#I just hate how messy and unfinished her plot feels

[sassy-hedgie]

in my doctor who rewatch and finding myself annoyed they had a whole plot about a ‘nice dalek’ and going inside a dalek and everything….and somehow the whole ‘oswin’ dalek thing never comes up????

like i know they kinda hand waved how much she even remembers from that time but idk it felt a bit silly

[bueckers]

UNFINISHED BUSINESS ━━━ paige bueckers

i don’t wanna fight, but you got the wrong vibes. let me get you right, it’s how i apologize. ✶

synopsis: she broke it off, but has since had a hard time leaving her alone… especially when having to see her in person.

pairing: paige bueckers x fem oc

warnings: smut with plot, p eating ( p is literally EATING ), fingering, thigh riding, and slight angst.

notes: this is ridiculously long. in honor of her fit here, enjoy.. i loved writing this almost as much as i love the song lol. lmk if i should make a part two or maybe a series!

Nervous, excited, and borderline bald from tugging at my hair—these were all the things I had felt the moment I stepped into the WNBA 2024 All-Star Game.

I would be seeing Paige tonight. Paige would be seeing me tonight. Paige knew I knew she would be seeing me tonight, and I knew Paige knew she would be seeing me tonight.

When Paige and I first started hooking up, it was never supposed to be anything serious. She was sidelined with a torn ACL, and I knew she was in a dark place, struggling with everything that came with being forced off the court. I think that’s why it started, honestly. She needed an escape, something to make her forget for a little while, and I was there.

Paige and I have known of each other for years, though. We both came up in the basketball world at the same time, our names being tossed around in the same circles since high school. We’d cross paths at AAU tournaments and national showcases, always on different teams but always aware of each other.

Back then, our support for each other was more from a distance, and it wasn’t until college that things started to shift. We crossed paths more often, whether it was at games, media events. The rivalry between our schools added a new layer to our interactions, but by then, we had leveled up from distant competitors to something more like casual friends.

Those moments were what led us to where we eventually ended up. The more we talked, the more we realized how much we actually had in common—our experiences, our struggles, the pressure to perform, and the constant scrutiny. It felt natural, easy, to let our guard down with each other, which is why when her injury happened and everything else in her life felt like it was falling apart, I wasn’t surprised when we fell into it.

We had an agreement. Not one that was ever talked about soberly, but the way it happened just fell into place so perfectly that we didn’t need to. We’d meet up when it was needed, no commitments, no expectations. Just two people finding comfort in each other, filling a void that we couldn’t fill on our own. It was convenient, effortless, and most importantly, it worked for the both of us. I guess I figured if I kept things casual, I wouldn’t get caught up in something messy. I didn’t want to be the one to complicate her life even more.

We’d cross paths after games, during off-season, or whenever our schedules aligned, slipping into each other’s lives for a few hours at a time. She knew how to keep me at arm’s length, just close enough to keep me coming back but far enough to never let me in too deep. She knew exactly how to make me feel needed without ever giving too much of herself away. It was maddening, really—how she could be so vulnerable one minute, showing me sides of herself that no one else got to see, and then switch off just as quickly.

The more we hooked up, the more I started to realize I was getting too close. I could see it in the way she’d look at me sometimes, like she knew I was starting to care too much. And the worst part was, she didn’t seem to mind pushing me right to that edge. She’d say something that made my heart race, or she’d touch me in a way that felt like it meant something, only to pull back and remind me of our status. She was always in control, always the one with the upper hand, and I hated how easily I let her have it.

And then it was all done. She cut things off with a cold finality that I still can’t even believe. No explanation, no soft letdown—just a sudden, brutal end. It was like she knew exactly when I’d reached that point and she didn’t hesitate to remind me that it was never supposed to mean anything at all.

“I’m gonna go grab some snacks, alright? Try to look a little more happy for the jumbotron,” JuJu teases, getting up from her seat. I gasped, barely having any time to process her insult as she scooted between me to get to the stadium stairs.

“Very funny,” I muttered, watching her walk away.

Alone now, I focused on the game, doing an extremely good job at hiding the gnawing in my chest. I’d say I have a good poker face, but Paige would agree to disagree. My phone buzzed, jolting me from my thoughts. It was her and she’d finally found you. She was on the other side of the arena, clearly getting a kick out of having you in her view.

you mad at me or just deep in thought?

I rolled my eyes back to the deep depths of hell. Another text from her.

you look good tonight

you too. how’s the game?

As soon as I hit send, I regret it. I should have ignored her. I should have said something snarky.

Her reply comes almost immediately.

could be better. thought about coming over

what stopped you?

You watched her text bubble practically stutter, making you quirk an eyebrow.

juju. i didn’t wanna make it awkward.

lol. okay.

actually, scratch that. leave w me.

I shifted in my seat, my hands suddenly clutching my phone a little tighter.

paige, no.

why not?

I shut off my phone just in time for JuJu’s return, watching as she squeezed through mounds of people to get back to me. She handed me a cherry slurpee, which would however be gone in ten minutes.

“Thanks, sugar,” you teased her, wrapping your lips around the straw and taking a nice, long sip. She shook her head at me as she focused on the game again, nachos in hand. Ping.

Tell her don’t get too comfortable 😂

I could even feel her eyes boring into me from the other side. I could picture the stupid smirk or gummy smile she’d have. I turned my ringer off and silenced Paige’s notifications before slipping my phone into my back pocket and reverting my attention back to the game. It’s almost over.

Fast forward to the final buzzer, and Juju and I made our way down to the court, weaving through the crowd of fans and players. I always loved the energy in a room of women’s basketball players and fans— there were always a million things going on at once. As we reached the court, we spotted Caitlin, who was already deep in conversation with a couple of other players.

“Great game, Cait,” I said, pulling her into a light hug. “Guess nobody busts your butt as good as SC, huh?” I pulled back first, resting my hands on my hips. I could say I’ve known Caitlin as long as I have Paige, but Cait doesn’t know me the way Paige does.

Caitlin laughed, rolling her eyes good-naturedly. “Yeah, yeah, Miss Championship. but don’t get too cocky now.”

Juju laughed alongside me, adding a quick comment about how USC would give her a run for her money next time. The conversation flowed easily, a mix of post-game analysis and friendly banter. I scanned the court for a brief moment, knowing exactly who I was looking for.

Sure enough, out of the corner of my eye, I saw Flau’jae and Paige making their way over. I braced myself, knowing the cameras would be all over this reunion, and the media would have a field day with it. Paige looked as confident as ever, her stride always one that grabbed attention.

“Hey, y’all,” Paige said, her voice smooth, effortless. She exchanged hugs and high-fives with everyone, her presence commanding attention as always. When she reached me, she didn’t hesitate to pull me into a hug, her hand resting on my hip before snaking around to my lower back.

And then I felt it—her hand slipping lower, fingers grazing the fabric of my mini skirt. I could hear the smirk in her voice as she leaned in, her breath warm against my ear. “Good to see you.” Just close enough to keep me coming back.

I pulled back slightly, meeting her eyes. There was that smirk. My heart was pounding, a mix of frustration and something else I didn’t want to acknowledge. “You too,” I managed, keeping my tone as neutral as possible, pulling back with a tight-lipped grin that looked friendly enough to anyone who didn’t know what was going on. Which was everyone.

The group continued chatting, oblivious, obviously. You’d found out the one thing you hated about being around Paige was the overwhelming current of being the only ones in the room who knew how each other was feeling. Paige, ever the actor, kept up her usual easygoing demeanor, but I could feel her gaze on me, like she was waiting for something. I tried to focus on the conversation, but it was impossible with her so close, the warmth of her hand still lingering on my skin.

When the small talk finally wound down, and the others started drifting away, Paige moved closer, her eyes locked on mine. She leaned in again, her voice low, almost a whisper. “C’mon. Meet me,” she coaxed, her breath warm against my ear. Her fingers brushed lightly against my side, tracing a path.

I hesitated, the resolve I’d built up over the past hour crumbling under the weight of her presence. She was testing me, pushing every button she knew she could. And damn it, it was working.

I finally nodded, barely audible. “Okay.”

It was all she needed. A single, one-word confirmation that I wanted her as bad as she does. She took my phone out of my pocket for me, placing it my hand as she said her goodbyes to everyone else, leaving me there. I suppose it was smarter for her to do that anyway.

Shortly after Paige’s departure, I made my way out as well. JuJu wasn’t a tough barrier to get past. I told her to finish up her conversations, and that I’d see her back at the hotel. I wasn’t quite show how long my excuse would suffice, but I hoped she’d find her way to the bar or something after.

I don’t know why I listened. Watched my fingers click on her contact and give the driver her hotel’s address. It was like I was compelled from the moment she’d touched me, and to be honest, I don’t think I’d be surprised if that was the case.

The Uber ride felt interminable, each passing moment only heightening the anticipation and anxiety. I could barely focus on the city lights flashing by outside, my mind consumed with the impending confrontation and whatever would follow.

Finally, I was able to make my way to her room, feeling the cool air of the hallway against my skin as I knocked on the door. When Paige answered, her smile was as infuriatingly charming as ever, and she pulled me inside with a warm, yet testing glint in her eye.

The moment the door clicked shut behind us, Paige’s demeanor shifted. Before I could voice any protest, her lips were on mine, kissing me with an urgency that made my heart race. I barely had time to process the sudden change before she deepened the kiss, her hands roaming possessively over my back.

I tried to pull away, my mind still reeling from the fact that I was even here, but her grip tightened, pulling me closer. “Paige,” I murmured against her lips, trying to catch my breath. “We need to talk—” but as much as I tried to voice it, I knew that isn’t what we both really planned to do.

She silenced me with another intense kiss, her fingers tangling in my hair, guiding my head to tilt for better access. Her touch was relentless, her body pressing against mine with all the need in her body. “I don’t wanna fight,” she whispered between kisses, her breath hot and heavy against my skin. “Jus’ wanna be close to you.” She breathed in my scent, and I melted.

The words were almost lost in the heated moment, but I could feel the sincerity. She pulled back just enough to look into my eyes, her gaze smoldering with an intensity that made me rethink actually standing on business. She waited, trying to see if I was really against this. I licked my lips, glancing at hers.

I didn’t stand a chance.

Her lips found mine again, and the world narrowed to the press of our bodies. Our kisses were feverish and desperate, each touch holding some type of meaning. Paige’s hands roamed over my skin like there were so many options in a candy store and she couldn’t pick just one. In this case, one spot to focus on. Her mouth trailed down my collarbone, leaving a path of pinkish marks.

Our bodies were pressed together and refusing to let go. Paige guided me towards the bed, her hands never leaving my body, her lips continuing their assault on my skin. When she finally lowered me onto the bed, I was needy and breathless and finally feeling a little more realistic.

“P, I’m still mad,” I tried to insist, though my voice wavered as I watched her begin to undress. She unzipped her Nike vest slowly, the sound of the fabric sliding down her body making my pulse quicken. It fell to the floor, and she ripped off her shirt with a sudden, breathless intensity, revealing her sports bra. The sight of her, partially unclothed and vulnerable in front of me again left me speechless.

“I know,” she murmurs, her head slightly tilted as she looked at me all-knowingly. “And ima’ make it up to you, I promise. Just let me get you right.” Her fingers trailed up my bare legs, eliciting a small gasp from my lips. She tugged at the hem of my skirt, pulling the fabric down and grabbing my panties in the process. I watched her do it, in utter disbelief that this was how I was spending my night.

Her fingers graze teasingly against my kneecaps, sending shivers through my body, before she gently but firmly peels my legs apart. I look down at her. “You’re just trying to distract me,” I say, but there’s no heat behind the words.

Paige smirks, a knowing look in her eyes as she falls to her knees, her hands sliding over my thighs. “Maybe,” she admits, her voice dropping into a low, sultry tone as she tucks her lip between her teeth. “But you can’t say you don’t want this too.”

She’s right, and we both know it. The way she’s touching me, the way her eyes are locked onto mine with that look. The same one that knows she’s getting her way tonight. My worries seem so distant now, nothing more than a whisper of irritation in the back of my mind, easily drowned out by the way Paige’s hands are moving.

I begin to say something, but she easily cuts me off by diving into me with no warning, immediately humming against my cunt in satisfaction. Her eyebrows were furrowed as her tongue made some deliberate strokes, seemingly in disbelief of the way I tasted. She looks up at me as she delves in, a sight beautiful enough for the Louvre but way too sinful.

She says something I can’t hear, but I do catch a, “Can’t leave you alone, ever. Fuck.”

“Yeah?” I muster out, my breath a careless whisper.

Paige smiles against me, loving the cocky tone in my voice as she responds with a fast nod, the movement making me gasp. “Yeah.”

From there, every moan and gasp from me seems to fuel her desire, making her work even harder to drive me wild. Her hands grip my hips firmly, keeping me in place as her mouth and tongue continue their relentless assault. In the haze of ecstasy, all I can focus on is the feeling of her between my legs, making good on her promise to get me right, leaving me utterly consumed by the pleasure she’s giving.

I come, loud enough that the neighbors might know Paige’s name, but she keeps going. It becomes too much, enough for me to whine and pull away, scooting a little bit higher on the bed. She isn’t going for it, though, and immediately brings me back to her mouth, wrapping my legs in her thick arms.

“Where you tryna’ go, princess?” she teases. The sensation of her mouth and fingers on me is so intoxicating that I can barely respond before she pulls back entirely, rising to her feet. She begins to peel off her pants, her movements slow, leaving me breathless and frustrated.

“Seriously?” I complain.

“Chill,” she responds with a husky chuckle, towering over me in the sexiest way explainable. It’s like she contemplates something in her head for a moment, leaving me dripping wet and needy before her.

Finally, Paige steps closer, her hands sliding down to her sports bra. With a teasing glance, she pulls it off, revealing her bare chest. My eyes widen as I take in her form, unable to tear my gaze away. She then sits back down, positioning herself comfortably on the edge of the bed. “Want you to get on my thigh, baby, m’kay?” And there was no room for argument.

I crawl toward her, a mixture of urgency and anticipation in my movements. Once I’m seated on her thigh, I start to ride it slowly, the friction sending waves of pleasure through me. I truly can’t believe we haven’t done this before. The way she flexes, the way I can feel her muscle.. it’s all too much.

I roll my head back, needing more. My hands find Paige’s boxers, slipping into them with ease as she watches, her eyes moving more than her actual head. My fingers find their way to her core, exploring.

Paige’s breath hitches, her fingers gripping my hip as she watches me intently. “You like that, don’t you?” she breathes, her voice filled with a mixture of desire and all things Paige. “You’ve got me exactly where you want me.”

I stare at her. My body and arm moving repeatedly, my hair a bit puffy at this rate, and a panting mess. Paige raises her thumb to my plump and parted lips, slipping it in. I moan out, forced to suck around it as I squeeze my eyes shut.

Paige is in a trance, completely focused on the warmth around her thumb and how your small fingers disappear into her. “So, so, so good. Love seeing you above me, baby. So pretty.” I couldn’t understand how she could say things like these, and happen to not mean them, but it was the last thing on my mind.

“Mfmfmm, I’m gonna come. Again.”

Paige’s response is a series of breathy moans, her hands gripping my hips tightly as she keeps me pressed down, every thrust and touch pushing us both closer to the edge.

As she finally shudders, her release crashes over her like a tidal wave, her body trembling violently. The sensation of her coming around my fingers makes my own climax come shortly after. I cry out, my own pleasure peaking as I grind against her, my fingers thrusting in and out.

Our combined releases feel explosive, a storm of heat and passion that has us both gasping and moaning. I feel her tremors against my fingers as I continue to move, riding out the last waves of ecstasy before finally collapsing against her, both of us spent and tangled together in a sated, sweaty mess.

I think I’ll regret this in the morning. But right now? I’ve never been happier.

[cool-island-songs]

twenny for the ship bingo!!

Sorry this took so long! Thank you for the opportunity to sell ppl on my version of Twenny lol

I’m stubborn Creek trash, but I’m cool w/ Twenny and always at least check it out. Seems there are more (and darker) Twenny fics now bc of the drug connection between their families. I tend to prefer angsty Twenny fics where Tweek is still crazy about Craig but something’s preventing them from being together. I like fwb and platonic Twenny best, but I think it’s a rly interesting dynamic overall and am interested to see how it’s developed when romantic on one or both sides.

Kenny’s often used in fics as a vehicle to make people jealous (e.g., Stan and Craig in endgame Style and Creek fics, respectively). It seems a bit unfair to Kenny, but I read all of these nonetheless (and he often doesn’t seem to mind). I don’t entirely agree w/ fanon consensus about “slut” Kenny. That he’ll do anything for money is more of a crack at his poverty - it’s not like he wanted to blow Howard Stern. He obviously rly wants that bj from Tammy, but they’re already dating when he finds out she’s done it before. He doesn’t even take an active role there, as it only goes down after the Jonas bros main plot concludes and she proposes it. I see him as willing to accept advances, but not as forward as he’s typically portrayed in fanon.

Fanon Kenny can get pretty rapey, and tbh I hate when he’s reduced to smoking cigs and liking sex in place of an actual personality. Dad-bodded eccentric philanthropist fishing uncle Kenny is so much cooler than all that (he gets bitches bc he’s cool, he isn’t cool bc he gets bitches, kno what i mean?). Given his canonical loyalty, I don’t see him as a cheater. He just wants to be loved and feel pleasure bc he didn’t have much of anything growing up. His Mysterion persona is the closest we get to him being a “bad boy”, which is the role he’s often slotted into in fanon, but he’s much more of a protective big brother and cynical but passionate pursuer of justice than some morally ambiguous anti-hero. Kenny’s good and goofy and sweet, and that can come across clearly in Twenny fics. He also likes a sweet and forward blonde, historically (Kelly, Tammy - her highlights are blond, it counts).

Tweek's more sheltered than Kenny and also more thoroughly emotionally abused and exploited. Kenny’s neglected all around, and his parents are generally not doing great, not able to provide - but he has his ways of coping and escaping. By contrast, Tweek’s family is upper middle class, and his parents could try to be loving and supportive but seem incapable of it. Tweek’s parents also mess w/ his perception of reality considerably while Kenny’s v aware of the reality of his situation. There’s some overlap in their situations, so I find Kenny seeing Tweek as a kind of little brother or alternate version of himself compelling. There’s something to be said for the way blond boys w/ awful home lives and messy hair are periodically slotted into the same role in the series, only to recede into the background. I love them all.

Here are some fics w/ Twenny dynamics I’ve loved:

Delmareve’s unfinished multi-chapter “your princess is in another castle” (main ships Bunny and Creek, but interesting platonic Twenny w/ brief scene where Kenny comes onto Tweek and Tweek shuts down. rly well-developed, unique Tweek w/ trust issues for a reason. Not entirely gay, top Tweek, and he’s not made any less anxious for it which I like)

Flynncantation’s unfinished multi-chapter Down the Rabbit Hole (Creek-centric, Kenny just has a crush on Tweek, but I love the dynamic)

metrophobic’s unfinished multi-chapter Tweeker Nation and related oneshot I Won’t Burn Long (interesting illicit fwb Twenny situation where Kenny has some romantic feelings for Tweek, but resents his bratty immaturity and seems on the verge of being done w/ him. Lotta interesting Kenny perspective on Creek + Tweek). also a few Kinktober drabbles w/ Twenny, this one being my favorite for the sheer SP-like absurdity. I like that metrophobic’s Tweek often has hang-ups about bottoming. Wouldn’t you if your whole town decided you were a bottom at age 10???

All the scarlettshazam Twenny tho it’s been deleted (found it v sex positive, love that 4 Kenny)

towards (likely still in process) multi-chapter Because headstones are not big enough. (Tweek remembers Kenny’s deaths and struggles heavily w/ addiction. rly interesting + dark. also throwing out mb my fave creek breakup angst fic despite it having nothing to do w/ Twenny: oneshot all good things)

Tweekpuncher’s unfinished multi-chapter Slowly, Through a Vector (potentially real upsetting past noncon, but also quite funny at times, such as in platonic Cryde interactions and grp chat w/ Bebe. i recommend it bc the last chapter from Kenny’s POV gave me a diff perspective on what he might see in Tweek and was v powerful). Also love the oneshot bro dont be gay bro just gimme a little kiss on the lips PBJellie Twenny: sad sexy oneshot Black Sheep, SoT oneshot You Best Not Miss, Major Boobage-style oneshot Fantasies Come True (these Twenny dynamics generally revolve around or at least allude to the drug connection) Eerily’s oneshot Bookmarks. Just read it, this one got my ass real good

[stephanythedramaqueen]

Same anon(2). These were the convo I had with a close friend. She thought FF15 was going to be the next iconic FF games alongside FF7, FF10, and FF8. Hell, she told me that FF15 is the FF series version of cyberpunk 2077 in terms of lost opportunities and how messy it was on day one release lmao. I think the ff fan would love to see Nomura's dark & twisted version of FF15 or rather FF Versus 13. Hey, at least we got Verum Rex even if it was only a teaser or an easter egg.

I, too, thought XV was going to be the greatest thing created since sliced bread. I kid you not, pre-release I was loving everything about it, obsessing over it for years, studying every trailer and interview with Nomura I could get my eyes on. FFXIII & VersusXIII were my life’s breath. They were announced together, they got trailers together, they had ads together. I wanted Versus XIII, I was screaming over the rooftops about how amazing Versus XIII was gonna be. I played XIII keeping in mind that Versus XIII was gonna complete it…

And then, well, XV happened.

I will continue to miss what Versus would have been until the day I die. I’m not saying Tabata ruined everything about it but he ruined everything about it. Evil had been defeated that day he left Square Enix. *throws salt after him*

Having played Cyberpunk 2077 upon release, I can safely say that XV wasn’t that much of an unplayable mess, but it was definitely unfinished. You could tangibly feel and see the parts they had to cut out of XV and downgrade in order to release it. Unlike XIII, whose graphics hold up even today, XV looked aged upon release. Mind you, games like The Witcher 3 and Rise of the Tomb Raider came out a year before it, and yet XV looks older than both 😂😂 All the story elements that were amazing were in Versus and they just— didn’t use it?! The story suffered for it and any character who isn’t Noctis felt inadequate because of it. You could argue even Noctis lacked satisfying development.

Verum Rex is Nomura’s little salty baby, borne from bitterness and spite, but still it’s not what Versus would have been. His dream vision has sailed, sunk and dead by a watery grave now, no matter how much (or if) Verum Rex will ever be a thing. It saddens me so much what XV has become of his dream. Nomura once said he considered Sora and Noctis like his sons. After they took Versus away from him and gave it to He Who Must Not Be Named, Nomura never spoke nor drawn Noctis again, until they forced him to do so for that SE cafe.

Oh, boy lemme not even get started about Luna. I could give you a list kilometers long about Maryfreya Sue that I disliked with the intensity of a thousand suns. I hated her so much that I had to distance myself from XV for years bc I couldn’t stand her ass. just thinking about her and the game filled me with murderous intent. Imagine coming off from an amazing FF heroine like Lightning to Lunafreya… how the mighty have fallen. Luna was badly written, hardly a character and mostly a plot device. She couldn’t even compare to a random moogle.

I loved Stella so much and I was so much looking forward to her dynamic with Noctis! I came into their games shipped Noctis and Lightning from the start but I loved Stella. They ruined her when they made her Luna. And made her forgettable. She is so forgettable in fact, that SE isn’t even bringing her up in spin-off games 😂 I don’t think SE will ever indulge in Noctis and Lightning, even tho they like to pair the two of them a lot, I don’t think they’ll deviate from canon too much when it comes to romance, but as long as I don’t have to see Luna’s pretentious, depthless, weeping-about-Noctis-24/7 ass anywhere else, I’m happy.

[greenninjagal-blog]

The Rumor Mill Game (pt2)

You guys asked, and I have no self control at all. Have some more Intrulogical, now with Plot(tm). If you missed part one you can find it [here!]

Summary: If he thought himself a king of the office, then Logan was honored to be the guillotine. [aka When his coworker, Remus, decides to play a game, Logan is going to make sure he regrets it. Even if its the last thing he does.]

Words: 3506

Quick taglist: @chelsvans @faithfulcat111 @felicianoromano @holliberries @jemthebookworm @killerfangirl3 @silverflame-wc @stricken-with-clairvoyancy @thenaiads @treasureofpriam @midnightmagi @shadowjag @residentanchor

Read on Ao3 || My General Writing Masterlist

When Logan had first put on the ring, he hadn’t expected it to end like this.

But that was mostly his own folly: Logan should have realized that based on his (lack of) knowledge concerning the behaviors of Remus Prince, his imagined plan of action would be....upended. After all, he had barely known the man beyond the occasional sight of  him in the break room where he teetered on the edge of the counter sitting much like a king as his subjects bowed before him.

Logan was of the sound impression that absolutely everyone who had been hired for his company was of the particularly stupid brand. Often times he had imagined his boss had sat down in the interviews and hired the first person who walked in and smiled, because clearly Beatrice from Accounting did not know what she was doing and her inability to use Excel spreadsheets had led him to far too many late nights correcting her work.

It was one such night that had lead to this...this ludicrous situation: Logan had been in his office all day practically tearing his hair out over his coworkers inability to count (what did you do with the decimal point, Kyle? Where did this five come from? Why are you all so inept?) and his coffee had gone cold, and he should have been leaving an hour ago, but these pages had been due two weeks ago and Logan hated leaving things unfinished.

He had a headache brewing from staring at his screen for so long. He peeled off his glasses and rubbed his eyes until they watered before glancing at the clock in the bottom of his screen. After a quick and efficiently ruthless curse towards Janet for being so late to turn in any of her sheets, he scooted back in his chair and had left to refill in coffee mug.

The office floor had been deserted for the most part. Logan should have been grateful, because that meant less possible nonsense to distract him from his work.

But unfortunately, he was quite familiar with Jen’s hair in a loose-but-still-formal bun and Quin’s scarf that they wore like a talisman to ward off bad omens. They clutched it the second they noticed Logan approaching the two of them, as if he had been coming to deliver an upsetting diagnosis and not to use the coffee machine they were standing in front of.

And because Logan was absolutely not in the mood to talk to either of them, Jen had caught sight of him and puffed her cheeks in anger, like some sort of puffer fish. She tuned to face him fully with her arms on her hips and gave him some equivalent to a “death glare”, as Logan assumed people would call it.

“What are you doing here?” She asked.

“I work here,” Logan said, perhaps a little snappish, “Now, might I get to the coffee machine?”

She had huffed, tapped her foot thrice, and then shuffled to the side just enough that Logan could get to the coffee machine.

Thankfully, just enough was still technically enough. He placed his mug beside the coffee maker and checked the cartridge for leftover used grinds because-- once again-- all of his coworkers were extremely disappointing when it came to using their brains.

Jen huffed again and she was close enough that absolutely all of Logan’s internal alarms started ringing. He snapped the cartridge --thankfully clean, Logan ideally wondered if maybe it was possible they were learning. Oh wouldn’t that be a miracle?-- closed and debated giving up on the coffee all together. But he could still see grid patterns when he closed his eyes, so he dug out his preferred coffee brand and set up the maker.

Quin opened their mouth and closed it again several times. It was clear from the way they shifted on their feet and and looked anywhere but at Jen or him that they were uncomfortable. Logan found himself praying to gods that he didn’t believe in that they would hold off until he had his coffee and was safely back in his office.

“I see Remus cleaned your mug.” Quin mumbled softly because the gods that Logan didn’t believe in don’t exist and he was on this planet purely to suffer.

But they had made a semi-valid point. Remus had cleaned his cup just as Logan had requested--just as was basic human politeness when using something of someone else’s possession, regardless of the fact that Remus Prince had not asked permission to use it in the first place. Logan felt his nose twitch in irritation at the memory of the other day.

“Yes,” Logan said between his gritted teeth. Had the coffee machine always been this slow? Or perhaps it was showing its age by taking longer to make his miserable coffee. He was sure that he could move some funds around to get them a new machine by Thursday if he could just make it back to his office--

“That’s all you have to say?” Jen sniped, “Just “Yes”? Unbelievable!”

“If you have an issue,” Logan said to her, “Please keep it to yourself.”

She slammed a hand on the counter, “I cannot believe you! Perfect Logan Ackroyd! You’re just like all the rest of them!”

“Curious how this sounds very much like you are not keeping your issue to yourself,” Logan commented.

“Jen--” Quin said, but she acted much like puddle of gasoline after a match dropped on it.

She got red in the face and her neat eyebrows smashed together as she stared down him with a snarl that most certainly did not belong in the workplace. She stamped her foot like some sort of child-- honestly? Logan shouldn’t have been surprised seeing how he had been able to hear the meltdown that happened after her messy breakup with Kyle. It had been so loud that Remus had even had the gall to look moderately shocked when everything had gone down.

“Where do you guys get off on taking advantage of your significant other’s trust in you?” Jen growled, “Is it fun for you? Do you not care about our feelings? Maybe we weren’t so far off when we said you were a robot, Mr. Ackroyd! You’re cold and cruel and I hope that when your affair comes to light--”

“Jennifer,” Logan hissed, “choose your next words extremely carefully, because I have spent eleven hours going over spreadsheets that have been done wrong and am not in the mood to listen to you prattle about lost love. In case you have forgotten, I very much have control over your sector and it will only take three emails to have you demoted and-or removed from this company.”

Jen’s mouth snapped shut.

Logan thought that was the first merciful thing that had happened all day. He picked up his coffee, holding it tightly in his hand despite the heat radiating off it and headed out of the breakroom.

He stopped at the door, as the dregs of the conversation spun through his brain. “Did you imply that I was having an affair?”

Quin was wringing their hands and Jen was clawing her nails into the counter. Still, they nodded.

“Who told you that?”

And really, Logan should have expected the answer. Of course it was Remus Prince, the advertising privateer who had turned the entire company into some sort of drama circus with his half truths and his lack of a mouth filter.

The Robot Extravaganza had stolen the peace and quiet of Logan’s work atmosphere and driven him up the figurative walls. That week alone had eight times more people rapping on his door frame than he had had in the entire year previously. And of course that ridiculous white board they had put up in the far wall as if Logan was incapable of reading and comprehending words. It was unprofessional and childish and Logan had barely gotten any work done when he had been constantly interrupted with mundane questions of “Logan do you need to eat?”, “Logan how do you shower without rusting?”, “Logan do you have batteries or do you plug yourself in at night?”, “Logan!”, “Logan!”, “Logan!”.

Not to mention the way that Remus had laughed the entire time as if he found the idea of Logan being harassed particularly amusing. And Logan hated that laugh. It was terrible and awful and grating, and it made Logan want to tear out his hair because it sounded so much like---

“Is that so,” Logan said absently to Jen and Quin. “Remus Prince told you I was having an affair.”

He shifted to hold his mug with both hands, his eyes slipping over to that counter where Remus had been sitting before, with that same mug between his legs daring suggestive thoughts. How many times had Logan seen him sitting there looking like he could control the whole world with a few crass comments?

It was a game to him, wasn’t it? A game that Remus loved to play because he always won.

And who better to fix that than Logan who had been craving for revenge like it was a figurative itch under his very skin?

“Ah, well then,” Logan said and then because he was very much not the type to let people misinterpret him, he added, “I hadn’t realized my husband’s antics would upset you so much, Jen. I apologize on his behalf.”

That got their attentions real quick. Quin’s neck cracked with the force of which they turned their head to look him in the eye. Jen blinked several times as if she was having trouble processing things.

“Husband?” Jen repeats, as if she hadn’t heard the term before.

Logan straightened his back, “I’ll repeat myself slower since this seems to be overwhelming for your small brain. Remus Prince and I are married.”

“You’re a real asshole!” She covered her mouth and then fluttered her hands in a bootless waste of motions. “You’re serious? Wait of course you are! How could I forget, necktie! Oh my god, you’re serious. You and Remus?”

Logan took a sip of his coffee. “I have spreadsheets to amend.”

“Wait wait wait! I want details! Logan get back, here!” Jen screeched after him.

Logan wondered vaguely if this was the reason why Remus spread these rumors so often: the short zappy thrill that had ignited his neurons was much more effective than his coffee could ever hope to be. And Jen had believed him without a hesitance-- which truly was revealing of her hot headed nature. It was, dare he say, exciting. He hadn’t felt this way since his college lab days when he had tackled the creation of experiments with unbridled vigour.

Just how much was she willing to accept just because Logan had been the one to tell her? Just how wild of an accusation could Logan offer up before she wisened up? How quickly would this get back to Remus?

Logan itched to set up an experiment to test it all out. After all he would only get one chance to do this: most certainly when Remus gathered wind of how Logan had turned his false information back on him, Remus would come clean and admit that they had never even seen each other.

It would ruin both of their reputations. Remus as someone who spread truths, and Logan as someone who could be believed in every instance.

But Remus would still choose it over allowing anyone in the work area to think they were married. Logan knew this easily, obviously, irrefutably. They were strangers, not even acquaintances.

“Janet! Janet!” Jen screeched surprisingly loud for someone of her stature. “Janet did you know that Remus and Logan are married?” 

Logan hadn’t realized Janet was still there at all, but at the accusation she flung backwards from her cubical in her rolling office chair and nearly crashed into Logan on just feet from his private office door.

“Run that by me again!” She demanded, “Remus and Logan?”

Logan opened his door and let himself in but before he could close it, Janet wedged her foot in the way.

“No way! Remus doesn’t wear a ring!”

“Allergic to metals,” Logan listed off the top of his head.

“You don’t wear a ring, either!” Janet said grabbing at his hand and nearly causing him to spill his coffee.

And well….

Quin, Jen, and Janet were all standing at his door, ready to believe whatever he said. He could have just said he was also allergic to metals too, but there was dubious gleam in Janet’s eyes, because yes, this is the sole thing she seemed to be knowledgeable about.

If Janet didn’t believe him now, then Jen would get even more upset at him than before and that would ruin the surprise for Remus tomorrow. A half baked revenge wouldn’t be nearly as good as the one he was expecting.

So he needed a ring.

His eyes slipped over his shoulder to the dinner jacket slumped on the chair in the corner of the room, crumpled and abandoned and gathering dust with the filing cabinet and the box of records that Logan had arranged his first week on the job. 

He needed a ring.

And really it was just for one night.

He could pretend.

So Logan swallowed the sudden unexpected lump in his throat and tracked the three steps to the chair to dig the silver band from the pocket. He tried to remember how long it had been there, how long he had tried shoving it from his mind, and pretending like it and the jacket and that night had never existed. 

It had been a reminder for so long now: like a flashing sign in the night had warned him that a relationship would never be worth that again, that romantic pursuits were frivolous and fleeting and meaningless.

Regardless, it felt like putting on one of his favorite ties, like slipping into his shoes that were broken in perfectly, like it was made for him.

(It hadn’t been and wasn’t that the most ridiculous part of the story?)

It was only for one night, so he let Jen and Janet and Quin ogle over it and answered their questions efficiently. He tore into Remus’s reputation as subtly as he could, making Quin flee the room and Janet fan her face and Jen cackle. He made up a story about a summer wedding, about a honeymoon he thought was just ridiculous, about late night activities he could never imagine doing with anyone.

And when they left, Logan had stared at the band engraved so delicately for another ten minutes. 

“A robot,” Logan said to himself.

Is that what he had thought, too? 

Logan shook his head to clear his mind. He tossed the ring in his pencil cup and gathered his bag and car keys.

If he allowed himself to ignore the lapse in reality, he could even pretend like using the ring in this fashion was the same as saying “Fuck you” to the man he had almost married a year ago.

It was just one night, and an hour or so tomorrow morning after all.

Logan arrived the next day earlier than normal, which was an unexpected surprise. He got to flick on the lights and watch the floor illuminate itself. His shoes made a lovely type of clack on the tiling.

It used to feel lonely, being this early to work, but Logan found himself distracted by the anticipation of the days promised events.

He finished correcting Janet's spreadsheets and sent them off for proper filing, reorganized his desk, slipped on his ring, and managed to get his coffee brewed before most of the office had come alive. 

"Holy shit," he heard Kyle whisper to Max, "Is Logan smiling?"

Curious. It seemed that he was. Logan settled himself against the wall of the break room, Remus’s preferred cup in hand, where he had an excellent view of the cubical where Remus came up with his schemes. Jen, Janet, and Beatrice were already huddling around the entrance, much like a committee of domesticated vultures preparing for a feast.

By the time that Remus showed up to the office, running three minutes late, Logan was nearly giddy. Perhaps he could understand why Remus did what he did, if this was the sort of feeling that he experienced every time he opened his mouth.

Logan had seen many beautiful things in his lifetime; one of his hobbies was visiting art museums, art galleries, movie premieres and the likes while on his mandatory three weeks of time off from work. Still nothing could quite capture the glee that was invoked directly into Logan when Remus’s eyes had widened and his jaw dropped and his face flushed with embarrassment when Quinn squeaked at the sight of him. 

Remus Prince looked like a work of art when the world dumped him on the floor and left him too shocked to speak.

If he thought himself a king of the office, then Logan was honored to be the guillotine. 

Except.

“Logie!” Remus whined, throwing his arms up, “I thought we agreed to keep it a secret!”

Logan’s smile vaporized, almost instantly, “Wait--”

“You Mischievous Mathematician, You!” Remus giggled crossing the area far quicker than a person should be able to cross that distance. Logan blinked and suddenly Remus was right in front of him, a foot, half a foot, a handful of inches. And his voice only seemed to get louder, bolder, more excited with every step. Logan had a hypothesis that all twenty eight of the workers on the floor were watching them with baited breath.

“Well I’m happy!” Remus said loudly for Kyle and Jen and Janet and Beatrice and, and, and-- “I’ve missed getting lunch together! Let’s go to the sandwich shop down the street!”

“Absolutely not--”

“Or we could do that Thai restaurant that’s your favorite!” Remus said, which tripped Logan up because Remus had noticed he preferred Thai? Logan couldn’t even remember the last time he had Thai! How could Remus have possibly known he liked Thai? 

“I’ll pay!” Remus said when Logan hadn’t responded quick enough to turn down the lunch proposal. “Oh this is going to be so much fun, Lolo!”

And Remus came in far too close, closer than anyone has been to him in a year. His eyes were brown with flecks of green dark enough to seem like a swamp at Twilight. They gleamed as he fluttered his lashes at Logan and his mouth curls into a pointed smile.

“Let’s play,” Remus said so softly that Logan himself could barely hear it. And then he pulled back, and stepped away with Logan’s coffee in his hands. He took a long sip and licked his lip afterwards. “Mmm! Just how I like it Lo! You’re so good to me!”

Logan knew for a fact that Remus did not like black coffee. He’d seen the numbers that went into buying creamer for the break room.

Just what did Remus think he was doing? Playing along with Logan’s rumor reversal? Encouraging it? 

Remus smiled at him. “Lunch it is!” He said and waved Logan goodbye with his fingers.

Of course Logan could out him right there, right then. All he had to say was that it was a lie and that he and Remus were in no way married and he had no intentions of having lunch together. But for some reason the words seemed to be figuratively jammed in his throat, leaving him with nothing more than splutterings to vocalize his frustration.

Fine. Logan inhaled through his nose, curled his lip, and twisted his watch on his left hand to center his thoughts. Remus would like to play a game?

Fine. Logan could play a game with him. 

“Aren’t you forgetting something, dearest?” Logan said before Remus could get too far away.

He could see the way Remus’s eyes light up at the nickname, the twitch of his mustache where he was struggling not to laugh too boldly. “Am I?”

“I did make you coffee. Do you not tip your barista?” 

“Ah,” Remus swirled the mug, “And how does my “barista” like his tips then?”

When Logan had put on the ring, he had not expected to end up with Remus’s lips on his.

And yet.

Remus kissed like he was dying and wanted to make every second last, like he was living for the moment, like he had nothing left too lose. Logan thought it was ridiculous that he tasted like pickles this early in the morning.

“I think you’ll find I won’t fold that easily, Specs,” Remus breathed when he pulled back.

Logan replied, “May the best man win.”

And then he took his coffee back out of Remus’s hands and headed back to his office with that ring firmly on his hand. It appeared that he would need it for just a bit longer.

Part Three

[everlastingfable]

a jumbled mess of my thoughts about voltron

This’ll probably be the messiest post you’ll ever read. I’m done trying to finish this and edit it into something coherent, so I’m just combining the 3 drafts I have written out into one massive post. I doubt anyone will read this whole thing, but each draft is a sort of rewrite of the last, so there’s a lot of overlap. But there’s also a lot of new thoughts too as I kept thinking about this. There’s also a lot of unfinished thoughts.

There’s mostly negativity in this btw. This fandom had/has an amazing ability in making you think that this show was utter garbage. on par with riv//erdale or s//pn, but it really wasn’t. Like many shows they had weak points, it was never perfect, but it’s much better than we’re told to remember it as.

Intro from Draft 3 because I liked the way I started it:

This is all of my thoughts about Voltron, the show itself and the fandom. I have tried to write this post out for over a year or two now, so it was originally intended to be my final thoughts about the show. Obviously, it’s evolved since then into whatever this is. There may be some things that I’ll be wrong about, because I’m not about to dig through hundreds of discourse posts and old interview videos to prove a point that I doubt anyone’s gonna care about. This will 100% be based on my thoughts, opinions, and experiences.

That said, I don’t even know how to begin to describe how much I love this show. I’m probably one of the few people who have no regrets about enjoying this show as much as I do. I’d wholeheartedly recommend watching it, because it’s genuinely a good show. Voltron did the unimaginable for me. I don’t usually enjoy sci-fi stories. I especially don’t enjoy mecha stories. Yet somehow, Voltron combined the two and made a show that I loved so much I can’t stop thinking about it even though it ended over 2 years ago.

Draft 1: thoughts about a year after it ended without rewatching any seasons since it ended

It’s been about a year since voltron ended. I never wrote my thoughts about s8/the show then so here it is now. Because I decided to wait a year I honestly don’t remember a lot of specifics. But I still have a lot to say about it. This is very long and is basically everything I have to say about this show. I love voltron. It’s been an important part of my life during college. 90% of all papers I wrote were about voltron. But as much as I love it, I won’t deny that it fell apart at the end. 

Note: I tried to categorize these thoughts so I don’t get off topic and can talk about everything fully. But because they overlap so much there’s definitely some minor repeats when I connect two parts but decided to hold off talking about it all the way until the right section.

PRODUCTION

This is something I’ve expressed concern over while it was airing, but in a span of 2 and a half years, they premiered 78 episodes. That’s a lot, especially when you consider that production for s3 started after s1 premiered. There’s a lot of really good voltron review videos out there that aren’t just “oh I’m so cool I hate voltron” but there was one that talked about how the production was a mess and the writers couldn’t make up their mind for the endgame ship. And while that doesn’t sound like an important issue, it really does show when it comes to how characters are written together and (I think) the fandom war. 

Summarizing what that video said because I don’t remember who made it, the writers/producers never made up their mind on which ship was supposed to be endgame (klance, sheith, allurance, kallura). And this really does show in the show itself. I don’t like klance. I especially hate it because of my experience with the fandom, but I won’t deny that they were sometimes written romantically. The same goes for sheith. And that’s the problem. 

I don’t think the world building parts of the show was fully developed either. Shiro was supposed to be a teen like everyone else but then he was an adult. His and keith’s relationship was honestly vague for a good while. I don’t think anyone really knew how each characters’ relationships with each other was supposed to progress. Was allurance always supposed to be endgame? Because they didn’t really interact that much until like season 6, and then it was kinda sudden from what I remember. There was very little, if at all, parts where we were shown oh allura might like lance romantically. Keith’s relationship with the main cast didn’t exist for like 3 seasons. It was messy. 

Speaking of which, keith disappeared for a good portion of the show. I assume it’s because steven yeun was busy. Which is fine but then I think about how quickly voltron came and went, I wonder why they couldn’t slow down a bit so they could still have steven voice keith during those episodes. Maybe it’s because of how much I love keith, but he honestly felt like a central character to me. 

If I think about teen titans, for example, this show also had 5 main characters. Sometimes certain characters would get a spotlight for a season, but all-in-all they were fairly equally represented. It didn’t feel like robin was the main character. But that’s how I feel about voltron. Keith, and shiro to an extent are the main characters. A good portion of the plot relies on them. Shiro got kidnapped, keith leads them to the blue lion. Shiro is the leader with keith has his right-hand man and they mostly interact with each other. So when shiro “dies” and keith takes over, it starts to feel like keith is now the main character. Now he’s the leader and the arc is about him growing into becoming the black paladin and stopping lotor, who is his main enemy. But then he disappears. 

Again this is most likely because of my bias towards keith, but the episodes after that felt lackluster. Lance didn’t really get his character growth to become a good second-in-command. Because that development was supposed to be based around keith. :P. A big part of lance’s growth is to learn to stop needing to feel that he’s better than keith. And him accepting keith as the black paladin was a huge part of it. But with shiro as the leader again lance loses that development. Keith’s not in the picture anymore, and the person in-charge was already in a leadership position and has nothing to learn by being there. 

Before I go way too deep into my thoughts about the plot/characterization, I do want to mention the animation. The fighting scenes are amazing and one of the most beautiful 2d animation I’ve seen. That is, when it is actually animated and not just the camera panning on a still image. Here’s where my biggest concern over the time comes in. 2 years is absolutely not enough time to animate that many episodes. I was genuinely worried for the animation company because it could not have been a good experience. And yes, we got more episodes sooner, the quality definitely dropped and it’s a real shame. Who knows when we’ll get another american cartoon in this style. I love this animation style but it takes time and a lot of skills to do, so not that many companies do it. I honestly wished they took their time with the show not just to get more time to animate, but also to flesh out some of the plot.

PLOT

As hunk said in one episode, they don’t linger on dramatic events that just happened. This show is very fast paced, and that’s not a bad thing. But they never took the time they needed to really feel the weight of everything that happens. Keith’s galra heritage reveal was basically swept under the rug. So was the shiro clone, lotor’s death, zarkon’s death, naxzela, and so many more. In general, that was a big problem with how the episodes went. If it wasn’t for the sheer number of fanfics covering those topics, they were really swept under the rug. It honestly kinda felt like the writers didn’t know what to do with the aftermath of their reveals. But some of these were pretty essential to the plot of the story. 

Keith’s part galra! So he doesn’t look it but there had to be obstacles with voltron forming the coalition. He’s part of the race that caused this war. I honestly think we should’ve seen that reveal become part of the plot, or what was the point of it? They could’ve just as easily wrote keith to be a regular human just like everyone else. Taking the time to add that part of his character needs to have some significance in the story. And yeah, they had krolia appear but she wasn’t really a significant character except to kinda magically fix keith’s problems. In general it felt like they forgot parts that they were foreshadowing with keith. Why could he turn purple sometimes? Did that quintessence he was hit with fix him or help him hide the galra parts? Why does he look so human? What is up with him having that quintessence sensitivity? I’m all for shows ending with some questions unanswered because sometimes it’s impossible to answer it all and let it feel natural, but this just felt like they forgot or decided it’s too much of a hassle and just ignored it.

Okay going into more specifics now, s8 was kinda meh. It especially felt bad because it came out the same day as spiderverse which had a very similar villain motivation, but objectively done better. I think honerva’s motivation came out of nowhere. We see in the flashback episode that she was so intent on getting knowledge that it literally destroyed daibazaal. So, it was established that her motivation is knowledge. Even though she lost her memory and regained it, as haggar she was still very focused on quintessence. We know she was gathering a lot of it, and maybe they said it and I forgot, but we never knew why. Family wasn’t really shown as a motivation for her. Even with lotor it didn’t seem like she wanted to be a family again, but instead was using him for her own unknown motivations. Anyways, the season felt awkward. And the new dynamic they had really needed more time. The last season should’ve expanded to be at least 2 more. It would’ve fit a lot better imo. S1-2 would have zarkon as the main villain, s3-6 would have lotor, and s7-8 would have haggar, who was also the puppeteer throughout the entire show. But she didn’t appear for s7 and her motivations didn’t really make sense in s8 so it evidently felt rushed. There were also so many major characters in s8 we needed more time to see them interact. 

So the ending with allura becoming constellations. Gonna be honest that whole last part had me confused. Especially with the fact that I barely remember what happened, why are the old paladins like trapped in the lions? I could excuse the other 4 but zarkon? Especially a zarkon that’s not corrupted? It was weird and didn’t make a whole lot of sense, and that’s all I’ll say about that. I don’t even want to try to suggest an alternative because I think that whole last half of the season is so messy it can’t be fixed. But it was so obviously pandering to the fandom it hurt. Lance getting those marks was so obviously referencing when people wanted lance to be altean in response to keith’s galra heritage. The shiro/curtis kiss was very “look see he is gay and not just because we said so” while nice, was very weak (why wasn’t keith in the shot?).

Despite my complaints, I remember liking s8. I really liked the addition of the atlas, even though it didn’t feel like we were watching voltron anymore sometimes. S7 had to be one of my favorite episodes since s2. Not to say that s7 is better or worse, but I really like it because it felt like a genre shift. I usually don’t like space sci-fi or mecha stories. Voltron somehow managed to combine the two and make me love it. S7 did not feel like either of those. First, a good half of it took place on earth. And I believe two episodes didn’t even have the main cast, and when team voltron finally made it to earth, voltron wasn’t even there until the final battle. I genuinely loved it. I think it was a very well done invasion/apocalyptic story that doesn’t get told in animation that often. But if I think about s7 with the rest of the show, it was awful. It broke up the tone the show usually had and it was a very different way of storytelling that voltron didn’t have before. It wasn’t a space sci-fi mecha story, it was an apocalyptic action story. Voltron was so unimportant they sat on a moon for episodes. It stopped becoming voltron and started becoming a spin-off. 

I do have to add that I absolutely loved the color themes in s7. We already had purple for the galra, but in s7 it was very obvious that alteans are themed blue and earth is themed with orange. I loved it so much and it was great. I do like that they gave shiro something to do. Honestly not killing him off in s2 made him an awkward character afterwards. But I didn’t like that they brought back sendak. There was no explanation for it and it wasn’t good imo. He didn’t really do anything besides conquer earth then die. Haggar was also absent the entire season which definitely didn’t help her storyline in s8 because we didn’t know what she was doing the entire time except abandoning everyone who was loyal to her. 

I’m usually not a fan of time skips, it has the tendency to gloss over character development or create glossed over recap. Honestly I wish voltron spent more time over the blade of marmora massacre or just the bom in general. They received no rest. Literally everyone part of that group died except for kolivan. Speaking of that episode, there was no explanation for how keith was able to know where macidus was about to appear and that honestly bugs me. There’s so much about keith we don’t know. He has so many abilities we were just never told. 

Again a lot of problems within team voltron is that there was never any follow up on things that happened, like keith leaving the team. He becomes the black paladin and no one bats an eye. Lance did make one comment about keith leaving but then it wasn’t ever mentioned again. I get that the writers/producers wanted the dynamic the original had, but they didn’t take the time to work up to it. Keith wasn’t a natural leader, but he suddenly is because he spent 2 years on a space whale with his mom and a space wolf. Like I mentioned earlier, voltron feels like keith is the main character but then they dropped him for a few episodes, realized that he’s important and added him back in while saying “oh he went through a time skip so he grew into the role he needs to be in now”. It feels like a cheap pay off.

I’d like to specifically talk about my thoughts on each season and work back but honestly I don’t think I can remember s3-6 separately. So they’re being chunked together. 

Lotor had the potential to be a really great villain. But he had to be foiled with keith. They have a lot of similarities that I think could’ve really played off well together. Lotor isn’t really allowed to have a leadership position. Yeah he was technically in charge while zarkon was recovering, but haggar didn’t really allow him full control. But, he was a great leader. He knew how to read his enemies and form an alliance. Meanwhile, keith had a leadership position thrusted to him, and frankly he wasn’t a good leader. He tends to keep to himself so he never really has to make decisions with a team. It could’ve been great, but shiro had to still be in the story. I’m honestly conflicted about this because on the one hand, I think it really ruined character developments for the main cast, but then I loved the clone shiro plot line. I think keeping shiro prevented keith from growing. He was able to remain dependent on shiro instead of actually bonding with the rest of the paladins. And of course he had to just go awol. Also, lance didn’t really get to have as prominent of a role as I think he could’ve had with keith. 

These seasons are also when the lions stopped being sentient robots that specifically choose their paladins to just really cool spaceships. We don’t get that level of bonding that was so prominent in s1 and 2. That’s also something I’m conflicted with. I think the lion swap was a great way for character developments, but it also removed a lot of it. It kinda made the bonding feel useless. The swap also changed the dynamic of the group. Instead of shiro and allura being co-leaders, and everyone else feeling like they’re on equal footing, it felt like Keith was the leader with lance being a needed right-hand man. Hunk and pidge were off doing their thing and allura was a leader but also not. Maybe if they had spent more time working with this dynamic it would’ve felt better. But they didn’t and it didn’t. Voltron also implied that allura was the only one that could control the castle ship, but then she goes to become a paladin and who’s driving the ship?

I do wish we could’ve gotten more about the altean colony and the reveal about lotor’s plans, but that got overshadowed and forgotten by the clone shiro reveal. Maybe I just missed it, but I wasn’t sure what the galra empire and lotor were collecting quintessence for. Was it just to make mechs to rival voltron? Lotor’s death was also very unclear. 

The coalition was a much needed thing, but I think very badly executed. They were gathering people from malls. These people are regular civilians who probably don’t know how to fight or fly a ship. I thought it was really weird that they were just getting regular people (aliens?) to sign up like they’re applying to be part of the army. But we never see them maybe join the rebel force matt is part of to learn how exactly to help. I think about avatar and how they also had a rag tag group of people to fight against the fire nation, but these weren’t just regular people living in a village. They were either warriors or very skilled benders. The voltron coalition was just regular people. That genuinely annoyed me because the voltron show just felt like those army propaganda ads, but exciting. Not to mention it was a very hard to watch episode. 

It was definitely making fun of how the fandom complains about how characters are getting reduced to a certain characteristic. But it wasn’t done in an entertaining way like the ember island players episode from atla because some of those were legit complaints (like hunk being the fat/food guy) and that stuff wasn’t resolved. Like the ember island players made fun of sokka constantly talking about meat or katara crying all the time, but the show made it very clear beforehand that these characters are much more than that. Is hunk really more than the food guy? As far as the show mentions, the only things he’s done was make the machine to help find the blue lion, and help save the balmera. All of which was in season 1. After that hunk honestly took the backseat in voltron.

I mentioned earlier, but the time skip on the space whale felt like we were cheated out of keith’s character development. I mean we got development, but we didn’t get to see it. The vlog short showed that keith believes a lot of his problems stems from not having a mom (and a dad) in his life. But instead of seeing keith learning to trust and open up to people despite having so many people in his life leaving him, we get a cute montage of him with his mom. As if it makes sense that two years with his mom would fix everything. (side note, I know a lot of people were saying how obvious it was that krolia was keith’s mom, I genuinely did not know until she said so at the end of that episode).

I’m not gonna talk about my thoughts on s1 and 2 because I’m pretty sure I live blogged those and honestly I don’t think I remember it. 

CHARACTERS

Now I’m finally talking about the characters and I’m starting off with keith as if I haven’t talked about him enough already. I love keith. He’s undeniably one of my (if not the) favorite characters ever. And he’s obviously a fandom favorite if we’re considering the two biggest ships in the fandom. Or maybe he really is just the secret main character of voltron. We know so much about him, for someone who loves keith, it’s great. We basically know his entire backstory, and yet we know no one else’s (except maybe lotor but even that’s iffy).

I never rewatched a single voltron episode since it ended, and I can’t watch any of the connected shows (meaning shows that have the same ppl that worked on it or the same fans, think dragon prince and she-ra) because the fandom was the absolute worst one I’ve ever been in and parts legit trigger me. I am fascinated with fandoms. I love it. I chose my major because it was the closest I could get to just learning about them 24/7. But the voltron fandom was so incredibly toxic and over two ships? Honestly the fandom itself was a major reason why I couldn’t get super invested in the later seasons. I get afraid when it seems like a certain ship might happen. I actually hoped that certain characters just didn’t interact. (I’m not gonna get much deeper in this because I don’t want to touch this topic with a ten-foot pole, at least not now) Aside from that, I think that the plot and characterizations for voltron got really messy post s2. The lion switch was never handled well imo, and post switch the lions lost that sentient personality that was established in the first two seasons. It also didn’t make sense aside from the writers wanted everyone in the original lions. Or at least, we never got the proper character developments into those roles. Keith left right after becoming the black paladin. 

I think another major problem with the show is how some decisions felt like pandering. I remember hearing that they didn’t kill off shiro because he was a fan favorite, so he had to stay for marketing and to make more money. But then keeping shiro alive would’ve derailed the original plot idea. I wish I could see how the story would’ve played out with shiro staying dead.

Draft 2: rewatched the show then started writing this

So I wrote a draft of this like a year ago, realized I don’t remember the show much, so I rewatched the whole show and started rewriting my thoughts.

Pre-rewatch thoughts: It was a good show that was poorly executed

Mid-rewatch thoughts: it’s a really good show that just has some weak points (the second half of lotor’s arc, team voltron’s importance in season 4-6 it feels like a lot of filler episodes until keith shows up again)

End-rewatch thoughts: it's actually a really good show. It has some weak points and some really strong points. Season 8 was confusing though. I went through most of it going yeah okay I guess that can happen.

Final verdict: it's a genuinely good show

What went wrong

It ended on its weakest season, which was also the most abstract and different season. While the main antagonist changed throughout the seasons, it still continued to be the galra empire. Even when lotor joined, the team was still fighting fractions of the galra empire. Meanwhile, season 8 didn’t have any conflict with the galra. The antagonists were honerva and the alteans, who are very different types of villains compared to the galra. There was also little build up to that change. Sure, we got to experience that briefly in season 3 when they went to the alternate reality, but I don’t think that was built up well. Also, the protagonists and the audience are just not prepared. We don’t know how the alteans work like the extent of their abilities, but we were given dozens of episodes to learn about the galra. As a result season 8 just wound up with me feeling confused and thinking “uhh sure I guess they can do that, that makes sense maybe?”

It could not pick who its protagonist is. Yeah the five humans plus allura (and coran?) are the main characters but most shows with multiple major characters still focus one one character as the protagonist. Like atla has aang, adventure time has finn, umbrella academy has five. Voltron just never picks someone and the group constantly changes too, so you end up having to not focus on any character for the sake of time. Of course not all shows do that. Teen Titans had each season focus on a particular member of the team, and tbh I was wondering if that was what they were planning for the show, especially when season 2 was so Keith focused but guess not.

It feels like they did not have the time to fully flesh out the story. Voltron came and went so incredibly fast. They had 8 seasons (technically 6 if you group up the halved seasons). But also the show only lasted 2 years. It honestly horrifies me to think of the time crunch everyone on the team was going through, especially the animators. You can see the drop in quality as there were very few scenes that involved actual animation for the middle bulk of the show. So then, how much time did they have to develop the story, in addition to execs telling them what they can and can’t do. There’s so many arcs that seemed to start then get forgotten, and I don’t blame the writers for that at all. Although I wish we could’ve learned more about Lance and the Altean sword and Keith with his apparent quintessence sensitivity, they probably just didn’t have the time to plot those out.

It had too much outside influence. Such as, the writers wanting to kill off shiro, but then being forced to keep him on the show because the execs said to. And honestly, the fandom. For example, the whole last episode with Lance getting the Altean marks (an obvious omage to ppl wanting Altean Lance).

What went right

There’s a reason why the show became so popular (aside from being a reboot of a popular 80′s show) and it’s because of the characters. I’m not about the whole “we become attached to characters because the writers did them wrong but we fans can see the potential and that’s why fan works are better” bs that I see going around this site all the time. The first season particularly wrote these characters so well. They’re relatable but also intriguing enough for you to care about what’s going to happen to them. 

Some thoughts regarding popular fandom discussions:

It’s a plot-driven show with character-focused fans

I like to think of there being two ways to tell a story: by being character-focused or plot-driven. Plot driven shows are ones like atla, young justice, legend of korra, etc. There’s a conflict that gets introduced and the story revolves around that conflict. Character-focused shows are ones like adventure time or we bare bears, they’re less concerned about a plot line and focus more on the characters interacting with their world. Of course all stories incorporate both parts, just some focus more on one than the other. So, here’s where I think a lot of the issues about voltron and the fandom comes from. Voltron is a very obviously plot-driven show but the fandom is very character-focused. I won’t deny I loved the episodes about keith. Season 4 and 5 were hard for me to watch because I missed my boy. But that’s where the arguments come from. People get upset that their fav isn’t in the spotlight

It didn’t queerbait

I understand watching a show for representation, I really do, but voltron is not that show and that's okay. Not every show has to be revolutionary in its representation of marginalized people. I won't pretend to know the harmful tropes for marginalized people. My consumption of media is not usually diverse. But I will stand by my stance that a large part of voltron's later seasons is about the casualties of war. So of course a lot of people died. I also firmly believe that the producers had a much easier time adding diversity to their own created characters than the main voltron characters, because of rights and all that complicated nonsense. So as a result the ones who were more expendable and could die were also the same characters that they could add diversity too.

I’m gonna add the definition of queerbait here so we’re all on the same page:  Queerbait is a marketing technique for fiction and entertainment in which creators hint at, but then do not actually depict, same-sex romance or other LGBTQ representation.

But here’s the thing. We were told at comic-con or one of those cons that Shiro is gay, and he had a boyfriend. They actually gave us that. Yeah it wasn’t as explicit as She-ra got, but that’s another point for later. There was no lying about it. Shiro is canonically gay, and his boyfriend was Adam. If anything, this whole thing came out of wanting Keith in a relationship with Shiro or Lance. Yes. I will admit, there are plenty of scenes between Keith and Lance, and Keith and Shiro that can be read as romantic. Someone correct me if I’m wrong but did any of the cast members tease the possibility of Kl//ance or Sh//eith (VAs don’t count, sorry but they don’t really have a say in the story)? Because unless they did, and they did repeatedly, the fandom queerbaited themselves. So many people in the fandom were so certain that Keith would be in a relationship with one of them, there was basically an all out war. Even if there was a chance, did you really think the creators (who were pretty active in early fandom days) would continue that development? It was so so toxic they were forced to shut off any possibilities of that.

In regards to minority characters

Again, I'll admit vld is not the place to go for real, proper representation. Their characters tend to be characters that happen to be a part of a minority rather than a minority character. wtf does that mean? Well, you can swap (earth) races for just about any character and it wouldn't make too much of a difference in how they act. There's some lines that wouldn't work like Lance's "I'm just a boy from Cuba" but other than that there would be no significant change. Of course this goes down to preference. Would you want a minority character whose struggles reflect those in real life and as a result be defined by that aspect of themselves, or do you want a character that just happens to be a part of a minority group but whose life is not really affected by that? 

Draft 3: months after the rewatch, mostly an attempt to reorganize the previous two drafts

I’m gonna start with the negatives just to get the ranting off my chest. Season 8 was bad. Yeah. No argument there. Although I wouldn’t say it was bad in the same way Game of Thrones and Supernatural was bad. Rather, it was an interesting and complex premise that didn’t have the build up it needed and honestly needed a few more passthroughs to iron out some parts. At worse, I felt it was confusing to the point where I just accepted whatever new worldbuilding thing they threw at me. The issue with Season 8 vs Seasons 1-7 is that Season 8 had a completely different villain, and a brand new cast dynamic. We got 7 seasons (65 episodes) developing the Galra as the villain. We got to learn who they are, their motives, how they operate, etc. Not only that, but they were pretty basic and easy to understand villains. They’re conquerors. They don’t have any sort of magic, they really just use brute force to attack and enslave the planets. In striking contrast, the Alteans in Season 8 weren’t conquerors. They didn’t care about controlling the universe. They also had magic abilities that our main characters don’t understand and didn’t explore. Season 8 had villains who could create illusions, mind control, and manipulate quintessence. The Alteans are leagues beyond the Galra in terms of complexities as an antagonist, but they didn’t get nearly enough time to be fully developed.

Also, Season 8 essentially doubled the cast size. So despite the fact that we have yet to see much of Keith-as-the-black-paladin Voltron group dynamic, now that screentime is being balanced with the MFE pilots and other Garrison characters. Essentially, there were too many characters, and too little time to flesh out the ideas of this season. A side note, Haggar’s (Honerva?) motivations were lame. I think it would’ve been much more interesting if her plans were just to continue the research she did 10,000 years ago with the rift. That would’ve also brought back the rift monsters which we never got an answer for. What even are they? Instead, her goal to have a family again is really weak. Even in the flashbacks she never showed any care for the more familial aspects of her life. It didn’t make sense for that to be her drive. It also didn’t help that Season 8 came out on like the same day as Spiderverse and the antagonists for both had the same goal, but Spiderverse did an immensely better job.

Another thing that didn’t make sense to me was Keith giving the speech to the rest of the Galra. He is not the right character to give that speech. Sure he’s Galra, but he didn’t even know for most of his life. For him to say “we” like he’s also a citizen of the Galra empire feels so weird. He never grew up with the Empire’s influence, and we never saw him experiencing Galra culture with the Blade. He learned about the Galra as an outsider, and despite the fact that he’s part Galra (he doesn’t even remotely look Galra), I don’t think that gives him the authority to say a speech like that. The speech is similar to Zuko’s at the end of ATLA, and that makes me feel like it would’ve been a lot better had Lotor said it. I think even Kolivan would’ve been a better fit than Keith. 

The more I’m writing about Season 8, the more I’m remembering just how messy and confusing it was. Additionally, the last bit of Season 8 was so obviously pandering to the fandom it gives me second-hand embarrassment. Lance getting those marks was so obviously referencing when people wanted Lance to be Altean in response to Keith's galra heritage. The Shiro getting married was just to make it more obvious that he’s gay, but had no build up. (There were definitely more but I didn’t write myself a list and I’m not rewatching that season)

Second, “Voltron queerbaited”. [this was posted before here]

Speaking of which, Voltron premiered summer of 2016 and ended in winter of 2018. That’s about 2 and a half years where they aired 78 episodes. That’s stupid fast, especially for an animated series. I’m constantly worried about what the people working on that show had to endure. For sure, Season 3 with Shiro coming back wasn’t written until at least Season 1. I recalled the execs demanding that Shiro not be dead since he was a popular character. It’s honestly concerning how little time they had to work on the show, and it unfortunately showed. In the later seasons, a lot of the shots were just still frames that moved across the scene. And the plot line with Lotor could’ve used some work. Although, I think Shiro being forced in there was also a reason for it being so shaky.

I honestly hate Seasons 4 & 5. I cannot tell you what happened because my brain keeps erasing it. Obviously, the lack of Keith had a huge impact on my opinion of those seasons, but it also felt like a whole lot of filler episodes, and not the fun ones with character development. With Keith mostly out of the picture, and Lance becoming the right hand of Voltron, that should’ve been a great time to develop Lance to become a second-in-command. To have him go through an arc where he overcomes his insecurities. It would’ve also been an amazing time to develop his and Shiro’s relationship. But we didn’t get any of that. 

I genuinely believe Keith was supposed to stay the black paladin and Shiro wasn’t supposed to come back. Keith would be an amazing foil to Lotor. They’re both half-Galra. They’ve both been given a new leadership role that they don’t want. The middle arc always felt so weak to me, and as I mentioned earlier, the Allura/Lotor interactions were awkward. It feels shoehorned in because someone has to interact with Lotor and I guess the writers decided Allura was the best option?

Season 3-6 felt like the epitome of what happens when showrunners are forced to do whatever the execs say and have no time to properly develop their story. I’ll forever be bitter at all the character and relationship development we lost because of that. We never got to see Keith really learn to open up to the team and start to trust others. But Keith still had to get to that point, which is why I assume they had the time jump for him. It’s so disappointing because we lost what could’ve been a great character development. It also made Keith being the Black Paladin again feel cheap. We didn’t get to see the struggle he had to be the leader Shiro saw he could be. He was just suddenly leading them and they worked like a proper team.

Voltron also had a lot of plot holes. Now, I don’t expect shows to answer every question, because it’s impossible to tie everything up and leave no questions unanswered in a natural way. But, there’s a lot of things that felt like the beginning of a plot line or honestly needed some answers. Like, Lance shifting his bayard to a sword. What was the point of that if it was never mentioned again? It felt like that was an important start to an arc for him that just got forgotten. Also, what was up with Keith’s quintessence sensitivity? How was he able to sense where that druid was. How did he know he could summon his bayard to him. I think the part that bugged me the most was that Keith was the only one who did that. Also, Keith’s eyes becoming slitted during his fight with Kuron was never addressed, and I really wish it was. It felt like such a throwaway moment that could’ve been interesting to explore more. Although I’m not too upset with that one as I think we were given enough to piece together a reason for it. 

[sambergscott]

your son is going to love you

Summary: Peralta dads are cursed, destined to have terrible relationships with their sons. When Jake finds out *he's* going to have a son, he spirals. Amy helps.

goes without saying that if you haven’t watched 7x10 yet maybe don’t read this

She wakes up at 2am needing to pee.

She’s been waking up needing to pee a lot lately.

It’s like their baby has no respect for her sleeping pattern, perfectly honed over the years to maximise productivity, while still fitting in the full 8 hours of sleep needed a day. Their baby doesn’t care about the 8 hour recommendation, he laughs in the face of scientists. With the bad back and heart burn and constant kick, kick, kicking of her bladder, she’s averaging 4.7. She thought babies didn’t start keeping you up all night until they were born but, oh, how wrong she was.

She pats her husband to wake him up and come keep her company. If she’s awake because of their baby, then damn it, he’s going to be awake, too. But he’s not there, leaving her hand awkwardly patting a bare mattress.

“Jake?” She murmurs groggily, sitting up and switching on her bedside lamp. She’s half-expecting him to be sitting in the armchair playing Mario Party on his Switch (he has become a little bit addicted in the last few months and it wouldn’t be the first time she’s found him trying to beat Wario in the early hours of the morning) or have left a note beside her bed that he had a lead on a case and needed to go in with a scribbled ‘love you’ underneath and a lopsided heart. The armchair is empty, but there’s a light on down the hall and since there’s no way she forgot to turn it off before bed (she triple checks), she figures that it must be Jake.

Forgetting the whole reason why she woke up in the first place, she grabs Jake’s hoodie from the floor for warmth and pads into their living-kitchen-dining area. It’s the open plan-ness that made her fall in love with the apartment upon first visit and submit all her paperwork as soon as she was out the door. It’s the open plan-ness that would make the Property Brothers proud and the dumb people who go on that show foam at the mouth with jealousy. It’s the open plan-ness that allows her to see her husband straight away, snacking on the unfinished party food.

(Apparently people don’t feel like eating after a man cuts his thumb off and spurts blood everywhere. Who’d have thought?)

There’s a weird, pensive look on his face that draws her towards him.

“You OK, babe?”

“Yeah, yeah, I’m fine,” he responds. He pops a tomato from the salad bowl in his mouth, then another, then another.

She narrows her eyes. He never eats tomatoes unless they’re in ketchup or on top of a famous Sal’s pizza. Something is wrong.

She thinks back on their day, mentally rewinding the events from waking up to the morning briefing to their private sex reveal in the break room and finding out they’re having a boy (the empty cake box and blue frosting around Scully’s mouth was very surprising indeed). They were both floating on Cloud 9 all afternoon, came home and Zoomed the entire family, falling asleep on the couch around 9.30pm because pregnancy is exhausting.

Nothing particularly awful stands out.

Unless...

“Are you thinking about your Grandpa?”

He’d been so excited to see him again, so excited to reunite Walter Peralta  with Roger, The Admiral with the Captain. To be honest, Amy was less than impressed. He’d been nice enough to her, asked her about her job, about the baby, small talked about the weather. But he never asked her about Jake, probed about the 20 odd years of his grandson’s life that he’d missed out on. Which is frustrating because she has a lot of embarrassing stories ready to tell and a whole photo album of Jake on her phone. He couldn’t care less about Roger or Jake, storming out of the sex reveal party after calling his son a screw up and turning off his phone so they couldn’t get in contact with him. He’s a selfish dick and her husband deserves better. Still, he won’t be thinking about what a monster Walter turned out to be, he’ll be finding ways to blame himself that yet another father walked out of his life again.

He nods silently and she leads him to the couch.

“Talk to me, Jake.”

He releases a shaky breath. “The Peralta’s are cursed.”

“With devastatingly handsome good looks?” She half-jokes, trying to lighten the mood. Because, hello, her husband is hot; she constantly overhears other women in the precinct talking about his glow up and it would be impossible to ignore the female attention he gets in bars and even just walking down the street before he scratches his face to show off his wedding band and wraps one arm proudly around his wife’s shoulders. She’s seen the pictures of a young Roger Peralta, too, and with that charm smile... she gets it.

“Thank you,” he smiles briefly, “but no. Peralta dads are cursed with terrible relationships with their sons.”

“That’s not going to be you,” she says without hesitation, without a shred of doubt.

“How do you know?” He launches into a scathing personal indictment that leaves his cheeks stinging with tears. “I’m immature, obsessed with my work, messy, always late. My dad was never around when I was a kid. I don’t even know what dads do with their sons! And what if it’s in my genes? To be a crappy dad, abandon my kid like a dozen Peralta fathers before me. Your parents still don’t think I’m good enough. You didn’t even like me at first. It only makes sense that our baby would hate me, too.”

“Woah, babe. Slow down. Let’s unpack that one at a time.” She wipes away his tears with his hoodie sleeve and squeezes his hand. “First of all, you are way more mature now than you used to be. We bought a family friendly Sedan. You read parenting books. You were eating fruit, like, two minutes ago.”

“Tomatoes are fruits?”

“What? Yes, how do you not - not the point.” She shakes her head. “And so what, you enjoy your job. That’s a good thing, Jake! Do you understand how rare that is? You’re doing the thing you love while providing a decent income for our family. And besides, I’m way more obsessed than you. I have FOMOW, but that doesn’t mean I won’t love our kid more than anything. And as for the messy, late thing, if I can look past it because of how much I love you, so will our son.”

“Love you, too,” he mumbles.

“Now onto your point about not knowing what dads do, that is a straight up lie and we both know it, Peralta. You’re always hanging out with Charles and Nikolaj and Lord Knows Terry doesn’t shut up about all the activities he does with his girls.”

“I know what they do when I’m around, but what do you do when it’s 5am and they won’t go back to sleep?” He frets. “At what age do you introduce them to Die Hard? In Cry Hard With A Vengeance,” he quotes the parenting book she originally bought him as a joke but has kind of become his Torah, “Bruce Willis says right away, but what if he’s not ready to understand the complex plots? What if he prefers Timothy Olyphant to William Atherton? Oh my God, what if our son doesn’t think Die Hard is a Christmas movie?”

He’s spiralling and it’s a good job he’s with the only person who can truly calm him down.

“I think Bruce Willis is just trying to promote his franchise and that we’ll be watching more Paw Patrol than Die Hard for the next few years, babe, but I’m sure when he is old enough, he will love the movies as much as you.”

“Right,” he agrees, “you’re totally right. Action thrillers aren’t very baby friendly. I’ll just watch it on mute with subtitles.”

She laughs, her eyes crinkling in the corners. She loves him so much. Which segways them nicely onto his final two points.

“My parents do love you. Sure, they’re critical, but that’s just the way they are. They’re the same way to all of us. My mom complains to everyone she meets about how I can’t cook, how Tony hasn’t settled down and made her any beautiful grandbabies yet, even Perfect David faces her wrath when he goes a week without phoning her. If the worst thing my mom has to say about you is that you’re below average in height, you’re doing OK. And as for me apparently not liking you at first, I did like you.”

He furrows his brow. “But you said you found me annoying and difficult to be around.”

“Yet I didn’t ask to switch desks, continued working cases with you and went to Shaw’s whenever I was invited.” She stares at him pointedly. “If I really found you difficult to be around, I wouldn’t have stayed. I thought you were cute and funny and good at your job and yeah, you were annoying too, but,” she shrugs, “it never put me off.”

“So what you’re saying is that you had a crush on me first,” he grins.

“No. You obviously had a crush on me back then, too. What I’m saying is that I love you, our son loves you and you’re going to be a great dad.”

He blushes, ducking his head. “My dad said the same thing. About our son loving me.”

“He’s right,” she replies. “I feel him kick every time you get home from work, every time you sing to Taylor Swift in the car, every time I mention your name. Why didn’t you believe him?”

“I don’t know, still nervous about the curse, I guess.” He twists his wedding band on his finger.

Amy bites her lip. “Are you not excited about us having a boy?”

She has to ask. His excitement looked genuine in the break room, but it’s no secret that he was hoping for a girl. A mini-Amy, he said. While she’s always been more accustomed to boys considering the Santiago’s have, like, a million of them, Jake couldn’t get over the image of a little girl in dresses and doing ballet and with long, dark hair that he eventually learns to braid.

“Of course I am,” he’s quick to assure her. “Stupid excited. Never been more excited for anything. Not even the Ninja Turtles reboot. But still... nervous.” He rubs his hand over his face, muffling his voice. “Everyone is assuming what kind of dad I’m going to be. Whether I’m going to be good at it or not. To be fair, the only person who doubted me is that murderer I arrested last week, obviously not my biggest fan. Everyone else is convinced I can do it. What if I can’t? What if I’m genetically wired to be a bad dad? What if I disappoint you and our baby and Charles who has been dreaming about this forever?”

“Jake,” she softens her voice, pulling his hand away from his face, “the fact you are so worried about being a bad dad proves that you will not be one. Nor could you ever disappoint us.”

“But you’re my wife. You have to say that.”

“I would never have married you and become your wife if I thought you were the kind of person who could abandon your kid,” she promises him. “You have been perfect so far, dealing with all the vitamins and over-scheduled sex and washing my clothes when I sweat through them and holding my hair back when I’m being sick. You’ve been to every doctor’s appointment, read every binder, bought me every weird food craving. You hang out with the bump every night, talking and singing to it. I know you’re going to be a great dad, Jake, because you already are one.”

She kisses him and it’s soft and tender and filled with love, only interrupted by the kick, kick, kicking of their son.

“Hey,” Jake says in his best authoritative dad voice/John McClane dealing with German terrorists voice (he’s been practising in front of the mirror following Bruce’s advice), pointing a warning finger at the bump. “I’m going to kiss your mom as much as I want, Peralta. I loved her first.”

Amy giggles, stroking her fingers through Jake’s unruly curls. His bedhead is always wild and it’s maybe her favourite thing in the entire world. She silently sends a message of her own to their son to inherit his dad’s hair. And eyes. And handsome smile.

He kicks again as if to say ‘OK, mom’.

And then she really needs to pee.

[river--glass]

Reylo Fic Recs Long Ass Fics pt 2: Alternate Universe

Someone asked for fic recs 100K or over, so here they are. See Pt. 1 for Canon Verse or Alternate Canon Verse fics. (I haven’t read all of these- my personal comments are in bold)

Equilibrium by AttackoftheDarkCurses & thebuildingsnotonfire. (modern, E, 479K)

When Rey works up the nerve to ask Grand Master Luke Skywalker to train her, she makes friends and finds something deep and wonderful in the martial art known as Taekwondo.

She never thought the choice would change her life.

Alternatively, a (long) story of love, family, and Martial Arts.

The Heartbreak Prince by diasterisms. (Harry Potter, E, WIP) 

I swore I would never read Harry Potter AU’s or Works In Progress, but for this fic I broke both rules. This is, pun not intended, so magical in every way. It has me SHOOK and if somehow you haven’t heard of it yet, do yourself a favor and check it out!

In Living Memory by SpaceWaffleHouseTM. (multiple times, E, 221K)

Ben and Rey are rendered immortal after being struck by lightning at the precise same moment, and keep running into one another as the centuries drag on. Waffle’s stories are all amaaaaazing and you need to read ALL of them.

Hit Me With Your Best Shot by SageMcMae. (modern, E, 214k)

MMA fighter, Kylo Ren is suspended from the league and sentenced to community service at his uncle’s martial arts academy. There he meets Rey Niima, a recent graduate with a natural ability and incredible potential.

Soul Searching by OptimisticBeth. (AU, Modern, E, 205K)

A Soulmates AU in which Ben is horrified to find out he’s soulmates with his 16 year old student, ten years his junior. (no underage shenanigans) This fic fucked me up. The world building is so stunning. The story is rich with love and fluff, but oh the angst. Soooo much angst and emotional anguish and two people who are trying their best but just can't communicate for shit. The overall story is so beautiful and worth every heartbreaking moment. A happy ending WILL come!

Satan Wears a Rolex by AquaWolfGirl. (Modern, E, 205K)A Devil Wears Prada AU. Unfinished, but it’s fascinating and it ends well where it is.

Hiraeth by Ferasha. (1990′s, E, 204K)

An absolute angst and pain train of a historical war fic. This is not a comfort fic. It will fuck you up. But if you’re into that, the way they’ve woven canon plot in with the Yugoslav Wars is a masterpiece. It’s dark and gritty and will make you feel things.

Le Fin Du Fin by QueenOfCarrotFlowers @leofgyth. (Victorian, E, 196K) A Crimson Peak AU!!! This writer has never let me down.

A Proposal by Any Other Name by Lucidlucy. (Modern, E, 188) A Leap Year AU.

Salt in the Blood by Hagen. (9th century, E, 169K) Featuring pre-Norman invasion Ireland, selkies, love of the sea, and mythical creatures.

The Great Big No by dietplainlite. (1990′s, E, 165K)

Kylo Ren is third generation rock royalty, a reigning brat prince starting to feel the burn of the fame he reached for with both hands. Rey is an aspiring singer on the verge of a big break, provided her A&R guy still has a job by the time she reaches LA. Their paths have crossed briefly, disappointingly, before. What happens when they collide?

The Trail Bride by SecretReyloTrash. (AU, Wild West, E, 160K)

Rey Niima finds herself in a perilous situation when her husband dies at the start of their journey West. From the few bachelors on the trail in her party; she attaches herself to the best of her options- mysterious Banker Ben Solo. A really interesting, amazing piece. Lots of introspection, and a heart wrenchingly real look into abuse and recovery. I emotionally digested for days.

The Sacred Texts by Eskayrobot & Poaxath. (Modern, E, 159K)

Doing the Unstuck by slipgoingunder. (Modern, E, 158K) A When Harry Met Sally AU.

The Mating Service by AlbaStarGazer. (Modern A/B/O, E, 146K)

If Rey had known how quickly she would find her biological mate and alpha through the world wide mating service, 'Match,' she might have considered signing up years ago.

Unravel Me by UnderTheCancerMoon. (Modern, E, 145K)

Rey and Ben push and pull their way through their 20's, experiencing the love, success, loss, and challenges that make life rich.

Fire Away by Daisyflo. (Modern, E, 141K)

The Witch in the Wood by HarpiaHarpyja @thisgarbagepicker & Inmyownidiom. (Fantasy, E, 138K)

I cannot say enough good things about this fic. It’s serving you knight Kylo and witch Rey and so so many good feelings. Sure there’s some angst and dark magic and some struggles but mostly this is a lovely Ghibli-esque story about two people living in a treehouse and talking to animals and having a really good life! Everything HarpiaHarpyja writes is magic.

Snow Without Winter by neonheartbeat. (Renaissance, E, 138K) 

If you’re into serious historical fics (this once features catholicism and Rome in 1492) this is for you.

Lemon-hot Summer by IshaRen & pr3tty_g1rl5. (Modern, E, 130K).

In which Ben is the horniest virgin alive and Rey is bored and looking for something (or someone) to do.

Stranger Than Fiction by daxcat79. (Modern, E, 127K). Grumpy writer Ben and sunshine muse Rey.

Like Red But Not Quite by @kylotrashforever. (Modern, E, 126K) KTF is a god-tier reylo writer and you need to do yourself a favor and go read everything they have ever written.

Dark Water by LinearA. (1950′s, E, 125K)

The North Shore by @strawberrycupcakehuckleberrypie. (Modern, E, 125K)

Notting Hill vibes. Actor Ben meets shop owner Rey, and both their lives are changed instantly. It’s mostly about them both being smitten and starting a really good life together!! Lovely!

Stars In My Pockets (Wear Daisies In My Hair) by LostInQueue. (Modern, E, 125K). A Reylogan fic.

we could plant a house, we could build a tree by like_a_dove. (Modern, E, 124K).

An absolute classic. It’s about growing pains and growing feelings - the transition from childhood into adulthood and all the messy bits in between. God, it will hurt you. Badly. But it’ll be so, so worth it.

go i know not whither and fetch i know not what by voicedimplosives. (1990′s, E, 118K)

Russian Mafia AU!! A truly beautiful piece of work. Great plot,great smut, great Bendemption arc. It’s an emotional rollercoaster that’s fully worth the ride.

Souviens-toi de moi by Maniable. (Modern/historical, E, 117K)

Disconnect by Weatherbug02. (Modern, E, 115K) 

Candyleg by 5cents. (1950′s, E, 115K)

The girl was too young, but old enough to have a hustler’s-eye view of her own bleak future. The boys were paying her to do a snow job on a candyleg, but she was beginning to love her work and love Solo, and she decided to stick with him till death did them part...

Baby, It’s Just Biology by polkadotdotdot. (Modern A/B/O, E, 112K)

Only If You Want To by Violetwilson. (Modern, M, 111K)

Personal security expert (and occasional under-the-table hitman) Kylo Ren has a strong feeling about the cute dive bar waitress with the strange bruises and the vicious wit. She's either a victim or the weirdest criminal he's ever met. Possibly both.

Ileenium Manor by WaterlilyRose. (AU, victorian, E, 109K)

Leia’s maid Rey instantly hates Lord Ben when he comes to take over the household. She can’t hate him for too long as he starts to pursue her. If you’re in the mood for a sweet but angsty Lord/Maid fic, this is for you.

Kohelet 3:16 (Call Me A Cab) by LinearA. (Modern, E, 108K)

Ruby Woo Red by HeartSabers. (Modern, E, 107K) Featuring makeup artist Rey and TV star Kylo.

Sixth Year by witheyesclosed. (Harry Potter, M, 107K)

The one where Ravenclaw Rey gets paired with Slytherin Ben in Potions and ohmygod he’s hot now

Lockjaw by bitterbones. (zombie apocalypse, M, 106K)

A Song of Trash and Fire: Ben and Rey Make a Porno by HarpiaHarpyja & sunshineflying. (Modern, E, 106K) 

With the help of rich Unca Wanwo, flagrant misuse of Ben's creative writing degree, and copious amounts of coffee, Ben and Rey put together the porno of the century, starring themselves and their friends . . . with interesting results.

The Hypnotist by Pandora_Spocks. (Modern, E, 104K)

From a galaxy far, far away, soulmates Ben and Rey have been reincarnated on Earth to resolve their karma. Dr. Ben Solo is a charismatic hypnotist to whom present day Reychelle Lumen has been referred to for help with her nightmares.

Score by SpaceWaffleHouseTM. (Modern, E, 104K)

Ben's friends convince him to take the Rice Purity Test, but when he and Rey are revealed to have the highest scores of their friends, they quickly form a pact to beat Poe's out by the end of the semester. I loved this! Its so so sweet and funny and all from Ben’s POV. Sweet, sweet pining Ben.

The World Shifts (And I Am Better Here) by lachesisgrimm. (Fantasy, E, 102K)

Once upon a time there was a beggar girl whose parents sold her to a thief, and she was very unhappy.--In which prophecy is used with malicious intent, and the universe exerts itself to correct the problem.

for @scarletvizhlovers

[a9saga]

I wanna make one thing clear. Nobody killed Jenny Schecter. Nobody. Not even herself.

The L Word was the most sloppily written, most lazily dramatic show, and it never cleaned up any of its undeveloped sub plots that they began once and then suddenly dropped entirely and pretended never happened. I swear to God the writers must have never revised a damn script. And this wasn't the type of thing that you only noticed if you're really hypercritical of shows you watch. Very little in the show happens subtextually. It's not a subtle show. Its on fricking Showtime.

Jenny herself over the course of seasons is an example of how the show would just create drama without reason. In season one she and her boyfriend just moved into west Hollywood next door to a couple of lesbians and through one experience with Marina at a party hosted by some of the neighborhood lesbians, she begins to understand she is really intensely drawn to this woman and her boyfriend is at this point still seemingly necessary to her new life, but he doesn't hold up to her interest in this woman no matter how guilty she feels. This makes sense as a plot point. This is how you begin a show about a bunch of lesbians in proximity to one another. The new girl in the neighborhood wants to ditch her fiance for a woman she just met. And after all this Marina stuff subsides eventually, Jenny is a decently developed character. She has flaws and good traits alike. She's messy but she's passionate. She's a drama queen but she cares about people. For instance, Max? Jenny is the main support system for Max in his transition at first, she's really like the only one enthusiastic for him about the whole thing besides that Scottish guy who does drugs in Kit's restaurant and has a couple of otherwise completely unacknowledged sex scenes with Max that dont develop into anything else and don't matter in the future to the show at all. Again. It's a Showtime show. You get the quality you should expect.

And Max is another great example of a sub plot the writers lose interest in! He's a priority to the show for basically just that one season. Honestly they treat Max like shit and lose all interest in him until they get him pregnant in the last season and even then he's only in like every other episode for a few minutes. That was mean. And so was Jenny. Jenny has like, anti-character development throughout the show which is not normal for writers to do to a protagonist. She goes from Jenny Schecter, aspiring writer and newly out lesbian in a new neighborhood to Jenny Schecter, two faced bitch with princess syndrome. They just start writing her in being obviously mean and wrong. And when Max gets pregnant suddenly she's misgendering him on purpose left and right and to my memory maybe the shittiest person to him about his pregnancy? Except of course for Tom, Jodi's interpreter and the guy who got him pregnant who was all on board for parenting the baby until for no reason he gets up in the middle of the night and leaves Max's room and never comes back. Oh and immediately changes his phone numbers apparently, and I guess cuts off contact with everyone on the show or something. That was also just a sudden, uselessly dramatic thing the show threw in that you didn't want it to, that was not justified other than to fuck over a character in a vulnerable situation, and which isn't even in character of the guy who did the thing.

But anyway. This is all to say that no member of the main cast killed Jenny Schecter. You know why? Because the writers are too fucking lazy and careless to make you want to point the finger at anyone, again, including Jenny herself. They don't give you one particularly good reason why anybody might've done it or how they were possibly tied to it. They don't give you reason to think anybody is more likely to have killed her than someone else. They give you nothing to work with in your mind's eye besides your ability to understand who in the main cast hated Jenny the most already. Jenny up and died for no reason because you aren't properly made to raise an eyebrow at her death. Jenny's death is another undeveloped subplot that the show isn't interested in seriously developing, except it is meant as the dramatic series finale to leave you at the edge of your seat so they want you to think it's *mysterious* except that's actually just a recurring fault of the show. Half assed undeveloped melodramatic subplots that get dropped and written out well before your mind forgets them. Don't let them trick you into thinking this was clever of the writers. It's not. It's so consistent with the headache inducing and lazy writing of the show it's absurd. Nobody killed Jenny Schecter. Mark never recorded Shane and Jenny in their own home. Papi was never falling in love with Kit. Etc etc. Ultimately none of this shit happened because they were unfinished and dropped entirely, and the whole murder mystery of Jenny's death ended up being less important than everyone being interrogated by police and explaining their personal history in the show like it's fascinating when weighed against this sudden death. Alice sighing and explaining "the only person I ever loved as much as Tasha... was Dana 😔" is just the investigation being a substitute for therapy. The murder mystery is an afterthought to the cast's final reflection on their relationships to each other just to stick in your mind after the show ends the way the writers want them to. And then they're like. Oh no but who killed Jenny? Nobody. God killed Jenny. Big Bird killed Jenny. The old rescue dog Jenny adopted to put down and then seduce the vet she took him to came back to life and killed Jenny. I killed Jenny. Your mom killed Jenny. The Joker killed Jenny. No one in the main cast killed Jenny. The writers just want you to think they did enough to make you think one of them did. They didn't.

Now that we've established the absurdity of the l word, why did I watch the entire show? Because I was a senior in high and a newly realized lesbian of course. That was more than 4 years ago now. I finished just before Showtime announced they would be bringing it back. I haven't watched generation q so I can't tell you anything about that. But my confliction for the original show as well as my really weird and intense love for Shane are both documented on this blog. I can't believe watching the l word in senior year and falling way too deeply and all-encompassingly in love with Shane is not a universal or even common experience. What were you guys doing senior year? Haven't you watched the l word?

[animebw]

Short Reflection: Mirai

Mirai is a baffling film to wrap your head around. It’s Mamoru Hosoda’s smallest-scale film so far, taking place almost entirely in a single location. Yet it’s also possibly his most ambitious in terms of the kind of story he’s trying to tell and how he goes about telling it. It’s his most technically accomplished film so far, with smoother character animation and more well-integrated background art than I’ve seen from him before. Yet it’s also his most amateurish film, making countless odd mistakes that an artist of his caliber should really know how to avoid. It’s a mess of contradictions, feeling at once polished and unfinished, big and small, too out-there and not out-there enough. And sadly, this confusion results in what’s probably his weakest film yet. I can see exactly how Mirai was intended to work and what message it’s trying to convey, but its overall messiness leaves it feeling crushingly mediocre. If I didn’t know Hosoda was behind it, I would swear this was a first-time director taking his first, uneven stab at feature filmmaking. But knowing that fact only makes the movie more frustrating: he should be better than this.

The story centers around an unnamed family living in the suburbs, and when I say unnamed, I literally mean unnamed. The mother, father, and grandma are only ever referred to as Mother, Father and Grandma. There’s even a big moment in the climax that hinges on the protagonist- their four-year-old son, named merely Kun (as in, Name-kun, but just the “kun”)- not knowing his own parents’ names. At least Yuuko the dog has a name. As does Mirai, Kun’s little sister who’s just been born. At first, Kun is excited to have a new member of the family, but as the stress of raising two children wears on his imperfect parents and they spend more time caring for Mirai than they do for him, he starts acting out and throwing temper tantrums. And then he discovers something unusual: the tree in his house’s yard is magical. It can transform the yard into entirely different places, transporting him through space and time to chat with his family members. He meets Yuuko the Dog in humanoid form, a teenage Mirai who scolds him for being so rough with her as an infant, his mom as a child, and his great-grandpa who hurt his leg in the war. Through each of these encounters, he learns something more about his family, growing to understand them more fully and his own place among them.

So we’ve got a classic example of Hosada magical realism, with the real world influenced, though not really changed, by the intrusion of something inexplicable. But the movie’s biggest flaw is how weirdly surface-level its structure us. Mirai’s story follows a pattern to a fault: Kun gets mad at a member of his family, he says he hates them and goes into the garden to sulk, at which point the magic tree transforms the yard into someplace else and he has a little adventure with a past or future version of that family member, during which he comes to understand them better, and once he returns to the normal world, he no longer hates them and realizes how cool they really are. This exact series of events happens around five times, and that constitutes the entire damn plot of the movie. Kun doesn’t even really grow from the experiences until the end; he just gets past whatever was bugging him about that particular family member, there’s a fade to black, and he’s right back to being a brat about a different one the very next scene. It’s literally just five separate iterations on the exact same theme back to back, as if someone took a bunch of episodes from an formulaic, episodic TV show, stripped away the opening and ending credits, and put them together at random. This isn’t a movie, this is a compilation disk.

To some extent, I understand what Hosoda’s going for here. The cyclical nature is almost certainly intentional, with repeated lines of key dialogue and establishing shots emphasizing the similarities between the fantasy sequences. And each fantasy-version family member Kun meets has some direct parallel to his current spat with their corresponding current-version family member, so Kun can see how he’s just like them in some way. It’s meant to be a big statement on the interconnected nature of family, how our past and future are intertwined and we carry certain aspects with us through the generations. But the conflicts are so basic, the messages are so trite, and the overall structure is so uninspired that it feels less like a meaningful cycle and more like Mirai’s just repeating itself. It’s not satisfying to watch, and it just feels like it’s belaboring the the point until the inevitable conclusion. Even if there are some delightful moments along the way- Kun trying to sneak Teen-Mirai and Human-Yuuko past his distracted dad was a very fun little sequence- the overall package is lacking in direction.

On top of that, there’s a lot of stuff in this movie that’s just weirdly handled. Like, at first the tree just transforms the yard itself without moving it anywhere, but then it’s transporting Kun back to the past, and the climax has it construct an entire symbolic alternate dimension that would feel more at home in a Satoshi Kon film. I’m not usually one to gripe about inconsistent magical rules, but then we do learn what the rules are supposed to be for this tree, and it doesn’t fit what we’ve actually seen it do at all. It just does whatever the plot needs it to do with no rhyme or reason. In addition, I know this is a story about a struggling family working through hard times and re-learning to love each other, but the way they interact in the early scenes feels bizarrely mean-spirited and untrue to life. The way the mom talks to her kids is off in a way I can’t quite place; it doesn’t feel like how parents and kids communicate at all. Also, it feels like Teen-Mirai is supposed to be the biggest part of the fantasy stuff- the movie is named after her- but after her first appearance, she only shows up for a single other brief scene before coming in to play a big role in the climax. Her relationship with Kun feels like it should be the emotional core, but the movie’s so scatterbrained that she’s barely given more focus than any of the other fantasy characters.

These aren’t minor issues; these are huge structural and narrative flaws on aspects that are critical to Mirai’s entire operation. And I’m honestly baffled how poorly thought out the entire project feels. It’s like the second half of The Boy and the Beast if it were the whole movie instead, a bunch of clear thematic ideas floating in a muddy soup of unearned story beats and incomprehensible plot mechanics. It’s amateurish in a way that honestly kind of shocks me. Hosoda is a good filmmaker. He’s a good storyteller. He has no excuse for mistakes this blatant. The only part of this movie that feels fully thought out is the house itself. Which might seem like a weird backhanded compliment, but this house is genuinely really cool. It’s built like a giant staircase with each room serving as an entire step, tiered diagonally from each other. The playroom’s on the bottom, the yard is next up, then comes the dining room and so on. It’s such a striking location that I’ve never seen anything like, and the staging of scenes takes full advantage of the unique layout with how the characters move between rooms, up and down the tiers, what they can see from where. We never leave the house; even the fantasy sequences explicitly stem from the yard. This is a film set entirely inside a single closed location that somehow finds an entire world of possibility to explore within its confines. I can’t help but appreciate that for its sheer gumption.

Sadly, it feels like all the imagination and attention to detail for this film went into the house, and none of it was spared for the story. There are still good moments within Mirai, delightful little character interactions and imaginative visuals aplenty, but there’s nothing satisfying tying them all together. It’s a first-draft film from an artist who really should be better than that. Hopefully, Hosoda’s next movie, the upcoming Belle, will see him return to form with the same magic that graced us with Wolf Children almost a decade ago. For now, though, my journey through Hosoda’s work must sadly end on a note of limp disappointment, as I give Mirai a score of:

5.5/10

Man, that’s a shame. I wonder if this is how everyone else feels about Jun Maeda post-Angel Beats? Well, regardless, that’s it for Mamoru Hosoda. Next up, some more random movies before I tackle one last director’s oeuvre. See you then!

[bugaboowritings]

Punk!Marinette - A Short Drabble-

Marinette Helps Adrien out of a Tree

 I have been going down holes as I avoid spoilers. Even found my unfinished writing about Punk! Marinette just had to polish it up. Inspired from art under the punk Marinette tag and @musicfeedsmysoul12 who wrote some things on this au. 

Also I’m slowly posting my work at ao3 to make it easier to find, my username is bugaboo0scrambles for anyone interested. 

Marinette clicked her tongue with satisfaction. Admiring her work with her mirror. With years and years of practice, applying winged eyeliner still seems like a game of Russian roulette. Going perfectly amazing or making her say “screw it” before giving herself a smoky eye to cover it up the ‘step-sisters’ she painted on her lids. Yet, it was a part of her routine, something she kept since that summer ago spent watching strangers talk about products and brushes.

The laces on her boots drew out the gap between leather and skin as if it was a long sign. Marinette tugged on her laces tighter before reaching a fixed level of security. Fitting in like a second skin. Her hand smoothed over her slick new shoes, relishing its aesthetic allure and not helping the snicker that came up her throat. The heels on this pair were a whopping 3 and a half inches. Nothing major compared to the other shoes on display in the market, but it was enough to give her the needed height to make her a pinch taller then Alya.

With that, she carefully went down the stairs. Watching her step as she got comfortable to the new height. Accepting her death only twice while she barely caught herself from tumbling down the stairs.

Stuffing the long laces into the inside of her boots before making it out of the backdoor of the house. Her hand on the doorknob, other on her hip. Calling out to her parent goodbye as the front of the bakery buzzed with customers.

Nibbled on her maroon-stained lips before checking the trash can. Emptying it to before her parents forgot about it.  

The fresh air outside was mixed with the sounds of cars and that horrible unidentifiable “alley smog” rushing to her head. Pushing the plastic bag out the doorway and into the alley. Stepping out before her dad escaped the customers to plot a kiss on her daughter’s head. His beard carried traces of flour while his apron was clean except the splash of fruit-filling by his knee. Wishing Marinette good luck at school before he rushed to get more ingredients as her mother yelled from the front to take care.

Marinette lightly swept her bangs to get rid of her father’s messy, flour kiss. All while her nose crinkled at the smell of day-old eggshells and butter wrappers. Holding her breath and feeling her wrist twist as she opened the dumpster to throw in the trash. Not helping the gag that came up as the garbage smelt of sun-baked vomit cookies. Letting go of the metal lid causing it to slam shut. If her caffeinated tea didn’t wake her up, then that harsh sound did. Even scaring off the black cat that slept peacefully before screeching off into the street.

-----

“How lame.” Chloe scoffed. Rolling her head like a rag doll as she raised her sunnies from her clear-blue eyes. Her nails, done and polished, flicked the lone blonde strand over her ear.

“Nice shoes, Mari!” She yelled. Booming her voice through the quad. “Matches the whole clown suit too!”

Marinette flipped her off without even looking in her direction. Making her way to the other end of the school to meet up Alya. The one classmate that could manage a conversation with her without being intimidated.

Alya typed swiftly on her keyboard without bothering to look at the keys. A skill that Marinette envied and Alya swore to be like second nature after months of drafting sharp observations over comics, movies and Paris local heroes on her blogs. She sported the denim jacket Marinette decorated for her with patches and pins all with a khaki pleated skirt. Topping it off with her very own white-tee. Her new merch, a commission by Marinette, for her Ladyblog.  

“Alya.”

“Marinette.”

Marinette threw her bag under her before lifting her ankles to cross her legs. Rocking back and forth, waiting for the typing to slow down. Once it did, it reached a sudden stop.

Alya sighed and saved her work before tugging her bag on her lap. Sliding her laptop out of harm’s way.

“I got a new scoop last night.” Alya grinned. Relaxing into her seat. Crossing her glossy legs.

“You will never believe what I saw, girl!” Jumping on Marinette as stars lit up in her eyes. A quick transition from her blank expression earlier. Marinette, knowing where this was going, played dumb.

“Let me guess,” Mari hummed, narrowing her eyes at nothing in the distance. Only to get spooked when Alya shook her.

“AHH! I can’t wait! Just let me tell you!!”

Smirking at the journalist. Alya, as if her tongue was on fire, spit on her amazing story.

There she, in the middle of the night, getting a drink of water. Like how she always did when she was staying up late for an article. Only to hear a loud noise outside. Assuming it’s an Akuma before considering the idea of an earthquake happening in the middle of Europe or a plane crash. Incentively fishing for her phone to see the most amazing sight ever. The greatest thing to hit theaters in its time. The most inspiring and jaw-dropping things to ever live in black and white. The scaly, creepy Godzilla! Stomping out the streets of Paris in the dead of night. Apartments lights flicked on as the beast strolled through the street. Holding in its roars as it tossed its tail. Missing a building by a hair. With a “zip” and a “wow”, the Parian hero duo leaped neighborhoods and buildings. Chat Noir tossed his baton in the air, saving Ladybug by the fraction of second from being dino-chum as she twirled up into the air. Ladybug’s yo-yo looped around the monster swiftly with her momentum, tripping the beast toward the bottom of the Eiffel tower. With Chat Noir’s cataclysm ready, Ladybug called on her lucky charm and-  

“- and Agreste at 10.” Alya murmured. Watching Adrien come through the front door with Nino by his side. Laughing at each other as they look back to Nino’s phone. Marinette turned around, groaning- knowing this morning routine too well. Trying to make herself seem smaller as she pushed back her shoulders. Hoping to go under notice. Already feeling his lime-green eyes on her back.

“I’ll be hiding in a tree or at the art studio, whatever I reach first.” Already grieving the loss of a perfectly good morning. “Text me if you need me.”

“See ya.” Alya waved. Slumping back to the bench as Marinette rushed away in the opposite direction of Adrien.

-----

“Marinette!”

“Agreste.”

“Ah. . .Come here often?”

Marinette had to stop the snort that came up her throat. Being a second late as a small chuckle left her lips. Having to shut down her face to not give Adrien the fuel to keep going. Bring back that dull expression as she watched Adrien struggle a little bit more.

“I don’t usually come here, but if I do I’m not dangling out of trees.”

“Uh,” Agreste hummed. Unsure what to say as he felt the tingling of blood rushing to his head competed with the deep blush that appeared on his cheeks. Or maybe that was just the pain of his blood rushing to head. Yeah, maybe it was the blood rushing to his head. 

On the bright side, however, it made it harder to see if he’s blushing.

“I’m practicing my tree climbing. . . ?” He smugly answered. 

“Practicing,” Marinette repeated. Letting that lame reason melt on her tongue before she even thought of accepting it. Crossing her arms as she stuck her leg out. Her heel rocked back and forth on the dirt. Creating a little hole as she thought this over.

“I’m not one to try and get into someone’s business-”

“You’re not getting in my business. I MEan, I-I don’t mind you asking about it. .!”

Marinette kissed her teeth. “Right . . . “

Biting her lips as she left out a long sigh. Pitching the bridge of her nose, the click on her rings hitting her septum piercing. She’ll regret this, she knows it already. She just had to humor him, even if it was a little longer.

“So Agreste. I would hate to bother this,” Marinette motioned. Her hands raised up and down and around. “But you seem like you need help? Do you need help to get down?”

“. . .Actually, yeah.”

----

“Why is Marinette pulling Adrien out of a tree?” Alix questioned. Pointing out the window when Alya and Mylene came over. Her finger covering the odd scene outside.

The three girls press their faces up the glass as they watched the commotion outside unfold.

“It looks like Marinette is shoving him in a tree to me...” Alya mumbled. Squinting her eyes before she removed her glasses. Rubbing them quickly against her shirt before pushing them back up her face.

Mylene bit her thumb, “Do you think we should go and help them? Maybe they-”

A muffled thump hit the ground. A puff of dirt rising in the air, covering the teens outside. Coughing as they waved the dust away. Marinette smoothed the dirt off her jacket as Adrien groaned.

“I think they’re fine.” Alya hummed. Returning to her notebook.

“Okay, so what did you get for question seven?”

[alyssa-ward]

Defibrillation

{ This belated entry follows [Return to the End] and runs concurrent with Kat’s [Reimposition] and Riley’s [Like So Many Grains of Sand], showing Alyssa’s part in the events in Uldum. }

“Hey, We’re here.  Just approaching the camp now.”

Riley’s voice brings Alyssa out of her silent meditation.  It’s the best way she can find to pass the time now.  Emptying her mind, sitting in silence in the woods, detached of thoughts and body. Her eyes open.  Same woods.  Even when she can modify and change her environment, somehow it’s always these woods.  “You sound tired.  Any trouble on the trip?”  She’s anxious, she realizes.  Even meditation can’t fully calm her.  Still, it’s managed, kept down as best she can, no reason to put that on Riley.

“Other than my general dislike of the place, no trouble at all.”  A moment of pause, and Alyssa doesn’t push Riley for more, letting the woman reply at her own pace.  “It looks like this used to be part of a larger camp.  Like they’ve moved people out of here recently…” another pause with a hang in her words that make it clear there’s more to come.  “Three.  She could be in any one of these three tents.”

“I wish I was there,” Alyssa gives voice to her thoughts.  “I hate that you’re going to have to relay everything you find.  That I can’t help you look.  Three...well we’ll never know if we don’t get to it.”  What else is there to say?  There’s a task to be done, and once more the woman in the blade simply has to wait.

Riley’s reply is direct, “that makes two of us.”  The delay isn’t long.  A “not that one.”  Another brief lapse and then a “dammit, not this one either.”  All throughout Alyssa murmurs her replies.  Her ‘yups’ and ‘okays’.  Acknowledgement that she’s paying attention as she otherwise silently vibrates with frustration as she waits.

It’s hard not to let Riley’s anxious anger pour over her.  To soak it all in and amplify it.  For a moment, Alyssa feels like she’s about to snap before Riley’s anger is suddenly replaced in a sharp snap.  Shocked disbelief.  Relief.  Warmth.  “Alyssa, I- think it’s…”  The sentence doesn’t even get finished, but the meaning behind it speaks volumes.

“Oh thank…whatever it is people thank.  Is she okay?  Is she awake?  What’s going on?”  Now the questions come in a rapid fire string.  It’s easy for Aly to take that unfinished sentence as ‘I found her’.

“Gimme a second here, just…”  Riley’s emotions turn to concern.  Then anger.  These are not the feelings Alyssa wants to be getting across from the woman.  She considers speaking but doesn’t have anything to add that won’t just complicate it.

“Miss, I’ve got nothing but respect for what you do, but you should really get back to your patient there.  I’m not here to cause trouble.  Just looking for a friend.”  Riley’s words are clearly not directed to Alyssa, but with her proximity to the woman, she hears them all the same.

“Are they keeping you from her?”  Alyssa’s temper starts to boil, trying her best to manage it.

“Some medic telling me I can’t be here.  I’ll take care of it.”

“If she keeps resisting…” Alyssa trails off, stopping her own words as she identifies just where her mind is going.  In her thoughts Riley knocks the person out.  Stabs them with the dagger.  Breaks a leg.  Does violence to get what she wants.  Be good.  Be better.  Kat wants me to be better.  Those words running through her head and drowning out the anger.  “Never mind, no, yes, take care of it.  All of my suggestions right now would likely get you in trouble.”

“Like I said, I’m not here to cause a disruption.  But I’m not leaving until I see my friend.”  Riley’s outward words continue to come through, but so too do the inward thoughts directed to Alyssa.  “I’m about to let this woman have it…”

It goes on.  Longer than Alyssa would like.  Her temper building.  She makes some bad suggestions.  Considers finding ways to manipulate the medics mind.  Borderline suggests simply killing the woman.  Suggests tactics to talk her way through.  Ultimately though...Riley is the one who gets through it all.  The right words being said, their tempers boiling back and forth, mutual anger fuelling each other.  A positive and a negative both to the link.

Alyssa is borderline distracted from Riley’s outward words, starting to shut out the discussion as she tries to come up with her own plots.  “...got ten minutes before things could potentially get messy.”  Words directed at Aly cut through her thoughts.  “Ten minutes to figure all of this out…”

Ten minutes is an eternity for Alyssa.  “Tell me what you see.  If she’s not conscious...put the dagger in her hand?  I want to see her soul.”  What a strange sentence, if her ‘life’ as it were hadn’t gotten so strange maybe she would think twice about it.

“She...she doesn’t look good, Alyssa.  She’s pale.  Really pale.  And her veins, they- they’re black.  Everywhere.  Her breathing seems weak.  Fuck.”  Riley is trying to quiet her fear, clearly, but that can only do so much. It’s almost enough to make Alyssa cry then and there, feeling the rise of ache in her throat, the tightening around her eyes...but of course she can’t.  Not really.

“Couldn’t have ended up anywhere else, yeah?  You know how much I fucking hate sand…” Riley is speaking to Kat now, clearly, more cracks in her voice, emotion leaking through.  Her focus turns back to Alyssa.  “She’s cold.  Are you ready in there?”

“No.  But I have to anyway.”

Riley’s uncertainty is plain to feel.  “Good luck.”  She finally ventures.  “Not sure if that’s appropriate in this situation, but...yeah, good luck.”

“Thanks,” Alyssa’s not sure what else to add.  Then one connection breaks, and a new one opens.

Trees in Alyssa’s darkened woods shift and move.  The space that parted for Riley’s soul closes, fresh growth fills the space, closing it off and dimming the space, as the old familiar passage opens again.  Gnarled branches with bits of greenery here and there attempting to regrow withdraw.  A path opens, the familiar one that has accompanied most of Aly’s time in the blade.

“Kat.”  The name passes her lips as she makes out the outline, striding forward through the woods, bare feet on grasses.  A mix of dead and fresh growth, alternately cushioning steps and crunching underfoot.  All the while hazel eyed gauze locks firmly onto the soul in the clearing ahead, familiar outline, and yet so different than it was.  The edges of it look almost like a translucent shell, a large glass globe covered in ripples and indents with no motion within.  None of the chaotic swirling clash of Light and Dark that once made up Kat Hawke.  Nothing but a small point, like a dying star.

“Kat?”  She tries projecting words out in the way they have in the past, an attempt to reach the dormant woman.  As she speaks she’s inspecting the edges of the soul, looking for any signs of that red film that once coated her soul, the evidence of N’zoth’s corruption in the end.  It’s only with a small amount of relief that there’s nothing to be seen.  “It’s Alyssa.  I need you to talk to me.”

There’s no response.  It’s no real surprise, of course there’s no response, she’d hoped, but she knows better.  Staring at the empty soul a moment, the idea comes to mind.  The wolf, ‘find me’, the empty soul.  In what feels like the blink of an eye, she’s standing before the soul again, now holding the wolf.  Bigger than her, but in this dream state it’s carried as effortlessly as air.  A small reminder that nothing she feels is true.  Maybe nothing about this even is.  “Sorry buddy.  You’ve been a good companion but I only know one way to work with souls.”

Arms squeeze tightly around the large snoozing beast, burying cheek against its fur for a moment.  The closest to a living thing she’s seen in...months?  Years?  The hug tightens as she begins to channel magic, syphoning the life force out of the wolf.

"Just thought maybe being around something she loves would help in some way, that's all.  I know it’s stupid, but what harm could it really do?”  Riley’s voice cuts in, even if evidently not directed at her.  At a glance she notices the passage to the other woman’s soul has opened again.  She must have a hand on the blade as well.

“It’s bad in here,” Alyssa offers as an update.  “I’m…” a pause as she tries to pull together her thoughts, “there’s no response, her soul is almost faded completely.  I’m trying something but...if it doesn’t work I’m afraid I’m killing what hope she gave me.”  Us.  Maybe she should’ve said us.

“What...what can I do?  There has to be something…”  Riley sounds desperate.

“I don’t know,” Alyssa tries, but fails, to keep the helplessness out of her voice.  “I’m going to try to pass the energy of the wolf into her soul, she must’ve left it to me for a reason, and there’s barely anything left of her.”  As she speaks, a hand separates from the wolf and presses against the transparent walls of Kat’s soul.  Teeth clench, that peculiar familiar feeling of the life force of another passing through her body, letting herself act as a bridge as she slowly channels everything there is of the creature into what’s left of Kat.  “I don’t know about her injuries but she’s so faded...I don’t even know if she could move on like this.”  That, in the moment, is Aly’s biggest fear.  That with what’s left of Kat’s soul, there’s not even a chance of going on to the Shadowlands.

The soul fights, the process slow.  Even all but dead with little remaining of it, Kat’s soul battles against it.  Tingling starts in fingertips of the hand against the transparent surface, and then spreads through her hand, down her arm, pinpricks of pain as she continues to funnel.  Symbolically, the wolf in her arms grows smaller and smaller, rather than wasting away the way most of her victims have.  Finally, after what feels like a short eternity, the wolf in her arms is gone.  She shivers, her whole body tingling after the fight, fingers flexing as she tries to shake off the sensation.

It’s full.  A smile tugs at the corner of her lips, looking up into the glassy soul, now once more the chaos of void and light fills the entirety of the interior, less an empty shell, and now once more a full soul.  With one simple problem...it remains inert.  “It’s whole,” She passes on to Riley while the woman stalls the medics.  “But it’s frozen.  I don’t know how to restart it but...I restored it?”  The words come as more of a question than a statement, not yet sure if she’s really done anything.  “Has anything changed out there?”

“Just a medic that can’t seem to mind her own fucking business.”  Riley’s voice, though frustrated with the medic, shows hints of hope mixed with confusion as she tries to process Alyssa’s statement.  “That’s...that’s something, though, right?  Is that good?  Is the, uh.  The dagger supposed to be glowing?”

“Probably just my fight,” Alyssa replies, offhanded distraction as she chews on her tongue, gaze cast towards the empty dark sky above the woods, mind racing with what the next steps may be.  “The darkness left in her soul didn’t want to take the rest back.  I’m trying to make it restart now, I hoped the black in her veins would go away or something?”

“It keeps flashing back and forth - teal, black, white…”  Alyssa feels a twinge of annoyance that she quickly buries as Riley brings up what feels like an inconsequential piece of information to her.  Of course the woman outside the blade has no way of knowing it’s not important.  She hasn’t figured out what to do yet so she takes a moment to explain anyway, put Riley’s worry about the Dagger’s colours to rest.

“Teal is mine.  Black and white are hers. It should calm now.  Just start!”  That last pair of words directed inside at the inert soul in frustration.  Her analytical mind races from point to point.  Frustration washing over her.  The Warlock has made herself a subject matter expert, if not a practised one, in dozens of types of spell craft.  There should be something in all of that about empowering a soul.

Unbidden by her conscious mind, her subconscious reached for a solution.  In her hands is the carved wooden soul box, a match for the one she kept her conquests in in the real world.  A trembling hand flips the lid open.  Inside the case sits one of the ancient Pandaren souls, larger and brighter than it should be.  She plucks it out of the box, and offers a bit more advice towards Riley, a plan coming together.  “Can you just...talk to her?  Tell her the things you told me.  Be honest, give her your heart and your feelings.  I’ll keep trying things but magic might not be enough.  Her soul needs nourishing.”  A pause and she adds, “that’s a guess.”  Alyssa hates that this isn’t her strong suit, that she destroys the things she touches instead of giving and aiding life.

That seems to push Riley to focus on what she can do for a moment.  The other woman fades to the back of her mind as she focuses on what’s to be done next.  Restarting this thing.  

The box falls away, the Panderan soul that Kat was so insistent had a future purpose now clasped in one hand.  Her other once more presses to Kat’s soul, and channels.  She goes slowly this time, funneling a bit of it in at once, worried about the consequences of overacting here.  Her body still tingles from the earlier exertion, and this only adds to it, but there’s no turning back from this road in the Warlock’s eyes.  

And at first, it seems to do nothing.  Then, slowly, Kat’s soul begins to stir.  A lazy jerky stop motion like stutter and start to the swirling of the chaotic energies, but the flow after that grows exponentially.  It starts to flow faster, even with Alyssa’s attempts to keep it slow and steady, and the churning reactions grow quickly, the chaos of void and light that is Kat’s soul crashing in and about each other.  Before long, the soul in her hands is gone, and the one within is still pulling, and she rips hand away from the surface before she starts bleeding herself into it too.

As her hand leaves the surface and she starts to speak, “talk to me Kat...tell me there’s life in there…” she’s cut off abruptly by Riley’s voice piercing her mind once more.

“FUCK.  She’s seizing up!”  Her words sound panicked, flooding Alyssa with the same emotion.  “Kat, I don’t have a lot of time, so I need you to hear me in there, alright?  You have to survive this.  You have to come back.  I don’t want to drink alone fo rthe rest of my miserable life, so I’m going to need you to survive, like you always fucking do.  I lo-”

Riley’s words break off as Alyssa stands in the dark woods next to the chaotic crash and whirl of Kat’s soul, once more unsure what to do.  “Lady, get off me!”  Riley spits, and rage floods the link.  Then regret.  Then relief.  Then fear.  “Alyssa...she’s crashing.  Cranial swelling.  What...what do I do?”

Even as the question is asked, the link with Kat breaks.  It’s the first time a link has broken when she stands beside a soul, and she feels herself bodily hurled through the woods, sent flying back into the central clearing as the space seals up around her, once more leaving her with no one but Riley.  No without the wolf too.  “I don’t think there’s more we can do,” she tries to sound rational, but her panic is hard to miss to another soul laid so bare to hers.  “Let the doctor handle it now, I think this is on them...oh but...bracers.  Her bracers?  Are they on her?  Do they have them?  She needs those.”

“Yeah, yeah she has them.  They’re...they’re really damaged, though.  The leather is all cracked and dry.”

A frustrated exhale.  A realization that as usual, she doesn’t understand Kat’s magic as well as she thought.  For a moment Alyssa had been certain that the bracers would stabilize the chaos, now she can’t help but worry this newest seizure is on her.  “Oh.  I thought they helped in some way.  Her soul is Light and Void in conflict, I thought the bracers might stabilize it.  When I restarted it they were fighting in chaos.  They usually are but…”

“I...I can’t stay here much longer without risking arrest.  Did we do enough…?  Did we do -anything-?”  The pitch up of Riley’s voice at the end of that question rakes at Alyssa’s heart.

“Yes,” Alyssa finds herself replying.  She has to give hope.  Has to hope herself.  “I’ll explain more, I think we’ve done what we could.  Don’t get arrested.”

“I can’t leave her here…” Riley’s words are a sentiment Alyssa feels strongly.  “Fuck.  Okay.  I need to get out of here.  I’ll let you know when it’s safe, and we’ll...do whatever it is we do next.”

“Okay.  Good, get to safety.”  Alyssa drops heavily onto the stump that the wolf occupied, and for a moment she’d swear it’s still warm.  She pulls legs up underneath herself, staring at the spot in the trees that usually leads to Kat.  If nothing else, she must’ve given her a chance.  Made it possible for her to die ‘correctly’ if she doesn’t live.  That has to be enough.  “We did a lot.”  She’s reassuring herself more than Riley now.  “I think it’s on her doctors now.”

No response comes.  The gate to Riley’s soul closes too, and Alyssa is left in the woods, body stinging all over with little pinpricks of pain, her own soul reacting violently to all the energy passed through it in such a short time.  She shifts onto her side, curling up on the stump in the position the wolf had been in, closes her eyes, and waits.

[ @kat-hawke​; @blue-eyedraven​ ]

[imagineclaireandjamie]

Is Cry Me. A River done? I thought there was more coming or did I read something wrong?

Not done, nearly though

Part Five:

The tingle of something altogether too pleasant ran along the inside of her thighs, bringing Claire out of her slumber. Two hands gripped her, keeping her gently in place as Jamie nestled himself neatly between her legs. She opened her eyes, squinting but unable to lift her head enough to see him clearly.

“Oh...God…” She moaned. Her lip caught between her teeth as her back arched off the mattress, one hand fisted in the sheets whilst the other sought out the confines of his hair, her fingers twitching against his skull as his tongue worked some sort of magic against her needy flesh.

It wasn’t long before she found herself shaky and spent, her head resting solidly against his chest as he kissed her forehead.

“I think we should finish it...together,” she whispered. The thought had been rattling around since the funeral. WIth all of Lamb’s friends gathered under one roof, Claire had been asked on numerous occasions whether his manuscript would be forthcoming and, although she couldn’t give an accurate response, she hadn’t been able to say no. “I don’t think I could do it by myself, and you have the better insight. But I would hate to see it languishing on our computers - unread.”

“When do we start?” In all honesty Jamie was excited by the prospect. It didn’t mean Claire had committed to a life in Glasgow, but it meant he would have more time to silently convince her.

“Later,” she mumbled, turning quickly in order to catch him unawares, “right now I think we have some unfinished business of our own.” Pinning him to the bed, she kissed him once on the lips, keeping him still with her hips as she began the painfully slow trip down his neck and along his chest.

-- --- --

With a fresh cup of coffee in her hands, Claire peeled open her laptop, drumming her fingers against the wood of the desk as she waited for it to load.

“So, I think we should discuss where we take this from, aye?” Jamie began, blowing the steam from his hot tea. “We’d been sort of sticking to a chronological order, ye ken from what ye’ve already read that most of the early years tales have been written, the middle too. It’s mainly the later years we have to finish off.”

“I have some of his letters, if that helps?”

Lamb, like clockwork, had written to Claire. Being caught up in her own life, she had read them -replied to a couple- though had never gone into the sort of detail he’d hoped for. But she had kept them safe, read them over and over until the ink had begun to fade from some of the pages. She had treasured them when she’d been so down that she had wanted to take him up on his offer and leave Oxford. Now, it seemed, they might be all the more useful to them.

The scent of toast wafted into the small lounge as the buzzer beeped in the kitchen. With breakfast nearly ready, she left him to finish off the food while she rushed upstairs to collect the tin. Clutching it tightly between her fingers, she placed it delicately on the table, leaving it for Jamie to open.

“He certainly covered all of his bases, didn’t he?” Jamie chuckled, taking a bite of toast and passing Claire a plate of her own. “Now we can just interpret them, I can help fill in some of the blanks and we can get a great end - something Quentin would be proud of.”

They spent the rest of the day surrounded by paper, trying to reorganise as many letters as possible, finding some semblance of an order to the stories told within them. By the time the sun was setting, the automatic lights turning on in sequence around the small room, they had already found a few that could be discarded as well as some incredibly valuable *new* anecdotes that Jamie had loosely remembered Lamb talking about but hadn’t been able to fully add to their timetable of events, not until he’d read and re-read the words a few times.

Standing, an envelope in her hands and a biro tucked neatly through her messy bun, Claire scratched her head with the end of the paper. “How long do you think this will take to finish?” She asked, knowing he might have a better idea now they’d finally completed the task of skim-reading most of the letters. “Not that I’m in a rush, of course.” A distinct red blush coated her cheeks as she smiled across at Jamie, her memories of their mornings adventures flashing before her eyes as her stomach clenched.

“Ach well, that all depends on how fast I can type.” He jested, winking -both of his eyes closing for a brief moment as his inability to do so reared its head. It looked rather like an extended blink rather than a wink which caused Claire to bite her lip as she held back her laughter.”But in all honesty I reckon we might have a good rough end in a month or two. That includes a couple of draft reads and edits.”

“Two months? Max?” A bolt of fear shot through her at the prospect of an end. After their first encounter, she had grown fond of their daily interactions. Whether it was the agonising lust that seemed to set her on fire from the inside out, or the little touches of his hand on hers as he past her on the stairs, there was something otherworldly about the way his body called to hers and the idea of another few guilt free months in his company made her heart race and her toes curl.

“What will ye do when we’re done?” The question fell from his mouth without him really thinking about it, but he could tell by the widening of her eyes that she wasn’t really sure.

In the week after the funeral, neither had really made any steps in returning to their proper routine. Jamie had made sure the shelves were stocked with good food, he had called his bosses and kept them abreast of the ever changing situation, putting their minds at ease as him and Claire had discussed some varied details of what Lamb might want in the wake of his death. Other than that, though, both had just basked in the quiet company of the other.

Claire had a few things in mind for her immediate future, she had been dreaming vividly and the more she delved into the early life of her uncle, and his days lost with her in the wilderness, the more she wanted to pen her own version of events -though she had no idea where to start.

“Maybe I’ll become like Mary Poppins,” picking up the much abused video box of the classic movie from Lamb’s shelf, she ran her finger over the front cover and smiled, “and go where the wind takes me.”

“Are ye feeling the need for an adventure now?” Tapping against one of the smaller piles, he cocked his head to the side. With the tales fresh in his mind, he could almost feel the intoxication, the lure of travel from the stories Lamb had woven into the very fabric of the paper.

“Maybe,” she sighed, a very basic plot forming in her mind, “but there’s a chance I’ll need your assistance with it.”

-- --- --

Days turned into weeks and before either of them knew it, a whole month had passed in a blur. Working day and night, powered by caffeine and the company of the other, Jamie and Claire began to put the final words down on the biography. They barely spoke of what would happen once they’d finished, but on the days she wasn’t working on Lambs memoir, Claire was thinking of her own novella.

“I think we’re ready for this version to go to the publishers now. What do you think?” Pulling his glasses from his nose and placing them beside his laptop, he stretched his legs beneath the table and suppressed a yawn.

“I agree, I think we’ve done all we can with it -- I think he’d be proud.” Gazing out of the window, the dulled glass caused the passers by to appear disjoined as they walked by. She was in a world of her own, the words swirling around her as if Lamb were here himself. His voice seemed to speak to her and it wasn’t until a flurry of activity caught her off guard and brought her out of her daydream that she realised Jamie was still talking. “C-can you repeat that, sorry…”

“I just agreed wi’ ye, he would be.” A slow smile spread across his face as she turned back to him. “He’d be so proud of you too, Claire.”

“It was a while back now, but do you remember the phone call you took for me, from Frank?”

A cold shudder ran down his spine but he nodded as he tried to hold back the vitriol. Though no more had been said about the man, he knew from the way she occasionally reacted to him that nothing good could come from her mentioning him. “Aye, I do.”

“Before you I had little to no knowledge of proper *human* relationships. I met him, Frank, in Africa when I was there with Lamb, though the two never really crossed paths. He was my first kiss and when we finally bumped into one another again back home I sort of just found myself gravitating towards him. When I was away, in the desert, in the jungle, anywhere really with Lamb he had an unconscious way about him. He kept me grounded in some way. But alone, I was useless. I was trapped, wrapped up in this elevated world hidden from mere mortals where people like Frank are completely untouchable.”

Pouring her a wee dram, Jamie walked Claire to the sofa, sitting her down before handing her the tumbler.

She took a swig before continuing. “I’m so scared.”

“Of what, lass?”

“I don’t even know!” She sighed, exasperated. “Of finishing this and having nothing. Of staying and then this turning to dust. Of going home and falling straight back into old habits - but those are the ones I know. It’s daft. I know which the terrible decision is, but you represent something infinitely worse.”

"Aye, worse am I?" He tried to joke, but it fell flat the moment the words left his mouth.

"No- harder."

"Which is it Claire?"

"I don’t know, I don't know how to explain, I’m sorry, Jamie,” she spluttered, passing the glass back, her hand shaking as she stood quickly, “I think I just need some space.” Rushing from the lounge, she headed straight up to her room and slammed the door shut.

It was the first night in a long time that she spent alone. Jamie, still shocked and flustered by her fast exit, sat for a while by himself before gathering some of his belongings and returning to his own flat for the night. Claire heard the front door slam, her hand covering her mouth as she cried almost silently. Curling up on her bed, she kept her eyes on the case she had never quite unpacked as if it’s half-filled mass was indicative of where she was always meant to end up.

There were a couple of letters she had held back from Jamie, ones that had more personal comments that she wasn’t comfortable sharing. Yet.

Morning arrived, the sun streaming in through her open blinds. She’d slept on and off and rubbed her red-rimmed eyes as she crawled out from beneath the thin blanket that she’d pulled over herself sometime during the early hours.

“Claire?”

She jumped a little, shocked that he had somehow managed to sneak back in without her hearing him. The first reply barely left her mouth, her throat dry as she swallowed and tried again. “Yes, Jamie?”

The door opened slowly, the hinges creaking as he popped his head around the wood. “I have somewhere to take ye, will you come wi’ me?”

Nodding, she plucked a piece of stray fluff from her creased jeans. “Yes, sure, can I change first?”

“Of course,” he replied, “I’ll wait downstairs.”

Quickly, she used her en-suite to wash and re-dress in clean clothes before placing her purse and notepad into her small bag. Making her way downstairs, she felt a heaviness cross her chest. He was waiting, his car keys resting between his fingers.

“Driving?”

“Aye, ready?”

“Yes.”

-- --- --

The motorway wasn’t too dissimilar from the train ride, though the sound of the wheels on tarmac were slightly more relaxing than the chug of the metal wheels against the tracks. “Do you want to tell me what surprise you have in store for me?” She tried to sound light, but somehow she still sounded worried.

“Ye’ll see.” He returned, a tight smile lifting his lips slightly.

“Have you sent the manuscript off?”

“I emailed the first PDF this morning before we left. I’ll hear soon and I’ve cc’d you into it, so ye should know the moment they respond to me.”

As they drove over each county line, a new sign popping up to indicate their direction, Claire started to feel more and more nervous. As Dumfries and Galloway came into view, she felt this almighty lump forming in her throat. Just before the Gretna junction, Jamie pulled off the motorway just as the sun peaked high in the sky. Small villages came and went until a borders train station came into view, giving her a glance at the side of a carriage as it sat quietly on the partially hidden platform.

“Will you tell me now?” She asked calmly, though she had an idea of what was about to happen.

“It isn’t due to leave for another thirty minutes,” he said, pointing at the ScotRail service idling beside them, “I’ll wait, to make sure ye get away alright, and I’ll make sure the rest of your belongings get back to Oxford safely. But I think ye might need something more than I can offer ye here.”

“You think I should go back?”

“That’s what ye’ve been thinking about, aye? Yer home. The one you’ve belonged in.”

“Home.” She mirrored, the word seeming foreign on her tongue. “What about the rest of Lamb’s biography?”

“We can email. And I can phone. It’s written, no’ much will need completing on it now.”

“...and there’s nothing for me here?” Her voice was steadily lowering, getting more inaudible as cars started to pull in and park around them.

“Only ye ken that.” Opening the car door, he gallantly walked to her side and held out his hand for her to take. “I’ll wait until yer gone, to make sure you’re safe and ye can call whenever you like.”

Finding her voice seemed impossible and she couldn’t help but replay their last conversation over and over in her head. Having confessed to him that he was the more terrifying option, she had fled and hidden in her room. Walking over to the entrance, she turned only to find him hunched over, his back facing towards her as he rested against his car bonnet. Her feet kept moving, though every step increased the stabbing pain in her chest.

Hauling himself back into the front seat, Jamie let his head flop onto the steering wheel. It was highly likely that his plan could backfire massively, but from the moment he’d mentioned the end of the book he had felt an immediate disconnect from Claire. It was fear, that much was clear, and he didn’t want to send her back to somewhere she was deeply unhappy. However, something in his gut told him that her misplaced sense of self was too fragile to be convinced to stay with words alone. At the first sign of trouble, she would run. If she wanted to stay, to make a life here with him, she needed to make this choice herself.

Sitting with her hands wrapped in her coat, Claire watched as various passengers wandered up and down the platform, the guards opening and closing the doors for them. Though it wasn’t freezing cold, she couldn’t help but feel chilled. Though she hadn’t picked up on it before, reading back through Lamb’s letters it had suddenly become clear about his intentions for her. Clearly he hadn’t voiced those opinions to Jamie but it had been silly of her to think he didn’t know of her situation in Oxford. A man in uniform raised his brows as he walked by her for the tenth time. Standing, she brushed the creases from her trousers. This wasn’t a choice between Jamie and Frank because that would have been an impossibly easy decision, but a choice between who she’d always been and a new variant of herself. As the clouds of steam cleared from the front of the train, the sight of the car sat stoically in the car park made her stumble backwards and she sighed loudly as her bottom hit the warmed wooden seat once more.

A loud horn echoed through the trees surrounding the station as the engine pulled out and disappeared off into Cumbria. As promised he waited, long enough to watch as the car park emptied and the lights dimmed in the entrance to the platforms.

Closing his eyes, he inhaled, tapping his fingers against the steering wheel as he tried to calm himself enough to turn the engine on and drive away.

A knock on the window made him sit bolt upright, sweat running down his back as he twisted to see who’d disturbed his pity party.

“Claire!”

She stood, tears in her eyes as she stepped back from the car. “Take me home, Jamie, please. To Glasgow”

Taking her hand, he bought it to his lips and kissed her softly. “Aye,” he replied, watching as she sniffed, shaking her head as she made her way to the passenger side and climbed in. “Home it is.”

[kaiamcrgan]

⌠ COURTNEY EATON, 22, CISFEMALE, SHE/HER ⌡ welcome back to gallagher academy, KAIA MORGAN! according to their records, they’re a THIRD year, specializing in ADVANCED ENCRYPTION + RESEARCH & DEVELOPMENT; and they DID NOT go to a spy prep high school. when i see them walking around in the halls, i usually see a flash of ( messy black hair, chipped polish nails, can of energy drink, baggy knitted sweatshirt, saccharine hum of weezer's island in the sun ). when it’s the virgo’s birthday on 9/18/1997, they always request their CREAMY SPINACH PIZZA from the school’s chefs. looks like they’re well on their way to graduation.

I have no shame and just copy paste lol did i edit? absolutely not ehehe but love me. [ @gallagherintro​ ]

trigger warning: abduction mention

HISTORY

KAIA MORGAN was a descendant of one of the biggest landowners and stewards in Oahu, Hawaii. Her family’s goal was to procure land to build eco-friendly business establishments that would provide livelihood to the community and at the same time, shoo away land developers that could possibly abuse and eradicate the island’s natural resources. Eventually, they also tapped into government services because well, people loved the Morgans.

Despite the good nature of the family’s legacy, it could get a little messy behind the scenes. Business tycoons came and gave them offers to flat out some hills and cut down trees to build hotels and factories that could possibly poison the sea. Some of these people had been aggressive, threats had been made and even went beyond crazy just to get what they want. When throwing rocks with notes at their home was not enough, they thought that abducting eight year old Kaia would shake them off from where they stood.

Through special services, Kaia was swiftly recovered from her abductors, people involved where stripped off of their business permits and served their jail time but it left Kaia permanent emotional and mental scars. There was no getting over that. At least, not for a very long time.

The incident left her being overly cautious of her surroundings, she avoided talking to people, too scared to put her trust in someone. She had been constantly felt being watched, if not by her family’s enemies, it would be by bodyguards her father hired to casually look after her. They almost didn’t bother her but having them around made her feel uncomfortable but she really couldn’t complain because she knew it was for her protection.

It was when she turned to something that didn’t really require social interaction, the internet. For the time being, it made her happy, forget her childhood trauma and help her gain friends through playing online games and joining forums that stimulates her opinions on current pressing issues. It became her comfort zone. She get to open up to people who she didn’t personally meet only know her by her username.

Came high school graduation and Kaia did not exactly know what to do. She was done with the hellish years of her life and she was not ready to jump into another hellfire. While she was learning the ropes of the good and the dark side of the world by web, she was sort of disconnected in real life. Her mother would get in fights with her, whining at how she was wasting her life away as she all she ever wanted was to play video games and keep her virtual connection strong.

Her fight with her mother had gotten worse when they found an acceptance letter to this Ivy League she didn’t really apply for. Turns out, her bodyguards were Gallagher bred and they did more than just looked after her.

It wasn’t like it didn’t pick her interest. In fact, she did her own research. Though it was something she might have been interested in, she didn’t think she was cut for that.

AT GALLAGHER….

At first glance, it was obvious that Kaia wasn’t really the ideal embodiment of a Gallagher girl if one would simply judge her by her demeanor. It didn’t mean she didn’t earn her place.

Surely, she had struggled fitting in but it wasn’t new to her. Surprisingly, she had like it. It was a far cry from any educational constitution she had been before. It also helped that it was a little exclusive so she didn’t really feel a lot of pressure when it came to social interactions

She had a lot of firsts in Gallagher and whether she admits it or not, she was glad her family encouraged her to go to Roseville. She was not sure if her parents were fully aware of where they sent her off too but really, it wasn’t that bad.

PERSONALITY

Kaia is very timid, doesn’t speak much and from time to time, she stutters but she is trying her best alright. Getting two sentences was a little bit too much for her already until she is already comfortable with you because she will ramble a lot.

Kaia keeps people at arms length although it doesn’t really last long because she likes attention ( although she didn’t like being in the spotlight ). Opening up is not something she would do and she would rather not have an conversation that revolves around her.

Kaia is unfortunately a pushover. She will probably do things for you as long as you leave her alone afterwards.

Kaia is either hyper-focused or slipping her attention into something else mid-conversation. She is focused too much when she does something like swimming or drawing that she gets a little lost in it and during normal conversation, she will probably stop you from talking because she saw a cat passed by.

Her humor is so bad (or the way she delivers it ). Almost every joke she crack, she almost regret saying it. Most of the time she laughs at her own jokes and puns.

She is very moody and one person probably can’t tell because she is meek.

Kaia can be easily motivated just as she is easily demotivated. Despite being smart, she has very low opinion about herself. She had a tendency to give up easily when things didn’t go as plan.

MORE FACTS

She is 5′10 and hates it. She slouches a lot because she doesn’t like to draw attention.

She has a fat Russian blue cat at home named Meowth and has a picture of him on her bedside table.

Kaia doesn’t really express herself much so she pours it all in her journal with unfinished songs and drawings. She has more patience in texting than engaging in a conversation, with the exception of people she was very comfortable with.

Honestly, Kaia is a little spoiled. She struggles with keeping her room tidy because she was used of someone cleaning after her.

WANTED CONNECTIONS

BEST FRIEND ( 0/1) - Kaia only met them during her first year since she didn’t really have friends in high school. If not, then they were someone she met online and when they met

MOM/DAD FRIEND ( 0/?) - Kaia doesn’t really take care of herself so someone has to! She needs a lot of those.

CLOSE FRIEND ( 0/? ) - it could be like study buddy, video game buddy, lab partner, just someone that Kaia tolerates and tolerates Kaia. One of the people she the people she didn’t mind hanging out with, the kind of person PJ can nerd out with.

FRENEMIES ( 0/2 ) - probably someone that annoys Kaia( and probably blackmail her ) into doing their bidding. It could also be a video game buddy that she gained a unhealthy competition with.

EX-FRIEND ( 0/2 ) - the falling of the friendship can be mostly blame of Kaia’s part, like she was probably unavailable when she needed them or they did something that turned Kaia away from them. Or something happened between them that put them in an awkward situation.

EX-SOMEONE ( 0/? ) - the kind of relationship I wanna explore was her first one in which a disaster because Kaia didn’t know what to do so she probably end up avoiding this person. Another is the one that ended ugly, like this person cheated on Kaia. Or something that Kaia thought was serious but just a casual one. Another is one that just simply didn’t work, one of those friends to lovers thing that didn’t work as lovers.

BAD INFLUENCE ( 0/2 ) - Kaia couldn’t avoid being social forever. Basically just an enabler of her curiosity about these sort of things.

MUTUAL FEELINGS ( 0/1 ) - someone she hangs out with, they are not quite a friend but they are special to her. Sometimes they kiss. They cared about each other but there’s no label in it, not after the string of disastrous relationship she had been.

FAMILY ( 0/? ) - self-explanatory really but you know, cousins but not limited to family friend or a relative of her stepfather she had met several times.

ANYTHING UNDER SUN REALLY - we can also always brainstorm if none of the mentioned above really fits

IF you reach this part, you are amazing!!!!!! Like I wouldn’t bother myself most days to be honest. Just reply if you want me to hit your DMs to plot or like hit my dicord at batnips#8030

[bigskydreaming]

kai06leaf replied to your post:

Ended up all night, with sleep derailed by a RUDE...

Um I had asked for a link for your batman related works?:)

Oh score, this is actually weirdly timely then! FlashinthePan is my Batfam pseudonym (https://archiveofourown.org/users/FlashInThePan/works), its just it hasn’t been useful for much other than to use my bookmarks page there as a fics rec list. Since the only other things still up on it are the YJ WIP I haven’t updated in a couple years and an elephant’s graveyard collection for the random ficlets I often write on here while forgetting they’re usually long enough to be actual one-shots...and that I then forget to actually add to that one, that I created for the specific purpose of putting all those in one place. My mind. Its just....*staggers at the Legend of it all*

I’ve been on a pretty committed “No more posting unfinished WIPs kick” for the past couple years but am finally at a point where I have stuff to post without cheating, so that streak officially ends today, when I finish my read-through of the first fic* in question and hit publish. “The Requiem Rites of Robins,” the ten chapter first story in an AU Battle For the Cowl fix-it series, “A Legacy of Robins,” with TRRoR being roughly 40K, focuses on Dick and Jason and their issues with each other and Bruce’s believed death, picking up and going AU at an indeterminate time not long after the end of BFTC. 

Specific goals of focus with this particular fic were addressing Bruce’s bullshit last will and testament to Jason (ugh), the eternally unremarked upon moment that was Dick watching his brother refuse to take his hand and instead fall to what at the time must have seemed very likely to be Jason’s second death, in a pretty fucked up parallel to his parents’ death (ugh), various other unaddressed issues between the brothers that kept them making like they were Cain and Abel instead of two people who loved each other and very much could use each other while grieving for their father or even just pretending they weren’t....and also steadfastly jumping their combined train of events well off the tracks before Morrison’s whole...”Jason” thing ever happened at all (ugh).

Just a headsup for readers for whom certain characterizations of Bruce are a dealbreaker - full disclosure, this fic and its sequels do consider various less pleasant moments between Bruce and his two eldest to be in character and canon, with NTT #55 and the ending to UTRH the most touched upon and relevant. For what its worth, my intention there (and hopefully my execution of things) was not to vilify or bash Bruce, or to make it at all a question of whether or not both really loved Bruce and he them. 

To be clear...I do categorize Bruce’s actions towards Dick and Jason at those times/specific others as abusive, but a huge part of my reason for even writing this particular fic was to explore and examine the reality of loving a parent even despite a history of actually abusive behavior on their parts. Of how to mourn for someone you loved at some times and hated at others, who was both the person who made you feel whole again and the one who made you at other times feel the most broken. 

Especially when you’re two people who pride themselves on being heroes, who are ‘supposed to know’ that there’s no defense, no excuse for some of the things their father did, but that doesn’t always change or erase how much they want to. And who are both looking for an answer in the other, as to how they’re supposed to live with the fact that deep down, there’s a part of them that will always still be those ten and twelve year old orphan boys who came to believe their father was a man who could literally do the impossible...even mend what was broken, make things right with them and the world as they knew it just like he’d managed once before, when he’d first come into their lives and they’d been just as certain then that there were no more happy moments in their futures at all. 

And with the both of them still, even after everything, having held onto that secret hope that someday he was going to find the secret loophole, the magic words that let them forgive him, that let them let the past all just be in the past and the future all that really mattered, that their best days as a family weren’t all behind them yet and there was still time for things to be different, for him to be different....because their dad wasn’t like other ordinary dads, their dad was the Batman, he was a superhero.....

....who was also still just a man, and sometimes men die with their most important deeds still left incomplete.

This first story is centered firmly on just Dick and Jason, because I have a tendency to let things get too widespread and expansive plot-wise the more characters I focus on, and because this first story, about mourning Bruce and finding a way to move on, needed to be just Dick and Jason, although Cass and Tim and Damian, as well as Steph and Babs and Alfred all have things in the wake of his believed death that IMO they needed explored, and that were never explored in canon. But Dick and Jason had to be the first two and a solo act except for each other, especially as this series is still geared towards Bruce’s eventual return, and just to a much different status quo....because the thing about Dick and Jason at this specific point in time, is that they were quite possibly the only two people in the world who would ever have the relationship with Bruce that they did, to see him the way they both at times did, and nobody else ever fully grasped. 

They knew him at his highest and his lowest points, the best parts of him and the worst, the center of their whole universes and the destroyer of them....and for them, at this place and time, its about being forced to realize that for as much as come between them over the years, they each are the only ones who will ever fully be able to speak to the entirety of their father as not just Bruce Wayne, the Batman, the myth and the legend, but Bruce the man, the flawed father who was supposed to be better than his worst mistakes with them, because he was supposed to be a hero. 

Even as close as others were to Bruce, there were specific slants to the light they saw him in....for Alfred, even when making his worst mistakes, he was still his son, for Cass he was still the father who fought her personal demon not because of what he wanted her to be but so that she could be who she wanted to be, for Tim, he was imperfect but still larger than life, the hero he’d still first only come to know through the lens of a camera from a great distance, a perspective he’d yet to entirely shake, and for Damian he was still largely a figure of make believe, a bed time story he’d been told all his life. 

There’s an inherent goodness, a nobleness around the idea of Bruce for most others in his life, that defies coming face to face with the realities his failings could be.....which only Dick and Jason could ultimately attest to, as losing the ability to keep sight of that innate shine was why they’d found themselves so disillusioned by their father at the lowest points between them. And so in a lot of ways, the ultimate goal of writing this fic was trying to get Dick and Jason to a point where they could share their full, messy, complicated as hell feelings about their father with each other, but simultaneously feel a need to preserve the way each of their siblings still saw him, because the truth is that if there’d been someone who could have preserved that shine for their own eyes, to keep their memories of him clear and unobstructed by complication....they would have been glad to have been left just missing Bruce their father, and not the mess of feelings forever tied up in a Gordian knot upon by his death.

So yeah. LOL. That’s the link to my Batfam works, though there hasn’t been much on their for ages, but stay tuned for Chapter One of The Requiem Rites of Robins, later today.

“In the wild, a group of robins is called a round. But Gotham’s birds have always been of a different sort, something entirely unique. And the only proper plural for them, I’ve found, is a legacy.”

An investigation leads the newly minted Batman to London, alone and without Robin’s back-up for the trip. In the past couple months, Dick Grayson has barely found time to breathe, let alone to grieve for his father and come to terms with his new role as the Dark Knight’s successor. But his distracted state leaves him vulnerable, and when a new villain’s one-man war threatens to make a casualty of him too, he’s left with no alternative but to work side by side with his rescuer - at other times better known as his brother, his successor, and a couple times his would-be killer.

(Their family always has been one of over-achievers. And if you’re going to pick a pair of brothers to play compare and contrast against with that in mind, its hard to go wrong with something biblical.)

But Dick seeming no more happy about it than he is, doesn’t do much to pick up Jason’s mood. He’s come to London for his own reasons, and no, he’s still not inclined to share. Curiosity killed the cat, but he’s sure Selina wouldn’t mind if innate nosiness knocked off a few birds here and there as well. Well-earned paranoia aside, however, secrets and cynicism can only carry them so far when the two are forced to rely on each other to fight their way free of a city turned death-trap. Both are keenly aware that the last time they’d fought side by side like this, they’d been all the way back on the other side of Jason’s first untimely death. And as far as potential omens go, that one’s about as shitty as they come.

But a mixed curse and blessing are nothing new for them, and so that’s not just a painful reminder, but also proof that things were different once. That the brothers they’ve become were not always the brothers they were supposed to be. It was time and pain and bloody loss that weighed them both down so much further than the altitudes that came most naturally....not fate, or destiny, or even them. And as their new enemy forces them deeper and deeper below ground, it becomes all the more clear there’s only one skill in either of the brothers’ arsenals that will see them through to the other side of all this: 

And only if they can not just remember, but rediscover, how to shed all of that and finally fly free again.

[countryshitposts]

deleted scenes

a collection of (horrid) unfinished and deleted scenes in my Christmas Party fic 

i deleted them because it didn’t flow well with the plot i’ve already sculpted out.

Portraits

Vietnam lingers on from the party as nothing but a shadow, only conversing whenever someone else carries the conversation they have provided for her. She excuses herself from the main room of events and goes through the wide and lengthy hallways of the manor, its hallways snaking up and about the manor, hissing with voices. She looks at the portraits and picture frames that have been placed to decorate said hallways, to stop the simplicity that is the cream-colored walls and dim lights hanging over her.

The girl looks from portrait to portrait to picture frame; a different telling and story of Philip. She glances at a portrait of him and his father - Tây Ban Nha - with the latter looking imperious and intimidating, the smug smirk of his and dark red eyes glinting daggers, as if he is effortlessly travelling to the future just to scare her. Tây Ban Nha was holding a young boy’s shoulders, looking quite tense in front of his father’s body and into the painter’s eyes. He has a small, nervous smile on his face, fidgeting fingers and sad brown eyes.

(He had brown eyes before- until he finished his flag, until he finally has a goal to live among the immortals.)

Vietnam walks past the portrait and into a black-and-white photo of Philip in his military uniform. She stares at the immortalized photo for an abnormally long time; the way he smiles at the photographer with the bright smile of his, grainy yet memorable through time. His messy dark hair was tamed back to a short military cut, arms crossed at handling a rifle.

She walks to another one- of Philip and Palau, their wedding photo, looking as blissful and as in love as they were before. Philip was holding Palau, donning a white gown in an embrace. They were surrounded by flowers; lilacs and lilies and all. She sighs.

“You were so young.”

A scoff from behind her back did not surprise her, “You call a three hundred-year old man in a wedding photo young? I’m older than you by many centuries.”

A tale of music Basically, this is an earlier version where I made SK not sleep early and is aware that he slept with Mongolia.

Minguk is stressing.

Stressing about what?, his mind asks cluelessly, searching for problems that was right in front of him.

Minguk cannot sleep. He cannot even look at Mongolia’s (beautiful, serene, mesmerizing) sleeping face without lurching and wanting to vomit.

This night he has given his body to Mongolia again, enjoying it once more, and he cannot bring himself to continue like this. He feels an arm on his waist, holding him close and soft breaths on the nape of his neck, signalling that Mongolia is asleep and that Minguk is staring into the void. He shivers at the slight movements the man behind him is doing, talking, moving, crying in his sleep.

He looks from the floors, being able to trace the design’s on it (their surface was cold, so cold) then looks out the window he has a clear view of- it seems to be dark outside, except for the irritating blinkering Christmas lights that were littered all around the place.

(Of course, he can’t help but wonder how high the window is for him to jump and hit his head, finally ending his lifeline.)

Then, a light shines through the rest of the Christmas lights, like it was the sun bringing an end to the darkness. Minguk groans as the light hits him right in the eyes, and, snaking his way out of Mongolia’s soft but firm grip, he walks towards the window.

Phone call

“Russia”, Renmin says, the call making his night a little more joyous. “Why’d you call?”

“I hate the European Christmas party”, Russia deadpans at the end of the line, words slurred- she’s probably consumed vodka, like the woman she is.

“How so?”

Russia’s sigh echoes to Renmin’s phone, “Ukraine is getting on my nerves again about Crimea.”

Renmin chuckles, “You do know that whenever you meet Ukraine will always bicker about Crimea. But how are the others?”

“Everyone is either high or drunk or both, again.”

Roast

“No matter how many times you take plastic surgery you still look repuslive!” Saudi Arabia’s words cut deep through Daehan Minguk, as Mongolia holds him back from a fight, despite looking ready to obliterate the man in front of them, looking smug and refined.