her head was pounding and she would do anything to cop a few percocets or some oxy to take the edge off. Somehow, she had managed to fall into a restless sleep, waking up every twenty minutes drenched in sweat. Deciding her body was going through withdrawal, she went out to her living room in search of something—anything that her mother had left behind. But Erin knew her mother, and there was no chance that anything would be left behind by that woman.

Searching through her medicine cabinet, she found some Tylenol. She knew it wouldn’t do anything but she took three pills and swallowed them down quickly without water. As she waited for the high to take over her body, her brain replayed her earlier conversation with him. His voice lacked the confidence and ego it usually carried, instead, it was borderline broken. His eyes looked more green today, no doubt due to the army green shirt he wore. They concealed pain, pain she caused. The thought made her nauseous and soon she was emptying her gut into the kitchen sink. She dry heaved for a few minutes before making her way back to bed, falling asleep once again.

When she woke up again, it was dark and a quick look at the time on her phone told her it was half past nine. She made her way into the ensuite and she stood under the steady stream of hot water in her shower, letting it burn her skin and heal her tired, achy muscles.

After stepping out of the shower, she quickly threw on an outfit and made her way out to the living room. Her mother was reclined against the couch, a cigarette in one hand and a glass of alcohol in the other. Her eyes were closed—almost as if she was dead—but the second she heard someone approach, her eyes popped open.

“Hey baby! You were sleeping when I got here but I called all your friends and thought we could have a party!” Erin looked at her mother with a hard, stoic expression on her face. “Baby, what’s wrong? Here, have some of this. I took 40 bucks out of your purse because they guy tried to rip me off.” Bunny placed two white pills in Erin’s hand forcefully. All Erin could do was scoff before turning back towards her bedroom. She sat down on her bed forcefully, inspecting the pills in her hand. Her body craved it, whatever it was. It was her lifeline.

She placed the pills on her nightstand before making her way back out towards the group of people, hoping to take the edge off with alcohol instead.

‘Cause there is no guarantee

That this life is easy

She was drunk.

Drunk beyond measure.

Everyone around her were laughing and having a good time but no matter how much alcohol she threw down her throat, her mind was still dark. But the overbearing thoughts in her mind were anything but dark. Her thoughts revolved around the greatest light she had ever had.

She needed to get those thoughts out of her mind. He was done with her. There was no going back to him.

So she took a shot.

Yeah when my world is falling apart

When there's no light

To break up the dark

That's when I, I

I look at you

She can vividly remember the light in his eyes and his lopsided grin as her told her about his grandfather’s cabin in Wisconsin. That felt like a lifetime ago yet the memory made it feel like it was just yesterday. His eyes were more blue that day, similar to the blue shirt he wore. There was just something extremely appealing of growing old with him, having his kids and retiring to a house in the country where it’s quiet. It’s a life she sees herself living.

But then again, she fucked up.

He’s done with her.

So she took another shot.

When the waves are flooding the shore

And I can't find my way home anymore

That's when I, I

I look at you

She was barely steady on her feet. The floor was floating and looking down the stairs made her head spin. She turned around slowly and instead went towards the elevator. She waited—leaning against the wall for support—as the elevator made it to her floor. She clicked the M button a few times before the door was closing in front of her.

As the elevator began to move down, she lost her balance and collapsed against the railing. The feeling inside the car made her nauseous and she was running out towards the front door the second the doors opened again.

It was pouring rain and there were puddles on the sidewalk and the street. She rested her right hand on the brick wall of her building and bent over, expelling her body of the poison. When she was sure she was done, she straightened her back and looked up into the night sky. The dark clouds covered the stars but the light from the full moon was still shining through slightly.

There were no cars on the street driving by and when she patted at her pockets, she realized that she had left her phone upstairs. Sighing, she forced her feet to move, one foot in front of the other. This was the punishment she deserved. She couldn’t drive, she couldn’t hail or call a cab. So she walked.

Her teeth chattered and her hair and clothing were dripping wet. She was sure she was going to have a cold in the morning, but she deserved it. That’s what happens when you fuck your life up.

She was drunk.

But she had never felt so sober.

Her body took her to the one of the places she had seeked refuge before. There was just something about the awful yellow walls and the red motorcycle picture that made her feel sheltered—that made her feel safe.

The second she stepped into the lobby of the apartment building, her body was overwhelmed with warmth. It was a stark contrast to the cold atmosphere outside and she debated about whether or not he would even want to see her. Maybe she should just turn around or head over to the bar down the street.

But for some reason her body wouldn’t listen to her mind.

She took the stairs this time, not trusting herself to stay upright in the elevator. Slowly, she made her way to his doorstep but she didn’t knock. She stood and stared at the door. This was her last chance to turn back. To avoid the disappointment for when he was going to slam the door in her face.

But she needed to apologize.

She needed to say sorry for not having his back. She needed to say sorry for putting him through so much pain the last few months. She needed to apologize for not being the partner that he needs.

She needed to apologize for it all.

So she clenched her right hand into a fist and brought it up to his door. Hesitantly, she knocked three times, as hard as she could. Her teeth had began to chatter again and she wasn’t sure if she’d be able to form a coherent sentence when she was face to face with him.

She could hear the sound of him moving on his leather couch before he made his way to the door. For a second there was no noise, and she assumed he was looking through the peephole. Her eyes averted towards the ground when she thinks he’s not opening the door and tears began to pool in her eyes. Much to her surprise, she hears the creak of hinges and his bare feet are in her line of vision.

“Erin? What’s wrong? Are you okay?” She doesn’t have to look up to know his eyes are laced with concern. “Erin?” He reached out a hand to caress her arm and when he made contact, she fell into his embrace. “You’re freezing. Did you walk here?” She didn’t answer his question but kept sobbing into his chest. She could feel him pull her over the threshold of his apartment and he softly clicked the door shut behind them. “Let’s get you in the shower. Hm?”

He led her towards his bathroom and turned the water on, letting it warm up. As he waited, he turned around to face her and started to undress her, taking note of how much she was shivering. He placed his hand on the small of her back, leading her into the shower. Moving away from the stream of water, he grabbed the shower door and went to close it, only for her to grab his wrist.

“Stay.” The vulnerable look in her eyes tugged at his heartstrings and before he knew what he was doing, he walked into the shower, still fully clad in his clothes. She collapsed into his arms again and let the water spray at her back.

Jay looked down at the broken girl against him and smiled sadly. He couldn’t care less about his clothing getting drenched. She had finally come to him. She wanted to get better. She wanted his help. And as if on cue, she moved her face away from his chest and stared into his eyes as the water pounded down on them.

“Thank you.”

When I look at you

I see forgiveness

I see the truth

You love me for who I am

Like the stars hold the moon

Right there where they belong

And I know I'm not alone

Leave me a review please :)

(This is a one shot so please don’t review by telling me to “update soon.” Much appreciated.)

#linstead #linstead fanfiction #chicago pd #chicago pd au #linstead au #jay halstead #erin lindsay #erin x jay #jay x erin #Jesse Lee Soffer #sophia bush #look at me remembering to bold and italicize words on this when i pasted #i have not abandoned my stories #im just finding it easier to write one shots at the moment #thanks for your patience #thanks for your support