#thousands of years old but this monologue (goes on a bit longer) is pretty cool and also a good reflection of her character

[amyscascadingtabs]

all the kingdom lights shined just for me and you

read on ao3

(jake's internal monologue in the scene™️ from manhunter. that's it.)

Amy doesn’t seem to agree with him about Brad Pitt being Jake’s natural replacement in the upcoming action movie he’s sure they’re going to make about today’s epic manhunt, and, frankly, it offends him a little. He’s gotten pretty buff lately, thanks to the occasional visit to the precinct gym and the fact that his best pizza place closed for renovations. Pitt would totally be the logical choice.

 But then she mentions another thing happening today, and he can tell she’s nervous. It’s in the higher tone of her voice, the way her expression turns all weighty like she’s confessing something, and she says the words I thought I might be pregnant and a multitude of thoughts fire through his head at once.

First, there’s shock. Out of all the things he might have expected her to say, pregnant was not among them. He feels guilty for it throwing him off like that, but he conceals it.

There’s not fear, exactly, but there’s a bit of apprehension. If she’s pregnant that means they’re doing this, no take-backs, and if they’re doing this, he has to be ready. Kids are definite, kids aren’t something you change your mind about if you as much as vaguely care about being a parent, and there are nervous butterflies in his stomach as he quickly puts his phone away.

 “Really?”

“Yeah. I’m not,” she assures him, saying the words in a rush before explaining about her period and the failed pregnancy test. It’s clearly the water’s fault, which, it should be obvious. Water ruins everything. He makes a joke to mask the odd feeling of disappointment he can’t explain even to himself, but she doesn’t play along, just reminds him of the actual matter at hand, which makes him shift into a worried mode. Whatever his feelings about this might be, hers are more important right now, and she doesn’t look sad but she looks let down in a sense that makes him wonder. He asks, and she launches into an explanation of how she was stressed, how it wouldn’t have agreed with the careful plan they’ve made, and then she says that it would’ve been crazy, right?

 It would be crazy. It would be absolutely insane. It would go against their official agreement of waiting another year, and they even wrote that down to have proof of the decision. A year is a long time, and he was sure it would be long enough for him to feel certain before they started trying. He thought he would have longer. He’s made massive strides of progress in his mental journey towards feeling like he might not completely ruin a child, but there’s still such a long list of things he doesn’t know if he’s ready for, just yet.

“It would have been,” he agrees, and she says okay in this voice that sounds of reluctant acceptance and awakens another stream of thoughts for him, one going in a very different direction.

 He’s accepted that maybe he’s always going to be that little bit scared of fatherhood, that his fear doesn’t have to be an entirely negative thing. Being scared means he cares about whether he fucks up or not and that distinction already sets him apart from Roger Peralta. He still wants to be ready, desperately doesn’t want to bring a child into this world if it’s not one-hundred percent wanted and welcomed.

 At the same time, the longer he goes, the more he sees that it doesn’t seem like anyone is ever fully ready to have kids. They met the newest Santiago baby a couple of weekends ago. Her parents looked like they hadn’t slept in months, and they still seemed fully mesmerized by their daughter. It was like they were zombies, but also fully in a trance, and they wouldn’t stop talking about how parenting was so different from what they thought it’d be and it was worse but it was also better.

 Recently, Jake’s had this new feeling washing over him at seemingly random times, and it’s unlike anything he’s ever felt but it’s not unpleasant. It happened when he watched Amy hold her youngest niece and the baby looked so at home in her arms, so right, that suddenly he was picturing her holding their future kid and getting emotional at the thought. It was there when it was his turn to hold her, too, although that was much more terrifying because Camila was giving him scrutinizing looks throughout. It’s come to him as he’s walked past a display of baby clothes while out shopping, making him wonder how small a pair of socks really can be, and whether it would be crazy of him to buy a pair now and save them. There are these moments when he sees a couple out walking with a stroller, and the thought of that being him and Amy doesn’t paralyze him with fear anymore. It makes him excited.

It doesn’t matter, because she’s not pregnant, but he realizes that if she’d said she was, he wouldn’t have panicked. He would have been happy, and it’s a novel kind of sensation but he likes it.

 “But also,” he says, speaking the words out loud which have been slowly taking shape inside his head for the last months, “might’ve been… kind of cool.”

“Honestly? I was secretly bummed when the test came back negative.”

 It’s a spontaneous thought, but at the same time, it’s not spontaneous at all. It’s been there for a while, growing on him with the persistence and security of something permanent, vaguely reminding him of the feeling he got that evening of April 28th, 2017, when he knew he wanted to spend the rest of his life with Amy. It’s different, still containing a small dose of fear he’ll have to learn how to live with, but it’s safe and it’s unwavering and it keeps growing stronger.

 He shrugs, even though this is as far from casual as it gets, and then he asks,

“Should we just start trying?”

“Seriously?”

 He’s serious. Amy looks relieved, or maybe it’s surprise, maybe it’s a combination of the two. She laughs - that subtle little laugh, it’s one of the cutest things she does, he should tell her that more often - and then her hand is on his cheek and she’s kissing him something soft and light and yet with all the meaning of a thousand declarations of love.

 Her forehead rests against his for a second after, her nose softly rubbing against his, and he’s holding onto her wrist as she laughs again and he thinks, not for the first time, that his wife is magic.

 After the whole news fiasco, they cuddle. Even though he’s feeling pretty sorry for himself, because come on, he lets Amy be the little spoon since she’s on her period and she’s had a long day and also, he just really wants to hug her. The television stays on for a while, playing a segment about the weather on low volume.

 Jake wonders quietly to himself around which age their kids would be old enough to start watching cartoons. He imagines them creeping into their bed early on a Saturday morning, making space between him and Amy to make sure they're the center of attention before asking to turn on the TV. He knows kids shouldn't have too much screen time, but he could never tell them no if they wanted to watch Ninja Turtles with him. He also can't remember if you're supposed to allow your kids in your bed or not. He might be thinking of dogs. It doesn't matter, because Jake wouldn't be able to stop them. Most likely he’d be longing for a chance to snuggle them anyway, pepper their sweet little faces with kisses the way he does with Amy sometimes, until they started complaining.

Jake decides that his kids will always be welcome in their bed, and always be allowed to watch cartoons there. It feels right.

Amy turns off the television. They both turn out the light from the nightstands, and he hugs her even closer because she's warm and she smells good and god, he loves her so much. She's not pregnant, but maybe one day in the near future, she will be, and the thought makes him feel all warm inside.

 He brushes his hand over her stomach through her pink t-shirt. Someday soon, she'll be growing their child there, and one day, he’ll get to feel them kick underneath his hands. Maybe they’ll recognize his voice the way he's learned that babies can do already before they're born, or maybe he’ll play them Taylor Swift songs so they’re familiar with the greatest songwriter of all time at a young age. One day, and maybe it’s closer than he could guess, he’ll get to hold them in his arms for the very first time.

 He can't even picture what it will feel like, but he presses another kiss to Amy’s cheek before closing his eyes, and he knows he can’t wait to find out.

#my writing #b99 #brooklyn 99 #brooklyn nine-nine #peraltiago #jake x amy #b99 fic #brooklyn 99 fic #brooklyn nine-nine fic #b99 fanfiction #brooklyn nine-nine fanfiction #jake x amy fic #jake x amy fanfiction #peraltiago fic #peraltiago fanfiction #i wrote this half delirious yesterday but i had to get it out there

[signaturedish]

A question for ur TF fic. What if when Harry gets turned he's like, younger? When it happens I mean (He is 10 right?) Like, five or something maybe? What would change? How would the bots and cons react? How would Harry react?

Hey you! Sorry that took a hot minute. 

Yeah, Harry’s ten in the fic. 

The way I intended it was that he was clearly ten in his internal monologue right up until he was turned into a robobaby. Then the trauma on top of a completely different set of instincts had him thinking and behaving a good 5-3 years younger than his current age with a gradual upward incline as he got more comfortable and familiar with himself in later chapters. Right now in the narrative, he’s almost back to normal, we’re just waiting on a returning desire for independence which won’t happen until he’s secure in his relationship with Megs.

So to make him five, I think that drop in maturity would come off much more dramatically. He was a pretty independent human ten-year-old, resigned to his treatment as a servant, and capable on his own. A five-year-old Harry would be far newer to his servant status and much more unsure of himself from the getgo- Five-year-olds aren’t built for the kind of independence the Durselys expect from him, we’re right in the middle of those growing pains. 

Then we turn him into a robobaby. 

(I like the age I chose for Harry but sad baby Harry was so cute I made this a little long for more details, excuse my indulgence)

Appearance-wise he wouldn’t change much. He’s already too small and at the youngest growth stage, his internal programming would probably be more toddler-esque with a stronger inclination to cry for attention, a greater need for positive attention, and more automatic behaviors geared toward inciting those things. 

Oh and he keeps his lisp.

The first few days would be a nightmare, like constant crying, deeply distressed at all times, desperately reaching out to the scientists on blind instinct and getting reprimanded for it at every turn. A whole mess, a whole inconsolable mess, the scientists think there’s something fundamentally wrong with him, he’s incoherent past the point of even perceived aggression. 

Then Megatron makes his move. He’s been hearing what sounds like a newspark being tortured for hours and hours and now that he can see that it probably isn’t a sleep paralysis-level nightmare driving him to madness he needs to Handle This ASAP.

First problem- Harry isn’t responding to cool, logical instructions to communicate through comm. He’s way past regular conversation. 

This is eventually resolved when Megatron very clumsily takes the right stabs at comforting him. It takes hours, some sullen silences, panicking, maybe a soft reboot or two, but he does get there. Crooning lullabies, softer sentences, praise when Harry stops crying, Megatron is flying so blind it isn’t even funny but he’s not dumb, he can see it’s working.

The transformers view PA!Harry as a very gifted and mature toddler. This itty bitty little baby can fit so much serious thought and a burgeoning emotional intelligence in it so they try their best to accommodate and not come off terribly condescending. Success varies. 

Younger!Harry acts much truer to his appearance. So in general, how the TF crew thinks of Harry changes very little, but how they respond to him does.

Megatron is as soft as he can possibly be to the point of genuine pain. Harry is so much more emotionally dependant and lost that it’s less easy to drift back into overlord mode around him. You’ll note that Megatron doesn’t have another mode to switch to, just a rusty parental unit protocol set he’s never activated before. Soundwave gets called down immediately, surveillance be damned, he needs someone with caretaking knowledge and he needs them now. 

Bumblebee doesn’t really perceive the difference, he couldn’t clock Harry’s age in any au, he was kinda sure the bot was glitched initially. His genuine confusion when Harry kicks and screams and sobs like a very young child who’s thinnest thread of guidance was just ripped away from him by a lying yellow monster easily comes across as cruelty. The mistrust and fear/hatred Harry develops for him does not mellow for far longer than his stay with the Autobots.

On the bright side his meltdown makes the Autobots come to terms with their find much more quickly. They could hear the distress calls a mile from the dam and had a lot of the freakout there instead. 

Ironhide rips him out of Bumblebee’s cab while Jazz is split between hovering worriedly and tearing the scout to pieces for allowing him to get so worked up. Similar rough aesthetic and coloring to Megatron and an English accent help a great deal in calming Harry down and the rocking and lullabies do the rest. 

Every Autobot has his targeting systems on and a whole lot of automatic aggression coursing through them with the terror and pain of a sparkling still fresh in the air. After Bumblebee is brought to miserable apologies and Bonecrusher is ripped limb from limb they’re still pumped and ready to Throw Down with Megatron. But he just makes that deal to keep Harry safe and assures Harry that he’ll be okay with Optimus and Megs’ll be back soon. 

Harry is still distraught Megatron left him with strangers. But he’s there long enough to form those Autobot attachments, primarily with Ironhide, Ratchet and Jazz.

Ironhide doesn’t put him down much at all, even when Harry tries to hide it, he gets anxious all alone on the cot and much prefers the nook between pauldron and helm to cuddle in and listen to growly war stories and life lessons. He sleeps up there whenever possible too. Ironhide can tell all this and happily allows it, staying stock-still for hours and gently rousing him whenever Harry begins to have a nightmare about the dam.

Ironhide’s perception hasn’t logically changed much, but the way Harry behaves ticks every box to drive him into an overprotective rampage, to the point that humans aren’t allowed within thirty feet of him and even the tiniest whimper has him hovering like three thousand pounds of promised death over his charge. 

They bond the closest, to the point that Ironhide could plausibly replace Megatron as Harry’s imprinted guardian (but he doesn’t).

Jazz and Ratchet share tertiary ‘older brother’ type roles in Harry’s life. Jazz reads to him, plays games with him, and holds him when Ironhide can’t be there. His playful casualness helps keep Harry calm and gets him to open up, but its not something he responds to as successfully. Camaraderie is appreciated but not something an insecure five-year-old always understands.

Jazz gains the most points correcting Optimus’ treatment of him and handling any humans who get into the hanger before Ironhide does something drastic. Thinks that play up his aptitude as a parental figure and devotion to keeping him healthy and safe. 

Ratchet...he really needs Harry’s observational skills and willingness to shoulder some emotional weight in the relationship, unfair or not. Without the ability to deliver the reassurance Ratchet needs, in addition to possessing a much more fragile disposition himself, it can be difficult for Ratchet to interact with Harry. He keeps to himself when Harry doesn’t ask for him or need treatment and they read rejection in each other’s hesitance too often for Harry to pursue the affection fit to burst in Ratchet.

Ratchet would 100% die for him and is right up there with Ironhide as his most aggressive defender, but he isn’t a great source of comfort for Younger!Harry. He wins his points through being the best cuddler, hands down, and praising him most often. Soft moments when neither of them are shy or afraid are where they’re closest.

Optimus is weirdly like Bumblebee here. He has Harry clocked as infant but god knows that that’s supposed to mean. He doesn’t have a mode outside of Prime to switch to for Harry and the stumbling we see in PA is him doing his very best. He’s not dumb, he recognizes that Harry isn’t emotionally mature enough to be spoken to the way he might mistakenly speak to him in PA, but he doesn’t have any other words. There’s a lot of frustrated staring and helpless silences here. 

Jazz tries his best to gently encourage some softer interactions and Ironhide is raring to punish his Prime if he dares misstep with his sparkling charge, tensions stay a little high.

With Soundwave planning Harry’s extraction, it goes off almost without a hitch, no sparklings were bitten in the attempt at least. Thundercracker might actually die depending on the plan. He has the most experience out of the Decepticons with immature and young bots via his own casseticons and a paternal disposition under all his cool logic. So he’s bustling around like an expectant mother, training up all the other Cons in grueling exercises and curriculum to get them up to his standards of child rearing aptitude and childproofing the base.

Megatron really does appreciate some tangible, reliable instructions. He’d appreciate it even more if he wasn’t a little bit threatened by how confident and capable Soundwave is when interacting with Harry. Soundwave quickly becomes the second favorite- almost on par with Ironhide.

Barricade is terrified of Harry in that way twenty-somethings are terrified when married friends give them babies and then leave to do something. This is way too important and delicate for him and someone pleaserescuehimitsgettingcloserohmygod-

Thundercracker is much more cautious handling Harry. We haven’t gotten there yet in PA, but he’s kind of the fun uncle who definitely goads Harry into things partially to get under Meg’s skin. Not so when Harry is more openly vulnerable and clumsy, now we’ve got a little baby chick who needs to stay in his nest and be warm and safe. Gliding will happen much, much later. If ever.

Harry was affected by how the scientists treated him to the point of being intensely shy around friendly, good humans and flatly terrified of anyone else. Megatron hunted down every remaining SS agent with Soundwave’s help to finish the job for that.

Eventually, Harry would feel more secure and comfortable and would start wanting to be on the ground and playing with less parental bots instead of carried everywhere by his guardians, but that recovery is achieved at the Decepticon base after some weeks have passed.

Okay and I think that’s it! Thanks for asking!! I had probably too much fun...

#oliverslewty #pa #perfectly alien #baby harry au #anon ask #sd speaks #optimus prime #megatron #barricade #thundercracker #jazz #ironhide #soundwave #harry potter #sparkling au #bumblebee #ratchet

[dat-town]

renaître de ses cendres

Characters: Jinhwan & You

Genre: angst

Setting: immortal au

Summary: Jinhwan has lived long but you make him want to live more.

Warning: character death

Words: 2.2k

for @lily-blue have the happiest bday my dear ♥

[original pic credit goes to bylove_951221]

Jinhwan has loved fiercely.

He has loved until death.

He has loved without meaning to, without doubts, without thinking.

Jinhwan has lived many loves. All of which he was fated to lose.

But only when he saw the light fade in your ever bright eyes did he think that the price of immortality was too high.

Jinhwan didn't like to talk about the time he was born into. He didn't like to talk about any of his previous lives. He had been around for a longer time than the Colosseum or the Great Wall of China and he had learned that he would be stuck in the past if he kept looking back. So he didn't. He always adapted to the current time he lived in and tried to make the most out of it, enjoying the small wonders of life. But sometimes he got desperate and lonely too and then he had enough of it but he couldn't die, literally couldn't. Yes, he tried, multiple times. He always came back.

It was one of those times. The ones in despair when he wanted nothing, just leave this Earth and this empty shell of him behind. He was all alone, not a soul would have cared if he just disappeared. He wished he could evaporate in the wind or dissolve in water, if he could just turn bodiless. After thousands of years he got bored of the face that looked back at him in the mirror. He started hating the very same sad eyes of his reflection staring vacantly ahead.

“Are you thinking of jumping?”

A young, curious voice startled him and his steps died on his tracks, feet stilling on the metal barrier of the bridge he was walking on. He spared one glance at the deep, dark waters of the rushing Han River under him, illuminated by the pearl white moonlight. Then he turned around gracefully, his balance not even shaking, airily like a tightrope dancer would have. Then his gaze settled on you, the pale girl standing by the fence in nothing more than a pretty flower-patterned dress, slippers thrown on the ground. You rested your elbows on the cold railing staring ahead with an inextricable look on your face. He couldn't really tell what you were thinking and what made you ask that ground-breaking question so calmly.

“Are you?” Jinhwan shot back the very same question without answering as he elegantly hopped down from the fence, casually leaning back to it after his feet hit the ground, merely a meter away from you.

You didn't seem bothered, not by the new proximity, nor the lack of answer but you hummed thoughtfully before answering.

“No but the fact that I could makes it so much easier to bear life. Because you know it gives the knowledge that I have chosen it. It almost makes me feel powerful,” you chuckled after the long and serious monologue.

You were talking so casually as if the mere thought of your mortality, the inevitability of your own death didn't scare you at all while most people would have been scared shitless. You were standing there in the middle of one of the highest bridges of your town staring down at the rampant water stirring up because of a coming storm. Jinhwan wasn't new to sudden summer downpours, he could feel it come in the air. You seem to pay no mind to it though. Eyes closed you enjoyed the weather and everything in the moment. Taking big breaths and letting out satisfied exhales like you had all the time in the world.

Jinhwan watched you in awe; it's been a while he had met such an unbothered soul.

Neither of you said anything, not until the first raindrops stirred up the silence coming fast like tears and their splash on the ground created a piano melody like nothing else. You smiled not caring about your hair and dress getting wet, not even when the water droplets slid across your body leaving goosebumps in their wake behind them. You inhaled from the humid air one last time before pushing yourself away from the fence and turning to leave.

But Jinhwan who had been staring and marvelling at you in wonder couldn't let you go just like that.

“Won't you catch cold?” he asked glancing down at your bare feet on the harsh, cold concrete. You looked down as if you were surprised by his question. Then realizing what he might have meant, you chuckled and shushed his question away with a flick of your wrist, tiny raindrops following the movement.

“It doesn't matter either way,” you shrugged with a secret smile pulling on the corners of your pretty mouth. Then grabbing your pair of slippers and with them dangling in your hand you danced away with cute little spins, humming a sad song in a way much happier tone than you were supposed to be.

You laughter was a melody in the wind that carried the lovely sound and the way wind played with your short locks and the moonlight reflected on your skin Jinhwan swore nature adored you just as his heart whispered him to.

Already when he first met you he was damn convinced you were like poetry, a moving art in pretty form, riddles behind rhymes and secrets between the lines. He couldn't wait to unravel the mystery that was you.

You met him on that bridge again.

And again and again.

You found yourself waiting for those meetings even if they made your heart soar. It felt like playing with the thought of having something that couldn't really be yours. But it didn't dishearten you, not when he made it so easy to fall.

You were in love, you knew it from the moment he took you to that observatory just to stare at the stars and talk about the meaning of life, being a sparkle of dust in the galaxy. But you knew that you were more in love with the idea of him, of someone who cares than actually with him. Because he didn't like to talk about things like his family, job or past. You had no idea who Kim Jinhwan was but you knew a man with gentle heart and the wisdom of generations. He was the most interesting phenomena you ever encountered and even when he was close he felt so far as the stars you both loved so much.

It had been weeks, months of casual meetings and you had become paler, lost weight and hair. He hadn't said anything apart from asking you to take better care of yourself but he must have known you couldn’t really help it.

“I am dying,” you blurted out after you finished slurping from your fruit smoothie and it might have been too casual to take it seriously because Jinhwan let out one of his typical, philosophical questions:

“Aren't we all?” he looked up at you with unsaid words hiding in his dark orbs: at least humans, the ones without ridiculous curses, he thought. You liked seeing secrets in his eyes even if you could never unravel them. At least you felt a little less bad for keeping yours. Like how your heart went crazy near him.

“No, I mean I know for a fact that I will die within a few months. I even have this cool hospital card because you know I'm a permanent guest there,” you chattered showing off the card to your room. You had years accepting the idea of dying, you were really ready for it. Or you thought you were until he came along.

Now that made Jinhwan dumbfounded. “What?”

You quieted down, smile fading at his sad voice and the blank look on his face.

“I'm sick, Jinhwan and no, it can't be cured. They have already tried everything.”

Suddenly it all made sense: why you were so accepting of the inevitable end. You’ve had your time to deal with it and had decided not to waste any moment, to enjoy the smallest miracles of being alive and to bring as much joy to the people around you as it was possible. But how was it fair? That life cursed him with eternal life but gave you – you of all people! - only so little? Jinhwan hated it.

“Hey,” you nudged his hand and he blinked, surprised, shaking his head to get rid of such thoughts. Your eyes were like unwritten fairytales, magical and infinite, pulling him in. You smiled almost too gently for someone who was meant to die so young, so beautiful. “I'm still the girl who danced around barefoot in the rain. Don't look at me differently. I just thought you deserved to know that you are hanging out with a dying girl before it gets worse.”

It did get worse pretty soon just as you predicted and warned him.

First you weren’t able to walk that much without sitting down for a while. Then you had hard time breathing sometimes. And once you got a seizure in the middle of laughing on something ridiculous like vines. After that they kept you in the hospital, no more free days out in the open, you were bound to machines because your organs started giving up one by one. You were saddened seeing your father's devastated face or your mother's tears, only Jinhwan treated you like nothing changed. He didn't even blink at the sight of infusion and the nasal cannula when he visited you in the hospital. He asked you if you dreamed anything nice lately and talked about the old neighbour lady's story that he heard that night. You were too tired of talking after a while, so you asked Jinhwan to speak in lieu of the two of you.

“What does it mean?” you softly asked tracing the tattoo on his forearm with your index finger a bit weakly. But he gently took your hand in his before it could fall from his arm.

“Reborn from the ashes,” he translated the French text without sparing a glance at it.

You smiled faintly hearing the words and averted your gaze from him to the darkened scenery on the other side of the window.

“That sounds nice. Starting over. I wish I could be a phoenix to do that,” you whispered, voice barely there, a little lifeless and his heart churned, breaking from the pressure, from the weight of all the confessions he didn't… couldn't tell you. Not now. It was all too late from you to hear them anyway.

“Do you want to hear a story?” he asked ever so lovingly and as it became hard to speak, you just squeezed his hand back as a sign of saying yes. So he took a deep breath and started talking.

“Once upon a time there was a young and foolish prince so arrogant that he wanted to become a god, so he searched for the key to immortality. It seemed to be a fruitless journey after years and years-long of pursuit but he still had nothing. He had bathed in virgins’ blood, read rituals and made a deal with all kind of devils, all of them turned out to be imposters… except for one. She was nothing but an old lady, he thought and he laughed when she offered him the eternal youth. She asked for nothing but a lock of the prince's hair. He was curious though, he had nothing to lose, so he cut a piece of his hair and gave it to her. The woman burnt it right in front of him while murmuring something satanic and then threw a knife at him. She was executed immediately for treason with the last words: you will live in regret burning on her tongue and only later, when his anger died down did the prince realize that the wound where the knife scratch him disappeared as if there was no wound at all.”

“What happened to him?” you breathed barely audible but listening very closely with your eyes closed.

“He has lived long and at first he found joy in his victorious life,” Jinhwan continued with the story, his steady voice slowly becoming hollow. “But soon he realized being unable to die was indeed a curse. Centuries has come and gone and he had become more and more distant. Sure he wasn't dead but he didn't feel alive either. Until one day he met a girl, a girl who showed him everything in life that was worthy of appreciation, that there's more to it than just living. She was a girl who was in love with life itself and the prince who was nowhere near a prince anymore wished he could give her more of that.”

The last of it was barely a whisper because the heart rate machine by the bed went still. Even the Moon dressed in silver mourned and the stars all around pitied him. His tears helped nobody.

Jinhwan has loved gently.

He has loved until death and even after.

He has loved truly, madly, deeply and he had lived to tell the tale because you would have wanted him to do that. To live.

To reborn from the ashes.

#ikonicshelves #ikon scenarios #ikon imagines #ikon oneshot #jinhwan scenarios #jinhwan imagines #jinhwan oneshot #immortal au #jinhwan x reader #stories

[prongsno]

Le Château de la Belle au Bois Dormant (The Castle Of Sleeping Beauty)

based off an anon prompt / Sirius has lost his little brother, Regulus, in Disneyland Paris. (2492 words) read on ao3

“They’re going to kill me.”

“I’m sure whatever you’ve done isn’t that bad.”

Sirius rolls his eyes down the phone, making a face at the ever so calm and collected voice of James Potter. He bites his lip, looking behind him again. He’s getting worried, and Sirius Black is hardly ever worried.

“I’ve lost Reg.”

“Lost? Like misplaced? You can’t find him?”

“No, lost as in the other lost. Of course I mean that you moron.”

James is silent for a second. “But, aren’t you in Paris?”

“Yes.”

“In Disneyland?”

Sirius closes his eyes for a second. “Yes.”

“And you’ve just lost your seven year old baby brother?”

Somehow, James has the ability to make things sound ten thousand times worse. Sirius groans, and turns around again, scanning the crowds as if little Regulus will just pop out behind someone.

He’s standing slap, bang in the middle of the pathway right in front of Sleeping Beauty’s palace. Of all places, it would be in one of the busiest parts of the theme park that he loses his brother.

“Go ask a security guard or something, maybe they’ll put an announcement in for him.”

“Mum would find out, they’d want me to call her.”

“Then just ask people around you. You’re fluent, surely someone must have seen him. I would stay and talk but mum’s got me looking after the dinner. Let me know how it goes.”

“A fat load of help you are, I’m not getting you any macaroons now.”

But James has already hung up and Sirius has no choice but to let out an aggravated groan and throw the phone into his pocket. The entrance to the castle is heaving, and he keeps getting pushed around, people send him dirty looks as he takes up the space.

He needs to find Reg. And fast. Before anything happens.

He used to hate travelling to France every year to see his relatives, with a burning passion. But he supposes now, with flipping Mickey ears on his head and Regulus’s Daffy Duck backpack on his shoulders, that being pretty much fluent in the language does have its uses.

He starts off by asking random people who pass by. Have you seen a young boy, with matching mickey ears and a mickey mouse top?

He even gets out his phone, pointing helplessly to the photo they took only minutes before the little scoundrel ran off.

No one seems to have seen him.

One person does say yes, and Sirius has a few seconds of heart pounding relief before he realises that the person has no idea what he’s saying and doesn’t understand French. He asks in English, but they don’t understand that either and so he walks off feeling worse than he did before.

He asks a group of American tourists, who are deeply apologetic and then ask him if he’s from London.

Every person, to his left and right, he asks.

It becomes almost second nature to him, speaking in French and asking, rather politely but also forcefully, if they’ve seen his brother.

He’s always expecting a ‘no’, and so he’s already setting himself up for the bitter disappointment when he taps the girl in front of him, shoves his phone in her face and asks her the same question in French he’s been asking for what feels like a lifetime.

“Er, Jay swiss desu-lay. But, par-lay voo Ang-lay?”

He blinks. The girl stares back.

He’s never heard someone butcher the French language quite like her, it’s actually an achievement and for a second he’s absolutely shocked for words. Then, despite the turmoil he’s been putting himself through and the nerves that are still wrecking at his gut, he laughs.

The poor girls stares at him in horror.

“I’m so sorry,” she cries, placing a hand on his shoulder. “I have no idea what you just said. Desu-lay.”

“It’s okay.”

She looks relieved, but now extremely embarrassed. “You’re English.”

“I am.” For a second, when he stares into her eyes, he forgets everything. He clears his throat and fiddles with the zip on his leather jacket (Regulus had rolled his eyes when Sirius had put it on this morning, saying it looked like he was in the Mafia). “So are you?”

She’s staring back, mouth half open in a daze. Then she blinks and nods her head and tucks her hair back behind her ear.

“Err yeah. English. That’s me.”

She’s got pretty eyes, and the sweetest face he’s ever seen.

God, what’s wrong with him all of a sudden?

He’s never been speechless, James says all the time that he could talk the hind legs off a donkey. So why, in front of this girl he’s literally never seen before, has he suddenly lost all ability to speak?

She reaches out, fingers fluttering against his. He sucks in a breath, he hates people touching him, but with her it’s different somehow? Her hand is warm, and oddly comforting. She takes the phone gently from him, and stares at the photo of Regulus that’s still up on the screen.

“Is this your brother?”

He nods. “Um, yeah. Regulus. I can’t find him.”

He realises with a jolt that they’re standing oddly close together. Her shoulders brush against his chest, she’s a head shorter than him at least, and he can smell the faintest hint of strawberries. What is going on?

“I haven’t seen him, I’m so sorry.” She hands the phone back to him, hands brushing against his again. He’s blushing like a little kid as she pulls her eyes away from his.

Suddenly someone is waving something in his face. “A rose! A rose for you and your girlfriend?”

Sirius takes a step back, jumping at the sudden sound and trips up over the girl’s feet. She stumbles and he has to reach out to grab hold of her shoulder, pulling her back with a grunt as she hits his chest.

“Oh, we’re not -” He starts, words failing when the flower vendor winks at them. He immediately lets go of her shoulder, and the girl is blushing as she takes a step away from him.

“Don’t deny it! You two have such chemistry!” The man, who’s holding a large bucket full of roses, doesn’t look like he’s going to leave unless he’s got a euro in his hand and suddenly he starts monologuing in French about how much the two of them look like they’re in love.

Sirius takes out his wallet immediately, slaps two euros into the man’s hand and takes the rose. Merci’s are exchanged and the flower vendor goes off to look for his next victims.  

“I’m Sirius,” he says, groaning in his head at the complete cliched feel of this whole situation. He numbly hands the rose to her and she takes it with a grin. He’s such an idiot.

“Mary.”

Mary twirls the rose between her fingers, a bashful looking smile on her lips like she’s never been given a flower before. “Thank you, it’s lovely.”

He’s smiling again, like a fool, when his phone starts ringing.

“Mother!” He tries putting on his happiest, I-haven’t-lost-my-brother voice and glances wearily in Mary’s direction. She gives him the thumbs up and it’s strange how she can reassure him so easily. “Yeah, Reg is having loads of fun! You want to talk to him? He’s err, he’s currently on a ride. Yeah. He didn’t want me to go with him, said I’d be too embarrassing. I’ll give you a call back when he’s done. Okay. Bye!”

“She is going to kill me!” He throws his phone rather murderously into Reg’s Daffy Duck bag, and grabs at his hair in mild panic.

“Do you remember where you saw him last?” Her voice sends a shiver up his spine.

“Sleeping Beauty’s castle. I turned away for a second and the little rascal had run off.”

Mary nods her head, rearranges the strap of her bag and sets off walking.

“You don’t have to come, sorry. I shouldn’t have made it your problem too-”

She shakes her head and continues to speed walk past the crowds of people. He has to jog a little to catch up and, when he’s matching her pace, slides her a curious gaze.

“You’re in Disneyland Paris, and you’d rather help a stranger find his little brother than go around on rides? Aren’t you with anyone?”

She smooths her hair back again, dodging out of the way just in time as a group of excited kids barge past them. “I was. Till the knob broke up with me, just as we were about to go on The Little Mermaid.”

“Ouch. That’s low. What a dick.” Then, because he has no idea what else to say, and because he’s extremely aware of her hand brushing against his as they push through the crowds, he apologises.

She laughs, saying he has nothing to be sorry for and he knows because it’s such a pet-peeve of his when people say sorry for something they didn’t do and have no power over anything in the situation.

“I’ve made up my mind, Sirius,” she says, the name rolling off her tongue as if they’ve known each other far longer than just ten minutes. “I might not be much help, but I’m going to help any way I can.”

He thinks, in the least creepiest way possible, he might love her, just a little bit.

Finally they make it back to the castle, where countless couples stand and pose for selfies, sharing kisses and candy-floss alike.

It’s packed, he overhears a group of Parisian teenagers squealing because they’ve just caught a glimpse of Gaston up ahead, and suddenly a whole swarm of giddy fans are rushing past in the hopes of finding him. People are pushing everywhere and he’s not even thinking straight as he grabs hold of Mary’s hand so he can’t lose her in the crowd.

She seems to have the same idea because their fingers meet halfway, immediately latching onto one another for dear life.

He tries to ignore the fluttery feeling in his gut, tries to ignore the fact that he’s still wearing the blasted Mickey ears that Reg forced him to wear and that he, more than likely, looks ridiculous and stupid rather than cool and sophisticated.

But all that matters is that she’s clinging onto him for dear life as the pair of them are swept into the castle.

He barely gave the castle a second glance before, when he was panicking and running around in a daze trying to find Reg. And now, with Mary by his side, their hands locked together, he realises it showcases Princess Aurora and Prince Philip's fairy tale love story.

There’s a flash of a camera, lightning up the darkened room for a second before it vanishes. The crowd’s already been and gone now, in the distance someone yells ‘Gaston!’ and there’s a cheer, but the castle’s not swarming as it once was.

A kid screams in excitement and demands to see the dragon and Sirius, who is getting sweaty palms drops Mary’s hand as casually as he can. It’s too dark in the room to tell, but he thinks he sees her flex her hand, rubbing her thumb against the inside of her fingers.

He shivers.

She stops right by the stained glass windows, the light streaming through and making her face shine with different colours. He looks around the room, forcing himself to stare at something else that’s not her.

“Do you remember anything he said? Something that would help you know where he’s gone?”

He shakes his head at her question, he honestly cannot remember anymore. It’s been almost an hour, he is officially the worst big brother in the world.

“He was just too damn excited about everything. The castle, the dragon. Seeing Goofy. I checked my phone for one second and then he was nowhere.”

“Did you see her?”

“What?”

She smiles. “The dragon. Maleficent. Did you both go to see it?”

He lets out a breath, his lungs are aching. “No.”

They’re grabbing each other’s hands again, racing off towards The Dragon’s Lair. It’s so dark underneath the castle and the two of them take out their phones, activating the torch. He gives Mary a nod and she follows close behind him as he yells out a panicked ‘Reg!’.

A group of five give him a funny look, but Sirius doesn’t care. He barges past them, looking in all of the nooks and crannies where a small boy of seven could fit.

“You don’t have to yell out my name!”

His mouth burns and he lets out a gasp as he turns. There Reg is, leaning against the rails like some model who’s waiting for an assistant to hand him a mocha-decaf-latte with extra cream.

“You little monster!” Sirius grabs him by his top and then pulls him close to give him a tight squeeze. “Where the hell did you run off to?”

Regulus pulls away after a few seconds, finding it highly embarrassing that his older brother is hugging him. “I told you I wanted to see the dragon,” he answers rather calmly.

Sirius blinks. “You’ve been here for the past hour?”

“Yes.” Regulus rolls his eyes. The boy glances towards Mary, who stands a little behind them. “Who’s that?”

“This is Mary-”

“Is she your girlfriend?” Regulus nods, with a wide grin, towards the rose that Mary’s still holding between her fingers. “Sirius’s got a crush. Sirius bought a rose.” The little scoundrel laughs and tugs at his backpack that still hangs from Sirius’s shoulders. He’s glad to get rid of the damn thing, and practically throws it into Regulus’s arms.

“Come on then,” Reg says once he’s reunited with his bag. “I want some candy-floss.” He turns towards the exit and Sirius, who is never letting his younger brother out of his sight again, tugs at Mary’s hand.

“Thank you so much,” he says as they pass the dragon and head towards the exit. “You’re actually a lifesaver.”

Mary laughs, grinning at the hyper sight of Regulus who dances and chants ‘candy-floss’. “He’s adorable. I’m so glad you found him.”

“You found him. I honestly cannot thank you enough.” He scratches his neck, takes off the mickey ears and runs a hand through his hair. “Er, so what were you planning on doing now?”

She shrugs. “Nothing now that my arse of an ex has gone. You?”

“Just going around with Reg.” He swallows hard. “You could, um - you’re welcome to join us. If you wanted to, I mean. I could treat you to a coffee. As a thank you.”

“That’s code for a date,” Regulus pops his head from under Sirius’s arms, giving Mary a grin that’s so similar to his brother’s. “He’s asking you out.”

She smiles, and Sirius feels like he’s floating. “I guess my answer is yes, then.”

#blackdonald #siriary #sirius x mary #sirius black x mary macdonald #blackdonald:fic #my fic #:))))))))))))

[filmreviewsbyanidiot]

‘A Ghost Story’ According To An Idiot

It’s a ‘scary’ film with good reviews, this can mean one of two things... it’s great or it’s arty nonsense. I wonder which one it’s going to be! Synopsis: In this singular exploration of legacy, love, loss, and the enormity of existence, a recently deceased, white-sheeted ghost returns to his suburban home to try to reconnect with his bereft wife. Well that’s the first I’ve heard of them being married. Anyway, this film.. it’s not good guys. Sorry to be the bearer of bad news but they’ve gone the arty nonsense way. As you may well know, arty nonsense doesn’t go down well with the likes of me as I am a philistine. Casey Affleck is in the lead in this film. Well he kind of is. His character is under a sheet most of the time so who knows if that’s him under there. At one point, creepy sheeted Casey creeps into his wife’s room while she’s in bed and touches her without her knowing... I think it’s safe to say Affleck was under the sheet for that scene. The film isn’t scary but I don’t think it’s trying to be. It’s trying to be emotional and thought provoking but I’m afraid it just doesn’t do a good job unless you’re an arty person who might have cried at a painting before. I know you lot, you bloody love feeling things and finding meaning where there isn’t any. I’m being purposefully ignorant here, I’m aware some people would have enjoyed this film for all the reasons I hated it. Art is subjective maaaan. You enjoy what you want my dears and I’ll continue to say how stupid this film was. There will now be SPOILERS. So please, do piss off if you want to watch this film one day. I highly recommend giving it a miss though. Unless watching a woman eat a pie for 4 minutes is your sort of thing. So Casey and his wife are having a nice time in their home. They are quite boring and we get to watch them kiss for TOO LONG. They hear a noise, uh oh, it’s ghost time! But no. We don’t see the typical couple being haunted in their home and having to phone a priest to pop round and do some shouting. We soon see a dead Casey Affleck. He’s crashed his car outside the house, oh dear. Then we see his wife with his body in the hospital and when she walks away, the sheet covered body stands up and walks about with some cut out eyes. You can only see darkness in the eyes, not the actual eyes of Affleck. So he walks down the corridor and the wall turns into a screen for a bit and then goes away again. No reason for that. Honestly... no reason at all. Great stuff. So he goes home and stands about. The first thing he sees is a woman bring a pie round and leave it for the bereaved wife. She comes home and starts eating it (not before we watch her wash up for a few minutes which is quite breath taking) and she just won’t stop. We watch her eat this pie for 4 minutes. I’m not joking. It feels longer. Up to this point, every scene has been drawn out. Every scene has been dull. Now we are watching a woman eat a pie for 4 minutes. Fuck off. Thankfully, the first section is the worst. I’m not saying things get good but they certainly improve slightly. So the wife moves out and ghost Casey stays in the house. Before she leaves, she writes something on a bit of paper and pops in it a crack in the wall. Casey goes over when she’s gone and starts scratching at the wall, only to look up and see some children running in the house. It’s the first example of time jumping and we see a mother and her children have moved in. Here’s where pretty much the only interesting part of the film happens. The kids are woken in the night by a sound coming from their cupboard, they look up and the door creaks open and the little girl screams and runs out. It’s a scene we’ve watched a thousand times in every horror movie but this time it’s coming from the ghosts perspective and that’s interesting. We then see Casey fuck around with the family by throwing stuff around their kitchen like a proper poltergeist. The family obviously move out. Oh, by the way. Out ghost makes a friend with a ghost across the street. We see what they’re saying to each other with subtitles. It’s silly. We then get a big load of student type people having a party. There’s a monologue from a man in the kitchen about how life is pointless and Earth is going to end up being eaten by The Sun in the future anyway. It’s alright as monologues go but it feels a bit like the director wrote this down years ago and has been waiting to slip it into any film. It doesn’t hugely fit. I dunno... I guess I didn’t hate it. It just felt out of place. So that’s the end of the ‘good’ part of the film. I personally didn’t mind the people moving in and out. I felt like it was an interesting idea. But anyway, the house gets knocked down just as our ghost has finally got the bit of paper out of the wall. He stands in the rubble of the house and sees his little friend standing in her own rubble. Then she disappears from under the sheet and it falls to the ground. It looks cool I guess but I’ve see that effect before so ya know. Here’s where the film fully goes stupid again. So the house starts to be built on again and seems to become a huge office building in a city. The ghost is just wandering around it looking lost until he goes to the very top and throws himself off. We see a sheet hurtling to the ground and the screen goes blank. It’s over! Thank god! No, sadly it isn’t. The ghost wakes up in a field. There’s an old fashioned family living in a wagon. He’s gone back in time. Who knows why or how or why anybody bothered to make this film? He briefly watches them before we see that they’ve all been killed by arrows. The ghost just sits in the field looking at the rotting bodies before suddenly he’s sitting in the old house. Somebody is coming in the door! Who on Earth could it be? Oh fantastic, it’s Casey and his wife moving it! Yaaay. We get to see them when they first moved in and we see some scenes that we saw earlier but from the ghosts perspective. It’s all a bit confusing but that’s art apparently. Then we discover the ghost is unhappy to hear Casey agree to move out. So I guess the ghost is what caused Casey to crash? So that Casey could stay in the house forever? But Jake, I thought the ghost was Casey. Yes, so did I. Who knows what’s going on by this point. We there are two ghosts in the same house so many the idea is that there are ghosts of people everywhere? No idea to be honest. Anyway, then Casey is still clawing away at the wall to get the bit of paper out and he finally gets it, opens it and then... poof! He disappears from under the sheet. The End. Does that sound good? Because it isn’t. It’s a stupid film with stupid time travel and a confusing story. I know they want me to think about life and grief and loss but you can do that without being annoying. I’ve seen many great films on those subjects and none of them have to be so pretentious about it. I’ll admit, there are some great ideas here but the whole thing is boring. So very boring. 1.5 out of 5. PS. The best thing about this film was when a man got up and moved seats and then shouted “PUT THE FUCKING BAG AWAY” to some people who had been rustling a sweet bag. Fantastic fun!

#a ghost story #review #movie review #film reviews #ghost #story #casey affleck #rubbish #boring #dull #film reviews by an idiot

[alexander-mormont12]

TV shows that became unwatchable with age

Looper Staff

Nostalgia isn't what it used to be, and sometimes, it turns out that the TV shows you used to love actually weren't worthy—and when we no longer see them through the warped lens of memory, it becomes clear that they don't stand up. Not all television is built to last, and here are a few old shows that have served their purpose and should never be rerun again.

Doctor Who

Before you get too upset, let's be clear: we're talking about the original, pre-modern version of Doctor Who. While much of the series' continuity and long-running themes were established during the days of Hartnell, Baker, and McCoy, it's difficult to sit through a three- or four-hour story arc with rubber monsters and a floundering Doctor. Sure, some of it has a bit of value for the ridiculous alien costumes alone, but for viewers accustomed to modern production values during an era in which television has risen to an art form, the camp and general plot-holery make the show hard to endure. Vintage Who barely stands up against Star Trek, and that's some serious camp. Just sit down and watch "Time and the Rani." If you make it out alive, you've probably used up one of your regenerations.

Daria

Many kids of the '90s look back on their grungy years of sarcastic indifference with a bit of regret, but at the time, nothing was cooler than casual nihilism. Emblematic of that attitude was Daria, the Beavis and Butthead spinoff that focused on the duo's smart, seemingly utterly indifferent classmate. At the time, it was relatable animation for people who were stuck between being kids and being adults. In retrospect, we know that Daria's unrelenting 'tude was an obstacle to valuable life experiences, and it can be hard to watch today—not to mention that every other character in the show is obviously a terribly broad caricature of high school stereotypes. And it seemed so real at the time.

Scrubs

At its best, Scrubs offered an entertaining comedy counterpoint to the glut of medical dramas on television. And there was even a time when Zach Braff's Dr. John Dorian was a sympathetic character whose everyday trials and heart of bronze was kinda worth watching… but as the show progressed, Dorian became less and less likable—and less insightful during his endless monologues. Finally, Braff left the show partway through the ninth season, leaving it to limp awkwardly to an anticlimactic conclusion.

Full House

If you were like most kids in the late '80s, you were probably parked in front of ABC's family-friendly TGIF block every Friday night. And your parents probably hated every second of it, because a little bit of Steve Urkel's insatiable lust for cheese goes a really, really long way—and Full House's saccharine morality and terrible puns were always hard to stomach. A hundred terrible catchphrases later, we're reminded just how awkward and unfunny the original show was, especially now that the series' continuation, Fuller House, has been given a second season on Netflix.

Married... with Children

Pushing against the borders of television decency was a pretty risky thing to do back in the days of Married… with Children, and no one pushed harder than Fox's original hit sitcom. That level of borderline-repulsive sass was something different in the '80s and '90s, but watching the exploits of Al Bundy now, it's clear that the program was pretty much an equal mix of embarrassingly easy fat jokes and sex jokes… and nothing else. Seeing what Ed O'Neill and Katey Sagal are truly capable of as actors just makes the broad, lowbrow junk of Married more embarrassing to watch. While it has a place in TV history, it should probably just stay there.

Hercules: The Legendary Journeys

It's really hard to imagine a time when Hercules was seriously considered a watchable TV show, but six seasons can't be wrong. While the sword-and-sorcery adventure was one of the more popular syndicated TV shows of its era, its villain-of-the-week formula, grating soundtrack, and widespread overacting haven't withstood the test of time. TV audiences have come to expect a sense of continuity in a multi-season TV show, but Hercules completely ignored the linear flow of time and just did whatever, whenever, including rewriting the characters' own stories multiple times without any regard for the past. Once you have Herc witnessing the birth of Jesus, you've gone too far. At least we had Xena…and who needs a plot when you have Lucy Lawless?

Rugrats

It may be sacrilege to disparage any classic Nicktoon, but a show that once seemed like a clever look at the world through the eyes of infants has lost a lot of its charm—not least because it's hard to look past the constant baby talk and the grossly negligent parents. Angela never gets the discipline she needs to straighten out, everyone just keeps on having more babies, and anyone could have guessed that Chuckie would still be just as awkward in the show's unnecessary continuation, All Grown Up! Until someone comes along to animate the characters as balding, overweight 30-somethings struggling with depression and mortgages, we should probably just stick with Doug.

How I Met Your Mother

It's a sitcom about a dad who keeps his kids on a couch for nine years while he tells them, in great detail, about all of his greatest sexual conquests. The show's titular question was barely even answered by the end of the series, and in retrospect, the circuitous non-conclusion to the story fatally undermines How I Met Your Mother's replay value. (The forced in-jokes and cloying humor don't help, either.) Now that the nine-year nightmare's spell has been broken, we can live our lives again. Avoid the reruns; go forth and be free.

Highlander: The Series

Although the production value of Highlander: The Series was widely praised by critics at the time, television fantasy has come a long way since the 1990s. In an age when HBO spends as much as $10 million per episode to create Game of Thrones and audiences are used to seeing big screen quality on their TVs, the CBS show based on the film of the same name now looks terribly dated—and its problems go deeper than aesthetics. What at that time seemed like a sprawling epic has revealed itself as little more than a series of formulaic hourlong confrontations, pitting Duncan MacLeod (clansman and pupil of his movie namesake Connor) against one disposable immortal after another. Worse still, British actor Adrian Paul's performance is nowhere near the bar established by Christopher Lambert in the 1986 movie, lacking the rough edges and cool wit of the original Highlander.

The A-Team

The dramatic increase in TV production budgets over recent years has led to audiences expecting a certain amount of realism, and this is especially true when it comes to violence. As series like The Walking Dead continue to push boundaries, shows made in the days before a man could reduce another man's head to bloody mush with a baseball bat on primetime television begin to look awfully tame. The A-Team falls under this umbrella, a show on which thousands of mags of ammo are used on a weekly basis and remarkably, nobody ever dies. The longer the show went, the more ridiculous it became, getting to the point that a helicopter crashing into a mountainside and falling to the ground in a fireball caused little more than a scratch. Re-watching The A-Team today is guaranteed to awaken a bloodlust that you probably didn't know you had.

Saved by the Bell

While '90s spinoffs Saved by the Bell: The College Years and Saved by the Bell: The New Class have always been nigh-on unwatchable, the original show was once considered essential children's television. Digging out the NBC high school sitcom for your kids to watch today isn't advisable, however, as many of the lessons are painfully dated. The episode "The Mamas and the Papas" makes for particularly cringeworthy viewing, pairing the kids up in an effort to teach them about married life. The tone of the episode is summed up by A.C. Slater's definition of a "women's movement" (when she puts on something cute and moves into the kitchen). It also becomes apparent over the course of the show's four seasons that Zack Morris has a severe gambling problem, with every other episode involving Preppy making some kind of bet at the expense of his friends.

Xena: Warrior Princess

New Zealand-made cult series Xena: Warrior Princess is mainly remembered for the way it challenged female stereotypes and the discussions that raged over its supposedly lesbian subtext, though two aspects of the campy classic that largely escaped criticism at the time were its questionable production values and clumsy directing. This was always a show that asked you to suspend your belief for its duration, but watching it now, it's hard not to notice the multitude of reused extras and recycled sets. The tonal shifts also take some readjusting, with moments of dark violence randomly giving way to full-on musical numbers that make less sense than the show's version of ancient Greece, which is inexplicably rife with American slang. While Aphrodite's Valley-girl persona used to feel like a welcome quirk in a show built around them, in reality it's just one of the many things about Xena that give it a distinctive B-movie feel.